#sorry for not reblogging this last night my brain left me and then i passed out ghlkdsajf

[marshmellowtea]

CHRIST YOU'VE DONE IT AGAIN (positive positive positive)

hello everyone today i woke up thinking about chris calling for/asking for his mother after being severely injured or ending up in some other form of severe distress and one of his companions has to gently remind him that her being here would just make things so much worse for him and all he can do is sob because he still just wants his mama soooo bad </3

[hayffiebird]

Taste of Strawberries, chap. 43 (part two)

Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M

Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie returns in to Haymitch’s life once again. An old friendship is renewed. Will it lead to something more?

Meanwhile Panem has entered a new era. The rebellion’s over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something that will affect Haymitch and Effie’s life in a way they never saw coming.

Author’s note: Happy Walpurgis Night, to those of you who celebrate! I hope you’ll get a great day with lots of hotdogs and bonfires and paper cups of coffee! I’m going out myself soon and it’s sunnny and 17 degrees Celsius! (That’s a lot this time of year when you live north of the wall = Sweden.)

Until then: here’s part two of chapter 43! If you enjoyed what you read please consider hitting the like button, reblog and maybe even comment! It may seem like it doesn’t make much difference – from a reader’s perspective – but it truly and absolutely means the WORLD to us starving fanfic writers. 😉❤️

Chapter 43, Between a rock and a hard place (part two)

“Her name’s Trinket. Euphemia ‘Effie’ Trinket. T-R-I-N-K-E-T.”

Haymitch stalked across the kitchen – back and forth, back and forth – with the cordless phone pressed into his ear. Cold sheets of rain poured down the windows, hammered off the roof. Hard and relentless.

“Her friend drove her to the emergency room”, he said. “Hours ago! No one’s gotten back to me!”

“I’m sorry. But this isn’t the ER, I’m afraid”, the voice said. Boy sounded too young to buy his own beer, let alone work in a hospital. “You’ve reached the reception.”

“Well, don’t you have a computer or something?” he barked. “Just look her up, how hard can it be! Her name’s …”

“I know. But it doesn’t work like that …”

“Give ‘em a ring then, what’s the damn problem?!” His anger was inking all over, not helping his case (like: at all) but he couldn’t help it. “Find out if she’s seen a doctor at least or if she’s still waiting. Woman’s got a white and pink dress on. Checkered, like a picnic rug. Can’t miss her.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed t…”

“Oh, come on! Just help me out here! Do I have to get down on my knees and beg?”

“… You’re not the husband …”

“I’m as good as. I mean …”, he added when he realized what he let slip. He rubbed a tired hand across his forehead, shoulders sagging. Effie’s silk hair ribbon that he still clutched between his fingers brushed against his clammy skin.

“She’s my children’s mother, OK. I wanted to go with her but she told me to stay put. Look after them, while she … Please, I need to know if she’s OK. If you had a wife, you’d understand.”

A long time passed.

“One phone call”, Haymitch pleaded. “Just to see if she’s still in the waiting room. Or her friend. Annabel. Tall. Brown hair. Looks like Caesar Flickerman. Ask her to get back to me as soon as she can.”

“ … Oh, alright. One moment.”

And he was left with that awful elevator music.

But at least, things were moving forward. Which was more than you could say about the last couple of hours.

After what felt like two life sentences served back to back, a click snuffed one particularly sweltering note and the man said,

“OK. From what I’ve discovered, Mr. Abernathy, your … your … Effie, she’s been called in for a cranial CT-scan.”

The words twisted Haymitch’s insides.

“Cranial? So … like the brain?”

“Yes. X-ray pictures. To look for things like an aneurysm, hemorrhage or stroke. Not, not that there has to be any”, the man added quickly. “They just need to rule out any serious and potentially fatal conditions first. Find the root cause and tailor a treatment. She’s probably totally completely fine! And her friend … Annalee? Anna Bella? … she’s with the patient. I told them to pass on your message when they see her. And that’s all I can do for you right now, I’m afraid”, he said, almost guiltily.

Haymitch nodded.

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

He ended the call. Sunk into a chair, phone next to him on the table.

Aneurysm, hemorrhage or stroke.

Images of a Games flashed in his mind. The year the Gamemakers released that blood wave. An avalanche down the mountains, only red, and it swallowed up everything in its wake. Everything and everyone.

She’s strong, Annabel’s words echoed in his head. Stronger than most. But she’s not made out of titanium. Don’t break her.

Had he gone and done that now? Bent her every which way until she snapped right in half?

Elbows on his thighs, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Twisted the soft pink hair ribbon between his fingers. Welcomed the searing pain. Like Katniss and Finnick with their lengths of rope back in Thirteen. Only, they weren’t at fault for the things happening.

Aneurysm, hemorrhage or stroke.

From the baby monitor inside his pocket came a quiet whimper. Not a cry. Just one of those soft baby snuffles they used to make when they were sleeping. Sleeping and dreaming their little dreams, unaware of the fact that their whole life might change tonight.

Not her. Please not her too!

His loving, kind, good-hearted Effs. His sweetheart. His lighthouse. If she died, everything would be over. Everything would fall apart. Once and for all.

Their fractured, patched up little family would be nothing but ashes and ruins. And his poor, innocent, motherless children … they’d be taken away from him to live with someone else. Katniss and Peeta. Or Sae or Hazelle. If he was lucky.

Effie. Who laughed with Sae at the Hob and made shadow animals on the wall for her granddaughter. Who brought tea with honey and lemon when Katniss had that nasty flu. Who always helped Peeta out at the bakery without him having to ask. Effie, who kissed her children goodnight every day after reading them their favorite stories.

No! The thought rung out so loud and clear he could almost hear it. He shoved the images off his mind, like a suffocating blanket. She’s not dead yet! She’s not!

Outside, the rain kept pouring. The grandfather clock ticked the hours by – minute by agonizing minute. And from above: the occasional creak of footfalls. Haymitch wasn’t the only one awake; not the only one who worried.

But June, she’d hardly come out of her room all night. Couldn’t stand the sight of him, no doubt. Not after the way he treated his family. The stress he inflicted on everyone in this house.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

A round moon struggled to clear through the massive, dark clouds. No stars. No nothing.

Tick-tock.

When the phone finally rang, Haymitch almost jumped out of his own skin. He hit reply not a second signal later.

“Hello?” he blurted. “Hello? Effie?”

“No, it’s me.”

“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed. “Hi Annabel. How she doin’? Any news on her?”

“She’s OK. She’s resting now. Sorry I didn’t call before. I didn’t want to leave her side.”

“No, no. Course not.” He swallowed against the dryness of his mouth. Ran his tongue over his cracked lips. Tasted blood. “They’ve examined her, yeah?”

“Yes. It was a primary thunderclap headache.”

Her words turned him cold with dread. Thunderclap? What in God’s name was that? His feelings must have shown through his silence for she added quickly,

“Don’t worry. Sounds worse than it is. She was really lucky. Primary headaches are painful but harmless. No underlying medical condition. They kept her here as long as they did because they wanted to rule out secondary causes and health issues. There aren’t any. They think it was simply brought on by extreme stress combined with the exertion of running like she did.”

“So … she’s …” Haymitch struggled to keep his voice steady. “She’s gonna be OK then?”

Behind him came the telltale creak of the stairs and he knew without looking that June listened from the door.

“They’ve treated her with NSAID”, Annabel replied. “That’s a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug, to reduce swelling. She needs to take it easy for the next couple of days, less stress, but they see no reason why she couldn’t come home tonight. They’re keeping her here a little while longer though. For observation. She had a spinal tap so she’s not to move for an hour at least.”

“Can I see her?” His voice sounded so meek and pathetic. Heart-broken. The voice of someone who knew he had no right to ask what he was asking. “M-maybe you can look after the twins, just for a little while, and I’ll find my way into town.”

“Hey …”

The sound made him look up. June pushed herself off the door frame. Her voice not as sharp, her face less hard when she held a hand out. He passed her the phone.

“Hi … yeah”, she spoke into the receiver. “Yeah, I can stay.” She listened to something her wife said. “Right. OK. Bye.” She ended the call, eyes on Haymitch. “Bel will come get you. Effie wants to see you too.”

xXx

Why were hospitals always so cold? Haymitch lumbered after the nurse. Followed her through endless corridors.

Muted paintings on the walls. Fake green plants on the tables. All illuminated by the fluorescent light that he’d forever associate with pain and fear and heartache.

At least he was allowed in. Had this been the Capitol, the visiting hours would be long over.

They stopped in front of a door like all the others.

“Last bed on the right”, the nurse pointed and was already off.

Haymitch pushed inside.

The lights were down-low. Six beds facing opposite each other. Some of the cubicle curtains pulled shut for privacy. Soft snores. Rustle of sheets.

He treaded carefully, so as not to disturb any of the patients. Effie’s curtains were pulled only halfway, letting the scarce moonlight in.

She lay on top of the covers, reflected by the rain pouring down the glass. Dressed in a hospital gown. Eyes closed.

His heart ached when he watched her red, swollen face. Even in this dim light he could tell she’d been crying. Crying hard.

But her chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths – so different from hours before. It occurred to him that maybe they’d offered her some kind of tranquilizer.

Throat thick with regret he just wanted to take her in his arms. Hold her close and never let go.

But what right did he have? None. Less than none. And even if she’d let him, he didn’t dare. Not after what happened in the kitchen.

Instead, he took a seat by her bedside. Quiet as a mouse. Didn’t want to wake her.

No such luck. A slight creak of wood against linoleum and she stirred. Opened her eyes, heavy-lidded, groggy as she struggled and focused on him.

“Haymitch?”

“Hey, sweetheart, hi”, he said, hand against the edge of the mattress.

Her eyes fell closed but she forced them open.

“The twins …”

“They’re OK. Sleeping like … well, like babies. June’s watching over them while I’m here.”

“And you got them to bed on time?” she mumbled.

“Yeah.”

“Brushed their teeth? Changed their nappies? Read to them?”

“I did.”

“Ian can’t sleep without his binky …”

“I know, sweetheart. Just … try and relax a little bit, OK?”

Effie drew a soft sigh. Exhausted but comforted by his words. For now at least.

He made a vague gesture toward her face. “How’s your head?”

“Better. They gave me some painkillers. I told them I need to get back to my babies but they say I can’t leave this bed yet. They … they shoved a needle in my spine.”

“Yeah, I heard. I’m so sorry.”

I’m sorry. How many times could he say that in the span of 24 hours?

Effie met his gaze – beautiful blue eyes, tired and shiny with the threat of fresh tears.

”I can’t do this anymore.”

There it was. The words he’d been waiting for this whole time.

A small choked sound come from his throat just the same but he nodded, head sunk low.

“I know.”

Things will be better, he wanted to say.I’ll do better. When you get out of here I’ll turn things around, one way or another. We’ll go home, back to Twelve, and I’ll never let you down again. Cause as long as we’re together nothing else matters.

But who was he to tell her those rose-tinted lies? That’s all it really was. Effie knew better than anyone that his promises weren’t worth shit.

“When are you leaving?” he mumbled, eyes on his shaky hands.

“The day after tomorrow.” The raw pain already etched on her face spilt over into each and every one of her words. “After I’ve had my final check-up. I already told Annabel. She wanted us to stay the week but … I just can’t go on like this. I need a break from … I need some time to think. On my own. And you … you can come visit them. The solution we discussed when they were born.”

She drew a trembling breath. Swallowed her tears when she said,

“You weren’t wrong before. When you said you didn’t hurt them. You didn’t. This time. But one day you will and I can’t let you do that. Doesn’t matter what happens to me but I cannot let you hurt Amy and Ian. If you’re going to be drunk it’ll be on your own time. Not in front of our children. Never again. You’ll see them sober. Or not at all.”

Author’s note: And we’re reaching the end of Hayffie’s time in Eleven – for now at least. What did you think?

Every fic I’ve ever read where Haymitch and Effie goes on vacation they always go to District 4. “My” Hayffie did too – in the first draft of ToS – but then I felt I wanted to try something a little different and wasn’t there ANY other district they could go to? And Eleven fit surprisingly well.

So, back around New Years of 2015 I simply plucked June and Annabel’s villa overlooking the sea and re-planted it among the orchards of Chaff’s, Rue’s and Tresh’s home district instead. Hope you liked it!

Oh, and what did you think about Haymitch’s little Freudian slip? Haha! Makes you think of that Daniel Bedingfield song (“If you’re not the one”) doesn’t it? “If you’re not for me then why do I dream of you as my wife?”

[doodlemunster]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers ♡

I'm SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG

and thank you to @yesitsloulou because I saw you sent me this too and y'all are so so sweet for it. Seriously. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO FREAKING MUCH

Top 5 things that make me happy, let's goooo (strap in this is a long one)

Friends & Family

I'm putting them together cuz technically friends ARE family to me. More and more do I realize just how stinkin important they are and how much they make my day/month/year.

My friends sending me tiktoks/memes they think I'll love or remind them of me, who love me for me and I can be my goofy self with them

my parents being endlessly supportive and hear me out, who sometimes pick me up coffee or snacks simply because they are thinking of me. My mom, who used to take my brother and I to anime cons and would patiently listen to us rant about our latest obsession and STILL does it till this day even though she has no interest in any of it because she loves us that much. Or my dad who will be a big ol' goof and won't stop till he's cracked a smile out of me.

2. Mutuals

I would put mutuals in the friends and family category, but y'all deserve your own spot because otherwise I'd go on forever lmao (also I see mutuals as friends but I know some people might find that TOO familiar and I'm not trying to weird ya out or nothin)

mutuals who leave tags on reblogs, letting me know their thoughts or little comments to me. Or the reblogs on my art and letting me know if you love it or not?? like 'IM OVER THE MOON'. Know that I'm squeeing and kickin my feet and twirling my hair. All of it. Also, seeing how excited y'all are about a certain show, books, fandom etc Even those posts that are like 'reblog if you would gently headbutt with the person you reblogged this from if y'all were cats'. I love that. I mean it when I say that all of this makes my entiiirrree day. I love it and I love y'all!!

3. My Pets

Seeing their cute little faces gets me through so much. They let me hug and kiss them a whole bunch and it fills me with so much seratonin, holy hell. They have helped me on lonely nights, being little supportive spirits when I'm in my head too much or going through a bad break up. If y'all want some cuteness too, heres a pic of the two of them. I lost my sweet Gir last year and it still gets to me. It's also the anniversary of her passing, but she was an amazing dog.

4. CBD gummies

okay so this is left field and sounds goofy, but I struggle with sleep pretty badly. I'm a night owl through and through, so it makes settling down super hard. My brain just won't shut the fuck up. It's caused my anxiety to spike enough to get medicated for it. However, with these gummies I can FINALLY bank on a good night's sleep and for that I am forever thankful. It also makes me feel so damn good too, so it even calms my anxious nerves. It's made me happy to tears, let me tell ya.

5. Baking

Been finding a lot of happiness in trying new recipes. Some of my favorite nights are getting tipsy/high, baking, and watching horror movies. I've mad pie dough, mini pumpkin pies, brownies, no bakes, caramels, truffles, muffins and god its been such a TREAT. I made my friends and family baked goods and it filled me with so much joy.

Thank you so so much for the sweet ask!! <3 I'm so happy to have y'all as mutuals. Seriously, you make the weeks that much sweeter. I hope you are doing great. Sending you lots of love! ❤️❤️❤️

[twobraincellkentwell]

Let's Kill Tonight

[A Game Called Revenge]

Part Twenty-Four

Series Masterlist Part One.

Summary: "ᴀᴛʜᴇᴏʟᴏɢɪᴄᴀʟᴛɪᴍᴇʙᴏᴍʙ, ꜱᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀᴛɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇQᴜᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ."

Jabberjays. Lightning. Blood Rain. All in the name of a ticking time bomb of an arena.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the nature of content in some of the chapters. Murder and death. Mentions of sex probably.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Firstly, I'm so sorry that I've left this so late, I've neglected tumblr icl but this has all been completed (after the last two) and I promise I'll get on publishing the prequel as soon as possible. I want to just say my usuals, I have a favourite line so if you can find it then let me know :) reblogs, shares and comments always appreciated.

After what can only be a couple of hours, Cato gently shakes the girl sleeping on his chest awake and she lifts her head, crawling off of him so that they can switch. The jungle is only getting colder throughout the night as Clio lies flat on the floor, using the tree roots as the hardest pillow she could have, and Cato's head lays in her lap. She turns her head to look at Cato whose eyes are fluttering shut as he fights sleep, before turning to look up at the stars through the thick canopy. It hurts to look at him because she knows that it's all ending and she can't quite believe how quickly this games has passed. Eight tributes remain after only two days in the arena - with this speed the show could be over in a matter of hours. He will be going home in a few hours.

"Cato..."

"No." To anyone watching his words could simply just mean that he wishes to get some sleep, but Clio knows him, she knows what she means. No, I don't want to talk about it right now. No, we need to focus on taking out the others tomorrow. No, I can't even think about this right now because the thought of leaving you, of losing you, makes me want to stay here. And it's not just him, she feels it too.

His sleep is restless and only lasts a few hours, less than four at least, before he shivers enough to shake himself awake, bare back exposed to the cool touch of the tree roots. Once he's awake he sits up almost instantly, having already decided he needs to go and search the cornucopia for blankets, extra clothing or anything else that will signal a sudden switch in the climate. "I'm gonna go back to the cornucopia to collect our stuff."

Clio nods her head, shifting to move. "Alright, let's go."

"You're gonna stay here."

"What? No, I'm coming with you." She argues.

"I'll collect the supplies and come straight back." He holds his hands out to cut her off as she begins to protest again. "You nearly drowned yesterday, just relax and let me get this."

"How am I supposed to relax when you're out there by yourself? I feel fine, I can come with you." She moves to stand up, attaching her flask to her holsters again.

"I'm asking you to please stay here." He almost pleads as he steps back, rubbing his eyes and heaving a frustrated sigh. "Scream for me if something happens."

"Don't you dare laugh at yourself." Clio replies, holding a hand out as he stifles a laugh. She shoves the hilt of his sword into his hand, before sitting back down on the floor and nodding in the direction of the beach. She watches him head down the hill towards the water, where the trees start bunching together in the distance, along with the vegetation, dragging his sword quietly behind him to keep as straight a line as possible and leaving some kind of marking in the soil before his body disappears behind the foliage. This was such a bad idea, she thinks as she leans her head against the rough bark of the tree for a few minutes before her brain kicks back into gear and she jumps to her feet. She knows that going running after him would be an even worse idea, and would only alert the others to where they're camping out so she shoves her left foot into one of the footholds of the large tree she climbed earlier to get a higher vantage point.

While Clio struggles to push herself up the tree in the low light of the arena, Cato cuts at the low vines on the floor as he comes to the edge of the jungle. Peeta and Finnick sit side by side, waist deep in the water, but facing opposite directions. Finnick watches the water and the cornucopia while Peeta's eyes scan the long treeline. Their weapons are planted upright in the sand, within arms reach in the shallow water as they engage in half-hearted conversation. Positioning himself behind the larger trees, Cato walks sideways, careful not to trip, so that he can position himself as far into their section as possible and away from the two men sitting on the beach. Using the rocky spoke as a guide, he lines himself up with the strip and waits for Peeta's eyes to flick over to the other side of the arena. When the boy from Twelve looks over at the other line of trees, Cato uses it as his opportunity, slipping past the trees and onto the beach. The sand, soft under his feet, is silent and neither of the men notice his presence until his boots make contact with the rocks as he runs towards the giant metal structure as fast as he can. Finnick is the first to react, head snapping towards the noise but instead of picking up his weapon, he simply lays back into the water, leans on his elbows and watches. Once Cato reaches the cornucopia, he rifles through the piles of the supplies that they'd organised on their first day. Some of the stacks remain untouched, neither affected by the spinning motion of the island the afternoon prior whilst others lay on the floor in disarray. There is no extra clothing, no blankets or resources to start a fire. Fucking nothing he thinks as he rummages through the items, finding only the remains of their food from the first night, hidden underneath various items that had fallen. He can feel the eyes of the two men on the beach, watching his every move in case he tries to attack them but he knows they can't be too worried when he realises they've yet to move from the water. He can't see the other three members of their alliance though. There's movement from the jungle, and noise follows.

Finally, at an arms length of the thick branch she perched herself on earlier, she pushes herself from the trunk and launches for the branch, wrapping her arms around it and beginning to muscle up when she hears a shout.

"Clio!"

Her head snaps up and she immediately lets go of the branch, falling to the ground with a thud as the shrieks continue. It's Cato's voice. The only thought running through her brain is Cato. She needs to get to him. And fast. She stumbles to her feet, boots catching on the creeping vines.

"Clio!"

She breaks into a run, jumping over the various fallen trees as she sprints in the direction of the beach. She follows the line marked in the soil as she runs so fast she's almost tripping over her own feet. Everything is left on the ground beside the tree, only carrying the knives in her holsters and one that she unsheaths as she sprints. "Cato!"

The jungle seems to last forever as she runs. The trees all start bunching together, all looking the same as his voice carries, louder and louder the closer she gets to the beach. She's screaming back to him. "Cato!"

Cato's head snaps up from sorting through the supplies at the sound of Clio's screams. He immediately drops the different weapons he's attempting to secure to the harness over his shoulder, abandoning the hidden parcels of food and tightens his grip on his sword. "Clio!"

He's running now. Down the slippery strips of rocks. He's running as fast as his feet will carry him. The brief thought of what he's going to run into in the jungle crosses his mind before he's shouting back to her. "Clio!"

She's stopped responding. The only sounds he can hear are his own voice and the high tide crashing against the rocky spokes. Eyes briefly flitting to Finnick, the two make eye contact as he continues to run. The man from Four barely even flinches as the blonde sprints past him. Peeta has picked up his weapon and is starting to push himself to a stand when Finnick stops him. They seem to know what's happening, Cato thinks as he tries to speed up. To move even faster. To reach Clio even quicker. He pushes away his thoughts as he reaches the beach - not allowing himself to entertain the idea that he's going to find her laying victim to Katniss or Johanna - and immediately finds the tracks marks of disturbed soil that will lead him back to her.

As Clio runs, a flock of birds swoop low. They seem to chase her as she hears Cato's screams get louder. They fly near her face, not close enough to injure her; instead just enough to cause her to swerve off path. One flies directly toward her, obstructing her vision in the low light and she veers into the path of a thin tree, hitting it face first. The birds continue to shriek around her and she hears another voice. A voice that cannot be real. She hears her sister's voice. There's no way her sister can be calling for her from inside the arena. The shrill notes of panic and pain fill her ears and ground her. She finds herself rooted to the floor, frozen in terror as the desperate shriek plays in her mind. The moment before her baby sister's death repeated over and over and over again. It's all a trap, she realises. Clio sinks to her knees, back pressed up against the bark whilst her eyes are stuck watching the birds fly above her. She finally recognises the birds now. Jabberjays. A muttation. She squints to get a look at the bird that was twisted and turned and manipulated into a Capitol spy to repeat the plans of those in the first rebellion. Giving the Capitol an edge but discarded like a broken toy when the rebels caught on to the tactic and used them for their own purpose. She knows the screams are fake, and now she's given up her location but she can't bring herself to move. Then she hears her own voice. "Help! Cato!"

The screams are louder and becoming more frequent as Cato pushes through the foliage into the jungle. He's shouting back, trying to find her as he runs frantically. Birds attack him as he ducks underneath the trees and suddenly he's hearing his own voice calling for her; screaming for help in a manner that is so uncharacteristic. Shouts quieten down and he turns around, running straight back towards the noise until he sees her. She slumped on her knees, staring at her boots. Finally, he thinks but he's careful when he touches her. Dropping beside her, he reaches out for her shoulder and quickly dodges the knife swung at him from her left arm. Clio's eyes widen as they meet his, apologising profusely before screwing her eyes shut for a moment at a particularly loud screech. Her screams for him die down and give him the chance to hear the sound she's been hearing, swearing when he recognises the voice. The birds settle into the trees above them, and he recognises them now. Fucking mutts. He sits in front of her and forces her to look at him but only for a few seconds until the birds start screaming in another voice he recognises. His sister. Twelve years old and innocent and likely being tortured for the sound.

Clio hears the birds shriek for Cato to help them in Aeliana's voice. She watches him look around frantically, trying to find the bird creating the noise. To kill it. But it only gets louder and she grabs his face in her hands, turning him to look at her. She shakes her head before leaning her forehead against his and clamping her hands over his ears to block the sound. Their knees are intertwined, as he mimics her actions and pressing his hands to the sides of her face. They're left vulnerable to any who ventured into this segment of the jungle but they know they can't leave. Being stuck in the spider sliver and failing to break the invisible barrier has told them that much. They're stuck here, on their hands and knees, desperately cradling the other until the gamemakers decide to stop whatever method of torture this is.

They sit there for the whole hour until the birds disappear as suddenly as they arrived and the section falls quiet whilst they rock back and forth like children and barely notice the atmospheric change. Eventually, their muscles relax and they remove their hands from each other's ears and open their eyes. They don't break apart for hours, even when they're certain the screams have stopped. "We need to move. It's okay. Whatever that was is over. We're alive but not for much longer if we don't get out of here."

"Do you think the Capitol has my sister?"

Clio shakes her head. "No. It was just a jabberjay."

"They copy." He's not convinced. "She wouldn't scream like that unless she's being tortured or killed."

"That's what they want us to think." She tries. "They used my sister to torture me just like they used the mutts last year. If they can use a dead girl's voice then they can use anything. It's not real, Cato. It's a distortion, probably taken from one of her interviews. They have no reason to kill her, no reason to torture you either."

"It's Zeus' doing." He concludes.

"Exactly. He's got all these sadistic ideas and he has to put them to use somehow, right? Before he gets killed for rigging the reaping."

"Clio..."

"What? They can't hurt me. I'm in here with you and everyone else is gone. He rigged it and I think that the president deserves to know." She shrugs before a smile covers her face as an idea floods her brain. "We need to go to the cornucopia."

"Later." When he recognises the confusion on Clio's face he continues, "the others are all sat on the beach, we'll have to go around."

Clio rolls her eyes so hard they almost get stuck in the back of her head. "Fine but let's start moving because they're not going to sit there forever and if we're going to catch them by surprise we can't stay where they know we've been."

Clio crosses her left ankle over her right and pushes herself to a stand, extending her hand towards Cato for him to grab. He looks up at her with a mixture of surprise and suspicion, eyes locked onto her outstretched hand. As he reaches for her hand, she withdraws it suddenly and leaves him falling backwards slightly when his fingers grasp at the empty air. Laughter erupts from Clio, echoing through the trees surrounding them as Cato gives her a playful scowl in faux indignation before laughing along with her. Moving to stand beside her, he presses his palm into her face, shoving her backwards into the tree with a laugh.

"Fuck you," she laughs before dragging herself upwards into the depths of jungle, Cato trailing behind her as she follows the line he had previously marked into the soil to grab the rest of their belongings from the tree.

"What? No dinner? Baby please, I'm not that cheap of a date."

"Oh my god," she huffs, using her words to stifle her laugh, and keeps her head down to follow the disturbed soil.

"Oh come on, that was good." He takes a few large strides to catch up with her, walking by her side. "You walked right into that one."

"I know." She sighs as they finally reach the tree. They lean down to pick up the remaining items scattered around the base of the large tree. She hands Cato his metal flask, slotting the three unopened packets of jerky into one of the pockets of her thigh holsters beside the shurikens whilst Cato clips it to his. She knows they need to return to the cornucopia, if only so that she can retrieve the few knives she'd lost in the initial ambush and pick up her batons in case they're needed for close combat; so now they need to watch the other alliance and wait.

They head back towards the edge of the trees, heading to their right once they see the beach after Clio mentions she saw something which looked like heavy rain in one of the segments when she was on watch the first night in the arena; hoping that it's fresh water. They use the spokes in the water as a guide, moving a few sections across, and away from the others.

"I know we were joking, but-"

"No, Cato." She laughs as she interrupts him. "We can't."

"Why not?"

"There's cameras everywhere!" She says exasperated as they find the largest tree in the depths of the jungle and sit underneath it. She reaches into the pocket of her holster, ripping open one of the jerky packets and handing Cato a piece. "Breakfast?"

"I'm not sure it's breakfast." He shrugs, plucking the food from her hand and biting half of it. He looks up at the sky, craning his neck to see if he can find the position of the sun. "Breakfast would be about eight. This is more like lunch."

"I'll have it back if you're gonna be fucking smart about it." She reaches her hand towards his, failing to grab the jerky when he pushes it past his mouth in defiance.

"I'm just saying." He shrugs her off. "It's probably about twelve, if we're going by the sun."

"Why are we wasting time trying to work out what time it is?"

"You're right, it's five o'clock somewhere. We deserve a strong drink after those jabberjays." He laughs, talking to the sky as if Brutus is going to be able to send them down a bottle of tequila. "Maybe that's what Finnick was reminding Luna when he told Peeta to meet him at five o'clock."

"He said what?" She asks.

Cato waves his hand haphazardly, speaking through his chews on the dried meat. "Yeah, he said something about going to five o'clock. I just thought he meant the fifth slice but now I think it might be about alcohol."

Clio's head tilts slightly to one side, as the gears in her mind shift into motion. Her eyes gazed into the distance, focusing on the trees ahead as she lifts a finger one by one and touches the tips in succession. Her fingers trace in an invisible circle in the air as she counts under her breath, "One, two... five, six... eight... ten... twelve."

Cato watches her carefully, knowing well enough not to disrupt whatever conclusion she was coming to, as her brow furrows in concentration and her lips move imperceptibly as she whispers to herself. A subtle smile of clarity rises on her lips as she whips around to face her boyfriend. "Oh my fucking god. We're in a clock."

Cato looks at her like she's crazy. "What do you mean a clock? We're in the arena."

"The arena is a clock-"

"It can't be. It isn't ticking-"

"Your heart won't be ticking if you don't shut up and fucking listen." She hisses, grabbing his arm tightly. He motions zipping his mouth shut as he rolls his eyes, but he pays attention when she continues talking anyway. "We're sitting in a clock. That's what Nuuts was saying - tick tock, tick tock. Oh my god. You were right that the jungle's separated into twelve, but they aren't districts. Twelve slices for twelve hours. Twelve different things in the jungle at each hour."

"So the twelve chimes after the lightning is-"

"Midnight. The tree is midnight. Or noon. So you were right, it's just past twelve."

"Fuck, angel, you're so smart." Cato tells her, as he repeats her words over and over.

"Each wedge is something else. The jabberjays. The spiders. The wave. God, the insects. There's something different in each section." She pushes herself to stand, pacing back and forth as she talks.

"So whichever section comes alive next is one o'clock." Cato says, jumping to his feet and looking down at Clio, who nods. "The invisible walls are to keep tributes inside the active sections. We can follow them like we did yesterday and avoid everything."

"You're a genius." Clio smiles, laughing when Cato's arms encircle her waist, lifting her off the ground. Her feet dangle as he spins her around, once, twice, three times, as her arms cling to his neck before he finally sets her back down with a smile. "And they say that we're the dumb ones."

"Do you think the others have figured it out?" He asks her.

"I know it wasn't Finnick but that must've been what they were drawing in the sand." She guesses, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her forearm. The heat in the jungle has only increased again from last night - a far cry from the bone chilling winds of last night, and this only confirms to Clio that she's right. The arena won't be covered in a blanket of snow any time soon.

As soon as the thought crosses her mind, a storm cloud cracks with thunder above them.

"Of course." Clio starts, turning to face him. "The rain from the first night. One o'clock. Now we just need to figure out which section it's in."

Their momentary silence is broken by the beginnings of heavy rain descending from the highest part of the canopy. Maybe it's freshwater, she thinks before she realises that everything they've encountered in the jungle so far is actively trying to kill them - or at least disorientate them enough to have them killed. The thick canopy trembles under the weight and the liquid plummets to the forest floor. A few drops hit along the bridge of her nose, causing her to run her thumb along her skin, collecting a thick red liquid. Blood, she thinks to herself when she notices the way the liquid drips slowly from her fingertips - she's seen enough blood to recognise it. She watches as Cato comes to the same conclusion, locking eyes with her before they both look towards the sky and a wave of blood hits their faces, covering their bodies as it runs and drips from their necks.

They immediately turn to head towards the beach as the blood continues to fall. They don't run, under a mutual understanding of 'what's the point?' and walk slowly in single file through the trees. The blood gets thicker and thicker and more characteristically human as they move, until it is so thick that it blocks their vision and obstructs their pathway to the beach. The couple sit down beside each other, covered head to toe in hot, sticky blood as they wipe it from their eyes.

Ironic really, Clio thinks as she looks down at her body, now covered in sticky red, dipping her finger in a puddle that has formed on the floor to the left and watches the gel-like substance begin to dry and crack as it partly settles underneath her fingernails and partly drips to reform in the puddle. They'd dressed her in white throughout her first games, dipping the fabric in red dye along the hemline for her victory interview to illustrate the blood of the tributes she'd killed, and exclusively dressing her in red ever since. The Capitol knows about her blood-lust and they're feeding right into it. She wonders if this particular segment was created with herself and Cato in mind, wanting to give them the drive - the right motivation - to kill or wanting them to give them a show. And as she looks over at Cato, it's giving her drive. Just not to kill.

When the rain finally stops, Clio can hear the sound of a low hissing noise from the adjacent slice but it's faint and distorted as she lets Cato pull her to her feet. Blood still beads and falls as they stand, staining his chest red. She meets his gaze. His eyes are wide and his hair is unkempt, matted to the sides of his head; small curls at the hairline gone and flattened. She lets her eyes wander over him, admiring every detail. His face is streaked in blood, icy blue eyes reminding her of the chilling lakes that border the mountains at home and shining with the same determination as ever, and muscles tensed from his previous crouched position as he starts to walk toward the beach. She always did feel safe around him, even if they were now covered in blood and being sentenced to death. Clio feels out of her mind but also completely calm. "Kiss me."

"I really want to kiss you." He turns to look at her over his shoulder, stopping his movements towards the beach. "But if I kiss you now, I don't know if I'll be able to stop kissing you."

It's a warning, really. They know there's very little they can get away with here. There's cameras everywhere, following their every move and with so little tributes left it's likely they have a significant chunk of the screen time. "Just one kiss." She suggests as her eyes dip to his lips.

Fuck it, she thinks. Cato does nothing to stop her as she advances towards him looking crazed, angry and so hot. The blood on her face has smeared, thin layers drying slightly in her dimple, whilst the rest of it drips from the ends of her hair and across her exposed collarbones and shoulders. She grabs his face in her hands, pulling him down to her height to kiss him. Hard. He responds instantly and suddenly he's everywhere; hands on her body as he turns them around and backs her up against one of the thick-trunked trees, lips on hers as he runs his hands up her sides, lingering on the exposed skin longer than anywhere else.

Her left hand trails down his cheek to grip at the back of his neck as he pulls back slightly, her name leaving his lips in a whisper, voice slightly unsteady when he recognises the wildness developing beneath her touch. "This isn't just one kiss," he breathes out with a smirk and begins to trail his lips down her neck.

She tilts her head back to give him more access to the skin of her neck, letting out a hushed moan no louder than a whisper before she remembers where they are. They've joked about this exact scenario many times as teenagers before they were given separate games but this is different. They're exposed - but not in the way they're used to. They're entirely open to the cameras, and more importantly they're leaving themselves open and vulnerable to Finnick and Johanna who are no doubt actively plotting to kill them by now.

"Fuck, Cato." She whines, pulling his mouth from the exposed skin of her lower neck and collarbone. "We can't."

"I told you-"

"Not here." She says, holding his face in her palm as she tilts her head towards the beach. "Here's too open for the others to find us."

He lifts an eyebrow. "Cornucopia?"

"Cornucopia." She agrees, grabbing his hand and heading towards the centre of the arena.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

daisy, chapter four

A/N: we back babyyy!! fucking finally a new chapter after two weeks!! sorry for the long wait. if you already follow me, then you have an idea of what chaos unfortunately paused this deliciously filthy mess.

summary: "in the name of being nostalgic, how about we make it a sleepover?”

warnings: private school!reader, perv!steve, smut, kissing, dry humping, pussyjob, size kink, somno adjacent, dirty talk, slight overstimulation

word count: 2709

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Leaning back, you relaxed against the hallway wall and listened to your boyfriend's voice spill out from the telephone. 

“Did you just get home?”

“Yeah, like 5 minutes ago,” you reached a few fingers down to readjust the knee-high sock that had fallen down a bit, “what are you doing?” 

It sounded like it took all of the strength he had to even utter it out loud, “homework.” 

“Oh yeah?” you attempted to look at the glass half full, “how’s that going?” 

“Urgh, pass,” he grumbled, “how about instead you tell me what colour underwear you have on?” 

“Steve,” you tried not to let him hear the smile that attempt evoked, “I will not be the reason you don’t graduate.” 

“Okay, fine,” he groaned dramatically, “It’s going terrible, absolutely horrible, I’m dying over here.”

“What is it?”

“Algebra.”

“Oh, really? But it’s so satisfying!” 

“I don’t think this is what satisfaction feels like. No matter how hard I try, it just never makes any sense to my brain. It just doesn’t seem to click.”

“Ah, no, I’ll show you! Trust me, it’s not as complicated as it seems.” 

“Yeah?” he really didn’t sound convinced. 

“Yeah. Why don’t you come over?”

And with that, most of his misery melted away, “really?”

“Yeah, I can help you and we can study together, you know, like the good old days.”

“Okay, well then in the name of being nostalgic, how about we make it a sleepover?”

“You wanna have a slumber party? What, like when we were kids?”

“Yes,” then to sweeten the pot, he added, “I’ll even let you braid my hair.”

After hours of actual proper studying well into the dark evening hours, you were now both getting ready for bed in your tiny bathroom. Having had a head start, you already moved to rinse off your blue toothbrush and pop it back into the small glass by the sink well before Steve was even close to done himself. Walking back out into your bedroom, you left your best friend to his brushing. 

Carefully changing into your sleepwear, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder to see Steve smirking from the doorway, brush still immobile between his lips, completely entranced by each button you plucked free. Catching his eye, he choked out a small cough and returned to his brushing, reluctantly turning to give you some privacy. 

With one hand you chucked your uniform into the hamper, and with the other, you did up the last of the pearly buttons on your light pyjama set.

“So,” you turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, “are the extra pillows still in that hallway closet?” 

“Steve?” you bit down on your bottom lip and asked timidly, “do you wanna just sleep in my bed? I mean,” trying to make it sound a little more casual, “I remember how much, every time, the floor killed your back, so it’s more just because I don’t wanna listen to you complain and beg for massages for the rest of the week.”

“Okay, yeah, thank you.”

Slowly coming to consciousness, you blinked your eyes open to see that it was still very much the dead of night. What you instantly noticed nearly made you feel as if you were still dreaming. 

Steve was behind you, hugging your body tight against his, clicking perfectly into place along your spine as if you were two pieces of lego. The slow rutting of his hips against your soft ass made the whole room go fuzzy and your lips parted in an inaudible gasp. 

One of his hands was drawing soft almost tickling patterns over your boobs, occasionally poking his thumb in the gaps between the buttons and skimming it along your soft, bare skin. Running a hand down to touch the back of his, you breathed out, voice thick with sleep, “Steve?”

The lazy movements stopped at once and he apologised quickly, sounding half asleep himself, “sorry, I’m sorry…”

Tightening your grip on his wrist before he could manage to scurry away, you assured him, “no, it’s okay.”

“I wasn’t really thinking,” he clearly didn’t take your words to heart, and just kept on blabbering, “I just woke up from this dream and then there you were in my arms and it just kinda happened-“

Rolling your hips, you grinded your ass back against his palpable hardness, effectively turning his worried explanation into a needy groan directly into your ear.

Craning your neck to give him a kiss, you felt his fingers, like a reflex, tighten around your breast. Whimpering against his tongue, his other hand snaked under your waist and brought you back for more contact. 

Feeling him slowly gather your shirt up, making it bunch around your waist, his fingers danced over your skin, teasingly finding your waistband and playing with it for just enough time that you lost the rest of your sluggish patience and reached down to tug them off completely. 

“Hi,” he mumbled sweetly, moving his kisses over your jaw and down your neck. 

Pressing your face back down into the pillow, you hummed, “Steve…”

“Yeah?” most likely trying to drive you mad with just how much more you could feel him now that you had one less layer on. 

You didn’t know how long he had been having his fun before you finally woke. All that you knew was that it had been plenty of time for your whole body to be set aflame.

In one fluid motion, you rolled around and gave his shoulder a shove, successfully pressing his back down into the mattress. 

“Wow,” you saw his eyebrows shoot up, clearly waking him up a bit more as you swung your thigh over his hips, straddling his lap. 

“I want more,” you caught his lips again with yours and swiftly worked your fingers at the buttons on your shirt.

Before you could manage to undo the last few, Steve caught your hands in one of his and made you reel back a bit, “okay, easy there tiger.”

“What?” you tried to focus your hazy eyes, quickly becoming too worried for your own good, “what happened? Did I do something wrong? Do you not want to do it?”

“Ace,” he caught your cheek, “you know I do, believe me when I say that it is literally all I can think about. And you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re you, I don’t think you’re capable of not being amazing at everything first try. But,” he sighed, clearly attempting to cool down a bit, “I just want it to be good for you. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Furrowing your brow, you sat up a bit and scooted down to sit on his thighs, needing the distance to be able to calculate what this was about, “what do you mean hurt me?” 

You were well aware of how experienced he was, so what could he mean?

Lacing his fingers with yours, he kept his eyes glued on them as he slowly clarified, “I’m kinda big…”

“Big?” you squinted. 

“Yeah,” he met your eyes. 

“Okay? um,” you couldn’t help the confused giggle that bubbled out of you, “congratulations?”

“No, ace, I’m not just saying this as a way to try and boost my own confidence.” 

With your laughter not dying down one bit, his tired brain only saw one possibility to make you understand. Letting go of your hands, he reached down into his pyjama pants and pulled out his throbbing length.

The room immediately went dead quiet. To say that he was correct was a bit of an understatement. 

“Ace?” he cautiously tried to cut through your trance, “you there?”

“Mhm…” you stared intensely at the way his right hand slightly tightened around the wide base as a result of your mind-melting hum.  

“You okay?” his left hand came to ghost over your bare thigh. 

“Y-yeah,” you couldn’t rip your eyes away, “I, um… yeah…”

Almost as if you were hypnotized, you slowly reached out a hand, but as soon as you made contact with it your fingers snatched back. To the naked eye, it could have almost looked like it had shocked you.

“It’s okay,” you felt his thumb move over your skin, “you can touch it if you want to.”

Finally meeting his eyes for a moment of reassurance, you timidly reached out and traced your fingertip over one of the prominent veins with a feather-light touch. Seeing it jump under you made your eyes grow wide. 

You hadn’t seen many, if any, to compare it to, but still, just the vision of your tiny hand right above where his own still gripped it firmly put everything into perspective even if you didn’t need it. 

You completely forgot to breathe for a moment as your mind quite literally melted at the confusion of how it would even be possible. 

“Steve…” you curled your curious fingers back and refused to meet his eyes, “you know I’ve never done this before, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he answered softly. Just when he saw you get too much in your head about it, try to do the math, damn nearly talking yourself out of it all, he piped up, “you know, if you’re still in the mood for something more, then there are a lot of other fun ways we can make each other feel good.”

“Yeah?” you glanced up at his soft smile and felt your shoulders relax.

“Yeah. Do you still want to? Because it really is okay if you just wanna go back to bed.”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You think so?”

“Sorry, I know so,” you winched lightly, correcting yourself, “Steve, I do really want to do it, do everything, I just don’t really get it completely right now how that is gonna fit when I already know exactly how just one of these feel,” you babbled, pointing to his long fingers that rested on your thigh. 

Licking his lips, he tried to hide a cocky smile, “it’ll fit, ace. I know it will.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He then sat up more, getting closer to you, “hey,” he touched your cheek softly, “don’t worry about it, okay? I won’t just stick it in you before you’re ready. Like I said,” his eyes followed his fingers as they lightly tamed your hair, “I want you to feel good, real good.”

Exhaling slowly, you tipped towards him and rested your forehead against his, letting the still very present arousal overflow your body once more, “I do really want it to fit…”

Kissing the tip of your nose, he smiled, “oh yeah?”

“Yeah…” you nodded slowly and reached a hand in between your bodies to undo the last two buttons on your nightshirt. Pausing a moment before you pulled it off your shoulders, Steve’s big eyes sucked you in.

He hadn’t looked down at your exposed self yet. Simply kept his eyes glued to yours a moment longer as he uttered in pure adoration, “you look so beautiful.”

Slowly letting the fabric fall, cascading down your back, you leaned forward the last few inches and kissed him softly.

Fumbling for the bottom of his t-shirt, you pulled it up, parting just long enough for you to toss it down onto the floor.

You felt both of his hands run down your back, confidently slipping down into your underwear, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer. Letting out a needy groan against your tongue, he glided his fingers up to your hips and lifted your pelvis up, sitting you up on your knees. The height difference also made your lips tear away from his, as you know ogled down into his dark eyes. 

“Let’s get these off,” hooking his fingers into each side of your panties, he landed a few playful pecks around your right nipple as it was now directly in front of his nose. Feeling the fabric shimmy down your legs, you reached out to support yourself on his shoulders, slowly lifting each knee off of the mattress one at a time and letting him help get you completely bare. 

Wrapping his arms around you, he laid back down and took you with him. Tugging his bottoms down just a tad bit more with one hand, you felt his rock hard cock pulsate against your stomach as you laid there on top of him.

Pulling you up, he effortlessly repositioned you back onto his hips. The light gasp that escaped your lips as you felt the intimate contact only seized to make him smile.

Your sobbing cunt was directly against his length. You couldn’t tell if it was his pulse you felt or if it was your own, all you knew was that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Lightly digging his fingers into your sides, he moved your hips for you, gliding your slick all over the underside of his dick. Sitting up, jaw slack, you grounded yourself with the palm of your hand against his fuzzy chest. 

“O-oh,” you whimpered as you attempted to do the movements yourself, grinding yourself directly against him. Your dripping folds engulfed him perfectly, hugged him and lathered him up, producing beautifully lewd wet noises with every needy hump.

“That’s it,” his brows furrowed in pleasure, “does that feel good, baby?”

Only the most pathetic of whimpers escaped your lips in confirmation as you closed your eyes and angled your hips so that you could get more pressure on your needy little clit.

“Shit, that feels amazing,” you felt his fingers find your nipples in a toe-curling pinch, “I can’t fucking wait to be inside of you. Remember how big you thought my fingers felt inside you? Just one of them? Imagine how my dick will feel. I’m gonna stretch you out so good, make you a craving addict.”

“P-please, Steve,” you dug your nails into his skin as you desperately chased your high. 

“I know ace, I know,” he said in an almost mockingly comforting tone, “not yet. Trust me, I would ruin you if you just hopped on right now.”

Just as you were about to come up with a hazy counterargument, he impatiently flipped you around, nearly knocking the wind out of you. Snapping your eyes open, you saw him above you, his heaving chest illuminated by the soft moonlight seeping in through the curtains you never remembered to close all of the way. 

“But maybe you’d like that, huh?” he leaned back on his knees and spread your clinging thighs apart, “you want me to ruin this little pussy, ace?” you glanced down to see him guide his massive cock over your sloppy core, driving the leaky tip well past your screaming clit, letting his mind wander with the image of just how far he’d fill you up. 

“Jesus fuck,” you cursed at the staggering perspective.

Holding the base with a few fingers, he slapped the heavy length against your clit a couple of times, each one making your whole body jolt and jerk around on the linens. 

Gliding through your folds, his thumb and forefinger came to pinch your lips around him, bullying your clit with every fibre of his being, “you wanna feel all of me inside of you? Feel the way it’s gonna bulge out against your stomach?” 

Your legs tried to close around him as you moaned out, being so dangerously close to your own high, but he just pushed your limb down, the added contact of the pressure of his palm against your inner thigh mixed with the stretch he unknowingly induced in your hip somehow pushed you over the edge. 

Body trembling, you cried out a slurred, “Steve!” as he kept going, too hypnotised by your nude form not to accidentally overstimulate you.

And with a string of curses, he begrudgingly ripped away from you and beat his cock till it spurted out hot white ropes all over your panting belly. 

“Fuck,” you stared up at Steve’s half-closed lids, “I love you so much.”

Blinking at you a moment, regaining his breath, he slowly started giggling warmly, “I love you too, ace,” and leaned down to give you a joyful kiss, “now, let’s go back to sleep before the sun comes up.”

next chapter

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[ozarkthedog]

Hidden Solace

Summary: Andy finds comfort in the most unsuspecting place.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Sex Worker!Reader

Word Count: 1,929

Warnings: SMUT. Oral Sex (Male Receiving). Glory Hole Virgin. Swearing. Slight Angst?. It’s up to you to decide if he is with Laurie or not while you read this.

Author Notes: This fic is full of smut and feelings! I hope you all love this little fic as much as I loved writing it. 💙 *Credit goes to gif owner.

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Andy’s palms were sweaty as he sat in his Audi psyching himself up.

He stared out the wind shield taking in the shady looking building with its neon sign blaring into the dark night. He was taking a chance showing up at a place like this, but he was desperate.

Andy sucked in a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

He pulled his Red Sox cap low and covered his eyes with his shades as he crossed the threshold into the XXX Store.

He heard this place was running tricks. A Glory Hole out back for paying customers who could keep their mouths shut. Andy had no problem with that.

Soft Core Pornos played on small TVs embedded into the walls with copious amounts of toys, lubes and bondage gear stocking the shelves.

Andy casually strolled down the last isle pretending to look at some magazines before sauntering over to a grimy countertop placed at the back of the building.

An older woman sat at the oversized counter engrossed in an erotic novel as Andy shifted on his feet, clearing his throat.  

The woman’s eyes flicked up to Andy before she begrudgingly put her book down.

“It’ll be $50. Cash.” She said, sounding disinterested.

He ruffled through his wallet and deposited the money in her hand trying to not raise his head.

“Down the hall. Last door on the left.” She said, pointing with her thumb to the black curtain to her left.

“Have fun.” She feigned a smile and picked her book back up.

Andy passed through the curtain and walked down the hall intent with getting to his location. Various groans, creaky wood and the smell of sex filled the air as he strode by a handful of doors before arriving to his destination.

He stood in front of the door for a moment, unsure if he could actually go through with this. Maybe he could get his money back?

He heard a set of footsteps sound at the end of the hall and without thinking he grabbed the doorknob and dove into the room.

His heart pounded heavily against his chest as he leaned against the door feeling as though he almost got caught. He laughed to himself thinking how stupid he just looked to some guy who was headed to get his rocks off.

Andy peered around the tiny room as he took his hat off and stuck the brim in the back pocket of his jeans along with his sunglasses. A small bulb hung from the ceiling producing a dim yellow hue, a bench with a box of tissues and a small cut out in what looked like a wall covered in wood paneling.

He rubbed his face with dismay. How he ever talked himself into doing this…

Andy heard shuffling beyond the wall and then a faint, female voice.

“Hello?” You ponder with a quiet tone, unsure if anyone was in the opposite room.

You learned to not look through the hole. You made that mistake once and you never wanted to repeat it. Plus, the boss man didn’t want you to know who you’d be “servicing”. Something about privacy.

Andy cleared his throat nervously, his voice sounding just as timid. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. Hi.”

You smile at his apprehensiveness. It was rare that you got a Glory Hole Virgin.

“First time, huh?” Your smile coming across in your tone.

“That obvious?” Andy smirked as you let out a warm laugh.

“Yeah, but it’s ok. There’s nothing to be afraid off.” You scoot closer to the wall, the padded plastic bench you sat on crinkled under your weight.

“Why don’t you get relaxed. If you’re wearing a jacket you can hang it on the hook to the left.” You hear him shucking off his jacket in the tiny space. His movements cause the small bit of light pouring through the hole to flicker.

You motion for him to come forward when you slipped your hand through the hole, reaching out into the empty space until his hand found yours.

It caught you off guard, your hand jolting in his grip. “Shit. I’m sorry. Am I not allowed to do that?” He sounded genuinely concerned.

“It’s alright. I was just expecting a hard cock is all.” You laughed again, overcome with how sweet the man on the other side of the wall was. His larger hand encased yours until you maneuver his grip and lock hands with him.

“Oh…” He’s grateful you can’t see his face as it turns beat red. “That makes sense.”

“You’ve got soft skin.” You say, running your hands over his palm and up his wrist.

“Uh, thanks.” He responds with a dazed tone, enraptured with the way your hands feel tracing over his palm.

Andy bit his lip from the tender sensation. If your hands felt this nice on just his palm, he could only imagine how they would feel on his dick.

Blood began to pool in his cock, straining against his jeans with every trace you made from fingertip to wrist.

Boldly, you made a fist with your hand and grasped two of his fingers. Andy gasped at the lewd motion as you slowly jerked his fingers. You knew what was happening when the man went quiet.

“Are you hard?” Your lust filled voice cut through the spell Andy was under as he watched your tiny hand pull at his digits.

“Yes.” He declared, no longer ashamed of where he was.

“Good. Now, why don’t you take your cock out and let me feel all of you.”

You hear him shuffling his clothes around and a zipper sound before he speaks with unease, “Do you want me to just place it in your hands or…?”

“Yes, come here. I want to see how big you are.”

Andy stepped closer to the wall as your tiny hand wrapped around his impressive girth. You both gasp when your hand circles his rock hard length and slides down ever so slowly.

“Fuck.” Andy groaned, leaning his head back on his shoulders. Your tender touches make his blood boil.

“Does that feel good?” You ask, jerking your fist around his cock before grazing the crown with gentle caresses.

“You have no idea.”

His hips shake when you jerk his cock with a steady grip, traveling down his shaft and back up to swirl your palm around the head. Precum smears your hand prompting you to want more.

“Let me have a taste?” Your voice sounds innocent but it’s laced with a hint of yearning.

You carefully pull his cock through the cut-out in the wood paneling. His package takes up the entire hole, making him press his body against the wall when you bring his balls through to your side.

You stare at the straining appendage for a minute, overwhelmed with how thick he was. Your mouth watered and your thighs clenched together instinctively as a drop of precum leaked from the tip.

“Uh… everything ok?” Andy questions worriedly until he feels a hot swipe travel from the hairy base to the reddened tip.

His eyes slammed shut with a hearty growl when you dragged your tongue up the expanse of his girth before swirling around the head. You lick at the precum and relish it’s salty tang.

“You’ve got a magnificent cock, Sir.” You declared before stretching your mouth wide and swallowing him down.

Andy’s hips jolt forward not expecting you to take him completely in your mouth so suddenly. Your jaw stretched to accommodate his thickness as your hand fondles his sack with light caresses.

His deep, sinful moans are somewhat muffled but they hit your ears like a choir of angels.

Your bob your head on his length and jerk what you cannot fit, saliva slicking your grip as he thrusts a little in your hand. Your lips suckle at his frenulum, causing him to growl.

“God Damn. Your mouth feels amazing.”

You smile with glee around his throbbing cock, determined on getting him to fill your mouth.

Hard tugs jerk his thickness with prowess as your left hand pulls tenderly at his sack. You can’t help but vibrate his length with your joyful moans as you feel him swell over your tongue. Rarely did you get to service a cock like this.

Your core wept wantonly as you sucked on his cock. It pooled between your thighs and screamed at you to ease the tremendous ache caused by this stranger.

Andy out right whimpered when you poked at his urethra, gingerly nudging your tongue into the tiny hole.

He rested his head on the wood paneling, overcome with the intense sensations. He never had a woman use her tongue on him this way, it was devastatingly profound.

It’d been too long; he wasn’t going to last. He brought his fist up and banged on the wall with pleasant irritation.

You halted nervously, pulling off with a slurp, “Are you ok?”

“Shit- Yes. Sorry. It’s just been... it’s been a long time.” Andy sputtered. “Please, keep going.”

You heard the sadness in his voice and it tugged at your heart strings.

“A cock like this should never go a day without getting wet.” You crudely professed before taking his cock back into your mouth and sucking greedily at the bulging head, desperately needing to taste his seed

Andy felt his belly go taunt when you flicked your tongue around his cock head before swallowing him down. Your gag reflex kicked in as he met the back of your throat with a heavy punch.

He growled a low, “Fuck” as his body shook. His sack shrunk signaling his oncoming orgasm.

“Fill my mouth, Sir.” You command quickly before swallowing him down and gagging heavily around his length.

Andy’s muscles lock tight as his brain floods with endorphins. The rapture of finally hitting his peak via another person causes a full body shudder to pass through him and he cums with a strong howl.

He released his hearty load into your awaiting mouth and you eagerly swallowed it down. You slowly jerk his cock adding to the overstimulation of sucking at the tip making sure you got every last drop.

Sadly, you let his cock slip from your mouth and he pulls his dick through the hole.

You hear him panting from the powerful orgasm when he rests his body against the wall. He sluggishly stuffs his throbbing cock back in his jeans overwhelmed with the pleasure he so desperately needed.

“Um… I hope that was good for you.” Your usual meekness back in play.

Andy huffs out a laugh. “Oh, Darlin. If you only knew what you just did for me…” He trails off, not wanting to divulge too much.

You beam upon hearing how satisfied he was. Something about him made you feel different but you tried not to think about it. That wasn’t good for this line of work.

“Well, I’ll be here the same time next week… you know, if you want to stop by. Just ask for Room 6.” You hated the way you sounded, smacking your hand against your forehead. This wasn’t a restaurant.

He waited a minute before he speaking, twisting his ballcap in his hands.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect coming here… so thank you. Honestly.” His voice was full of sincerity and longing. You wished you could see his face; rules be damned.

He gathers his jacket, throws his hat on and shades his eyes before stepping out of the door with a smirk.

“I’ll see you next week.”

[free-pool-trash]

everything - peter maximoff

PART 2 TO DISAPPOINTMENT (you can read it on its own but it might be a tiny bit confusing)

hey guys, i missed peter and i hope this makes you guys feel better abt the first part of this fic <33

comments/reblogs/asks always appreciated <3

word count: 4k

warnings: angst, panic attack, fluff, probably some mistakes its 3:33am 😩✋🏻

summary: peter comes to your new reality <3

masterlist

His fingers drummed rapidly against the metal table located in the jet hanger, beneath the basketball court. Hank waited too, although, the beast was considerably calmer than Peter was at the moment.

“The radio has been quiet for like twenty minutes… do you think something went wrong?” Peter forced the words out in quick succession as he gnawed on his lips.

Hank sighed as that was the fourth time Peter had asked that question, every five minutes for the past twenty minutes- like clockwork, he’d asked Hank the same thing. The only varient was that the question started with, “It’s been five minutes...,” then, “It’s been ten minutes…,” to, “it’s been fifteen minutes…”

Hank understood that the boy was nervous, he was too, afterall Peter wasn’t the only one with a girlfriend on the uncharacteristically sketchy mission. However, if Peter asked him the same question one more time, he’d turn blue out of annoyance.

“Peter, I’m begging you to stop asking. They’re probably fine, the mutant’s energy surges probably just fried the radio,” Hank explained, trying to sound convincing for his and Peter’s peace of mind.

Peter gaped in response, “And that doesn’t worry you?”

Hank threw his head back with exhaustion and groaned, “Of course it does,” he started, running his hands down his face before continuing, “But stressing out about it isn’t going to do anyone any good. All we can do is wait for them to get back,” he finished, fixing Peter with a stern look as he’d began to bounce his knee relentlessly- annoyingly.

His fingers drumming faster than the human eye could see, his knee jolting at a similar speed, a feeling of unmistakable dread had started forming in the boy’s stomach, and no amount of finger tapping or knee bouncing could make it go away.

He had a feeling in his gut, one that he wouldn’t be able to back up with any type of logic or reason, but regardless, he had a feeling seated deep in the pit of his stomach that told him, extremely definitely, that something wasn’t right.

As best he could for the next hour and a half, Peter tried to stay quiet. Leaving the hanger to run laps around the basketball court; his attempt at exerting some nervous energy, his attempts were fruitless though as all he could focus on was that feeling in his bones that told him that you, his longtime girlfriend, were in danger. What only served to amplify his anxiety was the fact that if something terrible had indeed happened to you at the hands of the reality jumping mutant; there probably wasn’t much he could do to reverse it.

The conversation he’d shared with you last night rang through his head while he weighed up every possible outcome of your situation, and in conjunction; the situation he could possibly find himself in.

“So say your lovely girlfriend does get sent to an alternate reality… would you follow?” Within a second of your question, Peter had flipped your positions so that your back was against the mattress and the man in question was hovering on top of you with a cheeky grin.

“Sweet cheeks, I’d follow you anywhere.” He told you and you giggled at the stupid pet name before pulling him down to kiss you.

He meant it, he knew he meant it. Peter Maximoff had never been so sure of a fact in his entire existence; he’d follow you anywhere. His issue was that anywhere usually didn’t extend to alternate realities, but to him, if it meant rescuing you, he’d figure out a way to work out the kinks. Peter shook the thoughts from his head, he needed to be rational. You were probably fine, but yet again, he found last night's words echoing in his brain, the promise you’d made rattling around the confines of his head as violently as a screen door during a hurricane.

“Pete…” You whispered, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. “I’m gonna be okay. Raven and Charles will be with me the whole time, we’ll be in and out. I promise.”

When his heart began to beat out of control, he stopped running at lightning speed in favour of leaning against a thick tree adjacent to the basketball court. Aiming to steady his pulse he briefly closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He thought about you; about how you’d play with his fingers to stop him from drumming them, how you’d cause any and all of his intrusive thoughts to be ejected from his mind when your lips would meet his in surprise kisses, or how you’d drape your arms around his shoulders and rest your cheek against his chest at random times. Those were the small interactions that brought him the greatest amount of serenity. Just as his heartbeat returned to its usual overactive pace, the jet you’d left on earlier was flying overhead.

Peter rushed back to the hanger, nervous energy at an all time high when the jet landed before him and Hank. Peter bounced on the heels of his feet as he waited for you to bound into his arms and pepper kisses all over his face. But that didn’t happen.

Peter’s heart dropped into that familiar pit in his stomach when Raven and Charles stepped out of the plane, looking crestfallen and solemn when their eyes met Peter’s wide, fear filled, brown eyes.

Before anyone could say a word, Peter sped into the plane, unfortunately confirming his suspicions; you weren’t there. Only a second later, the boy was back in his original spot in front of Charles and Raven.

“She better not be where I think she is right now or I swear to God, man-“ Peter began to threaten as Hank let out a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Peter,” Raven placed her hand on his shoulder when he looked like he was about to hyperventilate, Charles had yet to speak, no doubt trying to find an appropriate way to tell a young mutant that the only constant in his life, his only pacer, had been lost on a mission due to his negligence.

“Where is she? Tell me where she is, I’ll go get her I can be there in back in like five minutes just-“ Peter immediately rushed to speak, ignoring Hank’s confused gaze and Charles’ pained grimace.

“Slow down, bud,” Hank voiced when Peter neared the point of vibrating where he stood.

“The mutant, Galan, he said he’d bring her back, if, and only if, we complied with his demands,” Charles started to explain, grimacing again when Raven cut him off rather bluntly.

“But we can’t. His demands are insane.” She glared at Charles as she spoke, she believed that he shouldn’t have even brought up the option in front of Peter, there was absolutely no way they could accept the deranged mutant’s demands, Charles knew that, and Raven hadn’t wanted to give Peter false hope.

“So what?” Peter yelled, anger replacing nervousness. He’d warned them it was a bad idea. You’d warned them it was a bad idea. It could’ve been avoided. Had he been there, he could’ve saved you. “So what, she's just gone? My girl is just gone and what? I’m supposed to just be okay with it?” He seethed, his breath heavy while his chest heaved with rage.

When, after a moment, nobody spoke, Peter shook his head, “Come on you guys… you’re not seriously considering leaving her in some wacked out world all by herself, are you?” His voice sounded pleading, like a child, stripped raw and entirely vulnerable in a way that made them all wish they’d been more careful, hell, even Hank felt guilty and he hadn’t even been there. He, too, had been against the whole mission in the first place, actually.

“We’re really sorry, Peter,” was all Charles said before he exited the room, Raven stayed rooted in place though, at a loss for what to say or do next.

Peter swallowed thickly, his throat closing and his heart pumping at a rapid rate as tears welled in his eyes and oxygen seemed to disappear from his general area when the reality of the situation set in. You were gone, he’d get you back; even if it took him the rest of his life he’d get you back, but right in that moment, you were just gone. He hadn’t heard Hank’s and Raven’s “Woah!”s as the silver haired boy stumbled on his feet, his knees buckling before he had a chance to steady himself. Nor could he hear the gut wrenching rasps that left his mouth as he slipped into a panic attack that would surely result in him passing out.

“Peter,” Raven was in front of his face, but it wasn’t right- no, you were the one who talked him down, not Raven, it wasn’t right. “—you need to calm down, breath—“ her voice was distorted, as if he was hearing her from beneath a surface of water.

The older woman looked to Hank in desperation, he only furrowed his brow and gradually lowered Peter to the ground. He watched as the speedster rasped and muttered, he only managed to pick up a few words, his heart pulling with each one.

Hank rubbed a soothing hand up and down Peter’s back, while Raven prompted him to breath, eventually they managed to get through to the boy, though, Hank could tell it was more a matter of him having worn himself out.

“You’re alright,” Hank tried to soothe but Peter only whimpered.

He sniffled and met Hank’s gaze, hollowly and miserably, his lips quivering as her spoke in a desperate whisper, “I have to get her back, man. I just have to.”

*

The kettle screeched out a whistle from the kitchen, letting yourself and Wanda know the water was boiled, “I’ll get it,” you told her, you stood from the porch steps, squeezing Wanda’s shoulder on your way in as she gave you a grateful smile.

It’d been a few months since Wanda had sought you out after WestView broke down, you recalled the words she spoke fondly; “You don’t have to be alone. Remember what I said when we first met? We could help each other.”

Of course, you’d agreed to go on the run with her. And true enough, you’d both been extremely helpful to each other. She was a true friend and if nothing else, she was a bright light in the confused foreign world. As much as you adored Wanda, and as much as she adored you, neither of you were so naive as to think you weren’t still swamped in a pool of loneliness, craving for what you’d both respectively lost.

“Wands, was it peppermint you wanted?” You called from the kitchen, grinning slightly when she responded.

“Ya! With honey!” She yelled softly, “Please!”

Dutifully, you made the two cups of tea before returning to your spot next to Wanda on the steps, holding the hot cup between your hands and breathing in the minty steam. The scenery that surrounded you was gorgeous, nothing short of breathtaking. Rolling hills, huge lakes and flower fields that surrounded the cabin gave it the vibe of something plucked right from a storybook. If it was taking yours and Wanda’s story into consideration, you thought, it’d be one tragically dark storybook, but all the good classics were like that, you supposed.

Despite the eye catching backdrop, your mind was elsewhere today, more so than usual.

Wanda’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, “May I ask you something?”

Taking a sip from your tea you gave her an amused smile from over the rim of your ceramic cup, “Always.”

With that, Wanda turned her body to face you and you mirrored her action, then, she tilted her head curiously, “I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while, but I didn’t want to pry,” she began causing you to snort out a laugh.

“Never stopped you before,” Wanda rolled her eyes, but smiled, continuing to her actual inquiries.

“When we were in WestView, you woke up a few times, but only when the imposter acting as my brother was near you,” you let out a heavy sigh, which stopped her in her tracks. This conversation had been brewing for a while, you could see it in the way Wanda sometimes hesitated before bringing up certain topics.

“In my reality, I have a boyfriend. He’s my everything, really,” you told her, staring blankly out into the fields as you spoke, “We’ve been together since we broke his father out of a high security prison together in ‘73– did I ever tell you that our timelines are different?” You wondered, losing the thread of your thoughts as you recalled the most significant few days of your life that had transpired in 1973, when you and Peter were just eighteen. It was only five years ago for you, but in this reality, the 70s were more than forty years ago.

“You’ve mentioned it,” she reminded you and you nodded, clearing your throat and getting back to the explanation that Wanda was expecting.

“Well, he’s a mutant like me. He’s got super speed, like your Pietro. His birth name is actually Pietro but he hates it, had it changed to Peter when he moved to the states— kids used to pick on him for it,” you explained, laughing lightly, thinking about the way his nose would scrunch up cutely when you’d call him Pietro.

“That man in WestView… he was identical to my Peter and he had the mutation and… his last name is Maximoff so, I don’t know, I guess it made sense that he’d be playing your brother. When we met I thought nobody was ever going to come for me, then I saw him and I was so happy…” Wanda rested a gentle hand on your knee when your face grew mournful.

“I thought he’d come to save me, bring me home, you know? But it wasn’t him at all, just some guy called Ralph Bohner,” you shrugged with a small pout, attempting to diffuse the weight of the confession with a light, humourless chuckle, “Stupid name.”

Wanda fixed you with a genuine smile, “Tell me about him,” she promoted and you sighed, dreamily this time.

“He’s kind, and funny, he makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever known— seriously, I could be having the worst day of my life and all he’d have to do is look at me and everything would feel better,” Wanda’s smile widened, she understood, her Pietro had that effect on her too.

“He’s honest, he’s so good hearted but he can be so full of mischief sometimes, he’s a huge prankster back home,” you paused, biting back a smile for a second, then carried on, “He’s got killer taste in music, before we actually started dating he used to lend me his favourite vinyls and make me mixtapes… he used to write crap on the top of the cassettes with black sharpie, like, “kinda cool songs for a sorta cool girl” or, and this is my personal favourite, “songs that make me think of you”, he drew a little winky face so, naturally, I thought it was going to be super cute,” your own laughter cut you off, Wanda’s mingled with yours and she raised her eyebrows.

“And was it?” She asked, chuckling when you shook your head, your smile the widest she’d ever seen it. She couldn’t help but smile too, the more you told her about him, the more she realised he really was just the alternate version of her brother.

“The only song on the whole thing was ‘Let’s Get It On’ by Marvin Gaye!” Wanda threw her head back in laughter, your cheeks hurt from smiling but your heart felt lighter having spoken about the boy you love.

Once she’d stopped laughing, Wanda took you in before speaking the thing she’d been thinking about since you became friends, “You know, I think Pietro would’ve liked you very much,” she joined you in staring off into the fields, “Peter sounds a lot like him.”

“You’d like him, I think,” Wanda nudged her knee against hers and sipped her tea.

“I hope I get to meet him someday,” she stated, causing your tone to dampen ever so slightly as you agreed.

“I hope so too.”

*

Peter hadn’t slept in weeks, by now, the speedster was running on nothing but twinkies and redbull. He hadn’t gotten a chance to sleep really, he’d left the mansion almost two weeks ago on what he was calling a solo mission. By solo mission he meant; finding the mutant that sent you to another reality and asking him, politely, to just plop him wherever he sent you. He had no return plan, but he knew what the X-Men had planned, well, more specifically Erik. He was going to kill Galan, and if that happened that eliminated every chance Peter had of getting his soulmate back.

Peter made a choice the second he left the mansion, he’d rather be in an alternate reality with you than in this reality without you.

Besides, he was sick of his friends telling him he should “move on”, you’d only been gone six months and everyone was acting like waiting for you was a hopeless waste of time, it was driving him insane.

You were it for him, he wouldn’t move on for as long as he lived and he knew you felt the same, but, regardless of that, he wanted to find you sooner rather than later.

Your side of the bed didn’t smell like you anymore, your favourite blanket (which Peter had shoved in his rucksack that he brought with him) didn’t hold the same warmth as it did when you’d wrap it around his shoulders. To put things simply, missing you was eating him alive.

He was following leads to get to Galan and finally, in a dingy motel in some lesser known area of the south, Peter found him.

“You’re one of the X-Men aren't you? Here to agree to my terms? Took you long enough,” the mutant spoke lowly, his grumbling voice all the more intimidating in the dimly lit room.

Peter stood awkwardly, out of place, while the mutant stared at him expectantly, “Uh, no, actually,” Peter finally managed to choke out after a moment of silence.

Galan scoffed, “Look, like I told your buddies; I’m not bringing the girl back-“

Peter shook his head, cutting Galan off frantically, “I don’t need you to bring her back. I want you to send me to her,” Galan raised a scarred eyebrow at the young man in front of him, he looked like all hell, bags under his eyes so prominent they almost didn’t look real. He had something of a nervous quality about him, Galan thought.

“You’re Quicksilver, am I correct?” Peter simply nodded his head in confirmation and Galan rolled his shoulders, “I gotta admit, it’d be nice to get you out of my way.”

Peter looked at him pleadingly, “So? Will you send me to her?”

Galan nodded his head, there was no downside for him, really. “Don’t see why not. But humour me for a second, kid. What’s so special about this girl?” Galan asked, a smirk on his face that unnerved Peter.

Peter took in a deep breath and looked Galan straight in the eyes, “I love her, she’s sorta my other half. I’m a total loser without her,” Peter tried to sound aloof but his body language and pleading gaze weren’t fooling anyone.

Galan snorted out a laugh, muttering something along the lines of “Ah, young love” but that was the last thing Peter heard before the world around him faded away.

When he came to, all he knew was that he was freezing, which was saying something considering he was nearly always too warm. He jolted into a sitting position, darkness surrounded him and all he could smell was grass and a very faint smell of smoke coming from somewhere in the distance. After a few seconds, Peter’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and all he could gather was that he was somewhere very, very hilly. The noises of wild animals in the distance spurred Peter to get onto his feet and start running.

He ran for maybe one minute until he reached a cozy looking wood cabin. The lights were off but smoke still poured from the chimney.

Too cold and too exhausted to think too much, Peter walked up the porch steps and knocked three times on the door.

“Hey, uh, anyone home?” He called when nobody came to the door after a few minutes. Just as he was contemplating running away a girl he didn’t recognise opened the door. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in shock, Peter wasn’t sure why.

“Come in,” she told him immediately, and again, Peter didn’t question it, the strawberry blonde led him to a sofa and motioned for him to sit down, with a flick of her hand the fire sparked to life and Peter let out a silent breath of relief. Whoever this girl was, she was a mutant like him. “I’ll be- I’ll be right back.”

Wanda practically ran into your room, shaking you awake roughly, a crazed smile on her face like a child on Christmas, “Y/n, wake up!”

You cracked your eyes open with a groan and hid your face against your pillow, “What?” You asked in a whine and Wanda would’ve been endeared by how much of a child you were when you were sleepy, had it not been for the love of your life sitting on your living room sofa.

“Just come on, will you? You’ll sleep better once you see this,” she prompted, you let out a weak groan but threw your duvet off your legs anyway, sluggishly following Wanda into the living room, your fuzzy socks helping you shuffle over the hardwood floors without needing to lift your feet off the ground too much.

“It’s like 3am, Wands, this better be—“ you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp immediately upon seeing him, “Peter?” You asked, this time you had to be sure.

His own eyes widened and before he could even consider giving you a verbal answer, you were completely encompassed by his arms, but that was all the answer you needed.

A choked sob left your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, his back shook and his tears were already soaking through your tee shirt, letting you know he was crying too.

“Y/n,” he muttered against you, pressing feverish kisses all over your face while he took in your appearance, “You’re okay?”

You nodded your head, eyes watery and smile shaky. Yours hands cupped his cheek, your thumbs brushing the tears away from under his tired eyes, “I’m okay.”

Peter’s eyes continued to rack over you, his fatigue catching up to him as your soft thumbs stroked his cheekbones, “When was the last time you slept, Pete?” A sleepy smile formed on his lips at the sound of your voice, he would never be able to articulate how deeply he’d missed you.

“S’been a few weeks,” he answered and your eyes widened.

With a sad smile, you placed a kiss on his cheek before taking both of his hands in your own, “C’mon, you need rest so you can answer all the questions I plan on asking you in the morning.”

Wanda, it seemed, had already slinked back to her own room.

Once you arrived in your bedroom, Peter shimmied out of his jeans before crawling into your warm bed and opening his arms, beckoning you in. You didn’t need any convincing, you happily crawled into bed and let Peter wrap his arms around you as you laid your cheek against his chest.

“I have so many things to say but I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out,” Peter said softly, squeezing you against him as closely as possible, burying his nose in your hair and sighing gently.

As gently as you could, you leaned up and placed a tender kiss against his lips, “You can say everything you need to say when you wake up.”

“I love you,” Peter whispered, chasing your lips with his languidly, “You’re my everything, you know that?” Of course, you wouldn’t know how much weight the statement held just yet, that didn’t matter to Peter, though. He had you back, the other details didn’t seem so important anymore.

[beigehearts]

All right it is time- drabbles about the yandere adult trio and how they kidnap you

I reblogged something about this- yandere content is not really reader friendly- it is fun to read for some people but for some people it is triggering- please don’t read if it’s not suited for you: each part will have it’s own word count This is a fem!reader- if you would like me to write a different one please let me know

CW: kidnap, alcohol consumption, drugs, physical abuse, needles, language

Hisoka 1,172 words

It’s a quiet night in your small town. Here, everyone knows everyone and there are no such things as secrets. There’s the lightest of drizzles on this cloudy, chilly night. The bar is almost barren except for you and a group of your friends. Even the bar tenders are your friends. Everyone is emptying glasses and telling lame funny stories that you’ve all heard before but still enjoy listening to.

Your body is warm, alcohol running through your veins. You shrug off your jacket, and place it on the coat rack at the entrance. Before you can even turn around someone latches onto your arm. A smile greets your face when you see your friend holding your arm.

“Come on y/n! Danny and Vanessa are making jello shots!” Danny and Vanesa are the bar tenders, they brought jello packets with them knowing it would just be this group of friends here tonight. Your friend clinging to you, Ashley, drags you back to the bar as if you had been protesting, which you definitely were not. The jello shots are poorly made and are more like water with jello packet flakes in it. Though none of you seem to care, taste is not the goal here.

It’s a long night, the clock strikes 1:30 am and Vanessa waves her arm in the air, “Alright kiddos, it’s time to close shop. Get out of here- be safe!” 

All of your friends call out and thank her, and everyone puts on their coat and does as Vanessa says. The slight breeze and cold droplets sends a shiver down your spine and you hold your coat closer to you. You can barely make out the moon through the clouds, but your attention is taken by a large breeze and your friend yelps out. 

“Let’s go! I’m cold! Who’s house?” Ashley asks. Usually all of you sleepover at each other’s houses after a night of drinking, the group collectively decides on going to the closest person’s home. Tido groans when hearing this, knowing that it’ll be his house.

The group all huddles and scampers towards his house, trying to conserve warmth. A blast of hot air hits you when you step inside, and everyone sighs with relief at the warmth. 

Tido turns towards everyone and points at you all, “It’s bed time dumbasses. No more drinking, I’m tired. If a single one of you wakes me up there will be hell to pay.”

You chuckle and nod, “Just go to bed Tido, we’ll be quiet.” Tido trusts you the most out of the group so he doesn’t protest, he sends you a spiteful look and stomps away to his room. He can be such a handful. Though you managed to get your friends to quiet down and speak quietly before they passed out. 

The house is quiet. The only sounds are the quiet snores and shuffling of your friends. You’ve been laying at the couch staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours. Eventually you get up and go to the kitchen. When with your friends you find it hard to sleep, some motherly instinct coming over you and making you alert. 

You know where Tido keeps his stash, you’re the only one of your friends who knows where it is. He told you where it is for nights like these. You open the cabinet, and grab a sugar jar from the back of it. When you open it the smell assaults your senses, you grab the ziploc bag and put the jar back. Once you’re sitting outside on his back porch, you roll it nice and neatly, and you can’t help but smile at your handy work. 

It hits your drunk body quite quickly, and you move to the rocking chair and cover up with a blanket. You turn your head when you hear the back door open, and see Tido’s head pop outside. “I thought I smelled something.” He says and closes the door behind him. There’s a swing on the porch and he plops down on it, and the beckons for the joint. You hand it over and he takes a deep inhale, holding it for a while before exhaling. 

He pats the seat next to him and you sit next to him, pulling your knees up into your chest. 

The next hour or so is spent philosophizing and staring out into the woods of his backyard. Your head feels like a fishbowl, the fish being your brain. Eventually it goes quiet. Tido throws his arms back, wrapping one around your shoulders. 

“Y/n.” He points into the forest, “I can’t look at those trees anymore, they’re just staring back at me.” He huffs and looks at you, his eyes finding your lips and slowly moving up to your eyes. “I’m going to bed. You should do the same.” 

You nod and he stands up, “Just remember to lock the door before you go to sleep.” He adds. He seems somewhat awkward standing there and you can’t help but laugh, his usual confident personality façade always disappears when he’s around you. 

A cough escapes his throat and he mumbles, “Goodnight y/n, go to bed soon okay?” He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You hum and return it, these small nights you spend with him always end like this. You’re just waiting for him to actually take you out somewhere else than his back porch. 

He shuffles inside and you watch until the door closes. You aren’t quite sure about your feelings for Tido, but it’s not too concerning at the moment. You enjoy your time with him, and enjoy your kisses, that’s enough for you. 

Maybe you should go home... You can always fall asleep in your own bed. Yeah that sounds good. Usually Tido walks you home at this time of the night but he’s already gone to bed and you don’t want to disturb his beauty sleep. Even though he probably wouldn’t mind much. 

You grab all of your things and put on your coat and shoes, you take one last glance at your friends and smile. They would understand, you’ve done this before. 

It’s only colder, the breeze only blowing harder. When you check your phone it’s 4:17 am. Good thing you don’t have work or classes tomorrow. There’s no way you’ll be able to wake up until 2 pm. Even though it’s cold and breezy, it’s a nice walk, you walk into the town and look around at the shops. You’ve passed them millions of times but they always look different when you’re high. Though you’re not that high anymore. The only light illuminating the streets are the street lamps, well the ones that actually still work. You don’t bother avoiding the puddles, stepping in them and your feet become wet. It’s no longer raining but you can still smell it in the air. 

The town is always so nice when it’s quiet, it’s so serene and surreal. Your steps come to slow halt when you see someone standing on the sidewalk a few yards ahead of you. You can’t make out their face, but they’re tall, really tall. You squint and try to see if it’s someone you know. After all, everyone knows each other here. Is that... Tasha? No, Jordan? Your guessing is cut short when he begins walking towards you. 

Soon enough you come face to face, you tilt your head up and can barely make out his features in this light. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Your voice echoes around the street. 

He’s chuckling, and it turns into a full out maniacal laugh. Once he gathers himself he wipes a tear from his eye. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to talk to strangers?” His hand lays heavily on your shoulder, “It’s not safe to be intoxicated in public you know.” He brings his head towards your neck, pressing his nose against your bare skin, “It seems my pet has been smoking too.” 

You push him away with all your strength, your slow head still processing what’s happening. He frowns and you have no time to react when a hand wraps around your neck, and pushes you against the brick wall of the store. You groan, your head pounding now and when you try to gasp in air you can’t the wind has been knocked out of you. 

His lips meet your ear and you can’t fight back, as you’re still fighting for air. “You’ve been playing around with other boys. Are you trying to make me jealous?” He breathes in you scent, and a hand grabs your hip. Finally you manage to breathe in some air but by the time you’re ready to fight back he tightens his grip on your throat, making it hard to breathe again. “Don’t you think it’s mean to mess with a man’s emotions?” 

Gasps, that’s all you can manage, you’re gasping but can’t catch your breath. Your vision begins going black, becoming fuzzy and blurry. Your eyes start to roll back in your head, but right before you lose consciousness, you fall to the ground. 

“Oh pet, what ever am I going to do with you?” 

Your throat aches and your lungs burn, you’re left on the ground in fetal position, sucking in as much air as possible. But you don’t get a break, your hand that lays against the concrete of the sidewalk take away all the pain of your lungs. His shoe digs into your hand, and he moves his foot side to side, rubbing your hand against the ground, until you see tracks of blood following your hand. You scream out but it only gets worse. He lifts his foot and before you can retract your hand, stomps on your fingers. Your screeches can be heard by no one but this man and to him they mean nothing. 

You bring your hand to your chest and cradle it, 3 of 4 fingers are broken, and most of the skin has been rubbed raw, and blood makes it hard to see your wounds. 

“See what happens when you’re not a good girl?” You don’t answer, more focused on your hand. The pain is so intense, it burns it stings it aches it’s so painful. 

A hand grabs your hair, and you yelp when he holds you up by it. His face gets close to yours and he whispers, “But it’s okay, I’ll help you.” He lets go of your hair and your head falls, slamming against the concrete. Your vision goes dark and the last thing your hear is, 

“Oh you’re so pitiful y/n.” 

Illumi 1,133 words

You’re lucky to be surrounded by friends who give you hours and hours of laughter every day. Each day with your friends is a blessing, and each moment is a miracle. Life is good, you go to work everyday, working at a local daycare in the busiest part of town. The children all love you, and some even cry when they have to leave. You spend your days reading books to kids, and giving bottles to babies. Though the diaper part of the job isn’t the best. 

It’s 6 pm, and the last girl to be picked up is sitting on your lap as you have an insightful conversation. 

“So that’s how I know,” She throws her arms into the air and giggles, “that zebras are white and black!”

Her logic may be flawed but she makes a good point, “I had no idea!” You exclaim. 

The familiar ring of the door opening sounds out and the little girl jumps from your lap and to the gate separating the children from the front desk area. She shakes the gate and yells, “Mommy!” 

A tired looking woman who you see every day gives you a weak smile and picks up her daughter from the other side of the gate. “I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.” You wave at the little girl who waves back as her mother carries her out of the building.

As much as you enjoy your job, it gets really tiring. You let out a sigh and stand up, all that’s left is to clean up and lock up. Your co worker who was spending her time cleaning a mess in the bathroom looks more than disgusted when she comes out with gloves on and a bucket. 

“Did you even know that kids can produce that much?!” You laugh at her comment and she shoots you an evil look. 

The toys are put back into bins and the plastic chairs are tucked back into the plastic table of the kid’s room. You put away bottles and lost binkys from the baby room, and lock up all the first aid stuff in a cabinet. Looks like that’s the day. Your co worker already left, you thought you might as well give her a break since she did have to clean the bathroom. 

It’s 8 pm by the time you’re turning off the lights and locking the front doors. The last mother actually picked up her daughter much earlier than usual, the town is still bustling. Why not do a little window shopping? 

You walk around the streets, looking at clothing and other things, occasionally going in and touching things. Now that you think about it though, you have been wanting to get a dress. Your birthday is coming up and your friends are taking you somewhere nice, they won’t tell you where.

There’s a nice shop only a block away that has really cute dresses that aren’t too expensive. You step inside and look around. They have summer dresses, daily dresses, prom dresses, and formal dresses. If you had to guess, getting a formal but cute dress is probably what your friends expect. Eventually you find the dress you want, a black open back dress that hangs loosely at your waist and stops a little above your knees. You pay for the dress, owing a grand total of $68, cheap for a dress in this town. 

Eventually you make your way home, you kick off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You’re exhausted but you really should eat something before you go to bed. You grab a hot pocket, not really feeling like making a home cooked meal. Before you put it in the microwave, you turn on the tv and put on a show you’ve been watching. 

Once the hot pocket is in the microwave, you press a few buttons and listen to its mechanical whir. What a day, you lean against your fridge and close your eyes, you could fall asleep right here quite honestly. You peel your eyes open when you hear your tv turn off. 

Huh? You look around your unlit apartment and don’t see anything, maybe it just glitched out. You couldn’t really care less at the mom-

Something whizzes past your face, and strikes your microwave. The microwave turns off and quickly you jump up from your leaning position and look at it. There’s a needle lodged in the door of the microwave. You turn around and go wide eyed when you see someone standing in your living room. 

“Ah, I missed.” He says in a nonchalant tone. You look around for a weapon, going to reach for a knife but stop when a hand grabs your wrist. “Don’t bother y/n. It’s futile.” How did he move so quickly, how did he get around the counter so quickly?!

“What do you want? You can take my wallet, take what you want.” You try to keep a cool tone but your voice still shakes and cracks. 

His grip tightens on your wrist and you wince. “You can make this easier for yourself and just give up.” 

You shake your head and try to kick him, but he grabs your knee and pushes you against the counter. He’s holding one of your legs to your chest and using the other to hold your wrist. “Will you go willingly or not?” 

You struggle against his grip and with your free hand try to look around to grab something on the counter behind you. “What do you want?!” You yell out. 

You find a glass and swing your arm to break it against his head but he drops your knee and grabs your forearm so tightly that you screech and drop the glass, it shattering on the floor.

“If I tell you will you calm down?” He presses his body against yours, holding both of your wrists so you can’t attack him. “You are the perfect subject to be my wife and future mother of my kids.” 

Tears stream down your face and you shake your head violently, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m not going to be your wife!” 

He sighs and tilts his head backwards some. You notice just how long his hair is when he does so. 

“I tried to make this easier for you y/n.” He moves both of your wrists to one hand and uses his other hand to grab something from his jacket. He pulls a needle out of his shoulder and sobs begin to rack your body. Who is he? Why is he doing this? What the hell is going on? 

He puts the point of the needle against your forehead and you begin to feel woozy, “You’ll learn in time.” Are the last words you hear before everything goes black.

Chrollo 945 words

After your upsetting break up with your ex a few months ago, your friends decided they had enough of your complaining and signed you up for online dating. You’ve talked to so many people on these apps and yet all of them just don’t do it for you. 

But you began talking to one man and it just clicked. He was so kind and respectful and knew when to say what. The both of you had many text conversations, and he finally asked you out on a date. You are going to meet at a very nice restaurant on the outskirts of town. All of your friends were ecstatic to hear that you would finally go on another date.

They really don’t want you to fuck it up, so a few of your friends came over to help you get ready. It was like clockwork, the put you in one outfit and then rip it off to put on another one. The process is more exhausting than the date will be. Eventually the three of you decide on an outfit. Skin tight pleather pants and a frilly blouse that looks Victorian almost, and some nice short boots with a big heel. After the hour of finding the right outfit, they sit you down on your bed and do your makeup. Quite honestly they did a good job- but you wouldn’t admit it to their egotistical asses. 

“You’re gorgeous!” Rose says. You roll your eyes and give yourself one last look in the mirror, admiring yourself for a moment. Shannon hugs you from behind and giggles, “Our girl is finally dating again!” You have to pry her off of you just so you can get out of your room, knowing you’ll be late if you stick around with these two. 

As you get in the car Shannon and Rose wave at you from the front door and Rose yells, “Our girl is growing up!” Shannon follows up with, “Don’t fuck it up y/n!” How very helpful

The taxi driver confirms your destination and then you’re off. You look through your most recent texts one more time, just because.

Him 9 PM at the Cavern on the south side of town

Me Alright! See you soon 

Him I can’t wait

After the twenty minute drive, you step out of the taxi and stretch your arms in the air. You look down at your phone and see that you’re two minutes late. Oh no, late on your first date? That definitely doesn’t give off a good impression. You rush inside and give the name of your date to the woman at the front and she leads you to a table in the back. 

He stands up from his seat, and he’s much more handsome than you were expecting. His black hair is slicked back and he’s wearing a suit and tie. There’s a cloth wrapped around his forehead but you aren’t given much time to think about it when he approaches you. He kisses your cheek and then pulls out your chair. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I feel so bad. Did you wait long?” You voice and he shakes his head.

“Don’t be, I didn’t wait long.” You let out a small sigh at his words and sit down, thanking him. He pushes in your chair and returns to his own.

You smile as he pours you a glass of wine, “It’s so nice to finally meet you Chrollo.” 

“Same here. I was worried I might be catfished.” He chuckles and his eyes meet yours as he hands you a glass. He’s just so captivating, you can’t take your eyes off of him. You’re left gazing at his face when he clears his throat, “So tell me, how did you get here?”

You snap out of it and shake your head a little, “Oh, I took a taxi. I wasn’t sure if we would be drinking or not.” 

He sips his wine and you copy his action. His smile is just absolutely captivating. “I’d be lying if I said I weren’t a little anxious about tonight.”

“Oh why?” You ask. 

“You just seemed so wonderful on text that you seemed too good to be true.” He looks down at his wine, “But I guess it is true.”

Dinner is quite nice, you’re just so relaxed with him and he is fascinating. He knows so much and he could talk for hours and you would listen without saying anything. 

After the both of you finish the bottle of wine, you decide it’s time to go home. You wrap your arm around his and the both of you walk outside, and the alcohol seems to be catching up with you. Though you really didn’t drink much. 

The both of you walk to his car and talk there for a while. 

“I’m gonna call a cab. Do you mind waiting with me?” You ask him. 

He smiles sweetly, “Of course not.” You call for a cab and they tell you that they will be there in five minutes. 

The alcohol is really catching up to you. He asks you if you’re okay but your lips feel numb and you can only mutter what resembles words. Your knees start to feel weak until the buckle underneath you, and he catches you. You try to say something, move, anything, but your head is swimming and you can’t form any words. 

He shushes you, and pets your hair while holding you up. “You’re alright.” He kisses your forehead and opens up his back door, laying you gently on the seat. Before he closes the door he says,

“Come on honey, let’s go home.”

[qqueenofhades]

Re: the post you reblogged about Bush. I'm 21 and tbh feel like I can only vote for Bernie, can you explain if/why I shouldn't? Thanks and sorry if this is dumb or anything.

Oh boy. Okay, I’ll do my best here. Note that a) this will get long, and b) I’m old, Tired, and I‘m pretty sure my brain tried to kill me last night. Since by nature I am sure I will say something Controversial ™, if anyone reads this and feels a deep urge to inform me that I am Wrong, just… mark it down as me being Wrong and move on with your life. But also, really, you should read this and hopefully think about it. Because while I’m glad you asked this question, it feels like there’s a lot in your cohort who won’t, and that worries me. A lot.

First, not to sound utterly old-woman-in-a-rocking-chair ancient, people who came of age/are only old enough to have Obama be the first president that they really remember have no idea how good they had it. The world was falling the fuck apart in 2008 (not coincidentally, after 8 years of Bush). We came within a flicker of the permanent collapse of the global economy. The War on Terror was in full roar, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were at their height, we had Dick Cheney as the cartoon supervillain before we had any of Trump’s cohort, and this was before Chelsea Manning or Edward Snowden had exposed the extent of NSA/CIA intelligence-gathering/American excesses or there was any kind of public debate around the fact that we were all surveilled all the time. And the fact that a brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama was elected in this climate seems, and still seems tbh, kind of amazing. And Obama was certainly not a Perfect President ™. He had to scale back a lot of planned initiatives, he is notorious for expanding the drone strike/extrajudicial assassination program, he still subscribed to the overall principles of neoliberalism and American exceptionalism, etc etc. There is valid criticism to be made as to how the hopey-changey optimistic rhetoric stacked up against the hard realities of political office. And yet…. at this point, given what we’re seeing from the White House on a daily basis, the depth of the parallel universe/double standards is absurd.

Because here’s the thing. Obama, his entire family, and his entire administration had to be personally/ethically flawless the whole time (and they managed that – not one scandal or arrest in eight years, against the legions of Trumpistas now being convicted) because of the absolute frothing depths of Republican hatred, racial conspiracy theories, and obstruction against him. (Remember Merrick Garland and how Mitch McConnell got away with that, and now we have Gorsuch and Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court? Because I remember that). If Obama had pulled one-tenth of the shit, one-twentieth of the shit that the Trump administration does every day, he would be gone. It also meant that people who only remember Obama think he was typical for an American president, and he wasn’t. Since about… Jimmy Carter, and definitely since Ronald Reagan, the American people have gone for the Trump model a lot more than the Obama model. Whatever your opinion on his politics or character, Obama was a constitutional law professor, a community activist, a neighborhood organizer and brilliant Ivy League intellectual who used to randomly lie awake at night thinking about income inequality. Americans don’t value intellectualism in their politicians; they just don’t. They don’t like thinking that “the elites” are smarter than them. They like the folksy populist who seems fun to have a beer with, and Reagan/Bush Senior/Clinton/Bush Junior sold this persona as hard as they possibly could. As noted in said post, Bush Junior (or Shrub as the late, great Molly Ivins memorably dubbed him) was Trump Lite but from a long-established political family who could operate like an outwardly civilized human.

The point is: when you think Obama was relatively normal (which, again, he wasn’t, for any number of reasons) and not the outlier in a much larger pattern of catastrophic damage that has been accelerated since, again, the 1980s (oh Ronnie Raygun, how you lastingly fucked us!), you miss the overall context in which this, and which Trump, happened. Like most left-wingers, I don’t agree with Obama’s recent and baffling decision to insert himself into the 2020 race and warn the Democratic candidates against being too progressive or whatever he was on about. I think he was giving into the same fear that appears to be motivating the remaining chunk of Joe Biden’s support: that middle/working-class white America won’t go for anything too wild or that might sniff of Socialism, and that Uncle Joe, recalled fondly as said folksy populist and the internet’s favorite meme grandfather from his time as VP, could pick up the votes that went to Trump last time. And that by nature, no one else can.

The underlying belief is that these white voters just can’t support anything too “un-American,” and that by pushing too hard left, Democratic candidates risk handing Trump a second term. Again: I don’t agree and I think he was mistaken in saying it. But I also can’t say that Obama of all people doesn’t know exactly the strength of the political machine operating against the Democratic Party and the progressive agenda as a whole, because he ran headfirst into it for eight years. The fact that he managed to pass any of his legislative agenda, usually before the Tea Party became a thing in 2010, is because Democrats controlled the House and Senate for the first two years of his first term. He was not perfect, but it was clear that he really did care (just look up the pictures of him with kids). He installed smart, efficient, and scandal-free people to do jobs they were qualified for. He gave us Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor to join RBG on the Supreme Court. All of this seems… like a dream.

That said: here we are in a place where Biden, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren are the front-runners for the Democratic nomination (and apparently Pete Buttigieg is getting some airplay as a dark horse candidate, which… whatever). The appeal of Biden is discussed above, and he sure as hell is not my favored candidate (frankly, I wish he’d just quit). But Sanders and Warren are 85% - 95% similar in their policy platforms. The fact that Michael “50 Billion Dollar Fortune” Bloomberg started rattling his chains about running for president is because either a Sanders or Warren presidency terrifies the outrageously exploitative billionaire capitalist oligarchy that runs this country and has been allowed to proceed essentially however the fuck they like since… you guessed it, the 1980s, the era of voodoo economics, deregulation, and the free market above all. Warren just happens to be ten years younger than Sanders and female, and Sanders’ age is not insignificant. He’s 80 years old and just had a heart attack, and there’s still a year to go to the election. It’s also more than a little eye-rolling to describe him as the only progressive candidate in the race, when he’s an old white man (however much we like and approve of his policy positions). And here’s the thing, which I think is a big part of the reason why this polarized ideological purity internet leftist culture mistrusts Warren:

She may have changed her mind on things in the past.

Scary, right? I sound like I’m being facetious, but I’m not. An argument I had to read with my own two eyes on this godforsaken hellsite was that since Warren became a Democrat around the time Clinton signed Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, she sekritly hated gay people and might still be a corporate sellout, so on and etcetera. (And don’t even get me STARTED on the fact that DADT, coming a few years after the height of the AIDS crisis which was considered God’s Judgment of the Icky Gays, was the best Clinton could realistically hope to achieve, but this smacks of White Gay Syndrome anyway and that is a whole other kettle of fish.) Bernie has always demonstrably been a democratic socialist, and: good for him. I’m serious. But because there’s the chance that Warren might not have thought exactly as she does now at any point in her life, the hysterical and paranoid left-wing elements don’t trust that she might not still secretly do so. (Zomgz!) It’s the same element that’s feeding cancel culture and “wokeness.” Nobody can be allowed to have shifted or grown in their opinions or, like a functional, thoughtful, non-insane adult, changed their beliefs when presented with compelling evidence to the contrary. To the ideological hordes, any hint of uncertainty or past failure to completely toe the line is tantamount to heresy. Any evidence of any other belief except The Correct One means that this person is functionally as bad as Trump. And frankly, it’s only the Sanders supporters who, just as in 2016, are threatening to withhold their vote in the general election if their preferred candidate doesn’t win the primary, and indeed seem weirdly proud about it.

OK, boomer Bernie or Buster.

Here’s the thing, the thing, the thing: there is never going to be an American president free of the deeply toxic elements of American ideology. There just won’t be. This country has been built how it has for 250 years, and it’s not gonna change. You are never going to have, at least not in the current system, some dream candidate who gets up there and parrots the left-wing talking points and attacks American imperialism, exceptionalism, ravaging global capitalism, military and oil addiction, etc. They want to be elected as leader of a country that has deeply internalized and taken these things to heart for its entire existence, and most of them believe it to some degree themselves. So this groupthink white liberal mentality where the only acceptable candidate is this Perfect Non-Problematic robot who has only ever had one belief their entire lives and has never ever wavered in their devotion to doctrine has really gotten bad. The Democratic Party would be considered… maybe center/mild left in most other developed countries. It’s not even really left-wing by general standards, and Sanders and Warren are the only two candidates for the nomination who are even willing to go there and explicitly put out policy proposals that challenge the systematic structure of power, oppression, and exploitation of the late-stage capitalist 21st century. Warren has the billionaires fussed, and instead of backing down, she’s doubling down. That’s part of why they’re so scared of her. (And also misogyny, because the world is depressing like that.) She is going head-on after picking a fight with some of the worst people on the planet, who are actively killing the rest of us, and I don’t know about you, but I like that.

Of course: none of this will mean squat if she (or the eventual Democratic winner, who I will vote for regardless of who it is, but as you can probably tell, she’s my ride or die) don’t a) win the White House and then do as they promised on the campaign trail, and b) don’t have a Democratic House and Senate willing to have a backbone and pass the laws. Even Nancy Pelosi, much as she’s otherwise a badass, held off on opening a formal impeachment inquiry into Trump for months out of fear it would benefit him, until the Ukraine thing fell into everyone’s laps. The Democrats are really horrible at sticking together and voting the party line the way Republicans do consistently, because Democrats are big-tent people who like to think of themselves as accepting and tolerant of other views and unwilling to force their members’ hands. The Republicans have no such qualms (and indeed, judging by their enabling of Trump, have no qualms at all). 

The modern American Republican party has become a vehicle for no-holds-barred power for rich white men at the expense of absolutely everything and everyone else, and if your rationale is that you can’t vote for the person opposing Donald Goddamn Trump is that you’re just not vibing with them on the language of that one policy proposal… well, I’m glad that you, White Middle Class Liberal, feel relatively safe that the consequences of that decision won’t affect you personally. Even if we’re due to be out of the Paris Climate Accords one day after the 2020 election, and the issue of climate change now has the most visibility it’s ever had after years of big-business, Republican-led efforts to deny and discredit the science, hey, Secret Corporate Shill, am I right? Can’t trust ‘er. Let’s go have a craft beer.

As has been said before: vote as far left as you want in the primary. Vote your ideology, vote whatever candidate you want, because the only way to make actual, real-world change is to do that. The huge, embedded, all-consuming and horrible system in which we operate is not just going to suddenly be run by fairy dust and happy thoughts overnight. Select candidates that reflect your values exactly, be as picky and ideologically militant as you want. That’s the time to do that! Then when it comes to the general election:

America is a two-party system. It sucks, but that’s the case. Third-party votes, or refraining from voting because “it doesn’t matter” are functionally useless at best and actively harmful at worst.

Either the Democratic candidate or Donald Trump will win the 2020 election.

There is absolutely no length that the Republican/GOP machine, and its malevolent allies elsewhere, will not go to in order to secure a Trump victory. None.

Any talk whatsoever about “progressive values” or any kind of liberal activism, coupled with a course of action that increases the possibility of a Trump victory, is hypocritical at best and actively malicious at worst.

This is why I found the Democratic response to Obama’s “don’t go too wild” comments interesting. Bernie doubled down on the fact that his plans have widespread public support, and he’s right. (Frankly, the fact that Sanders and Warren are polling at the top, and the fact that they’re politicians and would not be crafting these campaign messages if they didn’t know that they were being positively received, says plenty on its own). Warren cleverly highlighted and praised Obama’s accomplishments in office (i.e. the Affordable Care Act) and didn’t say squat about whether she agreed or disagreed with him, then went right back to campaigning about why billionaires suck. And some guy named Julian Castro basically blew Obama off and claimed that “any Democrat” could beat Trump in 2020, just by nature of existing and being non-insane.

This is very dangerous! Do not be Julian Castro!

As I said in my tags on the Bush post: everyone assumed that sensible people would vote for Kerry in 2004. Guess what happened? Yeah, he got Swift Boated. The race between Obama and McCain in 2008, even after those said nightmare years of Bush, was very close until the global crash broke it open in Obama’s favor, and Sarah Palin was an actual disqualifier for a politician being brazenly incompetent and unprepared. (Then again, she was a woman from a remote backwater state, not a billionaire businessman.) In 2012, we thought Corporate MormonBot Mitt Fuggin’ Romney was somehow the worst and most dangerous candidate the Republicans could offer. In 2016, up until Election Day itself, everyone assumed that HRC was a badly flawed candidate but would win anyway. And… we saw how that worked out. Complacency is literally deadly.

I was born when Reagan was still president. I’m just old enough to remember the efforts to impeach Clinton over forcing an intern to give him a BJ in the Oval Office (This led by the same Republicans making Donald Trump into a darling of the evangelical Christian right wing.) I’m definitely old enough to remember 9/11 and how America lost its mind after that, and I remember the Bush years. And, obviously, the contrast with Obama, the swing back toward Trump, and everything that has happened since. We can’t afford to do this again. We’re hanging by a thread as it is, and not just America, but the entire planet.

So yes. By all means, vote for Sanders in the primary. Then when November 3, 2020 rolls around, if you care about literally any of this at all, hold your nose if necessary and vote straight-ticket Democrat, from the president, to the House and Senate, to the state and local offices. I cannot put it more strongly than that.

[erensangel444]

i think i’m falling in love

oikawa tōru x reader

the title is inspired by i think by tyler the creator :-)

this fic is oikawa x fem!reader, if you guys would want to see some gender neutral fics just let me know in my asks inbox! i’m open to any suggestions, if you want a fic that’s specifically tailored to you whether that be race-wise, gender-wise, any disabilities, etc,. just let me know!

likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated:D

this fic has been proofread but if i missed something just let me know!

this would be oikawa in his last year(when he was a third-year), for this fic, the reader would also be a third-year!

a/n: i remember when i first started watching haikyū!! i had hated oikawa, and now looking back i don’t know how. he’s a beautifully written character and like actually thinking about it makes me so sad. he tries so hard and just :(            i’m gonna start crying about it again. 

there’s a lot of fluff in this fic, probably the most i’ve ever written, but there’s also smut cause you know your girl couldn’t resist🙄

warnings: language(most of my fics do contain language), drug usage(just weed, small mention), alcohol consumption, smut; semi-public sex(bathroom at a party), oral(fem and male!receiving), unprotected sex(use of the shitty pull-out method, practice safe sex don’t be a weirdo), dryhumping.

word count: 5.3k

summary: moments in oikawa tōru’s life that helped him come to the conclusion that he was in love with you.

oikawa didn’t think love was a real thing, and he knows that’s cliché, but it’s the truth. did you know that around 40-50% percent of marriages end in divorce? what’s the point in getting married if there’s only half a chance of it lasting? oikawa thought it seemed like too much work.

until he saw you, and then, maybe, he thought it might be worth it to work that hard. maybe he could understand why couples stay together despite the fights, the yelling matches. maybe he could take a stab at love.

or not. he expected you to fawn over him the first time you met, like most girls do(men too!), but you didn’t. in all honesty, you seemed bored while conversing with oikawa. you shattered his newly-born hopes of love...well maybe that’s a little dramatic, but oikawa was always one for the dramatic flair. 

from that moment forward, he had deduced that he strongly disliked you, at least he had until that one day in math class. he was struggling, the equations on the pages seeming like an entirely different language. he was huffing out breaths in frustration, roughly erasing the writing his pencil had made. 

he was certain he was doomed, there was a test tomorrow and this review made no sense, yet there was a glimmer of hope when he felt that light tap on his shoulder.

he looked up, meeting your eyes, all doe-like, a light blush on your cheeks as you sentence stumbled from your lips, “h-hey um it seemed like you were a little confused, um i-i could help if you’d want,”. oikawa couldn’t do anything but stare up at you, “or- or not! maybe it was rude for me to come over here, sorry-” “no, i could actually use some help,”. oikawa’s response caused a smile to show on your face, and for a split second he dreamt of making you smile like that for the rest of your life. 

he brought himself back to reality, remembering his declared disdain towards you, but all of it slowly drifted away as you grabbed a chair from a nearby table, setting it down next to oikawa’s desk and sitting down.  “so what’s confusing you?” you asked, your voice soft as you peered up at oikawa. 

he couldn’t control the slight blush that rushed to his cheeks, calming himself down before he spoke, “well i’m confused on the variables, and i don’t understand what i’m supposed to do after setting it equal to zero, and it doesn’t help that the professor doesn’t teach for shit,” he whispered the last part, causing you to laugh a little as you grabbed the pencil from his hand. 

oikawa shuddered at your laugh, and at the contact of your hand on his, even if it was for a slight moment. there was too much of you stimulating him at once, fuck, what were you doing to him? 

“i know he fucking sucks,” you responded, the word slipping out of your mouth seeming so foreign to oikawa, even if he had only talked to you for a couple minutes, but he liked it, nonetheless. “okay so,” you turned oikawa’s paper slightly towards you, “after setting it equal to 0, you have factor the quadratic equation,”. your handwriting looked so neat compared to his, so delicate. he listened intently as you continued writing on the paper, your tongue slipping out to wet your lips. 

after explaining it to him, he tried one at your request, the math seeming easier now, no eraser marks littering the page. after checking his answer, you grinned at oikawa, lifting your hand up. oikawa was confused for a moment, smiling after realizing, and softly high-fiving you. 

oikawa started to notice you in the hallways after that day in math class. you walked through the halls not necessarily confidently, but giving off an aura of aloofness. it was almost like you thought no one was paying attention to you. ‘how could you think that?’ oikawa thought. he was paying attention, he couldn’t help but to pay attention.

not when you always carried your binder under your left arm, it slipping some times, causing a slightly shocked expression to grace your blank face as you resettled it in your arms. your tote bag slang off of your right shoulder, a light cream color. he always noticed your outfits, different for every day of the week. he always thought they were cute though, fitting for you. 

he noted the rings on your fingers, the necklaces you sometimes wore. some days you had on makeup, other days you were bare-face. he thought both were equally beautiful.

after a couple days of passing you in the hall, he finally worked up the courage to wave to you. his hand softly ran through the air, his arm rigid. yet, you didn’t notice him, your eyes taken by something else. the failed greeting embarrassed oikawa immensely, he remembered beating himself up about it for the rest of the day.

when he thought about trying again, he realized he should probably just call your name. which he couldn’t remember. you had met last year, and in his memory, the entire encounter was centered around his ‘dislike’ for you. you also hadn’t told him your name in math class. he racked his brain for any memory, wanting to know the name that fit your pretty face. 

in the hallway the next, day he decided he’d just yell out a ‘hey!’, hoping you’d turn to him, which you did. oikawa waved at you, a smile lighting up your face -god he could get used to that- as you waved back. oikawa couldn’t help but feel your smile for the rest of the day.

he had learned your name the next day in math class, the teacher calling on you. ‘y/n’, he almost didn’t catch the teacher say it, but he did, and he was so glad he did. lying in his bed later that night, he let the word fall off his lips, your name quietly echoing throughout his room. he couldn’t imagine calling you anything else, it fit you so well.

a couple of days later(he had waved at you every day since), you were walking in the hall with a friend. more specifically a friend who was a boy. honestly it didn’t matter their gender, oikawa would’ve been jealous either way. why were they making you smile like that, and why was your binder in their arms instead of in it’s usual spot, tucked under your left arm?

he wanted to walk in the halls with you, look down at you smiling at him. he devised a plan that night, running through the scenario in his head before he fell asleep. 

the next day, he called out your name as you walked out the door of the math classroom, doing a slight jog to catch up with you. “hey, um i never got to thank you,” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “for that day in math” he explained, as he continued, attempting to push down his nerves. “you really helped me,” this caused you to smile softly, and oikawa couldn’t help but smile back at you. that’s all he wanted, to make you smile. 

“of course, no problem,” you had said softly. oikawa offered to walk you to your next class, and you obliged. suddenly it shifted into a daily thing, walking out of math class with you, and oikawa could get used to it. 

he learned more about you every day, your favorite movie was pride and prejudice, you loved key lime pie, you had a mini-garden in your backyard, you hated shellfish, you loved painting, you never left the house without chapstick. he found himself adapting to your humor, telling jokes that he knew would make you laugh. he wanted to hear your laugh all the time, he wanted it to echo throughout his brain on a constant loop.

in math class one day, you had pulled lotion out of your bag, popping open the cap, and squirting some into your hand. upon seeing you pull it out of your bag, oikawa walked over to your desk with his hand held out, “can i have some?” his voice was light as he looked down at you, a dollop of lotion in your hand. “yeah!” you said softly, rubbing some of the lotion from your hand onto oikawa’s.

he had just expected you to give him some from the bottle, and he could walk back to his desk, happy with the small encounter. now as he walked back to his desk, he was happy, so happy, but reeling at your touch. he wanted to feel your hand on his again, he longed for it now, knowing now what it felt like. why couldn’t you just give him lotion from the bottle?

oikawa had gathered the courage to ask for your number a couple days later, and to his delight you smiled after telling him that you planned to ask him for his. the idea caused him to smile internally as he wondered if you thought about him as much as he thought about you.

the nights after he had put his number in your phone were spent texting you. he’d send you random tweets that he’d thought you’d like, and videos that reminded you of him -he wouldn’t ever tell you that, though. one night when he had decided to watch pride and prejudice, for no apparent reason, he sent you a picture, to which you replied with a picture of your hand covering your mouth, your eyes lit up. he stared at the picture for a solid five minutes, unable to tear his eyes away.

you looked so pretty, your hair up in a bun, your eyes looking up at the camera. he finally shut off his phone, turning back to the movie, excited to see you the next day.

one night, oikawa texted and asked you if you wanted to facetime. instant regret filled him after sending the text, his search history littered with ‘how to delete imessage’ ‘is there a way to delete message on iphone’. he opened the text app back up, three bubbles popping up on the screen. they disappeared shortly after, oikawa’s regret increasing. 

he threw his phone down on the bed, shoving his head into his pillow as he muttered, “fuckin’ stupid, god what am i doi-”, a text message ping interrupting his self-deprecating mumbles. the text from you read, ‘hey, sorry just got out the shower, i was trying to text before but i got a fucking eyelash in my eye LMAO’ oikawa chuckled at your message, a second one popping up below, ‘lemme get dressed rq and then i’ll call u:D’. 

oikawa had so many thoughts rushing through his brain. you were in the shower? after rationalizing, he realized he shouldn’t be surprised that you showered, it was just the fact that you were naked in the shower. and if you were getting dressed now, that means you were naked while you texted him. 

oikawa attempted to shift his thoughts elsewhere, chastising himself in his head for being a ‘perv’. he didn’t need a boner while he was on a facetime call with you. he thought about how you offered to call him, did you really want to? he had hoped you weren’t just doing this to pity him.

his phone rang, interrupting his slew thoughts, your name flashing against his screen. he fumbled for his phone, his finger hesitating before he hit the green button. “hi,” you said softly. oikawa took in your appearance, a few water droplets still falling from your hair, your eyebrows slightly disheveled, cheeks a light pink. “hey” he responded. 

“why’d you wanna facetime?” you asked, oikawa blushing more at your question, ready to respond before you continued. “not that i didn’t want to too, cause i did, i do, i w-was just wondering why you wanted to,” oikawa smiled at the camera before speaking. “well i thought that we really needed to discuss the plot holes in pride and prejudice,”.

oikawa had spent the whole night talking to you, reluctantly hanging up at 4AM.

the nights after that were followed by facetime calls, oikawa’s mom knocking on his door and telling him to quiet down, his laughter too loud. on one call, he had invited you to his volleyball game the next day, and you quickly said that you’d ‘love to go’, oikawa’s smile growing.

surprisingly, he wasn’t nervous. oikawa knew he was good at volleyball, everybody did. he knew that this was a moment where he could show off in front of you. what if he hits the net on a serve though? 

okay, so maybe he was a little nervous, but he wouldn’t let his nerves consume him. stepping onto the court, he did his best not to look up at the crowd, not wanting to see your smiling face in the stands. he was set to serve first, the volleyball in his hands a familiar feeling, comforting him. 

the power behind his serve was incredible, one of the best one’s he’s hit, he thought to himself. the ball landed right in the corner of the opposing team’s court, before bouncing out of bounds. 

a service ace right out the bat. oikawa cheered in his head, his teammates patting him on the back. “are you gonna look for her now or what,” iwaizumi said to him, ever so-bluntly, “looking down at the floor like a pussy,” hajime muttered the last part. “iwa-chan!” oikawa slightly raised his voice, his eyes looking up towards the stands.

you had secured a seat in the front row, and when oikawa noticed your face he couldn’t help but smile. you were grinning down at him, waving like a lunatic, causing him to lightly chuckle. he waved back, the volleyball being handed back to him as he set up for his second serve. 

you had waited outside the locker room for him, and when he walked out with iwaizumi and issei, he spotted you leaning against the wall parallel to the locker room door, scrolling through your phone. hearing the door open, you looked up, meeting oikawa’s smiling face.

“hey,” he said softly, his heart doing flips at the fact that you waited for him. you responded softly with a ‘hi’, holding your arms open for a hug. oikawa couldn’t help but grin, his heartbeat growing in pace as he pulled you in for a hug, his arms falling to the small of your back. “did so good,” you said, your voice muffled by his chest. 

“thank you,” he smiled at you, “for-for uh coming,” “of course,” you smiled back at him. suddenly an awkward tension had consumed the conversation, both of you peering at the other, than looking away, the silent words behind your looks so obvious. “so i- “i just-”, you both started at the same time. you laughed, oikawa joining in as he motioned for you to go first. 

“um, i-i came today because i wanted to, but also cause i wanted to ask you something,” oikawa nodded for you to continue, biting his lip in anticipation. “i feel like i’m not just imaging things here, and i don-don’t want you to think you are either,” you hesitated for a moment, oikawa noticing it before speaking up, “i like you,” he said abruptly. he could feel his blood pumping, feel his heart beating on his chest. you smiled at him, eyes wide, “i-i like you too,”. you both stared at each other in silence, the eye contact easier. “what now?” you said jokingly, oikawa laughing. “wanna go get mcdonald’s?”

the first few weeks with you had been bliss, oikawa thinks that he’s died and floated up to heaven. you’ve gone on small adventures together, late night drives, reveling in the honeymoon-like phase of your new relationship. now, oikawa sits across from you atop the striped picnic blanket. oikawa knew that this past week had been stressful for you with school and some stuff going on with your friends so he decided to surprise you with a picnic.

he got sushi from your favorite place, ordering a wide-spread of different rolls and then picked up two boba drinks before heading to your house. much to your dismay, he wouldn’t tell you where you were going until you could hear the water brushing along the shoreline, oikawa had taken you to the beach.

now, there you sat on the blanket on the sand, sushi laid out in front of you as you took in the beautiful day, a slight breeze brushing past your figures, small clouds in the sky. oikawa grabbed a california roll with his chopsticks, bringing it over to you as you opened for mouth for the food. “so good,” you mumbled mouth full of california roll causing oikawa to chuckle. 

“my mom asked about you today,” oikawa noticed the slight hiccup in your breath as he continued, “wants to meet you,” you stayed silent, peering at oikawa. “no pressure, if you don’t want to, i just wanted to let you know,”. you took a sip from you drink before you spoke, “no i want to. just nervous, don’t wanna make a fool of myself,”. oikawa smiled at that, happy that you wanted to make a good impression with his mom. “she’ll love you,” he said softly, blush rushing to your cheeks. 

“here you have to try this tuna roll,” you said, the roll between your chopsticks and headed for oikawa’s mouth. “mmm so good,” oikawa said mimicking your response, making a show of the food in his mouth. you laughed before shoving him, “you’re disgusting,” 

oikawa had picked you up for dinner at his house, and now here you both were, in his car, in the driveway of his home. he could see you bouncing your leg, your bottom lip taken in by your teeth. “you’re gonna be fine, i promise she’ll love you,” “i hope so,” you said, your voice so quiet. 

oikawa racked his brain for a way to help calm your nerves, settling for a kiss. his lips met yours, and you whimpered at the abruptness, but kissed him back. your leg stopped it’s incessant bouncing, and oikawa smiled at you. “alright i’m ready,” you said softly. you reached for the car door, oikawa stopping you with an ‘uh uh uh’, exiting the driver side of the car and running over to the passenger side to open your door.

“my knight in shining armor,” you joked, oikawa grinning at you. the pair of you walked to his front door, hand in hand. oikawa wasn’t nervous, he knew his mom would love you because she knew that he loved you. woah. he loved you. or maybe it was the excitement of the night forcing him to say those words. he pushed the thought away, opening his front door as he yelled out a “i’m home!”

his mom ran over from the kitchen, looking to you and then oikawa and smiling so brightly. “hi!” she said, her voiced laced with excitement as she shuffled over to you, pulling you in for a hug, “i’m a hugger,” you laughed, hugging her back. 

“oikawa’s talked about you so much,” “mom!” your smile grew. you took off your shoes, setting them neatly next to the door, oikawa’s mom leading you to the kitchen. it smelled amazing, meat buns sat in a container on the stove, orange chicken in a separate container next to them. white rice was in the steamer, the whole kitchen filled with wonderful smells.

oikawa pulled out a chair for you as you thanked him, sitting down. eventually the food was in front of you, oikawa had made your plate for you, asking if you wanted anything to drink. he began rambling, listing off options, but you opted for water in not wanting to be difficult. 

you all sat, oikawa’s mom and you discussing your current course schedule in school as she smiled “oikawa bagged a smart and pretty one, i raised him right,”. you couldn’t help but blush at her words, oikawa smiling at your reaction.

dinner had left your stomach happy, oikawa’s mom giving you another hug when you left and making you promise that you’d be back soon. oikawa ushered you into his car, holding your door open for him. he told his mom you were driving to get icecream from somewhere, and that wasn’t necessarily a lie.

you had gotten the icecream, it’s just that now it sat, forgotten in the passenger seat as you straddled oikawa in the backseat, your mouths moving against each other, your hips grinding on his. “fuck,” oikawa panted against your lips, the friction of your hips grinding on his feeling indescribable.

before you knew it, you were grinding on oikawa’s lap like a woman possessed, set on reaching your high. “tōru,” your voice sounded so soft, oikawa did a double take. he’d only heard his first name slip past your lips one time, and the desperation that came with it this time had his cock straining in his pants even more.

“g-gonna cum!” you yelped, your hips stuttering from the pleasure. oikawa’s hands drifted to your hips, rocking you on his lap, wanting you to reach your high, but also desperate for his own. your whimpers increased in volume as you finally reached your orgasm, your face contorting in pleasure. seeing you come on his lap was all oikawa need to cream his pants, the liquid seeping through the fabric of his boxers and black jeans.

you both panted, catching your breath, your head laying in oikawa’s shoulder. “that was fucking hot,” oikawa remarked, causing you to laugh and remove your head from his shoulder, pulling him in for a kiss. 

oikawa had invited you over a couple nights later to watch a movie. you had come over in plaid pajama pants and one of oikawa’s hoodies that you had borrowed last week. you were laid in his bed, snuggling into his figure, Love, Rosie playing on his laptop. As the movie progressed, and the popcorn disappeared from the bowl, you began to slowly drift into sleep, feeling comfort from being so close to oikawa.

as the movie neared it’s end, oikawa could hear your light breaths, looking down at your sleeping figure. drool had slightly started to dribble out of your mouth, your eyes were shut ever so softly, and you looked so peaceful. so angelic, oikawa thought. he wanted to wake up to this, to you for the rest of his life.

‘getting ahead of myself’ oikawa reasoned, pushing away any and all thoughts of the future as he relished in your sleeping features and irked at the funny feeling in his stomach, was it butterflies? it was something, because he felt it whenever he saw you. you turned his brain to mush, made his heart beat faster. oikawa’s love for you was so obvious on a physical level just based on how he reacted to anything and everything you did. 

his love for you was obvious, wasn’t it? did you know he loved you? he loves you. ‘i love you’ the words softly fell from his lips, the breaths still falling from your lips as you slept. 

your parents were out of town, your mom on a business trip, your dad visiting some friends in the states. you had invited oikawa over to bake some brownies, but somehow baking led to his head now being buried between your thighs.

“oh my-tōru!” you moaned, oikawa’s tongue working magic on your clit. he changed from kitten licks to sucking, moaning into your center, the vibrations making you whimper even more. his fingers plunged in and out of your entrance.

oikawa had transcended from himself, or at least he thought he had. there was no way he was buried between your thighs right now, your pretty moans sounding from above him. there was no way he was holding eye contact with you as he sucked on your clit, admiring the blush accompanying your features. 

“gonna cum for me angel?” oikawa wanted you to come so bad, he wanted you to feel good, he wanted to be the one to make you feel good. “yes, yes, yes-please!” oikawa increased the intensity of his tongue lapping at your clit, the pace of his fingers increasing. 

one more look down at tōru had you coming, your hands moving to grip his hair as your orgasmed. panting, recovering from your orgasm, oikawa kissed up your body, nipping at your jaw up to your lips, kissing you passionately. 

“did so good for me, angel,” oikawa mumbled into your lips. you pulled him in for another kiss, your hand drifting down to the bulge in his pants, palming him through the fabric. 

“fuck,” oikawa softly moaned, grinding into your palm. you pushed him over, oikawa laying on the other side of the bed. your hands navigated their way to the hem of his sweatpants, tapping his hip, oikawa lifting up. you tugged the pants down his legs, his boxers along with them.

his cock bounced back to his stomach, hard and leaking precum. oikawa eyed you as your hand drifted to the base of his cock, your tongue licking at the tip, oikawa moaning loudly. he had definitely gone to heaven.

eventually your mouth and hand were moving in tandem on his cock, moans flying freely from oikawa’s lips. “fuck! y/n, god, making me feel so go-ood!”. oikawa thrusted his hips up into your mouth, his hands holding on to your hair. you placed your hands on his thigh letting him thrust into your mouth. 

“go-gonna cum!” you moved one hand down to his balls, rolling them in your hand and moaning around his cock. “shit-ah!”, toru’s cum flooded your mouth as his mind went numb from the pleasure. he’d never felt like this, god, you were ruining him. 

you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show tōru that you had swallowed all of his cum. “god you’re so fucking dirty,” oikawa said smirking at you, pulling you in for another kiss.

you and oikawa sat in his car, passing the joint between yourselves, staring at the sunset, stealing glances at one another. you inhaled, the joint placed between your lips, the substance filling your lungs.

oikawa couldn’t help but stare at you, “you’re so fucking pretty,” he whispered. “no you’re so fucking pretty,” you smiled at him. “we’re both fucking pretty let’s be honest,” oikawa joked, pulling you in for a kiss.

‘wanna be yours’ by artic monkeys came on shuffle through the speaker’s as you mouthed the lyrics. “i’m hungry” oikawa said plainly, “jack in the box?” you offered, oikawa turning the car into drive. more songs shuffled, oikawa turning up the volume when cupid’s chokehold blasted through the speakers.

he had rolled the windows down, his left hand hanging out the window. he turned towards you, his eyes shifting from the road to your face, singing the lyrics to you, ‘i mean she even cooks me pancakes and alka seltzer when my tummy aches,’ his hand held yours atop the console, his left hand now on the steering wheel. ‘i know i’m young but if i had to choose her or the sun i’d be one nocturnal son of a gun’ your smile grew, staring at oikawa as he pulled into the jack in the box drive-thru. 

there were no other cars, oikawa pulling straight up to the machine. “hi could we get two buttery jack meals with curly fries and chocolate milkshakes for both,”, the server read back your order, telling oikawa the total, oikawa saying a curt thank you.

oikawa had pulled into a an empty parking lot, the music shifted to nights by frank ocean, both you and oikawa digging into your food. oikawa looked over at you, seemingly mesmerized by your buttery jack. you looked up at the sound of his laughter, staring at him perplexed before laughing too. 

oikawa had dragged you a party that daichi was throwing. you walked in waving at a girl from your history class, oikawa dragging you to the kitchen by your hand. he grabbed two shot glasses, pouring tequila into them. he clinked his glass with yours, throwing the liquid back into his throat

you walked next to oikawa working your way through the mass of sweaty bodies, spotting hajime in the crowd. oikawa patted him on the back, iwaizumi wincing at his heavy-handiness. while oikawa talked with hajime, you whispered letting him know you were gonna go talk to kiyoko, oikawa nodding and giving you a quick kiss. he watched you walk away, your ass looking so good in those pants. his eyes traveled up your figure to your smiling face, his own smile growing. 

after talking for a while, oikawa walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and kissing your cheek. “wanna go dance?” you nodded, waving bye to kiyoko, oikawa leading you to the middle of the room. ‘can’t say’ by travis scott. oikawa’s chest pressed against your back, your hands looping around to the back of his neck. 

after a few songs played, someone yelled out ‘body shots!’ people shuffling into the kitchen. oikawa pushed through the crowd bringing you to the countertop.  he lifted you up to sit on the countertop, people cheering as you laid down. he poured a shot glass of tequila, sprinkling salt over your cleavage, while eyeing it heavily. he placed the lime in your mouth smirking at you. 

oikawa shot back the alcohol, wincing at the burn. his tongue lolled out of his mouth, licking the salt on your cleavage, moving to your lips. his body hovered over yours, his lips meeting yours. he sucked the lime from your mouth, pulling away and spitting the lime out before moving down to your lips again, kissing you harshly. louder cheers sounded through the room.

oikawa pulled away as you blushed, grinning nonetheless. you grabbed the tequila pouring another shot and letting the liquid fall down your throat. ‘woo!’ you let out, shaking your head at the burn from the alcohol, dragging oikawa back out to the other room.

somehow, you and oikawa had navigated your way to the bathroom, tōru’s cock deep inside you as your moans accompanied the music playing throughout the house.

“g-gonna cum!” “me too, fuc-ah! come on angel, gotta come now,” oikawa pleaded with you, pushing you over the edge. oikawa pulled out, jerking himself off, and coming on your back.

“god,” he sighed, leaning on the wall next to you. you both grinned at each other, your lips meeting again.

your phone was ringing, tōru was calling. you answered as he said hi, his voice shaky. “are you okay?” you worried, oikawa assuring you everything was fine, “just come outside,”. confused, you threw on some pants and walked downstairs unlocking your front door.

“tōru? are you okay, you look sick,” “i need to tell you something,”. oikawa realizes now that maybe wording it that way was stupid, he could see in your facial expression your heart drop to your stomach. “no! nothing bad,” “oh okay” you sighed softly.

“i-i feel like i should’ve said this earlier, and i wanted t-to i just didn’t know how to,” you nodded at him, grabbing his hand and brushing your thumb along the back of his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

“i love you,” oikawa blurted out. “i love you so fucking much,” he said again. meeting your eyes, oikawa couldn’t help but feel nervous, he was stupid for doing this, he knew it too, yet all those thoughts melted away when he felt your lips on his.

“i love you too,” you said, smiling, your eyes slightly watering. though you and tōru had been dating for a decent amount of time, you both knew the weight those words carried.

tōru felt the weight of those words as they left his lips, and he wanted them to flow past his lips forever. he wanted their weight, he wanted his love to impact you and only you.

fin

yay! i loved writing this fic :D i really hope you guys enjoyed it, sending you so much love<3

[aomineavenue]

betrayal

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Genre: angst (like honestly, tell me what else do I know to write for?)

Summary: finding the other cheated.

Word Count: 1k+

Mia’s General Taglist: 

@luvelyxp​ @paripedia​ @bokukiyoom​ @sunnyatsumu​ @centuress​ @doggonudez​ @newfriendjen​ @kodzukrn​ @anjvxmmv​ @keijikunn​ @maramalademadara​ @chaelysian​ 

mia speaks:

annnd, i’m back from my little break? I’m feeling a little better. I’m writing on my own pace though, I’m avoiding using my gadgets as much. But anywayyy, thank you so much for everyone’s love and patience. 

If it’s not too much, please leave a little COMMENT on this piece or at least REBLOG if you like it. Thank you so much! 

"Oh! I'm sorry!" You cry out, throwing your hands up in the air and letting out a dry laugh, "I didn't mean to throw that vase at you, it was an accident!" Your rampage began, anything you can get your hands on, a book, the tv remote, a magazine, a pillow, just anything, was thrown around the room and he dodged it the best that he could. 

Betrayal. 

It's a violation of a presumptive contract, trust, or confidence that produces moral and psychological conflict amongst individuals. It's considered one of the most painful, traumatising experiences any human may stumble upon throughout their existence. Discovering such an act from someone we trust, may often lead to various emotions that pull the reality rug from under us.

It comes in many forms. Such as abandonment, breaking promises and even the spread of vicious lies behind someone's back. 

In your case, however, it's when you come to face reality that the man you agreed to marry just a few months prior, was nowhere near faithful as he claimed to be. Or to put it simply, the bastard was having an affair. 

You had been too preoccupied with wedding plans, that you grew ignorant of the blunt signs visible to the naked eye. You were foolish. The two of you haven't even tied the knot yet and there he was, already breaking the sacred promise of a marriage. 

For a brief second, you had foolishly wanted nothing more than to look the other way. When he had stumbled home in such an ungodly hour, drunk off his ass, you had wanted nothing more than to reprimand his behaviour as he woke you up from your slumber. As you were about to, however, the whiff of an unfamiliar fruity aroma had attacked your senses the second you had stepped into his proximity. 

Of course, you weren't the type of woman to berate their significant other over such a trifling concept without hearing his side of the story, you knew such behaviour will be a downfall for any relationship. 

You brushed such an idea off, as much as the scent was bothering you, there was no use in questioning him in his intoxicated state. Well, that is, until you had stepped closer and that's when you saw it.

Bruises, no doubt growing darker as seconds passed by, littered decoratively on his skin, as if left intentionally on his neck for the world to see. For you to see.

That's when your own world falls apart. The walls that the both of you had built together to strengthen your relationship, crumbling apart, taking what you had presumed were strong foundations along with it. 

You actually find it hilarious how, just moments ago, he had been stumbling into the shared apartment the two of you had worked so hard for, drunk off his ass, a giggling mess, not being able to comprehend the words that left his mouth. Then all of that changed the moment your lips moved to spew accusations towards his direction, it was as if the alcohol had escaped out of his system almost immediately through the sweat he had produced, obviously from the fear of the consequences of his actions. 

He calls out your name desperately to capture your attention, you wanted to leave the apartment you called home right this second, the atmosphere suffocating you further. You try your best to blink away the tears, but you know it's impossible as your vision grows glossy. 

"Please," he cries out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you back, "Please just wait, let's—"

"Oikawa," you croak, he flinches from your tone and how you addressed him by his last name. He begs, he cries, telling you to call him Tooru, pleading with you with his desperate eyes. "Oikawa," you repeat, wincing from his tight grip as you turn to face him, his heart clenches to see your eyes filled with nothing but hate and tears, the love he had grown accustomed to seeing, nowhere to be found. "Oikawa, let go!" You shake your wrist out of his hold, refusing to give him the satisfaction of you staying, whatever for anyway? The idea of listening to his excuses only breaks your heart further, you didn't want to see him, not right now, maybe not ever. You certainly didn't want to hear how such bruises even came about to taint his skin. You didn't even want to look at them anymore, you didn't want to look at him. The sight of his disheveled state, the bruises on his neck taunting you, squeezing your heart and you're finding it even harder to breathe. 

His desperation shows as he follows you, or rather blocks you from your very evident goal, reaching the front door to escape this sham of a relationship. "Please, let me explain. It was an accident—"

The sight of the tears forming in his own eyes makes you laugh, despite your heart hurting, that it was being pulled apart and all you wanted to do was dissolve into tears, anger began taking over your emotions and to Oikawa, it was clear as the night sky despite the alcohol still swimming in his system, that his begging was futile. 

"An accident?" You bark, features contorting into anger as your fingernails bury into your palms, "Do you take me for someone who lacks brain cells? Letting a woman kiss you? That's an accident?"

He winces from the harshness of your tone as he watches you move in the small living room that once radiated so much love and warmth. He knows he fucked up, he knows his answers were no use. The very idea of cheating was taboo for you and what did he do? He fucked up. He knows whatever form of reasoning will never be enough, but he knows he wants to fix the damage he had done. "Please, just listen. It really was just an accident. Baby, you have to—"

"Don't call me that!" You snap at him, using what little energy you have left to push him away from you, his scent mixed with the aroma of alcohol and the fruity perfume were enough to suffocate you. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

His heart hurts upon hearing those words but he continues begging, dropping down to his knees in front of you but you couldn't even bring yourself to care. The mere sound of his voice reaching your ears were enough to fuel the enraged flames surrounding your heart. He tries to approach you, as cautiously as he could but you respond quickly to his actions, taking a step back. 

Silence. 

The cold air blows through the opened windows and enters the tiny room but despite its cool temperature, it wasn't enough to overpower the heat from the anger and tension radiating off from you. You avoided his pleading gaze, staring straight at the wall behind him as you seethe in anger. You feel your exhaustion dragging you down, your muscles hesitating on letting your guard down. The final straw was when he repeated his sorry excuse. It was an accident. 

Your fingers wrapped hastily around the nearest vase and threw it towards his direction. He was quick on his feet despite being tipsy, dodging to the side. The vase hits the wall behind him, smashing into smaller pieces and sliding down to the carpeted floor, the fresh flowers that he had given you a few days prior that occupied the vase, scattered along with the broken fragments. He turned to look at the broken vase and then back at you, despite the fear in his eyes, he was still begging. 

"Oh! I'm sorry!" You cry out, throwing your hands up in the air and letting out a dry laugh, "I didn't mean to throw that vase at you, it was an accident!" Your rampage began, anything you can get your hands on, a book, the tv remote, a magazine, a pillow, just anything, was thrown around the room and he dodged it the best that he could. 

He cries out your name, begging you to stop. "Please, I'm sorry. Please, just listen to me."

Your eyes caught the picture frame that rested on one of the shelves and a lump forms in the back of your throat. The picture was the very first picture of the both of you. The day that the two of you met. Without wasting another second, you grabbed it from its location and hurled it towards his direction. The frame misses him by an inch, smashing against the wall with a crack and his heart sinks further, he knows how much you loved that photo. He would often catch you in the early mornings with a cup of your favourite tea, staring at the photo with a smile on your face.

He ruined that. 

"I'm sorry, Oikawa." You drawl sarcastically, letting out another laugh, "I didn't mean to throw those things, especially our picture but hey! It was an accident, right?"

"I'm sorry," he murmurs softly in defeat, shifting his gaze down to his hands. 

You shake your head at him, “I don’t ever want to see you again.” 

And before he could comprehend what was happening, you had already fled the apartment with your car keys. 

[vivianweasley]

Winking and Rolling Eyes (Fred Weasley X Reader)

Summary: You and the Weasley twins are best friends but you and Fred just couldn’t stop bickering. It’s all fun and games until you see him flirting with other girls. Why can’t he just stop being so mean to you and maybe finally see you as a potential girlfriend? Friends to lover

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fred being mean? a little bit of angst, blood (Umbridge’s quill), mention of food

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: For some reasons, I always pictured Fred to be the kind of guy who would be mean to the girl he likes just to get her attention lol. Tell me what you guys think about this!

Please do NOT repost my work or translate it on another site without permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

1995

Your head was always filled with weird random questions. For example right now, you were sitting in the Great Hall contemplating over why do some people tease and taunt the person they love, instead of actually showing their affection like a normal human being. What’s the reason behind this kind of action? And more importantly, why are you guilty of this too?

But what made you more confused was, when exactly did Fred and George become so bloody popular??

They were walking pass a group of Gryffindor girls now. The girls were blushing and some were even fixing their hair. “Hi Fred! Hi George!” 

“Hi girls!” George replied with a cheeky grin and Fred even winked at them.

You couldn’t help but rolled your eyes. You and the Weasley twins were best friends since the first year, but this year they became so popular, attracting many girls’ attention. You weren’t surprised. They were great beaters and their pranks were epic. Not to mention how bloody attractive they were. Of course they were going to attract people’s attention. Unlike you, who were just an ordinary girl, sitting in the corner and always daydreaming.

“What are you thinking about?” George’s voice pulled you back to reality.

“Y/N you know, if you keep rolling your eyes like that, one day they might never roll back.” Fred opened his eyes wide, looking like he was trying to scare a kid with a ghost story.

Yet you rolled your eyes again, “if you keep winking, one day your eyelids might fall off.”

“Y/N that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Like you ever made any sense!”

“We’re going to Hogsmeade. Do you wanna come?” George broke off your childish bickering.

“Sure!” You just ran out of chocolate so it was a perfect chance for you to go to Honeydukes and restock.

“Ugh I don’t wanna go with this woman. She rolls her eyes way too much.”

“Just shut up!”

You have no idea what Honeydukes was thinking. Why would they put their products on such a high shelf. Apparently, the girl next to you were having the same concerns. She was standing on tip-toe, struggling to reach high, but she failed to even touch that bag of sugar quills.

But someone next to her reached out and grabbed that bag of sugar quills for her.

“Your sugar quill.” Fred bent over a little and handed that girl her sugar quills in a really dramatic way.

That girl was blushing now, “Thanks!”

“Oi Fred, while you’re at it, I want one too.” you asked. It should be easy, since he was still standing beside it.

“Help yourself, shorty.” But he smiled at you mischievously and just walked away.

Watching him disappearing in the crowd, you rolled your eyes and reached for your wand, “Accio!”

And things like that kept on happening.

Fred and George were banned from partnering in potion class, since students’ cauldrons tend to explode mysteriously whenever the twins were partners. You and Fred were also banned from partnering, because your cauldron also tend to explode whenever the two of you were partners.

So today, Fred was partnering with a Hufflepuff girl in potion class and you were sitting behind them. You swore to Merlin that Fred was flirting with that girl the entire class period. 

That you endured, but what really got on your nerves was when you heard him saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on the fire, or else the cauldron will explode just like Y/N’s.”

You felt like all the blood in your body has suddenly rushed into your head due to anger. Last time when you asked him to keep an eye on the fire so you could read the instructions, he replied, “Can’t you do it yourself?” You got mad at him and didn’t pay attention when the fire was growing tall, causing your cauldron to explode.

Now you felt like your temper has exploded, and unfortunately, your cauldron exploded with it.

“Miss (Y/L/N), does your cauldron have a problem or do you have a problem?” you heard Snape’s cold monotone.

“I’m sorry professor.”

You glared at Fred. He was trying so hard to hold back his laughter that his face was flushed. You looked at him and you looked at your now messy table, you couldn’t help but rolled your eyes. Merlin, maybe he was right. Maybe you did roll your eyes way too often.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Then strange things started to happen. Many girls started to wave at you too. And you soon realized the reason behind this.

One day, a Ravenclaw girl came to you. It looked like she was hesitant but she still managed to get the question out, “Are you...are you Fred or George’s girlfriend?

“What? No!” You were just confused. Why would she assume that? Has she seen how Fred treated you? Who would treat their girlfriend like that?

“Great!” She let out a sigh of relief and then handed you a small box, “Could you please give this to Fred for me? Thanks!”

“Sure?” She ran away after you took the box, leaving you there with your feet glued to the floor and having no idea how to feel about this.

Curiosity was urging you to open that box and see what’s inside, but your conscience stopped you. Judging by her blush and the pink wrapping, it was probably a love letter or chocolate or something of that sort.

You didn’t know why, but you suddenly didn’t want to help her anymore. A part of you even urged you to throw the box away, but at the end you still delivered the box to Fred.

“Blimey Y/N, didn’t know you fancy me!” He took the box and gasped dramatically.

“No idiot, this is from another girl.” You slapped him on his arm, “I sort of just became her wing-woman.” 

“Aww Y/N, don’t feel discouraged. If you ever need a wingman, George can help you with that!”

“What about you?”

He opened his mouth but no words came out yet. You were sure that he was probably going to tease you again, but you just didn’t have the energy to do this with him today. So before he could say anything, you spoke first, “Never mind, George is probably more reliable anyways.” And you left.

“Where are you going?” You heard him yelling from behind.

“My bed! It’s tired being a wing-woman.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Then life went back to normal. You would still hangout with the twins and help them with new prank ideas. You and Fred were still constantly bickering whenever you two have the chance. It was just that more and more girls came to you asking for help to deliver gifts to the twins. Even a Beauxbatons girl came to you once. Guess everyone was just trying to find a perfect date for the upcoming dance.

After deciding to stay as far away as possible from Fred during potion class, you actually became friends with a Gryffindor boy. His name was Finley Laurent. He was tall and you could always see a smirk on his lips. He was also really funny and you two hit it off right away.

You two went from studying in the library together, to going on Hogsmeade dates. Before the Yule ball, he asked you to be his date and you agreed to it happily.

The Yule ball soon arrived. You did your makeup and hair and you put on the dress your mother sent you. You were so excited about this, in fact you even went downstairs early to wait for your date.

But instead of Finley, you ran into the twins first.

“Blimey Y/N, I should’ve asked you to the dance! Didn’t know you could look this...tolerable!” Fred exclaimed teasingly.

You rolled your eyes, “Thank you for your ‘kind compliment’, but I already have a date!”

“Y/N! Are you coming with us?” You heard Angelina’s voice.

“No, Y/N already has a date. She doesn’t want to hangout with us anymore.” Fred said bitterly, didn’t give you the chance to talk, “Let’s go!”

The twins walked away with Angelina and Lee was waiting for them at the entrance. You realized that they were going as a group. You were suddenly regretting your choice now. It would be so fun going with them. 

Wait, what were you thinking? Did you want to hear Fred making fun of your dress or the way you dance for the entire night? You were sure that going with Finley would be just as fun.

You waited at the entrance for at least twenty minutes. It looked like everyone who was attending the ball has already entered the ball room. You finally decided to walk into the ball room alone. Did Finley bail on you? Was he sick? You had to admit that you were slightly annoyed but you were still worried about him.

But as soon as you saw the truth, you’d rather know that he was sick.

He was dancing with another girl. They were dancing and laughing together and the picture looked so great. So great that it suddenly seemed like you were the one who’s barging in now.

You could feel all of the blood in your body boiling as you walked over to him. “Care to explain?” You asked as politely as you could.

“Y/N...” He was surprised to see you suddenly appearing in front of him, but the words he was about to say sounded pretty well-prepared, “I’m sorry, Y/N. This is my girlfriend. We were in a fight before, but we got back together right before the Yule ball. I didn’t know things would turn out this way...”

“So am I just a backup plan?” Your brain still wasn’t fully able to process the situation right now that you felt almost like a bystander. You didn’t know what to think and you didn’t know what to do.

It was clear that he didn’t know how to face this situation either. Even the girl next to him was feeling ashamed of him. She just lowered her head and didn’t look at any of you.

“Oh baby you are here!” Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice. You turned your head stiffly to look at the source of the voice. Tall, redheaded, freckles, deep brown eyes. Your brain slowly began to piece together the name of this person, Fred Weasley.

He held your hand and he looked like he was sorry, in his own dramatic way. “Baby, I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault! I should’ve never argued with you! Will you please forgive me?”

You squinted your eyes and stared at Fred all confused. 

He squeezed your hand lightly, hinting you to just follow his lead.

“What’s going on here?” Finley finally managed to say something.

Fred suddenly let go of your hand and his left hand snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, “It’s my fault to even let you have the chance to invite my girlfriend to the dance, but mate, haven’t you realized yet?”

“Realized what?”

“No offense, but can’t you see that you’re just a less-handsome substitute for me?”

Now it was Finley’s turn to be so angry that he couldn’t speak anymore, but Fred was right about one thing. You finally realized why Finley felt familiar to you. 

Maybe he was indeed a less-handsome version of Fred. They were both tall. They both have freckles. Merlin, even both of their names start with the letter “F”. But Finley’s smile was nothing compared to Fred’s. Fred’s smile was always so confident and cheerful. Even though you probably would never tell him, but his smile would always light up your day and make you feel just a little bit more hopeful on a bad day. 

“Let’s go!” Fred grabbed your hand and you two ran away before Finley exploded.

You two eventually went to the Gryffindor common room because Fred had a bucket of ice cream hidden in his dorm. The sweetness of ice cream healed your wounded pride and calmed your temper.

“Thanks, for having my back today.”

“Merlin, Y/N! Didn’t know you knew the word ‘thanks’.”

You slapped him on his arm and he acted like he was suffering a mortal wound.

“It was nothing. Anything for my best mate!”

“Best mate my arse!”

You couldn’t sleep that night. What was keeping you awake wasn’t the wrong you’ve suffered tonight, but the sound of Fred calling you his girlfriend.

You knew he was just saying that to get on Finley’s nerves and you felt ridiculous that this scene was playing on repeat in your mind. You just couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the warm fuzzy feeling rising up in your heart, spreading through your whole body.

It was terrible, but you found yourself becoming the girls that you would usually roll your eyes at. You were falling for Fred Weasley. Or you’ve already fell for him a long time ago, but you’ve only realized it today.

But what’s even worse was that you knew you would never have a chance with him. Merlin! Just think about how he treated you. He was always so mean to you and he was treating you like you were just one of his friends, not a potential girlfriend. You just felt hopeless.

So you’ve decided. You have to kill your feelings for him before it grows.

Or at least, before he found out.

1996

Under Umbridge’s control, everyone’s life was just miserable. Especially the twins who were natural trouble makers. You have tried to persuade them to lay low during a time like this, but they thought a time like this was exactly when people needed their products and laughters in their lives.

You joined Dumbledore’s Army with Fred and George. In Dumbledore’s Army, you met Ernest Macmillan, a Hufflepuff boy. He was a nice guy and you two became friends immediately. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a soft personality, nothing like Fred Weasley. Great, you thought that was a good sign.

Fred was still the same. He would still tease you when he saw you hanging out with Ernie.

“Y/N, what are you trying to do to that poor boy!” or “Ernie, you gotta be careful. This woman’s cauldron would always explode mysteriously. Maybe one day you will explode too!”

You would always roll your eyes at him when you heard him saying something like that. You were both graduating this year. How could he still be this immature?

Unfortunately, Umbridge still found out about Dumbledore’s Army and everyone in the army suffered from that torturing quill.

After finally leaving her office, you sat on the bench in the hallway. You stared at your bloodied hand that read “I must not disobey”, tears started to well up in your eyes.

Ernie was sitting next to you, “Are you alright?”

You saw the same scar on his hand and you just couldn’t hold your tears anymore. You started crying. When will days like this finally end?

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held up your wounded hand. He tried to alleviate your pain by gently blowing air on it. “The pain will stop in a minute. I promise you.”

You closed your eyes and rested your head on Ernie’s shoulder without realizing that not far from here, Fred was staring at your direction.

So you didn’t need him right now. That’s perfectly fine, he thought. He just turned around and left, with his right hand covering up his wounded left hand. But what if he needed you?

A few days later before curfew, Fred came to you and brought you to a deserted hallway. You were still wondering what he was trying to do, but he waved his wand and a few fireflies appeared and started flying around you.

The light in the hallway was dim, but the fireflies were lighting up your face. It felt like the stars have suddenly came down from the starry night sky to dance around you. It was cliche to say, but you felt like you were in a fairy tale.

“When did you learn to do this? It’s brilliant!” It was rare that you wanted to compliment him without making fun of him first.

“Y/N, I fancy you.”

Your heart probably skipped a beat, maybe more than one beat. Was this what you were always dreaming of?

But your smile soon froze on your face. He’s Fred Weasley for Merlin’s sake! The guy who was probably joking about 80% of everything he ever said.

So was this just another prank? You were pretty sure you saw him flirting with another girl yesterday and how can you forget the way he always treated you! You thought the answer was pretty clear.

“Hahaha,” you laughed sarcastically, “Very funny Fred, but I’m not that stupid. I know you too well.”

“What?” He was still trying to pretend like he was confused.

“I bet George is hiding somewhere now, waiting to see my reaction. Where is he?” You walked pass Fred and began to search for George.

But you heard him said, “So am I only a joke to you?”

“What?” Now you were confused.

“Never mind, just forget I said anything tonight.” And he just walked away.

Not long after Fred’s gone, George showed up just as you expected. But he looked so disappointed with his brows furrowed.

The air between you two were making you panic, but you still managed to sound indifferent, “What’s wrong with Fred? So his prank didn’t work. What’s the big deal?”

“Y/N, he wasn’t joking.”

“So you are also part of this prank? Please, I saw him flirting with some other girl yesterday. I’m not that stupid.”

“He only did that because you were around. He just thought that you look cute when you are mad at him. It’s childish I know. I told him that you might misunderstand it, but you know him, he’s just like that. The more he likes you, the more he’s gonna make fun of you.” George sounded so serious, “You should know. You two are just the same.”

“I...” you were speechless, George’s words blew up in your mind like someone has casted reducto there.

“Don’t try to deny it. You are too obvious. You are both too obvious.” George continued, “I don’t know why he’s only telling you this now. Maybe because he panicked after seeing you with Ernie. Maybe because we are going to leave Hogwarts soon.”

“What?? What do you mean by you are leaving Hogwarts???” You couldn’t keep your cool anymore. You were all already graduating this year. What were they thinking?

“Fred was going to tell you tonight. We both thought our future lay outside the world of academic achievement. And now with Umbridge in charge, we just can’t stay here anymore. Not even for a few months.”

You immediately grabbed him by his arm and pulled him to run towards the Gryffindor common room. You still couldn’t quite process what was going on. Your head was a mess and your heart was beating like crazy, but there was only one thing you were clear about.

“Where are you going!”

“I need to find him!”

You two managed to get into the Gryffindor common room before curfew. Fred was standing there, looking surprised that you showed up with George.

You weren’t someone who liked to share too much about your private life, but you just couldn’t see anyone else in the room anymore now. There was only one person in your eyes and one person on your mind. You walked straight to Fred and just blurted out, “I fancy you!”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes. And now he’s playing dumb? You grabbed his collar and  pulled him down, smashing your lips together. Everyone in the common room was cheering now.

You finally let go of him and he grinned, “Are you trying to prank me?”

“Sure, if you say so.”

“Alright,” he smirked, “I dare you to prank me everyday.”

“Challenge accepted.” You smiled, as he pulled you into another breathless kiss.

2000

“FRED WEASLEY!” You knew shouting wasn’t right, the entire Diagon Alley probably heard you now. But your brain went blank when you saw the empty cake box.

You spent the entire afternoon yesterday trying to bake a cake for Molly’s birthday today, but the cake disappeared now. There was only an empty cake box with some cake crumbs left, telling you that the cake wasn’t just a product of your imagination. You knew George would probably ask you about it when he saw a random cake. But Fred’s different, so you could easily pinpoint the suspect now.

You didn’t have the time to bake another cake. You were leaving in five minutes and you’ve already changed into your dress.

“What happened!” Fred walked out of the room, still fixing his tie and looking all innocent.

You waved the empty cake box at him.

“Oh...” he laughed awkwardly, possibly trying to act all cute to make you forgive him.

“FRED WEASLEY, what is you problem!”

“Merlin, we are gonna be so late!” He grabbed your hand and apparated you two into the Burrows before you could say anything else.

“Oh dear, you two are here!” Molly jumped when you two suddenly appeared, but she was also very happy to see you. “Y/N dear, what’s that in your hand?” She pointed at the empty cake box that was still in your hand.

“Oh...I baked you a cake yesterday for your birthday, but Fred ate it all.”

Fred grinned at Molly, “But I can assure you that the cake was delicious! This woman’s cauldron may explode, but her cake was brilliant!”

You couldn’t help but rolled your eyes.

He pulled you closer by your waist and winked at you, “Love, if you keep rolling your eyes this often, maybe one day they might never roll back.”

“If you keep winking this often, maybe one day your eyelids might fall off.”

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[dollslayer]

Shots or Dare

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: A drinking game goes one step too far. Or does it?

W/C: 1,551

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drunken antics, hangovers, swearing

A/N: Just a quick little oneshot for y'all! I'm working on some bigger stuff but wanted to put this out there just for kicks. If you like it check out my other stuff and reblog/comment! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

‘When will yo finally jsut go on s date with me?’

You sent it before you could even really register your actions. This is why you should’ve volunteered to be DD. Drinking on Girl’s Night always lands you in trouble. Trouble in this case, comes in the form of a dare and the persuasions of an equally drunk and far more excited Wanda.

“You finally DID IT! YOU DID IT!” Wanda hollers as she jumps from the booth in celebration.

Your hand shot up to cover her mouth, noticing several tables in the bar were looking towards you. You wobbled a bit and held the table for support with your other hand. You shushed her and sat back down.

“Did what? What did I do?” You asked, seeming to be the only one not in on the joke.

“Check your texts, lover girl” Paling in fear at her words you swipe up on your phone and read. Oh, God.

‘When will yo finally jsut go on s date with me?’ Read: 1:19AM You felt the blood rush from your brain to your cheeks in sheer humiliation.

You tried your best to recall a few minutes ago when Wanda was practically typing out the message for you as Nat looked on in amusement. You were playing Shots or Dare, a very dangerous game you now realized. Wanda dared you that you wouldn’t finally say something to Steve, whom you’ve had a crush on since you joined the team. You were always so much bolder when you were drunk.

Now sobered in an instant having seen that not only had you actually sent the text but that he’d read it. Your superior officer, your teammate, your friend. God, I must seem so sloppy. How do I even solve this? What do I even say? How soon could I realistically transfer out so I never have to see him again?

Your phone sat shakily in your hands as your thumb hovered above it, unsure what to type. Before you could Nat snatched your phone from your hand and put it in her pocket. You were about to protest when she just shook her head at you.

“It’s too late and you’re too drunk. He probably thinks you’re kidding. Just sleep in my room tonight we’ll fix it in the morning” She offered.

Even though Nat herself was 4 or 5 drinks in she always seemed to have her head on straight. You swallowed and nodded before hiding your face in your hands.

“Relax, I’m sure he thinks it’s hot you’re just going for it! My turn! I choose dare!” Wanda changed the subject with a clap of her hands and eagerly awaited her dare. You didn’t know how you were going to get through the rest of the night without freaking out about it so you ordered yourself another drink and got to forgetting.

____

Staying out until almost 3, the group of you stumbled your way back to the tower and into Nat’s room. You promptly passed out in full makeup and without changing your clothes. You’d wake up to a hangover but that was tomorrow you’s problem.

And a problem it was, not six hours later you awoke to loud knocking from down the hall. You groaned and turn into the couch cushions hoping to fall back asleep. The knocking came again and you ignored it, sighing in comfort when you heard whomever it was retreating back up the hall.

Unable to sleep, you got up slowly and tried to gauge the severity of your hangover. Deciding you’d rather deal with this in the comfort of your own room you wrestle to get your shoes off your feet and carry them in one hand while you open the door with the other. You do your best to sneak down the hall to your room, only being a few doors down from Nat.

You make it just in front of your room when you drop your shoes and wince at the sound it makes. You steady yourself on the door to pick them up when you hit your head on the handle. It stings and you cringe at the feeling of the long handle getting stuck in your hair. Surprised, you hiss at the pain and drop both your shoes again as you desperately try to untangle yourself.

You could not be more of a mess if you tried. Maybe if you puked right now but all the willpower you had left was preventing that from happening. After a moment of all but ripping your hair from your head you’re free with one final jerk forwards, which of course, causes you to lose your balance and topple forward.

You put both your hands out and brace for the carpet burn of the collision but it never comes. Instead you’re being held steady by two large hands and all you can think to do is pray that it isn’t who you think it is. No God would be that cruel.

You slowly look up and find yourself eye to eye with Steve. No God except this one, apparently. He looks concerned as he helps you back up slowly to your feet. He picks up your shoes and opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He looks you up and down, taking in your appearance trying to assess how best to approach the situation.

You’re suddenly very aware that you’re still in last night’s clothes and that the mascara on your eyelashes is smudged from where you fell asleep. If the Earth could swallow you whole right now you’d have no objections. You feel sweat from your nervousness mixing with last night’s too. I am a literal human disaster, this could not get worse. Please, please don’t bring up the text.

He clears his throat. “I, um, I saw you texted me last night.” Fuck. “I knew you were out with the girls, just wanted to make sure you made it home okay.”

You hide your face with your hands and huff out a breath of embarrassment.

“Yeah, um, thank… you… Yeah I’m good” You were not good. On top of the trainwreck of an encounter this already was your knees are giving out on you. You need to lay down now. Maybe get some food in you.

Steve rushed forward to pick you up again when you caught yourself against the door and fumbled to unlock it.

“Why don’t you let me do that?” He moved you gently aside to fiddle with the door before opening it and ushering you inside.

He set your shoes down by the door and helped you out of your jacket.

“When’s the last time you ate something? Or maybe you need some water?” He offered.

You shook your head at him and stuck your hands out to feel your way to your bed. This was already so embarrassing, Steve didn’t need to continue to see you like this.

Steve shook his head slightly and tsked at you. He helped you into bed and then looked at you with his hands on his hips, like he was contemplating his next move.

“I’m going to make some breakfast, do you think you could get a shower in that time or do you need to rest? Regardless after that you’re going to eat what I made and drink a whole glass of water, no protests.” He spoke gently but firm as he walked towards the door.

“Steve, please you don’t need to do this, I’m so sorry jus’ lemme get some sleep you don’t have to do anyth-”

“I said no protests. Now if I come back here in 15 minutes and you’re not in that shower I’m gonna be upset, do you understand?” He was using his Captain voice now and you rolled your eyes before giving him a lazy salute.

“Aye aye, cap” He chooses not to respond to your smart ass response, only chuckles as he closes the door behind him.

____

One very woozy shower later you managed to only kind of puke your guts out and put on a clean pair of clothes. You exited your ensuite to the smell of bacon and eggs. Having gotten all the puke out of your system your mouth was now practically watering at the prospect of food.

Steve was sat on your couch with two plates and he stood to greet you.

“I didn’t know what you like but I figure you can’t go wrong with the classics. I figure while we eat we can watch one of these so-called ‘classics’ you’re always on my case about watching?” He grinned at you and waited for a response.

You shuffled over to your couch and plopped down beside him.

“Why’re you doin’ this for me, Steve? You don’t have to do any of this, I’m good” You kept trying to insist, feeling guilty that you were so hungover earlier and messy in front of him on top of your very infamous drunk text.

“Well this is a date isn’t it?” He smiles down at you with a boyish smirk and all you can do is return his expression and think of what movie to pick. Maybe Shots or Dare isn’t all that bad. This time at least.

[tchallasbabymama]

Troubled Waters Chapter Three

Hello, my lovelies, I’m back 🥰 Recovery is going well, so I started working on this chapter a few days ago, and voilà, c’est fini! I hope y’all enjoy the chapter but know I’m still working on some requests so these probably won’t be weekly updates. I’m shooting for every other week with requests in between, but we’ll see how it goes. Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything, and check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. There’s plenty of content for y’all to enjoy! As always, likes are appreciated, but your comments and reblogs really make my day.😘

Word count: 5,759

Sego watched with concern from across the garden as yawns replaced Nia’s usual morning ballads. After the third yawn stretched over her usually cheery face, he set his magazine down on the metal bistro table and interrupted her daze, “You didn’t sleep well last night?”

“No,” Nia pouted as she turned to face her friend. “I kept waking up every couple of hours and then when I finally got to sleep, I kept hearing a voice talking about ‘the thinning’ over and over. I don’t even know what that means.”

“Sounds ominous. Did you ask Celeste?”

“Of course I did,” she snapped and immediately regretted it. “Sorry, I’m tired.”

“Clearly,” he rolled his eyes and she narrowed hers before spraying him with the water hose. “Hey!”

Nia giggled and went back to her plants as she pondered the message from her dream. Sego picked his fashion magazine back up and flipped through the colorful pages. He wasn’t one for clothing around the house, but when he was in public in his human form, he liked to keep up with the trends.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them, and minutes passed before an idea came to Nia as she stroked a large monstera leaf. “You know, mama wasn’t much help, but someone else might be.”

Sego set down his magazine again and his face turned serious.

“Plan B?”

“Plan B,” she nodded.

Sego cracked his knuckles and stood up, “I’ll get the drum.”

Nia finished up outside and washed her hands before piling a plate full of the excess sausage and grits she had cooked with Sego in mind. He wasn’t hungry that morning, so it seemed her leftovers weren’t meant for him in the first place. Nia opened the ritual by placing the plate in the center of the altar and lighting her frankincense resin. She wafted the smoke around their bodies and Sego’s drum, opening them to the spirit world as she hummed the unnamed tune that always came to her during rituals. Once Nia set the small clay pot of burning resin back on the altar, they were ready to begin.

The two friends got into position with Sego placing the drum between his legs and rubbing his hand lightly over the head to set his intentions while Nia stood tall with her head and shoulders back as she waited for him to begin. A few moments later, Nia came alive at the first strike of the drum. She let go and allowed herself to get lost in the sacred sounds, stepping in rhythm. Her feet carried her counterclockwise as her upper body snaked forward and back, being pushed and pulled by unseen forces. When her head began to tingle, she fell to her knees, triggering Sego to pick up the pace as she swayed from side to side with her eyes closed and head tilted back. Nia’s ears began to ring with a high-pitched tone that grew louder and louder until her body grew warm and her eyes flew open. She saw a swirling aura above her, and even though she had hoped to contact Bast, she welcomed unknown spirit. She figured it had something important to say since they usually just communicate through the veil. However, this one felt the need to deliver it’s message in person. Nia’s irises turned white as she parted her lips, allowing the being to enter her body. Goosebumps appeared all over her skin as the high of possession took over her, and the spirit settled into her flesh. The room went quiet as Sego carefully observed his friend. She showed no signs of danger, but he held tight to his drum, ready to banish the strange spirit if necessary.

“Who are you?” he asked, and Nia’s head quickly shot to his direction.

“I am Oma,” she spoke in a gravelly voice that unnerved Sego. Despite the chill that went down his spine, he recognized the name as one of Nia’s distant ancestors, and his apprehension waned. However, his curiosity grew as he wondered how she was able to travel to them so easily.

“What do you want?”

“To warn you.”

“Of what?”

“The realms, they are moving.”

“Moving how?”

“Closer. Space between getting smaller and smaller,” she droned.

“What do you mean?”

“The dead will walk among the living, and the humans among your people.”

“But how is that possible?”

“Bast. Her magic weakens.”

Sego’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“Well, how-”

“You cannot stop them. Worlds collide.”

“Who is ‘them’?”

Nia’s head rolled back, and her body began to convulse as the spirit prepared to leave her host.

“No, not yet!” Sego tried to stop her, “Who is doing this!?”

“Be careful. She is precious.”

“Who?!”

Nia’s mouth flew open, and Oma exited her body before disappearing back into the realm of the dead. Sego rushed to his friend and caught her head before it hit the floor, laying it softly on her altar pillow. He grabbed the blanket Nia’s ugogo had woven for her only grandchild and laid it over her shivering body. Confused by what he just witnessed, Sego returned to his drum and closed the ritual with his skilled hands striking the instrument in rhythm. The sound cleared the air, and the vibrations traveled to Nia’s passed-out form, waking her from her state. He played softer as her chest heaved, and she reoriented herself with the world. Nia sat up slowly when her breathing returned to normal, her chilled fingers clinging to the blanket as she looked to her friend. Sego nodded and laid his palms flat on the drum.

“It was...scared,” Nia spoke softly as she ruminated on the spirit’s emotions. “Who was that?”

Sego pointed to the photo of her great-great-great grandma and her sisters. His finger landed just above the shortest one, all the way on the left. Her smile was the brightest of all her sisters, and her wings the biggest.

“Oma?” Nia asked through her brain fog as she tried to piece together what had just happened. As usual, she could only remember how the spirit felt in her body. This one felt anxious and in a hurry. “She’s never spoken to me before. What did she want?”

She attempted to stand, but Sego picked her up and carried her to her bed.

“I will tell you later. Right now, you need to rest.”

Before she could even protest, Nia’s body betrayed her, and she fell into a deep slumber. She slept the day away and woke up to fragrant smells wafting from the kitchen. Sego knew she would need to refuel after what she had just experienced, so he had prepared a hearty dinner to build her strength back up. Nia dragged herself into the kitchen right as he scooped the stewed meat and vegetables over a large bowl of rice. No words were spoken as she slid into the chair and dug into her food as though she hadn’t eaten in days. Sego took a seat on the other side of the table and waited for her to finish. It didn’t take long at all, and when Nia’s body finally felt full, she leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath.

“So, what did she say?”

Sego’s face contorted into a grimace as he spoke, “She, uh...she said the human realm and the realm of the dead are moving closer to ours.”

Confusion clouded Nia’s face as she tried to wrap her mind around Sego’s words.

“But how? Bast-”

“Is weak. Oma didn’t say how or why, but her magic is failing.”

Nia’s breath caught in her throat, and she looked down at her hands, testing her powers and making them glow a vibrant purple.

“I don’t feel any different, though.”

“Maybe because your magic was gifted to you, she doesn’t have to maintain it like the veils?”

“I didn’t think they required upkeep.”

“I didn’t either, but they’re thinning somehow.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Nia thought about Oma’s message before another question entered her mind.

“Why her?”

“She didn’t say,” Sego shrugged, “but she said to be careful and that ‘she is precious.’”

“Who?”

He shrugged again, and Nia stood from the table with conviction, “We should go see my dad. Maybe he’ll know more about her.”

“It’s worth a shot,” he lisped as his forked tongue flickered out and his body melted to the floor. His spotted skin turned to brown and black scales as his arms absorbed into his torso. Nia left to grab her bag, and she returned as his legs melded together. Sego slithered up her body and draped himself over her shoulders. When he got settled, Nia closed her eyes and felt the atmosphere thicken as she transported them to the magic realm. It was much easier than it was the last time she visited over a week ago. Usually, traveling through the veil felt like swimming through water, but it felt more like walking through a downpour this time.

“Did you feel that?” she asked Sego, and he nodded lazily.

Nia walked out her front door and warded it up tight before turning around and facing her other world. She smiled at the vibrant blue sky and breathed in the fragrant floral air before taking the first step into the magical realm. Her stomach twisted with anxiety as Sego’s words echoed through her head, but she was quickly pulled from her trance when a little voice called out on her right.

“Sawubona, Nia!” Adana waved excitedly, and Nia couldn’t help but grin at her young neighbor as she played with her doll on her front porch.

“Sawubona, Adana. How are you feeling today?” she asked as the girl glided over and hugged her waist. Sego slid down Nia’s shoulder a little, and his tongue tickled Adana’s cheeks, making her giggle.

“Good!” she said proudly as her wings flapped behind her.

“Let’s keep it that way,” Nia chuckled as she booped the little girl on her round nose. “I see you’ve been practicing flying.”

“Mhm. Umama said I’m not allowed to fly higher than this yet,” Adana said as she motioned to the few inches between her feet and the ground.

“That’s probably best. You remember what happened last time.”

Adana nodded, thinking back to when her mother had to carry her to Nia’s late one night with a broken wing.

“Umama says she’s gonna teach me how to go higher when I get bigger, and-”

“Adana, dinner!” Zita called from her kitchen, and the little aziza’s wings fluttered even faster at the thought of whatever her mother had prepared for her. Everyone in the neighborhood knew Zita was a fantastic cook, and despite having just eaten, Nia’s stomach grumbled at the thought of another meal. Especially one prepared by Zita.

“Tell her ‘hi’ for me,” Nia called out as Adana quickly waved goodbye and flew indoors. Sego shook his head fondly at the little girl as the door closed behind her, and Nia was thankful for the brief interaction calming her nerves.

As a known healer to all, Nia was very popular among the residents of Birnin Umlingo, the Magic City. She returned waves and short greetings as she made her way to her father’s place, which wasn’t too far from her own. When Nia and Sego arrived at the baobab tree Amare had fashioned into a cozy home for himself, she found him lounging on a limb with a book in his hand. Amare looked up from the page when he felt someone near, and joy spread across his face at seeing his greatest creation. Both of them started to glow faintly as they laid eyes on each other, and his large orange wings spread out as he flew down from his resting spot. Amare enveloped Nia and Sego in a warm hug and kissed her cheek before rubbing the python’s head.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t come visit my old man?”

“Who are you calling old?” he playfully scolded her as he held the intricately carved door open for her to come inside. She looked around at all the human gadgets that filled his home and smiled warmly at his treasures. Nia had always loved his collection, but the books and records were her favorite. Sometimes, they were all she had during the lonely days of her childhood.

“Oh, nobody,” she played coy as she removed Sego from her shoulders and set him on the ground. “How are you, ubaba?”

“I can’t complain, especially today,” he winked.

“Because your favorite daughter is here?”

“Of course! And I have a date in an hour.”

“A date?!”

“Yes, he’s taking me to a restaurant opening in the town square.”

“Sounds fancy. Who is this mystery man?”

“I’m sure you’ll still be here when he arrives. You can meet him then,” Amare said excitedly before another thought crossed his mind. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you! I popped over to the human realm and got these.”

He held out his arm, and Nia marveled at his brand new kimoyo beads, “Ooooh, those are nice.”

“Aren’t they? Top of the line,” he bragged as he examined the new bracelet that he had almost no use for in the magic realm. “Enough about me, though. Is something up? You never drop by unannounced.”

Nia sighed and plopped down in her favorite high-backed leather chair.

“Something’s wrong, ubaba.”

Amare’s eyebrows furrowed, and his wings sank a little as he sat across from his daughter.

“What is it?”

Nia explained her dream and the ritual to him and watched as his face contorted in confusion and disbelief.

“-and then she was gone.”

Amare leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face.

“Oma, huh?” he asked, and Nia nodded. “She was a powerful medium when she was alive. I guess if she can communicate with the dead from this realm, then she can easily communicate with the living from the realm of the dead.”

Nia nodded and continued, “I was trying to reach Bast when she cut in.”

“Hm...maybe she didn’t ‘cut in.’ If Bast’s magic is failing, she might not be able to hear you wherever she is.”

“Maybe you should ask T’Challa,” Sego quipped from the other side of the room as he changed back into his human form. Nia shot him a look to be quiet, and he smirked.

“The king?”

Nia sighed, “Yeah, I forgot to tell you I saw him again.”

“Sure, ‘forgot’ to tell him,” the shapeshifter mumbled.

“Sego!”

He put his hands up in defense, “Ok, I’m done.”

“So what happened this time? Did he recognize you? I hope you gave him a piece of your mind. King or no king, nobody hurts my baby and-”

“Ubaba.”

“What? I’m just saying. So what happened?”

“A bad man tried to hurt me, but before I could do anything, he showed up. He insisted on cleaning my wounds, so I let him, and…”

“And?”

“And he saw Zita and Adana, so I had to tell him about us.”

“You what?!”

“He had questions! What was I supposed to do?”

Amare sighed. “Ok, well, what did he say?”

“He was shocked, but I think he responded well. He didn’t treat me like a freak or anything.”

“That’s good. He seems like a decent, level-headed man.”

“I don’t think he’ll tell anyone. He was-” Nia was cut off by a ringing in her head as the protective wards around her home warned her of a visitor. She could tell by the low pitch that they were coming from the human realm. “I have to go, ubaba. Someone’s at my door.”

Amare and Nia stood while Sego sank back down into his python form and slithered over. The father and daughter hugged each other tightly and said their goodbyes before Nia and Sego were out the door and on their way home.

--------

Earlier that same day, T’Challa sat on his throne and halfway listened as the council argued over trade agreements between the tribes. His attention waned somewhere between the third and fourth attempt to compromise, and his mind wandered to the conversation he had with Nia almost a month ago. He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind lately. Not just her, but what he learned that night, too. He could barely wrap his mind around magical species existing in the first place, much less within his borders.

He was jolted back into the present by a nudge on his left arm and frowned at his cousin.

“What?” he whispered under his breath, knowing N’Jadaka could hear him. The prince also had the heart-shaped herb pumping through his veins from his coup attempt a year ago, so his senses were just as enhanced as T’Challa’s.

“Quit daydreaming,” he responded, equally as low so as not to give their conversation away to prying ears.

T’Challa fought an eye roll and straightened up in his throne.

“Let’s table this discussion for next week,” he cut the conversation short. “Now, is there anything else on the agenda for today?”

“No, my king, but I have one more thing I’d like to bring up,” said the Merchant tribe elder tentatively.

T’Challa nodded for her to continue.

“There have been some strange happenings among my people,” she began. “Just yesterday, a woman wandered into the market yelling about creatures nobody had ever seen before, then she collapsed and started seizing.”

“You’re concerned about a psychotic or epileptic episode?”

“It’s not so much the episode as what came after, your highness.”

“Ok…”

“She died before the doctor could get to her...and then she disappeared before the coroner could examine her body.”

“What do you mean ‘disappeared’?” T’Challa’s eyebrows furrowed as he leaned in closer.

“The men who transported the body were found knocked out cold...and when they woke up, she was gone.”

“Sounds like there’s a sick motherfucker around here somewhere,” N’Jadaka muttered with his signature scowl on his face. “Bodies don’t just disappear for no reason.”

The king ignored his cousin and focused on the Merchant elder. “You said she mentioned strange creatures?”

“Yes, my king. She looked deranged, and she spoke of creatures with dripping claws and visible skulls...She seemed terrified.”

T’Challa leaned back in his throne, and his mind wandered to Nia again, but this time with purpose. That didn’t sound like any creature he had ever heard of before, but he wondered if she had. His thoughts were interrupted by the Mining tribe elder.

“Also, if I may?”

T’Challa motioned for her to continue.

“There have been multiple sightings of abnormally large hyenas around our province.”

“There were some sniffing around the entrance to the lab this morning, but the Dora scared them off,” Princess Shuri added. “They didn’t look like any hyena I’ve ever seen. They were huge!”

M’Baku’s breathing faltered for a moment; he had heard of creatures like that before. When he met Nia a year prior, he began to worry about the existence of other, more dangerous magical species, and now his fears seemed to be coming true. He couldn’t just come out and say it, though, especially since several of the council members already considered the Jabari to be a backward people. He didn’t need “superstitious” added to the list of reasons not to like them. However, he felt that T’Challa might be a little more open to what he had to say. M’Baku decided a private audience with the king would probably be best.

“Hm...has anyone else noticed anything strange or unusual?” T’Challa asked the room, and two more hands went up. He nodded to the Border tribe elder, and the older man cleared his throat before speaking.

“We took a man into custody yesterday for killing his wife. He claimed she was alive when he left for work, but when he came home, all that was left was her bones. Of course, he’s claiming innocence, but the neighbors say they didn’t see her at all that day, which was unusual. But, um, we’re not sure how he was able to remove the flesh so easily. There looked to be bite marks.”

T’Challa looked to his little sister, who had a horrified look on her face, and grabbed her hand in his. He turned to his other side and saw N’Jadaka’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“What the fuck kind of sick shit y’all got going on over here?” he mumbled so only the king could hear.

“I’m not sure,” he whispered back. The king turned back to the council and gestured at the River tribe elder. “And you?”

“Sightings of strange fish in the river, your highness. Human-sized, much larger than what we are used to.”

T’Challa’s eyes shifted to his right and he noticed the Jabari chief’s nervousness, despite his best efforts to mask his feelings.

“Anything else?” T’Challa asked the council, and they all shook their heads. “N’Jadaka and I will investigate these claims further and have a report for next week. Meeting adjourned.”

The council members saluted him and took their leave—all except one.

“My king, may I have a word privately?”

T’Challa looked at M’Baku knowingly and motioned for the chief to follow him. The two of them, along with the prince and princess, retired to T’Challa’s office to continue their conversation.

“What can I do for you, my friend?” the king asked as everyone filed into the room. Shuri sat by the window and looked out at the country nervously, obviously spooked by what she just heard. N’Jadaka plopped down next to her and tried to seem unbothered, but he couldn’t stop fidgeting with his lucky knife, repeatedly flicking it open and closed in his left hand. M’Baku sat across from T’Challa at his desk, and his leg began to bounce involuntarily as he waited for the king to sit down.

M’Baku cleared his throat anxiously before he began, “We Jabari have many...beliefs that the rest of Wakanda seems to have let fall by the wayside. I only bring this up because of what I’ve seen with my own two eyes, but I believe the elders’ reports. Call me superstitious, but there are forces out there that you would not believe. Even I haven’t seen everything, but there is someone who might know what to do-”

“You’re saying you believe the crazy lady?” N’Jadaka scoffed.

“I do not believe she is ‘crazy’. I believe she saw something none of us could ever imagine.”

“Ok, and her body?” The prince challenged him as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I do not know...but I know who might.”

“Who?” Shuri chimed in as she tore her eyes from the scenery.

“She lives with the Border tribe. Her name is Nia-”

“Olu?” T’Challa’s eyes lit up in recognition, and M’Baku couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You know her?!”

“She was the woman who was almost abducted a month ago. How do you know her?” the king asked curiously.

M’Baku wasn’t sure how much he could say without outing her as a non-human.

“She wandered into our territory once when we were still separate from the rest of you. She was very...odd,” M’Baku looked to the king, who seemed to understand his meaning. He wondered just how much he knew of her identity. “She might be able to help.”

“Odd how?” the prince interjected.

“It’s hard to explain,” the king brushed him off to avoid further prying, making M’Baku nod along. The chief still couldn’t tell how much T’Challa knew, but he kept his mouth shut nonetheless. “I will go talk to her.”

Shuri and N’Jadaka shared a look. They both felt like they were purposely being left in the dark, and neither appreciated it.

--------

Nia snuck back into her home in the magic realm and quickly threw on a headwrap before taking a deep breath and opening her door to the human realm. Her stomach twisted up again as she laid her eyes on the king and his guards standing on her doorstep.

“T’Challa, hey,” she greeted him nervously as she leaned against the doorframe with Sego still draped over her shoulders. Nia noticed the two fierce-looking women on either side of him look at her questioningly for her informality, but they said nothing.

“Hello, Nia,” he smiled before noticing Sego. “How are you today?”

“I’m alright. I, uh, actually just got back in from visiting my ubaba.”

“With that?” T’Challa motioned to Sego, and the python stuck out his tongue.

“Sego? Yeah, he likes to get out sometimes,” she said as she stroked her companion’s head. Nia backed up a little and opened the door wider for him, “Anyways, come on in.”

The king ordered the two guards to stay on the front porch, and they stood at attention, looking out at the village. Several of Nia’s neighbors had noticed their arrival and were trying their best to seem inconspicuous as they spied on her to see what was going on. It wasn’t often that the king came around, so the rumor mill started turning almost immediately.

Once T’Challa stepped into the familiar home, keeping a wide berth from Sego, Nia closed and locked the door behind him. They made their way over to the kitchen, and the king sat down in the same hand-carved chair he sat in the last time he was there.

“Can I get you anything?” Nia offered politely as she made her way over to the stovetop and started warming up a kettle she had filled up the night before. “I made a tea blend that helps calm the mind. I’m about to have some myself if you want in.”

“Sure, I’ll take a cup,” he responded with a smile. He watched her scoop the prepared herbs out of a jar and into two reusable cotton tea bags and place one each at the bottom of a mug. She worked in silence as she tried to calm the anxious feeling that had crept back into her bones after leaving Amare’s. Sego could feel her shaking and squeezed her just a little bit to get her to calm down. She relaxed at his hug and poured the hot water into the mugs before carrying them back over to the table. Nia sat down across from T’Challa and blew on her hot tea before taking a small sip. He did the same and smiled at the flavor. “This is delicious, Nia.”

“Thanks,” she gave a small smile back as her stomach fluttered at his compliment. “So...what brings you here?”

The king sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching intently as Sego slithered down from his perch and curled up in the corner. “There have been some strange activities around the kingdom, and I was wondering if you might know anything about it.”

“Strange how?” Nia’s head cocked to the side, and she placed her elbows on the table as she leaned in closer.

“First, there was a woman who was found dead in her home. Her neighbors saw her the day before, and her husband claims she was alive when he left for work, but all that was left was her bones,” he spoke carefully and observed as fearful recognition clouded her face. Nia couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but she easily put two and two together. The thinning had begun.

“W-what else?” she asked as she leaned in even closer.

“Another woman’s dead body disappeared. She wandered into the market screaming about horrifying creatures, then she seized and collapsed...but her body never made it to the coroner,” he paused to make sure she was still with him. She motioned for him to continue, and he spoke again, “There have also been reports of abnormally large hyenas and fish, but that is less concerning than the other two.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Nia mumbled as she got up and hurried to the bookshelf. She pulled out a large leather-bound book and opened it to a page near the middle before flipping a few pages forward. When she landed on what she was looking for, she set the heavy book down in front of the king. His eyes traveled to the page and widened in fright at the image of a childlike being with a mouth as wide as its face and sharp teeth on display.

“W-what is this?”

“Eloko,” Nia answered as she sat back down. “Long ago, our queen banished them to their own part of the forest. They’re harmless if you ignore them, but if you take pity on them and let them into your home...they’ll eat your flesh in minutes.”

T’Challa scanned the page, taking in every horrifying detail he could as he attempted to calm his heart rate. Not many things frightened the unshakable king, but he was completely out of his element. His mouth went dry as he attempted to speak, “And the other woman?”

“I’m not sure, but…”

He tore his eyes from the book and looked up at her. “But what?”

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions because it’s not a common occurrence, but when bodies disappear like that, there’s usually dark magic involved.”

“Dark magic?”

“Yeah...like I said, it’s not common, but over the years, there have been a few aziza who use their gifts in ways the rest of us do not approve of.”

“Like…?”

“Like creating zombi.”

“Those are real?”

“Very,” Nia shuddered and downed her tea. T’Challa’s eyes fell back to her book, and he began flipping through the well-worn pages. It felt old like it had been passed down for generations, and he surmised it probably belonged to her family for decades, centuries even. He flipped towards the front of the book, landing on the page about aziza. He couldn’t help but smile at the much more welcoming illustration. T’Challa got lost in the description as Nia stood and went to wash out her mug, needing something to do with her hands to calm her mind. He finished reading and looked up to ask her a question, but it slipped his mind when he noticed strange markings on her back in the shape of wings. He started to ask her about the scars when he realized he had seen them once before.

“It was you…”

“What was?” she asked without turning around, scrubbing her mug unnecessarily hard. Nia heard him stand and walk closer, but kept her focus on her task.

He removed the mug from her hand and rinsed it out. Before she could protest, he spoke softly, “I said they looked like wings.”

Nia stilled as she remembered her tube top left her back exposed.

“Yeah…I remember,” she murmured without looking up at him despite their closeness.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “I just didn’t think it was important.”

T’Challa smiled, “Of course it’s important! I never forgot that day…now I know how you appeared out of nowhere.”

“Heh, yeah,” Nia responded as she pushed past him to grab her tea kettle. She filled it up again, but still wouldn’t make eye contact. T’Challa looked at her, confused by her change in attitude when it clicked for him...

“You know, I wanted to see you again-“

“Then why didn’t you come back?” She snapped and he realized why she didn’t seem to like him that much.

“I did. My baba took me on a trip with him that night. We were gone for two weeks, but I came back looking for you.”

Nia paused again before setting the kettle back on the stove. She turned to face him, and he could see the confusion all over her face.

“You did?” She asked apprehensively, and he nodded in response. “I went back every day for a week before ubaba made me stop. He didn’t like seeing me so sad.”

T’Challa’s face fell and he took a step forward, “Nia, I-“

“No, it’s fine.” Nia moved away from him and his heart sank as he watched her go over to her herb pantry. She rummaged around for a while before she came back with yet another tea blend.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she began to change the subject, “have you spoken to Bast recently?”

T’Challa didn’t want to upset her more by pushing the conversation, so he went along with her train of thought.

“Uh, no. It’s been a while. Why?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, eyes tracking her as she moved to sit back at the table. Nia noticed he had been reading about aziza and smiled internally.

“The veil is thinning. That’s how the eloko got through…and who knows what else.”

“The veil?”

“Yeah, it’s like the border between realms.”

“How is that possible?”

Nia shrugged, “Only Bast knows.”

“And she’s not answering you,” he mused as he sat next to her. She wanted to move away, but forced herself to stay still.

“Nope. I tried this morning, but one of my ancestors came through and told us about the veil.”

“Us?”

“Me and Sego.”

“The snake?”

“Python,” Nia chuckled and shot Sego a look to warn him to behave.

“My apologies. So what did they say?”

“The realms of the living and dead, and the human and magical realms are colliding…they might overlap soon. That and ‘she is precious.’”

“Who is?”

Nia shrugged, “Bast, I guess.”

“But you think she’s disappeared…” T’Challa thought aloud.

“Yebo. I don’t know what can make a god disappear, though. Another god maybe?”

T’Challa’s mind wandered to his Avengers colleague, Thor, but he had no way to contact the god while he was off-planet.

“Perhaps.”

“I could try contacting some.”

T’Challa nodded as the wheels turned in his mind. “There are smaller cults around the country that worship other gods. We might be able to-“

“We?”

“Well, yes, I was hoping you would come with me. I’ll need someone with your expertise. I know nothing about all this, but you do…I need your help.”

“I don’t know, I-“

“Please, Nia,” he begged as he grabbed her hand in his. The silence was thick as they looked at each other, but neither was able to look away. “I need you.”

Nia stopped breathing for a moment as he trapped her in his puppy dog eyes. She wanted to say no, she really did…but she just couldn’t.

“Ok, I’ll do it.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @dersha89, @impremenior, @ljstraightnochaser, @love—life—passion, @yourstrulybrii

[peterprkrsbtch]

sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe​

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something.  “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.”  You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter? 

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

[xavadak3davrax]

Shadows and Secrets

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader 

Summary: Fred has been thru a lot in his life and y/n wants to know more. 

Warning: Daddy kink. mentions of blood. Mentions of food. If I frget any, please warn me!! Agnst, smutt and fluff 

a/n: So hi! Hello. First of all thank you so much for the incredible support on the first part, i?m in shock and very happy that a lot more people also love vampire and supernatural stuff like me!!! sometimes I feel weird for liking it... Sorry for taking so long, I hope this is up to your expectations! I’m scared because yeah it might not me and my brain is weird and tricks me into thinking bad stuff D: I hope you all have a lovely day. *whispers* don’t be shy, reblog 

Part 1 

Taglist: @mgkprwtty @onlyfreds @manuosorioh @bberree  

Fred had fallen asleep, he was tired, his body in a state that he hasn’t felt in a while. But that didn’t last long. Only after two hours he woke up, still dark outside, y/n was still tangled in him, she was on her side one of her legs on top of Fred’s, and one of her hands resting on his chest. Her breathing very close to him, it was calm and hot and it brought him some comfort. Her presence, he noticed,  made his demons go away. Just from the small time she was here, next to him he didn’t feel hunted by them. He didn’t feel alone.

Because, well, although he loved this life, it could get lonely. You couldn’t let anyone know your secret, you couldn’t get close to someone and love them. And look at him. He has gone and done the opposite of what he was suppose to.

A big sigh left Fred’s lips. And his head turned to the side when he felt movement, scared that he had been too loud, but y/n had just moved a little. The arm that was around her pulled her more into him, his scent evading y/n, even more during her sleep, her dreams becoming filled with his image.

He knew, right now, right here, alone in his thoughts that she deserved all the explanations in the world, she deserved to know the truth, even though she probably already knew, but she needed confirmation. And yet, Fred was rethinking everything. Maybe he should let her go, she would definitely be better of without him, a man who never grows old, who will stay like this forever, who won’t be able to offer her nothing. He could sent her on her way, he was a vampire after all, he could persuade her into thinking they never met, or what he had done the night before had never happened. But Fred found himself denying that option. He wanted her here, close to him, not only today but for a long while and he felt selfish about it.

He felt like doing that to her would take way all of her life, her beautiful mortal life. One that could be fill with so many things, and just sharing this with her could take that way.

His free hand came to his face and he sighed again. Then slowly he moved from her side, as quietly has possible, which for him wasn’t that hard. He went to his office turning on the light and closing the door. Maybe there his thoughts wouldn’t be too loud that he felt scared to wake her up, maybe there he could stop thinking about that.

--

She woke up alone, covered in the most soft blanket she thinks she ever felt. The space that the night before had been filled by Fred, was now empty. Fred she thought. And that’s when everything came crashing down on her. What they had, what he had done.

Her hand almost involuntary went to her neck, she pressed in the place she thought he had bitten, it didn’t hurt, she didn’t even feel anything. She got up, looking around his living room for the first time, finally, and she found a big mirror near the also big window that had a view to the town.

When she got closer she leaned her head to the side a little, but still looking at herself in the mirror, and whe  she looked at the place her hand rested, she saw only two small marks. Nothing else, it wasn’t red, it wasn’t hurting. It was just two small marks that she was sure no one, even if looking at her for a long period of time, would not be able to notice.

But that was the sign that all of what she remembered was… real. She wasn’t dreaming good, it happened. Fred was… well, for all she knew he was a vampire? Her brain felt a little weird now thinking about it. She had thought of it before she had confirmation and it hadn’t felt that way. But now it was different.

That’s also when her brain clicked again that he wasn’t there. She panicked a little, where was he? Had he left her all alone in his house? She looked around for her clothes, and then put them on, feeling like she couldn’t bring herself to look for him completely naked or even in little clothes. And then she ventured herself again thru his house. She remembered little, the only thing she had seen the day before was the bathroom, where she was looking for something to help him, and then… then she ended up naked in his sofa.

She smiled, it felt all to surreal, being so close to him, knowing him like that. She knew him for a short amount of time, and somehow she felt okay, and good with herself after what they did. Because Fred cared for her, and she thinks she cared for him. She felt something in her heart tug, yesterday night, she remember it was there the whole time, even after the bite. And when she snuggled to his chest it only got stronger, like she needed to be even closer to him, even though she couldn’t. but she needed that. She remembers needing him, and now she feels again. This need for him.

And that’s how she somehow ended up in front of the modern wooden door, that was closed. Of all the ones she had passed thru, this was the one she felt she needed to nock first. So she did just that, and there was silent for a long moment.

“come in.” Fred’s voice finally came, her hand met the doorknob and opened it slowly, feeling a little scared and uneasy because this would be the first time she saw him after what happened the night before.

“Hey.” She said very lowly, her head peeking first and then she opened the door a little more and finally entered what she quickly realized was his office. “I- I’m sorry, was just, I woke up alone, just wanted to see if everything is okay.” And maybe talk about what happened she thought to herself. He nodded his head lazily, he was sitting behind his desk, his clothes were not the ones he had one yesterday, but new, cozier ones. He also had his hair wet which meant he had taken a shower.

“Yes. Please, y/n, sit.” He gestured towards the comfortable sofa next to a big shelf, full of old books? Very, very old books. She couldn’t read many of the titles, but by some of what she could read she could confirm that. She did what he told, and then saw him get up and come to sit on the sofa, but on the opposite end. Her heart shattered a little.

She didn’t ask him to come closer, feeling like although she wanted, she wasn’t gonna ask for something he was comfortable with. If he was where he was, it meant something.

“About yesterday,” Fred started, he sited on his side, his legs crossed, one on top of the other, and one of his arms resting in the back of the sofa and the other on top of his legs. “I own you an explanation.”

She wanted to say ‘yeah you do’, but decided instead to stay quiet, giving him the space to speak freely.

“I don’t think I can hide to you what I am. And yesterday I let myself go in a way I shouldn’t have, I let you see the side of me that no one can. But, it felt different with you y/n.” he started, feeling like instead of just saying directly what he was, that she needed to be eased into the conversation they were about to have. Also Fred was stalling it has much has he could. “I don’t know what it was, but the reaction I had was something from a very old tail, a book has old had life.” He looked at her, looking for any sign that this conversation couldn’t continue, but he found her with a  curious look on her face, he could feel the unsureness radiating from her, but at the same time, like she wanted to know more. “People from even before I was born had spoken about this. They were like me, immortal.” He saw and heard her suck in a deep breath.

That was the moment it finally felt real, it dawn on her that he was in fact what she had thought about. She wasn’t scared.

“My creator had mentioned to me, when he created me. But in all my years on this earth I never once believe in it.” She leaned a little more onto to the sofa, still looking at him, taking in every detail in him. She also had a lot of questions, that she hoped he would  “yesterday…” She finally felt like she had to interrupt him, scared of what he might say.

“If you think it was only because of yesterday, it wasn’t.” She saw his brow ark a little, a puzzled look on his face. “The day before that I had seen you smile, and you smiled a little too much, and it showed, you know…” She gestured with her hands to her mouth that was opened, she laughed a little.

“So I wasn’t careful at all, was I?” She denied with her head.  

“I’m afraid not.”

“So when you went out with me yesterday you knew?”

“I wouldn’t say I knew, I had some thoughts about it.” She gave him a reassuring smile.

he nodded, a little smile appearing on his face, both his hands moving a little more, like he was nervous.

“Yesterday was what they speak of it. How it starts. It’s like…” he was trying to find the words to describe it “ it starts as a weird feeling in your chest, and then slowly starts to spread all over your body. I mistook it as sexual desire. It was but it wasn’t just that. Because before I had this pressure here, “he put one of his hands at his chest “and everything you did interested me, which in all honesty never really happens if I’m going to feed of someone. I very much try to treat the people I feed of, well, but I never show interest in having something more.”

y/n nodded, showing every emotion that she was carefully listening to what he was saying.

“That was what happened. Yesterday was that, my body had never done that, and… and I know you for so little, but my body, my mind is telling me that I know you for a long time.”

“So, like… like soulmates?” she questioned, curiosity filled her tone.

“I mean, yeah, maybe, you could say that.” Fred let out a long, relieved sight. “I never labelled it, not did my creator.”

“You call him, your creator, is it- is it because you’re not close?” she was hesitant to ask anything, but for the period of time they had been talking that’s all he’d called him.

“Not much, no.” Fred started, and changed positions, his legs were not crossed anymore, they were now both on the groups his elbows resting on his thighs and his head resting then on his hands. “You see, I do like this life, I denied it for a while after changing, we all do, but eventually I learned to like it, to see the good things it could give I had never thought were possible. But there was a time I drifted from this path, it was a short time after I had seen all my family die, and everything felt different. It felt different to live in a world, immortal, where they were present and in one where they were not.” Fred explained, his breathing a little rapid, it always got like this when he got anxious like feelings when telling something that made his nervous and that brought dark memories. He had lived for so long, dark memories were something that always clogged his mind. “And we separated. I had lived with him since I had become what I am, but after that I went on my own. I hear from others like me, from him, from time to time, but that it.” He turned his head on his hand to look at her, and everything in his body just felt different. She gave him this feelings that Fred was still trying to figure out. “You can ask any questions you’d like. I explained yesterday but I can sense you want to know more.”

“I don’t wanna be, or look disrespectful.” She said quickly, afraid now that the question she had asked had made him uncomfortable in any way.

“You will not. Please, ask way.” Sometimes, y/n now noticed, he spoke in a different way than what was considered ‘normal’ now. He had a more eloquent tone and use of words and not such a laid back one. He would sometimes phrase himself in ways y/n had never heard, or only heard in important situations.

“I, I remember the sexual desire and all the feelings, that’s what I think of more if you ask me about yesterday. But, when you bit me, did you… did you feel an electric shock? It was weird and fast and it’s probably something that happens every time you bit-“ she was interrupted by him.

“ I never felt it with anyone else.” He felt the need to do so, because she was a babbling mess, and he needed to let breath. Maybe giving her time to ask questions was a bad idea given he noticed her blood run faster and she was anxious, her breathing quick. “But I noticed it too. You were just so tired and I had just fed of you, that I felt talking about it in that moment was inadequate.”

“So it’s something related to what you just talked about then?” he confirmed. “Oh.” She titled her head to the side, and a smile appeared on her face, she felt something good inside her. She felt special. “I need to know you won’t push me way, Fred.”

He stopped anything he might have been thinking about, which right now, was her. She filled his head head, not only the small talks they had in the bakery, but yesterday too. “y/n no.” he said firm. “We can’t do this.” The smiled disappeared almost instantly. “we are not the same. What happened can’t continue.”

“And you can just do that? And are you just able to do that? Deny what you know perfectly is something out of the ordinary. Something you had never experienced, you are just gonna deny it and push me way Fred? Just because…” she was getting riled up. She probably wouldn’t have, and never had, with anyone she had slept it only one time because well, nothing like this had ever occurred. “No.” She stood up and Fred’s eyes followed her movement.

“This is not up for discussion.” He tried to keep his tone like it was before.

“And how are you just gonna do that? Now that I know what you are.” She said, spite in her voice, only because she was being rejected by someone who she all of sudden had all this feeling for, and here he was denying her.

“I can just persuade you to forget me, it’s not that hard.” He said nolenctly. “And would you tell my secret to anyone?” he asked, venom filled his voice, he didn’t want to think of her that way, but it was a thought that after what she said had just occurred in his mind.

“I fucking wouldn’t.” She said, voice hard. Hands at her hips, rage feeling her whole body. Things had escalated pretty quickly. Something sh thought was gonna go smoothly, now was a complete mess. All because he was being a hard head and didn’t want her to get close. “You cannot do that. Push me way. You cannot deny what happened. Fred, I’m… who I am…” she said slowly this time. “I too felt everything in my chest. During, what I thought was desire, and now, when I woke up alone, it felt empty, not only physically, but emotionally to.”

“And that is exactly why we can’t be together y/n. I took a small part you yesterday I will not take the rest by breaking your heart. We are not compatible.”

“You are denying what you felt.” She almost but screamed. Fred’s voice and whatever he was going to say. He was taken aback by her tone of voice. The silent that followed was agonizing, y/n stopped and her breathing had almost done the same, it was quiet now, but still fast, she was just trying to make as little noise as possible and Fred wasn’t looking at her now, he didn’t even move, he even stopped his fake breathing. He was just there as stone. “I- I’m sorry-“

Fred didn’t know what to say, or what to do. He had options. He could get up right now, grasp her in his hold and persuade her, let her forget him, let her go on with her life like all of this hadn’t happened. Fred didn’t really know what the consequences of that would be. He knew vampires persuade humans all the time, but never had heard of a vampire persuade a human when they were bounded. That was also rare, a vampire and a human bond, it was unheard of. So the unknown scared him a little. Or, he could try and solve things with her, make her see reason, realize that they couldn’t be together, but still show her he trusted her and let her go with his secret, that she would hold in her grasp forever, until her last breath.

Or Fred could try and solve things, and they could try this out. How it would work out? Unknown, something that had never been studied by him and he would have to go step by step. The option he needed to do for his kind? The first. The one he wanted to do? The last…

He didn’t know how to approach her. How to reach out to her after this. How to make her realize that this was forbidden. If he made her realize without explicitly saying it maybe it would be easier, she would realize for herself after a little help from him and she would go on her way.

But she wouldn’t. If it was something he could feel at this moment was her stubbornness.

The silent became to much for her, her emotions still high on her body. “You have to speak to me. You cannot just stand there like that.”

“I was thinking.” He spoke, his tone almost bored. She didn’t have to ask about what because he continued. “About what to do.”

“It’s not your decision to make alone.” She said, her hand sleaving her waist to just hang by her sides.

“It’s not. But I’m the one who has a lot more to loose. What do you have? Your boring human life?”

The words felt like knifes cutting all over her body, her eyes now starting to get wet from tears, her words caught in her throat. If she spoke he would quickly realize she wanted to cry. y/n felt trapped, she wanted to refuse those words, yell at him. But her body wanted to leave after this. He hadn’t realize the harsh tone of his words.

“You don’t understand. I’m gonna stay like this forever. You are gonna grow old. Are you ready to live that?”

She had no answer, and her body had given up on her. She had no more strength to continue this conversation.

“I don’t know Fred, I don’t know.” He noticed by her voice then that she wasn’t okay, he looked up at her. She was moving back towards the door to his office. “If that’s what you wish, then it’s granted, but don’t take way what I felt yesterday.” She pleaded, she wasn’t scared, she was just broken. Before he could continue or say anything she left, she only had time to grab her things, and left. Fred could’ve have stopped her at any time, but he didn’t. He let her go, because although he has just broken her heart, he trusted her and believed his secret was safe.

What she didn’t know when she left, was that Fred was also broken. What he thought to be his soul was in pieces, his frozen heart, felt a lot heavier in his body.

--

What was suppose to be a working day for y/n, had ended up, that day, being a ‘I’m so sick, I can’t make it’ day, and Philip had covered for her, in her absence. And then the next day was also a working day for her and this time she couldn’t just not go. They had been nice enough to give her that day without taking her next free day, the least she could do was go in.

And that how her week started. Going into to work was painful, physically and emotionally. It was too much, she was always on edge, always with tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. Her bubbly and giggly side was hiding. Every time Philip said something funny a forced laugh came out of her. She hoped it didn’t look like it tho, the last thing she wanted was for him to notice something was up and ask. She was trying her hardest to make it look like she was okay.

Fred was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t made his appearance in the last days she had been here, and in the day she was sick, Philip had commented that he hadn’t shown. He didn’t make much of it at the time, but he was now. And y/n knew it was only a matter of time until he asked or commented with her.

She missed his presence, more than she think she would after his harsh words. But here she was, in the front, alone because Philip had gone to the back to do something, wishing that he would come thru that door at any moment. How she missed knowing his order, and how she missed the small touches. But also his touch all over her body, his words, his mouth, everything. It was agonizingly painful.

She didn’t notice Philips presence next to her, given she was lost in thought.

“Haven’t seen Fred in a while. Did you murder him or something?” he asked, nudging her playfully on her side. She gave a forced smile.

“Must have.” She fake laughed. “he’s probably busy with work.” She tried to end the conversation by saying that.

Philip gave it a thought for a moment, not convinced he continued. “You must have tired him then.” She didn’t know what to say. The memories always on her mind and didn’t help that he was mentioning it. But he didn’t know, it wasn’t his fault.

So she just gave a movement of her head, letting him know she heard and she was thankful for the costumer that approached and let her free of this one.

And then, at the end of the way, she went home, after closing the bakery, alone, all bunched up because there was a cold breeze in the air. She made it home, this time no interruptions, no signs of Fred lurking in the night.

It was when she closed the door to her house that the thoughts of what he was hit her. During the day she tried to let those run to the back of her head, already so much to think about that this would only add to her stress and to her anxiety. But when she was alone, like she was now, everything became so vivid. They only had one night together but it was enough for her to be in a frenzy all the time. What she felt that night… how she wished she could have shared it with Fred. She wished things hadn’t escalated like they had, that they could have walked out of that office, happy, probably not together, but in some way that showed they were both willing to make it work. They would’ve come down stairs, and he probably would’ve cooked for her, because Fred looks like that guy.

The guy who can’t eat simple human food but would cook it for his special someone. And she wishes that she was that special someone. The one he would cook for and do, the most mundane things with. Things he probably hadn’t done in.. years. At least that’s what she thought.

But no, instead she had left, broken and sad, leaving behind what could have been wonderful memories with Fred, only because he was to stubborn to admit he wanted her too.

So she found herself sitting in her bath, now almost cold because of how long she had been in there, wondering what he was up to, where he was. Was he okay? She hoped he would be, she wanted nothing more than for him to be okay, and happy and well even if she wasn’t next to him to experience that. She hadn’s seen him since she left, and Philip was right in taking notice he hadn’t come to the bakery. Did he think she had told his secret? She would never, ever do that. His secret was safe with her. But had he left? Had it gotten to much for him after that and had he left? Or was he just roaming around in his house, alone, in the dark being himself?

She also hoped he would feel some kind of guilt. That maybe that would make him come and look for her.

She needed and more than anything, she wanted to make him realize that he could trust her, make him see they needed each other. What they had experienced couldn’t just be ignored and ran over like Fred wished. y/n had to figure out a way of making him come to her, because she knew if she were to come to him he just would ignore her.

But she also needed to figure out if he was even in town. He may not come to the bakery but at least she would have seen his car around the area no? But not even that, not a sign of him.

Fed up with herself she decided this was enough, it was enough of laying around here feeling sorrow and pitty for herself. Not only did she wanted Fred she wanted to know more of him, and there’s only so much the internet can do for you when people think vampires are a myth and a tale.

--

She first tried to find a way to contact him, by calling him. The most obvious and much used way. But had no answer, he was ignoring her. So decided to take a less modern approach, and something she thinks it would touch his heart, because well, Fred was an old guy, and y/n thinks a way to get closer to him is to do small gestures that may remind him of his time.

So she wrote him a letter.

It was small, it started it a simple apology. She feels that if she starts like that, it will make the approach different and more easy on both of them. She adds that she wants to know if he’s ok, and if he’s around, since she hasn’t seen him in over a week now. And that’s all. And one day before work she goes there and leaves it at his mail box. The first and last time she was here she came in thru is garage so she didn’t know he had a doorman, so when she entered and he looked at her, she felt awkward.

“Anything I can help you with miss?”  

She stutter for a little.

“No, thank you. Just wanted to leave this letter in a mailbox.”

“May I know for who it is?” When she gave him a questioning look he continued. “A lot of our residents don’t look at the mail boxes so if you want it to be seen quickly you can leave it with me.”

“Can’t you just warn him that he as mail?”

“It would be quicker to just give it to the person.” She nodded, still a little worried and taken aback by that, by gave it to him none the less.

“It’s for Fred, he leaves in the penthouse.” She said while he took the letter in his hold and then put it in a little drawer.

“Oh, Mr. Weasley is not home at this moment. He left in business. But as soon as he arrives I will let him know.”

Oh so he wasn’t ignoring her, maybe? Maybe he was just busy and didn’t have time to called her back or even answer. That’s what her brain wanted to think. Her heart said different. She thanked him and went on her way to work.

Had he left soon after what had happened? Or had he left sometime later?

--

y/n was tired, besides the bakers in the back, getting everything ready for the next day, she was the only one here. The front had closed, she was just finishing up the cleaning part, and then she had to wait for them to be ready for her to close everything, since she was on closing duty again.

It was almost midnight and she knew none of them liked to stay past that hour, so she was grateful, she was tired, her eyes closing every second. She wanted to go home, clean herself and get cozy in her bed.

She was finally ready to let her mind get some rest after overthinking every possible option as to why Fred hadn’t said anything about the letter. Not called, not messaged, ot even answered back in the same form she had reached out to him. Nothing. Was he still out of town?

“Are you coming?” A voice took her out of her thoughts. Is was milly, one of the nicest people she had met in the bakery after Philip and her boss. She picked up her things and left. They now decided that leaving from the back door was safer, not only for them but for the bakery in itself to reduce the chances of being robbed.

“Well, goodnight then.” y/n said to them, while they went on their way and she finished closing the door. A harsh breeze was felt behind her. She got scared and turned quickly, to see there was nothing there. It wasn’t cold, there wasn’t any breeze, so that scared her.

she pulled the keys from the door very hard that she almost broke then and fasten her pace. She didn’t want the situation from the last time she had closed, to happen again.

But she felt it again, only this time when she looked behind her, it wasn’t empty and her view from the street had been blocked. By the red haired boy she had been trying to get ahold of for some time now.

“haven’t you learned it’s dangerous to walk these streets alone, specially at night?” He asked, he was not far from her but took some steps to get even closer. She wsn’t expecting him to be here, now. She didn’t expect him to reach out to her like this, that is, if he had even seen her letter. “cat got your tongue? Or should I say vampire got your tongue?” he smirked.

She gasped, incredulously.  Had he forgotten everything that had happened between them?

“What- what are you doing here?”

“Well, I came home to a letter from you, then went to see you at your house, only to remember you work. So I came around at about six only for you not to be home. Then walked around here, to see you would be closing in today. But I saw Philip leave early so I knew you were alone.” He had his hands behind his back and was leaning his body on one leg. He was wearing a suit. Black trousers, white button down, that had almost all the buttons opened, giving everyone a good view of his toned chest and then the black matching jacket. “And now we’re here.”

She didn’t know she was gonna react like this, she expected to me more accepet of anything he could say but she was mad.

“So you just think stalking me and giving me a scare is the best way to approach me? Are you dumb or something?”

“Not dumb, just making sure you get home safe. Just couldn’t take it and see you walk alone. Let me take you home.”

She wanted to say no, but this was the first time she was seeing him after all that happened, and she couldn’t let this opportunity go. So she nodded, and let him accompany her to her house.

This time, unlike the first, they didn’t kept silence. y/n felt a strange feel of cringiness for having sent the letter, and wanted to say something about it but wasn’t able to. On the contrary, Fred had something to say.

“May we talk when we get to your house?” He asked, the need to put his arm around her and pull her close to him, enormous, but he had to stop himself. y/n was tired but still nodded, what she felt in the bakery long gone, now that he had made his presence know and was next to her. “I have a lot to say.”

“I sure hope you do.” She didn’t even look at him. Taking her keys out and opening her door. Thankful for her warmth of her house that brought her comfort. “You can sit.” She said, and went to change into something more comfortable and warm, than her work clothes.  When she got back a few minutes latter, Fred was sitting there, on her couch, his posture rigid, his hands at his thighs in a opened manner but not relaxed, at all. She sat next to him, this time almost no space in between them, like they had in their last conversation. She wanted to reach out, hold his hand in hers, but she didn’t.

He turned to look at her.

“You can start.” She said, leaning back on her couch, her head tilted slightly to keep an eye on him.

“I wanna say sorry for how we ended the conversation last week. And how I made you feel. It wasn’t my intention to put you in such a state. I wanted it to go a different way but clearly lost myself in other things.”

“We both did.” She corrected for him.

“I didn’t answer or responded to anything you sent because I genuinely didn’t see it. I went way, not a business trip had you can imagine.” He was referring to what the doorman had told her, that he was away on business. He didn’t give her time to ask where. “ I went to see my creator. After what happened and we both had our feeling messed up, I needed some answers. From someone who might know it from personal experience. The books told me some things, but after I had actually witnessed it, I needed to know more. So that’s why I left. I tracked him down and he took me in with opened arms even after little to no contact we’ve had in a while.”

“What did he say?” She asked, her legs had come up on the sofa and she had them crossed her arms crossed, not like she was mad, just tense.

“He explained why we had both burst in the way we did. He also explained a little bit more of what it meant.” What she didn’t do, he did. He reached his hand to hers and took it in his hold, she didn’t question it nor did she pulled way from it. “It pretty much means you’re stuck to me now.” In his face appeared a childish smile, like he was innocent. y/n wants to swat him hard on his hand, and that’s exactly what she did.

“You cannot come in here and say those things with that child like smile Fred. This is serious.” She was mad. Furious.

“Your letter told me otherwise.” He tried to hide his smirk. She rolled her eyes.

“I need more Fred.”

“We are bonded, there’s something in you and in me that pulls us towards each other. And then I fed of you without knowing that would only make things worse. What you feel I feel, and what I feel you feel. We’re in a way connected. That and I’m also a vampire. If you haven’t noticed.”

“Fred.” She groaned, her had hitting the back of the sofa in a small rage moment. “Take this seriously please. I know what you are.”

“Well, I feed of people, and you know that. And I fed of you because it’s something natural. I didn’t know what we were feeling at the time. And what it would mean. And I had to look for help, because, I, myself, was helpless.”

“You hurt me a lot Fred. What you said…”

“I know.” He interrupted her. “I was mad, I was lost and confused why I was feeling what I was feeling. We as in a community have things we should follow. Like not letting humans know of our existence. If you feed of someone you either kill that person or have to make them forget what happened. With you, at that moment I couldn’t bring myself to do it… because, we were already bonded.”

“If you hadn’t fed of me, would you have done it?”

“I don’t think so. Because My body before that was already giving me these signs.” She finally squeezed his hand, hard, and then with her thumb caressed his skin.

“Can we be together then?” She asked, her voice low, scared, the anxious feeling inside her, returning.

“You have to know what that means.” He leaned back next to her, his head coming to rest against hers, his smell was already do potent, and it was even more now. It was happening again, she was feeling engulfed by him, his scent, his touch. “You have to know what it entails.”

“Do we need to think about the future? Can’t we just live now, and worry along the way?” y/n asked calmly, knowing that this part was what had made everything worse the last time, the theme and the conversation, or the lack of it, because they were too heated to continue.

He was speechless. His lips coming to meet the top of her head. He kissed it slightly. “If that’s what you want, I can manage.” He admitted, he whispered into her skin, the warmth that radiated from it was calming, and also because she smelled divine all the time.

“I want that. I want to learn more about you, your life. I want this Fred.” She murmured, a tender tone to her voice, her hand squeezing his also in the same way. He ended up laying back on the small couch, and she laid in between his legs, both of his arms around her body, pulling her to him. This was way smaller that the couch on his living room, so she felt even closer to even, everything from him was over powering her. His fingers shaped fondlingly her hands, coming up her arms and to her shoulders. Silent had fell in the room, but there was no more tension, or heavy feelings. She could almost fall asleep, if it wasn’t for the fact that so many questions prickled her mind not letting her rest. She didn’t want to ask them all today, she wanted to take her time, to get to know the Fred from now, and the old Fred.

“Does it ever get boring? Being like this I mean?” She asked, she didn’t turn her head to look at him, she kept her eyes focused on the ceiling and from time to time she would close them.

“For me, it doesn’t.” He admitted, never once stopping his movements. “For some, it might. But there was so many things I could do, and will be able to do. Mortals won’t. They have a small span of life that does not allow them to experience the world the way I have.”

She nodded, showing she was understanding of what he was saying.

“Did you ever hate it?”

“being like this?” he asked for clarification, she moved her head positively. “I don’t think I should say never, for a short period of time I did. It was after my last family member died. And by that I mean my sister. Watching her die and knowing they had all died without knowing what I was, was hard. But I knew mom and dad would tell them, wherever they are.”

“You parents knew?” There was surprise in her voice.

“Moments before each of them died, I went to see them. I told them then. I wanted them to feel piece. It was hard not telling all my other siblings, specially George, my twin. It was hard having to watch from afar things unfold. And so after that I was mad at the world for a while. But then I learned to live with it, with the grief, and enjoying life.”

“I have so many questions.” She admitted, followed by a laugh. He joined her.

“You can ask them whenever you’d like.” his hands came to grasp her head by the side and he again kissed the top of it. “You’re tired, get some rest.” Hearing him say that, made all the tiredness she felt in the bakery come back. She felt him moving slipping from behing her and then she was in his arms, her voice groggy with sleepy.

“Where you taking me?”

“To my bed, love, rest.”

The last thing she felt was the softness of the bed sheets against her very tired body.

--

y/n was talking to Philip, the front of the bakery was empty, they were getting ready to close. Today was neither her turn or Philip’s but they always left everything organized and cleaned. y/n was anxious, but a good kind of anxious, Fred has promised he’d picked her up from work today and she never wanted to leave this fast.

Things aren’t smooth sailing yet, but y/n nor Fred could expect anything less. It had only been hours since their first serious talk after everything, so although they could both say they were comfortable around each other, it was clear some tension still hang around in the air. But at least y/n could have him by her side.

She couldn’t explain it, how everything felt to her.. how having the confirmation of what Fred was did to her. It should scare her, so much. To anyone she should’ve ran, very far way. But she stayed, she asked for an explanation before she fell asleep that day, and Fred gave it to her. Well not exactly on the vampire part, but y/n wasn’t dumb, she could piece things together. What she for sure didn’t expect was the actual conversation that had taken place. Everything about this weird feelings that now lingered on her body all day everyday. But it felt nice, so nice, to wake up next to Fred today. It brought this tingles all over her hands and body, as Fred as ran his hands from her hands, to her arms and then all over her body. She remembers they rested for a long period of time in her thighs. How he squished and squeezed gently, massaging them, how his thumbs would come to the inside of thighs, at the top, close to where she could feel a heart beat begin.

But nothing happen, besides lots of love and cuddles, he hadn’t initiated anything. To y/n left his house this morning with a lingering feeling between her thighs.

y/n is grabbing her things when Fred enters the store. The door wasn’t closed yet because y/n was gonna leave thru there.

“Philip. How are you?” Fred asked nicely, a smile on his face, and then he looked at the girl next to him and he smirked, and winked at her, not so discreetly given Philip was right there next to them.

“I’m good, you?”

“Just peachy.” Fred said brightly and then turned to look at y/n again. “Ready to go beauty?” y/n felt shy all of sudden with the cute pet name Fred had called her, so she nodded and came from behind the counter to put herself next to Fred.

She cleared her throat and directed herself to Philip. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah. Have fun you two.” He said cheecly, and then waved his hand even when they already had their backs turned to him and let out a small quiet laugh that y/n didn’t hear, but Fred surely did.

“I thought we could stay by my house again today. I could cook you dinner.”

“Cook us dinner.” y/n corrected, her arm laced with his and she leaned on him.

“I don’t eat human food cutie. I mean not whole meals like you do. I can endure small things, like the usual stuff I by at the bakery, but a whole meal will make me sick.”

A prolonged ‘oh’ left her mouth as realization hit her. She understood now why he also hadn’t eaten anything in their date, not only because of everything he had explained but also because, well, human food wasn’t his thing anymore.

“So you’d just cook food for me? Fred, no. We can stop by the super market before going to your house, I can buy something.” y/n almost stopped in her tracks.

“No. I will cook you food. I think you will love my lasana baby.” He turned his head a little and pulled her on so she took on her pace again. y/n felt her belly turn in excitement and anticipation. What would be like to eat food made by him, watch him cook it. Cook specifically for her! She hid her smile, but it was there, and so was the feeling of her heart expand a lot in her chest. She thinks Fred had felt it too because he squeezed her arm against his body a little tighter.

When they arrived, while y/n put herself comfortable, taking her shoes of, and her jacket and hanging her bag by the door, Fred had made his way to the kitchen, and before she had even left the main entry way, she had already heard clicking sound from the kitchen letting her know Fred had gone right to it and start the cooking process.

Now with bare feet, she made her way thru his house all the way to the kitchen to find him by the isle cutting some carrot. She leaned on the door frame and crossed her arms, a smile plastered on her face. Her brain conjuring up images that maybe, she could get use to this view. Of him cooking for her.

“What I’m doing must be very interesting no?” Fred asked jokingly, taking for mere second his eyes of the carrot and the knife in his hands to look at her.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, perhaps it is.” She left the position she was in to come closer, and to the other side of the isle and put her elbows in it and looked at him The sudden urge to ask him questions coming to haunt her. But this just looked like a perfect, relaxed moment for it. They were both calm. And she was curious.

“Did you cook a lot for your family?”

The smile that was on Fred’s face was nostalgic, the faint memories of that time coming to his head. Fred had a harder time remembering simple loving moments with his family that he has remembering more traumatic moments, like when he lost all of them. But some of the good memories are still there. Cooking with his mum was one of them.

“I did yes. With my mom. She loved to cook, she was very family driven you know? She did everything for me and my siblings. We all had different favorites, when it comes to food you know? She always made sure to frequently cook all those different things. All she wanted was to make us happy.” If Fred felt sadness the way he felt all those years ago like when he was human, he would probably shed a tear or to reminiscing this memory.

“Tell me more about her.” y/n motivated him to continue when she heard his tone of voice, and the way he spoke about his mother.

“She worked, at the time it was so rare for a woman to work. But along side my father they both worked, she provided financially and then at home.  After I became what I am now,” his tone was hesitant now. “ I watched from afar, I watched her become this amazing grandmother, I watched how much she still missed me and waited everyday for me to come home. I hope what I did before she died was enough for her to rest.” He murmured.

“Fred, what you did for her was so brave of you. Not only did you risk a lot, but, it must have been so hard, to know you would stay like this and you had to watch her go.”

“I also miss dad. A lot. And everyone. I miss them so much, it feels like sometimes it might hurt.”

y/n felt her heart squeeze in pain for him, she reached her hand and her fingers brushed over his wrist. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I am what I am, and I have to live with it.”

“How was it, you know, after you turned?”

“Those were a hard few weeks. There’s a period of time after you turn where blood is all you can think about, and then add to that, the fact that will be the time where you are still so close to human life. You still have the memories fresh in your mind. So you have to juggle all of that.” He had finished cutting up the carrots and moved on to the next task. “You loose all sense of feeling to be honest, you think you feel something but it’s honestly just your need for blood that blinds your every move.”

“That must be very hard.” She spoke lowly.

“Yeah, it is. After I turned I was kept at secret by my creator. Specially because I lived in a place where vampires was something that didn’t exist. There were a lot of humans around and he was scared that I might do something crazy.”

“Where did you went to feed then?”

“He brought me some people, usually someone he found on the street that he knew had no future. I felt… y/n it was the worst I think I’ve ever been close to feel. To know that was now my life. I need that, I need blood to live. And having to go to this extent. It took everything in me.”

She came around to be next to him, he was by the stove and she looked to see what he was doing. She was happy he trusted her to speak so much, feel so comfortable to share this, and she didn’t want to ruin it for him in any way.

“You know it’s not your fault right? Fred you didn’t ask to be like this. Even if you like it now. It wasn’t your fault back then. And I’m sorry you had to go thru that alone.”

He had his creator, but in reality Fred felt very alone. He thinks that’s why he had drifted from his creator years later.

“Thank you, means the world to me that you say that.” He took a moment to bring both his arms around her and pulling her towards him, giving a small peck to her nose. She scrunched it and laughed. Then he turned again to the food. “Then with time, and not so much patience from my creator I learned the basics. Learned a lot more after I went on my own. Met a lot more people, made a few lasting friendships and yeah, it became easier.”

“Then you learned to like being like this.” She stated for him.

“Yeah, I think it was after that, but you know, time becomes such a weird thing when you’re me.”

“have you…” this question felt way more personal and evasive than anything else. Fred felt her hesitance.

“Go ahead, don’t be afraid, you can ask anything you want. I want honesty between us.”

“have you ever turned someone? Are you… someone’s creator?”

He looked at her, the question she felt would bring tension to the moment, did not in fact did that.

“I am, yes.” Her look was of surprise, although she asked the question she didn’t know what to expect, so this was a surprise. “It’s hard when you drink from someone to know when to stop. It takes many years to perfect such thing and some… well, some never do.”

“Do you?”

“Now? Yes. A few decades ago? No. When I was new to this life, it took me a long time to understand when to stop. You can stop, like I did with you and everything is fine. Fine in a way you won’t die nor will you become one of us. Then you can drink just enough for the person to turn, but the quantity of venom you release onto the person has to be sufficient. Sometimes when we drink we release venom, but not enough. Or you can drink from a person until you drain all their blood.” She flinched at the last choice of words, Fred noticed. “Sorry, phrased that one wrong.”

“It «’s okay, just not use to certain things. So…” she said, trying to make him understand that she would like for him to continue.

“Well, like I did with you the other day, I do that a lot, specially now that I know very well what I’m doing. I did a lot of draining in my first few years, the thrust for blood is to much and you have no sense of anything. And the creating part, well, I don’t even realize myself how I did it but I did.”

She nodded, she fell silent after that. She wanted to ask more but felt like this point of the conversation was one that Fred should only continue if he felt like it.

“I was out, without my creator that day. It was one of the times he left me alone for a bit. I met her in a small village we were passing. She smelled… I remember she smelled divine. And there was small talk and then… last thing I know I had made her like me.”

At this point y/n was so into the conversation that she hadn’t realized how far along her dinner he was now. Was almost ready to go to the oven.

“That was also a big factor that creator a separation and problems between me and the person who made me what I am today. He was mad that I had lost control to that point, but I couldn’t explain to him that I didn’t know how I did it. When someone smells that good is hard to control your body. You were hard.”

If that was suppose to scare her, it did the exact opposite.

“She was with us for a long time. I felt the obligation to help her the way I had been helped… well, a little better. I wanted her to feel more accompanied then I did. We got closer. Very close.”

“By close you mean…?” She didn’t finish the sentence, she had a feeling where it would end up.

“Yeah, it was never official, we never had titles, but we messed around. But we wanted different things in life and so we separated.”

“have you seen her since?”

“No. I’ve heard from her. We have friends in common, so I hear from her from time to time, but that’s about it. She was the closest thing I had to a real relationship since becoming immortal. Bothered me for a long time, even when I was on my own that she was all I could think about. But that’s over.”

y/n’s head was resting on his shoulder, it moved beneath her head because he was preparing the last things before putting it in the oven.

“You have now.”

“I do peach, I have you now.”

“I want to make his work between us, and thank you for sharing so much with me Fred. I know it must have been hard to do so.”

“It is hard so speak and dwell on somethings, but sometimes it’s also good to do that. I told you, it’s hard to keep many memories with this life, so sometimes talking and bringing them up helps. I don’t want to forget things from when I was human, even though any have faded and are gone, I try to keep the precious ones fresh, or as close to that as I can.” He had bent down to put the lasana in the oven. “And as to the memories from this life, I also try my best to keep some. And try very, very hard to let go of others.”  

He didn’t say it out loud, but he was speaking of, intimate moments he had with the girl he created. Her name fresh on his mind but he refused to speak it aloud.

“I also want this to work between us. Want you to understand how special what we have actually is.” He was now mumbling against her lips, both his hands resting at her hips, and y/n’s hands where around his neck. They were looking at each other. Those butterflies and tingly feelings were coming back in her belly and would travel down to her core.

“I do.” She then kissed him, and well it was a deep kiss. His hands on her hips pulled her even more to him, he deepened the kiss, his tongue and hers moving in synchrony, her hands pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck. They pulled apart, both understanding that maybe now would not be the best time to continue anything.

She rested her body against the isle, while Fred cleaned up the rest of the things.

“Stay the night, please.” He wasn’t looking at her, but y/n felt that by the way he was speaking that he probably had a childish look on his face.

“Of course.” She said happily. “Anything for mister blood thirst.” She joked.

“Like the pet name, peach.” She laughed a little louder now, a true belly laugh, she was hot all over, not only from the kiss moments ago, but from this moment alone with him.

He put the table, y/n watched everything. She couldn’t help but let the feeling that this all felt very domestic take over her. How he had picked her up from work, had brought her here, was now cooking dinner just for her and putting the table just for her and on top of all of that had asked her to spend the night.

It felt domestic, but inside her it felt right. To do this with him.

When dinner was ready she sat down, and started to eat. Fred was sitting in front of her, and took her a bit to get comfortable in her being the only one eating but eventually got over it. She did help him clean the mess she had made, after. Even when he tried to sound mean and not let her do it, she eventually found a way of persuading him.

They had gone up to his room. This was the second time she was here. The first being yesterday night and she was already asleep when he brought her here. She woke up this morning but didn’t have much time to evaluate her surroundings. She did now. His room was dark colors, his bed was big, way, way bigger than hers. He had lots of windows and the ones that still had the curtains open, the view she noticed was to the museum. She watched him sat at the end of the bed eyeing her.

It was now, in this moment in front of him that she felt a lot more mushy and soft than she had all day. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her, longing for her, or maybe it was the way she looked at him, this soft lovable vampire she had all these feelings towards and the only thing she wanted to do now was being close to him.

“You look tired peach, come, lay down. But first strip of those clothes, try on something mine.” He gestured towards his closet. y/n nodded mindlessly, she had heard his words but they hadn’t stuck because her brain was full of him. She did just that, ad came out a few minutes later in one of his sweat shirts and come sweat pants that were way to big for her. She headed to his bed and plotted herself down, face down in the pillow.

“want you closer.” Her voice came mumbled against the pillow. Fred understood her perfectly. he smiled, and he laid back, still in his clothes. Pe put his arms around her, and pulled her into his chest. She sighed happily, the close proximity was doing wonders to her, but somehow, after a few minutes of that she felt he was still very far from her. Without even noticing she started mumbling.

“What is wrong?” Fred asked gently, one of his hands coming up and down her back.

“Want you closer.” She took her head out of his chest to look at him.

“Peach you’re already so close to me.” He kissed the top of her head. She grumbled. Fred stopped to think for a minute, he realized then what she might want but was to shy to say. “Turn around for me then lovie, and take your pants of.” He was getting up from the bed.

“Where are you going?” She looked at him, before doing what he told her too.

“Take my clothes of, now come on.” He said, instead of watching him, she decided to to what he said and then turned her back to where we was to be next to her. She felt the bed dip again and then his arms around her waist, his fingers brushing the skin there.

“If you want me closer, then you have your wish baby.” His voice was gentle, one of his hands came to the top of her panties, and Fred heard y/n sigh contently, he had figured out what she wanted to say.

“Don’t need to prep me, I’m ready for you.” She murmured shyly.

He let out a breathy laugh. “Oh peach, you just really want this don’t you?”

“Just want you close, we don’t have to do anything. Just please.” She whimpered.

Fred pulled her panties to the side, his fingers brushed over her clit very gently and he felt her shake. The smile on his face was big, she just wanted to close and be loved by him. And he was gonna do just that.

“Keep your panties on the side for me peach.” Me instructed, and watched one of her hands come down to hold them in place. All while he took his cock out of his boxers and brought closer to her pussy. She let out the smallest little moan.

The head of his cock brushed from her clit to her entrance, spreading her wetness all over and then his hand stroked his own cock so he could use her wetness for his benefit. Then his cock came to meet her wet entrance again and slowly and calmly he pushed himself in her. Her bum came to instinctively push back against him, making Fred bottom out. His cock fitting snugly in her velvety and soft walls.

“Now we’re close love. Sleep yes? I’m right here?” She did felt the sleepiness came down on her again, her hands were resting on top of his, he had his arms over her, pulling her towards him. Being this close and having this intimacy with Fred, made her heart very full.

--

The way that their position had changed over night was that now their legs were intertwined. Their hands were still on top of each other. Fred did end up sleeping for a bit, but it was close to morning when he did so. So for hours he had to lay there, with y/n sleeping against him and moving on his cock and unknowingly clenching around him. So if sleep was already a thing he could very well go without, in that moment it was something that didn’t even crossed his mind.

But he did make himself fall asleep when he felt like he couldn’t take it any longer, and he didn’t want to wake the girl in his arms. So he was asleep when y/n woke up. She stirred out of her slumber, her hips moving, she forgot for a brief moment in what position she was in, but was quickly reminded when the head of cock brushed against her sweet spot, and she moaned quietly. Her hand squeezing his. She felt his fingers move slowly, she thought he was gonna wake up, but nothing came out of it. She tried to stop herself, she really did, but even when she was still, she felt his cock hard inside her, and her breathing had started to quicken.

So when her hips moved against his, and her moan came out a little louder than usual, is was inevitable that Fred was going to wake up. She heard him mumble, against her neck, his breathing very close to her hear, she shivered.

“Peach.” Fred said sleepy, still trying to figure out the world around him. It could take him no time at all to do so, but now it was taking a bit longer, maybe because the comfort and warmth her body was eradiating was making him feel all types of ways, good ones.

She stopped the movement of her hips, her bum was right up against his pelvis.

“Sorry, Fre-Fred.” Her voice trembled. She heard him sigh happily.

“Someone’s needy aren’t they?” one of the hands that was resting against hers comes down, slowly, over her belly and then to her pussy, her clit was swollen because of all the pleasure she was feeling, his fingers press on it.

“Fuck, Fred-“ her legs twitch, his tsks with his tongue.

“Not my name peach. You know my name don’t you’?” He brings his hips back an then against her again, his cock coming all out, only the tip inside and then he’s fully in inside her again.

“Daddy.” She whimpered, Fred felt bigger this way, the vain that runs along his cock when he’s hard can be felt against y/n’s soft walls. He draws back again and then slides all the way inside her again, this time it doesn’t just brush against her spot, it actually its it directly. She throws herself against his chest, his other hand came to rest on her chest, he pulls both nipples at the same time.

“Feels good doesn’t it baby? You just like to be fucked slow too don’t you? Just feel me all the way in that tight little pussy.” She could only nod. The whimpers turned into louder moans again, his name falling from her lips effortlessly. Her hand shad become sweaty, the tingly sensation on her clit had become tremendous. She lowered her hand, and when it touched her clit she clenched around his cock, Fred moaned right into her hear. “Fuck, just like that Peach. You are such a good girl for daddy.”

y/n doesn’t know if it was the touch on her clit or the fact that Fred had just called himself daddy, but she pressured harder on her clit, her head falling back to rest against his shoulder, his lips close to her hear and also her cheek, he laid a sweet kiss there.

She was wet, the noise that was coming from them was loud, and could almost be heard on top of their moans. Fred brough one of his legs to secure on of her legs bellow his, and then forced it open a little more, the angle made his cock it her spot without any failure.

“f-fuck.” Her body shook all over, the hand on her clit came to clench the sheet, the other came to rest on top of one of his hands in her nipples. “Please- Daddy please.”

“What do you want peach? Come on?”

“fuck me harder, please.”

He groaned, it was dark and low, and along with his sleepy voice that y/n had realized was that sexy it was enough to make her cum, right on top of his cock, she wetted his cock. Fred took this opportunity to pull his cock out, he was hard, leaky and wet with both her release and his pre cum, it was a messy sight really, but a beautiful one when y/n, out of breath instead of meeting his eyes, met his cock.

“I wanna suck you of, Daddy.” She was shy, and Fred felt the moment of it all in his cock, his hand coming down to stroke himself, from the red ruby tip to the base and to his balls that also looked red and swollen because of all the pleasure.  

“You don’t deserve it peach.” She looked confused. “Came on my cock and didn’t even ask, that’s no way to treat daddy right?” She couldn’t answer, her orgasm still pumped in her veins, but she was already wanting more just from the sight. Fred was on his knees in bed and she had turned to him moments before, and he had kept the movement on his cock, his theeth coming to meet his bottom lip to surpass a moan.

“I’m sorry.” She went to bring her hand to his cock, but he slapped it, gently, away.

“No peach. I touch myself, dirty girls like you get to wacth.” She swolloed hard, the tingles in her body coming to all connect at her clit. Her body involuntary grinded against the bed, but no avail given the fact that she was on her back and so her clit couldn’t grind on the sheets.

“You just look for every opportunity to be a bad girl don’t you? I thought you were my sweet cute little girly that loved daddy very much, not only his cock. Guess I was wrong.”

“You weren’t.” She said quickly, feeling the need to justify herself. “I’m your good girl daddy, please.”

His hand squeezed the head of his cock, his head fallinh back his hair, already messy, leaving his eyes to fall back, he could feel the orgasm in his belly, the pressure beginning to build, just one more. But he denied himself that.

He got up, y/n was confused while looking at him. Without any words he came to end of the bed and stretched one of his arms and pulled her close to him, her legs open for him.

“Just a beautiful sight. This pussy is mine beautiful, and only mine.” She nodded agreeing to what he was saying, her hands fighting the urge to touch her clit. “ You’re mine peach.”

“Only yours daddy.” Her head rested against her shoulder while she looked at him, the way one of his hands was still on his cock, stroking it very slowly, the vein looked so prominent, y/n wanted to run her tongue over it, from the tip of his cock to his balls and suck on them. She hadn’t had time to figure it out, but she believes Fred would be a sucker for that. And then his other hand was running over one of her legs and came to her pussy, she was so wet that he only had to insert two fingers in her without much effort. He curled them immediately.  Her eyes closed, a whimper came from her mouth and her hands, resting on the sheets closed in fists.

Fred was mesmerized by the sight in itself, because she looked like a goddess and Fred could not believe that a week ago he was priving himself of her. Of everything he knew she had to offer. But he had been scared, he still is. Very much. But he decided to trust her, trust life for once and live it. So now, looking at her all bent out of shape for him, moaning his name, her hair all sweaty and her nipples hard and pink from him playing with them earlier, he feels he made the right choice, by choosing her.

He brings his fingers back, and then adjusts her body so he can be close to her. His cock his brushing against her clit, the stimulation proved to be a lot for her. It’s when he slowly and painfully slides into her again that all his thought about anything else but her vanish.

They’re engulfed in each other again. Fred Slowly fuck into her, his hips coming to enter her completely.

“Gonna fuck you that the only thing you think of is me.” Both his hands came to rest on her knees and kept her legs open while he fucked into her, the view had his legs shake and almost looses balance. The way her pussy engulfed him, and took him in, it was a view he would have on his mind for the rest of his immortal life. Her hips meet his, she had wiggled herself to be even closer, her body needing him that much, it seemed no proximity was enough for her. His cock is big, y/n already knew that, but everytime he’s inside her he stretches her out so good, he fucks her deep and y/n wasn’t use to being fucked and handled like this.

The rhythm of slow but deep thrusts,  rapidly become one of him slamming his hips against her as hard and fast, his balls hitting her bum, his fingers leaving marks on her knees from how hard he was squeezing them.

“Just like that. Look at that. Made for my cock, you were.” She nodded, a complete moaning mess. “Touch your clit for me baby, come on. That’s what you need.” It’s the way they’ve only been intimate two time, this being the second one, and knowing that she needs clit stimulation. Fred would beg to differ, right now he just knew her body was getting tired, the first orgasm had not been strong but had came out of nowhere and her body felt that. But any other time he was sure he could make her cum without it.

She did what he asked, two of her fingers meeting her clit and putting hard and steady pressure on it, her legs almost closing if it weren’t for his touch in them. “I’m gonna cum. Daddy- Fred.” She didn’t even know what she was saying anymore. Fred was fucking her so hard, her vision had started to go blank. When she cums she makes no sound tho, her body feels so numb, but filled with so much pleasure that her brain had stopped functioning for a few moments.

“Bite me please.” Fred was so in his pleasure that he could have sworn he could have missed her voice, but she was so sweet, so low and so… gentle that when he looked at her he couldn’t believe what he was asking her, once more.

He lowered himself on top of her, his face close to hers, theirs lips brushed.

“Are you sure peach?” He had worry in his voice, the movement of his hips had slowed down, his orgasm was there hanging, he was almost there. And the way her pussy clenched around him was making everything so much harder.

She nodded again, her hands coming to pull him by his neck to kiss him. “Fred please, I want it.” She moved her head to her neck was on full display for him, his fangs feeling with venom, his hips starting to move again.

When he could feel his orgasm coming in to a close he bit her neck, he heard her scream, but the way her blood was sweet and tangy against his tongue for a moment he forgot it. His orgasm came crashing on him at that moment, his release coats her walls white, it’s strong and has her moan his name all over again. He works himself thru his orgasm and when he feels they are both being sensitive he pulls slowly at the same time he leaves her neck, but not before gliding his tongue over the too small holes for them to heal quickly.

“One day,” He started out of breath, his hands on her legs again caressing them slowly. “You’re gonna be the death of me. And my chew toy sweetheart.” The last part came out sad. She already had a scar and now she would have another one. They didn’t last long, they would fully disappear in week or two, but still.

“Fred, I want this.” She sat in front of him, feeling their releases slowly slip out of her but right now she couldn’t care less. “You don’t have to worry.” He lowered himself a little to gently kiss her lips.

“You are too sweet peach.”

--

It had been a month, a month of Fred going to pick up y/n everyday from the barey, and on the days she was free they would either spent it at her house, his, or he would plan something sweet for them to do.

It was during this month that y/n realized a lot. Fred was this gentle soul, his sweet love of hers that she would never get tired of. He did everything for her and showed her so much. He showed her a world she thinks she would never knew of his she hadn’t met him.

That’s why not long after this realization, feelings of terror had started in her. The bound was way more than Fred had initially explained, it had only gotten stronger the closer they become, and well, y/n was scared of thinking about a future where they wouldn’t be together.

Where she would grow old, and he was to stay like that, and live forever. He would be her whole world but she would only be a piece of his.

And her heart squeezed and shattered at the thought. Sometimes after he left she would cry, thinking of a future bright and happy with him. When she was with him during the day she tried to make the most of everything, but well, it was hard. She longed for more, for his touch and his feel all the time.

That’s also why, on a Sunday morning, when she is making herself comfortable in his house by making herself breakfast, and listening to songs the thought that had been lurking around on her mind for a week or so, becomes solid. It’s why when Fred comes down, all sleepy and groggy again (what still surprises her since he says vampires don’t need sleep) y/n feels this is the right time to tell him. Well if ‘right time’ even exists…

“Morning peach.”

“Morning.” She says all sweet, putting her breakfast down on the table, she knows Fred is not hungry because he had fed of her last night again. She didn’t mind, Fred always made sure she was well fed in case she would offer to feed of her any time. And also because he loved her very much. He also would not feed unless she would express such will.

“What’s on your mind?” Fred came around the table next to her and kissed her lips gently, and then her forehead. She looked at him. “Well, I know when you have something on your mind, you that face.” He jokes. His cold touch on her hot skin felt nice.

She figured that going straight to the matter would be easier and faster than dwelling on it much longer.

“I wanna become like you.”