#since no one else was under similar pressure

[sanduchengjiu]

one thing that always bothered me and confused me about mdzs is why Wei Wuxian and Jiang cheng were pitted against each other so strongly. Bc even if you take into account that people would assume wwx was a bastard of jfm, in the narrative its something that is common? Or at least in terms of the Jin, there were bastards flying all over the place but I don’t remember there ever being competition about who would be the sect leader, it was always Jzx until he died. So idk if I missed something or I’m misremembering but it honestly feels like most of the pressure came from the fragile relationship between the Jiang parents and less about what society thought. Also favoring Wei Wuxian is one thing but jfm never gave any implication that he was being favored as the next in line, as shitty as his favoritism was. It just makes me feel sad that both boys were under so much pressure for absolutely futile reasons at the end of the day. Like was jc’s cultivation that bad?? I don’t think so?? And even then if he was less talented than wwx it wouldn’t matter bc he’s still the heir. It would be insane if jfm just decided to break convention over talent bc of some sect motto. And I don’t remember there ever being a requirement to be an outstanding amazing cultivator to be sect leader. If that was the case then there would be no hereditary structure to succession, and jfm wouldn’t even be on the roster? Neither would jgs. There was never any importance on their ‘talents’ so wtf was the problem.

Also what was the timeline on Wei Wuxians conception bc he and Jiang cheng were born like a week apart at least at most one year and it seems like wwxs parents were not even at lotus pier since they left to wander together. I feel like that would clear a lot of things up tbh. bc I don’t think jfm capable of finding csr on the road and conceiving wwx and then coming home to yzy and conceiving jc, and csr wasn’t even a yunmeng jiang cultivator it was wcz?? So what was the overlap. Like did jfm get wcz pregnant or what?? Were they regular visitors to lotus pier? To me it read like jfm was a great friend and leader to wcz and admired csr but I read it a while ago so idk. It’s not helped by the fact that jfm doesn’t seem to favor yzy more than is necessary at least outright, and we all know she ain’t the most attentive either. So basically jc and wwx were brought into the world into a weird and fucked up long distance foursome situation and spent their entire youth suffering under the second hand feelings of their parents.

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Babydaddy!Chris x Sweetheart!Reader – Emotional Support

Chris was a mess; it was three in the afternoon, and he was still in bed. Trapped under his thick comforter, hiding away from the sunlight that took over his bedroom. A groan leaves his lip whenever he hears light knocks coming from the other side of his room, “go away!” 

“C’mon kid,” Matt jiggles the knob, cracking the door slightly to poke his head in, “you gotta eat something — it’s been three days.” Nick abruptly kicks the bedroom door open with his foot, “you’re gonna eat these mini pizzas we cooked with love, just for you — or Matt is gonna hold you down while I shove them down your throat,” he spits out, stalking across the room and snatching the comfort off of Chris’ curled up figured. Chris fights his hardest to win the tug of war battle, but he loses, practically giving up, due to the lack of energy in his body. You’d think he’d be fully rested with all the 'sleep' he had gotten the last few days, never leaving his memory foam mattress unless his bladder told him he absolutely had to. Chris wasn’t sleeping his days away like his brothers assumed, a lot of the times he was up thinking about you and his unborn son. About how he ruined the only relationship he ever had with the girl who meant the most to him — the girl who was carrying his baby, the girl who he was certain he wanted to marry one day. 

The last conversation he had with you, he was telling you how sorry he was, how much he missed you, that he needed you home with him. Your only reply was that you needed more space, so that’s what Chris has been attempting to do. Only problem is — he can’t get you out of his fucking head. Chris often stays up all hours of the night, scrolling through your Instagram or the old snapchat conversations he had saved, looking at the old messages from when everything was normal and okay. He was absolutely gutted; he missed everything about you, and he wished he never took the bond you two shared for granted. 

“M’not hungry,” he croaks out, grabbing a pillow to throw over his head in an attempt to block the sunlight that blinds him. Matt lets out a lengthy sigh, “you have to eat something,” taking seat on the edge of Chris’ bed, and rubbing a hand down his back in a soothing manner. It killed him to see Chris in such a sad state, he was usually the life of the party, so it was odd seeing him moping around the house like he had been the last two weeks.

“Chris, seriously,” Nick chimes in, “it’s not the end of the world, kid.” Nick was a bit more insensitive to the situation than Matt because of how close he had gotten with you throughout yours and Chris’s relationship. You were like the little sister they'd never got, when Nick found out about Chris cheating on you, it broke his heart a little bit too. Nick didn’t pick sides, but he definitely showed you more support than he did his own brother. You were pregnant with his nephew for crying out loud. Chris was wrong and he knew that there was no excuse for his actions. Nobody wanted to see Chris in the state of mind he was in, but it wasn’t anyone else’s fault but his own. Nick definitely wasn’t the one to baby him, unlike Matt who loved playing the therapist role to both you and Chris. 

Chris dramatically throws his pillow back and glares at Nick, “it is the end of my world, Nick.” Nick rolls his eyes at Chris’ over-exaggerations, he knew you distancing yourself would last long since you were due in a couple weeks. Plus, you had been texting him the whole time you were gone, updating him on your plans and how you felt about the Chris situation. You were at a crossroads, but Nick knew you too well, he knew you'd crack once Chris applied enough pressure like you usually did.

The two brothers share a similar look, biting back smiles at Chris’ dramatics. Matt snatches the pillow away from him, “c'mon you’re getting up.” He tosses the pillow across the room, adding it to the pile of dirty laundry and Chris’ thick comforter. Another groan erupts from Chris’ chest, the mattress making it come out a bit muffled, “I’m not leaving from his bed until my baby momma tells me to.”

“Fine,” Matt huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’ll FaceTime her so she can see how foul you look — seriously, man. I can smell your feet from the next room,” he tells him before tapping a few buttons on his phone. Chris lays there motionless, calling his brothers bluff. He didn’t think Matt would actually FaceTime you but when your voice sounds from the other side of the phone screen, “yes — Chris?” Concern weaved through your words like a tight braid, your tone makes Chris sit upright in one swift movement. As much as he wanted to cry out to you, confessing his true feelings and expressing how sorry he was, he didn’t want you to see him in the state he was in, he knew you'd feel bad. The last thing he wanted was you to be upset over his own fuck up. “What’s wrong with him?” your voice sounded worried. Chris would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart warm, knowing you still cared made him feel like there was still hope to repair the relationship he damaged so badly. 

Matt opens his mouth to speak but Nick quick wittedly cuts him off, “let’s start with the fact that the kid hasn’t showered in days ‘cause he won’t leave his bed,” pinching the bridge of his nose in disgust. Chris knew his brother was just poking fun at him, only trying to lighten the mood by cracking jokes. A long sigh can be heard from your side of the phone, “well if he checked his phone then he’d know I’ve been texting him for over an hour.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Chris' eyes widen and he's scrambling for his phone. He taps his finger against the screen a few times, only to reveal 6 unread messages and 2 missed calls for you. The last one reading - “I miss you 😑” 

Overjoyed with emotion, a bright smile forms, making his lips curve upwards. Chris stands up on his bed, tangling a hand thru his brown locks before snatching the phone from Matt, “you want to come over? I can pick you up, we can get dinner on the way,” he rambles on, desperately shooting out any suggestion, hoping and praying you'd take his offer. He didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see you. Your absence left him physically and mentally ill. 

“Yeah,” you squint at him, studying his expression. He looked thrilled and exhausted at the same time. Dark circles made their mark underneath his puffy, bloodshot eyes. His hair is messy and tangled like he hadn’t been using the apple scented conditioner you introduced to him while you were gone. Seeing him so unkept broke your heart, but not more than the revelation of him cheating. You shake your head, pushing the negative thoughts to the back of your mind before clearing your throat, “I need to talk to you.”

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The sight of an all-black, tinted out Audi parked in front of your best friend's house makes you take an uneasy breath — you knew exactly who it was. You sigh loudly, tugging your jacket on to protect you from the cool night air. Your best friend, noticing the hitch in your breath, chimes in from the open living room, “he’s here?” 

“Yea,” you breath out, your voice barely audible as you look over at her, “I’ll be back soon. Jus’ gonna get some food and talk for a little.” If it was up to your bestie, she’d lock you up and throw away the key for good, hiding you away from him at all costs. You can tell she’s stopping herself from saying what she really wants to, “be careful and make good choices,” she forces a toothless smile before turning her attention back to the tv. She didn’t want you to go back to Chris; she hated the emotional damage he forced on you, mainly because she was always the one to pick up the pieces once you were shattered and broken. She was a great form of emotional support for you, much like Matt was for Chris. Regardless of anyone else’s opinions on yours and Chris’s relationship, your due date was right around the corner, and you were vulnerable. You couldn’t fathom the idea of raising your newborn son without his father. Each time you thought about it the idea made you sick to your stomach. 

You make your way to his car, pulling the passenger door open to reveal your babydaddy. The familiar scent of his cologne sends a chill down your spine, it was comforting in a way. You sink down into the passenger seat, setting the purse he gifted you last week on the floorboard of his car. Chris was determined to win you back. He made sure he still came in clutch whenever you were craving random food combinations, he left presents and takeout food on your best friends' doorstep with cute notes attached to them - “not a gift to win you over, just a gift to show my appreciation” and “Chinese food because I know Bear won’t let you live without it. I miss you. I love you. I’m sorry.” It was sweet how attentive he still was, even if you weren’t one hundred percent present, he still showed he cared and that meant something to you, aside from his prior shitty decisions. 

“Hey,” he stretches, a gummy smile plastered on his face. You could tell he was happy to be within a close vicinity of you. You set your eyes on him, taking his appearance; he was freshly showered and doused in his signature, making it obvious he was trying to look his best for you. As weird as it sounds, you missed the smell of him so much that it was always like a new craving for you. He shoots you a playful look, already reading your mind because he knew you that well. “You look good today,” he coos, placing a hand on your thigh to give it a squeeze. His firm grip sends tingles thru your core, his touch was another big thing you had been craving while you two were apart. 

You swat his hand away while a dark shade of redness makes its way to your cheeks, making Chris throw his head back to bellow out a laugh, “too soon?” He knew he still had a certain effect on you which is why you never stay around him too long, you’d fold under pressure quick. As much as you wanted to let your smile break thru, there was no time for games. Furrowing your brows at him as you desperately try to hide your red cheeks, “this is serious, Chris — we don’t have time for jokes.” 

His smile falls into a slight frown, and he shifts in his seat, “I know that. Sorry, I jus’ miss you.” Chris reaches down into the compartment of his door, pulling out one of your current pregnancy cravings, “I got you gummy bears,” he presses his lips together in an awkward manner. It was weird to him, not being able to touch and kiss you like he used to – like he really wanted to. A mix of emotions swirl through your gut. You felt guilty for putting him through the emotional trauma of not having his nearly due girlfriend by his side, you knew he was worried if you’d come back to him, worried if Bear would come earlier or not. At the same time, it was validating that he cared enough to go through all these lengths just to get you back – camping outside of your best friend's house, showing up with presents and food cravings. The most important part was him actually leaving you alone when you told him you needed more space. It gave you a lot of time to think about your next move. Was Chris texting another girl worth throwing all the work you two put in?

“I miss you too, but that’s not the topic of discussion right now,” you mumble, looking down to your lap, smoothing a hand over your bumps as Bear kicks repeatedly as the sound of Chris' voice, like always. You weren’t there to make Chris feel worse about what he did, your absence was enough to make him sulk in his own sorrows. By the way his brothers had been texting you nonstop about Chris not even getting out of bed to do his bare minimum daily routine, you knew it was time to stop distancing yourself and actually work past the problem, whether it meant going back to him or not.

A faint smile forms at his lips when he hears you finally say you miss him, “you do, really?” One thing about this whole fucked up situation, Chris never failed to expression his emotions. It was a big change for him, but then again, he acted like a new man ever since he found out you were pregnant. 

“Of course I do, but that doesn’t —,” you fiddle with the sleeves of your jacket, your small voice getting interrupted by his raspy one, “it doesn’t excuse what I did.” You watch as he gnaws at his bottom lip out of nervousness, his wet hair making water stains on his white t-shirt, “nothing will — I know that, Y/N.” 

It was known Chris loved to call you his Sweetheart, so anything less was gut wrenching to you. He was more serious than you had ever seen him. Chris turns his body towards you, his hard gaze fixed on you as his own way of letting you know he meant everything he was about to say, “but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I can be a better man for you and Bear.” His words make their mark on you, making you nod in agreement to everything he was saying. Maybe it was his convincing demeanor or maybe it was because you missed his company. Or maybe it was because he was saying all the right words, telling you everything you wanted and needed to hear. You open your mouth to speak but quickly close it, not knowing what to say, so he does it for you, “I have a therapy consultation later this week,” he starts, clearing his throat before he reassures you once more, “I’m willing to do whatever it takes – however long it takes, seriously.”

You raise a brow at him, staying quiet as your thoughts run rampant through your head, picking at the skin on your fingers as you try to muster up a response. Therapy; he was willing to go through therapy if it meant keeping his relationship afloat and his family together. Chris can practically hear the gears turning in your head. He knew you were thinking carefully, going through all the possible outcomes, and weighing out the future, not only for your relationship but for your unborn son. Chris watches intently as you pick at your fingers, he had picked up on the nervous habit of yours a long time ago. He knew you too well. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and stop you from damaging yourself any further, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. Hot tears brim the waterlines of your eyes, you suck in a deep breath before looking at him, your mouth gaping open to speak but the words get stuck in the back of your throat once again.

You could see the pain in his eyes as he watches you struggle to speak, his voice lower than before, “I don’t want to miss anything.” He sniffles, a stray tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek, only to get whipped away by Chris’ large hand rather quickly. The sight of him crumbling in front of you made your heart ache, you knew what he was implying, he didn’t want to miss out on fatherhood or the chance at a picture-perfect family. You didn’t blame him; you wanted Bear to grow up in a two-parent household as badly as he did. Both you and Chris knew nothing other than being raised by two amazing parents, and that was a long-term goal for the two of you. A family, marriage, a few pets, and a big house on a large plot of land built specifically for your family; it was something you talked about and planned with him for the last eight months. The thought of letting go of all those dreams and goals you and Chris shared together made you queasy. 

He sucks in a breath, “fuck – sorry, I told myself I wasn’t gonna do this in front of you,” letting out a deep breath and pulling sleeves over his hands to collect the tears spilling from his eyes. You sink back in your seat, his outburst felt like he drove a stake right thru your heart, he had never been this open with you. Of course, he expressed how badly he wanted you back and how sorry he was, but he never broke down crying and pleading for you back. The therapy consultation just topped it off, he was willing to work through his faults for his family. You look over at Chris, his body hunched forward while his head is buried in his hands, his wet hair still making water marks on his white t-shirt. 

“I’ll come home,” your voice is shaky and your hands tremble. Chris picks up his head in one swift movement, fixing those icy blue arctics on you. He wipes his face, sniffling once more, “you will? Y’really mean it?” His words come out pushed together as he fights back his sobs. You nod to him, holding your index finger up, “under one condition.” 

Chris’ eyes are puffy, his face red from crying, “anything – anything you want – y'name it.” The urgency in his voice tells you he’s serious, “I’ll sleep on the couch, diaper duty forever – anything, sweetheart.” He lets his intrusive thoughts win by scooping your hand up, interlocking your fingers and bringing it up to his mouth to plant a light kiss to the back of it. The feather-like feeling of his lips leaves goosebumps on your arms and a pool forming between your thighs, you bite back the smile pulling at your lips before looking him in the eye seriously, “couples therapy.”

wc - 3163

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - Long awaited 🫣 I'm so sorry, I rewrote this twice and I still don't know if I like it or not 😩😩 I hope you guys enjoy, though!! Name reveal coming soon if you guys haven't figured it out already 😋😋🫶🏻 Lmk what you guys think, I apologized in advance to everyone I pissed off with this one lmfaoo. Love you guys <3

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[tk-duveraun]

Bingqiu childhood friends Do Not Separate AU. Blah blah transmigrator SY uses his adult knowledge to squeeze a few more years out of LBH's mom and she only passes away right before they go off to CQM.

SY doesn't have a system, but SQH still does, not that it matters at first. SY wants to get himself and lbh on the animals and demonic creatures peak, but LQG still notices LBH and still gets him snatched by SQQ, only in an attempt to mollify LQG (and since sqq wouldn't have taken him anyway) yqy tells LQG he can take SY.

Waifish, wispy, somehow pale SY.

LQG is Not Impressed and isn't one to be socially pressured into accepting anything, much less s personal disciple, but when teeny SY decides he's going to fight yqy for separating him from the protagonist, well ... That changes the optics a bit.

Frustratingly, training the fairy-like SY takes LQG exactly why SQQ uses such "dirty tricks". Not to mention he's suddenly seeing some similarities between his feral street child and disciple era SQQ and he's not liking the pieces he's putting together.

When he sees sy have a misunderstanding with another disciple and refuse (out of spite?) to correct things, he corners SQH about "was sqq trying to kill me?"

("are YOU trying to kill ME?"

"answer the question")

LBH is, despite everything, somehow flourishing under SQQ. (SY using cheats and LBH desperately believing that if he's perfect he'll get more time with yuan-ge)

So LQG extremely grudgingly allows play dates between the two to keep sy from biting as many people (as many is not none)

SQQ allows it bc LQG is acting bizarrely civil and he suspects something is up.

SQH is sweating bullets because his system tells him Binghe must go in the Abyss Or Else and he's not sure if SY is a transmigrator or some random kid that imprinted on the protagonist and didn't die thanks to his own interference

Somehow

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

How about the mk1 characters getting annoyed ( cause you know women like to sleep with pillows or blankets or something between their legs and just lay there cuddled up with a pillow) cause they're cuddling a pillow one I'm their arms and one between their legs

MK1 characters genuinely beefing with a pillow

(bi han, johnny cage, syzoth, tomas vrbada)

this is actually so real of you anon i cannot sleep unless i have 4 pillows with me (requests open as always :D)

Bi Han

-Is offended by the gratuitous amount of pillows you’ve managed to populate the already cramped bed with.

-In the beginning of sharing a bed with him he’d just sleep faced away from you so he never realized this was always something you did; and probably took it personally 

-He suggests that you are being childish and in a moment of mild embarrassment, says you can just hold onto him instead.

-Good on him for voicing his needs and opening up to his partner! But you don’t have the heart to tell him his arms are too muscly and less comfortable than your pillows. 

-In the mornings he stores the extra pillows under the bed or on the seats to make everything look neat because you DON'T no matter how much HE TELLS YOU.  

-In the warm summer months when shit is hot as hell you will forgo it because who needs them when you have the equivalent of “cold pillow side” all night! 

-It makes him feel like he’s the little spoon, which he doesn’t appreciate, and you get really sweaty at around 4am, which he appreciates even less, but it’s very grounding and the pressure makes it easy to sleep 

-He always wakes up really disoriented and mistakes you for the blanket (read: almost tosses you off the bed as he gets up)

 Johnny Cage

-This is equivalent to letting your dog sleep at the foot of the bed (except let's be real you’ve probably done something similar to him) 

-Thinks its super cute when he comes into the room after his shower and sees you all comfy and snuggled up, expecting you to reach for him all sleepy once he gets under the covers

-And when I tell you it hurts his pride like nothing else, when you turn around to get into a better position

-Babe i'm RIGHT here (gets a bolster thrown at his head)

-Out of spite he’ll copy you and sleep with the bolster instead of holding you, and immediately gets the appeal

-Because yes he loves you dearly, but he can’t exactly fold you three times to fit under his bad knee (as much as he wants to)

-As time goes on you both now have more extra pillows, bolsters and djungelskogs than you know what to do with.

-(you two both have one except he weighs like a brick shit ton so his is extremely disfigured and looks like a sack)

-He thinks you look really hot when you lay on your side cuddling all the pillows

-You’ll just be watching TV and he’s got the googly eyes ok calm down buddy not while you’re wearing the muumuu��

Syzoth

-Thinks you are building a nest because there is no other reason someone needs five pillows and two throw blankets

-Though this is coming from a man who spent most of his life sleeping on the cobblestone floor 

-Over the next few weeks he comes back to you with an assortment of sort fluffy…things

-You don’t have the heart to ask why he’s suddenly showering you with gifts, initially thinking it’s good nature but hey ok there’s a limit to your patience AND space on this bed. 

-The teddy bears are adorable, but spa…towels? Does he know what a spa is? You have more questions than answers.

-Every time you thank him he gets quietly excited since he thinks this is confirmation that you are nesting and possibly want to start a family with him

-Doesn’t actually mind the part with you not cuddling with him as often, he usually just lightly holds your hand or big spoons you 

-The day you actually ask him about it, and eventually have to break the news that no you are not nesting and that it’s just for your comfort, he deflates like a balloon

-Bless his heart you spend the rest of the day begging for forgiveness and clinging onto him like a koala explaining your side

-“Does that mean… you are uncomfortable with me?” NO IT’S JUST SECOND NATURE SYZOTH!! LIKE WHEN YOU WANT TO BASK ON A ROCK!! SECOND NATURE!

-He looks at you pointedly. Just because he’s zaterran doesn’t mean he’s going to behave like an iguana…. Not the zaterran discrimination…

-You compromise using him in replacement, and grow to enjoy the feeling of your new pillows occasionally squirming under your iron death grip.

Tomas Vrbada

-Will cheerfully use his herculean strength to just wriggle through your grip so you hold him and not the pillows. 

-Wiggles up like a snake coming out a pot until he can wrangle his arms above yours and hug you

-Just starts telling you about his day like its a normal conversation while you lay there completely stunlocked 

-It’s also just a reminder that as sweet and kind your partner is, he is also insanely strong and is just careful to be soft with you 

-If you’re both laying in bed and you prefer to cuddle up with pillows he’ll just stare at you with the saddest, wettest boba eyes using his curled up forearm as a pillow 

-And since you are merely a mortal man you relent and cling onto him instead

-At the same time he likes when you rest your head on his chest and hold onto a bolster, a perfect combination of not overheating and physical touch

-Biggest flaw is that he tends to spook you with how quietly he enters the room, so more often than not he is getting PELTED by that soft Egyptian cotton pillow at light speeds

-He’ll catch it 80% of the time and laugh, the other 20% he’s equally scared and the thing takes him down like it’s Sisyphus’ boulder and he’s the hill

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count:  4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

[alkaline-wtr]

Simon x roommate!reader

Description: Reader secretly gets herself off to fantasies of Simon.

Genre/Warnings: Ghost x plus size!reader, masturbation, light smut, roommate au, reader has female anatomy, reader is kind of a creep, one-shot

WC: 759

My Masterlist

** Iv'e been working on improving my writting skills especially in the smut genre, and since I'm seeing a lot of roomate!Simon on my TL lately how about we flip the roles? And let's throw in a bit of insecure plus size!reader as well because, why not? Enjoy.

You were at that point in your cycle. You know the one, that strange week when your brain becomes sex-craved. When even the most random things could trigger a warm feeling between your legs, causing your cheeks to flush as the nerves throughout your body wake up.

'I am no better than a man.'

You thought to yourself as your roommate Simon emerged from the steamy bathroom post-shower gripping the corners of his plush black towel around his hips.

You could still smell the oceanic scent of his body wash as it wafted into the living room. The steam evaporated off his broad shoulders. You could only hope he wouldn't glance in your direction or else he'd catch you unable to tear your eyes away from his tall frame.

Luckily, he was unaware of your eyes searing into his muscular back as he turned down the hall to his bedroom.

There it was: the aching feeling in your stomach. Your mind raced with thoughts. You had to stop yourself from biting your lip at the images conjured in your mind of Simon's large hands massaging the fat of your thigh.

Of course, you didn't think he'd ever go for you. The reality of it was always there to remind you, the similar appearances of his previous flings were all dramatically different from you. All picture-perfect, thin, young women who he had been able to pick up at the bar after buying them a couple extra drinks.

Oh, how you wished to be one of the women Simon would guide through the living room late at night. His hand rested on their lower backs to keep them steady as he ushered them to his bedroom. You were ashamed to admit it, but you'd listened to them a couple of times, in your own self-indulgence matching the pace of your curled fingers to the smack of his headboard on your shared wall.

Simon always apologized the next morning, eyes downcast as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Just got a bit carried away, yea?"

You brushed it off blushing at the fact that you'd unbeknownst to him enjoyed the muffled grunts and creaking of his mattress. Would Simon be disgusted to know that you used the sounds to fuel your lustful fantasies? Or would he laugh, finding it pathetic what played in your mind as you bit your pillow, toes curling against your comforter as you brought yourself to your own climax in the next room over?

You fidgeted with the hem of your T-shirt. Hoping he would only think the redness rising in your cheeks was due to embarrassment from the awkward situation.

"Must've been asleep. I never heard a thing."

It made you guilty to see his embarrassment after, when he realized an apology wasn't necessary and had in fact only brought attention to last night's activities.

Most often your relief came from standing hunched over the corner of the shower. Your leg propped up on the tub, showerhead in hand, cheek pressed against the cool white tiles on the wall as you closed your eyes to envision Simon on his knees. Dreaming of tangling your fingers in his blonde hair while he wraps his strong arm under the meat of your thigh to hold you in the perfect position.

Your wrist flicked back and forth in quick movements attempting to imitate the motion of Simon's flat tongue licking stripes along your slick folds with the water jets, turning the water pressure up gradually as you grew closer and closer to your peak.

The climax overtook your body, mouth agape as you suppressed the moan threatening to escape. Your knees shook and grew weak beneath you. Tiny stars clouded your vision as you pressed your body against the wall to keep yourself upright. The rush of dopamine was short-lived leaving you to finish your shower in an unsatisfied silence knowing this was in no way comparable to the real thing.

A tinge of guilt settled in your stomach. The warmth you'd felt in those fleeting moments of need was gone now, leaving your mind void of thoughts. Only the sound of the water drumming on the floor of the tub rang in your ears as you rinsed off the remaining suds of your shampoo.

Maybe one day you'd be brave enough to confront Simon with your feelings. To boldly explain your desire for him. But for now, you would continue to hold back, locking away each fantasy, clinging to the hope that one day things might be different.

Part 2 >>

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers EP4: Is Bison Playing Dumb?

Before the series aired, I did wonder if we were going to get a Mr and Mrs Smith type scenario at some point. The 'I know that you know that I know' type mind game which goes both ways, where both parties are pretending to be none the wiser until the time is right.

Up until Episode 4, Bison had some reservations but there was some ambiguity in regards to how much he bought into Kant's attentions and believed his own words in Kant's defence. Since being poisoned, Bison's gut instinct is louder than ever before. Paired with Fadel's reproachful reasoning and the evidence against Kant is mounting up so fast that Bison's excuses cannot deter the warning signs anymore.

So when Bison goes to 'confront' Kant with a pocketknife in hand, he's on a mission of his own. Despite what this implies, he not going on the immediate offence. He plans to put Kant on trial. He's going to do this his way, not how Fadel expects him to.

Now Kant is a pretty terrible liar as far as liars go. When Bison closely scrutinises his every move under an accusatory gaze rather than one of just slight suspicion, Kant visibly buckles under the pressure. It requires him to lie in a much more overt, blatant and upfront manner, which he stumbles through under Bison's unrelenting spotlight. Later on Bison directly asks him, "You're not hiding anything else from me, are you?" You could read this as Bison re-assessing whether he can afford to give Kant another chance, but to me it felt like Bison was almost tempting Kant to lie to his face. He already knows Kant has not been completely truthful. What he may be re-affirming is the extent to which Kant is choosing to continue lying to him. 'You must know that I'm onto you, why are you still keeping up the pretence?'

Every time he questions Kant, it's an invitation to come clean; to drop the act, to fess up or slip up. When he presses, he's testing to see if Kant will forfeit the information himself, but he continues to dodge, swerve and deflect. And actually, it's no coincidence that their first ever interaction plays out on very similar footing. Kant initially flirts with Bison under a guise of bravado. When Bison doesn't buy into it because he dislikes the façade, Kant changes tack and goes for a candid approach. That's when Bison gives him a chance, and his smile says 'See, why didn't you just start with that to begin with?'

Unsurprisingly, it's when Kant 'drops the act' that Bison wavers because he detects genuine sincerity. Even if Bison is harbouring anger, he's also acknowledging that Kant hasn't lied about absolutely everything. And that's enough to maintain a small concession. Based on next week's preview, I wonder if Bison intends to play into Kant's guilt to see whether that prompts him to redeem himself.

After all, Kant is also a prisoner of his circumstances (though Bison doesn't yet know the full context). "I saw it with my own eyes. Kant was just trying to get away from his bad past." On an unconscious level, he feels a kinship with such a predicament, which is why he's biding his time. He's decided to continue the charade and call Kant's bluff by agreeing to be his boyfriend, to see just how far Kant plans to take this by giving him what he wants. A 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' strategy, mirroring how Kant is equally digging for intel on him by getting up close. Why are you doing this? What's in it for you? What exactly is your motive? Where do the lies start and end? How much of what you feel for me is true, if any of it?

Bison's undecided. He's human after all and not immune to Kant's charms (which funnily enough is the same problem Fadel's currently having with Style). Every time Kant refers to him as his boyfriend, you can see Bison's heart flutter. The attraction between the two is undeniably there and that will still colour his judgement.

In the meantime, Bison appears to be mentally cataloguing every transgression and forming his judgement slowly on whether Kant will deserve punishment or vindication.

You can keep tabs on bird-inacage’s BL meta directory for my other long-form posts around The Heart Killers, which I’ll be updating in real time as the show airs.

[winksasleeplesseye]

SUMMARY: Leon returns from a mission, same as always. But something is different as he closed his eyes to sleep.

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Mostly angst for now. Also no editing we die like men around these parts

[MASTERLIST][NEXT]

It all started with a dream. And no, not in the way you’d think. Leon, having completed his latest mission as the government's best lap dog—asset, had returned home to what he could deem some sense of normalcy. Well, as much as he could have from his days as a cop to now. A monotonous routine he’d settled into that provided some semblance of that…normalcy.

Wake up, eat, shower, go to the office, paperwork for mission reports, go home, sleep, repeat. Of course, the added benefit of missions—despite their punishing nature, helped break it up enough that Leon never could pinpoint the lack of what he was missing. What he’d been missing for a long time. You. When he thought of how his life panned out in the wake of the Raccoon City incident, Spain, and other incidents too many to count on one hand, he drifted back to you. Both of you had met that fateful night, both of you with similar stories to one another. Both of you sharing in a bond that failed to measure up to anything else Leon had ever known in his 21 years of living at that time. He hated to overthink it, it was just one evening after all and he had an awful tendency to fall too hard, too fast but he remembered your shared glances, your easy words, all of it during and after the incident—he couldn’t have imagined that. Was this always how things were meant to be? Leon could say with confidence, he did more existing than living. And most days, he was fine with that. As fine as one could be, given the circumstances. But that evening when he closed his eyes, expecting his usual nightmares that often woke him up in a cold sweat….he found something different. Sunlight streamed through the blinds of his apartment, filtered only the added curtains over them. The warmth of the sun hit right into eyes and for some reason, he couldn’t recall the last time it had ever been so nice outside. At least by DC weather standards lately. He fought to push himself from out of the covers but similar to the warmth of the sun, another warmth was emanating next to him in bed. A person. Shit. Did he bring someone home? Why couldn’t he remember that? He cautiously chanced a look closer to the body, hidden under the covers as they cling to them. Stirring briefly, the person that turned over was…you. Your eyes were closed, chest slowly rising and falling. You. You were asleep in his bed. He couldn’t recollect the last time he’d seen you since…. “If you’re going to stare, a photo would do you wonders, Mr. Kennedy,” you spoke up, voice a tad groggy but your eyes were still closed. Your smile was undeniable though. At first, Leon didn’t know what to say. You spoke as if this were an everyday, normal occurrence. Waking up together. Being together. Something nagged at the back of Leon’s mind. Was he going crazy? Was this even real? Okay, focus. He just needed to do what he usually did to start his day. You weren’t actually there, his brain was just trying to make sense of the chaos of his waking life no matter how much he believed it was normal. Without a word, Leon practically threw the covers off and pressed his feet into the cold, hardwood floor. His feet padded against it, still felt fairly real. Pressure of his feet to the floor didn’t make it seem like he’d float away. Once in the bathroom, he ran his hands under the faucet. Cold water sent the same sensation it always did to his nerves and he ran the water over his face.

Still bitingly cold. Still real. He lifted his eyes to the mirror, seeing himself like he always had. Same tired eyes, same hair, same Leon. But still the constant of you also rising from the bed from his peripheral vision. Leon tries to convince himself that maybe he got something in his eyes as he rubbed them furiously. Then arms wrap around his waist from behind, your cheek glued to his back. Your hands began tracing over his skin, soft but firm. His mind had to be playing a trick on him, he can feel the pressure, the heat of you against him. No one’s mind could conjure up sensations like that. Not even Leon’s. “Hmm, a response would’ve been appreciated, mister,” you said as you cling to Leon. You sound like you’re playfully pouting, he turned his eyes over his shoulder to see you were, in fact. You were there. Holding him like you didn’t want to let go. For a moment, Leon slips into this, plays along. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he turned around, cupped your face, fingers grazing your jaw as he stared into what was assuredly your eyes that he remembered. The same soft, sweet eyes. Underneath the bright, rather harsh bathroom light, he could see their same clarity. Leon’s mind often had a funny way of muddling the details of you but as you stood here in his arms, you became more real. Every single detail he could feel as he ran his hands down your skin, the softness, the heat, the scent as he pressed his lips to your neck briefly. You pulled back, eyes filled with a quiet affection but he didn’t miss the small bit of confusion, “You’re being…strange,” you murmured, but there was no judgment in your voice, only that soft smile of understanding that he loved so much. You ran a hand over his forehead, “You sure that last mission didn’t give a head injury? Or a fever?” He grabbed your hands, placing them around his neck. “No, I promise, everything’s all good.” He smiled faintly, a sense of contentment spreading across his face. “No head injury or fever, feel like a million bucks,” he spoke. He leaned down, pressing his lips gently against yours, tasting the sweetness of your lips had him convinced this had to be real. He wasn’t sure how but he wouldn’t question it. Your laughter against his lips, echoed softly. But your voice was slowly muffling, fading into the haze of his subconscious as if whatever this is was beginning to slip away. He could feel it: the cool edge of awareness, the creeping pull of waking. But he pushed through, kissing you once more, the sensation seemed to fade a little more, like it was slipping through his fingers, like you were.

For a moment, the world stood still. The sound of his heartbeat, the feel of your warmth against him, the light touch of your hand on his cheek—it was all so real. Too real to be anything but true. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, eyes closed, trying to hold on. “I don’t want to wake up,” he muttered, almost in disbelief, like the words themselves could prevent the inevitable. Before you could respond, Leon shot up from his bed. The familiar jolt that startled him into awake as always. Less fear behind it this time. Still, his heart hammered in his chest as he sat up, stiff as a board. All he could see was the dull, gray reality of his apartment, the harsh light of the morning seeping in through the blinds. The bed was empty. The room was silent. His hand shot out instinctively to the side, reaching for something that wasn’t there. His fingers brushed against the cold, empty sheets. No you. No warmth. The air in the room felt almost offensively sharp, pricking at his skin rather than a comforting cool. A stark contrast between his dream and the dullness of the world he inhabited was too much to stand right now. The echoes of the dream clung to him like a shadow. Everything felt so…real. Leon ran a hand over his face, frustration and a longing mixing in his chest, the ache of loss—one for which he had never addressed with you, intensified. The soft weight of you in his arms, the way they had kissed, a promise of a life Leon had never imagined. Until now.

Leon tried. He did. The fleeting glimpse of what his dream offered was nothing more than that, a dream. But still, Leon couldn’t help but to let his mind wander in his waking hours the next day. A new change to his routine. He worked more efficiently, only for the slight hope he could continue his dream. With you by his side. He couldn’t deny that his heart ached. Ached at how life had turned out and what could’ve been and it was as if his mind decided to bring the reminders to the forefront after all this time. The small moment of domesticity, a moment so genuinely normal and ordinary felt so surreal. Leon never actually envisioned it for himself. Not after everything. Just didn’t seem like it could be in the cards for him. He was relegated to one role and one role only and he never had the determination to prove himself wrong. That he could do both. Have a partner and be an agent. Have someone to come home to. He certainly couldn’t and wouldn’t have expected to have that with you either. The government kept you both separated for a reason, one he’d never understand. Again, he tried to reason with himself and chalk it up to just his brain doing what it does. Why did everything feel so real then? Explain that, Kennedy. He could still taste the sweetness of her lips, feel their pressure against his. God, he had to just be going crazy. That had to be it. Why of all times does this happen now? At the end of the work day, he decided to fight sleep. Upon entering his apartment, he instead lounged on the couch and switched on late night television. The television glowed dimly in the apartment, its flickering images casting muted light across the room. The sound of a late-night talk show droned on, the host’s laughter echoing faintly in the background. Leon sat slouched on the couch, his dinner forgotten on the coffee table. There was enough nonsense on the screen that Leon assumed he had given himself enough stimulation to not fall asleep or really even think. The room, the city, the world seemed quiet, but that actually did nothing to quiet his mind. He found himself gazing aimlessly around the room. Not much decor on the walls, the furniture functioned—so, so hollow. His eyes settled on the far wall, the noise of the TV becoming faint to his ears, and that’s when he assumed he was going crazy as images came to his mind. With you. They crept up like a thief in the night, but part of him seemed to subconsciously want them to. In the dim light of his apartment, he could almost see you. You, leaning against that wall, your arms crossed with a teasing smirk on your face. “You think you’re so smooth, Kennedy,” you said, stepping closer. Your voice was playful, but your eyes held a heat that made his breath hitch. He saw himself—dream Leon he assumed—taking a step forward, closing the gap between them. “And you don’t?” he shot back, his voice low, his lips tugging into a half-smile. Before he could say anything else, you grabbed his collar and pushed him against the wall with surprising strength. Their lips met, and the heat between them was instant, overwhelming. Leon blinked, and the vision dissolved. The wall was just a wall again, bare and unremarkable. Leon’s eyes drifted to the cushion next to him, an almost transparent version of you manifesting sitting next to him, fingers lightly brushing his. He could feel it—the warmth of your touch, the way your thumb idly stroked his knuckles as they sat side by side. Another scene played in his mind. You had turned toward him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know what I love about you?” You had asked, tilting your head. “What’s that?” Another Leon had replied, his voice soft, but his heart thundered all the same in his chest. You had smiled, leaning in close. “That you’re still so easy to fluster.” You kissed him then, slow and deliberate, your lips brushing his as if savoring the moment.

The talk show host’s voice pulled him back to reality, and Leon rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh. The television’s glow felt oppressive now, highlighting the emptiness of the room. He stared at the blank wall across from him, his heart aching with every memory that wasn’t real but felt like it should have been. The visions were so vivid, so vibrant, as though his mind had painted a life he could never truly have. The silence in the apartment grew deafening, and for a moment, Leon almost reached out—toward a version of you, the dream of you. But his hand fell back to his lap, and he closed his eyes, leaning his head against the couch. “Damn it,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw. “I’m losing it.”

And yet, despite his assessment, he began to welcome it. If he was able to have momentary reprieve, happiness in his dreams? He’d take it. Over the next few days, his mind would again drift. The more dreams, the more they bled into reality and sometimes he couldn’t tell what came from his memories or what came from the dreams. He’d sit in his office, the faint scent of ink and coffee heavy in the air, hearing things he’d think you’d say in the moments that the monotony dragged. Which only made him realize just how mind-numbing it all was. Tedious, this kind of work dulled the edges of his mind. But today, it felt sharper—every word, every line of text seemed to echo with something missing. He signed his name at the bottom of a form and paused, his pen hovering over the paper. Your voice drifted through his thoughts, clear as if you were sitting across from him. “You’ve got the worst handwriting I’ve ever seen. Are you sure you’re not a doctor?” A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, unbidden and fleeting. His eyes flicked to the empty chair on the other side of the desk, and for a moment, he could almost see you there. Your hair pulled back, a teasing smile on your lips as you slid a takeout box across the desk. “Thought you could use something that wasn’t brewed in the office swamp,” you’d say, pulling chopsticks from your bag and settling in like you belonged there. Leon blinked, and the vision dissolved, leaving only the empty chair and the stack of paperwork. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself back to the task at hand.

At the end of the day, he held a flickering sense of hope that he’d be able to see you again in his dream tonight. It was where you were as real as the air he breathed. Your head laid against his chest, soft steady breaths coming from you. A quiet comfort that anchored him in the hazy realm between sleep and awake. Your scent—familiar and impossibly soothing—permeated the air, wrapping around him like a memory made flesh. He’d continue to convince himself that his mind could never replicate something like that. The sensation as your fingers brushed over his, squeezing his hand in yours, made his chest ache as he looked at you. All of this felt so right. The scene shifted before his eyes and he now watched you move around their shared kitchen, wearing one of his shirts as the fabric brushed your thighs as you flipped pancakes with ease. Your hair was slightly mussed from sleep, humming a tune under your breath that seemed vaguely familiar. The heat from kitchen coupled with the faint clicking of the spatula and your humming—it was so real. “Breakfast will be done soon,” you said without looking up, your voice light and teasing. “Unless you want to keep staring at me like a lovesick puppy. In that case, I can take my time.” Leon smiled, his heart swelling at the ease in your tone. He stepped closer, his socked feet soundless on the floor. “Maybe I like staring.” “You’re very smooth in the morning, aren’t you?” You smirked in his direction. “I am. Hard not to be when you look like this,” He grinned, leaning against the counter, closer to you. You chuckled. “You are trouble, Agent Kennedy.” How could he convince himself this wasn’t real? The scent of the sweet batter of pancakes. The ticking clock all gave credence to this not being a dream. It was all clearer and sharper than any dream he’d had before. Leon stared, his gaze intense. He wanted to stay in this moment, his heart swelling with a fullness he hadn’t experienced in a while. In this dream, this moment, everything was perfect. He didn’t want to wake up.

[hainuwelle]

The third man theory

Note: This theory takes as starting point Aurora's Fun theory. It states that the invention in which Gaster fell was a new version of a warp door that would have allowed the monsters of the underground to escape to a timeline in which the war against the humans never happened. If this experiment were to work, it would have allowed for a happier ending than the True Pacifist one, because more accidents and deaths would have been prevented.

Sadly, Gaster's experiments went wrong and he was scattered "across time and space". The only other time in Undertale this expression is used is when we call Papyrus in Sans's room, the one that gets us lost in a seemingly endless darkness when we enter it, with a door that suspiciously looks like Mystery Man's grey door and Deltarune's warp doors. This key expression used by Papyrus tells us Gaster's creation and untimely demise should have something to do with these doors.

If this theory is correct, the invention in which Gaster fell would have been under our nose the whole time.

With the FUN theory video in mind, something about Mr. Elegance's dialogues caught my eye.

Evidence 1 - Mr. Elegance, if we didn't previously talk to Jigsaw Joe:

Evidence 2 - Mr. Elegance if we previously talked to Jigsaw Joe:

For a flaming teleportation door one would assume to be magical, the vocabulary used to talk about it sure sounds mechanical and mundanely machine-like : « Fix up », « working on it », « got this door workin’ », « it might break », « fixed that door », « it should work without any issues ». Intriguingly, it looks old, and yet, it is new to the Darkners, who have never seen it before. Is it really Darkner technology?

Of course, to an experienced Undertale player, it looks familiar, similar to the one to Sans's room.

This brings us to my question: Why did Toby Fox add these two different Mr. Elegance dialogues about this door? What purpose do they serve?

It can't be to alert the player that they could malfunction if we haven’t previously talked to Jigsaw Joe, since they always work properly regardless. It’s not like this triggers a side quest asking you to talk to the puzzle man if you don't want a 1/6 chance of the door teleporting you into the void. And they don't serve a comedic purpose either. There is no joke, no punchline. So why warn us about the breaking hazard, if the warp doors never break in the first place ? Why specify that 3 people are needed to get them to work smoothly?

Because this isn’t really about the Scarlet Forest shortcut. The door might not break in the game, but it might have broken somewhere else. This is really about what went wrong with Gaster's experiments.

Time to bring in evidence 3:

First, let's note that this tweet isn't exactly talking about the same situation as in evidence 1 : Mr. Elegance talks about a door that two people got to work and that might break, while Toby Fox talks about a machine that's already broken and that two people could never repair.

However, evidence 2 tells us that when three of them worked on it, the machine should work without a problem. So if we assume that these dialogues are really about the creation that led to Gaster’s demise, this means that the reason things went wrong is because one person was missing.

Two people worked on the machine instead of three, which led to Gaster's disappearance. Yet, we know that two people were trying to repair the machine once it was broken. This means that after Gaster's disappearance, the missing person came back.

Now let's imagine that Gaster formed a trio with two other colleagues that we'll name X and Y. The Royal Scientist is working on a door-shaped machine that would free the monsters from their imprisonment. As the fate of the Underground lies in his hands, a lot of pressure is resting upon his shoulders. The role that X and Y had in this creation is unknown. Gaster could have even built it on his own. But thanks to Entry n°17, we know that shared his experiments with two other people. And thanks to the Japanese translation, we know he was rather close to them.

After the construction of the machine, Gaster and X try to get it to work, but without Y. Maybe they walked away from the experiment, maybe the other two didn't trust them enough, we don't know.

Despite this, they manage to make it work with just the two of them. However, what Mr. Elegance predicts happens, and something goes wrong. Two people just wasn't enough to assure that the machine would work properly. It's too unstable. It malfunctions. Gaster falls inside, is shattered across time and space, and the machine breaks.

Now let's come back to the end of Toby Fox's tweet. ”Neither of them could fix the machine, no matter how hard they tried. No one can." Notice that "neither of them" means precisely two people.

After the incident, Y comes back, but Gaster disappeared. The trio is now a duo. Y and X do everything they can to repair the machine, but can't. No one can. Because Gaster, the person necessary to its reparation, is no more.

If this theory is right, what are X and Y’s identities? And why was Y absent during the creation of the shortcut door machine? A lot of questions have yet to be answered...

[midnight-mourning]

💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's💘

The people wanted it, I'm here to provide it, it's Valentine's request time! See below for more details :D

Requests

I will have 14 slots available for requests. Which, is much less than last time, but I don't have time to do a month full of requests, and Valetine's day is the 14th sooo, yeah. BUT, length will be the same as December, 1000-2000 words.

Requests can be anything (again)! Just ask that they relate to Valentine's in some way, be that directly or indirectly and of course DCA-related.

As most know I am an X reader writer, but as long as my general request rules are followed, I don't mind writing for ocs, canon, etc. 

fair warning though for the above, I am not familar at all with TSAMS and if you DO have a specific au, I will do my BEST to be accurate but cannot guarentee beyond that

For those who don't know my rules, no nsfw (suggestive is fine!), and if you want something specific, be specific. Besides that, it's fair game, request what you want!

Potential Issues & Schedule

If there is overlap between request ideas, they will be combined in some manner of speaking (if possible). If needed, I will reach out to you about adjusting ideas or the likes, though I don't forsee this happening. This would occur if for example, someone wants gift shopping with Sun with their oc, and someone else wants the same thing with a reader-insert. Whoever requested second would be who I reach out to. 

Requests will be posted starting on February 1st & ending on the 14th!

I will be starting writing as soon as I get the first request, and since I'm in classes again now, I need to prepare as much as I can ahead of time so to not worry about getting behind. SO, requests will be open from today (January 18th) until next week January 25th. I know it's a short timeslot, but I need time haha 😅

To keep things organized, please request in the comments of this post. This also helps to potentially keep from overlap in requests, as you'll be able to see what else has already been requested. If you request in my ask box or such it'll make things a bit more difficult, so please avoid that.

HOWEVER, there is one exception to the above, which is if you wish to request anonymously, which is completely fine to do! But please only request in my ask box if you want to be anonymous. If overlap happens in that case, then y'all may just get two responses with similar vibes on the same day (essentially a bonus lol)

Sharing & More

Please feel free to share this post around, and request if you want to! Once I hit 14 unique ones I'll reblog this post with the announcement that requests are closed, so make sure to double check they aren't closed already prior to requesting!

I'll also post updates every couple of days regarding the status of total requests as well ^_^

Everything related to this will be under the tag #MM dca Valentine's, just in case there's another similar tag out there and I'm not just taking it for myself

I'm going to try and upload these in real time to ao3 so if you prefer to read there that will now also be an option! As opposed to having to wait for edits and such

Bonus little thing, if there's any artists out there that would maybe like to make some doodles to go along with these... let me know 👀👀 I would love to do it myself (same for the december requests) but I am unfortunately too slow a cooker to manage it 😔 would just be for funsies (i do not have the money for commissions so this would be volunteer-based) and no pressure to make something overtly intensive or the likes! I've never done this kind of thing before but I would probably send you the finished request/prompt ahead of time and you would (ideally) have a week or so to make something. Again, very small simple little doodle and if something comes up there would be no pressure to finish or such ^^

General update things from me

Hoping to finish up Holiday Spirit in the next week or so! shooting for ch. 3 to post today or tomorrow ^^

DCA December is now completely edited/posted to ao3 (will be posting the last couple chapters over the next few days)

Have decided that i WILL be holding off on posting Confused Spirit chapters 36, 37, 38 and will be writing them all together to make sure the plot points go correctly/how i envisioned

Cooking up some fun things for @/divinit3a's Cafe prompts, so expect to see those throughout the rest of the month :)

Okay that's all for now, goodbye!

Tag list for the usuals :D

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 4)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Smut in later parts, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 2,567

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3

Two weeks later…

Just over two weeks had passed since you took up your scholarship at Berkley and it has been seven days since you began researching for your thesis about dark matter under the supervision of J Robert Oppenheimer who, unfortunately for you, appeared to be somewhat preoccupied with more important matters these days.

For the weeks and days, he had been visited by a man of statue who appeared to be a general of some sort and, whilst you were curious about this man’s visits to Berkley, you already some idea about what this may be about.

For months there had been some talks in the scientific community about the fission reaction of atoms which ultimately gave rise to the possible creation of a new innovative bomb. It was only a matter of time until the army caught on to this idea and you knew from your time at Harvard that several professors had already been lobbying for an atomic bomb project in this regard.

You thus assumed that, finally, the program was going to implemented, especially since now Germany had just invaded Poland. You knew that, an atomic bomb like this could end the war and your presumption was that the army was recruiting scientists, including J Robert Oppenheimer, to build this powerful nuclear weapon before the Germans did.

As such, you did not bother him much these days with minuscule issues about dark matter and Dr Oppenheimer certainly kept to himself whenever he could until Tuesday evening came around and he finally decided to check on you in the lab.

Your POV

Unlike your very own professor, in the lab, you were an ace and experimenting to prove a theory someone else or yourself has come up with excited you a lot even though the theoretical part of physics was what you desired to be involved in the most.

Unlike many other students in your department at Berkley, you had a high attention to detail when it came to experimental physics and since working with hazardous chemicals at high or low pressures required some planning and special precautions, you enjoyed to use the laboratory after everyone had left.

You often spent hours in the lab following your lectures for the day and today was not any different when, at 7 o’clock at night, you were still occupied by your attempts to create a chemical reaction similar to that of a star exploding.

Thus, when Dr Oppenheimer approached you from behind, just as you put the centrifuge you were using under negative pressure and connected it the exhaust system, you startled.

You were concentrating too hard and did not expect to see anyone at this hour in the laboratory, especially not him, your very own supervisor who had been too busy for your research in the past two weeks.

“Holy shit, you startled me” you thus spat as you dropped one of the glass vials on to the concrete floor which, luckily for you, did not contain anything but some pH solution.

“I don’t believe that I ever heard you swear like this, Miss Y/LN” Dr Oppenheimer said with some amusement in his voice before gathering a small broom and helping you to clean up the mess you made because of him, which was a gesture you appreciated.

“My apologies Dr Oppenheimer. It’s just, you don’t seem to be here often these days and I am behind with my research already, so…” you stammered as, together, you cleaned up the broken glass and, before you realised it, his hand was on top of yours, caressing it gently.

Immediately, you felt that same tingling again on your skin which, just a few weeks ago, you felt on your neck when Dr Oppenheimer adjusted the clip on the back of your necklace. It was an intense and rather pleasurable sensation which, ultimately, made you blush.

“There is no need to apologise. If anyone had to apologise, it should be me, for neglecting my engagement as your thesis supervisor. Unfortunatly, there have been some more pressing matters that required my attention” Dr Oppenheimer then said as he was letting go of your hand and raising back to his feet before helping you up as well by using his right hand.

“I figured” you barely stammered while allowing Dr Oppenheimer to pull you to your feet before, with a slight blush, walking towards the utilities room to dispose of the broken glass vail and to obtain a new one.

“You figured?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked somewhat confused by your statement as he followed you into the utilities room.

“I have seen an army general visiting your office twice last week and my presumption is that you have been recruited to build this goddamn bomb, which every physicist in this country has been talking about for months” you asserted with little to no reluctance before also voicing your concerns about it. “Do you really think that this is a good idea?” you wanted to know, seeing that such bomb could easily be a device of mass destruction and, just as you spoke the words, Robert pushed you further into the corner of the utilities room while closing the door shut behind you.

You then suddenly felt his warm but strong arm pull you against him before covering your mouth with the palm of his other hand.

“Shh” he whispered before shaking his head, indicating for you to stop talking and, by that point, your heart was pounding hard with adrenaline.

He must have thought that someone was listening in on you and presumed that the laboratory was bugged by government officials, but none of this mattered to you now as you felt heat everywhere now while his body was touching yours.

The feeling of his body against yours was so intense that you couldn’t even murmur a response into his palm and thus you simply nodded, which is when he spoke again.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, but you sure have a creative imagination” Dr Oppenheimer said, brushing off what you had alleged while still holding his arms around you and embracing the sparks of electricity emanating from each other's bodies.

“Now, about your research on dark matter, how does Sunday sound for a catch up?” he then asked as you looked up into his bright blue eyes while he looked down at you with a look of concern and a hint of desire.

“Sunday?” you murmured in response as you could not even manage to speak proper words just yet as you stood there like this for what felt like hours, but it could not even have been more than a minute or two.

“Yes. Sunday. I am away until then” Dr Oppenheimer then said as his arms finally fell from around you and he cleared his throat.

“And, I am leaving for a period of two weeks after that for which Dr O’Connell will be taking over as your supervisor. He will be a good mentor for you but I want to see where you are at with your research before he gets involved” Dr Oppenheimer then announced which broke your trance and you quickly stepped back, almost tripping over your own feet.

“Dr O’Connell?” you asked with surprise while you looked down at your feet, trying to avoid those magnetic eyes of J Robert Oppenheimer.

“Yes. I am afraid so” he confirmed, which is when you finally managed to look at his face again. His eyes were clouded with indescribable emotions and, clearly, so were yours.

“I understand” you eventually confirmed nervously. “Sunday it is but, since the university facilities will be closed, we will need to meet somewhere else” you managed to point out while your eyes began to water slightly from the overwhelmingness of everything that just happened, making you look like a fool.

Dr Oppenheimer, of course, noticed and his face changed from indiscernible to concern once more.

“You will do just fine Miss Y/LN. I have no doubt about it” he reassured you before suggesting the library as a meeting place which meant that, unbeknownst to him, you would have had to copy your calculations from your big chalkboard in your room to several pieces of paper.

“How about the Chevalier residence instead?” you thus suggested, causing Robert to furrow his eyebrows.

“I do not consider this to be a good idea Miss Y/LN. It would be highly inappropriate” Dr Oppenheimer pointed out, but you interrupted him.

“Haakon and Barbara are in San Jose for the weekend. You are friend of them both, so I have no doubt that they wouldn’t mind you visiting me in their absence. That is, of course, if your wife allows it” you explained with a little smirk on your face and your sudden sense of confidence surprised Dr Oppenheimer.

“My wife too, is away, staying with her mother for the time being” he explained before agreeing to your suggestion, but you would not just leave it that.

“Did you and your wife have a fight?” you asked out of curiosity, which is when Dr Oppenheimer shook his head and chuckled.

“We always fight, but that is not the reason. She is staying with her mother because I am busy and am travelling a lot these days and she needs help with our son, Peter” he then explained before stepping away from you again, increasing the gap between you.

“Now, I am afraid, I must go. I have another pressing engagement this evening” he told you and you had a sneaky suspicion that your professor was making the most of the time his wife was away.

“No doubt you do, professor. I shall see you on Sunday” you said with a slight chuckle, seeing that you already knew about his numerous affairs, including his on and off relations with Jean Tatlock.

Robert’s POV

It was later that same day, at around 8 o’clock that Robert went to a place that he had not visited in about three weeks, namely the apartment of Jean Tatlock’s in downtown San Francisco.

Ever since meeting you, he avoided her and whilst he did so subconsciously, he gave it some thought after Jean had addressed the fact that he had been ignoring her calls.

After almost three weeks, she now expressed a great desire to see him again and, considering her poor mental state, Robert reluctantly agreed.

As always, Robert brought her flowers which she disposed of rather quickly and just as she asked him inside, Robert began to explain to her that he was not there to see her for the usual reasons.

This was meant to be his final visit and he knew that, by ending their affair, he would likely break her heart. She would be devastated and that was something that concerned him a lot.

“I am not here for that Jean” Robert thus said just as Jean attempted to kiss him in a haste while pulling against his tie and suit jacket.

“And yet, you finally answered my call. Why?” she asked almost angrily, rolling her eyes before pushing Robert aside and pouring herself a drink. Clearly, she was confused and Robert had to provide an explanation to her.

“Because we need to talk Jean. This has been going on for far too long” he told her while adjusting his tie and jacket again. His facial expression was more serious than usual and that, in itself, concerned Jean.

“Oh my god Robert, after all those years you want to end it?” she asked as tears shot into the corners of her eyes. She shook her head in disbelieve and then smashed the glass she was holding onto the hard wooden floor, spilling her drink along with it.

“Jean, please…” Robert said calmly, trying to console her by reaching for her hands, but Jean pulled away.

“There is someone else, isn’t there?” she asked angrily, causing Robert to sigh deeply.

“I am a married man Jean, so yes, there is someone else, my wife” Robert tried to explain but Jean shook her head angrily and pointed her finger at him.

“No Robert! I am not talking about your wife and neither are you” she said sternly as slowly, but surely, her emotions got the better of her. She began to yell at Robert and, seeing that Jean was so upset, he did not know what else to say to her. He was lost for words.

“Who is she?” she then wanted to know and this is when she received yet another response from her lover that both, confused her and made her fume with rage.

“She is a woman who will help me change the world” Robert acknowledged somewhat reluctantly, causing the tears in her eyes to increase rapidly.

“You know that I love you, Robert. In fact, I never stopped loving you even after you married Katherine" she pleaded while trying to comprehend the situation. For years, Robert had maintained his affair to Jean even after he married Kitty and now this was going to be over because of someone else?

"And I have loved you too, but you have destroyed that love for me Jean. You pushed me away repeatedly and now I am finally it. I moved on” Robert said a little too honestly and with a lack of emotion in his voice, causing Jean’s reaction to worsen.

"I have said I was sorry, Robert!” Jean screamed almost hysterically while stepping one step towards Robert and pushing her hands against his chest, forcing him against the wall.

“So am I Jean. I truly am” he told her while cupping her face. Her tears were clouding her eyes and he sealed her faith with one final kiss before leaving her apartment for the last time, until she would call him again several months later.

Note: Unlike in real life, Jean will not kill herself in this fic. In fact, she will reappear in a few later parts, causing some havoc for the reader.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[rea-grimm]

Sleep protector Luffy

"You look awful, what happened to you?" a friend asked you when you met at a coffee shop. It's been almost a year since you last saw each other. She hadn't changed at all, while you were almost unrecognizable.

You had giant circles under your eyes and your whole body looked like a giant painting that someone had painted using red, blue, yellow and purple. You wore so many bruises that you lost count.

You had the impression that you were cursed. Bad luck was sticking to your heels, and you also suffered from nightmares that kept you awake.

You thought slipping on a banana peel was just a TV joke. That is until you did it yourself. You had no idea how many times you tripped or were almost struck by lightning, or forgot your umbrella in the biggest downpour.

It was the little things that you wouldn't mind if they weren't happening to you 24/7. What irritated you the most was when people told you not to worry about it, that it would get better if you slept. As if it were possible. Every time you fell asleep, you found yourself in an even worse nightmare than before.

Initially, you didn't want to discuss this with your friend, because it was quite possible that you wouldn't see her again for a year or so. You wanted to enjoy this day with her. 

But you couldn't hide anything from her either, and you confided everything to her under her pressure. Also about the fact that you slowly began to fall into depression.

After this, your friend gave you a small gift bag. She wanted to give it to you anyway. She also had a similar one at home, and as soon as she bought it, all the bad dreams disappeared. Plus, when she saw this one, she remembered you and just had to get it for you.

After coffee, you spent almost the rest of the day together. When you said goodbye, you returned home, where you could finally calmly look at the bag you had received.

You opened it and inside was a teddy bear. He had black fur, a red vest, blue shorts and a straw hat on his head. He was cute and soft to the touch.

You didn't believe much in talismans and charms, but you took a stuffed animal to bed with you. After a long time, you fell asleep without any problems almost immediately.

It was an even bigger but pleasant shock in the morning when you woke up full of energy and without any nightmares. You couldn't even remember the last time you slept this well.

You didn't believe it, but it had to be true. Ever since you got the teddy bear, the nightmares have slowly faded away. You were always saved from them by a young man wearing the same outfit as the teddy bear.

He easily defeated all your nightmares and with a carefree smile, he then took your hand and led you into the unknown for an adventure. Be it sea battles, an island of giants or an island full of meat. He always managed to come up with some stupid thing by pure chance that ended up being good and you still laughed.

Thanks to that, you looked forward more and more to sleep and what new things you will do. You were especially looking forward to seeing him because he exuded a cheerful energy that was very contagious. You had the impression that even if he was only in a dream, he could recharge your batteries like no one else.

Since then, your mood has improved and your bad luck has disappeared. You would never believe that a good night's sleep could solve all your problems.

Even your bad luck suddenly disappeared. Instead, you found money here and there, you won, for example, some little thing for free, people were nicer to you, everything started to go well for you, and things turned out better than you expected. You never expected to experience such a turn for the better.

You were in the mood for some quick food, maybe a burger or something, and you headed into town. You went to the chosen establishment and ordered food. While you were waiting, you noticed a young man at the counter who reminded you of a teddy bear.

The young man was getting upset because he wanted to order a lot of food, but apparently, he didn't have enough money to pay. Despite all this, he did not give up.

You felt quite sorry for him, so you decided to buy him food. You went over to him and paid for him. It's already happened to you several times that they blocked your card out of nowhere, so you couldn't pay, so you wanted to make him happy.

"You're the best! Thank you very much!" the young man in the straw hat was beaming with enthusiasm and before you knew it, he was hugging you. This moment felt very familiar to you, but you couldn't remember from where. You just smiled and waved it off that it was a small thing.

You originally thought you'd grab your food and head home, but you were so captivated by his cheerfulness that you decided to stay. You ate your meal together. You had already eaten your portion while he was still stuffing himself.

After the meal, he took you to see his friends. You were glad about that because you didn't have many friends or they lived far away. That's why you sometimes felt alone. He saved you from that loneliness and after eating, you went to his group.

You originally wanted to go home after eating, but something just pulled you towards him. All his friends accepted you and you were with them until the evening. You probably never laughed so well and you even felt a little sorry when you said goodbye to them.

When you finally got home, you were tired, but at the same time filled with positive energy that you didn't want to go to bed yet. You made yourself a warm drink and sat down on the couch with plans to watch a nice movie.

You prepared everything when you had the impression that something was missing. You got up and went to the bedroom where you wanted to take the teddy bear with you. Maybe it was childish, but you wanted him with you.

You went into the bedroom but you didn't see him anywhere. You looked under the duvet, the pillow and even under the bed, but he was nowhere to be found. You searched the rest of the bedroom as well, wondering where you could leave him. Instead of a movie, you ended up spending the evening looking for a teddy bear.

You were slowly starting to panic. If you couldn't find him, did that mean bad luck and nightmares would return? Will you go back to the bottom again? Will you be afraid to get out of bed in the morning again? You fell to your knees in a panic and held your head.

How could something like this even happen to you? Was it just a dream and you will wake up in the morning to a harsh reality? Was this just another nightmare? Just a figment of your troubled mind?

Strange footsteps interrupted you from your train of thought. It couldn't be your friend, she was long gone. Would they be thieves? You really couldn't care less. It would just suit your miserable situation.

"Why are you on the floor?" a familiar voice asked you, but it lacked the classic cheerfulness. Instead of it, he was full of worries. You looked at him with tear-filled eyes. You didn't even know you started crying.

“Whoa, why are you crying? Did someone hurt you?” he asked in surprise, looking like he was ready to beat up anyone who tried to harm you in any way.

“No,” you replied in a husky voice as you wiped away your tears and shook your head. At first, you were hesitant to confide in him, but it was your dream after all. That's why you told him about the teddy bear and your fears.

"I was already afraid that someone hurt you," he breathed and smiled. "You don't have to be afraid of anything. I'm Luffy, your sleep protector,” he replied as if it was obvious.

“Huh?” You didn't understand what he meant. “But that teddy bear…” you trailed off.

"That was me," he jumped into your speech proudly. "So I protected you in your dreams, but I wanted to protect you here too," he replied with satisfaction.

You watched him and tried to make sense of it when his hands stretched out and he pulled you to him like nothing. He hugged you and rubbed his cheek on your head.

"I like you a lot more when you're happy. Tears don't suit you,” he said while cuddling you.

Everything was so real and pleasant that you believed it. And if this was a dream, you never wanted to wake up. You looked at him and kissed him. You haven't felt this safe and loved in a long time.

Luffy Masterlist

Sleep Protector Masterlist

[shockinglyangel]

THE BEGINNING OF THE IRRESISTIBLE - TOM RIDDLE x reader

MATURE, Warnings, Virgin!Tom, Virgin!Reader, Unprotected sex, Shit ton of narration.

SUMMERY: You’re doing your DADA homework with Tom when all the sudden he becomes a little less interested in hexes, and a lot more interested in you.

NOT PROOFREAD

You were sat at the desk in Tom's dorm, an organised chaos painting the delicate wood, parchment splayed out, some ink dribbles showing the intension and concentration of what you were doing. You scribbled down another few things, dusting off the side of your hand with your other hand's fingers, not wanting to further smudge the words on the paper.

It wasn't necessarily uncommon for you to be in Tom's dorm, you two were put together in a Defence Against The Dark Arts project, so you'd been spending a fair amount of time by his side throughout the past few weeks. Tom's dorm was always very well put together, he had a lot of space since he had no one to share it with, the walls decorated in a dark shade of green to show the commitment to his house — although Tom rather disliked the scheme. His bed sheets were dark, black to be exact. He'd come into a large sum of money unexpectedly during the summer, when asked about it he told people that it was an inheritance from his late grandparents. With this money he had been able to cover the expensive of some nice silk sheets for his bed, along with some pillows to accompany it.

You turned to look at him, your eyes traveling over his face as he stares at your handwriting on the paper, something he was trying to learn was what someone's writing style could mean — he was critical and observational like that. "Well I think that shall do it for our hexes section, is there a spell you would prefer to focus on for the jinxes?"

Tom lifted his eyes from the paper, moving his head to face yours. His eyes never quite gave away what his emotions were hiding under the mask of his face, but they were a rather nice sight to see. "Impedimenta could be of our interest."

"A spell to slow someone down to prepare an attack?" You paused, bringing the feather of the quill to your lips, brushing it over the pigmented hue in contemplation. "I am not against the suggestion."

The Riddle boy — or more alike to a man, nods his head with one simple movement, not wishing to overdo it and show too much involvement in the work you two are doing together. "Then that shall do it."

"Although," you begin, turning your body on his chair to face him better, wanting to have him a more invested part of the conversation, and figuring your attention was the only way to get him to be so. "I rather enjoy Levicorpus, it may be overused, but it is such a classic."

Tom failed to see such an argument against his option, but he brushed it aside, if you wanted to work on the Levicorpus, then he supposed you would. He didn't want to say anything, he was too busy trying to understand the feelings in his body, the rushing through his veins, and maybe other areas of his body.

His flesh was burning, and he truly wasn't quite sure as to why. Riddle is not incompetent, nor oblivious to those bodily functions, but one so overwhelming, one that he cannot push down or dismiss with a simple thought of something else? Now that was confusing. He felt his breath get tighter in his throat, like it had morphed into a piece of glass and had began to scrape the inside of his oesophagus, such a similar, yet unfamiliar sensation. Too much for someone with little experience.

He thought about it for a moment as you looked away to get back to your work, your hand so delicately holding the quill, the way the feather dances along with your movements; so precious, so graceful. So you. Tom brought his hand up, allowing his heart to take control of his body. He reached out for your face, placing but only a finger to your chin and using the pressure to bring your face back to his.

The act of his finger, even if only one, was so intimate, and intimidating all in one. If the touch made up of only one bone could have your heart shoot up into your mouth, what could two or possibly three do? You dropped the quill, placing it down on the parchment as your head was moved to face him.

Both of your chests had somehow managed to move in unison, like your hearts were beating in a similar rhythm, like everything up to this moment had you so disconnected, but now you are one. Keeping your eyes on him, you watched his move down to his finger which then became two, traveling the intensive digits down your neck and to your tie. He added his thumb, messaging it down the fabric of the green, striped elongated triangular shape.

At this point you couldn't help but look down, his hand making it's journey to the slip of your tie, holding it between his thumb and middle finger, loosening it from around your neck before giving it a pull. You looked closely as the tie was removed from around your colar, watching as he places it on the floor.

It was as if all of your formality had gone from your figure as the piece of fabric was taken from you, something so exciting yet confusing, your body begging for more answers.

Tom's fingers didn't stop, moving back to your shirt and undoing the top button, causing you to lift your head up for better access. He blinked for a moment as the dip of your neck was revealed to him, his newfound mass of blinking making it seem as if he was a victorian man seeing a pair of ankles for the first time. A piece of your skin; so unimportant and small, yet such the thing to affect his put together demeanour.

His eyes shot between yours and the shirt, his fingers not faltering as they continued to undo your buttons, his gaze becoming more fixed on your skin as it was revealed. Tom was a starving man, someone with little to no intimacy, never to know the feeling of a warm body under or beside his, but God, did he crave it.

Riddle swallowed as he undid the final button, unsure of what to say. There were no words he could think of, his brain to scattered and disorganised to find the sentence he should be speaking. You were the same, your chest moving with rasher movements, deeper breaths digging the oxygen into your lungs as if you could consume the scent of him there and then.

You could see in his eyes that there was more than a desire of the simplicity of removing your tie, or the drive for his fingers to unbutton each and every button of your shirt. There was more, always more. You both knew it, and you weren't to be the one to stop it.

You were quick to take the initiative, looking down at his lips before back to his eyes and finally, finally leaning in, the plushness of your mouths crashing together in a feverish dance, a destiny untold in the stars, known to everyone around you, and yet hidden from your eyes.

He breathed desperately against your lips, his hands moving to connect with your cheeks, cupping you in his grasp as if he would lose you if you were to slip out of his touch. His hands were rougher, colder against your skin, the temperature a stark contrast to your own.

Tom's tongue grazed your bottom lip, as if silently asking for the approval of taking things further. You accepted almost immediately, allowing his tongue to enter past your lips and into your mouth, finding yours and fighting with it as if he had something to conquer. You to conquer. He slowly but surely allowed his hands, which were almost trembling from uncertainty to move to your shoulders, pushing your already opened shirt down your arms, his palms taking in the newer feel of your arms and the prominent shoulder blades as he pulls your shirt down, tossing it to the side and leaving your torso in only your bra.

You took his initiative of a sign for you to take action as well, your hands leaving your side of the desk and wandering over to him, to his tie. Your hands fumbled for a moment, struggling to remove his tie before triumphantly pulling it off and letting it fall from your grip to the dorm floor beneath the two of you. Next was his white button up, but you wasted no time to undo it, Tom not allowing you as he pulled away from the kiss after you successfully undid the top four buttons, his impatience getting the better of him as he reached down to pull it up over his head before reconnecting his lips with yours.

It was like he was hungry for you, as if he could not survive without a taste. He allowed not one of you to catch your breath during the kiss, or even in the moments between kisses. Perhaps he thought the added oxygen would make your heads clearer and cause more logic to your actions. He did not want to think logically, he did not want to think at all.

"Get on the bed." His voice was slightly quieter from his usual tone, his lungs reeling in the need of air, but all he needed was you.

You nodded quickly, moving to sit on the bed, him not wasting even a second before following after you, his hand coming down onto your thigh, pushing up underneath your skirt, causing shivers to arise on both of your skins. You both knew where this was going, although neither of you were strong enough to, nor wanted to stop it.

He grabbed you by your hips, his hands sliding up to your waist as he lifted you up, placing you further back on the bed. His mind was filled with the desire of the evening, all the ideas in his mind spinning like an unstoppable wheel of destiny, and it would not stop until he had you, he could not force it to halt until the two of you were corrupted by dark desires and the feel of one another's body.

It had to be you.

He had grown needy in your absence, those nights alone when the only thing that was left to do was to lay in bed with only the memory of you, his hand doing the work that he had so desperately wanted you to do, his mind imagining it was you, it could only be you.

He crawled over you, placing his knee in between your legs to part them, his lips finding yours another time as his hand went back to your thigh, running over the burning flesh of your leg, and oh so desperately wanting to go further. His free hand dipped under your back, causing you to arch it for him, allowing just enough space for his touch to travel down the skin of your back, truly not wanting a single piece of you to miss out from the feel of him.

He found the attachment of your bra, unclasping the material with a slight pop, his lips pulling away from yours to look at you, so open and vulnerable for him, and only him. It was no mystery to Tom that you hadn't done anything like this before, the way you allowed him to guide you, to instruct you and tell you what to do. He knew you were a stranger to the touch of a man, especially a man that wanted you as bad as Riddle did.

His hand made its way back to your front, his large palm placed flag against your upper abdomen before turning around to allow his two middle fingers to hook under the middle part of your bra, pulling it ip in anticipation. You helped him, your own hands going to your shoulders to remove the straps, pulling them down and allowing him to do the rest.

Tom's brain could've short circuited the moment he saw your bare chest, your eyes displaying a look of vulnerability and nerves in them as his eyes revelled in the exposure of your body to him. He traced a hand over one of your breasts, his palm riding over the hardened nipple, his body reacting to the arousal of your own.

The tent in his trousers was all but noticeable, it blended in too well with the black colour, however it was uncommon to see him wear any other colour, he was quite picky like that. Regardless of how visible it was to the untrained eye, he wanted you to know the impact you and your body had on him and his. He reached down for your hand, taking it from your stomach where it rested. He swiped it over his bare chest, trying desperately not to give away how needy he is for you, and how much he desires your touch. Then finally, he ran your hand down to his bulge, his fingers wrapped around your wrist in a commanding way as he allowed you to touch his most intimate area.

Your breath was quick to get caught in your throat another time, even inside the casing of his trousers, behind a whole fabric prison, you could tell how large he was; and how hard you were going to struggle with this — but you were both learning, neither of you had done this before.

Riddle grabbed your skirt, slipping his fingers under the sides of your waistband and pulling in hopes to remove it from your body. You let out a small laugh at his anticipation, the look on his face as he realised he couldn’t pull it from you. “It’s a button up.” You spoke up, breaking the silence that he had created, or perhaps that was a joint task.

He looked at your slightly frustrated before searching around for the buttons, using his fingers as an anchor, waiting for them to hook onto something he could unfasten. “Where the bloody hell is it?” Tom was at his wits end now, he had you so close, yet so far due to these darn buttons. The desire in his body was brewing over, his veins more prominent on his arms.

You moved your hand down to your side, showing him the buttons before undoing them with your fingers, it was only two buttons, but Tom’s feelings were too overwhelming to take the time to find them.

His mind was anything but clear when he slipped your skirt off in a moment of liberation, a small — very small smile across his normally harsher looking face as he removed the fabric from your body, leaving you in only your underwear, shoes, and socks.

Perhaps he didn’t quite think through the order.

One of his feet went to the back of the other as he slipped off his down shoes, his feet then finding yours and successfully removing them, listening to the almost deafening sound of your small heels clattering to the ground, scratching his brain in the worst way.

His mind became more aware as he leaned back up, the buckle on his belt louder than it had ever been, the buttons on his trousers somewhat harder to undo, the ticking of the clock beside his bed almost mocking him for doing this so late. He was only but an adult when he discovered the need to please, and the desire to be pleased anymore.

The ticking started to become louder, more aggressive, and he couldn’t allow himself to waste any more time pretending he doesn’t feel anything, that his apathetic mind was even so far removed from the intricacies of needing another for sexual pleasure. But he wasn’t, and he needed it now.

He removed his boxers hastily, before tapping the outer side of your thigh, silently ordering for you to lift your hips for him as his hands went to the waistband of your underwear, pulling them off in one swift motion and throwing them down to the pile of clothes below.

Tom had never been naked in front of anyone, not since he was a baby anyway. It was somewhat freeing, to have someone see everything he was quite proud of, he knew he wasn’t terrible to look at, he just didn’t prioritise it above other things.

He moved closer to you, placing his hands either side of your head, his arms holding him up over you, his eyes pining into yours as if looking for you to show signs of discomfort or unwillingness, so then he could stop himself from making possibly his greatest mistake. When you showed no emotions of uncontrollable vulnerability he looked down to where the two or you would connect if he was to move just another inch.

And then he did.

You looked at Tom as his eyes bore back into yours, his body finally connecting with your own like a missing key, he had unlocked something in you as his body pushed into yours, entering you seamlessly, your arousal aiding his movements as he did so. Your mind was blocked, as if the only thing you could think about in that moment was the man in front of you, on top of you, inside of you.

It was hard to stop yourself as your mouth fell open, his hips retracting before moving against yours again, trying to figure out for the first time what either of you liked. It was different, and expectedly slightly uncomfortable. His delicacy tearing past your innocence and corrupting you just how he had wanted to.

And yet he was still unsure of what he was doing. Sex is simple when you hear about it, read books about it, learn about it. But not knowing it from experience is something everyone has to learn, even the great Tom Riddle had to teach himself the ways of the body, and it seemed he was doing a fair enough job.

Tom had obviously read about it, how else is one supposed to keep their mind occupied when they do not desire to give into mindless, and meaningless debauchery their peers were so familiar with? It was the only way to keep that last string of remaining semblance and not snap, to not give into what his body craved.

But he failed today.

His body became faster, his movements more intentional and desperate, as if he knew what he was chasing and exactly how to get there. Your eyes closed as he hit those sensitive spots inside of you, the places that brought both pain and pleasure, and you wanted both. Your head tilted to the side, your cheek resting against the cold silk sheets on his bed.

“Look at me.” His voice spoke with a slight rasp along with a shake, his vulnerability almost captivating as you looked back at him, your eyes staring directly into his. His body never stopped its movements, the hair on his head almost bouncing along with his thrusts, tipping forward as if gravity begged his soft locks touch you. He pushed his head forward as his biceps felt your fingers on them, placing his face in the crook of your neck, his lips gracing your skin as he murmured against it. “Merlin.”

It took every ounce of your self control not to find your orgasm in that very moment, the way his lips touched your skin, the sound of his words against your neck, the way his body felt — God, he was captivating.

He pulled back up, moving himself so he could kiss you again, his hips finding a comfortable rhythm as the sounds of his bed grow louder and louder, as if the poor thing was begging not to be fucked upon. Tom showed no care for the bed’s voice, nor for the clock ticking and timing his every move, his mind too torn to focus on anything besides your body on his, the way you felt around him, and how thrilling it felt to be inside of you.

The two of you were nearing the edge, your bodies dancing together as you moved against him, trying to help him find your pleasure points, although he was not doing a bad job at it. You let out a string of moans, his lips continuing their assault against your as his hips picked up their pace, his movements becoming sloppier as he found himself arriving at the peak of pleasure.

You felt the same, your lips failing to move against his as your breath came out in more laboured gasps, your body almost feeling like it’s levitating as his touch took you to another world.

You couldn’t stop yourself when it hit, your mouth opening as your face contorted. Your body shook as your eyes forced themselves shut, the pleasure was becoming overwhelming, you had hit the most anticipated part of the evening, and you had only Tom to thank.

Riddle’s head moved back to your neck, not wanting you to see the face he would make as he finished inside of you, spilling everything he has left from his body, his breath coming out a huff against your skin as he fills you for the first time. He let out another almost groan sounding vocalisation as you arched your back at the feeling of his aftermath stilling inside of you, his body coming to a halt as a wave of realisation washes over him, his mind suddenly more in tune with the sound of the clock ticking, or the breathing of you underneath him.

He had lost his virginity, and he had taken yours.

Neither of you dared to even look at each other, not wanting this to become any more real than it already had, your hands slipping from his arms and onto the bed as you tried to catch your breath, and catch your thoughts along with it.

However, the one thing you did both share in this moment was the knowledge that this was not going to be the first time, that now there was some reason for uncontrollable passion amongst your disliking for one another, and that you now had no excuse not to settle your arguments in a way much more fulfilling.

[vampsquerade]

May I request König with fem! Reader who has anxiety and insomnia? (She sometimes stay late, but tries to keep a good hygiene.)

I relate to him a lot since he was bullied to and apparently has anxiety as well :( </3

Thank you in advance ❤️

hi anon, of course i can! thank you for requesting, i appreciate it so much :,) and same dude i was bullied too so i understand how it can be a little easy to relate to him 💕 sorry you experienced that, you didn’t and nobody else deserves to go through that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

König x Female!Reader: Inner and Outer Strifes

Trigger Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of: past trauma, bullying, physical altercations; insomnia, anxiety, self destructive tendencies, self-doubt, relationship insecurities

Having someone who actually understood what it was like to go through anxiety attacks, whether they be in regards to social or emotional, made it all the better to get through with life. König always made sure to take care of you, as you would do the same for him. He pampered you, treating you so nicely as he eased you out of those intrusive thoughts that kept you trapped in your own head. The feelings of eyes staring at you, watching your every move always waned off whenever König comforted you. He would also do whatever he could to get you to go to bed, as you suffered from chronic insomnia as a result of your anxiety.

König would use himself as a form of weight for comforting pressure on you sometimes, wanting you to feel safe with him. Tonight was one of those nights where you struggled to sleep, no matter what König tried. “Meine liebe…how about we go and try a nice, warm bath, hm?” König asks as he strokes your cheek gently with the back of his hand. You sigh deeply before nodding your head. “Yeah, maybe that’ll help me this time around,” you say in a slightly hoarse and somewhat defeated tone of voice. König frowned, seeing how frustrated you were at your lack of being able to fall asleep at all.

He lifted you up carefully, taking you to the bathroom and sitting you down on the sink’s counter. You stare at König almost blankly as he turns the water on, watching his large and scarred hand moving under the water just to feel it get warm. You could see the tenderness in his eyes, and a slightly bitter smile seems to form on your face. Your eyes are filled with a sharp and indignant gaze, as if feeling wronged for the unfairness of your own thoughts. Part of you wants to just flat out ask the question that runs through your head over and over to talk about it, and another one fights and restrains that thought immensely.

You’d gone through just as much as he did as a kid, dealing with being bullied by your peers at every waking moment you sat down in those little seats. No matter what you did, they wouldn’t leave you alone; it’s where that sensation that thousands of eyes were watching you came from. It was an awful feeling because no matter how close someone got to you, it would create a barrier between you and the person you’ve come close to. The fact that you were doing this with König despite already having dated for a few months made you feel like shit.

So you popped the question.

“Do you actually enjoy doing this? Taking care of me every waking moment you’re here?” The way you phrase it seems to take the Austrian by surprise. He never expected you to ask him something so loaded. König’s head immediately whips to you, and he looks at you with his soft, blue eyes in disbelief. His own anxiety seems to spike slightly, and he stands up from his knees next to the bathtub as he lets it fill with water. “Of course I do. You and I come from similar walks of life—you’ve understood me far better than anyone else had,” he says softly. His large hand comes up to grab yours, fingers intertwining within your own.

König’s eyes shone in the light within the bathroom, but the gaze in his eyes showed a profound sadness. He would silently bring your hand up to his chest, pressing your now open palm against it. The sensation of his heart thumping hard in his chest as it rose and fell, and you can hear the Colonel give a hesitant chuckle. “Please…let me understand and love you as you have me…let me help teach you how to take better care of yourself and manage your anxieties…you know that I’m here for you, and that I would do anything for you…” König continues to speak, his voice growing ever softer.

In your head, remnants of you still continued to think this way and all you could do was blame it on those inner thoughts that never stopped. But from how adamant König was becoming, how he grew anxious at the thought of you doubting his love for you. “Meine liebe,” he begins, standing in front of you and holding you close to his chest. “Love comes without conditions…love is all about caring for one another without acting like it’s a burden,” he continues in a much gentler tone. He could see the doubt still lingering in your gaze, causing him to become a little more anxious that you couldn’t believe him.

“I promise you that I don’t mind taking care of you,” König continues to tell you, “I will do so until my dying days. Just to make sure you don’t ever end up alone ever again.” You look at the hulking man once more, staring at the way he gently moved himself to embrace you tightly. Instinctively, your arms and legs wrapped around him to comfort yourself more. “I’m sorry for doubting you,” you apologize, nuzzling your face into König’s chest and inhaling deeply. His natural musk was something you loved more than anything and it was the one thing that helped keep you calm.

He chuckles softly, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips before gently helping to undress you. “Now let’s get you that nice bath and we can try to get you to go to bed,” König says with a tender tone of affection in his voice. He then lifts you carefully and sets you down in the warm water, allowing for you to take in the comforting aromas of the soaps you were using. Your eyes close as König takes this as the chance to massage your back, whispering reassurances and affirmations into your ears. They sounded like the ones he normally used to keep himself calm in certain scenarios…it made you feel special.

After a few minutes of König rubbing your spine and shoulders, cleaning you up, he drains the water and gently starts to clean any excess soap off you with new water. He goes to grab a towel and warms it up for a minute, leaving you there with your thoughts again. Your anxieties and potential insecurities about your relationship and how much König takes care of you rear their ugly heads, but from how loving and gentle he was with you, they slowly dissipate. You look up and see him there, a smile on his face.

“Here, my love…let me lift you up…” The Colonel says as he wraps the towel around you. Its warmth against your body makes you so happy, filling you with a sense of safety as his massive arms wrap around you. König gently begins to dry you off after sitting you down on the sink’s counter again, doing so in such a slow manner that it felt so romantic. You couldn’t help but smile and reach your arms out to hold onto his face. König looks up at you, a bit confused, before his eyes go wide.

“Mmh-” He hums briefly, closing his eyes slowly and allowing you to kiss him. The way König wrapped his arms around you again now that you were dry was actually making you feel tired. You pull back just to cover your mouth as you yawn, making the Colonel smile and chuckle at you. “Feeling tired now, aren’t you? I won’t keep you awake for much longer…” König mumbles against your lips, leaning in for one more kiss after pushing your hand down.

The Austrian dresses you once more in newer, more comfortable sleeping clothes, and carries you back to your shared room. He turns the lights off and pulls the curtains shut after closing the door, having laid you back down on the bed prior to any of this. König finds himself cuddling up to you and putting his hands back onto your body.

The gentle squeeze as he began to rub your back up and down as a way to get you to sleep seems to do it’s trick.

Your eyes are shutting…

Breathing is slowing…

And your muscles are relaxing…

“I love you,” falls from your lips wearily as you hide your face into König’s comfortable chest. “I love you too, my love. Get some sleep,” he mumbles in a much softer and soothing tone. You finally seem to fall asleep after trying for so long and the Colonel follows suit once he makes sure you’ree completely asleep. Safe and protected right in his arms…

[nieceeee]

“BEST FRIENDS”

Pairing: Bestfriend!ony x reader have been friends for years. They do everything together from matching outfits to matching tattoos. But is Ony getting to close to his friend?

W/C: 1.6K

A/N: This is really a fluff from another story. I currently have 12 books right now lol and its a lot but I do a lot of writing dumps to get it out of my brain so enjoy this. Cute nicknames used. Black coded writing. Best friends to potentially something more… let me know if i should keep it going

“Ony what the fuck is that?” His big brother asks, walking up to him and tilting his head to the side. “It's a tattoo dipshit what else.” Ony says. His big brother rolls his eyes before raising his hand and bring in it down on him, right against the plastic covering the sensitive skin. “FUCK!” Ony lets out, the pain searing through his neck. “That's what you get fucking smartass. I knows it's a tattoo but, what the fuck is the date on the tattoo.” he questioned him. Ony stretches his neck, trying to relieve the pressure from the slap. “The date me and y/n met.” He groans. His brother shakes his head and walks back towards the desk, propping himself on the corner.

Ony was about to speak but is interrupted when the door opens and you stroll in, headphones in your ears playing your favorite song. You walk in clueless, bopping your head to the beat. Ony bites back the smile playing on his lips. You finally lift your head and look around the room. “Why yall staring?” You ask. “So I’m guessing this idiot isn’t the only one with a new tattoo, huh?” His brother asks you, raising his brow. You roll your lips together to keep the smile in as your eyes glance over to Ony. He smirks at you. “Well?” His brother urges. You sigh, and roll your eyes before lifting the corner of your graphic t-shirt. Right on your lower right hip was a sliver of plastic covering the matching tattoo ink on your skin. The similar infinity symbol with your friendiversary and your initials branded your hip just like the one on Ony’s upper neck, behind his ear.

“What the hell is wrong with y’all?” His brother questions, shaking his head. Ony opens his mouth to speak but his brother cuts him off. “You know what. Don’t answer that.” You give Ony another look and you both bust out laughing. “Idiots.” his brother mumbles under his breath. You shrug your bag off and plop down on the couch next to Ony. You notice his tattoo is slightly redder than before he left your shared apartment. “Damn what happened to you?” You ask, snuggling into his side. Ony tosses his arm on the back of the couch over your shoulders. “My brother is a dick, what’s new.” He says, the pain still surging through his neck. “Alright, enough playing around. Let’s get to business.” His dad says walking in the room.

After the meeting was over, you start to grab your things. You feel a heavy set of arms wrap around your waist. “Onyyy.” You fuss trying to push him off. “Hey prettygirl. You ready to go?” He asks still holding on to you. “Yeah, I need some food.” You say flipping around in his arms. He smiles down at you. “What you want me to feed you pretty girl?” He asks you. You pretend to think deeply, scrunching your eyebrows and tapping your chin in thought. “Aight bruh, you doing too much. What you want to eat?” He rushes you. “I don't knooow, I want seafood but I also could tear some birria up. OH, and some ramen too.” You list out. “Really, y/n.” He says with a straight face. “Well you asked.” You shrug your shoulders. He finally releases you. “Okay, order your food.” He says. “But I don't know which one I want.” You pout. “So get all of it. Have it sent to the apartment.” Only says pulling out his card and handing it to you. “Really onybunny?” You squeal, snatching the card from him. He shakes his head at you. “You and this damn nickname, I swear.” He says feigning annoyance. You knew he wasn't bothered by it. You had been calling him that since yall were kids. “Yo, Ony can we talk with you for a second.” His brothers call from behind him. “Go ahead. I’ll meet you back at our place, cool?” He says. You nod and lift up to your tippy toes to press a gentle kiss under his chin. He leans down right after you flatten your feet and place one on your nose, another ‘thing’ you do to each other all the time. You shift your bag onto your shoulder and head out.

Ony turns to his older brothers once you left the room. “What’s up yall?” He asks them, a slight look of confusion on his face. They exchanged glances with each other before his oldest brother speaks up. “You don't think y’all are getting too close?” He finally says. “Who?Me and Y/N? Where is this coming from?” Ony asks them. He felt his annoyance start to rise but kept his composure. “I mean I get it. She's your bestfriend. But matching tattoos, thousands of dollars on cars, diamonds. Just how deep is this going Ony.” He questions. “You been watching my account?” Ony says, agitation surging through his blood. “I watch everybody’s account. As the financial leader of both companies, that's my job. And even if I didn't. You think we don't hear the rumors? How many girlfriends you run though because you don’t ‘treat them like your bestie’ or the fact that y/n comes in here everyday for training with a new set of jewelry? Come on lil bro. Be real with us.” He says.

Ony looks around the room at his brothers, each with a different face, some of concern, some evasive as if this was something they’re been avoiding discussing. “So, I’m guessing this ‘family meeting’ wasn’t a coincidence, huh?” He asks, rolling his eyes and slumping down into a chair. “Don’t be like that Onyonkopon. We are your brothers. We are just looking out for your best interest.” One of the others spoke up. “Do you seriously think y/n would use me?” He questions them. “Y/n is a good girl but I don't know how I would feel if someone started dropping racks on me.” His brother shrugs. Ony reels his anger back into his body and takes a deep breath.

“Look,” he starts. “Y’all have known y/n nearly as long as yall have known me as your brother. Y’all were here the day I found her and before then. And even in her most broken moments, she’s never wanted anything from me. The gifts, the jewelry, all of it. I had to force her to even take it.” He explains. They started to shift slightly. “And the thousands? I make that shit in my sleep. Besides y/n has her own money. And anything I give her she matches that shit right back.” “What you talking about? She gets you stuff?” His brother asks, eyes widening. “Yes, but she doesn’t use the accounts we have. She has her own. You think I bought that Royce out there? No. That was her trump card for me buying her the damn Bentley for her birthday.” Ony explains. “And the jewelry?” He questions. “You do realize I come in here with a new watch everyday right?” “She bought you those?” He asks, leaning forward. “Every single one.” Ony expressed to them. Their faces turn solemn at the accusations they made.

“Listen, I know yall are looking to for me and I love y’all to death for it.” Ony starts. “But yall are wrong for this and yall know it. Y/n has been in my life since I was 6. Yall have watched us both grow together. Y’all know both of us better than that.” He says. “We know. We know.” His brother sighs. “Yeah, we are close. We are best friends. We went to school together. We literally live in the same damn apartment. But that’s where we stand.” Ony shrugs. “Okay, bro we get it. Like you said, we love you and we are just looking out for you.” He explains. “And her and I will always be best friends. Until we turn 45.” Ony says. “HUH?” They look to him confused. “Oh, we made a pact. If we are both still single by the time we are 45, we are eloping and traveling the world together.” Ony shrugs, laughter coating his words. “Ony, what the fuck?” His brother said as they laughed together

After their “family meeting” Ony quickly made his way back to your apartment. “Y/n? You here pretty girl?” He calls out as he unlocks the door. “Yo?” He calls again after not getting a response. He walks towards your room and hears the sound of running water. Your voice carries over the song you had blasting over the speakers. Ony smiles to himself and he steps back and turns to his own room. He tosses his things to the side and jumps in the shower himself, tossing on some grey sweats and walking out to the living room. You walk out of the back of the house in an oversized tee and some shorts. “Bruh is that my shirt?” He asks you. “Yes, and what about it?” You say, placing your hand on your hip and cocking your head to the side. “I literally buy you clothes and you stay in mine.” He shakes his head at you and walks over to the couch. You giggle to yourself. “So, was everything okay with your brothers?” You ask him sliding right next to him on the couch. “Yeah. Nothing to worry about.” He says.

Ony knew you like the back of his hand and he knew telling you would only make you stress. That was the last thing he wanted. “You sure onybun?” You look up at him. His deep brown eyes meeting yours. “I'm positive. I love you pretty girl.” He says softly. “Love you too Ony.” You smile. He pulls you close and turns the tv on. As you turn to watch tv, he finds himself pulling you closer, his thick arms wrapping around your body, keeping you snug to his. Yeah, bestfriends…

[marvelmusing]

Blood Hunger

Part of the Tender Loving Care AU

Pairing: Vampire!Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Summary: Aleksander takes you on your first ever visit to a feeding den, remaining by your side to offer advice and support for this new and unfamiliar experience.

Warnings [18+]: blood, typical vampire themes, blood consumption, allusions to sexual content, usual soft dom vibes from Aleksander

My Masterlist

The feeding den Aleksander takes the two of you to is unlike anything depicted in the films and television shows that are so popular with humans, or from what you’ve seen in the wild selfies and videos posted on Instagram by much younger vampires. 

Most feeding dens are similar to nightclubs, allowing both human and vampire patrons inside as long as they are above the legal drinking age. The higher scale feeding dens are more selective, only allowing vampires who have a membership into the building, aside from the humans who work there. 

The humans working at all respectable feeding dens are regularly tested to ensure that their blood is clean and healthy to avoid any diseases from being passed onto the vampires feeding from them. High scale dens, like the one Aleksander has brought you to, also provide their human workers with plenty of benefits to ensure that they remain both physically and mentally healthy. After all, being fed on can be an intense experience. 

“How do you decide who to…” 

As your gaze lands on a human, tilting her head back for a vampire to sink his fangs into her neck on the other side of the room, your words trail off into nothing. Hunger stirs in your stomach at the sight, despite your nerves.  

“How do you decide who you would like to feed on?” Aleksander suggests knowingly. 

You nod. 

“Generally just whoever smells the most appealing.” 

Subconsciously, your eyes trace over the exposed skin of his throat, lingering on the thrum of his pulse as his heart beats its steady rhythm. When you realise you’ve been staring, your cheeks flush with a flustered warmth and the corner of Aleksander’s lips twitch with the hint of a smile as he observes where your gaze has focused. One of his dark brows lifts, his smile spreading into a smirk as you drag your eyes away from him to survey the floor once again. 

“Although for today I would suggest you take comfort into account, instead of taste,” he adds. 

His words make you frown, and you tilt your head as you turn back to face him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Since it’s your first time, you should pick someone who doesn’t intimidate you - someone who will make you feel at ease about biting them.” 

The only person you’ve ever fed from is Aleksander. Just the thought of feeding on someone else has apprehension prickling over your skin despite the fact that you haven’t fed since yesterday at noon. There’s a gnaw of hunger in your stomach and the urge to bounce your leg to dispel the nervous energy runs through the limb in question. He brushes his knuckles against yours in a reassuring motion. Staring down at his hand, nerves continue to roll over in your stomach and your thumb scratches lightly against the palm of your other hand. 

“How will I know when to stop?” 

Aleksander places his hand over both of yours, enveloping them entirely with his palm which halts your nervous fidgeting, knowing that if you scratched for long enough your skin would break under the scrape of your nails, causing your palm to bleed.  

“Only selfish vampires are the ones who succumb to their instincts. You aren’t a selfish person, milaya.” 

There’s hesitation in your eyes but as soon as they meet Aleksander’s, and find nothing but genuine belief there, some confidence fills your chest. Inhaling shakily, you nod, and he provides your hands with a gentle squeeze. When he loosens his hold, his hand drops down casually to settle on your thigh as a reassuring pressure that reminds you of his presence by your side. Despite his confidence, concerns and worries continue to tighten around your lungs.  

“You still look worried,” he observes. 

“Where am you supposed to bite?” 

He considers your question briefly before he shrugs casually. 

“It depends on your preference,” he explains, circling his thumb gently over your thigh. “Some people find the neck too intimate for a casual feeding, while some struggle to find the right angle for the wrist. Whatever is easiest for you both.” 

“Would you stay with me?” 

He nods. 

“If that’s what you want?” You nod quickly and a soft smile traces over his lips. “Has anyone caught your eye?” 

There had been a young man who gained your attention earlier, though his features bear an almost embarrassingly close resemblance to Aleksander, which makes you rather reluctant to admit how appealing he seemed. Rather pointedly, you keep your gaze fixed on the buttons of Aleksander’s shirt. 

“He’s too young,” you say quietly in a mumbled protest. 

Aleksander laughs, a sound that makes you blush, his teeth flashing as he tilts his head back slightly. With amusement sparkling in his eyes and a carefree grin on his face, he doesn’t look over four hundred years old. 

“I hate to tell you this, but with that mentality almost everyone here is too young for you.” 

The smile that tugs at your lips is sheepish as you look down at your feet, swinging them back and forth momentarily.  

“Except for you.” 

His expression softens as he nods with a smile. 

“Except for me.” There’s a small pause as he holds your gaze before he reminds you in an almost teasing voice, “But you can’t feed on me all the time.” 

Aleksander stands, pushing his chair back into place before he extends his hand out towards you. 

“Let’s go find him then,” he says, his eyes alight with laughter despite the low lighting around us. Taking his hand, you frown at him and stand up by his side. 

“Who?” 

“That young man you had your eye on when we arrived.” 

Your jaw drops and Aleksander laughs again quietly. Immediately, you clasp your hands over your face to hide the embarrassed blush spreading over your cheeks. Had you truly been that obvious? 

“Stop it,” you protest weakly, trying not to smile at the sound of his laughter. 

He chuckles, tugging you into his side as we move around the chairs. As always, your body slots easily beside Aleksander’s and he settles his arm around your shoulders, a reassuring pressure to keep your steps even with his. He lowers his head down to murmur against your ear, 

“If you do well, I’ll feed on you afterwards.” 

At that, your head perks up. 

“Really?” 

He almost looks surprised by your reaction, his head tilted aside whilst his lips flicker into a half-smile. 

“If you would like you to?” There’s some hesitation in his eyes, as he scours your face in an attempt at reading your thoughts. You nod instantly. 

The man you had noticed earlier is seated in a booth at the far end of the den. There’s a pitcher of ice-cold water and a handful of glasses perched in the centre of the table, alongside a small candle that flickers through a frosted glass jar. The dark emerald leather seat curls in a half-circle around the polished wooden table. 

Nervous energy thrums through your body. How do you politely ask someone if you can drink their blood? He offers you a friendly smile, raising a brow as he glances between your uncertain eyes and Aleksander hovering behind you as a safety net. 

“Hungry?” the man asks. 

The smile that tugs at your lips is sheepish as you nod, and he slides over in the booth to provide some open space beside him. Despite Aleksander’s teasing earlier, the man doesn’t look much younger than you, physically. Hesitantly, you move forwards as Aleksander stands beside the empty seat opposite you. 

“You don’t mind if you stay, do you?” Aleksander says casually.

His words are phrased like a polite question, but his tone makes it evident that the two of you would simply find someone else if Aleksander wasn’t allowed to remain with you. It doesn’t come to that though because the man shakes his head amicably. 

“Not at all.” He glances at you, raising a brow with an unfaltering smile. “First time?” You nod and he offers you his hand to help you sit down beside him. “I’ve done this plenty of times before.” 

Nerves continue to buzz uncomfortably beneath your skin. If your hands weren’t clasped so tightly together in your lap, they would be shaking for everyone to see. But Aleksander’s presence in the seat opposite you provides some reassurance, allowing you to focus on the man beside you and the task at hand. 

“I’m James.” 

Smiling nervously, you offer him your name in return.

“Have you fed on anyone before now?” he asks.

Immediately, your flickers over to Aleksander while you fidget with your fingers, smoothing the pad of your thumb over each of your nails. 

“Just one other person.” 

James nods in acknowledgement, his easy smile unfaltering as he tilts his head to look at you. 

“Where would you like to start?” 

There’s a moment of hesitation as you think through the different places you could bite before you offer him a suggestion. 

“Wrist?” 

He nods again, unbuttoning the cuff of his left sleeve. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

At the sight of his bare forearm being revealed, your mouth goes dry. His heartbeat is only slightly elevated in anticipation, though he appears to be quite calm about the situation. He said he’s done this on a number of occasions which comforts you a little. At least he knows what he’s doing - and Aleksander is here with you. 

Slowly, you take James’s hand in your own, bearing his wrist with veins openly on display. If the unnaturally chilled temperature of your hands unsettles him he doesn’t show it, which you appreciate. Inhaling a deep breath, the scent of his blood fills your senses and your mouth waters. You glance up at his face again, assessing his expression, and he gives you a small nod of consent. 

Closing your eyes, you extend your fangs and bite down into his skin. Hot, fresh blood pools into your mouth, a delightfully savoury taste that you swallow down eagerly with a small hum of pleasure. It’s different without Aleksander’s hand at the nape of your neck or cupping your jaw and you feel slightly unbalanced without his touch to ground you. 

You drink until you’re almost satisfied, allowing his blood to just take the edge off your hunger, since you don’t want to risk taking too much from him. Licking his wounds feels too intimate, but you don’t want to leave him openly bleeding after the bite, so you keep your mouth over the puncture marks until the blood has slowed considerably. Only then do you lean back, giving him some space after feeding on him. 

Sucking your tongue against the front of your teeth, you attempt to clear the rest of his blood from your mouth. James breathes out a soft laugh, his head slumped back against the seat behind you. Aleksander had mentioned that with more time your venom would be strong for him, and you can only imagine how it might affect a human like James. 

His smile lingers as he tilts his head lazily towards you, blinking through the haze in his eyes as he does so. When he manages to sit up, he straightens himself with a palpable energy alight in his eyes. He looks rejuvenated as he slides a hand into his hair, ruffling it slightly as he breathes out another quiet laugh of disbelief. Blood hunger sated, the tension has melted from your chest, allowing you to breathe easily and offer him a small smile. 

“Thank you.” 

He nods instantly, hands splayed on the seat beneath you on each side of his thighs. Despite the fact that he’s lost blood, there’s a flush to his cheeks and he seems ready for anything. Usually, you feel tired after Aleksander feeds on you, most likely from the combination of his venom and the loss of blood. Being fed on clearly has the opposite effect on a human. 

“If you ever need a feed, I’m here most evenings.” 

His offer stuns you momentarily but you nod in response. When he tilts his head pointedly towards the rest of the club, you slide out of his way to allow him out of the booth. The two of you part ways after an exchange of nods and smiles. 

There’s a slight wobble in his legs as he walks towards the bar, and you find yourself watching him as you sit back down onto the edge of the seat. Too surprised by James’s response to your bite, you don’t realise Aleksander has stood up as well. He nudges your knee gently with his, encouraging you to slide further into the booth, which you do. 

“That was easier than you thought it would be,” you admit. 

Aleksander smiles widely at you as he takes a seat in the open space beside you. 

“You did very well.” 

Warm blood rushes to the surface of your skin, as he presses his lips softly against your cheek. His nose nuzzles affectionately over your cheek, as he breathes in the scent of your blush, his chest expanding with the depth of his inhale. Your stomach flips at the sound of a small hum of pleasure catching in the back of his throat and he presses a gentle kiss to your jawline, tracing his way up to your ear. 

“You smell delightful.” 

The heat of your skin prickles down the length of your body. 

“I do?” 

He nods, humming quietly in confirmation, and his next words, a low admission, are murmured against the shell of your ear.

“My teeth are just aching for a bite of you.” 

Tilting your head backwards, you bear as much of your throat as possible for him to feed from, your eyes fluttering closed in anticipation of his bite. When nothing happens, when there’s no sting of pain from his fangs descending into your skin or flood of pleasure from his venom, you open your eyes and blink at him in confusion. 

Aleksander cradles the back of your head with one of his hands, the nape of your neck fitting perfectly in the palm of his hand. His fingertips graze over the hollow of your throat and there’s no doubt he can feel the bob of your throat as you swallow. His eyes scour over your expression intently. 

“May I?” he asks. 

You nod. He waits patiently for you to find your voice. 

“Yes, please.” 

He smiles though there’s some distance in his eyes as he appears to think something over in his mind. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

“Would you… would you mind if you made this bite a little messy?” 

You blink at him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“When I bite you, my venom encourages you to relax and stay still, meaning the puncture wound is always small. But if I were to tilt your head slightly during the feeding-” he demonstrates the motion, tilting your head back slightly with one of his fingers now tucked under your chin “-your skin would tear, meaning there would be more blood for me to feed on.” 

His hands drop down to settle casually on your thighs, a comforting weight as he remains close to your body without crowding you too much. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the cool air brushing over the skin that had previously been shielded by his hand. 

“You don’t have to agree. Some people find it enjoyable.” 

In your ears, your voice sounds as breathless as you feel, your lashes fluttering at the sight of his darkened eyes in the low light. 

“Enjoyable?” 

“Well,” he starts with a small smirk. “I would have to clean up the mess with my tongue.” 

There’s a beat of silence while Aleksander’s eyes twinkle with amusement at the sight of your widened eyes. 

“Oh.” 

The thought of Aleksander’s warm tongue moving over the length of your throat, lapping up the blood that spills from his bite, makes heat curl through your body. Once again, he traces his knuckle along your jawline to keep your eyes on his as if he can sense how flustered you are. He cocks his head, curiosity sparkling in the depths of his gaze as he examines you. 

“Are you aroused?” 

Instantly, your legs snap together, the bones of your kneecaps clashing as you press them closed. The heat spreading over your cheeks dives down your body. 

“No.” 

He purses his lips together momentarily, suppressing the laughter that shimmers in his eyes at your sudden reaction. 

“It’s alright if you are. Feeding in public is a rather intimate affair.” 

“It’s not the feeding.” 

He lifts a dark brow. 

“It’s not?” 

“This… this doesn’t happen to me very often.” 

His brows draw together for a brief moment, his forehead creasing slightly as he observes your widened eyes and heated cheeks. Then the corner of his mouth lifts and a softness creeps into his dark eyes. 

“Oh, sweet girl, is it me?” 

His doting tone has you teetering on a knife’s edge of a great big something. Something that you’re desperate for, your fingers prickling with the urge to sink your nails in and claw at this feeling to get what you want - and Aleksander is what you want. 

“Aleksander, please, bite me.” 

There’s a glimmer in his eyes, as if he’s considering teasing you even further. Though the temptation of biting you seems too much of an incentive for him to move closer. 

He takes your chin gently between his fingers, turning your head to one side to reveal a large portion of your neck for him. His nose traces over your pulse as he breathes in your scent. Your heart pounds expectantly, waiting for him to bite down on your throat, anticipation tingling over your skin. 

“Ready?” 

You nod. There’s a brief pause as he extends his fangs. 

“Breathe, little love.”

It’s only then that you realise you’ve been holding your breath and light-headedness has descended. He waits until you’ve taken a soothing inhale, your lungs filling with air which instantly alleviates most of your nervousness. He watches you breathe steadily for several moments. Then Aleksander sinks his teeth into your skin. 

Like always, there’s a small sting of pain that quickly diminishes as his venom begins threading through your veins. A muted whimper catches in the back of your throat and you breathe out a heavy sigh as bliss fills your body. 

Aleksander’s hands slide up your thighs, slipping beneath your skirt to squeeze at the crease where your thighs meet your hips. His sudden touch in such an intimate area has you gasping, your head falling backwards as you shift yourself closer to his body. The movement itself causes Aleksander’s fangs to drag through your skin, drawing more blood to the surface. 

He holds the back of your head, preventing you from moving any further to ensure that he doesn’t spill too much blood. He sucks diligently on the wound, swallowing down as much of your blood as possible. A rivulet of hot blood traces its way down your throat and you shudder at the sensation. Aleksander withdraws his fangs from your skin to lap up the line of blood running down over your collarbone. Sticky blood continues to bloom from the puncture wounds as his tongue licks over your thundering pulse, removing the blood that is already beginning to dry there.

He breathes heavily from the exertion of feeding, each breath brushing delicately over your skin in a gentle caress. His venom helps the skin close naturally, though it takes longer than usual since the wounds are larger this time. Aleksander keeps his face tucked into the crook of your neck, tongue tracing lazily over your skin whenever a droplet of blood rolls down from the wound. 

Aleksander’s venom threads its way through your veins, filling your limbs with a comfortable heaviness. Your entire body is enveloped in a sense of comfort and warmth, like being cocooned in a soft blanket, and your sense of hearing is limited to the pounding of your heart, beating a steady rhythm as you also attempt to catch your breath from such an intense feeding.

The sound of Aleksander pouring a glass of water is distant and muffled. Even with your eyes closed, focusing your attention on him as he drinks some water helps you to reorientate yourself. He encourages you to drink some water and you’re surprised by how dry your throat is. 

“Easy,” he murmurs. “Small sips.” 

It takes some difficulty to do as he says, but Aleksander’s hand at the nape of your neck helps to control the speed of your drinking. 

Slowly, the rest of the world comes back into focus. Aleksander’s body shields you from most of the sights and sounds of the club, which seem too bright and too loud compared to earlier. It’s then that you notice the concern in his eyes. 

“Can I come home with you tonight?” you ask him quietly, fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve. He nods, expression softening further. 

“Of course. Now?” 

You nod. There’s a shakiness to your legs, they feel almost disconnected from the rest of your body as you look down at your heels. Despite being well practised in wearing heels, the thought of walking has apprehension clouding your mind. Aleksander notices your frown. 

“What’s wrong?” 

It’s difficult to string your thoughts together into something coherent to say to him as an explanation and your lips part for a moment. Nothing comes out as you attempt to gather your concerns. 

“I don’t think I can walk in heels, but the buckles look too complicated for me to unfasten in this state.” 

He breathes out a soft laugh. 

“Well, there’s an easy fix for that.” 

He descends onto one knee smoothly, crouching down to unbuckle your heels. His thumb circles soothingly over where the strap has been pressed against your ankle, offering a tender touch to a place you hadn’t even realised was hurting. He squeezes gently at your calves, fingertips casual in their motions, right where you can feel the muscles trembling slightly from the aftermath of his venom. 

He tilts his head aside, his eyes scouring over the length of the floor. It takes you a long moment to realise that he’s searching for any broken glass or spilt drinks that might hurt your bare feet or cause you to slip on your way to the exit. When his gaze returns to meet yours you smile softly in appreciation, and he offers his hand to help you stand. 

The smooth polished stone that makes up the flooring is surprisingly warm against your bare skin, and you frown down at your feet. 

“Underfloor heating,” Aleksander murmurs quietly in explanation. 

“Oh.” A pleased shudder runs from the soles of your feet up to your chest. “It’s really nice.” 

He breathes out a quiet laugh, keeping you tucked close into the side of his body. He’s warm too, and you find yourself gripping onto the front of his shirt - both to keep your balance and to make the most of his warmth. The straps of your heels hang delicately from his fingers, swinging lightly as you walk. 

As you near the exit, goosebumps prickle over your skin and Aleksander shrugs his jacket over your shoulders to protect you from the cool breeze. He presses you close against his side and when he notices your questioning look he murmurs against your temple. 

“Your body temperature is about to drop after being fed on.” 

Almost instantaneously, a shudder wracks through your body and you grip tighter onto the fabric of his shirt, trying to draw some heat from his body to yours. 

He stops at the top of the steps that make up the entrance of the building and you frown at him. The frown on your face deepens when his arm tightens around your shoulders, his other arm reaching for your legs. A small squeal of surprise escapes your lips as he sweeps you up against his chest and you wrap your arms hurriedly around his neck to steady yourself. Aleksander’s smile is wide as he carries you down the steps. 

The sudden shift from the heat of the club to the darkened streets make your shivers relentless, your body trembling in the desperate hope of creating some warmth of your own - despite how impossible that is. When he notices your teeth chattering, concern fills Aleksander’s features, and he begins to walk faster towards his car. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you bury your face into his chest to ground yourself and cling to a little more warmth. When you reach his car, Aleksander places you into the passenger seat with ease, pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead before he closes the door behind you. 

Once the keys have been turned in the ignition, Aleksander dials up the heating system and a delightfully warm rush of air floods over your face. Eager for more, you hover your hands in front of the vents to warm your ice-cold fingers. He takes your hands in his own, cupping them between both of his palms to shield them from the cold that lingers in the air of the car. Gently, he begins to rub against your fingers and the friction encourages some warmth to settle beneath your skin. 

The two of you stay like this for a long moment, Aleksander warming your hands as you continue to shiver occasionally due to the last slivers of cold leaving your body. The car hums quietly and combined with the rush of hot air they provide a soothing ambience that has your eyes growing heavy. Exhaustion is common after being fed on and all you want to do now is curl up beside Aleksander and go to sleep.  

With your fingers still feeling half-numb from the cold, you fumble with the clasp of the seatbelt, trying several times to buckle it with limited success. After your third or fourth attempt, Aleksander takes it from your hands, slotting it firmly into place for you. When your eyes lock, your cheeks warm and offer him a grateful smile. An unreadable emotion crosses over his eyes but he only nods in acknowledgement, shifting his attention towards the car as he puts it into gear. 

He turns to look out of the rearview window, placing his hand on the headrest behind you as he does so. When his eyes skim over you, concern touches his features and he says quietly, 

“Feel free to get some rest. Traffic should be light at this time, so we’ll be home soon.” 

Home. The thought of  Aleksander considering the two of you together at his house as a home has a cosy warmth spreading in your chest which encourages you to close your eyes. As always, the reassuring sound of his heartbeat and breathing has a sense of calm filling you as you anticipate each soft exhale. Before you know it, you’re falling into a comfortable slumber. 

-

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