#there's nothing wrong with all-in-one blogs it's just turning into an annoyance to me personally

[itwoodbeprefect]

i have a sideblog for asian (but mostly thai) series now:

@blatantprinterpropaganda 🖨✨

feel free to follow me over there, not follow me over there, or get creative and invent a secret third option!

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Heyy!! I absolutely ✨LOVE✨ your work I've basically been stalking your blog😅. But anyway I was wondering if you could please, please do Nozel, Fuegoleon,and William where their s/o (preferably f!) yells or very calmly (your choice, does not matter which or how) says their full name in front of family/friends/squad (again your choice could be all, depends on you) and their reaction to it. I completely understand if you don't want to do it or it takes you a while to get to it thank you for your work regardless! I wish you well!! ❤❤❤

Hiya! I am overjoyed that you like my fics!!! And though I took my sweet time with this, I hope that you still enjoy it <3

Pairings: Nozel x f!reader, Fuegoleon x f!reader, William x f!reader Fanfic type: Headcanons Genre: hurt-comfort?, and some giggles ?? Total length: ~2k (about 650 words each) Contains: misunderstandings, reader raising her voice to the guys/displays anger to them, they make up in the end ('cause it was a misunderstanding), hurt-comfort, so fluffy ends

Nozel

You had a favourite pen. The kind in which you could change the ink cartilage, and thus keep using the pen for years and years. Though the ink dispensing mechanism had broken some years ago, you held onto the pen itself for sentimental value.

And it was always in a specific drawer in your room.

However, one day when you opened the drawer, the pen case nor the pen were there.

You scrambled through the drawer, first thinking to yourself that it must’ve just been pushed back, but after scouring through the drawer, the box, nor the pen, didn’t surface.

Your mind jumped to the idea of a servant having taken it, but quickly realized that it didn’t make sense. They didn’t go through drawers such as this one. ‘Such as this one’ because they obviously folded your clothes and put them into your clothing drawers. But this one was of no importance to the servants. And even if they had, for any reason, chosen to go through other drawers in the room, the pen case was among the least likely things to take.

Which meant that there was only one other person, who could’ve likely taken it. Your husband.

He was currently with the rest of the Eagles at the squad’s training grounds, and though he was occupied, you wanted to, needed to know now why he had discarded your favourite pen. Yes, sure, it was broken, but there was no harm in holding onto such a small item. You had space!

So, you stomped through the corridors to the training grounds, and spotted him some distance away, looking at his knights. Seeming somewhat uninterested. Or just held his poker face.

This was where he held his poker face. Looked as if nothing had happened.

And it spiked a kind of annoyance, anger even, in you, which made you yell out to him: “Nozel Evander Silva!”

He turned to look.

Other knights turned to look.

The trainings halted for a moment, and everyone just looked at you, glaring at Nozel.

He looked to the knights standing next to him, and said something, before walking towards you, as you crossed your arms and waited for him to get to you. And as he did, he looked at you, with concern on his face, hidden behind the mask of the squad captain.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, the syllables revealing more of his feelings than the expression that quivered, trying to upkeep the facade of a strong, unfaltering squad captain.

“Where. Is. My. Pen?” You asked, feeling the annoyance, almost anger, bubbling to the surface. “You know how much it means to me!” You said with a grave tone, without raising your voice, so that the knights wouldn’t hear. There was no need for them to know such details of your personal life.

His eyes closed in a slow blink, and a sigh escaped his lips. “I was hoping to surprise you,” he said with a hint of melancholy.

You frowned, not sure what, exactly, he meant by it.

“I thought to get it fixed, so that you might use it again, instead of just having it sit in that drawer,” he admitted.

And you... felt a wide variety of emotions. Affection, joy, but also guilt, guilt for having thought that he would have discarded it.

So, you took a step forward, and wrapped your arms around his middle.

He tensed in your embrace, and you could feel the ever so slight movement of his head to look back towards his knights. The look over his shoulder due to the public display of affection.

But he didn’t push away.

And you did let go, after a brief moment. You just needed him to know that he was important to you, and you appreciated the gesture he did for you.

Fuegoleon

Fuegoleon has asked you to find his calendar for him, so that me might go straight from the training session with his knights to the meeting at the castle.

And you happily obliged with the request. After all, you did want to help him with his duties and make his life easier, just like he did for you.

So, you entered his office, and begun looking for the calendar. It wasn’t on the desk, not on first glance at least, so it must’ve been in the desk drawer. Or that seemed like the most likely conclusion to make, which is why you made your way to his desk, circling onto the side of his chair.

Your hands moved to the drawers, but... as your gaze became directed down, you noticed your name on a piece of paper, which made your curiosity pique. After all, because your name was on it, it must’ve concerned you, right? So, it was alright if you looked at what it said on that piece of paper. Right?

You slid the paper along the surface of the desk closer to you, and started skimming it through. But... as you did, and your eyes landed on the line of “...will not be ordered on another mission” anger bubbled inside of you.

What did he mean you weren’t going to be assigned another mission?! Did he not think that you could handle it?!

You clenched the paper in your hand and stormed out of the room with one intention, and one intention only: to find your husband and demand an explanation.

Luckily, you knew exactly where to find him, so you made your way to the training grounds, and locked eyes on him as soon as you were outside.

You walked up to him, as his knights slowly, while trying not to seem like they were looking, looked at you. After all, perhaps there was a need to pause the training, because the captain was overseeing it, after all.

“Fuegoleon. Alexander. Vermillion,” you spoke in a calm manner, but enunciated every name, every syllable, while looking straight in the eye.

You could see his eyes flicker, but he continued to look at you. “Yes?” There was hesitance in his tone, as if puzzled what was the cause of all this.

“What did you do?” You asked, with an equally cold tone as before.

“I... really couldn’t tell you,” he replied with a frown and an uncertain, confused tone as he continued to look at you.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a quirked eyebrow.

“Could we perhaps go to the side to discuss this through?” He suggested, to which you agreed with a nod. There wasn’t, really, a reason to make this into a public spectacle after all, and, he did deserve a chance to explain. He was a reasonable man. After all. It seemed. You had supposed him to be one.

But even before you had stopped on your way to the sidelines, you looked at him while holding that paper forward.

“What does this mean?!” You demanded to know. “Do you not trust me on missions? Is that why you wouldn’t assign me on one anymore?”

He blinked. Looked at the paper. And then back to you.

Then his lips became laced with... hints of amusement, and an apology. “My love... you’re more than welcome to partake on missions in the future. The formulation of ‘will not be ordered’ is simply a technicality to give you more freedom of choosing your missions,” he explained. “Of course the difficulty level of your missions would be expected to only grow, but this is more to give you, on paper, a say as to which mission you will embark on, if there are multiple ones of similar difficulty level active simultaneously.” He pointed to another line on the bottom of the page. “See?” There was another apology in his tone.

“Oh.” You uttered, looking at the line.

“But I do apologise,” he continued. “I should have discussed it with you, instead of having you find out this way.”

“You should,” you said, while looking down to the side. “But... I also... shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions... I know you well enough,” you continued, because, it really would have been out of place for him to just make such a decision as to pull you away from missions entirely all on his own.

“Truce?” He asked, looking at you with a gentle gaze that bore all his affection and devotion to you.

“Truce,” you agreed while feeling warmth on your cheeks.

It had been a simple misunderstanding, and miscommunication. But. It wouldn’t come in between of the two of you.

William

William’s office had been so barren before you had entered his life. Which is why the first thing you got for him, was a plant into his office.

He was a little bit confused about it, but didn’t turn down the gift. And as you explained that it’d make the air in his office better, by producing more oxygen, and would add some life and colour in there, he nodded in understanding.

And he begun taking good care of it. Watered it regularly, changed its soil and gave it nutrients if there was a need. Which really warmed your heart, because ... in a weird way, it was like he was tending to your relationship through the plant.

However, one morning when you entered his office. The plant wasn’t there. Which you thought was odd. So, you looked around the office, and the bedroom, but... it didn’t seem to be... anywhere?

Your mind begun circling with all kinds of possibilities, until... it landed on the plant having died and him having thrown it away. And that made you feel hurt. Sad. Angry.

You had looked at him tend to the plant so carefully, and now he had just thrown it away? You would’ve helped him take care of it, if he had only asked, but instead he has just... disposed of it.

So... he would hear about it. Oh, he would most certainly hear about it.

You walked out of the room with a mission to find him, which is why you begun circling around the base. You looked at every, single, possible room in which you thought he could be, until you spotted him from the window while talking to his knights.

Your hand grasped onto the handle of the window, and you opened it with a swift motion.

“William Thaddeus Vangeance!” You yelled, making him look at you. “Don’t. Move. One. Inch! I need to have a word with you!”

And you closed the window before racing down and outside, where he was still standing, and his knights were... still there? This didn’t really concern them, and it looked like they intuitively realized it as you marched over to William.

“Where is the plant?” You asked, looking straight at him.

He frowned, and his eyes flickered to his knights, to whom he said as a side note: “You’re dismissed,” to which the knights nodded and begun walking away.

“Where is the plant?” You repeated.

He frowned again, as if to connect the dots.

And then it dawned on him.

“Oh, the plant is on the balcony to get a little bit more sunlight,” he replied with a baffled look.

You blinked.

And looked at him.

“It looked a little down so... I thought that some more sun would do it good?” He said, sounding a little but uncertain.

“So... you didn’t .. throw it away,” you uttered out loud, without really meaning to.

“No..?” He said with a questioning frown. “Why would I throw it away?”

“No reason,” you said while cupping his face.

And he continued to give you a baffled look as you placed a kiss onto his cheek.

He really was tending to it. The plant, and your relationship

[lemotmo]

Yes allow us to be positive and excited about the possibilities!!

Q. Full disclosure the Buck/Tommy kiss brought me in but I wanted to know the story so I went back and watched the entire series and by the time I made it to season 7 Tommy was toast. It was Eddie all the way. The behavior of his fandom was also extremely off-putting. But obviously I am new to the BTS stuff, have Oliver and Ryan not always been like this? I went back and found as much BTS content as I could from last season and there definitely seemed to be an enthusiasm gap between the first half and the back half of the season, especially for Oliver. I was just curious what their norm is. Love your blog btw!!!

A. Aww thank you, anon, and welcome to the family! I promise it's usually much nicer around our parts than it has been this off season. There is nothing wrong with the B/T kiss bringing you into the fold. You did the right thing by going back and getting the context of the entire story. That particular fandom not wanting to understand or learn about Buck's character will never not be dumbfounding to me. Although the reason they refuse to go back and watch the history is because of what you said in your ask. Based on the asks I, and many others have received, much like yourself everyone who went back and watched ended up pro Eddie not pro Tommy. Because context is everything. Context is the enemy of Tommy so his fans don't want people to have it. But the ones who had been around understand the Eddie of it all and that's why they tried so hard to steal Eddie's entire characterization and headcanon it as Tommy's. Because of course they did.

As for Oliver and Ryan the short answer is no. They have not always been like they were in the early BTS of least season, and they definitely have never been the way they are now. They've been friends but they went through a rough period for a bit and have seemingly come out the other side closer than ever. I am not in the camp of people who believe that means anything romantic on their part. I just genuinely believe they love and care for one another and what they went through has made their bond stronger. I also think the chains fox very clearly constricted them with have been removed by ABC and it shows. They both seem much happier where they are now. It's one of the things that was so hard about 7b. Oliver was so excited in every single interview right up until 7x6 filming was complete, which of course was the bachelor party episode, and the last episode before the rewrites took over. We literally watched his enthusiasm die in real time and it was awful. The enthusiasm level from the cast as a whole changed entirely following episode 6. It was obvious none of them were fans of the 7b changes. Oliver was just the worst at hiding his annoyance. Oliver is like Buck in that when he is excited about something it's obvious and when he isn't happy about something it's equally obvious. He completely shut down and it made what was already turning into a massively disappointing second half of the season even more difficult to watch. I think that's partly why the Lou cameos took hold of that fandom like they did. He was the only one who seemed remotely interested in the story, such as it was. They wanted someone to fan girl with and it became very clear very quickly that person wasn't going to be Oliver. He wanted nothing whatsoever to do with it after 7x4. Which, to me, should have told that fandom something but whatever. I think Buddie was supposed to happen last season. I think they were told about it. The scripts were written and they got excited about finally getting the greenlight. But they got renewed so fast that Tim decided he wanted to slow it down, and everything got put on hold. And as a result Oliver mentally checked out. It was fairly telling when he wasn't the one doing the interviews anymore. He is their PR unicorn. He's always the first choice and they stopped sending him because it was clear he wasn't into the 7b storylines. He couldn't fake any enthusiasm for it. They sent him on one interview to promote the finale and it didn't go well. He clearly didn't want to be there. Following that interview, show wise, we didn't see him or hear from again until production started on the new season. We also never heard from Lou again shortly thereafter. And before anyone tries to start anything that was not typical behavior of Oliver so that tells you everything you need to know about how unhappy he truly was by the end of the season.

Ryan wasn't much better. He just didn't have the luxury of being left alone. He was the off-season promotion. The tone his interviews had immediately following the finale made it clear he also wasn't happy. It was an abysmal back half of the season and forcing him to try and spin it in any kind of positive way was never going to work. He couldn't be bothered to try and spin it. He didn't want to talk about it. His interviews that came later all had a distinct tonal shift in a far more positive direction. That's also when he started using gender neutral pronouns and talking about Eddie learning to love himself this season in order to be ready for his person. I believe whatever the plan was last season is what the plan now is this season. And whatever that plan is has made Oliver and Ryan both noticeably more enthusiastic and engaged. But as you know, anon, saying that out loud is both homophobic and also somehow racist so fair warning. But I'm going to be positive and I'm going to take my cues from Oliver and Ryan. I'm not going to let that fandom suck my joy anymore. I'm glad you found the show and I'm glad you've chosen to stay. Here's to a better season for us all. Cheers 🍻

Thank you Nonny for dropping this into my inbox. :)

I'm not going to add anything here. I think Ali said it beautifully.

Also, shout out to a viewer who was smart enough to go all the way back to season 1 and see why we are all still here rooting for Buddie. :D

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[ryndicate]

Hypothermic ⨳ Todoroki Touya

“Still thinkin’ about running?”

warnings: fem body/pronouns, zombie apoc au (ofc), assault, enemies to not quite enemies, gun mentions, choking, quirkless au (no scars), blood mentions, dry humping, make out, starts out dubcon as in he doesnt ask first but she doesnt tell him to stop, and a semi ungodly pov switch but let’s run with it

event: @medusashima’s Rise of the Dead collab! Click the link for similiar lovely works!

notes: thank you for being so accommodating of me Dusa!! this came right from my soul. Love how its somehow a zombie au fic with no direct contact with zombies but like.... it works. and im over the moon about it (himmm)

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules/DNI

The first thing Touya notices, besides the glaringly obvious there’s an intruder—is that somehow, you’re both pretty and don’t look like much. Pretty in a way that wiggles old thoughts into his brain, old from long gone time where’d hesitate to hurt a little thing like you. But there’s a more prominent, high prevailing relief that he’s confident he can, because he has to. Because of that stupid little ramen cup that you’re helping yourself to right now. Because there’s no way you’d have that right now now unless—unless…

The undead corpses on his front lawn had been his first clue to something being wrong. Shoto doesn’t leave the zombie fuckers to rot if he can help it, an annoyance Touya’s barked at plenty of times as a waste of time and energy, only for his words to be met with quiet disapproval. So to find four of the disgusting things still pouring putrid black and stenching up the frost on his front porch…well, it gave Touya reason to be cautious. Swallowing a burst of nostalgia, he quietly opens the kitchen window—the back door squeaks loud enough to wake the dead—and climbs through with perfect silence, a skill earned in a long forgotten world that had been nothing but a blessing in the world it had turned into. The slow movements it requires give his swirling panicking mind a moment to gauge all the what if's, but when he discovers that the person sitting in his house is not his little brother it's impossible not to come to a single grim conclusion. 

That’s how he was lucky enough to get the drop on you, sitting in front of the makeshift fireplace in his beaten up living room, slurping up that ramen cup like it’s the only thing you’ve eaten in days—and given how his last run went, it’s pretty fucking likely that's how it is. Touya had already been in a pretty foul mood on his return to the safehouse, leaving to find the one thing they’re always running out of. And for the first time, he had nothing to fucking show for it. Clouds on the horizon sent him trekking home empty-handed. Scavengers fearing the approaching cold probably cleared everything out before he could get a look in. Everything they had left to eat, which wasn't much, he’d left with Shoto—who'd promised him that stupid instant ramen on his return. Said he'd save it for last. And damn it all if he couldn’t trust everything that came from his brother’s mouth, even in a world like this. 

The seconds are dragging past in Touya's mind but he knows in real time you'll notice him any moment now. By luck or skill, you've survived this long, and that counts for something. He can't give you the benefit of the doubt. He’s got a gun, secured in the waist of his jeans, but it’s been out of bullets for ages now. It’s mainly been a deterrent for strangers, kept in vain hope that he finds more ammo one day. He’d use it now, if he wanted to scare you.

But he doesn’t. Touya’s past that now. His knife comes off his belt just as silently as he came through the window. Stepping quickly on the balls of his feet, Touya crosses the room towards you, and you react a mere breath before the blade finds a new home in your neck.

Your body twists, and his reach slashes too wide. Before he can redirect the arc you’ve got your hands braced on his arm, forcing it straight with a strength he couldn’t have expected from you. Touya snarls at the combination of anger and fear on your face. You have no right. 

“The fuck’re you doing?” you growl at him through grit teeth. There’s evident strain in your voice so Touya doubles down and your wince sends a blistering satisfaction tearing through his body. When your grip weakens, he lets the blade fall and tackles you to the carpet. 

You let out a muffled yell as your back hits the ground hard, and Touya is quick to plant himself over your center mass, hands bearing down on your throat. You buck and thrash, trying to dislodge his weight, movements limited as you try to block him from cutting off your air. Touya spits a curse down at you as your nails shred at his wrists and the back of his hands. It’s incredibly difficult to keep hold of you. You’re like a fucking animal, choking and wheezing and hissing and fucking growling at him as you fight him off. With ridiculous effort, you manage to shove one of his hands off and get leverage with your feet on the ground, using his own weight to send him in an ungainly tumble to the floor.

It’s startling how quickly you react after that, gasping for air and lunging for him, putting a fist in his gut. The force of it shoves air and spittle from his lungs and has him sucking in air desperately. He rolls away from you as you pounce at him again, your shoulder checking his chin and giving him the taste of blood in his mouth before he gets a solid shove at your chest, resulting in a moan of pain. There’s a brief pause as he staggers to his feet and he freezes as his eyes lock with the gun you now have pointed at him.

You seem to have frozen as well, joints locked and chest heaving.

After a long moment Touya scoffs. “What? You just gonna point the thing at m—”

The gun clicks; time shifts; Touya jerks. 

There’s no gunshot, and your eyes fly wide in obvious fear. Time slows down just enough for him to realize that he recognizes that gun, patting his waistband. His eyes narrow, and you react, whipping the gun right at him.

Touya dodges and you turn and sprint from the living room. He lunges after you, skidding nimbly into the hall as you make a run for it. He grabs at the back your jacket, howling a curse as you jerk out of his grip, the material making an audible ripping sound and snagging at one of his nails instead, forcing him to falter. Blood wells up out of the cuticle and drips down his hand; Touya grips it tightly, hissing through his teeth and tearing after you again, catching up with you right as you start slamming a door on him. He gets his weight against the door and there’s a mad struggle as you both become opposing forces, but there’s a moment where he loses traction, the blood from his finger making his hand slide.

The door slams shut and Touya slams his fist against the wood as fury overtakes him.

“Where’s my brother, you fucking bitch!” 

Fucker was carrying an empty gun!

You wildly look around the small space that you despairingly realize is a bathroom. The man is still pounding on the door, shouting, and shaking the handle. You have no idea what he’s talking about and you need a fix before he stops being pissed enough to figure out that a few solid kicks is all it would take to get through the flimsy wood. You rip down the grimy plastic shower curtain and twist it tightly around the handle, looping it through the towel bar above the sink, hosting a pair of decrepit floral washcloths that look like they haven’t been used since patient zero. You continue weaving the figure eight until you’re forced to tie it off as you run out of length. It’s not much, but it’ll buy you an extra minute or two if you’re lucky. 

The handle creaks with one last aggravated twist. There’s a short silence that follows as you stare at the door, heart beating out of your chest. Then his voice filters through the door, a throaty rasp full of a rage that makes you quake with adrenaline and fear.

“Ain’t nowhere for you to go, lady. Get the fuck out here and maybe I won’t kill ‘ya.”

This not what you’d bargained for. “Like I’m gonna trust the guy who tried to stab me without so much as a hello.”

He chuckles, a soft sound that you’d find pretty if it weren’t for the way your skin breaks out in goosebumps that have nothing to do with the cold. “You want a hello? Come get one.”

Ignoring him—and the way your body tremors—you turn and start trying to peel away the board covering what must be a small window. If you’re lucky enough to get it off, maybe you can drop out through the window. 

But after a solid half hour of tugging, scraping and peeling, and nothing more to show for it than torn and bloody fingernails, you admit defeat. Wincing, you carefully wipe away the blood on your jeans and listen to see if he’s still outside the door. It’s hard to tell anything over your thumping pulse in your own ears, but it sounds quiet. 

It’s better not to risk it. You settle against the back of the tub and sit; if you wait long enough, he’ll pass out and you can slip out quietly. Moving quietly and disappearing is the only thing that’s kept you alive this far, especially after the last group you left. The last thing you want to do is be out at night, between the cold and poor visibility—that’s just asking to get killed. But no part of you can deny that facing that deranged stranger outside this door would be doing more than just asking. 

Time passes slowly, painfully. Ever since the turn, dozing off idly became a thing of the past, something dangerous. You’re stuck being alert and aware of every little creak, every little sigh this house can produce. The wind tears around outside and your fingertips have become numb. It’s gotten much colder tonight that it has in the past few days, and you dig your arms from your sleeves into the body of your clothing in an attempt to keep warm.

A light tapping puts you on edge before you realize you’re shaking so hard that the buttons on your jacket are clacking against the floor. You clench your jaw. You have to try now; if you wait any longer it’ll be too cold to make it down the street, let alone how far you’ll need to get away from this place to feel comfortable ever again. Your joints protest as you stand as silently as you can, after sitting for so long. It’s much more painstaking to get the shower curtain from the door; it’s like trying to tiptoe with a windbreaker, but eventually you manage and crack the door open. 

The house is dark, but even after a few moments no one shoves the door open, so pull it wider and peek out. There’s no sign of him. You step quietly out and feel your way down the wall, back towards the living room. There’s no chance you’ll get your pack back, not much in it besides clothes and water anyways, but you’ll have to make do. You inch into the kitchen where you remember seeing a backdoor, and gently turn the lock before pulling the door open. The hinges squeak so painfully loud that you suck in a breath, heart thudding in panic, but that’s not what has you frozen, shivering in the doorway.

What you heard from the bathroom floor wasn’t just wind, but a full blown snowstorm. It’s too early for snow, at least you’d thought, but here it is swirling so thick that you can’t see more than a couple of feet into the yard, and there’s already about a foot of snow. The moon highlights your breath getting swept away in the wind.

“Still thinkin’ about running?”

You shut the door and warily face him, not deigning to answer. The chances of making it more than a couple of blocks without freezing to death are slim. You can’t see much but his silhouette and a mess of pale hair, so it’s hard to make out what he’s thinking. All you know is that he hasn’t wrapped his hands around your neck yet.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t go pointing a gun at me again, and I won’t kill you tonight.”

“Try not to stab me then.”

You think he’s smiling. “No promises.” 

Another shudder wracks through you and you try to tighten your jacket around your body. There’s a tear somewhere near the underarm seam—another reason why running is a terrible option.

“C’mon. It won’t last the night, but I’ve got a small fire going.” He turns his back on you, and you have no choice but to follow him. “Name’s Touya, by the way.”

The “fire” Touya’s got up is nothing but a few table legs crumbling into ember, but you have to admit it’s much warmer in here than it was in the bathroom. The soft light gives you your best look at him yet, and you notice he’s far more handsome than he should be. Hair a bright white, his skin is fair beneath the light grime, and he has piercing green, maybe blue eyes—it’s hard to tell in the flickering orange glow. 

He glances at your raised eyebrow and scoffs. “Look, it’s all I had left. Shoto was supposed to be gathering wood while I was gone.”

You sit slowly a small distance away from him, as close to the fire as you can get. He tosses you a ratty blanket that had been hanging off the back of the couch. “Is Shoto your brother?”

He looks at you and scowls. “Yeah he is, and the only reason I haven’t come after you again is because I have no leads if you’re dead. I need you, if I’m gonna find out what happened to him.”

“Is that why you attacked me?” you ask him quietly. He’s throwing a couple of torn book covers into the embers, light flickering brighter as they catch and blaze. “You think I—”

“An eye for an eye,” Touya chuckles, his expression hardening into something devoid, something frightening. 

“I didn’t kill your brother.” You tell him softly, wondering how you’re supposed to convince him when he’s already convinced himself. You have no idea who he is. He simply stares at you.

“Right.”

“Look when I got here, there were a bunch of zoms in the yard. I barely got past them, my knife broke in one of their heads. I figured the place was empty and needed somewhere to hole up. I never saw your brother, I swear.” Touya’s expression is still hard, but his eyes have begun to flicker with doubt. “Bet you went through my bag already. You know I don’t have any weapons. I’ve got no reason to lie.”

“Other than to save your own neck.”

“Isn’t that what we’re all trying to do?” You glare at him. “Look, if he was here, I would’ve asked him to let me in. I’ve never… I’ve never killed someone like that before.”

“Like what?” He looks at you now, eyebrows slackening at the tremble in your voice. “You were all too willing to pull the trigger on me.”

“Self-defense is different.” You look away, curling your legs to your chest. “I’ve never…murdered someone. I’ve seen it happen before, but I can’t. That’s why I’m so good at running.”

Touya stills, seemingly taking in your words, sifting through them like one would examine sand through a looking a glass. Finally, he sighs.  

“He’s not dead.” You glance at him; that didn’t really seem like he was talking to you, so you let it rest in the air like that. His eyes shine in the dying fire before they flicker and pin themselves to you.

“So that’s why’re you alone, then? Couldn’t kill someone?”

Your lips twist into a frown, and you look away from him, resting your chin on your knees. Your mind is a swirl of blazing violet eyes, crimson full of rage, viridian vexed of indecision. “My last group was falling apart. Left before things got ugly, been on my own since.”

“How long ago was that?” Touya asks quietly.

You peek at him warily. “Long enough.”

He nods at you at that, grunting as he lays down and gets comfortable. You take that as his signal that conversation is over and follow suit, inching closer to the tiny flames that you vainly pray will last the night.

The night passes but sleep does not come for you, held at bay by memories that you wish would fade as quickly as the fire seems to, a deep cold settling over you as the embers turn to smoke. You pull the blanket tighter around you, now scared to sleep in case you don’t wake up.

“Well fuck,” Touya sighs, sitting up and leaning on his palms. You can hear his teeth chattering. With the fire gone you can’t see his face, there’s no lighting coming through the covered windows either. “Daylight’s still a few hours off. That sucks, ain’t nothing for it.”

“What?”

He rolls into your space and you try to scramble away from him, only for him to yank you to his chest and curl and arm around your back.

“You’re fucking insane.”

“No, I’m fucking freezing, and not interested in dying. You interested in dying? Or I don’t know, losing a few fingers and toes?”

You glare into his chest, clenching your jaw to keep your teeth from echoing his own chattering.

“That’s what I thought.”

After your racing heart settles, you hate to admit that it’s the only way. Wrapped up in his arms, tugged tight to his chest like this…it’s still cold, but an endurable kind of cold, the kind that has you worming your way closer to him to make it less uncomfortable. 

“Don’t,” you warn him as you feel his cheek stretch into a grin against your temple.

“Alright, alright. Fine. Could make this nicer, you know. Just sayin’.”

Suspicion blooms in your chest at his cheeky attempt at charm. “What are you talking about?”

A growl tears up your throat as he rolls you onto your back, ready to shove him off but you tense in shock as he leans down and closes his lips on the spot right beneath your ear. You exhale sharply on instinct. You haven’t been touched like this since—you slam your mind closed on those thoughts and try to think through his tongue tracing over your pulse point.

“Wh– what are you doing?”

“‘M gonna make you warm,” he whispers, nosing up and nipping lightly at the shell of your ear.

“Holy fuck, you are crazy. I’m not sleeping with you,” you hiss sharply, trying to wiggle away from him.

Touya tosses his head back in a wry laugh. “Sweetheart, if you think I’m dropping my pants in a blizzard, you’re crazier than me.”

“Then, then wh—”

“Shut up and stop thinking for a minute, won’tcha?” Touya grumbles and lowers himself back towards you, capturing your lips and working your mouth open with a little rumble of approval when you relax back to the floor. One hand comes up to hold your cheek, fingers cradled around the back of your head and the way he groans into your mouth sends a heatwave of embarrassment and arousal crackling across your body.

He paws at your covered chest, something warm and hard digging into your thigh as he grinds against you, and you resist the insane urge to wrap your legs around his waist.

Like he’s reading your mind, long fingers dig into one of your thighs and hike it up, and you gasp into his mouth as he shifts and suddenly his clothed dick is pressed hard against your core.

“Oh, you ain’t so hard are you?” Touya chuckles as you bite his lower lip in retaliation. You can almost imagine his eyes flashing at you as he begins to grind against you in slow, controlled motions. Your clit throbs underneath the rub of denim, and you can feel yourself slowly soaking through the material of your panties. “Still fiesty though. ‘S nice.”

“Fuck you.”

Touya groans, fingers digging into your hips as if trying to pull you up into him. “Don’t make me think about that, darlin’”

“Not your darling.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep reminding me darlin’.”

He moans low and sweet into into your neck, suckling softly in one spot and continually moving to the next. It’s maddening and you keep shifting and rocking your body into to his, feeling pleasure unfurl in you so hot and deep, clit pulsing and sensitive, sparking until you’re sure it’s going to take you apart.

Touya stiffens, hips jumping before he grits his teeth and collapses gently over your chest, fists curled tight on either side of your head. The swirling ball of pleasure that had been moments from reach boils and begins to fade, leaving you gasping in frustration.

“Seriously, you’re stopping now?” you whine, squirming when he holds you in place. 

“‘M not interest in finding out how fast my pants would freeze to my dick with spunk all twisted up in there,” he snarls under his breath, biting back the urge to keep rutting against your body. “Believe me, sweetheart. Blueballing myself is not the end goal here. Fuck. You’re warm now, yeah?”

You’re struggling to get your heavy breaths under control, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. You’re warm all over, but you don’t know how long that’s gonna last. 

Touya grabs the ends of the blankets and makes sure they’re tucked around you both, shifting so that he’s no longer on top of you, but on his side next to you. “Then fucking sleep, okay? I know you haven’t yet. We’ll figure it out later. Deal?”

You snort. By figure it out, you wonder if he’s talking about the thing still twitching against your hip, or the whole mess of a situation. But either way, you’re heeding him. As the rush slowly drifts from your system, exhaustion takes over and you find yourself dead asleep, tucked under his arm. 

[simplegenius042]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by no one. For I am the one doing the tagging!

Tagging: @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @shallow-gravy @wrathfulrook @snake-in-the-garden @alwayssunnyinedensgate @gaeadene @chazz-anova @cassietrn @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @voidika @poisonedtruth @detectivelokis @henbased @purplehairsecretlair @g0dspeeed @inafieldofdaisies and @vampireninjabunnies-blog + anyone else who wants to join.

Sharing two WIPs. The first is of chapter two of the Jurassic World Before The Storm fic, chapter one of which will be released in SIX days now, while the other WIP is of my FC5 fic Silva's Hope.

Here's the snippet of my Jurassic World WIP below:

“Now that introductions have been made, it’s best to get moving to cover more time for the day,” the woman, Zara, replies.

Joaquin didn’t need to look up at Lisa to know an annoyed scowl was in the midst of forming. Cautiously, he reached out a hand to her crossed arms, a gentle weight on them.

When she shifted her attention to him, the scowl had left, replaced with her soft gaze of hazel acknowledging the nervousness in his small brown eyes.

The eye-contact did not last long, for Joaquin strained to keep hold of the tender look he knew Lisa struggled to share even in her happiest moods. The comfort he should feel turned into distress as she kept staring at him. Overwhelmed and not wanting to have a “panic” in public, Joaquin broke the direct contact and looked away.

Joaquin disliked the prolonged action, how it rubbed him the wrong way when others stared at him for longer than he felt was necessary. Especially when the look into his eyes like they’re searching for some hidden secret. Made him feel sick, like if butterflies were flapping around in his belly.

He also felt as if he had done wrong against Lisa. It wasn’t her fault; his “anxieties”, his “shyness”, his “meek nature”. Just like her “happy moods” and “sad moods” weren’t within her control. His sister was aware of his skittishness, he knew that, and best of all never shunned him for it.

But he sometimes wished that he could give Lisa the comfort she deserved to have.

With her focus no longer on him, Joaquin heard Lisa conversing with Zara once more, much to his relief.

“Ms Dearing had agreed she’d meet us in person,” Lisa gritted out with renewed patience, “What changed?”

“Ms Dearing has been held up by unfinished affairs,” Zara replied, a small smile tugging at her lips as she softly shook her head fondly, “But nothing has changed. I will tour you through the park and show where you will be staying.”

Joaquin saw Lisa’s crossed hands clenching tightly. He also saw Lisa chewing her cheek in contemplation.

Hopefully she doesn’t bite it too hard again, he worried privately, and was unable to stop the stray thought as more came with it, Too hard and her sore might reopen. Then blood would pour out. And she’d be in pain, red slipping out, and he wouldn’t know what to do! She would get an infection, and the carers would come back and take him away from her and he’d be left alone without his sister, and she would be left without him, and it would be all his fault-!

Joaquin snapped out of the rapidly growing panicked thoughts as Zara’s voice speared through the air, looking towards the older woman, who had received no acknowledgement or response from his sister, “Will that be alright, Ms Cobalt?”

Joaquin barely heard the teeth-clenched confirmation from his undoubtedly agitated sister, “Just dandy.”

The agitation seemed to not bother Zara, or maybe it flew over her head, it was hard to tell.

“Wonderful. If you would kindly follow me to the monorail, I believe we can make it to the great lunch specials,” Zara spoke with a pleased and jovial voice. Though that could just be her music that seemed lay on her voice.

Zara turned tail and started walking towards the monorail station. Lisa and Joaquin glanced to one another, the former failing to contain her annoyance, the latter waiting for his sister's next move as he recovered from his own frenzied menagerie of anxious thoughts.

And here's a snippet of Silva's Hope (again this is under heavy development, this is just what I feel confident with so far, even if it the final product might be different):

"So," Kamski's voice returned from the static of the walkie talkie, finally arriving at the topic of importance, "Were you hired?"

Silva sipped again on the hot liquid of her brewed coffee, undeterred by the strong smell tingling her nose. She had gotten used to it.

Brushing a strand of dark hair back, Silva pressed the button and relayed the news she knew Kamski was dreading to hear, "I had been. Answered questions, kept to the story, no problems occurred. Interview went on without a hitch. Sheriff said I begin at the week's end."

Silence befell the kitchen, the lamps strewn throughout Silva's home now the only source of lights left to illuminate the rooms. She made her way to the maroon couch, seating herself in the middle. She brought the mug to her lips once more as Kamski made his reply.

"Not that I don't trust your judgement Silva, but are you sure you should be interacting with the locales Americanos? They can be quite... divisive."

Kamski's voice was steady as he spoke, but Silva could pick up the underlying hints of worry underneath the gruffness. Despite this, she could not hold back an amused snort at his words, "And we've never been?"

"You know what I mean Silva," Kamski responded, tone stern and serious, "This isn't la Minas. The community can be unpredictable if they acquire certain information."

Gulping down the last of her coffee, Silva settled the mug on the table before countering, "And this isn't the Archipiélagos either, Kamski. You and I are more likely to die in an automobile accident because we got distracted looking at something new, shiny and different before anyone decides to aim a weapon at either one of us for petty and meaningless mierda."

Kamski grunted over the transmitter, and Silva exhaled a breath out. This had been a common back-and-forth. It wasn't unwarranted, especially with two of the worst tragedies Silva's ever faced years prior. But Silva had been tired of it. The grief. The anger. The empty loneliness.

[mingi-bubu]

51. Public Kiss

*slaps my blog like it’s the top of a minicooper and i’m a car salesman* this baby can store so much unrelated and untold lore for this fantasy!verse wooyoung x gn!reader, san & seonghwa best friends, fae!wooyoung, elemental manipulator!reader, werewolf!san, and shape-shifter!seonghwa, fantasy & uni au, it’s not outright stated but yeosang is able to manipulate light, 854 words 76 Kisses Masterlist

“Hey!  What the fuck?”  You shout across the quad.  You barely processed the dozen or so people and humanoids around you.  The world was narrowed to the man you were yelling at, who was slowly turning around with naked terror on his face.

His friends share the look.  Well, you say his friends.  Technically they are your friends, too, but you were conveniently ignoring that fact.  It’s almost funnier to see San and Seonghwa looking at you like you were about to pull a sword out of thin air and use it on Wooyoung.  That was stupid; just because Hongjoong could do that doesn’t mean you can.  You were better with elemental material manipulation, not objects.  You stalk across the grass and pavement, barely stumbling over the changes in the ground as it rises to meet you step for step.

“H-hi, YN,” Wooyoung stutters.  He tries to smile, but it comes out as a rather unfortunate grimace.  The gold-plated iron necklace he wears shines unnaturally in the sunlight.

You finally reach him, annoyance littered all over your person.  “Jeong Wooyoung,” you hiss.  He stumbles back a step, but apparently forgot the table behind him.  He collapses on it, San and Seonghwa backing up from you with more awareness of the outdoor furniture.

“YN,” San greets, trying to sound like nothing was wrong.  His teeth look sharper than normal, and you remember the full moon is coming soon.  Reflexively, you glance at the ring he wears.  Nickel-plated silver with a moonstone sitting inside red jasper, a family heirloom stretching back several generations.

“Choi San,” you reply, not caring how it comes out.  You switch your focus back to Wooyoung.  He is just staring up at you with a slightly open mouth and wide eyes.  A smirk starts to grow on your face.

Before you can do anything else, Seonghwa says, “How are you?”  He winces at the question, both San and Wooyoung turning to look at him with a “What the hell are you doing?” expression on their faces.  The shape-shifter’s hair turns pink with embarrassment.

“Stop trying to distract me,” you say, smirk disappearing.  “Wooyoung needs to know that his actions have consequences.”  You can feel the silent tension in the quad, no one daring to speak.  What could the fae have done to upset a wielder?

“I’m sorry!”  Wooyoung pleads, pouting at you.  “I was in a rush!  I didn’t mean to!  You were asleep.”

You take another step closer, and you bring your thumb and forefinger to his chin to hold him in place.  Unlike you, who burns hot with fire in their veins, Wooyoung runs cool as a river, the feeling of stepping into a shadow on a hot day, just as the rest of the fair folk do.  To you, the contrast was addicting.  Your voice drops in volume, “You could have woken me up.”

The last bit of panic leaves him, and he deflates like a balloon.  His hand comes up to grip yours, slowly pulling it away from his face just to twine his hand with yours.  “You were tired last night.  Hongjoong said you spent the day working through elemental metamorphosis.”  Worry enters his eyes.  “Why didn’t you tell me?  I had to hear it from Hongjoong, not you?”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” you reply softly.  “I know you were working on the huge greenhouse project with Yeosang, and I figured that you would need all the rest you could get.  It’s not as if fae magic and plant magic are too far apart.  You needed to rest after dealing with all the concentration you had to use.”

“We’re both kind of dumb, aren’t we?”  Wooyoung asks rhetorically, a smile starting to grow on his face.  You like the way his smile curls up at the edges, as if he knew a secret and wouldn’t tell you.

“Yeah, you are,” San agrees.  He scratched behind his ear before sitting on the table.

“So all of the dramatics that were performed in the last five minutes were because of a lover’s spat?”  You and Wooyoung both glare at Seonghwa.  “Hey,” he says, holding his hands up, “I just wanted to check.”

“I’m going to kiss my boyfriend now,” you announce to your friends.  Both of them roll their eyes and groan, but turn aside slightly to give you and Wooyoung some semblance of privacy.

“Sounds good to me,” Wooyoung jokes.  He leans up as you lean down, your lips meeting in the middle.  For the first time since you woke up, you finally felt settled.

After you part, you sit down next to Wooyoung and set your head on his shoulder.  “Routine is important.”

“Yes, dear,” he says.  San and Seonghwa sit down on the opposite side of the table.

“So did you hear what happened when the werewolf walked into the astronomy tower?”  San asks.

His question is met with groans and protests that get louder as he tries to tell the punchline.  Wooyoung’s laugh when you pull water from the air and spray San with it is better than any punchline San could give.

[scribblement]

Akasha Mind Control with Dottore x GN!reader

Warnings: Implied Kidnapping, Mind Control

Summary: Dottore stumbles across you in Sumeru, and decides that he wants you to be his obedient little assistant.

It’s been a while since I last wrote anything, so I’m sorry if this isn’t the best. Also, I’ve left the ending open so you can imagine what happens next, but if enough people are interested in this story line I may continue it.

I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, but please let me know if I’ve made any mistakes.

Word Count: 2201

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI - THIS IS A SFW PIECE, BUT THIS WHOLE BLOG IS MINORS DNI

You were going through your nightly routine, shutting down your bakery, and making sure everything was in order. You were just starting to count the money from the day when you noticed something strange.

From your window you could see that your neighbors and people in Sumeru city were acting strange. They seemed to be excitedly talking amongst each other, and they were all heading in the same direction. They were all walking towards the Akademiya.

You noticed a friend of yours walking in the crowd and you went over to them, wanting to find out what was going on. Was there a celebration or meeting that you were unaware of?

You tried to speak to them but they weren’t responding, they just kept clapping and cheering, as they continued on their way. Whenever you got in front of them they just moved around you, their eyes unseeing, just looking past you.

You walked with them to the Akademiya where they eventually stopped and started excitedly talking with everyone else there, cheering and talking about some sort of hero that would be coming soon.

You didn’t understand what was going on, started going from person to person trying to find out what was happening. As you walked around you began noticing some things. Their Akasha terminals, which normally glowed a turquoise colour, seemed more green than you remembered them being. All of them seemed excited and happy, but their eyes were unseeing, looking right through you, as though you didn’t exist.

You kept going from person to person, trying to get someone to react, to speak, to move, anything. But nothing worked, they were all in their own world, and you didn’t seem to exist in it.

You were beginning to panic, what could you do? You needed help, you were right at the Akademiya, surely someone here would know what to do. With your plan in mind you began to head towards the Akademiya, determined to figure out what was happening. Then you hear someone from behind you speak

“Well now, isn’t this interesting, no Akasha?”

You freeze, the deep voice startling you, it's not a voice you had ever heard before.

You stayed frozen, just staring straight ahead into the eyes of the person in front of you, who was still excitedly chattering on about the hero of Teyvat, not even noticing what was happening in front of him.

“And who might you be?”

The voice was closer, and out of your periphery you noticed him moving, bringing his face closer to you. You flinched and turned away before you could get a look at him. He just let out a soft sound of annoyance, pulling back.

After what seemed like an eternity you found your voice.

“What is wrong with them? What’s going on? Who are you?”

“An excellent question, but I believe I asked one first, and it would be rude to just ignore someone now wouldn’t it?

You feel a hand come up to gently rest on your shoulder, a tiny amount of pressure being applied, trying to turn you around which you resisted. You let out a tiny yelp as the pressure increased and suddenly you were turned around to face the man.

He was dressed strangely to say the least, a long coat with all sorts of embellishments and feathers on the back, and a strange beak-like mask covering the top of his face.

He leaned in, the beak of his mask just inches away from your face, he tilted his head to the side, studying you, waiting for you to answer his question.

Your response was quiet, barely a whisper as you told him your name.

He nodded slightly acknowledging your answer, but seemed like he was waiting on more, after what seemed like an eternity he spoke again.

“And…” he trailed off, clearly wanting more information from you, though you weren’t sure what he wanted.

“And what?”

He smirked, straightening himself up to his full height. 

“And who are you, what are you doing here, why aren’t you wearing an Akasha, it’s quite strange for a resident of Sumeru city to not be wearing one.”

You took a moment to collect yourself before answering his questions, hoping that if you answered his, he’d tell you what was going on and then leave you alone.

“I’m no one really, I work at a bakery,” You were about to answer his other question when you paused. Why didn’t you wear the Akasha, everyone else did, and with it information was right there when you needed it, it was considered an indispensable part of Sumeru life. Before today there was nothing to indicate that there could be dangers to wearing one, other than… “The sages don’t wear them, if the people that control the Akashas don’t wear them why would I?”

You thought he might call you crazy, paranoid, delusional, or any of the great many other things people had called you when they found out you were hesitant to wear the Akasha. The last thing you had expected him to do was laugh, but that's what he did. 

You weren’t quite sure how to react to that, so you just waited for him to stop, a look of confusion on your face. Once he stopped he shook his head before speaking once again.

“My my, such a clever little thing. Only a baker, you have the makings of a proper scholar if you properly applied yourself.”

What do you say to that? You’ve spent your whole life hearing people say that you weren’t smart enough for the Akademiya, that you were paranoid for not trusting the Akasha, and now this strange man was telling you you were right the whole time. It was a bit too much to take in. Almost enough to make you forget about your questions, and why you were here.

So then, does that mean,” You stopped yourself, a bit hesitant to finish what you were about to say, but the man just gave you a not to continue, his smile steadily growing. “Does that mean the Akashas are doing this to them?”

“That is correct,” He smiled wider still, his pointed teeth showing, causing a shiver of fear to run down your spine. You hastily looked away from him as he leaned in closer, you could feel his breath on your face as he brought his mouth closer to your ear, practically whispering the rest to you. “It’s a little experiment of mine that the Sages were only too happy to assist me with, and it’s been a success, the Akashas can now deliver information directly into the subjects subconscious, allowing me to control them as I see fit.”

He stood up, taking a step back and gesturing to the cheering people around him. “Currently the people you see here are waiting for a pesky traveler to arrive, and when they do, why I imagine they won’t be able to hold back their adoration. I wonder, how do you think the traveler will react? Will they cut down the poor innocent people of Sumeru to escape, or will they simply flee like a common rat, unable to do anything.”

You had slowly been moving back as he spoke, inching back bit by bit, wanting to put as much space between you and the crazed scientist as possible. His mask covered his eyes, but you were sure if you could see them you’d see the manic gleam in them. There was clearly something wrong with him, he’s using the people of Sumeru as puppets, and the Sages are letting him. Only one thought ran through your mind as you turned to run through the crowd 

‘I need to get help’.

And with that you ran, darting between people, trying to get to the ramp to the lower level. So focused on your task to escape you didn’t even realise that the cheering had stopped, nor did you notice that many eyes were now trained on you. The hands you darted past so easily at first now sought to grab you. Gradually it became harder and harder to navigate the throngs of people, but you pushed forward, desperate to reach the ramp and flee this nightmare.

You were so close when a hand finally found purchase. Then another, and another, until many bodies were holding you in place, preventing your escape. You struggled against the hands but were ultimately unable to break free of their grasp. As you slowly ceased your struggles you heard footsteps slowly approaching you. You tried to control your breathing, willing yourself not to panic.

You kept your eyes trained on the ground as a pair of boots slowly came into view. The boots came to a gradual stop until they were directly in front of you.

“Well, what do you think? Perfect puppets, aren’t they?”

You didn’t respond, just kept your eyes trained on the ground, afraid to speak. When you didn’t respond you heard the rustling of clothes as he leaned down in front of you, bringing a hand out to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Hmm,” he smiled again as he pulled on your chin, lifting your head and forcing you to meet his gaze. It was painful, your neck twisting in an uncomfortable position because of how you were held. “Too stunned by the brilliance of my creation to speak. I understand.”

The hands holding you in place let go one by one, until he was the only one touching you. The cheering started back up again, everyone going back to what they had been doing prior to your escape attempt.

“I don’t believe I introduced myself earlier, I’m known as Il Dottore, a Harbringer from Snezhnaya. Now I can’t have you getting in the way of this very important meeting that I’m about to have, so I’m going to need you to be good and put this on for me.”

He held up an Akasha terminal, you immediately pulled back, struggling against his iron grip.

“You don’t want to? No matter, I’ll help you this one time.” He adjusted his grip and yanked your head to the side, placing the Akasha on your ear. You immediately felt it’s effect, your mind going fuzzy, all the fight leaving you. “Don’t worry though, you’re not going to play the part of the cheering crowd, you’re going to play the part of my perfect little assistant, who does everything they’re told.”

It felt strange and unnerving as the Akasha took over your mind. Your thoughts were disjointed and blurred, you could see Dottore speaking, but couldn’t hear anything. You were screaming at yourself to run but your body took the hand Dottore offered you and followed him up the steps to the Akademiya. He sat you down on a chair while he went back to what he was doing, waiting for his ‘guest of honor’.

You kept watching him until your vision gradually went black, the Akasha fully taking control.

---

When you gradually came back to consciousness you had no idea where you were or how long the Akasha had been controlling you for. You stumbled to your feet, getting out of the small bed you were in. Once you were on your feet you started moving towards the door, the vertigo from finally being in control of your own body causing you to stumble as you walked.

You looked at your surroundings, confused, everything was made of wood, and it must’ve been your imagination, but you could’ve sworn that everything was moving, swaying back and forth. When you made it to the door that you could see light coming from you realised that something was very wrong.

You slowly opened it, your nose was quickly assaulted by the smell of salt, and all you could see around you was the blue sky and the ocean.

As you stumbled further out onto the deck of the ship, trying to figure out where you were, you spotted him, hunched over a table, reading over notes of some sort, surrounded by other people wearing masks.

He must’ve felt your gaze on him as he slowly looked over to you, a smirk growing on his face.

“It would appear that we have passed out of the reach of the Dendro archon, your Akasha terminal is no longer working,” He put down what he was looking over and started to walk over to you. “It’s too bad, I quite enjoyed you being my obedient little assistant. Without the Akasha it’s certainly going to be more difficult, but I’m sure we’ll figure out something.”

He stopped in front of you, gloved hand reaching out to hold your face, bringing your gaze back to his. You trembled in his hold, your fear growing as you realised you were completely at his mercy and had an unknown length of time missing from your memories.

“Don’t worry, you’ll love Snezhnaya, it’s a bit cold, but you’ll get used to it,” He leaned down towards you, gripping your chin tighter as you flinched, trying to pull away. “I’ve told the Doctor plenty about you and he’s very excited to meet you.”

[zero00o0]

Quiet

CW: mcyt g/t, fearplay, horror elements

// Hi! This is a new blog of mine (haven’t been on tumblr in years 💀). I’ve been stalking the mcyt g/t tag for awhile and noticed the tag was kinda dying so I’m making an appearance to fan the flames lol. I hope y’all like this story! Feel free to send asks and whatever lol //

The torch in his hand flickered, the flames dancing on the end of the stick as George gingerly made his way through the cavern he’d found himself lost in. He wasn’t planning on even going into any caves today, the original plan being to find some food to stock up on. But while he was wandering in search of animals, the sight of exposed iron tempted him. One thing led to another, and now the brit was lost. A single torch, some wooden tools, and a single piece of chicken to his name.

The sound of guttural groaning startled him, causing him to whip around and pull out his sword, putting away his torch as a result. When he realized that he covered himself in thick darkness, he scrambled to get out his torch once more. His hands shook fearfully as he looked around for his light source, and his attention was taken away from the horrible, inhuman sounds getting closer, and closer. By the time George found his torch, a green, decaying face appeared with the newfound light and charged at him. It’s dead hands grabbed at him, damaging him instantly. George screamed and tried to back up, but failed to realize that there was no passage to safety behind him, but a long drop down into the heart of the cave, right into a burning pool of lava. Before he could realize this, he lost his balance. George was falling, falling, falling… And as his body finally hit the scorching, agonizing heat of the earth’s hottest liquid, he let out one last scream of plea;

“NOOOO!”

George threw his headset across the room as the “You Died” screen appeared on his computer. He grinded his teeth in annoyance as he tossed his head back and facepalmed. That was his fifth attempt at playing Minecraft Hardcore mode today. The british gamer was determined to keep a world running until he could beat the game, but at this rate it seemed that personal challenge would take him weeks.

As he leaned forward to grab his bottle of water, he could hear footsteps sounding from down the hall. A moment later there was a knock on his door. “George? Dude? Are you good in there?”

George rolled his eyes as he stood from his chair, stretching his arms as he walked to the door to let the familiar voice inside. “Yes, Sapnap. I’m fine. Just annoyed at this stupid game.” He huffed as he met his roommate’s gaze. The American who lived with him scrunched up his face as he pushed past George to enter his room. “Uuh.. ok. Yeah, come on in I guess.” He said sarcastically, stifling an annoyed groan.

Sapnap ignored George as he walked up to the Brit’s desk, his hands on his hips as he looked around at the cluttered, trash filled space. George leaned on his wall by the door, waiting on Sapnap to turn around so he could get the hint that he didn’t want him in his room right now. But the man just shook his head as he dared to pick up a crushed can of Sprite. “How long have you been in here?” Sapnap asked, revulsion dripping from his words. George just scoffed. “Why?” He asked. Sapnap turned around to finally face him.

“Dude, me and Karl moved in with you because we thought it’d be cool to, like, hangout all the time. But as soon as that first week was up it’s like we only see you max twice a week.” George crossed his arms over his chest as he looked away from Sapnap. “What is this? Some intervention?” Sapnap shrugged as he tossed the can into the trash. “Maybe… It’s just.. There’s nothing wrong with liking games, I like them too but… you really need to take a break from your computer.”

George looked at him again. Sapnap also crossed his arms over his chest as the two stood at a standstill. Sapnap was waiting on George to say something, while George was waiting on Sapnap to leave him alone. But alas, Sapnap was a stronger man than him.

George sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. “Ok, fine. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m a little chronically online… whatever. But what else is there to do? It’s autumn, and cold, and the fun things are closed.” Sapnap raised an eyebrow and smiled. George didn’t like when he smiled like that. “What if,” Sapnap crowed, “I told you there was?”

…

…

“A cabin. In the middle of nowhere. In Ohio. THIS IS YOUR IDEA OF SOMETHING FUN TO DO?!?!”

George threw his hands up over his head as Sapnap loaded the last bag into the car. The American laughed as the taller American, Karl, put a comforting hand on George’s back. “Awww come on, George! It’ll be just like camping! But with electricity, and we won’t have to sleep in a tent! And there’s plumbing!” He exclaimed, his face lit up with excitement that even George couldn’t stay mad at. But he could be annoyed with it. The brit crossed his arms as he glared at Sapnap, who was playing with the car keys. The brunette laughed as he shrugged. “Come on, George. It’s only for a week.” He chuckled.

George looked back at their Floridan home with sadness, but Karl’s stupid smile and tight half-hug ultimately had George groaning and walking towards Sapnap’s car. “Fine. But I’m riding shotgun.” He declared. “Nope! Already called it!” Karl giggled as he ran ahead of George and tussled with him for the front seat.

Whatever. Maybe Sapnap and Karl were right. Maybe this little no-internet getaway will be fun.

…

…

Even after about 14 and a half hours, George couldn’t say he was having the time of his life. Save for a few fun singing moments, pit stops, and funny stories between the men, the road trip was very long, and very tiring. Maybe it was a good thing that George sat in the back for most of the trip, because Karl got so carsick that they had to pull over on a busy highway so he could throw up. Twice.

George was napping in the backseat when he felt the car come to a stop. This wouldn’t normally make him stir, but the sound of a car door opening definitely peaked his interest enough for him to open an eye. “Wake up, George. We’re at the check-in.” Karl reached back and shook George’s shoulder gently. The Brit yawned and sat up, shrugging Karl’s hand off of him. ”Do we have to go in?” He groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Well you don’t have to, but I have to pee.” He snickered. George, not wanting to sit alone in the car, followed Karl into the old, antique-looking check-in cabin. As George looked around the outside, he realized just how isolated this place was. The trees were huge, nearly comically so. The branches and leaves were wild and thick, blocking a lot of the setting sun’s light from getting through. He was half asleep while Sapnap and Karl were talking earlier, but he’s pretty sure he heard Sapnap mention the nearest general store was a half hour drive away from their cabin.

The bell above the door let out a ring as Karl and George entered the room. It was smaller than what he expected. The lighting was dim. It didn’t help that all the windows were shut with the curtains pulled tight. There was a rack with magazines and pamphlets on one side of the room, with some seating on the other. The check-in desk was right in the middle. An elderly lady sat behind it, talking with Sapnap. She couldn’t have been younger than 70. “Hi, ma’am,” Karl began, “I was just looking for-“

“For the bathroom?” She sent him a knowing smile. “You wan’ go down that hall, second door on th’ left. I ain’t cleaned it since last week, so I hope you ain’t no germaphobe.” Karl smiled at her, nodding a thanks before heading down the hall. She turned back to Sapnap and handed him a key. “As I was sayin’, This opens th’ front door, back door, and top floor porch. Y’all got the best cabin I can offer ya. I only hope it suits y’all tropical boys nicely.” Sapnap laughed as he jingled the keys in his hand. “Thank you! I’m sure it will.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. Rich bastard. “This should be what I owe you.” The lady reached forward and counted the cash with boney fingers. She hummed after a moment and looked up at Sapnap. “You’re off by twenty.” She said. Sapnap frowned and counted the cash on the counter. Cursing under his breath, he excused himself to look for more in the car. The bell above the door ringed as he jogged to the car.

George, not wanting to initiate conversation, turned to the pamphlets and pretended to browse. A still silence filled the room for a few long moments. “Have you ever been campin’?” The lady’s voice suddenly sounded, mildly startling George. He didn’t turn to her as he replied, “No, I haven’t.” He could hear her shift in her chair. “I could tell.” The southern drawl in her voice was both comforting and odd. George stayed quiet.

Suddenly it was as if a large gust of wind came out of no where, and caused the trees from outside to shift. The sound of branches scraping against each other and leaves rustling was a loud juxtaposition to the calm quietness a mere moment before. It wouldn’t have been strange, if it weren’t for the fact that George couldn’t hear any wind. Just rustling. George turned his head to a closed window and narrowed his eyes. He waited for it to stop but it didn’t. It sounded like it was getting closer, if anything. A weird, sudden wave of overwhelming curiosity came over the brit as he walked closer to the window. The rustling got louder. George reached out to move the curtain, when a cold hand suddenly seized his wrist, and with shocking strength, held him back.

“Don’t.” The lady whispered. When George dared to look at her face he was met with eyes full of terror. The rustling from outside stopped. Her hand shook as she held onto George, her grip never loosening, as if she was holding him for comfort. After a stunned second George pulled his arm away and stood back. “What the heck is wrong with you?” He let out, surprised at his own confrontational tone. The lady just shushed him as she inched closer to the window. “It heard you arrive.”

George felt his heart sink in an impending doom type of feeling. “What are you talking about?” What could be big enough to make those noises? Bears? He didn’t think there were bears in Ohio. And even if there were, would it be such a scary event of one appearing, that the lady who lived here would react in such a way?

Her eyes remained glued to George as the two stood in uncomfortable silence. After a minute, she let out a breath. She must’ve been holding it. When George sighed, he realized he’d been as well.

“It wants me to open th’ curtains.” She stuttered, walking back behind the counter. “It wants to see you.” George’s mouth was open in a silent shock. “Listen to me, boy. No matter how loud the trees talk, no matter how much you feel watched, no matter what you see, you can never, ever go out there alone. Never. Those who go into the woods alone don’t never ever come back home the same. Do you understand me, boy?”

“I-“ George’s voice faltered. “I SAID DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, BOY?!” She shouted.

Suddenly, a door opened from down the hall, and Karl walked out. His face was pale, and if George knew Karl, then Karl had definitely been in there puking the whole time. Thanks a lot Karl. The taller man looked at the lady with confusion as he put himself between her and George. A bell ringing caused George to whip his head around to look at the opening door. Deep down he wanted to shout “Close the door!” But, not wanting to seem crazy, he bit his tongue. Sapnap paused at the door, a wad of five dollar bills in his hand as he looked at the scene before him.

“Uhh..I found twenty dollars..”

..

..

“Ok… you’re gonna have to start over. What about trees talking, now?”

George frowned at the back of Sapnap’s head as he growled in frustration. “How many times do I have to explain, guys?! The trees started rustling, so I went to open the window and she went crazy! She said there’s was something out there and it wanted to watch us.” His voice was strained as he tried to explain the best he could, but honestly he was still shaken up from the experience. Despite that, here they were, back in the car and driving towards the cabin.

Sapnap shot Karl a look of worry, but the other just looked back at George with sympathy. “Dude she was… old. She’s just some crazy old lady living alone in the woods. There probably wasn’t even any rustling! I didn’t hear-“ George cut him off. “No, no. You can say she’s crazy all you want but I heard the rustling, and I’m not crazy.” He looked at Sapnap once more. “You were literally outside, Sapnap. Tell me you heard it!” Karl looked at Sapnap now, and the driver seemed to zone out in thought for a moment, before shaking his head and replying, “I heard the wind making the leaves shake, George.” To that George fell back in the seat and stared at the top of the car. “George.. dont let some crazy old woman get you superstitious. We’re here to have fun, remember?” Karl looked back at George, waiting for a reply. “Ok. Yeah.” George muttered, clearing his throat. “You guys are probably right.” He sat up again and Karl smiled at him. The boy turned back around and began playing with the radio as he and Sapnap argued over what station to play.

George looked out the window and tuned them out with his own thoughts. He was being too paranoid. That lady lived alone for probably years, in the middle of what could’ve been the creepiest woods in the country. Of course she was out of her mind. Who wouldn’t be? He shouldn’t dwell on it.

But as the car began to lose its connection to the radio, and the silence of the woods began to pour into the car, and what little light there was left of the sunset faded.. George couldn’t help but think about what she said. The woman never said the thing…whatever it was…wasn’t trying to see them…

But that it was trying to see him.

…

…

“Holy moly! Would you look at the size of that!” Karl beamed as he shoved his head out of the window. George leaned up to look at the cabin through the front window as Sapnap rolled up into the driveway. “I told you guys I got us the best of the best.” Sapnap said, pride swelling in his tone. “Don’t get too cocky, we haven’t even seen the inside.” George said. But he had to admit that it was nice. It was a two-story wooden cabin with beautifully elegant architecture. The bright lights already on from inside the building was a comforting sight, especially since it got dark fast. Sapnap just scoffed playfully as he put the car in park and got out.

They grabbed what bags they could carry and headed inside. Sapnap unlocked the door and led them inside. George gasped and Karl all but screamed. Inside was the largest living room ever with the nicest, renovated kitchen George had seen in awhile, all underneath a beautiful glass skylight, that allowed them to see not only the second floor, but the sky as well. He didn’t expect something this nice to be in a place like this, owned by a woman like that. He could see doors that led to different rooms as well as a staircase that led upstairs to what apparently was the game room. Sapnap’s been talking about playing pool since they started this vacation.

“Alright. How about we get the rest of our bags in and head to bed? It’s late.” Karl suggested, wiping a bead of sweat off of his forehead, mumbling briefly about the heat as he dropped his bags where he stood. The other two agreed and dropped their bags as well, heading back to the car to get the rest of their things.

As they walked back to the car, George took a moment to look out into the dark surroundings. He’d never lived anywhere remote before. His whole life, even back in England, he’d lived in the city. The lights never went dark there, and he liked that. It beat going outside at night to take out the trash and not being able to see anything around you.

As he stared into the seemingly endless blackness, he couldn’t stop his mind from thinking back to the old lady. He wanted to believe she was crazy and move on, he really did, but she just seemed so… scared. All of her windows were shut and covered. Not just one, but all of them. As creepy as the woods were, they were also pleasant to look at in the day. Why would she, someone who chose to live in them, cover all the ways of seeing them unless she was truly terrified of something out there. Something watching her. George’s eyes were looking around. He felt like he didn’t have control over his wandering gaze as he scanned the edge of the trees.

He was about to turn his head away when he saw a heap of shadows rapidly retreat into the trees.

George froze. His heart stopped in his chest and his breath hitched. He fixed on the spot where the darkness was and the trees began, his eyes stuck open, fearful that if they were to close that he’d miss something. He stared at the spot with alarming stillness. What was that? Whatever it was, it was big enough to even overshadow the large trees. George gulped as he could faintly hear something. Shifting. Rustling. Like the wind was lightly blowing the branches once more, but George felt no gusts of air hit his sweaty skin. And yet…

“George! Dude! Come on, there’s only a few more bags in there.” The sound of Sapnap’s voice forced George out of his trance, and he dared to turn his head away from the trees to look at him. Sapnap gave George a questioning gaze. George glanced back at the trees momentarily. Nothing. Not even a sound. He turned back and cleared his throat. “Never been in the woods before.” He said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “It’s weird out here.” He said, forcing a smile. Sapnap and Karl already thought he was freaking out, he didn’t need to make them think it was worse. “Well you can daydream all you want after you get the last bags.” Sapnap walked back inside the cabin, following Karl. George heaved a sigh as he buried his face in his palms. He had to get himself together. He was getting too paranoid. She was just a crazy old lady.

There was nothing out there.

…

…

“Dude! Ow, don’t splash me! That water is hot, what the heck is wrong with you?!” Karl complained as he ducked for cover behind a chair as George and Sapnap laughed, trying to splash the boy with the water from the hot tub. They did invite Karl to get in, but the boy refused, opting to just sit outside and talk with them instead. He claimed it was already warm outside, but the other two called him crazy since it was literally 50°F.

It’s been three days since they arrived at the cabin. And honestly, it has been some of the best fun George has had in awhile. Despite George’s hesitance, they went out and explored the woods the first day. It was so beautiful, that not even George’s paranoia kept him from enjoying himself. And not to mention that they didn’t hear or see anything, and no rustling happened without the wind’s help. The forest was quiet, and tranquil, not even the sounds of birds or other rodents could be heard. The second day they all played pool, which George lost pitifully at. He felt annoyed, but it was all in good fun. They even made chicken (that they brought from home). It was honestly delicious, and at that point George wasn’t even thinking about the occurrence at the check-in cabin. And now here they were, the night of the third day, having the time of their lives on the second floor porch. No rustling, or scary wilderness noises to be heard. Just the comforting laughter of his best friends. George honestly felt embarrassed that he was so worked up the other day. A monster in the woods! How stupid.

“Well, what’d I tell you, George? I told you that we’d have fun!” Sapnap gloated, sitting back in the hot tub, relaxing. George rolled his eyes endearingly. “Fine, okay, you were right. I really needed to get out of my room. Thanks, Sap.” Sapnap over-exaggeratingly placed a hand on his heart and open his mouth in shock. He could hear Karl laughing softly as well. “George? Giving me a compliment? Maybe this place is haunted by the scary woods monster!” George replied by splashing him right in the face. Sapnap laughed as he spit out the water that’d gotten into his mouth.

“How are you guys still in there? It’s so hot out..” George and Sapnap looked over to Karl. He was sitting on one of the stools and was facing the two men in the hot tub. He was wearing a muscle shirt and basketball shorts. And even though the wind wasn’t blowing tonight, it was still freezing. George was about to reply with a snarky response, when Sapnap spoke over him. “Karl? Are you ok?” George glanced at Sapnap before looking back at Karl. Now that he actually took a moment to study his face.. he could tell something was wrong.

Karl’s face was red. And not just a normal red, but red red. Scarlet red. His eyes were drooping, not like he was tired but like he was forcing himself to stay conscious. He was slouching. He looked like he was on the brink of death. “I’m fine, just a little hot.” He said meagerly. At this, Sapnap hopped out of the tub and went to his side, an arm wrapped around him as he felt the boy’s forehead. “Jesus Karl! You’re scorching hot!” He exclaimed. Sapnap moved Karl from the chair, the boy only letting a weak groan of protest but not being able to resist much more by the looks of it. George was out of the tub by then, a towel around his green trunks as he hovered nearby. “George, go get my car keys. I’m taking him to the hospital.” Sapnap ordered. He didn’t have to tell George twice, the Brit was flying down the stairs and to the bar where the car keys were, running outside and starting the car.

Sapnap and Karl walked outside not a minute later, Karl using Sapnap as a support as he walked with shaky knees. As he watched them walk towards the car, he realized that the boy had probably been sick since the start of their trip, and just blamed it on car sickness. George felt a twinge of guilt for not noticing his friend’s true condition.

Sapnap and George helped Karl into the backseat and Sapnap went to get in the driver’s side. As George opened the passenger door, Sapnap stopped him. “No, George. You stay here. We’ll be back before morning.” The Brit froze at his friend’s words. He stared at him dumbfoundedly before shaking his head. “What? No! I’m not staying here alone!” Sapnap’s expression was now that of agitation. “For Christ’s sake, George. I think Karl being a million degrees and nauseous is a little more important than you’re stupid paranoia.” George flinched, and Sapnap’s face softened slightly. “We can’t leave our shit alone out here. Our credit cards are in there and our phones are in there, not to mention our clothes. The hospital is, like, an hour away. We’ll be back by the morning.” His tone was full of reassurance, but was still on edge. George opened his mouth to fire back, but the sound of Karl puking in the back seat shut him up. He shut the passenger door and stood back from the car, his arms crossing over his exposed chest as Sapnap started the car and drove off, leaving George alone.

…

…

The most logical thing to do is sleep until morning. He’ll wake up to the sound of Sapnap’s car pulling into the driveway, and be greeted by him and a better-looking Karl and he’ll laugh at how scared he was to be alone in the cabin.

And yet, here he lay, three hours later, wide awake.

He took a shower, put on his favorite grey sweatpants and his best blue sweatshirt, and immediately scurried to get into bed. He thought as long as the hall light was on, the doors were locked, and his window curtains were drawn, he’d be able to fall gracefully into sleep. Boy, was he wrong.

George turned over on his side, the blanket hugged tightly in his arms, eyes wide open. All three men had their own room, and they slept alone every night, so it wasn’t like sleeping alone was the thing scaring George. He was scared because if he heard something or, God forbid, saw something, there’d be nobody around for him to run to. The closest person to him was the old lady, and the check-in cabin was at least a 45 minute walk, and anything further than that being more than a two hour walk. He inhaled a shaky breath as his heart pounded in his chest. He was hyper focused on listening to anything that sounded from the outdoors. Thankfully, he could hear nothing.

Eventually George decided to sit up in the bed. He leaned over to the night stand and opened the drawer, looking for a book or magazine to keep him occupied. A disappointed look appeared on his face when all he was met with was a dust ball.

The Brit was going to try and go to sleep again, but thirst nagged at his dry mouth. He usually got water before bed, but tonight he was just too distracted.

As he stood up and walked to his bedroom door, he felt his body hesitate to go any further. The curtains in his room were shut, but the rest of the house had their windows wide open and ready to be looked into by any terrifying monster. He again thought of the old lady. All of her windows were blocked off, and she grew frantic at the idea of opening them, even an inch. George’s breath was shaky as he peered out of his door. It led straight to the kitchen so at least he didn’t have to make a scary walk down a dark hallway. He glanced at all the windows in the big room, and was relieved to see no inhuman monstrosities looking back.

Gingerly, George walked out into the kitchen and began looking for the cabinet with the cups. He checked all the windows again before he found a mug and walked over to the sink. He turned on the water and watched his mug fill up.

It was quiet.

The woods should be full of crickets, toads, and other activity but… it was quiet. Like mother nature was holding her breath. The only sound was the faucet running. George felt weird. Like, he was doing something wrong. Or was somewhere wrong. It was uncanny. And now that he thought of it, it felt this way in the woods the other day. Maybe he was subconsciously distracting himself with banter among his friends, but deep down…he knew something was wrong. The woods were quiet. Not in a peaceful way, but in a wrong way. Yesterday they stayed inside, but what George thought was the feeling of agitation from losing pool over and over, was starting to feel like how he felt now. Yeah, he was annoyed. But he was also ever so slightly keep his eye on the large, open windows surrounding them on every side. It was hard to describe what he was feeling. He could beat out it as something primal in him trying to take over his mind and make him run and hide in a little hole.

He realized his cup was overflowed and turned off the sink, drinking the water down as he leaned against the counter.

George’s brows furrowed. It didn’t make sense. He shouldn’t be so worked up, he shouldn’t have cold chills running down his arms and spine. He shouldn’t be working up a cold sweat, his heart shouldn’t be beating this fast, he had no reason to be scared. She was a crazy old woman. George wasn’t superstitious, he didn’t even believe in ghosts. Why, why was he so worked up? It’s like everywhere he went, something was watching him. But how? He checked every single window. The ones by the front door, the ones beside him, the grand ones to behind him. He checked every single window! There was no way, he was being watched.

George took a drink, and froze, the mug sitting by his lips. His heart stopped, his chills went still on his body, and his mind went numb.

He checked every single window, except one.

George’s body shook with anxiety. That primal feeling of raw fear filled his veins as he tilted his chin up.

The ceiling skylight.

He looked up to the glass ceiling and felt his entire existence shatter. He couldn’t conjure a though, no less a scream.

Looking back at him were two glowing green eyes, empty of light, empty of human emotion, focused on nothing but him, completely centered on every micro movement George was making. He shuddered as the thing seemed to perk up at George finally seeing it, as if it were saying, “Finally, what took you so long?”

Either it was too dark to see the rest of its features, or he didn’t look long enough, but the two green eyes was all he needed to see to get the hell out of that room.

Finally, after days, George let himself scream. He screamed with all his being, screamed so loud that he felt his vocal chords shake. He sprinted as fast as he could back to his room and slammed the door behind him. He heard the monster make a sound, it sounds like a bear growling, as he could literally feel the house shift under its weight, like it was trying to find George from the skylight.

The Brit was hyperventilating, he went for his phone but it had no service. He cursed loudly as he threw it on the bed.

Suddenly he could hear what he feared most, glass shattering. He heard it shatter and fall on the ground, and now he could hear the monster more clearly. It was animalistic sounds like he’d never heard of. Weird growling that he could only affiliate to a large bear or lion, but much deeper, much more evil.

George backed himself against the farthest wall as his body shook, literally shook, with panic. Rummaging could be heard from the other room, and George felt like being sick when he realized that it could only be the monster reaching it’s hand inside to feel around for him.

George looked around his room, trying to come up with a plan. He couldn’t hide in here, it could tear down the wall and grab him and he’d be dead.

His eyes flicked over to the largest window he had. He could run. He walked over to it and opened the curtains, peering out at the eerie darkness with a pit in his chest. It would expect him to stay in the house. If he ran, it wouldn’t expect it.

George opened the window but paused before he jumped out. He looked back at the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight. He stared out the window once more, beginning to rethink his spontaneous idea before he heard a loud thump hit against his door, and the monster make a horrible sound of knowing.

He didn’t give it a chance to tear down his wall before jumping out of the window and sprinting full force into the thick dark. Alone.

…

…

It was 4 am. The slightest hints of light were beginning to show, and George hadn’t slept a wink. Ever since he jumped out of the window, he’d been on the move. He stayed in the general vicinity of the woods edge, because the last thing he wanted was to get lost in the monster’s territory. He was exhausted,. Physically, mentally, emotionally, instinctively. He wanted to pass out, to let sleep take over, to rest. But he couldn’t.

A few hours ago he dared to look back at the cabin to find that the monster wasn’t leaning over it anymore. And ever since then, George had been making sure to never keep looking in one direction for too long.

Part of him wanted it to turn out that he was crazy, that he hallucinated the whole thing. Because ever since he jumped out of the window, he hadn’t seen it at all. Surely it would’ve been chasing him by now? If it wasn’t, then was it real at all?

But then the silence filled his ears, and that was enough to reassure him that he wasn’t alone.

It was looking for him.

George decided to stay put at the forest edge behind the cabin, where he could see the driveway incase Sapnap decided to make an appearance. He was tired, and was hyper focusing on the sounds around him.

If he just would’ve came out of his room, if he just spent more time with his friends, none of this would’ve happened. Sapnap wouldn’t have done this to try and make George socialize. Was this his punishment for being a bad friend? Was this the price to pay for being an ungrateful prick? George couldn’t help but curl up into himself. Sapnap and Karl won’t be back for hours. They won’t be back until it’s too late, and they’ll come inside and see what happened and think he went crazy. Sapnap will blame himself and Karl will too. Why did it have to turn out this way? Why him? Why?

A car could be heard in the distance.

George lifted his head from his knees and looked bewildered at the driveway. A familiar black car pulled into the long driveway, a comforting yellow light coming off of the headlights. They were home. They were home! He did it! He beat the fucking monster!

George stood, his body shaking as he balanced his exhausted body on the trees beside him. He opened his mouth to yell, but he was cut off.

The trees behind him rustled.

And the air was still.

George had his phone in his hands, and as he turned around he shined the flashlight up, and up, and up….

And two lifeless, inhuman, green eyes met the shine of his light.

George stumbled back, falling over. But what he didn’t know was that the space behind him wasn’t a safe field of open yard, but the hand of the monster, sitting in wait for George to fall right into it.

George gasped and violently writhed as fingers quickly wrapped around his form, he whined in fear as he tried with what little energy he had left to squeeze out of the cold hands that had him trapped.

And as the monster stood up, George let out one last scream of plea;

“NOOOOO!”

——————

part two? maybe 👀

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

MR. REIGNS

Prompt: Requested by nonny

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, degradation (name calling), flirting, daddy kink, sir kink, age gap

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @wickedsunfire , @akiko-tanaka , @aerynscrichton , @sassymox , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @reigns-5sos , @lustyromantic , @auawdo , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @nicolewoo , @writtingrose , @bayley-no-friends

Notes: Disclaimer - For respect purposes, I’ll be using a fictional name for Roman’s daughter on this fic. If you’d like to check out my other works, you can find them on my Masterlist

It’s finally Senior Year - and what a fucking relief that is! No more stressful and endless studying hours, no more busting our asses off for mediocre grades, no more shitty frat parties “and last - but certainly not least- no more breaking up with asshole boyfriends at said crappy parties!

I don’t like younger guys. They’re inexperienced, get flustered easily, and don’t care whatsoever about reciprocating pleasure towards their girlfriends or hookups! I like older men...there's something about them that’s just perfect. “When I first met Amber Reigns, I never imagined that I would be blessed with such an amazing best friend. That’s why I knew it was wrong to have the hots for her father, but c’mon! Have you seen the man? He’s delicious! And I’m made of flesh and blood, therefore I have my weaknesses too. And Mr. Reigns is one of my biggest weaknesses.

“Y/N” Amber peeked her head inside my dorm room “Are you ready? My dad’s waiting for us in the parking lot”

“Yeah, I got everything I need” I said while putting on my backpack

“Do you mind going to the car? I’ll be right behind you, I just need to leave some books at the library, because if I don’t they’ll fine me like twenty dollars” She rolled her eyes in annoyance

I giggled “Sure. But don’t take too long flirting with the library boy” I responded in a teasing tone

She stuck her tongue out and left.

I made my way towards the parking lot and saw him standing there, leaning sexily against his pickup truck. He was wearing an extremely tight black tank top, which did nothing but accentuate his rippling muscles and tanned skin that were on full display. The intricate patterns of his tattoo could be seen from afar, the way the black lines molded to his skin like a shield never failed to turn me on, and a pair of black joggers caressed his strong thighs beautifully. His long, black, silky hair was tied up in a tight knot at the back of his head....the man was a fucking sight for sore eyes!

“Hello, Y/N” He greeted with a smile

“Mr. Reigns” I said shyly

He grabbed my backpack and placed it in the trunk of his car “How are you?”

“I’m good, sir. How are you?”

“Better now” He winked and smirked. And I almost came in my pants

“Where’s Amber?”

“She went to the library to return some books, sir”

“Don’t I get a hug?” He smiled

I awkwardly hugged him as I felt the smell of his cologne filling up my lungs and this weird feeling of wholesomeness took over me

“Let’s get inside the car, it’s too hot out here” He laughed

Amber had invited me to spend this holiday weekend with her family, and since I wasn’t feeling much in the mood to go home, I said yes. The only thing I didn’t know was that she planned on going to Mr. Reigns’ house instead of her mom’s house. Before I could fantasize in my daydreams for too long, Amber had returned from the library and hopped into the vehicle.

“Who will be spending the weekend with us?” Amber asked as she fastened her seatbelt

“Your uncles will be coming tomorrow afternoon with your cousins. Your brother decided to go to his girlfriend’s parents, and your sister is coming over on Sunday” Mr. Reigns replied as he turned onto the highway leading to his home.

During the two hour long ride, Mr. Reigns and Amber spent most of the trip conversing animatedly, occasionally asking me a question or two to keep me from feeling too left out, but I let them mostly catch up amongst themselves.

When we got to his place it was the end of the afternoon, and Mr. Reigns went to the kitchen to cook us dinner. I took the opportunity to shower and change into some clean clothes, nothing fancy though, just a pair of yoga pants and a gray tank top. While Amber was taking one of her famously long baths, I got bored and decided to go downstairs to see what Mr. Reigns was cooking.

“Y/N, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He smirked

“Amber is taking a bath” I rolled my eyes in fake annoyance

“Oh great” He grunted, but a smile danced on his lips “That will be quick” He joked, and I laughed in response

“So when is your girlfriend coming?” I asked nonchalantly and leaned against the kitchen island as he chopped some carrots

“Girlfriend?” He chuckled “I know nothing about that”

“How is that possible?” I asked in disbelief

“I don’t need someone in my life in order to be happy, Y/N”

“I’m not saying you do, Mr. Reigns. I’m just saying I find it hard to believe that a man like you doesn’t have a girlfriend”

“And why aren’t YOU spending the holidays with your boyfriend?” He teased

“Boyfriend? I know nothing about that” I mocked

He cackled “And why not? Maybe a boy in college wants to be your boyfriend?”

“I don’t like young guys” I shrugged

“Oh really?” He scooted closer “What do you like then?”

“I like older men”

“How old?” He flirted

The vixen part of my brain woke up once I saw the fire in his eyes “Around your age”

“My age?”

I nodded

“And what does a twenty two year old little girl like you know about men my age?” He licked his lips

“Oh Mr. Reigns...I know a lot” I smirked

………………………………………………………………………………………..

We went to sleep late that night, so the next morning I didn’t even hear Amber calling for me so we could go to the grocery store. When I slowly opened the door of the guest bedroom, I heard Mr. Reigns saying:

“I’ll stay here with her and you go to the store, because God forbid if I forget to buy whatever is your addiction at the moment” He chuckled

“Dad, stop!” She giggled “You’re making me sound like a terrible person, AND it’s Twinkies, ok?”

“Again? I thought it was chocolate with nuts”

“Nope, it’s Twinkies now, and just for that, I’ll buy an extra box just to piss you off” She laughed deviously and left out the door.

When her car left towards the highway, I saw Mr. Reigns going up the stairs and coming towards my guest bedroom. I quickly went to the bathroom so I could brush my teeth.

Mr. Reigns slowly opened the door of my room as I was leaving the bathroom.

“So you’re awake?”

“I woke up when Amber was leaving”

“Why didn’t you go to the store with her?”

“Wasn’t feeling like it. Why are you in my room, Mr. Reigns?”

“I came to check on you”

“Why? Do I need someone watching over my sleep?” I laughed

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok, Y/N”

With a smirk on my lips, I said “So you had no other intentions AT ALL?”

“Would you like me to have other intentions?” He chuckled

“Who wouldn’t?”

“You know this is wrong, right?”

“If I heard it correctly, Mr. Reigns, you were the one who wanted to stay behind, and you are the one who came up here” I shrugged

“Touché” He pushed me down on the bed, and covered my body with his

“If it’s so wrong, why are you doing it, sir?”

“Because” He licked his lips “Everything that is forbidden tastes sweeter, don’t you think?”

I giggled while my hands dipped inside his white t-shirt “That’s your shitty excuse?” And chuckled “C’mon, I know you can do better than that”

He cackled “Maybe...or maybe it’s the truth” His hands pulled my satin shorts down “I’ve thought about this ever since I first saw you”

“So why did it take you so long to do something about it?”

“I wanted to make sure you felt the same” His lips brushed against mine

“We better hurry up before someone gets here”

“It takes two and a half hours to get to the store and back, baby. We’ve got plenty of time” He smirked and kissed my lips deeply.

His full lips tasted like caramel coffee, something he drank every morning without a fail. I undid his perfect bun and let his black, silky hair fall upon his shoulders as we kissed. Moaning into the kiss, I pulled his hair while I wiggled my hips, which made him groan.

“So eager” He slapped my ass “I like that. Makes me wanna fuck you even harder”

He took my wrists and locked them on top of my head while rubbing his bulge against my core.

“Please, daddy” I moaned “Please fuck my pussy”

He growled at my pleading and pulled his joggers down quickly. Roman teased my clit with his tip, sliding it up and down my folds, applying more pressure every time he hit my little nub.

“No more teasing, Mr. Reigns... Please...”

Roman smirked and slid in me with one soft thrust.

“Fuck” We moaned together

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he filled my core like nothing else. His size was beyond perfect to me and I couldn’t hold back my moans of pleasure any longer.

“That’s my good little slut, moan for the one who owns this pussy” He pulled all the way out, until just the tip was in, and then he went in again with a rough thrust

“Oh yes, Mr. Reigns. Keep going please” I moaned loudly

He gripped me by the neck and chuckled “Such a needy whore! I love seeing what I can do to you. The power I have over you...How you lose yourself while I fuck you” He slapped my ass vigorously “You’ve been waiting a long time to have me in you, haven’t you, my sweet whore?”

“Yes, sir” I panted

“Then tell me! Who’s my filthy little slut?”

“Me, daddy”

He snarled before fucking me faster “Say it!”

“I’m your filthy little slut, sir” Tears started to gather in my eyes, as I could feel overstimulation being so close

“Then cum for me, like a filthy, little, slut” He whispered in my ear, while pinching my clit.

It didn’t take him long to reach his high, and Roman quickly pulled out and spilled his seed on my mound.

He leaned down and captured my lips in a sweet kiss

“C’mon, let’s get cleaned up” Roman looked up at the clock and continued “And if we’re quick enough in the shower, we can have another round before someone gets here”

He picked me up in his arms, bridal style and whispered

“I still need to taste this pussy or else I’m gonna become a mad man” He smirked when I gasped

And ran towards the bathroom.

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated ❤️😘

[hansensgirl]

push it to the limit.

summary. | As he watches you ogle the man who would pop champagne moments before touching heaven, he puts his foot on the gas pedal and his hand on one of the levers, ready to push it to the limit. Maybe this time, you’ll finally notice him.

warnings. | Non/Dubcon, watersports, obsessive behaviour, coercion, bribery, dark themes, drinking (champagne), hate fucking, unprotected sex, rough sex, public sex, dumbification, degradation, dirty talk, humiliation, breeding kink, choking, allusions to anal, reader is really rude (so is Niki), *sexism/misogyny/paying for sex (see a/n), and more. 18+, MINORS DNI.

word count. | 8.4k

pairings. | Dark!Niki Lauda x Reader, James Hunt x Reader (it’s one-sided).

author’s note. | please enjoy, and please don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. *he talks about paying you for sex as a way to degrade you, it’s brief and in german! it does not reflect anything about me or my blog. we are pro-sex work here! it’s just fiction.

“Look! There he is!” a small voice tells you, pointing somewhere with a great distance. You’re not sure how he manages to spot his favourite racer from so far. Among the sea of heads, your younger brother sits on your shoulders. You can feel him touching you down to your bones, and you try to ignore the pain just for him. “You sure? You said that five times before, y’know,” you denote, and you hear the six-year-old groan. “Yes, I’m sure! Look, he’s drinking that nasty stuff like always,” he adds, and you realize he’s talking about James’s signature champagne.

“It’s not nasty,” you mumble under your breath, remembering the way the pleasant liquid felt and tasted against your tongue. Sticky gold is what you’d describe it as, and you recall how it stained your skin. Shaky hands are bound to tremor even more under pressure, and your friend is an absolute clutz. It’s no wonder she made such a mess, as it is one of her best traits. But a particular pair of hands that seemed to have Midas’s touch cleaned you up, and you still to this day wish you were awake to thank them. You have many regrets, but that’s just a small one.

“Can we go closer to the fence? I want to try and talk to him,” your brother politely requests, and you let out a heavy sigh. Your mouth is pressed in a line, and you begin to shift your feet. You’ve got boots made of suede, a brown colour that always seems to go best with your all-black outfits. There’s a matching jacket on you as well, and it has fur on the cuffs and collar.

“What’s the marvel of watching it in person rather than watching it on television? Out here, we struggle so much, and you can barely even watch them properly. On the television, well, you see it all, and you can be as comfortable as you want,” you wonder out loud, and the child holds onto you tightly. He squeezes your head tightly, and the ribbon in your hair begins to fall in your face. It’s white silk, with a lovely hem to it. You save it for these races your sibling always wants to go to. Your other coloured ones are left for daily excursions, and sometimes a good party, too.

“Excuse me!” you loudly call out, and other women cast you nasty glares. You’ve seen those same looks one too many times, and you don’t pay any mind to them. If they truly care about their spots, they’d stand up and fight for them. But they’re just like babies with a piece of candy in their tiny fists. Maybe a jellybean, or perhaps even a pack of those oh so enjoyable Sour Patch Kids. “Why do you like only him?” you ask, raising both your eyebrows as you get closer to the fence. “I like James and Niki!” he exclaims loudly, and you loop your fingers between the holes of the fence.

“Niki? As in Niki Lauda? That arrogant, Austrian asshole?” you question in shock, not minding your foul language at all. “Yes! The guy that Dad hates. He’s cool, and he’s fast,” he explains, rolling his eyes. “Honestly? There’s nothing cool about him. He’s just… fast. James is the cool one,” you argue, and you can hear him groaning. “You like James Hunt because he looked at you that one time,” he snaps back in annoyance, and you sigh dreamily in remembrance. “Exactly! Now I need to look for Niki, I wanna say hi to him!” your brother exclaims, and your eyes scan the entrance area for Niki Lauda.

“Don’t just say hi to him; ask him for an autograph! We can sell it to one of his fans afterwards. They’re always dying for anything of his,” you propose, and your brother simply ignores the swindling ways that you’ve inherited from your grandfather since you were a kid. It’s the reason why you tend to find purses with deep pockets and smooth zippers that don’t pinch on the inner fabric. You reach into your bag, and you grab a marker that you’ve always got with you.

The crowd gets louder and louder, almost as if you’ve got headphones on your head and you want to turn down the volume, but you keep hitting the wrong button. A woman shrieks in your left ear, and a man whoops in the other. More bodies press against you, and with the marker in between two of your digits, you hope that you don’t return home with billions of bruises. On the big screen, recaps from the previous races are being played. It’s win after win, all on behalf of Niki Lauda and his incredible luck that doesn’t seem to have any end.

You’re finally able to make out what people are screaming; the curly-haired man’s name. “Niki! I love you!” they all shout, and you wonder if any of them like James. It seems like you haven’t found your people, and maybe just for today, you’re the odd one out. “Seems like you’re not the only one that has Niki amongst their favourites,” you grumble, and your brother lets out a giggle. A few moments later, he sits up far more proper on your shoulders. The hand with the marker in it grabs onto one of his legs, and you make sure he doesn’t fall down and ends up being the true loser of this race.

“Niki! I’m your biggest fan!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, using his full voice and then some. You look over to the entrance, and you spot the brooding Austrian wrapped in red walking out with a deep frown on his face. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, but your brother doesn’t care about your deep annoyance towards his idol. Niki shoots a look over to where you’re both standing, and your brother waves his arms from side to side, trying to get the racer’s attention. Even if he doesn’t, you have a feeling that Niki will be more displeased than anything.

It only makes sense, as he always acts that way with his fans though they’re the only people who appreciate him.

His nose is upturned, and he tries to pinpoint your brother and his powerful screams. High-pitched yet so loud, it’s no wonder why his tantrums are the root for almost all household headaches. “He’s looking over here,” you tell him, and your brother nods. “Yeah, because of me! He’s going to come, and I’m going to meet him!” he squeals, somehow connecting none existent dots to fuel a form of hope that dwindles inside him. You can be mean, but you’re not cruel. So you won’t be a realist, and you’ll let the youth on your shoulders believe what he wants to think.

“And when you meet him, ask him to sign something,” you advise, not letting go of your chance to make a few hundred dollars. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s pondering whether or not he should do it. “Niki! I love you!” the woman next to you screams as if she’s using every bit of her energy to get him to notice her. Your head already starts to ache just a bit, and you wish you brought some form of a pain killer. Niki saunters over to the fence, and for some reason, you don’t feel proper behind the fence.

It’s the way he carries himself with the highest of heads, a sort of confidence dragging with his every step. He knows he can do anything right now, and everybody except you would love him for it. He could make an entire turn and not greet his fans, and they’ll laugh it off. You’ve witnessed his haughtiness, and there’s no doubt inside you that you’ll see it again. “Niki! Good luck on the race!” a person says, and the rest of the crowd laughs at them.

“Dude, he doesn’t need your luck,” someone next to them says before elbowing the poor fan’s ribs. You can hear them wince in pain before they start to scream at the racer once again. Niki raises his hands up to his chest, almost as if he’s surrendering to something. That bratty smirk of his is replaced by a cheerful smile, and while everyone adores it, you see right through the façade. “Hello, everyone!” he greets, and you already want to roll your eyes until they fall back into your skull.

Niki stands right in front of you, and you try to look somewhere other than his face. Your view darts wildly until you finally settle on looking at the exceptionally boring asphalt underneath your feet. The screaming quiets down, and you wonder if everything is okay. “Uhm, Mr. Niki Lauda? I love you! I’m such a big fan! I watch all of your races, and I try to go to them all! Can I have an autograph?” your brother gleefully expresses, and you snap your head up at his words.

Much to your dismay, you lock gazes with the man you hate most in this entire stadium. His eyes are rather dull, yet they’ve got a sort of darkness in them that makes you feel just a tad bit uneasy. Both begrudgingly and excitedly, you hand the marker to your brother, who, in turn, gives it to his idol. Niki takes it gratefully, and he raises his least dominant hand. The other fans try to reach for it, for him. But he ignores them, and he gives a high-five to your brother.

You can’t hear the sound of their palms meeting because the displeasure of the crowd drowns it all out. “What do you want me to write it on?” Niki questions, taking the cap off of the marker. “Uhm, my shirt?” he offers, stretching the red fabric towards the elder. You observe as the racer awkwardly signs his name on your brother’s clothing, and you know that your Mother is going to be more than angry. Your Father, on the other hand, will be filled with pride and excitement.

“Thank you so much!” the child squeals, and Niki simply waves his hand as if it was no big deal to him. But you know that deep down inside, he was probably a bit annoyed. “Do you want an autograph, Miss?” Niki asks, and you take note of how his demeanour has changed. His features are softer, and his eyes seem to be lit up. “Oh, uh, no, thank you. I’m waiting for James. I love him a lot,” you tell him, pushing your shoulders back in confidence. The people around you let out gasps, and they follow their sounds up with whispers that aren’t so hushed.

Niki’s face drops, and you give him your fakest smile. He stares at you, almost as if he wants to lash out and scream. Maybe even call you a name or two. “That’s alright,” he assures after a while, and you have the urge to say something snarky. He hands the marker back to your brother, who is too busy being in awe of his favourite racer to listen to you being on your worst behaviour. Niki walks off, but this time, his stride lacks his boldness. “He’s so cool!” your brother squeals, staring at the Sharpie. You sigh, knowing that you two will constantly butt heads over Niki.

“Well, I beg to disagree.”

“Niki! Is everything okay?” one of the mechanics asks, and the star nods his head mindlessly. Instead of pressing him for some sort of answer, he leaves Niki alone to mull all by himself. There is not one person who dares to talk to him before the race unless it has to do with the car or the competition itself. It’s out of pure fear because nobody likes to face the Austrian’s wrath. From screaming way too loudly to piercing, uncomfortable stares, he never knows how to properly communicate with others.

He gazes at you from just a few mere metres away. His eyes are like ice, and he hopes you can feel the coldness from where you are. He really fucking hopes you do. You’ve got that sultry look to you, and it’s not cast towards him. No, it isn’t at all, and it irks him all the way to his bones. You ogle James fucking Hunt. Of all the other inferior racers there, you choose to admire James, and Niki hates you both for that. At every single race, he’s seen you show up to, you never look at him.

You don’t acknowledge him at all. It doesn't just hurt his ego; it also breaks his heart. Your preference and love for the Englishman injure those butterflies inside Niki’s stomach, and yet they still continue to flutter. The funniest, most ironic part of everything is that the races you attend always end with Niki being the winner. Never James. But you still idolize him over the Austrian, and he’s tired of it.

“Make sure it goes fast, okay? Fast, but nothing should catch on fire or malfunction,” Niki tells his technicians, and they halt what they’re doing. “But, Sir-” one of them starts, and Niki closes his fist for them. “No,” he simply states before crossing his arms once again. Niki looks back over to you, and you’ve now got a smile on your face. He loves the sight, but he knows his adoration will turn sour in a few seconds once he follows your line of gaze. So he chooses not to, and he decides to use you as his motivation.

The racers all go to their cars, and they pull their helmets on. Some are dressed in black, some in white, and only two in red. James and Niki. Niki is surrounded by his team, and James has twice the number of people next to him. Along with mechanics are girls in short skirts with jackets similar to yours. Deep down, you wish you could switch places with one of them, but maybe it isn’t as good as it seems to be. Perhaps your spot behind the fence with your younger sibling is what’s meant for you.

Your neck is more than exhausted. Your shoulders have a unique pain to them, one that not even doctors can begin to describe. Your bones are in desperate need of a crack, and your muscles crave a lengthy stretch that’ll leave you shaking. Yet, you continue to stand there with no complaints ready to fly off your tongue. The whooping behind you is so loud, but you’ve gotten used to it. “C’mon, Niki! You can do it!” your brother cries out, clapping his hands in excitement.

Niki flashes a thumbs up, and he looks at you one last time. As he watches you ogle the man who would pop champagne moments before touching heaven, he puts his foot on the gas pedal and his hand on one of the levers, ready to push it to the limit. Maybe this time, you’ll finally notice him. Perhaps this time, you’ll realize he’s the best racer there is. He takes a deep breath, and he reassures himself that he’ll win as always.

“I have a feeling Niki is going to win this one,” the lady next to you says, and her friends nod their heads in utter agreement. You want to ask why she thinks that, but you’ve already left a bad taste in the crowd’s mouth. “Do you think Niki will win?” you ask your brother, looking up at him as best as you can. “I think so, but maybe James will surprise us!” he predicts, and you nod your head. “I hope James wins,” you whisper under your breath. Your bottom lip falls victim to your teeth, and you gnaw on it out of stress.

You keep your sights on James, and occasionally, you glance at Niki. Perhaps it’s simply just morbid curiosity that’s eating at you because there’s no way you’d just casually look at a man you despise with all your heart. As all the racers go to their designated spots in their cars, excitement fills your stomach. But it’s mixed with fear, as anything can go wrong at these tracks, and that’s the last thing you want to happen. You get lost in your thoughts, thinking about all possibilities.

Who will win? Who will get hurt? Who will get angry? Who will become sad? You ask yourself all these questions that don’t truly matter much to your life, and yet you still try to find an answer inside of you.

Suddenly, the sound of engines revving and then taking off fills your ears. Screams follow them up, and you realize that the race has started. You wait until every single car leaves your view before looking at the scoreboard. You can’t bear to watch them risk their lives while you stand not so comfortably yet safe behind a fence. “Oh my God! James is in the first place!” you squeal like a kid in a candy store, and your brother claps.

Some of the people around you cheer for James, and others for Niki. But you ignore them, and you simply focus on what the orangish-yellow neon lights say. Some names switch spots rapidly, perhaps too quickly for you to keep up with. But you stay trained on the upper two; I. HUN, II. LAU. The former stays on top for most of the race, and the latter switches with him every now and then. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” you nervously mumble, hoping that the Englishman stays on top.

“Seems like your favourite is going to win,” the known lady cleverly smirks, and you give her the side-eye. “Yes, because he’s good at what he does,” you confidently agree, hoping that you won’t have to eat your words in the next few minutes. She chuckles before shaking her head. “No wonder you don’t like Niki Lauda,” she expresses, shaking her head practically in some form of awe. “What are you talking about?” you annoyingly press, already growing tired of whatever conversation she’s trying to make.

“You’re both egotistical and full of yourselves. You do it because that’s who you are, and Niki does it for his own reasons, like pure enjoyment. It’s so obvious for you to dislike him because he’s a reflection of you, and you hate that,” she states, proud of herself for whatever reasons. “That’s dumb, and so are you. He does it because that’s who he is. I do it because I don’t like some people—such as yourself—and because I have plenty of reasons to be prideful. Not egotistical,” you snap, and she raises her hands as if she’s surrendering.

“Sure, whatever you say.”

Your mood has turned absolutely irritable, and the bitterness has claimed you entirely. You realize that you haven’t checked the places since before speaking to the lady, and you get excited. Flicking your head up, you expect to have your preferred person’s name at the very top, but instead, you see the name of the one and only Niki Lauda. I. LAU, II. HUN. “No, no, no!” you panic, watching as James stays in second place. None of the names change places at all, and you find yourself to be absolutely crushed. “Yes, yes, yes!” the crowd cheers and your face has fallen in disappointment.

Niki’s name gets announced, and everyone is absolutely elated. Everyone apart from you. Your brother celebrates the win from his high spot, and everybody jumps for joy. You stay silent, and you try your hardest to not swallow your pride. Each driver gets out of their cars slowly, and they congratulate the Austrian with smiles on their faces. You stare at him callously before you notice that James is still grinning. Despite not winning entirely, he never actually lost. So there’s no reason for you to be so dull and gloomy.

He walks off with his posse of men and women, and you realize maybe it’s time for you to head home as well. “So, your favourite won,” you say to your brother, and he giggles. “Yep! And yours lost!” he jokes, and you let out a forced giggle. “Yeah, yeah,” you brush off, making your way through the energetic body of people you strongly dislike.

Niki is engulfed in overly suffocating hugs. Some hands shake him, and some even slap him on the back, not so lightly. He doesn’t know which pairs belong to which bodies, and yet he goes with them all anyway. “You did great, Niki!” one voice praises. “Yeah, great job, Niki!” another adds. He thanks everybody in one sentence, and he pulls away once they start to mingle amongst themselves. The fantastic win of his isn’t what’s on his mind. It’s the thing that’s been etched and burned into his brain for him to think about, even though it should be appreciated now.

No. You’re what’s on Niki’s mind, and he has no intention of letting you leave.

He looks over at the swarm of heads that may have drowned you, and he can’t find you there. Not one trace of you is left behind, and his blood boils. Do you truly hate him to the point where you can’t even stay back for a few more seconds? Niki swears in Austrian under his breath, and he frustratingly walks over to the crowd. Fingers that aren’t yours reach out for him, and he ignores them all. “Have any of you seen that woman with the little boy on her shoulders?” he angrily questions, cracking his knuckles in anticipation.

His heart is still clamouring wildly in his chest, practically beating against him to be let out. “Uhm, she just left… She went that way! But I could easily replace her if you want…” a woman flirts, and Niki completely ignores her words after he gets what he wants. He leaves abruptly, and they are still yelling after him. “So eine verdammte Schlampe. Ich kann es kaum erwarten, dir eine Lektion zu erteilen, du hast darum gebettelt, seit ich dich gesehen habe,” he grumbles, walking through the crowded entrance.

Niki emerges with perseverance and even more anger than before. He searches through the sea of racing enthusiasts, and he spots you being bent over. It’s a wildly lewd position for you to be in, and Niki finds himself feeling flushed and displeased at the way you let others leer at you. He should be the only one to see you that way, nobody else. The Austrian wants to storm his way to you, to grab you and drag you somewhere more private so that he can put you in your place, but he knows the current setting isn’t right.

“Uhm, Mr. Lauda? Would you like a drink in honour of your win? It’ll be on us!” a shy waitress offers, appearing out of nowhere. He jumps in fear, but he quickly calms down. “Well…” he ponders, even though he’s not a fan of drinking after a race. In a trice, the lightbulb in his brain goes off. It shines brightly, and a clever idea starts to nag him. “Do you, uh, mind doing me a favour? I’ll even pay you extra,” he quickly prompts, and the waitress smirks. “Sure!” she agrees, carefully balancing the glasses on her tray.

“I need you to take all these glasses—maybe add some more champagne and make sure they’re really full—to that person over there,” he instructs, pointing to where you are. He watches as you wave to your family, who drives off without you. “The one with the brown jacket?” she double checks, and he nods in assurance. “Yeah, that one. Take them to her, and tell her they’re from someone who adores her and her love for champagne quite a bit,” Niki directs while trying to hold in a villain-like laugh.

“Ok! Then I just leave?” she asks, tilting her head innocently. “Yes. And don’t mention my name or anything about me at all,” he adds quickly before placing a hundred-dollar bill on the tray. The waitress slips it into her pocket before walking to where you’re standing idly. Niki watches the innocent worker make her way towards you until he realizes he should hide away before she makes a mistake.

“Excuse me, ma’am? Hi, I have something for you,” a waitress tells you, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- What? I never ordered anything, I think you have the wrong person,” you tell her, turning your back and facing elsewhere. “No! I have the right person. They said they’re someone who adores you and your love for champagne!” she gleefully clarifies, and only one person comes to mind. James. You let out an excited, eager gasp. One that can’t be rivalled by any of Niki’s fans from his win.

She hands you the two full glasses, and you can just tell that the golden liquid is of high quality. You get drunk quickly, perhaps a little too easily. But that’s never stopped you from enjoying yourself at all. “Thank you so much! Oh, and I’m sorry for being rude at first,” you softly whisper to her, and she simply waves you away. “No worries,” she reassures, and she walks off before you can finish your first glass.

Tilting your head back, you bring the first flute to your mouth and you down everything it has to offer in just a few gulps. The drink slides down your throat with such ease. It’s brut, and it has a sort of bitter yet sweet taste to it. Sighing, you smack your lips and take whatever is left of the first glass gratefully. You then switch the glasses around with shaky yet skillful hands. “Thank you, James, for being such a lovely guy,” you murmur to yourself, dragging out the last letters of each word.

The alcohol quickly settles inside you, and it starts to distort you as always. Blurry eyes and a hazy mind, you’ve turned into a drunken mess in a matter of a few seconds. You slowly sip on your second and last glass before your temptations grow tired of your sluggishness. You down the entire thing until there’s a small drop at the bottom that just won’t budge. You let out a tiny sound of amazement, and you find yourself wanting to have some more. You lick your lips, trying to search for a slight hint of the sort of melon flavour until it goes away.

“Uhm? Does anyone know where that waitress went?” you ask loudly, and those who hear you shake their heads ‘no.’ “Damn,” you frustratingly mutter, lightly stomping your foot against the concrete. You roll your head backwards, in both a stretch and a habit. Your mind feels heavy, but your bones and muscles are even more burdensome. You bring your skull back to its normal position, and you decide to go look for her. Stumbling clumsily, you walk back into the dreaded arena where everyone is still celebrating Niki Lauda’s victory.

Niki watches you amongst a crowd of fans who are trying to form some sort of discussion with him. They hound him with all kinds of questions, some about the race itself and some about the esteemed racer and his personal life. Like a hunter stalking his prey, his eyes stay trained on you until you disappear behind the red door that leads to rooms that only named people are allowed to go to. “So, what are you going to do now, Mr. Lauda? How are you going to celebrate?” one of them asks, with a sort of sultry tone to their voice that he fails to notice.

“I have plans with a friend of mine for tonight,” he briefly states before pushing through them and following you into the stadium. “Can I join?” another asks, and he simply ignores them as they call after Niki with even more curiosity. It’s not hard to spot someone in bright red overalls suddenly walking into somewhere he shouldn’t be, but it’s easy to pay no mind to him because he’s a champion and most people who see him aren’t.

“Where, where, where are you, kleine Maus?” he hauntingly calls out, and his voice echoes back. Niki can hear the sound of your shoes clicking against the ground, and he decides to follow it. He tries his hardest to calm his heart down, but it’s hard to both hold your breath and make sure you’re not nearing cardiac arrest. The racer quickens the paces of his feet, practically jogging towards you as you decide to turn around and forget about the champagne.

Your jacket slips off your shoulders as you whip your body around, and suddenly, you’re pushed against a wall. The brick is painted over with a sort of cream colour. You begin to panic as strong hands keep you from fighting your attacker. “Du bellst wohl nicht nur, kleine Maus,” he notes out loud, and you don’t understand a word of what he’s saying. The voice is familiar, though, except for the fact it’s a few octaves deeper than you last heard.

“Niki?” you question, halting your flailing fists and restless legs. “Yes, kleine Maus?” the man questions and your jaw drops in shock. “What the fuck?! Are you insane? Get off of me!” you scream loudly, and his hopes of getting you still begin to die like a flower in the wintertime. Niki grabs ahold of your wrists in his dominant hand, and he swiftly turns you around and stomps on your ankles. “Help!” you cry out, but his other hand presses your face against the wall.

“Shut up, shut the fuck up,” he orders in your ear, pushing your white ribbon out of your face. You listen to him, but you disobey his commands at the same time. Writhing around, you try to escape the claws that squeeze you tightly, and you fail miserably. “Cute. Now stop fighting me, or else I’ll hurt you so badly you wouldn’t be able to go to anyone for help,” he threatens, and you gulp thickly in fear. Your saliva tastes of alcohol still, and you regret ever coming to the race.

“Good girl. See? That wasn’t so hard. All you need to do is listen to me,” Niki instructs, talking down to you like you’re some child who doesn’t know any better. “Why?” you choke out through gritted teeth. Your cheekbones rub against the brick, and the pain is gruesome. “Because I need to put you in your place. Do you seriously think you can just mouth off to me like that? To disrespect me like that? To prefer that pathetic racer over me?” he asks, and you let out a whimper. Each of his words sinks into you like needles filled with anesthesia.

They numb your mind until you realize what’s really happening, but by then, it’s too late.

“Well, obviously, I prefer James over you! Look at you, you’re rude, and you’re a horrible, shitty person. Now get off of me!” you lash out, even though your body doesn’t move. Niki simply laughs like a maniac, and you find yourself wanting to take back your words. “Maybe I’m so rude because I like you. Like how little boys tease little girls when they have crushes. You do know what a crush is, right? Just making sure since you’re so cold-hearted. Bet you don’t know anything other than hatred,” he spits, and you’re pretty offended.

“I know what you’re talking about! I’ve had feelings for people, okay?” you bite back, and Niki becomes curious. “Really? Let me guess. James Hunt? Some old boyfriend of yours? A man at a party who cleaned you up because you don’t know how to take care of yourself?” the Austrian questions, and you don’t realize who he’s talking about until you look at his hands. They’re the same as those gracious ones, except they’re more rough and lack gentleness. “That was you?” you ask, and you’ve lost all fight in your body at the realization.

“Well, of course, kleine Maus. Someone had to watch your back, and that someone is me! Du bist nicht so klug, wie du dich selbst darstellst, ganz ehrlich. But that’s okay, it’ll be okay. It’ll be just alright now that I’m here to put you in your place,” he reassures you, and you don’t even have the energy to ask him what he means. “Look, I’m sorry, I really am. I’ve learnt my lesson now, can you let me go? I won’t tell anyone, Sir, I promise!” you plea and your words start to blur into one another.

“I don’t think you’re sorry, kleine Maus. I need to do what’s necessary because I’m fucking tired of you and your bullshit,” Niki snaps, and you whimper from the harsh tone of his words. His change in behaviour gives you whiplash, and you realize that there’s no way out of whatever he has planned for you. “So careless, so mean, so ignorant… So clumsy. I guess you aren’t as independent or as strong as you claim to be,” he whispers, and he causes tears to sting your almost empty eyes. They hurt, and they carry such maliciousness to them that you can’t help but be terrified of Niki.

A hand comes up to the waist of your jeans. They flare out at the bottom, and well, they look pretty damn good on you. But maybe a little too good because they make Niki think wild thoughts. He expertly takes the buttons out of their holes, and he unzips your rusted zipper. “P- Please, Niki,” you beg one last time, but Niki ignores you. He pulls down your pants against your protests, and he lets them get tangled with your tired feet. Your bare ass is exposed to the cool air of the arena, and goosebumps begin to rise on your skin.

“Such a lovely ass, kleine Maus. Maybe I should fuck it instead of doing what I had planned. Would you like that?” Niki politely asks, and your eyes nearly fall out of your skull. “N- No, thank you, Niki,” you shakily reject, and he nods. “You see, unlike you, I’m not so mean. So I’ll spare you, but only this once,” he cheerfully tells you, acting as if you’re supposed to start jumping up and down at his words. The closest thing to gratitude he’ll ever get from you is silence.

Niki still has a tight grip on your hands, and with your legs now immobilized from the mess by your feet, you can’t do much to save yourself. He wraps his arm around your waist, and he grabs at the crotch of your panties with no care at all. The cotton bunches up, and his fingers graze lightly against your folds. You try to ignore his touch, but he does the opposite and forces you to focus on it. He’s frozen, and you’re waiting for his next malevolent move. You can hear his heavy breathing, and he angles his digits upwards so he can touch you even more.

You press a fist against the wall, and you try to brace yourself as best as you can. Unexpectedly, a fierce pain strikes you in your hips, and it hurts more than you can describe. His hand has left you, and you can feel the air breeze against your pussy. Your panties are on the floor, ripped into a shred of fabric that no longer has any good use other than reminding you of how you could’ve avoided this entire situation. “I’ll get you better ones, don’t worry,” he reassures you in a humorous manner, and you squeeze your eyes shut in annoyance.

Instead of having your hips jut out for easy access, he pushes your torso against the wall until there’s a pressure inside your stomach. Instead of pain, it’s a sort of tingling sensation that makes your eyes bulge out in shock. “Uhm...” you hesitate, and his ears perk up. “What is it?” he frustratingly asks you, and his harsh tone snivelling. “N- Nevermind,” you mumble, and you just try to take deep breaths. “Are you ever going to shut up?” Niki questions as his other hand skillfully unzips his red overalls.

He’s wearing a simple pair of shorts and a t-shirt for the hot weather and occasional coolness. You keep quiet, not sure if you should answer him or not. Niki grumbles in another language that you don’t understand, and you realize that no matter what you do, you’ll always make him angry. Even your begging doesn’t bring you any fruits of labour. Only disappointment.

His shorts join the pile of clothing on the ground, many colours clashing that leave his eyes to be sore. Sunset pink panties, pale blue jeans, vibrant red overalls, and black shorts. It’s a fashionista’s worst nightmare. His hard cock is left in his boxers, and he’s just too impatient to fully undress. He throbs out of want and need, with a swollen tip that leaks with pre-cum. “I know this isn’t so… What’s the word you people use? ...Ah, romantic! I know this isn’t so romantic, but it’s not supposed to be. I’m the only one who’s supposed to enjoy this, not you. So I don’t care if you want to fake a smile or anything like that, all you need to do is not say anything,” he explains, and you nod your head.

“O- Okay, Niki,” you assure, and he lets out a groan that is followed by his tongue clicking against his pearly teeth. “Dumb whore,” he spits, and his hand wraps around your throat. You’re inebriated beyond belief, and you don’t realize he can crush your windpipe in a split second until he whispers in your ear. “Can’t do one thing right, can you?” he retorts. The grip he has on your wrists suddenly loosens up, but you’re too sluggish to fight him. And even if you try, you’ll end up a pathetic loser with even less honour than before.

The fat tip of his large cock presses against your mildly slick pussy. “You’re already wet for me, kleine Maus! Oh, such a whore. You say you don’t want this, yet your little cunt is telling me otherwise. Maybe you should use it to think instead of your empty brain. You’d end up in better places if you did so,” he advises, and you try to tune him out. But he’s like an alarm that just won’t stop until you do something, and yet, you’re helpless. “Ich kann es kaum erwarten, dich zu meiner Hure zu machen. Wie viel verlangen Sie? Einen Dollar? So oder so, du wirst von mir gefickt werden,” Niki snickers, and you have a feeling his words lack kindness.

But who the hell are you to worry about kindness?

Niki pushes his hips forward as his cock slowly sheathes itself inside of your tight pussy. The way you hug him makes him moan immediately, and he wonders if he’s the first you’ve ever had. “Jesus Fucking Christ, you’re so right, kleine Maus,” he groans, slowly bottoming out inside of you. You’re biting down on your wobbly bottom lip, trying your hardest to keep quiet and not let out any cries. The pain is searing. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever felt, and it ingrains itself into your mind until it’s all but an illusion. You’re practically about to be torn in half from his cock, and you’re at an impasse.

The racer curses as his balls rest against your ass, heavy and swollen. He’s deep inside you, filling you up until you’re bursting and you don’t know what to focus on; the pressure in your stomach that just seems to grow with each passing second, or the pain that leisurely turns into pleasure you’ll be addicted to? Everything is so much all at once. “Feel that, kleine Maus? Do you feel how deep inside you I am? Good, because you’ll have to get used to it,” he tells you, and you writhe around.

“So desperate already…” he whispers, watching as you can’t stand still at all. Niki’s hand leaves the base of his cock, as he thrusts his hips forward to elicit a reaction from you. He holds onto you tightly, and your body jerks from his movement. Your swollen stomach is pushed further against the wall, much to your dismay. You let out a gasp, and you try to close your legs as much as Niki will let you. He chuckles before he drags his cock backwards. His tip is the only thing inside you, and he suddenly begins to pump into you roughly. “Oh my God,” you whimper quietly, and your words are drowned out by the sound of skin against skin.

He thrusts up into you at a quick pace, one that your fingers or past lovers could never rival. It seems as though he’s fast when it comes to almost anything. “Die beste Muschi, die ich je hatte,” Niki whispers. Your pussy slickens up as he fucks you, coating him with your sticky wetness. The sight is something to behold, and his cock slips in and out of you with each thrust. “Make some pretty noises, kleine Maus. I want to hear how much of a slut you are for my cock,” he demands, and a loud moan moves past your lips without warning. It’s lewd and pornographic, yet it’s not as debauched as the sounds your wet pussy makes.

“Yeah, that’s more like it, hure,” Niki praises, and you mewl once his cock begins to touch that sweet spot of yours. It makes you go dizzy and hazy, and it also makes your legs weak. You involuntarily stop clenching your thighs together. Each thrust brings you against the wall, and you feel like you’re about to explode. Your pussy clenches down on Niki’s cock tightly, and his motions stutter. “Are you going to come already, my little slut?” he questions, slowing down his thrusts just to see you get frustrated. But the reaction you have is quite the opposite of what he wants, and he’s confused.

You let out a shaky breath that is filled with relief. You try to cross your legs together and push your ass backwards so that you’re far from the wall, even if it means that you’re closer to Niki. Your efforts don’t do much, and you want to wail in defeat. Niki observes you carefully before he shoves you back against the wall. You cry out before whispering a simple ‘please’ to him. He doesn’t realize what you’re talking about until he watches you place one of your hands on your stomach. You splay your fingers out delicately, and Niki chuckles.

The hold he has on your hips goes away, and he reaches for your hand. “Shh, it’s okay,” he reassures, and you furrow your eyebrows in both confusion and surprise. Niki pulls his cock out of you until you’re an empty, gaping mess. Suddenly, he presses down on your bladder until warmth trickles down your legs, soaking the fabric at your feet. A few tears leak from your eyes, and Niki watches as you burn up with embarrassment and shame. The pain and pressure in your abdomen go away as you finally alleviate yourself.

“Dreckig, dreckig, kleine Maus,” he degrades, and you don’t have it in you to be offended. The streams of liquid eventually come to an end, and you’re so ashamed. You press your face against the wall and wait for Niki’s next word. But he doesn’t say anything at all. Zip, zilch, nada. Instead, he pulls his hand away from your stomach and uses it to silently guide his cock back to your drooling, aching hole. “Couldn’t help yourself, I know. It’s okay, it’s not entirely your fault, liebling,” Niki tells you, even though he’s more patronizing than comforting.

“Es ist nicht deine Schuld, dass du nicht weißt, wie man etwas richtig macht. Keine Manieren, keine Höflichkeiten... Ich verstehe, dass du so bist, aber ich bin hier, um dich zu ändern. Ich bin hier, um dir beizubringen, dass du unter mir stehst und dass du nichts anderes tun solltest, als meine Hure zu sein und mich zu verehren,” he continues, and you’ve decided to give up entirely. You forehead rests on the white brick, and Niki begins to fuck you roughly once again.

He pounds against your sweet spot relentlessly, not one error in his rhythmic thrusts. “Poor little thing acts all tough until it comes down to it… And now look at you, you’re a complete mess with my cock stuffed inside this perfect pussy,” Niki grunts, leaning his body forward. His chest is right up against your back, and his chin rests on your sweaty shoulder. Your white ribbon is a tangled mess, the two ends of it twisting together and falling in your face. The silk material is no longer cooling, and the styling purpose of it has lost its touch.

The plunges of his cock are more deep than quick, and each shove of his hips sends you spiralling in pleasure. “F- Fuck,” you moan, seeing stars in your vision as your legs twitch from overwhelming gratification. “Yeah, you like that? You like the way my cock makes your pussy feel, kleine Maus?” he questions, and he further pushes his head down until his mentum digs into your skin. You wail loudly out of pain before nodding your head desperately. Niki squeezes the sides of your neck even more, but he also pushes down on your windpipe until you’re gasping for air.

You wheeze resoundingly, and the sound of you suffering for breath sends even more blood down to Niki’s pulsating cock. “Say it, tell me how much you love my cock and how much of a slut you are for me,” he demands, and you grasp at whatever’s left in your vocabulary. “I- I love your cock, Niki. I’m such a slut for you and your cock. You make me feel so good. I love your cock so much,” you pathetically mewl, and you can feel a form of tightening building up in you. Your lower abdomen burns up with searing flames, ones that trail all the way down to where you’re both connected.

You get wetter and wetter, more loud and desirous as your climax builds up. It’s like a staggering tower that reaches up to the sky and past the clouds; it has an end, but it keeps growing. “Are you going to come, kleine Maus? Are you going to come around my fat cock? I know you are. C’mon, do it,” Niki urges, and you moan his name loudly. “Do it, come on my cock right fucking now, or else I’ll make this worse for you,” he demands, and your back arches violently. You let out a gasp as your jaw goes slack. Red fills your vision, and you’re clamping down on his cock.

You moan his name loudly, and your juices coat his already sticky cock. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mewl, digging your nails into your skin as you struggle to keep quiet like he ordered you to do. Your pussy spasms wildly, and your clit throbs, desperate for a few fingers to rub it. Your legs shake just a little bit, and you find yourself meeting Niki at his every thrust, desperate to keep going. Your ass moves backwards, and his hips move forwards, and the Austrian fucks you through your orgasm. Your nerves have sparks flying from them, and every part of you is sensitive.

“You’re so pretty when you come, kleine Maus. You look just like a desperate whore,” Niki grunts, and he can feel himself inching closer to his own climax. It’s like the light at the end of a tunnel or the chequered flag that usually waits for him at the race track before he’s announced to be the winner. “I’m gonna come inside you, kleine Maus, even if you don’t want me to. I’m going to fill you up with my seed and make you all nice and round. That way, you’ll know who you belong to, and you won’t be whoring around for the James Hunt you love so much,” he whispers in your ear, and you rapidly shake your head.

No, no, no, no.

“Yes, yes, yes, kleine Maus, you’re going to take my seed because I said so. Now stop fighting me,” he moans in your ear, and his thrusts grow sloppy and lazy. Niki shallowly fucks into you, and his balls begin to tighten up. His chest rises and falls, and he can feel his high beginning to climb up to the sky. Up, up, up, and away. Niki moans out the little pet name he’s applied to you, and he entirely shoves his cock inside you until he can’t move anymore. Growling, he comes inside you without a care in the world.

The raging, red tip of his fat cock is so deep. White ropes of his seed shoot into your womb, filling you up until you’re an upset, messy cumdump. “This is all you’re good for, kleine Maus,” Niki whispers in your ear, reminding you of your so-called place that he believes you belong in. His cum drips down your inner walls and leaks past his cock, and your fluids mix with each other. Niki’s cock twitches inside of you, but he remains as hard as a rock.

“Can’t wait to see you with my baby, kleine Maus. And I can’t wait to see James’s face when he sees you with me. Er wird so schockiert sein, dass sein Gesichtsausdruck unbezahlbar sein wird,” Niki laughs wickedly, and you can’t imagine you’ll ever meet anyone as cruel or as twisted as he is. “Can you get off of me now? I want to go home, and I want to stay as far away from you as I can,” you snap in both annoyance and exhaustion. “Nu-uh,” he tuts in a disciplinary manner. “You’re not going anywhere, kleine Maus,” Niki tells you. He tilts his head up until his lips touch the skin of your ear.

“I still have to celebrate my win with you, and I’ll make sure to push you to the limit, kleine Maus.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

UWAHAHAHAHDWSDBJQJBWDJ W REQUESTS?? OPEN??

give me a hot second okay okay firs ur writing is bomb and id totally marry the hell outta it if it was a living person i can totally see how much effort u put into ur writing and i love ur character portrayals they are soo spot on goodbye im having an adrenaline rush

can i request vil and neige and malmal and riddle and lastly lilia (seperately) headcanons with a g'n reader who's just,, always really romantic unintentionally

like their love language is words of flat out love

they just look at vil/neige in the eyes and say " I would willingly spend hours of labor and no sleep just to keep you happy. " or

" you look like you were carved out of gold. "

you may decline this request if you so wish <3 gonna go request for rsa ocs on your other account kjfnksan take ur time

Go marry Miss Raven if you like my writing so much 😂 I try my best to write the boys in character, so I’m happy to hear that my efforts are appreciated!

For the future, please be clear if the relationship between Reader and the TWST boys is romantic or platonic! Just saying “[Character] WITH Reader” is vague, so I’m not sure what to do and will most likely default to platonic.

alndasdnaudsbaif Thank you for giving my side blog some love <3

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Vil has received his fair share of compliments, given the industry he works in, and the types of people he’s surrounded by (namely, Rook). Because of that, Vil’s graceful and very socially intelligent.

He accepts your words with a nod, a thank you, and a smile (it’s nothing compared to the intense thirst comments he gets on Magicam, to be honest). Why not? Vil enjoys random bursts of praise throughout the day, it helps to affirm his hard work and efforts to achieve absolute beauty.

With time, his smile fades, and makes way for a bit of annoyance instead. Vil actually pulls you aside after class one day to admonish you!

He thinks you’re taking after Rook (whom he calls a “bad influence”)... But whereas Rook knows just what to say to to get under people’s skin, you lack the self awareness to recognize the gravity of what you say.

“Repeat flowery words too many times over, and they quickly lose their meaning, their value. Then... they are nothing more than lip service,” he lightly chides you. “Select your words carefully—we wouldn’t want you accidentally barking up the wrong tree. Or rather, accidentally flirting with the wrong person. You know how combative NRC’s students are.”

“... And sometimes, short, simple words are enough to convey all of your thoughts,” Vil adds, his voice softening. His smile returns. “By all means, adore me, worship me... But an ‘I love you’ will do just fine, dear.”

Like Vil, Neige is used to being praised due to his celebrity status. He also takes to compliments pretty well, and has the social grace to keep from stumbling and blushing at your (unintentional) flirting.

Neige has an air of purity about him. He doesn’t really register the implications of your words or how they can be mistaken as flirtations, he just likes to hear people say nice things, so he’ll happily listen!

Neige is super excited to hear what you think of him!! He looks at you so attentively when you’re speaking, and you swear his eyes get a new sparkle in them with each compliment that you give. He just drinks up all the attention like an apple drinking up sunlight!

He makes really adorable little motions while he’s listening to you, like cupping his face in his hands, daintily clapping, or bouncing up and down on his toes. It makes you want to gush over him more, which of course leads to more cute motions... it’s an endless cycle.

Neige likes to get love, but he likes to give it, too! He’ll clasp your hands in his and tell you all the great things he’s noticed about you. The tables have turned! Before long, you'll find yourself as a blushing mess before the oblivious boy’s charisma and charm.

When he has to say goodbye and go to his next gig, Neige gives you a tender smile and a fond wave before departing. “My manager’s calling. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you around, okay? I’ll do my very best, so... please keep supporting me!”

Malleus keeps a generally level head. After all, it wouldn’t do if royalty like himself were to falter in the face of flirtations. He’s been in many a court, and as a result, he’s well aware of the fanciful words and flattery nobles weave to curry favor. (... But surely, that can’t possibly be your intent, can it?)

He totally misinterprets what you say... but in a very different way. Instead of taking your words to be unintentionally romantic, Malleus takes your words seriously. VERY seriously, actually.

“I would advise for you to get an adequate amount of rest for optimal functioning. Hours of hard labor and a lack of sleep...” He shakes his head sternly. “Neither will grant happiness. Not to you, and certainly not to me. I could not bear to see you in a state of distress.”

“Shall I cast a curse upon you which turns everything you touch into gold? Then everything shall be gilded, not just I.” Malleus taps his chin, still set deep in contemplation. “Ah, or perhaps a miniature gold statue of me would also suffice. Sebek owns something to that effect, so you can two can match. I believe that phenomenon is known as ‘twinning’.”

Malleus is dense about your love language, but he’s genuinely trying to be helpful and give solid advice! He wants to help you out using all the magic he has at his disposal, like some kind of dark Fairy Godmother.

It’s not until he’s alone in his own chambers, that his mind wanders, and he finds himself musing about your strange sayings. And sometimes, when he thinks about it long and hard enough... his pale cheeks will color in a pleased pink--proud of himself for having assisted.

As a Dorm Leader, Riddle holds himself to maintaining a certain level of decorum, especially in the presence of his peers. He needs to set a good example for others to follow!! ... is what he tells himself, but he loses his cool anyway.

It’s pretty easy to set Riddle off. One perfectly timed line will instantly ruin his concentration, no matter what activity he’s currently busying himself with. You can literally see the moment when his expression breaks and his face slowly changes shades until it reaches a deep carmine.

He’s not used to being praised for things outside of academic achievements and extracurriculars, so comments that appeal to his appearance or to his emotions are awkward for him to accept. Riddle gets all tongue tied trying to explain to you why he doesn’t care for those particular comments but ultimately just digs a bigger hole for himself (because isn’t he just so cute, even when he’s mad?).

Riddle will no doubt lecture you every time you let a “poorly worded phrase” come out of your mouth (yes, even if his face is already beet red). He’ll usually follow it up with a second lecture (which comes a little while after he has completely cooled off from the initial embarrassment).

“Honestly... It’s utterly nonsensical how you hand out praise like candy. Moderation is key.” Riddle sighs, ever pragmatic. “Don’t you care to stop and think about the consequences of your words? There are people out there who will misunderstand you, so you’d do well to watch what you say.”

Once he’s done giving you a piece of his mind, he’ll demand that you lower your head for him. You do, and you suddenly feel Riddle’s hand patting you. “Right, as long as you keep that in mind, we won’t have any trouble. Don’t give me cause to worry about you again, understood?”

He actively encourages you to be as loose with your words as you like. Lilia’s not going to restrain you or tell you what you can and can’t say. It’s more more fun when you’re unpredictable, and it gives him a good laugh when you get yourself into messes thanks to being oblivious to your own words.

Lilia takes it all in stride! He’s heard all kinds of strange things on his travels, so casual romanticisms and being showered with compliments are pretty ordinary happenings by comparison.

Being as old as he is, Lilia’s aware that everyone has different ways of communicating, as well as different ways of expressing their affection. It’s super easy for him to read others and the intentions behind their words and actions... but hey, he’ll play along and act all "embarrassed” about your unintentional flirting, just for the fun of it.

“Oh dear, I think I’m being swept off my feet,” he jokes, a hand to his forehead to pantomime feeling faint. “Kufufu. Like a young school boy experiencing his first taste of love... How was it? Did my phenomenal acting get your heart racing?”

He’s not conceited, but he’ll act as though he were. “Tell me what big eyes, what big ears, what big teeth I have again!” Lilia calls out, pretending to nom on your shoulder--his fangs lightly scraping the area. “All the better to see, hear, and taste you with, my dear.”

You find yourself getting flustered with how readily Lilia takes to a counterattack (except, in his case, it’s completely intentional)! It looks like this old bat is a natural charmer himself. Now, the real question is, will you be able to make it out from his wiles with your heart, or will Lilia swipe it from right under your nose?

[thefanficmonster]

Caught Red-handed

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Struggling with migraines 

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having suffered from migraines all their life, Y/N knows better than to give them much attention or let them hinder their work too much. However, their boyfriend is a lot more worried than they are and has taken it as his personal duty to ease their pain as much as he possibly can. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to get to it, write and post it, but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it! I’ve never experienced migraines nor have I known someone who has so if I’ve misrepresented or written any misinformation, anyone who catches it, feel free to let me know either in the comments or in my inbox/messages! Love, Vy ❤

The first time I got a headache was in the middle of math class in eighth grade. I remember it so distinctly because I had never before experienced such sudden and such intense pain. I got to go home early that day and spent a good portion of the day trying to sleep it off but to no avail.

Since then I’ve grown used to having to deal with a pain so strong it renders me unable to function for a whole day about two times a month. Sometimes, I even try to be stubborn with it - I try to push through as much work as I can despite the migraine, but that never works out for a long time considering it ends up crippling me in the end. That’s never kept me from trying over and over again though!

Now, to contrast my nonchalance and even annoyance with these pesky attacks, is my boyfriend Corpse’s concern over them. I’ve tried explaining to him that I’ve grown used to them and that I try not to let them bother me and that he shouldn’t stress over them so much but I may as well be talking to a wall because all he has to do is see me squint my eyes or cringe and he enters concerned-mother mode. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it to no end, I just don’t want him worrying over something so small. Also, a minor convenience: if the migraine doesn’t hinder me from tending to my tasks, Corpse will. He’ll make sure I’m off the task I’m working and transported into bed in an instant.

That’s why I’m now clenching my jaw, struggling to maintain a poker face as I work on an important project I have to send to my boss by the start of next week. I’ve got plenty of time, but I like to stay on top of my work so it doesn’t pile on top of me, you know what I’m saying. Corpse is sitting on the couch next to me, casually glancing at me every now and then while remaining quiet as to not disturb me. So far so good, he hasn’t noticed anything and, if I didn’t know any better I would sigh in relief. There’s nothing to trigger the pain to arise any further - the lights are dim, I’m staying hydrated, and I downed two painkillers in the bathroom about an hour and a half ago - so I’m sure I’ll be in the clear at least until dinner.

“Wanna watch a movie when you’re done?“ Corpse asks, “Unless you’re tired or anything...“

I flash him a grateful smile, giving his knee a squeeze of reassurance, “I’d love to, babe. But I can’t promise that I won’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know you’ve got a tendency of doing that.” Giving me a side-glance he adds, “It’s cute.”

I roll my eyes, already sensing a blush creeping up on my cheeks and neck which I hide by turning to face my laptop screen. One thing I can’t hide though is the wide grin that’s spread across my face as I mutter: “Shut up.”

Just then, a particularly sharp jolt of pain courses through my head, testing that ability to maintain a resting face. Thankfully, Corpse is turned in the opposite direction, searching for his phone, so I allow myself a brief cringe at the discomfort. 

Guess the painkillers are dying down on me, I think to myself, a second away from sighing exasperatedly at the thought that I have to down two more. It was wishful of me to think I could enjoy the luxury of a dull ache until dinner, now the migraine is straight up mocking me.

I quietly stand up from the couch and make my way to the bathroom so I can take another dose of aspirin because I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on my work for very long if it keeps hitting me with this intensity. Opening the door to the small cabinet above the sink, I automatically reach out for the bottle of pills but stop when I see a surprise.

Directly in front of the bottle stands a note written in, you guessed it, Corpse’s handwriting.

‘Already losing effect, huh? When are you thinking of coming clean?‘

Well shoot, am I that transparent?

I sheepishly exit the bathroom, walking back into the living room where Corpse greets me with the same stance as a parent greeting their kid who’s gotten home past curfew: legs crossed, arms folded over his chest, one eyebrow raised, the whole nine yards.

“Yeah, they’re already losing effect.“ I admit, a small apologetic smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks burning with an embarrassed blush. “And I wasn’t gonna tell you at all.” I hurry to add: “Please don’t be mad though.“

Corpse shifts slightly, his gaze giving me a onceover as he contemplates how to pursue the case. I’ve already got several arguments/defenses ready - the perks of working for a lawyer - but I know he’ll dismiss all of them no matter how strong they might come off as in court. Bottom line: even statements that would fly in court can’t fly with Corpse sometimes. Especially when my health and well-being are the topic of observation.

“What have we said about lying?“ He finally asks, causing me to cringe and ball my fists in guilt.

However, I still have my arguments ready: “You never asked me so I never technically lied.” One might say I have quite the audacity to plead not guilty right now, even though I’ve been caught red-handed, but what can I say, I’m stubborn in nature. And Corpse knows this, he’s just testing me for his own amusement.

“Poor excuse, Y/N.“ He says with disapproval, shaking his head and fully embracing his disappointed parent persona. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. So, as punishment for hiding the truth from me, you are to ditch that project you’ve been bugging yourself over and come cuddle and watch a movie with me. Bonus points for you if you fall asleep.“

I needn’t be told twice - not only will it wipe that look off his features but it’ll also get earn me a movie night with the additional benefit of cuddling with my boyfriend? - how could I refuse?

I can’t help it, I just gotta push my luck here and poke the bear with a stick, “If the punishments are so sweet I might start being dishonest more often.“

Corpse rolls his eyes, scooting on the couch and tapping the space he’s freed up for me, “I said I was feeling generous, don’t bet on it happening often though.”

Alright, enough luck-pushing, I should be grateful for this generosity instead. I should be using it to the max.

So, what’s stopping you from doing just that?

Good question, brain, good question.

Head still pounding just not as intensely, I slip under the thin soft comforter to find myself not only wrapped in it but also in Corpse’s arm, his warm embrace bringing me instant comfort, walking me on the tight-rope of falling asleep right away.

“Sneaky bastard.“ I attempt to mutter, yawning halfway through. 

I feel his lips on the top of my head, placing a quick and gentle kiss in my hair before he says, “You’re welcome, babe.”

Count your lucky stars, Y/N. You’ve got one of the good ones.

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[yutahoes]

All About You

pairing: nerdy! Yuta Nakamoto x rich! bratty! Y/N (I hope I made justice) other characters: Johnny as your twin brother, Taeyong as your bestfriend word count: 4.2k words genre: fluff summary: He’s supposed to teach you Math, why is he teaching you to love? warnings: cursing, Y/N has a bad temper, cheating, cringe  Some scenes are inspired from ‘It Started with a Kiss’ 

a/n: Based on this ask. I’m sorry anon, this took such a long time to write. 😭 I just feel unmotivated to write and the week had been such a whirlwind of emotions. I’ve also been so busy, it’s so crazy. 

Also, this is my thank you post for reaching another milestone of this writing blog. I never expected that I’ll past 500 followers but now, it’s in 1.5k. Thank you for following me and reading my works. Please, don’t hesitate to give me feedback even if it’s good or bad. 😅  

"Y/N!" Your eyes shoot open at the sound, groaning when you realize that it was your brother shouting. "You'll be late for school." You hid your head under the pillow to shut down the noise coming from outside the room. "Your car is towed, have you forgotten about it?" Once again, you groaned. "If you don't come down after five minutes, you'll have to take the bus." 

Once again your eyes opened, raising your head. Five minutes? How will you get ready in five minutes? Your allowance is almost gone. You needed to go to school with Johnny or you might end up taking a bus. You were wearing your school uniform when you heard a car engine and saw Johnny leaving already. "Fuck!" You whispered to yourself before taking your bag and hurriedly ran down the stairs. 

"Fuck you, Johnny Seo!" You shouted in annoyance, dragging your school bag outside the gates of your large house while taking your phone out and calling your bestfriend. "Pay for my cab fee." 

“I don’t have any money left,” Taeyong whined. “Just take the bus.” He said before hanging out that pissed you off much more. 

You groaned in annoyance before walking to the bus stop. You will get scolded for being late again if you don’t take the bus. You just wished that no one is going to see you. 

Luckily, the bus isn’t that crowded but there’s only one seat available, beside a guy who had the same uniform as yours. How annoying.

The guy was focused on answering a worksheet, his name written above. Yuta Nakamoto. You heard that name before but instead of pondering over it, you decided to shrug it. You were thankful that he’s the only person from your school who is on the same bus as you or it will be really embarrassing. Once you walked to the gate of the school, you noticed the discipline director on the gates. Shit, you thought, you forgot your necktie. This has detention written all over it. This day is so unlucky. 

A piece of fabric can be felt on your neck followed by the same male student walking before you. The discipline director saw him and scolded him for not wearing a necktie that startled you. You glanced at the necktie hanging on your neck and hastily fixed it before getting inside the campus. Your eyes meeting with the same guy you were sitting next to earlier on the bus. Yuta Nakamoto. 

You shrug while passing him. It's his fault that he's punished like this. Why would he give his necktie to you? When you arrive at your locker, you exchange the worn-out necktie with the spare you have in your locker. "Hey, did you study for our Math exam?" Taeyong greeted that made you roll your eyes. He knew you never study for anything. 

"You know everyone in school, right?" He's such a social butterfly, everyone is his friend. You handed him the necktie, "Return this to Yuta Nakamoto."

"You know Yuta?" But you didn't answer him and started walking the opposite way to your first class in English. Johnny's eyes were on you as you entered the class you shared with him, raising your middle finger as you sat down on your chair and slept on the desk. 

The bell rang. English is done. Lifelessly, you walked to the other side of the building to attend your most loathed class of all. Math. 

Everyone was busy reading notes as you sat next to Taeyong. "Did you study?" You asked and he nodded, grinning. "Just open your paper." He groaned and you gave him a glare before the teacher came in with papers in his hand. He asked everyone to keep their notes and handed out the worksheets. 

Your head was aching at all the numbers and letters on the paper. Your eyes glanced at Taeyong's paper, lightly elbowing him to show his answer. The teacher passed your table and Taeyong lightly glanced at his paper then glared at you. 

"Let me see." You whispered when the teacher passed your table. He opened his paper, lightly glancing around as you try to copy what is written. Someone called for the teacher while you were busy copying the numbers from Taeyong's paper then someone called your name. 

"Copying, Ms. Y/N?" the teacher asked that made you turn to him. "Thank you for informing me, Mr. Nakamoto." Nakamoto? You lightly glanced at the guy in glasses next to the teacher. Of course, it’s him. 

You were brought to the detention room after class. An hour of doing nothing. What’s more annoying is the fact that you were given a failing grade in Math already. There’s nothing you can do but hiss in annoyance. 

When you got home, you had an earful from your grandfather about how you’re such a disappointment to your mom and even comparing you to the perfect Johnny. “Get Y/N a personal tutor.” the older commanded your twin brother, “Maybe she’ll stop cheating in exams.” 

You were annoyed. It’s a one-time event. This is your first time copying from Taeyong since you really didn’t know about the Math exam. Why are they all acting like you’re a serious offender? This is all that guy’s fault for snitching on you. 

The next day was more annoying because you came face to face with Nakamoto Yuta, the snitch, who even had the guts to sit in front of you. “He will be your tutor,” Johnny claimed that made you wide-eyed. He’s kidding. “Grandpa already agreed to it. He said if you pass Math, you’ll get back your car.” You glared before sighing. You needed the car back, going on the bus is a hassle and Johnny isn’t even helping you at all. 

Even if you hated and wanted to ruin this guy’s life, he’s your only choice to getting what you want. 

From your usual seat, you were always transferred to sit beside Yuta as per your grandfather’s wishes. If he’s this influential in school, why are you even bothering to study? Yuta is always with you every class and you were annoyed at how he seemed like a bodyguard, making sure that you attend classes, rather than a tutor. He’s quiet, you have to give him that. Always buried in his books. You believe he doesn’t even know your name. 

That was until you pushed all his buttons. 

It’s not because you’re dumb but school is unmotivating for you so you never put in any effort into your subjects especially Math. “You got this wrong again, Y/N.” Yuta exclaimed while pointing at your answer. Wow, he knew your name. “I’ve been explaining this for hours. Are you stupid?” 

“What did you call me?” 

“Stupid,” he said while looking straight at you. “Even a second-grader would know how to multiply numbers.” You hissed before taking the paper and started answering the question properly. Yuta chuckled when you returned the paper to him, checking your answer. “You have such a bad temper.” 

“Piss me off more and you might get the worst temper ever.” You warned but he only smirked that annoyed you more. “Annoying loser!” you muttered under your breath. 

"That's the reason why you don't have any friends." He really is here to annoy you, isn't he? And you have a friend, Lee Taeyong. Pissed off, you pulled the first thing you saw from him, his glasses, then threw them on the ground before stepping on them. 

Johnny's booming voice can be heard in the library and you know, you're in deep trouble already. 

------

"You broke your tutor's glasses?" your grandfather asked, voice rising. You rolled your eyes, poking the beef on your plate before cutting it so small. “Apologize to him tomorrow.” 

You stared at him in surprise. You? Apologize? To that nerd? He started it! “I won’t, just buy him new glasses.” 

“I already did,” Johnny whispered, drinking his juice. 

“See?” You smiled cheekily, “Problem solved.” 

The older man sighed before dropping down his utensils that startled your twin brother. “You’re hopeless, Y/N.” He claimed while glaring at you. “If you don’t apologize to Mr. Nakamoto, I’ll cut off your allowance in half. And we’ll pretend that the discussion about your car didn’t happen.” What? You gasped but he only stood up, making Johnny sigh. 

“Y/N, please be nice to Yuta. He’s been through a lot.”   

-------

You have no choice but to wake up extra early and come to school with Johnny. You were napping on your desk when you felt a thud beside you. Yuta is here. “Is that really Yuta?” You overheard your classmates asked that made you curious. When you raise your head to look at him, you were startled at his shining, glassy eyes staring at you as well. Before you could say anything, a female classmate called his name. “Yuta, do you want to eat tteokbokki with us later?” 

You sighed before taking out your book, tapping a pencil on the cover. “Yeah sure,” Yuta claimed and you inwardly smile, no tutor lesson today. “Do you want to come, Y/N?” The girls were looking uncomfortable so you just shook your head, claiming that tteokbokki is disgusting which made Yuta roll his eyes. “Then I’ll just come to your place later for the tutor session.” A groan escaped your lips. What the hell? 

It was late afternoon when the maid called for you, saying that Yuta is looking for you. Johnny welcomed him and even claimed that he asked the maids to prepare the garden for the session. You were seated in front of him, looking uninterested, books sprawled in front of you as a tower of cupcakes and tea was on another table. “Your house is on another level. Must be nice living in a house like this.” 

You smirked before trying to substitute x with the equation. “It’s nice because I’m always alone.” 

“Why?” He asked, “Johnny seemed so cool. Your grandfather, I met him once, he looks kind.” 

You giggled, multiplying both sides of the equation. “I’m not like them.” You whispered. “I’m stupid and I have such a bad temper.” You focused on the numbers in front of you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Yuta whispered, putting down his pen. “That was insensitive of me to say those things and I understand why you hate me.” You lightly glance at him. What’s with the turn of events? You should be apologizing for breaking his glasses. “But I want to be your friend, Y/N.” 

“My friend?” 

“I don’t have lunch plans. Whenever Taeyong or Johnny leaves you during lunch, I want to sit beside you.” You only stared in curiosity. What is he saying? “Let’s be friends, Y/N.” He held out his hand and you saw your grandfather watching the two of you from afar with a smile on his face. Hastily, you took his hand and shook it, smiling at him. Maybe your grandfather will return your allowance to normal. 

The maid went out with a large bowl which made Yuta smile while thanking her. “I brought tteokbokki. Do you want some?” He asked but you shook your head, giving him a disgusted look. “Just try one.” He poked one tteok covered in orange sauce, showing it to you. “Just say ah.”  

How weird. But you opened your mouth to taste this almighty tteokbokki he loved. It was so chewy in your mouth, the taste of spiciness and sweetness playing in your mouth. “How was it?” 

“Disgusting.” 

You didn’t realize how lonely it is to eat alone if not for Yuta. Whenever Taeyong would eat lunch quickly because of council duties or Johnny with his radio show, Yuta would always sit beside you and offer you dessert. He would ask you if you have trouble understanding something in class when you’re seated next to each other in almost all classes you have. 

“Maybe they’re dating.” You overheard in class once, female classmates looking at you who just entered the room. “Why would Yuta reject you if not?” She was talking to a girl seated in front, touching her hair.  

Another girl came to your table. “Are you and Yuta dating?” 

What? You and Yuta? A chuckle escaped your lips. “Of course not, who would fall in love with that nerd?” You saw how the girl seated glared at you followed by a thump beside you. Yuta laid his head on the desk and the girl scrambled back to her seat just as the teacher came. You shrugged. 

During lunchtime, Taeyong immediately left for a meeting in the council. But unlike any other day, Yuta didn’t sit beside you. It was weird. He was consistent these past few days. Why would he suddenly change? But once again, you shrugged. It’s not even lonely to sit alone. 

You waited the whole afternoon for him to come to your tutor session but he's a no-show which startled you. He never misses a day even if he has part-time jobs to do. And you need him now because tomorrow is your exams in Math, the make and break of your car. 

From Taeyong, you found out that he works part-time in a coffee shop near the school. He looked startled when you came in, even ordering a lot since you'll be studying. Yuta only laughed before taking your order. 

The cake looks unappetizing after you kept poking your fork in it, annoyed at how you cannot understand the equation. Why are there letters in Math? It should just be numbers. "You're substituting it wrong," Yuta mumbled before placing his tray on the table and taking your extra pencil. He leaned closer to write on your paper but your gaze was on him. 

You've been seated next to each other but this is the first time you saw him this close. He's handsome. A boyish charm that you cannot see in anyone else. When he turned to look at you, you blinked in surprise. He's so handsome. His red lips, the high nose, his glassy eyes. "Did you get it?" 

A heavy breath followed by a shake of head, to return your focus to the equation and not the image of Yuta. "How did you get this answer?" You asked, looking at the answer which is way different than yours. Are you getting stupider? 

He sighed heavily then glanced at his wristwatch. "Wait for me. I'll just finish my shift." And you nodded. That was your goal all along. 

But instead of doing some practice exercises, you were focused on Yuta serving drinks. He looks like an invisible person in school but a really charming man outside. Whenever he looks at you, you look away from him and pretend to be busy in your workbook. Why are you so worked up because of him? This is crazy! Yuta is making you crazy. 

He's a nerd. He's annoying. He's such a know-it-all. "Yuta doesn't like you, Y/N." you whispered to yourself then gasped when you realized you said it out loud. To your annoyance, Yuta just passed by your side with an empty tray. Did he hear that? You hope not. 

It was the fifth equation when Yuta sat in front of you, yawning and stretching his arms. He was done with the job and had some break before he had to go to the gas station for his second part-time job. "You have a lot of jobs." You claimed while he checked your work. "Do you need that much money?" 

"I have to pay for my tuition." 

"Why would you go to a private academy if you can't even pay for it?" 

Yuta put down your workbook, showing the mistakes and where you missed the question. "My parents met in that academy so it means a lot to my mom for me to graduate in the same alma mater as her." They did? Then Yuta might be rich. "My dad is filthy rich. She got pregnant but his parents don't want the child. My mom left him." 

"That's just tragic."

Yuta smiled. "You know, it’s the typical rich boy - poor girl love story. It will just end that way." You glanced at him before pursing your lips. "Just try finishing three questions. It's the exams tomorrow, you need rest." Once again, he yawned. "And I have to walk you back home."

You stopped after one equation seeing how he almost fell asleep while waiting for you. He might be tired and you don't want him to be late for the next job. You promised you'll do the remaining exercises at home and show him tomorrow then hailed a cab so he won't have to walk you home. Just to be sure, you promised to message him when you arrive home. 

But you never did. Never messaged him, never answered the remaining problems. All that's running in your mind is him. Yuta Nakamoto. He's not bad yet he's not great either. But something about him is piquing your curiosity. Something about him makes you want to be closer to him. 

"Aish!" you shouted. You should be studying. 

--------

You were surprised when the girls were left inside the room and the guys were brought outside for the test. You cannot copy from Yuta. Maybe it was your grandfather’s plan. Surprisingly, the questions aren’t as hard as you thought they would be. Or maybe you just got smarter. The studying to distract your mind from thinking about Yuta has paid off. 

Taeyong sighed heavily while seated in front of you during lunch. “I think I’ll fail the exams.” You glance at him in surprise. Do you have a different question as him? You asked him the first question which you remember clearly and you had a debate on what the right answer is. When you showed him the solution, Taeyong just whined in defeat. “Wow, you’re teaching me Math now.” he claimed before tapping his chin. “Should I get Yuta as a tutor as well?” 

“You can’t.” You raised your voice at him. “Yuta is mine.” 

Taeyong snickered. “Speaking of him, did you know that he was sleeping while taking the exam?” That took your attention. “I don’t even know if he finished the questions. He’s just out of it.” Now, you’re worried. What happened to him? Why did he just sleep when he’s taking exams? 

“How were the exams?” Yuta asked when you met in the library but you only stared at him. “Is it hard?” 

You shook your head. “Did you finish your exam?” He chuckled while nodding, asking if it was Taeyong who told you. “You finished everything?” 

Again, he nodded. “Don’t worry. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” You asked him why but he just smiled. “The exams are now done. We’ll just have to wait if you pass to get your car back.” 

You nodded. “You want a ride?” 

Yuta shook his head, smiling at you. “I’ll have to resign as your tutor, Y/N.” You stared at him in surprise. Wait, why? “I’ll have to take a new job…”

“My grandfather can pay you.” But Yuta shook his head. “Why do you need that much money anyway? Are you dating someone?” He smirked before leaning his back on the chair. He didn’t say anything but the smile in his eyes was enough proof to know that he is indeed dating someone. 

Nakamoto Yuta? The nerd? Someone actually had the nerve to ask him out? Someone actually raced you to ask him out. 

You passed by the tteokbokki shop and ordered some of Yuta’s favorite food. It does taste weird, but addicting. You poked one tteok and put it in your mouth, munching on it with a lot of annoyance. Why doesn’t it taste good now? It tastes good when Yuta was feeding you one. You just wasted money on this food. 

You were annoyed. At Yuta. At this girl. He seemed friendly with everyone, it’s annoying. You sat beside Taeyong in class which surprised your friend. “You broke up with Yuta?” he teased that made you roll your eyes. “I thought he’s yours.” You stepped on his foot, earning a yelp from him which made the whole class look at the two of you, even Yuta. 

When the results came out, you rushed to see if Yuta is still the first-rank student. You were worried the whole time when you found out he slept in class. What if he lost the top rank? He lost his scholarship? You grasped your hands together, wishing that he’ll remain in his spot. When you opened your eyes, in front of the rank one student, you beamed at the sight of his name. Yuta Nakamoto. 

He’s still the rank one even if he slept during the exams. Yuta is really amazing. 

Your phone rang and you answered it without even looking at the caller ID, “Where are you?” Yuta. “Did you see your rank?” Wait, what? “I don’t think your grandfather…” A crowd of students came and you almost lost your balance if not for someone who caught you. Him. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” you called then glanced at your phone. You were just talking to each other. “My rank?” 

He smiled. “Twelfth.” You almost ran to the part of the bulletin board that has the top 10-20 rank list. On the twelfth rank is your name, three spots higher than your twin brother and seven spots higher than your bestfriend. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to hug the grinning Yuta. “You did it, Y/N.” He whispered against your ear, “I’m proud of you.”  

You lightly glanced at him. The first person who told you that he’s proud of you. Now, you had an answer to yourself on why Yuta is someone you cannot shake off. He is the first person who believed in you. 

“I’ll treat you to tteokbokki.” Yuta glanced at you in surprise before you took his hand. 

The old woman greeted you and Yuta was surprised when you greeted her back. “We should eat something you like. I’ll treat you.” But you shook your head, licking the sauce from your fingers. “When did you start eating tteokbokki?” 

You shrugged then dipped the tteok to the red sauce. “Why were you on the first bulletin board? Do you think you’ll get the top rank?” A light kick from you under the table made him wince. 

“I thought you might lose your scholarship.” You claimed before eating tteokbokki again. "You were distracted during the exam so I was worried." He stared at you in surprise before smiling. "Shouldn't you stop all these part-time jobs if you want to keep your scholarship?" 

"I lost the gas station gig," he confessed, poking his fork on the tteokbokki. "I'm worried that you didn't come home that night so I skipped work. Johnny told me that you did when I came to your house but I can't sleep that night." 

That night? You were thinking about him that night. "Eomma said someone might be thinking about me." Shit! "But I guess I'm just worried about you." He's what? "But don't mind it." He shrugged before eating the tteokbokki. 

"You were worried?" 

He rolled his eyes, looking at you deadpan. "Of course. What if you fail your exam? Your grandfather's payment will all go to waste." You just munched on the tteokbokki, chewing loudly. "You're enjoying the tteokbokki so much. I thought it's disgusting." 

You shook your head, stuffing your mouth with the chewy tteok. "When did I say that?" 

Yuta chuckled, wiping your sauce-clad finger with tissue. "You're really charming, aren't you?" You rolled your eyes. Why is he shaking you like this? He's already dating another girl. "Just let me save a little more money before asking you out on a date, hmm?" 

What? You choke on the chewy rice cake, coughing at his statement. Ask you out on a date? "I don't want us to be like my parents' story so I need to work hard to at least reach halfway to your world." He munched on the tteokbokki but your eyes remained on him. "Please wait for me before I can take you out officially." 

Is that why he resigned as your tutor? How did this turn into this? "How are you so sure that I'll wait for you?" 

"You said so yourself, I'm yours." He chuckled and you mentally killed Lee Taeyong. "And I do like you." Shit! He did heard you back in the coffee shop. This is so embarrassing. "Even if you don't like me romantically, just let me take you out on one date." 

"Sure." You claimed, "Since you sound so desperate and I'm such a nice girl to reject you." 

Yuta chuckled. "Of course you are." 

“Yuta.”

“Hmm?”

“Treat me to ice cream after this.”

The guy nodded that made you smirk to yourself. This nerd isn’t so bad at all.  

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter One}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara's blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby's Masterlist

Tara's Masterlist

5 years later….

Nyx looked at his birthday cake and the lone candle that was lit atop the icing before looking up at Feyre with a confused expression on his beautiful, little face.

His mother laughed, quietly, before leaning forward and taking out the candle. She had just blown out the flame when Rhys barely pushed the cake closer to Nyx, who put his chubby, little hands smack-dab in the middle of the icing and dug in.

Everyone had come to celebrate, and even Nesta couldn’t stop her smile from showing. At least, she let it show when she was on the opposite end of the house from the one and only, and massively self-centered, Cassian Nazari.

Of course, he would be at Nyx’s first birthday party. He was Nyx’s uncle - maybe not by blood, not that blood mattered when it came to Cassian, Rhysand, and their other lifelong friend, Azriel.

He, too, stood across the kitchen, watching as Elain snapped picture after picture of the jubilant baby, the mess atop his high chair the largest Nesta had ever seen. She knew Elain was taking notes for their own daughter’s birthday party, though she was barely three months old.

Rhysand’s smile was as big as Feyre’s as they watched their son, listening as his giggles filled the kitchen. Nyx realized quickly that the cake was for him alone and after smashing it for a few moments, he lifted a large handful to his chubby face and took a bite. His eyes lit up and that started the giggling anew.

Nesta loved her nephew and niece, had loved him since the day they were born, but she didn’t envy her sisters and their happy families. Unlike them, she had remained perfectly content on her own, especially after the endless string of disaster dates she had been forced to sit through throughout the years.

And children? It wasn’t that Nesta disliked kids. Not all kids, at least. She loved her nephew and niece, anyway. Having one of her own, though? Having to be around one every day? Every night? Having to constantly try and make a tiny person content?

No, thank you. That was a challenge she had little interest in.

A deep rumbling laugh came from across the house and Nesta looked up to find Cassian entering the kitchen, still chuckling at something Mor had said.

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep her lip from curling slightly as she looked at him. It only infuriated her more when he caught sight of her as he raised his beer to his lips and winked.

He was absolutely insufferable.

After their catastrophe of a date years ago, which Nesta had made Feyre promise was a stunt she’d never pull again, she had only been forced to be around Cassian Nazari a handful of times.

One of which was during Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding, only months after their date.

“You only have to walk with him for thirty seconds,” Feyre had sighed, while Mor continued to pin and curl her hair into place. “You don’t have to be happy about it.”

“Good,” Nesta said, draining the glass of champagne in her hand. “Because I’m not.”

As Feyre’s maid-of-honor, it was customary that she was supposed to walk out of the wedding arm in arm with Rhysand’s best man. She wished that he’d picked Azriel, but since it seemed the Cauldron hated her, it had to be Cassian.

Elain, who was harboring the world’s most obvious crush on Azriel at the time, was thrilled with how they’d be exiting the wedding. Nevertheless, she said to Nesta, “I think you two got off on the wrong foot. He’s a really good guy, Nes.”

Nesta shot her youngest sister a look of pure annoyance through the mirror’s reflection. “Have any of you ever been on a date with the guy? And not only a date, but the worst date of your life?”

Feyre snorted, fully aware of where this conversation was headed. “No.”

“Then you have no room to talk,” Nesta snapped, admiring herself in the mirror. “Mother’s tits, Feyre, he wore jeans to the nicest restaurant in Velaris!”

“At least he didn’t wear his boots,” Mor muttered, then she caught Nesta’s glare in the mirror. “Really? He wore his boots?”

“He was dressed for an all-night, summer bonfire,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “And he’s completely full of himself. And, he forgot his wallet!”

“Not like you can’t afford dinner,” Feyre said, and Nesta’s lips snapped shut. She was fully aware that the conversation had somehow become a let’s-pick-on-Nesta session.

Feyre added, “You have to walk back down the aisle with him, share an entire table during dinner, and that’s it. No one is asking you to dance with him, but be nice.” Nesta met Feyre’s eyes, her jaw set. Feyre sighed, “Fine, be civil.”

She scoffed, but nodded. “Fine.”

The ceremony itself went off without a hitch. It was beautiful and elegant and the perfect wedding Rhys and Feyre had always wanted.

She ignored Cassian’s unending looks the whole night, managed to give her maid-of-honor speech without snarling at him, and after that, took advantage of the open bar her sister and new brother had so kindly provided.

She was coming out of the bathroom, a glass of wine still clutched in her hand, doing her best not to trip over her own feet when she walked into a wall.

A wall of solid muscle that turned out to be Cassian’s back.

When he turned around and she looked up at him, his eyes were nearly as glazed as hers.

“Hello, Nes,” he said, smirking down at her.

She bit out, “Don’t call me that.”

“That was a pretty, little speech you gave,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I know true love exists cause I’ve seen it first hand. Poetic.”

Nesta scoffed, brushing off the skirt of her dress as if he had tainted it. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t referring to you. I was talking about Feyre and Rhys, in case you thought otherwise.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” he promised. “Honestly, I didn’t think you were talking about anyone. Just some fluffy shit that sounded sweet. Unless it’s that guy that showed up at the restaurant and ruined our date. Oh, wait,” he began, tapping his chin as if in deep thought, “You dumped him though, right? Poor bastard.”

“You’re a prick,” Nesta bit out. She refrained from saying that Tomas hadn’t ruined their date. It was sad that seeing her ex was one the bright points of her night, rather than seeing the Greek god standing before her. The pretentious, cocky asshole of a Greek god.

He only grinned. “But am I a liar?”

Nesta’s jaw locked. She eyed his tux. “I’m just glad you decided to clean up for your own brother’s wedding. No jeans?”

He scoffed. “Is that the worst you’ve got?”

“Do you prefer me to give you my worst?” she asked, brows furrowing. “If so, you may want to be careful what you wish for.”

Cassian said nothing, just lifted the beer she hadn’t noticed in his hands to his lips.

Nesta rolled her eyes, brushing past him, and made a move to head back into the reception.

His voice called out behind her, “You don’t have to be such a miserable bitch, you know?”

She froze, looking back at him. He was no longer smirking at her. Instead, his eyes were intense. “Excuse you?”

“You’re so miserable that you won’t allow anyone else to have any fun, won’t allow yourself to either,” he said, still leaning against that damn wall. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest, his dress shirt tight and loose in all the right places. “You want everyone else to suffer, just because you’re forcing yourself to, for whatever reason.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” she bit out, stalking back over to him. She was so close she had to look up into his face.

“I don’t,” he said, words clipped. “I tried, but you didn’t seem very inclined to let me get to know you during our date. You were more concerned with my attire and your ex than you were with me. You thought all I wanted to do was fuck you.” His eyes, still glassy and glazed, dragged down her body and back up again. “Besides, you’ve got that damn stick shoved so far up your ass, there wouldn’t have been room for my cock even if I’d really even tried.”

A blink was Nesta’s only reaction. Then her hand was moving of its own accord, splashing her full glass of wine directly in his face and all over that pretty, white shirt.

“Go fuck yourself,” was all she’d said before she walked back into the ceremony, leaving him there to drip on the venue’s fancy carpet.

“Nesta!”

She blinked, Feyre’s voice drawing Nesta out of her memories, looking over at her sister. She stood next to Rhys and Elain, who had her camera in her hands, and Cassian stood behind Nyx’s high chair.

“I want a picture of him with his godparents, come here,” she beamed and Nesta tried not to cringe.

She had been so proud, her heart feeling like it would burst when Feyre and Rhys had asked her to be Nyx’s godmother. There was no hesitation when she said yes, tears lining her eyes as she’d hugged both her sister and brother-in-law.

She tried not to think about the fact that when they’d told her Cassian was his godfather, she nearly asked them to give the distinction to Elain.

But she hadn’t, wouldn’t. Despite what others, especially Cassian, thought of her… Nesta loved her nephew.

She loved her family.

With a sigh, Nesta meandered over to Nyx’s high chair. “Alright.”

“Closer,” Feyre ordered, gesturing Nesta to move in closer beside Cassian behind the high chair.

Nesta’s lips pursed but she took another step toward the boys for her sister’s sake.

“I’m not poisonous, Nesta,” Cassian muttered, smiling at the camera as he spoke. “You won’t burst into flames if we brush arms.”

“You’d be so lucky to brush arms with me,” she muttered back, hoping the smile she was giving her sister was convincing - and knowing full well that it wasn’t.

Without another word, Cassian tossed his arm around Nesta and said, “Cheeeeese!”

Nyx was giggling, looking up at his godparents behind him. There was so much joy and adoration in those big, beautiful eyes that Nesta didn’t have the heart to storm off, leaving Cassian in her dust, no matter how much she wanted to.

The camera’s flash went off and Nesta pushed Cassian’s arm off her shoulder.

The rest of the party was perfect. Feyre took Nyx up to the bathroom to clean him off, while Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian hauled his many gifts out into the living room. Feyre opened them one by one, despite everyone knowing Nyx had no clue what was going on, though he did clap his chubby little hands and giggle at a few particular items. Nesta stood off to the side with Elain, holding a milk-drunk, sleepy Seph in her arms.

Azriel and Elain’s little girl had been a surprise, neither of them planning on Elain getting pregnant so soon after they got married. They both fell into the role of parents so seamlessly though, that Nesta knew another baby would be in their near future. They adored the baby girl, and she was the most perfect baby Nesta had ever seen.

Persephone hardly cried, only doing so when she was hungry or needed to be changed, and once whatever wrong was taken care of, she became a happy, smiley baby again.

Nyx, on the other hand, had been a hellion as a baby.

Which was to be expected, considering who his father was. Although responsible when necessary, Rhysand was just as much of a madman as Cassian...especially when infused with alcohol.

“You look good with a baby,” Elain crooned from beside her sister.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “You can keep trying to push me down the marriage-baby road, but I just won’t take it. Wasting your time.”

Elain sighed, dramatically, with that little grin remaining on her soft pink lips. “As long as you stay such a good auntie, I suppose I can’t complain.”

Nesta looked down at the sweet, sleeping infant in her arms. She didn’t mind those little snuggles.

She did mind the diaper blowouts, constant spit-ups, and loud crying, though. That’s usually when she gave Seph back to her parents and blissfully enjoyed her independent life.

Feyre gasped and Nesta looked up. She was holding a little guitar that had Nyx’s name and the night sky engraved into the dark-stained wood.

Nesta’s eyes snapped to Cassian.

Cassian smiled, fondly, at Feyre. “I know he won’t be able to start messing with it for another few years, but I couldn't help myself.”

“He made that himself, you know.” Nesta’s eyes shot to Elain, who was watching the scene before them. She whispered again, “He doesn’t do it for a living, of course, but it’s a hobby of his, making guitars. He’s really good.”

She blinked, the information catching her off guard for whatever reason. But all she said was, “That’s nice.”

She spent the rest of the afternoon, ignoring the man as much as she could, as she always did. But as the guests began to dwindle, as Nyx and Seph went down for their naps, the three sisters gathered in the living room, while Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian went out back to inspect the small jungle gym Rhys was building for Nyx. Again, he was too young to use most of it, but the tiny swing and slide would be hours of fun for the little man.

Feyre brought two cups of coffee out to her sisters before collapsing next to Elain on the couch. “That could not have gone better if we tried.”

Nesta leveled her a look and raised an eyebrow.. “If we tried? You had a minute-by-minute itinerary for a one-year-old’s birthday.”

“Everything was perfect,” Elain smiled, cutting off Nesta, blowing on her coffee gently. “Nyx had a good time, neither he nor Seph had a blow-up, Cassian and Nesta managed to be in the same room without stabbing each other. All in all, a good day.”

Nesta rolled her eyes before throwing a vulgar gesture towards her sisters, who were both laughing.

“Fine, new subject,” Feyre grinned. “Oh! Before I forget, Rhys and I are going out of town for our anniversary in a few weeks. I was hoping you could watch Nyx for a few days.”

It took Nesta a moment to realize that Feyre was talking to her. She froze, having been blowing on her own hot coffee. “I’m sorry, what?”

Feyre laughed, quietly. “I was hoping that you could watch Nyx while Rhys and I go away for a long weekend. We’re going to the mountains for our anniversary. To his family’s cabin.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” Elain said, looking at Nesta.

Who blinked, having only unfrozen to set her coffee down on the table between them. “You want me…to watch Nyx…for the weekend? Alone? By myself? Just me and him?”

“That’s what I was hoping for, yeah,” Feyre said, nodding as she sipped from her cup. “You can come here, where all of his stuff is in one place, and make yourself at home.” She shrugged. “I’ll leave money for takeout and the key to the wine cabinet.”

Nesta hesitated. “I’ve only babysat Nyx a couple of times…all for, like, an hour each.”

“It will be fine,” she said, a genuine smile on her face. “It will only be three nights, really. We’ll leave after work on Thursday and be home Sunday evening.”

Nesta stammered and shook her head. “I have to work on Friday, the restaurant-.”

“I’ll keep him during the day on Friday,” Elain offered. “I don’t have any shoots that day, so he can spend the day with me and Seph.”

“You could keep him the whole weekend,” Nesta tried, looking at her younger sister hopefully.

“Seph is enough of a handful,” she chuckled, glancing at Feyre, who was nodding as well. “I don’t think I can handle two at once for an entire weekend.”

“Please, Nes,” Feyre said, drawing her eldest sister’s eyes to her. “I know you can do it and it would be nice for you to spend some time together, just you two.”

“And you can call me, if you need anything,” Elain added.

Nesta looked from Feyre to Elain. “You two already planned this.” They at least had the wherewithal to look guilty. She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Fine. But I’ll probably end up calling both of you every thirty seconds.”

“I can work with that,” Feyre said, just as Elain said, “Then it’s settled!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nesta snorted, shaking her head. “But, I hope you know that I wouldn’t do this for anybody else.”

“Oh, I know,” Feyre grinned, “which is what makes you such a wonderful, wonderful big sister.”

“I am pretty damn wonderful,” Nesta agreed, grinning as she sipped from her mug.

As she drank, she peeked out the window, where the boys were putting together the playset. Once she did, only one thing caught her eye.

Cassian was already watching her.

And when he caught her gaze, that stupid little, cocky-ass grin appeared.

She hated that grin, hated it with every ounce of her being.

And she wouldn’t feel bad for it, no matter how much her sisters adored the guy.

She hated him, hated Cassian Nazari.

And she always would.

[dreamkidddream]

Hi I love love LOVE your blog would you maybe do all the obey me brothers x reader yandere wise?

Hi anon! Thank you for the love I really appreciate it!! I know I sound like a broken record, but I was so nervous to start this blog and I’m so happy that people are enjoying my writings. So this request was kinda vague (and it’s my first yandere request!), so I’m assuming you mean general headcannons being in a relationship with the brothers (separately) being yandere. If I’m wrong, just send in the request again with some more details and I’ll be happy to redo it. Reader is gender neutral and I hope you enjoy!

Sidenote: Beel’s and Belphie’s part is a little bit short. Sorry!

TW: Unhealthy relationships, toxic behavior, yandere behavior but not too graphic is mentioned

Spoilers for Lesson 9-11 (mentioned in Satan’s) and Lesson 16 (mentioned in Mammon’s, Beel’s and Belphie’s)

Yandere HC’s with The Bros

So let me begin by saying this: I think that all demons are very territorial and even more so possessive. The brothers no doubt all love you, but you couldn’t help but realize that their way of love was starting to get just a tad bit worrying. I mean, you knew that they were demons and that they wouldn’t dream of hurting you (again), but it was starting to feel...intense. After all, they were just starting to express openly how they feel. You tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, but it was scary. They were determined that you were going to know just how much they love you...

And you were going to accept it, whether you wanted to or not.

Lucifer

Very controlling

You thought he was strict before, please, you haven’t seen anything yet

It went from telling you when to eat to downright constantly being in his presence. You were pretty much living in his room at this point, with the exception of leaving for school where he was your only escort

He was the embodiment of Pride, he took in pride in everything that he does, which included you. He was the reflection of perfection, and he were going to make sure that you and your relationship with him would reflect that too

He couldn’t help it. He was the oldest and the brother in charge, and that control transferred into your relationship. There was no room for backtalk or disobedience with him, it was his word, and his word was final

But, it was coming from a good place (in his eyes). He only wanted the best for you, because you deserved the best. And you’re a human, one of the weakest beings to ever exist that demons wouldn’t hesitate to rip limb from limb for fun. And he already lost you once due to his negligence. If he was there, if he knew what you were up to, if he knew your every move, then it wouldn’t have taken place. If he takes control, you would be safe. Sure, you would complain about wanting your “freedom” back (relax MC, he didn’t lock you up yet), but this was the best course of action. 

Being the Avatar of Pride and the oldest (and most powerful) of all the brothers, Lucifer was intimidating. He knew the power and the weight that his name holds in the Devildom, he wasn’t Diavolo’s right hand man for nothing. So with that being said, he didn’t have to worry about any lesser demon even thinking about trying to take you away. 

He didn’t see anyone as competition. Psh, do you see who he is? If anything, he sees these “competitors” as nuisances. Annoyances that didn’t know how to go away when they noticed that they weren’t welcomed. They weren’t going to take you away, they won’t even get the chance to be physically close to you, but...

He didn’t have a problem in making an example out of one or two people, as a matter of fact he relished it in. Have them on display for the whole Devildom to see. After looking at their disfigured and nearly destroyed bodies, the message is made clear: to make sure that it’s known that you are off limits completely

He loves you MC, and you may not understand that when he hovers over you, demanding that you never leave his sight, when he makes it to where none of your friends talk to you anymore (when they see you both walking, they immediately turn the other way like they haven’t seen you at all), and even when your time with the other brothers is limited to the point where you see him and only him, but he truly does love you

Lucifer loves you. He let his walls down and even swallowed his pride when he admitted this to you, and he doesn’t want to regret it. Which is why he had to be the dominant force in this relationship. He wasn’t going to lose you again, he refused to. No one was going to take you away from him, lest they incur the wrath of the firstborn

Mammon

This demon was already clingy, so just amp it up to an 1000

Mammon already gets picked on by demons, witches, and even his own family. So when you started to defend and comfort him, he was smitten. You, a mere human, making the Great Mammon feel butterflies in his stomach? Had you told Mammon this 100s of years ago that he would fall in love with a human, he would have laughed in your face and blew you off. But here he was, head over heels in love with you

He was already following you, since he was deemed your protector, and he took that title very seriously.

“Oi MC, stay close with me, that creep’s walking too close.” “Human, ‘ya need to let me walk with you every class, what if some no-good demon’s plannin’ something and I’m not there?!” “MC, stay away from that scumbag, I don’t like him being near you...”

Your safety wasn’t a game, it wasn’t a risk he would be taking like he’s playing a game of poker. No. He loves you, and he hasn’t felt this kind of warmth since his days in the Celestial Realm. If it means that he would never leave your side (and trust me, he’s not complaining), then he was happy about it. Ecstatic even. You were a pure soul and you made him smile everyday, he wasn’t willing to lose you by a longshot

He escalated from being a puppy to a growling rabid demon, baring his fangs at anyone he deemed a threat (which was starting to be an alarming rate of people, even people that you both personally knew). Mammon would always have some sort of grip on you, ready to pull you away under the guise that he was defending you. It got to a point where it just seemed like he was always on edge, just picking fights for no reason, and it got to the point where you confronted him about it. These people were your friends! They weren’t random demons trying to eat you alive, they weren’t trying to torture you for entertainment, and you are your own person! You’re not just some possession, and you’re not a child! You can take care of yourself-

He didn’t like that at all

You didn’t understand it, you’re a weakling compared to everyone here, and you wouldn’t make it by yourself (was Belphie not enough proof of that statement?!). You needed Mammon, and he was going to be there protecting you, whether you wanted it or not. He failed once, and got a second chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it. And if you didn’t want his protection, that’s okay. You’ll grow to live and love him soon enough

Many people forget that while Mammon does act childish and does rather stupid things at times, he is the second born. The second most powerful brother right after Lucifer himself. He won’t (or at least tries not to) do these acts in front of you, no. He knows how vulnerable you can be, you’re not used to seeing vicious acts like these in front of you, but he is. Your classmate that wanted to do a study date for a big test? He’s trying to curse you so he can hurt you Canceled last minute and unenrolled from the class next day. Beel’s teammate that asked you for your number? He obviously wants to get some inside info to harm you Bones broken beyond repair to the point where he couldn’t play Fangol anymore and left in despair (you were only trying to plan a surprise for Beel since he’s been working so hard). The demon that accidentally bumped into you on the street? He tried to attack you and Mammon stepped in before it got worse You personally saw what he was capable of before you begged him to stop. 

All in all, he’s the Avatar of Greed, it’s in his nature to be selfish. Before, he hated himself for how low his sin would make him feel, but damn did it feel good to indulge in it with it came to you

Leviathan

Out of all the bros to go yandere, he would be one of the worst to encounter. Good luck MC, cause you’re gonna need it dealing with his yandere side

Being that his sin is jealousy, it’s just a disaster waiting to happen. Why were you ALWAYS talking to his brothers and not him?! It’s not fair, it’s not fair!-

On top of that, he can be very manipulative, and he knows it. Whenever he talks down on himself, saying that he can understand why you would want to talk to other people instead of him. After all, he’s just a icky otaku who’s a worthless excuse for the third strongest brother-

Whenever he has this spouts, he knows that you’ll drop everything and come reassure him. You can always reschedule, he needs you now

With Levi, he knows what he’s doing is wrong, but he can’t help it, and he doesn’t care to. It took him so long to find real affection, and even then he still had his suspicions. You don’t really care for him if you keep trying to leave him, you don’t! Clearly, your love was just an act. If you really did love him, then wouldn’t you spend all of your time with him and no one else? 

He knew that you couldn’t physically be with him forever, you weren’t immortal after all. But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t spend your remaining time with him. You could switch to online classes like him, constant anime and TSL marathons, and you could even watch him stream live! That sounded like heaven (ironically) to him and it would make him beyond happy, so why aren’t you agreeing with him? You would do this if Mammon asked or even if your hex classmate begged you too, so why not do it for him?? Was he not enough for you?! He knew that someone would try to steal you, and there will be hell to pay

Another thing, Levi was smart. Granted, not as book smart as Satan, but he was smart and sly. Always being stuck in his room, it gave him the chance to be stealthy since no one ever expects him to leave (unless it was for a rare appearance at RAD for student council meetings or something he was actually excited for and wouldn’t shut up about it). This gives him time for what needs to be done: collecting some “personal souvenirs” for himself and getting rid of some scum

Levi is like Mammon, many people forget that not only is he the third strongest, but he is the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. They just don’t see him in this position of power because of his image as the shut-in otaku who fanboys over Ruri-Chan. But when he breaks out of that mentality, people should worry...

He doesn’t like to be super messy, his route is silent but quick. Doesn’t mean that it would be painless though, just quick and without much of a mess. Being an reptile/aquatic demon does have its perks, especially when it comes to using his venom

Levi, while he struggles with openly expressing his feelings, won’t have that much of an issue showing you how he feels. He may not be able to say it with words confidently, but he can definitely show you how he truly feels by never letting you go

Satan

Another one to where if he went yandere, he would be the worst to deal with

Satan, while he had a better handle on his emotions, still struggled from time to time. He is the Avatar of Wrath, and yes, you all didn’t feel like you had to walk on eggshells when conversing with him, it didn’t mean that you could just say or do anything

He still reacted in his angry ways, but it wasn’t nearly as ruthless as how it was before. For example, if you spilled something on him by accident, he’ll be just a little irritated, but after looking at your guilty expression, it would slowly drift away. He knows that you aren’t idiotic like some of his brothers , and it was you, he couldn’t stay mad at you no matter how much he tried. It would eat at him, anger turning into sadness, then clarity and understanding. And you were to thank for that

After the whole body swap fiasco, he gotten better with understanding emotions other than the usual fury that flowed through his body. And the ones that you would make him feel got him addicted, to say the least

Like Levi, he starts to understand that what he is doing can’t be right, but he doesn’t understand why. Satan, one of (if not) the smartest of the brothers, could not figure out what you were making him feel, until it finally hit him when you said the three words he desperately didn’t know that he needed to hear:

“Thank you so much, Satan! Seriously, I love you.” 

This feeling became much clearer now. This...was how true love felt? Like the ones that he read so much about? This was like a dream come true then. He, a demon that born from literal wrath, was receiving genuine love. Someone loved him, and he refused to let that go. 

He would occupy your time and space more, always offering to help you study for some tests or completing assignments, and even inviting you to come read with him. This was fine, it wasn’t an issue. 

What was the issue was how territorial he was getting of you. Whenever someone else wanted to hang out or just be in your presence, Satan would lose his cool. It would start out slowly building with him making snarky comments out loud, saying that they were boring you and wasting your time when you could be with him. Then it would lead to him lingering around, sticking close to your side by either grasping your hand or, if he was feeling extra possessive, an arm wrapped tightly around your waist with him giving a threatening look at the offender. If none of these things were working however (Diavolo forbid if the person was ignoring him or even acting smug), he was ready to explode.

He didn’t want to scare you anymore than he already had. Satan knew that in the past that he used his reputation as the Avatar of Wrath to strike fear into people, including you when you first arrived here. But he was a new demon! He couldn’t make his anger or wrath go away, but he could control it and find new ways to release it instead of the usual rampages. And he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t just the rage-filled demon, but a man that was more than capable of loving you

But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, let this person get off scot-free. You noticed how tense he was getting, and before you could even blink he already had them dangling by their neck. You could make out some of the things he was saying, “How dare you think you can take MC away from me?! I won’t hesitate to end your pathetic existence if you so much as glance at them-”. He could feel you tugging at him, pleading at him to please calm down and that you could both just leave-

Well, why didn’t you say so earlier MC? All of this could have been avoided if you were just with him this entire time instead of this filth. As long as you kept giving him this euphoric feeling and have him feeling like he’s on Cloud 9, then everything will be fine. A non-rampaging Satan is a happy Satan, and a happy Satan is good for you and everyone around. Just stay in his presence, just give him love, and everything will be peaceful.

Satan is not a merciful demon, and when he acts on his wrath it gets very gruesome. If you want people to keep their body parts attached and not scattered across the Devildom (and not find their bloody heart at your door since they wanted you to have it so much), then don’t stray away from him. When Satan is with you, he feels content with everything, and he doesn’t want that to change. He wants you to be happy with him like he is with you, and he won’t let anyone get in the way of that

You were the beauty to his beast, and he was going to get his happy ever after, even if he had to tear through and rip apart every single person in the way, one by one

Asmodeus

Getting the Avatar of Lust to fall in love with you is a feat that was rarely (if not ever) obtained. It was both a blessing and a curse

A blessing to where you got the treasured fifth born to show you just how much he appreciates you for you, and only wanted your eyes set on him. A curse to where he only wanted your attention, and was furious if your eyes wandered off him for a millisecond.

You knew how Asmo was, he lived for the attention, the spotlight on him and only him, with people announcing their undying love and affection just for him. But there was a glaring problem with this

Asmo wanted you announcing your undying love and affection just for him. He loved his fans, but he didn’t love them like he loved you, and that was a problem for him. You made him fall in love with you, so it’s only fair that you deal with it, right? It’s only fair to love him as much as he did you right? Really, you were the one that was suppose to be madly in love with him, not the other way around

It doesn’t matter what you answered, loving him was the only choice that you had. Your head should be filled with thoughts of Asmo, your attention only set on him, your pretty lips only speaking praises and “I love you” just for him, you should dedicated to Asmo and only Asmo

What did you do to make him fall so hard for you? He’s no stranger to having flings and the feeling of love in general. In the past, he’s convinced himself that he was in love with certain people, but it would never last, the “love” that he felt fleeting. So for you to make him feel this emotion, to feel this true love for so long and it not leave him yet frightened him so much. He wanted you to need him, to feel like he’s your very reason to breath, to live. 

And he hated it when other people took your attention away

Asmo definitely wasn’t the one to be messy (he still has to look his best and some pieces of trash was not about to change that), so he lets his charm do the job, literally. Who could deny his request when he tells them that they should just leave MC alone forever, and that maybe they should go pay Cerberus a visit if they’re so desperate for some attention.

All in all, Asmo is borderline delusional that loving him is by giving him your attention, always and forever. He loves you, and the bare minimum that you’ve been giving him (in his eyes) isn’t enough anymore. He deserves your love and affection at all times, even if it means that he would be the only person in your life, then that was even better. Your love was only fitted for perfection, and he was perfection, no one else

Beelzebub

Okay, so Beel is already the nicest brother out of the bunch, so I think he would be the least concerning yandere to worry about 

He’s already soft when it comes to you and his family, and he’s protective of you

He’s very, very protective of you

Beel, although he’s among the youngest, is one of the strongest physically. He’s muscular and the tallest out of the family. He doesn’t even need to open his mouth to threaten anyone, he can just stand there and stare menacingly in the background, and whoever was there would run for the hills 

He’s always around you, which isn’t a bad thing. All he does is eat (which he offered to share and even feed to you), make small talk, and walk with you to wherever you needed to go. Besides, to you Beel is a big cuddly teddy bear (just with really sharp teeth). He wouldn’t hurt anyone without reason. As long as no one was trying to take you away or hurt you, then everything was fine. 

He is willing to share you, but only with Belphie. He’s used to sharing with his twin, and he loved the both of you too much to be completely selfish with you. Plus, he knew that Belphie loved you too. This was the perfect reality for him: having you, his twin, and food. It makes him and Belphie happy, and they’ll make you happy along with keeping you safe

Now, if someone did have the courage to try anything with you, Beel would have no problems eliminating the issue. He’s a nice guy, but he won’t tolerate anything if it deals with his family. He’ll be conscious enough to where he won’t handle it in front of you, if anything he won’t even leave a trace. He’s the Avatar of Gluttony after all, he always has an appetite. 

Beel is a very understanding, but also very wary, guy. After the Fall and losing his baby sister Lilith and having Belphie taken too, he’s terrified that something can and is bound to happen to you again. He will be ready this time, he won’t take anything else as an answer. You’ll still have your freedom, and you can still hang around some of your friends (at least for now), but just know that Beel will always be around. He’ll be like your second shadow, and always on the go. He loves you, and he refuses to lose anyone else that he loves. 

Belphegor

This man was already yandere, let’s be real

After the whole situation happened and he was given a second chance to build a real relationship with you, he wasn’t going to screw it up. Believe it or not, despite his laziness, he was going to try his hardest to create a genuine bond with you. Actions speak louder than words after all, and he wanted to show you how much he’s changed. He was indebted to you, you gave him the chance to be with Beel again, and to get out of that cursed attic (even though he did kill you afterwards and was playing you like a fool)

Very possessive and very selfish. If he had to share, it would only be with his twin obviously. No one else was going to have you, and he would make sure that was a fact. After all, all he needed was you and Beel, no one else

Also like Levi, very manipulative. He doesn’t want to be that way, but if it keeps you by his side and no one else’s then oh well, he’ll get over it. If it has to be done, it has to be done

You don’t need to go to that party with Asmo, it’s time for your nightly cuddle sessions. Don’t go with that idiot Mammon, he wants his cuddles now. Why are you going with Diavolo and Lucifer? Are you forgetting what they did to him, what his dear older brother did to him to save face? See what you did, you made him sad, maybe if you take a nap with him and forget about everyone else he’ll start to feel a little bit better...

He’s lazy, but don’t take his laziness for weakness. If someone is really starting to become a bother, he’ll happily eradicate the threat. He’ll leave the body behind too, he wouldn’t feel like cleaning up. Plus, he would be proud of his work. Many people think that just because his sin is Sloth is that he’s a puny demon, but they also forget that he’s one of the most powerful demons to even grace Hell. And like Satan, he’s not very merciful. He won’t be as savage and bloodthirsty like him, but he’ll make sure that the problem goes in an agonizing way. 

MC, just know that Belphie loves you for you, and not because of the Lilith revelation. His words may not come across like he does, but what he doesn’t say with his words, he makes up for in action. I mean, you don’t have to worry about other demons being a pain because he’ll make sure that they’ll go away, and plus you can just stay in their room! Studies show that sleeping next to someone you love is super healthy and helps you sleep better in general, and who else is better for the job than him?

He’s going to prove to you that he really loves you, he’s not going to make any more mistakes, and he’s not going to have any more regrets when it comes to you, he’s going to make sure of that. No one is going to get in the way of the ideal dream: just you, him, and Beel. Not random demons, not the other exchange students, not even Diavolo. No one was getting in the way, no one. 

[forever-rogue]

Congrats on the milestone!!! I found your blog thanks to "In Name Only"- haven't read an Oberyn fanfic that good in years!!! <3 <3 Buuuut could I have one with Javi, pretty please? :3 “Why aren’t you with her?”; But because I've seen you're already done some with Javier and maybe you'd like sth else: Din “ I thought we were family!”. Happy New Year!!!!

So, I had to go with Javier on this because I am in it for him 💕

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader ; warnings: language

Javier Masterlist 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Oh no, no, no,” Javier shook his head fervently as he picked up his glass of whiskey, downing it in one go before he took a long drag of his cigarette. He seemed amused as he spoke in rapid Spanish to his companion for the evening, a man you hadn’t met before. A small smile tugged on your features as you noticed just how relaxed he seemed for once; normally he was tense and tired, just like you and Steve as well. It had been a last minute decision to come here for a drink by yourself, and you definitely hadn’t expected to find Javier here, but you weren’t upset in the slightest, deciding to go in and say a quick hello and see how it went. But his next words caused you to freeze in place.

“She’s nothing to me,” he commented as both burst into gruff laughter, “she’s just a kid, but good for a fuck now and then. A good rookie, but that’s it. If you want something worth your time, you know where to go.”

Your heart felt like it froze before dropping into your stomach at his words; they were so cruel and vile, laced with amusement at your expense. It didn’t long to figure out who he was talking to. Rookie? There was no one but you. Fucking every once in a while? Also you - well the two of you. But it had never been just...sex to you. It had always held so much more weight and somehow you’d thought it had for him to. 

“Move,” a man, clearly drunk, shoved you slightly as stood in the doorway, rooted in place. Your eyes were focused on Javier, and you made a small sound as you were jilted to the side. Javier’s head snapped up at the slight commotion and he paled as he noticed that it was you; shit, shit, shit. Judging by the broken hearted look on your face, he knew you had heard everything. 

You mumbled a quick apology before meeting Javier’s eyes for the briefest of moments before tearing out of the bar and out into the cold, dark street. It wasn’t but a moment before tears were spilling down your cheeks as you tried to control the sobs that threatened to rack your body. No - you weren’t going to let him or anyone see you like this. If he even cared enough to come after you and see if you were okay or what you’d heard. Judging by the cruel sharpness of his words, you highly doubted he would give the situation as much as a passing thought.

Well, you huffed lightly to yourself, dabbing at your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, no one to blame but yourself. Everyone had warned you about Javier Peña - you just hadn’t listened. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What’s wrong, Peña?” the man across the table looked at him and laughed, flagging down a nearby waitress and signaling for her to get two more beers, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Javier closed his eyes and let out a long breath, running a hand over his tired eyes. Part of him knew he should have come after you, but another part of him figured it was pointless. You’d probably never want to see his face again. It was supposed to be a quick comment to his contact, a blaise comment so the man knew to stay away from you, so you were protected - at least as much as he could ensure it. Instead he royally fucked everything up, and naturally you’d had impeccable timing. 

“Nothing,” he lied as he accepted the beer and downed half of it in one go, “nothing at all.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Part of you had wanted to call in sick to work the next day - and the rest of your days. But you’d decided that that was not the way to handle things. You were going to steel yourself and offer him as much indifference and disregard he had afforded you. May it was stupid and childish, but in the moment you didn’t care. He didn’t want anything to do with you and only viewed you as a good fuck now and then, then you would give it right back. You were finally going to take everyone’s advice and keep Javier Peña out of your personal life. At work it was unavoidable, but everywhere else, you were done with him.

“Good morning,” you offered Steve a kind smile before handing him a cup of coffee just like you did most mornings. Javier was already at his desk, pouring over paperwork, but stopping to glance up at you. Steve offered you his own greeting before eagerly accepting the coffee and getting back to work; you could feel Javier’s seeing gaze on you, but weren’t about to break down and gave into him. 

“Morning,” Javier offered, looking intently at you, as you sat down at your own desk and busied yourself with paperwork. There was a ton of it to do after last week’s raid, and that meant the three of you would be stuck at the office for the next few days. Not exactly ideal, to be stuck in close proximity with the man you desperately wanted to avoid, but you’d deal with it. You nodded and made a small, noncommittal sound. 

Steve looked between the two of you, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he realized something was wrong. Javier and yourself were normally thick as thieves, so this was a sharp contrast to what he had come to know as normal. While he didn’t know the full extent of your relationship, he knew it was more than friendly, and it didn’t long to figure out that something had happened. But he wasn’t going to push it or say anything; it wasn’t his place and he was sure that the two of you would figure it out. 

The rest of the day continued in much the same fashion...as did the day after...and the day after that. You played the role of cool and collected, not hurt and unphased by anything, while Javier felt like he was slowly breaking down. He just wanted to speak to you for just a moment, to explain what had happened and that none of it was true - he’d never meant to hurt. He’d just wanted to protect you. 

By Friday evening, he couldn’t handle it anymore; he needed to explain himself, to just get you to listen for a few minutes. Whether or not you chose to believe him would be another case.

“Dulzura-”

“I have a name, Javier,” you snapped at him, trying to push past him and head out of the office for the weekend. You’d planned to meet up with Connie to grab a drink, a much needed girls’ night, and that didn’t include Javier. You’d spent all week trying to get up and over him, and even though you weren’t sure it had worked, you liked the illusion that it did. 

But the seasoned agent was quick, and was able to grab your wrist and keep you from walking away. You looked at him, a frown on your features as you tried to pull out of his grasp, but he was stubborn and steadfast and didn’t release you. 

“We need to talk,” he insisted softly as you huffed impatiently. You didn’t dare to meet his eyes for fear of breaking down and giving in to him. Instead you stared at your feet and wished the ground would open and swallow you whole.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you hissed, the venom in your voice causing him to recoil, “you made that crystal clear. I’m just...what did you call? A good fuck every now and then? What could you - the wonderful most amazing agent - possibly want with me? A rookie?”

“You need to listen and let me explain-”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you’d caught him off guard and he dropped your wrist, allowing you to pull out of his grasp and take a step away, "if you thought that's all I was you could have made it clear. I never...I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I should have listened, huh? Stay away from Javier Peña and I was just thinking dumb rookie that didn't listen. Joke's on me, right?"

"That's not - that's never what this was. Not to me," he insisted as you'd started to walk, causing you to stop dead in your tracks. Slowly turning around, you cocked your head to the side in confusion, "that's not what this started out as or what I wanted."

"Oh really?" you were stuck somewhere between shock and disbelief as you laughed bitterly, "do you mean it or are you saying that because you're trying to look good? Is that what you tell all the girls when you want them to get back in your bed?"

"Would you just stop and listen to me for one fucking moment?!" the sharpness of his tone caused you to look at him in surprise, "I've been trying to talk to you all week and you've been avoiding me like I've got the fucking plague. You won't even look at me."

"You broke my fucking heart!" you yelled back at him, feeling something snap within you as a few tears rolled down your cheeks, "and the worst thing? I was never even supposed to know. You couldn't even tell me to my fucking face! Was I supposed to find out or just be a laughingstock for you and your buddies? Or what about your informants? Why aren't you with her?"

"Stop! Just let me talk and listen for a moment," he ran his hands over his face as he groaned in annoyance, "fuck - if you never do anything else just please listen now. A few minutes is all I'm asking for."

"Fine," you agreed quietly, crossing your arms over your chest as you quirked an eyebrow, "you've got five minutes."

"You weren't supposed to hear those things I said," he agreed with a heavy sigh, as you tried not to sniffle too loudly at his declaration, "because it wasn't true - not in the way you think."

"How...what-?"

"My turn to talk," he reminded you, "your turn to listen. That man I was with...he's not a good man, Dulzura. He's an informant, but that doesn't mean he has any honor or virtue. If he knew you were mine, or anything if the sort, he would have used that against me in a heartbeat. He's not a good man. And all I wanted to do was protect you. The only way I could think to do that was to make it seem like I didn't care - if you don't matter he won't think twice about you. If he knew even a fraction of how much you mean to me, you'd be his first target if the tables ever turned. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"Javier…" at some point your mouth had dropped and your mind was reeling as you tried to figure out what was going on. Had you really jumped to the worst conclusion with knowing only half of the story? He leaned against the door-frame and let out a long sigh, "do you...really?"

"I just wanted to protect you," he confirmed with a small nod, "I didn't mean for you to hear it because none of it was true. Of all the times for you to walk into that shitty bar...amazing timing, Dulzura. I'm sorry you had to hear it, especially since none of it was true."

"Wait," you looked at him with wide eyes as your heart sank when you realized you'd been giving him the cold shoulder for no reason. You felt like a fool; you should have known better than just to give into your flighty emotions. You knew Javier - the real Javier. You should have known you could have trusted him - talked to him from the start. But...shit.

"I would have told you that already if you'd just let me talk and not run away every time you saw me," he admitted with a shrug, "maybe it wasn't the best way to say it but I just...I want to keep you safe. Always."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And just like that, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him close before crashing your lips onto his. He kissed you back without hesitation, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close. 

"What if someone sees?" you suddenly remembered between kisses as grinned at him. He shook his head and easily played it off.

"Doesn't matter," he insisted as he kissed you softly, this particular kiss filled with more longing and saccharine intensity, "I'll protect you. I'm sorry for how things seemed. I would never mean anything like that."

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," you whispered softly, sneaking in a few more kisses, "I should have known better. I should have just come to you."

"Next time," he insisted as he gently touched your face, "Dulzura - you know how much I…"

"I know, Javier. Now I truly know," you grinned at him, "me too."

"Want to get out of here?"

"Sorry babe," you teased, "its girls night. I would not be opposed, however, if my two favorite partners happened to make a surprise appearance at the same bar…"

"See you soon," he grinned, "and then you're all mine."

"I'm counting on that."

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