#when autumn comes around everything goes out the window and i just want to stop and hibernate for the winter until spring again

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

sometimes i feel like i just get into a weird mental place, don't know what to do anymore, nothing feels real and i start slowly losing my mind more and more

[fanaticmorelikefantastic]

I'm just gonna put this here

It felt like it had been hours. Hell, when I checked the time, it really had been hours. Yet here I am, still staring at an empty Word document. Well, almost empty. I kept writing and rewriting the first few sentences. ‘It was a cold and stormy night.’ No. Who starts with that anymore? ‘It was summer, the summer of my-’ Ugh I hate summer, it makes me think of flies. ‘It’s too bad that every love ends with heartbreak.” I’m not even writing a tragedy what? Well I could, but I’d feel terribly bad about it and would eventually end up writing a messy redemption arc with countless plot holes. Ew. I don’t know how long this cycle continued for until I was entirely fed up with everything. That’s a lie, it lasted for an hour and forty five minutes. I was obsessively checking the clock the entire time as though it held some secret answer to my writing dilemma, or the universe, or something. But it doesn’t and I’m all out of ideas, and motivation, and friends, and real romance, and potatoes, and milk, and hair ties, and- okay let’s stop. I shut down my laptop and put it in its bag. For a moment I thought that I could finish that painting I’ve been working on (the one that was ordered by that pretentious a- be nice), but the tedium deterred me. (It does have to be done in the next ten weeks though. I wish I would’ve just picked a struggle instead of being so ambitious.) Maybe a break is what I needed. That or a change of scenery. Both maybe. After standing up and almost falling right back down, I was reminded to eat, or that I haven’t eaten, or that I should go out somewhere to eat while I write! Genius, absolute. I practically ran to my room to get dressed to go. I could walk around and see if there’s anything to eat nearby, or I could just go to one of my regular spots. I had a hankering for adventure today, so I settled on the former. Cute clothing always boosts morale, so let's put some on. I also make sure that they’re comfortable. It’s important to be comfortable when you’re planning on staring at a computer screen for several (more) hours. 

It must’ve been divine intervention that made me want to go outside, because whilst in this cafe (which I never really noticed before) words have been pouring out of my mind. A hook, an exposition, a main character that I actually don’t hate, it seemed like all the stars were aligning in favor of me and this story. Well, all the stars that aren’t the male lead. I had written all the way up to when we meet him, but there he goes, pulling a disappearing act. Nestled in the corner of a cute and cozy cafe on a late autumn morning seemed like the perfect place to have a meet cute with the fragmented image of a male lead, but strangely, he was nowhere to be found. I scanned around the space for any inspiration. The cozy wooden tables and decorations paired with sleek black accents along the ceiling and other places gave the area a moody and romantic feel. The only problem was that there weren’t any moody or romantic people whose style I could rip off for my character. I gave up on my plan pretty fast. I had made plenty of progress already (or at least I gaslit myself into thinking so), so I chose instead to worry about whether or not I should get another one of those delicious sandwiches. Paninis. The food they served here was stupidly good, and maybe it could magically imbue some new ideas into my head. I decided on getting the chicken version of the sandwich (panini) I just had. While I ordered at the counter, my eyes wandered to a mini key lime tart seated behind the glass. I wondered for a second what their desserts tasted like, nestled all cozy in their display. It's what they specialize and advertise so I’m sure they’re delicious, but I needed an excuse to come back later, right? 

I settled into my seat, a new spot closer to the window this time, thinking that maybe a different view would help me to finally write in this character. His personality was already pretty much decided (it’s written in the notebook I have reserved for this book), but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what he was to look like. While pondering at my meal (sandwich (panini)), I heard the little cowbell on the door jingle and I instinctively looked up. I was joking earlier, but now I’m sure that some higher being brought me here because the man that just walked in was drop dead gorgeous. He was an absolute unit, his arm muscles unmistakably flexing in his short sleeved shirt (not that I was looking or anything (no, really they looked at me first). It was gray, which I usually wouldn’t like, but when it’s tucked into a pair of dark blue jeans fixed by a belt that matched the combat boots peeking from under them (the jeans), I waver just a bit. That’s all well and great, but the real kicker was when he glazed his eyes across the room. Oh my goodness his eyes. It felt like getting hit by a ton of bricks but if the bricks were made of metaphorical blue raspberry jell-o imbued with pure effervescence. It seemed like my fingers were floating when I wrote:

‘His eyes were blue when they met mine. I know it’s terribly cliche, but I couldn’t help but notice the cold, milky blue in his irises that melted away like a glacier when he looked to the floor. With gentle hands, he picked up my wallet, placing it in my hand that was, embarrassingly, frozen in place. I grasped it mindlessly as we both stood up. 

“Be careful not to drop it next time.” Not if you’re around to pick it up for me. 

“Yea.” I sounded pathetic. I felt pathetic. I looked pathetic as I watched him walk away, heart full of hopes, stomach full of butterflies, and head full of dreams.’ 

He walked right by me and I froze, the result of a sort of guilt for using him as a basis for someone in my novel. I tried to steal a discreet glance at him, but it was just my luck that he sat down in a cafe, by himself, with just one coffee, to do nothing. He wasn’t even on his phone. I immediately turned back around, not giving myself any time to see if he saw me or not because of course he did. He didn’t have anything else to look at (Wow, I sound so stuck up). I do my best to wrap up the paragraph I’m on and hide the embarrassment I feel towards this stranger that probably doesn’t even know I’m writing a paragraph about a girl falling in love with a fictitious version of him. I feel gross about it, but it’s not like I’m stalking him or anything, I just appropriated his likeness to write into my novel, which will be published, and people will (hopefully) read. I left before he did and on my way back I wondered why it was that I felt so guilty about it. It surely wasn’t the first time I pilfered a random name called by the barista at Starbucks, or stole the style of somebody I saw out of my window, or even took the words from a conversation I’d overheard for the sake of my writing. This time it felt a little more personal, maybe it’s because he was my type: tall, blonde, and built like a refrigerator. Whatever it was, I put it behind me by the time I got home. After all, it’s not like I’ll ever see him again. Now that chicken panini? That’s a different story.

Enter tomorrow morning, where I wake up refreshed, and early, and equipped with a name for our favorite love interest. Leon. It was a great name to give him, simple and iconic so the readers (and I) will remember it throughout the rest of the story. Also it goes great with the name Audrey. Audrey and Leon, star crossed lovers.  For a moment, the image of the guy from the coffee shop flashed through my mind, but that man’s name could never be Leon. I stretch my limbs, popping almost every joint in my body, before stepping into the shower and thinking about how his (the guy from yesterday’s) name probably starts with a J. He looked like a Jason, or maybe a Jamie. Definitely a Jamie. After I quickly jot down the name (Leon, not Jamie) into my notebook, which has gained more than a few stickers on the cover, I decide that now is the perfect time to go for a walk, maybe even a jog. It’s not often that I wake up feeling so great, so I have to take full advantage of it. Athletic leggings and a sleeveless top, something I don’t usually wear, but today we’re getting out of our box. I give a small thanks to laser hair removal as I put them on. The shirt matches the stripe in the leggings, which matches my shoes. I love how it matches. I also love how my leggings have a pocket on the side, and how it zips closed. I say another thanks to feminist clothing designers as I put my phone in said pocket before checking my ponytail once more in the mirror and leaving from my front door (like I have any other one). I make extra sure to lock it, turns out I hadn’t last time, which was scary, but thankfully inconsequential. 

The elevator to the lobby was filled with bliss. I even said hello to the receptionist on my way out of the building. I logged two miles around the park, half of which I actually jogged for. I sat on a bench, feeling accomplished and wondering if I should do another lap around, or maybe I should reward my excellence with a little treat, a chicken panini perhaps. I remembered those sweets they had on display at that shop (I can’t remember the name of it for the life of me) and decided that I’d rather die than not eat one of those this morning. I just did a run, I already worked off the calories, right? I did my best to perform a discreet smell check before heading that direction. I hummed lightly to myself all the way there, brainstorming ideas for how to progress my novel. It’d be cool if she found out his name by accident, like seeing it on his belongings, or overheating a friend say it, or something. That’s all fine and good, but the trope of saying ‘The name’s Leon’ still has a vice grip on me. I should've brought my notebook along. Then I could have written all this down. The friendly jingle of the door bell greeted me as I walked in the store. When I took my place in line, the focus of my thoughts shifted to which dessert I should get. Something with apples for sure. I love apples. They’re so refreshing and kinda earthy? There are so many kinds of apples, but they all taste similar somehow. I wonder why. I couldn’t pinpoint the reason before it was my turn to enthusiastically order an apple turnover (and a chai latte, I couldn’t help myself when I saw someone order one before me). I received the turnover in a little brown baggie and took a seat nearby to wait for my latte. While waiting, I pondered the second meeting of our (my) favorite protagonists and if Jamie is getting another medium black coffee right now. Wait, Jamie? I snapped myself back into reality as I watched (the man that I secretly dubbed) Jamie walk into the store and towards the ordering counter. I hadn’t expected him to be here again today, or at least that’s what I told myself because I couldn’t admit the possibility of him being a regular here. He probably was. I had (thankfully) barely started my thought spiral when my name was called at the counter. I mindlessly walked up and grabbed my cup. What a coincidence, I walked to the counter just in time to witness Jamie order a medium coffee with cream, but no sugar. I looked at him for a second, one second too long apparently. He looked at me (with those eyes, those infuriatingly gorgeous ones that made me sacrifice my writing morals to make the male lead have ones the exact same color) and smiled. He smiled at me, a knowing one as though he knew something I didn’t. Did he? Probably. I returned it along with a polite nod, then tried my best to exit the store with my dignity intact. Unfortunately, fate had different plans. I had barely taken a couple steps away when I heard a voice call out to me.

“Hey wait up!” It was him. I know it was, I just heard him order his coffee. His voice sounds like coffee, rich and smooth. I turn around, putting on my best I-definitely-didn’t-plan-to-write-a-whole-book-about-you face.

“Yea?” I can’t get over how perfect he looks. It feels illegal for a man to have such flawless skin and- scar? Why would he have a-

“Hey um, I just couldn’t help but notice you at the cafe earlier. Well I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna meet up for a chat there sometime?” I would die for this man. It was something about the way he said it, or maybe he’s just using his evil eye powers to hypnotize me because I feel like I could never say no to him and I have an alarming lack of qualms about it. 

“Yea- Yea, um I think that’d be nice! Well, my name is _ and I’ll look forward to meeting you- uhh…” I gave him that please-tell-me-your-name look that people do when they want to finish their sentence. He laughed a bit. Well, more like a lighthearted exhale, but I say it counts.

“Leon. It’s Leon” Oh. My. God. Oh no. Oh dear.

“Leon, Okay! Do you, uhh” I moved the bag that held my pastry to be precariously secured by the hand that held my latte in order to grab my phone from my pocket. 

“Oh, yeah, let me put my number in.” Leon gently took it from my hand when I held it out to him (he also scrambled my brain by making me try to figure out how his hands could simultaneously feel like clouds and alligators). I watched him type his name, then his number. All my thoughts must’ve gotten scared and hidden away, because my head feels empty as  a helium balloon. I clumsily receive my phone back once he’s done, looking at the name ‘Leon S. Kennedy’, then back at him. He’s so gorgeous and he’s just standing there, smiling, but not like an idiot (I’m the one smiling like that), he’s more like, a reassuring fireman. 

“I’ll see you around then?” I barely registered that he was talking to me. It felt like I was having a semi-lucid dream where once I wake up, I realize my entire life until now was just a figment of my imagination. 

“Yea.” I sounded pathetic. I felt pathetic. I looked pathetic as I watched him walk away, head full with dreams, heart full with hopes, and stomach fluttering with butterflies. 

…

I am so dead.

[runakamoran]

A late FNAF piece for WIP Wednesday

I wanted to post it yesterday, but then I forgor 💀 Silent Hill 2 remake is taking my mind rn. But have a little piece of mini FNAF fic I've been working on this autumn. Post-canon SB Savior ending.

❗ TW: attempted murder, descriptions of violence

It's been over a month, but Vanessa still isn't sure what to do. You'll figure it out when you get there, they told her at work. But the road goes on and on, farm after farm, town after town. She never gets anywhere, and everything just becomes more confusing.

Turns out, even the Internet can't tell what to do if your identity has been stolen by an evil doppelganger who kept you captive for past six months. Or how to cope with the horror overtaking you every time you see your own face in the mirror. And how to move on after this, when all you have left is a bag of clothes, an old laptop, and a stolen van with altered license plates.

She tried to look for an answer. She's still looking, but never found.

The future seems bleak and blurry. She tries not to think about it. Not to think about what she’ll do when winter comes; when the van serving as their home becomes too cold to spend nights in; when her savings run dry just when she needs them most – when her laptop breaks, or her car, or the boy sleeping on the trunk floor doesn’t get better… A good number of “what ifs” she’s not prepared for, neither physically or mentally, make her head spin.

So Vanessa tries not to think about the future and focuses on here and now. The gas station is four miles away. They need to stop and have breakfast. Add another ten gallons to the tank and hope it'll be enough to get them to the next town.

Route 95 stretches forward, an endless gray stripe through the withered savannah. The sun rises slowly over the brown sandstone hills. The arid plateau, pitted with ravines, stretches for miles around. Every now and then, lone farms and ranches appear on the sides, but they quickly fade into the tawny Mojave Desert. Nevada will be behind them soon. California is next. And then.. who knows.

Vanessa hums lazily to a song of Crosby, Stills and Nash playing on radio. Behind her, Gregory sleeps, curled up on the floor. They've thrown out the back seats and lined the entire back of the van with rugs and blankets, turning it into some sort of motorhome. Next to her, plugged into the cigarette lighter by a charger cable, sits the third and final passenger, Freddy. Or what's left of him. The edge of the blanket hides him securely in case someone curious wants to look in the windows.

If a year ago someone told Vanessa her only company would be a street boy and a talking head, she would've probably laughed. It still seems as ridiculous as it sounds.

There's no one at the gas station except for one sleepy attendant. The woman buys a few sandwiches, a cup of coffee for herself and a box of juice for Gregory. The boy is snoring heavily, his swollen nose buried in the pillow; drool is dripping from his slightly open mouth. Vanessa pats his shoulder carefully. At least, she tries to - the boy shudders from her touch and immediately opens his eyes.

"Hush, it's me," she says softly. "Come on, it's time to take your meds."

"Good morning, superstars!" the voice from under the covers sounds much more cheerful. "You should have breakfast first! It's bad to take your medication on an empty stomach."

Greg grumbles discontentedly, tosses and turns in his makeshift bed. However, his whims quickly stop as soon as he hears the rustle of an opening package. The boy grasps his sandwich as if someone's going to take it away. It's an old habit.

He looked so much better than he was a week ago, but some wounds still needed attention. The bruises had healed, except for the biggest ones, especially the one stretching around his neck. Several cuts on his arms and legs still needed bandages, and the old ones covering his dark skin needed replacing. The biggest problem was his nose - the swelling was lessening, but the bridge was crooked, and his wheezing and frequent nosebleeding weren't encouraging at all. They couldn't see a doctor, so Vanessa had to deal with everything herself. As best she could.

They couldn't draw attention to themselves. According to official data, Vanessa Anderson-Johnson was found guilty of theft, vandalism, kidnapping and murder of at least nine people. Not long ago, her name was flashing in news across the country; but at least she knew the police won't be looking for her.

According to official data, Vanessa Anderson-Johnson was dead.

She tries to be gentle, but the boy still hisses when she puts antiseptic on his inflamed skin. He never complains and hardly ever cries, probably seeing it a sign of weakness. Nessa still makes him take painkillers, along with antibiotics and vitamins. He didn't survive a fight with a killer just to die from some infection.

When she's done, Vanessa puts away the first aid kit, pats the boy on the head, and tells him to stay here while she works in the cafe for a bit. Gregory waves lazily and curls up on his cot again, clearly not planning on getting up for the next couple of hours. Freddy promises to look after the boy, and she believes him. This robot adores his kid and will protect him - as much as a talking head wired to a car can do so.

Vanessa finishes another assignment and hopes she will get paid this time. Freelance is an unreliable thing. You never know who's sitting on the other side and whether they cheat or not. But at least she has the opportunity to earn some money without having to reveal her face and identity. And this is the only source of income available, so Nessa grits her teeth, endures insults and makes any edits, so the client will finally pay.

She tries not to look in the mirrors; but, washing her hands after bathroom break, she inadvertently meets her reflection. Vanessa freezes, when for a moment she sees her in her own face - her crooked smile, her eyes burning with malicious joy. The woman jerks away from the mirror in horror. However, when she looks up again, she sees herself - her pale and nervous face, with chapped lips and dark eye bags. Despite everything, it's still her, Vanessa. Even if the rest of the world doesn't know.

That woman took everything from her. College savings, an old car, all belongings, her documents and job, her identity, her freedom. Even that nickname, Vanny, was a cruel mockery of a name she stole. But there was one thing she couldn't take away: her life. At the last moment, Vanessa was saved by the boy that woman considered her prey.

Vanessa takes longer than usual to wash her face, as if the cold water could wash away all her fatigue and road dust.

She tries not to think about that night, even though it's burned into her memory and comes back to her mind whether she wants it or not. They're almost out; the clock hit six in the morning, the doors are wide open. But Vanny is there first, along with every security bot in the mall. Freddy tried to stop them. He's but a head now.

Vanessa drags the boy toward the loading docks, despite his protests. Suddenly, he breaks free and disappears around the corner. The young woman runs to the security post, throws open the box and grabs the key to the service van. She turns to run again – and meets her double on the other side of the glass. The woman with Vanessa’s face grins back and raises the hammer.

The reflection shatters, a shower of shards scattering across the small office, and Vanny is already inside. Nessa barely has time to reach for the door before a strong, gloved fist strikes under her chin, in her stomach, in her temple. The ceiling spins, her breath hitches. Someone grabs her by the hair, throws her head against the table, thrashing her like a doll. Another blow, and Vanessa is on the floor. As usual in scenario like this, her double is always stronger.

The doppelganger pulls out her belt and tightens it around the real Vanessa's neck.

"Think about it," Vanny whispers, tightening her grip. "A simple security guard took advantage of her position, and used it to lure and kill children! But suddenly, she felt remorseful and hanged herself in her own office. What a story!"

The evil reflection floats and fades, and her head sinks into a silent vacuum. Vanessa always loses this fight.

"And no one will ever know… Not if they think I am you."

But she wasn't alone that night.

A scream tears through the void, and air comes back to her lungs. Vanny screams; Gregory hangs on her, clutching her hair with one hand. In the other, he holds a box cutter, and stabs her back over and over. Blood splatters across the shards of glass.

The woman howls in pain and spins around, trying to get the boy clinging to her like a small, ferocious bull terrier. Vanessa tries to crawl away, to get to her feet, but her body protests. Vanny barely manages to tear Gregory from her. The boy throws the cutter away - its blade has broken from his furious blows - and runs. The woman catches him at the door.

"Bastard! Son of a bitch!" she roars. "I'll rip your guts out, you brat!"

The sounds of struggle fade as her consciousness slips away; but Vanessa quickly comes to her senses. She must've been out for around ten minutes. In that time, the security post has changed drastically.

Empty concrete walls and floors, broken furniture - everything is covered in blood. Vanessa has never seen so much in her life. The air smells sickeningly of iron, and her aching head spins. Vomit rises in her throat, and she barely holds herself back. In the lake of red lies her double with a cut throat. She's still smiling.

Vanessa hears a small sob and remembers – oh god, Gregory. He’s still there, tucked in the far corner. Sitting with his arms wrapped around knees, huddled in a ball, covered in blood from head to toe. It doesn't take long for her to put two and two together. Forgetting her own pain, she grabs the key on the floor, scoops the boy up in her arms, and runs.

Halfway to the loading docks, he suddenly comes to life, wriggles out and runs off to grab some duffel bag. Vanessa doesn’t ask why – she shoves him into the backseat, starts the van and takes off, nearly knocking down the roller shutters.

From that moment on, they run.

Much later, Vanessa thought she shouldn't have done that. Maybe if she'd just waited for the police and explained the situation, they wouldn't have gotten stuck in this mess. But she was too scared and shocked to think straight, and it was too late to turn back now.

But it didn't matter, because she's still alive, no matter what. So, gathering everything she had left, Vanessa is building her future anew.

[galaxysodapopdraws]

So here’s something I don’t normally do, write fanfiction! If y’all do enjoy it and want to read more from me I might make some more later.

I wrote this currently (aka 1 am) because I had the idea for a while and just said screw it I’ll write it instead of drawing it while I’m working on other things. So if punctuation or spelling is wrong I’m too tired to rewrite them right now.

This story stars a young Eggman (Julian) and Chuck making their breakthrough on the Robotizer! But Chuck seems to be uneasy about something going on with Julian.

Now without further ado~

Sonic Genesis: The Beginning of the End

It is a cool autumn night, fog covers a small town just outside a grand city settling on the coastline. Bells ring out, letting the sleeping citizens know that it is now midnight. A light teal-blue hedgehog is at his desk scribbling away at blueprints and other documents. He rubs his temple, annoyed by the loud clangs of the bells giving him a headache. He knows he should be asleep by now, but he is so close to finishing his projects and rather not lose his motivation. He goes back to his papers and refocuses on the numbers and ideas in his head.

*BRRRRRRRRINNNNG*

“GREAT GAIA WHAT NOW?!”

The hedgehog shouts as he slams his pencil down onto the crowded desk. His phone finally broke his concentration and makes his anger rise. He snaps out of his frustration when a loud thump came from the next room over.

“SHUT UP CHUCK! IM TRYING TO SLEEP AND YOU SHOULD TO!”

His little sister, Aleena screamed, ready to bust down the wall to stop him. Chuck mumbles under his breath as he goes to check his phone. To his surprise and delight, it is his good friend Julian!

“Julian! Is that you? It’s been forever since we’ve talked! You need to warn me next time you disappear like that.”

“Chuck, I need you at the laboratory as soon as possible. It is important and you cannot tell anyone where you are going.”

Chuck paused for a moment, Julian has been gone for almost four months. Why on Mobius would he contact him now, especially at this time of night?

“Is everything okay? Why do you need me over there?” Chuck asked worryingly.

“It’s about the Robotizer, I’ve made a breakthrough! I just need you to come over and help me work on it while I rest. My eyes are stinging like hell right now.”

Before Chuck could ask if he needed medical aid, Julian had already hung up the phone. Chuck stood there for a moment in silence, his mind racing. They have been working on the Robotizer for almost five years now, has he finally done it? Has Julian successfully managed to get it working? While these thoughts were buzzing around in his mind, Chuck was scrambling around grabbing papers and tools as fast as he could. He burst through into the garage and hopped onto his motorcycle, driving into the darkness.

When Chuck arrived at Julian’s personal laboratory, he could immediately tell something was wrong. The foliage around the building were over grown, the windows were covered in what seems to be tarp from the inside. Julian has been known to go for long periods of time working and creating inventions, but never to the point of neglecting himself and things around him. Chuck tried opening the front door to learn that Julian had changed the lock. Suddenly, a chain crashed down onto the concrete driveway inches away from Chuck causing him to fall over.

“Chuck, this is our secret. Climb up before anyone sees you”

whispered Julian, coming from the second floor. Before ascending the chain Chuck paused for a moment. Something didn’t feel right at all, what would be waiting for him up above? Is Julian in a right state of mind from being isolated for a while? Chuck shook his head, trying to calm his nerves. He’s known Julian for almost ten years now, and if Julian isn’t in a good position, he needs to be there for his friend. Chuck put the file of paperwork between his teeth and began to climb the chain. Reaching the window, Chuck could see that even the rooms inside the building were being neglected. Papers and trash thrown about, equations and notes scribbled all over the chalk board, only a few small lights were illuminating the room. In the dim glow of the lights, Chuck could make out the silhouette of Julian.

“Julian….what happened here? Are you alright?”

Chuck gently spoke as the struggled to climb through the window. Julian stood up and walked over to the hedgehog gripping at the windowsill and picked him up as if he was lighter than air. He set him down and crouched to get to eye level with Chuck. The first thing Chuck noticed was the hair on Julian’s head was carelessly shaved off, with a few bloody stitches replacing what was there before. Julian looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in forever, his eyes were covered by a small pair of dark goggles that seemed to be warning Chuck not to do anything stupid.

“We did it, we finally did it.”

Julian sighed. He stood up and walked slowly to his work table as if he were in a daze.

“Listen, it’s wonderful that you got the Robotizer working, but we need to get you to the hospital. The scars on your head aren’t looking to good and-“

Chuck was interrupted by Julian’s joyful yet menacing laugh. He turned back towards Chuck, a tooth baring grin stretched across his face.

“Chuck, we are doctors, I’m positive I know what I’m doing when it comes to stitches and such.”

“But we’re not those kind of doctors! How’d you get them anyways? What happened here?”

Julian reached behind him and picked up a small device off from the table. The Beta Robotizer, a small machine that can turn any flesh and blood into metal and data. It is small enough to fit your hand or even a small creature such as a mouse. Julian beckoned Chuck to come closer as he once again crouched to make sure he speaks to him face to face. Cautiously, Chuck walked over to Julian and pulled up a stool, waiting for Julian to explain himself.

“I apologize for not contacting you for so long. I just didn’t want to risk anyone else figuring out what we’re doing. But I believe I made enough security measures for us to finally get back to work.”

“I see…. Now about the stitches.”

“Ah yes, don’t worry about them. While testing the Robotizer I fell and busted my head open on the counter. But it was worth it in the long run, the Robotizer is a success and we need to begin working on a bigger one.”

Chuck smiled softly, knowing that his friend seemed to be okay. Exhausted and a bit delirious, but okay. However, a question came across Chuck’s mind that filled him with dread. As much as he knew he’d probably hate the answer, he just had to ask:

“Julian, you said you were testing the Robotizer, and even said it worked. But…. But what did you test it on exactly?”

Julian’s grin began to creep up on his face again, softly chuckling to himself as the reached up towards the back of his head to unclip the goggles that were covering his eyes. Chuck jumped back and fell off the stool in pure fear and shock after as Julian’s chuckle turned into a hardy laugh.

“YOUR EYES?!? ARE YOU INSANE?! This is a prototype! If something went wrong you could’ve went blind or worse!” Chuck yelled in frustration.

Julian’s eyes, now just black cameras with red lenses replacing his pupils and sclera followed Chuck’s movements, creating a whirring sound at every gaze. Bright red nerves had appeared around the sockets, as well as bruising that was slowly swelling and leaking a strange oil-like liquid.

“My vision has never been more clear, I haven’t even been using much light because I can now clearly see in the dark! They save me time and energy when working. Chuck, imagine what we could do with this, if we built a bigger one to fully robotize someone, we can change the world as we know it!”

Julian stood up and began to shuffle through the papers Chuck had brought. Chuck just sat in silence, not knowing what to say about the matter. He was very happy that their project had worked, but seeing Julian’s eyes and how they function, it filled him with a sense of unease.

“I’m glad that you were still working on the project while I was gone. All this new info and changes can help us a lot in the process.” Julian said as he put them back into the file.

He turned to Chuck and noticed that he looked like he was looking unwell, almost as if he was going to be sick. Julian sighed and placed a hand on Chuck’s head, petting him while making sure not to prick his fingers on his quills.

“Look, when we finally complete the main Robotizer, we will look back knowing that it was worth it. Tell you what, instead of working on it like I asked you tonight, go ahead and go home to rest. Come back this weekend and we can get started.”

Chuck glanced up at him, Julian was giving him a gentle smile, but his metal eyes glared back with no emotion or concern.

“Yeah…. It’s late anyways and I have work tomorrow.”

Chuck says as he begins reach for his papers, only to be interrupted by Julian slamming his hand on the files.

“Don’t worry about all that stuff right now.” Julian said guiding Chuck to the window.

“Right now you need to rest and get your mind at ease so we can get back to work. You have a good night, I’ll call you later tomorrow to check on you.”

Chuck lowered himself gently to the ground, barely breaking the silence of the woods around him. He sat there for a moment, wondering why Julian would do such a thing to himself. And why a bigger Robotizer? The plan was to make small ones to help in medical procedures. There was no real need to rush things right now. Chuck sighed, hopefully this will pass over him and it will all be worth it in the end. As he hoped on to his motorcycle and drove down the path, he peered over his shoulder towards the window in the laboratory. Where he could see the red eyes of his friend shining through the glass.

[sammyjhand]

Autumn

Written for @wolfstarmicrofic Sept 7... I haven’t had time to do one of these in a while. This is a little college aged marauders AU

James takes a long pull from the joint, batting away Sirius’ hand lazily as he tries to snag it back. 

“The saying is ‘puff, puff, pass’, James. Not ‘puff, puff, puff, keep puffing until Sirius is pissed off, pass’,” Sirius heckles, wrangling the joint from James’ fingers into his own. 

James sits up, hands propping himself up in the cool grass. He sticks his tongue out at Sirius who rolls his eyes in response. 

“You’re particularly annoying tonight,” James comments casually, ripping a blade of grass from the ground. “Care to share why?”

Sirius grumbles, pressing a spit-wet finger around the tip of the joint to stop it from burning too fast. “Not being annoying,” he huffs. 

James peers past Sirius, to the cottage that he and their friends rented off Airbnb as a getaway from the city. The weather had just began to turn, a slight chill now present in the air. The boys (plus Lily and Co.) felt it necessary to escape to the countryside for a long weekend to appreciate the beautiful change of season. 

The soft, warm light shines from inside the cottage, Remus and Lily just visible through the kitchen window. Remus says something out of the side of his mouth, and Lily puts a hand on her abdomen as she laughs. They’re baking a pie of sorts; Sirius and James can’t be arsed, because who the hell knows how to bake a pie?

Sirius follows James’ line of sight and sighs, deep and heavy as Remus joins her laughter. They watch silently through the window, joint burning quick between Sirius’ fingers.

“Oh, mate. You’ve got it bad.”

The weekend passes quickly, and with many longing stares and sighs out of Sirius Black himself. James has half a mind to shove Remus and Sirius into a broom closet and force them upon each other, but they’re already sharing a bedroom, and if that hasn’t do the trick then the broom closet probably won’t work either.

The night before it’s time to head back to dreary, bleary London, it’s Sirius and Remus who sit in the grass behind the cottage. They pass a joint back and forth before laying down, close enough that Sirius can feel the warmth radiating from Remus beside him. 

“I don’t want to go back,” whispers Remus. Sirius turns his head to the side, taking in the way Remus’ eyes are closed, face tilted toward the twilight sky. 

“Why’s that? You love uni, you big bookish nerd,” Sirius teases. A light smile graces Remus’ mouth before his eyebrows turn down slightly again. 

“Because it’s autumn.”

Sirius puzzles. “Autumn is the best, though? Sweaters without coats, being cool but not cold, the color of the leaves? Everything looks warm in autumn. Everywhere feels like home in autumn,” Sirius comments, struck deep with a pang when he realizes. 

Remus is autumn. 

“Yeah, but autumn is fleeting. It goes as fast as it comes. Everyone says autumn is their favorite season, but it’s really the shortest. It gives you a taste of just how romantic life can be before ripping it away,” Remus sighs dreamily. “Then it’s cold and miserable for months. Autumn,” Remus states clearly. “Is a tease.”

Maybe it’s the weed. Maybe it’s the romance of that exact moment. Maybe it’s the fact that Sirius feels drunk when he gets this side of Remus all to himself.

“That’s you,” he says, not looking at Remus but feeling it as the boy turns his head to take in Sirius this time. 

“What?”

“You’re autumn.”

“How?”

Sirius has dug himself in too deep, and he’s so sick of pretending he’s not completely obsessed with Remus that he simply can’t go back to a time before this moment. He’ll go mental if he doesn’t get it out right this moment. 

Sirius sits up and looks down at Remus, who props himself up on his elbows with a furrowed brow in confusion.

“You are autumn. Every time I get close enough to feel your warmth, to feel comfortable enough to relax, you bolt,” he accuses lightly, garnering the beginnings of protests out of Remus who’s clearly surprised by Sirius’ words. 

“You,” he charges on. “Are autumn, because you give me a taste of what it’s like to be near you, to be the only one you share yourself with. You make me feel warm. You make me feel at home. But it’s always fleeting, you always leave too quickly. You, Remus, are a tease!”

Remus is stunned. He looks up at Sirius in awe from where he leans on his elbows, and slowly, a grin takes over his face, pink on his cheeks. 

“Sirius Black,” he breathes. “You’re in love with me,” he says, jokingly accusatory. 

Sirius’ face lights up like a firetruck. 

“What?!” He splutters, neck, cheeks, and ears growing increasingly hot. “That’s not what I said!”

“It’s exactly what you said,” he teases, rising to Sirius’ height. 

When Remus ghosts his lips over Sirius’, he can feel his heartbeat in his ears and his vision goes all swimmy. 

“You’re autumn, too. If I’m your autumn, then you’re mine.”

And as Sirius finds himself being pressed into the cool earth, surrounded by the warmth that is Remus Lupin in a cable knit jumper, he can only think one thing. 

Sirius loves Autumn. 

[starfirette]

shadowhunter boys as boyfriends

GENDER NEUTRAL READER | I didn't put the TLH kids (Matthew, James, etc) because the series isn't over yet and as of right now, they're still, for the most part, on the older teenager side. I'll do a Shadowhunter Girls version soon because I need Jessamine and Emma content

Including the Herondales, Lightwoods, Magnus Bane, Jem Carstairs, The Blackthorns, and Kieran.

Herondale

William Herondale is a protective boyfriend, as well as a loudmouth. He thinks he's the best because he's got you. Probably compares you to the other significant others of his friends, in the sense that you're better than everyone else. "Please, you put so-and-so's outfit to SHAME last night" "Oh, so-and-so couldn't kill a sprite if they tried, you've singlehandedly taken down shax" "will, the shax put me in the hospital..." "who the hell took it down, then?" "that was you, dear" "oh, aha, yes that's right. Well, don't feel too bad about it, love". Please just shut him UP

Jace Herondale is the kind of boyfriend who acts like he's totally independent and doesn't need to spend all his time with you, when, in reality, he feels miserable when you aren't around. "Y/n would love this shirt." Alec would tell him to buy it for you. Jace would scoff. "How corny." Alec would say 'Fine, then don't get it.' Jace would keep talking about it until Alec purchased the shirt himself, forcing Jace to gift it to you. Of course, Jace acts like a cool guy about it. "It just reminded me of you, that's all..."

Lightwood

Gideon Lightwood is the childhood bestfriend to lover. You're the one he confides in about everything. He didn't even realize he'd fallen in love with you until your family was on the verge of marrying you off. Gideon would probably stay quiet, letting you go on with the arranged marriage, until everyone around him finally explained how awful that actually is, and you're probably in love with him, too. Once Jem pointed this out, Gideon practically jumped out the window to get to you. Luckily, Jem was right.

Gabriel Lightwood is the childhood enemy to lover. You're the one he hates, and vehemently swore to never be friends with. Well one summer, your family left for a vacation in Idris. You returned for the Autumnal Equinox, all tan and gorgeous, and Gabriel realized you're actually really hot. It all goes down hill from there. He would definitely have been drawn in by your looks at first--but he DOES fall in love with you for real.

Alec Lightwood would never tell you he likes you ever. He'd rather die than confess his crush. You weren't exactly his best friend, but you were more than an acquaintance. Good luck trying to drop hints that you like him, too, because he's too salty and emo to realize that you'd ever like him back.

Carstairs

Jem Carstairs........how can I possibly explain my love for this man? Jem is a perfect gentleman. Probably coerced into marrying you by Charlotte, for his sake of health and safety of status. She truly wants what's best for Jem. And you're a good match for him!!! In this case, arranged marriage but you two fall in love.

Bane

Oh, to be the lover of Magnus Bane. You probably met him in the most absurd of ways, like a crazy meet cute in a rom com. He spoils you, buys you gifts to win your affection; doesn't accept it when you tell him no more gifts. He just wants love. You two probably elope and forget to tell people until a month or so after it's happened. Maybe even a year later. "By the way, we're having a one year anniversary party and you're invited, Tessa."

"???? What?"

"Oh, haha, yeah, we got married one year ago! So we would like, like, a Kuerig or something."

Kieran Kingson

Kieran just straight up asks you to be his mate one day. It's a strange moment. it's the middle of breakfast, you're exhausted, and Julian won't stop bitching about the iPod you supposedly stole and then lost, when really you just borrowed it and broke it during patrol. Kieran comes in, sits down; he says his good mornings to the family. Then, "Oh, by the way Y/n. I'd like you to come out with me for dinner tonight."

The clatter of the morning stops as everyone pauses and waits to hear your response. He'd apologize in private but extend the invitation a second time. He wouldn't have an issue saying he's attracted to you and even has a crush. He's nice about it, and not at all awkward. You, however, are very awkward.

Blackthorn

Mark Blackthorn adores you. He approaches you in private. He's super dramatic about it, too. You thought he was going to tell you someone was dying. But no, he just thinks you are, in his words, "glowing with beauty". Okay dude. Just kiss me already. You would be the couple that's always making out or going at it. He cannot keep his hands off you.

Julian Blackthorn is the opposite. While he adores you just as much, he's calm and doesn't feel the need to go full throttle into marriage, like his brother would be. Julian wants to have one normal experience in his life. He wants to have a movie worthy relationship, with stolen kisses and first dates and awkward hand holding. He feels so comfortable with you.

[mishapocalyse]

Silent Skies

Chapter 02: "Soldier, Poet, Star Spangled Asshole”

Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben Gilman) x Deaf! Original Character Warnings: Soldier Boy is his own warning, drug use, sexual themes, language, gore, blood, sexual assault, attempted r*ape, suicide, mentions of suicide, self harm, mentions of mental illness—that may be within this fanfiction may be triggering for some.

Do not repost, copy, paste this work or claim this as your own. Reblog instead!

Read at your own risk, enjoy.

Note: Some scenes may be out of canon, and character.

An AU where Soldier Boy gets a second chance to walk free. After his first time out of the box, William Butcher goes back on his word and the Boys put him back into the box.

Seven years later Lightening Bolt, a former member of Payback has him resurface to finish what Butcher couldn’t, however Soldier Boy had to learn how to handle himself in the new world a second time.

Lynyx Foster—was too kind and innocent for the everything’s happening around her. All she wanted was to be happy. Her world is initially turned upside down when she meets a man frozen in time with bad intentions written across his face.

She tried her best to communicate.

He believed she was mocking him.

A couple weeks later…

Soldier Boy seated himself on the chair that Lynnie had set up in the kitchen. On the kitchen table had set several pairs of cutting sheers as well as the electric razor she was busy plugging in.

It had been a couple of weeks and Soldier Boy refused to have her cut his hair or shave him. When she turned back around, she jumped, resting her hand on her chest, a small, little smile forming on her face. Lynnie leaned forward, patting Soldier Boy softly on the shoulder.

"Smells good in here. You been cooking?" He asks and she nods in response. She had made herself breakfast that had been sitting hot on the counter.

Soldier Boy got up, sauntering over to her plate, snatching it up to go back to his chair to eat it. Lynnie shook her head and laughed. He had expected a different reaction. She waved him off while she waited for him to finish. The small exchange that had just happened seemingly dissipated while the two sat in the silence of the morning.

'You done?'

Soldier Boy tilted his head.

"Now you fucking know I can't understand you, right? But you still insist on doing your hand thing. Write it the fuck down or something." He hissed.

What he didn't expect was a firm smack against the back of his head.

He dropped the plate onto the ground as it shattered at his feet, he shoved the chair aside, clattering against the floor. He backed Lynnie into the kitchen counter, getting into her face.

"If it wasn't for your little cocksucker friends watching my every move, I'd have hit you like a real man would have. You listen here and you listen fucking good you little cunt. You ever pull a dumbass move like that again, I will fucking ruin you. You hear me?" Lynnie stared at him, unmoving.

Her face blank as she stood there. She could feel his hot breath on her face as she raised her hand to lightly push him back. Lynnie wandered over to pick of the chair Soldier Boy had knocked aside, setting it back up. She glanced over her shoulder at him, pointing and motioning him to come sit down. His face contorted in the most confused way. Finding himself sitting in the chair as Lynnie began to cut and shave him.

The two parted ways, Lynnie getting ready for the day as she had finished up with dressing, skipping down the steps, her bare feet landing on the hardwood floor below. She wore a large red sweater with a caramel-colored overall dress.

Walking by the mirror on the way to her office she stopped to look at herself. Her smile never faltered, her cheeks a rosy glow, the abundance of curls shaping her face that made her glow.

Lynnie pushed open the double doors, revealing her office nook. The large glass window displaying the rainy autumn day. The mixture of colored leaves blowing around while it poured, made her crave a bit of tea. That could wait. She had work to do.

Sitting down at her desk she pulled out her textbooks, starting up her computer. Signing into her school account to go over the assignments that she needed to complete before the end of the week.

She would initially work on them today, that way she could easily have some time to herself, avoiding any chance of procrastination.

The lesson, assignment and the project were all over conducting an autopsy to further a hypothetical case. Lynnie had been in the middle of taking notes, helping her for later when she would have to break the steps down to put into her project as well as her presentation.

Her notes were long, jargon filled, in a way she could understand it. She found herself lost in her notetaking, almost filling twelve pages of notes in under an hour. The lesson had been extremely long, with 57-minute lectures, a few 2-hour videos explaining the autopsy process, and another explained the roles of a forensic pathologist.

"What the fuck is that thing?" Lynnie practically flew three feet into the air. She turned her attention to Soldier Boy who was standing a couple of feet from her desk.

She looked at him in disbelief. Knowing that she would only end up pissing him off again she opened up a text document, she typed into the word doc.

Computer.

He squinted, "Them fucking things came a long way, I guess. You got all that new shit too? That wee fee, blue shit and what-not?" Lynnie sighed. Quickly typing away in the word document still open.

I do. It's a shame you weren't around at the start of the internet. You would have loved it. I'm kind of busy right now. We can talk more about it later. Also, sorry for hitting you this morning. I was joking.

Lynnie watched Soldier Boy squint his eyes again, as they flicked over to her. Then he looked down at her scattered papers, textbooks and notes.

"You a college girl or something?" He asked and she nods.

Soldier Boy snorts, sliding her textbook closer and flipping through it. His eyes widened in surprise.

"The fuck you studying? A lil' lady like you shouldn't be into this kind of fucked up shit. All these big words will make you into a prude." He said pushing the book back into place.

Lynnie giggled, her fingers racing over the keys of her keyboard.

Forensic Pathology. I am getting my Master's in Forensic Science.

Lynnie points to the wall behind her as it held her Bachelor's in Criminal Justice and the other in Criminal Psychology. Soldier Boy took a closer look and snorted.

"Gotta' be shitting me." He shook his head as Lynnie typed a little more.

I double majored.

"Yeah I can see that.” He states, sitting on the corner of Lynnie’s desk.

He watches her as she goes back to writing notes.

“You almost finished?” He questions, reaching down to fiddle with the pen she’s holding.

Lynnie tugs her pen from his grip, gently letting it rest on top of her notes—she then goes to type.

I am now.

“Fucking finally. I’m bored. What do you have around here that won’t make me eat a bullet?” Lynnie winces at Soldier Boys words. She slides in her chair, with Soldier Boy in tow behind her.

“This has to be the most dumbest fucking shit I have ever played. What the fuck is this game?” He spat, putting a yellow token into the blue slotted plastic.

Lynnie raised the box again, and tapped on it. He plucked it out of her hands and threw it across the room where it hit the wall. She stifled a laugh, which earned a glare from Soldier Boy. He reached out to open the slot and watched as all the red and yellow token coins fell out. Lynnie tossed up her hands in defeat.

“This game is shit. What else do you have?” Lynnie shrugged. Pointing to the closet where she had gotten the Connect Four out.

Soldier Boy groaned, as Lynnie rolled her eyes looking down at her phone for the time. She looked back up at him, and put her face in her hands. Taking her phone back out she typed into the notes.

Want to go for a drive? You need stuff for here.

Soldier boy snatched the IPhone from her looking at the message, handing it back to her.

“I can’t. I’ll get fucking caught instantly.” He says.

Lynnie slowly nods her head. She gets up and runs upstairs, leaving him alone for only a couple minutes. Returning with a bundle of clothes in her arms. A pair of fresh sweats and a large hoodie with “Let’s Get Electric” with a large picture of Bolt’s face and emblem plastered on the front of it.

She hands it forward and he groans in protest. Sliding the hoodie over his head and motioning for her to turn around so he could put on the sweats that were also a bit too big and sagged on his hips. Soldier Boy walked around her and stood while she had gotten up herself.

Dragging her purse over her shoulder she flipped through it, pulling out possibly the most girliest pair of sunglasses he’d ever seen.

“I’m not fucking wearing those pussy glasses.” He sneered. Lynnie shakes her head quickly, pushing them onto his face. Another loud groan erupted from him.

Lynnie smiles, taking his hand, the two heading for the door while Soldier Boy snags his boots and socks, treading barefoot out onto the porch.

Lynnie shut the car door, Soldier Boy still sitting in the front seat. She went to his side, tapping on the window.

He rolls it down, "I'm not going in. I will draw too much fucking attention."

Lynnie rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone to type on it.

Tell me size.

"Eight inches." He says. She pulls back her phone to type.

Your clothes and shoe size.

"Large in most things, pants are size 32, shoe size is an 11." He watched her type all of it into her phone, then hand it to him. He looked at the screen and the keyboard pulled up.

Write down what you want. I will pick it up for you.

He taps slowly on the screen for a good ten minutes before he hands the phone off to her. she takes a look, gives a nod and walks off. Soldier Boy watched as Lynnie made her way into the store. However, there was a feeling in his chest where he believed she would be in there, giving him away. Just like his team, Payback.

The memories of them flashed before his eyes. Lightning Bolt joining, Nicaragua, Couze. His heart ached knowing he would never see them again. Bolt was making sure of that.

That was their deal: Kill Homelander and he would walk free. No other option. The first failed attempt made clear of that. When he was released the first time, he had tried to go after Payback, almost succeeding if it wasn't for Butcher and the others. He remembered how difficult it was for them to get him to go down.

Soldier Boy let out a sigh, leaning his head up against the window. It was hard telling what his old team would do if they knew he was still alive--most definitely kill him for sure. Throw him under the bus?

Who knew.

In the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar color scheme of the fuck he was supposed to end seven years ago. The man had landed at the very store that deaf girl was in. A small crowd of people forming as he entered the store, pushing through people who had flanked him for his autograph. Soldier Boy kept his attention trained on the man as he entered the store, knowing that if he wanted to remain hidden, he would stay in the woman's car and wait for her to return.

Lynnie was finishing up at the checkout, bagging up the remaining items into the reusable bags they had instead of the regular plastic ones most stores had. She dug through her purse, trying to find her wallet, this happened quite often, and she had hoped she did not forget it at home. "You alright there, ma'am?" A voice called to her.

She nodded a yes, pointing to her purse as she retrieved her wallet, moving to pay. The man behind her she saw was looking at her as she did so. He was a superhero, dressed in America's colors with a flag for a cape. She knew him from the many news articles, commercials, everything that PR could get his face on. If she recalled his name was Homelander and that Bolt hated to talk about him. All she saw now was a man smiling down at her as she paid. Once she was done, she had waved, pushing the cart towards the exit, and out of the store.

She opened the trunk of her vehicle, beginning to load the groceries in, when Soldier Boy spoke up.

"What took you so long?" He asked. She pointed to the many bags she had been loading in.

"If you took longer than that I was going to leave your little ass here." He adds.

She doesn't answer.

"Do you need help, ma'am? That is a lot of bags for one person." A shock of tingles ran up her spine as she turned around to find Homelander standing directly behind her. Soldier Boy, with his glasses on and his hood pulled over his head, glared at him, trying so hard not to get out and start anything.

Lynnie had signed to him quickly, only for his eyes to widen.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand." Homelander responds.

The way he talks was fake and Soldier Boy knew that. He knew how that son of a bitch really was. Lynnie pointed to her ears which got the message across.

"You're deaf, here, let me help load these for you, sweetheart." Homelander had moved past her, loading her bags into the car with a speed she had never seen. All the while Homelander ogled the man in the front seat who wasn't at all helping. Stepping back to close her trunk he gave her a thumbs up, which she laughed and motioned a quick thank you, before returning her cart to the carousel and watching Homelander slowly leave.

It had been a weird day.

And all Lynnie wanted to do was get home.

She shut the car door with a firm slam, snapping her head to Soldier Boy. She handed him her phone, a new message for him to read.

That was really weird.

"He was clearly eye-fucking you, doll." She winced at that nickname, which earned a weird look from Soldier Boy.

I need a nap. I'll make chili later and show you my collection of movies.

He remained silent, putting her phone in the cup holder and gazing back out the window, Lynnie sighed, reaching out to pat her company on the shoulder, before pulling out of the parking lot; back onto the road.

The same as it was, the drive back to the house was excruciatingly quiet. Lynnie worried she might have done something wrong to warrant Soldier Boy's silent treatment. She had pulled into the driveway, and before she could fully pull to a stop, Soldier Boy had abruptly got out, and slammed the door. Lynnie raised a brow, parking and getting out herself to hopefully get an answer as to why he was acting the way he was. She caught up to him, before seeing Bolt and Butcher, and William's esteemed group of friends were standing on the porch.

“As much as I’d like to fucking chat all day like a bunch of knitting pussies’, I want to fucking take a shower and get a few bennies in me.” Soldier Boy sneered, however Bolt blocked his path.

“Move, Sparky.” The firm grip on his shoulder said otherwise.

“It’s your fucking lucky day, Soldier Boy. Guess Vought American’s Stan Edgar heard you made another comeback and wants to crack a deal. He’s got a meat puppet, Ashley Barrett who is the new CEO, wants to bring back Payback. Thinks it’ll be a nice nostalgic experience. Here’s the catch-“ Soldier Boy shoved Bolt out of the way.

“Fuck off. I’m not doing it. I said I’d kill Homelander so you all get get off my dick. I’m not here trying to suck any.” He spat.

“You’ll be in the upper 98% in a matter of days. Everything would be the same as it was 47 years ago. You could get back with Countess. Have me and Gunpowder as your sidekicks again. The pay would be astronomical.” Bolt added as to which Soldier Boy had stopped. His back turned to listen.

“What do I have to do?” Soldier Boy asked.

Bolt smiled.

“Let me handle that. I suggest you get your shit together.” He then looked to Lynnie who stared at him, a sad expression on her face.

Soldier Boy’s eyes traveled to Lynnie who stared at Bolt with those sad eyes.

“What about deaf girl? Thought you wanted her to teach me all about the new life?” Bolt pointed a finger in his direction.

“She will still be doing that. Lynnie will go with you. I’m sure her sisters wouldn’t mind. Think of it as an extra paid vacation, with benefits beyond your wildest dreams.” Bolt smirked, resting an arm around Lynnie’s shoulders.

Soldier Boy took a moment to consider his options.

“When do I start?” He asks.

“Again, let me get all that figured out while you rest and relax with my best girl.” Bolt motions towards Lynnie whom he still hand an arm around.

Is what you’re doing the right thing?

Soldier Boy stared at the message, sitting in front of Lynnie on the floor of her living room. A bowl of chili resting on his thigh.

“There’s really not a choice in the matter. Sparky hasn’t fucking told you about me?” He searches her face for a lie.

No. Sadly, I don’t know much about what’s going on. Bolt and I became friends after I ran into him one day on campus. That was two years ago. I don’t know much about him. All I know is he’s sweet, really cares about me and that he’s a superhero.

“Figures. Sweetheart, you are in way over your head.” He chuckles, reaching to take another bite of his food.

Tell me about it. I’m worried of it myself.

Soldier Boy snorts, "Gotta' hand it to you, for knowing you only a couple weeks, you have me baffled. You are way too fucking goody good to be around pricks like Bolt, or me. People out there will eat you up and spit you out if you aren't careful."

Lynnie takes a moment to write something in her phone and slides it over to him.

You would be surprised about some of the things you find out about people. Those people you're talking about? They saved my life. I wouldn't be here helping others if it wasn't for them.

Soldier Boy huffs, shoveling another hefty spoonful of chili into his mouth.

"I don't really give a fuck about your life story. Sparky put you with me so that I can function better in this new society or whatever the fuck he calls it. Soon, you won't have to do this shit anymore." Soldier Boy said aloud. Lynnie furrowed her brows, as she typed something, then held it out in front of his face.

I really wish you would let me get to know you.

Lynnie pulled back her phone, getting up with her bowl, setting it into the sink, and slowly making her way upstairs. She stopped on the second step, clearing her throat.

"Good---night. Y--ou b--utt." She sounds out, retreating up the stairs and into the comfort of her own room, leaving Soldier Boy to his own devices.

—————

Taglist:

@xxemoluverxx

@sl33pylilbunny

[loki--fics]

Hey !!! I love your writing !!! Could I possibly request a super fluffy like wedding day where both you and Loki are nervous but it all goes away when you see each other and a wee lil bit of smut at the end? Totally cool if not !!! ✨💜

sorry this took so long, this was by far my longest oneshot! i wanted to fit in as much detail as possible, though i was tempted to turn this into a series as well haha. thank you for the request though, and feel free to ask for more :)) i hope you enjoy!

~

Loki's Bride

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,668

Content Warnings: fluff, lots of smut at the end

~

It was late afternoon, the warm sun guarding against the chill of the autumn breeze. You sat in front of the window, your eyes closed as a handmaiden worked on your makeup, another one standing behind you working on your hair. They had been doing this for what felt like ages, but you didn't mind; it took your mind off of how nervous you were. But then, you had reason to be nervous - today was your wedding day.

The crisp breeze wafted in from the open window, caressing your skin like a whisper, but you could barely feel it over the cold pricks of anxiety. You and Frigga had been planning this day for months now, and throughout the months you had been excited, but now that the day was here, you were nervous.

"It is time for the dress, Lady Y/N," Said the handmaiden who did your hair. You recalled her stating that her name was Ingrid, and the other maiden was named Eira.

Nodding, you stood and walked with Ingrid to the wardrobe, from which she grabbed a large garment bag.

"Her Majesty had this dress made for you," Eira said happily as Ingrid unzipped the bag. You were met by the most beautiful dress you had ever seen, a creamy off-white number with off the shoulder sleeves and intricate gold lacing, the skirt wide and puffy with a short train. Its beauty was almost unreal.

"It's gorgeous," You said, your fingers brushing the fabric.

Eira slipped your robe off of your shoulders, placing it on the bed as Ingrid helped you carefully step into the dress. As she zipped up the back, it hugged your waist and bosom snugly, but not uncomfortably tight. It was a perfect fit, as were the shoes and the waist belt for the dagger ceremony.

"This is amazing," You breathed, smoothing out the dress. It felt as though you had been transported into a faerie tale, with the dress, the handmaidens, the stunning view you had from your window, and the fact that you were marrying a prince.. You were afraid it was too good to be true.

A knock sounded at the door, and Eria walked over to answer it. "Your Majesty!" She said, bowing. "I was wondering when you would arrive, we've just finished getting Y/N into her dress."

Your eyes met Frigga's as she walked into the room, ever the epitome of grace. "Dearest Y/N, you look beautiful!" She said happily, her eyes trailing over you.

"Thank you," You replied, bowing slightly. "The dress.. I'm not sure how I could ever thank you for it, it's perfect."

Frigga waved you off. "I assure you no thanks are needed." It was then that you noticed the square, velvet box in her hands, and she followed your eyes downward. "Oh, yes. This is for you as well, dear." She opened it, and resting inside was a beautiful gold circlet with emeralds and diamonds inlaid, delicately woven to resemble leaves.

"Oh, Frigga, you shouldn't have," You said, feeling tears well up in your eyes. "I couldn't possibly accept this!"

"You can, and you will," She said gently, removing the circlet from the box. Gently clasping it at the back of your head, she turned you toward the mirror. "Go look."

Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Never in your life had you looked so beautiful, you were sure of it; your skin had a dewey glow, your hair was left down and curled simply, with intricate braids on either side of your head connecting in the back, the circlet pulling the whole look together. You truly looked like royalty.

The thought still nagged, however, that this was all too good to be true. Turning away from the mirror with a sigh, you took a seat in front of the window once more.

"Is there something troubling you?" Frigga asked, shooing the handmaidens out of the room and taking a seat on the wooden bench next to you, her eyes alight with worry.

"This seems too good to be true," You admitted. "What if Loki realises that he's making a mistake, or he realises he doesn't love me anymore? I'm only a mortal, and he's going to live on far longer after I've gone from this world."

Placing her hand over yours, she spoke. "I know my son, Y/N, and I can see from the way he looks at you how deeply he loves you. Please trust that all will be well."

"He's going to have to watch me grow old and sick and die, while he stays perfect," You voiced. You had realised this quite some time ago, but hadn't let yourself truly come to terms with it until now, and you felt yourself begin to panic. "I'm going to die centuries before him, and then he'll remarry, and-"

"Y/N!" Frigga said, snapping you out of your ramblings. "Do not think of such things. Focus your mind on the love you hold for him, and the love he holds for you; a love as true and pure as yours does not happen often, believe that Loki will not allow anything to happen to you."

"Your Majesty," Ingrid spoke from the doorway. "It's time."

As the two of you stood, Frigga wrapped her arms around you in a warm embrace. "Focus on your love for him," She repeated in your ear. "All will be well, I promise."

~time skip~

All too soon, you stood facing the doors that led out into the garden, where the wedding was taking place. Thor was at your side, your arm looped through his as the two of you waited for the music to start, your cue to walk down the aisle.

"What if I forget my vows?" You asked frantically. "What am I supposed to do then?"

Thor chuckled, patting your hand. "Lady Y/N, you have been studying your vows for weeks, I have good faith that you will not forget them. However, if you do, simply speak from your heart."

You heard the low sound of the music begin, and that meant there was only a moment before the doors would open and you would face the people of Asgard and the Allfather, and you felt your heart race. "Please don't let me fall," You whispered.

"Never," Thor whispered back, squeezing your hand. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders as the doors opened.

It took only a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light, and almost immediately you spotted Loki. As you and Thor began walking slowly, you watched Loki's eyes widen as he looked at you, his lips parting slightly as a blush rose to his cheeks. You saw nothing but love in his eyes, and you smiled as your own eyes took him in, looking handsome as ever in the Asgardian leather suit he so prided himself on.

Looking down, you saw that the white carpet that stretched from the doors to the altar was sprinkled with beautiful red bougainvillea flowers, which you'd requested as soon as you'd discovered that they were Loki's favourite. He noticed this as well, looking down at the flowers and giving you a small smile.

There were hundreds of people in attendance, most of them being residents of Asgard, many of whom you had yet to meet, all standing with their eyes on you. You saw many happy smiles, but also caught a few jealous stares from some of the women, and flushed. Continuing your slow steps, you focused your gaze back on the handsome groom waiting for you.

As you neared the altar, you spotted your team - your family, standing in the front rows greeting you with wide smiles. When you had first told them about your relationship with Loki, a year and a half after he'd returned to New York to gain pardon from the people of Earth, and six months after your relationship had begun, they were understandably shocked. But through your time spent with him, he had shown you a softer, gentler side to him, one that they had not yet seen. An even bigger shock came when Loki had proposed to you in front of everyone at the New Year's Eve party that Tony had thrown, but now, they expressed nothing but happiness for the two of you.

You felt your heart swell as you looked at them, even more so as you looked back at Loki, and it took everything in you not to pick up your dress, run to your groom, and throw yourself into his arms. This was everything you had dreamt of and more since he proposed to you eight months ago, and you wanted to laugh at yourself for being so nervous. How could you have thought, even for a second, that he would just stop loving you?

Thor pulled his arm out of yours, placing his hand on your shoulder and smiling as he took his place with the rest of the team in the front row. You picked up your dress and walked up the steps of the beautiful stone gazebo, decorated with bright, beautiful flowers and leaves, taking your place across from him.

"You are stunning, my love," Loki said quietly, his blue eyes gazing into your e/c ones as he took your hands.

"As are you," You replied, squeezing his hands. "I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Nor can I."

The music quieted as Odin stepped in front of the two of you and raised his hands, cueing everyone to take their seats.

"Good evening, people of Asgard and guests." Lowering his hands, he continued. "Today, we have taken ourselves out of our usual routines of daily living to witness the union between Loki of Asgard, and Y/N of Midguard." He gestured to each of you respectively. "As Loki and Y/N prepared for the ceremony, they took time to reflect upon what it is they love in the other, and they will now state these vows, starting with the groom."

Loki smiled at you lovingly. "I, Loki of Asgard, by the life and seidr that flows through my blood and the love that resides for you within my heart, take you by my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. There is not a moment where you do not take my breath away, and I will never seek to change you in any way. I will trust and respect you as your own person and realise that your needs are no more important than my own.

"I hereby promise to love you wholly and completely, without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in this life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I will grow along with you and I am willing to face change with you. I will always respect you, your beliefs, your people and your ways as I respect myself, as I am your partner and we shall be equal in all things.

"I cannot begin to describe how happy I am to have won the joy of such a consort, and I will forever delight in the love of you. I will cherish each tear to fall from your eyes, both in sadness and in joy, and I will do my best to ensure you are safe and secure, and to honour the love you have for me. To find someone as special as you, out of all in the Nine Realms, is something I never imagined possible. Today, Y/N, I give myself to you and vow to love you eternally."

You couldn't stop the tears that welled up in your eyes as he finished, looking at you with such love and adoration you had to restrain yourself from kissing him then.

"And now, the bride will state her vows," Odin said.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Loki's hands. "I, Y/N of Midguard, by the life that flows through my blood and the love that resides for you in my heart, take you by my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. I promise to love you when you are confident in yourself, as well as when you cannot bear your own reflection. I will love you when all is perfect, and when it seems all is falling apart. I promise to never judge you, nor your feelings, and to listen to you always, even when it's hard.

"From the moment our paths crossed you have surprised me, distracted me, captivated me, and challenged me in a way that no one ever has. I have fallen in love with you countless times, again and again, without reservation, and I still cannot believe that I am allowed the honour of being your bride.

"Whilst I cannot promise that dark clouds will never hover over our lives, or that the future will bring us many rainbows, I can promise that regardless of what lies ahead I will be by your side through all of it. You have my everlasting devotion, my loyalty, my respect, and my unconditional love.

"You are what makes my life a joy to live, and I vow to cherish every moment that I get to spend in your company. I would, on no uncertain terms, do anything for you. I will always choose you, in this life and every one beyond, in any world, and in any version of reality, I will find and choose you. Today, Loki, I give myself to you and vow to love you eternally."

"Now," The Allfather said after a beat of silence, "The couple will now exchange their handmade daggers."

The two of you released each other's hands, and you turned behind you to receive the dagger that you had made for Loki from Frigga. At the same time, Loki had turned to Odin for the dagger he made for you. Turning back to each other, you each held up your daggers, then Loki leaned toward you and placed the dagger into your waist belt, and once he was finished you repeated his actions, placing your dagger into his waist belt.

"Present your rings," Odin said, and both of you complied.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love everlasting," Loki said as he slid the ring onto your finger.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love everlasting," You repeated, sliding the ring onto his finger.

Odin spoke once more. "Loki of Asgard, and Y/N of Midguard, today you celebrate one of life's greatest moments and give recognition to the worth and beauty of love. As you have stated your vows with your lips, so you shall seal them with your lips."

Throwing your arms around your now husband, you pressed your lips to his with such force it was as though you had been starved of his kiss for years. The thundering applause and shrill cheers seemed to fade away as you kissed Loki, your fingers tangling in his jet black hair as his hands wrapped around your waist and lifted you, spinning you in a circle.

Setting you back down, Loki broke the kiss, leaning his head against yours and looking at you longingly. "I love you so very much, Y/N," He whispered with a smile.

"I love you, too, Loki," You whispered back, feeling happier than you had ever thought possible.

~time skip~

After you had changed out of your wedding dress into your reception dress, you and Loki enjoyed the festivities and feast for a while, dancing in merriment with everyone until Loki had pulled you aside.

"I need to speak with you," He said lowly, leading you over to the balcony. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, and Loki shut the doors, presenting you with a black box.

"What is this?" You asked, confused.

"I have one last proposal to make," He said, getting down on one knee. "If you truly wish to spend forever with me," Opening the box, a single apple that appeared to be made of gold rested inside, "All you need do is eat this apple."

Your throat felt tight as you looked at the apple. "Loki…"

"This is an Apple of Idun, it is what originally granted the Gods and Goddesses immortality, and if you wish, it will grant it for you as well," He explained.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you touched the apple. It was cool, and felt like a normal apple. Frigga's words from earlier when you voiced your fear of dying before Loki poured into your mind and you gasped. "Frigga-?"

"It was her idea," He admitted. "She convinced Idun to spare an apple in the name of love. Do you accept?"

You sank to your knees, putting yourself at the same level as Loki. "Forever?" You asked, searching his eyes.

"Forever," Loki replied sincerely.

Slowly grasping the apple, you considered the weight of what you were about to do. Were you truly ready to give up mortal life, to live for thousands of years like the people of Asgard?

Looking into Loki's blue eyes, full of love and hope, you knew the only answer was yes. For him, you would do anything.

Bringing the apple to your lips, you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh, biting a chunk out and chewing it slowly. It was sweeter than any apple you'd ever eaten on Earth, perfectly ripe with juices trickling down your chin. Taking another bite, you almost moaned at how delicious it was, reveling in the taste. It seemed the apple had no core, no seeds, so it was unable to be replanted, and you were able to eat the entire thing.

You felt something akin to the feeling of your limbs falling asleep, the tingling sensation spreading over the whole of your body. Your vision blurred, and you would have fallen back if Loki had not caught you and laid you in his lap. A strange, out of body feeling overtook you, as though you were hovering over the two of you, the body laying in Loki's lap no longer yours. It was as if the universe had poured a bit of its everlasting essence into your veins, feeling like the purest magic had filled your body. Then, as soon as it started, it was over.

Vision cleared, you looked up at your husband, seeing him much more clearly than you had before. Every strand of hair caught your attention, every wrinkle in his suit, every line in his hands.

"You are breathtaking," You gasped, your eyes wide in awe. "What just happened?"

Loki smiled softly. "You became immortal."

Sitting up, you threw your arms around Loki, and he grunted, your new strength taking him by surprise. "I cannot wait to spend forever with you," You whispered. "I love you so much."

"Nor can I, my love," He whispered back.

~ time skip ~

The two of you had rejoined the festivities, dancing and grazing on the plethora of food, conversing with the people of Asgard and your team, but now it was time for your honeymoon to officially begin.

Grasping your hand, Loki put his lips to your ear. "I do believe it is time we consummate our marriage, my love," He said lowly.

You felt heat blossom in your core, and blushed. Bidding goodnight to your team, you followed Loki out of the room, followed by a chorus of cheers and wolf-whistles. Tonight was the first night you were to be intimate with Loki in such a manner - he had been being watched by Heimdall and the Allfather most of the time the two of you had been dating, so you had only been able to steal kisses here and there. Not the most romantic, but it was better than nothing.

Now, however, as Loki pulled you to his chambers, you felt almost as nervous, if not more so, than you had before the ceremony. No one was watching you now, the two of you were utterly alone.

Loki stopped outside the door to his chambers, turning to you. For a moment you were confused, but then he scooped you up, bridal style, and carried you over the threshold. The door closed with a solid thud behind you as he walked you to his bed, setting you down gently. After the ceremony you had changed into a shorter dress, the hem reaching your mid-thigh, with a white skirt and lace top that wrapped around your neck. Now, Loki eyed it hungrily, wanting it off.

Gently holding the back of your head in his hand, Loki kissed you, laying you down slowly as he hovered above you. His lips claimed yours completely, his tongue swiping along your lower lip. You gasped lightly, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Feeling a familiar tingling sensation, you realised Loki had used his magic to remove the clothing from both of you, leaving you in undergarments, and you blushed, instinctively moving your arms to cover yourself.

Pulling back, Loki met your eyes. "Hear this now. You need never cover yourself in front of me. You are a treasure to behold, my love, and in my eyes, you are nothing short of perfection." His hands gently pried yours away from your body, his eyes relishing the sight. "There is not a single soul in the Nine Realms that I would rather be with right now, and not a single thing in the Nine Realms that could take me away from you. I love you, not only for your body but for your soul, your mind, your heart and your spirit."

He said every word with such sincerity, his eyes showing nothing but love for you, that you could think of only one thing to say.

"Kiss me."

He did, with an intensity that rivaled every other kiss he'd ever given you, including your wedding kiss. It was so filled with passion that you were certain no being in the Nine Realms and beyond had shared such a kiss before, it felt as though the universe itself was bowing from the vehemence of the kiss.

Every inch of your skin that Loki caressed seemed to be set alight, and you were certain that, had you not been holding him, you would have floated away to Valhalla. You felt his hardened member brush the thin lace veil that covered your core, and were unable to quiet the moan that fell from your lips as your hips bucked, desperate for more.

Loki's lips left yours, venturing down your jaw, your neck, your collar, kissing every inch of exposed skin. You were hot and cold all at once, your body nearly vibrating from the force of your arousal as his lips travelled lower, between your breasts, down your stomach, to your thighs. He peppered delicate kisses along the inside of your thighs, looking up at you as his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties.

"Is this okay?" He asked, pausing.

"Oh Gods yes, Loki," You breathed, your chest heaving with the force of your breaths as you met his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, he pulled the thin lace fabric down your hips, tossing them to the side as he took in the sight of your glistening core before him. He pressed two long, dexterous digits against your opening, sliding them inside of you and pumping at an agonisingly slow pace. His head dipped down, lips just barely brushing your sensitive nub, inhaling your sweet, musky odour before pressing a kiss to your core.

"Please, Loki, stop teasing me," You whined, gripping the sheets.

He smirked. "As you wish." With force, he launched an assault with his lips, his tongue expertly swirling around your nub whilst his fingers curled perfectly against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you moaned loudly, fingers tangling in his soft raven locks.

Loki's free hand gripped your thigh so tightly as he devoured you, you were sure it would bruise. He moaned, sending delicious vibrations through your core and your orgasm ripping through you with a force you had never before felt, your body set aflame as his name fell repeatedly like a prayer from your lips.

Pulling his head back, your husband looked at you with dark, lust filled eyes as he brought his fingers, covered with your arousal, to his lips. Slowly, he put them in his mouth, sucking off every bit of your juices before pulling them out and climbing on top of you, pressing a kiss to your lips and allowing you to taste yourself.

"You are sweeter than the finest søt vin," Loki said lowly.

Butterflies were no match for the hurricane that erupted in your stomach. "I want you," You begged softly. "All of you. I'm yours."

With a flick of his wrist, the rest of the clothing was removed from both of you. Your eyes moved down, almost of their own accord, taking in the size of his member. You were no virgin, and you were sure Loki wasn't, either but you had never been with someone of such size and girth, and it would be dishonest to say you weren't intimidated.

"I'll be gentle, love," He said softly, his hand caressing your cheek.

"I trust you," You replied, leaning into his touch.

Kissing you softly, you felt the God position his manhood at your entrance, sinking himself into you slowly. He groaned at your tightness, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he waited for your hole to adjust to his large size. The sensation of being so wholly filled by him was a bit painful, your walls stretching to their limit as they tried to accommodate him, and after a moment you bucked your hips.

Pumping into you slowly, the pain morphed into pleasure as your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to sink deeper into you. He quickened the motions of his hips, the head of his manhood perfectly hitting your g-spot as he thrust into you. Both of you were moaning, your lips roaming each other, hands groping anywhere they could reach as Loki plunged into your opening again and again.

"Please, harder," You moaned, gripping his shoulders.

All too happy to oblige your request, Loki brought his hips to meet yours with such force that you saw stars. Moaning loudly, your nails dug into his skin as he thrust into you harder, his movements growing faster as you both neared your climax.

Wrapping his arms around you, Loki pulled you upright so that you were sitting on his lap, continuing to pound into you as he brought your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before nibbling lightly. Delirious with pleasure, you gripped his hair and pulled, earning a loud moan as his nails raked down your back. He smashed his lips to yours, and you bit his lip so hard it drew blood as your orgasm hit you with even more force than the first, your primal screams of pleasure filling the room as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you, releasing his seed as he shouted obscenities.

After a final few pumps, he pulled out of you, the two of you falling back onto the mattress, limbs entangled and your head on his chest.

"I will never grow tired of that," You giggled, fingers drawing lazy swirls on his pale skin. "This has been the best day of my life."

Loki smiled. "It was mine as well." The two of you were covered in a sheen of sweat, and with a lazy wave of his hand, the window opened and a cool breeze wafted over the two of you.

"I love you," You said sleepily.

"I love you," He replied.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

[cozycryptidcorner]

Avery the Fae/Reader, Lemon

You don’t dress up for Halloween.

Not your fault, though, really, because your professors show no mercy for holidays, especially not ones that don’t land them a day off. Classes go on as usual, and so you wake up the latest you can without risking a tardy and go off in the comfortable clothes you slept in. Except for some cat ears and one superman, everything is perfectly normal, and the day passes like almost every other, save for a ‘spooky drink’ coupon at the local cafe.

I probably don’t even need a costume, anyways, you think as you catch your reflection when passing those special mirror-like windows on one of the campus’ buildings. Frankly, you look like you crawled out of hell itself. Dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep, hair all askew and uncooperative, mouth in a permanent stressed line.

A zombie, probably, you decide, taking a sip of that hot caffeinated mess you ordered from the cafe. A hot zombie, for sure, but a zombie no less. A part of you wants to skip your next class and take a nap, but you’ve already used up your one absence, and you aren’t in a position to risk your grade for sleep. No rest for the wicked, right? Right. Everything else goes as smoothly as can be expected for being sleep deprived, and the night class seems to drag on for a fully stretched eternity, but you are finally free to go home and do your five hours of homework. Maybe if you’re lucky, you can squeeze in two or three hours of sleep.

It’s because you’re tired, you think, stopping for a hot minute when you realize that you’re lost. You hadn’t been paying attention to campus’ many twists and turns in its paths, and so you must have wandered away from the buildings and onto the forest trail that hugs the dorms, except there’s no cement beneath your feet. Not even a dirt trail marks a way out, and you take a full moment to come to terms with being lost, on your own damn campus, no less. You aren’t any kind of simpering pansy, so you turn around and begin to retrace your steps. Which doesn’t work, unfortunately, because after a couple of minutes of walking, there’s nothing to suggest that you’re only a couple of paces from civilization.

Except a drum beat, behind you. It’s faint, probably a half-mile away, but it’s the closest thing you have to a way back, especially since your phone can’t seem to pick up any signal. Maybe one of the school’s many bands are practicing? Right, you’re just going to stumble out into the football field, twigs in your hair, looking very much like you’ve gotten into a fist-fight with the entire forest…

And… Not a band, you realize, stepping into a clearing, but a party.

A costume party, too, by the looks of it, with everyone in soft, flittery clothing and fitted masks. Interesting how everyone seems to be on the same page with the dress code, there’s usually that one dick who shows up in a hotdog suit, regardless of any previous agreements. Elegant is the word you’re looking for, you decide, running into something tall and solider, correction: running into someone tall and solid.

“Oh, hey, sorry,” you apologize, shifting your weight on either foot, “I’m a little lost.”

“I think that you are right where you want to be,” your stranger says, mouth turning up into a strange, fanged smile. His black mask is trimmed with gold, and it doesn’t seem like he’s costuming as anything specific; rather, it appears to be just for anonymity.

“I think I really want to be in bed,” you say, trying to share a mutual we’re in college and want to die of exhaustion moment, but he doesn’t respond with the same energy.

“Perhaps a drink of wine before you go?” He offers, holding out an actual goblet of some kind. Maybe the metal-working students pitched in? Or accepted a particular commissioned order? It looks like genuine gold, which adds to the whole aesthetic of the party.

“Uh,” don’t accept drinks you haven’t seen made, “I’m good for now, really. Just trying to get back home to study.”

“Hm,” he says, taking a good swig from the goblet he had just offered, “good question. Through the trees from whence you came, most likely.”

Of fucking course, he’s drunk and doesn’t know left from right. Great. What an excellent position you’ve put yourself in. Frustrated and confident he wouldn’t roofie himself, you snatch the goblet from his hand and down several large gulps of shockingly sweet wine, maybe a sangria? Or something sugared up to be palatable?

Swirling the goblet around, to seem sophisticated, you ask, “so is this some kind of rich person party? Like an Illuminati meeting or something?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you speak of.”

“Right.” You draw out the single syllable, landing hard on the t. LARPers, probably, but not unattractive ones. Those masks don’t hide everything, and the shape of his jaw is not something to balk at, and those lips? Not to be forward in your own brain or anything, but they’re certainly decent to look at. This has to be some kind of weird-ass club, or like a rich dumbass ritual or something, definitely not your average frat party with a variety of random drugs mixed into the mystery punch. “Do you go to school here?”

He looks down at your university sweatshirt, cocking his head slightly. “A place of learning, is it? No, I’m afraid I have not attended such an institution, but I must admit that I have been tempted.”

“Well,” you take another sip of wine, “it’s not bad, as far as universities go. With decent financial aid, too.”

“Best not to drink too much of that,” your stranger says, “it’s much stronger than it tastes, and it’s best you stay clear-headed for the evening’s festivities.”

“One cup can’t hurt,” you say, and then realize that he’s just volunteered you to join in on the fun. Which is kind of weird, you guess, but then again, you aren’t going to complain. This is a way more interesting place to spend your evening, but might as well prop your backpack underneath one of the tables, hiding it beneath the skirt of the pale white cloth. You eye the unmarked bottle that one of the party-goers holds, but set your goblet down by the expensive-looking chinaware, flexing your fingers as they begin to tingle with the warmness that comes with alcohol. “What’s the party’s theme?”

He cocks his head, as though confused.

“Like a…” you try to think of a different way to phrase it. “A topic you pick, and everyone has to adhere to it. The people here all look like they’re, like, what Victorian thought the fairies looked like or something. I think it’s the clothes.”

“We are Faeries, though,” he says, the sides of his mouth curving upwards.

“Hm,” you say, “of course you are.”

“Join me for this dance?” Your stranger asks instead of any rebuttals, holding out a hand.

You look over at the band that plays, masks of distinct animal-like features flickering in the light of the bonfire roaring in the center of the clearing, all instruments vaguely familiar, yet not. Some of them you think you’ve seen before, at maybe renaissance-themed festivals, but the others must be from some kind of distinctly obscure genre of music.

The heat from the fire seems to lick out at your fingers, or maybe it’s the alcohol, already making its way through your system, but you stare, transfixed, at the way the lyre player plucks at the strings of their instrument. The quick movement plays too much with your eyes, you barely see anything more than the blurs of fingers, and you suddenly realize that you are swaying in place.

“I don’t know how,” you say, snapping out of whatever trance you had been in.

“It’s rather simple, come here,” he takes one of your hands, shockingly not unwelcome. Perhaps the warmth of his skin against yours brings you a kind of peace that you need during this period of your life. “I will teach you.”

Your stranger is correct; the dance is fairly simple to learn, mostly because there are very few rules. Sway your hips. Let your feet bounce against the soft forest floor. Let him spin you around and around until your head almost feels light. You’ll be honest, he’s the one doing all the work, guiding you, adding more flair to your steps, one hand resting on your waist, the other weaving its fingers with yours. Now, you may not be one to go out and ballroom dance on the fly, but you would be alright admitting that this is kind of fun.

So you dance. And you dance. And you continue dancing, letting the music remove you from time and space, everything else fades away except for the thrumming drumbeat, the wind in the trees, and your partner. You don’t feel the need to gasp for air, nor do your legs give out and collapse, but you aren’t even aware of how much time has passed. You dance out your pain, your stress, and any alcohol that lingers in your system, a layer of sweat keeping your body cool in the autumn night’s air. An eternity, perhaps, a small piece of infinity shared between you and this stranger, or the briefest of moments that still yield the most intimate bit of time that two people can share.

The song ends- or perhaps, the band finally runs out of music to play. You don’t know what time it is, but you aren’t finished with the party, not yet. The stranger sets his hands on both your hips, eyes as red as the fires of hell, and offers you a promising smile, his shirt loosely clinging to his body, having lost the fancily embroidered vest at some point while dancing.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You ask, making a snap decision not to let the night go to waste.

His smile widens.

The trees are your only audience when he brings you away from the rest of the party, the moon staring over the tops of the red and yellow leaves. The chill of the night might have discouraged anyone else, but you are broiling with energy and ready to continue moving wildly to keep warm. Despite barely being out of sight, you’re already working on his clothes, trying to find velcro or snaps of a cheap costume and failing rather miserably. He seems amused with your attempts, guiding your hands to find a variation of ties and buttons. Soon enough, you have his shirt off, his pale skin gleaming in the moonlight, revealing a chest etched in dozens of tattoos, red like blood against his pale skin, though it’s too dark to make out precisely what they are.

He seems to have a destination in mind, even though you steal most of his attention with kisses and touches. Even though you are in a place you’re sure no one would bother finding you in, he still seems determined to herd your desperate body further away from the camp, until the both of you get to a clearing, free of roots strangling the ground. Jupiter and Saturn stare blankly down from their perches in the sky, the stars surrounding them twinkling, as though applauding your conquest.

“I didn’t catch your name,” you gasp after a breathless kiss.

He pauses, almost put off by the request, like he’s startled you would even ask. Before you can even regain the ability to feel nervous, he says, “Avery.”

“Avery,” you repeat, running your fingers through his hair. “That’s a nice name.”

“And what may I call you?”

Like a fool, you give up your first name without much thought, but you are too excited about where the night is going to remember what you said even a second later. It doesn’t seem to matter, though, because his mouth is against yours, and your back is on the cold, dewy grass before you even register that he pulled your legs off balance. He’s a good kisser, you think hazily, his lips traveling down from your mouth to your collarbone. His mouth is nice and hot against your skin, already sending pleasant little shivers down your spine as he works, and you find yourself grasping at the cold, dying grass of the earth in order to pull your spirit back to reality.

The insides of your belly melt as he lifts your shirt up over your breasts, and you’re quick to discard the garment as he sucks at the skin just above the hemline of your pants. He needs help with the button and the zipper, his lithe fingers struggling to figure out the mechanics, so you undo everything for him. After letting out a thankful grunt, he leans forward, pressing his lips right on your stomach, sucking hard enough to leave a red mark that may bruise in the morning.

Then he kisses the skin just above where your underwear ends, a jolting shiver pulsing through your core at the contact. When you glance down at him, the barest light emanating from the roaring bonfire only a few meters away, he seems so… focused, you think, at his task of slowly stripping the last bit of fabric away from your body. Methodically, he tugs, fingers threading through the straps at the side, his eyes glimmering in the light bleeding out from the moon herself.

Slowly, steadily, he presses his mouth where your leg and torso meet, nibbling at a bit of flesh before moving ever so slightly downwards, opening your legs and seemingly liking what he finds down there. Carefully avoiding any of your puckered, wet skin, he instead moves his lips just to the side, clearly enjoying the act of driving you to the brink of insanity. You can feel the smile he wears as he teases you further, switching over to your other thigh.

Almost impatiently, you wrap one of your legs around his shoulder, arching your back when he finally lashes his tongue out to trace the outline of your flower. A heated spark ignites through your nerves, a charge of fiery need flooding your body and into your core. He seems to enjoy the breathless whine you offered in response because he does it again, inching closer and closer to your clit.

Roughly, you tangle your fingers into his long, flowing hair, pulling him closer and begging with no words for him to stop teasing and finally give you the pleasure you need. Avery finally complies, pressing his tongue right up against your clit and tracing little circles on and around it. The heat of his breath only helps further stir the coals in your womb, your back arching against the gentle curve of the world as you cry out.

He seems to deeply enjoy your keening, popping off your puckered flesh in the brief moment it takes for him to smile up at you, like a beast satisfied with the tortured screams of its prey. The way his tongue moves up, around, and down your clit makes you want to die, dirt clinging underneath your fingernails, bits of grass tearing as you claw at the ground. Still, he takes your keening reaction to double his efforts, using his fingers when his mouth is busy elsewhere, rubbing gentle little patterns in the opening of your slit.

There, you can feel your orgasm approaching as he begins to explore your core with his thumb, pushing and rubbing against the throbbing folds with some level of curiosity in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, a passing observation.

You’re so beyond the point of return that you could barely even draw in the words to thank him before you’re overcome with shaking trembles emanating from your very core, your insides quick to bend and break at his beckoning. It doesn’t take much more teasing from Avery before you’re crying out for him, voice cracking with pleasure and desperation, your fingers threading through his hair so tightly you don’t know where you end, and he begins.

When you are nothing more than a heaping, teary-eyed mass of trembling flesh on the ground, he crawls up from between your legs, kisses your stomach, your ribs, your breasts, your collarbone, all the way up to your mouth once more. You can taste yourself on his tongue and lips, warmer than the wine and almost twice as intoxicating, and by the wild stare in his eyes, he’s drunk with your nectar. And, quite frankly, ready to devour you, his kisses all teeth and heat, mouth dexterous against the curves, rises, and plateaus of your body, like he knows so very intimately every square centimeter of you.

There’s a hard rock length against your stomach, one that you can feel, almost tragically against your skin as he lavishes your lips and chest with his blessed attention. Even though you walked into this situation expecting a one-night stand, you don’t know, this feels light it could rocket through your life and end up becoming

“More,” you rasp, surprised that your voice is even working, ” more.”

He understands that rough and demanding command, stroking your hair with one of his free hands, mouth offering up a myriad of kisses to your neck and collarbone, an odd, overcoming need to please you emanating off of him, one like you’ve never dealt with before. Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see the familiar masks of those at the party earlier, but Avery turns your wandering gaze back to him with his insistent, feral kiss, his chest trembling with heated need.

“Do you want my cock inside you?” He asks, wanting to hear you say it.

“Please,” you almost snarl, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Hmm,” he almost manages to fool you that he could care less, but by the way his body grinds and presses against yours, he’s so, so close to traveling the radius of the earth itself to comply. You can hear the rustle of fabric as he strips away what’s left of his ensemble, moving away from your body and leaving you almost horrifically cold.

It doesn’t take a lot for him to angle your legs properly, your thigh rubbing up against his throbbing member. He’s at least gentle with how he impales you, his entrance slow and gradual, kaleidoscope eyes staring so intently into your very being that you wonder if you’ll survive the next time pleasure crashes down around you. And he feels so good, the crisp, autumn grass against your back the only thing keeping you from becoming so lost beneath his trembling body.

He must share your thoughts because even though he’s only eased in, his forehead pressed against yours, his breathing is short and shallow like he could hardly believe the pleasure your body gives him. Once he’s fully sheathed, he swears, voice quiet, yet filled to the brim with lust. You wrap your legs around his waist, hoping to feel him further, your voice and your body begging him to continue, to move, but he’s almost in a trance.

You’re impatient for movement, for that slick friction between your thighs, so you quickly take matters into your own hands. With no finesse, fueled only by spite and determination, you shift, switching positions using your legs and arms. Avery simply rolls with it, a ghostly smile on his mouth as you pin his hands to the ground, chest heaving from the effort, a layer of sweat misting your skin despite the chill of the night.

That seems to break whatever space he had retreated to, eyes lit like a roaring forest fire as he beholds your body from beneath your legs. His voice is raspy, but the demand is calm, collected, like he’s waited for thousands of years for this, for you. “Use me.”

You let out a breath, steadying yourself on his body to comply, and grind. His eyes roll back as you do, starting slowly, his back arching off the ground, his chest heaving with pleasure at the loss of control. Careful to control the pace, you let yourself be taken by the pleasure, the joining slick and hot, your core roaring with approval and greed. More, more, more.

Everything is suddenly vibrantly alive, the forest rustling with a wind you don’t feel, crickets singing hymns in the open field, the moon herself licking at your bodies with her soft, precious light. You think you hear chanting in the distance, your brain muddled with his delicious praises and lust that you don’t try to investigate, too focused on feeling his length pulse and move through your folds. Tears prick at your eyes, not from sadness, no, and you couldn’t possibly know their purpose because this feels so good, like his body was made for you.

This climax almost hurts, you felt it approaching and you knew it would be a lot, so you brace yourself, both hands gripping his shoulders like a lifeline. You look into his eyes, and you see… more, than just fundamental attraction, more than pure, unadulterated lust, but you’re so far gone you can’t pinpoint what it is, exactly, before you’re overcome.

Everything in your body is aflame, your core quaking enough to make you think, for just a brief moment, that the earth itself is tearing apart, you cry, you whine, you scream for him, and he’s there, holding onto you for dear life. Telling you that you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, that you’ll never want another man so long as your legs are wrapped around him so tightly like this. You think you believe him, gasping for air, fingernails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood, though he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

It takes a lot of concentration to bring yourself back into your body, your soul and spirit so besotted with desire, but you manage it, feeling his hands grip your thighs so tightly his fingers may leave bruise marks. You bend forward, letting him take the reins as you try to stay present enough in the moment to kiss and nip at his neck, teeth tugging at his skin, the aftershocks still moving through your nerves like waves on a storming night. Still, though, you want him to feel what you did, to become undone by your hand.

And he does, his thrusts becoming so uneven that you begin to grind, ghosts of your orgasm weaving through your flesh and womb. A crescendo of noise seems to overtake the clearing, the air becoming like static, the hairs on your arms standing on end. Overcome, he curses and snarls in a language you don’t understand, his voice hard and soft at the same time, his hips jerking as something warm and wet pulses out of his member, filling you up and spilling out onto his pelvis.

Avery sits up, still joined within you, shaken, but startlingly and brilliantly alive, chest heaving with the effort of breathing. He presses his mouth against yours in a myriad of kisses, soft, possessive, tender, needy. There is still some amount of desire on his lips, but without the same uncontrollable yearning broiling just beneath his fevered skin like before.

Then he says your name, and a shiver goes down your spine, your very being somehow attentive to whatever he says next, as though your entire universe suddenly floods down and descends on this one, single person. He says it again, rolling it over his tongue like a wine taster, trying out each of the letters as though they offer a different kind of sweetness, his eyes just as wild as they had been when you held him pinned to the grass. A sliver of fear pierces your chest, making you want to push him onto the ground and take him again, but he has other plans.

“I’ll walk you back, dove,” he says, pressing his mouth against your collarbone, though he doesn’t kiss you again, not yet. “The sun will soon be up.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All Nighter

Previous Parts: Extracurricular Teacher’s Pet

Warnings: noncon/rape; drinking/drunkenness; name calling;

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (Professor) Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: Your academic worries are compounded by your personal dilemma.

Note: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I caved and we get a third part.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Halfway through the lesson, you excused yourself. As Ransom waited at the front and students scoured over an excerpt of Catcher in the Rye, he sent you another jarring message. It was time. 

You stood carefully, the skirt offering little coverage and knowing you were about to be even more exposed. You ducked down as you walked along the front row and disappeared through the door.

You went to the restroom and locked yourself in a stall. Your phone vibed again, still clutched tightly in your hand. ‘Show me.’ He demanded and even in font, the words made you shudder.

You sighed and held your phone out at an angle with one hand as you opened the camera. You directed the lense to your skirt and tugged it up until your purple panties were exposed. You shimmied as you slid them down on either side with your fingers and let them fall past the top of your stockings. You ended the recording and hit send before collecting your crumpled underwear.

You folded them and shoved them up your sleeve and locked your phone. You returned to the class, unnoticed, and sat in your seat with your head down. You bent back the cover of the book and tried to focus on the passage. You could hear Ransom as he rocked in the old office chair.

You peeked up at him as he held his phone up. His face was blank as he watched the screen. His finger tapped the phone and he nodded. He lowered his cell and his eye caught yours before you could shy away. He winked and cleared his throat.

“Alright, everyone, let’s start with a brief summary. Who wants to begin?” He stood and approached the podium again. “Go ahead.”

You blinked and realised he was pointing at you. You let out a prolonged uh and shuffled your book dumbly.

“Um, in this chapter, uh, Holden tells us about his neighbour, Jane, and um,” you squirmed a Ransom stared at you and you felt the attention of every other student in the lecture hall, “As the chapter progresses we learn that Holden has shared with her things, like Allie’s baseball glove, that he hasn’t with anyone else and in turn, eh, erm, Jane’s character disassembles and both Holden and the reader wonder after her alcoholic stepfather and even if he has… a-abused her. Holden prefers to think of her, however, as innocent, and accepts a not very convincing denial. Really, he hears what he wants to and goes on without a single--” You stopped as you began to ramble. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Ransom appeared amused and leaned on the podium. “Okay. Any other interpretations?”

He looked around and you deflated in your chair. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be talking about Jane and her vile stepfather, and you didn’t want your professor to keep looking between your legs. But just like Holden, Ransom couldn’t see anything but his own male ego. Anyone else was just a stepping stone in his grand American narrative.

🖊️

When class ended, you were as eager as any other to be gone. The two-hour block at seven in the evening was hardly anyone’s ideal, even if it was a weeknight. You slid your notebook away and the used edition of Salinger. You dropped the pens into the side pocket of your worn messenger bag and stood to watch your peers flood out of the classroom.

You wanted badly to be on your way and for an instant, you had a glimmer of hope that you might. But then you heard the deep breath and your name was called from behind you. 

“Just a minute,” he said with all pretense of deceiving any stragglers, “You seem to be missing a page from your assignment.”

You turned slowly and left your bag in the seat. You neared him and your nostrils flared as your gaze met his. It wasn’t even your paper he held. You swallowed back your reticence and pretended to look at the essay. 

“Oh, sorry.” You said as he peered over your shoulder.

“Go on,” he lowered his voice as the upper doors finally closed with a heavy clank. 

You cringed and reached up your sleeve and pulled out your panties. You let them fall onto the folder and he poked his fingers through the fabric and stretched them out. He hummed and rubbed the cotton between his fingers.

“You got anything sexier?” He snatched them up and shoved them in his pocket. “I thought you college girls were funner than that.”

You glared at him and crossed your eyes. “Right, is that everything?”

“Don’t,” he warned, “Sweetie, I don’t like that tone.” 

You huffed and rolled your eyes. He shuffled away his papers as you retreated to grab your own bag. You headed for the door as you unfolded your jacket from over your arm.

“Where are you going? I didn’t dismiss you.” He called from behind you. You turned back and stared at him.

“I have class in the morning.” You said.

“And?” He scoffed. “It’s only nine.”

You were quiet as he approached you. You wanted so badly to scream and hit him. He was a frat boy with tenure. He was as slimy and shady as every guy on campus and you had been deluded enough to think that age and title would change a spoiled brat with a silver spoon still lodged firmly in his mouth. Oh, the naive romanticism of a sophomore.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

He snickered and kept on as you backed away from him. He had you against the door as he slapped his hand above your shoulders and loomed over you. He leaned in as his other hand played with the bottom of your shirt.

“Because I can.” He purred, “And because I love the look in your eyes as I’m balls deep.”

“Ew,” you slapped his chest but he didn’t flinch. He merely grabbed your arm and spun you around as he pushed the door open behind you.

“Good thing you took those panties off,” he sneered, “You won’t be needing them.”

🖊️

You spent the car ride hunched against the passenger door, wishing you were anywhere else. Ransom let the radio fill the silence as he barely seemed to recall your presence. He steered with one hand, unbothered by the tension between you. As he pulled up to his house, its tall glass windows and geometric structure thrust you into a whirlwind of deja vu.

He killed the engine and rounded as you remained in your seat. You were too numb to do anything but sit there and stare at the house. You remembered patches of that night; stumbling up the walk, Ransom carrying you up stairs, his body against yours, the disorienting pain of his intrusion.

The door opened and you nearly fell out of the car. The seatbelt kept you from your descent and you unbuckled it as Ransom grabbed your arm and dragged you out into the crisp autumn evening. Your boots tapped melodically as he led you up the paved walk and you found it hard to think straight.

“Wait, wait,” you stopped as you reached the threshold, “No, Ransom, Professor… this is… wrong. You can’t--”

“For such a quiet little bitch you sure don’t shut the fuck up,” he snarled as he unlocked the door, one hand still on your arm. Your blood froze as you thought of your bag on the floor of the car, your phone buried in the side pocket. “Come on.”

“No, please,” you wriggled in his grasp, “You can’t keep doing this to me. I’ll… I’ll tell.”

“Not if I tell first,” he said coolly and bent to sling you over his shoulder. “Now let’s give you something to tell about.”

He pushed through the door and slapped your ass as he carried you inside. You kicked and writhed over his shoulder as he strode into the front room. The lights shone as they were triggered by some unseen sensor.  

He carried you to the modern sofa with its flat cushions and low back, and dropped you onto it gruffly. You bounced and bit your tongue painfully.

“Don’t make me tear those clothes off or you won’t have anything to wear in the morning,” he warned as he kicked off his leather boots and paced along the broad windows that formed the front wall of the room. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a rack in the corner and turned back to you. “Well…”

You bent to unzip your boots and shoved them aside. You heard a clink and looked over your shoulder. Ransom stood behind the small bar along the far wall and plunked a glass on top.

“Seem to loosen up with a few drinks in you,” he pulled out another tumblr and a bottle of dark whiskey. “This stuffs a lot better than that toilet water they serve in the club.”

You ignored him and stood to remove your jacket. You realised that there was no way out. You kept trying to convince yourself there was but that only made it worse. You hung your coat beside his as he watched you closely and gave a measured pour.

“Here,” he slid a glass across the bar. “Drink up, sweetie.”

“I’m not thirsty,” you ignored him and walked nervously back to the sofa. Was it better to have it done with?

“I don’t care what you want now get over here and drink,” he growled. “Or I’ll force it down that pretty little throat myself.”

You blanched and slowly crossed to the bar. You took the short glass and raised it, the alcohol made your nose tingle. He watched you as he drained his own tumbler. You tossed it back in three stinging gulps and coughed as you set the glass back on the bar. He chuckled and poured again, but didn’t add any to his empty glass.

“Again.” He ordered.

“Please, I can’t--” You waved your hand as you touched your raw throat. He stared at you and his jaw twitched. You pouted and lifted the glass again. You drank with tears in your eyes and gasped as you swigged it down. “There.” You choked as you planted the tumblr on the bar top. 

He reached over as if to pour some more and grinned as he hovered the bottle over your glass. He laughed and lowered it down onto its base instead. “Good girl.” He came out from behind the bar and neared you, drawing you away with him. “But you’re not naked yet.”

He thrust you ahead of him and you stumbled to the sofa. Your wits were buzzing from the whiskey and your empty stomach rolled. You hadn’t eaten since the early afternoon, right before your second lecture. You were wholly unprepared for the alcohol and the man before you.

You reached and tugged at the bottom of your turtleneck. You pulled it up and freed your head from it with a grunt. You dropped it onto the sofa and Ransom touched your shoulder where he’d bit you days before. It was still tender and made you wince. You unbuttoned your skirt and pushed the zipper down. It fell to your ankles without much effort.

Ransom’s hands went to your chest and he fondled your tits through your plain bra. He reached around you and unhooked it easily, yanking it down your arms and flinging it away. His fingers danced along your side and you hooked your thumb under the top of your stockings.

“Uh uh,” he tutted, “Keep those on.”

You retracted your hand and he gripped your shoulders. He pushed until you sat on the sofa and he backed away slightly. His tongue poked out as he took you in and he grinned. He pulled his knit sweater over his head and threw it on the floor. He made quick work of his undershirt and revealed his muscled torso. You squeezed your legs together and stared at your knees.

“We both know those college boys are nothing compared to me, sweetie,” he teased as you heard the buckle of his belt. “It’s okay, you can have a peek.”

You didn’t say anything as you listened to him strip. When he neared, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. He grabbed your chin and forced your head up. His other hand moved below your vision as he stroked himself. 

“Get up,” he demanded and you stood with a sway. The whiskey stormed inside of you.

His hand fell to your arm and he dragged you away from the sofa. He directed you towards the tall windows and you shivered as you got closer. He stopped you before the glass and brought your hands up and planted them against the window. You felt the chill through it as he grasped your hips and drew your feet back. You stared out onto the drive, the street barely visible just beyond the curve, although you could see the lights of the neighbour’s house.

“What--”

“Shhh,” he tickled your spine and groped your ass roughly. “Stay just like that, sweetie.”

He slipped his hand down and kicked your feet apart. He felt along your folds and you shivered as his warmth contrasted against the cold seeping through the glass. Bumps rose along your skin as he poked around your entrance.

“Wet, already.” He tisked, “I thought you were a good girl.”

You shook your head and closed your eyes as he reached to your clit and rubbed it with two fingers. You gasped as he teased you and drew back to shove a finger inside you. He grabbed your shoulder as your back arched and stepped closer. He pulled his hand away and prodded you with his tip again.

“Professor…” You hissed.

His hand went to the back of your neck and he pushed your face against the glass as he slowly forced his tip inside of you. You groaned and turned so that your cheek rested against the cool window and he impaled you entirely. You slapped the glass and your fingers curled as he filled you.

“Ah,” you whined and he bucked so that your whole body quaked.

“Still so fucking tight,” he rocked against you as his thick breaths surrounded you. “You had me hard all night, sweetie. I could barely fucking stand straight.”

He tilted his hips into you as you were on tiptoes and your legs began to tremble beneath you. You clung to the glass, afraid you might collapse. He nuzzled your head and growled as sped up. You moaned without thinking as your walls clenched around him.

“That’s it,” he hummed and dropped his hand from your neck, trailing both along your chest and stomach. He hunched over you as he felt around the back of your thighs and panted into your hair. “You can play coy all you want but your cunt says it all.”

His hands stretched across your thighs and you exclaimed as he suddenly scooped you up. He bent your legs to your chest as he lifted you and your fingertips slid along the glass. He hooked his arms under your knees and opened you up as he hammered into you from below. 

He stepped closer to the window and you braced yourself against it as your reflection stared back at you. The inky dark was clouded by the glare of the light inside and revealed to you your shame. Your eyes drifted down and you saw how easily he slid in and out of you.

Your legs tensed around his arms and your breath hitched. You shut your eyes as your mouth fell open and felt your core bloom. You were close, so close, and you needed to cum. You didn’t care that it was him or that it was here; you had to.

You kept one hand on the window and snaked your other down to your cunt. You flicked circles around your clit as the sound of your flesh mingled with his. He crashed into you harder and harder and snarled into your neck.

“You fucking slut,” he rasped, “You touching yourself? Huh? You fucking like it.” He pulled your legs further apart until your hips rang with pain. “Bad girl.”

You spasmed and came with a squeak. You felt yourself dripping down his cock as the warmth leaked from you. You smacked your slick hand against the window again and bit down on your lip as he rutted into you with gristly grunts.

“Say it. You’re a bad girl.” He puffed.

“Wha--”

“Say it,” he slammed into you hard.

“I’m-- I’m a… bad… girl,” you choked out. “Oh, oh, I’m bad.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said frantically and stilled you. He sniffed and held you on him. “Get…” His voice trailed off and he lifted you from him.

He lowered you swiftly and your legs wobbled dangerously beneath you. He grabbed the back of your neck and forced you to your knees. He brought you close as he stroked himself desperately.

“I’m gonna cum on your tits, sweetie,” he moaned, “I’m gonna--”

He grunted and strings of cum erupted from him as he angled his dick over you. His cum spurted over your chest and shoulders, even along your chin and cheek as his body shook and his fingers sank into your neck. He twitched as he slowed his hand and sighed as he let his cock bob freely before him.

“Mmm,” he let go of you and looked down at you with a smirk, “You look amazing covered in me.” 

He ran his hands over his chest and exhaled. You tried to stand and he caught your shoulder. “Crawl.” He ordered. “Get on the sofa and wait for me, sweetie.” He ran his finger through the cum along your cheek, “I won’t be long.”

🖊️

You woke in a fog. Your thighs, your hips, your cunt all ached. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at the pristine white ceiling. You were sprawled flat on the stiff sofa, alone. Your mouth was dry and your tongue tasted of flesh and alcohol. You groaned and sat up as your head reverberated. The sky outside was a dull grey and the clock above the door read just before seven. Fuck.

Your name floated in from the doorway at the other end of the room. You hung your head and stood. You took the throw draped over the back of the chair beside the couch and covered yourself. You neared the arch and peeked inside. Ransom poured a cup of coffee from a French press.

“You’re gonna be late if you don’t get your ass in gear,” he said smugly as he pushed the mug across the island.

You grumbled and crossed to the marble counter. You climbed up onto a tall stool and winced at the tenderness between your legs. The coffee smelled delicious as your stomach churned.

“Don’t worry, you can ride with me,” he taunted. “What time you done today?”

You frowned and took a boiling sip, barely noticing how the coffee seared your tongue. “Four… why?”

“Hmm, that’ll be a long day,” he said. “But not… too long.”

His cryptic words made you scowl and he left you without explanation. He returned with a pink box and his phone. He placed both on the counter. You watched him, confused, and he eased the lid off the box. Inside, was a silicon plug in hot pink. You shook your head.

“No.” You said firmly.

“It’s for your cunt, calm down,” he said.

“No,” you repeated and cradled your mug. “Ransom…”

“Professor. I think I prefer ‘professor’. It’s… proper.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. He flicked his finger over his phone and it unlocked. He tapped and you leaned on your elbow. He pressed his finger against the centre of the circle that appeared and the box began to buzz as the plug vibrated. He dragged his finger around the circle and the toy intensified. You blinked.

“We’ll save that fun for class tomorrow night,” he licked his lip, “For now, you just need to… adjust.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, come on. You take me well enough.” He slithered. “Gotta have you ready… I have a break just after five. I expect you can hit pause on your studying for a visit.”

You were stunned. You set the cup down and rubbed your cheeks as you tried to process it all.

“You’re disgusting.” You sneered.

“Oh,” he closed the app and searched through his phone. He turned it to you and hit place, “So are you, sweetie.”

You squinted as you saw yourself against the glass, your tits bouncing as Ransom fucked you from behind, his own face hidden by the angle of the security camera. You swallowed and your hands went to your neck as your skin burned with humiliation.

“You…” you were speechless and tore your eyes way from his phone.

“I have a lot more than that,” he assured you as he spun the phone back to him and watched the footage with a leer, “Hurry up.” He locked the screen. “Or I’ll make sure we’re both late.”

[ackerfics]

hange and their best friend (reader) "platonically" flirt with one another, they use pet names for each other, making others think they're together unintentionally. until reader finds an s/o, not knowing hange actually likes them

she — hange zoe

— hange zoe x female reader (modern au)

— warnings: angst ??? the stinging feeling you get when you see someone you love, love someone else

— summary: hange's best friend found love in the form of autumn while hange associates her with all of the seasons.

— word count: 2.5k

— notes: i love hange but i hate myself for writing something that hurts them :<<< they're my first love in aot and it pains me to imagine them hurting in any sort of way (which is probably the reason why i bawled my heart out in chap 132). this little fic hit too close at home for me bc it's exactly what i felt one time during high school. it's fucking traumatizing and istg, i don't want to relive falling in love with a friend again, it's like the most satisfying way to hurt, too. happy reading tho :<<<

reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

She embodies everything positive in Hange’s eyes.

She is spring — the bursting of blossoms under the tendrils of sunlight seeping between the spaces of the trees in the woods. Every time Hange closes their eyes, they are reminded of how she signifies every single flower they ever know. She makes them feel everything at once — see every color at once in a single frame. There is no space for artistic abilities in Hange’s calloused, mismatched hands but when it comes to her, they can create a myriad of paintings encapsulating her beauty at every stroke of a brush. Her laughs, her flowery perfume that doesn’t hurt their nose, her smiles that are as radiant as the early morning Sun — are ingrained in their brain. She brings forth the butterflies that Hange carefully imprisoned in their ribs, the monarchs’ wings already seeping through the cracks at every joke she makes, reaching to their heart until every beat swayed to the sound of her giggles.

“Hange, the love of my life, there you are!”

Hange turned around with a huge smile on their lips. Their conversation with Levi came to an abrupt stop, with the shorter man mumbling along the lines of ‘here we go again’. The small smile on his face spoke otherwise while watching two of his closest friends hug each other as if they didn’t live together in an apartment right outside of campus. It was such a mystery that Hange could be so comfortable around someone to the point of playfully kissing their neck in public, followed by their best friend’s melodious laughs soon after. However, Levi couldn’t be fooled. He knew the glint in the brown-haired person’s eyes. The downturn of their eyebrows when their best friend wasn’t looking. The longing was apparent when she was talking to someone across the room.

The idiot going by the name Hange Zoe was irrevocably in love with their best friend, [Name] [Last Name].

“What is it, baby?” Hange asked vibrantly, glasses reflecting the equally excited girl in their arms. “Didn’t know your class dismissed this early. What happened?”

“Nothing. Our professor announced that we should visit a museum for our finals.” She then mimicked the haughty tone of her Art History professor, straightening her back to make herself appear taller. “Choose a painting or a sculpture and trace down its history and attach your critique in the final output. If I see anyone half-assing this paper, I will not hesitate to give a failing grade that will make you retake this class. I know you lot don’t want to see me again for another semester and I don’t want to see you again, too. So, prove to me you’re worth your standing in this course.” She cleared her throat. “What he said.”

Hange whistled. “Dang, I’m happy that I didn’t follow you to the Arts Department. Your professor sounds like a complete asshole.” They chortled the next second. “Sounds like my mom, to be honest.”

“At least your mom makes a bomb bento box.”

“Yeah, I guess, you’re right.” Hange then nuzzled their face in her hair. “But your bento boxes taste much more delicious — I could eat them all day. Can I be your partner so that you’ll cook for me every day?”

“I’ve already taken the position of your wife the moment I agreed to be your roommate in university, sweetheart. And I cook for you every single day so you don’t have to ask to be my partner because you already are.”

Hange looked smug at her reply, the heat in their cheeks traveling to their ears. “That was a rhetorical question but hearing those words come out of your mouth, it’s making me feel things.”

“Oh? What are those things?”

The brown-haired person snickered under their breath, glancing at Levi who was now looking at the two of them in that lazy way of his that might come off as him being annoyed again. In reality, he was only waiting for the two to finally stop flirting to recognize he was there. His daily job of being a third-wheel should’ve started fifteen minutes ago but Hange wouldn’t let [Name] go. Hange turned back to the expectant girl. “I don’t want Levi to hear what I’m about to say. Just expect something back at the apartment,” they joked, a cheeky smile tugging at their lips.

[Name] laughed heartily. “I’m looking forward to that, gorgeous.”

“I’m still here, you know?” Levi dryly made himself known. He huffed and turned around in the direction of the university restaurant. “Come on, lovebirds, let’s have lunch. Oh, and [Name]?” When he heard her little hum of acknowledgment, Levi slightly turned around to meet his friend’s eyes with his jaded ones. “It’s your turn to buy me a drink. Make it a venti today.” She only blinked at him, giving him no choice but to resort to that dumb thing she always asked. “Please can I have a venti this time? I got you and Hange a venti last time so this makes us even.”

“Ooh, make mine a venti, too, baby!” Hange squeezed their best friend’s waist.

“Anything for my sweetheart.”

“Again, I’m right here, you know.”

Just the thought of that little scenario hurts Hange.

But as much as the pain comes in the package, she is still summer in their eyes.

The Sun can’t compare to the brilliance of her smile. Kind smiles and gentle touches under the warm rays of the summer heat. Her scent is yellow to Hange — so bright and warm that they don’t care how long they bask in her presence, never caring if they get burned because it feels so right to be within her orbit. She urges them to feel so loved and so special, tender caresses of her warmth cascading down every vein until it reaches their heart. The cerulean waters of the sea hold nothing against the beauty of her grins, brown eyes searching for her every time of the day no matter how ethereal the world painted itself to be. Viewing the sights with rose-colored glasses is what they may call it but for Hange, it’s simply her. Someone once said that summer brings forth a paradise where blue covers everything in its wake, the cry of the seagulls reverberating in the distance, and the scent of ice cream flickers in the breeze. For Hange, summer is in the form of pretty close-lipped smiles, of late-night movie marathons on a worn-out couch, of bento boxes filled with their favorites, of a scent so saccharine, and a loyal friend.

A friend.

Of course. No matter where Hange goes, that word haunts them. Hidden beneath their smiles, their jokes, their longing, and admiring stares. It’s a reminder of where they stand in this limbo they created. At one point, they thought that line had been crossed only for it to be established again in permanent ink. And before they know it, Hange is tumbling down in a spiral, along with a change of seasons.

Fall is where everything started.

The orange glow of the leaves created the perfect view as she sipped on her tall cup of warm coffee. The blissful sigh that came soon after warmed up Hange, even though they were seated in front of each other in the outside tables of the small cozy café where Levi was working at. The chill brought by the autumn wind caused both of them to shiver in their layered clothing. The way she nuzzled more into her scarf made Hange coo, reaching out to pinch her cheek affectionately. Autumn was both their favorite season, how it made them resort to the comfort and warmth their sweaters bring, or how they cuddle in each other’s beds with the air conditioner blasting despite the cold. It was also a season where Hange could admire her in their hoodie, a piece of clothing that swallows her whole because she’s so small compared to their lanky figure.

Hange remembered being called out here because she wanted to talk about something. Now that they thought about it, her cheeks appear to be glowing more than usual and she kept glancing inside the café where Levi was busy telling his coworker how to make the new drink. Hange even went as far as following her gaze but they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary other than Levi sighing in that stressful way of his that always made them snicker. They turned back to their Sun, who was once again in a daze while staring at the clear windows of the café. “So,” they prolonged the syllable, “how’s life going, darling? I know we’re living in the same apartment but I just can’t help but ask you this because it seems like you’re always in a daze these days.”

A pause made the breeze’s call known.

“Hey, Hange, have you ever been in love?”

That spread the chill even more inside Hange’s chest. She called them by their name. Not sweetheart nor big spoon. The reality washed over Hange like a pail of freezing water.

“W-What?” Damn, they couldn’t keep the stutter off their words.

She turned her head to them, eyes so soft and smile so beautiful that made Hange breathless for one second. The butterflies dwindled, losing their iridescent wings when they realized that look wasn’t reserved for them anymore. “I thought about it,” she murmured, rubbing her numbing fingertips on the warm cup. “I have never fallen in love with anyone before. Sure, I love you and all our friends but I’ve never stopped and thought about how someone can look like starlight in front of me. But recently,” again, that pretty smile that pierced Hange’s chest, “I never knew that it could hit me that unexpectedly.”

Hange grinned despite the pounding of her chest. “So, who’s the lucky person?”

She chuckled, going back to staring at the interior of the café. “I told Levi to lay off on scolding her but he never listens, says she’ll never grow a backbone if he’s being considerate on her.”

Now, they’re confused because the only people manning the counter as she spoke was Levi (and she would never fall in love with Levi, seeing as they grew up together like siblings rather than the childhood friends that they are) and a strawberry blonde who looked like Levi’s become their worst nightmare. It took Hange a full minute to process that the person she’s been staring at was never their mutual friend, but the strawberry blonde who looked up towards their direction and waved with a pretty blush on their cheeks. She waved back with the same shyness, leaving Hange dumbfounded. “Wait, the person you’re in love with is—”

“Yeah, it’s her.”

Suddenly, Hange understands why she’s starting to like autumn.

It reminds her of the girl’s hair, which she gushes about smelling like coconut. It reminds her of the girl’s preferred perfume, how it smells so much like cinnamon, something that she sometimes puts in her autumn drinks because in her words, ‘it’s the perfect season rather than winter’. It reminds her of the girl’s hugs, the way both of them fit with each other like lost puzzle pieces.

But as the seasons change, feelings of long-term pining will always be constant.

“Are you okay, though?” Erwin asked them, blue eyes reflecting their pathetic faux smile. He pushed the plate of pasta to them since Erwin had an idea that Hange wasn’t eating that much now. It also worried [Name].

“Yeah, four-eyes, I know you’re not doing that great and I’m saying this in the friendliest way possible because we’re worried now,” Levi reminded them, sipping on his tea with slightly narrowed eyes. “You always decline whenever we want to bring you to somewhere, to the point of leaving Nanaba on voicemail. You always answer at the first ring. Look here, shitty four-eyes,” the way Levi enunciated the nickname made Hange slowly turn their head to him, face void of the smile they were known for, “shouldn’t you be happy for her? [Name] gained the courage to confess and you’re here moping when you should’ve been supportive—”

“And what of my feelings, Levi?”

That made Levi blink and feel like an asshole.

Then, the dam broke.

“I’ve been with her all this time, you’ve seen that. You witnessed how this shy girl opened up to an extroverted idiot and became one of her best friends during high school. It feels like I can’t fucking breathe because I always thought we were meant to be. When she was lonely, I was there to comfort her. When she got a bad grade on an exam, I was the one who knows what flavors of ice cream she wants or how she eats them together like a fucking milkshake. Every day, I never expected her to look my way like she looks at her girlfriend right now. It fucking hurts. It feels so empty to know that I’m not the one she fell in love with. What did I lack? Should I be sweeter and gentler like that girl? Or dainty whenever I eat like she is? Be girly and dress up like a doll? Fuck, I can’t even bring myself to hate her girlfriend. She’s so nice and kind and sweet, anything I’m not.” Hange buried their hands in their hair, making it messier than it was.

“I just want [Name] to love me and make things wonderful. Why isn’t Fate on my side this time?

“Why didn’t she choose me?”

Tears were now drifting down like snowflakes.

“Hange,” Erwin murmured.

“Look, sunshine, it’s snowing!”

A voice catches their attention. A strawberry blonde cheers the words with glee painted in her eyes. Beside her is the subject of the trio’s conversation, the subject of a brown-haired person’s affections. Her eyes are taking in the beauty that is her girlfriend. She looks so pretty in love — how her eyes crinkled at the corners and how snow clung on her eyelashes as if she is a fairy straight from a fairy tale Hange loves when she was a kid. Her girlfriend takes her hand and pulls her to the restaurant where the trio is watching from the windows. Gray and blue irises slide over a somber bespectacled person, gauging their reaction though their face never gives anything away.

“I’m right behind you, Petra. I just took the time to admire you because you’re so pretty under the snow.”

“Stop it! You’re prettier!”

“Did you know that seeing the first snow of the year together with the person you love, your relationship will rival that of eternity?”

“Then, I’m happy I get to see this first snow with you, sunshine.”

“Me, too, angel.”

Hange smiles under a steady stream of tears. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy she found happiness even if it’s not with me.”

The chill blows inside the warm walls of the restaurant the moment the door opens, [Name]’s joyous greetings for her best friends bringing smiles to two of them. Her eyes drift to brown ones before turning to Petra to ask for a pack of tissues since Hange’s tears are still visible. Hange watches the commotion with a small smile, the chill spreading through them like a snowstorm.

Winter is here.

general taglist:

@angelofthorr

[hrina]

Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

    October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

      October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

      October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

      October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It’s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

      October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please consider donating to my ko-fi! and as always, don’t forget to share your thoughts. thank you bunches <3

[persephonememes]

* (  EVERMORE ALBUM BY TAYLOR SWIFT /  SENTENCE PROMPTS.

These may have been edited for clarity or length or to better apply for roleplaying.

willow

❛ The more that you say the less I know ❜

❛ Wherever you stray I will follow ❜

❛ I'm begging for you to take my hand ❜

❛ I come back stronger than a 90's trend ❜

❛ Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark ❜

❛ Show me the places where the others gave you scars ❜

❛ I should've known from the look on your face ❜

❛ Every bait and switch was a work of art ❜

❛ That's my man ❜

champagne problems

❛ Your heart was glass, and I dropped it ❜

❛ I dropped your hand while dancing left you out there standing ❜

❛ Now no one's celebrating ❜

❛ I can’t give you a reason ❜

❛ This dorm was once a madhouse ❜

❛ I never was ready, so I watch you go ❜

❛ Sometimes you just don't know the answer till someone's on their knees and asks you. ❜

❛ She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's stuck in her head. ❜

❛ You won't remember all my champagne problems ❜

gold rush

❛ I don't like a gold rush ❜

❛ I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush ❜

❛ I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch ❜

❛ Everybody wants you ❜

❛ Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you ❜

❛ I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush ❜

❛ I don't like that falling feels like flying till the bone crush ❜

❛ What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? ❜

❛ The coastal town we wandered round had never seen a love as pure as it ❜

❛ You know it could never be ❜

❛ My mind turns your life into folklore ❜

❛ I can't dare to dream about you anymore ❜

❛ At dinner parties I won't call you out on your contrarian wit ❜

'tis the damn season

❛ If I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would've asked you. ❜

❛ So we could call it even ❜

❛ You could call me "babe" for the weekend ❜

❛ The road not taken looks real good now ❜

❛ The holidays linger like bad perfume ❜

❛ You can run but only so far ❜

❛ I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave ❜

❛ But if it's okay with you, it's okay with me ❜

❛ I'm missing your smile ❜

❛ We could just ride around ❜

❛ Sleep in half the day, just for old times' sake ❜

❛ I won't ask you to wait, if you don't ask me to stay ❜

❛ The heart I know I'm breaking is my own ❜

❛ It always leads to you and my hometown ❜

❛ You could call me "babe" for the weekend 'tis the damn season ❜

tolerate it

❛ I notice everything you do or don't do ❜

❛ If it's all in my head tell me now ❜

❛ Tell me I've got it wrong somehow ❜

❛ I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it ❜

❛ I take your indiscretions all in good fun ❜

❛ I polish plates until they gleam and glisten ❜

❛ While you were out building other worlds, where was I? ❜

❛ Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life ❜

❛ I’m always taking up too much space or time ❜

❛ You assume I'm fine ❜

no body, no crime

❛ We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine ❜

❛ It smells like infidelity ❜

❛ No, there ain't no doubt ❜

❛ I think I'm gonna call him out ❜

❛ I think he did it but I just can't prove it ❜

❛ No body, no crime ❜

❛ I ain't letting up until the day I die ❜

❛ I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene ❜

❛ They think I did it but they just can't prove it ❜

❛ I wasn't letting up until the day he died ❜

happiness

❛ I see this for what it is ❜

❛ I was dancing when the music stopped ❜

❛ In the disbelief I can't face reinvention ❜

❛ I haven't met the new me yet ❜

❛ There'll be happiness after you ❜

❛ I would've loved you for a lifetime ❜

❛ When did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk? ❜

❛ When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt? ❜

❛ I can't see facts through all of my fury ❜

❛ You haven't met the new me yet ❜

❛ There'll be happiness after me ❜

❛ There is happiness in our history ❜

❛ I can't make it go away by making you a villain ❜

❛ I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night now I get fake niceties ❜

❛��No one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you, and you know you hurt him too ❜

dorothea

❛ Do you ever stop and think about me? ❜

❛ I got nothing but well wishes for ya ❜

❛ This place is the same as it ever was ❜

❛ It's never too late to come back to my side ❜

❛ Are you still the same soul? ❜

❛ Are you still the same soul? I met under the bleachers ❜

❛ They all wanna be ya ❜

coney island

❛ If I can't relate to you anymore then who am I related to? ❜

❛ Did I close my fist around something delicate? ❜

❛ Did I shatter you? ❜

❛ Sorry for not making you my centerfold ❜

❛ Lost again with no surprises ❜

❛ It gets colder and colder when the sun goes down ❜

❛ What's a lifetime of achievement? ❜

❛ I pushed you to the edge but you were too polite to leave me ❜

❛ Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? ❜

❛ Will you forgive my soul? ❜

❛ Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care? ❜

❛ Sorry for not winning you an arcade ring ❜

❛ Close your eyes ❜

❛ Did I leave you hanging every single day? ❜

❛ Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray? ❜

❛ When I got into the accident the sight that flashed before me was your face ❜

❛ The sight that flashed before me was your face when the sun goes down ❜

ivy

❛ Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow ❜

❛ My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand ❜

❛ Your opal eyes are all I wish to see ❜

❛ I'd live and die for moments that we stole ❜

❛ It's a violent blaze in the dark and you started it ❜

❛ It's the fiercest fight of my life and you started it ❜

❛ You started it ❜

cowboy like me

❛ Dancing is a dangerous game ❜

❛ I'm never gonna love again ❜

❛ I've got some tricks up my sleeve ❜

❛ Takes one to know one ❜

❛ Never wanted love, just a fancy car ❜

❛ I could be the way forward ❜

❛ You're a bandit like me ❜

❛ Never thought I'd meet you here ❜

❛ It could be love ❜

❛ You're a cowboy like me ❜

❛ I know I'll pay for it ❜

❛ Forever is the sweetest con ❜

long story short

❛ I tried to pick my battles til the battle picked me ❜

❛ I fell from the pedestal ❜

❛ Long story short, it was a bad time ❜

❛ Long story short, it was the wrong guy ❜

❛ Now I'm all about you ❜

❛ I'm all about you ❜

❛ I always felt I must look better in the rear view ❜

❛ When I dropped my sword, I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door ❜

❛ But if someone comes at us, this time I'm ready ❜

❛ No more keeping score ❜

❛ I just know there's more ❜

❛ I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things ❜

❛ He feels like home ❜

❛ Long story short, I survived ❜

marjorie

❛ Never be so kind, you forget to be clever ❜

❛ Never be so clever, you forget to be kind ❜

❛ What died didn't stay dead ❜

❛ Never be so polite, you forget your power ❜

❛ Never wield such power, you forget to be polite ❜

❛ The autumn chill that wakes me up ❜

closure

❛ It's been a long time ❜

❛ Seeing the shape of your name still spells out pain ❜

❛ It wasn't right the way it all went down ❜

❛ Yes, I got your letter ❜

❛ Yes, I'm doing better ❜

❛ It cut deep to know ya, right to the bone ❜

❛ I know that it's over ❜

❛ I don't need your "closure" ❜

❛ Don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled ❜

❛ I'm fine with my spite ❜

❛ I know I'm just a wrinkle in your new life ❜

❛ You’re reaching out across the sea that you put between you and me ❜ but it's fake and it's so unnecessary ❜

evermore

❛ I've been down since July ❜

❛ I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone trying to find the one where I went wrong. ❜

❛ I was catching my breath, staring out an open window ❜

❛ I had a feeling so peculiar that this pain would be for evermore ❜

❛ I can't remember what I used to fight for ❜

❛ Can't think of all the cost and all the things that will be lost now ❜

❛ When I was shipwrecked I thought of you ❜

❛ In the cracks of light I dreamed of you ❜

❛ In the cracks of light I dreamed of you and it was real enough to get me through ❜

❛ I had a feeling so peculiar that this pain wouldn't be for evermore ❜

[kythed]

I have a fic request for Kuroo! A childhood friends to lovers situation based off the song Take my Hand by Picture This! (Just a cute song that has been haunting me because Kuroo ❤️)

I have been through and stalked your blog and I love it! I also saw the ficmas prompt list and I’m looking forward to requesting those too!

I hope this is okay and thank you so much! Your stuff is a joy to read! ❤️❤️❤️✨✨✨

take my hand

kuroo tetsurou x reader

hope you enjoy <3

five.

“You’re my best friend,” he tells you, swallowing the heart that keeps straining to burst from his throat, to lay itself at your feet in all its humiliating devotion. “Of course I love you.”

And he does love you, he reassures himself, letting you walk ahead of him. Just not in the way you think he does. He struggles to keep his eyes above your waistline, tearing his gaze from the hem of your skirt and pointedly pinning it to the back of your head, where your hair is loosely tied with a glossy silk ribbon. His efforts succeed for nearly thirty seconds before he again finds his eyes tracing their way down your neck, down your back, down to the arch of your waist and the flare of your hips, relishing the curve of your--

Damn it. He abruptly stops in his tracks, rubbing his eyes until he sees only stars. (Maybe if he rubs his eyes with enough vigor he’ll stop noticing things he shouldn’t notice while looking at his best friend.)

“Tetsu,” you say, turning around with a laugh. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly, blinking hard.

He’s not fine.

four.

Life is painful when you’re in love with your oldest, dearest friend. Let Kuroo Tetsurou be the first to testify that when you’ve grown up with someone your entire life, when you’ve made the long, tedious trek from diapers to graduation gowns with them, it feels almost sinful to find yourself slipping into daydreams about pressing that person against your wall, about hearing them whisper your name on soft linen sheets, about kissing them breathless and glassy eyed until the sun plunges beneath the horizon with a brazen wink.

He hates himself for staring at you and hoping to catch you staring back. He hates himself for letting your words wash over his head, unheard, in favor of watching the way your lips curve and curl when you speak.

Most of all, he hates himself for loving you so fiercely in a particular way that would surely sour your stomach and send you running.

“I love you too,” you say, waiting for him to catch up and fall into step beside you. You take his hand and lace your fingers with his as you make your way up the street to your house. The windows glow a domestic orange, dimly illuminating the patch of asphalt before your front door.

It’s nearing seven now-- the gentle clinking of silverware and some sort of faint, savory scent from within inform you of dinner’s impending commencement.

“I know,” he says, cracking a crooked smile. You roll your eyes as he brushes a mocking kiss over your knuckles. “I’m hard to hate.”

three.

Most of the summer passes uneventfully, according to Kuroo’s standards. He manages to keep himself in check, even as he spends each and every day with you, dawn til dusk, savoring your presence the way a starving man savors his last ration.

He manages to treat you almost exactly as he’s treated you his entire life-- like a best friend. He tells his silly jokes that make you giggle and groan simultaneously. He pushes you off the pier when you least expect it, howling with laughter as you resurface, sputtering and flinging fiery invective. He shares an earbud with you as he walks downtown with you by his side, arm slung over your shoulder with carefully calculated composure.

He almost makes it to autumn without incident.

The small, hidden moments are what gives him away, though, layered within false nonchalance and easygoing grins like brightly painted matryoshka.

The way his chest constricts almost painfully when you laugh at a pun he’s ad-libbed on the spot, sending a flurry of butterflies freewheeling in the pit of his stomach.

“It really wasn’t that good,” he chuckles, tenderly watching as tears of laughter prick at the corners of your eyes and you grip his forearm in an attempt to steady yourself as giggles rack your body.

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree, struggling to catch your breath. “It was awful, and that’s what made it so funny.”

(He makes about a dozen more puns that day, feeling like he’s won the lottery whenever you so much as smile at his pitiful attempts at wordplay.)

The way his hands tremble when you turn around and ask him to tie your bikini string before you jump into the lake, the way he bites his lip so some horribly incriminating comment about how he really thinks you’d “be better off without the bikini at all” doesn’t slip out from his mouth.

“Thanks Tetsu,” you chirp after he ties the string around the back of your neck in a neat double-knot. You give him a wink and take off towards the water, kicking up sand in the process. “Last one in buys lunch!”

(He was already planning on paying anyways.)

The way he sits up a little straighter when you lean over and slip a hand under his arms to press ‘skip’ on his phone while you listen to his playlist-- you’re so close he can smell your lip balm.

“Sorry,” you say, smiling apologetically. “I don’t really like that band.”

(Later that evening, Kuroo goes through his Spotify and deletes every single song from that band he has on all of his playlists.)

Yes, he manages to keep himself in check outwardly. But inside, he can feel himself digging his grave a little deeper with each passing day. He watches the sands of summer run through his fingers with the dread of a man counting down the days to his funeral.

He just knows that one of these days he’s going to slip.

two.

He’s right, of course. There’s only so much emotional torment one person can humanly endure. It’s just that he’s hoping he can extinguish this inconvenient, one-sided flame before August comes around. Maybe then everything can go back to normal, whatever normal might entail.

Needless to say, Kuroo’s hopes are dashed before summer comes to a close.

It’s a sticky July evening when you and he drive out to an empty parking lot at the edge of town, a blanket and an old transistor radio in tow. You’re wearing a pale yellow sundress that falls to just above your knees-- he’s glad it’s not any shorter, and that the breeze isn’t quite strong enough to lift your hem.

“I think I can see Orion’s belt,” you say, pointing towards somewhere far into the cosmos. Kuroo squints, trying to follow your finger.

“I don’t think that’s Orion,” he says. “Looks like a cat to me.”

The two of you are sitting on a blanket spread across the hood of his car, craning your necks to make out vague shapes in the stars. Between you, slow, muffled music trickles out from the radio’s small speakers, some sort of vintage tune from the forties.

“How in the world are you seeing a cat?” You shake your head, giving him a hard poke on the shoulder. “Looks more like a swarm of astral bees than anything.”

“Astral bees,” he repeats with a laugh. “Laziest constellation interpretation I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not lazy,” you protest. “It’s accurate.”

Kuroo just smiles and shrugs, sneaking a glance at you. Your face is bathed in milky starlight, eyes wide as you peer up at the cloudless sky with a blend of wonder and appreciation. There’s some competition, but he thinks this might be the prettiest you’ve ever looked in a single moment.

As if you can feel his stare, you turn to catch his gaze. A gentle smile breaks onto your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with the endearing shyness of a schoolgirl. “What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, mirroring your grin. “You just… look nice right now.”

“No, seriously,” you laugh disbelievingly. “Is there something on my face?”

“I am being serious,” Kuroo insists, fidgeting with the blanket beneath his palms. “You look good. Yellow suits you.”

You flush, glancing down at your dress. You bought it two summers back, and he’s seen you in it a million times before. This is the first summer where he’s really seen you, though. “Well, thank you. It’s a warm night, so I figured I was better off in a dress than pants.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, breaking eye contact to squint up at the stars. He grins and points, finger trembling slightly. “I think I can see where you’re coming from, with the bees.”

one.

A staticky, syrupy waltz comes on the radio, bleeding into the cracks in the comfortable silence. You sigh contentedly, leaning back onto the windshield. “I like this song. It’s… nostalgic.”

Kuroo cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’ve heard this before?”

“No,” you laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. “But it reminds me of times gone by, you know? Like, this is the sort of music I imagine playing when a soldier reunites with his wife after the war.”

“When he comes running out of the train and drops his bags on the platform,” Kuroo continues, watching you carefully, “only to sweep his girl off her feet and spin her around wildly.”

You nod, sneaking a glance at him. “You really know me that well, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes crinkling with humor. “But I get it, too. It has that old fashioned romance thing goin’ on.”

“Mhm,” you agree. You reach over and fiddle with the radio’s volume, turning it up just enough to round out the sound completely.

Kuroo sits for a moment, watching you close your eyes and hum along to the music. Then, a sudden boldness taking the reins, he hops off the hood and walks over to you, extending his hand. “Take it.”

“What?”

“Take my hand,” he insists, so you do, gingerly placing your palm atop his. “We’re going to dance.”

“Oh, no,” you laugh, nonetheless letting him help you down from the car and resting a hand on his shoulder. He lightly places his own on your waist, leading you out into the parking lot. “You know I can’t dance.”

“I can’t either,” he reminds you. “But I want to dance with you right now.”

As you begin to sway slightly to the music, Kuroo pulls you a little closer to his chest, letting his chin brush the top of your head. “Why are you into that whole idea?”

“What idea?” you ask quietly, letting him lead you in slow circles around the lot.

“The idea of an old fashioned love.”

“Oh,” you say, laughing as Kuroo spins you in his arms, catching you before you stumble. “I’m not sure… maybe because it seems more constant than love today. Like, today, if you tell someone you love them, it’s a compliment, not a promise. But back then, it was a vow. It meant something.”

Kuroo swallows, looking down at you. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, threatening to burst out of his temples. I’m about to do something I might regret.

zero.

“I need you to do something for me,” he says, voice low and thick with caution. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Please,” he says, voice breaking. He knows that if he doesn’t do this now, he never will. You look beautiful to him in this moment, dancing with him in the empty parking lot to the faint melody of an old waltz. Your eyes glisten with life, your lips gently parted, hair slightly curling over your cheeks.

You roll your eyes once but nonetheless close them obediently, relying a little more on his arms to steady you. He swallows. “Okay. So, imagine we’re living in the 1940s.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling slightly. “I’m imagining.”

“Imagine I enlisted in the war, and I just got back home. Imagine you’re waiting for me at the train station.”

“Mhmm,” you say, trying your best to envision the platform. “You look good in that uniform, Tetsu.”

He chuckles. “I look good in anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, squeezing his hand. “Get on with it.”

“Imagine I come sprinting out from the train and you’re waiting there with open arms. This song is playing on the platform speakers. I ask you to dance just like we are now.” Kuroo watches you grin, feeling his heart flutter. “Then, imagine I tell you something.”

Unconsciously, you shift closer to him, almost pressing your body flush to his. A breath hitches in his throat. “What do you tell me?”

He leans down, brushes his lips against your ear. “I love you.”

You open your eyes, head cocked, slight confusion cloaking your features. “You mean, like…?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “No. I mean, like, I love you. Not just in a friend way. In that old fashioned way you were talking about. I love everything about you. I’m in love with everything about you.”

“Tetsu…” you breathe, searching his face. He gazes down at you seriously, not a trace of humor tainting his stare. He takes a deep breath.

“I love the way your hair falls in the summer. I love your stupid, annoying laugh. I love how your hand fits in mine. I love the way you rant about anything and everything and expect me to listen, and I do because I can’t help but get excited about what you get excited about. I love you like a soldier loves his wife,” he says, the words flowing out like a river bursting from a dam. “I love you so much it hurts, and it scares me, and I’m sorry if this ruins stuff between us, but I just had to--”

“Shut up.”

He blinks, mouth gaping. “I-- what?”

“I said,” you whisper, gripping the back of his neck and guiding his face down to yours. “Shut up, Tetsu. You talk too much.”

Then suddenly you’re kissing him, and he can’t believe it, but he kisses you back like it’s what he was born to do. He lets you crash your lips into his and watches as shooting stars burst forth and the planets align. Somehow, your hands find their way up into his hair, tangling themselves in his dark locks, and his own travel down to your lower back, pulling you as close as humanly possible, so tightly he never wants to let go. He revels in the warmth of your skin, the icy, tingly sensation of your lips, and when you pull back, it’s all he can do to refrain from pulling you right back in again.

There’s a brief silence. His lips are swollen, his lungs are devoid of air. “I… wow. Just, wow.”

You grin wickedly, slipping your hand into his. “I’ve been waiting to do that for a while now.”

“You have?” he asks, eyes wide in disbelief. “I didn’t notice.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you laugh. “You were too worried about not letting me notice you staring at my ass every chance you got.”

Kuroo flushes but gives a sheepish smile, massaging the back of his neck. “You know, I really thought I was being smooth about it.”

--

As it turns out, you love him back. And not just in the best friend way. You love everything about him, his stupid jokes, his loud, booming laugh, his teasing, his smile, his successes and his failures. You love how your hand fits in his. You love that it took him years and years to admit to himself that he loved you, too.

Kuroo Tetsurou may not be the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s certainly the only one you want. And you’re certainly the only one he wants.

And that’s really the most you could ever ask for.

[sashi-ya]

{+18} - Law x Fem Best Friend ♥ CH. 5 – FINAL PART

♥ Daily living with the Heart pirates crew AU. ♥ Spoilers after Dressrosa Arc. Law´s backstory. Wano kuni arc.  ♥ Female reader. Little physical description. Everybody is 18+, canon ages.  ♥ TW: NSFW, violence. Drama (a lot of it), some broken bones. And fluff, a lot of it. No further warnings. If you think I should include some feel free to tell me ♥A/N: thank you so so much for reading until the end of this story. I enjoyed writing these chapters so much! I hope you enjoyed it as much as me. I’ll be pleased to accept any request or commentaries on this or other fics.

Word count: 5.0K

» List of parts: {CH1}  {CH2}  {CH3} {CH4}«

 Chapter 5

Next thing I remember was opening my eyes and seeing Law’s face. He was carrying me in his arms, my hearing went from a loud buzzing to his voice. “Y/n-ya, answer me, come back, are you with me??”, my best friend kept asking me while running. I gave him a smile, and the only thing I could say to him was, “I’m sorry”, until I passed out again. 

The night sky was deep blue, full of stars and a big moon that enlightened the whole room. I recovered my senses a few hours after, since Law has saved my life, once again. He was next to me, brushing his hand over my forehead, looking straight at the door with his katana on the other hand. I was lying on my bed. Around me, a whole disaster, everything I owned was scattered over the floor. 

Once again, the first words that came out from my mouth were “I’m sorry”. I have put my whole crew, Law, and even my life in danger just because of my stupid pride… My personal doctor smiled at me and told me to shut up. He began to cry, openly, looking directly to my face. He was not hiding under his hat, not even over my chest. He was showing me how hurt he was, and this was for sure the very first time I’ve seen him cry like this. “I am the one who should be sorry. I left you alone, I abandoned you. Everything because I was scared, because I didn't want to accept how much I love you, I was afraid of changing, of putting you in danger. Look how you’ve ended because of me, they were searching for me…” he said, hitting his chest with his hand in a fist. He continued, “That’s the reason I wouldn’t really admit that the love I felt was more than just caring for a friend… I’m sorry Y/n-ya. I’m sorry… everything I said, it was a lie… I’ve loved you since...forever. You were always my star, the only person I could look at, when I was in the dark, you shine so bright, you light up my soul…”. I tried to get up from bed, but a throbbing pain on my ribs stopped me from it. “ugh… Law…”, he told me to remain still on bed, and informed me that 5 of my left ribs were broken. I wanted to say so many things, to tell him it was alright, that I wanted to go back to the polar and resume our journey as if nothing happened, but… it wasn’t that easy, I was hurt too. I remained silent, looking through the window, searching for the best words to say, to express everything I had inside my chest. 

I finally decided to speak. Law was still crying, but he wouldn’t guard down, he was protecting me. I said, “Oi, dumbass… how did you find me?”, “I followed your vivre card, of course” he answered sobbing. “Yeah, but… how did you get here so fast? where were you?”, I asked. I guess his cheeks turned to red, he seemed as if he was blushing, and after stuttering a little, he confessed, “I.. we.. I stayed in the submarine on the other side of the island, I was scared. Everybody agreed on waiting for you…”. 

He was always here?... of course, he was, his vivre card would always point to the same place. And... that time I went exploring the whole island, I thought I saw the guys in the distance, on the shore… I... thought it was just my imagination… I began to cry and laugh at the same time, covering my eyes with my hands. “I love you, dumbass. I love you more than anything, you were always here, you didn’t abandon me”. Suddenly I was so happy, I knew he wouldn’t leave me, I knew he would always protect me... I knew it. I was full of joy...  

Law laid next to me in bed, softly because he knew how hurt I was, hugged me and kissed my forehead. He had the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. He looked so relieved. The warmth I felt on my chest when I had his vivre card over, I was now feeling it all over my body. 

We stayed like this for a few minutes until Law said, “You need to rest, and I need to be alert in case some more bastards come”. I calmed him, “they won’t come here, they think we are on the submarine, leaving this city… Do you remember your vivre card?”. He looked at me, worried. I continued, “I’m sure you think that yonkou’s subordinates have found and stolen your vivre card from here, right?”. He nodded and said, impatient, "yes, when I was beating the shit out of them, I heard that they have finally found it, how come they don't have it?". “If I have learned something from you throughout all of this years is to plan things out… Yesterday morning, before leaving home I got the feeling that I should carry your vivre card with me…” I slowly pulled the little paper from my bra and showed it to him. He widened his eyes and was about to say something, but I resumed speaking like a smart detective, “Yet, a few days ago I thought of how dangerous it was that someone could find your vivre card, my dear ex Shichibukai…so, I made a fake one, I used some fish scales that I took from a fish of the river to make it, write your name on it, and leave it on that little box you now see empty over the dresser. So, I think they might be following that fish...”. Law’s face was priceless, at first, he was dumbfounded, but a few seconds later we both burst into laughing. 

Despite how painful it was to laugh with a few broken ribs I couldn’t help it. It was too funny, and it was the first time I laughed since a long long time. I missed those days when we were younger, had no place to stay and even if the cold was getting into the bones, a few stupid phrases of Bepo or Penguin made us laugh uncontrollably. It was, after all, our "Laugh Tale".

“Oi, you should eat something, are you hungry?”, asked my doctor, to which I replied with a sexy smile “I am hungry for you, doc”. “I’d love to fuck you right here, right now, as hard as I want, but It wouldn’t be ethic, you’ll be in pain…” he said straightforwardly to my face. I gasped; I love how Law gets when he is horny… “Now, tell me where the food is, I’m going to cook something”, he said and I pointed to a few groceries that were still on the counter. 

Law gathered a few of the things that were scattered all over the floor and promised me to clean everything up tomorrow. He was acting like a husband, how cute.

I contemplated how he focused on cooking frowning. The last time I saw him cooking was when we were little, sometimes he woke me up with breakfast, sometimes he would broil some potatoes, but somehow every time he did, his eyes got sad. So, before Penguin, Shachi and Bepo arrived I normally cooked for him.  

“Here, let me help you sit on the bed”, he said, bringing two plates of some risotto he made for us. He left the plates over the floor, hugged me, put a pillow behind my back and sat me on the bed. 

“Mmmh, where did you learn to cook risotto, Law? This meal is delicious!”, I said, delighted with the taste of the food. He looked at me with one of his cheeks poofed with food and smiled with his eyes. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that smile, I’m so in love with him, damn it…

The foliage of the trees that surrounded my little room began to move every time the autumn breeze blew through them. Everything was so calm. I felt as if no more danger was around me, as if nothing that could happen from now on, could be worse than being apart from Law. 

We chatted for a little bit while eating, we were happy, no worries, Law never stopped smiling and neither did I. He helped me to lay down on bed again, and he did the same next to me. “I love you”, Law whispered to me while grabbing my face with his hands, softly caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. Our noses touching, both smiling. “I love you too…”.

Morning came and a sweet smell of honey woke me up. Law was softly kissing my forehead with a cup of tea on his hands. “Good morning darling, I made you a green tea with honey”. I covered my mouth trying not to laugh, but it was impossible. I broke out laughing. Don’t get me wrong, I thought that what he did was the most cute thing ever… but… can you imagine Trafalgar D. Water Law being all cute and romantic? “This is the first time you call me “darling”, I’m sorry”, I said and kept giggling. His face changed to a poutier one so I stopped laughing, “I’m sorry Law… I mean… babe?.” I said and took a sip of the tea. 

He gave me a little smirk, and directed his sight to the floor while saying, “I’m ok with any name you call me, I like “babe”, It makes me happy”. This was the first time I saw him in love, and it was… with me. 

After breakfast, he washed the dishes and called Bepo. “Aya aya, Captain!! how are you? is Y/n with you? is she ok?!”, screamed the polar bear on the other side of the line. “Oi Bepo, yes, she is with me, she is ok. Are you ok? did you notice something suspicious or any movements last night?”. Ah… Law, always talking like he is some sort of a secret agent of the marines…. “Captain, Penguin speaking. We saw two ships leave the coast at night, they got the Beast pirates flag. They didn’t see us; we were hiding as you told”. “Perfect, Y/n-ya has five broken ribs, I put them in place, but she will have to rest on the mainland for a few days, the pressure of the submarine could make the pain worse if she goes immediately underwater. Please, keep informing me at any suspicious movement. And don’t worry, they aren’t following my vivre card”, Law informed my nakamas and hung up the den den mushi. 

“Y/n-ya... darling… I should change your bandages and treat your wounds, are you up for it?”, he asked like the good doctor he is. “Yes, honey, let’s do it. I’m sure you already know, but there are some supplies in the bathroom, but If they aren’t enough, you could go and ask Dr. Saturn, I’ve been working with him as his medical assistant”, I told him. He looked at me, and suddenly his eyes turned to fire. Law rarely loses his taciturn countenance, but that time his face transformed into pure hate. “What is it?”, I asked him without any clue of what was happening. “That bastard, that “doctor”, he sold you to the pirates”, he almost shouted. Profoundly shocked, I mumbled “What? how… how did you know?”. “I investigated while we were apart, I didn’t mean to follow you or else, but… I was worried, I wanted to protect you… even though I let these things happen to you”, he said now with a guilty tone, while unfolding the bandages. “It’s ok, it’s now over, from now on we will be together to protect us” ... I told him with a side smile that soon turned into a little wince. 

Soon I was left with no bandages on my body, my torso naked, covered in bruises and scuffs. Law softly brushed some cotton embedded on alcohol over the scuffs, he was so delicate that It felt almost as a tickle sensation. His hands always worked as stethoscopes because of the Ope Ope no mi, so he then placed a hand over my heart and checked my heartbeat. The cold breeze and the soft touch of his hands over my nipples made them turn hard, and a little gasp slipped out of my mouth. The touch of skin over mine lit a fire inside of me.

Law looked at me top to bottom, finally worshipping with his intense grey eyes, my boobs. Licking his upper lip, he slowly approached his mouth over one of my erect nipples. He licked it from bottom up, fixing his eyes on mine, smirking sexy. My body squirmed as the sensation of his wet tongue struck me with a wave of pleasure. Even if It hurt, even if I had a few broken ribs, that little action made me wish he fucked me hard, I needed to, I had a real lust for him. 

He kept on using his mouth, he would lick, softly bite, suck both of my tits, gently enough to avoid my ribs hurt. 

“Oi, let me put you some bandages, if not… we can’t continue…”, he said. And I, that I was lost in the arousal that Law was producing on me, agreed. He started folding my torso with the elastic bandages, the pressure over my skin that sometimes hurt, also contributed to the heat of the moment. “Imagine if instead of bandages, I used some ropes…” he softly whispers next to my ear from behind. 

I turned my face to the side and reached for his mouth. We kissed passionately, lustfully, erotically. 

The bandages were so tightly snuggled that I couldn’t feel any pain. Law managed to tight them perfectly so they could be holding my ribs but letting my breasts free of them. 

My lover delicately laid me down on the bed, took off his shirt and settled over me. Law ran his hand over my face, caressing my skin, while maintaining his weight with the other arm at the side of my head. I kissed his palm with the side of my mouth. This moment felt magical for us, our eyes interlocked with pure love for each other, it was more than just pleasure. He was making love to me, and I did too. 

His fingers travelled from my face to my sex, getting moistened with how wet I was. His tattooed index finger lingered over my clit tracing circles around and over it. A few moments later he put the finger on my mouth requesting me with a “taste your flavour” to lick his finger. I sucked it so lewdly, that made him groan loudly. 

He knelt in front of me and used his middle and ring finger with a “come hither” motion inside of me, spotting the G point, making me arch my back and moan loudly. And as if that pleasure wasn’t enough, he also used his tongue over my pleasure button. I cummed so hard, squirting his whole hand. 

Far from being exhausted I invited Law to release the bulge trapped into his trousers and to come near my mouth. “I want you to jack off and fuck my mouth, babe” I asked him with an inviting obscene tone. The surgeon gasped and as fast as he could took his pants off. I opened my mouth with my head over the pillow sticking my tongue out, awaiting to taste his sweet member. 

First, I licked it, then I grabbed it with my hands and placed it inside of my mouth. Law was so heated that couldn’t resist himself and hold my jaw in order to fuck my mouth, first cautiously, but then violently as he left himself go with the desire and the pleasure he was experiencing. I fixed my teary eyes on his, choking with the length and width of his hard rock pennis. He didn’t finish, but instead, went straight to fuck me. 

Again, he was settled over me, delicately penetrating me, with soft thrusts at first but increasing the pace with every pounding. He strongly held my wrists over my head while fucking me. 

Letting me go he approached his body to mine, letting the side of his abs slightly rest over my stomach in order not to put so much pressure over my ribs. He charged all of his weight over the right side of his body and his elbow on the bed and kept on fucking me. The penetration was slowly just for the both of us to feel every movement in detail. Law stroked my hair as I whined more and more with pleasure. We both came almost together, with our mouths pressed moaning “I love you”. 

Three days after, I felt better enough to take a walk, so after the guys confirmed that the city was free of dangerous enemies, we left the house for the first time. The fall had fully arrived at the island, warmth colours, chilly breeze that softly made some far away sunflower fields dance, the floor covered in dry red and brown tinted leaves, a few pumpkins that the citizen had on their porches, some shop owners already putting up Halloween decorations and a few kids playing on the street were part of the scenery of our walk. Law didn’t speak much as always, and I was enjoying how his tanned skin got bathed by the orangey tones of the afternoon sun. 

Eventually, we arrived at the city centre, where the local producers market was taking place. I told Law that I wanted to buy some flowers from Mrs. Ann stand at the fair as I always did. He smiled at me, showing he agreed, and I started almost running. I recognized that I could be a little childish and impulsive sometimes, especially for someone like Law. “Oi! don’t run babe!!” he warned me and grabbed my hand in order to stop me. I looked back at him; my hair got blown by the wind as well as my skirt. I gave him a wide grin, slid my arm so that he could now hold my hand and pulled him towards me. The very first seconds he looked so mad at me, but then he let himself go and followed my pace with a big smile. We were almost running, holding hands, making the crows and larks fly off the streets scared of us. 

“Hello Mrs. Ann, I’m here to buy you some pretty flowers, what bouquets do you suggest?” I asked the florist. “Hello, my dear! you seemed so happy today! who is this handsome young man that joins you today?!”, she said curious. My smile quickly faded, and I realized that we still haven’t talked about what we actually are, so, “Uhm… he is…”, “His boyfriend, I’m his boyfriend”, Law ended my sentence with a straight face. I blushed and giggled, I felt as if a hundred butterflies were flying inside of my stomach. Mrs Ann smiled at us, with genuine happiness, and said “So, this time we should let him pick the flowers for you, right young man?”. Law pointed to the sunflower’s bouquet and timidly said “Those, her favourite flowers are sunflowers, so I guess I’ll take those”. “Good choice boy, you know why sunflowers are so special? They usually face the sun, but whenever it is cloudy, they face each other so they get enough energy… Same goes with couples, whenever there are clouds in the sky, they should count on each other, until the sun comes back again, and both can enjoy it together”. Law smiled at her and then at me, I know for sure that we both count with each other, I know we do.  We bought some more groceries and ended up having a picnic on the fields. This life was somehow better than I thought, but soon our couple time should be over. Our journey must continue, our missions should be complete, and we were young, we would have plenty of time once we achieve our goals to grow old together. 

Two days after we returned to the submarine, and despite spending the last two days thinking of a better way to communicate with our crew that we… were dating, we couldn’t find the perfect way. Law was mortified, he hates to show emotions, and whenever our crew knows the big news, the amount of energy it's going to be too much to handle. 

We could sight the Polar Tang that was moored on the coast, everybody was on the deck waving at us, shouting our names. Law was slowly hiding under the coat collar with every scream, and I was waving at them. I have missed them so much. “Guuuuuys!! guuuuuys!!! oii!!” I screamed, Law grabbed my hand and said, “be careful, you are not fully recovered yet”. “I’m sorry doc, I’ll behave… I promise. That means also no more sex until I get fully healthy, right?” He looked at me with a “how dare you?” expression but I kept talking, “fufufu… don’t worry I was joking, I couldn’t say no to getting railed by you, babe…”. I winked at him and he smirked saying “You are a lost cause…”. 

The whole crew hugged me, expressing to me how much they have missed me, that I shouldn’t ever leave again and asked me why the hell I had left the submarine in the first place. I told them that tonight we should have a party and that Law, and I would explain everything in detail. My nakamas agreed on such a good plan and began to prepare everything to set sail. 

I saw Law carrying my stuff inside, so I followed him. He entered his room with my baggage, and I stopped at the door… “Law, why are you putting my stuff in your room?” I asked, a little confused. “We are going to sleep together from now on, this should be your room too, right?” I widened my eyes, what have I done to the cold emo boy I once knew? I was pleased but surprised for sure. “Well, I’m fluttered, are you willing to hear me snore every night from now on?”, I asked, mocking him. “I’m ok with hearing you snore, if that is the price I have to pay for fucking you every night and cuddling with you”, he said, with a calm attitude. We both laughed and he helped me to unpack everything. While putting everything in place I saw an old polaroid we took back at Dressrosa after the big fight over his nightstand, and over it there was the necklace I had returned to him last time I was in the submarine. “Oi, babe, can you put me the necklace back, please” I said, holding it in my hands and showing it to him. Law smiled, approached me, and while he passed the chain on my neck, he said “Next jewel I’d like to put on you will be a ring…”. I giggled a little and kissed his cheek. 

The night came and we were already in the middle of the sea, the sky was garnished with little stars that lit up our party, and the guys were drinking, dancing, and shouting.  I decided that I’ll never leave them again, whatever comes to us, whatever happens between Law and I, this was my family, and I would be always with them no matter what. 

I went inside looking for a blanket because the night breeze at the open sea could be quite cold. We usually keep some blankets in a little room next to the kitchen for easy access in case we emerge, and someone has to guard on the outside. Suddenly someone hugged me from behind. I instantly recognized my beloved sweet scent. He placed his chin over my shoulders, and his hands wrapped around my low stomach. We remained like this for a few moments, enjoying our company, dancing to the music that came from outside. We began to kiss gently, and Law closed the little door. We laughed while our lips were still pressed and then with our foreheads also. The joy and intimacy I experienced was so cute, as if we were just married… "stop, let me help us with something, SILENTO" I said, and snapped my fingers, creating a safe space where nobody in the submarine could listen to us with the power of my Nagi Nagi no mi. "Nobody can hear us now, we can be as naughty as we want'' I told him with a lascivious expression while grabbing him by his chin. That probably fanned the flames even more, so he pushed me against the wall and while kissing me, he started unbuttoning my trousers, and then almost ripping my panties off too. He put 2 fingers on my mouth for me to suck on them just to made them wet with my saliva. He shoved them into my pussy and moved them as he only knew how to. While he was fingering me, with the hand that until then was on my breast, he took off his pants revealing a huge erection that was about to be inside of me. 

He grabbed one of my thighs, holding it up, just to spread my legs even more so he could fuck me even deeper, right there, standing, with my back pressed against some sort of metallic wall. I wasn't able to think anything besides how I wanted him to fulfill me with his hard cock. He fucked me so hard, I almost lost full control of my limbs, thank God he was holding me as If I weighed anything less than a feather. Damn, how strong he is. We let ourselves go, and after lustfully enjoying our fleshly lusts, we decided it was time to come back to the party. We were unaware that we climbed the leather to the deck holding hands and smiling at each other, so all of a sudden, the music stopped, as well as the murmur of the crew. Shachi shouted, “I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! of course everything that happened was because of this!” I closed my eyes, waiting for Law to shout and order them to shut the fuck up, but instead he said, “Of course it was because of this, it doesn’t take too much to come up to the conclusion… you idiot”. I started laughing, followed by my nakamas. The whole night came by with us celebrating my return to the submarine and the new couple...

 A few adventures and two years after. End of the Grand Line, Laugh Tale Island…

I could still hear Mugiwara and Law laughing, we have achieved the last island, and you won't believe what the “One Piece” was, but that is  just a whole different story that maybe I’ll tell you about it other time. 

I was over the deck of the Polar Tang, admiring the beauty of the island that left the horizon back at us… I was thinking how many things we have been through to finally get here. Life hasn’t been easy to none of us, but surely, we made it happier, together. I wonder what our future has prepared us from now on. 

A strong wind blew my hair, and I could sense as if someone was behind me. I thought it was Law, but when I turned around, I saw a blond man, wearing a blue feather coat, a heart patterned shirt and a hat that I could recognize real fast. His image wasn’t clear, but I could see him though. “Hello, Mrs. Trafalgar, please don’t freak out. I’m sure you know who I am… I came here to thank you. Thank you for taking care of my little boy, how big he got…”. I knew he was “Cora-san”, I wasn’t scared, I knew he was the kindest person in the world. “Thank you, Mr. Rosinante, you saved Law’s life, I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done for him. He is who he is for you”. The guy with a blue mark under his right eye, and some lipstick that made his smile even bigger, nodded and said, “by the way, congrats, Rosinante could be a great name, plus it goes well with the D…”. Next, I heard Law calling me “Y/N-ya, what are you doing here all by yourself?”, I turned around and he was coming my way, with a confused expression. I looked back at where Rosinante was, but he had already disappeared. 

 Law hugged me, he was happy and placed his head on my chest. “Did I tell you how much I love to hear your heart beating?”, he asked me still with his head over my chest. “You did, darling, it won’t ever stop beating for you”. Law smiled but suddenly his face turned to a more serious one. He stopped hugging me, and asked with a worried face, “Babe, how many hearts do you have?”, “You are a cardiac surgeon, I’m sure you know how many hearts I have, Law”, I said laughing. “Yeah, because I know that people normally have one, it’s not normal that I hear two hearts beating inside of… wait…” He stopped talking, looked at me and concluded everything in no time. “Babe… are you?... Am I going to be... a father?”, he said with tears on his eyes. “Congratulations, daddy”, I said, and Law hugged me so tight, holding me up in the air crying with pure joy in his heart. We remained hugged until a little bird flew past over us and a blue feather felt over us… 

The End ♥

Thanks for reading! I’m open for requests, so if want me to, just ask ♥ 

[missmonsters2]

Between the Lines || XII

PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.

[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]

Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.

Note: Introducing....David’s king 😏🥰

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII || PART IX || PART X || PART XI

PART XII of XX

Translations:

не против - Don’t mind

ти си моето семејство, во овој и во следниот живот - You’re my family, in this life, and the next.

Count: 5,633

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Ah..."

The sound made you stop, pulling your mouth away as you stood straighter while licking your lips. 

Wanda stood in front of you, breathless as she leaned against the wall, unable to move too much with the tight space. Her hands drifted from your neck to rest on your biceps. Turning, you look at the mirror before you. 

Eyes red with stained lips, you internally sighed, feeling an uncomfortable pit in your stomach that told you everything felt both right and wrong. 

"I think that's enough..." You say quietly so Wanda can hear, but you don't attract too much attention outside. You turn to grab some paper towels from the dispenser as you wet them under the sink to wipe your mouth. 

Turning to Wanda, you notice you hadn't closed up the wound on her neck and purse your lips. The brunette seems to realize as well as she tilts her head to the side, exposing her neck to you once more before she grabs the edge of your bomber jacket and pulls you back against her roughly.

"Wanda," you call her name in warning. Though you are a seasoned vampire, you weren't looking to dance along the edge with the newly feeding you have to do.

"You should finish me off before you say you're done at least," Wanda says, and you feel yourself biting your tongue at how suggestive she sounds.

You wonder if she's doing it on purpose. 

Nonetheless, you sigh, leaning your head down, careful to not brush yourself more against her than you must. You lick at the bite wounds, tentatively but quickly, watching the wounds close after.

You pull away, Wanda letting her grip go on you. You use the wet towel to wipe her neck clean of the bloodstains before you throw it down the toilet and flush.

Though feeding gives you energy and revitalizes you, you can't help but feel drained from the experience. 

You're about to leave again when Wanda pulls you back.

"Wanda," you say in a more serious warning this time. She's been a little more daring the past couple of days, and you're both intrigued and frightened by it. 

Luckily for you, Wanda seems to know where the line is. 

"Relax," Wanda cocks her brow. "Your eyes are still glowing red. You should wait until it subsides before you go out."

You look back in the mirror, eyes glowing red brightly, and you sighed. Your body was overly excited about feeding again, and it would take time to adjust.

The two of you idly stand in the small space. You could hear people coming back and forth to check if the washroom is empty.

"So, how often is often?" Wanda asks.

You stand stiffly, cursing at how small airplane washrooms are.

"For now, once a week," you answer her. "But let me know if you feel unwell, and I will check to see if it's my venom."

Wanda nods, blinking languidly.

"I'm sorry," you say when you notice she looks tired. "I promise I will find a way to fix this."

Wanda gave you a tiny smirk. 

"No rush."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When you returned to your seat, you sat down with a sigh.

"You alright?" Natasha asked as she grabbed your hand. You turn to look at David. He was clutching his legs in tighter so that Wanda could squeeze past him to her seat. 

"Yeah, sorry for taking so long. The red in my eyes are still adjusting to fresh blood," you apologize to Natasha, pulling her hand to kiss the back of it gently before you settle in your seat.

It was just you and Natasha in the aisle, a small moment of peace that you're thankful for. It's been rather quiet between you and Natasha the last few days. When David had located Leo's descendant, he wanted to book the flight for the next day, but you insisted on taking a couple days to get your things together and rest. 

The days that followed were simply being in your home with Natasha, quiet as it seemed like Natasha was working through her own emotions and things she seemed not ready quite yet to speak to you about. 

And you were okay with that. 

"Have you been to Nashville before?" Natasha asks as she looks out the window, the city getting closer in view as it lowers. 

You nod, rubbing your thumb idly on the back of her hand. "Yes," you say, "In fact, David and I lived there for a few years."

"Oh?" Natasha smiles. "Did you like it?"

You shrug. "It's a little too country for me and not the good parts of Country culture." 

Natasha nods, and you take a moment to put your head on her shoulder, deeply inhaling the scent of vanilla and dry leaves. Natasha leans her head over, pressing her lips to the side of your head, causing your heart to flutter.

"I think I want to be in Bora Bora or maybe the Maldives," Natasha says softly after a moment. 

You turn your head upwards slightly, peering up at Natasha's face.

"I'll take you anywhere you want to go," you say as Natasha smiles, head lowering as she presses her lips against yours.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

It seems like autumn is also coming to an end in Nashville, the air smelling a little crisper for winter arrival. 

Pietro has called Wanda again once her plane landed. He was a little upset that he couldn't come along, but Steve said he could use the help with locating Bucky, and speed would definitely be helpful.

At first, Pietro declined, but then Wanda insisted that he go with Steve. If they were going to make up for the things they've done and be a part of the team, this was the time to show it.

And so, they parted ways for the first time since, well, ever. 

"How are we getting there?" Wanda asked as she looked around the airport. Her face held a thinly veiled layer of discomfort that she was trying to hide, though poorly.

"Are you okay?" Natasha asked as she looked at Wanda, seeing through the tough act.

Wanda stared at Natasha, and for a moment, you don't think she's going to answer.

"Yeah," Wanda says finally, licking her lips and swallowing. "I'm just a little tired...and there's a lot of people here. It's...loud."

Natasha looks around and notes that it seems to be prime time for flights. People are bustling around trying to get to their gate on time, and families have gathered to meet people coming off the plane or say goodbye. 

"I can't do anything about the loudness," Natasha says, digging into her pocket. "But, here." Pulling out a hard candy wrapped in transparent paper, she gives it to Wanda.

Wanda holds the candy in her palm, tilting her head slightly before she looks back at Natasha. "Thanks."

"Might help with the tiredness," Natasha shrugs before she tells you she'll go grab the bags and walks off with David following her. 

Wanda is opening the candy from the wrapper, popping the little thing in her mouth as she sighs, eyes fluttering close as she rubs her temple. 

"Headache?" You ask her, garnering her attention.

Wanda nods with a frown. "Yes, more so lately, and it's worse in a crowd. I can hear everything in people's heads, and in a crowd, it's a jumble."

"Turn it off," you tell her with a shrug, and she gives you a look.

"It's not that easy."

"It is," you tell her back. "You're like a radio picking up every station is the available area. It gets easier with time and practice to distinguish the noise, but if you can't handle it in such a large crowd, turn it off."

Wanda merely stares at you as if she doesn't know whether or not to believe you, but she supposes because it's not like you're a stranger to her powers, she sighs.

"How?" She asks.

You come to stand closer to her, blocking her view of anything behind you.

"Focus," you tell her, "You only need to be hearing one voice, and that's your own. Focus on the space within your own mind. Live there."

Wanda gives you a look where it tells you she doesn't quite think it will work but closes her eyes with a sigh and takes a deep breath.

"I...I can't focus," Wanda says frustratingly. 

"Relax," you tell her. "Try again, but this time, focus on my voice."

You go on to talk about miscellaneous things like the color of the walls, the scuff marks on the ground, the man with an obstinately ugly hat. And before you know it, the stress lines on Wanda's face begin to fade.

"Better?" You ask when she opens her eyes.

"Yeah," Wanda says breathlessly with relief, "Thank you."

You don't say anything else as Natasha comes back with David.

"So, how are we getting there?" Wanda repeats.

"We rented a car. I'll go grab it and pull it up front," you walk off before anyone say anything.

The ride is silent, with just a radio playing quietly in the background. It's you and David in the front as David helps you navigate and discuss details with you.

But that leaves Natasha and Wanda in the back. The two girls are on opposite ends, looking out the window. 

You sigh internally as you focus on the road in front of you.

"What's his name again?" 

David pulls up a file. "Robert," he says after a moment. "Devayan. He is Leonard's great-great-grandson. He's the priest for a church in his neighborhood. Well-known and respected in his community. He's got a wife, two kids, and a dog—very American dream with a picket fence and all."

You hum. 

"Does Leonard's descendants know about...?" Natasha asks as you look in the rearview mirror. 

"Us being vampires?" You supply for her helpfully with a smile as she nods. "Yes, they do, but the secret is only passed to the child who has the greatest alchemy affinity, which most kids won't show until they're at least 13."

"That being said," David jumps in, "we haven't really kept in touch because we only go to a descendant when we have another vampire entering a coven because they have to get the searings to be able to go into the sun, amongst other things. And as you can see, we haven't added anyone new since me."

You turn into a bright community. The sound of children's laughter and dogs barking make their way to your ear. It's a lively little suburban neighborhood, and you wonder if this was something you would have ever wanted. 

"Leonard seemed to be really close to you, to be willing to do so much," Wanda comments as she continues to stare at the window at the children playing. 

You pull up to the house, putting the car in park with a sigh.

"He was family."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

"Sorry, the wife and kid's are out shopping right now."

You look at the man before you. He was a young priest, and there were hints of Leo that you recognized in him, like the subtle ginger hair. 

"Didn't want to tag along?" David asks, and Robert laughs.

"Goodness, no. Can't say that's how I like to pass my time." Robert sets down a tea tray for the four of you, and Wanda takes up the task of pouring it. Putting in a splash of milk and two and a half sugar cubes, she gives a cup to you.

"Thanks," you say, scrunching your eyebrows initially. But it was your favorite way of taking simple tea, and you took it with ease. 

"не против," Wanda mutters as she continues on with pouring tea for Natasha and David, but leaves them to put in their own condiments.

"So, what's this about?" Robert asks as he settles into his seat. 

You shift in your seat a little, licking your lip before you clear your throat and bring his attention to you. "Yesterday is gone, tomorrow is a mystery, and today, I have you..."

Robert just stares at you wide-eyed and mouth gaped open. He seems to regain himself and clears his own throat.

"Until the days run out..." he breathes.

"ти си моето семејство, во овој и во следниот живот," you both complete the passage. His Slavic being much rougher than yours, but still, he completes it.

"Huh," Robert grunts in the back of his throat. He slumps in the back of his chair, blinking as he clasps his hands together. "You really exist."

"Did you think I didn't?" You cocked your brow at him. 

Robert gives a short, humorless laugh. "To be fair, no one in my family has seen you for a very, very long time. It's not like we have a family photo of you just lying around. I thought my grandfather was lying to me, and my father was not a believer either."

"Well," you shrug, "It gets hard to keep up with visitations when there's no reason to really."

"Even though the passage literally says we're family?" Robert cocks his brow.

"Leo was my family. By that extension, yes, you are somewhat family, a wonderful legacy Leo left behind that I promised him I'd take care of," you try to delicately tell the man before you that no one could ever be family the way Leo was.

"Kind of hard to take care of us when you're not around," Robert says, but not in an unkind way.

"Being around is not the only way I can fulfill my promise. You truly think your family's trust fund just comes out of nowhere?" You rest your jaw against your hand. 

Robert seems surprised at that like he had no idea his entire family line was sponsored by you. 

"So it seems," Robert smiled softly before clearing his throat. "So what can I do for you?"

You lick your lips.

"I'm looking for you to find a way to break my curse, or at least, find a counterspell to suppress it until I can find another way," you tell him.

Robert stares at you. It takes a long moment, but he gives another small smile, sighing deeply as he grasps his temples. "Hah..." he lets out. "Figures the one time you come to see us for help, and I can't even help you. I was hoping you just needed a place to stay."

"What do you mean?" David asks, frowning. "You haven't even tried."

Robert looks up again, staring at David before he turns to you.

"I don't have the affinity for alchemy."

Silence ensues after Robert reveals his lack of gift. 

"You...don't have the affinity..." David says slowly.

"Guess it decided to skip a generation. My father wasn't much of a practitioner either," Robert pursed his lips together. He gets up, walking over to the kitchen, grabbing something off the refrigerator before coming back and passing the item to you. "This would be the person to go to if you're looking for help on that."

You look at the postcard in your hand with an address from Vermont. 

There wasn't anything else but a name and a short message.

Liam Bai I have settled in. 

"And who is this?" You frown. The idea of having some outsider know your secrets was not ideal. 

Robert sighs.

"He's my adoptive brother."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The annoyance of traveling all the way to Texas just to go to Vermont, an hour away from New York, irks you slightly. 

David pulls up a file on Liam on the way, but not too much is found. 

Chinese descendant. 26. Tattoo Artist. Adopted by Robert's grandfather when Liam was 17. 

He seems to run a small tattoo shop in Vermont, a decent following on his Instagram. Other than that, it seemed Liam prized his privacy and peace. No tickets, no personal social media accounts, a minimal online presence. 

"Jeeze, this guy gives me serial killer vibes. Only weirdoes have such a small digital footprint," David curls his lips. 

"We all have virtually none too, David," you cock your brow at him.

"Case and point," David smirks back at you while Natasha and Wanda chuckle.

Liam's house is a little away from the city where his tattoo shop resides. There are houses but quite spread apart, and it only reaffirms how Liam likes his quiet. 

The trees are bare with autumn colored leaves on the ground. The air crisp and cleaner being away from the city. When the four of you approach Liam's home, it a quaint house, wider than it is taller, and painted a deep burned orange. 

Hopping up the steps, you cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently, turning to look at the open space while Natasha rang the doorbell and knocked on the door with her knuckles.

You hear footsteps within the house, stern steps as they lazily make their way to the door. 

When it opens, you turn, and your eyes widen along with everybody else's.

This man, at least six feet tall, towers over everyone as he casually lifts his arms high to lean against each side of the door with his left leg crossed lazily over his right. 

He wears a muscle shirt, most of the top part of his body exposed. 

Tattoos. 

Everywhere.

A large black ornate religious cross tattooed on his throat, while you could see most of the creations of hands branded across his front chest near his collarbones, fingers just about it meet at his jugular notch. Each arm had a full sleeve tattoo. 

His left arm was designed with a twisted snake going downwards, a bitten apple in its mouth, shrouded with leaves and vines. His right arm were things you didn't quite recognize but could guess it was alchemy spells, fully tattooed elaborate circles and symbols. Even his hands and fingers had symbols and shapes. 

He looks like belongs in a gang rather than the adopted grandson of a long line of priests. 

"Well," his voice is somewhat low but soft. "You must be the visitors my dear brother sent my way." The way he says dear brother has the slightest tone of amusement, and you're not sure what to make of it. 

You stare at him a bit longer because his face is much clearer than the photo David pulled up. His skin is fair with a cool complexion, thick brows, and tousled black hair that seems to be perfectly styled that way with his fringe cascading just above his eyebrows, parting to reveal his forehead. His almond-shaped eyes showed a deep dark brown, like the rich soils of the earth, but yet hold no warmth. 

He looks somewhat familiar, but you're not sure if it's just because you recognize those eyes in yourself once upon a time.

You look over to David, who has his jaw hanging as he stares at the man before them. You nudge him, drawing him out of whatever trance he was in as he coughs to clear his throat.

"Er, yes," David stutters before he rambles off everyone's name quickly. "Can I--can we come in?" David blinks, and Liam turns his head slowly, locking eyes with David. A moment passes, and you're about to speak up again when Liam stands straighter and turns to walk back into his house.

The four of you follow the man inside, looking at the place around you. Antique furniture, just like yourself, but there are shelves upon shelves of books. 

Liam walks into his kitchen, putting on a pot of hot coffee as he pours himself some, but doesn't offer any to anyone else. He then walks into his study room and leans against his desk, half-sitting on the edge.

"What are you looking for help with?" He asks, neither sounding reluctant or eager. 

"Robert mentioned you were adopted into the family because you had an affinity for alchemy," you say. "I'm assuming you know--"

"That you're a vampire?" Liam cuts in. "Yes."

"You don't seem surprised by that," David interjects slowly. "Even Robert was taken aback."

Liam rolled his eyes lightly. "You can spare me the details. Robert and I both went through the spiel with his grandfather. Robert doesn't have the affinity. I do. Belief is different when you are different too."

"His grandfather...?" You raise your brow.

Liam puts his coffee down beside him. "You must realize that though I've been adopted by them, I'm not an actual descendant of Leonard Devayan. It was clear that I was brought in to help fulfill the promise between you and Leonard. I get financial support from them, but I'm not entitled to your trust fund to them, nor can I inherit the church."

"That's kind of fucked up, considering you'll be doing all the work here," you frown. 

Liam shrugs. "No need to feel sorry for me, I have zero interests in their money or inheriting the church, and Robert is annoyingly persistent that I visit them during the holidays. Besides, you can probably tell, I don't quite look like the regular priest."

"Actually," you give Liam a small smile, "Leo was rather similar to you. He liked tattoos as well. Though, just on his hands. He wasn't as adventurous."

Liam gave a small smirk but moved on. "So," he takes a breath, "What exactly are you looking for help with. Robert wasn't clear on the phone. Are you looking to turn more people and need searings for the sun?"

"No," you breathe, "I need you to help figure out how to end my curse."

Liam stares at you for a moment. The curse wasn't discussed in great length to him as not too much information was passed down because Leonard believed you wouldn't try to ask to remove it again. 

Still, he eyes you before he turns and studies Natasha a bit before Liam looks at Wanda.

"You bit her, spreading your curse to her," Liam deduces. 

"How do you know it's Wanda?" Natasha asks with a slight narrow of her eyes.

Liam licks his lip as he stands up, using his fingers to gesture everyone to follow up. He walks up to his bookshelf and pulls a book down like a lever, and the entire bookshelf splits and makes way into a secret room.

Inside the room, there are rows of tables filled with papers and things you would find in a science lab: beakers, stirring rods, mortars and pestles, and chemicals.

"In some ways, alchemy is a derivative from a witch's spells or magic. What do you think alchemy is?" Liam asks. 

"Leonard always said it was a power given to them by God to be able to protect themselves against the supernatural," you recall.

"Kind of, not really," Liam says as he walks over to grab a black chalk and begins to draw circles and symbols on the ground around Wanda, motioning her to stay in place. "There are different types and levels of alchemy. Alchemy, one on hand, can also be a science. It's changing one thing to something else. Anyone could practice it. Even Robert could to a degree."

Liam finishes drawing and drops the chalk to the side as he dusts off his hands. 

"But to have the gift for alchemy," Liam lifts his thumb to his lips, "Means your DNA has an affinity to the sun, the moon, the wind, or the earth." 

Liam bites down on his thumb hard enough to break the skin, blood rushing out, the smell assaulting both you and David instantly before Liam presses his thumb against the line of the circle. 

The air changes. 

A white, hot electric buzz fills the air as the alchemy circle flashes a bright blue for a second before returning to normal. The chalk drawing underneath Wanda disappears.

"What...happened?" Wanda asks slowly as she looks at her hands and the rest of her body, but she doesn't find anything amiss. 

Liam gestures at Wanda to check where her sternum is. Pulling the front of her shirt at the neck, she peers down. 

"What..." Wanda mumbles. 

Both you and Natasha looked at each other before moving forward to check, Wanda holding her shirt open for the two of you. Wanda's bra was blocking part of the view, but her sternum now visibly bore the curse's inscription. The black words on her skin and then dark-colored veins prominently spreading outwards from her sternum.

"What did you do to her?!" You whip your head towards Liam, snarling at him.  

He holds his hand up to calm you down.

"Nothing dangerous, relax," he cocks his brow at you. "As I said, Alchemy is about changing one thing to something else. I used the chalk as a medium to bring the curse to the front of Wanda's body so it can be visibly seen."

When you realize Wanda's not in any imminent danger, you pull your snarl back, and the red from your eyes fade away. 

"This will help you tell when the curse is spreading. Wanda's veins will darken and spread as her cells deteriorate. Don't EVER let the dark veins spread past her chest. If you do, the curse is meant to collapse her sternum and pierce her heart. She will die." Liam warns sternly, eyebrows furrowed together, and lips in a straight line. 

"How do you know?" David asks with a slight frown.

"As I said," Liam looked at David, "Alchemy is a derivative from witch's spell or magic. The inscriptions are alchemy transmutation spells. If an alchemist has an affinity for alchemy, they can tell when it's been used on someone." Liam turns to you. "That's how I know it was Wanda that you bit."

You nod curtly. You think about how the veins were just barely protruding from her sternum, so Wanda would be relatively safe for a while since you just fed on her during the plane ride to Texas.

"What did you mean that your DNA has an affinity to the sun, moon, wind, or the earth?" Natasha asks.

You turn your attention back to Wanda, trying to inspect if she was indeed okay. It wasn't that you didn't trust Liam, but you couldn't help but worry.

All of this was your fault.

The fact that Wanda was cursed with potentially no way of getting out of this.

And the complicated mess you know would only hurt everyone in the end, so you needed to get this shit sorted out.

"It means," Liam interrupted your thoughts. "I have an extra DNA strand."

You blink.

"Honestly, I don't blame people in the past, believing alchemy was a gift or power given by God," Liam shrugs. "In a way, I guess they're not wrong. Alchemy's affinity comes from people who have an extra DNA strand from one of the natural elements. The sun, the moon, the wind, the earth." He uses his fingers to count as he speaks. "Having an extra DNA strand is a...mutation. The deformity being able to perform alchemy as a power. As you can guess, depending on what extra DNA strand you have, that's the alchemy you have an affinity to."

Natasha nods thoughtfully as she holds her chin. "I see. So the sun would be fire, the moon would be water, the wind would be air, and the earth is well...earth."

"Exactly," Liam nods.

"Leonard must've been fire," you say pensively to yourself, reminiscing. 

"What are you?" David asks Liam, licking his lips.

Liam tilts his head to the side.

"I have four extra DNA strands."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Something has been putting you on edge since you've arrived in Vermont.

"Are you okay?" Natasha asks softly, catching you look out the window for maybe the millionth time now. 

"Yeah, sorry," you breathe, uncrossing your arms. "It's just...something feels off," you tell her quietly, as to not attract the attention from others.

Liam and Wanda were currently looking over his books and scrolls to see if he could find anything that would help Wanda while David helped them.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asks as she takes a seat on the couch's armrest, pulling you closer, so you were between her legs. She rubs your arms up and down, hoping to comfort you.

"It's just..." you start to say before you turn sharply at the window again. Natasha's brows furrow, but she has no time to ask as you barrel into her while David tackles both Liam and Wanda to the ground. 

The glass of the window shatters as a body breaks through. It happens so fast, you hardly even have time to move, but you do. 

You smell burning flesh because there's still sun out, though it's setting. A snarl rips through the air as the intruder turns and leaps toward Wanda. David gets up, forcing his feet to push off the ground as he launches towards the vampire. The two of them collide into a blurring mess. 

Natasha starts to get up, but you hold her in place.

"What--"

"Don't," you warn her. "If that thing collides into you, your body will tear apart, enhanced, or not."

You get up, running over to David as he's pinned to the ground as you rip off the vampire. 

Even with his fleshed burned, he was strong. 

Liam scrambles to get up as he grabs another chalk nearby and starts drawing another transmutation circle on the ground as fast as he can. 

You're trying with David to get the upper hand on this vampire, one locking him into place while the other tries to rip his head off.

"Wanda," Liam calls, and she turns to him with worry in her eyes as she stands in the corner, unsure of what to do. "I'm creating a prison for him. You need to use your powers to place him in here and keep him down."

"Okay," Wanda says determinedly. 

You look at David, who nods in sync with you. You both let go of the vampire at once, and Wanda lifts her hands, casting her powers over the vampire to lock it in place.

He tries to thrash in place, but it's impossible to move with Wanda's vice-like grip on him. She wobbly moves him until he's in the middle of Liam's transmutation circle. 

Liam bites in the same place of his thumb earlier, breaking the wound once more, letting a single drop of blood fall in. 

The ground starts to shake slightly as the floor where the vampire lies crumbles, giving way. The outline of the circle lights up, and suddenly, vine-like branches with spikes shoot out of the ground. It wraps around the intruding vampire, the spikes piercing his body. He screams out in pain, trying to move, but is unable to due to Liam.

The light fades, leaving the vampire bleeding out as he's trapped in his spot.

"What...was that?" Wanda asked, everyone clearly knowing that he was after her.

You help Natasha off from the ground, checking her for injuries. You find nothing other than a tiny cut on her cheek from a stray glass shard.

"I'm okay," Natasha assures you, more frustrated with herself for being unable to do anything. 

You frown, wiping off some of the blood with your glove before you turn to the offender on the ground. 

"That was so cool," David breathes as he looks at Liam, who is giving him a tiny smile.

With the vampire immobile, you could finally take a good look. 

He was somewhat sickly pale. His eyes were red, a dark red, meaning he wasn't hungry when he lunged for Wanda. 

But the thing that stood out the most to you what the prominent veins underneath his eyes.

And you've seen that before. 

"No," you frown in denial. 

"Where did you come from?" You demand, but the vampire just smirks.

You want to leap in to strangle the thing, but Liam holds your arm to hold you back. 

"Anything that steps into that circle will be roped in just like him," Liam warns.

The vampire continues to bleed out as it laughs.

"Wait--" David says, "he's actually dying. Look!"

Everyone looks to where David is pointing at, and you clench your jaw. As a vampire, the only thing that could kill you was wood from the Methuselah tree. Yet, this vampire was disintegrating, turning to dust at his toes.

The vampire looks at you, and you feel a chill down your spine.

"How cute," he tells you, voice raspy as he's disappearing. "Looks like you have everything you've wanted."

You furrow your brows at him.

"Do I know you?" You say, but the vampire doesn't even seem conscious of the fact that he's speaking. 

"My love," he says, looking at you, and while you revolt, there's something familiar in the way he says it. 

Like you've heard it before.

"It seems you've learned how to want more," he smiles cruelly. "But if it's not more for the right things...then I'll show you what it's like to lose everything you have."

Your heart drops.

"Wait!" You shout, trying to somehow get him to stay, but before you could say anything else, the vampire completely crumbles to dust, leaving nothing behind.

All of you stare at the empty space. The shackles that were holding the vampire in place disappears along with the transmutation circle.

"No," you start to say quietly. "No, no, no, no--"

"Hey!" David grabs you, trying to keep you calm.

"This can't be," you say slowly.

"What? What's wrong?" David shakes you by the shoulder a little. 

You look at him.

"That was her."

Silence.

"What?" David says, not understanding. 

You look at the ground where the vampire used to be.

"I don't know how...but that was her," you say.

"That was Tatyana."

PART XIII