#when will i stop writing at the ungodly hours of the morning? also never!

[collapsedglasshouses]

NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER 2 AM [Nick Ruffilo x fem!Reader]

PAIRING: Nick Ruffilo x Noah's sister

WARNINGS: 18+, SMUT, MDNI!, protected p in v, fingering, handjob, reader’s hair is mentioned if that counts as a warning, counts nicky as a warning??, idk let me know if i forgot something, this is not really proof read sry

SUMMARY: Your brother Noah's best friend has always been your weak spot. Nothing ever happened and you eventually gave up hope. But things seem to take a turn when Nick visits for a weekend and you find him in the kitchen in the middle of the night.

(y/h/c) = your hair color; (y/e/c) = your eye color

A/N: This idea came to me while I was watching HIMYM (i still dont like ted but that is another story). Sooo, the title was inspired by it. Also we have a small mention of one of my favourite white boys Rory Culkin (: I hope you enjoy!

You sighed as you finally closed your laptop and stared at the wall straight ahead of you. You had finally finished writing one of your papers for university and could relax for a day or two. Normally, this would calm you down. But given the fact that your brother’s best friend was at your apartment at the moment, left you at unease.

You remembered Nick for at least half your life. Your older brother, Noah, had met him back in school and everything was so cliché about that. Your best friend in high school had a severe crush on Noah and given the fact that you were both teenagers raging through puberty, it was no wonder that you had laid eyes on your brother’s best friend.

Years later, with nothing effectively happening between you, you would think that this crush would fade out somehow, but to your surprise, when you saw him standing in your doorway that morning, it felt like you were fifteen again.

It wasn’t like this crush was never gone, you had a boyfriend or two in the meantime, but something about Nick had and will always catch you.

One look at your phone revealed that it was almost 2 AM. Your stomach reminded you that you had skipped dinner. Your brain told you it was because you needed to finish that paper, but your heart told you it was so you could avoid getting distracted by the sheer presence of Nicholas, who was only one room away from you, probably gaming with your brother.

The last couple of months, you had successfully avoided seeing Nick for more than a couple of minutes, even though this seemed like an almost impossible task. Since your brother and you had decided to rant out a flat together, so you could share costs, everything had changed. Noah left his old band and now he was almost always occupied planning a project. He wanted to start a new band and who better to ask than his best friend, who happened to be able to play the guitar.

You sighed as your tummy started to rumble again and finally got up from your desk to find something to eat. When you walked around the corner and into the kitchen you stopped in your tracks for second. Of course, this would happen. Sooner or later, you knew this would happen.

“Still writing on your paper?” Nick asked and drank a sip out of his glass. You felt how your gaze fixated on the tattoo on his hand for a second too long, so you shook your head for a second to get your thoughts out of your head. Unsuccessfully.

“Just finished.” You mumbled before stepping to the fridge. You just settled for a yoghurt since you didn’t want to cook anything at these ungodly hours. “What are you up to?” You asked him and leaned against the counter next to him, careful not to get to close.

“Noah fell asleep and occupied the whole bed with his legs, and now I can’t fall asleep, so I decided to get out of his room.” He answered you, before running a hand through his hair. It has gotten a lot longer over time and you liked it a lot.

“I can set up the couch for you, if you want.” You offered, even though you wouldn’t want your worst enemy to sleep on that thing. Nick apparently knew that too. “I’d rather sleep on the floor… or on a board with nails.”

You laughed lightly at his statement before throwing away the yoghurt cup and then leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

“You could sleep in my bed, and I’ll take the couch.” You then suggested, but Nick frantically shook his head.

“Nope, I can’t rob you of your beauty sleep.” Nick quickly answered and you jokingly opened your mouth in offense. “Did you just call me ugly?”

Nick rolled his eyes, while smiling. “No, I indirectly called you a princess, y/n.”

You knew he was joking, but you still felt your cheeks heat up, so you looked away for a second, in the hopes he didn’t see it.

“I’m just gonna push your brother off his bed, don’t worry.” He then exclaimed and pushed himself off the counter. He walked past you, while you started to think. You didn’t know if it was the tiredness creeping up in your bones or your delusional head, but before you could stop yourself you started to talk again.

“You could stay in my room until you’re tired enough. We could watch a movie or something.” You mumbled so fast you didn’t even know if you understood what you said. But Nick heard you. He heard you loud and clear, considering he stopped in his tracks and looked at you again.

“You sure?” He asked. Of course, you weren’t sure, but you still nodded.

A quiet voice in the back of your voice started to whisper. It whispered the words your grandmother had always told you.

“Nothing good happens after 2 AM.”

The sentence repeated itself in your head as you walked past Nick and then opened your bedroom door for him to get in.

It felt like he looked right into your soul as his gaze wandered around the room. It wasn’t too big, but bigger than Noah’s bedroom. In exchange, he got the third room in the apartment for his music stuff. On the walls hung a couple of pictures with your best friend and even one with Nick and Noah from a wedding you went to when you were 16 or 17.

Nick’s eyes fixated on your messy desk. You hadn’t had the time to clean up.

“You wrote your paper on managing bands?” He asked and smiled a bit to himself as his gaze wandered over your notes. You stepped next to him and nodded.

“Yeah. Since I’m studying management and wanna specialize on music business, it came to me naturally.” You explained and ran a hand through your hair. It went without saying what you meant with that statement. You wanted to support your brother’s dreams and since you never had too much interest in learning an instrument yourself, you wanted to at least do something in that field.

“So, we are basically only missing another guitarist and a drummer?” Nick asked and had this tone of excitement in his voice that made you smile a little broader.

“You found a bassist?” You asked surprised and Nick nodded. “Vincent, a fellow tattoo artist. We’re good friends and he agreed to join the project.

“Oh my god! Noah didn’t even tell me. That’s so cool.” You exclaimed and before you knew you hugged Nick from the side. It took him by surprise for a second, considering you normally didn’t even hug, but soon he relaxed and ran his hand over your arm.

When you realized what you did, you quickly got out of that embrace. You hated yourself for the bubbly feeling that formed in your stomach from such a small interaction and decided to get some distance.

“So…” You cleared your throat and sat on your bed. “What do you wanna watch?”

“What are the options?” He asked and also sat down with a bit of a distance to you.

“I do not have Netflix, but I recently bought Scream 4.” You answered him and didn’t even think about the fact that you weren’t the biggest fan of watching horror movies at night. Normally you were too scared for that, but there was this little delusional part of your brain that told you it would be the best idea.

“I’m cool with that.” Nick answered you and you saw how he smiled lopsidedly for a second.

Half an hour later you both were laying on your bed, your blanket over the both of you, even though you definitely had more of it, since you always needed to get comfortable when you watched scary movies. It wasn’t like Scream was too scary, but you still didn’t want to get scared in front of Nick.

“You know, I think Scream got worse and worse over time.” Nick than said, but he blinked a couple of times when he saw how offended you looked.

“Take that back, Ruffilo.” You grumbled and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“What? No. You can’t tell me Scream 4 is better than the first one.” He explained himself and turned to you to look at you better.

“I didn’t say that.” You answered him, but still looked offended.

“Tell me one thing that you actually enjoy about this movie.” He then demanded and if it was fate, a scene with Charlie Walker was shown.

Nick watched you intently as your cheeks slowly but surely got redder and redder. It took him a second what your reaction meant.

“Aaaah… It’s not the movie you like. Y/n has a crush on Charlie Walker.” He teased you and started to grin.

“No, I do not.” – “Yes, you do.” – “Nick, I swear-…”

“What do you like about him?” Nick asked and his tone wasn’t as teasing as before. He genuinely looked like he wanted to know.

“I don’t know.” You sighed and also turned to Nick. “I like that he isn’t popular and has a nerdy hobby. That he is shy and not an extrovert. I feel like extroverts scare me sometimes.”

Nick laughed a little and agreed with you.

“I also really like long dark hair. Especially when they have light eyes as well. I don’t know it’s just fitting.” You explained yourself further and didn’t even realize, who also had these features. You saw how Nick began to smile softly.

“You like dark long hair and light eyes?” He repeated your statement. “And introverts with a nerdy hobby?”

That was when you realized what you just told him. You swallowed hard and noticed how your stomach began to feel warm again. You looked away from his eyes quickly, not really knowing what to answer, so you simple stuttered a quiet. “Y-…yeah. I guess so.”

You were almost sure Nick wouldn’t say anything else since almost an eternity passes before, he opened his mouth again. “You know, I noticed over the years that I really like girls with (y/h/c) hair and (y/e/c) eyes. Especially in that combo.”

You had to forcefully stop your mouth from opening. You thought you must have heard it wrong. There was simply no way that Nick was really implying what you thought he was implying.

For a second, you contemplated what to do, but when nothing came to your mind, you simply looked at him again with questioning eyes. Nick started to smile a little and even though it was dark in your room, you saw the faint pink blush on his cheeks.

The words of your grandma started to form in your head again. “Nothing good happens after 2AM” You knew what you were thinking was dumb. You should have just turned to your TV again, but when you saw how his eyes travelled to your lips for a second, you decided to ignore every moral you had in your body. This would probably be your only chance, and you were dumb if you didn’t take it.

You leaned slightly forward and before you knew, you felt his lips on yours. Even though, you had never kissed before, it felt so familiar, you couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss. His breath became more strained and soon you felt a hand sneak on your waist. You let yourself get pulled closer to him.

The kiss ended sooner as you wished it had. You didn’t dare to open your eyes as you felt his breath on your face.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He whispered, his words almost coming out as a whine.

“We definitely shouldn’t.” You breathed out before leaning into him again. Your hands started to roam and before you could even process what was happening, he pulled you onto his lap.

His hands ran over your waist, and you felt how he lifted his hips for just a moment. Every little thought in your brain that told you that maybe this wasn’t the best idea just vanished. You needed him.

Nick broke the kiss for a second and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you.”

“Oh, it’s giving serial killer.” You joked and he laughed for a second, before he placed a hand on your cheek. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t like that.”

To your surprise there was a thing that was totally different, when he kissed you again. You didn’t feel like there was an exploding firework or those sparks you thought would happen. You just felt safe. It felt like you were meant to kiss. Like everything belong the way it was.

With a swift motion, Nick turned you, so you were laying under him.

“You know, we don’t have to do anything, y/n.” He reassured you. His dark hair was dangling in your face and his greyish blue eyes seemed darker than normal.

“I want this, Nick. I want you.” You reassured him too.

“Oh, look who’s giving serial killer now.” He joked and you reached out to playfully slap his chest, but he caught your hand. He placed a kiss on it, before letting go of it again and placing small kisses on your neck. You instantly tilted your head to give him better access and your hands wandered in his hair.

“You smell so nice.” He whispered and placed a kiss under your ear which made you breath out quietly.

The desire in you was burning as your hands travelled down his chest and to the band of his sweatpants. You could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply.

Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin. With a swift motion of you two, you both lost your shirts. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in your stomach, as Nick nipped at the skin of your chest.

It went without saying as you lifted yourself up a little and in a swift motion, he opened your bra that soon found its place on the floor with your shirts.

As Nick’s hand shifted, cupping your breast, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his pants. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, followed by the stuttering breath Nick released, even as his own hands began to trail lower. He played with the hem of your shorts for a second, before dipping beneath them as well, as he supported his weight with his other hand.

Before you could say anything, Nick’s hand shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathering the evidence of your arousal easily.

You can feel the throbbing from his dick as you slowly began to stroke his length, while he began to draw small circles on your clit. You tried your hardest to contain your moans, but when you looked him in the eyes for second, you couldn’t help but whimper.

Nick smirked slightly as he began to lower his hand, one finger teasing your entrance. You exhaled shakingly, when he slowly pushes a finger inside.

“Oh god.” You whined quietly and slightly increased your movement. The noise that escaped his lips alone made you fall apart.

He moved his gaze to look in your eyes for a second. “Are you alright?”

You nodded quickly, too caught up in the moment to respond in words, before pulling him down for a bruising kiss. Slowly he begins to move his finger inside of you. He continues, letting you get used to it, before slowly entering a second one.

“Fuck, Nick-…“ You gasped as he curled both fingers, slowly increasing the movements. With his two fingers fully inside you, his palm pressing against your clit.

You stopped moving your hand in his pants as you felt a sensation built up in you that never form as quickly as it did at this moment. But you stop him.

“What?” He asked. “Everything alright?”

“Yes, but I want to come with you.” You answered him and saw how his pupils widened even more.

“Are you sure? You know we don’t have to do more and-…” – “Nick, I want you to fuck me.”

His eyes widened at your statement, but he wasted no time, getting rid of his pants and underwear as you also slipped out of yours.

“Do you have condoms here?” He asked, his voice raspy.

“In the top drawer.” You answered shortly, before attacking Nick’s neck with kisses as he reached for drawer.

Shortly after, Nick grabbed both of your legs and opened them up for him. You sighed in anticipation and gripped your bedsheet as he slowly lowered himself into you.

Your mouth was open in the shape of a silent scream as Nick simultaneously let out a quiet groan into your ear. He stayed still for a second as he bottomed out, catching his breath. His next words made you spiral. “God, I thought this would never happen.”

He gave you no chance to reply as he pulled all the way out, just the tip still inside of you, before thrusting inside of you with a little more force. His rhythm was slow but deep, bumping into your cervix with each thrust of his hips.

You held onto his shoulder, careful not to let out a loud noise. He lowered himself onto your chest, paying attention to not crushing you. You couldn’t even have moaned, only small whimpers leaving your lips as you still tried to process what was happening.

As your hands travelled to his hair, to get a better grip, one of his found its way back to your clit. You already were so close to falling apart.

“Please, y/n. I beg you. Please cum for me.” He breathed out and leaned his forehead against yours. Your body was trembling as you reached your orgasm.

You let out a silent scream as you reached your peak. He was quick to move his fingers away from your clit as you gripped his hair. You felt how he tried to contain his own noise as his cock began to twitch inside of you.

“Fuck.” He whispered in a stuttering tone and moved for a couple of seconds longer, before slowly pulling out of you and letting himself fall onto you as the end credits of Scream 4 were the only noise in the room, besides your erratic breaths.

You both laid in each other’s arms for an extended period of time, while you ran your hands through his hair as he hugged you tightly. It felt like you both couldn’t believe what just had happened. He placed sloppy kisses along your collarbone, causing you to laugh slightly, still in disbelief.

When he lifted his head to look at you, he had a small smile on his face. “Everything alright?”

“If never been better, I think.” You mumbled and for a second you just looked each other in your eyes with unspoken feelings dangling between you. That was when he leaned in again and place a small and sweet kiss on your lips.

This was when you realized that maybe your grandma had been wrong.

Maybe the best things happen after 2 AM.

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86

@justeli6 @sitkowski @exitwoundsx

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[kinopio-writes]

Hello! I really like the way you write ;) can I see the OCD reader's girlfriend? (she is very paranoid, constantly checking everything, checking the house for hidden cameras, checking things and sometimes throwing tantrums because she thinks she is being watched) characters: Lucifer, Adam

A/N: Thank you. I did a bit of research about OCD, so hopefully I’m not appearing ignorant or anything. I know everyone’s experiences are different, but do tell me if I’m inaccurate.

Also, I know you only specified paranoia, but I added a couple of other things, too. I hope that’s okay. This can all be read platonically.

Warnings: Adam being Adam (he’ll be quite insensitive here and possibly triggering)

———

Lucifer, and Adam w/ a Reader who has OCD

Lucifer Morningstar

• I don’t think Lucifer would even know that the word mental health exists

• wait, no, scratch that—he explicitly said he has depression

• actually, y’know what, maybe he heard the term depression through Lilith or something

• because there is just no way he knows what mental health is

• he’s been a hermit ever since the beginning of humanity (after he got banished)—how would he know?

• but, uh, anyway, back to the headcanons—

• he doesn’t know you specifically have OCD

• he just thinks what you’re doing is pretty normal since he’s also neurodivergent himself, so he relates to some of the things you think or do

• he’s very supportive

• he healthily alleviates your worries

• he never pushes them away or make it seem like you’re overreacting

• but, uh, constantly reassuring you would very much drain him

• Lucifer is also a man who requires many reassurance

• one of many habits you picked up is constantly checking up on the guy since you know he also has issues himself

• it gets worse if Lucifer’s depression takes a massive decline

• you’re constantly knocking at his office door, calling out his name to make sure he didn’t…

• uh, Lucifer usually doesn’t have the energy to respond during those times, so your worry doubles further

• this is unfortunately not an uncommon occurrence

• moving on, you two often try to get the other to come back to bed (you both struggle with sleeping)

• be it because of your compulsive behaviors or him hyper-fixating on finishing his rubber duck projects that you both lose track of time

• so what happens if it happens to the both of you at the same time?

• uh, it’s just not good

• you two will regret it the next morning

• you two are basically barely functioning together, but are trying to be better for each other

• and for Charlie, too

———

Adam

• I don’t think Adam would notice anything at first

• but if you two see each other quite often (maybe living together), he would pick up on some of your quirks

• he would hate how particular you are about many things

• like, what do you mean it needs to be like this? What do you mean this needs to be exactly like that? And what do you mean that has to be like this? Why can’t it just be the way it already is?

• your anxiousness also irks him

• like, why are you like this? You live in Heaven, for fuck’s sake! Why are you so worried?

• he, uh, “reassures” your paranoia not very healthily

• “Oh, that? Pshh, you’re fineee.” “Don’t worry ’bout it.” “Stop being so paranoid.” “Jeez, you’re overreacting.”

• it’s even worse if you’re bothered with things such as messes since Adam definitely does not have cleanliness as a trait

• his home is usually cluttered unless he uses his powers or gets someone to do it for him

• if you have trouble with time management, don’t worry about accidentally waking Adam up late at night ’cause he has a shitty sleep schedule

• you also don’t have to worry about that since he’s probably a heavy sleeper

• actually, he probably either sleeps in until the afternoon or takes afternoon naps after a sleepless night

• those times when he’s awake at ungodly hours are when he notices your habits

• if you don’t want any of the behavior I’ve mentioned, please educate him because he will most definitely not do it himself

• don’t be afraid to speak your mind because he obviously can’t read it

• but he won’t exactly make things easier for you

• unless it’s convenient for him

• he’ll just tone himself down a bit (his words, I mean)

• but he’ll slip up from time to time because he’s just very used to not being mindful of the things he says

• overall, just know that he’ll get annoyed and frustrated with you at times

• ...uh, yeah

• maybe you just shouldn’t be around a guy like him

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

i know i sent an ask the other day but i wanna throw another on the table: ed with a goofball avatar s/o? someone who tries to enjoy the time they have in the here and now, ESPECIALLY after what happened in the suval'hal tournament? (this may or may not be related to my avatar but i feel like this could easily apply to a lot of avatars as a whole)

silly avatar getting cranked to the max :) and im slowly loving ed as much as i lobe bosch. oh no. also it's actually really hard to write a goofball avatar for some reason, so hopefully i did my fellow clowns some justice.

Ed could always hear you before he actually sees you.

He's just not used to people with an overly loud personality like yours.

Not to say it was a bad thing, but he's definitely dropped his phone a couple of times because you decided to shout his name across the station for everyone to hear.

Hey, pipe it down. Are you trying to attract attention to him?

You would also attempt to get him to do the most random activities he's ever heard.

Oh, you know a place with a nice view overlooking the city? Cool.

Wait, the place is crawling with security roombas and fighting refrigerators?

What the hell does that even mean?

When Ed's with you, he allows himself to get dragged to wherever you felt like going that day.

A Burger joint? The Scrapyard? Haggar Stadium? It didn't matter where you two were, you always knew a place.

And other times you would say something so outlandish, that he would have to tune you out.

You once stopped mid-training because you had to flip your Crocs into 'sports mode'. Whatever the hell that meant.

So he knocked your ass on the floor for not taking him seriously.

Or when you called early in the morning to ask him meaningless questions at ungodly hours.

Who the hell was calling him this time? Ed thought.

He begrudgingly picked up his phone without checking the caller ID.

"What?"

"Would you love me if I was a worm?"

And Ed hung up on you.

He'll deal with you later.

When you're both out and about, you try to get him to do things he normally wouldn't consider, albeit with some pushback from him.

Like when you wanted to dance with him in Beat Square because a jazz band was playing.

Ed watched them with mild interest before you grabbed him.

"Come on. Let's Dance!" You said, pulling him towards the open space where other people were mingling.

"I don't dance." He narrowed his eyes at you.

And you rolled yours playfully, not letting go of his hands. "Aw, don't be like that, It'll be fun."

Ed tried to relax and mirror your movements.

He was stiff and awkward for the most part, but he was there with you on the dance floor. And that was a win in your books.

He would've never done this if you were some rando asking for his hand, so count yourself lucky.

As the music came to an end, you pulled Ed close, wrapping your arms around him. "See? I told you it would be fun." You said, forehead resting against his.

"Yeah. You were right, I guess." he hummed. "It wasn't that bad."

"I'm always right." You grinned, leaning in to give him a quick peck.

He scoffed, "Let's not go that far."

Because of your outgoing/goofy nature, his friends found you endearing and a joy to be around.

He's actually somewhat relieved they did because that meant the members of his group who were still hesitant around other people were gradually opening up.

But of course, you did have some run-ins with them from time to time that were...less than ideal.

"Aw, Look Ed. I think Kiki likes me," you cooed, gently stroking the lion tamarin who was leaning into your touch. Her tiny face and fluffy body had you completely smitten.

"Uh-huh." He said, glancing down at the little thing. He knew you were too focused on how cute Kiki was to notice that she was slowly inching closer to your food.

It wasn't until she nabbed the bread off your burger that you realized what she was up to.

"That rat. She stole my buns!" You shouted, jumping out of your chair to chase her.

Ed leaned against one of the walls, watching the whole thing unfold, as the nimble thief jumped from one piece of furniture to the next, with you following suit.

'This might take a while,' he thought, popping one of the pickles he took from your burger into his mouth.

After a few minutes, you returned, huffing and puffing with the half-eaten bun in your hands. Tiny scratches ran up your arm from the brief struggle.

"Have fun?" he said with a hint of amusement.

"Not at all, my food's probably cold by now," you groan, dropping the bun back on the table. "Who knew something so small could be so mischievous."

"Don't take it personally. But consider yourself lucky you even got a portion of it back." He said as the tamarin in question hopped on his shoulder, cheeks still puffy from munching down on the stolen bread. "She's got one hell of a jaw for being this size."

You huffed sadly, flopping the bun back on your sandwich as you slumped down on your chair. "Well, at least I could finally eat."

"Wait," You picked the bun back up. "Where the hell are my pickles!?"

Although he doesn't admit it often, he's glad you see the positives in unfortunate situations.

Because there are times when he just has shitty days and nothing could make him feel better.

So he could probably learn a thing or two from you.

But if there are moments when you're not feeling the best, he'll know.

Even if you try to hide it.

Hey, are you really not gonna say anything and make him do all the talking?

He's used to you being the one to fill in the void with your voice.

So it feels a bit empty to not hear it after a while.

In those instances, Ed would find ways to make you feel better.

Albeit your humor may be different from his.

Hey, didn't you think it was funny when that guy spit his tooth out after you punched him?

Or how about when that thug fell to his knees saying how sorry he was for getting the jump on you?

No, you actually didn't find either of those moments funny.

But, seeing him go to this length did genuinely make you smile, so you appreciated every second of it.

However, if you were having a rough day, there's no shame in admitting it, especially to Ed.

He gets it, so you don't need to put on a facade in front of him.

You can enjoy the rest of the day in silence with him if that's what you want.

Speaking about you, you also enjoyed giving him gifts that range from 'useful' to 'What the hell did you just give me?'.

"Isn't it cute?"

"It's something." Ed examined the green plushie that had a dopey smile.

But you could sense his indifference to it.

"I mean, if you don't like it, I can always take it back." You replied, reaching over to grab it.

But before you could, Ed pulled it closer to him. "Hey, back off. It's mine." he said in an oddly possessive tone, which made you laugh.

"Alright, tough guy. It's all yours. I'm just glad you like it."

To an extent, you do ease his nerves and make him forget about the horrors he's seen.

Yeah, he gets on your case for having such a carefree attitude all the time. But that's because you're the ideal embodiment of what his life could've been like if he wasn't connected to any of this Shadaloo biz.

Ed also never got why you always insisted on doing things in the moment rather than putting it off for later.

You don't need to drop everything you're doing just because you had a moment of clarity.

If you have time later, just do it later.

But he can understand to an extent where you were coming from.

Because as much as he hates to admit it, sometimes there’s no such thing as later in this line of work.

[citrusy-lemons]

pancake-cakes

tasm!peter x reader

summary: late night cravings bring out some deeper feelings.

author's note: HOLY SHIT, count on me to go MIA for a month after posting. honestly tho i'm so sorry, i've got school and extracurriculars and projects and shit and i haven't really gotten time to write and my schedule is still super hectic, hopefully i'll be able to get other stuff out soon but no promises :/

let me know what you think? constructive criticism is welcome and please be nice :)

see, the middle of the night wasn't meant for this. it's to sleep and dream and pee.

not for baking a cake without having most ingredients of the cake. but you'd gotten a sudden craving and it was a weekend tomorrow, so bad decisions were inevitable.

did you have a million assignments to do? maybe. but peter also had a million assignments to do and he was still here, so technically, he's also making bad decisions. he was aware of that fact.

mind you he did try to convince you to go back to sleep at first but you wore him down. he didn't put up a big fight, he never did, against you.

he's convinced himself that he was only there to watch over you and make sure you didn't slice a finger or spill the flour, not to help you out with your late night shenanigans. but he was cutting up the strawberries so, really, he didn't have a strong resolve.

"you know, i think that when the box says 'pancake mix' you're supposed to make pancakes," he said, turning to you, who was reading the back of said box.

were you trying to bake a cake in the middle of the night with pancake batter cuz you didn't have the stuff for the cake and didn't want to go to the grocery store to get it? kinda. would peter have gone and got the stuff himself if you'd asked? yes.

"i didn't listen to you the last 17 times, i'm not gonna listen to you now, and besides," you said, pouring the mix into a bowl, "a pancake is just a cake but made on a pan instead of an oven. we're just changing the recipe a bit," you shrugged, like it was obvious and he was the stupid one.

"there are so many things wrong with that sentence, i dont even know where to begin,"

"here's a hint, don't."

you were being mean, you knew that. you didn't mean it. peter knew that. and you knew that peter knew that but you would apologize later. he knew that. he sighed dramatically.

"you wound me,"

you rolled your eyes at that. pretending to be annoyed at him was easy. wiping the smile away from your face when you were around him wasn't.

"if i had a dollar for every time you're wounded, i'd be filthy rich."

he glanced up at you. he knew that that wasn't completely a joke, it had a bittersweet tone to it. was that the reason why you were up at this ungodly hour? peter knew that you'd been stressed lately, he didn't know he had a hand in that.

"hey, you wanna tell me what's up?"

you didn't meet his eye, but you did stop fiddling with the bowl. almost immediately, you grabbed the knife out of his hand, mumbling, "you're cutting them all wrong,"

you both knew that wasn't true. one of the perks of having grown up with may was that peter was a fantastic cook. he'd been doing this sort of stuff forever. you needed to get better at excuses.

he gently laid his hand over yours to stop you and said your name softly, pleadingly. a long pause. you complied.

"it's just that," you started with a sigh, and dropped the knife, "you're my best friend peter, and i know that being spiderman means a lot to you," hesitation creeps up as you get to the actual issue. peter senses a 'but' coming. you look at him.

"but you come home every night with bruises everywhere, in pain, and i know you say that they'll go away in the morning and they do but," you're rambling now, he doesn't stop you.

"you have to see it from my perspective, i-" another sigh, you look away, "i get scared, peter."

oh. you were worried for him. he wonders how he didn't realise that before. that time he came home with a stab wound and you looked like you were going to cry he thought you were nauseous at the sight of blood. peter was an idiot.

"i know i shouldn't but i dont like the thought of you getting beat up every night." you were talking with your hands now, "imagine how you would feel if i came home with bruises all over my body and told you not to worry and that i'll be fine in a couple hours." you looked at him again. there was a sort of pain in your eyes. peter wishes it weren't there.

"it doesn't feel good peter. and you assume that i'm supposed to be okay with it?" you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, turning back to the strawberries. your hands were shaking.

peter thought about it. about what you'd said. you were scared for him and he understood that. it couldn't have been easy to be with someone like him. but he couldn't very well abandon spiderman. it was a part of him now. he knew that you knew that, but at the same time, he understood your point.

he thought about how he'd feel if the roles were reversed. if you came home with the type of wounds he did every night, he would be terrified. he couldn't blame you, of course he couldn't.

but he was spiderman, he had a responsibility, an unspoken vow to this city. he had opportunities and powers that no one else did, and he wanted to do good with it.

he hadn't asked for it, but he still had it. if he gave up being spiderman, he didn't think his conscience would let him live with it.

"i'm not asking you not to be spiderman," you spoke, finding your voice, "of course i won't do that. i'm just saying..." you trailed off, unsure of what you wanted and whether you were allowed to have it.

peter took both your hands into his, silently begging you to look at him. you did.

"i know what you're saying, and i understand. i don't blame you, i get where you're coming from and i promise, i'll be fine," he said, softly. he knew you were anxious about his safety.

"i can't give up being spiderman, and i know that's not what you're saying, but you have to understand, i can't not do it, it's a part of me, and i swear i will be more careful," his brown eyes bore into yours, willing you to understand. you blinked and unconsciously looked to the floor.

"but what if, being careful isn't enough one day? what if it isn't just some robbers or burglars but some other things? what if it's one of those aliens or mutants or something and you can't defend yourself? what am i supposed to do then, pete?"

you closed your eyes again, trying to stop the tears. peter's heart was tearing itself knowing that he was the reason for them. how could he tell you that him being the cause for your tears hurt more than any knife in the world?

"hey, look at me," he said, searching for your eyes. you shook your head but looked up at him anyway, the tears in your lashes resolutely not giving in to gravity.

"nothing is going to happen to me. i've handled stuff like that, you know. i know you're worried and upset but i promise, nothing will happen. you need to trust me, okay? we're going to be fine. please, I need you to trust me."

he said your name like it's the last time he'll ever get to, not in a way a friend is supposed to.

you sniffed, "i trust you, i do. it's this city that i don't trust," you steeled yourself, "but if you're sure, and you believe we'll be fine, then i do too."

he cracked a smile then, and pulled you in for a hug. a tight one. neither of you let go for quite a few minutes. you relished in it.

"god, okay i know i'm being silly, i'm sorry," you said after you'd pulled away, rubbing at your eyes.

"you're not being silly, don't be sorry. it's completely okay and valid. don't ridicule your thoughts, you're allowed to feel," peter said, in a scold-ish manner that he'd no doubt learnt from may.

"and please step away from the strawberries, and go back to butchering your so-called 'cake'," he said with a teasing smile, bumping his hips into yours to move you back to the bowl of pancake mix.

you scoffed incredulously, back into your playful demeanor, "excuse you, i would have perfected this pancake-cake if i weren't feeling sleepy right now, so, unfortunately for you, you won't get to taste this deliciousness, whenever i do get to make it,"

"oh, what a tragedy, i won't get to torture my tastebuds with whatever concoction you manage to brew up,"

you shoved at him, not that he moved an inch, and grabbed the plate of cut strawberries.

"just for that, i'm gonna eat these strawberries in bed using your pillow as a table, and you know i can be a very messy eater," you laughed like an evil sorcerer and ran towards the bedroom.

peter, horrified at the thought of sleeping on a sticky pillow, ran after you, forgetting that he had sticky hands himself. (pun intended, i'm sorry i couldn't not do it)

"come back here you!"

the pancake mix in the bowl, the half pack of strawberries waiting to be cut, and the anxiety were all left forgotten back in the kitchen.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

🗒️ Vandal 🗒️

Word Count: 16,000+ (And nobody asked for any of it!)

Summary: A quiet high school student looks a little too closely at the tragic events afflicting their hometown. Can you uncover the truth while keeping your own secrets hidden? Or will a lapse in judgment expose you to a world of hurt? || Kol x disabled!reader || Here lies my Masterlist

Warnings: Some language, references to blood and gore, Kol being a psycho, and some dubious consent but nothing violent or graphic. This turned out a little more Yandere than I intended. Just expect ya gal's general tomfoolery.

A/N: Howdy-doo, this is your captain speaking. I know I promised a lot of you that I would have the sequel to Run for Your Life finished last week, but it's still not done and I'm really sorry. I wrote this instead. Please forgive me. I hate letting y'all down but inspiration has been really low as of late and, as some of you know, I've been facing some very serious struggles with people in my life. My sense of self-worth has been suffering, but writing this fic has been my best escape. So again, I'm really sorry to those who were expecting the Klaus fic, but I hope you like this one nonetheless.

🗒️ Story Begins Below 🗒️

When Niklaus Mikaelson confined himself to his studio, it was common knowledge among all parties of blood relation to the original hybrid that any sibling who valued their breathing privileges should promptly vacate the premises until such a time as that tortured artist ceased muttering his internal monologue aloud. 

Kol, for one, was quite fond of his breathing privileges, thank you very much. 

Ugh, breathing. 

The one thing he’d never thought would require adjusting to through the centuries was now yet another factor among a dozen others that required getting used to. 

The air of this new age he’d found himself in was thick and hazy with chemicals and other nonsense he didn’t care to think about. Drawing the filthy mixture into his lungs required significantly more effort from him than it used to. He wondered vaguely how the humans surrounding his seat at the bar of this stodgy town’s only decent restaurant did it with such ease. It must’ve been tiring. Perhaps that was why so many of the patrons around him seemed content to spend their morning religiously devoted to quaffing down as much of that - oh, what had Mary-Alice called it? - caffeine stuff as they could possibly contain. 

Though the name would suggest otherwise, Kol figured the only way the Mystic Grill, as the place was called, could remain in business was to serve breakfast, lunch, dinner, and drinks. Hence why the place was packed with half-conscious teenagers at the ungodly hour of six in the morning, stopping off for something to eat on their way to school. How did Rebekah enjoy this? Though she’d accompanied him to the grill, Kol’s sister had been quick to grab her coffee and ditch him. She wanted to arrive to school early so she could “talk”. (The notion tempted Kol to impale himself on a billiard cue.) 

Rebekah was also rather upset with him, or more specifically, his newfound enrollment in her high school. There was nothing he could do about that, however. If it was up to him, Kol would choose to spend his time literally any place else. Unfortunately for him, after that little incident with Rebekah’s date, mother dearest had been contemplating ways to keep him in line. High school was evidently what she’d come up with. It was Finn’s idea actually. Kol’s eldest brother - dull lout that he was - had suggested that perhaps attending high school with his sister would provide a convenient way for Kol to catch up on recent history, as well as assist him in developing some control over his appetite seeing as each family member had given their word not to shed the blood of any locals. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Esther had done more than just readily agree. She’d also cast a tracking spell on him. If he strayed beyond the town’s limits, she would know. 

Rest assured, he would find a way to weasel out of it - that was certain. But for now, Kol was stumped. This resurrected version of his mother wasn’t quite so dismissive of him as she’d been in Kol’s human life. He should have liked that - should have reveled in it. Yet, having her attention this time around came with a cold harshness he wasn’t so fond of. For now though, he would have to endure his punishment. Thanks to Klaus, he couldn’t even skip out.

Thus Kol found himself in an overly crowded restaurant, at six in the morning on his first day of school, surrounded by teenagers.

Kol desperately wished he could eat one or two of them. 

They were so rowdy and obnoxious. The whole world it seemed had grown significantly louder since he’d been daggered in nineteen fourteen. So much information assaulting his senses constantly. It was maddening. Being surrounded by thirty or so warm bodies didn’t exactly help. The chorus of their heartbeats fell on his sensitive ears like the cresting of ocean waves and like a riptide, he would surely be carried away if he allowed himself to listen much longer. 

The boy’s throat burned. He was hungry. Always hungry. He could practically taste the relief on his tongue. The high he could get from just one little cheerleader…

Kol got up from his seat, grabbed his bag, and shoved his way out the door, cursing Finn’s name to Hel and back. He reached the end of the street and stopped. Raking his fingers through his hair, Kol rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath.

Wrong move.

A gentle autumn breeze swept past and carried with it a hint of something sweet. No, that was too tame. That scent on the air was like pure sugar and spring water, something like berries and roses and cotton candy all rolled into one supremely tempting aroma so overpowering he nearly choked. White hot pain shot through him and his mouth watered. He was standing in the midst of town square before he even realized he’d moved. 

There, kneeling hunched over on the ground, all alone in the early morning, was a young woman who looked about the same age as he did. Any view of her face was obscured by the curtain of her hair as it fell around her in something of an untamed mess. Her clothes, nothing fancier than a t-shirt and shorts, were rumpled and irreparably stained with just about every color one could imagine as she focused intently on whatever she was doing. Scattered all around her were about a dozen cans of paint and at least a hundred individual sticks of chalk in a variety of shades. She was decorating the walkways, Kol realized as he watched her dip her hand directly into one of the cans of paint before slathering the color over the flagstones she was working on. Once satisfied that the area was evenly covered, she sat up.

The girl paused to wipe her hand on a wet rag before shuffling back around to a different section where the paint looked a little drier. 

Kol had just enough time to register the pattern of scrapes that decorated her hands and knees before that delicious scent washed over him again. It was stronger now that he was so close and like a punch to the gut, just a whiff of it knocked the wind out of him. His throat seared and his fangs ached. She was right there in front of him, trickles of blood seeping from her hands and knees - rivers of temptation. Whatever ichor was rushing through that girl’s veins would certainly be divine. Kol wanted it. He wanted to taste her warm human skin - wanted to lick the scarlet from those teasing little scrapes she’d made. No one was around. He could have that sweet, sweet crimson ambrosia all to himself. 

There was just one problem. This girl was a local. Her residence was clear from the tags dangling from her backpack which she’d tossed a few feet away. Kol couldn’t eat any of the locals, he’d given his word on it. 

Unfortunately for him, that boy’s sense of honor apparently wasn’t enough to keep his legs from moving. He was standing over her shoulder in a matter of seconds. His looming shadow must have caught her attention because the girl paused her work (she was rubbing lines of chalk into the paint now) and twisted around to look up at him, squinting against the rising sun at his back. Her cheeks were twinged with a delicious shade of pink, likely due to the warm, humid morning, and she smiled in a friendly, albeit slightly confused way.

“Hey!” She greeted - voice practically a chirp. The girl lifted a hand to her face in an effort to further block out the sun, but the offensive light couldn’t dampen her smile. Kol fought the urge to roll his eyes at her sunny disposition.

“Good morning, darling.” He flashed her a grin - the crooked one that made girls like her faint. Kol gestured to the swirling mix of hues currently stinging his eyes. “What’s this going to be?” 

The girl blinked and tilted her head. “Could you say that a little louder?” She asked. Her voice was soft but rich with a delicate, wispy quality to it like a warm caramel stretched apart. He supposed it wasn’t entirely unpleasant to listen to.

“Are you painting something specific or is it more abstract?” He wondered, raising his voice a little. Abstract was certainly the most polite term for eyesore, he thought. 

“Oh, uh, yeah! It’s Mystic Falls,” She said brightly. Then she paused. Her face scrunched up a bit and even Kol could admit it was a little endearing. “Um, I mean, not the town, but like, the falls as in the waterfalls… yeah.” Her voice tapered off into a whisper at the end and she cast her eyes away. 

Kol hummed. “I see.” He didn't actually care, however. He’d seen enough. This girl, tantalizing as her blood might be, wasn’t worth his time - nor his mother’s wrath should he break his oath. There was no thrill in chasing someone like that, girls like her gave in too easily. 

Without warning, the little artist stiffened and whipped her head back up to face him, drawing Kol from his thoughts. 

“Say, what’s the time?” She wondered, biting her lip anxiously. Her lips looked rather tasty when she did that.

Kol raised a brow and checked his watch. “Ten to seven,” He answered. 

She cocked her head again. “Sorry, what?”

“Ten to seven,” He repeated a little louder.

“Huh?”

“Bloody hell!” The boy huffed. “It’s six-fifty! Are you Deaf?”

She snorted. “Uh, huh. Yeah.” Kol’s eyes narrowed but the girl only turned her head, shoving a lock of hair back to reveal some technological array perched over her ear. The artist shrugged and faced him again. “It’s the accent, I think. Plus, it ain’t my fault you mumble. What time did you say it was again? I forgot.”

It wasn’t the disability that annoyed him, he wasn’t that shallow. It was her attitude he couldn’t stand. 

“Six. Fifty. One,” He ground out through clenched teeth.

Her eyes widened. “CRAP!” 

The annoying little artist sprang to her feet, scooped her bag from where she’d flung it, and dashed off just like that. He huffed at her lack of tact - not so much as a word of thanks. It was probably best for both of them if they never saw each other again. That mouth-watering ray of sunshine was unlikely to survive another encounter with him.

As he debated whether or not to just wander around aimlessly for the remainder of the day, Kol caught sight of an object that must have tumbled out of the artist’s bag. Only the slightest bit curious, he bent down to pick it up. Upon taking a closer look at it, Kol raised a brow. Well worn and faded, the sketchbook in his hands was nothing special - almost every artist had one, that was no surprise. What caught his attention, however, was the design on the cover, or more accurately, what had been made of it. Whereas the front of the sketchbook had once depicted a quaint scene from what he recognized to be the story Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, with little Alice looking up at the Cheshire Cat perched lazily in a tree, the girl had turned it into something far more sinister. 

For one thing, she’d given Alice a broadsword. Her dress had been redecorated with dirt stains and blood. As for the Cheshire Cat, the artist had transformed the feline into a marionette with blood-stained teeth and dreadful claws. The background had been scribbled out with a black marker. All save for a grinning silhouette, tugging at the strings of its Cheshire Cat puppet, and a line of bold, bloody letters spelling out the phrase: “We’re All Mad Here.”

It was a delightfully grotesque perversion of a story Kol had rather enjoyed reading when it was first published. Perhaps that girl wasn’t quite so boring after all. 

Kol smirked and slipped the sketchbook into his own school bag. Serves her right for being so disrespectful. Besides, the book was steeped in that exquisite aroma of hers, and if he couldn’t devour the poor thing then keeping a little memento was his next best option. If she wanted it back, she’d simply have to prove herself deserving of it. Until then, that little book of horrors was all his.

Who knows what he might do with it?

No matter what, this was bound to be… entertaining.

***

You’d never liked cheerleaders. They’d always seemed so shallowly chipper - the sort of nice that giggles behind a person’s back. Most people said you were just jealous, wishing you could have their beauty, body, or popularity. They were wrong, of course, cheerleading simply wasn’t your thing. As for appearances, at least you were confident enough in your looks that you didn’t require validation from fellow minors. You never corrected the masses though. You let them think whatever they want. (After all, you had other, more important things on your mind.)

All feelings about cheerleaders aside, they were excellent subjects for drawing poses. It was them or the football team and you couldn’t be paid enough to go anywhere near them. Besides, you had already obtained permission from the members of the cheer squad to sit in on their practices. They figured you must have been lonely and seeking their approval. You didn’t correct them either. The girls on the squad were nice enough, though you didn’t know any of them very well. Just some first names. 

Caroline, Bonnie, Amber, Laura, Rebekah. 

Now that Rebekah was an odd one. She sort of unnerved you. Like the rest, the British blonde was nice enough, but something about her wasn’t quite right. She’d just dropped off the map for a month and a half and then showed up today as if she’d never been gone. Then there was her relationship with the other cheerleaders. Half of them avoided her like the plague and the other half worshiped the ground she walked on. It wasn’t normal.

Life isn’t like the drama shows all over tv. Kids in the real world don’t act that way. 

You hadn’t grown up in Mystic Falls. Your parents moved your family into town one year ago. Though you were just a sophomore then, you knew enough to understand that something about this whole town and everything that had been happening within the last year just wasn’t right. Within your sophomore and junior years alone, no less than twenty-six kids were reported missing. At least six were later confirmed dead.

Was it really any wonder you kept to yourself? 

You were fine with being alone. It didn’t bother you. 

What bothered you was that you had somehow lost track of your sketchbook. That bundle of pages hardly ever left your person. You never went anywhere without it, and yet when you had sat on the bleachers and reached into your backpack to pull it out, lo and behold, it was nowhere to be found. Who knew what small-town hic had gotten their grubby little hands on it? 

Alright, that was mean. You just wanted your book back. The idea of someone else flipping through your sketches irked you to no end.

“Well hello again, darling!” A semi-familiar voice rang out from behind you on the bleachers and you twisted around to face him. Had that kid been up there all this time? The boy grinned down at you. “Fancy meeting you here.”

You offered him a tight smile. 

“Yeah,” You said quietly. “Fancy that.”

The boy was pretty, that was for sure. Dark hair, dark eyes, a strong brow, and a sharp jawline. Not to mention that smile, you’d sooner light yourself on fire than call it “dazzling” but you would like to draw it sometime. All in all, he was probably the closest thing to masculine perfection you would ever lay eyes upon. But you weren’t dumb enough to judge a person off of looks alone. 

Though you had nothing to go off of aside from your brief meeting that morning, you didn’t quite like that kid. On the surface, he seemed alright. A little impatient but still pretty normal. It was the way he looked at you… it reminded you of the feeling you got back in your old town whenever you noticed that your best friend's pet boa constrictor was watching you from inside its tank - how its eyes would follow you no matter what you did. It wasn’t an exactly pleasant sensation. Those onyx eyes of his - when you looked into them, you couldn’t see much of a person looking back. His eyes sparkled when he smiled but behind them… behind them there was nothing. A charming grin without a person inside.

The boy’s odd smile only broadened. 

“You know, I-I didn’t take you for the cheerleading type,” He said. You tucked a strand of hair back behind your ear, squinting against the sun in your eyes. Did he always have to position himself so you had to blind yourself to look at him?

“I’m… not.”

He chuckled. “Obviously.” Climbing to his feet, the boy hopped up onto the seat in front of him and walked gracefully down to your level - at least, as gracefully as one can while walking on bleachers. You should probably warn him about the-

“Careful, that next one wobbles,” You spoke up. Your voice never seemed to come out as loud as you intended, yet he didn’t seem to have a problem catching it. 

“Ah-” He tested the next row with his foot and stepped over it lightly. “Thank you very much.” He grinned again as he jumped down beside you.

The boy was much too close for your liking. 

“You’re welcome,” You mumbled, shuffling away slightly. He only leaned in closer.

“So, if you’re with the cheerleaders, but you’re not one of them, then what does that make you?” He wondered, oblivious or insensitive to your discomfort. You couldn’t tell which. “Unrequited lover or wannabe?”

He raised a brow, smirking in a way that appeared bemused but you could sense its condescending edge. You just shrugged. He could think whatever he wanted. 

He was baiting you, that you were sure of. The dark-haired senior wanted you to answer. He waited for you to answer. But his was a lure you weren't going to bite.  You just kept on drawing - filling in lines, and fine-tuning expressions. You were sure he would give up eventually, kids like him always did.

“Are those your chemistry notes?” He asked finally. 

You hummed and nodded. You’d never been too much of a talker. It had nothing to do with your hearing loss, or maybe it did. That was just who you were either way.

“And you’re sketching in them?”

You shrugged. “Lost my sketchbook.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” At least he had the decency to sound sympathetic. “Did you have it this morning?” You nodded. This boy was persistent, you would give him that. He kept talking. “I see… Well, I'm sorry to hear that, darling. I would have loved to see it,” He said. 

Your lips twitched up in a smile. You wouldn’t have shown him anyway, but that didn’t matter.

“Thanks,” You whispered.

"You never answered my question," He pointed out. He was trying to get to you - get closer to you - and while any other girl would do backflips for the attention of a boy like him, you weren't any other girl. If he wanted to know you, then you couldn't let that happen. If you did, he might figure out your secret. Then you could lose everything - your education, your clean record, and the only money-making opportunity you were likely to get in this tiny, provincial town.

"I know." You sighed and closed your substitute sketchbook, just a little fed up. Maybe it was time to let the sunny, shy-girl facade drop. Perhaps a quick glimpse of who you really were would deter him. "But you're here too. So which are you? Unrequited lover or wannabe?"

The boy threw his head back and laughed, loud and clear. His laugh sounded like a stone splashing into a calm pond. Sudden and unique - one of a kind. When his gaze returned to you, he seemed to look you over as if reevaluating his previous judgment of your character. After a moment, he gave a slight nod and shrugged. 

"That's a fair point you make there, darling. I'll have to disappoint you, however, as I am merely here to pick up my sister." He gestured to the girls practicing on the field and then shot you a smirk. The boy held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, darling. I'm Kol, Kol Mikaelson.”

Your eyes flicked to his outstretched hand, weary.

"I…" 

Glancing up, you met the endless black pits that were his eyes. Your stomach felt queasy. Better to be safe than sorry.

You pushed his hand away. "I… don't particularly care." 

Without another word, you packed up your things and skipped down the bleachers. Exiting left of the football field. 

Perhaps you'd left him stunned. You didn't bother looking back to check.

You started seeing Kol quite often after that, which wouldn't have been weird had he not been a year above you. If it wasn't coincidence that saw you sharing both lunch period and study hall with him, then you didn't want to think about what it was. He kept his distance, which you appreciated. Kol didn't approach you for a while, but whenever you were in the same room with him you couldn't seem to shake a feeling that you were being watched. Closely. 

The day that pattern changed was the day you walked down the hall and found yourself greeted by photocopies of your art taped to every locker. A chill ran down your spine as your eyes landed on that first row of metal doors. The papers fluttered in the wind generated by passing students but you would recognize your art anywhere. 

It was one of the pages from your sketchbook - one of the sketches no one was supposed to see. 

This one depicted the football team, gathered on the field for practice. The sky above was dark and they had their helmets off. Each player's complexion was ghostly pale and their glowing red eyes all stared soullessly at the viewer. Their expressions displayed no emotion, but together they stood in a threatening formation. You had taken inspiration from both classic zombie movies and The Matrix for that sketch. In the top left corner, you had etched the title. You called it "The Hive." 

The only problem was, you hadn't exactly obtained the team's permission to draw it. 

To make matters worse, someone had added an inscription to the image that read: "Members of The Hive possess no individual thought or personality. Furthermore, they acknowledge only other facets of their collective consciousness." The words were scrawled across a crumpled sticky note attached to the top right-hand corner of the page. You hadn't written those words, but it sure looked like your handwriting. Your name was even signed at the bottom.

Someone had stolen and altered your sketchbook, and now they were using it against you.

Panic and paranoia welled up inside you. Clutching your books to your chest, you quickened your pace, catching glimpses of more and more hallways decorated with your sketch. Whispers followed you as you rushed down the hall to your locker, hoping to escape and find solace in your first class of the day, but you had no such luck. Reaching your destination, you gasped at the sight before you, recoiling in shame and confusion. It was like a shot taken straight from a television drama. This thief - whoever they were - had covered your locker with copies of that picture. 

Who would do something like this? You had only been in town a year - you wouldn't have thought that long enough to garner this degree of animosity from anyone.

"What the actual hell, Y/N?" A student exclaimed from down the hall.

Your mouth hung, gaping in shock and you floundered for something - anything to say. There was nothing. No defense. 

"Yeah, Y/L/N! What did Matt and the team ever do to you?"

Your eyes widened. "What?" You shook your head, blinking rapidly as you tried to explain, but your voice refused to rise over the commotion, accusations, and judgment. "N-no, they didn't. I mean, I wasn't trying to-to…"

"You realize how sick this is, right?" Another kid demanded, closer to you this time. "Like, seriously. Judgy much?"

"No, it's not like that," You insisted. It felt like your whole world had been tossed upside down. "I-I just-" You stammered, hapless. For once, it was the people around you who couldn't seem to hear.

"What a creep," Muttered someone else as they passed close enough for your hearing aids to register. Was that what everyone thought of you?

"No! Y-you don't understand! I-I didn't mean it like that. I-" Your heart sank. Shame overwhelmed you and you buried your face in your hands, sliding down the wall to the floor.

Your heart felt like a voodoo doll, impaled with all sorts of pins. You'd never felt impressed to explain yourself to anyone. You had never cared what anyone else thought of you. But when you had imagined all the ways your life might fall apart, this wasn't one of the ways you had envisioned. That drawing and the dozens of others like it - they were yours. 

You wished you'd never made them in the first place.

Shaking your head, you switched off your hearing aids and hugged your arms around yourself, perfectly content to stew in your own misery. A dull roar met your ears as students passed by. None stopped to address you. A few of them tossed crumpled-up photocopies of your sketch at your head but you ignored them.

Then a hand settled itself on your knee. 

Startled, you peeked between your fingers, expecting someone like the assistant principal or guidance counselor to be kneeling in front of you. Instead, you were met with the concerned countenance of none other than Kol Mikaelson. 

You froze, staring at him with wide eyes. 

He proffered a gentle smile and said something, but his words were lost to the prattling hum that encompassed your world without hearing aids. You preferred it this way. It was your natural state. You saw instead of listened, it was what made you such a good artist. Or so you'd thought.

You shook your head at him weakly, pointing to your ears, and mouthed, "I can't hear you."

Why was he here? Was he just going to tease you as he had a few weeks ago on the football stands? 

Kol nodded. "I know," He signed. His movements were small and lax - nonthreatening. 

Unsure how to interpret his sudden kindness and understanding, you shifted to sit up a little straighter, eyeing him. Kol's lips pressed into a thin line that tried to look like a smile. Without warning, he removed the textbooks resting in your lap and stood.

"Let's get you out of here, yeah?" He sighed, offering you his hand. Hesitantly, you reached out and took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. You stiffened as the boy let go of your hand and instead wrapped his arm around your waist. He pulled you swiftly against his side, shielding you from the view of others in the hallway as he hastily but gently herded you down crowded hallways and out the heavy steel front doors. 

Just outside the school, there were picnic tables set up where students could sit to study or eat lunch. Those were deserted by now as first period was speedily approaching. Kol guided you to one of them and dropped your books on the table, gesturing for you to sit. You weren't overly fond of being told what to do, but you figured this was probably Kol's best effort to be nice so you obliged. He sat down in front of you and cupped your jaw in his hand. With his brows furrowed and expression drawn the boy seemed to be inspecting your face, though for what you couldn't be sure. 

Absently, you noticed that his hands were very warm despite the changing season. (Why that thought made your stomach queasy was a question for another time.)

Kol's thumb brushed over your cheek and you wanted to look away to hide the flare of heat that consumed your cheeks, but he wouldn't let you. 

"Well, you're not panicking," He observed after what felt like an eternity. "That's good." 

His words were muffled without your hearing aids but now, away from the commotion of the bustling hallways, you could understand him well enough. 

You gave a small nod and, refusing to meet his eyes, focused instead on the grass beneath your feet. 

"I'm fine," You whispered. Your voice was a little hoarse but he didn't know you well enough to recognize that. 

"Are you sure?"

The question was inevitable, yet you found yourself scowling anyway. 

Of course you were fine. You were always fine. 

You wanted to tell him that you didn't want his pity, that you weren't some distressing damsel and that he needed to mind his own business. You weren't some charity case he could use to prove to all the senior girls that he could be a sensitive boyfriend. (You'd been there once. You weren't going through it again.) But, as always, the boldness in your head could never seem to leave your lips.

"It's not your responsibility to take care of me," You told him instead. In your lap, your hands fiddled and tugged on the too-long sleeves of your sweater. You'd gotten chalk on your jeans again.

He let his hand drop and the swirling autumn winds cooled your cheeks. You sort of missed the warmth.

"I know that." Kol's concern morphed into a smirk. This was it. You prepared for the incoming ridicule. It never came. "You don't like anyone getting close, do you?" He guessed, casually leaning back as though he already knew the answer. (And respected it.) "Makes you uncomfortable, I'd imagine."

You shrugged and picked at the loose threads on your sleeve. Honestly, he was right - you were just a bucket of trust issues in a Technicolor wrapper. But was that any of his business? No.

"Why are you here?" You wondered in lieu of an answer. 

Kol raised a brow. "Apologies, darling. I was unaware that it's illegal for a bloke to be a good friend 'this side of the pond." 

"It's not illegal," You said. Your eyes narrowed. "But we're not friends."

You'd made a handful of friends since moving to this town. None of them had come to your aid. Then again, none of them knew about your sketchbook.

Kol smirked. "Consider this an application then!" He surmised, eyes glinting. Those unnerving tar pits seemed a little less dead today than they had before. What changed? He chuckled, amused at your loss for words, and continued. "Besides, I get the feeling I'm just about the only one who knows that sketchbook of yours was stolen from you. The only thing I want to know is, what made you draw that picture?" 

Maybe… if you told him the truth about the sketches, he wouldn't look any closer. 

"I don't like Stefan Salvatore," Came your quiet answer. 

That didn't seem to be what he was expecting, but he didn't look disappointed. Kol's lips twitched and he wet his lips in a way that betrayed a certain excitement. 

"Go on."

You took a breath.

"He and I were the only two new kids last year," You began. If you said this, you were going to sound like a lunatic, that was why you'd always opted to draw it out instead. "Strange things happen in this town, and they happen around him. No town has as many "animal attacks" as this one and those only started when he showed up. People started going missing. Some were found dead. Mr. Saltzman is our history teacher because the guy before him got ripped up right over there in the parking lot just before Stefan's first game as part of team. The police said it was a mountain lion, but I was there; I saw the body and there were no scratches. Then there's the way some of his friends a-and Mr. Saltzman look at him sometimes - I've seen them do it - like he's about to murder everyone in the room and they don't know how to stop him."

Kol stared at you. His expression had grown increasingly weary the longer you kept on rambling. When you finally closed your mouth, he nodded slowly, brows furrowed. You bit your lip, awaiting his response.

"That is…" He trailed off. To your great surprise, however, he nodded as if he actually believed you. "Deeply disturbing, darling." Kol's eyes narrowed and he leaned in closer. "You say you saw your teacher's corpse?" He asked.

You nodded. "The "bite" on his neck looked a lot more like buck-shot to me."

His eyes widened. "You think someone killed him?" He hissed.

"And the police covered it up."

"So why draw the football team?"

You hugged your arms around yourself. "Because Matt Donovan is in on it. It's him, Tyler Lockwood, and Stefan Salvatore - they've been acting so weird. Two months ago, Tyler and Stefan started acting really mean all of a sudden and the rest of the football team just started acting like zombies, doing anything they said. It was really freaky."

"And you drew it so you wouldn't have to be afraid." Kol nodded, smiling softly. "Put all the horrors in a little book and out of your head."

This kid had you dead to rights.

You tugged on the sleeves of your sweater. "I never meant to hurt anyone," You sighed.

"I know," He said. "For the record, I quite liked your little interpretation."

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

"I'm not sure yet," The dark-haired boy admitted with a shrug. "Honestly, I've never known another town to have as many functions as this one."

"Right?!" You exclaimed. Finally, someone else saw it! "Smells like organized crime to me…"

"Or cult activity."

"Or that."

"Or maybe you're just a little paranoid," Kol surmised. "But if that's the case, then who am I to judge?"

For the first time in a while, your shoulders shook with a genuine laugh. 

"Thanks Kol."

"Anytime, love."

And that boy lived up to his word. Over the span of the next several weeks, more of your sketches were spread about the school. It wasn't long before your so-called friends had all cut contact. Kol became the only person in town willing to talk to you. Every time a drawing was leaked, no matter how dark, twisted, or gruesome the image, Kol was always there to comfort you and compliment your art style. 

Each drawing that circulated the school was more damaging to your reputation than the last. Anyone you thought was in on the secret of Mystic Falls' suspicious deaths, you turned into a monster in the pages of your sketchbook. 

Jeremy Gilbert became a tortured Voodoo doll. 

("Well, there's an odd comparison," Kol commented idly, inspecting the array of pages that had overtaken your locker. "I quite like it."

A student shoved past you on their way to class, ramming painfully into your shoulder. You winced, aware that the action was purposeful, but you didn't say anything. Kol, however, glared at the kid - a cold, chilling sort of glare. 

You shrugged, readjusting your backpack.

"He just always seems so pained lately. 'Looks at everyone like they're gonna kill 'em.")

Elena, his sister, you portrayed as a prim, psychotic puppet master. 

("I'm sorry, but have I done something to you?" The popular and gorgeous former cheerleader asked when she confronted you about the sketch she clutched in her hand. Seniors Stefan Salvatore and Matt Donovan stood with their arms crossed, flanking her on both sides. The sight only served to reinforce the role your imagination had given her - the girl wore her ex's around her like accessories. They were always there to cover for her strange behavior.

"N-no, it's not like that. I-I-I swear!" You stammered, eyes flicking between her broad-shouldered bodyguards. You swallowed thickly. 

"Look, Y/N," Elena sighed. "I'm not mad at you, but whatever is going on in your life, you can't take it out on me. Or anyone else." 

"That's not what I'm doing," You mumbled, shuffling your feet. She didn't seem to hear you. 

"You know, if there's something bothering you, then you need to tell someone about it," Elena said. You were only a few months younger than her, yet she talked down to you as though you were a toddler. You wished the anger that flared and frothed inside you, didn't look like shame as it stained your cheeks. "I know we're not close, but you can always tell me if something's happening, okay?"

"No thank you, I'm fine." 

"Y/N, it's okay to let someone in." The girl pressed. 

You gritted your teeth, wishing she would just go. "I-"

"Pretty sure she doesn't have to tell you anything, sweetheart," A melodiously snide voice hummed from behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you shot Kol a relieved smile. He dropped a quick wink in return before focusing on his fellow seniors. Elena and her posse seemed to tense up around him for some reason. 

"What's it to you, Kol?" Stefan demanded. 

"Oh, I dunno. Basic human decency? Nothing much," He replied. The dark-haired senior shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked, smug as a bug. 

"How 'bout you mind your own damn business for a change," Matt snapped. He almost made a move toward your friend but Elena stopped him with a hand on his arm.

Kol snorted at their reactions. "Why so defensive? 'Weren't expecting this lovely young lady to have some back-up?" He slung an arm around your shoulder and began twisting a lock of your hair around and around his finger. You sort of liked him tugging on it the way he did.

"We were just a little concerned," Elena claimed.

"Right." Kol smiled thinly. Releasing his fingers from your hair, he took a threatening step forward. You hadn't realized before just how tall that boy was. "Well, as Y/N said, she doesn't need your concern. So why don't you run along and take your puppets with you." 

The three seniors reluctantly surrendered under the force of Kol's steely glare and you watched them go, hugging your arms around yourself and shivering. Kol turned back to you. His hands found their way to your shoulders and he stopped down a little to look you in the eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked. His eyes were still dark, but not the pits of tar they'd been before. They were more like soft dirt now, holding the promise of future life. 

Kol gently smoothed his hands over your arms, spreading a gooey, molten warmth everywhere his skin touched. There was something bubbly in your lungs and the shudder that ran down your spine this time wasn't from nerves. 

You took a breath and tried to ignore how his touch made you want to melt.

"I'm fine," You lied. You were fine. You were always fine.

The boy smiled as though he didn't quite believe you. "That's good." He tilted his head in the direction Elena and the others had disappeared to. "You were right about them, though. There's definitely something strange going on there."

You nodded. "Thanks."

"Of course, darling.")

Bonnie Bennett, by the grace of your overactive imagination, had been transformed into a wicked witch. Ancient runes glowed in the air, surrounding her dark ritual. Oddly enough, the thief had changed a few of them, though you weren't sure why.  

("If I might ask, why a witch for that one?" Kol asked as the girl herself scowled venomously at you from the other side of the gym.

He sat with his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, leaning in close so you would hear him though he spoke softly, having stayed a little longer after school to help you with your chemistry homework now that no one else would. You could smell cinnamon and something tangy on his breath as his lips brushed over your ear and you tried not to shiver. The whole school probably thought you were a couple, but you knew that wasn't the case. 

"There's some weird looking stuff in that girl's locker," You whispered back, pretending to be blissfully unaware of the daggers she was glaring at your head. If you didn't know better, you would have sworn the temperature of the room dropped a few degrees. "At the fundraiser we had last year, there was this car that just caught fire outta nowhere. The thing wasn't even running and it just exploded. Everybody was freaking out and running but Bonnie just stood there, staring at it like she was possessed."

Kol glanced up at the Bennett girl again. "You know what?" He decided, tilting his head. "I can see it." He sent Bonnie a little wave and turned back to your homework. "I loved the runes you included in that drawing, though," The boy added. 

"Yeah?" You couldn't help but smile.

"Absolutely. Most of them were even correct," He shot you a crooked grin. "It was impressive."

You raised a brow. "Can you… read Runic?"

"Mmhm," He hummed, checking off another problem on your homework. "Remind me and I'll teach you sometime."

You were about to ask where and when he would have learned something like that, but the question was plucked from your brain before you got the chance.

You drew in a sharp breath as his hand, which had previously rested like a ghost's on your hip, slipped deftly under your shirt. Unsure whether you liked it or not, you couldn't decide as your brain had simply quit functioning properly. All you could seem to register was that Kol was touching you and it wasn't a "just friends" sort of touch. Your cheeks felt like they'd caught fire as you glanced up at him, blinking owlishly, only to find that he was already watching you with an unexpectedly sweet smile. He studied your expression, waiting for you to protest - to say no. 

When you remained silent, that sweet smile twisted into a smirk. Leaning down, you felt a soft, tender kiss to your cheek just as Kol pressed his fingers firmly into your skin, wasting no time before he began to explore. His hand was warm, gentle, and soft as he stroked and petted your stomach. Something warm and jittery built up in your chest. It climbed up your throat, threatening to spill out. You whimpered quietly, unable to hold it back. Yet, that only seemed to encourage him. Kol hummed and slid his hand lower with another kiss to your cheek. What was that boy doing to you? Your whole body burned as he continued to fondle and caress you shamelessly. Shuddering, you bit back a moan and curled yourself closer to him, fisting his jacket as though he could hide you from the world. Kol just smirked and continued going over your homework. 

He didn't let go of you - didn't stop touching you - until the bell rang. Then he just got up, shot you a wink, and left without another word.)

Slowly, that boy earned your trust because, though you didn't know exactly how to define your relationship with him, he was always there for you. It was nice to have someone who knew why you had drawn those pictures. Not because you were self-righteous and judgemental, but because there was something very real and very disturbing going on and you needed a way to purge the constant fear from your mind.

Kol believed you. There was something wrong with this town. You weren't crazy.

But no one else could see that. 

The day a sketch of Sheriff Forbes - Caroline's mother - made its way around the student body was the day you were called to the principal's office. The picture displayed Sheriff Forbes as a creature like the Other Mother from Coraline, dutifully sewing shut the mouths of townspeople and stitching buttons over their eyes. The Sheriff was a kind woman. She didn't deserve to be depicted that way. But at the same time, you knew she was hiding something.

So there you sat on the wrong side of the principal's desk, eyes locked firmly on your lap as the graying woman watched you with a disappointed frown.

"Y/N, this is not acceptable," She said, tight-lipped with tired eyes.

"I know," You mumbled.

"Then why did you draw these pictures in the first place?" The woman demanded. 

You shrugged haplessly. She wouldn't believe you if you told the truth. She'd probably recommend you to a mental health institution. 

The principal sighed. "Y/N, it's not my business what you do in your free time, but this has to stop. You need to stop."

"It's not me!" You protested. "Someone stole my sketchbook."

"Well, then you had better find a way to get it back, and once you do I highly recommend you burn it. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to suspend you," She said, folding her hands atop the desk. "The mayor has also been made aware of these sketches and she asked me to warn you that, should another one of these offensive images appear, you can consider her commission canceled."

Your heart stuttered and sank. 

You wanted to scream and cry and tell the world it was all so unfair but all that came out of your mouth was, "Okay."

The principal nodded. "Good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N."

That was your cue to leave. 

You exited her office and shut the door behind you, letting go of a long sigh. Kol was sitting outside, waiting for you. He was always there for you. Upon seeing your distraught expression, the boy got up and wound his arms around you, holding you close. You clung to him, squeezing your eyes shut and grinding your teeth as you buried your face in his chest. 

Kol pressed a feather-light kiss to the crown of your head. “Are you alright?” He asked, just as he always did.

You took a deep breath-

(You were fine. You were always fine.)

-and let out a string of cuss words so foul they’d make a sailor blush.

He hissed in sympathy and hugged you tighter. “I take it that’s a no.”

Kol was a good friend. True, his words sometimes carried a sting to them and some of his touches lingered a little too long to be just friendly. But he was good. The two of you had come a long way since you'd first met him. When he pulled away, he probably should have rested his hands on your waist but Kol grabbed you by your hips instead. His hands were very warm and you found yourself blushing. But if you were being honest, you liked the way he was touching you - the way he had been for a while now.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, hesitantly watching your face though you refused to meet his eyes.

"No," You answered. 

Kol offered you a strained smile and tugged you back into that tight hug. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" He said, gently.

Kol had been such a good friend to you. The least you could do was show him some trust.

"I'd rather show you." 

***

Her hand slid down his arm to his hand which Kol reluctantly lifted off her hip. Then, without another word - because she didn’t talk all that much - she led him off down the hallway. He allowed her to pull him along, amused (and two other things he was trying really hard to ignore.)

There was this funny feeling he got when he looked at that girl sometimes, with her chalk and paint-stained clothes, messy hair, and tired eyes. It was warm and pleasant and it reminded him of how he felt after a really big feed, except not like that at all. He felt satisfied, content… full, but there was nothing sinister about it. Kol found himself unsure how to label that sensation seeing has he’d so rarely felt it and when he had it was fleeting - gone before he could enjoy it. 

This time, however, when it came, that feeling lingered.

And not because he’d killed anyone recently! Kol Mikaelson had not rubbed out a single soul in that miserable little town. (A surprise to all, certainly.) That odd feeling stayed with him day to day, and he tried to ignore how pleasant it was because surly it would disappear any day now… But it never did. Kol knew it had something to do with his little artist but, honestly, that just confused him further. More baffling still was the notion that, over the past few weeks, he hadn’t found himself craving the high that exacting death always afforded him. Sure, he felt a little… hungry (that didn’t seem like the right term) on the weekends, but then he’d see her in the hallways and he felt content again. It wasn’t the sort of satisfaction he took from any of his games either.

That’s what this whole thing had started as - what it was. (Just that he had to remind himself of that fact was unsettling.) It was just a game. He’d played it hundreds of times before with hundreds of girls like her. It was the game where he came into their lives from out of the blue, stripped away every single thing they cared about - robbed them of their friends, their reputation, their comforts, their dreams - and did that all while making them love him for it. Then, once he got them into his bed, he shattered their illusions right before he killed them.

He was so close to winning this one too. Her friends had all abandoned her, half the town was convinced she was schizophrenic, and her dreams were one little sketchbook page away from being crushed. There was just one problem. 

This time, he didn’t want the game to end.

This time, he felt an uncomfortable stabbing sensation in his chest (not unlike the point of a dagger) every time she flinched. Every time she switched off her hearing aids, every time she hugged herself and sighed, every time she pursed her lips on the verge of tears - Kol felt something he hadn’t felt in well over nine hundred years. Guilt. Because he was the one spreading that girl’s naughty little pictures through the halls just so she would want him around. 

Kol simply didn’t understand what made her different. She was human. She wasn’t strong or powerful or even witty. The girl was shy, she hardly said a word to anyone but him, and when some kid shouted abuse in her face she just stood there and took it. She was so plain and boring that Kol often found himself wondering why he hadn’t eaten her yet. 

Sometimes though, she surprised him. 

She surprised him when she shoved her way though the front doors in the middle of the school day. Previously, Kol was convinced that girl had never broken a rule in her life.

She surprised him when she cussed like a sailor and didn’t apologize one bit. Was a girl like that even allowed to say those words? Legally?

But most of all, she surprised him when she tugged him along by the hand in the drizzling rain through the backwoods of Virginia, off the hiking trails, and down into a ravine where she only stopped in front of a looming chain-link fence. That fence had a big, red “No Trespassing” sign attached to it.

She suprised him when she was always fine. That girl accepted his hugs, his touch, his comfort - but she didn’t need it.

Thus, Kol was well and truly floored when his tiny sweet, delicious little artist dropped his hand and scrambled up and over that fence like a monkey scales a tree. He couldn’t believe his eyes. She had absolutely, positively, and without a doubt just broken a law. That couldn’t be right. She was too shy to break the law. This was the same girl that apologized when she broke her bloody pencil.

"You coming or not?" She challenged. And then... Then, she smiled.

The sight of it took Kol's breath away.

That smile. He didn't understand it. Y/N was no witch - he knew that for certain. But somehow there was something magical about that smile.

There were moments - only a handful of them - like the one he was in right then. Those times were so rare but when they occurred, Kol's tiny, sweet, piquant little artist would look back at him, usually over her shoulder, and send him this... this smile. The twist of her lips he'd seen her wear when he'd first met her, the one she passed out to her so-called friends, was a fake he came to realize.

This real one was so much prettier.

Words had so rarely failed him, but there was no language Kol knew that could quite describe just what that smile looked like - what it made him feel or why. That smile of her's was just so real - so deeply heartfelt - that it always made him want to smile back. Her's was never never a silly or obnoxious grin that she gave to him. It was this tiny quirk of her lips that made her eyes sparkle and her cheeks glow a subtle, appetizing pink. Her beauty wasn't like that of the models in those magazines Bekah liked - she wasn't spectacularly eye-catching. That girl's smile didn't light up a room, but it lit a fire in his chest the likes of which he'd never known. It twisted his stomach and Kol felt so hungry every time he got to witness that smile. Except that hunger wasn't the sinister kind he was so familiar with. When she smiled at him, he didn't want to hurt that girl.

He just wanted to pin her against a tree and kiss those beautifully curled lips until the taste of his extraordinary artist was seared into his infallible mind for all eternity.

It wasn't just lust either. It was more than that. Kol didn't want her just because she had a pretty smile. He needed her because that smile only appeared for him - no one else. Kol could make that girl smile and it had nothing to do with his physical appearance. His little artist's smile was reserved just for him simply because he was there to see it. She smiled because he existed and that idea was one he couldn't help but revel in. After all, when was the last time he got something all to himself without having to fight tooth and nail for it?

“Say, love, are we getting close to the bridge?” He wondered. It was the bridge or the falls, but he couldn’t be sure. Y/N didn’t reply. Her lovely, perfect, scrumptious little laugh was all he got in response. After a few more minutes of walking in silence - which he found he liked better than all the other girls he’d ever played with who always felt a need to fill the gap with meaningless prattle - they reached their destination.

So, Kol grinned. That was his real smile too. Only she could bring it out. "Of couse, darling."

He jumped and scaled the fence with the same ease as his quiet companion who took off again as soon as his feet hit the ground. It wasn't long before his enhanced hearing caught the sound of water rushing nearby.

Once free of the tree line, Kol glimpsed the dreary silhouette of Wickery Bridge breaking through the haze of rain and gloom. His little artist glanced back at him with something wild and ferocious gleaming in her eyes. For a moment, he was taken aback by the sight. But that moment was swiftly overtaken by sheer, lucidious excitement. He returned her smile and she bounded off down toward the water. He followed, enraptured and curious as she came to a stop underneath the bridge. 

“Alright, my sweet, I think I’ve let you go on long enough,” He said upon catching up with her, not that doing so was any struggle. “What’s so important that you brought me all the way out here?” 

The girl didn’t say anything. Instead, she began climbing up the mess of rocks and driftwood that had collected on the banks of the river, making her way up to the crevice where the bridge split from the shoreline. As she did, her hand slipped on one of the rocks and she spat out another string of cuss words that would peel the scales off a snake. Normally, Kol would have been impressed; however, he was a little too busy focusing on the minuscule part of him that didn’t want to rip out her throat. 

She’d cut her hand on those rocks and it wasn’t just a little scrape, like the ones he’d grown accustomed to. This was a long, jagged slit across her palm and her all-too-tempting blood was spilling down her arm in beautiful crimson rivers. 

And terrible, awful, horrid reality came crashing back in on him.

For a while there, Kol had almost forgotten the two of them weren’t the same. Somehow he’d felt full enough - full of something, full of her - for long enough that he’d forgotten he wasn’t who and what he was pretending to be. He’d forgotten about what he was doing and why he was there and what he was supposed to be doing with her. He’d forgotten that he was the predator and she was the prey. 

He was there solely to charm her into surrendering her blood and her body. That was it.

THAT. WAS. IT.

Kol hurt people. That was what he did. He screwed up, and he hurt people, and he laughed about it.

So why did the thought of sinking his teeth into that artist’s pretty little neck seem to tear his lungs to shreds? No - not his lungs - that thing between them. That thing he ignored. That thing he didn’t have. Most people call it a heart.

What was that about? Kol was a monster. He hadn’t felt anything in years, aside from rage, hunger, and the occasional apathy. One thousand years of never giving a damn about the value of human life. And now what? His heart suddenly decided to garner affection for one lonely, miserable, pathetic, perfect, baffling, innocent, gorgeous, plush, soft, disillusioned little artist? Now?

Why now? Why her?

(It had been so long. And he’d had no one.)

She was the only one who ever smiled just for him. The only one who ever trusted him enough to let him see how terrified she truly was. She was scared, so scared all the time that something would spring from the shadows that lurked around every corner to snuff out her soul. She should be, he knew. She was right to be scared. Because Kol was right next to her and he was the only person not in her sketchbook. Sure, she’d never had the chance to put him in there but he’d asked her once what he would look like if she were to draw him like she did everyone else, and his tantalizing little artist had told him she didn’t see Kol that way - that he was her friend. She didn’t know it, and he didn’t want her to know it, but she should be scared of him. 

Kol wanted to kill her - needed to kill her. He craved so desperately to ravish that appetizing girl right where they stood. Bloody hell, she should be terrified! 

Yet, he didn’t want to scare her - didn’t mean to. He was just hungry - that was all. No one was around. No one could stop him. She didn’t need to be afraid. He could make her feel good. She might like it. Kol was just hungry - he didn’t want to hurt her. One taste wouldn’t hurt her so bad, would it? She would forgive him. One bite would be enough and then he’d stop. Except he wouldn’t and Kol knew that. He would drain every last drop of scarlet from her body and he knew she would be the most exhilarating high he’d ever get. But he didn’t have to feel bad about it. He could dump her body in the river and he’d never see her again. 

Oh.

That was it.

He’d never see her again.

No. No, he wanted to see her smile again. Wanted to hear her laugh. Wanted to listen to all of her secrets and wanted that girl to let him touch her for real. No. No, no, no, nonononononononononono.

And all this ran through his head before his artist had even finished cussing. 

Y/N waved her hand in the air, displaying her cut. “God hates me!” She called down to him cheerfully. That sunny demeanor that had once annoyed him so now brought him a laugh.

“That’s on you, darling. Perhaps if you were to tell me what it is that you’re trying to achieve, I might be able to assist,” He pointed out, still chuckling to himself. The girl shrugged and reached into the crevice, feeling around for something. “If you get bit by a snake, I’m going to laugh,” Kol mused. She twisted her other hand around and flipped him the bird. After another moment of watching her grope around in a dark hole, his little artist let out an exclamation of success and retrieved her arm which was now attached to a large, black duffle bag. Carefully, she climbed down and tossed the bag on the ground. 

“Ta da!” She grinned at him. It was an odd expression - like her face didn’t quite know how to express her current joy to another being.

Kol raised a brow. “Wow,” He deadpanned. “Color me impressed.” 

Her smile didn’t falter.

“The council just finished renovating this bridge,” She said as though that explained everything.

“And?”

Instead of answering, she simply bent down and unzipped the bag at her feet. Meanwhile, ever the gentleman, Kol forced himself to turn away from admiring the exquisite view of her cleavage this action presented him. He wanted her, yes. Kol delighted in reducing his little artist into a blushing puddle when he touched her. But if he was going to have that girl, he was going to have her everything. Her smile, her heart, her mind, her body, and her respect. Everything. Not just empty lust.

From out of the bag, Y/N drew a pair of gloves, a mask, and two cans of what Kol now recognized to be spray paint. Then, donning the gloves and mask, she marched down to the concrete trusses of Wickery Bridge and got to work. The giant concrete slabs were practically one perfectly untouched canvas for her to exploit.

Suddenly, all those strange behaviors made a whole lot of sense.

“Bloody hell, the girl’s a vandal!” Kol barked a laugh. "I wondered what it was you were so desperate to keep me away from,” He said, shaking his head. “I had my suspicions but this… was not one of them.”

“Oh really,” His artist scoffed. She started out her mural with layers of red. “And what were those suspicions?”

“Abusive parents was number one,” He listed, stretching out casually on the ground, back against a rock. Not the most uncomfortable position he’d ever held. “Self-harm was number two, and number three was a sordid drug habit.”

“Do I really come off that pathetic?” She wondered blithely. 

“Most of the time, yeah.”  

The girl snorted. “Good for me!”

“That desperate to hide your little crimes, are you?” He chuckled.

“Yep!”

“Why?”

“Well, mostly-” She paused to switch colors, going with black now. “-because if Mayor Lockwood ever found out I was the one painting her little town red, I’d lose my commission to paint town square and uh… I like money.”

“Understandable.” He nodded. “I sense an “and” coming.”

“And,” She continued with a slight laugh. “I might have possibly tagged a few properties worth a lot more than a bridge.” She hesitated. “Or a town… or a castle.”

That last remark was enough to have Kol sitting up straight. “So you were the miscreant who wrote out “Blood Money” on the side of my house!” He exclaimed, wide-eyed. It was impressive as no one in his family had heard anyone approach the house that night, yet the message had been there in bright red the next morning. How had she pulled that off?

The girl froze in her painting. “That was your house?”

“Indeed it was.”

“Whoops.”

Kol waved a hand. “Eh. No harm done.” 

“So… not a mafia base then?” 

He wished she was wrong. Kol really wished he wasn’t everything that terrified his precious artist. But he was. And that wouldn’t change.

So he laughed.

“Well, if I told you that, I’d have to kill you,” He joked. Except it wasn’t a joke. But he could let her think it was. He could pretend he believed that too. He could pretend he was just a normal kid, enjoying the company of a beautiful girl. He could pretend that.

She threw her head back and laughed. 

What a beautiful thing.

“Okay! I’m done talking now!” She announced without providing any segue whatsoever. He liked that about her though, that she was blunt and direct. It amused him. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do then?” He protested. He wasn’t all that broken up about it. Just being around that girl was enough to sate his hunger for her. That's what his little game had turned into. 

She shrugged and flipped her hearing aids off, so he supposed that was the end of it. 

“You know, I’m actually a vampire,” He told her. Kol knew she couldn’t hear him and his words fell on deaf ears. He figured he should tell her the truth though. Even if it was only this once. At least then he could say he had. 

“I’ve murdered hundreds of thousands of people - plenty of them for no reason at all. As for you…

“Well, I’ll probably kill you one day. Hell, I almost did just now. I’m not all that great at self-control, you see.” He let go of a bitter laugh and scooped a pebble off the ground, laying back he tossed it over his head and caught it again and again. “But I’m really great at screwing things up!”

“I stole your sketchbook,” He admitted, a little quieter. “It was just supposed to be a bit of fun, but it’s not fun anymore. I-I don’t like to see you hurting. I could stop. That bloody school would never see another picture.” 

He lifted his head, watching her back as she continued painting. 

“But would you still love me if I did?” Kol sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t think you would. You don’t need me.”

This time, when he tossed the rock, he didn’t catch it. The stone flew and landed in the river, lost to the moving water.

“Nobody does.”

He was glad she couldn’t hear him. He could talk to her and she would never know. Blissfully ignorant, he could watch with a lazy smile as she swung her hips and just kept on painting, without a care in the world. His horribly lovely artist sang quietly to herself as the light of the setting sun bounded off the water and carded through her hair, casting an ephemeral glow all around her. He wondered if her quiet verse might be meant for him. He knew that wasn’t the case. For someone so observant and suspicious, she could be quite blind. He doubted she could be in love with him or that she understood how he felt for her. But like with the rest of this bittersweet scene, Kol could pretend. 

“Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows

Everything that's wonderful is what I feel when we're together

Brighter than a lucky penny

When you're near the rain goes, disappears, dear

And I feel so fine

Just to know that you are mine…”

***

Robert Frost had been right, you decided the day your world fell apart. You would have preferred your world had been destroyed in one giant, raging fire. Of course, you didn't get to choose. Your world froze over slowly. The cold strangled your opportunities and relationships one by one until you were left entirely alone.

You stood in front of your locker that day, staring at the final nail in the coffin of your reputation and future. This was how it was to end. In ice. You felt like ice as you stared at that final drawing - cold and despondent. 

That sketch was of Alaric Saltzman, your kindhearted history teacher who believed in infinite chances for a student's grades. He always wore a pained smile - it was a smile for everyone else because he was still hurting but wanted the kids he taught to look forward to the rest of their lives as he no longer did.

You had drawn him differently.

No smile. Just the pain. Pain that had morphed into bitterness and bitterness into hate. He was sitting in his desk chair, facing towards the door - toward the viewer - with a bottle of bourbon in one hand, and a gun in the other. Smoke rose from the barrel of that gun, and the viewer's perception was tinted red.

You had drawn your history teacher murdering you in cold blood. 

Who does that?

"So…" The silky lilt of Kol's gentle accent tugged you from your thoughts and brought just a little relief. Even if you had nothing, you had Kol. "Do I want to know what inspired this one? Or would I rather sleep tonight?"

You shrugged, apathetic. The weight of the moment yet to sink in.

"I saw a gun in his desk," You answered tonelessly. 

"No shit?"

"Uh, huh." You nodded. "Right next to the colored pencils."

The boy whistled. "I'm regretting some of the things I put in my essay now," He said. 

A tiny smile tugged at your lips. "As if you did it."

"Ouch, darling. That hurts." He chuckled lightly and you felt his arms encircle your waist from behind. He tugged you close, resting his head on your shoulder. "You don't know everything about me."

He was trying to joke, for your sake. But nothing could make this better.

"What do I do now?" You asked with a sigh. Kol pressed a kiss to your cheek - light as a feather. For whatever reason, it felt like an apology.

"Well, if I were you," He said. "I'd go out with a bang."

You nodded and shrugged - indifferent. "A bang sounds good."

Kol released you as you slipped your backpack off your shoulders. Eyeing you with a mix of confusion and anticipation, your best friend's eyes flew wide as he watched you wander over to the nearest window, arms reeling back. 

With all your might, you flung your back through the window.

It shattered into a million tiny pieces.

The raucous hallway fell silent and a few dozen pairs of eyes locked on you.

"One of you bastards stole my sketchbook," You told them, not bothering to raise your voice in the slightest. "Is that what you wanted? To see me fall apart?"

No one answered of course as you glanced between stunned expressions.

"Well, I hope you're happy now," You rasped. Shoving a few kids out of your way with the harshness that had been building inside you for months now, you left that school behind you and didn't look back.

The only sound to be heard was Kol's low whistle as the heavy steel doors swung shut. The tears streaming down your face were silent.

You sprinted home through the driving rain, the sky dark and close, almost like a blanket. Perhaps the whole world was crying with you. After all, it always seemed to rain when you were sad.

To your relief, your parents were still at work. You had the comfort of crying in peace. Slamming the door shut, you pressed your back against it, slid to the floor… and screamed.

This was your life and it was crumbling in your hands. What else were you supposed to do?

A light knock tapped against the door. So quiet you wouldn't have heard it if the vibrations weren't centered right next to your ear. 

"Y/N?" Kol's voice called from the other side of the wood. You didn't say anything, though your ragged breathing was far from quiet. "Y/N, I know you're in there. I can hear you crying." He laid his hand flat. You could hear that ring he always wore scraping against the wooden surface. "Please let me in?"

You shook your head. "I'm not some charity case," You choked out, throat raw.

"Perhaps to someone else you are," Kol said. He must have been kneeling on your front porch. "But not me. I don't have charity, darling. I'm rather selfish actually."

You huffed a laugh. It was humorless.

"Then why come?"

"Because I'm selfish," He replied. Then quieter. "I don't like to see you cry." His ring tapped against the door a few times. "Darling, please let me in? I want to help."

Your teeth clenched like a vice.

"I don't need you."

For years you'd longed to say those words. Finally, in this haze of fury and anguish, they weren't so hard to speak.

"I know." He sighed. "I know you don't, darling. It's part of why I like you so much."

Well as long as he understood, perhaps it was alright 

You scraped yourself off the floor and opened the door. Kol stood outside, drenched to the bone, same as you. His eyes weren't dead anymore - not the distant black holes they'd once been. No, his eyes were warm chocolate now, melting with something sad. He really did care.

"Come in," You signed, too worn out to speak. 

Kol's brows furrowed. He seemed worried for a moment, though you couldn't guess why. Then he took a tentative step through the door, smiled, and stepped closer, closing the door behind him. 

You watched him take his shoes and coat off through the dim light. Your house was dark. You hadn't bothered with any lights. Once he'd finished, Kol glanced up at you questioningly. You regarded him for a moment. After all, these sorts of situations never seemed to turn out well in the books you'd read and the shows you'd watched. The characters in those stories always seemed to end up doing something they'd regret.

Or maybe they didn't regret it. 

You thought you would though. 

So, contrary to what Kol was likely expecting, you didn't throw yourself into his arms. You just turned and shuffled into the kitchen. You finally switched on some lights. After a moment, he followed you, watching intently. Milling about in science, you collected the supplies required to make the two of you a cup of tea. Your quiet nature combined with your parent's distrust of humanity meant you'd never really had a friend like Kol before - someone you brought to your house and shared food with.

"You hungry?" You asked, waiting for the water to boil. Your hands shook a little, but you didn't feel like speaking. He leaned against the counter opposite you and offered a thin smile you felt you didn't quite understand.

"I'll be okay," He signed back after a moment. He took a deep breath. "I'm more worried about you."

You grimaced involuntarily, eyes shifting to the kettle on the stove. Inside, the pressure would be building until it all rushed out.

"I'm not broken, Kol," You whispered, voice hoarse and thick with more emotion than you'd ever known how to say.

"I know that-" He began, lifting his hands defensively.

"Then why do you look at me like I am?"

Kol's lips pressed into a thin line, nodding. You'd caught onto his ways a long time ago. That boy had been eyeing you like no one you'd ever known since you'd first met him. The only difference was now you were brave enough to call him out on it. So what if he saw you for who you really were? He'd seen enough of it by now. You were sick of hiding anyway.

Kol sighed and pushed off the counter. He made his way toward you with soft eyes and tentative steps until he stood just inches away, boxing you in. You met his dark chocolate eyes and refused to back down even though you knew your cheeks were stained pink. You'd never let anyone this close before.

Pursing his lips, the boy glanced down at the space between you and lifted his hand. He trailed his knuckles hesitantly over your side, then met your eyes again as if to ask permission. You swallowed thickly, but didn't tell him no. With a ghost of a smile, Kol laid his hands on your hips and squeezed firmly. You couldn’t withhold a shudder. His thumbs slipped under your shirt and rubbed your skin softly as he'd done for you a few times before, knowing how much you liked it. His hands seemed to fit perfectly over your hips as though he'd been made to hold you. 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you relaxed into his touch, letting go of a sigh. His searing hands felt nice when the whole world felt so cold. You needed him closer. 

Reaching up, you fisted the collar of his shirt rather harshly and dragged him toward you, pressing your whole body against his. He flinched slightly, surprised by your newfound eagerness, but he quickly reciprocated. Kol chuckled softly and you felt his lips graze your temple before he clinched your hips tighter and lifted you to sit atop the counter. Your heart stuttered and raced in your chest and you gasped sharply, drawing back enough to catch the smirk dancing on his lips. Your cheeks reddened further as he urged you to spread your legs so he could stand between them. His arms circled around your back and you hesitated.

So what if he was a senior? So what if you were a couple of months younger than he was? He'd been a good friend to you. 

Shaking your doubts away, you wrapped your legs around him and rested your head on his chest. Kol hummed quietly and pressed another soft kiss to the crown of your hair.

"I know you're not broken, darling," He said. His hands ran up and down your back, massaging a blazing heat into your bones. "I'm just trying to figure out what it is that you really are."

Your hands on his shirt clenched tighter.

"I'm angry,” You admitted. 

“Why?”

His question prompted your lips to twist into a scowl as a hysterical laugh bubbled past your lips.

“Really? You’re asking me why?” You huffed, shaking your head. “How ‘bout why not? I’m sick of it, Kol. All of it. The lies, the expectations - nothing is right in this town and I hate it! I’m seventeen! I should get to feel safe but I see people and they’re dropping like flies. And you’d think I’d at least get the luxury of being terrified, but no! I have to act like nothing is wrong!” You looked up at him, tears returning to sting your eyes. “I tried to. I really did. But it was too much and I couldn’t and I had to put it all somewhere. Now some idiot who thinks they’re funny just up and ruined my whole future. I’ll never get a job here now, not like it matters because mom and dad are shipping me off to some mental institution-”

“What?!” Kol cut your rambling off suddenly. Reeling back, he stared at you with wide eyes. You just shrugged. “Your parents are sending you away over this?” He demanded.

You raised a brow. “Kol, this is kind of a big thing.”

“How?!” He exclaimed. His grip on your hips tightened. He seemed agitated - more than you would expect. “You drew some creepy pictures. So what?! Who cares?!”

“A lot of people care,” You deadpanned. “I drew the likeness of people around me without their consent. That's a big no-no. My parents are worried I’m overstressed, narcissistic, and paranoid. They say I need help.”

“No, that’s not-” He cut himself off this time, teeth grinding. He wouldn’t look at you, just squeezed his eyes shut tight. You waited for him to gather his thoughts. 

“They can’t take you away from me.” 

Finally, he looked up. Smoldering black eyes met your own with a determination that couldn’t possibly have belonged to an eighteen year old boy. It was etherial - hard to capture and even harder to understand. His eyes seemed darker all of a sudden. An odd trick of the light. 

“That’s a nice sentiment,” You said quietly. “But unless you’ve got some hard-core magic up your sleeve, it’s not gonna change anything.”

Kol nodded stiffly. “Magic, eh?” His voice was dry - strained almost. He let go of you and took a step back, bracing his hands on the counter. The breaths he drew were long and deep - shaking. His eyes flicked back to yours, blazing with something needy. He cursed. 

“Screw it.”

The boy surged forward and his lips caught yours before you could even blink. His arms wound around you again and held you tight and close. One hand wove itself into your hair, tugging on the strands greedily. You couldn’t seem to focus enough to keep your eyes open, they fluttered closed as Kol pressed closer to you. You weren’t sure what to do or how to react, so you just tentatively kissed him back.

Kol flinched. Actually flinched, like he hadn’t expected his affection to be returned.

He pulled away, chest heaving with ragged, uneven breaths. 

Had you done the right thing? Would you regret this tomorrow? Would he?

“Kol, wha-”

His lips on yours shut your doubts up pretty quickly. 

“I’m so sorry about all of this,” That boy whispered into your mouth. “But it’s okay. You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m going to fix everything, darling. I promise.”

He left you no time to think. He just pressed you closer - as close as he possibly could and you felt warm. Warm and safe and wanted. His fervent kisses grew increasingly heated and desperate by the second. It was like you were in a haze, possessed almost. There was a sweetness and hunger to him that you were entirely unaccustomed to. Holding the back of your head with a gentle hand, Kol was tender and patient yet determined as he licked at the seam of your mouth. You gasped, flinching as you felt his arm around your waist constrict almost painfully. Seizing the opportunity, Kol swiftly deepened the kiss with a hum of satisfaction. He wasn’t harsh or forceful about it. You just weren’t sure. A tiny whimper escaped your throat but he just swallowed it eagerly. Did you really want this? Were you ready? 

You felt suffocated, trapped, and unable to breathe. You pulled back, trembling. But Kol wouldn’t let you go. He broke away, shaking his head.

“No, no. Darling, shhhhhh.” He combed your hair back with his fingers. It was comforting. “You’re alright. I’m not doing anything.”

“Kol, please-”

“No, you’re fine. Everything is going to be alright. Just trust me,” He promised. The boy smiled and settled his lips on yours again. You didn’t fight him. All you could seem to do was shudder as he captured your lower lip and bit down. On his shirt, your hands relaxed. It was almost as if he’d drugged you. Something about that was disturbing, yet you clenched your thighs around him nonetheless.

“See?” Kol flashed you a soft grin as he broke away this time, pressing a sweet kiss against the corner of your mouth. “You’re okay, love. This isn’t me hurting you.”

Then what was?

Kol’s hands slid beneath your shirt and they were so warm as he ran them over your waist and higher onto your ribcage. You had half a mind to let him do anything he wanted, but something wasn’t right. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks at terminal velocity. 

On the stovetop, the tea kettle screamed a warning.

Magic was your first clue. That and he’d said he’d fix things. 

What if he already had?

You stilled. All the warmth in his touch faded in an instant and you let go of him. You didn’t cry out or shove him back. You just quit moving.

Kol’s mouth slowed soon enough. He pulled his hands away and stepped back. The boy eyed you for a moment, but you wouldn’t look at him. Then he cursed. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know what happened.” Throwing his head back, he scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “I don’t even know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have pushed you. That was a disgusting thing to do. Please forgive me?”

You didn’t. You just drew your knees up to your chest, curling into a ball. The tears came back. Your ribcage shook with your pained breaths. 

“Y/N?” His voice was faint and far away. “Y/N, please look at me?”

You hardly heard the words that left his lips. You were too busy processing his greater sin.

The declaration came out as hardly a whisper. 

“It was you.”

Kol blinked. Then he frowned. 

“Darling… what are you talking about?”

You shook your head. Tears streamed down your face.

“Why?” You seethed. “Why would you do it?!”

He took a step back, seeming hurt. “Sweetheart… I’m sorry but you’re not making any sense.”

You weren’t going to play that game. Wordlessly, you hopped off the counter and strode over to the kitchen doorway. Kol had dropped his backpack there. You tore it open and rummaged around until you found it. A little book covered in black Sharpie. 

“How many high school students do you think know Nordic Runes?” You challenged softly.

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Probably quite a few. I suspect it’s a relatively common niche interest.”

You hummed. “Let me rephrase then: How many high school students in Mystic Falls do you think are fluent enough in runic languages to correct it when they see a mistranslation?” You whipped around, displaying your oh-so-precious stolen sketchbook in your hands.

The color drained from Kol’s face.

“Darling… I can explain that,” He tried, voice raw - desperate for you to believe him. You wouldn’t. 

You offered him a smile. That same fake, hateful smile you offered to all the people in this town who lied to you. 

“Leave.”

Kol looked as though he’d been shot. 

“Y/N, please. Just let me explain.”

You shook your head. 

“I won’t say it twice,” You spat. Then, switching off your hearing aids, you turned away and started for the stairs. “You know where the door is,” You called over your shoulder, half growling the words. “Don’t let it hit you on the way out… bastard.”

Upstairs in your room, you locked the door and cried. This time you didn’t make a sound.

***

Kol had screwed up. Royally. 

In fact, he was convinced that this was even worse than that time he’d accidentally played god on the continent now known as Australia. (Mammals shouldn’t lay eggs and none would if not for his hubris and an escaped lab rat. Or in this case, a lab platypus.) However, this time, Kol couldn’t just run away. Of course, there was mother dearest’s spell to consider but, that wasn’t the only thing keeping him from leaving that girl and her stupid precious tears behind. For whatever reason, he couldn’t stand what he’d done. He knew this for a fact because he’d had all night to think about it.

Her face, sparkling with fresh tears, was an image burned into his memory. Kol couldn’t seem to forget the tremble in her voice as she’d pulled that bloody sketchbook out of his bag. He could still hear her crying on the other side of her bedroom door. No matter how long he’d begged her to let him in, that door had remained locked. 

This wasn’t how things were meant to go - not when he’d been so close. He couldn’t stand it. 

She’d almost been his. Kol had finally held his sweet little artist in his arms and nothing, nothing - no drug nor blood-induced high he’d ever experienced - could ever compare to finally getting to touch her. He could have had more. He could have won his prize - could have kept her forever.

But he’d screwed up. Now, she loathed him.

He could stand losing a game every now and again. That was what kept things fun. But this wasn’t a game anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time. He couldn’t lose. Kol refused to lose.

Luckily, his delicious little artist was very, very human. 

He would go to her one more time, he resolved, to try to explain things. Truthfully, he knew there was no excuse for what he’d done, but that couldn’t change the facts. Kol needed her. He wouldn’t give her up just because he’d been dumb enough to let her snatch that sketchbook from his satchel. It wasn’t her fault. Had their roles been reversed, he wouldn’t forgive himself either. But luckily, his steel-spined artist was human. Luckily, Kol could erase his little mistake. 

Perhaps he could grab a quick bite from her too before he wiped her memory. A little taste might aid his patience for her - he didn’t fancy slipping up again like he had the night before. If he hurt her without realizing what he was doing, Kol knew he would kill his little artist far too soon.

He’d made his decision. The only thing that gave him pause was the wrinkled sheet of paper Bekah found that morning. 

“Kol?” Her voice rang through their brother’s mansion carrying confusion and worry. “I think you might want to see this…”

He’d been at her side in a split second, snatching the paper from her hands. It was a drawing, and Kol recognized its style of it instantly. Her lines were intimately familiar to him now, even as harsh and erratic as they were in the sketch he held. 

His beloved artist had finally drawn him. 

The twisted image was startlingly and horrifically accurate. Something clenched in his chest at the sight. She’d drawn his countenance pale, his hair was a wild mess and his eyes were black, empty holes. A vicious snarl warped his lips, accompanying razor-sharp fangs that looked all too real. In the picture, he knelt in the driving rain, cradling a limp corpse. His lips were coated in thick, crimson blood. Enamored as he was with his nightmarish likeness, Kol’s eyes were drawn to the most lifeless part of the image. He would have recognized those paint-stained clothes anywhere.

Now, Kol had added little notes to the drawings he’d stolen from his sweet artist’s sketchbook. This time, she had included her own. 

The harsh, hate-filled words read: “Vampire - a creature that feeds off the misery of others.”

At the bottom of the page, his artist had left him one more note.

“I hope you’re satisfied.”

Rebekah, peering over his shoulder now, whistled lowly. 

“That’s not Nik’s work,” She noted.

“No.” His voice came out sharp, clipped. “No, its not.”

“So who’d you piss off this time?”

Kol shrugged and tucked the drawing in his pocket. “No one important,” He lied. 

Shortly after that, he arrived beneath the trusses of Wickery Bridge. He knew where that girl would be - knew his artist couldn’t leave a piece unfinished. If she noticed him coming from a far ways off, she gave no inclination. Kol, however, noticed quite a few things. The tremor in her hands as she moved a can of paint back and forth in front of her. A used sleeping bag laid out among the rocks. A banana peel displaying the only proof she’d eaten any sort of meager breakfast. He noticed. He always noticed. 

His feet crunched on the gravel as he approached but he doubted the girl heard it - more than likely she had her hearing aids powered off. He could see the appeal in it. After all, it got quite loud in his head sometimes. Turning off the sounds of the world might be nice, but such was not his curse. 

Kol wound his arms around her waist from behind and leaned down. Her skin was so smooth and perfect, it was hard to resist simply biting down and taking her all to himself, but instead of piercing her throat he opted to kiss her a few times, gently. He knew how she would react by now. Y/N wouldn’t fight or squirm, she wouldn’t even scream. 

She just relaxed. 

Fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. 

A spitfire when angered, she could be quite impressive; however, when confronted she would always resort to that last option.

He could scent her fresh tears as they slipped down her face, while in his arms her body shuddered, though not quite the way he would prefer. Only one word could seem to manifest through her pain. 

"Why?" She didn't say it out loud, just signed it. Kol held her tighter, shrugging.

"Because I'm an attention whore," He answered simply. It was the truth too. "And I don't know when to stop."

He would always need that artist more than she needed him. From the first moment he'd met her, that was how their story had gone.

If it was even possible, that girl melted further into his embrace. Her head rested against his collarbone and she sighed.

"So you think I'm crazy too, huh?" She smiled and it was a miserable thing.

"I never thought you were crazy, love," He admitted, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I just didn't care for a while at first."

"What changed?" She wondered, brows furrowing.

"You smiled at me."

The girl barked a laugh. "Oh, well that's nice." She rolled her eyes.

Kol pulled her closer to him, as though he could make her feel the emotions he couldn't explain. "Don't believe me?"

"Nope." And she never minced words.

"It does sound rather cliche, doesn't it?"

"Ya think?" She scoffed. Her chest still shook with sobs she tried to suppress. He twisted her body around to pull her into a proper hug. Again, she didn't resist. She'd completely given up. 

Kol didn't like this hopeless, hysterical version of the strong, dagger-sharp artist he'd come to adore. He'd seen this sort of apathy before and typically it bored him. In her, it only seemed to hurt. It impressed him to hold her close until she finally understood that he was bloody sorry!

"Can you ever forgive me?" Kol found himself asking. Funny, he couldn't seem to remember another time he'd wondered such a thing. 

Y/N snorted humorlessly. 

"Maybe in a million years," She replied sourly. "Or maybe when the nut-house straightens me out - whichever comes last."

Those words stung like poison. It had been so, so long since he'd made a mistake he couldn't fix with a snap of his fingers. Accountability was a nasty, uncomfortable thing. 

A voice in the back of his mind reminded Kol that he could always compel his pretty little artist. But… he'd rather hoped her affection for him might be real. He didn't want to ruin that just yet.

Kol groaned quietly and tucked his face into the crook of her neck, fixing his lips over that girl's pulse again. The effect was somewhat calming despite making his fangs ache like nothing else. 

"I care about you, darling," He mumbled into her skin. 

"And I trusted you."

He understood. That girl didn't trust anyone. Now he was just another reason why.

A police siren flared to life in the distance, drawing closer. The artist in his arms chuckled dryly.

"Sounds like my ride's here," She observed, void of all life or emotion. The wheels of a police cruiser pulled to a stop not far off. She'd be caught in the act and Kol happened to know the police force had been set on vervain. 

"I won't let them take you," He swore, tightening his grip on his little artist. A car door slammed shut. Footsteps began approaching.

"And what are you gonna-"

Kol picked her up and ran. Consequences be damned. That girl was his. 

He stopped on the pretentious front porch of his brother's mansion and allowed her to absorb her new surroundings. She trembled in his arms, eyes round as saucers as she glanced around.

Her eyes met his and she shook her head, taking a step back. "Kol?" Her voice was thick with dread. "What… just-"

"You're okay," He assured her in lieu of an answer. He spoke calmingly, but she wouldn’t allow him to step any nearer. "You're safe now."

"No." Her voice was bold and firm. She held out a hand, increasing the space between them. “Tha-that wasn’t right. We-we-we were, uh… We were there… a-and now we’re here. What happened? Tell me. Tell me what you did!”

“Relax darling, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” He lied. The boy smiled disarmingly, voice a honeyed guise - it had worked before, back before she’d trusted him. “It’s just me.”

“No… No, y-you’re not-” She bit her lip and retreated further, blinking rapidly. 

He took another step closer, shushing her disoriented protests. “You’re alright, love. It’s. Just. Me.”

“NO!” The girl cried out with a tone forged from steel, but Kol watched as her resolve warped and cracked. He could see it rise to the surface - that all-consuming fear in his delectable little artist that he so relished and despised. “No… Kol, stop. Please.” Her sweet melody of a voice came out as a hoarse whisper now. “Y-you were my friend, and… I-I still want you, I do. But you need to stop. You’re not supposed to be like everyone else. Stop lying.”

Kol sighed heavily. His artist had been betrayed, time and time again. He couldn’t be like the rest of this godforsaken town - not if he wanted her. Yet… If he told her the truth - if he revealed himself to be everything that terrified her so - how would she possibly stand his presence?

“Do you truly wish to know?” He asked, unable to meet her gorgeous, all-too-perceptive eyes.

"I have to,” She whispered, almost to herself. “I’m not crazy. I-I didn't just imagine that!"

“You’re right.” He nodded and offered her a slight, halfhearted smirk. "You see too much for your own good, sweet thing. But please remember, you asked to be shown this part."

Kol thought about her - about his gorgeous, perfect artist. He inhaled deeply, taking in her mouth-watering scent. He focused on her heartbeat - wet and strong - let it lull him. He pictured that adorable, appetizing blush that always spread across her cheeks when he touched her. Kol allowed himself to imagine just how sweet, how lush, how devastatingly succulent that girl would taste just beneath her soft, warm human skin.

Then, welcoming that corrupt temptation, surrendering to it, he opened his eyes. 

His little artist screamed.

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @cute-freak27 @fayeatheart @archangelslollipop @aonungs-tsahik @sleepneverheardofher @heartbreakgrill @whatsupb18 @enchantedlandcoffee @trikigirl271 @dreamingwithrafe @her-violent-delights @witchcraftandgeekness @dreamingwithrafe @acixsracix Comment or DM me if you want to be added to my tag list!

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Agitation 3.1 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

Bank Job Arc LET'S GOOOOOO!

(I Think?)

There was something appealing about being out and about before the city had woken up. 

There are many things I'll never be able to relate to wrt Taylor, I'm sure, some already, but this

Yeah. this has to be on top of that list. Becoming a warlord villain of the city? Sure what the fuck I'm all for that.

Liking being out and about at an ungodly hour? Fuck that noise.

It was like Brockton Bay was a ghost town, in a good way.

Taylor? One question:

What The Fuck?

 In February, Sophia had goaded some boys into trying to catch me, I think the goal had been to duct tape me to a telephone pole. I had escaped, helped mostly by the fact that the boys hadn’t really cared enough to run after me,

Huh. So that actually happened. I figured the fic I read here they do catch her (and then she accidentally goes wild with the Swarm, etc) just had that written as Sophia doing an escalation she didn't do in canon.

Christ, that bitch is just... someone really needs to stab Sophia. A lot.

(Like, yes, I can grant it's... not great when the story has so few black people and one of them is Sophia and she's written like... that, but still. Sophia - fucked up and vile)

Three and a half months had burned away the body fat, leaving me very lean, and had given me the stamina to run at a steady jog without leaving me panting for breath.

Lucky bitch. Three and a half months of jogging wouldn't do that for me.

(Maybe if I actually committed to it like she has, but I'm lazy so :rofl: )

There were only a few people out and about, which made it easy to find Brian.

Wait, you were here looking for Brian? Maybe clue is in sooner, Taytay?

“I want,” I said, then I felt dumb for the awkward lapse into caveman speak.  I blamed the early hour of the day.  To try and save face, I added, “Thanks.”

:rofl:

 “Don’t coffees there cost, like, fifteen dollars a cup?” Brian chuckled a little, “We can afford it, Taylor.”

And? Still a waste of money I'm willing to bet.

Also, like whomst the fuck, in 2011, was selling $15 coffee to go? Is Wildbow mistaking US and Canadian Dollars? Even in canada that feels like a lot for coffee?

Did Leviathan make coffee more expensive or something?

These guys were raking in thousands of dollars on a given job, and they had given me two thousand dollars up front. 

Yeah but you don't stay rich by just casually dropping $15 on your morning coffee.

I extended my arm, clenched my fist and relaxed it to demonstrate, “Only hurts when I flex it.”  I didn’t tell him that it had been hurting badly enough to cost me some sleep last night.

Trying to seem tough in front of the guy you're into, or just used to pretending she doesn't hurt as much as she does? Or both?

“Makes sense,” I said, then I added, “I read her page on the wiki.” “So you’ve got the gist of it,”

An accurate wiki!? LE GASP!

I spotted a crab scuttling across the beach almost directly below us.  I reached out with my power and stopped it in its tracks.  Though I didn’t need to, I extended my finger and pointed at it, then waved my finger lazily as I made the crab follow where my my index finger was pointing.  Since Brian and I were both leaning over the railing, and there was practically nobody on the Boardwalk that wasn’t busy with work or getting their store opened for the day, I was pretty certain nobody else would figure out what I was doing. Brian saw the crab dancing in circles and figure eights and smiled.  Conspiratorially, he leaned closer to me and whispered, “You can control crabs, too?” I nodded, feeling just a bit of a thrill at how we were huddled like this, sharing secrets while the people around us were totally in the dark.  I told him, “I used to think I could control anything with an exoskeleton or shell.  But I can control earthworms too, among other things, and they don’t have shells.  I think all it takes is that they have to have very simple brains.”

But there have to be other animals that also have simple brains she can't control? Some birds and mammals can, no?

It's time to say it again: POWERS

ARE

BULLSHIT

(I suspect I'll be saying that a lot. :rofl:)

Of course, it could be her powers run on what she conceptually thinks are bugs or buglike? Like, if she could convince herself that squirrels are bugs, could she control them?

I shook my head, “I gotta get home and get ready for school.” “Ah, right,” Brian said, “I forget about stuff like that.” “You guys don’t go?” “I take courses online,” Brian said, “My folks think it’s so I can hold a job to pay for my apartment… which is kind of true.  Alec dropped out, Rachel never went, and Lisa already applied for and tested for her G.E.D.  Cheated using her power, but she has it.”

It is kind of remarkable that Taylor doesn't just... give up on school, from what I gather she keeps going sometimes even well into her Villain career. I doubt Winslow would really care enough to reach out to Taylor's dad if she just... stopped actually attending.

“Ah,” I said, my focus more or less dwelling on the idea that Brian had an apartment.  Not the fact that Grue the successful supervillain had an apartment – Lisa had mentioned that to me – but that Brian the teenager with parents and schoolwork to focus on did.  He kept changing my frame of reference for trying to figure him out.

Villains are human and complex!

“That’s to our place,” he told me, “And I mean that.  Ours as in yours too.  You’re free to come by any time, even if nobody is there.  Kick back and watch TV, eat our food, track mud on our floor, yell at the others for tracking mud on the floor, whatever.” “Thank you,” I said, surprising myself by actually meaning it.

Well fuck. Yeah.

Fuck.

All this poor girl wants is a place to belong. A place to be welcome.

I mean, not all she wants, really, I suppose, but a huge part.

That wasn’t to say I didn’t like Lisa, but just being around her made me feel like I had the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head.

Understandable.

Heading back home and preparing for school left me with a gradually increasing feeling of dread, like a weight sitting on my chest.  I’d been trying not to think of Emma’s taunting and my fleeing from the school with tears on my face.  I had spent an hour or two tossing and turning in bed, the event replaying over my head while the throbbing of my wrist jarred me awake every time I started to drift off.  Beyond that, I had been pretty successful in avoiding thinking about it.  Now that the prospect of going back was looming, though, it was impossible not to dwell on the subject as I headed home, got ready and caught the bus.

Taylor "Repress Repress Repress" Hebert!

I still had to face the consequences of missing two afternoons.

Do you?

This wasn’t the first time I’d needed to psych myself up to going to school.  Deceive myself into going and staying.  The worst days had been back in my first year at high school, when the wounds of Emma’s betrayal were still fresh and I wasn’t yet experienced enough to anticipate the variety of things they could come up with.  Back then, it had been terrifying, because I hadn’t yet known what to expect, didn’t know where, when or if they would draw the line. 

Ooof

Or, I thought, maybe I could just look forward to hanging out with Lisa, Alec and Brian.  Outside of the part where I nearly got mauled by Bitch’s dogs, it had been a nice night.

I mean, that's like saying "Apart from the part where she mindraped and then actually raped her sister, Amy Dallon does wonderful things in Worm"

Okay, not really, not even close, but still. That is a very big 'apart from' to just... set aside. :rofl:

 it had been a nice night.  Thai food, five of us lounging on two couches, watching an action movie on a huge entertainment system with surround sound.  I wasn’t forgetting what they were, but I rationalized that I had no reason to feel bad about spending time with them when we were – for all intents and purposes – just a group of teenagers hanging out.  Besides, it was for a good cause, if it meant they relaxed around me and maybe revealed secrets.  Right?

Capacity for self-rationalization, thy name is Taylor. :rofl:

Even though I knew, rationally, that I probably wasn’t on the list of their top five things to talk about and that they likely weren’t talking about me, I felt my heart sink.  

No, you probably are. I'm pretty sure you live rent free in both Taylor and Emma's heads and always will. A year and a half of targeting bullying, day in, day out.

Honestly, like, forget the immorality and awfulness of doing that, just... committing to that much bullying to one person that consistently - It just feels like it would be exhausting.

 One of the other girls noticed and chuckled, leaned closer to Sophia as Sophia whispered something in her ear, then they both laughed.  My cheeks flushed with humiliation.  

Like I said. Rent Free.

 For one and three-quarter school years, I had been putting up with this shit.  I’d been going against the current for a long time, and even though I was aware of the consequences I’d face if I kept missing school like this, it was so much easier to stop pushing so hard against the current and just step in the other direction. My hands jammed into my pockets, already feeling an ambivalent sort of relief, I caught the bus back to the docks.

Life advice from Skitter:

"Drop out of school, and become a supervillain kids!"

:rofl:

(But also, good on you Taylor. In this case, quitting school is the better choice. Fukitol and all that)

[rags-writes]

Fandom: Call of Duty

Paring: Konig x Reader

Tags/Warning: Rated M, mutual pining, brief mention of sexual content

Requested by @apollodarling-writes (for whatever reason it not letting tag your main page.)

A/N: So part of your request was that they are on the team but when I start this, I had a fever of like 102 point something so I forgot that part of it, sorry. I also can't think of a title for it at the moment, but hopefully, I'll think of one soon.

Summary: After a mission, you find yourself unable to sleep, so a quick trip to steal Ghost's tea should help you fall asleep unless you run into another masked giant who had been plaguing your mind.

Ao3 link.

Untitled (Konig x Reader)

You let out a frustrated groan as you toss again in your bed, struggling to fall asleep. Despite your exhaustion from the mission, not just a few hours prior. You hoped you’d passed out when your head hit the pillow, every cell in your body called out for sleep, and yet you glance at the clock. The red numbers stare back mockingly as another minute passes, then another. Your mind can't seem to stay still, jumping from one thought to another without processing the first.

 Slamming your fist against the mattress, you sit up and slide out of the bed. Deciding you were going to raid Ghost's tea stash for some chamomile tea. You're soundless as you move through the hall passing the doors of your fellow soldiers. You can hear soap snoring as you pass his room. Reaching the kitchen, the light already shining out into the hall, stepping in, you spy the man you plan to steal from.

 "What are you planning, Ece?" Ghost asks without turning around. You come up beside him and reach up into the cupboard, mockingly telling him.

 "Stealing tea from a brit."

 He just scoffs at you, and you bring down a mug, he passes the kettle he was using for his tea. As you fill your mug, Ghost grabs the tea bags and hands you one before asking. "What's got you up?"

 "Never went down." You reply as you place the tea bag in the mug and Ghost passes you a timer, but you don’t take it. instead, you dip the teabag in and out of your mug as the masked man glares at you then he calls out.

 "Not surprising the giant kept you up since his team is leaving in the morning."

 Your head snaps towards him, brow raises gasping out. "What are you talking about?"

 You see his eyes roll before he says. "König, the man you’ve been undressing with your eyes since day one of our joined mission, and Soap said he overheard you invited him to your room."

 You scoff at his accusation but deep inside you knew he was right; hell, it was the main reason you couldn’t fall asleep tonight. Wondering if you were doing something wrong or if simply you weren’t attractive to him. You’ve tried everything you could think of to get the tall, masked man's attention but nothing seems to work. everything seems to chase the man away, but you didn’t want Ghost to know, so you snippily tell him. "Sorry, I’m not like you, who stares at a certain Scotsman's ass."

 He just gives you a blank look and slowly raises his hand and flips you the bird. He lifts his mask to his nose and takes a drink of his tea. While he didn’t say anything, his body language does, and you shake under the interrogation before you break. "Simon, do you think I’m pretty?"

 Ghost’s head falls back as he sighs, he rolls his neck to face you and you hold back a giggle at how silly he looks with his mask bunched up on his nose. His dead eyes stare you down and tell you. "Yes, and he is interested too. I think you need to make the first move although."

 You try and fail not to look too excited by his statement, his lips quirking up at you, scoffing at the brit, you grab the sugar. Pouring an ungodly amount in the mug, seeing his lip twitch downward, smirking at him before telling Ghost. "By the way, your boyfriend was snoring, you should go and cuddle with him to make him stop."

 Ghost just takes a long sip of his mug before turning around and walking out of the kitchen but before he disappears, he calls out. "At least I got laid tonight."

 You flip him the bird again, but he is already gone, grabbing a spoon from a drawer and milk from the fridge. Stirring the tea as you add milk your mind wanders to the giant man who has been plaguing your mind all night.

 You thought you were subtle but direct with him earlier when you basically invited him to your room but maybe you were too subtle. Ghost wouldn't lie to you, and he does notice things fast than others unless it comes to himself of course. Still, maybe he was wrong, that itself could soothe the disappointment, maybe.

 You stop stirring and pick up the mug and take a sip, deeming it right. The milk cools it enough to be drinkable without burning your mouth and you make your way out of the kitchen. You walk down the hall, both hands on the mug, sipping the tea as exhaustion creeps back up on you. It explains why you didn't see the large shadow walking toward you.

***

 König tries his best to keep as still as possible but either his leg or hand would begin to twitch. His mind was a different matter altogether, as soon as he quieted it, your voice would hit him like a bullet, or he'll remember your hand on his thigh during a meeting. When the restless shaking of his leg would bug you but unlike others, you wouldn't just simply tell him to stop.

 Oh no, you would place your hand firmly on his legs, forcing him to stop, and then hand him something for his hand to fidget with. Sometimes it was a paper clip that would end up unrecognizable by the end of the meeting, other times it was a pencil or anything you could grab but the favorite you had given to him at the last meeting. It was a simple black three-piece magnetic ring. It sits on the table next to him and he resists the urge to grab it.

 He lay there in the dark unable to sleep with the memory of your voice in his ear. You invited him earlier to join you in your room, but Soap made a passing comment that you were joking. Jerking at the sound of knocking, he calls out. "Who is it."

 "Hey, it's Ghost, did I wake you?"

 "No, I’m awake, give me a sec." He calls out, he fumbles out of bed as he tries putting on his mask. His body crashes to the floor but he pops up and opens the door like nothing happened. the mask hides his blushing cheeks as he faces the shorter masked man. Tries to steady his voice as he asks. "What can I do for you?"

 Ghost doesn’t say anything for a moment and while König doesn’t know the man well, he recognizes the look of mischief in his eyes. which was strange for the usually stoic man but before König could ask his question again, Ghost breaks his silence. "Ece needs you, she's in the kitchen."

 Before König could say anything, Ghost leaves the giant man in his doorway. His mind doesn’t process the words, once he does, his mind starts racing as he hurries out the doorway. What does she need, is she okay? Did he do something to upset her? What if this is about him staring at her during meetings or whenever she is in the same room as him? Hopefully, she’ll accept his apology, and he'll get down on his knees if he must.

 He is so lost in his thought that he doesn’t see you until there’s a thud against his chest, a yelp, and something thuds onto the ground followed by a shattering sound. Blink into focus he looks down, eyes widening as they land on you sprawled out on the ground your drink covering you, and the mug that was containing the liquid lies broken around you.

 "Scheisse!" The curse leaves his mouth as he bends down to you. "Are you all right, Schatz?"

 "Yeah, just scared me more than anything, the tea was cool enough that it didn’t hurt." You answer as he helps you up, more like lifting you off the ground and placing you gently back on your feet.

 His eyes dip down to your soaked shirt, it clings to your skin making it nearly see though, he swallows audibly at the sight. Jerking his head up, he starts apologizing again, unsure if it is for bumping into you or for staring. It all stops when you place your hand on his chest, the heat of you seaming into his skin when it dawns on him. He not wearing a shirt.

 His face heats up under the veil and he steps back and for a moment he thinks he sees disappointment flash across your face. your hand almost chases after him but snaps back you hesitantly say. "I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

 "You make me? - I was uncomfortable- I mean- you make me uncomfortable-not! -." He Sutter out, his whole body being to tremble as a sigh leaves your lip. Taking a breath before repeating the answers. "You haven’t made me uncomfortable. I worry that I did that to you."

 A chuckle leaves your mouth, and the back of your hand comes to cover it for a moment, before saying. "Good, I’m glad and you never made me uncomfortable."

 König nods, a smile hidden under his veil, and he remembers the reason why he was here. "What did you need?"

 "Huh?"

  "Uh, Ghost said that you need me," he says, confusion swirling on both of your faces but then something dawns on your face. A surly smile slides on your face as you lean forward and his eyes dart back to your chest now more exposed. his mouth goes dry as you softly say. "Well, technically I need you early."

 König mouth goes dry as he sputters out. "You weren’t joking?"

 Your brow rises and you question him. "What made you think that?"

 "Uh," König starts as he realizes what that means. "Soap said..."

 "Damn MacTavish." You curse under your breath and König adds, hopefully.

 "Well, I can come now."

  Letting out a huff of laughter you pull the wet shirt away from your skin before saying. "Sorry sweet one I need to get cleaned up."

 "I can help you," König replies embarrassingly fast, he adds in the hope to save him from sounding needy. "It was my fault for bumping into you."

 You give him a smile and step forward his stutter in his chest, shiver crawls across his bare skin as your hand trails up his chest. you let out a little "hum" as blood starts to rush to his lower body leaving him light head. "As much as I would love that, you need your rest. you only have a few hours before you leave, you need to be well rested."

 The words falling on your lips hit him like a bucket of cold water, leaving him to gasp out. "What?"

 You step closer and he can feel your body heat and he fights the urge to grab you, your hands plant themselves agist his chest to steady yourself as you lean up. You are still so far from where his lips are hidden from view, and you whisper. "You are going to go back to your room and go straight to bed, okay?"

 His adam apple bobs as he swallows the spit that threatens to drool out as he nods at your orders. You give him a happy hum and one hand slides up to his shoulder, tug it down he follows without hesitation. Your lips brush his through the veil and he nearly falls as you whisper against him, "Good boy."

 He stumbles as you pull away and bend down to collect the broken piece of the mug. Once he steadies himself, he tries to help you but stops as your sharp word cut him. "I said straight to bed."

 He nods again and goes to turn away but pauses for a moment, asking in a small hopeful voice. "I will see you before I leave?"

 Your smile brightens your face as you stand up from picking the last bit of glass, but the look in your eyes heats him to nearly an uncomfortable level, as you say. "Yes, Sweet one, ill be there to see you off, now off to bed with you."

 That is what he does, as you call out after him. "You are to go to sleep, nothing else."

 He knows what you mean when you say that he also knows he doesn’t have to listen and when he gets to his room; he is tempted not to. His cock aches to be touched, to find relief like he’s always done after talking to you, but he wants to listen to you. To obey what you tell him to do, to make you proud. So, he lay his hand flat against the bed, emptying his mind of any thoughts and will cock down the best he can. It feels like an eternity before sleep takes him, but sleep does take him.

 He wakes up tired but grateful for the sleep, quickly getting up, changing clothes, and packing the rest into his bag. Throwing it over his shoulder, he walks out the door, and down the hall, he is soon greeted by you. He perks up all traces of exhaustion gone as you smile up at him. Holding up your hand, he notices something warped in tin foil in it. You tell him as you hand it over. "It’s my famous breakfast burrito. I usually make them for my team after a mission."

 "Thank you," he says, taking it and unwarping it, moving his veil just to get the burrito under. Taking a bite of it, he moans as the flavor hit his tongue. Mouth full, he tries to thank you, causing you to laugh as you reprimand him.

 "Don't talk with your mouth full and here." You hand him a slip of paper from one of your pockets. Look at it he sees a serial of number as you tell him. "Tell me when you get back to your base safely."

 "Yes, meine Konigin." He replies, taking a step forward to you but your arm stops him from going.

 "You don’t have a lot of time."

 His shoulder deflates, but you give him a sweet smile, a smile that promises next time they will make more time. Giving you a nod, he walks away to the plane. With one last glance behind him, he steps on the plane.

 You stay there and watch the plane take off until soap walks to shout. "Hey Ece, where's my burrito?"

 You turn and face him with a cold look telling him. "Oh, I gave it to König."

 "What? why?" He asks completely shocked but you just reply coldly.

 "You know what you did."

[alj4890]

OK, so I decided to send some Tobias writers a Jesse GIF and ask them to write a little fic based on it. Feel free to play along if you like (or delete - no pressure!)

Okay 😂 Anyone who knows me on here knows I can NEVER resist a picture/gif prompt. This one you sent me @jerzwriter is not only perfect but also has made me think of so many different fic ideas. From the fluffy sweet to the angsty, I think I'll go with one somewhere in the middle 😉 So while I'm stalled on my OH series and all the others 😬, this at least got the inspiration going again.

@jerzwriter @hopelessromantic1352 @choicesficwriterscreations @trappedinfanfiction @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @kyra75 @coffeeheartaddict2

Masterlist

What Might Have Been

"Hey? Do you hear that?"

Tobias opened his eyes. He blinked at the darkness while a feminine form curled against his side. Though the previous night was foggy from overindulging in both top shelf whiskey and then the actions he'd gotten up to with the woman in his arms, he knew without looking that the hair that tickled his chin was a deep, rich red in color.

Her soft curves nestled up against his body brought back flashes of heated kisses and clothes being thrown about his townhouse.

His mind then slowly registered the sound of someone knocking at his front door.

One quick look at the nightstand clock revealed that it was a little after four in the morning. He couldn't think of anyone who would come to his home at this hour, especially one who would persistently keep knocking.

"Wait here." He whispered.

Getting up, he slipped on a pair of pajama pants and softly padded down the stairs. Stumbling over his discarded shoes and shirt at the foot of the stairs, he peeked out the window to see just who was determined to wake him up at such an ungodly hour.

His heart dropped at the sight of the woman at his door.

Swallowing, he turned the door handle. Seeing her standing at his threshold caused the previous night's events to come flooding over him.

*****************

Donahue's, mere hours ago...

"Come on!" Chris playfully shoved Tobias. "One more round."

Tobias chuckled as he refilled both their glasses with whiskey.

"Alright Chris," he smiled at her, "but this is the last round. Some of us don't want to fight a massive hangover in the morning."

She snorted in her laughter. Her gray green eyes sparkled as she looked at him with mock impatience. He couldn't think of anyone more adorable than her when slightly tipsy.

"Maybe you'll get lucky." She teased. "I might say something I haven't done that you haven't either."

"Uh huh." He rolled his eyes. "Given my age and my history, that seems highly unlikely."

Tobias unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. After agreeing to play this Never Have I Ever game with her, he'd drunk more than he had in a very, very long time. He thought the game was asinine at best but he could never refuse a chance to spend time with Chris.

She'd claimed this would be a more fun way for them to get to know one another. He'd been satisfied with their typical nights of sharing stories and yet, he loved seeing her playful/never willing to lose side show up at random times.

"Never have I ever..." Chris began.

She tapped her fingers on the bar. Her lips puckered with eyes narrowed in thought. He snorted softly to see her trying so hard to think of something that he probably had done at some point in his life.

She huffed with irritation when she came up blank with something to trap him in.

"Give up?" He taunted.

"No!" She exclaimed, unable to stop smiling at him. "I'm merely stalled."

"Thank God." He pushed his drink away. "Now can we hang out like normal people?"

"For now." She took a long sip of her drink. "But I will find something to win this game."

He winked at her. "I have no doubt that you will, Chris. I've learned to never underestimate that mind of yours."

Chris beamed at him for that compliment.

He made himself tear his eyes off her face. It was getting harder and harder for him to simply be her coworker turned friend. His flirtatious nature was dying to use everything within him to win her heart.

Chris was an attraction he didn't want to keep fighting against. It'd been about two years now since he'd joined Edenbrook's, famed diagnostics team and that was two years too long of holding back his ever growing feelings for the tall red head.

He knew why he kept holding back. One glance over to the opposite side of the bar revealed the man who had been in the very situation Tobias found himself in. From the bits and pieces both Ethan and Chris had revealed in his time at Edenbrook, Tobias knew the danger of falling for someone you worked closely with on a daily basis.

Unlike Ethan though, Tobias wasn't hesitant to actually be with Chris because of work. His was a worry more so in losing what they already had between them. Given his track record with women, he knew Chris could never be a simple notch on the old belt.

She was something infinitely more.

Eyeing the glasses, he picked his up, took a large gulp, and decided there was no time like the present to say what needed to be said.

"Don't look now," Chris whispered, "but someone has their eye on you."

Tobias looked around until he made eye contact with a woman with long, red hair. Her gaze was fixated upon him and a sultry smile played about her lips.

Chris's smile dimmed once he refocused on her. "Go on. I understand."

"Nah. I'm good." He set his glass down.

"Come on." Chris's laughter lacked its earlier joy. "Even I know that woman's a sure thing."

"I'm not interested in her." He folded his arms on the bar, angling his body towards Chris. "And I thought of a Never Have I Ever."

"Not interested?!" Chris narrowed her eyes in concern then felt his forehead. "Hmm. No fever."

"Hah, hah." He nudged her glass towards her. "Are we playing or what, Valentine?"

Chris hesitated, glancing back at the woman he was turning down.

"Okay. Hit me with what you got."

Tobias picked up his glass. His eyes lowered to the amber liquid swirling around and around while he drummed up the courage.

"Never have I ever," he took a deep breath, "admitted to the woman sitting next to me how much I want her."

Chris's glass landed on the table with an audible thud.

"That's not..." she blinked back a sudden rush of tears, "...Tobias, that's not funny."

"It wasn't meant to be." He reached for her hand. "I'm serious, Chris. I've wanted to tell you for a while now, but given your on and off again history with Ethan, I thought the timing might not be right."

Her stunned silence encouraged him to continue.

"I'm tired of waiting for the right moment, so this is it. I want to be with you."

Chris bit down on her bottom lip. Her eyes searched his for the truth.

"You sure it isn't the whiskey making you think like this?" She prodded. "Because if you're looking for a one night stand, that woman who's been checking you out all night should be the one you use this line on, not me."

A couple of tears spilled out. She quickly dabbed them away with her fingertips.

"I'm tired of not knowing what men want from the beginning. And," she took a deep breath, "I want to be someone's only significant other for a change."

"That's what I want." He gripped her hand. "I want you and me to be together, as a couple."

Chris glanced over her shoulder at the man who had entangled her heart from the moment she met him.

"I need to go talk to Ethan."

Tobias felt his heart drop. He couldn't believe that this was the outcome of his confessing his feelings for Chris.

His fingers clinched around hers before slowly slipping away.

"Wait here." Chris told him, sliding off her barstool.

"Sure." He mumbled.

Tobias downed the rest of his drink, then finished off Chris's.

He watched Chris whisper to Ethan. The two of them headed outside to the back patio to talk. He refused to sit and wait on her returning to tell him she preferred Ethan over him. Why should he make himself even more miserable?

He pushed away from the bar and encountered the red head who'd been eyeing him all night.

"Hi." She cooed, smiling up at him.

His eyes drifted along her striking features. Though she was pale and had red hair like Chris, her eyes were a warm brown and she was a good deal shorter than the one who'd just broken his heart.

But...she was interested in him.

"I hope you weren't leaving without saying hello." She teased.

"No." He forced himself to smile at her. "I was instead going to see if you wanted to get out of here."

Looping her arm through his, she tugged him out the door.

*******************

Tobias's home...

"Chris." Tobias rubbed his hands over his eyes, hoping this wasn't real.

He'd been so certain he'd brought her home when he first woke up.

"You, Dr. Carrick, do not wait well." Chris teased as she brushed past him. "I'm sorry it took so long with Ethan. We had more to discuss than I thought when I told him about us."

She took her coat off and hung it up on her way to sit down on his couch.

"You told him what exactly?" Tobias glanced up the stairs at his open bedroom door and silently prayed the woman in his bed didn't come down to investigate.

"I thought it only fair to tell him we are now a couple." Chris explained. "I never was really certain what he considered me as, so I wasn't sure if our discussion would be more of a breakup or a rehash that Ethan and I never really got the timing right."

"Oh." Tobias sat down beside her. "Are you okay?"

"I am now." She snuggled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Once I realized you'd left, it took me forever to find a taxi."

"I..." his heart stopped when he heard the familiar creak of his fourth stair.

"Hey." The woman he'd brought home said timidly. "I uh, I think I should get out of here."

Chris whipped around, eyes wide, at the sight of the person who'd been at the bar.

The other red head gave a quick, apologetic wave then darted out his front door.

Tobias tried to keep Chris in his arms.

She shoved him away, scrambling to her feet.

"Chris!" He chased her into his entry hall. "I thought you were choosing Ethan! I didn't know--"

"Why in the hell would I tell you to wait on me if I was choosing him?!" She jerked her coat on. "I can't believe that I was stupid enough to actually have thought someone like you would want what I wanted."

"I do!" He shut his door when she wrenched it open. "Please, just--"

She pushed him away and ran out his door.

"CHRIS!" He yelled out, chasing her down the block. "PLEASE, DON'T--"

**************

"Tobias!"

He jerked awake, gasping for air as if he'd been drowning.

He reached over and flipped the lamp on, heart pounding in fear of the woman he'd see in bed with him.

"Hey," Chris wrapped her arms around him, softly kissing him. "It's okay."

He hugged her close, burying his head against her neck.

"No more thirty-six hour shifts for you." She teased, easing back some.

He gently cupped her face. His attention drifted from Chris to the platinum wedding band glistening in the lamp light that resided on his ring finger.

"Bad dream?" She caressed his cheek.

"The worst." He settled back against the pillows, pulling her within his arms.

"Want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Let's talk about something happy."

"Like what?" Chris laid down next to him.

"Tell me our story." He said softly.

"Our story?" Her lips curved as she snuggled closer. "Okay. How far back are we talking?"

"All the way." He slipped his arm around her to tuck her more against his side.

"Once upon a time," she began. "A young doctor--"

"Exceptionally beautiful doctor." He corrected.

"A young, exceptionally beautiful doctor decided to have breakfast at a cafe with a friend. She saw a man--"

"Devastatingly handsome man." Tobias corrected once more.

"I was talking about the man Aurora and I helped." She poked him in the ribs.

"The devastatingly handsome man approached you afterwards." He continued.

Chris propped herself up on his chest. "Am I telling this or not?"

Tobias began to smile over the memory. "I asked you out right then and there."

"You did." She conceded. "And since you were cute, I said, yes."

"I fell for you right then." He murmured, exhaustion begining to take its toll.

"I fell for you too." She pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "And so the couple dated. The devastatingly handsome man turned out to be a brilliant doctor who saved the exceptionally beautiful doctor's life."

"They married." He yawned, eyes closing as peace fell upon him once more.

"And lived happily ever after." Chris whispered.

Tobias's slow breaths allowed her a chance to relax once more beside him. Hugging him close, she fell into a deep sleep.

[never-not-ever]

First Week Outpatient

August 1st-7th

So I discharged around 1pm on that Thursday. For weeks prior I had been taking useless junk home so that on my day of discharge I wouldn’t be walking the hall with ten thousand bags drawing attention to me. I just wanted to leave quietly and not make a big deal about it.

I had to stop at my PACT teams office for my meds. I have a therapist, psychiatrist, case manager and a nurse on my team there. My nurse packs my meds for me in a weekly pill organizer. I’ve always told my IP doctor to not discharge me with a months supply of meds and it just so happened to work out that with PACT they offer the weekly medication pickup. So I went straight there and then headed home because I had a virtual appointment with my therapist at 4.

After that me and my Nana drove my nephew back home in NH cause he had been staying at my Nana’s. On the way back home I stopped to get groceries and was panicking so much in the store. I still remember what stoplight we were at when it became 8:00. Staring at the time I kept thinking I should be back at McLean, this is the latest time you have to return from a pass. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be outside right now. It’s too dark. That day felt like a pass. I remember freaking out in my kitchen that night, hyperventilating and trying to calm myself down saying “you’re going to be back on the campus tomorrow, less than 24 hours, it’s going to be okay, it's going to be okay”.

Anyways, Jesus, if I write so much nonsense these updates are going to be essays. Stick to the important stuff!! Okay so I started PHP the next day on Friday. I’ll add these in the tags but I’ll post a warning here too. There’s going to be talk of drinking and self harm and restricting. So partial was Friday and then Saturday night I got drunk and self harmed for the first time in over 6 weeks. I bought a 6 pack of White Claw and the whole 6 was just the right amount to get blissfully drunk and escape for a bit. Alcohol affects me differently after having weight loss surgery so I honestly don't know if 6 is the standard or way too much?

Monday I told my program psychiatrist and she wanted to look at my arm but I didn’t have extra bandaids so she told me to bring some the next day. I also met with my program therapist and we talked about starting a diary card and what to track. I told her how since I’ve been home I’m not hungry/eating and I’m not complaining. Saturday when I got drunk all I had that day was applesauce around lunchtime. So I mentioned the word “restricting” and tried to give the short version of my fucked up body image, losing (necessary) weight, losing it in a healthy way and also unhealthy ways at times, that I’ve never been diagnosed with an eating disorder but I know I have a fucked up relationship with food and my body….

So later that evening I got a phone call from disability. I should have applied back in September but instead I didn’t apply until April. They said it could take 6 months before I get a decision on my application. For months I kept checking online to see how much of my application had been looked at it. I needed money and felt like such a financial burden on my Nana. I had just borrowed money from her to pay my phone bill and an hour later disability called asking more questions that I’ve already answered in the past. She said she was the final person to review my application and that she’d be making a decision soon. If my application gets approved then I could be seeing a check within the next 4 weeks...

The following morning I checked my bank account and saw an ungodly amount of money, like two months worth of paychecks from my old job. I could actually pay my Nana back for all the money she’s given me while inpatient and afford to buy stuff to redo my apartment. And after seeing this money in my account I cried, not tears of joy but because I realized that even with this financial issue being lifted it still didn’t change how badly I wanted to end my life. Obviously money doesn’t buy happiness but like that money lifted a huge weight off my chest and it still didn’t matter. My passive SI, self harm urges and depression was shit when I discharged and it was just slowly getting worse.

So back to the timeline. So that "money thing" happened Tuesday morning. I brought bandaids to PHP and mind you I didn’t know what my arm looked like. I didn’t know if it was bad, I just slapped bandaids on it Saturday night and never looked at it again until that day when my doctor looked at it. It was so triggering seeing it. I'm going to get real descriptive here but I've never been able to cut over scars before. Maybe it's what I use but still I've basically run out of room on my go to arm. But drunk I was able to do it and deep. Two cuts, and obviously too much time had passed for me to get stitches but she still wanted me to go to Urgent Care after the program just to make sure it wasn’t infected. I felt like I was wasting their time. Going 3 days later just to get it re-bandaged… the nurse was so nice but the doctor seemed irritated. I think I spent almost 2 hours there, so pointless. They gave me a prescription for an ointment for my arm and they put in my chart that it “could have used stitches”. I never picked up the ointment.

Wednesday when I met with my psychiatrist she brought that up and said that if it happened again she wanted me to get seen right away.

11:19am Wed “I feel strange today. Maybe strange is the wrong word, disconnected? Empty, low, low energy. I can stare at the floor and get lost in my head.”

I started “seeing” my new therapist in the beginning of July but it was always virtual until that day. At 4 I had my first in person appointment and after the day being weird and shitty I was looking forward to it. But it was horrible.

So on the way home I went shopping. Dropped a couple hundred at Aerie and American Eagle and this was the start to my spending sprees. I FaceTimed with that friend I texted and it was a nice ending to the crappy day.

[delimeful]

bright as the morning sun

Day 2: Deaf

from @hiddendreamer67‘s prompt list! for @ironwoman359 who i heard had a rough day... im totally late, and this au isnt exactly fluff (yet) but its analogical so i hope you enjoy anyhow!

warnings: blood, being trapped, injury, fear

-

For the last few hours, Virgil had thought more than once that being stuck in a barbed net, drifting helplessly along the seafloor, and probably leaving a bloody sharkbait trail behind him was the worst possible situation.

When the net he’d been caught in began to lift, reeled in by a human vessel, he was swiftly forced to re-evaluate his judgement.

He hissed sharply as the wires cut further into his scales, the water flushing pink around him. He could barely move, and he’d figured out early on that any thrashing he attempted only resulted in him suffering more. It was probably just a cruel stroke of luck that had prevented any of his more delicate frill fins from being shredded. Even so, it would be painful to swim if he got out of this alive.

That was looking less and less likely, as the pulley system finally triumphed against his weight and dragged him into the open air. The light nearly blinded him, but he could make out fuzzy silhouettes on the ship’s deck, faced towards him. He’d heard horror stories about how humans would muzzle syrens as soon as they were caught, drive nails into their throats so they could never utter another sound again. 

The net swung to the side, over wood instead of water, and Virgil’s airways finally adjusted to the change in environment as he spun gently in the suspended net. Human forms surrounded him, making his heart race with panic, and he decided staying alive wouldn’t be worth being taken like some trophy. 

He opened his mouth and screamed.

Where exposure to a syren’s song was enough to entrance any human, a syren’s wail was enough to drive them to madness. All around him, they began to drop to the deck, clutching at their ears and joining Virgil with a chorus of pained screams. 

The moment stretched on, his lungs straining to maintain the noise. As his volume lowered slightly, he became aware of sharp footsteps behind him, and his voice upped a pitch. 

The footsteps didn’t stop or even falter like all the others. In fact, they came closer and then came to a precise, measured halt. A gloved hand gripped one side of the net, ignoring Virgil’s hiss and tugging it so he would spin around to face the stranger. 

“I would kindly request that you stop tormenting my crew,” the man said, cold blue eyes meeting his without any room for refusal. “We aren’t intending to hurt you, so please stop hurting them.” 

Virgil was so surprised that he did end up stopping, blinking in surprise that quickly turned to offense at the gall of the man. “I’m already plenty hurt, if you haven’t noticed,” he growled harshly, gesturing with a twitch of his head to the net. 

The man didn’t even flinch, tracking his every move with a severe gaze. “I’m assuming that you’re referring to the state we have found you in. Rest assured, that was not our doing. We arrested the trappers that set these, and we’ve been methodically retrieving and dismantling all of the illegal harvesting nets they placed. However, this has been the first we’ve encountered that actually had a syren in it.” 

Virgil bared his teeth, sinking back as the man stepped closer. He didn’t believe it for a second. 

“Captain, are you alright?” Another sailor appeared at their side, one hand rubbing absently at his ear. This one was dressed in less formal human clothing, with a rounder face and lenses. As he spoke, his hands moved in gestures Virgil didn’t understand. 

“Quite alright, Patton,” the captain confirmed, moving his hands in much the same way “And you?”   

“It was rough waters for a moment, I’ll admit!” he offered Virgil a cheery smile, as though the syren hadn’t just tried to make their brains leak out their ears. “Your cotton safeguard paid off, though!” 

Virgil watched in astonishment as the sailor pulled tufts of white fluffy material from his ears. It had muffled his scream’s effects? How had he known?

The captain frowned. “Patton, it’s not safe to remove those yet. The syren doesn’t sign, I am unsure if he believes we aren’t malicious.” 

Patton waved the concern off, even though his eyes were still a bit squinty with pain, and turned to address Virgil directly. “Hi there! I’m Patton, and this is our esteemed Captain Logan! We’re here to get you out of that net. Is that okay?” 

“If I say no, are you going to throw me back into the ocean?” Virgil asked, dryly. 

To his surprise, Patton gestured again for a few moments and then Logan was the one to respond. “It is our responsibility to destroy the atrocious and cruel mechanisms that our fellow humans have created. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with us until we can remove the net, and then you are, of course, free to go. We also have space below deck for you to heal and recover first, if you so desire.” 

Virgil stared at him, brow furrowed. He couldn’t trust humans, no matter how honest they seemed. But the man seemed to be the only exception to his voice, and so if he could figure out that factor, he’d be able to make an escape when they inevitably turned on him and kept him as a specimen. “Why weren’t you affected?” 

Again, Logan looked to Patton, and Virgil wondered if the esteemed captain was just too good to pay attention to him. 

“Ah,” he finally said with a wry smile, and then tapped his ear. “I’m afraid I am immune to the effects of your voice because I cannot hear it at all. I am completely deaf.”

Oh. Well, now Virgil felt stupid. 

“Sorry about that,” he signed stiltedly as he spoke, but Logan and Patton only stared at him blankly. 

“I don’t recognize those signs,” Logan said, an intrigued light in his eyes as he leaned forwards. “Are they used by deaf syrens? Perhaps we can exchange notes on nonverbal languages while you’re here.” 

“Oh boy, you’re in for a treat if Lo’s going to teach you our sign! He’s a great teacher,” Patton said and signed, and then elbowed his captain. “But that will have to wait until after our guest isn’t bleeding all over the deck, right Lo?”

Logan coughed, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Of course. Syren, with your go-ahead, we will lower you to the deck so we can get rid of those wires.” He pulled out a metal tool that seemed too dull to serve as a knife, and then revealed it had a pinching jaw like a squid. 

Virgil looked at both of them for a long moment, before nodding shallowly. “Fine. Okay. But I will bite you if you try to pull anything.” He bared his fangs again in example. 

Logan nodded seriously. “Of course. Thank you for trusting us with such a task.” 

As he turned to direct a crew member to lower the net, Virgil watched his expression soften slightly with relief, making him look much younger. 

Huh. Maybe he wasn’t so cold after all. 

[aetheternity]

That only happens in the movies~

A/N: Me: I'm just gonna write a small, quick headcanon post. Also me:

Synopsis: Just little things that 5wirl does with/for you based on romantic tropes in movies or tv.

Disclaimer: No pronouns used but Venti's part refers to reader as "maiden" once.

Kaedehara "kisses you in the rain" Kazuha

Kazuha didn't know and still doesn't really know how to approach the long standing feelings you give him. But you're starting to slip away, patience wearing thin and he's watching it play out, troubled with how to deal. At some point he doesn't know what comes over him but it's nearly two am Saturday morning when he hops on a bus heading straight for your house.

Yeah it's early and yeah it's pouring now, water soaking into his socks as he knocks on the door a little too hard. But you have to hear him, you need to come to the door. He watches the light flicker on inside finally pondering just what he might be able to say at such an ungodly hour. The thuds of your footsteps behind the door matching the pound of his heart. "Do you know-" You start but Kazuha's rain soaked face stops you.

His hair undone, strands clung to his forehead and cheek. "Kazu.." You say and then the realization that Kazuha was standing at your front door overtaken by sheets of rain flooding all around him made you blink in horror. "Oh my.. you're gonna catch-" But just as soon his lips were making you forget.. His cold wet nose gently sliding against yours.

His tongue slipping past your lips allowing you to taste what could only be described as purely Kazuha in every way you'd ever imagined. His arms finding purchase around your waist as yours fell onto his shoulders. He kissed the last of his own doubt away, you kissed him till all he could think about was you. You both stayed right there for who knows how long. Until you'd managed to find yourselves indoors huddled into each other's heat beneath the warmth of a blanket. Until you both knew for certain you belonged to each other.

Aether "and his attempt at cooking breakfast while you cuddle him like a koala"

He's got your body weight wrapped around him. Your ankles latched around his waist, breaths even against his nape as he works a spatula through a pan of eggs while simultaneously sifting around the fridge for some juice. He chuckles as the hold you have on his shoulders tightens trying desperately to continue the dream he'd forced you from when you'd both left the bed.

"Do you plan on joining me at some point?" He hums, shifting your body against him so you could hold on better.

He feels the scraps of your fingernails sifting over his bare shoulder blade and a grunt of protest slips from your throat. He doesn't need a glimpse of your face, he's already picturing the precious pout decorating those adorable cheeks of yours.

He meekly sighs, "I was going to cook some hash browns seeing as you love them so much but I don't feel like eating all by myself.."

Your head jerks up, you ignore the devilish grin on his face in favor of looking at the ingredients littering the counter. Sure enough everything he uses to make his famous homemade hash browns was already littering the space. "Mm so hungry." You moan He doesn't even begin to hide his laughter, cupping your head as you press it back into his shoulder, planting a quick kiss to your forehead.

"Get a couple more minutes of sleep in. I'll have it all done soon."

Venti "arriving at your door after a fight with a boombox above his head."

He wasn't quite as emotionally resonate as he could've been when last you two spoke. And when you'd told him you were going to head home he hadn't stopped you. Hours later and the grim beacon of hope you'd always possessed when it came to Venti never dulled. You sat so close by your phone, not letting it sit more than a couple inches away at your side the entire day.

You guys didn't fight that much so this spat couldn't possibly be worse than any other you'd shared with your partner of a year and six months. You already had the list of everything you wanted, no needed to apologize for. You just needed him to call you first. Just needed his voice to let you know that he no longer needed space and that it was completely safe to shower him with the affection you'd missed out on the whole day.

Your ears quirked at the sudden blast of your favorite song. Venti's song. The one you two hummed nearly every day since he'd introduced it to you. You stood from your seat on the couch, wrenching the window open to your boyfriend's cheeky smile. His black stereo poised high above his head as the drifting melody of the chorus grew louder with the closer exposure.

"Won't you come down fair maiden?!" He called high above the booming melody.

The laugh you let out was unrelenting and you raced out the door, down the stairs and into your boyfriend's arms. Kissing your way across his cheek and neck, over the shell of his ear and atop both pretty eyelids. His giggles so refreshing as he held you tight. So so tight, close so he could hear the whispers of your apology but he shrugged them off.

"Come, dance to our song with me, I've already forgiven you as I hope you'll do for me."

Shikanoin "shows up at your job toting gifts aplenty" Heizou

You didn't bother reminding your boyfriend about Valentine's day. You weren't that invested in the "holiday" as it was. But this year your disinterest was more in the form of prioritization or a need to read over the last of your notes for a work project you'd spent weeks obsessing over. Of course your darling Hei knew that because he listened to every one of your boring work stories now matter how dreadfully and painfully long.

But of course the mysterious glint in his eyes when you kissed him goodbye that day, let you know that regardless of your obvious apathy something you'd have to clean up was going to transpire today.

So it should've been no surprise to you when a chorus of giggling and gasping littered the halls outside your office door. The melody of women chattering away enthusiastically soon becoming hard to ignore. When the door to your office slid open a crowd of pink fur oozed its way in, limb by limb.

"Oh my archons!" You slapped both hands over your face, eyes nearly falling from their sockets.

"Give me a minute there's more!" He winked as he set the bear in the corner with a grunt.

A line of your co workers soon filed into your office with a large assortment of candies, flowers, smaller bears and finally a large basket of fruit filled with all of your favorites. A couple of your co workers slapped your back, some commenting about how jealous they were as your work space soon became nearly unrecognizable.

"Well? You like?" Heizou smiled gesturing with the bear he'd brought in's paw.

"I hate you so much!" You grunt, running into his arms immediately capturing his lips. "My boss, is gonna kill me!" You remark between each kiss. "We're not supposed to allow outsiders in our offices, especially not with all of this!"

Heizou let out a hum, "I needed to treat my favorite person in the whole wide world." He slid his arms tighter around your waist. "You've been working way too hard lately. He left a quick kiss in the crook of your neck, pulling away to massage your shoulders.

"Don't worry, I'll disappear before your boss comes back." He says with a wave of his hand, grabbing his jacket that he'd set down when he brought in the bear.

"Great, that solves one of my problems." You sigh, bowing your head but even so your smile is quite apparent.

"Can't wait to see what you got me.." He teases with an obvious wink.

You huff with a playful roll of your eyes shoving him out of your office as he chuckles. He turns in his stride with one final wink and an exhaustive amount of blown kisses as he heads for the exit.

Xiao "with his hand in your back pocket."

It's an enigma to anyone that knows of your relationship with Xiao. A blooming curiosity of sorts, how did you two even get together? Sometimes asked more politely than that. But even you'd questioned it on occasion when you kissed Xiao's cheek in private and he froze barely breathing. Or even just rubbing his knuckles to indicate wanting to hold his hand and getting a weird look in response.

Xiao would open up eventually, it'd only been three months you simply told yourself. But even so you still weren't quite sure how to properly approach him. You simply reminded him constantly that he was allowed to hold your hand or give you kisses whenever he desired it. And after so long it seemed as though your prayers had finally come into fruition.

Xiao had picked you up after classes as he always did and the two of you walked in almost complete silence to the ice cream truck always pulled up just outside of campus grounds at this time of day. Though as the two of you walked back towards Xiao's dorm you noticed his eyes lingering on your torso. That was new.. you had begun to assume Xiao didn't have sexual thoughts.

You opened your mouth to speak just as quickly shutting it when you saw Xiao attempt to speak in the same manner. Though disappointment soon struck when he clasped his mouth shut as well.

"Wh-what's wrong, Xiao?" You try awkwardly. He stops abruptly in his stride and in turn you do the same. The blossom of pink on his cheeks becoming less and less faint as he stared intently at your waist. "Xiao.."

He soon grunted catching you completely off guard. His eyes darted away shutting firmly almost as though your pocket had uttered something offensive. "Xiao.." You try once more reaching out to brush stray strands of his hair back from his face. "Please talk to me." You utter gently

He finds it in himself to look into your eyes then back down to your pocket. "That- movie we watched the other day.. The couple.. the man with his hand in her back pocket.." He points as though he hopes you'll piece the rest together in his stead. When you don't say a word in reply he sighs, "Do you.. wish we did that?"

And once the last of the puzzle pieces fall into line it dawns on you why Xiao was so attentive to a movie you'd been sure he wouldn't like. You have to stop yourself from snorting at the very clumsy way the two of you had approached such normal couples mannerisms.

"I'd love it, if you'd put your hand in my back pocket Xiao Xiao, thanks for asking first." Even with the encouragement Xiao was still hesitant until you graciously slipped his clenching hand into the back pocket of your jeans. "Kinda feels like it belongs there huh?" You tease a bit, a little too thrilled at the way Xiao's face flushed with red.

The two of you managed to stay that way until you reached Xiao's dorm. Straight through the hustle and bustle like the couple you'd always hoped you two could be.

[falconcoast]

I NEEDA SEE A TIGHNARI OR SCARAMOUCHE COLLEGE AU IM BEGGING like late night roommate talks

college au | tighnari x reader

masterlist

a/n: i started writing this literally during a round of debate. also, after said debate, i saw the finest debater in my district and swooned so bad i almost fainted. anyways take this and my limited knowledge of college. 

tags: omg they were roommates-to-lovers, sharing a bed, domestic fluff

warnings; brief alcohol mention (none consumed)

tighnari was your first friend in at sumeru university.

in one of your gen-ed writing classes, he happened to sit next to you, right in the middle of the lecture hall

after a few awkward “do you have a pencil i can borrow” and “i was sick do you have the notes” encounter, you formally interacted after being assigned in a group project

tighnari, you learn, is a major in biology with a concentration in plant sciences.

blunt and quick-witted, he is a no-nonsense busy body. after being labeled group leader, he was quick to assign roles and pore over his own work.

eventually, you exchanged phone numbers to study together. the study sessions together slowly became a habit, and at least once a week you meet with him

and from your study sessions bloomed a friendship. study sessions went from being in the library to in local cafes to in one another’s dorm rooms. soon enough, you and tighnari were as thick as thieves.

tighnari is nicer than he lets on, and he shows that he cares in less forward ways.  

sometimes, he drops by your dorm to reprimand you for not getting all three meals with a healthy dish. 

other times, he’ll call you at an ungodly hour, saying “you idiot, i can see your dorm light on, go to bed!” 

and at other times, he says nothing at all, simply highlighting where you’re wrong when doing your gen-ed math work. 

after freshman year, when he asks you to move into an apartment off-campus, you instantly say yes

tighnari proves to be a delightful roommate, and you balance one another out. if you make dinner, he’ll wash the dishes. if you’re going grocery shopping, he’ll do the budgeting and make a list of what you need. if you wake up before your alarm and make coffee, he’ll make both of your beds. 

after a while, you realize that tighnari is more than delightful to you; he’s lovable in a way that best friends shouldn’t think about one another. 

naturally, you do what anyone with a crush on their roommate would do: avoid the issue completely by distracting yourself. dinner together stops. your movie nights on friday are put to a halt. as soon as you get home, you go into your room and work.

tighnari’s well aware something is wrong when you get a single text that says: “hey, if something is wrong, talk to me, okay?” 

but as you look at the desk, you can only sigh and turn back to your work. archons, how you talk to tighnari when the problem was your childish crush on him?!

it’s three AM. 

you’re well aware it’s past your bedtime. in the morning, you’ll be cursing yourself for not getting more sleep. but right now, you could care less. spending less time from the apartment was an escape from having to worry about whether your crush on your roommate, your best friend, is obvious. 

as you shove the key into its hole, you let out a long sigh. after a long night out, your head feels delirious with a need for sleep. you spent most of the night at a house party, brooding about tighnari, in the corner. you felt terrible that you couldn’t truly enjoy your other friends and their company. 

opening the door, you took off your shoes before looking up. instead of the darkness of the hallway, you noticed that a faint, warm glow of light illuminating at the end of it. walking forward, you rubbed your eyes as you entered the common area. there, tighnari’s back was to you. he was curled up on the couch with the reading lamp on. the book was propped up on his knee, with pictures of flowers native to sumeru on it. 

his ears twitched lightly when you stopped in surprise. “i never took you as a party person,” he said aloud, not bothering to look around. “that’s the only reason you’re coming home so late, right?” 

“tighnari? what are you doing awake?” you questioned. “it’s late at night.” 

“i wanted to make sure to be up when you came home,” he explained, flipping another page. “i wanted to make sure you were safe.” 

a heat rushed to your cheeks. “that’s...that’s sweet, tighnari,” you murmured. straightening out, you cleared your throat. “you don’t need to stay up any longer. i’m home, and you can go to bed now.” 

with a quick fluttering of paper, the book shut tightly. “you pulled an all-nighter last night, and now you’re coming home at three in the morning. let’s get you to bed.” 

ushering you to your room, he sat you down promptly at the chair by your desk. as he went through your pajama drawer, he asked, “did you drink any alcohol?” 

“no, i didn’t.”

“good. i would have had to contact the university administration if you did,” he lightly chuckled. returning to you, he handed you a change of clothes. quickly, he turned around and placed his hands over his eyes. “please get changed. it would be uncomfortable to sleep in your formal wear.”

after you changed and tossed your dirty clothes in the hamper, he turned back around. tighnari escorted you to bed, sitting you down. as he began pulling the covers over you, he noticed you shiver. “you’re cold,” he observed. quickly, he pulled off his hoodie.

“oh, no, you don’t need to--” you tried to argue back in your sleep-addled state. he responded by shoving the hoodie over your head and getting your arms through the sleeves. it smelled just like him; fresh with light floral scents and fresh herbs.

afterwards, he pulled the blankets over your body. he tucked an extra pillow under your head. after deeming you comfortable enough, he turned around and flicked the light off. as his hand was on the doorknob, you called out to him. “thank you, tighnari,” you whispered, voice barely audible. 

he turned around, light green highlights in his hair turning harlequin with the light from outside the room. a smile crossed his face, shaking his head. “it was nothing. you’re welcome. y/n,” he said. “in the morning, i’ll order brunch for us. you want extra syrup for your pancakes, right?”

“yes, please,” you nodded. after a beat, you shifted slightly. quietly, you asked your roommate, “um, could you come over here really quick?” 

he obeyed, standing by your bedside. you paused, trying to rationalize what you were about to do. if it all went wrong, you could blame everything on your sleepiness. deciding you had nothing to lose, you looked up to his emerald green eyes. 

“do you mind sleeping next to me tonight?” you requested. “it’s just because...well, these last few weeks--” 

he cut you off, simply nodding. “of course i can. i noticed that something was up with you these last few weeks. you don’t have to say anything more.”

sidling next to you, he tucked himself under your covers. he curled up, legs close to his chest. his warmth radiated next to you, as he was only an inch away from your face. “good night, y/n,” he murmured, eyes already closed. “i hope you sleep well.”

you returned the sentiment after a moment, letting out a little breath. “good night. sleep well.”

silence occupied the air as the two of you laid in bed. you wondered why tighnari was so willing to get in bed with you. you almost entertained the thought that he might like you back, but you shook away the thought. after all, there was no use to building false hope. there was no harm in not letting tighnari not know about your little crush. 

still, you knew you would have to tell him eventually, whether it be next week or next year. looking over at him, his eyes were shut peacefully, and his chest rose and fell in even intervals. you decided that there was no harm in practicing confessing your love to him. 

“tighnari?” you murmured. he didn’t react, continuing to sleep steadily. swallowing, you spoke up a little louder. “thank you. i love you.” 

as you shut your eyes, you failed to notice his blush, or the smile on his face, or the way his ears twitched in delight. 

[bagel-bombs23]

sleepyhead <3 tommy x reader

hey! i know ive been like dead for a while but i lowkey got broken up with but also not so life has been pretty not amazing!

anyways, this is a little fluffy ramble i was using to comfort myself and i thought i should write it out so maybe all of you could enjoy it too!

SFW!!! IRL!tommy x GN!reader

during the meetup of all the smp members, they rented an airbnb to stay at and you find yourself unable to sleep and having nightmares when you do, so you go sit in the livingroom with the boy youve been desperately crushing on, alone for the first time the entire day…

you stood in the hallway outside of the livingroom, mentally kicking yourself for committing to this insane idea. you had woken up about fifteen minutes ago from one of the nightmares. youve been hoping and praying all day you wouldnt have any issues, but predictably you are shaken awake at 2:45 am.

all of your life youve never been able to sleep soundly away from home. something about the unfamiliar environment or the distance from your safety space cursed you with the ultimate sleepover-repellant. like clockwork you burst out of sleep, gasping for air and balling the sheets in your fists. the images of your nightmare were burning into your vision in the darkness of the room you stayed in, as you desperately caught your breath. your hand shot to your bedside table to turn on the lamp, smashing the button. the light flooded the room abruptly and burned your eyes, effectively singeing away the images of your night terror.

you slowly but surely caught your breath, panting and prying your mind from the events of your dream, choosing to focus on your only nearby object of comfort. tommy. it was something youve thought of late into the night many a time following a night terror, climbing into his arms and feeling his breath on top of your head. the images more vivid with your proximity to the boy. now you thought of how before, miles away from him, you couldn’t justify something like a text or a call in the heinous hours of the morning, it was ridiculous. but now, all you would have to justify was the twenty steps it would take you to enter the living room, where he chose to stay for the night to offer toby a bed.

you sat in silence, mentally warring with the part of you that pulled you towards him like a magnet, begging your legs to make the distance shorten between the two of you. you two were very close, but platonically to your dismay. you’d never imagined in a million years you would dare to do what sleep deprivation and irrational fear has driven you to do. the fifteen minutes you spent making the decision were possibly the most stressful of your life, to risk a comfortable platonic meet up over a far-fetched fantasy your troubled mind used to cope was so far out of line that you felt you may not be in the right of mind. your internal bickering was all for show though, because deep down you knew it was never an attempt to change your mind, only an attempt to justify what you knew you would end up doing.

you climbed out of bed and into the hallway, making your journey through the hardwood floored hallway of the unfamiliar home to the room you knew youd find him in. your mind span, questioning the veracity of your decision as you remembered he is a sensible person who is probably sleeping at this ungodly hour. you mentally kicked yourself for not thinking that through, but couldnt bring yourself to stop walking, couldnt bear to stop your legs from carrying you towards him. if hes asleep ill just go back to my room, you said mentally, if hes asleep ill just grab some water and go to bed, you rationalized.

you padded into the entrance to the living room, and felt your heart mellow for the first time since you had woken up. you looked at tommy, fully awake on the couch watching a movie. he was the only trace of life in the house besides yourself, the light of the tv flooding his face and parts of the room. you looked to the tv and recognized it to not be a movie, and instead an old stream with you, him, toby, and ranboo.

you admired the way he watched intently, the way the colors of the tv bled into his face and illuminated his eyes. you were wrapped in a thin knit blanket from the room and the ac was currently right above you. you felt a shiver start in the bottom of your spine so you took a step forward, into Tommy’s line of sight. immidiately upon seeing you he reached to the table infront of him and turned down the tv, with a face of concern.

“hey y/n, whats up?” he says with his eyebrows knitted together, and it crosses your mind that you may look a bit disheveled from your night terror. you look at him and shrug, “i dont know, couldnt sleep. care for company?” you asked softy with a small smile. without missing a beat he nodded, still slightly concerned, and said “of course, come sit”

you padded into the room and to the couch where tommy sat, plopping onto the cushion next to him, and looking at the tv. “hey, this is last months vod isnt it? the one where we fed tubbo to the piglins as a sacrifice?” you said with a smile, and turned to him for a response. you found him smiling at you, and he said “yeah, i was just rewatching some of my favorite streams, im thinking of making a compilation of stream clips for each member at the meetup for the reveal video” with a smile. you laughed a little and leaned your head into the couch, feeling the soft and fuzzy aura in the air.

tommys eyebrows knitted together again, and he spoke softly, as if not to scare you away. “may i ask why youre up so late? did something happen?”. you have to take a second to ponder how to answer and and allow yourself to calm internally at the honey that drips from his tone. after a second of consideration, you reply “why are YOU up this late watching vods? you have time to think about this tommorow” with a smirk. his expression softens into a playful smile, and he seems to slightly redden at the apple of his cheeks. you convince yourself its the light from the tv. he retorts “i asked you first, sleepyhead” with a genuine smile, effectively opening you up like a book.

you roll to face towards the tv, as if to ponder the pixelated you on the other side of the screen until you can think of an answer that doesnt sound insane. you decide its too late for pondering, and dont break eye contact as you quietly tell him the truth. “i, i have this thing, where like, if im anywhere but home i cant sleep. i have these awful nightmares anytime i sleep over somewhere im new to. its kinda childish i know, but once i wake up i cant sleep for hours. i figured i would check if you were awake, see if it would help to not be alone”. at the end of your sentence you turned to look at him, finding his features contorted to sadness, almost pity. he lightly scooted towards you and quizically asked “did you have a nightmare tonight?”

you pulled your lower lip between your teeth and looked down at the cushions, considering the stitching of the fabric. “yeah, its whatever” you said, barely above a whisper. a moment passes where he doesnt speak and you dont look up from the couch, embarassment burning in your eyes and your cheeks at the confession. after a few seconds he places his hand into view and draws your attention back to his face, where a softer look of concern coupled with a welcoming smile meet your eyes. he looks into your eyes and tilts his head, and asks “why have you never told me about this? you know you can tell me anything idiot”.

you chuckle under your breath and smile, it strikes you that he never actually answered your question. he too was up far later than sensible doing something he had time for later. you gave him a mischievous look and shot back with “i think its my turn to ask questions, why are you up so late doing work when you should be getting ready for tomorrows plans?”. now it was his turn to divert his eyes to the tv, and for a moment you could make out the reflection of the block world in his eyes, before the vod changed the color of the room and he was washed out in red from the tv’s picturing of the nether. his smile was small, as he said “today was a lot to mentally process, im still so excited from it all. i cant bear to sleep when i know where i am and who im with-“. he cuts himself off for a moment and his eyes widen slightly, something so small you almost didnt notice. but you did, of course you did.

“everyone, i mean, like the whole group is all around me and stuff” he says hurriedly, looking back at you and making a wide motion with his hands. you smile hard, mind praying that his restlessness was the thought of you in his mind. you felt embarassed for how excited you were, knowing that realistically he was just riding the high from such an eventful day, but the way that his smile changed to match yours quickly cemented your hope. you felt the energy in the air multiply as he breathily laughed, looking down and quietly confessing, “i dont know why i tried to lie there, it failed hard,” you giggled with him, laying your head against the couch. “its pretty obvious i meant you i suppose” he said, making your heart shout and the smile on your face widen to the point of discomfort.

your eyes widened at what he said, and he looked up at you and continued, “ its so cool to see you in person again. its been so long, like six months, and its always super fun to hang out with you and everyone else.” he smiled sheepishly, nervously, and awaited a reply from you. all you could do was chuckle happily and look at him, conjuring every braincell to glue together a coherent thought to give tommy. eventually you settled on a reply and said “i was hoping you would be awake, i knew it was the only thing that could calm me down enough from the nightmares, its the only thing that ever does”. it feels like a confession, rushed and messy and painted red with emotion as your heart pounded in its bone prison. your smile never faltered though, and his widened as well, his breath visibly becoming a little heavier.

he breaks eye contact to turn away and run a hand through his hair, smile remaining plastered on his face as he quietly laughed to himself. he exasperatedly let out an “i’m really glad you said that, that you feel that way, i feel a lot less stupid now.” he turns back to you, the air is vibrating with the energy and you feel high, like tommy has been scripted to say it, like youre still not awake, like its too perfect to be right. you take no time to think before the words flow out of you as if perfectly rehearsed.

“tommy, i feel a lot of ways about you. i feel so much that sometimes i think im crazy because of it. being around you is so fun and i always find myself wanting to talk to you when we aren’t already. youre like the sun, youre such a light to me and im drawn to you and your energy like a magnet, i think youre absolutely amazing tommy”. and for a moment, the world stops. tommy’s face is thrown to shock for a long few seconds. your head is buzzing with your on the fly confession and you feel the cadence of your heart coincide with the rhythm of tommy’s small breaths, before he breaks out into a smile. his laughter reaches your ears and relief nearly sweeps you away like the tides.

“y/n, ive never been so happy to hear something in my life i reckon, i feel like a god right now”, he laughs breathily before continuing, “ i feel that way too, i want to make you happy all the time, i always want you to be the first to laugh at my jokes, i stay up watching stupid vods because i miss you even though youre four doors down from me. i feel exactly the same”. you feel the gravity of the earth fade from your shoulders, and suddenly its as if his gaze on you was the only thing holding you to the earth.

tommy laughs and reaches out for your hand, smile never dropping as he says, “i cant explain to you how happy i am right now, but i think we should wait till morning when we arent sleep deprived to do this. i dont want your decisions or your words to be driven by sleep deprivation. we should go to sleep”. his statement, while sensible, sounded like the most ridiculous notion when his hand held yours, making fireworks explode in every nerve in your body. a part of you knew that you were extremely tired though, and that part of you ended up winning.

“youre probably right,” you said with a softer smile, before adding on, “but i have one small request”. his eyebrows raised in curiosity and he smiled at you in a familiar playful way. “okay, what would your request be?” he said quizzically, never having been able to anticipate what your ask was. you looked down at your hands kind of sheepishly, and whispered out, “can i sleep here? with you? just so i dont have another nightmare again?”

his eyes widened once more, and he blinked rapidly as his brain processed your request until he smiled and noddee rapidly, stuttering out an “of course! do you wanna come lay over here? you seem pretty cold and my blanket is much heavier than yours”. you smiled and nodded before quietly crawling over to where he had laid down and raised the blanket for you to climb under. you carefully navigated your way against his chest and breathed in his smell as you settled in with your head tucked beneath his chin and his arm draped over you. it felt like you had died and gone to heaven.

you heard his rapid heart beat slow down after about a minute, and you smiled into him. you felt the grip of sleep, washing you away as you whisperer a quiet “goodnight tom” into the sleeping boys chest. to your surprise, in response you received a quiet “goodnight y/n”. you both melted almost instantly into sleep with the newfound comfort. you slept through the night and into the morning peacefully, for the first time in a while.

“SHHH guys youre gonna wake them up” sapnap whisper shouted to ranboo and tubbo, who were now in the livingroom snapping picture after picture of you and tommy, holding onto eachother, legs tangled together sleeping soundly. tubbo turned to ranboo and whispered “since we cant tell who confessed to who at the moment you dont owe me 50 dollars yet, but when we find out it was tommy i expect my payment.” a bewildered ranboo whisper shouted at tubbo “oh come ON! you know y/n was the one to do it, theyre the only one with the balls to say anything. you better enjoy that 50 while you have it bitch”. george entered the room on his way to the kitchen and groggily looked over at the scene, yawning out a “what on earth are you all doing- OH MY GOD WHAT?” effectively waking both you and tommy up, and ranboo and tubbo shout back to george “WHAT THE FUCK YOU RUINED THE MOMENT??”

what a lovely way to wake up.

-end!-

a/n!

hey lovelies! just a little reminder that my asks are open but i may take a while to get around to writing everything, for now i hope you loved this story as much as i loved imagining it haha! ive been in a very fluff mood so any fluff req’s will def be done sooner than smut! and another reminder, it is against tommy’s boundaries to write smut of him so i will not be doing that. anyways, its 1:06 am so im going to sleep! goodnight and i hope you liked! follows are deeply appreciated as well as likes and reposts! love u <3

[always-andromeda]

Happy 500 to youuuu!!! You deserve each and every one of them and more! Can’t wait for 1k, 2k, 5k…. 10k…. HEHEEEE IT WILL HAPPEN I KNOW THAT FOR A FACT!! You write the BEST fics, nsfw alphabets, headcanons and drabbles on this whole site and I love reading (and re-reading) every piece you put out! Cheers! :D <3<3

Can I request Hurricane (Johnnie's Theme) for Klitzy?? Maybe it’s extra angsty because of his self-esteem issues making him think he’s not worthy of you </3

Author's Note | thank you dearly, anon! I am overwhelmed at your kind words and I do hope that my work continues to impress!! thank you for the request (I hope you're okay with me making it equal parts angsty and a little bit...freaky).

Warnings | mentions of masturbation, nothing else I can think of!

Timothy Klitz spends an ungodly amount of time getting ready in the morning. Analyzing every part of himself in his bathroom mirror, he specifically avoids the sight of his bare chest. That pale, lanky expanse that really makes him cringe.

Today he's finally going to talk to you. And, for once, he's not going to overthink it.

It’s ridiculous being this worked up over a single, measly little person. But somehow, he managed to do it. That’s why his bathroom routine has extended from a leisurely ten minutes to a grueling hour. That’s why he made his mom splurge on soap this time around, opting for a musky cedar wood scent that he figured would drive you wild. He doesn’t actually know what you would like.

So of course he has to resign to Eli’s advice on girls.

Eli tells him that he’s got the face of a God; “You could do porn with that face, if you wanted.” Eli had once reasoned with him.

That sounds like the joke of the century. He's nothing special. And a girl hasn't complimented him on his looks since he was in the second grade. And even then, that was from his mom when she dressed him up for his elementary school's Christmas choir performance. He can still hear her coo, "Oh, you look so handsome, Timothy!"He hopes that if you ever call him that, it's in a more mature tone. Not like he's a baby.

But if he can't just suck it up and actually talk to you, he's never going to hear that.

All he knows is that he has to stop living his life through the Sims. That is another matter entirely.

Yes, he may have possibly made you into a Sim. And yes, he possibly also made himself a Sim. And sure, he pulled the strings to make the pixel people fall in love with each other and eventually move in together.

At least he doesn’t…he doesn’t…oh, fuck it. He can’t even pretend that he doesn’t like to watch them woohoo with each other.

He wants to feel ashamed of himself when he jerks off as if he was watching actual porn. But he isn’t. Weirdly, it feels like he’s cum harder just from fantasizing about what might go on underneath that silly sheet than from actual porn. Something about those happy little Simlish babbles he hears as little you and little him mess around under the covers in the digital realm gets him going.

If you were his, he’d make you make those sounds all the time. Now that’s something Eli would truly laugh at him about. Klitz might not be ugly. But he sure as hell is pathetic, gross, and a coward.

He’s an absolute wreck as he walks past you in school, hands shoved in his pockets, shirt untucked (because only nerds tuck in their shirts, reasoned Eli), and hair combed perfectly. 

And you looked at him first. Almost by accident really. But the second you caught his nervous little glance your way from behind those oval lenses, you couldn’t get over him. He was just...pretty. Almost bug eyed and innocent even though they only lingered for a few seconds.

You'd seen him around a little bit; vaguely remembering that he hung out with the teacher's pet and that one weird kid who's obsessed with porn. But he stands out from them, not only in height but in his quiet demeanor and little, side sweeping glances. Yeah, you decide, he's very pretty.

“Looking good today, Klitzy!” You call as he passes by.

And Klitz has to clench his hands in his pockets and stifle a barbaric yawp when he replies, “Oh, thanks. You too!”

But that doesn’t stop the smile that oozes onto his expression, growing so wide that he swears he feels his entire face caving in from how much his cheeks ache.

He’s never said a word to you before now. And yet you knew his name.

[babyboibucky]

White Noise

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky has a new neighbor and she's even grumpier than him.

Word Count: 2,490

Warnings: TW!!! Domestic violence (not from Bucky, he’s a sweetheart in this 🥺)

A/N: I’d say I’m on a roll for writing new shit lately but I’ve got two ongoing series and a part 2 of a oneshot that I haven’t even updated for quite a while lmfao

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky blinked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling before forcing them close again. He focused on the hard floor beneath him and the soft blanket tangled in between his limbs. His television was left open but with the volume at the lowest level. Bucky always slept this way, so that the white noise would help him ground himself whenever he would wake up from his nightmares.

A few minutes later, Bucky finally felt himself begin to doze off. A couple hours of uninterrupted sleep were good enough for him, at least he'd get some peace before his past would come back to haunt him.

Just as when Bucky was about to fall into a deep slumber, loud music began to boom through his walls, stirring him awake. He grunted as he sat up on the floor, turning around and staring at the wall separating his apartment from his neighbor. He didn't even know he had one until now. The music was loud, too loud that it wasn't even white noise anymore. It was just...noise. And as much as Bucky hated how silence triggered his self-destructive thoughts, this kind of noise wasn't something that he needed.

Bucky let a few more minutes pass just to see whether his neighbor would turn it down but then a new song started playing right after the first.

Grabbing his shirt, jacket and some sweatpants, Bucky quickly dressed up and headed out the door. He stood in front of his neighbor's door and could actually understand the lyrics of the song playing. It wasn't his enhanced hearing, the music was just that loud. His neighbor didn't even hear him knocking until he decided to use his vibranium arm to do so. Bucky had to hold back a bit in order not to break down the door at how hard he knocked on the door.

Mid-way through his knocking, the door finally opened and out his neighbor stepped-- you. Bucky frowned when you didn't even bother turning off your music when you opened the door.

"How can I help you?" you asked, your expression matching Bucky's.

Bucky scoffed, "I don't know, maybe turn down your music? It's like fuckin' two in the morning. You're not the only tenant in this building." he snapped.

"I can't sleep without music. And no one else has been complaining, just you." you said and was about to close the door right into Bucky's face.

Bucky was appalled at your rudeness and slotted his foot into your doorway before you could even slam the door shut.

"I just complained and you're not really going to do anything?" he asked.

"No. If other tenants can sleep through my music then so can you. Stop bitching around and leave me be." you huffed out and kicked his foot before closing the door with a loud thud.

Bucky blinked, unable to believe that you just did that. You actually kicked his foot and ignored his complaint. He knew that he was a bit harsh when asking you to turn down your music, but it was two in the morning! Why would you even blast music at such an ungodly hour? Bucky rubbed his face with his hand and headed back to his apartment.

He'll deal with you tomorrow. It wasn't like he was going to sleep through the entire night anyway.

-

And deal with you, Bucky did but it always ended the same. Bucky was surprised at how aggressive you were whenever he paid you a visit to complain. The first night he kind of understood your behavior, he wasn't the nicest then. But every single encounter he had with you after that, you were just borderline mean.

Bucky just arrived from having lunch out when he saw you unloading your car with a few more boxes. Over the past few days, he had learned that you were indeed new and just moved in a week ago. He also learned that the rest of tenants on his floor either slept like a fucking rock or had impaired hearing for them not to care about your music.

You struggled to carry all three boxes when you stacked them above each other. Bucky chuckled in amusement as he watched you attempt to carry them all twice. Obviously, you didn't want to do multiple trips but with the strength (or lack thereof) you were displaying, it would be an impossible task. Being the gentleman he was, Bucky decided to set aside his feud with you to offer his help.

"Let me help." he said as he approached you.

Your eyes softened up at him for a brief moment and Bucky thought that maybe you'd be kinder to him this time. Boy was he wrong because you immediately shot his offer down and ignored his presence.

"Look, I'm trying to be nice here. Just let me help so you wouldn't have to do multiple trips." he explained.

"I don't need anyone's help. How hard is that to understand?" you snapped and carried one box, brushing past Bucky to enter the building.

Bucky rolled his eyes and quickly grabbed your arm to stop you. He's had enough of your attitude and if you weren't going to even try to be nice to him, then he'd stop being the gentleman that he was.

"Why do you have to be such a little bitch?" For the first time, Bucky raised his voice at you.

He just wanted to confront you, not scare you so when you gasped out loud and dropped the box in your arms, Bucky's heart fell. Your eyes widened at him in fear, your hand quickly wrapping around the arm that Bucky grabbed. He realized that he had used his vibranium arm to grab you and was quick to regret it.

"Please don't touch me like that again." your voice was soft, almost a whisper and Bucky didn't expect for you to react like that.

He was expecting for you to yell at him, maybe even land a slap on his face. But instead, you shrinked and for the first time in a long time, Bucky saw someone look at him with fear like that. It was as if he was back to square one, back to the old version of him that he's been fighting so hard to forget.

-

It's been two days since the incident and Bucky still hadn't seen you around. He’s been wanting to apologize to you and patch things up. Your music still blasted through his walls so at least he knew that he didn't scare you enough to move away. Bucky's nightmares got worse and somehow, the incident with you was what violently shook him awake.

Bucky stared at his ceiling once again, his television turned off because he knew that you'd be playing your music out loud in a few. He was actually starting to get used to it and as much as he hated it, he often found himself singing along to the songs you had been playing.

Two am and there was still silence. Bucky laid on the floor as he waited for your music. Three minutes have passed and yet it remained quiet. Maybe you weren't home? Although he did see you from his balcony as you headed back inside the building after bringing your trash out earlier. Perhaps something else was keeping you busy? Why was Bucky even thinking about what you were doing? If any, he should be jumping at the opportunity to get some shuteye.

Bucky sighed and turned on the television like how he used to, turning the volume down and then closing his eyes in an attempt to fall asleep.

For a while, Bucky felt at peace for falling back to his routine before you moved in. Hushed whispers and soft cries caused Bucky to quickly sit up. He wasn't sure whether it was from the television or if his enhanced hearing was picking up something else. Bucky quickly turned off the television and sat in silence, closing his eyes to focus.

There was a loud thud coming from your apartment followed by a muffled sob. Bucky knew that something was wrong so he quickly dressed up and went to your apartment, knocking on the door continuously.

"Hey, it's me. Open up." Bucky called out and continued to knock when you didn't respond.

"Is everything okay in there?" he asked again, the silence from the other side of the door bothering him even more.

Bucky heard a few shuffles before he heard the door click. It slowly opened until you showed up, gaze downcast and hands trembling as you prevented the door from opening any further. Bucky couldn't even see through you at how you were blocking his view of your apartment.

"I'm fine. Just go." you softly said and attempted to close the door again.

Bucky frowned and held the edge of the door with his vibranium arm, stopping you from closing it and instead, pushing it open. You just allowed him to do that, something that confirmed Bucky's gut feeling that you were hiding something, or rather, someone.

"Man, just get the fuck out of here!" a guy exclaimed as he stood in the middle of your apartment.

Bucky was quick to notice the mess inside your apartment— clothes and chairs were strewn across the floor. His gaze went back to you and it was then that he saw the bruises on your arms and legs.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked worriedly.

You kept mum but saw the slow movement of your head, affirming his suspicions. The guy walked over to you and gripped your arm, violently pulling you behind him as he stood face to face with Bucky.

"It's none of your goddamn business." he threatened.

Bucky refused to look at the man and focused on you. He finally understood everything. Why you had been so aggressive towards him, why you reacted like that when he gripped your arm. You were afraid, not of him but because of what you were going through. This man had been abusing you and Bucky doesn't need to know for how long for him to understand your behavior.

"You just gonna fuckin' stand there or what?!" the guy asked, irritated at Bucky's presence.

"I think you should be the one to leave." Bucky said calmly, finally lifting his gaze to look at the man.

The man snickered, "Who the fuck are you to tell me that? You got the hots for my fuckin' girlfriend?" he asked.

"Leave her alone and never come back. I'll only ask you this once." Bucky warned, his jaw tightening as he stared at the man.

"Or else? You threatening me, man? You're gonna fucking regret it." the man chuckled before lifting his fist up to punch Bucky in the face.

Bucky rolled his eyes when he easily caught the man's fist in his vibranium arm, twisting it until the man looked at him in horror, screaming in pain. He let go of the man's fist and grabbed at the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer as he glared daggers at him.

"You are gonna fucking regret it if you come back here. If you ever lay a finger on her, so much as look at her...I'll find you. That's a promise." Bucky warned.

The guy was nearly in tears as he nodded in understanding, not trusting his voice. Bucky chuckled and dragged him out of your apartment, throwing him to the ground before pointing a gloved finger.

"You understand?" he asked again, snickering when the guy almost immediately scrambled away without even responding.

Bucky waited until the man was out of sight before quickly turning to you. You merely stood inside your apartment, body trembling as you hugged yourself.

"You okay?" Bucky asked gently, brows furrowing in worry as he slowly walked towards you.

He bent down to catch your gaze, "Can I...?" he asked, asking for your permission as he attempted to hold your shoulders.

You meekly nodded and heaved out a shaky sigh, composing yourself. Bucky held you carefully, rubbing your arms to soothe you after everything that has happened. You let him touch you like that because it was the first time in a long time that you received such gentleness. It almost moved you into tears, how Bucky held you with so much care.

"Come on, let's get you patched up." Bucky said and led you out of your apartment, not wanting you to stay there after being beaten up by your asshole of a boyfriend.

Bucky kept a hand on the small of your back, guiding you into his almost empty apartment. He almost felt embarrassed for having nothing but a couch, a chair and a television. You didn't seemed to mind though and immediately sat down upon reaching the couch.

Bucky fetched you a glass of water and sat down next to you, watching you drink it all in one go. Your hands weren't shaking that much anymore and the tension in your shoulders seemed to have subsided. You turned to Bucky and smiled at him for the first time.

"Thank you." you said. "And I owe you an apology. I know I was—“

"It's okay. You don't have to apologize. I understand." Bucky explained with a smile before it faltered, "I'm sorry for what you witnessed back there, I didn't mean to be violent like that but—“

It was your turn to cut him off, "Please don't be sorry. He deserved that." you bitterly chuckled.

Bucky found out that the guy was an ex-boyfriend and that he had been abusing you all throughout your relationship. You broke up with him a month ago that's why you moved into Bucky's apartment building. Apparently, you filed for a restraining order against him but the guy was obviously crazy to go against it, stalking you back to your apartment, hence the commotion.

"And the reason why I've been blasting music is because it keeps me from remembering the abuse he caused me. I can't think about anything else but that at night, when everything is quiet." you explained.

Bucky's heart ached because he understood, he truly understood your sentiments. His therapist taught him that peace isn't always a good thing. Sometimes, it is peace that causes chaos in the mind. Silence could be a dangerous thing, that's what you and Bucky have been experiencing.

"Would it help you if you talked to someone instead?" Bucky asked. "Because I'd love to have someone to talk to on nights I can't sleep." he said.

You offered a smile, "I'd keep you up every night then."

Bucky returned your smile, "Then it's a perfect set-up." he said, telling you that he too had trouble sleeping almost every night.

Bucky realized that he might have had a rough start with you, but he was glad for that. If it wasn't for your loud music blasting through his walls that one night, he wouldn't have found the perfect white noise to help him find solace at night— you.

-

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[haik-choo]

karasuno boys as boyfriends

a/n: im just basically astral projecting myself into these situations; ALSO if you want more detailed ones, just ask, and you shall receive! (also this is my first post i’ve written on here! but if you want plenty of kpop content i’m @hyucksong where i’ve been writing and I am still active! :))

---

[KARASUNO BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS HEADCANNONS]

-tsukishima, yamaguchi, hinata, kageyama, tanaka, nishinoya, sugawara, daichi, and asahi

---

tsukishima kei.

the type to look you straight in your eyes when you ask for a hug and say “no, who do you think i am, your boyfriend?”

runs his hands through your hair from the front and then when his hand reaches the back of your head he pulls you into him and kisses you either on the forehead or the lips <3

in order to be in a relationship with him you HAVE to have the same type of humor.

i don’t think he could date someone who doesn’t make fun of people with him

you guys are like best friends who make fun of each other and. make out a little every once in a while

he’ll hold your hand and hug you in public but he will NEVER do anything else, especially not in front of the boys

he thinks the blush that ignites on your kissable cheeks should be for his eyes only

he gave you a keychain that had a cute little strawberry shortcake on it. and it’s your most prized possession 

will shoot a glare at anyone who watches you too closely. like no. don’t get googly eyed over MY girlfriend. 

and you don’t have a problem with that ;) 

yamaguchi tadashi.

he likes to watch you when you’re not looking to pick out the little habits you do

he thinks that knowing someone’s little hardly noticeable habits is one of the most intimate things on mother earth

he knows that you stir the milk in the bowl three times before you pour the cereal in to check for chunks because you accidentally drank spoiled milk when you were younger

NEVER has an issue getting you a gift for any occasion. he ALWAYS knows what you’re looking at and what you want and you lowkey think he can read your mind but in reality he just pays attention <3

you’re either just as shy as him to bring out his more assertive side or more assertive than he is to bring out his more timid side -- both are good

kisses you on the forehead and holds your hand in public -- he loves PDA because he can show you off :’)

yes. he kisses the back of your nape in public. so what. 

YES. HE CLOSES HIS EYES WHEN HE DOES IT AND ACCIDENTALLY INHALES YOUR SCENT AND WHISPERS IN YOUR EAR THAT YOU SMELL GOOD. IDC IF YOU THINK THAT’S CREEPY. IT’S CUTE. YES. HE GIVES YOU THAT LOOK THAT SAYS HE’S CRAZILY IN LOVE WITH YOU. SO WHAT.

kageyama tobio.

he probably fell in love with you because you were just as passionate about something else as he is about volleyball; music, drawing, writing, math, science, reading -- whatever

i see this relationship as being one that’s like...accelerated friends. like,,, you act like him and hinata except you kiss sometimes and he can see you at the end of the wedding aisle

DEFINITELY reads cosmopolitans once you start dating because he wants to be a good boyfriend for you <3

PDA is literally little to NONe,,, not because he doesn’t like it...it’s just because he doesn’t realize that he’s not showing you affection lololol

like in one arm he has his athletic duffel bag and the other he has a volleyball

he doesn’t mean to neglect you he just does AGAGAG

realized he liked you when he thought about you when he was drinking his milk and mindlessly bought you one too

the first time y’all kissed. he literally stared at you so intensely for a SOLID ten minutes debating in his head whether or not he should just go for it or wait or just smash his face into yours and hope your lips connect

he chose to cross his fingers and ended up smashing his forehead and nose into yours 

it was cute tho <3

hinata shoyo.

YALL HAVE DATES WHERE YOU BABYSIT HIS SISTER. WTF SO CUTE

when yall cuddle and you’re the little spoon he likes to put his head on your shoulder/between your neck and watch as you scroll through tiktok or instagram and just mindlessly talk about his day 

the type of boyfriend where neither of you can cook and you both confusedly look at recipes on google like: ????? wtf is the difference between brown sugar and regular sugar

it’s his INSTINCT to hold your hand. no matter what. his hand just...gravitates to yous.

AND HIS LIPS JUST FIND YOUR CHEEK??? like it’s so natural to him to kiss your cheek when he sees you, even in public. it’s so adorable i--

THE TYPE OF GUY TO WIPE OFF FOOD FROM THE CORNER OF YOUR MOUTH AND STILL EAT IT AND SAY “you taste good!~” AND NOT EVEN REALIZE WHAT HE SAID. BUT WHEN YOU DO IT TO HIM HE BLOWS A FUSE

he loves to tickle you. like you’ll be vibing, drinking whatever you drink in the morning and he’ll come up to you all casually and kiss you cheek...and then he’ll pounce 

he holds you close to his chest when he tickles you, partally because he likes feeling your laugh vibrate on his chest, and partially because it’s easier to not get tickled if he’s right behind you

his sister LOVes you and it just. makes him so happy

tanaka ryuunosuke.

you CANNOT remove his hand from your ass. it is permanently glued there. it is attached to you. yes, even in public.

number 1 hypeman! he will always support you, no matter what! you could be in a competition to raise the biggest beetle and he’ll be there rooting you on and staying up late with you as you rear your award-winning beetle

you two lay next to each other on the couch/on his bed and he’ll have his arm around you and you’ll lay your head on his chest as you watch netflix shows

YOU, NISHINOYA, AND TANAKA? UNSTOPPABLE TRIO. POWER TRIPLET. 

i don’t imagine him being shy when he first kisses you; the first time he kissed you, you were literally just. existing and he literally just...couldn’t hold it in...and he just went for it

literally CATAPULTS himself into you and kisses you senseless

yes you and saeko are besties she gives you ALL the tea about young tanaka

the type to take off his shirt more during practice if you’re there watching, and literally BURN red if you mention anything about his muscles

you once traced a vein in his arm and commented on how hot it was and he literally short-circuited 

kiss his biceps. kiss his abs. kiss his cheek. please. it’s all he wants. he’s touch-starved

nishinoya yuu.

SUCH an excited boyfriend

like he seriously gets so hype doing ANYTHING with you pleaSE give this man an award. you’ll be at the amusement park and the line to get into a ride will be three hours and he’ll be like

“I get to spend three hours with you?!! fucking sick! absolutely radical!” 

he’s bold in public, but only because he wants to rub you in his teammates faces, but his ears will be Red

at home, he’s calmer :) he just loves to spend time with you, even if you’re sitting on a bench watching him practice receives for five hours straight in the blazing sun. 

he just treasures your time so much, you treats you like a precious gem -- he will NEVER treat you wrong. deadass has no problem admitting when he’s wrong -- but if he thinks he’s right then he WILL stand his ground

he’s a passionate man, who loves just as passionately.

his favorite time to kiss you is after you’ve taken a sip of a soda because he likes the taste of the syrup and the burn of the carbonation, but most of all because he likes the taste of your lips in combination with all of them

NIPS AT YOUR EAR. DEADASS JUST LOOKS AT YOU BRUSH A PIECE OF HAIR BACK WHEN YOU’RE DOING HOMEWORK AND IS LIKE “free real estate” AND C H O MPS

the day nishinoya told everyone yall were dating, kiyoko stopped you in the hallway and deadass got on her knees and thanked you LITERALLY she was like “i’ll buy you anything. give the word and it’ll be yours.” 

sugawara koushi.

would kiss you on the first date. deadass. he’ll just drop you off at your doorstep and you’re still high on adrenaline, and you’re lowkey hoping he’ll kiss you and you get  little disappointed when he doesn’t and then when you least expect it. bam. his lips on yours

his smell oh god, he literally smells like fresh sugar cookies. it’s like as soon as you get anywhere near him his smell just invades you nose and. you’re powerless. you just wanna hug him

never smells bad. try me, bitch. NEVER.

his hugs are literally god’s gifts. he loves hugging you. he just completely envelopes you with his pretty setter arms and his smell takes up all the space in your head and nothing else exists for that moment, just you two

loves tucking your hair behind your ears or just moving it out of your face; doing homework and your bangs are in the way? not for long because he’ll clip them up for you <3

he’s pretty mischievous and will playfully put his hand next to your head and lean down with such a HOT look in his eyes 

and he’ll say some shit like “i wanna devour you” and then he’ll laugh afterwards and give you a kiss on the forehead and you’re standing there. like -.- o.o -.- o.o

whenever he feels insecure about his position on the team, you’re always there to comfort him and he’ll just lay between your legs and rest his face on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair and scroll through tiktok

PDA? yes please. uh huh. mhmm. he doesn’t care who sees his love for you he just wants to love on you baby. kisses you on the lips, no problemo

daichi sawamura.

you and suga are the only ones who can scare him when yall are mad lol

boyfriend where you’ve dated for like a year but it feel like 50 have already passed. in a good way!

this relationship is so ungodly domestic. like from the first day it’s just pure comfort and he’s like your rock and you’re his anchor

you two bicker a lot but it’s lighthearted and you just feel so secure with him that poking fun at him and at yourself is just natural

daichi. gives. god. hugs. he does. it’s fact. 

his arms are just so big and he has so much body warmth and he probably smells like some bullshit cologne like “smoldering woods” and it’s just so. daichi

you two spend the night at each other’s house so often it’s like you already live with each other and people always forget that you don’t lolol

totally sleeps with his shirt off and only with underwear. isn’t awkward about it either;  when he wakes up he puts on sweats but still remains topless (not that you’re complaining)

you two are like. the strict parental couple, when you walk together whether it be down the street or in the hallways, you just look so right for each other it’s. mind blowing

doesn’t mind kissing you a little in public but really thinks that stuff should be for private; so normally he just kisses your temple and always has an arm either around your shoulder or around your waist

WHEN THE TEAM SEES YOU KISS ON THE LIPS THEY GO “EW” EVEN SUGA AND ASAHI AFIEFHEWIF

asahi azumane.

literal fucking teddy bear. god please cuddle him. please kith him. please comb through his hair with your fingers and kiss his nape and kiss the back of his head. please i beg of you.

did NOT ask you out first. he wrote love letter to you and then waiting behind the gym because he thought being near the volleyball gym would give him some luck and them you got in front of him and he was. deer in the headlights

needless to say you asked him out and kissed his cheek. he DIED

even once yall are comfortable in the relationship he still needs reassurance every once in a while because he’s a little insecure, not that you’ll leave him for someone else, but that he’s not good enough

his PDA skill are. subpar. he usually just holds your hand and that’s it, but sometimes kisses the corner of your eye or nose and you just combust

OH RIOGEH TOTALLY DOES BUTTERFLY AND BUNNY KISSES. YES GOD YESSSSS

when yall cuddle he doesn’t like spooning. he likes to be able to see your face and the expressions you make, so doesn’t like being the little or big spoon; yall face each other and just lets your head lay on his arm even tho it’s numb. im: soft

kisses are so sweet, slow, and hesitant. he doesn’t really kiss you often because he has terrible timing but...when he does it’s like the whole world just becomes still in that moment and nothing matters but his hands on your waist and yours in his hair