#she knows exactly what she wants to leave behind

[necroliberty]

So because this is amazing and because I am hyperfocusing on Gravity Falls. Let me share a bit of Amelia's long-lost sister, Kelly Ness. Okay, they aren't sisters anymore, but still.

Kelly fell on the blue grass of a random dimension. She wasn't the type to keep note. The atmosphere was different, somehow safe and dangerous at the time. But again, she didn't particularly keep a note on things like that. Kelly just made a bee line to a mailbox inside either various stickers added to the tin. Mabels had a knack to give stickers to everything. But Kelly just gave them a cursory glance as her right eye gave her the info on each. Giving the coordinate to each stickers place of creation. She should make note of getting stickers for respectives Mabels. Sometimes, it was the only thing that could tell Kelly where to actually send the damm things. Eventually, she opened the mailbox with a specific key and looked through the letters. Some were boring ads that she threw around. No one needed those. Some were Stanfords incredible writings, making sure to say exactly who and where it should be sent. Other times, it was Stanley's doing letters of his own. They were often hard to send back. Mabels were also there. It was obvious with how much stickers and colors her letters had. She practically never had to read the content to know exactly where to go. A bit more, and she was wondering if Mabels just knew the mailbox wasn't actually magic. The rarest were of Dipper and McGucket. For whatever reason, these two either didn't bother make letters or weren't the type to fall in a portal. "Or maybe they both want to be left alone?"

She blinked, and her right eye started to smoke under the intense heat. Forcing Kelly to keel over and grip her eye as the letters floated around her. Smoke from her eye, holding onto them with annoyance. Through her right eye, she could always see something the one who spied. Well, what he saw, to be specific. A mirror was right in front of the demon. A man in his early 20s with brown curly hair broke through by antlers that seemed to either spill ink or petrol from every imperfection in the wood. His eyes were big, staring down the mirror for some kind of stability. Not to mention his long tail swiping at the air behind him. His clothes were still looking like a preacher from a school play. He looked incredibly annoyed. This was a very bad day. "Vulture, do I need to remind you not to insult the likes of me so blatantly."

Kelly wanted to scream that this was stupid, and she was allowed to ask questions. But she also knew better. Days like these, you needed to placate him. So Kelly still held the expression of pain and started to add a quiver to her voice. "I am sorry, I didn't mean for my words to cause harm. I was a fool to even think it in the first place."

The demon stared at his own reflection, closing his eyes too to be able to see her. He vaguely shook his head, making some his hair made of leaves fall to the bed surrounding him. "No, not a fool, just a bad day." He looked down at his hands and feet. His hands were now made of wood, and his feet were deer hooves. He hated this form with such wrath. But his eyes told that he knew better than to take her acting as proof. He didn't trust Bill anymore than she trusted him. He finally closed his eyes again.

Kelly sighed as the pain stopped. She breathed slowly and normally not to let the right eye see her weak. All the letters she had dropped were now safely in her hands, and she looked through them again. Filing them into various pockets in her messenger bag. Making sure she didn't put a letter for the wrong timeline or dimensions.

When she was finally done, she walked away until she could find a loophole in the dimension. Leaving it behind to give letters to family and friends.

This is Kelly Ness as a Mailman. They don't get uniforms because she is the only one.

My smol mini series about the drifting stars au is here!! Ft letters to Dipper!! May do more depending on the reception~

[insidekatmind]

A Return~Virgil Van Dijk

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

The sun was setting behind the hills, turning the sky orange as you and your daughter sat on the couch. The little girl, with her brown curls loose, giggled as you stroked her hair, but inside you felt a knot in your stomach. Virgil was thirty minutes late. It wasn’t new, but it infuriated you every time.

“When’s daddy coming?” your daughter asked, looking up at you with those big, innocent eyes.

“Soon, honey,” you lied softly.

As you tried to hide your frustration, a sharp knock on the door made you jump. It wasn’t the gentle sound of someone knocking politely. It was a firm knock, almost impatient. You stood up, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, and went to answer the door.

Virgil Van Dijk was there, with that imposing presence and charm that had once made you lose your mind. His dark eyes were studying you, but they were cold, distant. He was wearing a black leather jacket, and his familiar scent, a mix of wood and spice, hit you like a punch in the gut.

"Hey," he said, barely a whisper. No apology. No explanation.

Behind him, a red Mustang convertible gleamed in the sunset light.

You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You're late, Virgil."

He raised an eyebrow, as if it didn't concern him in the slightest.

"It's not a problem, is it?" he said in that calm, almost mocking voice.

"It is when our daughter waits for you for half an hour."

Virgil's eyes moved past you, to the little girl who was watching from the doorway with a confused expression.

"Hi, baby," he said, smiling slightly.

The little girl ran up to him eagerly. "Daddy!"

The sight broke your heart. How could he be so cold to you, but so sweet to her?

He picked her up in his arms and kissed her cheek, then turned to you.

"Can I carry her now?"

"love go to the kitchen for a second I have to talk to your father" you say to the little girl and she nods

"Okay mommy", he said happily, leaving you alone. He lets out another smirk as he looks down on you.

"What?" he said, his arms still crossed over his chest.

you walk closer to him "don't give me that look you know what I want to say"

he responds with a chuckle, his smirk not fading from his face.

"yeah I know." he said, his voice lowering slightly as you walked closer to him. "what do you want?"

"stop acting like that and take responsibility" you say angrily

he rolls his eyes, annoyed.

"here we go again", he said, leaning against the door frame. "it's always the same with you. And what exactly am I supposed to take responsibility for?"

you look at him in shock and move closer to him "are you seriously asking me that?" you ask angrily

his smirk fades with your answer. His irritation is now written all over his face. He lets out a huff as he looks at you.

"Of course I'm asking. I've done a lot more than you ever have." he snapped, towering over you.

you look at him in shock "oh really? and what would you have done?"

he looks at you with narrowed eyes, leaning in closer. His chest is inches away from touching you.

"I was the only one who took care of our daughter. Since we got divorced, all you did was-" he pauses, taking a breath and calming down. "I was the only one who supported her financially while you were away partying somewhere."

you look at him in shock "Don't make me look like something I'm not" you whisper angrily as you lean closer to him and you were so close

he stiffens as you get closer to him, your bodies almost touching. His gaze darkens as you get closer.

"Oh really? So tell me, what did you do then?" he said softly, lowering his head to bring his face closer to yours.

you glare at him "I take care of her, I feed her, I comfort her which you don't do" you raise your toes to get closer to his face to throw these things back at him

His jaw tightens, he clearly doesn't like what you're saying about him. He leaned in too, his breathing getting heavier as his eyes flashed.

"Bullshit. I take care of her," he snapped, his hands clenched into fists. Suddenly he put his hands on your waist, squeezing them tightly. "But at least I was the one who was actually there for her. You were too busy with parties and men to even worry about her."

"oh now I'm the one who attends the parties?" you look at him and Virgil looks at your lips

He looks down at your hands resting on his chest, as he moves even closer to you. He swallows, trying to hold it in.

“It felt like you were in on it. Especially with that bartender last week,” he says, conjuring up an old memory and holding you tighter.

“We broke up before,” you whisper, and he leans in to your lips.

“Not officially,” he says, still not letting go of the memory so easily.

He leans his face closer to yours, stopping with his lips inches from yours.

“You were mine.” He says, his voice barely a whisper. “At least you were then.”

You look at him, trying not to give in, but Virgil kisses you and picks you up, carrying you to the couch. The kiss was fiery, passionate, and held all the feelings you’ve left unsaid.

He lifts you up and places you on the couch, balanced on top of you. He leans down, hands on either side of your head as he looks down on you.

He takes a moment, admiring the view from above. He smirks, shaking his head slightly.

"God, you look so good like this," he said softly, his eyes wandering over your body.

Virgil begins to kiss your neck as you lift your dress and remove your panties. "Always so sexy," Virgil murmurs near your neck. He kisses it softly, before biting and sucking on it. He moans, and the feeling of your soft skin under his lips sends shivers down his spine.

"You're killing me, you know. This damn dress." he says, his hand stroking your bare thigh.

You moan and watch as he pulls down his jeans and boxers and enters you. You both moan as he adjusts his thick cock inside you.

"Always so fucking tight," he moans softly and pushes hard, not caring about going slow.

He moans when he feels you around him, closing his eyes and gripping your hips tightly with his hands. He lowers his head, resting it in the crook of your neck. He takes a moment, trying to calm himself.

"God, you feel so good. I've missed you so much." he murmurs and starts to push himself hard inside you again making you moan loudly.

"Virgil" you moan as you scratch his back and he moans loudly pushing himself animalistically inside you.

"Look at how you take your ex's cock, you like it yes, she was always good for me" he murmurs nibbling on your neck and you moan.

He lifts his head and looks down at you. He watches you intently, his eyes filled with desire and need.

“Holy shit, I won’t last long here,” he said, a chuckle escaping his lips as he looked down between the two of you. “You’re too damn good.”

You moan and arch up before cupping his face and kissing it. It was a sloppy kiss with tongues clashing. You moaned into the kiss as Virgil pushed himself deeper into you.

His hands grip your hips, moving you in time with his thrusts. He breaks the kiss, panting against your lips.

“Fuck, I’m close.” He said, his face scrunched up in the overwhelming pleasure.

You moan and cling to him. “Me too, baby,” you whisper, moaning.

He moans at your words, his hips now moving sporadically, the pleasure becoming too much.

"F-Fuck. Baby, I'm gonna-" he cuts himself off, throwing his head back and letting out a loud moan as he pushes his hips harder, pounding into you and you moan, cumming all over his cock.

He groans at the way you're squeezing his cock and cums inside you. Virgil rides his release, his body tensing against you. He rests his head against your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"You're going to be the death of me," he says, lifting his head to look at you. He lifts a hand to caress your face and his eyes scan your twitching body.

"I love you so much, do you know that?" he whispers. You sigh and caress his face, "yes."

He leans into your touch, smiling as you caress his face. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off you and laying next to you. He places an arm over your waist and pulls you closer to him.

“let's give it another chance” you whisper and Virgil smiled.

He looks down at you, a small, hopeful smile on his lips. "You mean that?" he said, still not entirely believing it.

He brings one of his hands up to move a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gentle against your skin.

You nod.He grins in response, the smile growing wider."I'm gonna do this right this time. I promise." he says, pulling you against his chest and wrapping his arms around you.

Hearing his words you smile and hug him.  He holds you against his chest, relishing in the feeling of you in his arms.

He rests his chin atop your head, a content sigh leaving his lips. "I missed this. I missed having you in my arms." he said, pulling you closer.

“me too,” you whisper softly.

He smiles, running a hand through your hair. "I'm really sorry for how I acted before. I was an idiot. I should've tried to fix things instead of just blowing them away." he said, leaning a bit down to look at you.

“it’s ok” you whisper caressing his back. "now you're here."He smiles, his eyes closing as he feels your fingers run along his back.

"Yeah, I'm here." he said, holding you tighter against his chest. "I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. I swear."

A comfortable silence wrapped around the two of you like a warm blanket, his steady heartbeat syncing with yours as you lay together. His arms, strong and protective, held you as if afraid you'd slip away, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe him.

Your fingers traced lazy patterns along his back, lingering on old scars and familiar curves. Each touch was a quiet reassurance — a promise spoken without words.

"You don’t have to swear," you murmured, your voice soft but sure. "I believe you."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. But all he found was trust — fragile, yes, but real. His lips curved into a tender smile, one that melted the walls you had built.

"I missed you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible."

You nodded, your forehead resting against his. "I missed you too. But you’re here now. That’s all that matters."

He kissed you then — slow, deliberate, and full of everything words couldn’t express. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was an unspoken vow. A promise of forever.

As he settled back into the embrace, holding you close like you were his entire world, you closed your eyes and let yourself breathe. The storm was over.

He was home.

[favefandomimagines]

You’re Losing Me (a.b)

Summary: a simple courtship was not what you wanted from Anthony and you aren’t sure he’s going to give it to you.

AN: more angsty fluff for our fave Viscount!!

Prompts 1,3,4,8 and 14 used! I switched it up a bit to have a happy ending 😉 @lilithlunastark

Anthony Bridgerton was not a man accustomed to hesitation. As the Viscount and head of the Bridgerton family, decisiveness was practically stitched into the fabric of his being. Yet, standing before the grand fireplace of Bridgerton House, his hands clenched into fists, hesitation consumed him.

The letter in his hand had been crumpled and smoothed so many times it barely resembled paper anymore. The words on it, however, were clear: Y/N was leaving London.

He’d read those words countless times since the letter arrived that morning, the ink seared into his mind: I need space, Anthony. I can’t do this anymore.

Y/N had been in his life for months now. Though their relationship had always been complicated, they had settled into a routine—a tentative sort of courtship.

They’d spent time together, attended balls, would promenade in the garden, and had shared quiet conversations in the Bridgerton drawing room.

There were soft, stolen glances, and moments where it felt as if there might be something more between them. But the truth was, Anthony had always kept her at arm’s length.

He’d never made any promises, she always did. Thinking that one day he’d hear her. He never hinted at anything beyond their tentative connection. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for her—no, he cared deeply.

It was that, in his mind, marriage was a far-off thing, a burden he wasn’t prepared to shoulder. His family, his duties, his fears about love—all of these things weighed heavily on him. He had convinced himself that, for all their chemistry, there was no future for him and Y/N.

Yet, Y/N, with her bright, curious eyes and the way she laughed as if nothing in the world could go wrong, had slowly, unknowingly, slipped under his defenses. And now, her letter felt like the knife of reality digging into his chest.

He knew exactly what she meant by "this." Their tumultuous relationship, full of passion and pain, had reached its breaking point. And though he’d always prided himself on being able to command order out of chaos, Anthony felt helpless.

He could still see her face from their last argument, the way her lips trembled as she fought back tears. The way she’d looked at him—like he’d broken her heart—haunted him.

||

The memory of their fight played vividly in his mind as he stormed through the crowded docks.

They had been standing in the drawing room, the light from the evening sun casting long shadows across the space. Y/N had her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression both defiant and heartbroken.

“You don’t understand, Anthony,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t keep doing this—this dance where I’m always the one chasing you, waiting for scraps of affection. I need more.”

Anthony, his pride stung, had crossed his own arms in a defensive stance. “And you think I don’t? You think I don’t want to give you everything? Do you have any idea the weight I carry every day, Y/N? The expectations, the responsibilities—”

Her laugh was bitter, cutting him off. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare use your title as an excuse for pushing me away. You don’t think I see it? Every time things get difficult, every time I try to get closer, you retreat. You hide behind that cold, stoic mask like I’m not worth letting in.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising. “You know I care for you—”

“Care for me?” she interrupted, her eyes blazing. “You care for your horses, Anthony. You care for the family estate. Don’t patronize me with that word. I wanted you to love me.”

He froze at her words, his throat tightening. Love. He had never said it. He had felt it, burning in his chest every time he saw her, but the words had always felt like a vulnerability he couldn’t afford.

Her silence in the face of his hesitation was louder than any accusation. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “This courtship, this... this nothing—it’s not enough for me. I deserve more than this half-hearted attempt at love. I deserve someone who doesn’t treat me like a passing interest.”

And with that, she had walked out, leaving him standing in the empty room, the weight of her words suffocating him.

||

The docks were bustling with the noise of carriages and sailors, the cries of seagulls punctuating the cacophony. Anthony scanned the crowd, his heart pounding with a sense of urgency he hadn’t felt in years. If she boarded that ship to Edinburgh, he wasn’t sure he’d ever see her again.

He found her standing at the edge of the pier, her trunk already loaded onto the ship. She wore a pale blue traveling cloak, the color washing her face in soft, muted tones. But even from a distance, Anthony could see the tightness in her jaw, the resolve in her posture.

“Y/N!” he called, his voice cutting through the din.

She turned, surprise flickering across her face before it hardened into something unreadable. “Anthony,” she said flatly. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to stop you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You have no right to stop me.”

He took a step closer, his voice raw with emotion. “You don’t get to walk away from me now, not after everything we’ve been through. Not after everything you promised.”

Her lips parted, but she said nothing. Maybe he really was listening to her. Anthony saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“I can’t stay,” she said after a moment. “This—whatever this is between us—it’s too much. I thought I could handle it, but I’m not strong enough. I can’t fix this, Anthony. I’ve ruined everything.”

How could he expect her to go back to their suffocating routine when she had bared her soul to him the night prior. They simply couldn’t.

“No,” he said fiercely. “You haven’t ruined anything. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I’ve been a fool, Y/N, and I’ve taken you for granted. But I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Her laugh was bitter, her arms crossing protectively over her chest. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve hurt, Anthony? If I told you how much I’m hurting right now, would you even care? Or would you just turn away like you always do?”

The accusation stung because it was true. How many times had he withdrawn when things became too difficult, too emotional? How many times had he failed to be the man she needed him to be?

“I care,” he said, his voice trembling. “God help me, Y/N, I care more than you could ever know. And I’m sorry. I should have told you the truth. The truth about how I really felt about you. But I was afraid. I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

She stared at him, her expression unreadable. For a long moment, he thought she might turn and walk away. But then she sighed, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had finally become too much.

“Why now?” she asked quietly. “Why are you only saying this now, when I’m already leaving?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” he admitted. “Because it took the thought of losing you to realize how much you mean to me. Y/N, I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, and I’ll love you until my dying breath.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t look away. Slowly, she took a step closer. “Do you mean it, Anthony? Because I can’t do this again. I can’t keep putting myself through this if you’re not serious.”

“I mean it,” he said without hesitation. “I’ll prove it to you every day for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me.”

Her lips trembled, but a small smile broke through. “You’d better. Because if you break my heart again, Anthony Bridgerton, I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

He laughed, relief washing over him as he pulled her into his arms. “You have my word.”

As the ship’s whistle sounded in the background, signaling its imminent departure, Anthony held Y/N tightly, vowing never to let her go again.

[wikaa33]

my first shift!

so, i went to sleep at like 2 am. it’s really important to mention that during that day i felt worse when it comes to my mental health because of personal reasons.

for this whole day all i’ve been thinking about is how badly i want to be with my s/o right now and generally in my dr. as i was going to sleep i decided that i am not going to try to shift tonight, i will simply imagine my s/o hugging me so i can comfortably fall asleep and feel safe. and i also had decided that i will be taking a break from shifting to focus on my mental health - a funny thing is that i thought to myself “what if i shift tonight? just like those people who go on a break and they shift unintentionally. that would be funny”

i went to sleep. i woke up during the night and i see that there’s a peace of white fabric above my bed. and now, long story short - i decided that if i try to shift in a few days i’ll first shift to my own room with a slight difference (my walls were supposed to be pink or i was supposed to have a white bed canopy). then i’ll shift to my dr. so i wake up and i see this white peace of fabric above my bed right, my first thought was:

“no way that this is happening right now.”

and as i said that i sat on my bed and started to affirm that i am in my dr, that my s/o is right beside me. my head started spinning so much, i laid my head on my lap, i don’t know how to explain it. everything was spinning to this point that i didn’t know what was going on, i saw some bright lights (this is kinda weird because i would never think that i will feel symptoms as i kinda don’t really believe in that but whatever). as i was affirming that my s/o is right beside me, i’ve felt that someone is sitting on my bed. i’m assuming it was him. but well, i got scared! LMAOO and as i opened my eyes i saw that i am in my room.

dumb me didn’t realize that i had shifted. i looked at my phone and saw that it’s exactly 3:20 am. i saw that my door was opened (i never leave it this way). it made me really anxious and i decided to go to my parents room to talk with them and calm myself down. as i stood up from bed i saw that there are a lot of push pins on my floor - white and light pink ones. in my cr room i have them on my walls, so i thought that they simply fell down on my floor. i put on some slippers (that i saw for the first time in my life) which were super small. it confuses me why i didn’t realize that it was a shift tbh, maybe it’s because i was super tired and anxious and all i had in my head is to go to my parents? i don’t know.

so as i am walking through the hallway i see that someone is standing behind the door to my house - i saw that because through peephole i could see that the lights outside were turned on. i walk towards the door and i see a person - i thought it was my friend who lives in front of my apartment. i thought that he was trying to find keys to his house but then he started walking towards my door. he knocked - silly me thought that it would be funny to knock back (“haha he probably doesn’t expect this at 3:20 am, i’m gonna scare him”).

as i knocked back i realized that it wasn’t my neighbor (he had his head down the whole time and just now i saw an unfamiliar face). he started knocking aggressively on my door and i saw that more men were climbing the stairs. it was so scary because suddenly more people were knocking on my door. just before i went to tell my parents, i made sure that the door was locked.

my mom woke up and she asked me what’s going on. my dad came up to me. i told them that some weird people are just behind our door. as i towards the door with my parents i see that the door started to open. it made me panic because i thought that it was locked.

these men walked into our house and THEY TOOK OUT A STUN GUN? i reached my hand to take it away but this one guy tried to use it one me. i quickly put my hand back, my dad started to talk with those guys. as he was distracting them, i quickly grabbed the stun gun. i tried scaring them away but ALL OF THEM TOOK OUT NAILS? (you know, these metal things) i got so scared because i thought that if i use this stun gun on them then the nails will become electrified and they will hurt me or my parents.

and that was the last thing i saw. i guess i got so scared that i shifted back. tbh this doesn’t really make sense but trust me: when i came back i was so confused why i am in my bed. my heart was beating. then it clicked: “omg. i shifted”. LIKE IT WAS SO REAL, SO SCARY I HAD TO GIVE MYSELF SOME TIME TO REALIZE WHAT JUST HAPPENED. I JUST WAS SO SURE THAT IT WAS A SHIFT, IT WAS SO REAL. also, when i came back it was 3:28 which is pretty interesting.

when i came back i was STRESSED. like truly LMAOO but now as i am thinking about it - a win is a win right. I SHIFTED YALLL to a scary place but whatever. i learnt so much from this shift, i’m so happy!! i’m assuming that it was a scary experience because while trying to shift from this “kind of a waiting room” to my dr i felt anxious, gotta work on that but also as i said i’m not feeling well mentally so yeah i’m not surprised

but what i’m surprised about is the fact that i didn’t realize that i shifted. but like, it felt so real that i was SCARED FOR MY LIFE I THOUGHT I WAS IN MY CR. kinda sad cause if i had realized that i shifted i would have been able to shift to my dr from there but whatever! i learnt so much 💗🙏🏼

[coldhndss]

A sight for sore eyes

Yukimiya Kenyu

@sailorstar9

“You don’t have to come by you know..” Your hesitant voice sounded through the phone to the other end of the speaker.

“Sounds like you really don’t want me to meet your family.” He hummed in thought, the clicking of his car’s indicator lingering in the background.

With a deep sigh and a smile to yourself, you wrapped your arms around a large pillow on your bed, placing the phone beside your ear on speaker. “It’s not like that, Yuki. I can’t exactly explain it, but you’d be able to tell straight away if you see it.”

 “…Guess I’ll take your word for it then.” A soft chuckle strung alongside his words. “I’m still going to come over though. I’ll just have to deal with it, right?”

He sounded so confident that it’d be fine, though you worried how things would unfold knowing your younger sister was back from college and would be for a while. She’d always been spoiled by your parents who fold under any pressure from her.

“I… I can’t take this anymore…!” She’d ‘sulk’ to herself, before rushing to her room, locking the door behind her. She’d sit there for upwards of 10 minutes max, and soon after, she’d give up and return with another attempt at garnering sympathy.

For the second round, she’d exaggerate her sobs, heaving and heavily coughing. After a few moments of feature film acting, she’d drop the bomb.

With a hand loosely holding her neck, she’d begin wheezing and shakily pointing to the counter where her asthma puffer sat. You’d seen this hundreds of times. Of course, she had her moments where she’d genuinely suffer an asthma attack. But it was painfully obvious to you when she was faking it.

Despite that, your parents would give in, rushing to her assistance and complying with her out of fear of her having another lethal attack similar to the one she had as a child.

You had a feeling she’d pull a stunt once she sees him, knowing he was out of her reach. Despite your worries, Yukimiya ensured you that he’d be there to meet your parents, not to meddle in things that didn’t concern him.

Ending the call, he told you he’d be there in around half an hour. You quietly let your parents know, and headed back to your room to prepare an outfit.

Sitting on the couch in the living room, you fiddled with the fabric of your dress, nervously waiting. Suddenly, your sister walked in, inspecting the living room with her arms crossed.

“Why is the house so… tidy all of a sudden?” Her scrutinizing gaze fell to you. “And why are you dressed up like that? Having a photoshoot?” She sneered.

“A friend is coming over.” You replied, wondering what made her come out of her room where she’d usually be sleeping until midday.

Your mother was preparing a fruit platter in the kitchen, when her voice called out to your sister. You exhaled a sigh as relief as she left the living room; one step closer to her returning to her room.

Almost immediately as she was out of sight, a knock came from the door. You stood up, flattening your dress and taking one last glance in the mirror before opening the door.

“Ah, there you are.” You were greeted by Yukimiya who was carrying a cake box and a large bouquet of elegant, neutral coloured flowers whose hue matched his clothes. He wore an overcoat that ran down to his shins, complimenting the fall colours present within his turtleneck and pants.

Before you could say anything, the overly familiar sound of your sister gushing met your ears. Whipping your head around, you shot her a glare as though to say ‘don’t you dare.’ It might keep her at bay for now.

He hadn’t even stepped foot inside your house yet, and you were already worried.“May I come in?” He smiled, offering the gifts to you. Taking them from him you led him inside to the house.

“You didn’t need to do all this...” Forgetting the annoyance you felt towards your sister moments before, your lips curved upwards.

“I happened to be at the pastry store and they had your favourite. How could I leave without getting it for you?” He chuckled as the two of you made your way to the living room where your parents and unsurprisingly, sister were waiting.

The three of them stood up, politely greeting Yukimiya. Your father shook hands with him and your mother took the gifts from you, placing the pastry box and bouquet on the coffee table in between the couches.

Though your sister wasn’t even trying to hide her intentions. While four of you sat, chatting together, she suddenly shifted from where she was sitting next to your parents – to the couch you sat on with Yukimiya.  

“A Model?” Your mother questioned “Well, you certainly are very tall and handsome.” She looked towards your father who smiled.

Yukimiya let out a coy laugh “It’s not much, really”.

Though suddenly, your sister’s unwanted voice swamped the conversation that the four of you were having.

“You are handsome!” With a giggle, she inched closer and placed a hand on Yukimiya’s shoulder. “I look pretty good, but what if you and I were together? Two people who are…” Her gaze narrowed as it shifted to you “…easier on the eyes.”

Yukimiya uncomfortably stood, shrugging her hand off his shoulder as he did so. He politely smiled at your parents, excusing himself before asking you where the bathroom was. As you lead him to the corridor outside the living room, your eyes reflected apology - what you had worried about seemed to be happening right in front of you.

Once you returned, you noticed that your sister looked elated, and she took your hand by force, leading you to back the corridor to ‘chat’.

“Where did you meet him?!” She whispered in a scolding tone.

“None of your business.” Your words were blunt, telling her more than enough.

“Is that so?” She sneered. “Well, he won’t be with you any longer now that I’m around.”

That was the last straw. For as long as you could remember, she’s ripped toys, books and many belongings out from your hands whenever she pleased, and once she was done with them, she’d get rid of them. But this time it was something completely different.

Threatening to ‘take’ a person away was low. Especially Yukimiya, who was one of the only people you had met who actually paid genuine attention to your needs, considering your thoughts and feelings instead of treating you like a burden. Ever since you and him became closer to each other, the void in your heart has begun to heal - allowing you to feel what it’s like to be acknowledged and understood. So her threat did not come lightly to you at all.

“You wouldn’t dare do anything.” A scoff escaped your lips as you crossed your arms.

She sighed, mocking you with false pity“Come on, we know how this goes, don’t we?” She whispered, cocking her head to the entry of the corridor where your parents, who were none the wiser to her intentions sat.

“It won’t work on him. You’ll only embarrass yourself.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Though, it seemed that she forgot to consider a circumstance where she might’ve been heard.

The doorknob to the bathroom at the end of the hallway clicked and turned with Yukimiya stepping out wearing a surprised expression.

“Is everything okay?” He smiled, looking in your direction.

Sashaying a few steps in his direction, she locked her arm around his. “Yukimiya… My big sister, she’s...” Cracking her voice into a sob, she began to gradually elevate the sound. Just a few more words and your parents would come rushing.

“She’s.. so mean to me..!” As she rubbed her moistening eyes, he looked at her, confused. He then shot you a look that read ‘So this is what you meant.’ You couldn’t help but snicker a little. Though your little laugh seemed to get to your sister, as she decided that to be the reason for her to start shrieking.

“You have the nerve to let out such an ugly laugh while I’m crying!?” She whipped her head towards you. “You think you’re so pretty just because this guy gave you a second of attention?”

Dumbfounded, you opened your mouth to defend yourself but no words came out. You knew she wasn’t too fond of you but this was a whole new level of disdain. Suddenly, Yukimiya annoyedly yanked his arm away from her, and took a few steps towards you, standing bu your side

“I don’t exactly have a place to speak in this…” He looked at her, then back to you ��family.. discussion. But the way you’re acting is completely uncalled for.” He’d been able to speak clearly for as long as you’ve known him, but to be able to shut your sister up hadn’t been within your expectations.

As he spoke, your parents appeared behind you, confused by the situation. Your mothers first instinct was usually to coddle your sister and ask her what was wrong. Though before she could do so, she dug the hole even further.

“But… but I’m so much prettier than she is! You don’t seriously like her?” She scoffed, folding her arms.

“Like?” His eyebrows were slightly raised in confusion. “I don’t think I’d come to visit the family of a girl I only liked, no?” He wore a smile, but you’d seen that expression multiple times before; and you knew he wasn’t about to lose his cool over a girl like her.

As a last resort, she tried to farm remorse from him; thinking that he’d fall for her exaggerations. She caught a glimpse of your parents standing behind you and him in shock, and panic began to wash over her as she realised that they’d seen the way she had been acting. Her eyes were dry despite all the fake sobbing she had done, and despite this, she began to heave, coughing and placing a hand on her chest. Although your mother did immediately rush to her side, this time it was to tell her off. Your father apologised to Yukimiya, and offered the two of you to sit back down wherever, and that they’d be there soon.

Leaving the corridor, you could still hear your mother and father scolding her, calling her behaviour ‘unacceptable’ as they saw through the act she had been putting up for years. As you sat back down on the couch, an audible exhale escaped your lips. “This is what I was talking about.”

Removing his glasses, he wiped them with a cloth from his pocket as he spoke, “Nothing I haven’t been through before.” He looked at you with warmth in his smile, as he turned his body to face yours. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you for a little – just the two of us.”

Your eyes followed his hand as it reached inside his coat pocket, pulling out a small box. He gently opened it, revealing a glistening gold ring with a sizeable diamond perched at the top. Your gaze lifted, following his hand that took yours as he slipped the ring onto your finger. Warmth crept up on your face as your eyes began to moisten, and once again, you were at a loss for words, although this time was unlike before.

Eventually, you choked out a few words. “Yuki, you…”

Holding your hand with his two, his thumbs held your fingers, rubbing the back of your hand. “I did say I didn’t only like you.” He chuckled, his cheeks painted a gentle hue of red. “Unless, well, you don’t actually like me.”

The growing lump in your throat protested against your words you fought to speak once more. “Of course I like you…” You smiled as a memory played back in your head. “Didn’t I tell you that in high school?”

He nodded in response, being taken back to the same memory. “And what did I tell you then?”

The memory lapsed in your head, the words the same as they were when you first heard them. The redness on both of your faces, how you were too shy to meet each other’s eyes, and the way his voice shook ever so slightly when he spoke.

“That you’d always be with me.”

[justallihere]

rereading fourth wing for the first time ever since reading it in may 2023 so it’s been a while but i think i’m going to have fun with this actually!! jury’s still out on iron flame though lmao

anyway chapter 1 thoughts here you go

“I don’t need the prohibited power of mind reading to know exactly what she sees.” If Violet ends up being an intinnsic so help me god I will turn this car around

I love getting to reread this first conversation with Lilith knowing what we know about her after Iron Flame. She talks about scribes being below riders—not in strength, but in safety. Violet would have no protection as a scribe. It’s fun seeing the true meaning behind her words compared to how Violet takes it—how Lilith wants her to take it, so Violet doesn’t catch onto the secrets she’s keeping

Also she never explicitly agrees or disagrees that Papa Sorrengail wouldn’t want Vi to be a rider. “I doubt he wants much these days” is cold as fuck but actually says nothing about how he’d feel about what she’s doing. For all we know he’d agree. He loved Lilith after all. He had to be as pragmatic and maybe even as ruthless as she was

Oh dear god I forgot the phrase “for the win” was in this damn book

Lilith sees Violet more clearly than anyone except for Xaden. She knows she can use her size to her advantage, and she knows that while her strength isn’t physical, it’s no less impressive

Anyway I love her and I miss her!!!

“Lightning quick” the foreshadowing in this book is not subtle

I forgot that the fables demonize the dragons?? I hope we dive into that more in OS

“…more vocal about her men than I have been…about all two of them.” Okay Halden and?? Or do we count Dain in this?

Rhiannon is here!!

Violet swooning over Dylan’s not-proposal is actually so cute. Baby’s a romantic!!!

She’s so horny 😭 one look at Xaden and she’s ready to climb the man like a fucking tree

“…as if he can hear me over the howl of wind…” not you baby just your thoug—intentions! Just your intentions!

Two seconds into meeting and that muscle in his jaw is already ticking god I love this man

“Seems like we’re even.” “Hardly.” It’s not her fucking fault her mom sucks Riorson??? Leave my girl alone. I don’t love you THAT much

Love that we can see him already rethinking his assumptions of Violet when he realizes she gave Rhiannon her boot

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part - 22 | 23 | 24

masterlist

warnings: swearing, slightest mention of sex

you’d been turning the conversation over in your head for hours, trying to predict exactly how it would go. you knew topper wouldn’t take the news well, and while rafe seemed calm, you could feel the nervous edge in the way his fingers tapped on your thigh.

“you sure you don’t want me to handle this?” rafe asked you again, as he pulled into the driveway.

“no,” you said firmly, “it has to come from me: he’ll take it better if it’s from me.”

rafe gave you a skeptical look but didn’t argue.

the door opened almost immediately after rafe knocked, not even giving his hand time to leave the wood. topper’s usual cocky smirk fell the second he saw the two of you standing together. “what the hell is this?” he asked, clearly confused as to why you’d be together, holding a beer in his right hand.

“hey, top,” you said carefully, your voice remained calm as you attempted not to provoke your cousin, “can we come in? we need to talk.”

his eyes narrowed in suspicion, flicking slowly between you and rafe before he stepped aside to let you in. “this better be good,” he muttered, as though this were some big inconvenience to his day, before closing the door behind you.

the three of you settled in the living room — topper sprawled on the couch, you on the armchair to the side of him, and rafe hovering behind you like a silent anchor. the air felt heavy with unspoken words, and you could tell topper was bracing himself for the potential bomb you were about to drop.

“alright,” topper smacked his lips, impatience coursing through him as he sipped his beer. “what’s going on? you two best friends now or something?”

you exchanged a glance with rafe before choosing your next words. “not exactly,” you said slowly, “we’re… well, we’re together— rafe and i. we’ve been seeing each other.”

for a moment, there was silence. then topper let out a laugh — a sharp sound of disbelief. “you’re joking,” he said, looking between you, “tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not,” you hesitated, your voice remained steady though you were startled by his response.

topper’s laugh cut off abruptly, his jaw tightening. before you knew it, he had rose from his seating position and was heading straight for rafe — blinded by pure rage. taking his thick index finger, topper harshly stabbed rafe’s chest over and over, in between his words, “are you fucking serious? what is this to you, huh? something to just piss me off?”

he was seething, but rafe remained calm, his tone firm and steady, “no, i care about her, top,” he smiled at his own confession, “like really fucking care about her. and i get that it’s hard for you, but this has nothing to do with you.”

topper stood, breathing in and out at a rapid pace, steam rolling off him. rafe continued, “you had no problem going after sarah, so don’t start acting like you have moral high ground here”

but rafe’s words only riled topper up further, “oh, so this is what this is?” topper flashed a grin one could only describe as sinister, “getting back at me for fucking your sister? revenge.”

before rafe could interject topper continued, stepping away from rafe slightly, his finger still pointing in his direction, “you know i always knew you weren’t okay with it. always had a problem with it didn’t you, rafe? you might not have said it… but i knew.”

“not at all—“

“you lying bastard,” topper lunged at rafe, causing you to spring out of your seat in an attempt to prevent the brewing altercation.

you stood in the middle of the two boys. you hands rested firmly on the shoulders of your cousin as you attempted to lessen his anger, rage was still evident on his face — you’d never seen him so angry.

“top, please don’t do this,” you spoke softly.

“he’s out of his mind if he thinks he gets to mess with you,” topper muttered, barely above a whisper.

rafe’s jaw clenched, but his voice didn’t reveal his building irritation, “i’m not messing with her. i— i love her, top.”

you froze at his words, but now wasn’t the time to delve into them. topper scoffed, “unbelievable. you’ve been sneaking behind my back and you think that’s — what? justi-fucking-fiable?”

“it’s not like that,” you ran your hands down his shoulders, in a way to calm him down, “we weren’t trying to hurt you, topper. we just… wanted to figure things out before telling anyone.”

“and you’ve just figured it out now, have you?” topper snapped, “you’ve seriously lost it, y/n. do you even know what you’re getting yourself into with him?”

“i don’t need you to tell me what i’m doing,” you shot back! “i’m not a kid!”

rafe interjected, his tone unwavering, “i’m not playing games, and i’m not here to hurt her. you know me, top. i wouldn’t do that.”

topper’s breathing eventually began to steady as he reached a state of neutrality. he sighed, before turning to you with an intensity about him, “this isn’t going to be easy, y/n. it’s… complicated. and it’s messy— for you, for me, for everyone.”

“i know, but i care about him. i’m not going to just throw it all away because it’s hard or because you don’t like it.”

topper ran his hand through his hair. “god, this is such a mess,” he muttered. he turned back to rafe, pointing a finger at him once more, “if you screw this up, i swear to god—”

“i won’t,” rafe firmly cut him on, “you have my word.”

the room fell into an uneasy silence, tension hanging in the air. you all sank back into your original placing within the living room before topper spoke up, “i can’t lie, i’m not thrilled… but if this is what you want, y/n then… whatever.”

you exhaled i’m relief, rafe’s hand coming up to brush against your back in silent support. it wasn’t perfect, but it was a start — topper would come round.

“you’ll come around,” rafe said with a small, knowing smirk — as though he’d read your mind — earning a glare from topper.

“don’t push your luck,” topper snapped, but there was a hint fo resignation in his voice.

as you and rafe left the house, the weight of the confrontation slowly lifted, replaced by a tentative sense of hope. it wasn’t the smoothest conversation, but at least the truth was out. and that, for now, was enough.

rafe’s close friends story

sarahcameron replied to his story:

nan looking a bit different here 😂

“what the fuck is sarah on about,” rafe laughed, holding his phone up to you as you both entered your grandparents’ home. the house was silent, the elder couple having departed from the living room to go to sleep.

“oh, i told the pogues i couldn’t hang today… because i was with nan,” you grinned down at him, as you shedded your coat while he removed his trainers placing them in their usual position by the door.

“you gonna tell them about us?”

“yeah,” you smiled, hiding your uncertainty: the pogues and kooks had never really gotten along, this was foreign territory and you didn’t know how they’d take it. “i like it when you put your trainers there, by the way.”

“what?” rafe let out a small laugh, amused.

“i don’t know, it’s just… nice,” you grasped his hand guiding him to your bedroom, “a nice reminder that you’re here… with me.”

and with that, he pulled you closer and joined your lips, kissing you softly.

later, when the two of you found yourselves tangled in the sheets of your bed, you whispered, “so did you mean it?”

the room was dark, so you couldn’t visibly see rafe’s face but his confused was apparent, “mean what?”

“what you said at topper’s…” he remained just as confused, “that you loved me.”

“course i did,” he smiled, before planting a kiss on your nose.

“well, i love you too.”

your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, as you pulled him impossibly close, deepening the kiss. his wide hands cupped your cheeks, holding you face like it was the most delicate object he’d even held.

before things could escalate, “you know, i’ve been thinking,” rafe started, “about how much i like this— you.”

a warmth spread through your cheeks, but you stayed quite, letting him continue.

“i’ve never felt this way before,” he admitted, his voice quieter now “not with anyone. and i don’t want to pretend like this is casual or temporary, because it’s not. at least, not for me.

as his words sunk in, your breath hitched, “rafe…”

he shifted closer, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you — though the lack of lighting made it very difficult. “i know things aren’t perfect. i’m not perfect. but i want try — really try — with you.”

you blinked up at him, heart pounding in your chest as he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“so,” he continued, a smile growing on his face though you couldn’t see it well, “will you be my girlfriend? officially?”

the question hung in the air, you were in utter surprise at what he’d said, your emotions swirling.

“yes,” you whispered, your voice soft but certain, “of course, i’ll be your girlfriend — yes!”

he was suddenly filled with emotions of relief and happiness, as he leaned down to kiss your lips once more, before gently kissing your forehead. “you just made me the happiest guy in the world,” he murmured against your skin.

“you’ve gone soft, cameron,” you laughed softly as you reached up to cup his jaw.

“only for you,” he said, settling back beside you and pulling you into his chest.

as you lay there, wrapped up in him, you feet rubbing against his, you couldn’t help but feel like things were finally falling into place.

you’d told topper, albeit his reaction may not have been what you hoped, but you were one step closer. all you had to do now was tell the pogues… and the internet.

your camera roll

a/n: thank you for all the lovely comments, i seriously appreciate all of the love on this smau — not long left to go!

haven’t proof read so sorry in advance :)

taglist: @my-name-is-baby @yesshewrites1 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @fruitcakerafe @littlefreak-liz @wdwbts101 @akobx @lossfairy @marleymarleymarleymarley @jjmaybankmylovee @mbella607 @scream4mami @mrsdrewstarkeyy @honeyluvsatj @rafegetinmybed @hypnotizedstarkey

[spiderfunkz]

SEND YOU MY LOVE ON A WIRE!

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

cw. fluff, reader is alternative and plays the bass, no games au.

author's note: guys i don't know anything about instruments okay💔💔 i'm not sure if i did justice for this one, my knowledge for the subculture is very limited but i tried my best.

wandering through the streets of seoul late at night wasn't exactly the plan for cho hyun-ju.

after a long day at work, all she wanted to do was to eat at her favorite restaurant. she could already imagine sipping on the warm hearty soup. unfortunately though, the place was closed for the rest of the week.

now she has found herself staring into the window of a local pub. the music playing gave her a sense of nostalgia and starstruck-ness. the tunes brought a small wave of relief to hyun-ju, no matter how loud it was, it felt empowering.

a band was putting on a show there. hyun-ju was mesmerized by the melody, the genuine emotions it stirred, and also the cute bassist.

but to her luck the band stopped playing rather abruptly.

a rush of muttering and soon shouting came along with it. the band left the pub silently, walking towards the old van parked nearby.

the bassist followed behind them.

this could be the time to start a conversation with her, hyun-ju thinks, she could come up with many topics. it has been a long day, some small talk with a girl couldn't hurt, right?

"excuse me?" her hands awkwardly fidgeted, she wonders if you were even in the mood to talk. her worries were soon brushed off as she was met with a friendly smile.

"hi!" the light reflected on you, hyun-ju noticed your makeup. it looks flawless, everything seemed to compliment your features very well.

"could i help you with something?" your voice was just as angelic as the singer— well, you were in a band, that talent must've lingered for all the members.

hyun-ju's mouth began talking faster than her head could comprehend it, "is it okay if i ask why you stopped playing in there?"

you laugh, "oh yeah, i guess the guy, owner, whatever- was expecting we play something.. softer? i don't know. i'm assuming he didn't read the list of songs we were gonna play."

hyun-ju nods, "i thought it was really nice."

"the guy thought otherwise," you shrug.

"you played very well there, i only heard a bit of it. but you looked very skilled." hyun-ju's voice made it sound like it was more of a statement. she was genuinely in awe of your talent.

"i'm just the bassist, credits should be given to the guitarist or singer if anything."

"but the bass ties it together, no? it controls the rhythm and pace, i think it enhances the tune of the song you were playing," hyun-ju smiles, she hopes she doesn't sound too sheepish or weird, "you brought a nice sense of energy and aura."

her words definitely struck a chord with you.

"what's your name, pretty?" your words caught the woman off guard, "oh, hyun-ju, cho hyun-ju."

"well, hyun-ju, do you want to grab a drink with me?"

"what about your band?" she gestures to the van that has been waiting for you this entire time, "i can handle it. they won't mind too much, besides, we're not gonna play anything else tonight."

hyun-ju nods, excited.

"okay then, i know a spot."

you motion to the van to leave without you, the bass still strapped on your back. hyun-ju's eyes focused on you before giving a small wave to the van driving away.

hyun-ju was wrong. wandering the streets of seoul late at night was the perfect plan. to meet someone as talented and gorgeous as you, she was able to ease off for the night. forgetting all the worries that laced her thoughts earlier today.

the night felt more lively than ever. you got to tell her many things, such as; your love for alternative rock, how you eventually learned the bass, how you met your friends slash bandmates, and how you discovered yourself through the art of music. you got to share your views and perspectives, your makeup routine, your favorite places to play at— hyun-ju listened to every single word that came out of you.

you noticed it. "say, hyun-ju, would you like to go out sometime? grab another drink maybe, or go to a place of your choice?"

"i would love to."

"okay then," you grab a piece of paper and pen hidden in your pocket, you had this planned all along, did you?

"here, give me a call, pretty."

[sasheemo]

When We Collide

Chapter 14

Chapter Summary: You wake to Agatha's unsettling yet impossibly grounding presence, unspoken questions threatening to unravel a fragile moment. And just like that, walls begin to crack.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N (very long, sorryyy): I still can’t believe it, but here we are. After exactly one month since the last chapter was published, I’m officially back! I can’t promise the creative block I’ve been struggling with for When We Collide is completely gone, but I’m really trying, and I’m so happy to continue this story.

Before you dive in, I just want to take a moment to make a small dedication:

Over the past week, I’ve received an overwhelming amount of love and support that I never expected. Moots, strangers, and even anonymous readers stepped forward in the comments of my update posts on Tumblr or slid into my DMs to show their appreciation and encouragement. You know who you are. It’s because of all of you that, in just over 24 hours, I managed to write an entire chapter after being stuck for a whole month. You gave me an incredible boost of energy and motivation. So, this chapter is for you. To my moots, followers, and each dedicated reader of When We Collide. To everyone who messaged me privately or left a comment on a post or a fic. To those who, even without reaching out directly, have always supported me with their thoughts and good vibes, waiting patiently for an update and never abandoning this story. What you’ve done, and continue to do, for me is amazing. You’ve filled me with so much love and support, and I truly hope this chapter (and the ones to come—yes, they’re coming, hehe) can serve as a proper thank-you.

It’s true that writing should primarily be for yourself, but when you receive this kind of support and encouragement, it becomes something truly special to write for others too.

Let me know what you think of the chapter, and thank you from the bottom of my heart! 💜

PS: Spoiler—I literally felt my heart break while writing a certain piece of dialogue. Had to pause, pick up the pieces, and keep going. Sorry y’all, I couldn’t resist 💔

Chapter Index

Read on AO3

You stir awake to the faint glow of the early afternoon, the light filtering softly through the edges of the curtains. For a brief, suspended moment, your mind lingers in the haze of sleep, the kind where nothing feels quite real, and you’re not entirely sure where you are. Then the weight registers.

The warm, undeniable weight of someone pressed against you.

Your breath catches, your body locking in place as you become acutely, painfully aware of Agatha’s head resting on your shoulder.

Her dark hair brushes against your neck, faintly ticklish, while her arm lies draped across your waist.

You don’t dare move. Not even a twitch.

Every nerve in your body stands at attention, screaming for you to do something. But you lie there, frozen, your heart hammering so loudly you’re sure it’ll wake her. The thought of turning your head to look at her fills you with a mixture of terror and curiosity, and you’re too paralyzed to face either.

You try—really try—to focus on the practicalities. How did this even happen? You’d climbed into bed hours ago, stiff as a board, determined to keep your distance. You’d stayed on your side, curled up awkwardly, staring at the wall like it held the answers to every question you were too afraid to ask.

But then sleep had come. Or at least something like it—a restless tangle of half-dreams and unconscious movements, shifting and turning under the weight of the night’s tension. 

At some point, the gap between you must have closed. At some point, her arm must have found its way across you.

A thousand excuses rush through your mind, each more fragile than the last, as if rationalizing the moment could make the closeness disappear. But they all crumble, leaving behind one undeniable truth: you don’t want to move. Not really.

You tell yourself it’s fear. Fear of waking her. Fear of the look on her face if she realized the position you’re in. Confusion? Annoyance? Disgust? The thought twists your stomach into painful knots. But beneath the fear, another emotion lingers, quieter and far more dangerous.

It feels… good.

You hate how much you notice it, how your senses seem to betray you with every passing second. The softness of her hair brushing your neck, the heat of her body radiating against your side, the faint pressure of her arm resting on you—it all feels far too natural, far too easy, like some cruel joke the universe decided to play.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to move, to shift, to put some distance between you. But your body doesn’t listen. You’re too hyper-aware of every tiny detail, of how close she is, of how safe she feels.

A shaky exhale escapes you, your chest rising just enough to disturb the delicate stillness between you. Agatha stirs slightly in her sleep, a soft sound escaping her lips as her arm tightens instinctively around you.

Your heart practically leaps into your throat.

You swallow hard, trying to convince yourself that this is normal. That there’s nothing strange or inappropriate about lying here like this. That it doesn’t mean anything. That it’s just an accident, a coincidence. That’s all.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. Except it’s not. 

Because no matter how much you want to believe that this is accidental, that she’s completely unaware, a small, traitorous part of you wonders what it would mean if she wasn’t.

You try to focus on the ceiling, on the faint creak of the house settling around you, on anything other than her. But it’s impossible. Because no matter how still you stay, no matter how hard you try to quiet your thoughts, Agatha’s presence fills every corner of the room—and every corner of you.

Your breath hitches as you finally, finally let yourself turn your head. It’s tentative at first, a small, hesitant shift of movement. 

Your chin almost brushes her forehead, and the nearness of her—so close you could count the faint freckles scattered across her skin—leaves you utterly undone. 

For a moment, you can’t think, can’t breathe. The sight of her like this, her face so close to yours, is enough to send your thoughts spiraling.

Your gaze moves carefully, tracing her features as if each one might dissolve into smoke if you looked too quickly.

Sharp and soft. The words loop in your mind like a mantra, and you can’t stop staring. The sharp lines of her jaw and cheekbones, the delicate curve of her lips—they blend danger and allure in a way that leaves you off-balance, like she was never meant to be anything less than both.

Your let your thoughts drift, unbidden, to what you know about her. And, perhaps more troubling, to what you don’t.

You’ve spent all your life in the same coven, shared the same spaces, breathed the same air, yet she’s always been distant. A figure just out of reach, admired and feared in equal measure by most.

You sift through your memories, trying to piece together fragments, to make sense of the person sprawled across you now.

Everyone has been speaking of Agatha’s power in hushed tones since you were children—the raw, unpredictable force of her magic. How it brims with potential but defies control. Even the older witches have always been wary of her, watching her like a storm poised on the horizon.

And then there’s the story. The one no one speaks of outright but that lingers in fragments, carried around by rumors and half-truths.

It was just over a couple of years ago. One of the daughters of your mother’s friends—a girl you barely knew, though her name still echoes through the village homes and halls—was found dead in the woods. Cold, lifeless. Drained.

The whispers said it was Agatha.

They claimed she had taken the girl’s power, siphoned it like a flame devouring a candlewick. That she left her there, alone in the woods, to die. 

But that girl wasn’t just anyone. She was Agatha’s best friend.

The rumors painted it as a calculated act of power, a way to send a message and solidify her place as the rightful heir to the coven’s legacy. They said her magic demanded sacrifice, and she hadn’t hesitated to give one.

But that version of the story never sat right with you.

Even more so now, with Agatha asleep beside you, her head resting on your shoulder, her breathing slow and even in sleep. The idea of this Agatha—the Agatha who clings to you in her slumber—being the monster the rumors describe feels impossible to reconcile.

You’ve always wondered if there was more to the story. If the truth had been buried beneath layers of fear, jealousy, and Evanora’s carefully orchestrated manipulations. 

Because if there’s one thing you know about Evanora Harkness, it’s that she’d burn the truth to ashes to protect her image.

The slow rise and fall of your chest brushes faintly against Agatha’s arm, jolting you back to the present. You exhale shakily, your gaze locking once again on her face.

She looks so… harmless. The thought slips into your mind unbidden, and you can’t stop yourself from clinging to it. Here, now, in your bed, tangled against you, she does look harmless. Innocent, even.

And yet… the stories remain. The danger, the sharpness, the fury—it’s still there, lurking just beneath her momentary serene exterior. 

You should move. You really should. Break the moment, pull away, regain the distance you’re supposed to have. But you don’t. You can’t. Because for all the danger and mystery that surrounds Agatha Harkness, there’s something else, too.

Something that keeps you rooted in place, your gaze drinking her in, feeling her presence in every breath you take.

The stillness is interrupted by a faint shift. Agatha stirs against you, her body shifting slightly as her fingers twitch where her hand rests near your waist. Her breathing changes, no longer the even, steady rhythm of sleep but something shallower, more conscious.

You freeze, your own breath caught in your chest. Her head lifts just a fraction before settling again, her hair brushing against your neck in a way that sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. For one agonizing moment, you wonder if she’ll pull away.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, Agatha lets out a soft exhale, her lashes fluttering as her eyes blink open, slow and heavy with sleep. There’s a beat—a single, suspended second where her gaze adjusts, flitting from the faint light of the room to you.

Her arm remains draped across your waist, though her fingers flex slightly, testing their place. Her lips twitch, just barely, into something resembling a smirk.

“Is this how you treat all your guests, or am I just special?” she murmurs, her voice husky and rough from sleep, the teasing lilt sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

The words pull you from your haze of panic into full-blown mortification, heat rising to your face as you open your mouth, then close it, scrambling for a response. 

“You—you asked me to stay!” you stammer, your voice breaking as you shift just a little, glaring at her. “Don’t twist this into—”

Agatha cuts you off with an expression so faux-innocent you want to scream, her tone light but laced with mockery. 

“Did I?” she muses, her brow quirking as though she’s genuinely pondering it. “Hmm. Doesn’t sound like me.”

Your jaw drops. 

Your heart hasn’t stopped pounding since she stirred, and her smirk only makes it worse. The audacity, the smugness. She’s so calm, like waking up tangled together is just another morning for her.

For you? It’s a waking nightmare—or at least, that’s the excuse you cling to as you try to suppress the heat that is completely taking hold of your whole body. Your fists clench at your sides, and your frustration boils over. 

“You did! You said—” you stop yourself, huffing in exasperation as her smirk turns into a full-blown grin. “Ugh, you’re impossible.”

“And you’re far too fun to annoy.” she counters shifting slightly, her arm sliding away from your waist as she props herself up on one elbow.

You bite back another retort, your face burning as you turn your head to look anywhere but at her. She’s infuriating. Smug and sharp-tongued and—close. Too close.

The silence stretches for a beat, and you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down. 

It doesn’t help that she’s still watching you, her gaze a quiet weight against your skin. You can feel it without looking—how her smirk lingers, how her eyes flicker between amusement and something unreadable.

She shifts again, finally breaking the silence. 

“Well,” she says softly, her voice still carrying that teasing lilt, “if this is how you handle all your guests, I can’t imagine they stay very long.”

Your breath hitches, and you glance at her despite yourself, catching the faintest flicker of something beneath her grin. She’s teasing, sure—but there’s an edge to it, a quiet discomfort she’s trying to mask.

You huff again, crossing your arms and refusing to let her get the last word. “Maybe they don’t. But you did ask me to stay, so if you have complaints, take it up with yourself.”

Her grin softens slightly, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she leans back a little, her hand brushing against the blanket as she rests her weight on her palm. Her gaze flickers briefly to the window, her expression almost thoughtful.

You watch her for a moment, your own irritation ebbing away as curiosity takes its place. She’s still infuriating, still impossible—but there’s something else, too. Something quieter. 

You should let it go. The tension, the moment—it’s already too much and you both literally just woke up. But the question lodges itself in your throat, unspoken words buzzing like a swarm. You don’t even mean to say it. It just… slips out. “What really happened that day?”

Agatha’s head tilts slightly, her eyes cutting back to yours in a sharp, measured motion. 

“What?” she asks, her tone casual, but there’s a sudden wariness in her gaze, the edge of a blade being drawn.

You hesitate, regretting the words almost immediately, but it’s too late now. 

“The girl.” you clarify, your voice quieter than you intended. “The one they say you… killed.”

The room seems to still, the air shifting as the words settle between you. 

Agatha doesn’t move, her expression unreadable, but the flicker of something raw flashes behind her eyes—a shadow that vanishes almost as quickly as it appears.

Her lips curve into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Really?” she drawls, leaning back slightly, the picture of feigned nonchalance. “That’s what you want to talk about? Here? Now?”

Your stomach twists at the sharpness of her tone, but you don’t look away. 

“I just…” You pause, choosing your words carefully. “I just want to know the truth.”

Agatha lets out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head as she looks away again. 

“The truth…” she mutters, her voice low, almost mocking. “You’re the first person to actually ask me for it, you know?”

The words hit you like a slap, leaving you momentarily speechless. 

“Wait.” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “No one’s ever—?”

“No.” Agatha cuts in sharply, her tone laced with dry amusement that barely conceals the bitterness beneath.“Why would they? They already think they know. They don’t need my version.” 

She scoffs, her lips curling into a sardonic smirk.

Your chest tightens painfully at the words, the weight of what she’s said settling over you like a heavy fog. If no one’s ever asked for her version of the story, if no one’s cared enough to hear the truth… then everything you’ve heard—the whispers, the rumors, the stories—might not be true. Or at least, not entirely.

Agatha’s gaze flickers back to you, piercing and unreadable, as if she can sense where your thoughts are heading. 

“I know what they say.” she continues, her voice quieter now, colder. “Some of it’s lies, some of it’s not.”

Your breath catches, her words hanging between you like a challenge, daring you to press further. And you do. 

“But if not all of it’s true…” you ask, your voice trembling slightly, “… then why?”

You hesitate, the question twisting in your chest before it finally escapes. “Why do you let them believe those things about you, hmm?”

That stops her cold.

Her gaze locks on you, her expression sharp and unyielding, but there’s something flickering beneath the surface—something fragile and dangerous and far too human.

For a moment, you swear you see something shatter behind the mask she wears so flawlessly. And when she finally speaks, her whispered answer tears through the silence like thunder.

“Because the truth is too awful.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at her. The rawness in her voice, the vulnerability she so desperately tries to hide, steals the breath from your lungs.

But you don’t back down. Not now.

“Maybe.” you say quietly, your voice softening but steady. “But I don’t think it’s worse than the lies, than the stories people tell.”

Her head tilts slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. The tension in her shoulders doesn’t ease, but there’s something in her gaze—a flicker of hesitation, of consideration.

“You’re persistent.” she mutters, the edge returning to her voice, though it’s quieter now.

“And you’re exhausting.” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual despite the knot in your chest tightening with every passing second. “But since it looks like we’re stuck together—and you’re literally in my bed—you might as well tell me.”

You know the truth, though: you’re not really stuck together. Agatha could leave anytime she wanted—she’s clever, resourceful, and probably already thought of four different ways to slip out unnoticed, if she needed or wanted to.

But you also suspect that getting Agatha Harkness to open up requires more than simple patience. She needs to feel cornered—not with malice, but with intent. She has to know that someone is paying attention, that someone cares enough to ask, and that walking away won’t make the questions disappear. So you hold her gaze, refusing to let the moment slip away.

Agatha exhales sharply, the sound laced with frustration as she rubs a hand over her face. For a long, agonizing moment, you think she might retreat entirely. But then her hand falls, and she looks at you again.

And just like that, the walls begin to crack.

[violetflowers55]

Hot & Cold - Chapter 5

(Dr. Phosphorus x fem!reader)

Synopsis: After your bathroom escapades, Phosphorus completely ignores you, much to your confusion and dismay. That is, until some guy in the cafeteria tries to hit on you. Winding up in the med bay together, you finally let out all your anger and frustrations.

Notes: Does not follow canon events really. Also chapter 6 will be delayed by a day or two, sorry! Ik i told someone this chapter would be back to smut but I decided to push it to Ch.6 so this wasn’t too long.

CW: Physical bullying, death and violence (not as graphic as last chapter). random dude hits on you. Angst kind of.

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

Throughout the thank you banquet, Phosphorus basically ignored you, as if he hadn’t just metaphorically set you on fire in the bathroom. The only time he spoke to you was to ask if you were going to eat the steak sitting on your plate.

“So. What was that metal thing that came out of you?” The Bride asked casually, like it was the most natural question in the world.

“Oh, that’s my, um, metal whip,” you answered sheepishly. Your powers weren’t exactly your favorite topic, but if you were going to keep doing missions with her, she should know. “I can only use it when I turn my skin to steel. It’s attached to my wrist.”

“Hm. Can you do anything else?”

“No, it’s just the whip,” your eyes darted to Phosphorus, expecting some innuendo or witty remark. He didn’t even look at you.

“That’s lame,” The Bride said, taking a glug of her beer.

“Oh I’m sorry, can you make any weapons shoot out of your body?”

She smiled. “Don’t need to.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “But I guess a metal whip could come in handy some day.”

Again, you glanced at Phosphorus. There were so many obvious jokes and innuendos he could make, yet he still paid you no mind. Part of you was relieved he was finally leaving you alone. It was what you had wanted from the start. You still hated him, nothing had changed that. But another part of you hurt by his sudden lack of interest bubbled up.

Did seeing you brutally murder men turn him off? No, because then he wouldn’t have felt you up in the bathroom. Maybe he just finally gave up on you. Maybe your moment together in the bathroom didn’t excite him the way it excited you. You tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t have expected anything different from him. You tried to tell yourself his lack of interest was a good thing. But the longer he ignored you, the harder it was to ignore the nagging voice in your head.

Even on the plane ride home, he sat as far away as possible from you. Being so far away from him made you miss the heat he provided. Catching yourself staring at him, you internally cringed at yourself. You were turning into a simping schoolgirl, and you hated it. You didn’t even like him, so why did you care so much if he liked you?

When you landed, the cold grey walls of Belle Reve greeted you. You’d let yourself loosen up while away, and now you had to readjust to prison life.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered to no one in particular. Phosphorus just walked past you, but The Bride at least let out a small chuckle.

It had only been two days, and you had already forgotten how much prison sucked. The orange prison garb was scratchy, everywhere was cold, and you were surrounded by screeching monsters, all ready to fight each. That night, you laid awake in your prison cell, repeatedly reminding yourself of your rules to survive.

At lunch the next day, you returned to your usual empty corner table. Even if Phosphorus wasn’t ignoring you, friends went against your rules, making The Bride, Nina, and Weasel off limits too. You watched as the four of them got lunch together, feeling a slight twinge of jealousy in your chest. But, you were just fine without friends before, and you’d be just fine without them now.

A hand slammed down onto the table from behind you. You looked up to see a red hulking man with horns protruding from his head grinning over you.

“Hey baby,” he leaned in, his hot smelly breath hitting your face like a dumpster on a hot summer day, “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing sitting all alone?”

Standing up, you grabbed the inhibitor collar around his neck and slammed his head into the table. You were half tempted to rip his tongue out, to let out all your pent up frustrations on him.

“You must be new here.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, his voice strained from you pressing down on his throat.

“Because otherwise, you’d know I’ve killed men for less than what you just called me.” You expected the grin on his face to fade, but it seemed to grow, shifting into a more malicious one.

“I may be new here, but I ain’t new.”

The next thing you knew, you were thrown face first into the ground with such a force it actually hurt. You turned over to stand back up only to see a boot coming down towards your face. Behind it, you spotted the red man watching with a satisfied smile. You lifted your arms to block it, but ended up getting your arms slammed into your face. Not letting your recover, the goon kicked you in the stomach. You wheezed, all your air leaving your body from the blow. Before you could breathe again, he kicked you again, even harder than before. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to crawl away, only for him to stomp on your back. You screamed in pain, desperately trying to make your skin turn to steel despite your inhibitor collar.

Suddenly, you could breathe again. You turned over to see Phosphorus slamming the goon’s head into the wall repeatedly. The guy who originally approached you sat in your seat, signaling to, presumably, more of his goons. Rage filled your body. Any mercy you originally planned to show him went out the window. You grabbed his ankle and pulled him down to the ground with you. Just as you were about to punch through his skull, one of his other goons pulled Phosphorus off the now dead goon, slamming him up against the wall and snapping his forearm.

“Alex!” you shouted, worry overriding your anger.

Of course, that was when the guards finally decided to show up. One pulled you off the red guy while another pulled the goon of Phosphorous.

“Get these two to the medical bay,” the head guard demanded, pointing at you and Phosphorus, “and get this one to the morgue.” He nudged the goons lifeless body with his foot, like he wanted to check he was really dead without touching him, lest he have monster cooties.

The medical bay was the worst part of Belle Reve. You did everything you could to avoid it, not that that was really a challenge. For one thing, they kept the medical bay about three degrees colder than the rest of the prison. Three degrees doesn’t seem like much on paper, but when you’re already always cold, it’s practically freezing. For another thing, the medical bay was devoid of all signs of life. It was far enough away from everything else that you could barely hear the usual clanging and shouting. There were no TVs, no books, no games, nothing to keep you entertained. It was just you and four pure white walls. Except this time, Phosphorus was laying in the bed right next to you.

The clocked ticked as you waited for the doctor to return. Your scans showed no internal bleeding or broken bones, but they wanted to keep you for observation for the night. Phosphorus’s arm was definitely broken, but they had no clue what kind of cast to put on it. That’s what they were doing now, trying to figure what to do.

“You’re horrible at thanking people, you know that?” Phosphorous said, finally breaking the long silence.

“What?”

“I mean, I just saved your life - for the second time, I might add - and you haven’t even asked if I’m ok. The proper thing to do is to say thank you.”

“I didn’t need your help.”

He snorted. “Yeah, you had it covered. If you consider getting kicked around ‘covered’.”

You glared at him. “So why do you keep ‘saving’ me if I’m so ungrateful?”

“I dunno, I liked how you showed your gratitude last time,” he laughed lightly, grinning at you, “and I didn’t even break any limbs before. What do I get for a broken arm?”

“Oh, fuck you,” you groaned in disgust.

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” he teased, acting like he hadn’t just ignored you for 24 hours.

“What the hell is your deal?” you snapped, glaring at him.

“Woah, what?” he said, taken aback by your sudden anger.

“I’m serious. First you follow me around like a lovesick puppy. Then you fuck me, agree to forget about it, but don’t actually. Next you ‘save’ me and feel me up in the bathroom, only to act like I don’t exist until I need ‘saving’ again. So seriously, what the fuck is your deal?”

He stared at you in shock, his jaw hanging open stupidly. When you realized you weren’t getting a response, you turned back to face the wall with a huff. The white walls didn’t ignore you. They didn’t make your stomach churn. They were consistent, reliable.

Christ, am I seriously praising walls right now? What is wrong with me?

You needed real answers, and you needed them now.

“Why do you keep saving me?” you asked, turning over again to face him.

“I told you, last time-“

“No, I want the real answer. I have my suspicions, but I want to know why you keep saving me when I don’t need saving.”

He looked at you, dropping his usual mask. “What are your suspicions?”

You bit your lip, unsure of whether or not to say it. If you were wrong, it would fuck everything up. But there was no way you were wrong, and you needed to hear him admit it.

“I think you’re trying to pay penance for getting me locked up in here in the first place.”

His face went through a myriad of expressions before he spoke, a mix of confusion, anger, sadness, and others you couldn’t discern.

“I’m sorry, what? You think I got you locked up in Belle Reve?” he was more serious than you’d ever heard him be before.

“Oh, don’t play dumb, you know-“

“Wowww, so now I’m dumb? First I’m a traitor, and now I’m an idiot?” he raised himself on his good arm to stare you down as his spoke, his voice dripping in sarcasm and venom.

“Oh please, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I rob a bank you wanted to rob, and two days later Batman’s locking me up for that heist and a million others crimes. It’s not rocket science.” If he wanted to be sarcastic, two could play that game.

“Yet somehow you put two and two together and got five.” He laid back down flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He sounded detached, like he was genuinely hurt over your accusation. You scoffed at his dramatics.

“Are you seriously going to try to tell me you had nothing to do with me getting caught?”

He turned and looked at you before speaking again. There was a mix of sadness and anger in his eyes.

“I’m saying you only have yourself to blame for ending up here, just like the rest of us.”

As his words started to sink in, the doctor returned to take Phosphorus and get his arm casted. You watched him as they rolled his bed out. He didn’t look back.

You flopped back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was right. You only had yourself to blame.

Fuck.

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Five Times Sirius Black Fucked James Potter and One Time He Didn't

(in a slytherin!sirius au...part 3/5. read parts one, and two here)

-

James could hear his mother's voice in his head telling him to stop fidgeting as he continued to adjust the shoulders of his new Healer’s robes. Allegedly, this was how they were supposed to fit, the typical loose sleeves of other robes an occupational hazard. Apparently. As he waited in front of the double doors past the reception of St. Mungos, he was already counting the days until he was no longer a trainee and respected enough to show up to St. Mungo’s in robes far more comfortable.

But as it was, today was a special occasion at St. Mungo’s, the entire hospital buzzing around him, in preparation for the arrival of a donor--investor?--someone who wanted to sign over too much money St. Mungo’s to support the development of a children's ward. Most of the trainees were given the sage orders to stay out of the way and not do anything stupid. One of James’s colleagues was actually given the day off in lieu of coming it at all, to avoid any major catastrophes, everyone eager and anxious to impress. 

Except James.

Not you, Potter. People like you. You have that kind of face that people like. And James was given two orders from his supervisor in preparation for greeting the donor at the entrance of the hospital: 1) look presentable and 2) be charming. 

Both of which would’ve been a lot easier to do if he hadn’t felt like he was crammed into his robes like stuffed sausage, and if the mysterious donor wasn’t already ten minutes late. Nearly fifteen. He sighed, glancing up at the clock on the wall for the hundredth time.

“Did I miss them, Grace?” he asked the receptionist witch, leaving his position behind the desk to stand in front of it.

“Who, Mr. Potter?”

“I’m not exactly sure, I wasn’t given specifics,” he said, “Only to be here at 10 am sharp to greet some…old, rich, prat, and they are the ones who are late.”

“I’m not--”

“And why wouldn’t they be? It makes perfect sense. They can just buy back the time they lost, and surely everyone else has nothing better to do than wait for them.”

“Sir--”

“I’m sorry, I know, this isn’t your fault,” James sighed, “It’s just the principle of it all. I understand they’re giving us money, doing us a favor even. All that gold in a vault, and they couldn’t buy themselves a watch?” 

“James--” she stressed, dropping formalities to give him a look with wide eyes and a polite smile.

“Sorry, you’re just trying to work. I’ll keep my mouth shut, don’t worry,” he teased, turning back around to resume his waiting for the selfish, rude, prick, he was supposed to be meeting, but his pasted-on smile quickly faded from his face. “No.” he whispered under his breath, so soft James barely registered he had spoken at all. 

The years had been kind to Sirius Black. 

Too kind. Too. Kind.

Dark curls skimming his shoulders now, and skin more golden than James remembered it being five years ago, like he had just finished a holiday. Well-fitted grey suit and a black tie, expensive robes draped over his shoulders with casual elegance. The same dark eyelashes. The same cocky smirk. The same burning in his finger tips, confident voice suddenly caught in his throat at the sight of Sirius.

Nearly twenty-five, and James felt all of seventeen again. Or nineteen.

“By all means, please continue. I am eager to hear what was coming next after old, rich, prat,” Sirius said, counting off the descriptors on his fingertips, “Unfortunately, only two of those things are correct.”

“So you admit you’re a prat,” James said instantly, unable to stop himself.

“I was admitting to being old,” Sirius responded, rolling up the sleeve of his robes to reveal a gold watch with a handsome teal face. “As you can see, I do own a watch, and I am perfectly on time, early even. My correspondence indicated I would arrive at half-ten.”

James felt insane staring at Sirius, starched Healer robes becoming hotter and more stifling by the minute, “Your correspondence said ten.”

“Did it?”

“I--” James didn’t have a rebuttal. He did not see the letter, he hadn’t even known who this investor was going to be and was merely following instructors from Healer Bones. For all James knew, he was sent to stand out at reception a half-hour early just in case. For all James knew, no one was expected until noon, and he was just supposed to say “yes!”. 

“No matter. What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

“Sirius Black,” Sirius said, grey eyes twinkling with unreleased laughter as he put on a show for the receptionist, extending his hand to James as if they had never met. Meanwhile, Grace had made herself quite busy with paperwork, keeping a smile on her face, cheeks tinted pink.

“James Potter.” James extended his hand to meet Sirius’s, shaking it briefly. Black didn’t break eye contact, their warm palms meshing together. “Welcome to St. Mungo’s, we are so…honored to have you,” he managed. If Sirius was going to put on a show, so was James. 

“Are you a Healer here?”

He pulled his hands away from Sirius’s, carefully placing both behind his back, “Trainnee, and given the responsibility of greeting you. If you can follow me, Mr. Black, Healer Bones, and Healer Fletscher are waiting for you, and will be thrilled to speak with you further.”

“Oh, but we were just getting to know each other.”

“What a shame,” James replied, with a fake smile, and watched as Sirius rolled his eyes in response now that they were further away from reception, walking through the double doors together. 

It was primal.

But James could smell him. Feel him as they walked in pace, shoulders brushing against one another, perhaps intentionally. Every inch of James was screaming, and he barely contained his sigh of relief once he saw the faces of his supervisors, rushing to greet Sirius and make a good impression.

“Mr. Black, we are so pleased you could make time for us today,” Healer Bones said, presenting her hand to Sirius. James had to stifle his own eye-roll as Healer Bones’s cheeks even flushed as Sirius began speaking. Because why wouldn’t they?

The charm.

The smile.

James knew. Of course, James knew. Even after five years, of no contact-- not a letter, not a run-in on the streets of Diagon Alley, nothing-- James knew how disarming Sirius Black could be without saying a single word. 

James had made a vow, though, at the front of an aisle, his family and friends gathered around him, holding hands with a beautiful, kind, caring, woman, that the night before his wedding was the last time. And it was. 

A marriage.

A war.

A child, who was now almost five years old. 

James kept his vow, staying clear of Sirius, no matter how many times a tiny thought crept into the back of his mind, wondering where he was, how he was, what he was doing, who he spent his time with, every question under the sun. And now Sirius was here, wiggling his way into his supervisors’s minds the way he had done with James. 

Good luck getting him to leave.

Healer Bones turned into puddy in Sirius’s palm, Healer Fletscher seemed to be standing up straighter, gesturing proudly and broadly to the conference room, talking in a voice much louder and lower than he usually did. Did James look the same when he began to unravel around Sirius? 

Absolutely foolish?

“I hope you’ll forgive my lateness, I was merely engrossed in conversation with Mr. Potter here, and completely lost track of the time,” Sirius’s voice cut into James’s thoughts.

So he was late. Bloody prick.

“No trouble at all. I am glad to hear Mr. Potter was a pleasure. He is one of our finest trainees, has a bright future ahead of him,” Healer Fletscher said. 

“Is that so?” Sirius asked, tilting his head and looking at James. “Well, then I’d love to take this opportunity and have Mr. Potter give me a tour of the hospital. Hear more about this bright future and, of course, the future of our collaboration together.” 

“I really don’t think that's necessary,” James said quickly, “Healer Bones, didn’t you say you wanted me--” but James stopped short, noticing the expression on his supervisor’s face that clearly indicated shut up, if he wants a tour, you’re giving him the tour.

“Nothing that can’t wait until this afternoon, if you don’t mind, Potter,” she said, unblinking. 

James smiled, thinking he would rather die than be left alone with Sirius Black, “Of course.”

If Sirius heard the nearly pathetic, whispered whine James made in the back of his throat, sounding an awful lot like his toddler when he didn’t get his way as he walked back down the hallway to begin the tour, he didn’t say anything.

Just smirked.

Dragon hide boots clicking on the tile floor as they made it past the double doors once more.

“You know who I am, you twat.” James remarked, as soon as they were out of earshot and heading into the magical elevators to the second floor. All facades dropped.

“Sure, I do, Jason.”

“You’ve been to the hospital before, you don’t need a bloody tour,”  

“Maybe,” he mused.

“And I knew you were late. Fifteen minutes! You’re such a bloody arsehole.”

“Now, that’s no way to speak to someone who is about to generously donate hundreds of galleons to this hospital.”

“What are you doing here anyway? Sudden change of heart and surge of kindness? Quarter-life crisis? Finally got bored of tucking yourself in with your piles of money and thought you’d take pity on some sick kids? Good publicity? Need to clear the Black name? Or did you just come here to see me?”

“Your ego is showing, Potter. Careful, someone might notice.”

“You’re one to talk. People have jobs to do, you know. This is a hospital, with sick people. Who need us. We can’t just drop everything to cater to you--And this is the Magical Maladies and Injuries Wing, it has approximately 200 beds, and is usually our most impacted unit.” James said, half-heartedly gesturing to the wing as a small group of Healers walked by them, nodding to Sirius, “--and your empty promise to build a new bloody ward or cure Dragon Pox, or whatever else you told them you would do. It’s rude, and it’s cruel, and--”

“Are you going to let me speak?”

“Not if I can help it,” James said quickly, and louder than he intended. 

It was a strategy and the best of options James could think up in such a short time. The quickest tour known to man, and stop Sirius from talking to him. Because that was the problem.

He had been just fine. With his wife, and his kid, and his home in Godrics Hollow, and his blossoming career.

He was fine.

Sirius was the problem, and they were both better off.

Except.

“Okay, fine, this one time, you can talk because I actually do want to know the answer of how you got here, but after that…”

Sirius laughed softly, slowing down the pace of his steps, and the sense of urgency James had to get this done as soon as possible. “My parents have both passed, my Uncle is deceased, which means the Black vault finally belongs entirely to me, and I get to choose what to do with it,” he said, “I’m looking for some worthwhile investments, and this seemed like a good place to start.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Sirius asked back, shrugging, “As you might say, I can tuck myself in with my bags of gold and donate to a hospital that is in need at the same time. There’s more than enough to go around.”

“...Galleons?”

“Yes,” Sirius stated simply, “Merlin knows I don’t need all of it.”

“Well, now I feel like the arsehole.”

“Good.”

“I take it back.”

Sirius grinned, as they stepped into the elevator to the third floor, and his heart turned upside down in his chest. It was just a smile.

This was just a tour.

You have a life. You have a wife. 

“You really didn’t know I worked here?” James asked cautiously, all too aware of how stupid he sounded. 

For Merlin’s Sake.

“No,” Sirius said, “That was a pleasant surprise.”

“Oh.” pleasant. 

“Why did you decide to become a Healer?”

James swallowed, taken aback at the question, and looked down at the floor, running a hand through his hair, “I was forced to go into hiding…and it’s a helpless feeling to know people are out there fighting and you’re trapped inside, and so many people were injured and killed…I just told myself if I got out alive, I’d try to save more lives in the future to make up for it.”

“How noble.”

“I was being sincere.”

“So was I,” Sirius stopping their walk in the middle of the hallway, just outside a group of patient rooms. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you're okay.”

“Not worth anything,” James replied briskly, tugging at the stiff collar of his robes, and pulling down the sleeves. 

“Stop pulling. They look good on you.”

“On the right, you’ll see a wing dedicated in the name of Griselda S. Harrington, she was a Healer who--” James began loudly. 

“It’s just you and me now, Potter.”

“Exactly.”

“How’s your wife?” he quipped.

“Exactly,”  James repeated and stopped in his tracks at the end of the hallway near the annex. “Can we just…can I just give you a tour? Can I just fulfill this obligation I have to appease the hospital, and you can give us your money, and we can go back to…”

“Pretending the other doesn’t exist?” Sirius finished, with a raise of his eyebrow. James closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Was that what he was doing? “That was…nice, wasn’t it?” 

He felt Sirius’s hand on the side of his face and opened his eyes again. Sirius’s robe sleeve was hanging down his arm, and just beneath the cuff of his shirt sleeve, at this angle, James could make out the beginnings of a tattoo. That was new. 

What else is new?

“I don’t need nice,” Sirius said, but James grabbed Sirius’s wrist, taking his hand off his face and pushing it down. “Hm. I guess I didn’t realize you did. Guess somethings change, Potter…”

Forgive me.

“Let’s take the stairs this time around,” James offered, inclining his head to the door they were closer to, rather than making their way back toward the elevators.

“I can’t care, Potter.” 

Forgive me, please.

James pulled Sirius’s arm roughly through the doors before shoving him against the wall of the stairwell. It was satisfying to see grey eyes grow wide with surprise; to hear Sirius’s breathing hitch just slightly. James slotted one of his legs between Sirius’s, grinding his hips into Sirius’s and biting at his ear. 

“P-Potter,” Sirius gasped, head inclining backward onto the wall. Five years later, and maybe this time James could finally have the upper hand. 

James’s hand moved slowly down Sirius’s chest, expensive dress shirt beneath his fingers, until he reached the waistband of his trousers secured with a dragonhide belt. Gold buckle. 

He pulled the it upward, unhooking it, the metal prong clanging against the frame of the buckle.

“Potter,” Sirius said again lowly, head still against the wall, chest rising and falling rapidly. One of his hands on James’s forearm. 

“Hm?

“This is--” James undid the fly of Sirius’s trousers. How easy they fell to the ground, sitting crumpled around Sirius’s ankles, undoubtedly expensive material simply ruined, collecting Merlin knows what else from the stairwell floor. Bare thighs covered in dark, dark hair.

“You were saying, pretty boy?” James asked, before pressing his hand firmly against the visible bulge in Sirius’s briefs. “About not needing nice? You think I need nice?”

“I don’t, I didn’t--” Sirius breathed, but couldn’t manage the rest, James’s mouth cutting off his words. Tongue darting deep into Sirius’s mouth with such force, he felt Sirius’s grip tighten around James’s arm. 

This was better.

The moaning, the dark curls sticking to the wall behind his head, crisp white shirt pulled halfway up his torso. 

“You’re going to be death of me, I think, Black,”

James wanted nothing more than to make a mess of this man. 

“I can live with that.”

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library ✨ Fairy Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

✨ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by MyEnglishRose / @lwtisloved {E, 228k}

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

Or. A Fantasy AU loosely inspired by Merlin BBC where one relationship has the power to define the destiny of the whole land.

✨ Collision by itjustkindahappened / @tequiladimples {E, 226k}

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

✨ Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule {T, 93k}

“Thank you,” Geoff says, taking a sip of his tea. “What did you tell him?”

Louis has a sip as well, lets the tea burn down his throat too quickly, too hot, and he feels it all the way down to his stomach. “The truth. Essentially,” he replies after a moment, licking his lips, relishing the slightly bitter taste of the brew that’s never quite strong enough for Louis’ liking. At least it’s not decaf. “That my dog scented it. That I didn’t touch the body. That I came here first thing.”

Geoff nods pensively. “Did he believe you?”

“Probably not. There’s only so many people who can drown on dry land before it gets fishy.”

or: Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

✨ fae (series) by whoknows / @crazyupsetter {E, 46k}

The wait isn’t long before something starts rustling in the bushes. Harry takes aim, squeezes the trigger, body moving unconsciously. They’re motions he’s done a thousand times before, and his body knows how to do it without the input of his brain now. It’s what makes him such a good shot.

He misses. The shot misses.

Something howls in the woods, a pretty clear indication that Harry hit it, but there’s no telltale sounds of a big body dropping, no animal charging out at him to take him out before he can finish the job.

Something does turn and run, though. “Fuck,” Harry spits out, scrambling to his feet and slinging the rifle back over his shoulder, giving chase. He’s not going to lose this hunt.

The trail of blood goes on longer than Harry thought it would. He doesn’t know how long he runs for, but his muscles are burning, chest heaving with exertion, until the trail just - goes dead. No more blood, just like that.

“Fuck,” Harry says.

✨ through walls of trees by @ineverateakiwi {T, 41k}

Elesdon is a country divided into five kingdoms and had long been considered peaceful. After a coup in the heart of the country, Lady Sulia ascended to the throne and imprisoned the four courts, stripping them of their powers. With the exception of King Louis Tomlinson, who submitted to her favors.

But something is changing on the horizon. Magic no longer obeys her, and scarcity threatens her reign. Desperate to stay on top, she brings Harry and Liam back into play, entrusting them to her most loyal warriors.

The beginning of a series of mistakes that may give them the opportunity they needed to defeat her.

✨ Gently As She Goes by graceling_in_a_suit {T, 33k}

Louis had been Harry’s best friend for as long as she could remember. She was a shoulder to cry on, a head of hair to practice braiding on, a mind as mischievous as Harry’s to scheme up antics and pranks with, someone to fall asleep next to when the nights were cold or when they both got lonely. Someone to dance with, to learn with, to laugh with.

They were girls together.

Then Louis left.

A modern fairytale (literally!) featuring a quest to bring a lost girl home, celtic goddesses, braiding, friendship, true love, and magic.

✨ I Want To Be With You Everywhere by @haztobegood {E, 30k}

A Seed from the Cherished Tree A Cloud from the Mighty Summit A Flower from the Perpetual Volcano A Pearl from the Perceptive Lake A Love across the Faery Realms

Fae Proposals were a rare and ancient ritual. The presentation of the four Tokens to one’s mate would initiate a lifelong, inter-realm bond between their souls. But the Tokens could only be gathered if the lover could overcome the elements of all four Faery Realm Trials.

The Trials were dangerous, deadly even. But for Harry, Louis would risk it all.

✨ Years of Blood and Magic 

by cherrylarry / @beelou , devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain, foreverfanficaddict / @chaotic-bells , idolizingthelightt / @idolizingthelight , @justalarryblog, 

Outofroad / @out-of-road, @perfectdagger {T, 30k}

Harry goes along willingly, but frowns, intrigued by who else is helping Liam on the case. “You have another… like me? In there?” “Hm, not like you. I mean, like you in the supernatural sense? Yes. But I hope you don’t mind, take offence or even feel threatened by him. I was desperate, and he’s been surprisingly helpful behind the scenes like you a few times." “May I know who it is?” Harry stops dead in his tracks right in the doorway just as he sees Louis turning to face him. The spell is broken once Louis opens his mouth and rolls his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Payne, it had to be him?” --- When Detective Payne calls Harry to help him catch the murderer that is killing children and vampires in their city, Harry and Louis must set their differences aside to fight against the biggest threat they have ever faced.

✨ Delight in Masques by kassio / @fakedeepplantjerker {T, 27k}

Popstar Louis Tomlinson has been pulling one over on the mortals for years. In the five years since he put on a human illusion and tried out for the X Factor, none of them have realised that he’s one of the Fair Folk – a cat shapeshifter, to be precise – and he’d like to keep it that way.

When he returns to the X Factor as a guest judge, the last thing he expects is for some half-Siren fool to use magic on the judges. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Harry Styles does. Now Louis has to track down some rogue changeling before he exposes them all. Even worse? Apparently, Harry doesn’t even know what he is.

(An urban fantasy adventure, set in the world of - but not crossing over with - the October Daye book series. No need to be familiar with those books; I just want to give credit where it's due on a lot of the worldbuilding.)

✨ all their words for glory always sounded empty by 5sexualhomos / @hogwartzlou {NR, 26k}

Due to his overprotective father, Prince Louis of the fairies has never left Faefield. When he finally gets the chance to go out into the world, he must keep his identity a secret, which shouldn’t be a problem.

That is, until he meets his roommate Harry.

✨ Away With The Fairies by @snowy38 {E, 22k}

Harry liked pretty things.

Mostly the ornate flowers that grew around him, the trees majestically climbing towards the sky, sometimes the little colourful birds that flitted around in the branches of those trees.

Harry's wings themselves were considered beautiful, big butterfly-like shaped things glistening pink in the light but white underneath, almost translucent.

He fluttered them behind him, feeling the breeze brushing off them. He was high up where he could see the most, studiously watching the human life on the ground below.

He shouldn't be here of course, he was beyond the borders of the part of the forest where his kind lived, but he couldn't help it.

Because Harry had found the prettiest thing of all.

✨ Flowers of Tomorrow, Seeds of Today by @haztobegood {G, 7k}

Louis grows up in a little cottage. Harry grows up inside the Forest. A dandelion grows at the Edge of the Forest. A wish on its seeds brings Louis and Harry together.

Or, Louis is a changeling and Harry is a human and their fates are more connected than they know.

✨ All This Time (I was Waiting for You) by @ohharold {E, 4k}

Harry and Louis have always been destined for each other. Some time apart has Harry reminiscent of their first meeting.

✨ Wonderland by orphan_account {G, 4k}

For the prompt: Harry the fairy takes up residence in Louis’ attic to hibernate through the cold months, but Louis ends up finding him whilst putting up the Christmas decorations. Queue grumpy Harry being woken up, but he can't go back to sleep once he's tried to hibernate, so he starts following Louis around, full of excitement and questions about his first Christmas.

✨ Carry These Feelings by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {G, 3k}

Harry is one of the fae, and has to return to Court once a year to please the Queen.

He makes a detour on his way home to Louis.

Two weeks and I'll be home.

✨ glow. by dontletmedown / @princessyles {M, 3k}

All Louis wanted was to escape the city and find inner peace. He didn't know he would also meet a beautiful fairy that would be part of his meaningful destiny he never knew he had.

The destiny to save.

✨ the most fantastic things by bluegreenish / @greenblueish {G, 2k}

When he reads a fairy tale today, and it’s one about love, Harry will find himself in it. Because in all the fairy tales about love that exist in the world, he knows that a little part of Louis and him is written in between the letters, hidden between every page that curious fingers turn.

or, Harry's version of the fairy tale Thumbelina, minus marrying toads or moles, plus waxing poetic about Louis.

✨ If You're Hoping for a Harbour by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {G, 2k}

Harry finds a ring.

✨ Curiosity by @hellolovers13 {G, 1k}

Fae Harry lets curiosity get the best of him.

Human Louis is intrigued.

[dean-samw67]

can you do cis female reader with sevika in a friends with benefits relationship? maybe smut but lots of angst because reader wants more but sevika is too busy and doesn’t want to commit to a relationship right now. also i love you❤️

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'It's For The Best'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

AFAB!Fem!Reader x Sevika

WARNING: SMUT, ANGST, SWEARING, MINORS DNI

(I love you!! Hope this is up to what you are looking for! It has been quite a while since I have written)

Word count: 2801

The smell of cigarette smoke fills the air as you catch your breath, staring at the ceiling. Glancing next to you after a moment, looking at Sevika with a cigarette in between her forefinger and middle finger. It was always like this. No aftercare or much of anything after sex. Actually, the fact that she stayed for her cigarette is an improvement. Normally she is quick to get her shit and leave. You kind of test the waters and roll over to lay against her chest, arm laying over her stomach. That's when she sits up, pushing you off as she does.

“I got to go.” She says, a little muffled from the cigarette hanging from in between her lips. You let out a groan and sit up, the thin sheet falling off your chest. Sevika grabs her boxers and slips them on, her pants following. You watch her with sad eyes as she moves around the room.

“Sevika-”

“No. You know our agreement. This is nothing more than sex.” She says with a stern look. You bite your lip to keep from saying something stupid. “No strings attached.”

“Right…” You mumble and run a hand through your hair with a sigh. Sevika picks up her shirt and pulls it on in a quick motion.

“You coming back tonight?” You had the tiniest bit of hope in your voice.

“Probably not.” She puts out the cigarette on the ashtray on your bedside table. The one you specifically bought for her.

You go to say something but she’s out the door before you get a chance. Fuck. This is what it has been for a while now. You can’t exactly remember why you agreed to it. It happened by accident really. She was pent up and you really liked her. A lot. So it just happened. Now you are stuck in this loop. You pining while she is only interested in the sex. She said she really couldn’t do a relationship. And you could understand, if it wasn’t for how much it hurt.

You groan as you get out of the bed to head to your bathroom and take a shower. A long one, spending at least an hours wallowing in your sadness before getting out. Your fingers and toes were pruned up from how long you were in there. You step in front of the fogged mirror as you dry your hair, using the towel to swipe at the mirror so you can see yourself.

You look at the way your eyes were red and slightly swollen. You were really down bad.

~~~

A few days later you were back at it. Her hands tangled in your hair as her tongue moved against yours. She was not gentle about it. Her prosthetic hand gripping your hip and pushing your rear end roughly against the wall behind you. All you can do is give in and moan into her mouth.

“Fuck…” The way she muttered that word sent you into a spiral. Her voice was deep and raspy. It drove you insane. Your hips buck forward in an attempt to get some form of friction but her hand held you in place, earning a whimper of need from you. She can’t help but chuckle at the needy sound.

Your whines are replaced by a gasp when she lifts you up off the ground with just her mechanical arm. Your legs instinctively go around her waist and grunt as her body presses you against the wall even more. She bites at your bottom lip, tugging it a bit with her teeth.

She pulls you off the wall finally and in one fluid motion you are on the bed while she is lifting off your top. You stare up at her, pupils dilating as you shift to help her. Your bra is gone just as quick as your top is and her lips are quick to attack the now exposed skin. As soon as you felt her sucking on the skin you knew she was going to leave marks. Deep ones. She knew what she was doing.

“Sevika…” The moan leaves your lips so quick. Her mouth moves over your breasts, leaving marks in its wake. Your hands find the hem of her shirt, tugging it upwards. She assists you, allowing you to get it off. Your eyes trail over her toned stomach and happy trail that stuck out from the hem of her pants. She wore a black sports bra.

She dips her head back down, kissing along the valley between your breasts. Her lips trail your stomach, hands yanking down your pants and panties in a swift motion. You gasp when the air hits your skin and your legs shut instinctively. She pulls your pants off your ankles and looks up with a smirk as she drops to her knees and forces your thighs apart. You look down at her, biting your bottom lip as you felt the way your wetness is now exposed to her.

She chuckles as her hand slides down your stomach and rests just above where you need her most. She glances at you once before her thumb finds your clit causing you to jump and let out a whine of pleasure. “There you go…” Her words are like an electric shock through your body as she touches you.

She always did this. Made you lose control, gasping and moaning, uncontrollably. And she always managed it so quickly. It was almost embarrassing. In an instant her hand is gone and replaced by her mouth, lips latching around your swollen clit. Her hands grasp the back of your thighs and push them up and open more, allowing more access. You squirm as strings of moans leave your lips, your hips bucking against her face.

The soft moans Sevika lets out, sending soft vibrations and increasing the pleasure she gives you. You feel her nails digging into your plush thighs, sure to leave indents.

“Sevika!” The way you moan her name just encourages her to double her efforts. Your legs and body twitch with pleasure. Hand tangled in her short hair, tugging and pulling. If Sevika didn’t know you, she would have assumed you wanted her to stop with how you were pulling. But you were just getting close. She could feel from how the lips of your cunt pulsed against her chin.

Your moans get louder and louder the closer you get to that peak. And she very quickly helped you reach it. Your brain going blank. “Fuck, I love you!” The words slip past your lips without a thought behind them. You were so lost in your haze of pleasure it wasn’t until you came down that you realized what was actually said. Your eyes fly open and you look down, staring at a wide eyed Sevika. “I…” What could you say? You just told her you loved her when your agreement was to be no strings attached.

Sevika huffs and gets up. You sit up fast and grab her arm. “Wait! I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“I should have known.” She mutters

“No, I just was caught up in the moment.” You shake your head, scared she’d walk out, your grip tightening on her arm.

“Was that really it? Or have you been harboring these feelings for a while?” Her look is stern when she finally makes eye contact and you shrink a bit.

You tried to think before saying anything else stupid. “I don’t-”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t actually love me.” She gets in your face while you stare at the ground. You slowly lift your eyes, meeting hers. You couldn’t. “I thought so.” She says when she gets no answer. She pulls away and grabs her shirt.

“Don’t leave, please. We can talk.” You seemed so desperate and you hated it.

“There is nothing to talk about. You want a relationship and I cannot be in one. It's the end of this.” She pulls her shirt on, slipping her arms through.

“Sevika, please.” You get off the bed and rush in front of her. You place a hand on her arm. She grabs your wrist. Not enough to hurt you but enough to stop you and hold your hand away from her. You look at her with sad eyes. She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath before opening them again.

“No.” Her voice told you everything. She would not budge. This was it. Tears build at the corner of your eyes and she has to look away. She can’t stand to see it. She lets you go, pushing a little, causing you to stumble back enough for her to get around and out of the room. This leaves you standing alone as you listen to the front door open and then slam shut.

You break down as soon as the sound of the slamming door rings through your ears, falling to the floor. You messed up. Of course you did. Friends with benefits never work the way people think it does.

~~~

After that you threw yourself into work. Unfortunately you worked at The Last Drop. Sevika’s regular. But you didn’t see her there like normal. You felt a little sad about it. Never thought she’d give up The Last Drop. Maybe she was avoiding you.

You were closing up, wiping down the tables. You hear the door open and a set of feet walking in. “Sorry, we are closed.” You say before turning around. You are shocked to see Sevika standing there.

“You know, it can be dangerous for women to close alone.” She says, fiddling with her fingers nervously. It was a display you never saw from her.

“Don’t reduce me down to a damsel in distress.” You scoff as you walk to the bar, beer mugs in hand. You lower the mugs into hot soapy water and look back up at her. you grab a clean glass and pour her regular drink and set it on the bar for her as you go back to cleaning.

She walks over slowly, almost like she’s testing the waters of how close she can be to you. She reaches the bar and picks up the mug, sipping the liquids hesitantly.

“I didn’t poison it.” You joke as you wipe down the bar.

“I know…” She wasn’t her usual self. It was almost unsettling.

“Why are you here?” You place your hand on your hip. She takes a few moments to answer you, staring into her drink as she seems to think.

“I don’t know.” She finally mutters, sniffing before looking up at you.

“I thought you were done with me.” You can’t help but be snarky. It is what is keeping you from being miserable.

“I was done with the friends with benefits.” She replies. “You know I can’t do relationships. I can’t do love.” You roll your eyes. Your heart ached from her words knowing the way she feels versus how you feel clashed heavily.

“So what do we do from here?” You ask, focusing your attention on cleaning glasses.

“I don’t know.” Even Sevika felt lost. Her normal confident demeanor was gone. You keep your head down as you listen to her sigh. “Go back to before this?”

“Act like we don’t know each other?” You look up at her, anger crossing your face for a second.

“Maybe it’s best. That way you don’t stay in love with someone who can’t give you what you want and I don’t feel like I am stringing you along.” She shrugs and you feel a wave of different emotions. There is no way she's serious.

“Are you dumb?” You scoff. You cringe at your own words. They weren’t the nicest.

“No. It is best for both of us.” Sevika stands up, anger rising in her voice.

“For you. It’s best for you. You do not get to tell me what is best for me.” You snap as you place your hands on the bar, leaning forward.

“Move on, Y/n. Find someone who can give you what you actually want. Because it’s not me. And you aren’t going to guilt me into giving you what you want because you feel bad for yourself.” She crosses her arms as the conversation gets more heated. “And yeah, I feel bad too. But I am allowed to make this choice for myself. You have no clue what I actually have going on in my life.”

Your eyes soften a bit as you listen. Your face was a mix of pain, anger, and sympathy. She lets out a sigh as she closes her eyes. She felt awful for ever suggesting friends with benefits. She knew it was stupid but Y/n was there when she needed that relief the most.

“So that’s it then?” You ask, your voice cracking a bit as you speak.

“Yes. That is it.” She confirms.

“Right.” You mutter and shake your head. You grab her drink and dump it out, cleaning glasses. “We are closed. Please leave.” Your voice was cold and it shocked her. She looks at you with wide eyes.

“Y/n…”

“Do I know you?” You ask as if you didn’t know who she was. Going back to how it was before they knew each other. Sevika swallows down her emotions.

“No… No, you don’t.” She puts on her normal angry looking face as she turns to leave. You watch as she walks out the door. You let out a shuddering breath as the door shuts and let your body relax, head falling.

~~~

2 years later…

Plenty of time passed. You don’t think you’d ever completely be over Sevika. But it was enough to go day to day. You had attempted to be with other people but it was never the same. Everything reminded you of her. The mark she left on you was permanent.

She was still a regular at The Last Drop and you still worked there. But you both acted as if you had no idea who the other was. Barely even acknowledging each other.

It wasn’t until Sevika saw you with another customer one day. The way you leaned against the table. The way you smiled at this random woman. The way she looked at you. Oh it pissed Sevika off.

She knew she shouldn’t be. She was the one who told you she wanted to end things. But yet she still was.

“Yo, what's got you distracted?” One of the guys she was gambling with says, pulling her attention back.

“Huh?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“It’s your turn.” He motions to the cards. She nods and takes her turn. She had lost which never happens. She was beyond irritated. It’s because of you and that random woman. And she took it upon herself to follow you out when you finish your shift.

“Y/n!” She calls as she catches up. You look up at her and sigh as you look back away in annoyance.

“Can I help you?” You as you keep walking.

“Yeah. What's up with you and that lady back there?” She asks and you look at her with a frustrated and confused face.

“What does it matter?”

“Well, you know… she might be dangerous…” Sevika internally cringes at the shit excuse.

“Fuck off.” You mutter and walk faster but she keeps up.

“Hey, hey, hey. Wait.” She grabs your arm. You shove her off with a glare.

“Have you forgotten you ended things, not me. You have no place to care what I do unless you have changed how you feel about a relationship.” You say angrily. Sevika goes quiet. She knows she hasn’t changed on that. She knows she is not stable enough in anyway to be in a relationship. Probably never will be. But she can’t control the jealousy that bubbles.

“Well…” She sighs and goes quiet.

“Don’t worry. I put my 2 weeks in at The Last Drop. You won’t have to see me anymore.” You say as you start walking again. That threw Sevika off. She follow you quickly.

“What? But where are you going?” She asks with wide eyes.

“I’m not telling you.” You scoff. “Leave it, Sevika. It's for the best, remember?” She stops as she looks at you with a frown. You give her a look before leaving her behind.

~~~

You had started your new job and loved it. It was a small business. You worked with a lot of mechanics. Fixing things. You grasped it quickly. You were fixing a clock when you hear the bell above the door.

“One moment!” You call out. You tighten a screw before getting up and turning around, eyes widening when you are face to face with the customer.

Sevika.

Navigation

[flwrkid14]

Love, in All its Impossible Forms

Tim Drake loves with everything he has. He always has. And maybe that’s his fatal flaw—he doesn’t know how to hold back. He throws himself into it the way he throws himself into everything else: completely, recklessly, without a second thought for his own safety.

But love, for Tim, is never simple. It comes in forms that twist and tangle, leaving scars even as it gives him something to hold onto. And if you ask him, he could probably tell you exactly what kinds of love he’s experienced.

There’s love that is doomed.

Steph was chaos, energy, and unrelenting determination wrapped in a bright smile. She was Tim’s equal and his opposite all at once, and when he loved her, he did so fiercely, wholeheartedly. She didn’t just step into his world—she tore through it, unapologetic and unstoppable, showing Tim a version of himself that didn’t have to be so calculated, so controlled.

But their lives were chaos, a whirlwind of masks and missions, and when the dust settled, there was never enough left of them to make it last. Tim loves her in a way that feels like holding sand; no matter how tightly he grips, she keeps slipping through his fingers. And maybe that’s why he held on so hard—because he knew she’d never stay. Steph was never meant to be tamed, and Tim loved her too much to try.

Even when it ends, there’s no anger, no resentment. They don’t blame each other for the way things fall apart. They don’t have to. They always knew, deep down, that no matter how much they wanted to hold on, it was never meant to last. It wasn’t about a lack of love—it was about the world they lived in, the lives they led, and the way they could never quite fit together the way they needed to.

Steph was the love that burned brightly but couldn’t last, no matter how much either of them wanted it to. She was the fire he couldn’t hold onto, the storm he couldn’t contain, and the one who left her mark on him in ways he’d never forget. They were love, doomed from the start.

Then there's love that dooms them.

Kon wasn't just Tim's best friend—he was everything. A partner in every sense of the word. Loving Kon felt like second nature, so easy and so effortless that Tim didn't realize how deeply it ran until it was too late. Until Kon was gone.

When Kon died, it destroyed Tim. Grief didn't come in waves-it came in obsessions.

Tim couldn't let go, so he didn't. He turned to stolen data and secret labs, creating clone after clone in a desperate attempt to fill the void Kon left behind

It wasn't about moving on. It wasn't about closure. It was about holding on to the only person who ever made Tim feel like he could breathe, even when it was killing him to do so.

When Kon returned, whole and alive, it should have been everything Tim had dreamed of. But the shadows of what Tim had done lingered between them. The lengths he went to, the obsession that fueled him—it left cracks in the foundation of what they once were. Kon loved Tim, he always would, but part of him wondered if he'd ever been loved for who he was, or for what Tim couldn't let himself lose.

And Tim, for all his brilliance, couldn't figure out how to bridge the gap he'd created. He oved Kon with everything he had, but love born out of desperation carried its own weight, and he wasn't sure how to lay it down.

So they stayed in the gray space between what they were and what they could have been, bound by love so fierce it hurt, but too fractured to fully mend. They were doomed by their love.

Finally, there’s love that dooms anybody else.

Danny is chaos, but not the kind that breaks Tim—it’s the kind that grounds him. Danny exists between worlds, between life and death, and yet he’s more alive than anyone Tim has ever met. He doesn’t fit neatly into any box, doesn’t follow any rules, and yet there’s something about him that feels inevitable, like gravity or the pull of the tide.

Danny doesn’t ask for Tim’s sacrifices. He doesn’t need to be saved, doesn’t want Tim to burn himself out in the name of love. Instead, Danny challenges Tim to slow down, to stop trying so hard to hold the world together and just be. With Danny, Tim learns how to live in the moment, how to breathe without feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

It isn’t an easy love, but it isn’t supposed to be. It’s a love that demands courage, the kind that doesn’t come from donning a cape or taking a hit for someone else. It’s the courage to be vulnerable, to stop hiding behind plans and strategies, and let someone see every cracked, raw piece of himself. Danny is relentless in breaking down Tim’s walls, not to fix him but to show him that he’s worthy of being whole.

Together, they are something untouchable. Their love is an anchor and a storm, a lighthouse and the waves crashing against the shore. It’s a love so big, so consuming, that it leaves no room for anything else.

And that’s where the doom lies.

They are the kind of love that consumes the world around them, leaving it scorched and battered in their wake. Not because they want to hurt anyone, but because their connection is so fierce, so all-encompassing, that nothing else can survive in its shadow. They are the eye of the hurricane, calm and steady, while everything outside is chaos.

It’s the kind of love that makes people ache to touch it, to understand it, even as it destroys them. The kind of love that people will write stories about and linger in though, long after the last page has turned. Love, that will echo through time in whispers and legends. But no one will ever truly understand it, because no one else could ever bear the weight of it.

Danny is the love that makes Tim believe he might deserve to be happy after all. Together, they are the love that dooms anybody else—unapologetic, overwhelming, and utterly unforgettable.

[sictkrs]

Nervous (pt. 1?)

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡⋆𐙚 ₊

MNDNI!! 18+

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: no smut but constant references to eventual smut, neck kissing, praise, honestly both reader and Steve are both switches with how I wrote this, dry humping, (slight) dirty talk, partial nudity, INSANELY long for no reason like it's just build up, not proof read

Boyfriend!Steve taking readers virginity! She is very nervous but also not because she's trying to be more confident!

I haven't written in like forever so here you go tumblr if you want the part two let me know because it is currently one in the morning and I will finish it tmr!!

Smut under the cut!

“Are you worried?” he murmurs, hazel eyes flicking up to look at you. 

For a moment you want to say no, you'd like to lie and tell Steve that you're just as confident as he is, but it seems that the moment you open your mouth the words fall short. 

“it's okay, I—I mean we don't have to, y'know, if you don't want to.” His thumb runs over the top button of your blouse, the smooth round stud so close to unlatching. 

“I want to,” your words are barely a whisper. His hands drop from your collar and settle on your side.

He doesn't seem to believe you. Here you both were lying in your bed, parents gone away for the night. It's perfect, he'd been sweet and caring, he brought flowers and chocolate. Still, you're tense, and he can tell. He leans back into the bed beside you, head resting on the stomach of a comically sized bear he had won you. You sigh, leaning towards him, he quirks a brow.

“I want to,” you repeat, this time your tone more confident. Or at least as confident as you can be with him around. “I'd like to, Steve, I do, I just… I'm nervous.” 

His lips quirk up a little, eyes trailing down your face as you look at him. If Steve was honest he really, really wanted you. God knows how many times he'd have to come up with some stupid excuse to go and jack off in the bathroom just because he kissed you. His teeth graze his bottom lip before he speaks again, that familiar playful look on his face.

“Show me.”

Your brows pull together, lips parting at his words. 

“How do I—How should I—” you start. His hand travels from your side, sliding down the slope of it to instead find home on your hip, thumb brushing over the fabric of your jeans.

“Just do whatever you want,” He tells you, eyes focused and staring into yours with so much intensity that it jarrs you.

“what if I do something you don't like?” You inch closer, leg brushing his. 

“I'll tell you.” His eyes flick to your lips. “But trust me, honey. I'd like everything as long as it's you.”

His words are so sickly sweet that you're sure you must have gotten a cavity. Steve was always good with words, smooth and sultry, everything you didn't know how exactly to be. 

Your tongue slides over your bottom lip, wetting it slightly before swallowing. When you move closer to him, you can hear his breath the way it slips out of him so quickly when your hands settle on his chest for support, the red wool of his sweater warm under your palms.

“You're doing just fine, sweetheart,” he murmurs, eyes following your every move as you progress closer.

It's not like you haven't touched him before, that you haven't made out in bathrooms or behind the bleachers at graduation, but this was different. This seemed to have more meaning because of what would come after. His left hand moves to your face, thumb swiping over the apple of your cheek. 

“Just focus on right now.”

It's as if he could read your mind, and you wondered if maybe you could read his too. You lean up, lips placing a soft peck on the corner of his lips, bubble gum lip gloss bound to leave a light shiny stain.

He starts to smile again, Steve liked kissing you. You knew that, it seemed to be one of his favourite things, along with the way you stammered or always seemed to get so jittery when you got too close, like you couldn't even handle the slightest touch. You'd like to prove that last one wrong, show him that you could handle him. 

His lips start to lean up, expecting to kiss you back like he always would, but you shift, left hand coming up and moving his face to the side, giving access to his neck. He does it again, the breath sound, this time it seemed rushed, surprised as it falls from his lips. His hand flexes on your hip, as if he's trying not to squeeze you too tight at the feeling of you mouthing and nipping at his skin. 

“There you go… that's it,” he breathes out, head tipping back. He seemed to be just as sensitive to your touch as you were to his.

“Unbutton my shirt,” you speak against his skin, breath warm and heated against the flesh of his neck. He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing.

His hands slide from their place and find the buttons again. He does it quick too, each button popping out so fast that you realise the last time he had almost taken your shirt off he must have been holding back.

You move closer, legs sliding between his as you plant yourself on one of them. You knew if you sat you'd feel him, you could imagine it. The pressure and the rubbing and everything that goes with that. 

You let go of his face once you feel his hand slide into your shirt, palm warm against your shoulder as you pull your lips (reluctantly) off his neck. 

He looks at you, eyes tracing the crevice of your collar bone all the way down to your chest, he could imagine running his tongue along the gaps, sliding and wetting it all down till he reached your core. Steve legs tense as you sit back, shifting on his lap so his thigh is resting under your sex and your own thigh nudging against the crotch of his jeans. 

“Fuck,” he utters, lips parted as he takes in the sight, the feeling. Your own hands slide off the button up as it pools around you, your pretty little bra on display for him. 

“Is this fine?” You ask, suddenly the previous display of confidence disintegrating as you take off a garment. He laughs, hazel eyes looking into yours.

“You kiddin’?” His hands smooth over your sides again, taking in the feeling of bear skin. “might bust in my jeans with the way you're lookin’”

“Steve!” Your cheeks flare.

“Sorry, honey, just—wow.”

You can't help the way your lips quirk into a smile that matches his, leaning forward. A moan falls from his lips but the sweet sound is quickly consumed when your lips fall on his. He kisses you enthusiastically, pads of his fingers seemingly less afraid to press into your skin. Or maybe he just wants to leave marks, as if they’ll remind both you and him of this night. 

“Take it off,” you breathe, words slipping from your mouth into his as you speak in between kisses. 

“I trust you.” You kiss him again. The feeling of his hands trailing over your skin to your back isn't something that's lost on you, In fact you'd rather it occur more after this. 

“You sure?” He pulls away.

His hands find the clasp, unlatching it and helping to pull the garment off of you. Your hands find his face, settling on the sides of his jaw, thumbs resting on his cheek bone as you kiss him. Steve can't help but peek, one eye opening to just see the site of your bear breasts.

“Oh my god.” 

The words are swallowed by your mouth on his. Hands slide hesitantly, but when you lean in, all notion of hesitance stops. His thumb runs over your nipple, feeling the soft supple skin harden at his touch, he moans into your mouth and the sound spurs you on. Your hips move without thinking, sliding over his thigh, your layers of fabric stopping some sensation but not all. You gasp, he pulls away.

“Was that good?” He asks, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you, hands still grabbing and touching your bear chest. 

“Ah—oh,” his head tips back and this time you watch him. You get to view the gorgeous sight of Steve Harrington tip his head back, and silently swear under his breath. His eyes shut, mouth agape as he reacts to even the barest of touches. His lips are shiny from your lip gloss, pink and swollen slightly when his teeth sink into his bottom lip.

You nod, head falling forward slightly as you repeat the action, denim jeans and cotton panties soaking up any slick your needy hole might be leaking. Your hands shift down and plant on his chest, balling up the wool of his sweater. You needed to hold onto him. You do it again and Steve watches, he wants so desperately to see the way your brows pinch together and your mouth part to inhale sharply. Your thigh kicks up, nudging him, he jolts. 

“I—I want, I want your shirt off.” 

He takes a moment, still recovering from the little sensation that still seemed to set his body aflame, then his hands drop from your chest, curling around the ends of his sweater and when you let go of it, pulling it off his body, hair falling back a little more messy at the action. 

Your hands smooth over his chest, traces of regrowing hair flatten under your palms. You would make a note of asking him not to shave it anymore. Your view shifts to his face, Bambi eyes and parted lips meet you, you lean in. 

It's like instinct, the way your lips glide against his when you kiss. Tongues dart in and you can hear the sound of your own saliva mixing with his, you would have found it rather gross if you didn't like him so much.

You pull away, a line of spit connects the both of you. 

“Jeans.. I..,” you trail off.

“Yeah?” He doesn't finish the sentence for you, instead just urging you to instead. He wants to hear you say it, he wants you to tell him what to do again.

“I want them off,” you finally admit, swallowing after. 

Steve is hesitant at first, not because he doesn't want to, no, he wants to, the growing situation in his jeans definitely wants to. He's just not sure if you're ready yet, he swipes his thumb over your hip bone. 

“.. like?” 

“Can I… can I try somethin’ honey?” he asks, voice soft like the hum of a radio.

“I just want to make sure you're ready.”

“I told you I'm ready, Steve. I—I showed you, didn't I?” you say, brows pulling together in confusion. He cracks a smile.

“Not that kind of ready, I mean…” his tongue wets his bottom lip. “Wanna stretch you out a little before we really go all in, wanna make sure it doesn't hurt too much.”

:3 reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

I do not consent to my work being copy and pasted on any other platforms and I do not consent to it being used for ai!

[eletvdna]

Seduce And Destroy

Summary: elena and her little friend group have no idea that the new student in her class might be an another old ass vampire, but, news flash, she is.

You had been sitting in the principals office since morning, hearing him talk about how you should behave and act in school, the rules, the dresscode and whatnot.

You rolled your eyes for the ninth time already, straightening up and getting ready to leave as he hands you your schedule.

"Thanks sir, but next time, talk less to not be a bore," you gave him a tight lipped smile and walked out the door.

But, instead of scolding you or running after you for talking to him that way, he nodded and got back to his work.

You roamed the hallways, not really looking where you were going, since you were looking down at the schedule in your hands.

As you were about to turn a corner somebody pushed you, laughing as you fell to the floor.

"Yo, dumbo, look where you're going!" Chad laughed, you heard someone call his name in the crowd.

"Yeah, sorry, it's totally my fault," you chukled, looking up at him, extending your hand, "give me a hand?"

"What?" He looked around, as if checking if you were kidding him.

"I said, give me a hand."

"Yeah, sure, here," he extended his hand, helping you get up.

"Good, now you see that guy?" You pointed towards one of the buff guys in the hallway, before looking chad in the eyes, "start a fight with him and don't back down till you're unconscious."

He nodded before walking away.

"What are y'all looking at?" You said to students that were standing around you, murmuring about your and chad's interaction.

"Everyone, this is the new student, miss y/n y/l/n." You waved to the class in front of you, smiling brightly.

"Nice to meet you everyone, my name is y/n."

"Yeah, we already heard that!" Some guy in the back shouted, making half of the class laugh.

"Miss y/l/n, you can sit over there, next to miss gilbert," alaric your history teacher said, pointing towards the girl who raised her hand as a wave.

"Hi, I'm elena." She said as you plopped down in your seat, "don't mind people here, they tend to be...mean."

"It's nothing, " you smiled, turning towards the front of the class.

But, still, you felt two pairs of eyes burn a hole in the side of your head.

You were standing in front of your locker, putting your books in when you felt a slight tap on your shoulder.

"Hey, y/n, i was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me and my friends after school?" Elena smiled up at you.

"What for?" You looked at her confused.

"You know, to get to know each other," she said almost desperate as you nodded, making her smile, "I'll send you the location!"

You gave her a thumbs up, before she dissapeared behind the corner.

You pulled out your phone,

Katherine:

See, i told you, she looks exactly like me.

Me:

No, she doesn't, she's prettier.

You shut off your phone, sliding it into the pocket of your jeans.

You looked up at the mansion in front of you, "I think I'm here..?"

"Great, I'll open the door for you right now," elena hung up, and a few seconds after, door opened, revealing her, "come in!"

"This is your house? It's massive."

"No, my boyfriends and his brothers," she giggled, taking you into the living room, where five other people were present.

"I thought it would just be caroline and bonnie? If i remember their names correctly." At your voice all five of them turned towards you, but only two of those people caught your eyes, "salvatores."

"How do you know their last name?" The blond asked from her position on the couch, looking confused.

"What? What last name?" Bonnie and elena looked confused, but damon and stefan were staring at you warily, well atleast stefan was, while damon looked like he wanted to kill you right then and there.

"Y/n," stefan said out loud, sighing as he looked to the side to damon, "what are you doing here?"

"Wait, you two know each other?" Elena asked, but no one answered.

"Aren't you one of katherine's little dogs?" Damon smirked.

"Aren't you the brother she never loved?" You bit back, as you heard a few gasps around the room.

Damon sped to you, pining you against the wall with his hand on your neck.

"Okay, what is going on?!" Bonnie snapped, looking over to us warily.

Again, no one answered.

"My guy, you should know that I'm six hundred years older than you, which means im much stronger than you are," this time you smirked, getting a hold of Damon's arm before twisting it hearing a crack, and throwing him across the room into a shelf.

"Will anybody tell us what's going on?!" Caroline yelled, looking over to you and stefan since damon was still lying on the floor where you threw him.

"It's a long story," caroline glared at me, making me roll my eyes, "but, to sum it up, Katherine and i know each other, stefan and i know each other, and that thing that i just threw, also know each other, how? We used to be friends way back when these two idiots were enamored by katherine, and after that too, before they turned their humanities off, and decided to just eat every living thing on this planet, that's when i decided the smartest desicion was to just leave them be, they were weighing me down anyway."

"Bitch," damon groaned, getting up and sitting down on the couch.

"Are you saying that as 'you're a bitch' or a 'my body hurts like a bitch' choose the answer wisely, or it might have consequences."

"Fuck you."

"Bet you're fantasizing about it," you smiled, looking at elena, "oh, sorry, i have to go, I'm late for work."

"W-work?"

"Yeah, i wanted to say it at our hang out, but, i started working at the grill, and i believe, matt, you're gonna be late too," you looked at the boy next to caroline, who looked down at his watch, "wanna drive with me?"

"No, don't you dare go near him, let alone even hurt him," caroline sneered, standing in front of matt in a protective manner.

"Oh, don't worry, i won't, after all, i was warned by klaus himself, if i hurt you or anyone dear to you, he'll rip my heart out, and we don't want that now, do we?"

"You know klaus too?" She looked at me in disbelief.

"Caroline, love, you're not the only one that guys chase after now, are you?" You smirked walking out the door, and towards your car, the smirk widening when you saw matt jogging up to you.

A/n: first time ever writing, don't judge too hard, like comment, reblog, pls! Tell me if y'all want part two!