#some of these got drawn like 2 weeks apart. that's why they look different

[wolfram-but-art]

promissed blursed images

and the original images

there wewre supposed to be about 4 more but i got tired

[chloe-skywalker]

Awkward Situation - Paul Lahote

Paul x reader!Fem!Swan

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,541

Requested: Twilight imagine the part in New Moon where Bella slaps Paul and her little sister is their w/her Paul imprints on the reader and jacob isn’t happy about it and stuff like that. - @cokecola4211

Authors Note: I enjoyed writing this I tried to make it different from what I’ve read before. Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took awhile to post my queue has been FULL lol

Masterlist

Twilight Masterlist

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“Bella, maybe Jake just wants to be alone- or maybe some guy time.” Y/n suggested it to her slightly older sister. Bella and Y/n were hardly even a year apart in age but that didn’t stop Y/n from occasionally getting treated like a baby compared to Bella.

Y/n knew Jake and Bella had been spending a lot of time together recently and it seemed to be good for her sister after the Cullens left. But Jake had become sick or at least that's what he and Billy had been telling Bella. Y/n wanted to just leave it, he’d come back on his own either way. But her sister, no Bella , needed answers now and she wasn't going to wait to get them on Jacobs time.

Bella shook her head with a tight expression on her face. “No, Y/n. Something's up. Somethings wrong I can feel it.”

“Bella, we’ve both known Jake practically our whole lives maybe he’s just-” Y/n shook her head lifting her hand in q wave motion before dropping it down to her lap. “I don’t know, going through puberty?”

“His dad keeps saying he has mono but it’s been almost 2 weeks and he won’t even answer texts. Let alone calls.” Bella explained further as she pulled into the Black’s driveway.

“Maybe he’s still sick.” Y/n tried one last time as Bella put the car in park.

“Well, we're going to find out.” Bella stated before she got out of the car.

Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car to chase her sister muttering to herself. “This isn’t gonna go well.”

Bella knocked on the door and shortly after Billy opened the door. Bella had told the man in the wheelchair that she needed to see Jake, but all she got was that he wasn’t there. Next thing Y/n knew her sister had welcomed herself into the home practically going right over Billy.

“Bella.” Billy called after her but it was too late and Bella wasn’t listening anyways.

“I’m sorry, Billy.” Y/n said apologizing for her sister's actions.

Billy let out a sigh and sent a tired smile to the younger Swan. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n.”

It wasn’t even a few minutes later that Bella stormed out of the house and Y/n followed yelling after her. “Bella!”

“Hey!” Bella shouted and shoved one of the shirtless males Y/n somewhat recognized. “What did you do to him?!”

That's all Y/n could really hear from so far back. So she shouted out to her sister again, hoping to defuse the situation if she couldn’t just get her to leave. “Bella!” 

“Y/n wha-” Jake spoke out suddenly standing beside the Y/h/c-ed girl.

“She dragged me here with her.” That's all Y/n had to say for Jake to understand what was happening. Charlie got Y/n in the devoirce so Y/n and Jake grew up together their whole lives as siblings in Forks. They could understand what the other was saying with just a look.

Jake nodded before looking back at the scene and then pointed “And that?”

“She slapped that Paul guy.” Y/n told him and that changed his demeanor.

“Crap. Y/n, stay back.” Jake said as he noticed Paul shaking.

Y/n wondered why but then she made eye contact with the Paul guy her sister was taking her anger out on. It was as if time showed for a minute. All the members of the pack put it together, and that's when Jacob flipped and inevitably so did Paul.

Seeing them turn into giant wolves Y/n ran to her sister. “Bella, you okay?” Her attention was drawn back to the wolves fighting not far from everyone. “Woah. Now that's cool.”

“Really, Y/n?” Bella asked, turning her head to face her sister in disbelief at how her sister wasn’t scared.

“What?” Y/n shrugged. In her opinion that was cool. Way cooler than Vampire super speed, the eyes, and sparkling under the sunlight someone dumped a 1,000 pounds of glitter on you. The Paul guy and Jake turned into Wolves! And not just wolves, Giant wolves. That's impressive.

“What just happened?” Bella asked Sam Uley she believed his name was. All the while Y/n was confused as to the looks she was getting from the others, a few she had grown up with just like Jake. 

“Paul imprinted.” Sam stated looking at Bella. Then Jacob came out of the woods still looking pissed off.

“On Y/n.” Jake grumbled, clearly pissed off at the new found fact.

“Take her back to Emily’s. Bella too.” Sam told Jacob which resulted in a very loud scoff from the younger male. “That's an order Jacob. Embry go with them.”

“Hey, Em.” Y/n nodded to Embry. They have been friends for years. It brought comfort to Y/n, knowing someone else. Someone that wasn’t pissed that would be in the car with her, her sister, and Jake.

“Hey, Y/n/n.” Embry smiled. He had missed seeing her around since he phased.

“Why is Jake so pissed?” Y/n asked Embry hoping he could fill her in on what's going on exactly.

Embry sighed before explaining. “Him and Paul don’t get along, and he’s protective of you. As he should be, you're like brother and sister.”

“Why would he be protective over me when it comes to Paul? I’ve never met Paul before.” Y/n squinted with a furrowed expression as she questioned Embry confused.

“Paul should be the one to explain it to you. It’s not my place, or anyone else's in the pack.” Embry felt bad for Y/n. She had no idea what was going on and it very much involved her. But like he said it wasn’t his place to explain any of this to her. 

Y/n nodded in understanding, kind of. But maybe he could explain something else to her. “Can you explain the pack part to me then?”

Embry nodded with a smile stretching across his lips. “Yes, I can do that.”

It wasn’t a long drive but long enough for Embry to explain about the pack to Y/n.

“Who’s place is this again?” Y/n heard Bella ask and she listened for Jake’s answer.

“Emily and Sam’s.” Jake answered as he got out of the truck.

Jake and Embry helped Y/n off of the truck bed. With a quiet thank you from Y/n they all headed inside. The only ones that weren’t there was Sam and Paul. But it didn’t take long for them to join in on the group.

“Can I talk to you? Outside. Alone.” Paul asked nervously looking softly at Y/n, to let her know she could reject his request if she wanted to. Y/n nodded ‘yes’ getting up to follow him.

“Over my dead body.” Jake growled, glaring with his eyes set on burning holes into Paul.

“Jake.” Sam said his name firmly. Making Jake stand down. For now.

“Come on.” Paul nodded his head towards outside Y/n nodded as well and followed him outside the small nice home.

They walked into the woods for awhile, Y/n assumed long enough to be far away enough so the rest of the pack couldn’t hear their conversation. “So, I assume that they explained the whole pack thing to you?”

“Embry did, yeah. But not the imprint part?” Y/n spoke with a unsure tone, hoping she got the word right. Paul nodded with a twitch of his lips. “Not the imprint part. What is that by the way?”

“Guess I should explain that part then.” Paul smiled, hearing her just say the word of what she is to him. That made him feel warm on the inside, which was a new feeling for him. He did like it though.

“Embry said it was only your place to tell me what it is.” Y/n looked to the still shirtless male with curiosity. What did it mean? What did it have to do with her? And why did Paul have to be the one to explain it?

“I have a spot I’d like to take you, and I’ll explain on the way.” Paul suggested there was a place he wanted to show her that only he knew about. Great view that he never that he never showed anyone.

“Ok” Y/n knew she was being way trusting with this stranger. But he felt trustworthy. She didn’t know why but he does.

Paul stopped them for a second in their tracks. He really needed to know something and it was bothering him that he didn’t. “I do have a question before we get too far that I should know that I do not.”

Y/n let out an amused breath before asking. “And what's that?” 

“Your name.” Paul smirked

Y/n nodded with a smile. “Y/n. Y/n Swan.”

“Well, Y/n Swan. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Paul’s smirk fell into a smile. He always teased the others who already had their imprints about how whipped they were, but now he was starting to understand.

Taglist:

@gruffle1 @padawancat97

[sweethartlullaby]

hi again! i really loved part 2 of the cheating scenario i loveee your writing! i think the breakup and make up idea is good, could u write it ? 🥹

word count: 1027 genre/theme: angst (ofc), new beginnings as always, imagine who you would like... find part i here find part ii here find part iv here sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist songs: can't go back - troye sivan (recommended by anonymous!)

He has anemones today. 

No yelling. Just wait for her.

He sits on the bench just outside of your apartment and he waits. It’s a Friday, which means that you’ll be home early, which is soon. He checks the flowers and makes sure that they aren’t wilting. He used to buy flowers for you early on, but after a while, he just stopped.

He got comfortable.

He hasn’t touched a drink in months but he still finds it tempting when you reject him. He has been in this exact spot for weeks now. Every Friday, he sits there and he waits for you to come back home, wishing that this time, you’ll look at him and hopefully speak to him. 

All the times he has done this, you walk past him and never come out again. He waits outside for an hour or so before he leaves the flowers on the bench and walks away. And every Friday, he tells himself that he has to try, that maybe this time it truly is different. 

He keeps checking the flowers, sometimes standing to stretch out his legs as he checks the time. It should be any minute now.

And then he finally sees you. 

You are walking slowly this time and he fights the urge to call you. He sits there and he wishes and waits. And then you do the impossible. 

You approach him and he is too startled to say anything. He just moves to the side as you sit and leaves ample space between the two of you. 

“What are they?” You murmur.

“Uhm,” He can feel his heart thump against the flesh in his chest. 

“A-Anemones.”

You only chuckle weakly.

“For new beginnings?” You finally turn to him and he has to keep it in himself to not burst at the seams.

“Yeah, the old man told me they were his wife’s favorite.”

“Did they break up too at some point?” You ask.

“Didn’t get to ask.” He places the flowers near you and retreats back to his own space.

It’s silent for a while and he can feel his hands shaking but he isn’t sure if it is because he is excited that you’re finally acknowledging him or because he’s too nervous for what you’ll say. 

“I keep all of them.” You suddenly say.

“Sorry?”

“They’re all, at least the alive ones, in my living room. You give so many that I have some in jars that I saved.” You laugh a little and he finds himself smiling as he fidgets with his fingers.

Silence again. 

“I thought you’d have lots to say, considering you’ve been coming here for a long time.”

He only nods slowly. He had so much to say before but now that he’s here, he can’t find the right words to blurt out. His silent stature now is quite a contrast to the thought that he would be on his knees, begging her to take him back. 

“So, do you?” 

“Hm?” He asks. 

“Do you have a lot to say?” Your eyes are glassy and all his nervousness has washed away. He just stares back and he finds himself lost in you. He has looked at you a million times, kissed you a hundred, and held you for longer. Yet he feels that he is looking at you for the first time again. He is just as drawn, just as enticed, and just as helpless around you. 

“I…” He takes a deep breath and he is about to speak when she bursts into tears. He can only stare for a moment. He doesn’t know what to do as you sob in front of him. 

“Why’d you even do it? Why’d you cheat?” He opens his mouth to speak.

“Why couldn’t you just break up with me like a man or tell me how you felt?” You beg and he shudders. He thought that you were better, that you had moved on from him. 

But you look so torn here now. And he feels so helpless, just like that night you told him to leave. He sees the tears in your eyes and he tries to stop himself from blurting out the tells of blame he used to say to himself each night. 

You pick the flowers and caress the petals gently. 

“You could’ve just left.” You murmur, shaking his core. You were right. He could have. So why didn’t he?

“I-”

“No,” His voice trembles.

“No, I…need to say this. I am sorry.” He looks right at you. He hopes that this reaches the both of you. He doesn’t want nights of torment anymore. And he knows, he knows it is unfair for him to ask for forgiveness, for so much from you. But he needs to hear you to say that you forgive him. 

But he doesn’t. 

You sob silently across him and he feels that it’s hours before he decides that he should leave. He wants to stay but your cries have died down and only the moon sits by with the both of you. He should let you be. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have gone to see you. Maybe he is pressuring you too much. 

He stands to leave. 

“Stay.” You say.

He stops.

“Just stay with me for a while.”

He sits. 

“Just be here for a bit. I’ll probably still be mad at you tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, all the way until Friday where I’ll see you here again.” 

“And then I’ll be sad again before the cycle begins again.” 

He stays silent. 

“But I don’t want it to stay that way forever.” You say softly. The two of you sit there, with only each others’ breaths audible. He is trying to take in that you want things to change between the two of you. 

“And yet, I don’t know what I can change.”

You finally stand and he thinks that you’ve changed your mind. 

But then you say, “So I guess I’ll see you next Friday then.”

He looks at you with wide eyes and a small smile breaks out of him. 

“I’ll see you next Friday.” 

a/n: thank you so much for requesting again! i know that this one took a while but i'm off my break so i have less time! but i will still try to write a bit :( i also wanted to say please drop in the comments any thoughts you had about the fic! whether it's song recs you think fits well with this one, or who you imagined. i'd love to hear what you thought about it! hope to see you soon!

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Full Story : Availabe on Archive of Our Own

Story Content : 18+, Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Dom/Sub, Sadism/Masochism, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

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Chapters 2 - 8 : Mega Post

This post contains chapters 2-8 of You Got a Taste Now so that all chapters can be read on Tumblr as well as on Ao3. All future chapters will be posted as individual posts, but I do recommend reading these early chapters on Ao3 instead, as it's a lot easier to keep track of where you are that way. Link above!

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Chapter 2 - What the hell is happening?

Chapter title is lyrics from "Dear Diary"

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It was raining.

Of course it was, it had been raining all morning. This was England after all.

I was sitting under an awning on the balcony of the same hotel room from last night, waiting for everyone to wake up. Only six hours had passed since Oli went back to his room after what I fondly will refer to as ‘having his way with me’.

Six hours, and all I’d done since was clean the place up – poorly might I add, and had a shower to freshen up. Such simple tasks, so easy to sum up in one short sentence. But something very different was happening on the inside. My mind didn’t get a moment of rest, it was replaying the event over and over, picking it apart from every direction – catching up on the self psychoanalysis I was avoiding just six hours ago.

I shook my head.

Still just six hours, that can’t be right…

I reached for my phone to check the time once again, only 9 minutes had passed since I last checked.

The idea of sleep had felt offensive, so I hadn’t even considered it. Instead most of the time was spent pacing back and forth in my hotel room in my bathrobe, experiencing a myriad of confusing emotions and thoughts. So many unanswered questions were floating aimlessly in my mind. Was I into pain? No, surely not.. Maybe? But oh god it felt so good...

I had always considered myself fairly vanilla. In fact this was the first time I’d had sex that wasn’t in a bed. But I liked that, the bedroom was safe, relaxing, sweet and tender. It was.. great. And not at all boring. 

I've had great sex before… Right?

And then there were the serious thoughts, the ones that had been hard to touch on but I couldn’t help revisiting.

Such as; was this a form of self harm? Will I get addicted to this type of high?

Will every other form of sexual intimacy become meaningless in comparison?

My mind would rake through these harder, more painful thoughts, gingerly touching them like hot coals fresh from the fire, checking if they’d cooled down enough to examine them closer.

But they were still entirely too hard to process.

Then the insecure thoughts would creep in; why didn’t he tell me whether he wanted to do this again or not? Was it just a one time thing – or had I been disappointing in some way? God what a sad thought to have.

I wasn’t the most secure of people. Before this job I’d been quite shy, and the only reason I had even applied for this was because I desperately needed to get away from my life after I found out my ex had cheated. I’d been living with him since I was 20, I’m now 31. We were looking to buy a house, have kids... And then one day after my office job, I was cooking dinner, he’d left his phone on the counter and I saw the text pop up on his phone. ‘I miss you’ it read. Just three simple words that would end my life as I knew it.

I’d suspected it for years. He wasn’t home much, always out with the guys, and when he was around he barely paid me any attention.

I just wasn’t ready to face it.

After I’d moved back to my parents, a friend of mine suggested this job. She worked with the agency recently and could give me a shining recommendation if I felt like travelling and partying with rockstars. It was so far out of my comfort zone I just laughed it off at first, but something in me had been itching to break free and do something wild for as long as I could remember. So I did it, I applied – and she wasn’t lying about shining recommendations, they seemed thrilled to have me onboard so last minute.

But whenever I got an order wrong, or knocked over seemingly expensive equipment I always felt like an imposter, because the truth is that I’m a truly terrible assistant. And the only reason I was here was because my friend who has connections in the right places was worried I was wasting away.

No, let’s be real; she was worried I’d off myself any day now. 

I wasn’t that far gone, but I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind. And I’d be lying if I said it hadn't occurred to me that I was heading there. 

But everything changed when I started working for the band. They were such lovely and fun people, making even shy me want to break out of my shell a little bit – sometimes.

It had only been three weeks since I was brought onto the touring team, it was mostly me (Alice) and Liam, who had been doing this for years. Liam was a 40 something, flamboyant, kind hearted, and extremely patient soul, who was doing his very best to try and teach me the ropes. The first time I met him I knew we’d get along great. An unfortunate series of events had unfolded causing me to be half an hour late to the meeting with him and the agency. I’d woken up that morning to my mother screaming bloody murder at her cat cause he’d dragged in a bird and managed to sprinkle pieces of guts and feathers all over the living room, only to realise I’d turned off the alarm and was actually running so late I wouldn’t have time to do anything besides put on my clothes from the night before and potentially get a speeding ticket on my way there. I’d stumbled through the door, hair in a bird's nest, hiding my pizza stained shirt with an oversized coat. I was about to start running down the corridor to get to the front desk on the other side of some glass doors, when I heard a light yet demanding male voice behind me.

“Oi, hold up a minute, are you Alice?”

I hadn’t noticed him sitting next to the front door. He got up from his seat, absolutely towering over me. He was a skinny man, long blonde hair very similar to my own, clipped back on one side with a hair clip that shockingly read ‘die cunt’ in a cursive font – such an aggressive contrast from the sweet man, smiling from ear to ear before me.

“I was told you might be a bit late so I thought I’d wait for you..” He eyed me up and down and frowned, took a step back and folded his bare arms. One thing to note about Liam is that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him wearing anything with sleeves, usually this is a trait of someone who works out a lot, or has a lot of tattoos, but neither of these things were true about Liam. He just had a peculiar aversion to sleeves.

“Y-yes, I am so sorry I’m late, I-”

I don’t think he was listening to me cause suddenly he snapped his fingers like he’d figured something out, then wordlessly took the clip out of his hair and proceeded to push my hair back on one side with it, while sprucing up the other. “There! At least now the mess looks intentional.”

I took a look at myself in the reflection of the glass door behind him, and it did.

We never talked much about our feelings, but Liam always had my back. He could clearly tell I was a lost soul and very much out of my element. I hadn’t seen him in almost two days, he had given me a long list of instructions, including how to deal with the party from last night, then he’d taken the past two days off before we flew to America – which we were scheduled to do in just three short hours.

A pigeon landed on the balcony next to me, snapping me back to the current situation, and I checked my phone for the billionth time. To my dismay only 5 minutes had passed this time, so I slump forward with a groan, which scared the pigeon off.

I just wanted to get the awkward bit over with. I was almost certain everyone had heard me and Oli last night – maybe not Matt, he was particularly wasted.

The last instruction on the long list Liam had left me said “Don’t you fucking dare wake the lads until the last minute. They’ll be furious if you do and probably end up blaming me.”

So I waited.

Nowhere in the notes had he specified what to do if the lead singer bends you over and fucks you. It could have come in handy right about now because I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I wanted so badly to fast forward a day, after we’d all said our awkward good mornings, after the drive to the airport – and especially after having been stuck on a flight together for 8 hours. I just wanted to be tucked into my hotel room in Vegas already, finally relaxing, maybe even some sleep if my thoughts would allow me. 

Maybe I’d even have some answers from Oli at that point.

I heard the tap running from inside and my head snapped to glance through the glass doors of the balcony. I could see Matt standing by the sink, taking some form of tablet with a glass of tap water. I was surprised to see him be the first to wake up, considering his state last night.

After taking a deep breath to hype myself up to get this over with, I walk back into the common area of the suite.

“Heey Alice, just who I wanted to see. Any chance you could whip us up some coffee, my head’s bloody pounding”, Matt said, looking absolutely miserable.

“Morning, yeah of course, what do you want?” This was good, if we just focused on the job surely it wouldn’t be too awkward.

Walking into the kitchen area with a clear task in mind, I could now see the sitting area where the whole band was currently lounging, including Oli with his hoodie up, bent over his phone. Liam was also back, occupied by dragging luggage out of the rooms. He must have come back recently and woke everyone up. And I had been too lost in thought to even notice.

In my surprise at the turn of events, I’d completely missed what Matt had requested. 

“S-sorry Matt, what did you say?” I spoke sheepishly, shyness creeping in once I realised Oli was in the room.

“Just black for me.” Matt repeated, then Lee spoke up from the sofa, sounding chipper, “I’d go for some food myself.”

Lee was clearly the most sober last night, which was also evident by his mood today. He both sounded and looked well rested, unlike the rest of them.

Everyone spoke up with their orders, except Oli. He had yet to tear his attention away from his phone, typing furiously the whole time. Lee gave Oli’s arm a slap, “You don’t want anything Oli?”

“Nah mate, I’ll just eat on the flight.” He said, sounding completely unbothered, not looking away from his phone.

“Alright! All done with that bit.” Liam proclaimed after stacking the last piece of luggage near the door, while nearly sprinting in my direction, flaunting that big warm smile he so often wore.

“Alice, my sweet doll, you’ve done fantastic.” He proceeded to bend over and give me a hug. While looking over his shoulder I could see that the place appeared significantly cleaner than the state I’d left it in some hours ago. He really did have my back. Thank you, I mouthed at him as he pulled away.

The next hour was spent getting everyone's orders and loading up the van, then we were off to the airport. To my surprise there had been no awkwardness as of yet. No one had said anything out of the ordinary banter, and no one had treated me any different than the night before – besides Oli who had not made eye contact once, or spoken a word to me. 

To be perfectly fair I’d been avoiding him too. I just had no clue how to break the ice.

Liam decided he would drive the van to the airport because he was more familiar with this area than me, so I sat up front next to him. The whole band sat behind us in two rows, and this is when the ‘no awkwardness’ streak ended.

Oli had managed to sit in the only seat that was visible from my angle in the rear-view mirror, which meant if we both looked at the same time we’d lock eyes. The potential of that happening had me both exhilarated and panicked, which made me feel pathetic. Something so insignificant shouldn't affect me this much. I kept catching myself stealing glances, mentally whipping myself for the lack of discipline. Everytime I caught myself looking, he was just staring out the window, fairly expressionless. Such a stark contrast from all the passionate emotions on his face last night. The memory of them started playing in my mind like a filthy montage. Then my thoughts wandered back to how his hands felt on me, at one point I caught myself reaching for my throat as if to imagine his grasp still being there.

What the hell am I doing?

I straightened in my seat and tried to focus on something else, anything else.

I’d spent some time after my shower inspecting my neck, not knowing exactly how to cover the faint marks left there. I’d settled for a high collared dress, then right before leaving my room I’d added a scarf for good measure. I knew I’d have to take it off eventually. Sure, it was cold in London, but not in Vegas. Liam must have noticed something was up cause he kept glancing over at me with suspicion.

We were just a couple of minutes into the half hour drive to the airport, the rest of the guys had been chattering and joking with each other nonstop at this point when Mat (not to be confused with Matt) complained, “I’m so fucking tired though, maybe I can get some sleep on the plane. Was it you Lee that was railing some poor bird last night? I couldn’t sleep at all until you two were done, and frankly I was shocked to not see the whole place destroyed when I got up.”

My heart sank and I willed myself to not look at Oli’s reaction, even though everything in me was screaming to just have a quick peek.

Matt chimed in, “I just put in some earplugs, I’m so fucking tired of listening to Lee at this point.”

I could hear Lee laughing, “Wasn’t me mate, I was the last one awake but I bumped into Oli on his way back out as I was heading to bed. You got something to share with the group Oli?”

The whole band broke out in ooo’s and aaa’s and anyone who could reach started peppering Oli’s arm in teasing punches, as well as messing up his hair. This is when my concentration broke and I let myself look at Oli, he was smiling awkwardly at them, then he also stole a glance in the rearview mirror and we locked eyes for only a split second, but it was enough for me to choke on my spit and start coughing. Liam's reaction came swiftly and dramatically as his head snapped to mine, eyes wide, jaw dropped. Did you really? He mouthed at me in disbelief.

I shrugged sheepishly, looking apologetic. Liam just shook his head as his expression relaxed into an amused smile.

While Liam had instantly pieced the puzzle together, no one seemed to have noticed what was going on in the very front of the vehicle, as the band was still very much focused on Oli.

“Was it that ginger who kept flirting with ya last night?” Lee inquired, “She was something else, wasn’t she?” He added, in an almost dreamy tone.

“Fucking hell, stop it.” Oli laughed, swatting everyone's hands away. “I don’t kiss and tell lads, you should know that by now.” He sounded so amused, making an involuntary smile tug at my lips.

“You don’t kiss at all as far as I’m aware. I thought you’d gone celibate since She Who Shall Not Be Named left the picture.” Retorted Lee.

Mat scoffed, “Whoever it was man, I’m just happy you’re on the rebound. It was getting sad.”

Rebound.. Is that what it was? A pang of sadness washed over me. It shouldn’t make me feel anything at all, especially since technically this was a rebound for me as well. 

I knew that Oli was single, and I knew he’d been in a serious relationship. But from my knowledge that ended over a year ago. Has he really not been with anyone since, or was there someone more recent I didn’t know about from my quick google prior to taking this job?

The rest of the drive, and most of the flight Oli had continued being uncharacteristically quiet. He was usually clowning around with the rest of them, but whenever I dared steal another glance he appeared lost in thought, hints of sadness emitting from him.

It was clear that Liam wanted to talk about it but I’d gotten the impression that he was planning to wait until after since the quarters were so crammed. The small plane was split into two sections. One larger area that was mostly seating where most of the guys hung out, then a smaller area with a bar and cabinets for snacks, and just a couple of seats. For the first four hours of the trip Matt had been napping in the smaller area, but as soon as he evacuated Liam pulled me away to chat.

“Spill.” He demanded as he pulled me down into one of the seats next to him.

I instantly started blushing, “Honestly I don’t really know how it happened, he just sort of grabbed me and started touching me.” I spoke softly, afraid the words would travel despite how loud the plane was.

Liam looked very concerned, “Alice, do we need to call the agency? We can fly you back as soon as we get to Vegas if you-”

“Nonono,” I cut him off, waving my hands. “I understand the concern, but no I wanted it to happen.” I could feel the blush creeping in more and more.

Liam relaxed.

“It just happened really fast, and I still don’t have a clue what it means, or if it was just a one time thing.” I looked at Liam, questioning, as if I was hoping he’d have answers simply cause he’d worked with them longer.

“Oh love, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. All I know is that I haven’t seen him sleep around since I’ve worked with them the past year, but I don’t know what he does outside of tour-times. He was in a pretty serious relationship that I think messed him up a bit. But beyond that who knows, he’s a bit of a mystery-”, Liam cut himself off as we both spotted Oli walking through the doorway.

We locked eyes and I felt like a deer in headlights.

Had he heard us talking about him?

Liam's eyes darted back and forth between us, “right, I'm gonna leave you to it.” He proclaimed unceremoniously as he slapped his legs, got up, and slid past Oli out of the room. Liam wasn’t the most subtle of people.

And suddenly it was just me and Oli.

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Chapter 3 - Sticks and stones may break my bones

Chapter title is lyrics from "Ludens"

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Oli stood in the doorway for a second with his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his hoodie. He looked so shy. I knew he could be shy at times, I’d seen it with fans sometimes when we were out and about. But he had never been shy around me during the short interactions we had, just cocky and charming. I guess it was extra shocking to see after what we did last night. He walked over and sat down next to me, our legs brushed together for a split second, making him reposition. 

He regretted it. My mind was flooded with the thought; he regretted being with me, it wasn’t what he wanted and now he’s going to turn me down entirely.

At this point I was so nervous I felt like I was going to puke.

We were both facing straight ahead, sitting in uncomfortable silence. Oli’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he finally spoke, “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

The words were so solemn I dared to turn towards him, his eyes were fixed on the floor in front of us, hair draping his face. Apparently I wasn’t the only haunted one.

But anger was creeping in from every direction. I was so sleep deprived, so confused, and overwhelmed from all my revelations, and now the added knowledge of him regretting what we did was just entirely too painful. The last thing I wanted was to be denied the only thing that had made me feel alive in years, but I could feel the possibility of it ever happening again slip away as quickly as it came about. So I snapped at him, “I don’t know what I did wrong last night, but I can tell you’re regretting what we did, and quite frankly I think that’s bullshit.”

His eyes shot to mine, the intensity from last night flashed behind them. “Do you not understand that I enjoyed hurting you?” His voice was dark and serious, “Do you think I want to be this person, someone who just can’t control themselves. I barely know you, and you’re an employee for fuck sake.”

It was my turn to open and shut my mouth repeatedly, I felt dumbfounded.

His hand, covered in a blackout tattoo with an intricate pattern, appeared from his pocket and reached out for my scarf. He let two of his fingers – the same ones he’d had inside me just the night before – graze leisurely down from my jawline to my collarbone, revealing the marks on my neck to him. His vision followed the trail of his fingers. I was frozen in place, a longing shiver running down my spine, making me forget for a split second how mad I was. Meanwhile a confusing mix of fascination, sadness, and possibly hunger was playing across Oli’s face. He continued speaking as he pulled his hand away, “Alice.. You walk around looking as lost as I feel. If I don’t put a stop to it now, if I let this play out, I’ll destroy you.”

The anger was back, and I adjusted my scarf to cover the marks again, “I’m not some poor innocent lamb being dragged off for slaughter. I’m a grown woman, I can decide for myself what I want to do.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t really give a shit.” He shook his head and let out a frustrated laugh, “How exactly do you see this ending, love?”

“I-I don’t really know, but I do know that last night was the most alive I’ve felt in years.”

“That’s the problem though, innit? I felt the same way, and that scares me. I don’t know where it ends, I wanted to just keep hurting you – and not just physically – to make myself feel better, to make you feel better. Do you know what I mean?”

There it was again, the confusing mix of arousal and fear. I hated how he described it as some form of self harm – for both of us. I hadn’t been able to digest that thought for myself last night while pacing in the hotel room, let alone his reasons for wanting to do certain things to me. Frustration was boiling inside me, making me want to scream. I didn’t want to care about the implications, the possible outcomes, I just wanted to keep exploring it. Fucking finally; something that made me feel better. Something that released the ever-building pressure inside me.

I steadied myself and looked him square in the eye, “I don’t care, and I don’t want to care.”

Oli turned towards me and leaned in close, his serious expression mere inches from my face, “I care.” He relaxed back into his seat, looking down before continuing, speaking softly now, “I think you’re a lovely person, Alice. You’re shy but you’re like a ray of sunshine – everyone agrees. Liam’s fantastic, but let’s be honest, the guys much prefer when you’re around. So I feel like a right prick for last night.” He glanced over at me before continuing, “I don’t know much about you, but I know you’ve recently come out of a long term relationship,” How did he know that? Appearing nervous, he adjusted his hair, “And I’m sure you know I haven’t been with anyone since.. After me and her broke up.”

I felt my brows furrow, a bit thrown off from his intimate knowledge of me, as well as confusion regarding where he was going with this.

He pressed on, “I know how I felt when I found out she’d cheated on me, and if you’re feeling even a crumb of that betrayal, I know you’re not in the best head space right now.”

My brows relaxed, realisation hitting me, “I see..” I sat up a bit straighter. “You’re right, you don’t know much about me Oli. You have no clue what my life has been like, or what my relationship was like – and how do you even know he cheated-” I shook my head for even asking, it wasn’t important right now, “Don’t worry about it. I understand, you think you’re doing me some grand favour.”

“You can be as mad as you need to be, love. I should have just picked one of the groupies last night and spared you all of this. I’m furious with myself for having jeopardised you wanting to stay with us for the rest of the tour.”

I shot out of the chair, feeling too close to tears to keep listening to him. “I’m not leaving the touring team. I don’t just give up when things get a bit complicated.” I retorted, glaring down at him.

He stood up in front of me, looking down on me now instead. An amused smile playing on his lips in acknowledgment that my words had referred to him turning me down rather than my job situation, “I know what you’re trying to say love, but I’m just glad you’re sticking around.” I just glared at him in response. He inclined his head towards the doorway that led to the larger area where everyone else was currently hanging out, “I’m assuming Liam knows?”

“Yeah, he figured it out in the van.”

“Do you want to keep this just between the three of us?” There was pity in his eyes, making it unclear whether he was asking due to his own privacy – out of shame of his actions, or whether it was for my comfort.

“Sure, we can do that.” Regardless of his motives, I still didn’t want everyone to know. Especially not now when Oli had made it clear this was just a one time thing.

One time. Was that really all it was going to be? I couldn’t tell if it was more or less painful to have experienced such an emotional and sexual high, and to have it be ripped away, or to never have experienced it at all and continue living my life as a zombie.

We parted ways and the rest of the flight was spent avoiding each other. Thankfully the other band members were playing games which made it easy to focus on their silly shenanigans rather than feel the emotional despair in silence.

It wasn’t until I walked through the door of the hotel room in Vegas that I let myself break down. The tears came instantly, I didn’t even make it to the bed. Instead I just let my body collapse against the door and sobbed.

Everything came crashing down, and there was just pain. Pain from knowing I wont be manhandled by Oli again, pain from feeling so terribly rejected by both him and my ex – like there was something deeply wrong with me on a personal level. Something inherently broken and off-putting. 

Pain from having my life ripped away from me by some fucking loser who didn’t even know how to wipe his arse properly – made evident by the skidmarks I had to look at everytime I was doing the laundry. Why had I stayed with him? Why had I let myself become so… domesticated. I was just going through the motions of life, settling when it came to just about everything. My office job made me want to rip my hair out – but the pay was decent enough so I stayed. The flat we picked was not to my liking one bit – oh, but it was near his job so we took the lease anyway. 

Did I even want kids, or had I only wanted them because he wanted them?

And then there was pain from all the small ways my personality had been ripped away from me bit by bit over the years. I wanted to dye my hair, but he liked it blonde. In fact he didn’t like it much at all when I appeared anything besides sweet and palatable. I think that was part of why it had been so liberating to dress in a more revealing manner the past three weeks. I finally didn’t feel complete boredom when looking at myself in the mirror anymore.

I cried and I cried, until I was beyond exhausted.

And then I finally slept.

The next day can only be summed up as utter madness, but it was always like that on the day of a gig. There was simply too much to do at any given moment, not made better by the fact that I’d overslept again. Being the crying mess I was last night I had completely forgotten to set an alarm, instead I had been woken by a frantic Liam pounding on my door, rambling off the whole list of things we needed to get done as soon as I let him into my room.

I was very grateful he hadn’t pointed out how I had overslept. His room was right next to mine so he more than likely had heard my little break down, made evident by how extra patient he was being. He instead helped me get ready, and then we proceeded to do our whirlwind of tasks. Most of the day had been spent at the arena getting everything just right, and before I knew it there was only half an hour until it was Bring Me the Horizons turn to perform. 

I hadn’t seen any of the band members all day. Liam had repeatedly sent me off on little missions away from them – which again, I was grateful for. But I knew they had been backstage in the dressing rooms for many hours at this point, getting ready and warming up.

Walking down the corridor on my way to the stage area, I see the band filter out of the dressing room ahead of me. They’re laughing and chattering as they draw nearer, and Oli was holding a drink bottle. I had never seen him drink prior to a show before, only after. I gave it the benefit of a doubt, considering it could just be water, until they were walking up to me and noticed a slight flush on his cheeks, as well as his glassy eyes. He smiles lazily at me, making me look away out of awkwardness. The rest of the band paid me no attention as I rushed past them, knowing me and Liam were always too busy this close to a show.

A pang of worry hit me after they disappeared around the corner. 

Had our talk caused him to get drunk now? Was the show going to be a disaster because of it? Would it all be my fault? I shook my head, knowing my thoughts were nonsense. Oli was responsible for his own actions after all. Yet the anxiety remained.

I found Liam and we took our place standing to the side of the stage, mere moments before the show started. Everyone but the lead singer was already on stage, and I could see Oli’s silhouette in the distance to our right as he waited for his queue.

My heart was sinking further, so I pulled Liam's shoulder down so I could speak into his ear over the loudness around us “Oli’s been drinking.” Liam looked at me, then over to Oli, before speaking back into my ear, “It should be fine, he does that sometimes, just been a while.” For some reason I had a hard time believing him, but my worries melted away once he ran on stage. The whole set went perfectly, if anything he sang with more passion than usual. But I did notice less crowd interactions, something he was quite known for doing a fair bit of.

It was very hard to watch him tonight. Everything he did would elicit vivid memories from two nights ago, making me desperate to be back there with him again. He was down on his knees, bent over panting, exerted from singing and performing, and my whole body would recall how it felt when he was hovering over me, holding me down, wearing a similar expression to the one he wore now. I tried to shake off the memories but it was too late, my core was already throbbing in anticipation.

Delusion set in; hope even. That maybe – just maybe he wouldn’t be able to resist tonight. Maybe the drinking would make him give in and take me back to that high I craved so badly, the high that felt more vital than air at the moment.

The song ended and Oli started running off stage to do a quick wardrobe change, he was about to turn the corner and run right past me but he must have seen it on me; how horny I was. For just a split second when our eyes met, he shot me the most feral look I could imagine.

Right before their set was over I decided to leave. I didn’t want everyone else to notice how ridiculously horny I was, and I wasn’t sure what I would have done if he looked at me like that again. I’d probably make a complete fool of myself and just blatantly moan, or simply throw myself at him.

So for everyone involved, especially myself, it just seemed smarter to remove myself from the situation.

I was briskly walking down the corridor from the stage to where a row of rooms were, when I heard someone running up behind me. Due to how loud the arena still was, I hadn’t heard it until just a second before someone grabbed me, and threw me over their shoulder, promptly knocking the air out of me. I never got a chance to see who it was, but I knew it was Oli. He felt and smelled just like him. Adrenaline surged through my veins, and that hope I’d felt earlier grew stronger. He pulled us into one of the adjacent rooms and kicked the door shut behind us with his boot. In one motion he flung me off his shoulder and pinned me to the door, further rattling me, wrapping my legs around his waist.

None of the lights were on in this room, instead everything was painted in hues of green from the emergency exit lights. My heart was pounding, and our breaths mingled as my vision adjusted. He was slick with sweat as he pressed against me, eyes glowing like green flames in the darkness. His voice came ragged, “Is this what you want?” He proceeded to grab me by the throat, making me gasp for air. “You stupid whore..” Words spoken through clenched teeth. He tightened his grip and gave me a shake. Instinctively my hands scramble to attempt to pry him off me so I could breathe, but to no avail. I was officially scared, more so than the first time he choked me. But what scared me significantly more than my lack of air was the realisation that I didn't want him to stop. Thankfully after a moment he let go and I slumped onto his shoulder, inhaling sharply several times. But he didn't let me compose myself before he yanked me back into his view.

A sadistic laugh escaped him, his wicked smile filling my vision, “Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you..” His fingers grazed my throat with intent, trailing off into my cleavage. His voice darkened “Couldn’t stop thinking about how you taste, how you feel..” His hips ground against mine, and I could feel the heat between us despite our clothes, as the length of his cock pushed against my pussy. I whimpered painfully, my throat incredibly sore. Through the hunger, his tone turned serious, “Before talking to you yesterday, I can’t tell you how badly I wished you’d regretted it – that you wished I hadn’t fucked you. If I knew you wanted more, how was I supposed to resist? It just feels too good doesn’t it?” As he was talking his expression slowly changed to almost childlike wonder. With a depraved smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I nodded in response.

He mimicked my smile then kissed me passionately, similarly to the other night; but something was different, something I couldn’t quite put a finger on.

Our bodies moved together, trying to get closer. It didn’t seem to matter what we did, he just wasn’t close enough. So I reached between us to loosen his belt, but he grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the door behind me, pulling his mouth away from mine. “Fuck sake, love. Let me do this my way, that’s what you want innit, for me to have my way with you?” I didn’t get a chance to respond before his lips covered mine again. The hand on my wrist pried my fist open and intertwined our fingers, turning the moment increasingly intimate – something he shied away from the other night. 

A bewildering flurry of emotions bloomed in my chest; warmth, longing, sadness. It all came at once, intensified by him slowing our kiss to something deeper. Something just as powerful as the explosiveness from moments ago, but more akin to the roar of a bonfire.

My other hand freed itself from the tangles of his hair, and I let my fingers roam his face instead – an emotionally indulgent gesture that had him flinching the other night, seemingly welcomed tonight from the squeeze he gave my hand. His face was stubbly and so delightfully warm and slightly slick from the exertion of the show, making some of his hair stick to his temple. I imagined this is what he felt like after making love for a long time.

Making love.

Confusion crept in, not knowing how to interpret the situation, not knowing if this type of intimacy was something I wanted right now. Unlike the more aggressive activities which freed me from my internal pain, these tender ones were pulling on something very delicate, something that really didn’t want attention right now. 

I felt vulnerable, like an open wound – infinitely more powerless than when he was choking me.

Was I starting to panic?

That’s when Oli pulled away, resting his forehead against mine, leaving me to wonder if he was having a similar experience.

A heavy silence fell. Uncertainty of what’s to come filled the air, making it hard to breathe. Do we go back to doing delightful and depraved things to feel better, or do we continue down this unknown path he was leading us down?

He raised his head and our eyes locked. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw; the vulnerability, the fire, the sadness – the pain. I felt like I was falling backwards. He was looking right through me, and letting me see something in him I wasn’t sure he showed very often. He inhaled a ragged breath, then leaned in to continue kissing me. 

I thought I was scared before, but it paled in comparison to the fear I felt now. 

I can’t do this.

My hands shoved at him, my head twisting away from his lips, “No! Get off me!” I bit out as he stepped back. 

Tears stung behind my eyes as I struggled to land on my feet, then I tore the door open and ran.

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Chapter 4 - I can’t drown my demons

Chapter title is lyrics from "Can you feel my heart"

This chapter is from Oli's perspective.

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Something in me had been torn wide open, an old wound I thought had scarred over by now.

She had disappeared so quickly, leaving only the bright light from the corridor to flood me; a sobering and offensive spotlight, adding to the shock of having her ripped away from me so suddenly. My body felt like ice where she had been resting against me, warming me.

I wanted to run after her, beg her to forgive me for ruining everything, beg her to forget all about this, but my heart was breaking all over again. I looked down at my hands, watching them shake uncontrollably.

I needed to get my shit together, I couldn’t do this again. My eyes were burning when I decided to slam the door shut and lean against it to steady myself.

The rejection cut sharp and deep. I felt like some type of monster, like there was something incredibly unlovable about me. For some daft reason this was the time my heart decided to relax, and let myself be tender – just for a minute, and it sent her running. I scoffed at the realisation. She wasn’t scared of the passion; the darker side of it, no she wanted that a fair bit actually. But the heavier parts of me, the softer parts – that was the real monster.

I pushed off the door with a deep sigh and started pacing the small storage room in the dim green light, tears streaming down my face.

There had just been something about Alice, drawing me in like a magnet, bringing something out in me that I thought was either dead, or buried so deep I’d never see it again. And the mad bit was I couldn’t figure out why I liked some things about her. Everything she did was like witnessing a car crash miraculously be avoided at the last second. 

The first day she worked for us I remember her running down some stairs with our food orders. The tall stack of containers were leaning against her upper body, only kept stable by her chin. With every step they’d slide around, threatening to knock the entire tower over. Yet somehow she made it down with everything intact despite stumbling on the last step. I couldn’t tell if she was cursed or incredibly skilled to be honest. Although the order had been real scuffed, I’m not sure any of us got what we wanted, but we didn’t have the heart to tell the poor thing. So we ate it anyway. 

The moments that stuck in my mind the most were the ones where she thought no one was watching.

During one of the afterparties in her first week I’d seen her mixing drinks by a console in a dark corner across the room. She was doing a silly little dance to the music, her golden locks bouncing as she dropped a piece of lemon on the floor. A completely insignificant mistake, but she had stopped dead in her tracks, looked around, eyes wide as saucers to see if anyone had seen, then cheekily kicked it under the console. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Later that same night I saw Liam come in through some patio doors. The mad man had some type of vendetta against sleeves or something, cause why the fuck would you be outside like that in the middle of January?

I got up to catch him before he ran off again, “Hey Liam, you alright?”

He was clearly annoyed at having been interrupted doing whatever he was busy with, but he forced a smile, “I’m alright, what do you want?” He glared at me.

Liam was a blunt man, but I liked that about him. It was refreshing.

“What do you know about Alice?” I asked, trying not to look too sheepish.

He tilted his head, giving me a suspicious smile followed by a short pause as if he was contemplating whether to tell me anything at all, “Why are you asking?”

I looked away awkwardly, not knowing how to answer that, not knowing myself why I was so interested in her. He must have been satisfied with the reaction because he continued, “I know she’s freshly single, poor thing was also cheated on. So be kind to her, yeah?”

I nodded, “Yeah no worries man.” I was about to walk off, under the impression that he was done sharing, but he stopped me.

“You remember Shelley?” I nodded, she had just stopped working for us right before they brought on Alice, “Well Shelley put in a good word for her, it’s why she has this job. They’d been friends since childhood. Do you remember Shelley talking about her childhood friend from back home?”

The puzzle pieces started to fall in place. She was that Alice. The Alice that had allegedly set her ex’s car on fire when she found out he’d been cheating, the Alice who had been struggling with depression for as long as Shelley could remember, the Alice that Shelley had been calling everyday religiously, to make sure she hadn’t off’d herself after quitting her job and moving back to her parents.

Liam must have seen the realisation on my face, “Yeah she’s that Alice. So seriously Oli, be kind to her. She’s pretty fragile.”

Before that conversation I’d just had a fascination with watching her weird and charming behaviour, but now I couldn’t stop thinking about her. 

And it was making me feel like shit. 

It didn’t help that I made her so delightfully flustered. Every time I spoke a word to her she’d stutter, stumble, or blush. It was intoxicating. I just wanted to tease her.

But things got unbearable when we were in Dublin. We were staying at a smaller hotel and my room was right next to hers. I was laying in bed trying to drift off when I heard a soft moan. My eyes shot open and I listened carefully. Another moan. I quickly sat up in bed and pressed my ear to the wall behind me. There were so many small noises it nearly drove me insane, before I knew it I was rock solid. I started to imagine doing things to her, that I was the one making her sound like that. Every night since I’d get hard thinking about her little noises, letting my imagination roam wild with increasingly degenerate things I wanted to do to her.

And every day I would notice her clothes becoming more revealing, her eyes on me dripping with more and more lust when she thought no one could see her looking.

Every day I’d also catch her staring into space, obviously in deep pain.

Something about that spurred me on, made me want to do things to her. 

Liam’s words kept playing in my head over and over; be kind to her. And I agreed with that, she should get to heal and be surrounded by kindness. We all deserve that.

Then why did I want to humiliate her and call her names? Why was it that when I was alone at night, as cum was shooting onto my stomach, that my final thoughts would always be of her beautiful, freshly tortured face?

I tried to not overthink it, it was just fantasy, right? Just a fun thought to get off to. But then my mind would start to wander during the day as well, imagining things while watching her. That’s when I knew I had a problem.

It wasn’t until I grabbed her that night and fucked her that I realized the rough sex I wanted was actually to lessen the pain; for both of us. Was that healthy? I had no clue – probably not. Everything in my body had screamed at me to do it, like my subconscious knew exactly where to scratch the itch. I don’t know how I knew she had the same itch, I thought it might have been a deranged delusion until she’d confirmed it on the plane. Her pain had been a lighthouse in the night, but instead of steering clear of the warning, I’d headed right towards it.

It worked though. The morning after we had sex I felt lighter in some inexplicable way despite being guilt ridden and sleep deprived. And for the first time in over a year I was inspired to write lyrics. I was so wrapped up in writing on my phone that morning I hadn’t even noticed when Alice walked in from the balcony. Although the lyrics had been complete shit, but that was alright, it was part of the process. I just couldn’t believe I was writing again.

For some naive reason I had thought giving in, to let myself have her – just this once – would rid me of this obsession. So I could finally move on. 

When she made it clear she wanted more, I panicked. But while infuriating, and challenging, I still had my mind set on staying away from her.

I’m an idiot.

My boot hit something while pacing back and forth in the green light of the storage room Alice had left me in, jarring me back to the moment. I noticed I wasn’t shaking anymore and took a seat on the floor, leaning against the wall.

Tonight was different though, not like the first time. I don’t know if it was the exhaustion from the show, or just how impulsive I had been. Everything I told her on the plane I still believed, but something in me came undone when I saw how she was looking at me as I descended the stage. Suddenly her words from our conversation rattled in my head, sounding very convincing; ‘I don’t care, and I don’t want to care.’ 

I was so fed up with caring. I just wanted more of it – more of her. When I grabbed her tonight I felt so much frustration, so much anger with myself for not wanting to stay away anymore. Seeing the fear in her eyes as I choked her, even if it was just for a couple of seconds, made me feel such glee and satisfaction. I could have toyed with her all night.

But then she was wrapped around me, kissing me, caressing me with her delicate hands. She was so soft, so warm... A part of my heart that had long frozen over began to melt. 

I was scared, but I felt brave enough to explore it.

Instead I was immediately reminded of why I had let that part of me freeze in the first place.

Pulling my knees up, I let my elbows rest on them as I dragged my hands through my hair, pushing it out of my face.

My sadness turned bitter. I was expected to be on vocal rest tonight after the show, which I was pleased about. All I wanted to do was wallow in my self pity– alone. I got up to find Liam so he could arrange a ride to the hotel. He had clearly seen something was off about me, but thankfully not questioned it, and before I knew it I was standing in the hotel shower. 

As I was watching the water run down the drain I could feel myself slipping into a dangerously dark place of my mind. A place that had led me to drugs in the past.

I repeatedly tried to shake it off, but hours passed and I was still slipping.

Around two in the morning I decided to go down to the hotel bar, not so much to drink but rather to be around people, and to get a change of scenery. 

When the elevator doors opened to the bar area, my heart sank.

Alice was sitting at the bar on the other side of the room, a bit hunched over. I contemplated turning around, going back upstairs, but I knew what waited for me there, and I’d had enough of that. Instead I took a deep breath and started walking towards her. The closer I got the more obviously drunk she appeared. She must have been here a while. My own sadness got pushed aside, sympathy taking its place. 

“Alice?” I spoke gently, hoping not to startle her. Her hollow eyes turned towards me, barely meeting mine. She was far gone. 

I continued, “Maybe it’s time to head to bed, yeah?”

Thankfully there was no fight in her, she just nodded clumsily and slid off the seat. She would have fallen on her face if I hadn’t caught her. I propped her against me as we slowly stumbled out of the bar. Once we were in the elevator she collapsed further and I slid one arm under her legs while the other supported her back, then I picked her up. She nestled effortlessly into me. 

When we got up to my floor I realised I didn’t have a clue where her room was. I looked down at her pained face so close to mine, “Where’s your room, love?”

Her words came slurred, “You know I actually don't have a clue.”

I stood there staring at her for a long time, knowing my options and not liking them. I could either call Liam and let him know about her state, or take her back to my room.

Would she get fired if they knew she’d gotten this drunk during a tour? 

Without skipping a beat I started walking towards my room. She wasn’t exactly the best at her job, and I couldn’t bear the thought of her getting in trouble for something I’d been the cause of.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was unlikely she’d get fired, but I couldn’t risk it; couldn’t risk her not being around anymore. I wasn’t ready for that.

I laid her down on the bed. She cuddled into the pillow instinctively and mumbled something inaudible. All I could do was pull the cover on top of her. Meanwhile something pulled at my heart.

I had been so lonely for so long. I didn’t even know this woman, how could I possibly feel anything for her beyond attraction? I was just falling for the idea of her, because I related to her situation. Knowing I’d go insane if I didn’t ignore the feelings, I pushed them aside.

I went and got the bin from the bathroom – just in case, and placed it next to the bed. Then I relaxed into the chair across the bed, watching her.

What fucking mess had I gotten myself into.

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Chapter 5 - Cut me open and tell me what’s inside

Chapter title is lyrics from "Avalanche”

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I was swimming somewhere not quite conscious when I heard snoring – something I hadn’t heard since I was living with my ex. But it was softer, different from the one I had listened to for years. I pried my dry eyes open to make sense of it. It was like looking through a blurry lens from somewhere far, far away, but I could see Oli awkwardly tucked into an armchair across from me – fast asleep. The lights spilling in through the window from the Vegas nightlife, painting him in shades of pinks and blues. A fleeting image of his eyes in the green light flickered in my thoughts before I drifted off again.

The next time I woke up it was much brighter and my head was spinning. I pulled the cover higher to be rid of the assaulting light, wanting to melt back into slumber, but memories from last night had already started to trickle in. How I’d ran down that corridor, trying my best to keep the tears in before I found the ladies bathroom. When I finally locked myself in a stall, the tears had come instantly and violently. I was so tired of hurting, I just wanted an escape. But Oli had…

I shot up in bed – a grave mistake considering my current state – and gripped my head with both hands as if trying to prevent my brain from falling out.

Oli was here last night. In my room.I looked around carefully through squinting eyes.

Nevermind. 

This was not my room.

I quickly patted myself down to see if I was naked, but to my bewilderment I was still fully dressed in last night's attire. Before I got a chance to panic further about the situation, I heard the door open and shut, followed by Oli walking in holding some drinks. He didn’t even look in my direction as he walked over to shut the blinds before coming back around to wordlessly hand me a ginger ale. He gestured for me to move so he could sit at the end of the bed, so I scrambled to pull my legs up. It wasn’t until he was sitting that he allowed himself to look at me. His gaze was cold, unbothered, and his voice matched it, “Do you agree now that we shouldn’t keep doing this?”

I couldn’t think straight, clearly not sober yet from last night's escapades of vodka based drink selection. After a moment of just staring blankly at him, he looked down at the bottle in my hand and sighed deeply, “Drink up, it’ll help.”

I stared at the bottle, it was sweating on the duvet.

“Give it here, I’ll open it for you.” His voice was much softer now, clearly taking pity on my state. When he leaned over to take it off me our hands brushed, ever so slightly, but it was enough to make me feel a mix of the emotions from last night when he had laced our fingers together. Just much duller. 

The opened bottle was handed back to me and I downed half of its content in one go, not realising how thirsty I had been. Some of it ran down the side of my face, eliciting a chuckle from Oli, but he abruptly stopped himself, like he had realised his steely guard was faltering.

‘Do you agree now that we shouldn’t keep doing this?’

My brain was slowly catching up on the conversation, trying to process his question.

The problem was that, despite last night, I really didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to stop sneaking my indulgent glances at him, didn’t want to stop thinking about him at night, and I absolutely didn’t want to stop being manhandled by him. Not only was he an effective distraction throughout the day, but I wanted to feel that freedom again, something only he had managed to do for me. He had made me feel so incredibly alive.

Except last night, when he made me wish I was dead.

It was as if he had been a mirror, forcing me to look at the despair inside myself. The mangled mess left there to rot after having my path in life torn away, and my personality ripped to shreds. I didn’t have a clue who I really was, what I enjoyed, or what I wanted out of life. Just aimlessly taking it one day at a time.

I had gone to the bar last night to forget what I had seen in his eyes, but as I sat there attempting to drown my sorrow, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was as broken as me. I knew he had drug problems in the past, and I knew he had been cheated on. How much of that was still unresolved; how much did he still carry with him? Last night my curiosity had been out of sympathy, but today it was laced with anger. As if it was somehow his fault I'd been forced to feel these things, like he had made me look there.

Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t sobered up yet, or just stupidity, but I decided that I didn’t want to answer his question about us. Instead I wanted to return the favour and make him look at his own suffering.

I cleared my throat, yet the words came horse, “Tell me about her.”

Instantly I regretted asking. It felt so cruel, so callous.

“She was a cunt.” He proclaimed without a thought, spoken as casually as you’d talk about the weather, “That’s all anyone needs to know about her really.”

I blinked. Annoyed he hadn’t reacted the way I expected. Annoyed he hadn’t actually shared anything at all.

Alright let’s be cruel then.

“Who did she cheat with?”

“Old friend.” Hints of tension in his voice now.

“How did you find out?”

There was a slight pause this time, annoyance clearly setting in. “Why are you asking, Alice?”

“Did you start doing drugs again after you found out?”

His expression changed to anger and disbelief as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Why the fuck do you-” He started, but stopped himself to stare off in the distance for a short moment. When he continued he was completely calm, looking straight at me, “Yeah, I did.”

The thing in me that wanted to torment him unceremoniously deflated, and I could feel my expression soften.

He sucked his teeth before he continued, “I got out of that pit though, like I have many times in the past.”

There was something I had been wondering about since the first night he grabbed me, and I can only guess the alcohol still in my system let my intrusive thoughts win, because suddenly the question had slipped out of my mouth, “The night we had sex, is that what you were talking about when you said you wanted to throw everything away?”

He looked away, clearly uncomfortable, “I mean yeah, I thought that had been obvious. My history with ketamine isn’t exactly a secret, I’ve talked about it plenty. Didn’t you google us before the tour?”

“I did, but I thought you hadn’t touched drugs in years.” I said, hoping he’d confirm or deny it.

Still clearly uncomfortable, he responded, “I’ve been off the stuff since after the breakup, so about a year. That was the only relapse in a long time though.”

Crap, I could feel another question coming, “So… why had you almost relapsed the night we had sex?” I felt guilty for asking, knowing I shouldn’t probe; knowing I had gone too far about five questions ago. 

That caused him to immediately push off the bed, “You know what Alice, maybe it’s time to get you back to your room.”

A fair reaction – and I agreed – but when I shifted to get out of bed everything was spinning from having moved too fast, and I could feel myself falling forward. Oli was there in a heartbeat and pushed me back into a sitting position over the side of the bed, the sudden motion threatening to make me hurl.

Annoyance emanated from him, “Bloody hell, you’ve got to stop doing that.” He said, crouching down next to the bed, still holding me up by the shoulders. His face was too close to mine, his scent surrounding me. The way he smelled was triggering something in me, something I didn’t quite understand, like so many other things I couldn’t figure out – or wanted to think about. Then suddenly I became aware that I probably looked insane, and possibly smelled even worse. 

‘Maybe it’s time to get you back to your room.’ his words rang in my ears as I fought off the nausea. I turned my head slightly out of embarrassment before I spoke, “Why am I in your room anyway?”

“Cause someone decided getting shitfaced on tour was a good idea.”

While his words may have been passive aggressive, his tone was sweet. A pang of regret hit me. This wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to hurt him. I wasn’t the only one in pain, and I felt so incredibly selfish for all of it. For the probing, for wanting to continue being used when he had specifically told me it wasn’t who he wanted to be. 

For running away last night when it had gotten hard. 

My own words now ringing in my head; I don’t just give up when things get a bit complicated.

How ironic.

I spoke softly out of shame, “I-I'm sorry Oli. I just didn’t want to feel like this anymore.”

A frown grew on his face, ”Nothing to worry about, I mean sure you’re being a bit of a bitch, aren’t you? But you're not in some type of trouble, I won’t tell Liam how drunk you got if that’s what you're thinking.”

I didn’t want to cry, but I could feel my eyes starting to burn as I spoke, “No, it’s not that… I'm sorry for running away last night.”

He was clearly caught off guard, sadness – hurt even – painted across his features. Slowly he released the grip on my shoulders, testing to see if I could remain upright. When he was happy I wouldn’t collapse, he leaned back, still crouching before me as I continued, 

“It was just too much, I felt so- didn’t know how to, or even begin to-” My vision was blurred with tears as I heard the frantic nonsense escape my mouth.

What was I doing?

His hands were back on me, on my arms this time, “Hey, sh-sh-sh, Alice, it’s alright, there’s no need for that.” But my tears turned to uncontrollable sobs.

“Ah, fuck.” He muttered as he pulled me down into his lap to sit on the floor, my legs wrapped around him, and his arms around me. I had wanted to wait till I was alone to cry again, but I was too drained – too overwhelmed, so I let myself be held as I cried into his hair.

It wasn’t until he held me tighter that I realised he was crying too.

A long time passed, and every time I thought I was done I started back up again. A dam had burst inside me and so many feelings were melting into tears, pouring out of me as I held onto Oli like a lifeline. I cried over the maddening numbness of wasting my life in mundane hell, I cried for the years worth of isolation, I cried over the frustration of last night not going the way I needed it to, I cried over the disgust I felt with myself for having let any of this happen in the first place. And then I cried for all the pain and confusion inside me I couldn’t put into words.

His tears came to an end before mine, so he lazily caressed my back as I wept. When the floodgates finally closed we were left just sitting there, embracing each other in silence. The thought of pulling away to face him after this was nerve wracking, but I knew it had to happen. 

So I wiped at my mess of a face with my sleeve, then took several deep breaths to gather myself before leaning back against the bed behind me. 

Oli’s eyes were red and slightly puffy, and he spoke without skipping a beat, as if he had been waiting for me, “I thought she was my soulmate.” A sombre smile tugged at his lips, “I know it sounds daft but I really did believe that.”

I wanted to tell him I didn’t think it sounded daft, but I was stunned, not expecting such personal details.

He huffed out a bitter laugh, “Problem is, once you really believe in something eternal like that, but it turns out to be some cosmic prank – what do you do with that? Everything in life lost its purpose, there was no point to anything anymore.” Looking down, shaking his head, he continued, “If I could have been that sure about something, knowing it to be as real as anything else on this planet, how was I supposed to trust my gut again?”

I didn’t have any answers for him, but I knew he wasn’t expecting any. Instead I decided to answer his question from earlier.

“I don’t want to stop what we’re doing.”

He looked up at me through his hair, “Even after what happened last night?”

There was a slight internal battle, but I was so worn down, and I knew it was my turn to share. I looked away before I spoke, “My breakup wasn’t the same as yours. I wasn’t blindsided, I think I knew for a long time that he’d been cheating on me, and I knew he wasn’t my soulmate.. He was barely a friend.” I could only describe it as an outer body experience to hear these things come from my mouth; things I didn’t even like to think about.

When I looked back at him, his head was tilted to the side in bewilderment, “Then why are you hurting so much?”

I sighed deeply, “Because for the past eleven years I had let myself become a version of myself I thought was expected of me, and now I am nothing at all because of it. Just empty, with no interests or passions.”

He shook his head again, “That explains the hurt, but the rest isn’t true, is it?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely curious.

There was a pause as he scanned my face, contemplating, “From my experience, people who say they feel empty are usually the ones bursting at the seams with something. Maybe something they’re ashamed of or just repressed for whatever reason.” He leaned in a bit closer, that playful smile looking back at me, “Honestly love, you seem pretty passionate to me. Why else would you choose to be choked by a rockstar with drug problems, instead of just getting a new hobby or something – a bit extreme innit?”

Heat crept up my cheeks, and I could feel a smile play on my lips.

I couldn't tell if what he said carried any truth for me personally or not. Sure, it sounded plausible enough, but how would I know? There was such a mess inside me I didn’t know where to begin to untangle it. But a little bit of hope fluttered in my chest, like maybe I wasn’t a completely lost cause after all.

I heard the faint ding of the elevator from the hotel corridor, and I was abruptly reminded that the road trip portion of the tour starts today, and I was expected to prep the tour bus with Liam as soon as it arrives around noon.

I straightened with a jolt, eyes widening, “What time is it!?”

My jolt had clearly jarred him, “I haven’t a clue, around one maybe?”

I started to push myself off him, feeling panicked, but stopped myself when I remembered what happened last time I tried to move too quickly, “Can you help me up? I need to get ready for work.” I asked, looking sheepish.

“Sure”, he helped me up slowly and I made my way to the door, but there was one last question still rattling inside my head, clawing to get out. “Hey Oli,” I looked back at him standing next to the bed.

“Yeah?”

I knew this was a bad idea, but it had left my lips before I had a chance to think it through, “Do you want to keep doing this?” I swallowed, “As in, doing things to me.”

He shifted awkwardly, eyes falling to the floor. Disappointment washed over me at his reaction to the loaded question.

The tone of his voice shifted into something much more intense, “More than you know, Alice. But I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

The disappointment melted away, quickly replaced by the fighting spirit in me that still wasn’t willing to let the one thing I was passionate about slip away. “Because you can’t trust your gut?”

He grinned at my question, but it died on his lips as he spoke, “Because I’m not sure it’s for the right reasons.”

His words sprouted so many follow-up questions; so many arguments. Realising this could turn into a lengthy conversation – and I was very much out of time – I decided to cut things short with a simple few words that would hopefully work in my favour.

I pushed the door handle down, “I’ll be skipping the underwear from now on.” When I opened the door – a clear indication that the conversation was over – his eyes darkened, violence behind his stare.

I couldn’t help but smile as I left.

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Chapter 6 - That’s all the time we have this week

Chapter title is lyrics from "MANTRA"

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The world was testing me, clearly trying to see where my breaking point was.

About two hours had passed since I left Oli in his hotel room, and I hadn’t sat down since. On a normal day that would have been fine, but considering I was just now starting to sober up, combined with Liam having me work at double speed due to being late again, it was unusually brutal.

A few times I had to lean against the bus for a moment to catch my breath after dragging luggage, various drinks, snacks, bedding, equipment, and whatever random things the band had decided to bring onto the vehicle. It wasn’t made better by the fact that this was a double decker, meaning many of the heavier items needed to be carried up the cramped bus stairs; where the sleeping bunks were located. The lower tier was mostly seating, with some tables, a small sink, and a toilet in the back next to the stairs.

When we were finally done setting everything up and making the beds, we collapsed on the larger sofa in the seating area. Liam sighed deeply and looked at his watch, “Alright, we did it. We even have some time to spare. Fucking miraculous.”

I raised my arms in celebration, but immediately dropped them again, entirely too tired to keep them there.

We had been sitting in comfortable silence for a while when I let myself sink into the sofa further, closing my eyes, in heaven from being off my feet. That’s when Liam, out of nowhere, decided to ask, “Did you have sex with Oli last night?”

My eyes shot open to stare up at him in shock. He never asked me any personal questions, and I had thought our conversation on the plane was a one time deal of getting personal. He smiled when I didn’t answer, “You did, didn’t you?”

I sat up straight and positioned myself to face him, “Actually, no. We didn’t do much.”

His expression turned to confusion, “But you spent the night with him?”

I scratched my head, not knowing how to explain the bizarre series of events; not knowing if I even wanted to share them with Liam, “I-I guess? It’s a bit… complicated.”

He shot me a teasing smile, “Do you like him?”

I blushed, not knowing how to answer that question either.

“Sorry love, I don’t mean to interrogate you. I just couldn’t help but notice you weren't in your hotel room this morning when I went to wake you up.” 

Guilt hit me for having been late so much at this point, “I’m really sorry about that, I swear I’ll get better at-”

Clearly uninterested in my apology, he cut me off, ”So I may not have been completely honest with you when I said I didn't know anything about Oli’s intentions.” He said, looking guilty himself, “It might mean nothing at all, but I have seen him looking at you Alice, and I don’t just mean in that lusty way you stare at him all the time.” 

My blush deepened, I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me. I didn’t realise I had been that obvious.

He held his hands up, “Like I said, it might be nothing. But he’s positively beaming when he looks at you sometimes. And while you do with that information as you wish, can I ask you a favour?”

I felt dumbfounded but curious, “Of course, what?”

“I can’t help but notice you haven’t looked at him that same way. So if you’re gonna break the poor man's heart, please do it gently, yeah? He’s clearly been through hell and back.”

In all honesty I didn’t know how I felt about Oli, I was entirely too wrapped up in how he made me feel. But besides our conversation this morning, we barely knew each other. How could he possibly feel anything for me? Surely Liam had misinterpreted the situation, right?

Right?

My mind wasn’t allowed to process Liams questions any further before we could hear the band members outside, and suddenly Lee burst through the door, taking long strides to get upstairs. Mat was right on his heels and disappeared up the steps behind Lee.

“Good morning to you too, lads!” Liam yelled up to them. 

Earlier Liam had explained that Lee and Mat would always fight over the best bunk, having apparently resulted in a handful of injuries in the past.

I heard more footsteps outside, and out of habit I fixed my hair in anticipation of seeing Oli, making Liam chuckle next to me. I glared at him but he just gave me a knowing smile, so I gave him a well-deserved jab with my elbow.

Matt was next (again, not to be confused with Mat), he strolled in casually while hugging a pillow, shaking his head, “Will they ever stop doing that? Who cares what bunk you get, they’re all the same when you’re in them.”

You could hear Mat and Lee arguing faintly upstairs, then the bus was shaking slightly from their brawl, mixed in with some yelping noises every so often.

Then Oli stepped onto the bus while responding to Matt, “I vote we let them fight it out, personally. They’re like toddlers, let them get some energy out so we can have a nice trip.”

Then everyone took their seats, and to my surprise I watched as Oli took the chair right across from me, on the other side of the walkway. He let his eyes roam my body for a moment – never actually meeting my eyes – before looking away.

Liam inclined his head towards Matt’s pillow in confusion, “You know we brought pillows, right?”

“Yeah but last night I slept better than I’ve done in years, I couldn’t just leave this puppy behind.” He said, slapping his pillow, looking down at it as if it was his most precious possession.

Oli laughed, “You stole the pillow, mate? I thought those days were behind us.”

Matt’s face lit up, “Remember when we walked out carrying a whole mattress? I still can’t believe they didn’t even try to stop us.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures as they say,” Oli looked over to Liam to explain further, “We didn’t have enough bunks on the cheap tour bus we could afford back then, you see. So we got creative.” He said, tapping his finger to his temple.

The conversation went on but I couldn’t focus on what was being said, getting too distracted looking at Oli.

He was wearing the same plain black t-shirt from earlier with some grey shorts. I hadn’t taken much note of his appearance at the time due to my state, and how emotional everything had gotten. While all of us were dressed in more casual attire than usual – both because this was the beginning of the road trip, but also because Vegas was quite warm compared to what we were used to in the UK this time of the year – it was such a stark contrast from what Oli usually wore. Seeing him this dressed down, without any of his usual loud accessories, prints or colours, really accentuated him. Elaborate inkwork cascading down every limb, up his neck, around his face. All of which made so much sense with his usual attire, everything coming together as one cohesive design. Now it threatened to look out of place next to the plain clothes, with his gentle eyes, boyish smile, and messy hair.

Somehow both of these versions worked entirely too well. And I found myself wondering if there was anything this man couldn't pull off. I also found myself wondering what some of the designs on his thighs looked like higher up. As my mind tried to imagine it, I realised that while I had felt his dick inside me, I hadn’t actually seen it.

I must have unknowingly let my eyes rest on his crotch area for a long time while I was daydreaming, because out of nowhere Oli shot me a piercing glance without turning his head, making me straighten on the sofa, tucking my hair behind my ear awkwardly.

“Shall we get going then?” Liam asked, saving me from further embarrassment.

This was also the day I learned that Liam used to be a bus driver when he was younger, which was apparently a big reason the touring agency had wanted him.

Hours passed on the long journey and I had managed to keep my thoughts in check for the most of it. The daylight had faded into darkness when Liam pulled into a Walmart car park for a short break. 

“Alright lads, you have around 30 minutes before the store shuts. Go, go, go!” He proclaimed after parking up, hurrying himself to get off the bus. Everyone scurried to get out to grab the variety of things they had been planning during the past hours.

Everyone except Oli, who was looking right at me. His arms were crossed, one of his legs propped up on the other.

We sat in silence until no one could be heard in the distance.

When all we could hear from the calm night was distant cars, he spoke, “Are you wearing any underwear?”

I swallowed, feeling increasingly nervous, “No.”

His arms relaxed onto the armrests, and his eyes darkened – along with his voice, “Show me.” 

Not a question; a command.

I could feel the heat spread throughout my body, continuing up my cheeks. I was wearing a simple black mini skirt and an oversized tour shirt. With a nervous exhale, knowing someone could come back at any moment – knowing the bus door is still open, I decided to obey his command. My heartbeat fell to my core as I leaned back and spread my legs, raising them up to let my feet rest next to me on the sofa, giving him a clear view of my more-than-likely soaking pussy from having been wrapped up in dirty thoughts about him all day.

His propped leg dropped to the floor with a deep sigh, and he let his hand play on his chin. The carnal gaze shifted between awe and something barely contained, as he let himself leisurely take in the sight of me. 

That’s when I noticed his bulge shifting – growing, causing my breath to hitch.

The noise got his attention, and his expression turned intense and his serious eyes shot to mine, “Touch yourself.”

Another command.

I wordlessly reached between my legs to do as I was told. I was in fact soaking, and the wetness made a noise that caused the now clear outline in his shorts – pulling slightly to the right might I add – to twinge in response.

His lips parted slightly, letting his fingers brush them as he appeared almost intoxicated.

I was pushing at my entrance to elicit more wet noises, so I could see that delightful twinge again when he spoke, “No, play with your clit, love.” His eyes transfixed on my pussy now.

Stopping my motion, I went back up to my clit, rubbing it slowly in small circles. After a moment a whimper spilled from my mouth as it started to feel particularly good. That wicked smile bloomed on his lips, his eyes still not leaving my pussy, “That’s it, a bit faster now.”

Once again I obeyed. My breath came heavier, and adrenaline was hitting me as I realised I would cum if I kept going like this long enough, causing my eyes to dart towards the bus door nervously.

He caught me looking and abruptly leaned forward, shooting me daggers as he let his arms rest on his legs, “Look at me.” He said. Demanding words, sharp with anger.

My wide eyes met his, “Don’t worry about that,” he said, gesturing towards the open door, “Just keep looking at me.”

A breathy “Okay.” left me, as I continued to build my orgasm, followed by another small whimper.

With a tilted head, his dark eyes roamed my face, and I watched as that corrupt smile continuously tugged at his lips. “I’ve thought about what you look like when you touch yourself so many times now, I had to see it for myself.” His gaze darted to my pussy before returning to look at me. He continued speaking, tone growing increasingly intense, “You’re fucking stunning.”

Small breathy moans start spilling from my open mouth, causing Oli’s own breathing to grow heavier as he pressed on, sounding nearly demonic now, “You’re a fucking whore for doing this, you know that right?” 

His words just encouraged me, setting something in me ablaze – getting me closer to my goal. 

He huffed out a breathy laugh, looking like he’s about to snap; like he’s also close to going over some kind of edge. He carried on in the same dangerous voice, “I want to push you to your fucking limit, Alice. I want to see your makeup run down your pretty little face as I make you choke on my cock, testing how long you can hold your breath for me.”

I was shaking, feeling my orgasm building, and building.

He let out a ragged breath, “You close, love?”

I nodded through my whimpers.

He shot out of his chair and was suddenly over me, one of his hands slipping behind my neck, gripping my nape firmly to keep me looking at him, our breaths mingling with his face hovering mere inches from mine. His other hand disappeared between my legs, his middle and ring fingers slipping into me, going straight for the g spot. 

My whole body went electric.

“Cum for me.” He demanded with a softness the other commands had lacked.

I went over the edge, my free hand grabbing his arm as my eyes rolled back. Through the sounds spilling out of me I could hear him murmur words of encouragement, “That’s it love, that’s it… Fuck.”

As I came back down his eyes were on fire, appearing drunk with lust. “You’re such a good whore.” He whispered, a devil's smile growing on his lips as his fingers started moving in me again. “Keep going, Alice. Cum for me again.”

My hand started moving again, but as soon as it did we heard distant chatter.

Oli leaned back, head snapping towards the open door, then back at me with violence behind his eyes – clearly frustrated to have his playtime cut short.

He pulled his fingers out of me and fell back into his chair, propping his leg back up on his knee to conceal his otherwise very obvious erection.

As I hurried to pull my skirt down to cover myself up, I looked up to meet his fiery gaze staring back at me, his fingers in his mouth – the same two fingers I just came on – sucking them dry as his chest rose and fell with his still laboured breathing.

I felt panic grow inside me, knowing I wouldn’t be able to appear normal; knowing I was too far gone, I got up and ran to the toilet, locking myself in there before anyone could see me.

My reflection in the mirror confirmed my fear. My hair was a mess, my face was flushed, and my eyes appeared as glazed with lust as Oli’s had.

There was no doubt in my mind that if we kept going like this it was only a matter of time before everyone found out about us.

…Only a matter of time before I found out if Oli actually had feelings for me or not.

Before I had to figure out how I felt about him.

I swallowed, spiralling further into panic.

What the hell was I doing?

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Chapter 7 - My heart’s a hieroglyph, it talks in tongues

Chapter title is lyrics from "Run”

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Get yourself together Alice.

But the woman staring back at me in the stupid little mirror just continued looking panicked and flustered.

I should be happy. I should be over the moon. When I left Oli in his hotel room this morning, informing him I wouldn’t be wearing any underwear going forward, my hope was that he’d eventually give in to temptation. Not realising he’d pounce the very second he could. Regardless of the risk. 

How could I have known it would be that effective? 

Sure, maybe I should have been able to put two and two together after he proceeded to throw me over his shoulder and manhandle me, just one day after very adamantly arguing what a bad idea more sex would be.

‘Because I’m not sure it’s for the right reasons.’ His words echoed in my mind. And while I didn’t want to agree with him – while I didn’t want to even entertain the idea – I had to admit the same thoughts had occurred to me once or twice as well, but I’d swatted them away like flies at a picnic.

Frustration was building. What if Liam was right? What if Oli was interested in me, and what if he eventually wanted something more? A big part of me thought it was absurd, he barely knows me. But I still couldn’t help but toss the idea around, examining it from every angle. It would explain why our time together in the storage room turned so incredibly intimate out of nowhere – and why would he bring me back to his room when I was blackout drunk, just to take care of me?

No, that was a ridiculous thought to have. Any decent human being would take care of someone in need, and the intimate moment could happen to anyone – it doesn’t mean anything.

I could see the panic grow on my features.

While it probably meant nothing, I knew that if there was even a sliver of a chance Liam was right, I had to figure out what the hell I was doing here as soon as possible.

Despite this being a truly horrible time to do this, I couldn’t resist touching on those painful thoughts I’d been ignoring the past couple of days, knowing that if I didn’t take advantage of my current panicked state, I’d never want to revisit them again.

I leaned forwards, placing my hands on the sink in the small tour bus toilet, and gave myself the steeliest stare I could muster up.

Why – The Fuck – do you like to be used, choked, and called a whore?

While I tried to answer my own question, images of Oli’s delightful expressions when he did these things to me flooded my mind, making my knees weak, and my stern face melted into a flustered smile. It didn’t help that I just had an orgasm, and wouldn’t mind a couple more.

Out of pure stubbornness, I slapped myself and decided to fight through it.

Alice – you horny piece of shit – why do you like it so much?

What does it actually make me feel, what do I get out of it? Is it the loss of control, the freedom? Sure, but while that explains part of it, I knew there was a lot more to it.

I felt shame flood me, fighting me, making me want to stop going down this path.

Was Oli right, was it some type of self harm? There was a part of that thought that scared me, but I couldn’t help but feel like the shoe didn’t quite fit.

I shook my head, knowing I was getting nowhere. I was ready to move on to the next question when I noticed the bite mark on my neck slightly poking through my concealer, further reminding me that it was only a matter of time before everyone would find out about us at this rate, further spiralling me into panic.

Okay, seriously – focus. Do you like him?

I sighed deeply. How do I feel about Oliver Sykes besides finding him incredibly attractive? I know I like how passionate he is, not just sexually, but with all his projects. I know I like how funny and charming he can be. I know I like the way I feel when he’s around me, regardless of what's going on. I couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but he made me feel some type of way – the same way I felt when I could smell him.

Discomfort was starting to creep in as I realised it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to spend more time with him, maybe get to know him better. As if just the idea of it becoming something else, something more, struck fear in some tender part of me that just wanted to run away and hide.

I found myself hoping that Liam was wrong with his observation, because at least then I could keep enjoying my time with Oli without anyone getting their feelings hurt. If anyone else found out about us it wouldn’t be a big deal – lots of people casually hook up.

The woman looking back at me in the mirror looked sad and defeated, but all signs of panic and fluster had left her.

Knowing I wasn’t getting anywhere, I took one last deep breath and got myself ready to leave the bathroom.

Everyone was back when I stepped out, and Liam had just gotten back into the driver's seat, ready to keep going. I awkwardly sat back down across from Oli, who was on his phone, casually eating some oreos the guys had picked up, as if nothing had just happened between us.

Right as I picked up my own phone to distract myself, Oli looked up at me through his messy hair and shot me a warm smile before putting another oreo in his mouth. The warmth of it caused something in my chest to heat up in response, shocking me so severely I fumbled and sent my phone tumbling onto the floor next to his feet.

You could tell he stifled a laugh. With his mouth full of oreo, he bent over to collect my phone and hand it back to me. Thankfully no one else paid any mind to my awkwardness, as they were too busy having a heated argument about amp models. But I felt like a ridiculous school girl getting flustered by some pretty boy. It made so much more sense to me to get flustered by the man before we had sex. Now it came with some implication that I wasn’t ready for.

The rest of the trip was an exhausting mix of awkwardness and confusion, made worse when the conversation died down from everyone getting tired, leaving me to my thoughts more than I had liked. Leaving me and Oli to accidentally lock eyes more often than I was comfortable with, knowing it meant we both couldn’t keep each other out of our minds.

It was 3 am when Liam pulled up to the hotel we were staying the next two nights.

Everyone filtered out of the bus like zombies, carrying our bare essentials for the rest of the night. We were all on the same floor of the hotel, so when the elevator doors opened I headed straight for my room, forcing myself to not look back to see where Oli was. 

I heard a bunch of doors open and close as I tried to get the card for my room to work. With every swipe I was internally praying it would unlock, and after every failed swipe I had to fight myself to look back to check if he was there.

With a click the door finally unlocked, but for some inexplicitly stupid reason I allowed myself to look back. 

He was standing all the way down the corridor by his door. He swung it open and waved for me to come over before he stepped inside.

I froze.

Why did I have to look back? It could have been so simple. I could be having hours of uncomplicated sleep ahead of me, but now there was some unknown abyss waiting for me down the hall. Would we have amazing sex, or a conversation I wasn’t ready for? Spin the bloody wheel.

Knowing I couldn’t resist either way, I locked my door and headed towards the unknown on the other side of the corridor.

I shuffled past him awkwardly while he held the door open, then dropped my bag on the floor before sitting down on the end of the bed, not knowing what to expect next. He locked the door and came over to sit next to me.

He leaned forward, facing away from me as he spoke, “Listen love, I clearly can’t keep my hands to myself, and while I’m aware that is exactly what you want, I’m struggling with it a fair bit. I feel like I’m at your mercy here.” I could feel myself becoming claustrophobic as he continued, “I had every intention to have an actual conversation with you when we were alone on the bus, but that went out the window as soon as I saw the way you looked at me.”

I shifted awkwardly, wanting to run away.

“I know you barely know me Alice, but can I ask you something?” He tilted his head in my direction and searched my face, questioning, “Do you trust me?”

I was stunned, not knowing what I had expected, but that wasn’t it. It must have shown on my face as he looked surprised back at me. I opened my mouth, “What do you mean?”

It was his turn to shift awkwardly, his voice dipping a bit lower as he spoke, “When I choke you, do you trust I won’t just choke you out?”

I didn’t have to think about it, I could feel it in my gut, “Yes.”

He huffed out a small laugh before turning his body towards me, “And why is that exactly?”

I frowned, “I don’t know, but I don’t think you’d actually harm me.”

His head tilted to the side, bewilderment spreading across his features, “All I’ve told you is how I don’t feel like I can control myself around you, how I want to hurt you might I add, and you’re telling me you don’t think I’ll harm you? Are you stupid or something?”

I scoffed, “Maybe, but there’s never been anything wrong with my intuition. Like I said, I knew my ex was cheating, I knew my past life wasn’t for me. So if my gut is telling me I can trust you, I am pretty sure I can.”

He shook his head, “That is a pretty big leap of faith you’re taking there, innit?”

I paused, contemplating his words, “If I’ve learnt anything from the past 11 years, it’s that not taking any risk at all is probably the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done.” I looked down at my hands in my lap, playing with the hem of my skirt anxiously as we sat in silence after my response. I knew he had a problem trusting his own intuition after what happened with his ex, so I couldn’t help but worry that my remark could’ve been interpreted as a jab, despite not intending it to. 

I was about to clarify when he spoke, his tone had grown much more serious, and his words came slower, “When I choked you the other night in the arena, it didn’t look like you wanted me to stop. If there’s any truth to that, what exactly is it you’re looking for here?”

Of course he had noticed, is there anything this man doesn’t pick up on?

Shame was simmering somewhere under the surface, but something came bubbling up from beneath it, “I…” the words spilled out of me as I realised them, “I don’t want to die if that’s what you’re thinking – at least I don’t think I do. I’ve just been living my life in such lukewarm temperatures, too scared to experience anything to the fullest, never feeling something real. I just want to let go and have someone fly me closer to the sun, someone that won’t burn me. Someone I…”

Oli was watching me closely as I spoke my thoughts out loud, “Someone you trust.” He said, finishing my thought.

I swallowed, feeling myself sink deeper into panic.

As I sat there trying to fight the urge to burst out of the door, I was once again aware of the wonderful way he smelled, and suddenly it became crystal clear what it made me feel…

Safety.

He smelled like safety – just like his mere presence made me feel safe. How incredibly ironic, considering how terrified I currently was. 

I could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he watched me, but it was too much. The revelation was too much, the moment was too much. So I shot out of bed, “I need to go.” I hurriedly exclaimed as I all-but-ran to the door. 

But he had leapt in front of me, blocking the exit, “See that makes no sense to me, love.” Angry eyes stared down at me as he began stalking towards me, forcing me to take steps back in the direction of the bed, “You’re trying to convince me you trust me, but you keep running away scared. Explain that to me.”

“Like you said, we barely know each other.” I answered, my heart racing.

Another step, “Yet you’re so sure you trust me.” He said, his strong build towering over me, his hazel eyes shooting me daggers.

We took several more steps before my foot suddenly hit the bed behind me, causing my breath to hitch. “Yes. W-why does it matter to you anyway?” I retorted in a pathetic attempt to stand my ground, knowing my stutter had only made things worse. 

In one quick motion Oli picked me up and threw me onto the bed, knocking the air out of me. Then his warm and hard body was on top of mine, intense eyes staring down at me, his hair brushing my face, “Trust doesn’t come easily for me.” His tone was dark – frustrated. ”You think I open up to people a lot? You think I sleep around? That’s not who I am, love.” His fingers brushed my forehead tenderly, an eerie action considering the situation, “Then you casually come along, basically telling me you trust me with your life. You’re so fucking confusing Alice, you want me to hurt you, you cry in my arms – open up to me – yet you keep wanting to run away. If you actually trust me, what the fuck are you so scared of?”

I wanted to tell him to let me go, I wanted to run away again – not out of fear of his actions, but fear of where the conversation was heading. But I also knew he deserved answers, despite the way he was going about getting them. So without thinking I spoke the first thought that came to mind, “I-I just got out of a relationship, I’m not ready for anything.”

The tender caress abruptly grabbed my chin in a painful grip, “You’re chattin’ shit, that relationship meant nothing to you. What are you actually scared of?” He bit out.

My heart was in my throat, shocked at his sudden increase in aggression, words I didn’t know to be true until I spoke them out loud came flying out of me, “I’m scared I’ll fall for you.”

The frustration left him instantly, his grip loosened and slipped away. He searched my face carefully before speaking much softer, sweet even, “Why does that scare you?”

I looked up at him, feeling as if I was losing some internal battle I hadn’t known I’d been fighting, “Because we might become more than… whatever this is.”

He squinted down at me, “Would that really be so bad?”

I nodded, scared to speak my next realisation out loud, knowing it threatened to make me cry again – and I had cried entirely too much lately.

Hurt spread across his face, “Why?”

My words came so softly, they were barely audible, “I… I’m terrified of having something worth losing.”

He rolled off of me and positioned himself next to me on the bed. We stared up at the ceiling for a short moment as my heart threatened to leap out of my chest, and I contemplated making a run for the door when he spoke, still staring at the ceiling, “Stay the night.”

Not a command this time, but a request. 

He was done forcing me to stay, forcing me to share my thoughts, and was handing the choice back to me. I could give in and make a run for it – get away from the deep discomfort I was drowning in. 

Or I could stay and fight through it.

But I really didn’t think I could fight through it, so I whispered, “I can’t.”

He turned his head towards me and spoke softly, pleading, “Yes you can.”

When I didn’t answer he sat up, “I’m gonna get ready for bed, when I get back I hope you’re still around.” He shot me one last pleading look before he disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard the shower turn on.

For a while I just laid there – frozen – both body and mind, before I sprung out of bed, grabbed my bag and headed straight for the exit. I stopped myself just a couple of feet short, realising this might have been an ultimatum. That if I left now this might be the end of it all, the end of all the delights and all the discomfort the same.

I let my bag drop to the floor again and watched the bathroom door, listening to the running water. I felt anger set in, like it wasn’t fair of him to expect anything from me, but it faded away as quickly as it came, knowing he had every right to walk away from this if it’s not what he wanted.

I started pacing the room, feeling the timer run out to make a choice. Do I risk leaving, in the hopes he’ll come around and want to continue anyway? 

Or do I face my fears and stay?

I sat down on the bed, still unsure what to do. The sound of the shower felt deafening at this point, as if it grew louder with each passing moment I hadn’t made up my mind yet.

Every so often the water would splash differently, reminding me the culprit of my pressing issue was in there. The man that both made me feel safe, and struck so much fear in me I wanted to run for the hills. Someone who filled me to the brim with excitement, yet I was dreading his reappearance to an immeasurable degree.

The shower stopped, and my racing mind went into overdrive, raking over everything that’s happened the past three weeks, the last 11 years – right back to my childhood, as if I could find answers somewhere in there, going down useless paths that lead nowhere, when the bathroom door opened and my racing thoughts came to a shrieking halt.

Only in boxers, steam lapping him as he stepped into the room. He was drying his wet hair with a towel as he wordlessly walked over to the bed, watching me with a blank stare to see what I would do next. As if it was written all over me that I still hadn’t made up my mind.

I got off the bed to collect my bag before looking back at him, then with a deep breath I chose to walk through the bathroom door instead of the exit.

As soon as I shut the door behind me I felt myself go slightly numb, half disassociating from my decision. I chose to not acknowledge it and go about my business. I showered, I brushed my teeth, and I dressed myself in an oversized t-shirt, covering some sexy underwear. At least this way I felt ready for multiple outcomes, not knowing where this night was heading.

When I stepped out of the bathroom he was laying in bed, one arm propped behind his head, the other holding his phone, which he proceeded to put away when he saw me. Shyness washed over me suddenly, the setting feeling entirely too domestic, too familiar, yet I didn’t know how to behave in this setting with this man. Like he didn’t belong in familiarity.

He moved over and raised the cover to let me in – I followed, then he turned off the lights.

At first the darkness was smothering me, but then he reached for me, pulling me into his embrace, making me the small spoon, and something in me eased.

I tried not to overthink it. I tried not to make this a bigger deal than it was. It was just sleep after all, this doesn’t mean anything. Everyone needs sleep. Sometimes we sleep next to people we’re not dating, and that’s normal.

All perfectly normal things.

He must have noticed how tense I was, as he whispered into my hair, “You alright?”

I nearly laughed, feeling hysterical from all the recent events, from how exhausted I was, from the bizarre situation. Instead I said, “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Willing it to be true.

After a moment he spoke again, “I’m sorry if I wake you, I get nightmares.”

He must have been exhausted too, as shortly after he was clearly asleep, leaving me to watch as the sun slowly came up behind the curtains while he held me.

Thankfully slumber eventually took me as well.

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Chapter 8 - The wolves are at my door

Chapter title is lyrics from "Empire”

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Trust.

The cornerstone of so many things in this world. 

As children we trust our parents to do what is best for us, we vote for the political party we trust to achieve the best outcome, and every day we trust that the food we consume wont poison us.

That doesn’t mean our parents won’t traumatise the shit out of us, politicians don’t lie through their teeth, and we won't be puking our fucking brains out after eating the leftover pad thai.

Yet every daily decision – no matter how big or small – requires us to take a leap of faith in some regard.

For most people the majority of decisions are simple, right? The risk so meaningless we don’t even consider it. But to others, that same risk is a mountain. To these people trust is a rare and incredibly valuable commodity, not easily given or received. 

The problem is, these people may wish to test you in ways you may not expect – in ways that might make you uncomfortable, vulnerable, or push you to some internal limit.

Sounds harsh? Maybe. 

But if you’ve been burnt before, then maybe you too understand why this impulse creeps in like instinct, making it seem impossible to trust someone without testing them with precision.

Is this done with malicious intent? Absolutely not.

We just don’t know any other way.

***

I stared down into my drink, the air thick with the scent of perfume and alcohol.

The night's concert had gone just as expected, and so had all the preparations for it. I didn’t quite understand why me and Liam were invited to this party, since we weren’t actually working, but apparently Liam and whoever was assisting him at the time would always come along on these types of events. 

That assistant just happened to be me right now.

Liam had been chatting my ear off all day about whose house we were going to after the concert, but all I could remember was that it’s some famous rapper I had never heard of. I wanted to listen to Liam so badly, but my mind had been too preoccupied obsessing over the fact that I’d spent last night with Oli – just sleeping in his arms. And instead of waking up with him like a sane person, to potentially have some amazing sex, I slipped out unnoticed before I had a chance to see how the morning could’ve unfolded.

The truth is that while I felt a lot of guilt for not staying, last night had been so mentally taxing I couldn’t risk the conversation continuing in the morning light. 

Especially considering I hadn’t digested my brand new revelations about the man yet. 

Sadly a whole day of pondering, while desperately avoiding the culprit, hadn’t done much else besides make me more confused. 

Not made better by tonight's events.

We’d been here almost two hours, lazily nurturing our drinks on one of the many large sofas in the modern, open space mansion with a view. The party featured a large variety of famous people (or so I’ve been told) and what appeared to be models, graciously hosted by someone whose name begins with Lil – like so many rappers before him.

A handful of models had flocked to the band as soon as we walked through the door, despite clearly not knowing who they were. With one lady in particular that latched onto Oli like a leach as soon as she found out he was the lead singer. 

I’d been both lucky and unfortunate enough to end up within earshot of them on the sofa as she was trying to get to know him. Their conversation was simultaneously hilarious and made me want to scream in frustration; a long series of shallow questions asked with a vocal fry, and Oli replying by deepening his already thick Yorkshire accent to the point that she didn’t stand a chance of understanding a single answer – made apparent by her poorly timed fake laughter in response.

It was infuriating, yet I couldn’t help but find him charming for messing with her.

Despite clearly being mismatched, they kept inching closer to each other as time passed. More smiles were exchanged, more whispers – and why the fuck did she have to touch him so much? 

The long and short of it was; they were flirting. And apparently I didn’t like that one bit, as I couldn’t stop imagining ripping the extensions from her long, dark, Instagram-perfect hair.

Me and Liam were sitting across from them now, a large coffee table separating us. I could hear Liam drunkenly ramble on about his boyfriend back home, but I was hyper aware of what was happening across from us.

Oli was still in his concert clothes. Black trousers, a tight and colourful mesh shirt, with all the usual accessories. And she looked like she had spent a lot of money to look like she could be besties with Kim Kardashian. His hand was currently on her bare thigh, which she had placed there in order to roll up his sleeve and inspect his arm. I couldn’t hear them anymore over the loud music, but my best guess is that they were discussing his ink work.

I’d never considered myself a jealous person, but this was awakening some beast in me I didn’t like. It was some fresh flavour of torture I hadn’t really experienced before. Especially considering I didn’t even know what I wanted from Oli going forward. 

What made it worse was that he hadn’t looked at me all night. I know this, as I could barely keep my eyes off him, to the point that I was worried the rest of the band had noticed. And yes, I’m aware that I was the one to sneak out this morning, just like I was the one who had been avoiding him all day. And still this was stinging in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

To make matters worse I couldn’t tell if it was some form of punishment, or if it was his way of making it clear we were done.

She leaned in to whisper in his ear – again – but this time that same wicked smile he usually shows me slowly grew on his lips as she spoke. It was enough for me to rudely and abruptly stand up in the middle of Liams rant to excuse myself.

“I need the bathroom.” I said in a rush before quickly turning around and striding off.

But I didn’t go to the bathroom, instead I made a beeline for the bar across the massive room to mix myself something significantly stronger. 

As I was standing there, pouring entirely too much rum into my rum and coke, I felt a hand on my ass. I swung around in shock, only to be face to face with a tall, older man, possibly in his 50s, smiling down at me. The smile was so toothy I would’ve been creeped out even if he hadn’t used ‘grabbing my arse’ as a means of introduction. He must have been some investor or something, cause he didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the crowd.

“Hello beautiful, hope I didn’t scare you.” Somehow his smile grew more teeth as he spoke.

I was stuck behind the bar in a dark corner of the room with this gross man, plotting my escape, when Oli suddenly pushed past him.

“There you are, love. Thought I’d lost you there for a second.” He said as he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him. A mixture of anger and relief hit me all at once from his gesture.

Oli shot the man a lazy smile, silently daring him to stick around.

It worked. The man wordlessly grabbed a bottle from the bar and stalked off to – more than likely – locate his next victim.

When he was gone I tried to slip out from under Oli’s arm, not in any mood to talk to him after seeing him flirt with someone else, but he grabbed me by the hips and turned me towards him, “Slow down, Alice. What’s the rush?”

I swatted his hands off of me, “Oh please, go back to your whore.” I bit out, regretting the words instantly, knowing it showed exactly how jealous I was.

He didn’t put his hands back on me, but he took a step closer, “You’re on about that vapid bird back there?” He shook his head, “Fuck off.” He took another step, stalking me similarly to what he did in the hotel last night. Except this time I only had to take one step backwards and I was pressed up against the bar behind me.

He leaned in a bit closer, still not touching me, so I’d hear him over the music as he spoke softer, “Besides, you’re my whore, Alice.” I looked up at him, he was entirely too pleased with himself. A devil's smile grew on his features as his eyes fell to my lips. The anger inside me was mixing with arousal despite my best efforts to stop it, and the implication of the word ‘my’ had not gone unnoticed, further spiralling my confusion as I had both hated and loved it.

“Then why are you flirting with her?” I asked, trying to keep my tone cool.

“I wasn’t, she was flirting with me. Why did you slip out this morning?”

“As if you didn’t love every moment of it.” I retorted, completely ignoring his question.

“Did I now?” He asked, words dripping with sarcasm, before continuing in a more serious tone, “Or did I enjoy watching you squirm?”

He took one last step to press himself up against me, his hand slipping to the small of my back.

“You’re a fucking prick, Oli.” I said, feeling utterly betrayed by my own body. I was furious, and while my words reflected that, my tone told a very different story, conveying exactly how horny I was becoming. 

From his sudden change in demeanour, he could tell what he was doing to me. His eyes darkened before he grabbed me by the hips again to turn me around to face away from him, out towards the room. While they were far away, I could see Liam and the others through the crowd. Which meant that if they decided to look in our direction, they’d be able to see us as well.

I swallowed.

With a gentle gesture he swept the hair away from my shoulder to place his lips there, lazily kissing as his hands roamed my hips and waist. I gasped. His thick locks were tickling my face as his mouth moved along my neck, sending me into sensory overdrive.

“If you were gonna sneak out like that, why did you even bother spending the night?” He said between kisses.

Avoiding his question again, entirely out of spite, “Stop it, they might see us.” Such flustered words.

“You reckon?” He asked with more sarcasm.

I wanted to push away, stop what we were doing. I was angry, made worse by the fact that he was being this reckless with the others finding out about us – despite me having told him I wanted to keep it quiet. But his actions promised so much delight, and my body didn’t want to fight any of it. 

“Why don’t you care if they see?” My tone was so painfully desperate, I couldn’t stand it.

His lips moved to my ear, “If we continue doing this, Alice, they’ll find out sooner or later anyway. It’s all the same to me.” He pulled away slightly and ran his fingers down the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine, “I love these marks on you, it’s like you’re my canvas.” He said with words full of wonder. 

Of course his kisses had rubbed off my concealer – the only thing besides my hair hiding his bite marks on me. 

Then his teeth were on my shoulder, a bit lower than his previous marks, pushing down hard enough to make me clutch the edge of the bar as his fingers dug into my hips, holding me closer. He pulled away, his lips grazing my sore skin, “I just want to cover you, love.” He said in a low tone, barely audible over the music.

“Please, can we do this somewhere else?” So, so desperate. I hated myself. I shouldn’t be considering going anywhere with him. I should storm off and not let myself be treated like this. He was just cosying up with someone else for fuck sake – what the hell am I doing?

But my body was winning, it needed him. 

I needed him.

“Do what?” He asked, clearly knowing what I was talking about – clearly not done playing with me here.

He began pulling the hem of my dress up. I ripped my vision away from guarding against the band members looking our way, and nervously darted my eyes around to see if anyone could see what he was doing behind the cover of the bar. Thankfully no one seemed to notice, or at least not pay us any attention.

“Oli, please…” My words continued in the same desperate tone, making it unclear whether I was begging him to continue, or stop.

The offending hand slipped under my dress and grazed my pussy ever so slightly, threatening to make my knees buckle. 

But suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, pulled away and turned me back around in one jarring motion. A serious stare looking down at me, “You’re wearing underwear.” 

He proceeded to stare at me as I tried to collect myself from the abrupt interruption. When I didn’t answer he continued, “Why?”

I had contemplated not wearing any tonight, but considering I planned to avoid him until I had dealt with my internal confusion, it had seemed pointless.

I shook myself, the break from the intoxicating touches sobering me up and I began feeling the anger in full force again. 

“You’re gonna question why I’m wearing underwear? Seriously fuck you, Oli. Why are you trying to make me jealous? I stayed the night didn’t I? Just cause I wasn’t there when you woke up shouldn’t undo that, or justify whatever the hell it is you’re doing tonight. What’s your fucking problem?”

He clearly wasn’t expecting my sudden outburst, and neither had the people around us as some of them were now looking in our direction. 

Several emotions flickered across his face before he stepped to the side and leaned on the bar next to me, waiting for the people around us to forget about us before he spoke, “You’re not the only one who’s scared, Alice.”

The anger was still simmering under the surface, but was dulled from his honest answer.

He looked down before looking back at me with a sly smile, “In my defence, you’re fucking hot when you’re jealous.”

My frown deepened as the anger threatened to boil over again.

Nope, I was done. 

I started to walk away but he grabbed me by the wrist to yank me back in front of him. “Wait, Alice. Fuck… Alright, I’m sorry.” He said, vulnerable eyes meeting mine.

The grip on my wrist loosened, testing if I would leave if he let go. 

I just glared at him wordlessly, contemplating what to do next. Meanwhile somewhere in the back of my mind I was hoping he’d convince me to stay. 

When I didn’t walk away he took my hands in his instead.

I let him.

“You should’ve stuck around this morning. We could’ve had a nice time, you know.” A sad yet playful smile tugging on his lips, his thumbs mindlessly brushed my fingers.

Despite having been a dipshit, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, causing something inside me to relax. Whatever anger melted away was replaced by guilt for not having stayed this morning. While I didn’t know how much it meant to him, I knew it had meant something. It was the only way I could even begin to explain his behaviour tonight.

In an attempt to set things right for now – partially because of the alcohol in my system – I interlaced our fingers. He looked down at what I was doing, and when his eyes came back to meet mine they were softer, less sadness resting behind them.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Oli.” Honest words, I was clueless. I had no idea what I wanted, and I needed time to figure it out.

He laughed, “I’ve got no clue what I’m doing either, love.”

We stood like that for a moment before he looked behind him at the band members across the room, then back at me, “How about we go find somewhere they can’t see us?” He said, then pulled me in closer to speak against my ear, “Let me fly you closer to the sun.”

Excitement spread through me as he echoed my words from last night.

He pulled away to search my face for answers.

I knew I couldn’t resist. It didn’t matter what I felt, I was tipsy, exhausted and I knew what he was offering would replenish something in me that felt depleted.

A smile grew on my features, “Okay. Let’s go.”

He smiled back at me, eyes gleaming with mischief, “Before we go, can you do me a favour?”

“What?” I asked, feeling a bit apprehensive. 

His expression darkened, “Take off your underwear.”

I shifted nervously, “...Here?”

He lazily leaned back against the bar, looking at me through heavy-lidded eyes, waiting for me to fulfil his request. My heart began to race, and the smile was tugging on his lips again as I was assessing the surroundings, anxiously looking around to see if anyone would notice. 

No one was looking at us anymore as far as I could tell.

With equal parts excitement and anxiety, I decided to go with it, trusting that he would fulfil his end of the bargain.

I took a deep breath and began to shimmy out of my underwear as inconspicuously as I possibly could, knowing that if anyone were to look they’d still know exactly what I was doing. Especially once they slid down to my ankles, and I had to bend over to retrieve them.

His eyes appeared glazed over as he held out his hand, expecting me to hand them over. I balled up the black lace in my hands to make it less obvious what I was handing him, and placed them in his open palm. They quickly disappeared into his pocket, then he immediately took my hand to sweep me away through the crowd. 

He guided me up some stairs and we sprinted down a long hallway before he began opening doors to find a room he was satisfied with. “Perfect.” He said under his breath as he led us into one of them and shut the door behind us.

It was a fairly simple room considering the size of the mansion. A queen sized bed facing large glass doors, leading out to a small glass framed balcony looking out over an empty garden. 

It must be a guest room. 

He didn’t bother turning on the lights as all the lanterns from the garden below lit the room fairly well.

He pulled me up to the glass doors and pressed me up against them. The glass was icey against my back, but was quickly forgotten when his hand slipped to my nape, angling me for a deep kiss. The confusing sense of safety washed over me when I was flooded with his scent, easing something in me, despite knowing he intended to take me somewhere dangerous tonight. His other hand guided mine to the hardness straining awkwardly against the stiff fabric of his trousers, forcing me to grab it. His lips left mine with an exhale, staring down at me through messy hair with wet parted lips, panting. “It’s fucking gagging for it. I haven’t cum since I came in you – and it doesn’t help when you keep running away.” As he spoke the last words he made me squeeze it, and I felt it tense through the fabric – my breath hitched in response.

“It was torture not fucking you last night, but I thought it’d be worth it with everything I had planned to do to you this morning.” His voice deepened, laced with frustration and sarcasm, “But you weren’t there this morning, were you?”

Regret sank in, and I was about to open my mouth to explain myself, when the hand holding my nape was suddenly at my throat, pressing me up against the glass so hard I couldn’t breathe. His gaze turned vicious as he held me there, “You’re not running away tonight.”

Adrenaline filled my veins. I tried not to be scared but I hadn’t quite seen that look in his eyes prior. Or at least not to this degree.

Letting go of the hand holding me to his cock, he slipped between my legs instead. He didn’t bother feeling me or taking his time, instead his fingers pushed into me without warning, causing my knees to go weak, forcing me to grab at his arms. His vicious gaze melted and glazed over, staring into my eyes as he played with me, still not letting me breathe.

Then something in me shifted as he watched me, the rush of having my safety in someone else's hands, flooding me with some inexplicably unmatched sense of fulfilment. Suddenly everything felt right with the world, like this was somehow the one thing I had been missing. Sadly the rush didn’t last long enough, as I was becoming more and more desperate for air – something he hadn’t really let me experience before. He studied me closely, testing how long he could keep me suspended like this. My nails began to sink into his arms to let him know it was enough. Too much.

His eyes glazed further, letting his fingers travel deeper into me, grinding his hips against my thigh, “Bit more, love. You can do it.” His words were barely a whisper over the distant bass line from downstairs.

Another rush hit me, a mix of panic and ecstasy that threatened to scramble my brain. I only felt it for a split second before he let go in one quick violent motion. I slumped onto him, coughing as he held me against his chest with the hand that had just choked me for too long.

After a moment or two of letting me catch my breath, he leaned me back against the glass. There were hints of worry in his eyes when they met mine.

“Too much?” He asked tenderly, shaking the hair out of his face.

I stared at him, and for some reason I didn’t want him to know it was too much, as if it would prove some point in his favour. “No.” I replied in a horse tone. Knowing it could be a mistake to push my luck like this.

He held my gaze a bit longer, not looking convinced, before he slipped his fingers out of me. I gasped at the sudden shift inside me.

“We’ll see about that.” He brought the glistening fingers up to my face, “Now open up.” He said, his gaze falling to my mouth.

As soon as I parted my lips the warm and slick fingers pushed into my mouth, causing his own lips to part in delight. Knowing what he wanted, I sucked on them eagerly for him.

“Such a good whore.” He murmured, before pulling his fingers out and pressing his mouth to mine, moaning into me with another deep kiss, his hand grabbing me, digging into me. He pulled away to lean himself against my forehead. “You taste so fucking sweet.”

One of his hands disappeared, and when he leaned back he was dangling my black lace underwear between his forefinger and middle finger, the mischief back in his eyes, “Open your mouth again for me.”

Realisation hit me, but I wasn’t going to deny him this, so I gingerly opened my mouth.

“Wider.” He bit out.

I snapped my mouth open, bringing the smile back to his lips. As he was taking his sweet time stuffing my own underwear into my mouth, I was struck by how surreal the moment was. I didn’t know whether I should be wondering if I had gone wrong somewhere, or if I should count my lucky stars to be experiencing this.

I don’t know if it was my aroused state or the alcohol, but the latter was winning by miles.

When he was happy with his work, he placed a knuckle under my chin and pushed up to close my mouth – leaving only a small piece of lace spilling out of my mouth, tickling my chin.

“No more underwear, yeah?” He said sweetly, nodding towards me – a clear indication that I should nod back, so I did.

He took a couple steps back and started unbuckling his belt. The shadow of my own silhouette shrouding his legs, the rest of him washed in a warm glow from the garden lights below us. He looked like a hungry animal prowling in the night, his eyes barely visible through the tufts of hair covering them, sparkling as the light hit them just right. 

All his muscles moved beneath his tight shirt as he pulled the belt off in one smooth motion and folded it in half.

I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, knowing what was about to happen.

“On the bed.” He sounded serious, focused.

Steadying myself, I pushed off the glass and started crawling onto the bed. As soon as I got on all fours at the end of the bed, he grabbed me by the hips to stop me.

“Right there.” He murmured, before placing a hand on my head to push me down onto the bed. Leaving me face down, ass up, clutching the sheets, with my underwear dangling from my lips.

“Stay just like that.” 

I felt so incredibly vulnerable and anxious, yet my pussy wouldn’t stop pulsing in anticipation. Every nerve in my body was on edge, not knowing when to expect the pain.

A hand appeared on the back of my thigh, the unexpected gentle touch making me flinch.

“You sit there, watching me with someone else – for hours.”

The hand followed my curves upwards, pushing my dress up, revealing the bare skin of my behind to him.

His voice darkened significantly, “I see you chat with a fucking twat for a split second and I want to set the whole world on fire.” 

Despite knowing it would happen, the sudden loud whipping sound accompanied by the sharp searing pain was a complete shock. I shot up onto all fours with a muffled cry.

But as soon as I shot up, he immediately pushed me right back down – as if he had expected me to react the way I did.

He continued, “And you, love…” Such a sweet tone, before turning sinister, “How you stand me chattin’ with some other bird for that long, I haven’t a fucking clue.”

Another loud whip, on my other cheek this time. I fought the instinct to shoot back up, instead biting down hard on the fabric in my mouth, balling my fists into the sheets.

He made a pained noise behind me. I couldn’t tell if it was out of enjoyment, or if this was somehow torturing himself as well. Or maybe – much like for myself – a mixture of both.

An arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me up against the warm body behind me. I made a muffled yelping noise and grabbed at his arm to steady myself. I could feel his heavy breaths on the bite mark he left on my shoulder downstairs. Then his hands were on me, his touches turning more tender, passionate. His fingers reached my pussy and he began touching me for my pleasure, instead of the previous punishment. I felt myself relaxing against him, reaching up and back to push my fingers into his hair, guiding his mouth to the bitemarks. He ground his hips into me with a moan as he placed his mouth over them. I whimpered through the fabric in my mouth in response, both in pain from the stinging sensation on multiple locations on my sore body, as well as in pleasure. The gentler touches had turned into a form of ecstasy as I was coming down from the intense pain, panic, and fear. I felt like I had unlocked another type of high – another addiction I wasn’t sure I wanted to be without anymore. 

His kisses moved up my neck, leaving gentle bites as he went, both of us grabbing desperately for each other.

When he reached my ear he spoke harsh words, in an almost disturbingly soft tone, “What’s your fucking limit, Alice?” Causing me to tense up in anticipation all over again as the intimate touches ground to a halt.

He reached for the belt, looping it around my neck as if it was a slip lead. When it was loosely placed around my neck, he let go of it and pushed me forward, making me fall onto all fours again. 

My heart was racing, the fear from not being able to breathe earlier returning, making me wonder if I should speak up before he would decide to pull on it. Yet the bass line from downstairs sounded more and more like the steady beat of war drums, resonating with something deep inside me that wanted nothing more than to travel deeper and deeper down this rabbit hole he had led us down.

I was staring down at the dark belt curling in on itself against the light sheets, feeling the fear melt into a deep hunger when I heard him unzip his trousers behind me, and excitement made a grin spread over my lace filled mouth.

I felt something warm push at my entrance, and it was all it took to set my whole body on fire. I wanted to feel him inside me again so badly I began to tremble as I fought off the urge to push back against him.

I heard a low laugh behind me; he must have noticed my desperation. He grabbed my hip to keep me in place, before he began rubbing his tip up and down my slick folds, eliciting the most delectable sounds from him. I felt like I was going mad. I kept trying to move against him – to get him inside me – but his hand just dug deeper into my hip. The sounds spilling out of me growing more desperate by the moment.

His words came low and pained, “Fuck. Am I teasing you or me?” Then he finally pulled me towards him, burying himself to the hilt.

My arms gave out and I fell face first onto the mattress, clawing at the sheets. Only his desperate grip on my hips keeping me in place. His breathing came ragged as he tensed inside me, holding me there. I moaned, biting down on the underwear for dear life, knowing I’d get my mind blown once he actually started moving.

It didn’t matter that I knew it was coming, I wasn’t ready for it. My eyes rolled back as I tried to ride the waves of motion.

Only a short moment passed before he muttered, “Fuck”, low and guttural, only to come to a full stop. A hand appeared next to my face to grab the belt looped around my neck, gently yanking on it, “Back on all fours, love.” His words were shaky, you could tell he was fighting his own climax. Made more obvious by how much I could feel him throb inside me. I should have been disappointed it wouldn’t last long, but all it did was fan the flames of the fire inside me, turning it into an inferno – leaving me intoxicated with lust.

I pushed myself back up, my own arms as shaky as his voice. I could see his shadow painted on the wall in front of me, his head slumped forward, chest heaving. When he started moving inside me again his head fell back, the ragged breaths coming faster, heavier. My heart beating steadily between my legs, my teeth clenching, my fists balling as I used all my energy to stay in place while I felt like my brain was about to explode.

His head snapped back up and he began pounding me faster, making a sound akin to a growl. He yanked on the make-shift leash, choking me for a second as it pulled me up against him, then the movements came to a sudden stop. 

“I should’ve fucking cum without you this morning, I can’t do this much longer.” He said through clenched teeth, a mixture of frustration and anger dripping from his words. 

Once again I felt him tense inside me, and I couldn’t help it, it was too tempting; I moved my hips on him, causing him to whimper and hold me tighter to prevent further movement.

“None of that.” His words were breathy and distant, clearly too busy focusing on not coming just yet. A grin bloomed on my face, feeling high as a kite from all the extreme sensations I’ve experienced tonight. 

Since I wasn’t able to move my hips – and despite my better judgement – I tensed my pussy instead. His grip on me tightened further, turning painful with his nails digging into me, another low and pained noise escaping him as he buried his face in my neck.

“You’ll regret that.” He spoke against my skin before pushing me forward, yanking the belt harder – not quite stopping my breathing, but hard enough to make me grab for it out of pain. I fumbled to steady myself as he suddenly let go of the belt to grab my hips, pounding me hard and fast – just for a moment – before he pulled out. He let go of me, and I slumped forward onto the bed, feeling empty and shaky.

“Come here, down on your knees.” His words were low and pained.

Regardless of my state, I hurried to do as he said, knowing he was close.

As soon as I got on my knees he shoved his hand into my hair to guide my face close to his cock. It was so beautifully veiny and slick from my own juices, bobbing slightly from the edging. 

“Open your mouth.” He bit out, in an oh-so-delightfully desperate tone.

I snapped it open and looked up at him. He appeared possessed, completely taken over by lust. His lips were as glossy as his eyes as he stared down at me. 

Hurriedly, he pulled the underwear out of my mouth, then grabbed his cock to stroke it as he spoke, “I can’t tell you how tempting it is to cum all over you, love – show everyone downstairs you’re my whore.” His voice was deeper as he got closer to the edge.

My nerves crept back at his words, my eyes darted between the cock in his hand and his dark, glassy, eyes.

“I can’t imagine a more beautiful image.” With each word his tone fell deeper still, turning it nearly demonic. Every stroke came longer, slower – with more intent.

“Suck it.” Barely a whisper. He guided my head onto it with a moan, and as soon as my lips closed around his length I felt the cum spilling onto my tongue. The fist in my hair pushing and pulling me the way he wanted, my mouth filling up more and more with every movement. So many sounds spilling out of him as he trembled, making my eyes fall shut; making me moan in response – making me not want to swallow, so I could keep feeling exactly like this for longer.

When he was done he pulled out of my mouth, and fell to his knees in front of me.

Bliss was on his features; tired eyes, flushed face, a lazy wicked grin, with his still hard cock pressing up against his shirt as he was leaning forwards slightly. I could feel my own features mirroring his bliss as I took in the sight of him. 

I wanted so badly to take a mental screenshot and keep it forever.

The lazy smile on his lips grew as he was staring at my mouth. He gently grabbed my chin, realising I was still holding his cum in there.

With a soft laugh he said, “Go on, swallow.”

Reluctantly, I did as he said, feeling the warm liquid run down my throat.

He scanned my face with wonder in his eyes, “Good girl.”

... Continue reading on Ao3

[sualne]

Hello! I love your crocodad au! I wanted to ask how do you plan stuff out for comics? Cause you have arcs figured out and whenever I try to plan it ends up as 3 ideas in a hat

this au started as 3 ideas in hat! at first i kind of wrote everything that i came up with, funny stuff and a few specific key moments without much of anything around. then i kind of pad around it, trying to figure out how to get these few moments.

started the au with the just the concept of croc raising luffy and what that could entail to, then thought of robin being there and the betrayal. everything went from there afterwards.

comics are great because you can make them somewhat episodic, im not good at telling 100% linear story, it's much easier to start with something episodic where each comics can be their own thing then slowly brings everything together. put some foreshadowing here, bring back this detail there. that's why the prologue isn't drawn in chronological order. 1) because i hadn't planned the whole thing at first, could draw in whatever order i felt like while i came up with the narrative. 2) because it's more fun to draw the funny part first, the shorter comics and really just putting the general idea of what the setting is like so i can work of that.

for example i decided without thinking that luffy got shot so he could keep a scar next to his eye, but different from the canon one so ppl could tell au and canon luffy apart. then i realized how much that event could influence the rest of story and characters, the themes and all.

what im saying is a few things started without too much thoughts behind them, put them there for fun or for convenience then went back to see how it could impact the story and characters and developed on that. there's a lot of ideas i ended up scratching because it didn't work, weren't actually that interesting or fun to me.

i've got a text file on my laptop and phone where i write anything that comes to mind, never delete any of the abandoned idea because i can always come back to them and take what was really interesting about them, reshape them entirely into something that works better. the notes can be a single sentence that will make no sense in a few weeks or a detailed plan of what a comic or event could be like, detailing each characters feelings and the setting it takes place in.

whenever i get hyped about something that won't happen until forever i go draw it, that way i won't forget about it and everytime i'll look at it i'll get all hyped again to keep working till we get there.

my process is kind of "write shit for kicks and giggles then go back and make it make sense."

[daddysfangirls-dc]

UnTamed Ch.2

Damian Wayne x OC!Female

Prev | Next

Damian didn't tell anybody about his encounter with the shapeshifter. Although he'd never admit it, he was embarrassed and ashamed allowing something like this to happen. He brought an intruder into the manor. Fortunately, he didn't reveal much in speaking, and she never left the room, and she was asleep for most of everything else. Small wins.

He could still remember how she looked both as a feline and human. The feline was beautiful, with black fur and blue eyes. He had drawn a few sketches of her while she slept and a few of her awake. The ones with her sleeping were gentle and peaceful. The ones with her awake were scary and intimidating, like she'd jump out and scratch anyone who got too close. While he had made many drawings of her in her cat persona, he could not draw her as human. He did remember her human form, her crystal blue eyes, and slightly matted long black hair. Her crouch was a mix of being a predator, protecting, and fear. He could remember but capture such a sight, at least not on paper, not with a pencil. 

But that was okay, he'd find. 

-

It had been about two weeks since what she had dubbed the 'Wayne incident' occurred. Since then, she had caught up on all the missed sleep and more.  She continued to help people while the snow was no longer thick. As Mr. Freeze made it, it was still there, and it was still cold, and people were still at risk.  Running around Gotham in every shape and form to help in every and any way. Damian was pushed to the back of her mind. She had far more oppressing matters to deal with, like the poor people of Gotham.

It's not like anyone would believe him anyway. A black cat turns into a girl, then jumps out the window and turns into a bird. That's just absurd, ridiculous, the wild imagination of a foreign child. She was in the clear. 

"Hey!" someone shouted "Hey Girl!" they shouted again as they came to a running stop in front of her. He knew he was coming to her as she was literally the only one on the street. She let him have a moment to catch his breath. " We got... a problem". The older boy said in between breathes.

"What is it? And how can I help?" 

"Medicine, we're running out of medicine and medicinal supplies"

"How? The Waynes Foundations are supplying"

"The snow is still too thick for some trucks to get through others are being taken by gangs. We can't get them. "

Shouldn't be surprised Gotham's crooks were always looking for a way to benefit in the events of tragedy. The bigger the crook, the bigger the take, the bigger the mess, the more suffering. It was the circle of life in Gotham. A routine that never seemed to be broken. Very few escaped it. 

" I'll see what I can do. Where is everyone setup"

"We got one of the abandoned apartments. The one across from the stingy bodega. 

"Okay" 

As he turned to leave, he looked her up and down. She was wearing nothing but a large pair of boots and an oversized long winter coat with only a few buttons buttoned up. While he couldn't see it, he suspected there wasn't anything underneath. He wasn't going to say anything, though. No one who saw her like this ever did maybe a few hinted warnings of what her lack of clothes could bring, but no one outright said anything and let her continue her dangerous nudist lifestyle. But today was different, and today it was getting into the near negatives so.

"Would you like my sweatpants? I have another pair underneath. Or my sweater."

She looked at him, confused, " Why would I want your sweatpants?"

"Because... because you don't have any?" 

"And I don't need any" 

And with that, she turned down an alley. He was stunned for a moment before he tried to follow her. Turning down the alley, he found it to be an empty dead end aside from a pair of boots. She had vanished. 

-

When there are people in need, there are people with greed. 

Damian forgot which of his siblings told him this (Probably Jason), but it was moments like this that the statement seemed true. While the city was recovering from Mr.Freeze and preparing for an early and long winter. The crooks, thieves, and criminals of the city came looking to take advantage of the weak and misfortunate. Thugs such as Penguin and Black Mask had been messing with the supply line that helped the shelters were being taken and ambushed. The free supplies were simply no longer free. And Batman and Robin were going to fix that tonight.

Batman and Robin were set up at the Harbor, watching the warehouses and docks to see which thugs would try something and where. While Red Robin and Red Hood have returned, Red Robin has been placed to watch the Penguin and his movements while Red Hood was assigned to Black Masks. Oracle was watching the camera. Keeping eyes on the whole city as always. 

"Something's happening at the docks," She said, giving directions to the commotion. Just as they arrived a truck ramped through the garage door and speeding away. 

"I'll take the truck." Robin took chase before anyone could respond and stop him. Robin Jumped several roofs before he dove off the building and onto the truck's roof. Climbing onto the cab, and jumped down by the passenger door, opened it up, and found ...

THE GIRL. 

-

It wasn't hard to find the thugs stealing medicinal supplies. They weren't really hiding, at least not in the daylight. Once she found their place or operations, she hid until the shipment arrived. In places like this, no one really minded the fly on the wall. She watched and listened as they talked about different deals and schedules and whatnot. Apparently, this warehouse belonged to the Penguin he had strongly armed the non-profits and charities or supplies. If they didn't pay their way, supplies didn't come, or they went missing. Thugs talked a lot.

After several hours of waiting, the shipment finally arrived. She waited for them to fill the truck, and then she made her move. Shifting from a fly to a rat, she scurried across the floor without being caught and hopped into the truck. Just as the driver got in and ready to go, she decided to hop on his leg. "OH SHITT!!" he screamed and jumped out of the cab. Unfortunately, he didn't put it in park, and the truck drove forward, hitting the garage door. 

"WHAT THE HELL?!"  one of the bosses came out shouting.

While chaos occurred, the girl shifted to her human self. It was then that the men realized someone was in the cab, and she realized then that she didn't know how to drive. There was no time to ponder on that. As the guns started going off, she hit the gas and hoped for the best. Plowing through the door and taking off. Flying between warehouses wrecking, she had just made it to the streets when the passenger door opened, revealing  Robin.

"I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING WRONG " 

"YOU'RE STEALING A TRUCK AND DRIVING RECKLESSLY. WHILE NAKED?!?"

"I'm taking back what was ours. And I'm 10 I don't know how to drive I've never been in a car before." she ignored the comment about her nudity. 

Robin climbed further in the cab and tried to take the wheel, but she refused and started to kick and push at him. " Let me take the wheel"

"NO!" she shouted. 

"No, we're going back to the harbor to the police." 

"No, we're going to the shelter. People need this stuff, and they need it now. " Robin slowly stopped fighting. " If I give it to the police, they'll take days to process everything. And in Processing, I guarantee you have this shit will go missing. People need this stuff, they need it now"

He didn't say anything after that he let her drive he actually started helping her drive. As they reached the shelter, she honked the horn, and people came rushing out to the truck, Robin jumped out of that cab to open the back of the truck. By the time the truck was emptied and Robin returned to the cab, the girl was gone. 

Three buildings away on the roof, she watched as Robin helped those in the shelter. She could see it, the way he acted, always arrogant, above everyone else, and the things he did, such as taking care of animals and donating money. Plus, he has black hair, a constant scowl, stiff and tight posture. How could no one else see it? 

[bomberqueen17]

Sewing Things Update

So I uh, I worked for hours on sewing all last week and this past weekend, and uh well I didn’t finish anything but I did do a lot of stuff. So, a scattershot update:

1) I am making a muslin of this dress, out of muslin (amazing), and it has you bind the neckline with bias tape, which I had not done before. Well, I thought I hadn’t, and I didn’t understand the directions, but then i started to do it and duh this is the technique I used to finish the inside necklines of like, all the supportive kirtles I made for garb between 2006 and 2012. I just did the last stitching by hand for those, which gives a different look. But it’s entirely the same geometry as that.

Anyway here’s a photo, featuring me not feeling like cutting bias binding out of the muslin so I used the closest scrap to hand that seemed like it was cotton. I’m going to overdye the muslin if it turns out as something wearable anyway-- I also didn’t prewash it so it’s gonna depend how much it shrinks. This was all kind of an experiment. but I have some fabric I really like that I want to use for the final version of the dress, so I figured muslin was a good way to go.

[image description: a beige muslin garment sits on an ironing board with pins holding down the turquoise bias binding applied to the neckline.]

2) Once I lined the neckline I assembled the front and back bodices, and that meant it was Sleeve Set in Time and i hate gathering so I let myself hand-sew the gathers in. They turned out better on the second sleeve than the first, but now I know that technique.

[img description: beige muslin fabric, with a seam in the middle, and the fabric to the left is slightly gathered while the fabric to the right of the seam is flat.]

3) Muslining stretch garments: I got the pattern for this knit wrap dress exclusively so I could make cropped tops out of it, as I’ve always loved the idea of a wrap top and have never been able to buy one that fit me. I’m muslining it in dress length though, because like, why not, I’ve never had a wrap dress that fit me either. I have this huge wodge of really crappy cotton jersey that I got on clearance from dharma trading because it’s not *quite* white, and I’ve discovered that it’s reasonable quality fabric BUT it becomes grungy-looking upon the first wash. So it’s great for muslining because it was so cheap, and then I’m going to attempt to overdye it when I have a stash of muslins to overdye, and we’ll just see. Some of these muslins may not turn out wearable so I also may take them back apart, but these are all problems for future me. Meanwhile I’m squeezing the pattern pieces for as many things as I possibly can onto this stuff.

[image description: a stretch of white fabric is across two smallish tables; pattern pieces are drawn on in Sharpie because it’s a muslin so who cares what it looks like i just need it to be accurate so i can make my fit adjustments!]

4) and I finally read the pattern yardage charts correctly for this dress, which I have been longing to make but it needs 7 yards of fabric... if it’s 45″ wide and you’re making one size larger than I am. So actually, I have 4.5 yards of 55″ of this fabric I think is really cool, but then I need a contrast fabric to make the neck and waistbands out of.

and it crossed my mind that like i could... i could make inkle bands for this purpose. I posted a question to the forum (this is a Club pattern, which I got by subscription, and there’s a forum that goes along with the Club) and the dress designer told me that the neckline ties do need to be on the bias to stretch a little, but the waistband does not, there’s an interior piece stabilizing it, so it could be made out of anything. So I have gone through my weaving threads and tried to figure out what colors would coordinate.

[image description: a length of fabric printed with animals and women and flowers, with a hand-woven inkle band lying atop it.]

This test band is too wide and too short, I need it to be like 120″ long and half an inch wide or less, but the colors work-- cream, black, blue/gray, and bright green.

This is Mood’s Elysian Menagerie Cotton Voile and this girl is my new girlfriend:

[image description: a close-up of a woman printed on the fabric, who has her head at a coy angle and is wrapped in a blue-gray towel with a vine flowing around her.]

we’re going to be very happy together, if only i can figure out how to do the waist ties on this dress.

I bought the fabric with a different pattern in mind but the scale is so large on this print, that even with the size pattern pieces I’m using (i’m a US size 20) the girls and peacocks and zebras and giraffes would get chopped up, so I decided to use this dress because it’s in big vertical panels. The woman in this print is larger than my hand. So, I’m gonna give this a shot.

Also pray for me I’m not doing a muslin before hand because it’s SO much fabric and muslin is too thick, this needs to be pretty lightweight, and I don’t have four and a half yards of unwanted gauze or chiffon lying around. (Also, i’m a little worried that I will use up ALL of my sewing energy on these muslins and wind up with ZERO finished garments, so I’m going to go for it. The pattern pieces are so big that even if i fuck it up beyond all saving, I’ll be able to recut something else out of it. This may be famous last words but like. I gotta commit.)

[poppyseedoncaffeine]

CH. 4

A/N: I thought long and hard about this, but I wanted some good sibling interactions, well, as well as you can get with two respectable blood hobos, a small child, and a trashcan man to maim. You're welcome. Also cuz I think its funny, trash guys name keeps changing.

2 1/2

        Magic had many uses, ones so great that the author of this story can't even tell you all of them, apparently making some one changes ages and sizes was one of them. To be completely honest, it wasn't Eclipse who noticed it, it Was Harvest. Harvest was the more vigilant of the twins, there were times where the sleepier twin knew when they had taken it to far and did his best to atone for both of them. A shred of humanity residing deep within the bot. Nights where Eclipse lay in pain tucked against the bot, a broken melody playing from the larger of the two. Harvest was the closest thing the child had for comfort.

        Eclipse tugged at the gown, it no longer reached his knees, the exposed skin made him feel uncomfortable, a second gown had been cut and wrapped around his waist in a sad attempt to mimic a diaper. Toilets weren't a thing when all that inhabited a base were robots. Well minus two, but that would change soon... hopefully. Harvest sat behind his twin, watching over the two, nothing too damaging could happen to Eclipse, Harvest was going to make sure of that, if he stayed awake long enough. Eclipse glanced at Blood, what he was doing to that trashcan? man? was none of his concern, though the jumbled up nonsense and breaking of bones certainly didn't help the child calm down.

        "Sibling must you hurt the trash headed man now?" BM paused, a long intestine dangling from their mouth, then resumed, not bothering to answer. Eclipse gagged, berrying his head between his legs, new bowl of food left untouched. Unsurprisingly when one watches someone get ripped apart in so many different ways they tend to loose their appetite. "Penelope! Why?" the odd squelching sound of blood and guts being magically drawn back in was nauseating, "was the beheaded rat not enough for you my love?"

        Eclipse wrinkled his nose, gross, rats were yucky. "BROTHER WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUT?!"  BM whined pausing to look at their twin, "Penelope, I can give you ALL the rats you want!" Eclipse giggled, BM wouldn't want rats! Waste basket  was silly! Eclipse lifted his head to look at BM's face, a look of disgust coating the nano machines face. 

        There was a pregnant pause, the odd sounding relationship between The tin head man and Penelope, furthering the overall discomfort in the room. The man resumed screaming and Eclipse buried his head between his legs once more.

       3.

 Eclipse was sleepy, that's all he ever felt. Several bowls lay empty at his feet, those bowls were meant to last the week while KC and the twins were gone. He hadn't meant to eat all of them! He was just hungry! He felt around for a bowl, it was too dark to see, he didn't like the dark. His hand brushed one and he immediately got to work on scraping the sides clean, it tasted funny, not as good as it had a few days ago, and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

        His whole body went ridged as the door opened, KC? No to short for KC or the twins, his eyes hurt as they adjusted to the light assaulting his eyes. "Penelope?" the man staggered into the room, the bowl slipped from the child's hands, landing with a clatter. The ashcan turned towards the noise "PENELOPE!" he lunged at Eclipse, picking him up with an iron grip, "why, you are much smaller than the last time i saw you!"

        "NO! NO! NO! NO!" Eclipse screamed, kicking the trashcan with a mighty clang of bare feet meeting metal. The tin-headed man let go, he stumbled for a moment. Eclipse scrambled off the floor, his foot hurt. The door! he could get to the door and get out! the idea left him giddy as he lunged out of the crazy mans reach. He scrambled past the door and was startled by a loud blaring sound, he didn't like that it was too loud, he couldn't hear Trashcan head, and his eyes still hurt. 

        Get out. Get out. He had to get out! Eclipse ran down the hall as fast as his little legs would take him. The blaring only got louder the further he got from the room. His foot caught on an upturned plate of metal and he came crashing to the ground, his body trembled, he hadn't moved for the last few days, only to eat the scraps left behind in the bowls. 

        The floor beneath him trembled as if something heavy was landing on it, Dumpster man? Eclipse whimpered at the thought of the creepy man standing over him. The alarm was almost overbearing. He moved, just to cover his ears, he wasn't able to do much more than that. A loud screech pierced over the alarm, "NO! NO! NOOO-" 

        Eclipse curled into a ball as if that would protect him from whatever was killing Bin man. Seconds, what felt like hours, passed by as he listened to the screams fade under the alarm. Eclipse yelped as he was lifted of the ground, No! he didn't want to be with pail man! Eclipse weakly clawed at the metal chest... wait, Eclipse opened his eye, Meeting a thoroughly soaked Harvest moon, in what looks to be blood. Harvest said nothing, or maybe he did, who knows Eclipse couldn't hear anything over the alarm anymore.

        A firm, sticky hand covered Eclipse's ear, muffling the sound. The child shuddered in relief, nuzzling into the bots chest Eclipse sighed. This was nice. All too soon Eclipse was set onto the cold floor of the lab, the alarm had stopped, when had it stopped. Harvest walked to one of the cabinets scrounging around for something. Eclipse waddled to the bowls, looking at them now he wished he hadn't eaten them, the little remaining food was fuzzy and smelled bad, or maybe that was the blood, who's to say.

        Harvest appeared next to the child, "you know, you grow faster than any child I have seen" Harvest turned Eclipse around and began unbuttoning the back of the flimsy gown, "much too tall than you were a week ago" the cold air hit Eclipse's skin and he shuddered. Harvest laughed at himself, "I have killed most children I have seen, so maybe not the best example" Harvest carefully put the too big gown on Eclipse, the neck bit fell over his shoulder. 

"BIG!" Eclipse swished the garment, it almost reached his ankles!

        Harvest nodded, "has to be, yo-" *Yawn* "you want it to last more than a week" Harvest stood up, bunching the old garment in his hands. Eclipse sat down, exhausted, he grabbed a nearby bowl and looked at the rotted contents. It might not hurt? Before he could even make a decision, the bowl was snatched from his hands,

        "Ah~ Ah~ Ah~" Eclipse stiffened, eye looking up at KC, when had he come in? KC crouched down to his charges height, "that's... icky, you don't want to get sick do you?" Eclipse shook his head. KC smiled and patted Eclipse, "good boy" he turned to Harvest, "go join your Sibling downstairs, clean up that mess you left outside of the room" Harvest nodded and left with little complaint. KC grabbed Eclipses face, tilting it side to side, his hand rested on Eclipses forehead, his smile fell.

        "Stupid child" he lifted Eclipse off the ground, this time under the armpits, and set him against his chest. Eclipse's eyes drooped as Kill code walked out of the room and over to the teleportation pad.

[silasopossum]

just got the notification that my base is officially in transit to the USA, so im gonna discuss my plans for him rq :]

so basically, all my fursonas have historically been feline (once i got over my horse art phase. i was never really connected to my horse sona anyways). i WOULD have gotten a feline headbase, but the problem with that is very few makers specifically sell a BOBCAT base, it's usually a canadian lynx or domestic cat or lion or something. cool, but i love focusing on small details in species differences so it would bug me forever if i put my bobcat fursona on a canadian lynx base. the other issue is that if i DID make a fursuit for my bobcat sona, i would 100% want a realistic base, since her cartoony design changes so often. plenty of makers sell realistic 3d printed or resin bases, however i am NOT confident in my ability to transfer a realistic design onto a base myself (especially since most realism fursuits involve airbrushing. i dont think i could do that well in an ideal environment, much less my 115 square foot bedroom which is my only workspace). i just dont feel i would be able to do her justice... and i wouldnt really want a toony styled head for my actual fursona.

and making a base myself isn't an option because 1. i cant even sculpt clay symmetrically, it'd drive me crazy if i tried it and 2. aforementioned tiny apartment problems. im not dealing with foam going everywhere... OR learning how to 3d model and print or resin pour or whatever else people use to make fursuits.

so i was looking through makers just for funsies and then i found the opossum base by ligris cybernetics / ligrisprints. and idk why but every ounce of my impulsive body decided "YES. OPOSSUM FURSUIT. NOW." ive never even had an opossum fursona before so i have no idea why i was suddenly so sure about it. but i was! so i decided to just make a new character specifically for this project.

i decided on the name silas (at the URL implies) and i designed a quick character on the fly, based entirely off of photos of real opossums instead of already having an idea. this was interesting for me, since i didnt realize how common the white spots on opossum ears are? i always thought they were only black, but most photos i found showed a little bit of pink/white so i added it to the design

(quick sketch, drawn over the sale image on ligris cybernetics' website. i also loosely based this off of the stylization of my one other opossum character's design. the black bits under the eyes are going to be eyelashes, cut out of felt. the grey will PROBABLY be fur markings, but i might change that to black felt too)

opossums are also fairly easy to design, since they are typically recognizable with only two fur colors (white and grey), and their faces are usually mostly white. it'll be easier for me if i only have to buy two fur colors.

another thing i'm planning on is having handpaws- this will be easy since opossums always have naked fingers... so i'm planning on just buying a pair of fingerless gloves and adding fur to the glove part and leaving my fingers out. will be much easier to wear too

one thing im unsure of is how to fur a moving jaw... ill need to look up some tutorials for this. because i think if i dont add at least a little fur around the hinge, the mouth will look way too wide...

another small issue is that this maker tells tpu ears for basically any species EXCEPT opossums. so my plan is to buy some fosshape plastic and make ears out of that? ill also add minky fur OR felt to them to add the color patterns. i havent decided between the two yet, but i think painting the ears would look strange? even if it's technically more accurate for the real animal.

i also got some fur color swatches a few weeks ago. getting swatches from fursuitsupplies, i tried out baby pink monster, silver lux fox, super short white, silver beaver, and silver lux shag. i like the color of the silver lux fox best, but the texture of the lux shag seems better for an opossum character, so i'm unsure. the beaver feels nice but is too short for what i want the longer bits of fur to be. the super short is nice, but i will still probably get the fur all in one length and just shave it. the monster fur feels gross to touch so i'm definitely not using that. i already know what minky fabric is like so i didn't bother getting samples for that (but i probably will order samples when i decide concretely on what fur to get once the base comes in, just to be sure of the color before i spend money on it).

i'm thinking of covering the nose of the base with pink minky OR pink felt, but i'm not sure if that would work with the base, so i'll decide that once i actually get my hands on it. otherwise, i will be painting it. i also think i'm gonna make a tongue with minky fabric

tail will also be a thing. since opossum tails are prehensile, i want to make it posable... i thought about using plastic ball joints / doll spines, but i know from my longfurby adventures that those are kind of heavy, so i think i will use wire instead.

not gonna bother with a bodysuit, those sound hellish to walk around in. i'm just gonna wear long sleeves and long pants

another thing i an excited / nervous about is adding hair... i want silas to have hair. SPECIFICALLY revenge era gerard way hair

and i know a lot of fursuit makers create hair by putting together pulled-out yarn OR brushing out fur both ways... but i don't like how that looks. since if were meant to believe that a plush in the case of a fursuit tail is flesh, and fur is their actual skin/fur... then it's just like... amorphous globosus... or a gigantic skin tag / tumor... TO ME... many fursuits make this look amazing don't get me wrong but i just couldnt get it out of my head if it was on my own suit. so i decided that i'm going to try and weft the hair, like in this tutorial? https://www.tiktok.com/@chaoticreations/video/7334668616350092577 (sorry for tiktok link, i know this creator uploads to youtube but i couldn't find the short) and this one https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vo4FCmT1DP8 i'm thinking that depending on how i'm able to fur the head, i might be able to make a kind of wig thing that magnets on? i don't want to add the hair directly onto the head in case it looks like shit and i get tired of it, so i want it easily removable. might use velcro instead... also want it really long in the back.

i also got the eye mesh pre-installed on the head by the maker. which will be easy for me if i like it... however i DID request slit pupils and i'm second guessing that decision right now. i'm also unsure if i shouldve made them green instead of grey... but i guess i'll see it once it arrives :]

i also was JUST barely in the sizing for a "small" size head according to this maker, but just to be safe i ordered a "medium" size head instead. if it's to big (which it probably will be), i'm going to add foam inside, which will probably make it more comfortable anyways. iirc you can also use foam to hide the hinges in moving jaws? so i can just use the foam for that too. not sure yet.

and i already have sandpaper and stuff for sanding down the 3d print. just gotta wait for it to arrive... probably a month since it's gonna go from poland to the usa... if it gets lost in shipping i WILL cry (since mail people love to just not deliver to my apartment complex. because apartments are haaaaaaaard to deliver to (even though all the doors are easily accessible from the street with no key necessary)...)

[samspreviews]

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[phantomrose96]

Buds After the Frost

This was supposed to be a short warm-up writing exercise yesterday and then it got... longer. Enjoy!!

...

The doors opened for Maddie Fenton with a pneumatic hiss. Pressurized nitrogen released, splitting open the vacuum seal on the door as its twin halves slid apart, slotting into the wall-mounted sleeves. The nitrogen misted out, cold and dry, air currents catching in swirls around Maddie Fenton’s lab coat. Her feet thocked against hollow metal, amplified by the coldness and the vastness of the containment room beyond.

She paused short of the specimen’s cell, mindful attention drawn to the panel of controls nested rightmost against the wall. The monitor read out stats, tracked metrics of the specimen’s heartrate and blood oxygenation and blood pressure. Dials beneath the screens offered her means of interaction, manipulating the cage’s environment without needing to tamper with it by hand. She ignored these, as she had been ignoring them the entire time, and paid mind only to the single switch which would seal shut the doors behind her.

She pressed it. Another pneumatic hiss followed, locking out the world behind her. Her breath curled, cold. She and the specimen were alone.

“No coffee this morning?” he asked.

Maddie sat down at the control panel, elbow leaning against the dashboard for support. She turned to the cage. “No. One of the interns broke the pot last night. New one should be delivered today.”

Phantom let out a huff of air. “You mean in this whole gigantic mega-hyper-futuristic government lab, there’s nothing that can stand in as a coffee pot?”

“I wouldn’t stay employed long if I tried using equipment to brew coffee.”

“Use one of the big ectoplasm beakers. Ectoplasm washes out with soap and water. Just suds it up and throw it in the coffee maker. I’m an expert about these things.”

“It’s more about protocol.”

Phantom waved her off. “’Protocol.’ Bureaucracy is standing between you and a delicious cup of ectoplasmic coffee, Dr. Fenton.”

Maddie looked forward now, taking him in. He’d hovered to the front of the cell, translucent reinforced glass separating him from the rest of the lab. Green eyes shined above a cheeky smile, a dusting of loose white hairs falling over his eyes, the rest of his bangs swept slightly to the side. His tailed flickered, his aura pulsed, his vital readings blipped out steady, normal, healthy.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah?”

Maddie paused.

“Why are you still here?”

The ghost boy let out a small guffaw. He motioned his arms around him, hands waving. “I dunno. Maybe the big ghost-proof box I’m in has something to do with it?”

“The shield is down, Phantom,” Maddie answered quietly. She set her eyes to Phantom, investigating. “…I put it down last night. It’s down now. You knew this.”

Phantom took just a moment too long to react, eyebrows arching up. “Oh, huh! Nope I didn’t notice. I mean it’s not like I’m constantly throwing myself at the barrier to electrocute myself so no I just didn’t try getting past it last night so I didn’t notice.”

“Phantom,” Maddie said again, voice measured, words stern. “You saw me crank down the dial that controls the shield.”

“Well I don’t know what all those buttons and dials do.”

“Yes you do. You’ve been observing me since day 1. You knew.”

Phantom kicked back in the air, floating a fraction back and higher. “Well maybe I thought it was a trap, I dunno. Or maybe I just like to get in your head, you know? What unpredictable thing will Phantom do next! Gotta write another 200 equations about ghost theory to figure that one out, Dr. Fenton.”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not want to leave?”

“Oh I wanna leave.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“We’re having a conversation. That’d be rude.”

“Will you leave as soon as I exit the room?”

“Who knows?”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

Maddie stood. She left her chair and the control panel behind. She walked up to the specimen cage instead. It was cubic, a skeleton of metal bar ribbings with a metal mesh that plastered the glass sides like a membrane. The top anchored to the ceiling, the bottom—raised by about a foot—anchored to a pedestal on the floor. Maddie stared through the mesh into Phantom’s eyes.

“Is there anyone who realizes you’re missing?” she asked.

Phantom chewed on the question. “Nah. Well um, trick question, actually. Probably not. Assuming I do this right, then no one has even realized I’m gone.”

“Do what ‘right’?”

“You know that thing about Clockwork I explained?”

“You said he’s the ghost that controls time and reality.”

“Yeah. SUPER powerful.”

“And you said you …were from one of those other realities.”

Phantom nodded. “Maybe I touched some things in Clockwork’s lair I wasn’t actually allowed to touch. Jury’s still out on whether I’m in trouble for that or not. I’ve been a little too ‘stuck in this reality’ to know if Clockwork is pissed. But yeah, I got um, bopped into your reality instead of mine. So technically my reality is lacking me right now, and yeah there’s people there who’d know I’m missing.”

Phantom flipped upside-down, as though laying on his back. He rested his palms beneath his head, elbows out, suspended in an invisible hammock, head tilted far back so that he still stared at Maddie. “Especially since it’s been, what, a month that I’ve been gone?”

“2 weeks.”

“What? No way. I’ve been here absolutely forever it has to have been at least a month.”

“This is day 14 of your observation, Phantom.”

Phantom blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Anyway. Two weeks is still long enough to have a search party out on my butt. But whether or not that’s happened is up to – it’s kind of a Schrodinger thing. Because here’s my strategy. Assuming Clockwork hasn’t banned me from reality-hopping forever, I can just get him to send me back to my own reality at the precise moment in time I vanished. And then bam, no one ever knows I was gone. And it makes no difference whether I do that today, or next week, or next month. So assuming you eventually let me go, then I’m all set there.”

“You say that almost like you don’t care when it happens.”

“I dunno, more like I’m just not losing sleep over it. It’s not like I have a say in the matter. You do. I don’t.”

“Is the time you spend here just meaningless, to you?”

“I wouldn’t say meaningless. I’m still aging goddammit.”

“You’re a ghost.”

“I’m complex.” Phantom flipped right-side-up again. “If I start growing facial hair, send me back. I’m gonna have some awkward questions to answer if I show up again with a ghost beard suddenly.”

“…And what if I never send you back?” Maddie asked, careful with her words. “How does your plan work if you stay here forever? If I destroy you first?”

“Um. …It doesn’t, I guess.” Phantom set a hand to his chin, thinking. “Yeah um, please don’t do that. I don’t wanna worry my whole family like that.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“What part?”

“That you have a family.”

“I mean. I think that came up in Interrogation Session #3. Consult your notes.”

“I just have a hard time believing you.”

“Because I’m a ghost?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a complex ghost.”

“I know. You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

Silence filtered in between them.

“…What is your family like, Phantom?”

Phantom stiffened a fraction, his eyes finding Maddie’s and shifting away. “Oh, you know, family.”

“Do they exist here too?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from another reality, at least you’re claiming you are.”

“I gotta be. The me from this reality died 6 months ago, didn’t he?”

“The you from most realities is dead, Phantom. You’re a ghost.”

“A complex ghost.”

“The you from this reality was destroyed 6 months ago.”

“Which you validated with your own sciencey equipment, right? You said so! So you know I’m not lying. Unless you think I recombobulated myself from being a protoplasmic smear on the sidewalk.” Phantom caught himself, registering the flinch in Maddie’s body. He deflated a bit, eyes averted. “S-sorry. Inconsiderate phrasing.”

“Why?” Maddie asked, tone flat, blunt.

Phantom’s eyes shifted back. “Um. Just. You know. That accident was. There were um, you know—”

“Human causalities.”

Phantom squirmed. “We don’t have to talk about that, you know? No one wants to talk about that. Okay as a ghost I guess ‘talking about how I died’ is sort of a bit more normal, but this is weird yeah, ‘talking about how an alternate-me died permanently’? That’s morbid. No one wants to talk about that.”

“Okay then. You can go back to answering my previous question.”

“Um. I forget.”

“Does your family exist in this reality?”

“Um, well who really knows, you know? I had like a grand total of 20 minutes of freedom in this reality before you captured me, so, don’t ask me like I’m any kind of expert about your reality. What’s it matter?”

“I want to know if there’s anyone in this reality who’s mourning you.”

Phantom’s face schismed with surprise. His front dropped, and the first look of genuine emotion sank into his glowing eyes. “Woah… That’s um, weirdly nice, of you, I guess. Why do you… want to know?”

Maddie said nothing.

“I. Um. I think the answer is no? So don’t um. Worry about that. If you were worried? Which is weird. I’m the enemy, aren’t I? Evil spooky ghost to be studied?”

“I’m not so sure what you are…” Maddie answered. “I heard you got destroyed trying to save them.”

“The um… the human casualties?”

“Yes.”

“I said we don’t have to talk about that.”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Do you know who they were?”

“The… casualties?”

“Yes.”

“Come on we’re on a different topic now.”

“Do you know who they were?”

“I don’t—how’m I supposed to know? I don’t know how I died here, you know? You think I’ve got some kind of like… parallel-universe death vision?”

“So you don’t know?”

“N-no.”

“I have a different question, then.”

“Okay, good, because I haven’t been liking these previous ones.”

“Are you staying just to keep me company?”

Phantom faltered. He looked left, then right, hand scratching at his chin. “I’m staying because I’m in a ghost-proof box.”

“It’s not ghost-proof anymore. The shields are down.”

“I feel like you’re circling around some accusation I’m not smart enough to follow. This feels like entrapment.”

“Then I’ll be more direct.”

“Oh no there is an accusation.”

“I think you do know how you were destroyed in this universe, Phantom.” Maddie took a step forward, and she let her left hand touch the glass, eyes focused on her fingers. “I think you know what happened at the Nasty Burger.”

“That’s—um—the human food… consumption… location… that the local human adolescents meet at, yes?”

Maddie looked up, and she locked Phantom with her stare. He squirmed, and he relented.

“I um…” he continued. “I—yeah—yeah, okay? I know about the Nasty Burger accident. It was supposed to happen to me too in my reality but I—Clockwork—stopped it from happening in my reality.” Phantom glanced left, right, as if staring beyond the confines of his cage. “When I first got knocked into this reality, I went to go find the Fenton portal so I could try to refind Clockwork and fix this and… Well it wasn’t there. And I tried to find some people I know and… I checked out the library in case the Fentons just lived somewhere else and. I um. I found the articles.” His eyes focused on hers again. “They all say you were the only survivor, yeah…?”

“I was sick, that day. It was just a cold. My husband Jack went without me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It took my daughter and my son too.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“And it destroyed you.”

Phantom opened his mouth, but no words followed.

Maddie looked up.

“You knew this. You’ve known this ever since I captured you.” Maddie let her hand slide away from the glass. “Did you let me capture you?”

“Why would I let you capture me?”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

Phantom’s eyes flickered about, unwilling to meet hers. “…Nah. Nah. I don’t—come on ‘sorry’? I’m a ghost you know? Bane of humanity! We’re enemies. You were just too skilled a hunter and you captured me.”

“And yet you won’t leave.”

Phantom lapsed silent.

“I um… I wasn’t happy to read about—to know the, the thing at the Nasty Burger happened here, okay? That’s something that I kinda didn’t want to believe existed in any reality anymore, but I guess… And if you were still alive. I was… maybe just kind of happy to see you? That you were okay. And still hunting. That was kind of, like a small relief.” Phantom glanced away, back again. “I wasn’t evil, you know. In my reality or this one. I care about what happened to the Fentons…”

“You let me capture you. …And you did it because you thought it would be a nice thing for you to do for me.”

“I Just—I thought maybe, um… I mean when you phrase it like that. I mean what else could cheer up renowned ghost hunter Maddie Fenton quite like a ghost subject to study? Me, especially? The ghost boy or public enemy #1 or whatever. I’m fun, aren’t I?”

Silently, Maddie pushed away from Phantom’s cage. She moved to the control panel, stiff movements and numb fingers. She entered the release code into the console, and unslung the key from her neck to twist into the override, and she threw down each successive lever in the row of four lining the top of the mechanisms.

The scrape of glass sliding away sounded behind her. All four walls of Phantom’s enclosure dropped away, metal mesh sliding away piece-meal. Phantom stared at her, blinking, floating in place.

“You’re free to go, Phantom.”

“I—uh—well hang on, I don’t think the Guys In White would be too happy about that. You can’t just let me—”

“Go, Phantom.”

“They could like, fire you.”

“I don’t care about this job.”

“I—come on, you still wanna study me, don’t you? Chat with me? If you feel bad maybe just get me a couch and some video games for my cage then I’ll be—”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Go home to your family.”

The half-hearted smile dropped from Phantom’s face.

“Come on. You can’t just evict me on such short notice. I’m not ready for Clockwork to kick my ass so soon.”

“Go home.”

“I’m not in any rush! I like talking to you. Don’t you—don’t you like talking to me too? In like a scientific way?”

Maddie lowered herself into the chair by the control panel. She leaned forward, arms pooled in her lap, eyes to the floor. “You have a family to get back to, Phantom.”

“It’s—there’s time travel shenanigans! Like I said they don’t even know I’m gone.”

“Every single day, Phantom,” Maddie looked up, eyes stern, “…I wish every single day that my own family would just come back home. I won’t do the same to you. I won’t do the same to your family.”

Phantom said nothing. A somber acceptance sunk into his eyes.

“They’re… alive, you know. In my dimension.”

Maddie dropped her head, and she blinked away the wetness in her eyes.

“I actually… in my dimension I’m kind of closer to the Fentons than I think the, the Phantom in this dimension was. It’s… complex.”

Maddie said nothing. Silence built between them.

“Jazz is um… Jazz is applying for colleges, y-you know. She got in early-acceptance to Yale but um, we all—they all—visited Columbia last month and I think that’s what she wants the most. I can see Jazz in New York City. I think she’d rock it.”

Maddie blinked again. Tears plicked into her lap.

“…Should I stop?”

“Jack… Tell me about Jack.”

“Oh. Yeah he um… big and goofy as ever. He’s got some kind of eight-armed-octogun he’s working on. I know because I was his target practice, involuntarily by the way. He keeps trying to merge “Fenton” and “octopus” together with mixed results. We—Mo-addie—you… are still trying to talk him out of ‘Fentoctopus’.”

Maddie’s ribcage shuddered, a repressed sob, a repressed laugh.

“And Danny?”

“Danny… um… Danny is...” Phantom’s shoulders fell a little bit. He looked away, and then back at Maddie. “He loves you. I know that.”

Maddie blinked, and blinked again, and her eyes wouldn’t clear.

“And are they happy?”

“They’re happy.”

“Am I happy…?”

“You’re…” Phantom’s tail bounced. “You’re happy, I think. I like to think so. I think you’re very happy. You have a great family.”

Maddie nodded.

“Now go.”

“But I still—”

Maddie reached forward, and she grabbed the ecto-gun propped against the control panel. She lifted it into her shoulder, and flicked the safety, and the charge built along the rising whine.

“Go.”

Phantom balked. He blinked. He kicked away from his wall-less cage. “Not forever. I’ll be back. You won’t be alone here forever.”

He was gone.

And Maddie was alone again.

…

Clockwork surveyed the boy in front of him whose head was bowed nearly to the floor, white bangs trailing along cobblestone, hands clasped, apologies repeated, begging case made.

Clockwork ran a hand along his beard, which unfurled, drew back, undid itself with the shifting of his form to a simple child.

“So let’s see. You have the audacity to break my rules andbeg me to meddle on your behalf in the time stream, all in the same breath? Apologies don’t usually come with additional requests for favors.”

“I know,” Danny’s head dipped lower. “You can punish me however you want for touching the restricted timelines but you have to help it, or let me help this one timeline. Please, please just send me back to the Nasty Burger incident so I can save it.”

“It’s already been saved.”

Danny faltered. He looked up.

“You died at the Nasty Burger incident that night,” Clockwork elaborated, form shifting older. “There is no you to ruin that future. That timeline is safe. It’s a very lucky timeline.”

Danny blinked. “N-no. No that’s not what I mean. Save it like you saved my timeline.”

“That did happen. You’re describing your own timeline.”

“I mean do it to THAT one.”

“You are misunderstanding timelines.”

Danny lapsed silent. Worry bled into his eyes, and Clockwork sighed.

“There is no undoing timelines, Danny. There is only forking them by meddling in the stream. All futures and pasts you witness exist, and do exist, and continue to exist,” Clockwork paused, “with the exception of realities I needed to cull, to prevent utter catastrophe.” His gaze fixed on Danny. “The futures that your evil self destroyed, I did have to cull. And culling a reality is not to be done lightly.”

Clockwork motioned with his staff. “There were a handful of surviving realities that I was able to save. That room you meddled in without my permission—they contain the realities off the main track where, for one reason or another, something else succeeded at destroying your future self. …Your own deaths, in fact. In every one of those realities, Danny, you are dead.”

“I don’t…” Danny shook his head. “So then just tell me how to save that one I was in, okay?”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

“How?”

“You don’t.”

Danny said nothing. Clockwork shifted young.

“You can let it live on in that room, or you could ask me to cull it, Danny. You could ask me to cull every reality in that room, so that the main branch, the one you’re from, is the only reality in existence. So you never have to worry about any existence where your family is unhappy. And it will be that way until you, or I, or someone else, meddles with the timestreams again, and more splits occur.”

Still, Danny said nothing. Clockwork continued.

“Sometimes, a mass culling of realities is healthy for the tree of time, like pruning a plant down to its stalk to survive an unforgiving winter, or a terrible disease. But I did that, just recently, to save all of time from the blight of your future self. It would feel cruel to snip off the first buds that have come after the frost.”

Danny lowered himself to the floor.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Just. I have a different question then.” He looked up, a young devastation wet in his eyes. “Can I still go back and visit that reality, sometimes?”

“No. I cannot give you permission to do that.”

“Please!”

Clockwork spun his staff. A portal swirled into being in the space between him and Danny. Washes of color formed patterns, shapes, objects, images. Like a mirror, it reflected Clockwork’s lair beyond its shimmering surface.

“This is a portal back into your own reality. It is set to the location and the time that you vanished. Go there, and leave through the Fenton portal, and nothing will be amiss.”

“No. No no I won’t. Clockwork you have to let me—”

“I am doing you a favor, Danny, getting you home after you caused more trouble. Do not make further demands of me.” Clockwork curled forward, old, sallow skin sagging, and he turned his back to Danny.

“You have to give me permission—”

“I am the only one who has permission to meddle in realities, Danny. This is an absolute.” Clockwork glanced over his shoulder. “And because this is an absolute, I have no reason to have a lock on the room housing those budding other realities.”

Danny blinked.

“I wonder if anyone might break my rules anyway. I wonder if anyone might be nosy, and enter that room anyway, and water the plants in that greenhouse without my permission.” Clockwork stared forward again.

“Clockwork…”

“Luckily I am the master of all time. I would be able to see this coming. And maybe plan for it. If ever such a person would come into my lair, and meddle in my timelines, and try to spread a bit of his own kindness to the realities he couldn’t quite save, I would be fully prepared to stop him.” Clockwork spoke into the green abyss beyond him. “Unless, maybe, I were to accidentally have my back turned.”

Silence trailed after Clockwork’s words. He kept his back to Danny, staring into the abyss of swirling green ether beyond.

“…Thank you,” Danny answered, quietly. “I’ll be back.”

“I imagine you will. Those realities may get lonely without you.”

When Clockwork glanced back over his shoulder, both Danny and the portal were gone.

[christall77]

~❦Dear friend of mine❦~

|M!Genie x F!Reader|

It sure has been a while since I've posted something huh ._.

I was scrolling through my phone today since I recently got a new one and found this in one of my folders, so I thought why not share it? (⁠ノ⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠)⁠ノ

I hope I did good enough with this one (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

There is not enough Genie stories around in my opinion, so here you go

Also anyone who recognizes or knows who this character's appearance is heavily based of/inspected by, here's a cookie 🍪~

Anyway enjoy (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

WARNING: SOME SWEARING

Part 2: Click

"Thank you! Please do come again!", thanking the seller as well, you take the bag full of snacks and other tasty treats from the man and continue your way through the different stalls. The wonderful different scents of all kinds of fresh made foods wafts through the air and into your nose each breath you take in.

Finally after a rough day at school you got to go home and enjoy the weekend, all cozied up in a nice blanket, watching all your favorite shows with all the nice treats you just bought for yourself in the local outdoor market.

The market opens only for a week before you have to wait for another three more until you're able to go there again. And you won't miss this opportunity on getting the best self made caramel candies from old granny Lauren.

She always gives those out to her costumers after buying one or more of her many different knick knacks she found and collected. Where she finds these things has always been a mystery to you, she never gave you a proper answer. Mostly because she actually forgot where she picked a certain thing up.

Your (e/c) eyes spot the familiar older woman, wearing her grey hair in a bun and red rimmed glasses sitting upon her nose, cleaning some of her newest collections with a feather duster.

With a smile you greet her, "Good afternoon Ms. Lauren!", "Hello dear, back from school I assume? Did you have fun?". Giving you one of her own sweet smiles she places her duster away and turns her attention towards you. A small sigh escapes through your lips, as your gaze flickers briefly to the ground. "The usual?", with a nod of confirmation to her question you continue. "Today was actually not as bad as usual. Luckily, I have a few more weeks and exams to go and then I'm out of there."

Lauren hums along with your words as she puts the caramel candies in one of her colorful boxes, while you're checking out her newest collection. The things ranging from colorful jewelry, figures to all other kinds of stuff. But one of them seems to stand out to you the most, a lamp. It looks dark and dusty, unlike the colorful nesting dolls standing in front of it.

Your (e/c) gaze lingers on the object, feeling oddly drawn to it as if it's pulling you towards it. "Ooh are you looking at the oil lamp dear? I can't really recall where got it... But I thought I might as well just sell it off. I tried lighting it up but it didn't work. Maybe you can find some use for it."

Snapping out of whatever just happened you began pondering a little on wether or not to buy it.

At the end you decide to take it, along with a few bracelets you liked. "I will be taking these and the lamp Ms. Lauren.", "Good joice my dear, I'll give you a discount for buying the lamp. And here are the caramel candies you like so much." She hands you a small plastic bag with the candies, bracelets and the dark lamp inside, offering you another kind smile.

"Are you sure? I can pay the lamp as well.", you already know she's going to reject your offer, yet you still ask her whenever you're visiting her stall. 'Oh well. Can't complain if I'm getting something cheaper! Not to mention free candy!', you think as you hand her the money. The both of you say your goodbyes and you finally make your way back home.

The sun is starting to set once you make it to the doorstep of the apartment, the vibrant hues of red and purple slowly fading in the distance as the sun vanishes behind the buildings and horizon.

A soft gust of wind blowing through your (h/c) hair. You enjoyed watching those in the past and you still do, but you're just too tired at the moment. Things change after all. Once you finally made it to your room, you pull off your (f/c) jacket and shoes, before placing your bags on the small table standing in front of your couch.

Not wasting any more time you throw yourself on the couch and grab a blanket, wrapping yourself up like a borito. You reach for the remote and turn on one of your favorite shows on Netflix, your other hand shuffling through the small plastic bag to grab the box of delicious candy and plop them into your mouth after opening the pink lid. And if you already started taking out some stuff out of one bag, why not everything? You thought to yourself. Placing the bag of treats aside you take the other and pick out the bracelets, until your fingers brush against the cold surface of the oil lamp.

Carefully grabbing it with both hands you turn it around to get a better look at it, some of the dust particles which haven't come off yet clinging onto your fingertips and palms. "Great. Let's get you cleaned first before I make more of a mess here." You sigh as you quickly stand up and get a wet cloth to clean the lamp with.

Starting with the nozzle you work your way around it, admiring the details of the engravings and the golden shine it gets back after getting properly cleaned. One red gem sitting at the nozzle and another close to the base of the handle.

"It looks like one of those magic lamps someone would find in movies or shows. Huh... It's pretty. I wonder if an actual Genie would come out after I rub it." Chuckling at the idea you quickly dismiss that thought.

There's no way something like that is ever going to happen. It's not a fantasy story after all. As you trace the golden rim that strange feeling that seemed to pull you towards this item from before comes flooding back and you have this strange desire to actually rub the lamp. And that's what you do.

At first nothing seems to happen after you snapped out of it once again, rubbing your temple from this weird occurrence. 'What's wrong with me today?! Have I slept even less than usual? No it can't be, I'm sure it was four hours. Or was it just two?' But then the metal in your hand begins to heat up.

Interrupting your train of thought and resulting your hand to toss it away, the lamp landing back on the table. The lid starts to shake and all of the sudden dark grey smoke starts spewing out of the nozzle, rising up towards your white ceiling.

Your (e/c) widen in shock, not having any idea of what's going to happen you quickly hide behind your couch to take cover, just peaking over the backrest to witness what's about to happen next.

"W-What the hell is happening!?", you squeal in fear when suddenly a loud and powerful explosion goes off from the nozzle. The floor and furniture shaking, making you clutch onto the couch for support, the sheer force making you shake in your kneeling position as well. Fully taking cover you tightly close your eyes, your arms above your head. Your legs tremble underneath you, and only then when you're feeling sure enough that everything was over after a long moment of silence you take another peek.

"Greetings Mortal. You have rubbed the lamp and released me, the heavens have been opened and your wishes will be granted!"

There floating in the middle of your living room is a young, lean and fairly muscular looking man with long black hair segmented in a single ponytail, which reaches down to his ankles. He's wearing a white scarf on his shoulders, underneath it a black choli with golden hems, black harem pants and golden bangle bracelets that extend from his elbows to his wrists, as well as a golden bangle necklace with a ruby in the center.

His booming voice falling silent when his red ringed eyes fell upon your form that's slowly rising up from your hiding spot, staring in shock and bewilderment at the being you just released. "Ah... A peasant girl. Well that should be over quick and easy.", he quietly mutters to himself in a normal voice now, holding his chin in thought. You did catch every bit of it though, which makes you feel just a little bit offended. Sure you're not the richest person alive but still.

He quickly puts on a smug grin and floats over to you, his voice once again gaining on volume. "I see you're still speechless, I don't blame you. It's not everyday you'll get your hands on a magical lamp like this. With one of the most powerful beings on earth!", disappearing and reappearing behind you, he shoves his lamp into your grasp while one of his hands rests on your left shoulder, his face on your right a little to close for comfort. His dark strands tickling your (s/c) cheek.

"You are the one who released me right?", he asks, dark eyebrows raised in question. "Uhm yes?", you're confused.

How is it possible? You thought things like that only existed in stories or legends, or fairytales. Never in your life would you have ever expected to meet a real Genie in your apartment room. Let alone ever awakening one yourself. So you couldn't help but ask and prod at him, just to make sure you're not imagining things as you pull on his cheeks.

"Are you really a real Genie? I'm not dreaming right, where are the cameras? This must be some kind of prank right? Some silly joke the neighbors must've set up!"

The pale skinned male winces from the sudden uncalled for gesture and with a grunt he pulls himself away. "I assure you not!", he growls out, his words echoing as he speaks and rises up behind you gaining in size, glaring you down with his burning gaze.

"YOU, are my master now. And I, grant three wishes to the one who has rubbed the magic lamp. Do you want to be famous? Powers you could only imagine in your wildest dreams? Unendless amounts of riches? Just tell me anything what you wish for and it all shall be yours." he exclaims a hint of annoyance lacing on the whole 'whishes' part.

"Now, that we got that cleared up. Wish away.", you blink up at him at his sudden change of demeanor. His menacing aura now replaced once again in a blink of an eye. A grin once again adorning his handsome face, while waiting expectantly for you to make a wish as he wiggles his fingers. Dark sparkles dancing around them. Sure, if you were a Genie trapped inside a lamp in like maybe hundreds of years and only being able to get out of there when granting someone's wishes, you would not be feeling any better than this man.

He seems rather determent on getting over with your wishes, but wouldn't that mean he will just quickly end up in that lamp again? You also don't want to waste your wishes on simple things you can just solve yourself.

"So... You are a real Genie.", "Yes.", "And I get three wishes.", "That's what I just told you, yes." The being is slowly starting to get impatient. Why haven't you made your first wish yet?! Back then people knew about the existence of him and didn't need a whole ass explanation. Everyone else before you knew what they wanted and didn't waste any of his time! His frown only increases when you're about to ask another question, disappearing in a cloud of grey smoke he reappears once more a few feet in front of you, shrunken back to his normal size.

With a strained laugh he interrupts you, "Look, peasant girl. I don't have time or patience for all your questions and neither am I here to be your friend." You put your hands on your hips like a mother lecturing her child, "Ok. First of all, I'm not a peasant, also I didn't ask you to become my friend! I won't just call anyone my friend, you have to earn my friendship to become a real one. But if you want to, we can try being friends." He opens his mouth but closes it once again, caught of guard by your offering.

"Wait what...", he stutters, "W-Whatever! I don't need friends..", huffing he crosses his arms before continuing. "Are you going to wish for something or not?"

With a soft sigh you say, "Not yet.", "Not yet?", the genie repeats, letting out a bitter laugh.

"Listen carefully, I was inside this lamp for over thousand of years, served at least more than 20 masters up until now. They knew what they wanted and wished. Boom! Back in the lamp I went every single time having all the sweet time alone, by myself, in peace!", then he points an accusing finger at you, "And now you come along and can't even think of a single wish! Anyone has a wish! Everybody has something they oh so dearly want or desire! So the sooner we get this over with the better."

The being has a point, everyone could think of at least one thing they could wish for. This doesn't change your mind at all though.

You ponder, it sounded like he has no problem at all being trapped in this object, in fact he prefers to be alone in there. But wouldn't someone who's been trapped for this long at least try to be free? You're curious. After all, he did turn a bit more sour, more than he already was, when telling you this. Yet you did not let yourself get affected.

"Is there anything I can't wish for? I mean there must be something like consequences if someone can wish for pretty much anything right?" you ask, tilting your head towards him when you notice him eyeing your tv, having given up on convincing you for now. "Oh right I didn't tell you that did I?" With a shake of your head no he holds his hand up counting off the rules. "In short, no wishing for more wishes, no creating or ending life, and you also cannot effect free will. Meaning you can’t make a person feel a certain way with a wish. Other than that there are no consequences, I'm not that mean you know.", he puffes out his cheeks in a pout looking at you.

You thank him for explaining to you, it's better than not knowing about it and you feel better with that out of the way. The being already figured out it will take way longer than he initially thought, looks like he has to get comfortable with staying with you for some time longer.

Well that's a first.

He just hopes he won't get to attached to you. It's been so long ever since he had someone else to interact with let alone have someone as a friend after all. The ravenette has to admit, he did feel surprised and even happy when you offered your friendship. Not that he will ever tell you out loud.

"I'm (Y/n) by the way. It's nice meeting you and having you as my... uh well Genie. What's your name?", your hand reaches out towards him ready for a handshake, his red orbs gazing into your (e/c) ones. Name? All previous masters referred to him as either Genie or slave. None of them asked for his name before, and those who did either forgot it or didn't care afterwards. Reluctantly he places his hand into yours.

"Dhabruan."

[shirecorn]

how about 17 and 24? what inspires you and how do you deal with art block?

Long post warning.

Art block...

I don't actually get art block, which is probably a combination of neurodivergence and drawing every day for the last 3 years

I wrote an entire tutorial about how to do that, but didn't feel like illustrating it. Would people want to read it even without visuals?

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

There's a couple different types of art block, and it's really just a philosophy puzzle to get past them. I'm going to assume that the things I think of slow days, or art mud, is a milder form of art block and work through that.

Art block is a symptom, not a disease. You probably have something deep inside that you don't want to face, or don't know how. Sometimes you need to discover the cause, sometimes just power through.

Method 1: Rest

Let yourself just Exist. The act of consuming art is part of the process. Watching shows and playing games, taking a break and going gardening or focus on school. This is what you need for burnout-induced art block.

Method 2: Action

I always choose action, sometimes it means a tiny 2 min sketch per day. Ugly or super simplified. As long as I don't stop moving.

Toss everything. Start every piece thinking you will throw it away.

The act of drawing moves you forward; pinning it to the fridge does not. Don't work things until they are perfect. Work them until they are there.

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

Not sure what to draw, nothing seems appealing. Art won't come out like it used to.

Do studies from life or photos. Sketch, paint, digital, traditional, doesn't matter. Rocks, fruit, figure drawing, landscapes, buildings, anything.

Study and copy professional's work. Old masters are best, like rubens, michalangelo (only his men tho) etc because they will teach you anatomy while you work. If you copy someone with a lot of flaws, you will repeat those flaws.

Trace to learn, not to earn. Trace photography and art from anyone you want. Don't post it unless you have the artist's permission or they are dead, whichever comes first. This is strictly work for yourself, on yourself. It's not about the finished drawing.

Find an artist with a fun style and try converting stuff into their style. Don't make that your new style though and especially don't start selling it. Your style is a chimera of everyone you love, not a clone of one person.

Take blurry photos. You don't need a fancy camera or good skills or beautiful subjects. Doing studies from your own photos can spark life into your workflow.

Make challenges for yourself. Randomly generate things to combine. Try fusing characters! Don't try to make it look good, just be fun.

Doodle patterns, swirls, lines, random stuff. Try looking up art warmups and doing some of those.

- Everything Sucks

You finally see how bad you are. Or somehow you got worse. Every piece is a fight and you spend hours trying to get something right only for it to be stiff and disgusting and STILL wrong.

Why are you trying to draw good? It's enough just to draw.

Accept that your art is bad. Every artist can see flaws in their work. Your problem is that those flaws outweigh anything remotely worthwhile and hurt to look at.

So what? You're in a period of growth, not a period of production. Keep that wonky second eye. Let them have hot dog fingers.

Show everyone! Show no one! No piece of art can ever be a reflection of the artist. Not their worth, not their skill. The only thing your art says about you is "Held and moved a pen for a bit."

Make bad art. It's ok. Most of the time, the pressure to perform and get things Right is what made them wrong in the first place. Relax.

- No Motivation

The #1 killer of artists everywhere. On some level you think you should draw, on every other level you think you should stay in bed.

You are not lazy. You wouldn't have read this far in a post about art block if you were lazy. You wouldn't CALL it art block if you were lazy. Laziness is wishing you didn't have to do anything. A block is wishing you were doing something. If you think you can namecall Yourself into productivity again, you're wrong and You need to unionize so that you don't treat You like that anymore.

Consider Mental Illness. Losing interest in something that brought you joy can be a symptom of depression. I know it seems obvious, but if you're waiting for a sign that it's "bad enough," it's bad enough. Seek care if you have the means. Forgive yourself if you already know this.

Selfcare. Examine yourself for neglect. Nutrition, exercise, enrichment, social need, and sleep are all part of the art process. Eat three meals and sleep 8 hours. That's your gaymer fuel. You deserve it, I promise. Depriving yourself of your needs will make your blocks worse, not kick you into making them better.

Identify potholes. Sketchbook falling apart? Tablet cord frayed? Half your pencils missing? Chair uncomfortable? Desk hard to reach? There's a lot of things that you tell yourself to work around and get over. Just because you CAN workaround something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. A difficult work environment can cause secret dread deep inside that you don't recognize and just think you're lazy. What you think of as "no motivation" might actually be "I don't want to deal with my tablet disconnecting every time I move it wrong and I have to wiggle it for a few seconds to make it work again." These little things are like potholes in the road. Sure you CAN still drive through them, but eventually you're going to look up and realize you haven't voluntarily left the house in weeks.

Repair potholes and roadblocks. You might feel bad about buying a new pencil, headphones, tablet, car, etc because technically the old one works if you hustle. But if you're running into so many potholes you've ground to a halt, it doesn't Actually work anymore, does it? Invest, save up, request, and require working equipment and suitable conditions. This stuff isn't just cushy privilege, it's an investment in yourself and your art. You are worth the effort it takes to clear the way. If you can't afford reliable (reliable! not perfect or luxurious) equipment, then say it. If cardboard is all you can afford, draw on cardboard. But know that you deserve canvas, and one day you might be able to make the jump. Acknowledge that sometimes, if you don't have it in you to smear burned twigs on wet cardboard, the problem isn't motivation, but opportunity.

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

A unique type of art block that self perpetuates. The thought of starting again is so stressful you can't do it. Or maybe you'll do it tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow for sure.

Face your fears. Are you ashamed of your lack of drawing? Are you anthropomorphizing your paper and thinking it's going to judge you, like "oh NOW you come back >:/" I internalize voices I hear and project them onto other people, concepts, locations, and inanimate objects. Your paper, computer, WIPs folder.... none of that is judging you.

Reframe your WIPs. Do you feel shame when you see "unfinished" projects? Why? Who says you MUST bring everything you start to Finish? You don't have to. A sketch is a finished art piece; it's called a sketch! If a sketch is a fully realized creation, pages that are half colored, 75% lined, or partially rendered are all fully realized creations too. Unless paid otherwise, art is done when you're done working on it.

Lower the stakes. Draw a chibi or grab some crayons. Get messy and slowly ease yourself back into the flow over the course of a couple days. It's fine.

Get a buddy! Find an art meme, do an art trade, get a study subject, or just wing it. Drawing art alongside someone can help you get past that block.

Pretend you never stopped. Don't think about the gap, how long it's been, or rustiness. As far as anyone knows, you drew the mona lisa yesterday and didn't break a sweat. Today, you drew a starfish on your hand with a gel pen. Keep up that streak, good job!

Just keep drawing. Make a goal to do one sucky drawing per day on the back of a napkin. Don't make up for missed days, just pretend they didn't happen. Who's going to judge you? The calendar? That's pieces of paper; it doesn't have an opinion. Draw a cat on it. Done. Keeping up the momentum is a great way to prevent art blocks in the future.

TLDR: Draw imperfectly and toss it. Selfcare is king. Draw often and don't judge yourself.

Art is a process, not a product.

[cherienymphe]

Crave (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, vampire!Peter, bloodplay, mentions of animal cruelty, mentions of murder, mentions of X-Men characters

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

divider provided by @/k1tty4rk

summary: when Peter goes missing while on a mission, he’s not exactly himself when he returns. His appetite is a little different now, and you soon find out that he’s hungry for more than just blood

~

You should’ve known that something was wrong when your phone went off at nearly 3 in the morning. No one ever called you that late, not even Peter. Your best friend was more likely to slip through your window if he needed something. Groggy with fatigue, it took you a moment to realize that you had not plugged your phone up before going to sleep like you thought, and that it was instead in your sheets somewhere. 

“Hello?” you finally grumbled, eyes still closed as you wondered just who in the world was calling you.

“Kid, it’s Tony. Is Peter with you?”

You were suddenly wide awake, blinking your eyes open as you forced yourself to sit up.

“No…? I thought… Isn’t he on a mission?”

Worry began to bleed into your heart, and it only increased at Tony’s words.

“He was, yeah.”

You threw the covers off of you, hurriedly sliding out of bed as you searched for some shoes.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The older man sighed, and you noted that his voice shook a little bit. You froze, heart dropping into your stomach as the severity of whatever was going on registered. Tony Stark was worried.

“He was supposed to check in 2 days ago. He was supposed to be back today. Neither of those things have happened.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Your pitch had risen, and you didn’t bother to mask your fear. 

“I don’t have much time to explain. Capsicle and Robocop are coming with me to see if we can find him. We’re leaving shortly, but my coordinates show that he’s still in Bulgaria. That’s where we sent him. We just haven’t heard a word from him and can’t seem to get in touch with him.”

You could hear things going on in the background, and you figured that they were only moments away from leaving. Your stomach churned, and you felt like you might be sick. If Tony Stark with all of his gadgets and resources couldn’t get ahold of Peter, then something was really wrong.

“Look, I have to go. If he shows up there, let us know immediately.”

He hung up before you had the chance to tell him that you were coming straight to the compound. You stared at your phone for a bit, brows drawn together as you processed this news. You hadn’t thought anything of it when you hadn’t heard from Peter in a few days. He wasn’t a kid anymore, had graduated college alongside you only last year, so his presence on the team was needed a lot more. His missions were less juvenile, so losing touch for a week at a time was nothing new.

As you threw on a coat to combat the biting New York air, you tried not to dwell on the worst. It couldn’t be helped though, and as soon as you stepped into your apartment hallway, shoulder grazing your door, tears filled your eyes. If Tony could see where Peter currently was...and he wasn’t able to get in touch with him...then that meant he was dead right? You shook your head, locking your door and tightening your fingers around your purse. There could be so many reasons for that. It didn’t mean he was dead.

The entire drive to upstate New York was a quiet one. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to fill the car with mind-numbing music to distract you. Your fingers were tight on the wheel, legs so tense that when you finally arrived at the compound, they actually hurt when you stepped out of the car. You leaned your back against the vehicle, the warmth seeping through your coat, and you released an unsteady breath.

You had known Peter since high school, easily finding a place with him and Ned, and eventually, MJ too. When Ned and MJ took their college education elsewhere, you had remained. You told yourself it was to save money, a partial truth, but you never wanted to admit that it was also to stay by Peter’s side. You couldn’t imagine being away from him. It was pathetic really, but Peter was more than some guy you loved. He was your best friend.

“I had a feeling you’d show up here.”

The familiar voice reached your ears, and you looked up at Wanda just as she floated down next to you. Her auburn hair was ruffled with a gentle breeze, her eyes sympathetic as she reached out to pull you into her side.

“They will find him,” she assured you.

You could hear Sam on the phone as soon as she guided you inside of the compound, and he sent you a tense smile and wave, which you returned. You could faintly hear other voices as well, and you figured that everyone who stayed back was wrapped up in doing whatever they could to get in contact with Peter. You felt helpless.

“What can I do?” you asked Wanda, already knowing the answer.

“Just be here,” she told you, making you sigh.

“Wanda…”

You gave her a reproachful look, and she smiled at you.

“We know you’re worried just like the rest of us, probably even more than the rest of us,” you swallowed at her knowing look. “...but everything will be okay. The last thing we need is you putting yourself in harm’s way or bursting a blood vessel.”

You nodded, heeding her words. You made your way to your room with a heavy heart. You were far from being a member of the team, you could barely throw a proper punch, but seeing as you came over so often with Peter, sometimes in the dead of night, Tony decided to have you a room put in. Right next to Peter’s.

One of his old college sweatshirts was on your desk, still there from the last time you borrowed it, and without thinking, you got undressed and put it on. It still smelled like him, and with the scent of your best friend filling your nose, you laid down and sought out sleep.

The next day brought bad news. They had found Peter’s suit, but no Peter. It explained his stationary location and their lack of success with getting in touch with him. You had just stepped into the door of the room when Tony told them, his virtual face wracked with fear and worry, something you weren’t used to seeing.

You could tell that you weren’t meant to hear the news just yet by the way Nat’s eyes widened when she finally noticed you. The rest of the team turned as she hurriedly rose, making her way to you just as your face crumbled.

“Y/N-.”

“Wh-what does that mean? What does he mean?”

Tony’s voice faded as she pulled you from the room, and you almost tripped over your feet as your legs shook.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s going to be okay,” she said, attempting to calm you.

“What does he mean by that? Why doesn’t he have his suit- where is he?”

You were in your room now, and she shushed you as she guided you to your bed. You sat down, staring at your feet as your brain whirled. You hadn’t realized how fast your heart was beating, and your whole body shook as you fought to process this news.

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled, more to yourself than the spy before you.

She came into your vision as she knelt before you, her hands taking yours.

“Me neither,” she mumbled.

You fingered Peter’s shirt. You were still wearing it, just with some jeans, and Nat observed the movement.

“How long?” she quietly asked.

She didn’t need to elaborate. You knew what she was asking.

“Since…” you shrugged, releasing a heavy breath. “...practically since forever.”

“Does he know?”

You sadly shook your head. She pursed her lips, red hair framing her face as she studied you.

“We’re going to find him, and when we do, you can tell him. Okay?”

You nodded.

“Okay,” you quietly replied.

Nat didn’t stay for long, and you guessed that she needed to get back to the team to plan the best course of action. You barely left your room for the rest of the day, not having much of an appetite nor energy for anything. It was late in the evening when you found yourself making your way to Peter’s room. You lost count of how many times you slept in here, but Peter was usually with you, and if not, he at least showed up at some point. You liked waking up to the sound of his soft snores.

It felt weird with him gone, even weirder when you accounted for the fact that you didn’t know when he’d be back. If he’d be back. Your face almost crumbled at the thought, and you laid down, grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it to your chest, unable to stop the tears that spilled over, no matter how much you tried.

You slept in his room for days, and for days there was still no sign of him. The team was beyond worried now. You knew it, no matter how much they tried to portray otherwise. They were getting restless and scared. You couldn’t exactly say that you were any different though.

Sleep was hard to find, and even when you did, you found yourself tossing and turning throughout the night. Every time you woke up, you kept hoping that he’d be there, that you’d hear his voice. You were met with a dark empty room each time though, and it always broke your heart. After Peter had been missing for 8 days, Wanda finally came to you.

“I think you should go home,” she told you.

You were sitting cross legged on Peter’s bed, and she sat before you, hands in her lap with her feet on the floor. You frowned at her, wondering if you had overstayed your welcome, but she continued.

“It’s not that we don’t want you here, because you know we love having you around, but… You do not look good, Y/N.”

You squirmed under her concerned stare, clearing your throat.

“I’m fine,” you quietly argued.

“You’re not, and that’s okay. You just...you look exhausted and worried, and you’ve lost weight. A considerable amount in such a short time. What would Peter think if he came back right now and saw that you weren’t properly taking care of yourself?” she wondered.

Guilt flooded you, and you reluctantly nodded.

“I know that being here brings you some comfort, but I don’t think it’s worth the toll it’s taking on you.”

Your shoulders sagged, and you reluctantly admitted that she was right. You wanted to be near Peter in any way you could, but constantly waiting and listening out for any news was stressing you out.

“Go home. Sleep in your own bed. Get some rest. You can always come back,” she said.

“Okay.”

So, you did. You took a shower as soon as you made it back to your apartment, finding another one of Peter’s shirts he’d left. You forced yourself to at least eat something of substance, and when you had all you could take, you made a cup of tea. You had tried to watch tv, but funnily enough, the news was reporting on a crime that Spider-Man’s had helped solve months ago. Unable to stomach it, you turned the tv off and opted for bed.

Strangely enough, you were able to sleep better in your own bed. It happened quickly, and you didn’t toss or turn much. The first time you floated back to consciousness, it must have been around 3 in the morning. It was the longest you’d slept in days, and you knew that you’d be drifting back soon. However, you faintly noted that goosebumps had erupted over your skin, like you were cold.

Considering it was cold outside, you kept your heater blasting.

You blinked, staring at your window. It was closed, but the curtains were parted, and you could see that it was snowing outside. For the first time in days, a small smile tugged at your lips, and with a sigh, you rolled over. A dark figure was standing beside your bed, and the scream that you let out echoed through the apartment, filled with terror.

You fought back against them as they reached for you, struggling to get away and move further back on the bed. Their hands were cool, like they’d been outside for a while with no gloves. You were sitting up, pushing against them when they reached over and flicked on your lamp. When light flooded the room, your eyes widened.

Peter stood before you, dressed casually in dark clothes and looking completely unharmed. You sharply inhaled, all of your breath leaving you as your lips parted, eyes welling with tears. You blinked a few times, feeling like you might have been dreaming, but Peter remained. You reached out to him with shaking hands, and your vision had started to blur.

“Hey, breathe. Breathe, Y/N,” he softly ordered, brows furrowed.

You did as he said, and your chest burned as you moved closer. You slid off of the bed, moving to stand up, but your legs were unsteady. Peter caught you just as you fell into his arms, wrapping your own around him. You buried your face into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt, and he enveloped you in his arms as he shushed you.

You were shaking so much, and you just couldn’t stop. You couldn’t believe that he was here, and he looked perfectly fine. You sobbed into his chest, and you felt him tighten his arms around you. You clung to him, maneuvering to bury your face into the crook of his neck, feeling guilty about his shirt. You could feel him do the same, his nose brushing against your skin, and he took a long inhale, breathing you in.

“You’re okay,” you blubbered.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered.

You pulled away from him, roaming your eyes over him before meeting his own eyes.

“Where...where have you been? Everyone is looking for you,” you softly told him.

“I know,” he replied, looking sheepish.

“We have to call Tony,” you said, reaching for your phone.

Peter stopped you before you could, his hand tight on your wrist, and you found yourself wincing at his harsh grip. You looked at him with a frown, heart skipping a beat at his sudden dark countenance. He swallowed, and your eyes were briefly drawn to the subtle movement in his throat before he eventually let you go.

“I can’t...I can’t go back,” he told you, shaking his head.

Your eyes widened at him, and confusion filled you. What?

“What are...what are you talking about? Everyone is worried sick, more worried than I’ve ever seen them. Peter, they have no idea where you are or if you’re even okay! We should at least tell them-.”

You swallowed the rest of your words as you noticed that he made to leave.

“I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come here-.”

“Wait, wait!”

You grabbed onto the back of his shirt. You weren’t any match for him, but you were thankful that he halted. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, your lips brushing his shoulder as you spoke.

“Stay. Please stay,” you whispered.

His shoulders heaved as he sighed, and you continued.

“I’m sorry, okay? We don’t...we don’t have to tell them anything. If you don’t want to go back that’s fine, but… I’ve been so worried.”

That last part was said so softly, it was a wonder he even heard you. He didn’t say anything, nor did he move for a while, but eventually he turned around, and you let your arms fall. When your eyes met his again, you watched the way they narrowed, forehead creasing just a bit. You didn’t understand why until he reached up to press his fingers to the skin beneath your eyes. You could see the disapproval in his eyes, and all you could offer was a shrug.

“I was so worried.”

Peter blinked, face falling before he pulled you into his arms again. You returned the hug and let your eyes fall closed, just basking in the feel of him. You could hear his heartbeat, so slow...and so faint, something that seemed impossible. You told yourself you were imagining it.

“You’ll stay, right?”

He threw you a small smile when you pulled back to look at him, and you watched the way his dark eyes ran over you, lingering on your neck a tad longer than the rest of you before his eyes met yours again.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You smiled at him, pulling him towards your bed. You settled in, only just realizing how cold you had gotten, while Peter got in behind you. Your head hit the pillow just as he turned the light out, and you frowned when you noticed that he wasn’t completely laying down. He was on his side, facing you with his head propped up onto his hand.

“You’re not tired?”

His eyes trailed to your window, staring out into the night for a moment before he shook his head.

“No...not really.”

You chuckled.

“So you’re just going to watch me sleep?” you wondered.

He reached towards you with his other hand, brushing his fingers along your neck and collarbone, fingers cool against your warm skin. A shudder passed through you.

“I missed you,” was his only answer, and it made your heart soar.

You knew that he didn’t miss you like you missed him, but it made you happy to hear that nonetheless.

“I missed you too.”

He didn’t respond, and you closed your eyes, the feel of his fingers on your skin oddly soothing. He always made you nervous, but not tonight. You wondered if it was because you had gone without him for so long, unsure if he would ever return. Sleep was just within your reach, but something weighed on your mind that prevented you from grabbing hold of it.

“Why don’t you want to go back?”

Your voice was small in the otherwise quiet room, and when Peter didn’t answer right away, you peeled your eyes open. He had stopped touching you, fingers curling into the covers as his jaw clenched.

“They won’t want me back.”

You frowned, forcing yourself to sit up. You blinked at him a few times, lips parting as you processed what that meant. Why wouldn’t they want him back? Peter was part of the team, one of the most loved members of the team. Said team was practically sick with worry, had been for over a week. Despite the fact that Peter was right in front of you and seemingly safe and sound, worry began to take hold again.

“Why wouldn’t they want you back?”

Your best friend didn’t answer you, and your worry grew, heartbeat picking up. Peter’s eyes were on you now as he sat up too, so focused and intense.

“What happened on your mission, Peter? What happened in Bulgaria?”

Again, Peter didn’t respond, but the minute you moved closer to him, he snatched your arm. Startled, you almost fell over, but his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled you closer, guiding the palm of your hand right to his chest.

Where his heart was.

Again, like before, you noted that his heartbeat was so slow. And even fainter. It was almost nonexistent, and your brows crinkled. You had felt and heard his heartbeat many times before since he’d become Spider-Man, and you knew that this was no effect of the spider bite. You had a hard time wrapping your mind around what you were feeling, and you looked at him again.

“I have...I have to tell you something…”

You fought to keep your worry at bay, noting the way Peter’s voice shook.

“I may even have to show you...but you have to promise me…”

His hand tightened on your wrist, and he released a shaky breath.

“...promise me that you won’t be scared.”

Scared of Peter? He was your best friend, and you couldn’t ever imagine being afraid of him. Still, you felt like he needed this so you nodded.

“Okay.”

Peter’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up, and your heart lurched in a mild panic before you realized why. The sun shone through your window, bathing your room in the warm rays, and you swallowed as you wondered where he could’ve gone.

“I’m right here.”

You snapped your head up to find him standing in the hall, just outside of your doorway. He was out of the sun’s reach, and you slid out of bed to join him. He was watching you like he couldn’t anticipate your next move, and you sent him a smile to reassure him.

“Do you...need anything…?”

You didn’t come right out and say it, but you both knew what you were asking. He studied you for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. I...ate before I came here last night,” he told you.

You nodded and folded your arms over your chest with a long sigh. You could feel his eyes on you as you looked away.

“Look, Peter...I know you're not going to like what I have to say, but…”

You chanced a glance at him and found his dark eyes narrowed at you.

“I think you need to tell Tony.”

He briefly closed his eyes before letting them fall to the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

“If anyone can help you, he can.”

Peter scoffed, a humorless sound.

“Help me with what? It’s not like he can fix this, Y/N. This goes past Tony Stark and all of his intellect,” he practically spat, frustration coloring his tone. “This is what I am now.”

You grabbed his hands, squeezing them as you moved closer.

“I know, I know. I just meant...maybe he can help you safely get what you need.”

His eyes met yours, albeit reluctantly.

“...and maybe he can help you control your appetite better. That way...that way you won’t hurt anyone else,” you quietly finished, recalling everything he’d told you.

Guilt passed through Peter’s features at the reminder of what he’d done. He closed his eyes, practically squeezing them shut as his shoulders heaved, a small sigh escaping him.

“Maybe...you’re right,” he hesitantly admitted.

You could see the war going on within him when he opened his eyes, conflict and guilt and self-loathing all passing over his face.

“Hey.”

He looked at you.

“You’re still you. You just...your diet’s a little different now, that’s all.”

He cracked a smile, a small chuckle leaving him, and you joined him.

“When the sun goes down, we’ll go to the compound, and...and everything will be okay,” you promised him.

He nodded, and hours later, when the sun was safely behind the horizon, that was what you did. You drove. Peter was still wary of his new strength, strength that far surpassed what he had before. Your wrist was still sore from when he’d grabbed you last night, but you didn’t want him to feel any worse than he already did.

Having called Tony on the way, he was waiting outside when you arrived. As per requested, he was the only one. You didn’t want Peter to get overwhelmed. You weren’t exactly sure of what he was capable of now, neither one of you really were, and you didn’t want to stress him out.

Tony had pulled him into a hug the minute he reached him, and your heart clenched for many reasons. You hoped that you’d made the right decision. Tony loved Peter. He’d help him, right? When he pulled away, the bearded man’s eyes flickered between the two of you with a frown.

“So you’re going to tell me what the hell this is all about?”

Before you could respond, Peter moved to pull him inside.

“It’s a long story, Mr. Stark…”

His voice trailed off as they went inside, and with a small sigh, you eventually followed. Neither one of them were present, and you figured that they went to the lab. You had a feeling that everyone else was there too, or at least not far off. They’d been worried sick and now Peter was back, seemingly unharmed. Of course they’d be concerned and curious.

Wanda was the only one who greeted you, and her eyes were wide as they met yours. They were a bit accusatory, even fearful, and you pursed your lips. She probably didn’t mean to, but it was easy to guess that she’d been inside of Peter’s head. She knew, and there was no telling what she saw. 

“Y/N…?”

You shook your head.

“He’s still him, Wanda. Okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue as you moved past her to go to your room. You didn’t see anyone else the rest of the night, and you knew that they were all caught up with Peter. Figuring out how this happened, running tests, coming up with the best course of action. You were in and out of sleep when you heard Peter come into your room in the early hours of the morning.

He wrapped his arms around you as he slid in behind you, and even though he wasn’t as warm as he used to be, the familiarity of it all immediately relaxed you. You felt him bury his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath as he breathed you in, fingers brushing over the skin of your arms.

“Everything okay?” you mumbled, referring to Tony and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “He wants me to drink pig’s blood, but yeah. Everything’s okay.”

You chuckled at that, sleep finding you once more as you smiled at Peter’s joke. However, it was the next day when you discovered that he hadn’t been joking at all.

“You’re serious?”

Peter nodded with a frown, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

“He wants to start weaning me off of human blood and start transitioning to animal blood,” he grumbled.

You noted that he wasn’t happy about that, and your curiosity got the better of you.

“Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, no,” he sighed. “He thinks it’ll help me. That maybe I’ll...crave human blood less and it’ll lower my chances of losing control around someone.”

You blinked, wondering if you agreed with that.

“I mean, he doesn’t exactly know. This is all just trial and error, right now, because probably for the first time in Mr. Stark’s life, he’s stumped,” Peter said with a shrug. “...but it’s worth a shot.”

You felt like there was more to it, like he wanted to say something else.

“He doesn’t know that I already tried that,” he whispered.

You leaned against the opposite counter, watching as his frown deepened, eyes troubled.

“When I woke up...I felt like I had swallowed fire,” he murmured. “My teeth hurt, my throat burned, and my mind was going a mile a minute. I felt like I was losing it.”

He sounded angry as he glared at the floor.

“The only thing that even smelled slightly appealing was…”

He trailed off, shaking his head, a light chuckle leaving him.

“I must have killed at least 100 animals. Anything I could get my hands on… It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch, only 1,000 times worse. It wasn’t until...it wasn’t until I came across those hikers…”

He swallowed his words, letting his face fall into his hands. You neared him, resting your hand on his arm.

“It was the first time I’d felt okay in days. I could finally freaking think,” he said through clenched teeth, letting his hands fall. “There I was...covered in blood...surrounded by bodies of innocent people...and I was finally at peace.”

You pulled him into a hug as he recounted what he’d already told you. You knew that Peter wouldn’t ever forget that moment, but God, you wanted him to. That wasn’t who he was, you knew it, and you wanted him to know it too. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, nose brushing over the skin, and his hands rested on your waist.

Your conversation with Nat weighed on your heart. Like she’d said, Peter was back, and you could finally tell him, but it didn’t seem appropriate. The man had been attacked and turned into something you thought only existed in books. This was a hard time for him, and it seemed silly to drop one more thing onto him, one more thing that could definitely wait.

“I wouldn’t get too close to him if I were you, Y/N. He might mistake you for a quarter pounder.”

You pulled away just as Bucky’s deep chuckle reached your ears, and you turned to see both him and Sam enter the kitchen. Sam seemed pleased with his little joke.

“You’re not funny,” you told him, completely unamused.

“It’s a little funny,” Bucky disagreed, and you huffed.

You felt Peter pull away, and by the time you looked over your shoulder, he was gone.

“Seriously?”

You threw them an incredulous look, and Sam shrugged.

“Look, we’ve got to find some humor in this okay? The kid’s got fangs and he lives off of blood now,” Sam said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Considering that you all were friends with literal Gods and even a woman who controlled the weather, you were inclined to disagree.

“This is hard for him, okay?”

You weren’t sure if they knew the full extent of what he’d done, but you heard Sam sigh, and Bucky at least looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sure he’ll joke about it when he’s ready, but please let him do it in his own time. His whole life has changed...again.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the club,” Bucky sighed.

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a scoff.

“What’d I say?” you heard Bucky ask, but you were already making your way to Peter’s room.

You were surprised that he told you to come in when you knocked, and you slowly stepped inside. He was on his bed, hand behind his head as he scrolled through his phone.

“You okay?”

He let his hand fall, greeting you with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. They don’t mean any harm, so I’m not going to let it get to me,” he replied, reaching for you.

You joined him on the bed, laying your head on his shoulder as he told F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn on the tv.

“Want to watch a movie with me? As silly as it seems, all I could think about was curling up with you and watching a movie the whole time I was away,” he confessed.

Your heart fluttered, sure he could hear it, but he didn’t comment on it. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

His hand tightened on your hip as you figured out what movie to put on.

Every day, Peter went to the lab with Tony and Bruce, and every time he returned, he always seemed irritated. You tried not to comment on the harshness of his eyes and tautness of his jaw, but eventually, you had to express your concern.

“It’s nothing,” he told you one day. “They just keep treating me like some science experiment gone wrong.”

He played it off like no big deal, but you could tell that he was genuinely bothered.

“...and its this stupid diet or whatever you can even call it! It’s not working. It’s not satisfying or fulfilling, at all. I can’t taste a damn thing, I’m just drinking to get full? If that’s what you can even call it. It does absolutely nothing to satisfy me or quell this desire…”

He trailed off at your light chuckle. 

“Alright, Edward Cullen.”

He threw you a hard look, and you swallowed your laughs. While he was finally making jokes about the situation himself now, you realized that now was not the time.

“Sorry…”

He heaved a long sigh, turning to stare out of the window.

“You wanna get out of here?” he suddenly asked.

You blinked at him.

“Now?”

He glanced at the clock, and so did you. It was almost 2 in the morning.

“I can’t think of a better time,” he replied.

You chewed on your lip.

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged. “Just for a little bit…”

He hadn’t left the compound in weeks, Tony far too paranoid, and you could see how much he needed this.

“Okay.”

That was how 40 minutes later, you found your car parked near a small pond while you and Peter leaned against it, staring at the full moon. Neither one of you had said anything since you left, and you guessed that Peter was in his thoughts. You couldn’t blame him.

“You know, if I’d been bitten by a werewolf, we’d be having a totally different night, right now.”

You barked a laugh, and he joined you.

“If you were bitten by a werewolf, I’d be trying to play fetch with you,” you replied.

He chuckled again, and the two of you fell into another easy silence. Your eyes narrowed a bit as something weighed on your mind, and you suddenly crossed your arms over your chest.

“Why won’t Tony let you have any human blood? I mean, blood banks exist…”

Peter sighed, a frustrated sound, and you turned to look at him. The cool nightly breeze blew his dark hair around his face, and his jaw clenched.

“He thinks it’ll make me crave it more. Kind of like an addict, you know?”

You shook your head, disagreeing with that.

“...but...it’s not. This is part of your DNA, now, is it not? He shouldn’t be looking at it like a drug but instead like...food. It’s what you need to survive, now,” you explained.

“You’re right...but that’s blood I’d be taking away from people who need it. Besides, it’d be pretty messed up of me to…‘convince’ some stranger to let me drink from them and then alter their memory of the whole thing,” he mumbled.

“That’s right. You did tell me you can do that, now,” you mused.

“I’m pretty sure it’ll come in handy during missions. You know, if I ever go on one again,” he complained.

Your heart hurt for Peter. His entire life had been turned on its head again. He couldn’t go on missions, couldn’t even see his aunt, and on top of it all, he couldn’t even satisfy the craving his body had for what it actually needed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him again. You were positive he noticed before, but this time he commented on it.

“What?”

You glanced away from him, heart speeding up a bit as you wrung your hands together.

“What about me?”

He didn’t respond right away, and when you looked at him again, his eyes were on you. They were narrowed, hard, but you could see the spark of something in them that gave you hope that maybe this wasn’t such a horrible idea after all. Peter’s lips parted, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight before he snapped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat.

“You...you would do that?”

“Of course,” you said with a frown, turning your body completely to face him. “This is what you need, and you’re my best friend, and I’m willing. So you don’t have to let your morals get in the way.”

Peter stared at you for what seemed like a long time, eyes roaming over every inch of you. You watched as he swallowed, the conflict written all over his face. You could see that he was scared, afraid that he’d hurt you, but you could also see the fire in his eyes, the desire to take you up on your offer.

“Worst case scenario-.”

“You die?”

You rolled your eyes at him, stepping closer.

“You won’t let me die, Peter. We both know it,” you whispered, pushing your sleeve up and holding your arm out.

Peter’s dark eyes snapped to the bared skin, no doubt tracing the veins that you couldn’t see. Hesitantly, he grabbed your wrist, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting your arm as he bent his head. His breath, like everything else about him now, was cool against your skin. You watched as he closed his eyes, dark lashes contrasting against his fair skin, before opening his mouth. You barely got a glimpse of his sharp canines in all of their glory before they were sinking into your arm.

The reaction from you both was instantaneous. 

A loud gasp escaped you, but not from pain. No. Your body heated up like never before, blood on fire as Peter let out an equally loud groan. An addicting sense of euphoria descended over you, and you felt your legs shaking, lashes fluttering as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Sensing this, Peter reached out with his free hand and tangled it within your hair, pulling you closer until your head leaned against his shoulder.

You could feel him moving forward, and he didn’t stop until your back was against your car. His hand tightened in your hair, almost painfully, but all you let out was a moan, your breath choppy and lips trembling as he pressed his leg in between yours. Your free hand clutched his jacket, attempting to pull him closer, and a low moan escaped his own throat as he pushed his thigh more firmly against your now heated core.

You faintly noted that this was a lot more erotic than you anticipated, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He was still pressing your head to his shoulder, and your lips brushed the fabric of his jacket as you murmured his name.

“Peter...Peter…”

You couldn’t tell if you were asking him to stop or not, but considering this was the best high you’d ever been on, you concluded that you were not. Suddenly, all too soon, Peter practically ripped himself away from you, and you would’ve fallen to the ground if he hadn’t caught you. Your chest was heaving, so was his, and when you peeled your eyes open, his own wide ones were focused on you.

“Shit,” he cursed, looking like he was seconds away from getting in trouble. “Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn’t have done that. Mr. Stark is going to kill me…”

“Hey...it’s okay,” you panted, weakly reaching up to brush a dark strand out of his face. “I’m okay. How do you feel?”

He seemed stumped by the question, and he suddenly blinked, brows drawn together as he stared down at you. His lips were stained with your blood.

“I...haven’t felt this satisfied in weeks,” he whispered, looking at you strangely.

You weakly chuckled, eyes fluttering closed.

“Good.”

You had only been seconds away from falling when he caught you, and he finally straightened as he lifted you into his arms. You could feel yourself on the verge of sleep...or was it the verge of death? Either way, you were happy that Peter was happy. He gently deposited you into the passenger’s seat, strapping you into place. Your head lolled as he shut the door, facing him as he settled behind the wheel.

You could feel his eyes on you, and with difficulty, you opened yours again. He was staring at you with that look again, and you were sure he thought you crazy for putting your life in danger like that. The car was quiet, just the sound of your shallow breathing could be heard, and you thought to yourself that you kind of wanted to tell him you loved him. However, before you could, Peter leaned over and pressed his blood-stained lips to yours.

It was quick and soft, just the barest of touches, but it made your eyes widen nonetheless. You stared at him as he sat back and started the car, and you wanted to keep staring at him, wanted to ask him what the hell was that, but sleep finally got to you before you could.

It was days before you finally discussed what had happened, and that was only because it was days before Peter needed to “feed” again.

“I think I can go longer without when it’s human blood...because it’s what actually satisfies me. What my body needs,” he murmured one night while you were watching a movie you’d both seen a million times.

“That’s a good thing. Surely Tony will see that this is the best thing to do. This is what will keep you in control and allow you to go on missions again...see your aunt May…”

You had decided to keep what happened between the two of you, but you didn’t exactly feel right about it. Peter sighed and shook his head.

“No. I think he’d send me away,” he quietly told you.

You quickly moved your head to look up at him, your cheek on his chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s been doing research, trying to find others like me. I think he has. I overheard him talking to the captain and Sam one day. He’s thinking about sending me somewhere I can learn to control my thirst and utilize my new…abilities or whatever,” he grumbled.

You fully sat up now, looking down at him with a stricken expression. His eyes finally moved away from the screen, and he smiled at you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner. 

“I’m not going to let him send me away, Y/N, but he’ll definitely try if we tell him what happened.”

You nodded, forcing your heart to slow before you laid back down. Peter’s hand was still on your back, tracing patterns into your, well, his shirt. You listened to his slow heartbeat, the organ pumping what was left of your blood through his body. Your lashes fluttered when he dragged his fingers up to your neck, the appendages playing with the hair there. You found yourself humming when he tightened his hold there, and you looked up in confusion, prepared to ask him what he was doing when his other hand gripped your arm, and he pulled you up.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was nothing like the first one. You gasped against his mouth, and he wasted no time before taking the opportunity to taste the inside of yours. Peter moaned into the kiss, circling both arms around you now as he rolled the both of you over. He settled himself between your parted legs, and you sharply inhaled at the bulge you felt there.

Peter’s hand traveled to your neck again, grasping the hair at the nape, holding you in place as he dragged his mouth down. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he bit you, throwing your hands out to grasp anything you could. Your right hand hit the lamp on the nightstand, and it fell to the floor with a soft crash. Peter’s other hand pressed into your back, forcing you to arch your chest into his.

His hips were rolling into yours, his clothed member pressing against the most sensitive part of you so deliciously. You let out a soft moan, one hand clawing at his shirt, pushing the fabric up to drag your nails along his back. Peter had you completely pinned in between him and the mattress, every curve of his hips sending pleasure through you.

“Peter,” you moaned, reaching up to drag your hand along the headboard. “Fuck, Peter.”

You could feel your blood crawling past your neck, staining his sheets, but he didn’t seem to care. The bed shook a bit from his movements, and you hooked one leg on his waist as he continued to grind into you. You could feel yourself fading, and you welcomed it, and before you could, one particularly slow roll of his hips sent you over the edge.

You were a moaning mess as you came beneath him, his teeth still embedded in your neck. Your whole body shook, legs practically vibrating as they fell around him, chest heaving as he finally pulled away. He licked at your neck, and your arms fell to the bed, soft murmurs leaving your lips to which Peter chuckled at. He brushed his thumb over your lip before leaning back down, lips grazing your ear.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You did, he was, and he greeted you with a kiss, further filling you with confusion as you wondered just what you were. You didn’t want to ruin it, didn’t want to break the spell by trying to make him define this. You simply wanted to enjoy whatever this was, and enjoy it you did.

Every few days or so, you found yourself squirming beneath Peter one way or another. Sometimes he simply pressed kisses along your neck as he rolled his hips into yours, sometimes his teeth were in you, and sometimes his fingers were in you, the sound of it so loud as he thrust them in and out of your fluttering core. The rest of the team was none the wiser as you both satisfied each other in more ways than one. It was usually in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep, and Peter was wide awake.

“Ngh, Peter,” you panted, fingers twisted into his dark locks.

You were completely naked before him, a first, as he swiped his tongue over your wet folds, another first. His own fingers were pressed into your thighs, holding them down in a way that hurt so good. The cool air hit the bite mark on the inside of your left thigh, and you hissed as Peter slid his tongue past your slick walls, tasting every inch of you that he could.

A thin layer of sweat covered your frame, and you realized that you lost track of how long Peter had been alternating between tasting your blood and tasting your lips. His mouth completely covered you, and you shuddered when he sucked on your little bundle of nerves, sharp teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

You could feel your...3rd? 4th? Or was it the 5th climax of the night that you felt approaching? You were so tired, but Peter didn’t seem to have gotten his fill of you, and his lips kissed along your mound before traveling to the space in the crease of your thigh before he swiped his tongue over your thigh itself, the unmarked one. It was dark in the room, and when Peter glanced up at you, dark promises in his eyes, you noted that they almost seemed to glow in the dark, like that of a feline.

He wasted no time before sinking his teeth into your skin again, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from making too much noise. You knew that he’d ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y to soundproof the room, but it was a force of habit by now. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, and that was how you fell asleep that night, with Peter’s face in between your legs, drinking from you in any way he saw fit.

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Bucky sarcastically greeted as you walked into the kitchen the next morning.

Steve threw you a sheepish smile, visibly sorry on Bucky’s behalf for his behavior.

“Cut it out, Buck.”

“I’m just acknowledging that the princess has been holed up in her room more often than not as of late. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you went home, but I noticed that you’re still eating my cereal, the only other person who eats the kind I like, so…”

You rolled your eyes as he trailed off, and he reached out to pull on your shirt as you neared.

“What’s with the turtleneck, squirt? I know it’s freezing outside, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s 77 degrees in here.”

You tensed at his words, and you ignored the way Steve eyed you over his mug.

“I just think I’m coming down with something is all. I’m a little chillier than usual today,” you lied.

He simply hummed, and that was when you finally noticed his attire. Steve too.

“Are you guys going on a mission?”

“You’d know the answer to that if you actually left your room once in a while,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve lightly shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, the whole team’s heading out. Well...except…” Steve trailed off, and you nodded. “...but Nat and Sam are supposed to be returning from their assignment today, so they’ll be back later.”

You nodded at Steve’s words, not quite liking the way that he was studying you. You hurriedly poured your own cup of coffee, quietly telling them to “be safe” before moving to get out of Steve’s watchful eye.

Hours later found you and Peter on the couch, hardly paying any attention to the movie before you. You had the compound to yourselves, something you looked forward to, but Peter had other ideas than that of what you were thinking.

“You want to...leave?”

You frowned at him, unsure that you heard him right. Peter was facing you with his elbow on the back of the couch, propping his head up as his other hand traced your collarbone.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Mr. Stark...I think he’s getting serious about sending me away for a while. I think he suspects us, but I’m not sure.”

You mulled over his suggestion, unsure of how you felt about it.

“They couldn’t even find me last time. I’d make sure they’d never find us,” he told you.

“I...I don’t know. I mean, I love you, but I’d miss everyone else,” you replied.

When you looked to him, he looked surprised, and his lips parted as he blinked at you.

“...what?”

Your brows drew together.

“What?”

He scooted closer, a slow grin forming on his pink lips.

“You love me?”

You scoffed at him.

“Of course. Peter, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” you finally confessed.

You thought that it would’ve been obvious by now, but Peter just looked as if you told him he’d won a million dollars. Before you could register it, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. It was passionate and full of yearning...and hungry. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved closer, Peter’s hand pressing into the small of your back. His lips trailed from your own down to your jaw, pressing kisses there and to your neck. You’d changed shirts as soon as everyone had left.

You knew what he wanted, what he needed, and you welcomed it as he pressed his teeth into your skin. A breathy moan climbed out of your throat as he laid you down. Your heart was going haywire in your chest, the realization that Peter returned your feelings finally hitting you. His hands ran over you, brushing over your breasts and down your sides before he hooked them underneath your thighs.

He pressed his bloody lips to your décolletage, nipping at the skin there before they grazed the swell of your breasts. He bit into the flesh that spilled over the top of your shirt, and you trembled beneath him, a loud moan escaping you. He growled into your skin, fingers pressing into your thighs almost painfully. You weren’t sure how long you remained beneath him, lashes fluttering and lips parted as ecstasy clouded your mind, but eventually, you felt yourself fading in a way you had never felt before.

Your vision blurred, and you could feel your heart starting to slow.

“Peter,” you worriedly murmured.

He seemed preoccupied with releasing himself from his jeans, fingers brushing over you as he reached underneath your skirt. You opened your mouth to protest, but all that came out was a choked sound, the sound transforming into a breathy gasp when he thrust into you.

“Peter,” you weakly called.

You could feel yourself fading fast, and Peter’s own breath was harsh as he drank from you, snapping his hips into yours with every thrust. You could faintly hear a door opening, and you wanted to warn him, but you could hardly move, let alone speak. Darkness creeped along the edge of your vision, and the last thing you heard before going under was a feminine scream.

You knew that you were in the infirmary before you even opened your eyes. The steady beep of the monitor next to you told you that whatever condition you had been in was pretty serious. You struggled to open them, but when your eyes finally peeled open, you noticed that the room was empty.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you’re awake,” F.R.I.D.A.Y noted. “I will inform Mr. Stark immediately.”

You cringed, squeezing your eyes shut at the mention of the last superhero you wanted to see. You just knew that you were going to get an earful, and you didn’t really care to hear it. You just wanted to know where Peter was and if he was okay.

Tony burst through the doors a lot sooner than you would have liked, and you avoided his eye. He didn’t say anything, and you knew that he was angry, because when did Tony Stark ever have absolutely nothing to say?

“Are you insane?” he finally wondered, and you sighed.

“Where’s Peter?”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he snapped, and you finally looked at him as he stomped towards your bed. “You could’ve died.”

You shrank underneath his cold stare and harsh words, glancing away.

“Do you get that, Y/N? When Nat and Sam got here…”

He trailed off, face reddening as he was no doubt recalling what he’d been told, probably what he’d even seen thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y. You watched as he swallowed, releasing a breath.

“Any later, and you would’ve been dead,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly told him. “I just wanted to help him.”

He heaved a long sigh, a tired and exasperated sound.

“I know you love him…”

You frowned at that, wondering if the whole damn team knew.

“...but he needs help from people who can help him. Help him to control himself, hone his new skills, help him so that he doesn’t kill you,” Tony finished, and you blinked back tears. “Go home and let us handle Peter. When the time is right, he’ll be able to see you again.”

The tears finally spilled over, and with a shake of his head, Tony left you. After a few more days in the infirmary, and several blood transfusions later, you did as Tony instructed. It felt strange to be back home after spending nearly 2 months at the compound with Peter. As you entered your room, sitting on your bed, you felt silly.

Tony had been right. You had almost died. You recalled the feel of your life literally slipping away as Peter drank from you, too lost in the taste and feel of you to notice that he was losing control. You had only wanted to help him, and you had ended up making things worse. Was Tony right to treat it like an addiction? Had you hindered Peter more than you helped him? You didn’t know. All you knew was that your actions almost led to your death at Peter’s hand, and that Tony’s actions had not.

You didn’t know where Peter was, but you had faith that he was alright. You hoped that Tony didn’t give him too hard of a time for what he’d done, but you knew that was unlikely. Nat, poor Nat, had literally walked in on him feeding from you and fucking you. There was no telling what the poor woman thought, and you hated the idea of them treating Peter like some wild animal that needed to be caged.

It was 3 nights later when you woke up to the feel of fingers ghosting over the side of your face as you slept. It took you a moment to register what was happening, but when you blinked your eyes open, you were surprised to come face to face with Peter as he stood over you.

“P-Peter?” 

You struggled to sit up, and you rubbed your eyes, noting the way his own dark ones lingered on your neck. 

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re getting out of here. C’mon,” he said, reaching for you.

You frowned at him, and you watched his own face fall.

“I don’t...I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you honestly told him.

He frowned at you, and guilt tore through you for more reasons than one.

“Don’t listen to Mr. Stark-.”

“Maybe I should’ve. Maybe...maybe he knew what he was talking about,” you said, cutting him off.

His hand fell to his side, and his dark eyes narrowed on you.

“You’re afraid of me,” he murmured.

“No! No...not really-.”

He cut you off with an angry sigh, and you folded your arms over your chest.

“I almost died, Peter!”

You watched the conflict on his features, brows furrowing ever so slightly.

“...and you would’ve never forgiven yourself...and I feel like it’s my fault…”

Peter stood over you, dressed plainly but darkly, chocolate locks kissing his forehead as he stared at you. He didn’t look happy.

“So you’re taking his side,” he surmised. 

“I just think you should hear him out,” you whispered. “We tried it our way...and look what happened.”

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. You sat there, and he stood there, both of you just staring at each other. You watched the way Peter’s jaw clenched, and he suddenly reached out to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he neared. You pressed your hands against his chest, but Peter forced his way onto your bed, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of you as he moved his mouth against yours.

“Mm, Peter,” you protested, turning your head away.

“They think I raped you, you know,” he quietly said, the loud sound of tearing fabric filling the room as he ripped your t-shirt straight down the middle.

Your eyes went wide at his words, and he chuckled, the corner of his lips quirking upwards into a smirk.

“Oh, yeah. They think I coerced you with my new abilities or even just flat out bit you and took you anyway I saw fit,” he whispered.

The irony of the situation was not lost on you, and you desperately fought against him. Your underwear was next, and you were no match against Peter’s newfound strength as he batted your hands away, moving to remove his own clothes.

“They don’t know that I had you squirming beneath me, purring and mewling like a desperate kitten.”

His voice was husky, thick with the desire to sink both his teeth and cock into you. He gripped your legs, separating them like it was nothing despite your efforts to keep them closed.

“They think that you’re bad for me…”

It was embarrassingly easy for him to slide into you, your velvet walls giving him a wet welcome. He sighed out as he pressed into you, dark eyes somehow darker.

“...they think I’ve formed some supernatural bond with you, some kind of blood tie…”

A choked moan slipped past your lips as he started to thrust into you, and Peter leaned down to press kisses to the corner of your mouth.

“...and they might be right, but it only cements what we both know.”

His hands pressed into the sheets beside your head, his labored breathing reaching your ears as he pulled back and snapped his hips into yours again and again. Your head was spinning from the way he dragged his cock through your clenching walls, completely unrelenting in his pace. While this technically wasn’t the first time he fucked you, it was the first time you were coherent enough to truly feel what was happening.

“Peter,” you murmured.

His nose brushed against yours with every thrust, and he released a shaky breath.

“...and what do we both know?”

There was a desperation in his eyes that took you by surprise, and your heart clenched.

“Say it...for me…”

You swallowed, lashes fluttering as he slowed down his thrusts.

“I’m yours.”

His own eyes fell closed at the admission, slowly sinking himself into you, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him.

“You gave me your blood...your body…”

He leaned down to trail kisses along your neck, rolling his hips against yours.

“...and you’ll give me your soul. You’re mine in every way a woman possibly can be. In every way a human can be,” he purred, sharp teeth grazing over your warm flesh.

His words made your stomach flutter, walls clenching around him, and just then, your phone buzzed. Like that first night, it was in your sheets somewhere, and the continuous buzzing told you that it was a phone call. You had a guess as to who it could be and what they wanted.

They were looking for Peter.

You looked to him when he paused, watching as his face darkened. He wrapped his hand around your noisy phone before throwing it at the wall, the device shattering upon impact. His dark eyes met yours again, and he kissed you, stealing your breath away as he moved within you again.

“They want to know if I’m with you...if you’re safe…”

You could feel him smiling against your lips, and your nails pressed into his sides, hanging on as he pushed his knees beneath your thighs, widening your legs and forcing a guttural moan from you.

“They think you’re in danger around me...and they’re probably right, but not the kind of danger they’re thinking of.”

One of his hands fisted itself into your hair, pulling your head back, baring your throat to him, and you knew what was coming.

“You don’t know how much I fought with myself that first night...how badly I wanted to tear into you anyway I could,” he whispered, voice strained. “You were all I thought about when I was attacked...when I changed…”

His hips sped up, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as he pistoned into you.

“For your sake, I’m glad you gave yourself to me, because I planned to take you from the very moment I stepped into your bedroom.”

His teeth pressed into your neck, breaking the skin, and your climax washed over you, euphoria clouding your mind and senses as Peter drank from you. His thrusts didn’t stop, and one hand pressed into the headboard above you, blood staining your pillow as the bed shook from the movement of his thrusts. You knew that Peter was far from done for the night, finally claiming what he felt was rightfully his.

~

tags:  @darkficreposter​ @xoxabs88xox​​​​​​ @harryspet​​​​​​ @readermia​​​​​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​​​​ @nickyl316h​​​​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​​​​ @sebabestianstan101​​​​​​ @villanellevi​​​​​​ @lokislastlove​​​​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​​​​ @coconutqueen21​​​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​​​ ​​​ @hyoyeoniie​​​​​ @kellyn1604​​​​​ @sherrybaby14​​​​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​​​​ @mandiiblanche​​​​ @gotnofucks​​​​ @oneoftheprettynerds​​​​ @doozywoozy​​​​ @sapphirescrolls​​​​ @threeminutesoflife​​​​ @searchforanotherway​​​​ @mcudarklibrary​​​ @ksjksjkv​ @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

[demonsandmischief]

My Warrior Wolf - Ch. 1

Marvel - Bucky Barnes Werewolf AU

Warrior! Bucky x Human! Female Reader

-> Alpha: First in Command. In charge of the whole pack. The leader.

->Beta: The Alpha's Second in Command. Keeps the pack organized.

->Lead Warrior: takes orders from Alpha/Beta. Fiercely protective and a strong fighter.

-> Mate: Soul-Mate. A wolf's other half. Predestined.

1.3K Words

-Chapter 1-

The beginning.

---

"This house is a little more isolated, and it's definitely a fixer upper, but it's below your budget," the real estate agent gave a sniff as she looked around. She stuck out like a sore thumb in a pencil skirt and a perfectly pressed shirt. "Are you ready to move onto something else, maybe a little closer downtown?"

You walked through, taking in the wood floors that groaned in protest with each step. The house was bare. There was no furniture, just a large layer of dust.

There was something quaint about it that you loved. It had a cottage feel, and there were so many windows that highlighted the towering trees.

You walked through the kitchen. Your mind was filled with endless possibilities. It was like a dream. You stopped in your tracks, catching a glimpse of something running through the thick vegetation. Probably a deer.

"Are there any neighbors around here?" you asked curiously. It did make you a little nervous to be out here by yourself.

The lady paused like she was baffled you would even consider the place.

"There might be a few scattered, but nothing that close. Do you want to see some more places?"

You smiled, "I don't think I need to."

---

"There's someone moving in. East territory - that old run down shack of a house." Bucky announced to his Alpha and Beta.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, opening the refrigerator up for a drink.

Steve Rogers frowned, placing the stack of papers down. "Did you see who?"

"I didn't get a chance to. I just saw that pesky agent pulling the for sale sign down."

"Maybe when they move in, we can scope out the place by being neighborly," Sam Wilson grinned, not even looking up from the laptop he was staring at. "By pesky agent, do you mean that one lady that simply asked for you number, Buck?" He closed the lid, standing up and walking to Steve's side.

Bucky's frowned deepened when he reached for the orange juice and pulled out an empty carton. "Who the hell puts it back empty?" He straightened, finally answering Sam's question. "She wasn't my mate, so I wasn't interested."

The three of them were best friends. They weren't always close, but after what happened to Bucky, they naturally migrated to each other for company.

Steve was an excellent leader and Alpha, and Sam was an excellent Beta. Bucky never felt like he actually belonged, but they treated him like a brother, and secretly, he longed for the comfort.

Bucky wasn't born into a role like Sam and Steve. He had to work to build his rank, but he was happy to put his energy into something other than his past that always seemed to drained him.

Steve's alarm rang out. "It's seven o'clock. It's time for training." He stuffed his phone in his back pocket. "You're leading today, Buck."

"I'm no leader, Steve," Bucky said. "We've tried this before. It never works."

"Are you defying an order, Warrior?" Steve was such a hard-ass.

Bucky was tempted to roll his eyes, especially when Sam snickered a little.

"No, Alpha," he grumbled.

Walking from the offices down to the open field was always a journey for him. He couldn't help but let his mind wonder when he saw mated pairs, or little pups running around. Bucky was a broken man though, and he was certain his mate wasn't out there. Even if there was the slightest possibility that you were, a life with him was no life worth living.

He loved to train, but he hated leading it. He knew Steve used this to get him out of his shell. He was a bit of a recluse - keeping to himself most of the time, but being the lead warrior did mean being intune with the others, so he did his best.

"Your position is sloppy," he said to one of the sparring females. They were working in pairs, warming up before they got into the actual training.

"What do you see that I can't?" Steve asked, his voice low and discrete from where he was watching.

"They are getting too comfortable in routine, Alpha," Bucky frowned, crossing his arms.

"You should join them, then."

"You know I can't. I will have the advantage." Bucky wiggled the metal fingers of his prosthetic arm.

"But not as wolf," Steve patted his shoulder, ordering the warriors to break apart.

No, as wolf, Bucky stood on three paws instead of four. His human side was lucky to have the benefit of technology, but his wolf side, not so much. That's why he always wanted to prove that he could do it.

---

You felt accomplished. A week after getting your belongings into your new place, there was not a speck of dust anywhere.

You were enjoying the many tasks that had to be done. It felt good to put your mind to something, and the woods that surrounded you were very calming. You felt safe and grounded. But, being outside had always felt that way for you.

It was just you. You had some friends at work, but they were only work friends. The house was quite small, but maybe you could have them come over. That might be a good step to initiate.

You pushed away the thought. You'd have to get some actual furniture first, and some working appliances. The stove and refrigerator were being delivered tomorrow, so you had been focusing your energy on cleaning and painting while the space was free.

You paused, hearing a car in the gravel outside your house. Were you expecting someone?

You frowned. Maybe the appliance people were early?

Except, the two strange men on your porch said otherwise. You felt panic blossom when they knocked on the door.

You hesitantly pulled it open. The man on the right gave a bright smile while the man on the left glowered.

"Hi, I'm Sam Wilson, and this is my friend Bucky. We live a few miles away, but still technically neighbors," Sam chuckled, holding out his hand.

You lightly grasped it, "I'm Y/N. I'd invite you in, but I don't-" you swallowed thickly, feeling absolutely scrutinized by the man named Bucky. He was incredibly handsome, with short messy hair and haunted blue eyes. "I don't have furniture." You finished with an uneasy smile.

"That's alright, we just thought we'd introduce ourselves." There was something about Sam that was you liked. He seemed very personable and kind, but first impressions could be deceiving. "If you don't have furniture, do you need anything? We could run it back to you."

Bucky's gaze was like a magnet. Even when Sam was talking, you were immediately drawn to him. His eyes never left you, and although it normally would have been unnerving, this felt different.

"That's really nice of you, but I'm okay," you relaxed slightly at their generosity.

"What about dinner?" Bucky spoke for the first time, and you were stunned by his voice. It was deep and husky, and it took you a moment to realize that he was looking right past you and into the empty kitchen. "It doesn't look like you have an oven."

"I was just going to go back into town to get something," you smiled with a slight chuckle. "All of that stuff is coming tomorrow."

"If you're sure," Sam said. He seemed really sweet. "If you need anything we're just right up the road."

---

"Thank you. It was really great to meet you both." And with one last lingering gaze with Bucky, they walked away.

Here's Chapter 2.

A/N: I've been working on this series for so freaking long. I'm so excited it's finally coming out.

Please note! I will not be tagging the people I normally tag for Bucky/Marvel after this chapter.

If you want tagged, please comment on the WARRIOR WOLF TAGLIST.

-> my Masterlist

And as always if you like this, let me know by liking, commenting and reblogging. 💕

Tags: @drayshadow @leyannrae @alexabarnes17 @bklynxbaby @jerseynatural-enthusiast @nyx2021

[allronix]

Carth and Force Sensitivity (crossposted from Reddit r/kotor)

This is for @k-she-rambles:

Okay, so while we're shooting the bantha crap over on KOTOR fan theories, u/134340Goat mentioned my all time favorite "Have you been chewing spice?!" fan theory when it comes to KOTOR: Is Carth Force Sensitive?

So this one starts with a story. I mentioned my brother in law, who is pretty much Keeper of the Jedi Archives. Seriously, he's an English teacher and my sister is a librarian. They met at a sci fi convention and their first date was Phantom Menace. We're taking not just geeks, but geeks who can throw the damn bookshelf at you. Brother in law bought KOTOR on the day it launched and turned it into a week long binge watch at his house. And because brother in law is that kind of geek, he's translating the characters into the West End D6 system. I'm watching him do a playthrough, and he's got Canderous and Zaalbar at Ajunta Pal's tomb.

Allronix: Huh. That's odd. Why aren't commenting on anything when Ajunta is speaking?

Bro in law: Oh. They can't even see Ajunta. You have to be Force Sensitive to see a Force Ghost The stronger your Sensitivity, the better you can see it.

Allronix: Really? Then how come Carth can see it?

Bro in law (gets the "holy shit, I gotta confirm this" look): Really?! He just sees something out the corner of his eye or something?

Allronix: No, he sees Ajunta just fine. Understands what the dude's saying too.

Bro in law instantly rolls back to his last save, swaps Zaalbar for Carth, and sees the bit in question.

Bro in law: Oh. Dear. (Goes over to make some quick scribbles on Carth's character sheet)

Okay, so maybe that was a lore fail. I didn't really think about it too much until I hit that False Level Up glitch and ran around with Carth and Mission as Sentinels. Now, while I couldn't really see Mission as a Sensitive, that little bit with my bro in law nagged at me. And became a "once you see it you can't unsee it." Apologies to TV Tropes, where some of these were my additions to the Wild Mass Guess entry on this topic.

Any one of these on its own is pretty easy to blow off. After all, man is career military, and knows All this Shit is Weird. I also like to think of Sensitivity as a spectrum and not a switch. If all life is connected by the Force, then all life would be Sensitive to some degree or another. It’s just a matter of to what degree. It’s only as the list gets longer and longer does the case start looking damning...

What are the odds of surviving that attack on the Endar Spire, getting to the escape pods, sharing the last escape pod with the mindwiped Sith Lord, piloting through the chaos, landing in what passes for the "good" part of town, remaining uninjured, pulling the badly injured mindwiped Sith Lord from the wreck, evading Sith detection while all this is going on, and just happening to find a dump of an apartment where the landlord's not asking questions? That is one amazing string of coincidences and good luck. Get that many in Star Wars, and it's definitely The Force sticking its nose in things.

Piloting the escape pod to land in the Upper City, piloting the Hawk through the Sith Blockade of Taris, the random Sith patrols, the escape from the Leviathan, and the fleet around Lehon along with the crash landing that left the ship easily repairable. Now, compare to Atton who we know to be an excellent pilot and drawing on The Force who still manages to crash the ship at least three times.

He's a scary good judge of character if you're interacting with other NPCs. If you watch him with other NPC characters, he's got a pretty good compass as to which characters are being helpful and which ones are full of shit. The only one he calls incorrectly is Rukil, who is probably also an untrained Sensitive (the age, the "marked" comments) and half senile, which is probably throwing him.

Related to that, his distrust and wariness about something not adding up with the PC, the Jedi Council feeding the party a line of bull, that things just aren't adding up. And on all of it? Dead on. He's 100% right about the Player Character, he just expected something a little less crazy than "that's Darth freaking Revan."

If you play Female Revan, then Carth's the one who gets fried in the torture cages on the Leviathan. Saul comments how strange it is that Carth takes so much punishment and still remains conscious. Now, this is a low level thing, but in lore, Force Sensitives have drawn on it to keep them alive or conscious under duress. Explicitly, the first sign we got that Leia was a Sensitive when she withstood the Imperial torture droid.

Another of his scary ass judge of character feats? In the comics, Zayne (who is on the run from the Jedi, who framed him for the murder of his classmates) has a vision that Mandalorians are coming for Serroco. Saul? Laughs it off, throws Zayne in the brig. Zayne's own friends don't even believe him. Carth gets one of those creepy hunches and starts calling in "duck and cover" sirens as far as he can broadcast, which sends seventeen cities and millions of people heading for shelter. It saves their lives and Carth is called a hero for it. Armed with another hunch, he disobeys Saul (remember this is before Saul nukes Telos) and lets Zayne "escape" from custody. Mind you, not even the Jedi or his party members believed Zayne. Carth did.

Carth makes a lot of creepy weird offhand predictions about the future. He says he knows on some level he'll be there when Saul dies. That certainly pans out. He makes an offhand prediction that the Jedi have set the party up to take a fall. Right again. He tells a female PC that she'll have to make a choice soon, one she can't walk away from. And then we get the temple top. He even blurts out that "I sensed you would have to make a choice soon, and that was it*, I can feel it!"* If you specify a LS Female Revan, his recording for T3-M4 says he's had a hunch Revan would leave without warning. Again, spot on.

Specify a LS male Revan, and Carth will remark to Bastila that seeing the Exile reminds him "there are worse things to lose." The only other people who can see just how screwed up the Exile is are the Jedi Masters, Chodo Habat, and the Force Sensitive party members.

Specify a LS female Revan, and Carth will insist that he would know if Revan were dead (again, scary ass intuition) and that there's an "emptiness" where she used to be. Now, remember one of the things about a broken Force Bond? It would simply be "empty, a wound."

You know how your party members in KOTOR 2 feel upset or even horrified as they realize they feel compelled to protect Exile and can't being themselves to leave, even when said actions are kicking puppies? And how they swing wildly from being crazy, almost stalker level possessive of them to being scared out of their wits and clamming up when you try to pry anything out of them? And the more potent (and untapped) their Force Sensitivity, the more they get hammered with the effect? (Mira and Atton in particular) Yeah. Now, Carth's "I don't wanna talk" looks a bit different, doesn't it? It could also account for that romance arc, especially if you roll a DSF Revan and go for that "everyone dies" ending.

Again, Ajunta Pal. Seeing a Force Ghost? Yeah. Some degree of Sensitivity needed. Understanding what he's saying? Yeah. Takes a bit more than that. And Carth makes a weirdly insightful comment about the Dark Side on top of it.

Notice that this a wall o text argument already, and I'm now just getting to the "Yeah, his kid is able to throw around mid-level Dark Side powers and packing a red lightsaber." Given the jawline and the muleheaded attitude, no way Morgana was fooling around with the pizza delivery boy. That's definitely Carth's kid, and that's definitely Force Sensitivity. Now, while it can skip a generation (see Theron Shan), it tends to run pretty heavy in families.

Lastly? Gee. He comes from a planet settled by and heavily populated by descendants of Force Sensitives who failed their training. I'm also willing to bet some bastard children of Jedi get passed off as "foundlings" and "orphans" and dumped there, too. Jedi are forbidden attachments, but not sworn to celibacy, so...yeah, bastard kids are gonna happen. There's probably a Jedi or two in that family tree. It's circumstantial evidence at best, but it still supports the case.

Now, any arguments I missed? Counterarguments?

And the million credit question: If there's a character who gets to break this news to poor Flyboy, who do you think would actually take that on? How do you think Carth would take that kind of news? And what, if anything, would come of it?

I kinda figure Jolee might be the only one nuts enough to poke that with a stick...I also kinda figure "Sentinel" would fit best. Consular? Hell no. He hired Mical for that. Guardian works with the feats, but the whole "ferreting out deceit and injustice?" Yeah. That's Carth.