#My old notebook wanted to die

[sleepyskydraws]

Silly twitter art challenge as an excuse to draw Ninten again

[oopsiedaisymae]

god i miss creating.

[colorstormx]

if you're wondering how my inktober has been going....well, maybe don't

[singmyaubade]

the greatest heist

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james's girlfriend decides to fuck with you, your only other choice is to fuck with her.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, wearing, jealousy

a/n: this story was an OLD draft and i kind of wanted to finish it so yeah. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

part 1 | part 2

THE sun peeked through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a warm glow that made your bed feel like the most comfortable place in all of Hogwarts.

You groaned as you felt someone shaking your bed, a voice calling out urgently.

"Y/N!” They yelled again, the bed shaking more forcefully.

“For fuck’s sake!" you mumbled, sitting up and squinting against the bright light. "What do you want?”

"Wake up!" Dorcas stood there, clearly annoyed. “We have astronomy in two minutes!”

That definitely jolted you awake.

You practically leaped out of bed, catching sight of Dorcas rushing to button her shirt. “Fuck!” you exclaimed, quickly slipping into your tights and skirt.

“Why did nobody wake us up?” you asked, frustration bubbling as you glanced at your roommates. It was a mix of annoyance at them and yourself.

“Bloody fucking twats,” Dorcas muttered. “I’m going to stick my wand so far up their arse once I get to that tower.”

“Count me in,” you replied, hurriedly putting on your shoes—still not fully laced—and adjusting your tie.

You grabbed your book bag. “Come on!” Dorcas urged, already heading for the door.

You both practically ran to the stairs, unready for the most strenuous workout of your life. You both huffed in frustration as the stairs moved.

You looked up at the seemingly endless flights of stairs, frustration boiling over. "These stairs are a fucking safety hazard," You hissed. "Do they not care if we die?"

Dorcas crossed her arms, panting slightly. “Dumbledore is definitely getting my letter of complaints,” She ranted. “I mean, I understand we’re young wizards and witches, but Merlin, are these stairs really bloody necessary?”

You chuckled as the stairs set in place and you both rushed to the top quickly.

You both huffed, clearly out of breath as you both pressed on, each step feeling like a small victory.

With a force of urgency, you opened the door to your Astronomy class as the entire class turned their heads to you. You could hear several students snickering, specifically the Slytherins as you flipped them off.

Professor Adair turned to you both with a sigh. “Nice to see you, ladies. May I gift one of you a watch for Christmas?” He asked sarcastically, prompting a few snickers from the class.

Desperately trying to catch your breath, you replied, “Apologies, Professor. I’m afraid my alarm didn’t go off.” You quickly took your seat next to Sirius, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

“Mine too!" Dorcas argued, "And to be fair, I mean this class is pretty high.” She moved next to Dorcas.

Professor Adair rolled his eyes, continuing with the class with a mutter about the two of you.

“You know,” Sirius leaned into you, “If you need a proper alarm-“ He slyly said, hand almost touching your thigh.

You stomped on his leg as he groaned, touching the injured limb.

“Note taken.” He hissed.

You smirked as you started writing down a note in your notebook which you made into a paper plane, flying it over to Lily.

She looked at you hesitantly, opening it.

Why did you not wake me or Dorcas up?

She looked at you, looking confused as the angry look on your face never faded. She began writing down her response which she sent to you.

Emma told us all that she would wake you both up and when she came to Astronomy, she said she did.

A fuse blew inside of you, of course Emma was behind this. It makes sense that she would be the one to do it considering how she treated your entire friend group.

For context, Emma was all of your supposed “best friend” which would be a fine label if she didn’t sabotage anyone who she thought was a threat.

At first, she considered Lily a threat because of how much others loved her especially James Potter. So instead of asking Lily to put a good word in for her with the others and James, she started spreading horrid rumors about her.

And everyone being cruel teenagers believed her, berating her wherever she went.

It took the entire girl group and the Marauders to make people back off and debunk these rumors.

Although you and the rest of the girls knew that Emma had done this, she had gaslighted Lily into thinking that it was obviously some bitter Slytherin that were jealous instead of her and eventually, the situation turned boring and died down into nothing.

But that wasn't even the end.

Soon after, she considered Mary a threat due to how smart and confident she was and decided to get her absolutely hammered before OWL'S.

And it caused her to get a poor score which resulted in her not leaving her bed for weeks.

But again, Mary had blamed herself and told everyone that it was "her stupid decision" that led to this.

After that, it had been Marlene.

Then suddenly, it had been Dorcas.

And now you were clearly her new target for what reason? Merlin knows.

The only reason she didn't wake Dorcas up was because she knew she couldn't single you out. Emma knew you disliked her from the moment you met her and you weren't as nice about it.

Now, you may not know why she was targeting you at the present moment but the boy in front of you laughing with Remus could've been a huge clue.

James Potter.

Golden Boy, Heart-throbber, Fit, Kind, Funny, Brave, Determined, Bold.. I mean did you really have to go on?

The man that Emma had been in love with for years and had been dating for the present moment.

And not only was no girl allowed to approach James without dealing with Emma but she would pay hell for even making eyes at him.

Unfortunately for you, James had been struggling a bit for charms and enlisted your help in studying. At first, you had gave him a 'fuck no' before moving in order to not get his girlfriends wrath but when he pleaded and begged,

You forfeited.

You were hoping that he would keep it a secret but James being the dumbass he is mentioned how much of a good time it was to the entire group, Emma grew as red as a tomato.

You mentally cursed James, knowing that your life was already going to become a living hell.

Fortunately, you kept most stuff to yourself and never confided in Emma with anything.

There was nothing that Emma could do to incriminate you with but you just knew that she wouldn't back down and there was nothing you could do.

You did do your best to keep away from her but Lily couldn't stop hanging out with her which made the rest of your group completely vulnerable.

At the same time, you couldn't blame Lily for being so gullible and kind-hearted but it made her a pushover and Emma could guilt trip her way out of anything.

So if Emma was going to play this game, you were alone.

And you had to be the best player.

The bell chimed, bring you out of thought as you began packing up.

Emma came over to you, "Y/N! I'm so sorry that I didn't try harder to wake you and Dorcas." She hummed, "I thought you were fully up by time the time I left." She faked a sincere smile.

"Yeah Emma, I think it would be best if you never enlist yourself to such a task again, I'm afraid it requires a bit more of a brain hmm?" You sweetly said, leaving the conversation as she scowled towards you.

You rushed over to Remus, "Remus, please tell me you have the notes for this class." You pouted, grabbing ahold of his arm.

"Of course." He told you, beginning to grab his notebook out of his book-bag.

"Thank you so much," You gratefully said as you began walking with them.

"Wait, why didn't you ask me?" Sirius asked, pouting.

You let out a snort, "Have you seen your handwriting?" You derided as James and Peter laughed.

Sirius fake sniffled, "One day Y/N, you will appreciate my beauty and brains." Sirius dramatically hair flipped.

"You know there's nothing up there." James said, knocking on Sirius's head as Sirius swatted his hand.

You rolled your eyes as Remus handed over his notebook to which you thanked him with a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey! Wheres mine?" Peter asked, "I gave you the notes for potions."

You rolled your eyes again, giving Peter a peck on the cheek as well.

Your eyes locked onto Sirius, already knowing what he was gonna say, "Well, you just insulted me, I think you owe me one." Sirius said, tapping his cheek.

You clenched your jaw, pecking his cheek quickly as he grinned from ear to ear.

"Wait where's mine?" James asked as your eyes widened, "Don't wanna be left out," He fake sniffled.

"Your girlfriend will quite literally harvest my organs." You scarily said, putting the notebook in your bag.

"It's just a kiss on the cheek!" He argued as the whole group shook their head.

"Mate, I'm going to have to agree with her on this one," Sirius patted James on the back, "She will bloody kill Y/N and us for letting it happen." Sirius said.

There was a rumble of protest in his throat but a part of him knew that you both were right. He didn't want you to be faced with the fire on Emma based on his actions.

"Fine, guess you guys are right," He muttered as he dragged his feet.

You groaned, reaching over to James and pecking him on the cheek as he grinned.

“Everyone's been kissed now,” you sighed, your voice trailing off in frustration. “Can we just—” But before you could finish, a sharp voice sliced through the air.

“Y/N!” Emma screeched, her anger prominent as the group recoiled, hissing in surprise. She stormed toward you, her face flushed with rage.

You were begging Merlin that she hadn't seen the peck you gave to James.

“Did you just kiss my boyfriend?” She laughed harshly, her grip tightening on James's arm as he shot you an apologetic look, guilt written all over his face.

“Oh, maybe it was Sirius instead?” You quipped, trying to deflect with a joke, but Peter’s snort only deepened the tension.

“Real clever,” Emma shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she stepped closer, invading your space. “A good friend wouldn’t do that, Y/N. I don’t take betrayal lightly.” Her tone was sharp, a warning laced within it.

You matched her intensity, moving closer until your breaths mingled as you spoke, “And I don’t take threats lightly.”

“Okay, let’s all just calm down!” Sirius intervened, wrapping an arm around your waist while James did the same to Emma, but the heat between you and Emma crackled like a campfire, neither of you backing down.

“It was just a peck, sweetheart,” James cooed, wrapping an arm around Emma as you rolled your eyes, arms crossed in disbelief.

Emma pouted, “You know how protective I get about you.” She nestled into his chest, and the sight made your stomach churn.

“I know, baby,” he said with a smile, holding her close, while the rest of the Marauders looked on, barely able to stomach the scene unfolding before them.

“As entertaining as this little drama is, I need to get ready for the party tonight,” you announced, desperate for an escape.

"The party isn't until tonight!" Peter said, confused.

"Mentally prepare!" You joked.

“Wait!” Emma’s voice pierced through your thoughts just as you turned to leave, and you sighed, bracing yourself for her next act.

Her expression shifted, all sweetness now. “I’m sorry for misreading things with James,” She said, feigning concern. “I know you’ve never had a boyfriend,” She added, her tone dripping with condescension. “But, you can get a bit... jealous. But we’re friends, right? So I shouldn’t act like that.”

You clicked your tongue, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes even harder.

“And as your friend,” She whispered, pulling you into a tight hug, “I just want to warn you. If you so much as talk to James at the Gryffindor party tonight, I’ll make your life a living hell.”

She released you, her smile wide and disingenuous, and before you could even muster a response, she skipped back to James, leaving you fuming.

Fury coursed through your veins as her words echoed in your mind, the unfairness of it all burning like a fire inside you.

Ever since Emma had walked into your life, she had fucked with everything around you.

Your friends, your reputations, your social life, hell even your sanity.

And if nobody else was gonna put a stop to her.

You guess it would have to be you.

-----------

Are you really ready to wage war with her?” Dorcas chimed in from the closet, her tone skeptical.

“Dorc,” You began, frustration creeping into your voice. “Emma has been terrorizing us since third year. Are you seriously going to tell me that taking her down doesn’t sound appealing?”

She sighed, contemplating. “Okay, fine, you’ve got a point. But how exactly are you planning to take her on?”

A sly smirk crept across your face as you revealed the outfit you’d picked: a black corset paired with the shortest black skirt you could find, topped off with fishnets. Dorcas’s jaw dropped sarcastically. “So, you’re going to out-dress her?” She asked, incredulous.

“No,” You replied, rolling your eyes. “I’m going to use her worst fear against her. I’m going to seduce James.”

Dorcas nearly choked. “Do you have a death wish?”

“Listen, I would never usually even consider looking at another girl’s boyfriend, but this is different. James is the one thing that will shatter her, and honestly, it sounds cruel, but so is she!” You shot back, your resolve hardening.

“And if she tells the whole school what you’re doing, you’ll look like a homewrecker and be exiled,” Dorcas countered.

“Which is why it has to look like it’s all James’s idea,” You insisted, undeterred. “He’s been my friend since childhood; it’ll look innocent.”

“I don’t think this idea is as foolproof as you think,” Dorcas muttered, slipping into her red dress with an exasperated sigh.

“Dorc, trust me, she can’t hurt me,” You reassured her, the fire in your belly fueling your confidence.

“Well, if everything goes south,” Dorcas said with a reluctant smile, “I’ve got your back.”

You beamed at her. “What would I do without you?”

Just then, a loud bang echoed on your door. “Hurry up before all the firewhiskey is gone!” Marlene called, her voice a mix of urgency and excitement.

You and Dorcas shared a laugh, gathering your belongings and heading down to the common room, adrenaline buzzing in the air as you prepared to face the chaos of the night ahead.

The lively atmosphere of the common room was a familiar backdrop for you all; it felt like there was always a party, whether an event warranted it or not. You, Marlene, and Dorcas scanned the room and spotted your usual crew gathered around the couch. With a burst of energy, you hopped right next to James.

His eyes widened in surprise as he took in your outfit, but before he could say anything, Sirius swooped in.

“Y/N, have I ever told you how much I’m attracted to you?” He drawled, causing you to snort.

“Eyes off, Black,” You shot back playfully, just as Marlene whacked him with a pillow.

“Why do I even try?” He lamented, sinking dramatically into his chair.

Marlene grinned mischievously. “You know, I’d sleep with you, Black.”

Sirius’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Yeah, if you pay me and wear a cloak,” She teased, sending the group into fits of laughter.

Sirius scowled at Marlene while Lily pinched his cheeks, only for him to swat her hands away with a playful glare.

“You do look good, Y/N,” James murmured, his voice sincere.

You turned to him, arching an eyebrow. “Now what did I do to deserve a compliment from James Potter?”

He chuckled softly. “Well, after what I put you through this morning, I think you deserve more than just a compliment.”

“Speaking of this morning,” you leaned in closer, lowering your voice, “Where’s your girlfriend?”

James shrugged, a hint of frustration flickering across his face. “We got into a fight after you left. I tried to talk to her about her manners,” he said, his tone casual but the weight behind his words was clear.

“But you guys were literally snuggling when I left,” You laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, well, that was before I realized how messed up her behavior was. Jus'... embarrassing, you know?” He gulped down his drink, and you couldn’t help but notice the guilt etched on his face.

It twisted your heart, seeing him upset. James was your best friend, and the thought of anyone hurting him made your stomach churn.

You hated seeing him like this, torn between loyalty and the flaws of the person he cared for. It felt like a heavy weight was pressing down on both of you, and all you wanted was to lift it.

"Well," You spoke as he looked at you, "If you want me to forgive you, I think a dance would do," You said, standing up and extending a hand to him.

A goofy smile plastered on his face, James said, "Anything for M’lady’s forgiveness."

You scrunched your nose at his corniness as he took your hand and led you onto the dance floor. He twirled you around, making you giggle before pulling you back in to sway together.

"You’re such a dork," You snickered.

"And how many years have I proven that to you?" He shot back, laughter in his voice as you rested your head on his shoulder.

His fingertips grazed your back while you swayed, and he whispered in your ear, "I miss us hanging out."

Outside of Charms tutoring and classes, you never got to see James and it always hurt you. You both knew why you couldn’t and voicing it would only make it worse.

But it had been hard not having a proper hangout with just the both of you since third year.

You felt warmth spread through you, flustered. "I miss hanging out with you too."

Looking at him, you noticed how beautiful he looked—his messy hair and that infectious grin. There was always a gleam in his eye, and everything about him radiated warmth. It felt like summer when you were together, and butterflies filled your stomach.

You knew he was just your best friend, nothing more. And that would always be the truth, as long as you told yourself that.

Suddenly, James twirled you again, but this time you spun out of his grip and fell onto the suddenly slippery floor.

You fell with a hiss, "Shit!" you moaned, wincing in pain as James rushed over with the rest of the group, the crowd parting to give you space.

"What the fuck happened?" Sirius asked, concern etched on his face.

"I don't know!" James replied, kneeling beside you. "She just slipped!"

You hissed as you tried to stand on your sprained ankle.

"Let me see," James muttered, inspecting your foot as you groaned.

"Maybe it's her leg," Marlene added.

"Well duh," Sirius shot back, earning a playful hit from Marlene.

"Can we just get her to Pomfrey?" Lily huffed, and the boys nodded in agreement.

Sirius tried to rush over to you, but James waved him off. "I got her," he said, lifting you bridal-style.

You winced at the jolt to your ankle, nuzzling into his neck as you caught a glimpse of Emma in the back of the room, her expression burning with rage.

You knew then that the games were just beginning.

[kenzdolls]

𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎’𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄

𖤐 synopsis: with the feeling of being disregarded from izuku, you try to end the relationship; but, izuku unexpectedly reels you back in with a surprisingly, odd way of an apology.

𖤐 trigger warnings: angst/fluff at the end

𖤐 pairing: izuku midoriya x gender neutral! reader

the afternoon sun cast long shadows across u.a. high school's campus as you made your way toward heights alliance, the dormitory where class 1-a resided. your footsteps were heavy, matching the weight in your chest.

today marked exactly two months since you and izuku midoriya had started dating, but instead of celebrating, you were dreading the conversation you needed to have.

the world outside the school walls had grown increasingly dangerous. villains were organizing, heroes were falling, and somehow in the middle of it all was your boyfriend—a sixteen-year-old with the weight of an impossible legacy on his shoulders and determination burning in his eyes that sometimes scared you.

you found him in the common room, notebook open on his lap, muttering analysis to himself as he reviewed footage of recent hero battles. his green hair was messier than usual, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. he hadn't noticed you yet.

"izuku," you called softly.

his head snapped up, and immediately his tired face transformed with a smile that made your heart ache. "hey! i didn't hear you come in." he closed his notebook and patted the spot beside him on the couch. "i was just studying some new techniques that could help with controlling—"

"can we talk?" you interrupted, remaining standing. "somewhere private?"

his smile faltered, concern immediately replacing his enthusiasm. "sure. my room?"

the walk up to the fourth floor was quiet, tension building with each step. izuku's room was exactly as it always was—all might memorabilia covering nearly every surface, analysis notebooks stacked on his desk, workout equipment in the corner. it should have felt comfortable by now, but today it just reminded you of how single-minded his focus could be.

"is everything okay?" he asked as he closed the door behind you.

you took a deep breath. "not really. i'm worried about you, izuku."

he blinked, confusion written across his freckled face. "worried? about me? why?"

"why?" you couldn't help the slight edge that crept into your voice. "have you looked in a mirror lately? you're exhausted. you're pushing yourself way too hard with this new blackwhip training. aizawa-sensei said you were in recovery girl's office twice this week."

izuku's shoulders tensed slightly. "that's normal for training. i have to master these quirks if i'm going to—"

"if you're going to what? save everyone? become the number one hero? die trying?" the words came out harsher than you intended, but weeks of bottled concern were finally spilling over.

his eyes widened. "that's not fair. you know how important this is."

"of course i know," you said, trying to keep your voice level. "the whole world knows how important it is. but i'm not dating the future symbol of peace or one for all or whatever. i'm dating you, izuku. the boy who might not live to graduation at this rate."

a flash of hurt crossed his face. "i'm being careful."

"no, you're not!" you gestured to the bandages peeking out from beneath his school uniform sleeve. "this isn't normal, izuku. most teenagers worry about exams and crushes, not villains targeting them specifically."

"i never said it would be normal," he countered, his voice quiet but firm. "when you said you wanted to be with me, i thought you understood what that meant."

the implication stung. "so i'm just supposed to watch you destroy yourself? smile and nod while you come back with new scars every week?"

"i'm getting stronger!" his voice rose slightly, a rare show of frustration. "every training session, every new technique—it's all to make sure i can protect everyone. to make sure i can protect you."

"i never asked you to protect me," you said. "i asked you to be with me. there's a difference."

the argument built like a gathering storm, months of unspoken fears and frustrations finally finding voice. the common room incident with bakugo where izuku had jumped in front of you unnecessarily. the hospital visit after his internship that he'd downplayed. the nightmares he wouldn't talk about that left him shaking and distant.

"you don't understand what's coming," izuku said, running a hand through his hair. "the league is getting stronger. all for one is—"

"stop." you held up your hand. "i'm not asking for hero intel, izuku. i'm asking for my boyfriend to care about his own safety as much as he cares about everyone else's." "i do care!"

"then why won't you ever slow down? why won't you let anyone help you? even all might is worried, i can see it when he watches you train."

his face flushed with emotion. "because there isn't time! because if i fail, people die! because all might chose me, and i can't let him down!"

the words hung in the air between you, heavy and revealing. this wasn't just about heroics or training—this was about a boy desperate to prove himself worthy of an impossible mantle.

you sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. "i can't compete with that, can i? with all might, with one for all, with your destiny or whatever you want to call it." "it's not a competition," he said softly. "it feels like one. and i'm losing." you reached for your bag. "maybe we rushed into this. maybe dating the successor to all might isn't something i'm cut out for."

panic flashed across izuku's face. "wait, what are you saying?" "i'm saying i need space to think, izuku. this isn't what i thought it would be." you turned toward the door, willing yourself not to cry. "i care about you too much to watch you self-destruct."

"please don't go," he whispered, voice cracking slightly. "not like this." but you were already reaching for the doorknob, determined to leave before the tears threatening to spill could fall. you needed time to sort through your feelings, to decide if loving a boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders was something you could actually handle.

"i'm sorry," you said quietly. what happened next occurred so quickly you barely had time to register it. there was a crackling sound, a flash of dark energy in your peripheral vision, and suddenly you felt something wrap firmly around your waist—not painfully, but with unmistakable strength. blackwhip.

the dark tendrils of izuku's newer quirk had extended from his hand, gently but firmly holding you in place. before you could protest, he had pulled you back toward him, spinning you around to face him. his eyes were wide with surprise at his own actions, a look that suggested he'd acted purely on instinct.

and then, in a move that shocked you both, he leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against your cheek—a desperate, impulsive gesture that silenced whatever words had been forming on your lips.

for a moment, neither of you moved. the blackwhip dissipated, but izuku didn't step away, his face inches from yours, cheeks burning crimson.

"i—i'm sorry," he stammered, mortification dawning as he realized what he'd done. "i didn't mean to use my quirk on you. that was completely inappropriate and—"

"izuku," you interrupted his spiraling apology. "you used blackwhip on me." he winced. "i know. i'm really sorry. i panicked and—"

"no," you said, something warm unfurling in your chest despite everything. "you controlled it perfectly. no damage. no pain."

his rambling stopped as he processed your words. "oh. yeah, i guess i did." a small, tentative smile crossed your face. "that's the first time you've used it without hurting yourself or breaking something. and you did it…for me." the realization seemed to dawn on him too, his eyes widening slightly. "i wasn't even thinking about control. i just didn't want you to leave."

you reached up, touching your cheek where his kiss still lingered. "and the, um…?"

his blush deepened impossibly. "that was impulse. total impulse. i'm sorry if it was unwelcome or—"

"it wasn't unwelcome," you said softly. the tension between you shifted, the anger from moments before not gone but transformed into something different, something more vulnerable. "i'm scared, izuku," you admitted, finally voicing the fear that had been driving your anger. "not of villains or fighting or any of that. i'm scared of losing you."

his expression softened, understanding replacing defensiveness. "i'm scared too," he confessed. "all the time. but that's why i have to keep pushing, keep getting stronger."

"but at what cost?" you reached for his hand, turning it over to reveal the scars that mapped his sacrifices. "these aren't just training injuries. these are pieces of yourself you're giving away." izuku looked down at his scarred hand in yours. "i know it seems that way. but every scar is a lesson learned. a mistake i won't make again."

"and what about us? am i just another lesson waiting to happen?"

he shook his head firmly. "no. never." he took a deep breath. "look, i can't promise i'll stop training hard. i can't promise i won't put myself in danger when lives are at stake. but i can promise that you're not competing with anything or anyone. you're…" he searched for words, "you're the reason i come back, not just the reason i fight." "that sounds nice, but what does it actually mean?"

"it means i'll try harder to find balance. to take breaks. to let you in when things get overwhelming instead of shouldering everything alone." he squeezed your hand gently. "and maybe…maybe you could help me remember that saving the world includes saving enough of myself for the things that matter after the fighting's done."

you studied his face—earnest, determined, those green eyes that had always seen more in you than you sometimes saw in yourself. "that's a lot of maybes."

"i know. but i'm willing to try if you are." he hesitated, then added quietly, "i don't want our first argument to be our last conversation."

despite everything, you felt a smile tugging at your lips. "you know, most couples' first fights are about something normal. like where to eat dinner or forgetting an anniversary."

he laughed softly, the sound a welcome break in the tension. "when have either of us ever been normal?"

"fair point." you sighed, some of the anger and frustration finally draining away. "for the record, using your quirk to stop someone from walking away is definitely crossing a line." he winced. "i know. it won't happen again."

"good." you stepped closer, poking his chest lightly. "because next time i might actually be mad enough that you'd end up in recovery girl's office for an entirely different reason."

his eyes widened slightly before he caught the teasing in your tone, a smile spreading across his face. "so…there will be a next time? for us, i mean?"

instead of answering immediately, you reached up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, mirroring his impulsive gesture from before. "yes, you heroic idiot. but we have a lot to figure out." relief washed over his features. "we will. i promise." he hesitated, then added, "um, can i…i mean, would it be okay if i…"

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress your smile. "yes, deku, you can kiss me properly now."

his face lit up with the same determined joy you'd seen when he mastered a new technique, and as he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a gentle, tentative kiss, you understood something important: loving izuku midoriya would never be easy. there would always be dangers and fears and arguments about his reckless heroism.

but maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.

outside the window, clouds shifted, allowing late afternoon sunlight to stream into the room, illuminating the space between two teenagers figuring out how to balance first love against the weight of a world that demanded heroes.

"for what it's worth," izuku whispered as he pulled back from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, "controlling blackwhip was a lot easier when i was thinking about holding onto you instead of fighting."

you smiled, storing that confession away like a precious secret. "then maybe we've both learned something important today."

as the sun continued its descent outside, casting long shadows across u.a.'s campus, you and izuku sat on the edge of his bed, hands intertwined, talking about boundaries and fears and hopes—the kind of conversation that transforms a crush into something deeper, something worth fighting for.

your first argument hadn't ended your relationship. instead, it had given it roots, something solid to grow from. and in a world increasingly filled with uncertainty and danger, that was its own kind of heroism.

taglist: — open! [dm me if you’re interested]

mutuals: @https-bakugo @n3r0-5352 @kitkat13001 @haikyuubby @https-bakugo

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

[satxnsupreme666]

Love in the darkest hour: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal

Masterlist

Requested by: @perfectartisanwerewolf

Summary: During Agatha´s trial, you are the one that gets possessed, Rio and Agatha get protective of you but you end up getting hurt, your girlfriends feel guilty and all of the wicthes get worried about you.

Warnings: Reader gets hurt, mention of wounds, broken bones, angst and fluff,  I think that´s it (Oh, and English is not my first language but I still try hard to check my own grammar)

Word count:  6k+

Author’s notes: In this story Alice does not die.

Hello, this was a requested story, and I wanted to write it before posting the final old stories I wrote three years ago, sorry that I took three days to write this and that is not longer, but I will be honest, I divide my time between doing nothing at all or doing everything at the same time (that means writing, reading, listening to some music, playing something, watching a movie etc.)

I hope this is what you were waiting for @perfectartisanwerewolf ♥️

I hope you like it! ♥️

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really ♥️

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange  @eliscannotdance

“We’re ok” Agatha announced after all of you had had to fly away from the Salem seven, it had been close, really close, all of you really needed to be more careful, you still were worried about those entities trying to get Agatha, she had told you that you didn’t need to worry about, but still, you didn’t want that something happened to Agatha.

“No, we’re not, the entire Halloween aisle’s outside waiting for us” Maybe Jenn was right, could they be really outside?

“Well it doesn’t look like they can get in, does it? All we have to do is complete the trial and continue on before they can get us” Her sentence seemed to calm everyone a little bit, Jenn seemed to relax a little.

“My spell book, I can’t find it!” The teen started to look inside his little bag.

“Where’d you have it last time?” Lilia tried to reason with him so he could think clearly.

“Flying on a broom” The teen sounded sad, so you went towards him and put your hand on his shoulder, you felt bad for him, you wanted to reassure him somehow.

“Forget about it, you can take the training wheels off” The older witch said to him still standing in front of the door.

The teen looked at you and Lilia with a sad expression.

“Hey it’s alright, Agatha’s right, you don’t need it, all of those spells that were on your notebook are also there inside your head, you know all of them, so don’t worry alright?” He seemed to understand because he quickly smiled at you and nodded.

Agatha saw the interaction with a smile on her face, she loved how you were be able to make everyone feel better; you knew how to cheer someone up, you could not only heal physical wounds, but also wounds that were not visible and that only hurt people emotionally.

You sensed someone watching you and turned to look at the direction where you sensed the gaze on you, Agatha was looking at you from her place, she was staring at you with so much love, she winked at you and smiled back at her.

“Look at you!” The teen suddenly said to you, you looked back at him and then at your clothes, noticing the style of the clothes that you were wearing, it was kind of like the ones in the slasher movies you liked to watch.

Looking back at the teen in front of you, you noticed his shirt and shorts as well, glancing back at the other witches you realized they were wearing the same clothing style, same thing that had happened during the last trials, you still wondered when would be your trial and what theme would it be, would it have a creepy vibe? With maybe a haunted house? Or maybe an abandoned house in the middle of a forest? A hill? You were excited to find out.

“You look like one of the teens from those eighties and nineties slasher movies” You had to tell him, if not you knew the idea would never leave your mind.

He took a glance at his clothes and then at the surroundings, he could not deny that you were right, all of you looked like one the main characters of a slasher movie set in the 80’s or 90’s, he remembered something so suddenly that he had to take you by your shoulders, you giggled before he even had the chance to say what had crossed his mind.

“Oh my god, y/n I have the perfect playlist for this!” You grinned and saw how he moved his hands to his sides, as if he was trying to find something, he pursed his lips and looked back at you.

“Right, I forgot, I don’t have my phone either” He sounded a little bit annoyed but smiled at the end anyway.

“You don’t even have pockets remember” you were right, he should have remembered that first.

Rio had heard your comment about the slasher movies and turned herself to look at him, she smirked and walked closer to the two of you.

When she saw you from behind, she noticed that you were wearing clothes that were similar to hers and her eyes looked you up and down, when she got closer to you, she passed her arms around your waist and pulled you closer to her, you instinctively rested your head against her chest.

The teen noticed the smirk on Rio’s face which only made him squirm, Rio scared him, her deadly stare made him grimace.

“Hey, she is right, you do look like a character in a slasher movie from the 80’s, you would be the first character to die at the start of the movie” She said to him while staring without blinking and on top of that, the smirk had never disappeared from her face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at her comment, slightly you patted her chest, the teen swallowed hard and blinked several times trying to laugh awkwardly.

“That is not something nice to say Vidal, don’t mess with him, you scare him” You said to her with a pout on your face.

“She does not scare me” The teen replied back, but Rio turned her head hastily at him and bit into the air, as if she was warning him that she could bite him, the teen jumped slightly.

“Maybe just a little” The dark-haired boy commented being wary of Rio.

“Don’t mind her” Was what you said to him while looking at him with a smile on your face.

“I think you would be one of the final boys that make it to the end of the movie” The boy in front of you seemed to think about it and nodded, he seemed convinced that he would actually be a final girl, and you didn’t doubt it, he smiled fondly at you, and Rio started to caress your back.

“Who would you think I’ would be in a slasher movie set on the 80’s sweetheart?” Rio asked you rising her right eyebrow.

You brought your hand to your chin and acted as if you were in deep thought, but of course, you already had your answer.

“You would be the killer, the killer everyone suspects but cannot actually prove it” You said out lout and the teen gasped.

“She is right, you would be the killer” You had not noticed that the other witches had walked towards you, they were already near you and were looking at you with small smiles on their faces.

Even if they did not trust Agatha at all, and were a little bit scared of Rio because of her antics, they find you really adorable.

In their minds they still could not comprehend how someone as sweet as you, who only used magic to heal people, was with the other two witches.

They still did not understand what a healing witch whose magic was as pure as the meaning of white lilies was doing with Agatha Harkness, former user of the darkhold and with Rio, the witch who did not care about anything and seemed to be so scary, the same woman who agreed on being a “psycho” with a big smile on her face.

Even if they did not comprehend it at all, they could see the way the two witches acted around you, and the way they treated you, they were soft with you, you were the only one that could see and had the privilege to see that side of them, you felt really lucky.

Rio turned her head back at the teen and tilted her head slightly.

“If I was the killer, you would be my first victim, you would not even make it to the second act” Your girlfriend said as if she was just saying facts.

“That is not right Rio, I am pretty sure he would be one of the few that actually makes it to the end” Rio cackled and you tilted your head to give her a disapproving look.

“Ah, fine, he would make it to the end” This deep down made the teen jump internally, it made him feel excited that she had admitted that.

Rio gave you a playful pat on your shoulder.

“Let me look for Agatha, we don’t want her to cause more trouble do we?” She winked at you and left your side.

Alice then came to stand next to the teen, with a curious look on her face.

“Who would I be in a slasher movie?” She inquired looking excited to know your answer.

Examining her carefully you came to the only conclusion that seemed accurate for Alice.

“I think you would be the main character, the protagonist who is tortured and stalked by the killer, because she was the only one who escaped, you would be one of the original final girls, the final girl who fights back, like Laurie Strode on Halloween” Her eyebrows were risen and nodded her head in understanding.

“Yeah, she is totally right, you would be a total badass” The teen agreed with you. Alice beamed with happiness and pressed her hands together.

“You heard that?” Alice asked glancing at Jenn and Lilia.

“I am not really a fan of horror movies, so I really don’t know what you are talking about” Explained Jenn and Lilia nodded her head in a way of showing she felt the same.

Smiling at them you started to explain everything “It’s fine, basically, the horror or slasher movies tend to have a series of “rules” that characterize them, one thing for the slasher movies is for example, that there is a killer-“

“Sometimes there are two killers” The teen quickly said.

“Or sometime yes there are two killers, who usually start their murder spree killing different characters, and the final girl is the character who makes it to the end of the movie and defeats the villain” You finished your explanation.

“Who do you think Agatha would be?” The teen inquired.

“I would say that because of her personality traits she would be the killer that no one suspects of, I mean she is smart, charming” The four of them nodded in agreement.

“And who would you be?” The boy asked you again.

“I would be the character who dies at the start” You simply said, and they all started to discuss that in fact that would not be true.

“I think you would be the character that everyone is attached to, like the character who is friends with everyone and who also everyone tries to protect, you know? also I can see how you would be close to the final girl and you would get extra protection” The teen said and put a finger on his chin, looking at you, analyzing you, you only smiled at him and shook your head.

“Is this how people really looked at the time? I mean, the clothing style, the vibe, all of it?” You wondered out loud and jumped when you felt someone hugging you from behind, you felt the arms of Rio pulling you closer to her.

“Yes, people actually dressed up like this” Agatha said behind you, and all of you turned to look at her, she had kind of a disheveled look, he hair up in a ponytail and the oversized purple shirt fitted her amazingly.

“Whose trial is this?” Asked the teen while looking up at the ceiling.

Rio looked at the window in front of you and you did the same thing, the blood moon could be perfectly seen since your position.

“Agatha’s” answered the witch holding you from behind, you were a little bit worried, so you turned your head to look at Agatha, she saw your worried expression and gave you a reassuring smile, it was a tad scary for her, but with you and Rio there by her side, she knew the trial would be easily passed, or at least, that’s what she hoped.

Hearing Lilia’s explanation about the blood money and the believe of a misconception she mentioned, everyone turned around to look at their beeping watches in their wrists.

“The road wants us to Ouija” The teen showed all of you the board, and everyone started to gather closer, then he proceeded to read the rules.

“Number two, do not speak over each other” And all the witches began to speak over each other, clearly not realizing what they were doing.

Rio and you heard clearly when Agatha demanded to be shown the rules to see if it actually said that and you couldn’t help but share an amused look with her,

Rio shook her head smiling and sticking her tongue out a little, you tried to hide your laugh but you couldn’t, Agatha realized who was laughing and she looked at you, you were next to her left and Rio was next to you.

“What?” Agatha asked with feigned innocence, and you just shrugged your shoulders.

“What is so funny doll?” Agatha asked again and came closer to you to caress your hair, you unconsciously leant into her touch, and let her guide you to rest your head on her chest.

“I love the way you look in those clothes” She commented dangerously close to your ear witch a husky voice.

“Not the time for that” You replied amused, you had to focus on passing the trial.

“Shall we start?” Agatha seemed to tense and you saw the way she started to swallow, it was obvious that she was nervous, the teen sat on the floor and the other witches started to do the same forming a circle.

“Hey, are you alright?” You asked her while she squeezed your hands, you felt the way she pulled you closer to her, and you happily leant into her touch.

“I will be alright, don’t worry” She said to you in a whisper.

“Rio and I are here for you, you know?” You replied back at her and she nodded with a smile in her face.

“I know, thank you, I love you so much” Agatha said near your ear and she pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get started” She said, you did not notice the way Agatha nodded at Rio, Rio understood and Agatha took your hand one more time to hand you to Rio, Agatha gave you one last squeeze and Rio took your hand in hers, the brown-eyed woman smiled reassuringly at Agatha and put her arm around your waist, she pushed you slightly and placed you next to her right, while Agatha sat next to you as well, leaving you in the middle of the two of them.

Everyone on the room put their hands on the board and waited for Agatha to start, when her hands got separated from the board you really got scared and quickly turned your head to look at Rio, she saw your worried expression and quickly mouthed a “Don´t worry” and smiled slightly at you.

“She´s scared” Commented Rio while you sighed in relief, for a moment you had thought your girlfriend had been possessed, Rio then patted the sit ordering Agatha to come and sit again.

“Do not do that, it was funny, but you got her scared” Rio said to Agatha and nodding towards you, while the blue-eyed woman sat back next to you and she gave you a shy smile.

“Sorry love, I thought it was funny” The older witch commented with an apologetical look.

Sighing you just shook your head and slightly bumped your shoulders against her.

“It alright, I just do not want anything to happen to you” Rio then looked back at her and nodded, she felt the same even if she found her little joke funny.

“Alright” The blue-eyed woman proceeded to place her hands on the board and everyone did the same, you were not going to lie, feeling the board moving so hard and faster made your heart beat in fear, you never had played it and it actually made you feel scared, but you knew you had to do it in order to pass the trial.

“Punish Agatha” Was what the board said and you quickly felt yourself getting tense, but before someone could actually understand what was happening you heard Agatha yelling at everyone to stop it and you were not sure what or how it happened but Agatha got her hands off the board and you panicked.

The scream that was all over the place, was so loud and it pierced you ears.

You saw her getting to the floor and she covered her ears just as everyone else did, but you were still worried of what could happen to your girlfriend since it was her trial, so you uncovered you ears not caring if the loud sound made your ears hurt and went to kneel next to Agatha to check if she was fine and did not have any type of physical wounds.

Agatha noticed your face contorted in pain, but her heart melted when she realized you were checking her to make sure she was not hurt, out of instinct she uncover her ears and made sure your ears were covered using her own hands, even in the middle of the chaos she still managed to show you how much she cared for you.

You were so lost in her eyes that you did not even notice when things calmed down, the scream could not be heard anymore and the things flying around the room were already scattered all over the floor.

“Is it over?” Your eyes stared to examine the room and the witches around you, getting closer and closer, what happened?

“Sorry y/n, but it seems like in order to pass this trial we have to punish Agatha” Jenn was looking right at Agatha, her gaze not darting somewhere else.

“There has to be another way” The teen said out loud and you agreed with him.

“Wait no! You cannot just decide that you are going to hurt her” You said to the three witches in front of you, your pleading eyes started to get glossy, they could not actually think that this was their way out right? Even if the ghost or whatever was wanted that, there had to be another way.

The teen looked horrified about what could happen, it was clearly they were not thinking clearly and with Rio walking faster towards the two of you, he panicked as well.

“I am sorry but you have to move” Jenn said with what you thought maybe, just maybe was guilty.

Alice was unsure, they were not actually going to do something to Agatha right? She looked at Lilia who had the same unsure look on her face.

Your pleading eyes with tears about to be shed made them feel unsure on what to do, they knew that you loved her and you would not be able to do anything to her, but what if that was what the ghost wanted them to do?

Before they got the time to get closer to you Rio appeared in front of the two of you and got her knife out of wherever she hid it, you were always amazed because whenever you saw her getting something out of her pockets or her clothes, you never really understood where she hid all of the things she carried with her.

“No one is touching Agatha, nor y/n” She said with a firm tone.

Agatha caressed your back and nodded at you, she gave you a reassuring smile and squeezed your hand.

“It´s alright, don´t worry, nothing is going to happen to me, ok” She pressed her forehead against you and you nodded, Agatha then stood up and came up behind Rio.

“Listen, we can talk about it and see what other options we have, let´s not get wild” She said trying to be reasonable, but then a sound was heard from your spot, and everyone turned to where the sound had come from.

“Where is she?” The teen asked with his eyes wide open, the witches started to turn themselves around looking for you.

“Sweetheart? Where are you?” Agatha asked out loud, and everyone started to move to different directions trying to see if they could catch a glimpse of where were you.

“We have to find her! She was right there and the next second she was not, how is that even possible?”  Your girlfriend Agatha started to panic, it was something weird when it came to her, being panicked was not a state she was used to, but when it come to you or Rio, she could not help but worry more than anything.

“Hey, look at me, we are going to find her, she could not have gotten too far” Rio reassured her and Agatha nodded, she was right, you could not have gotten too far.

They all gasped in unison when the lights went out.

“Hey, we were not going to actually hurt your girlfriend Agatha, just come out wherever you are” The potions which announced while she examined the room.

The teen started to look for something that they could use to get some light, and when he found a lamp, he looked pleased, now it would be easier to look for you.

“Hey, does anyone hear that” Lilia inquired and the teen felt something that had touched his shoulder, he visibly tensed and pointed the lamp towards the ceiling.

The scream that came after seeing you was inevitable, the other witches looked up as well and started to scream as well.

“Oh my god, what happened to her?” Jenn screamed and walked back until she hit one of the walls.

“Agatha get her out of the ceiling!” Alice yelled at her.

“I would if I had my powers!” Agatha yelled back; her face was full of worry.

“She is going to get hurt” Lillia declared while covering her mouth with her hand.

What they were not waiting, was that you jumped from the ceiling, landing with a hard thud against the floor.

“Is she hurt? Someone please check her!” Alice yelled again

“She is not y/n” The teen screamed when suddenly your body got up from the fall and started to contort your body, he squirmed and crawled back to try to protect himself from what he was seeing in front him.

“She is possessed for real” The teen was horrified, the look you had on your face was clearly not something he was expecting, he just hoped that neither of you would get hurt.

“Someone needs to grab her!” Someone in the back yelled, but due to everyone screaming the teen did not even recognize whose voice it was.

“No! wait, she could get hurt! No one is touching her!” Rio glanced menacingly.

“Then how can we help her?!” Agatha asked desperately, she came to place herself next to Rio, the two of them wanted to actually try and do something, maybe catch you and bring you to the center, but the way your body was contorting made them afraid that they could hurt you more.

“Oh my god guys, why are her bones sounding like that?” The teen screamed out of fear at the sound of your cracking bones, you were getting too close to him when suddenly your body for some seconds went limp and crashed against the floor, they were going to go and help you but after only some seconds your body stood up again crashing against the wall, Lilia was quick to get the power back and in a blink of an eye, you disappear again.

“Where is she? Where is she?” Rio looked several times around the room trying to see if you were again on the ceiling.

Before the withes could have more time to look for you, they saw something that looked like white fog forming in front of the stairs.

“That is a ghost, I hate ghosts” Rio said completely angered, Agatha was next to her looking at it with her brows furrowed, where had you gone?

What Agatha saw next made her gasp; her mother had materialized in front of them.

“Mother?” Agatha asked not believing what her eyes were watching.

A sound caught their attention and they looked up to see what was going upstairs, there you were, Agatha sighed in relief but after the worry could be gone, it took over her again, you were trying to stand up, grabbing your left arm with your right hand, you were crying, your sobs were loud enough for them to hear.

“What did you do to her?” Rio asked angrily taking a step forward, and Agatha did the same.

“You have to keep walking the witches´ road without her” The ghost of Evanora Harkness said to them.

Everyone gasped in shock.

“No way, we are not leaving her with you, she comes with us” Agatha said with a firm tone, never hesitating.

“Leave this girl with me, then you will be free to go” The ghost replied.

Lilia, Alice, Jenn and the teen looked at each other, they were not going to leave you there with her, and if they also needed to fight a ghost even if they did not how, they would do it.

“Taking one of the people I love the most?” Agatha laughed bitterly at the thought.

“There is no way we are leaving her with you!” Rio replied back at the ghost with a threatening tone in her voice.

“We are not letting her stay with her, you hear me? She is going to leave with us Agatha” Rio assured the blue-eyed woman.

“It is your time to pay for what you have done, you were born evil, you should not have a chance at love, I repeat, leave her with me, and you can go” Agatha clenched her jaw, Rio who was next to her was fuming, even if they wanted to do something, what could they do against a ghost?

You were crying, your whole body in pain, you were sure you were going to have bruises, you could not even lift your arm and you wondered if maybe it had been broken.

You heard everything Evanora said to her, that she was evil, but that was not true, Agatha was not evil, she was a misunderstood witch who did not have anyone to back her up and show her to control her powers, and even if you were in pain you would let your girlfriend know that her mother was not right.

“Do not listen to her Agatha, we know you are not evil, you are worthy of love” You managed to say between sobs, Agatha did not have time to answer to you, because her mother spoke again.

“I will not repeat myself” The ghost announced.

Agatha could not help the tears falling from her face, it was all her fault you were in pain, her own fault that you had been possessed by her mother, she was being punished for al the things she had done in the past, seeing you in so much pain was breaking he heart, Rio was so mad, it infuriated her seeing you and Agatha both in pain.

Before they could do something else, the ghost disappeared and they watch the way your body started to contort again, you came crawling down the stairs, the witches watched in horror.

“Leave her alone” The witch with the red strands on her hair pushed the teen, Agatha and Rio to the side, all of them saw Alice throwing her powers at you.

“Don´t hurt her!” Agatha shouted ready to go and push Alice away from you, but the teen and Rio stopped her, and watched they way your body return to your normal form, the paleness leaving your skin, and the white fog dissipated.

After some minutes Alice stopped, and you felt to the floor with a loud thud, you quickly started to groan in pain, trying to get up from the floor.

Agatha and Rio ran towards you to help you stand up.

“It hurts so much” You said to them still crying, Agatha could not take in how much pain you were, she did not want to hurt you more, but they needed to check your body.

“I know sweetheart, we know it hurt but we have to touch you to check your body alright?” Rio whispered to you in a reassuring way, it pained her too much too see you suffering.

They tried to help you stand up, but the pain in your body was too much, Agatha could see the bruises forming on your legs and on your arms, and seeing the way your arm had taken a really weird position, she knew it was broken.

“Baby, can you tell us where it hurts?” You heard Rio asking you, her voice sounded a little bit shaky.

“My arm, is what hurts the most” Yous said between sobs, you wanted the pain to stop, but you knew that even healing yourself was going to hurt a lot.

“I think… I think I can try to heal it but, but I am scared, it is going to hurt so much” Agatha turned her head to look at Rio, she closed her eyes, your sobs made her so hard to maintain a hard façade as always.

“Listen, we are here with you, we are not letting you go, you can take my hand and squeeze it as hard as you want, alright?” Agatha said before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Rio placed herself next to Agatha, the blue-eyed woman placed you on her lap, and Rio put her hands on your back, caressing you up and down.

The witches standing in front of you, could not also take the sight, the teen had to look away, he could not stand seeing you crying from pain, and the way your arm was positioned, made him feel uneasy.

Lilia was holding Alice´s hand, watching with glossy eyes, they could not believe that you were the one that had got hurt, Jenn wanted to do something to help you ease the pain, but nothing came to her mind.

 You clung to Agatha´s shirt, and focused hard on the pain you were feeling, Rio never stopped running her hands up and down on your back, trying to soothe you and waiting the pain would stop.

“Everything will be alright, you are going to be fine, we love you so much” Agatha said into your ear, you were trembling and she hated so much that she could not anything.

After several minutes of sobbing harder, you felt you arm getting back to its normal position, your magic had worked, the powers accommodating the bones, putting them in their normal place, Agatha was caressing your legs with her free hands and noticed the bruises disappearing.

With one final breath, you felt yourself relaxing, the pain going away completely, and when Agatha and Rio were sure you were not hurting anymore, a door opened, all of you looked at it.

“We passed the trial” The teen said out loud, they were relieved you had stopped crying, but felt immensely guilty for not have been able to do anything to help you somehow.

 “We have to go sweetheart” She squeezed your shoulders lovingly, and the two of your grilfriends helped you to stand up.

Agatha quickly pulled you closer to her, her left hand on your waist, Rio put her hand on your shoulders, afraid of letting you walk alone.

They started to walk towards the door to get ready to leave and go back to the road.

“Alice” Agatha called for her when she started to walk in front of you, she turned quickly to look at you and to the other two witches in front of her.

“Thank you, for saving her” Agatha said with a soft look on her face, it was sincere, Agatha sounded sincere for the first time since the have arrived at the road, and smiled at her.

“It is alright, you do not have to thank me, I really wish I had done more” Alice gave the three of you an apologetically smile.

“You saved me” You replied at her.

“It was more than enough, Alice” Agatha let her know, Rio gave her a nod and the shorter witch smiled, it was a big smile, she turned herself around and started to walk back towards the door.

The three of you were the last standing in the room right in front of the door that would take you back to the road.

Agatha made you stop and you looked at her, with a frown on your face.

“Listen, I, I am sorry, it was my fault, because of me, because of what I have done in the past, you got hurt, and, none of us could do something to actually help you, I feel so-“ You abruptly interrupted her.

“Don´t blame yourself please, it was not your fault, please stop blaming yourself” You wiped her tears out of her face before talking again.

“I would never blame you for anything, I am fine, we are fine, we passed the trial, I am happy nothing happened to you” Before you could continue speaking, you felt her arm wrapping you in a hug, she passed her arms around your waist and you heard her cry, she loved you with her entire heart, and she could not stop blaming herself, what if something worse had happened to you?

Rio went to place herself next to Agatha and started to caress her back before looking at you.

“Hey, it´s alright, I would never, really never, let anyone hurt any of you, I would break the rules for you, so you can rest assure Agatha, that I won´t let anything else happen to her, alright?” Rio knew what to say, because you felt Agatha getting relaxed and she sighed.

“We are going to keep an eye on you, we are going to make sure noting else happens to you, we swear” Agatha commented while looking into your eyes, and Rio nodded quickly.

Smiling at them, the three of you started to walk again, ready to face whatever would be next, Agatha and Rio let you in first, and it made you laugh, you were not sure what was going to happen, or if something really worst was waiting for you outside, but what you were sure, was that with the two of your girlfriends taking care of you, you would be fine, and that was alright, you knew that if anything happened, Rio and Agatha would be there for you, ready to fight against anything that would even just threaten you, so you smiled pulled yourself closer to them when you stepped outside of that place, Agatha came next to you and again she pressed her hand on your waist, and Rio put her hand on your shoulder, they started to guide you to the group that was waiting for you in the middle of the road, and you smiled, you were going to be alright, no matter what.

When you got closer to the group, they heard the leaves been stepped on by someone and they quickly turned their head to look at you, they all had smiles on their faces.

You saw the way the teen turned his body completely towards you and he opened his arms, the closer you got the more you noticed his puffy eyes, when you arrived in front of him, you quickly opened your arms as well and let him engulf you in a hug.

“Thank god you are fine” He said while the two of you slightly swung due to the teen moving to the sides, you giggled and separated yourself to look at him.

“I am fine because Alice saved me” You replied to him and realized all of the witches had come closer and were standing really close to you and the teen hugging you.

You looked to your left to see Alice wiping quickly one tear that was running down her face, and tried to act as if she did not want to cry, she quickly cleared her throat and saw how Lilia and Jenn were smiling at her, Lilia put her hand on Alice´s shoulder and caressed it lovingly.

You chuckled and walked closer to Alice until you were standing next to her, she looked up from the floor to look at you and she shrugged her shoulders.

“No big deal, it was what anyone else would have done, so we´re cool-“ Before she could continue talking you hugged her, your arms around her shoulders.

“Thank you so much Alice, you really are a protection witch, please never doubt that, you are amazing” Your words had touched her heart and she hugged you more, she nodded and when you looked back at her face you noticed she had left the tears ran freely down her face.

“Thank you y/n” Alice replied back at you.

“I am sorry I, I just let you there, in pain, I, I should have done something else, try to look for something to ease the pain but-“ You quickly took Jenn´s hands on yours, you knew she was not really keen on physical contact so you tried to respect that about her.

“It´s alright, you don´t have to be sorry, it was something that was out of your hands, I am grateful that you were able to save him and stop the bleeding, and that´s more than enough, thank you about that, we did not have the time to thank you for that” You said to her smiling, Jenn nodded and caressed the back of your hand.

“Can I get a hug? Everyone seems to love your hugs, I wonder what is so special about them” You nodded laughing and got yourself close to her to hug her, she always smelled amazingly, her perfume seemed to never actually leave her.

“Oh darling, I am so happy you are fine, I cannot imagine what Agatha and Rio would have ended up doing if something happened to you” Lilia pulled you closer to her after you separated yourself from Jenn, and you let her hug you while caressing your back, Lilia then took your hands in hers, and looked straight into your eyes.

“You are so important to everyone, do not ever let yourself think you do not matter alright?” She said to you with a firm tone, yet it was soft at the same time, you could only nod and your eyes filled with tears.

Agatha and Rio looked at the scene in front of them, and Agatha could only think that no one was going to let you get hurt, if for any reason Rio and her were not able to actually protect you, they knew they still had a coven that would do anything to try and protect you as well.

“It looks that you will have to start being kinder to them” Rio said to her with a smirk but she actually meant it.

“Shut up” Agatha said while pushing her slightly in a playful way.

“But you are right, we are a coven after all” Agatha commented while the two of them got close to you and placed each one of them to your sides, both of their hands on your waist.

“We still have to keep on walking, let´s go” Agatha caressed your back again, and while everyone nodded and continued to walk, you couldn’t help the smile on your face from getting bigger, maybe this would be the time for Agatha to start trusting in others, apart from only trusting in you and Rio, but you would still have a lot of time In which you would be able to help Agatha with that, right now, you still had a road to face, and you had never felt so safe and ready to face whatever that would appear.

After all, you had your girlfriends to take care of you, and a whole coven that now, looked after each other.

[furioussheepluminary]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝

Pairing: vampire!Felix x afab!reader, strangers to potential lovers, vampire au

synopsis: to prove that you are once again always the brave one, you take one a dare. But meeting a cursed attractive vampire wasn't part of the deal.

Warnings: blood, angst?, curses, Felix falls in love easily (esp. with blood), but hes a meanie, dead people

A/n: this was a request made a while ago by a beautiful angel that I can't remember..but I know it was a request 😔 I'm sorry love! Please enjoy the story as it's my first time writing a supernatural au even though it's not my type. If you have extra eyes for errors, no you don't.

It all started with a bonfire and a bottle of cheap vodka.

The night was unusually cold for early autumn, and the wind that howled through the trees felt almost like whispers brushing against the skin. The fire cracked in the center of the clearing, surrounded by seven dare-hungry souls seeking thrills in a town where nothing exciting ever happened. Except for the one thing no one dared talk about—except in jest, when the alcohol flowed and the night felt invincible. The abandoned mansion at the edge of Marrow’s Hollow.

“It’s just an old ruin,” one of the boys, Devin, said, passing the bottle. “Creepy? Sure. Haunted? Nah. You’d die of boredom before any ghost got you.”

“But people have died there,” Margo whispered, her voice trembling just enough to sound like a challenge rather than fear. “Five kids from Cresthill went in last year. Never came back.”

“Because they ran off to the city. Typical runaway story,” someone laughed, brushing it off.

Then came the dare. Drunk on adrenaline, firelight, and fermented courage.

“Y/N,” Margo grinned, eyes glittering in the dark. “You’re always bragging about how brave you are. How about you prove it?”

Y/N raised a brow, the fire’s glow casting sharp shadows across her face. “Oh? And how exactly do I do that?”

“Spend the night in the mansion.”

The group erupted in shocked laughter, some clapping, others gasping, but all eyes were now on her.

“You’re kidding,” she scoffed. “That place is sealed off.”

“Nope,” Devin replied, digging into his backpack and pulling out a rusted old key. “Found this in my grandpa’s shed. He was a cop back when the town tried to shut the place down. This opens the back gate.” The air shifted then. Like something had turned to listen.

“The rules are simple,” Margo continued. “Go inside before midnight. Stay until sunrise. No phone. Just you, your flashlight, and whatever you find inside.” Everyone expected her to say no.

But Y/N smirked, heart racing with the thrill of being challenged. “Fine. I’ll go.”

None of them knew she’d return with eyes wide, blood on her leg, and a name carved into her skin.

Felix.

She packed her bag as the sun dipped below the hills, smearing the sky in shades of bruised violet and blood-orange. No phone—part of the dare. They claimed it was cheating, that the spirits “didn’t like tech.” Instead, Y/N grabbed a flashlight, a small notebook, two protein bars, a lighter, a flask of water, and a silver pocketknife she didn’t usually carry. Just in case. Her heart thundered like a drum, but her face remained calm, stoic. She’d accepted the dare. She wasn’t backing out. By the time she reached the edge of Marrow’s Hollow, the sky had turned black, and the wind carried the sharp scent of decaying leaves and something fouler, metallic, damp, like blood soaked into ancient wood. Her boots crunched over dried twigs and gravel as the path narrowed, twisting through skeletal trees that clawed at her jacket like they wanted to drag her back.

The mansion loomed in the distance like a corpse propped upright. Gothic spires stabbed the sky, and its shattered windows stared outward like blind, furious eyes. The iron gates stood crooked, rusted with time and something darker. Moss clung to the stone fence that wrapped around the property like a noose.

That’s when she saw them.

The graves.

Dozens no, hundreds of them. Scattered around the mansion in irregular rows, half-swallowed by the overgrown earth. Some headstones were cracked down the middle, others too weathered to read, and some… disturbingly fresh. The dirt on a few was still unsettled, as if the earth hadn’t finished claiming what was inside. Her breath caught in her throat as she counted at least seven graves marked only by wooden stakes, their surfaces smeared with what looked like dried crimson.

She swallowed.

“Just theatrics,” she muttered to herself. “Someone’s sick idea of a prank.”

The beam of her flashlight trembled as her hand shook, breath shallow, every instinct screaming to turn back—but she forced herself to step further into the mansion. The air inside was colder, as though the house itself had forgotten what warmth felt like. The scent of mildew, rotting wood, and something iron-like clung to her lungs, thick and suffocating.

Her footsteps echoed through the empty, crumbling foyer. A grand staircase loomed ahead, shrouded in shadow, its once-elegant banister now splintered and dark. She panned the flashlight upward, slowly.

That’s when she saw it.

Hanging upside down like some twisted bat from the rafters, a figure motionless. Pale skin, platinum-blond hair matted with streaks of red, arms hanging limp, face partially obscured by the tangled mess of bloodstained mesh fabric. At first, she thought it was a corpse strung up in some sick ritual. But then—the light caught his face.

She didn’t scream.

Not yet.

His eyes snapped open.

Crimson.

Not the dull, dead kind of red, but burning like fire and fury trapped behind his irises. Y/N gasped, the sound too loud in the dead silence of the house. Then he moved. In one fluid, inhumanly fast motion, the figure dropped from the ceiling—landing directly in front of her with a soundless grace that chilled her blood.

She screamed and fell backward, scrambling on the cold, dusty floor. Her flashlight clattered away, spinning wild beams of light across the walls. Her hands scraped against jagged floorboards as she kicked herself back until her spine slammed into the wall behind her.

Trapped. Frozen. He was crouched in front of her now, head tilted slightly, hair casting jagged shadows across his face. His mouth curled slowly into a smirk, fangs glinting in the dim light, and he leaned in—too close.

“Why did you come here?” he whispered, voice like velvet dipped in danger.

And Y/N… couldn’t speak. He was crouched in front of her like a predator—still, coiled, every inch of him humming with danger. His head tilted slowly to the side, platinum hair falling messily across one glowing eye, the other hidden in shadow. His lips curled into something that might have been a smile… if it weren’t so cruel.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice low and velvety, but with an edge like a blade dragged across bone. “This place doesn’t welcome the living.”

Y/N’s mouth was dry, her chest heaving. She could barely form words. “I—I was dared… I didn’t think it was real. I didn’t think you were real.” He leaned in, so close now she could see the blood dried along his jawline, the faint twitch of his lip as if the word ‘dare’ had amused him in some feral, irritated way.

“A dare?” His voice deepened, colder. “You risked your life because some idiot told you to? For fun?”

Her breath caught as he rose, standing over her now. “Leave. While you still have your limbs attached,” he growled. “Or stay, and regret it for however long I let you live.”

She stared up at him, trembling but unmoving. Her body was screaming to run—but her heart refused. Something in her, deep and stubborn, latched onto the way his voice wavered on the edge of warning and loneliness. She could’ve crawled away. But she didn’t.

“No,” she whispered.

Silence. The air thickened around them like molasses. His eyes narrowed, burning red. Then—pain. Sharp and sudden. He dug his nails into her thigh, not just pressing but sinking in—deep enough to tear through her jeans and into flesh. She cried out, her back arching from the wall, her hands scrabbling at his wrist in shock and agony.

“Do you want to die?” he snarled, voice close to her ear now. “Or are you just this stupid?”

Tears welled in her eyes from the pain, but still—she shook her head. “I just… I couldn’t leave. Not yet.”

His expression flickered something dangerous, but almost curious. He stared at her a long time, then slowly removed his hand, his fingers now painted in her blood. He brought them up, inspecting the crimson smeared on his skin with idle interest.

“Not yet?” he echoed, voice low, dangerous.

Y/N winced as she sat up straighter against the cold wall, her hands trembling against the floor. “I-I have to stay the night. That was the dare. I can’t leave until sunrise.” At that, the vampire actually chuckled.

A dark, guttural sound slipped from his throat, followed by a slow shake of his head as he crouched again in front of her this time more relaxed, his elbows resting on his knees. “You humans are so entertaining,” he drawled, tone thick with sarcasm. “Stay the night? What is this, some sadistic version of hide-and-seek?”

She didn’t answer.

He leaned in, eyes flicking downward and that’s when he saw it. Blood. A slow, lazy smile stretched across his lips, revealing just a hint of fang. “Oh…” he purred, as if delighted by a surprise dessert, “You're bleeding.”

Y/N followed his gaze in horror to the gash on her thigh—right where he’d dug his nails in earlier. It was deeper than she’d realized. Crimson soaked through the fabric of her pants, trailing in a warm line down her skin.

He didn’t ask permission.

He slid forward smoothly, his hand gripping her injured leg—firm, cold, and possessive. Before she could pull away, his head dipped low. His lips met her thigh, and she gasped—whether in pain or shock, she didn’t know. His tongue traced the blood in a slow, deliberate motion, warm and terrifyingly intimate. A groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against her skin.

“Sweet,” he murmured. “So very… sweet.”

Y/N’s heart thudded violently in her chest, panic twisting with something else, something she didn’t want to name. She finally found her voice, strained and fragile. “W-Who are you…?”

He pulled back just enough to look at her, licking the remaining blood from his bottom lip, the tip of his fang glinting in the dim light. “You don’t know who I am?” he asked finally, voice hushed, but heavy with something ancient and cruelly patient. His crimson gaze locked with hers.

“Felix,” he said, his voice low, intimate. “The thing that haunts this house. The monster they warned you about.”

He leaned in closer, his lips nearly brushing her ear.

“And darling… you just walked into my cage.”

Felix didn’t pull away completely. He stayed close, crouched like a predator who wasn’t done playing with its prey. “You want to know how I became this?” he asked suddenly, his voice lower, weightier. His eyes didn’t glow as brightly now. There was something old in them—haunted, even.

Y/N swallowed hard but nodded.

He leaned back slightly, hands resting on his thighs. “A curse,” he said simply. “From someone I trusted. Loved.” He tilted his head, lips curling into a bitter smile. “She didn’t like that I left her. So she took everything from me. My soul. My time. My death. Gave me this… thirst instead.” His nails idly traced a line on the dusty wooden floor. “She said I’d rot in this mansion forever—feeding, waiting, watching. Everyone who comes through here ends up in the ground.” He glanced at her then, eyes flicking to the window, to the graves just beyond the overgrown glass.

“I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come in.”

Y/N kept her face as neutral as she could, though her heart was hammering in her chest.

She breathed in shakily, brushing her hair back from her face. “Well, I didn’t come for you,” she muttered. “I came to explore the house.” Felix blinked, stunned for a second then broke into a low, amused laugh. He stood slowly, fluid and graceful, brushing the dust from his pants. “That so?” he said. “And here I thought I was the main attraction.”

He stepped back, letting the distance grow between them. “Go on then,” he said, voice still rich with mocking humor. “Explore.”

Y/N’s leg throbbed, the cut still fresh. She gathered her bag and stood, wincing as she tested her weight on the wounded limb. The stairs loomed ahead, worn and shadowed. She took a step. Felix’s voice drifted behind her, casual. “Need help limping, sweetheart?”

“No,” she bit out, without looking back.

Her hand gripped the railing, jaw clenched as she pulled herself up step by step, trying not to let him see the pain with every movement. She was determined, stubborn, stupid she knew all of it. But she wasn’t going to run. Not yet. The stairs creaked under her weight. She could hear his footsteps below but when she turned, he wasn’t there. She took another step.

He was suddenly behind her—no sound, no warning—his breath ghosting the back of her neck. She spun around, startled, but he had already vanished again.

“Ghosts aren’t the only ones who haunt,” his voice echoed faintly from the upstairs corridor.

She gritted her teeth and kept walking. Room after room stretched out before her each one dust-covered, untouched by time yet heavy with it. Cobwebs swayed in the cold air. Mirrors were cracked and warped. A child's doll sat in a corner, its porcelain face fractured like it had screamed too long.

And every time she stepped into a room… he was there. By the window. On the ceiling. In the reflection of a broken mirror. Watching and following.

She tried to pretend she didn’t see him. Tried to act like the shadows weren’t moving with him. But her fingers trembled on the edge of the doorframe as she entered the master bedroom. She whispered to herself, more for courage than belief.

“I’m just here to explore the house…”

A deep chuckle echoed from the wall.

“Keep telling yourself that, little lamb.”

The room she finally settled in was at the end of a long corridor its once grand double doors hung slightly ajar, one barely hanging onto its hinges. The air inside was thick, still, like it hadn’t been stirred in decades. Dust swirled in lazy circles through the beam of her flashlight as she hobbled in, limping more heavily now. She didn’t care. Her thigh burned with each step, but her body was too exhausted to keep moving.

The room had a tattered armchair near the fireplace, a velvet couch that had long since given in to mold, and faded wallpaper that peeled at the corners. Moonlight filtered in through shattered glass, casting silver puddles across the wooden floor.

Y/N slumped into the armchair with a pained sigh, letting her head fall back. Her fingers grazed the torn fabric of her jeans where his nails had sliced her earlier. It was still bleeding. Dull, hot pain flared through her nerves, but she welcomed it. It meant she was still alive.

Still human.

She didn’t hear him enter, but she knew. The air shifted. Warmer. Closer. She opened her eyes, and sure enough Felix was there, lounging across the arm of the ruined couch like he’d been waiting for her all along. His boots were kicked up, his dark eyes locked onto her, lazy but alert.

“Done exploring already?” he teased.

“Shut up,” she muttered, leaning her head against the chair’s backrest. “I’m bleeding and tired.”

He smirked. “You should’ve left when you had the chance.”

“I already told you. I’m not going anywhere.”

A beat passed. Silence, except for the ticking of an old grandfather clock down the hall.

“Do you ever get bored?” she asked suddenly. Her voice was softer now, tired but curious. “I mean… being here. Alone.” His smirk faded just slightly. “Sometimes.”

“You have friends?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him. Felix’s gaze shifted to the ceiling, then back to her. “I did. Once. But time… time isn’t kind. Not to mortals. Not to memories.”

There was something sad beneath his words something that slipped between the cracks of his usual sarcasm. Y/N let the silence stretch again before speaking. “I had a brother,” she said quietly. “He used to dare me into dumb things like this. Climb towers. Break into abandoned schools. He died a few years ago.”

Felix didn’t say anything. He just watched her, expression unreadable now.

“I guess I kept doing it. The dares. The exploring. Because I didn’t want to forget the rush.”

He leaned forward slightly, interested now, his elbows resting on his knees. “And vampires,” she said, a breath of a laugh in her voice, “I always thought they were… I don’t know. Lonely. Tragic. Kind of romantic in a twisted way.”

His head tilted slowly. “Romantic?” he echoed, something sharp glittering in his eyes. She nodded. “Yeah. There’s something sad and beautiful about someone who can live forever but never really live again. Always hungry. Always chasing something they can’t have.”

Felix didn’t move for a long moment. Then he rose slowly, his movements fluid, predatory.

“You’re strange,” he said quietly, stepping toward her. “Most people scream. Cry. Beg me not to kill them. And you… sit here bleeding, talking about tragic romance.” She watched him approach, heart thudding loud in her chest, but she didn’t flinch. Not this time. He crouched in front of her, his face close to hers again.

“Careful,” he whispered. “You’re starting to sound like someone I might like.” And though every instinct told her to be terrified, something in her stirred drawn in, caught in the storm of his presence.

She didn’t look away. “Maybe that’s the problem,” she whispered back.

The silence between them grew heavier. Not awkward—no, something more dangerous than that. It pulsed in the air like a heartbeat, slow and charged. Y/N shifted in the armchair, the dull ache in her thigh impossible to ignore, but what really unsettled her was the way Felix was watching her now. His eyes weren’t just curious anymore they were hungry.

His tongue ran along the sharp edge of his teeth, deliberate and slow. “Do you want me to take care of that wound?” Her breath hitched. The question lingered in the air, heavy with implication.

“You mean like… disinfect it?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

He tilted his head, a crooked smirk playing on his lips. “Not exactly.” There was a long pause. Her heart pounded against her ribs, but then she nodded small, cautious. “Okay.”

His smile deepened, something dark and pleased glinting in his crimson gaze. “You’re brave. Or reckless.” He crossed the room with a smooth, predatory grace and knelt before her. Without asking, his fingers ghosted over her torn jeans. Then, with a soft rip, he tugged at the fabric, exposing more of her thigh. The skin was slick with blood, the wound still fresh and tender. She winced, but didn’t pull away.

His lips hovered above the gash.

“This might sting,” he murmured, almost like a tease. Then his tongue touched her skin.

It was warm. Slow. Precise. He licked up the blood in gentle, deliberate strokes like he was savoring every drop. His hands anchored her leg, firm but not painful. And when he moaned softly against her flesh, she shivered. “God,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to look up at her. “You taste sweet. Like dusk and danger.”

Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were glowing brighter now, pupils blown wide with something that looked disturbingly close to desire. And still, he didn’t move away.

He stared at her, lips stained crimson. Then his voice dropped, lower, almost pained. “You should stay away from me, you know.” She blinked, lips parting to ask why, but he spoke first—his voice raw, quiet, like a confession.

“Because if you don’t… I’m going to fall in love with you.”

Y/N’s heart stopped.

Before she could say a word, Felix stood, licking the last trace of blood from his thumb. His eyes lingered on her for a second longer searching, maybe hoping she’d stop him. But she didn’t. And he was gone. The door creaked shut behind him, and she was left alone, her wound clean, her pulse racing, and her mind echoing with the words she hadn’t expected to hear from the monster in the mansion.

…

The room was warm when Y/N stirred, the kind of warmth that only sunlight could bring the soft kind that seeps through worn-out curtains and brushes against the skin like a memory. She blinked slowly, her lashes fluttering, head heavy and sore. For a moment, she forgot where she was. Then the dull pain in her thigh reminded her.

She sat up, realizing she was no longer in the chair from last night. She was on a bed now, tucked beneath a thick, dusty quilt that smelled faintly of old wood and faint cologne. Her eyes darted around the room. The lamp was off. Her bag was still against the wall. But the window to the side was cracked open, golden light pouring in. The sun had risen.

She gasped and threw the covers off, adrenaline kicking in.

“I overslept—damn it,” she muttered, quickly limping to her things and throwing everything into her backpack with shaky hands. Her heart was racing not just from panic, but from everything that had happened. The wound on her leg was bandaged now—probably by him—and she didn’t know how to process the fact that a vampire had basically confessed to her hours ago.

As she zipped her bag shut, a voice from the darkest corner of the room, cloaked in shadow, interrupted her.

“You’re in a rush,” Felix said softly.

She startled, turning to the voice. The far corner was untouched by the sun’s rays, but his silhouette was unmistakable leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as if he’d been standing there for a while.

“How long have you been there?” she asked, breath catching.

He shrugged lazily, one brow lifted. “Since before you started dreaming. You talk in your sleep, you know.” Her cheeks flushed despite herself. “I didn’t mean to sleep in,” she said quickly, strapping her bag on. “I need to get going.” She turned to leave, but something about his silence made her pause. She glanced back and that’s when she noticed it.

He looked… sad. Not dramatically so. Just the subtle downturn of his lips, the slight slump of his shoulders, the way his eyes didn’t quite meet hers. It was the kind of sadness that came quietly, like a bruise blooming under the skin.

“I was just starting to love you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She froze. It wasn’t said with charm or seduction. It was said like it hurt to admit like every time he let himself feel, the wound from his past reopened. She turned fully, letting her bag fall from her shoulder, and stepped closer into the shade.

He looked different in the dark. The edge to him was softer, the menace stripped away. She hadn’t seen him fully before not like this. His skin was pale but not lifeless, like marble kissed with moonlight. His hair, tousled and shadow-drenched, framed his face like a halo of ink. And his eyes—those haunting red eyes—weren’t glowing now. They were watching her quietly, searching. She reached out, touching the sleeve of his shirt gently. “You say that like it’s a curse,” she said.

He gave a dry smile. “That’s because it is.”

Her breath hitched. Her fingers brushed his wrist, just barely, and still he didn’t pull away. He looked down at where she touched him, then back up at her face—taking her in like he was trying to memorize her.

“You really have to leave?” he asked, voice low.

She hated herself for saying it. The words slipped past her lips before she could stop them, fragile and foolish and far too human.

“I’ll come visit,” she whispered, eyes not quite meeting his. “Every other day… if you want.”

Felix didn’t answer at first. His red eyes remained unreadable, shadowed by the darkness of the corner he stood in. But the silence stretched, heavy and uncertain. Finally, he let out a low, dry laugh—one that barely sounded amused.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” she insisted, taking a step closer, heart hammering painfully in her chest. “I don’t break promises.” His eyes narrowed slightly, scanning her face for a hint of insincerity. Whatever he found, it seemed to shake him a little. His shoulders relaxed. Just a bit.

“I never got your name,” he said, quietly.

She blinked, realizing she never told him. “It’s Y/N.”

He repeated it softly under his breath, like tasting it on his tongue. Then he moved slow, deliberate, and with the kind of grace that didn’t belong to anything human. He stepped out of the shadows, careful not to touch the spill of sunlight on the floor. When he reached her, he stopped just a breath away. His hand came up, ghosting against her cheek before he leaned in and pressed his lips to it. A kiss; soft and fleeting but it lingered like heat.

When he pulled back, he hovered there, his lips close to hers. Close enough to feel her breath stutter against his mouth. His gaze dropped to her lips, then lifted back to her eyes, searching.

He didn’t want to overstep. Not after everything. Not when he wasn’t sure if she truly meant what she said.

So, he leaned in… slowly. Hesitant. Shy. A boy hiding beneath a monster’s skin.

And Y/N… Y/N closed the distance. Their lips met gently, mouths molding together like they were made for this one moment in time. It was cautious at first, full of question and fear, but it didn’t stay that way. Her hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, and he angled his head slightly, deepening the kiss with a hunger that had nothing to do with blood.

When he kissed her jaw, she tilted her head, giving him space. His lips found her neck.

She gasped softly as he trailed slow, reverent kisses down the side of her throat, each one more possessive than the last. When he found the spot just above her pulse, her breath hitched, and his lips paused there.

He inhaled sharply, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. Her blood sang to him.

His fangs throbbed with temptation. His hands tightened on her hips. But he pulled away just in time. He turned his face from her neck, lips parted, a shiver of restraint trembling through him.

���You need to go,” he said hoarsely, his voice thick with longing. “Now… before I forget how to be gentle.”

His eyes glowed faintly, raw with emotion and desire. And he stepped back into the safety of the shadows, watching her like a secret he was too afraid to keep.

“I’ll come back,” she promised again, softer this time, as if saying it any louder might break whatever fragile thing had just formed between them.

Felix didn’t respond right away. He stood a few steps behind her in the dim shadows of the mansion’s doorway, the place where the light ended and he could no longer follow. His red eyes were softer now, less hungry, less dangerous just… quietly watching her like he didn’t want to forget what she looked like. Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, her fingers trembling slightly as she turned away from him. Her legs still ached, the memory of pain clinging to her thigh, but she didn’t look back just yet. She didn’t trust herself to.

The wooden door creaked as she pushed it open, a harsh contrast to the soft silence behind her. Sunlight greeted her like a slap—too bright, too warm—reminding her she was back in the world that made sense. She stepped outside and paused on the stone steps of the mansion, the cold air brushing against her skin. Then slowly so slowly she turned around.

The building loomed behind her, still and ancient, its windows like tired, sun-dulled eyes. The vines clinging to the stone looked like veins frozen in place, and the old wood creaked under the wind’s touch. And there he was. Felix stood in the shadows, just behind the doorway, his form half-ghosted by the dark. He didn’t speak. He didn’t wave. He just watched her his head tilted ever so slightly, as if he was memorizing her all over again. There was something vulnerable in his stillness, like a statue that longed to move.

She offered him one last look, her eyes lingering on his, before finally, reluctantly, turning away.

Her footsteps were slow at first, each one echoing against the cracked stone path that led back to the world. Then, quicker. Further. Her heart pulled back with every step, but she didn’t stop.

And Felix… he stayed at the threshold, his fingers curled around the edge of the doorframe like he wanted to follow but couldn’t.

Not yet. Not in the sunlight. Not in the world she belonged to.

…

When YN finally reached the edge of town and stumbled through the gates of her dorm, the weight of the mansion still heavy on her, she was immediately met with wide eyes and frantic voices.

“YN?! Oh my God—what the hell—where were you?”

“You actually went through with it?”

“Are you okay? You’re bleeding!”

The voices of her friends swirled around her like a whirlwind. Arms guided her inside, and she was gently eased onto the common room couch, blankets thrown over her shoulders, questions raining down before she could even catch her breath.

She winced. “Guys, I’m fine—seriously.”

“Fine? You look like you just crawled out of a horror movie,” one of them said, pointing at the tear in her pants and bandaged wound. They demanded answers.

“What did you see in there?”

“Was the mansion really haunted?”

“Did something attack you?”

Y/N’s lips parted, her throat dry. She could still feel Felix’s lips brushing her neck, the ghost of his voice in her ear, the aching sweetness of his presence. But she couldn’t tell them that. They’d never believe her.

So she lied, believably.

“There were... graves,” she started, voice low and steady. “Dozens of them, some old, some more recent. The place is completely overgrown. Windows shattered, furniture still inside, like everyone left in a hurry.” Her friends leaned in.

“I think I tripped on one of the broken floorboards. It was dark I didn’t have a good flashlight. I cut my leg on something… maybe glass or rusted wood. I panicked, stayed in one of the rooms till sunrise, then came back.” They stared at her, wide-eyed.

“You stayed the night there alone?” Margo whispered, half in awe, half in horror.

She gave a small shrug, eyes lowered. “I didn’t really have a choice.”

None of them questioned her further not about the wound, not about the strange tiredness in her eyes, not about the way she kept glancing toward the window as if expecting someone or something to be there, watching.

She never mentioned Felix. Not his name. Not his eyes. Not his curse. That part... was hers alone.

@pixie-felix @pessimisticloather @necrozica @sh0dor1 @leeknow-minho2 @jitrulyslayyed @igotajuicyass @bbokvhs @katyxstay @maisyyyyyy @day138 @katchowbbie @imeverycliche @yoongiismylove2018 @morkleesgirl @rockstarkkami @alisonyus @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lillymochilover @idol-dream-catcher @iknow-uknow-leeknow @maxidential @ebnabi @ari-hwanggg @rossy1080 @hanniebunch @tricky-ritz

Check out my pinned if you want to be added to the taglist!

~kc 💗

[small-sinclair]

His Sun

Bo Sinclair x pregnant!reader

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

“Co’ere,” Bo says softly, his hand reaching out to you. There’s a gleam in his eye, something new to him. “Darlin’ rose, come closer?”

Absorbing the sunlight on your freckle kissed skin, it looked like you were gliding through the rays as if they were water. Though the wooden floors absorbed most of the light, you were still the brightest star in the universe. How did he get so lucky? What star fell from the sky and decided to spend its final light on him? If he could bask in your golden rays, he would die with his heart shimmering like cooper coil.

His hands were calloused as you took his, and he pulled you down for your back against his chest. Subconsciously, his hand reached around your growing bump as if he were protecting it from the dust of his own darkness.

“Six months in and you’re still as pretty as ever,” he drawls, kissing the top of your head. “Sugar, think they hear us talk? Hear your pretty voice an’ me going off?”

He shudders silently as your hand slipped over his. “I would like to think they do,” you answered, rubbing your thumb over his knuckle. “You nervous about the doctor’s appointment tomorrow?”

Huffing a breath, he buried his face between the corner of your jaw. He nods slowly as his other hand wrapped around your chest, squeezing you slightly. “They said twins, doll,” concern laced his words, “what if they’re not…if they…shit, I can’t think of stand the thought of they’re—“

“They won’t be like you or Vincent,” you reassured, running your other hand through his hair. Your fingers brushed the long, jagged scar on the back of his head, and it made him tense up and growl a warning. “Dr. Henrik—“

“What if he’s wrong?” He cuts your words off as he turns his head to look at you, but he stayed on your shoulder. “What if they’re connected? I can’t,” he tried to find his words in a scrambled notebook, “I don’t want my children to go through what Vinny an’ I did. I don’t wanna see’em get bullied for a scar or anything.”

You shifted slightly in his arms to see him better, and you lifted his face up. “Beauregard, listen,” you thumbed the scar on his chin. It was so old that it was nearly a foreign thing to his face but the pain still lingered. “Our children will know love and be loved because we love,” your words felt like a heavy yet warm hug to him, and he couldn’t help but believe in your words, “and you are not your parents. We aren’t like them.”

“Mama said—“

“She lied about calling you a monster,” you already knew what he was going to say, “because I see you, Bo. I see you.” Your lips brushed against his before claiming a small kiss. “I mean it when I say it. You’ll do great.”

The weight of the world rolled off his shoulders after your kiss and encouragement. You truly are a wishing star. “Thank you, darlin’,” he said, pulling you back in his to his heart. The uneasy barbed wires that stung his air and heart washed away. “If I keep gettin’ worried, just…just remind me, okay?”

“Okay,” you kisses his cheek then nestled into his warmth. “I love you, Bo.”

He responded with a kiss on the neck and tightening his arms, grunting an acknowledgment. He’ll say it; give him time. That’s all he needs, really: time. Time to grow with you and his sons, time to find out who he’ll be when his children are here, and time to change the scarred past to a better future. You and Jasmine are here, the daughter he has no blood with but he’ll kill anyone for her. Now she won’t be lonely as much as he was before Lester was born.

He felt your weight loosen in his arms and heard soft puffs of air leave your lips. As far as he’s concerned, you are the sun and Jasmine the stars. He? He’s the lucky sky that gets you all to himself.

[hivemuthur]

hihihihi i literally love ur writing smmmm like i actually need it sb. any time you post ik it’s gonna be peak literature 🙂‍↕️

anyhowwww, i wanted to request an arcane fic with a university au viktor x reader where viktor and reader are like academic rivals or wtv and they’re always bickering but viktor rlly wants to be her friend and doesn’t want to be rivals. sooo he tries like anything he can and as reader eventually warms up to him another guy comes along (maybe jayce or smth idk? or it can just be a random) and becomes their friend like almost instantly and viktor is JEALOUSSSS and envious and just ufhfhhffhhfghhf i need that sb.

it can be nsfw or sfw i literally do not care i just need that plot paired with your writing and ik it’s gonna be an absolute masterpiece.

Hey, love! You know what I'm gonna say, right? Sorry for the long wait. This will have 3 chapters, like for real, not like the other one that now is looking more like 5. I'm gonna say a few things got changed here, because I forgot the essence of the request while writing, but the general message is: Viktor is bad at flirting.

Tightrope - Ch. 1.

viktorxfemale!reader mature (overall explicit), frenemies/academic rivals to lovers, modern university AU

Ch.2. | Ch.3.

word count: 5,9K

tag: #tightrope

summary: You and Viktor are tethering the line between friendship and rivalry, Jayce being one amongst the few common factors you both acknowledge (of course more is there but for the smart people you are, you tend to be very stupid about things). Oh, and you have to do a project together.

author's note: I have a very poor name vocabulary sorry. Here's another Joe, this time he's a dude :v thank you @rennethen for beta reading and bearing through my shit with such grace. One trick pony here we go!

also the artist behind art is here!

Cross-posted on AO3

—

You squint as your eyes scan the list of projects for Heimerdinger’s class. And since the professor is just and fair, like a nice old man who has seen it all, you already know what to expect. But you check anyway.

He wouldn’t pair you—the almost top-of-the-class student, fighting desperately with your feet and elbows to stay there—with someone undeserving. This little annoying thing in the back of your head called hope still glows faintly, last embers about to die as you’ve read through almost all names known to you except for yours.

And as a bucket of cold water gets thrown over the ashen pieces of coal, you find it. And oh—

Of course. Next to it, your least favourite name. Of course, just… great. This is great. This is fine.

The last time you worked together, it ended with a lot of papercuts, pencils flying, and Jayce using notebooks and blackboards as shields—not to mention a tiny explosion because neither of you could agree on proportions.

So, like the responsible classmate you are, you make one final, desperate attempt to convince the nice little man to change your partner. For the sake of public safety and the well-being of everyone who steps foot on Academy grounds.

You are also nice and well-behaved, so even though the door to the classroom is open, you knock on the doorframe before disturbing the professor.

“Ah! I would lie if I said I wasn’t expecting you to show up. Please, come in!” he exclaims, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes in sheer existential pain. If he already knows what you want, you already know how this is going to go.

Still, you press forward, stepping inside and clasping your hands behind your back in what you hope is a diplomatic stance. “Professor, I was wondering if—by any chance, purely hypothetically—there’s a possibility to switch partners for the project?”

Heimerdinger folds his arms behind his back, looking up at you with the kind of patient amusement that makes you feel like a child asking for extra dessert before finishing dinner. “Ah, yes. I was almost certain you’d ask that,” he says, nodding sagely. “And before you say anything else, I do hope you won’t drop out of my class if I say no.”

You open your mouth, ready to assure him that you would never be so dramatic—except that’s exactly what you were about to say, just in different words.

Before you can recover, Heimerdinger raises a hand and continues. “This project is worth thirty percent of your final mark,” he states, his voice gentle but firm. “I am, of course, aware of the... tension between you and Viktor.” His moustache twitches slightly, betraying a hint of amusement. “However, I must ensure fairness in all assignments. There will be no one riding on someone else’s back in my class.”

You exhale sharply through your nose. “Professor, with all due respect, we nearly set a classroom on fire last time—”

“The most beautiful diamonds,” he interjects, tilting his head with a knowing smile, “are shaped under pressure.”

You stare at him, jaw tight. He stares back, completely at ease.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“I—” you gulp on air, searching for words. Finally, a breath of surrender escapes you and you deflate completely, saying only, “Thank you for your time.”

Seeing your sagged chest and fingers grasping the edge of your notebook tightly, Heimerdinger offers you a consolation. “I know I seem ancient to you, child. But trust me when I say, I do remember what it’s like to be young, and a little bit of friendly rivalry can be transformed into something truly groundbreaking. Think Newton and Hooke! Tesla and Edison! Bohr and Einstein! All of them were in quandaries that led to further discoveries!”

While Heimerdinger lists off pairs of rival geniuses, completely different names surface in your mind, unspoken but undeniable. Verlaine and Rimbaud. Love and Cobain. Sid and Nancy. Bonnie and Clyde. You are convinced those are the dynamics that loom over you and Viktor—just without all the feelings, of course.

And if only you were just competitors, like Bohr and Einstein, things would be so much simpler.

From the very first meeting, Viktor had been cold and reserved, his sharp tongue laced with enough venom to wither anyone foolish enough to challenge him. But if there was one thing you had to do to stay afloat in this sea of STEM sausages, it was dare. And challenge.

You still remember that moment vividly. How you almost stumbled when Jayce introduced you—because gods, he was gorgeous. An angular face that looked carved from marble, warm amber eyes framed by a fall of auburn hair. A boy so unfairly pretty that, had you met him a few years earlier, you would have fallen hard.

Your eyes swept him from head to toe before you slipped your hand into his, and for a single, traitorous moment, something fluttered in your chest. A rush of warmth, unexpected and unfamiliar.

Then you blurted out your name with an embarrassing stutter—

And the magic shattered the second Viktor opened his sweet mouth.

"Charmed," he drawled, but the dryness in his voice suggested the opposite. His gaze flicked over you in a quick, assessing glance before he tilted his head towards Jayce. "Is she another one of your projects, or does she actually know what she’s doing?"

The warmth in your chest evaporated instantly, replaced by a sharp spike of irritation.

Oh. Oh. So that’s how this was going to go.

With a weak smile, you thank Professor Heimerdinger, and your mind is so out of it that you almost curtsy—which you hastily disguise as an awkward bow. Nearly stumbling over your own feet, you literally fall out of the classroom, colliding with something big and solid.

“Careful there! Hi, oh—” A surprised voice reaches your ears, followed by a strong arm steadying you. “Hi there. Hi, um. You alright?”

Either he’s a halfwit or completely smitten with you, because his articulation leaves much to be desired. Not that you're one to judge, given your current coordination.

“Hi, sorry. Just a small… miscalculation.” You smile sheepishly and extend your hand out of habit, instinctively introducing yourself to your unexpected saviour. After all, that’s how you met Jayce.

“I’m Joe,” he says in one breath, your much smaller hand completely disappearing in his massive palm. “It’s nice to meet you.” He chuckles, a blush blooming across his cheeks—so unabashed, his eyes glinting—and oh.

Nice, you catch yourself thinking in the most obscene, ludicrous way as you zero in on his chest, the tight team T-shirt clinging to it.

“Eh, it’s nice to meet you too.” You grin, nodding, and blink stupidly, batting your eyelashes, not entirely sure what’s happening.

Before you get a chance to unglue the dumbfounded smile from your face and actually say something more, Jayce’s voice rings through the corridor, your name echoing off the walls.

“There you are! Oops! Making new friends? Don’t mind her, this is her love language.”

Jayce—the oblivious Jayce, a man so naïve it would never cross his mind what he is doing to someone you literally just met thirty seconds ago. Mortification is too weak a word to describe what you feel inside.

“Jayce!” You smack his chest and shake your head in disbelief. “Don’t mind him, he’s an ass.”

And as if poor Joe doesn’t have enough on his plate already, another voice bombards him, and you’re certain he’s beginning to regret ever catching you.

“Hello. Are you a new face in Heimerdinger’s class?” Viktor asks, wearing that redundant smirk, his voice stretching into a deliberate, chewy, gross thing that makes you scowl. Just outright cruel.

“Heh, no, I just happened to catch your friend,” Joe answers without missing a beat. “And… I was hoping I could get her number.”

And that just. Does it.

You nod faster than you think, already reaching for his phone, clumping your number in there with sticky, shaky fingers and a stupid blush creeping up your neck. You avoid Jayce’s and Viktor’s eyes, but oh boy, you can feel both pairs drilling into you almost viscerally. Viktor’s especially—those fucking yellow embers burning right through you from under furrowed brows.

You flash Joe one last smile and a very awkward, very hurried, “Call me,” not knowing what has gotten into you. Then you let Jayce sweep you away toward your usual route to the cafeteria, while Viktor strolls behind, full of graceful disdain.

“So, I saw the tables, and…” Jayce clears his throat, chattering into your ear. “I’ve seen the pairs! We can share a lab, I’m paired with Sky!”

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh and pat his shoulder—a touch saying more than a thousand words. Words that say how much you can’t wait for another round of throwing objects at Viktor, while Jayce scrambles to catch anything that might hurt Sky.

“Oh, are you not happy about the distribution of projects?” Viktor asks, a small smile playing at his lips.

“The project is fine. The distribution… I’m sure you understand.” You throw him an acidic smirk, your eyes empty of any emotion save for one slow blink. Neural Interface for Prosthetics is actually an incredibly good project—Heimerdinger got you there, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Well, maybe you could be just a little more grateful had he paired you with Jayce or Sky.

“Eh, you will forgive me, but I do not.” Viktor pauses and looks at you—challenging you. And you really hate it, because it works. “I do not wish to have the project jeopardized by something silly, as the topic itself aligns with my interests.”

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual, Viktor. Can we please eat? I am about to eat one of you if we don’t go to the cafeteria right now,” you sigh, exasperated, and your stomach growls to support your claim.

“You can eat me!” Jayce lands face down between your bickering, and you just laugh, completely disarmed.

Once you finally sit down, Viktor simply opens a book next to his tray, ignoring both you and Jayce completely—obviously sulking about something. Jayce, on the other hand, takes massive bites of his sandwich, staring at you intensely, as if willing you to spill the tea. When that doesn’t work, he speaks.

“So… who’s the new guy?” he elbows you playfully and you can barely understand him with his mouth full. But his eyes say it all—he is dying to know.

"Jayce, you’re so transparent I almost can’t see you. Where are you, Jayce? Where did you go?" You wave your hands around dramatically. He almost chokes. Viktor scoffs, unimpressed, barely glancing up from his book as he stirs sweetmilk into his coffee.

Once the immediate hazard of death by choking is under control, Jayce flashes one of those earnest grins—one that practically screams what a good person he is, full of pure intentions. "Oh, shut up. He seems nice, and I’m curious."

"He’s just a guy, nothing more," you hum, taking a sip of your coffee. And even though you have no idea if that little encounter will go anywhere, you can’t resist adding a pin. "Yet."

Viktor looks like he is holding back a scoff, so he just turns the page in his book with a violent sweep.

"Well… do you like him?" Jayce presses, oblivious to the tension at the table. He’s just such a gossip girl.

You let out an incredulous laugh. "Are you alright? Why are you so interested?"

Jayce shrugs. "I don’t know, I always thought you’d end up with someone of equal… interests?" Intelligence is what he really means. But that would be cruel. Just because a guy plays rugby doesn’t mean he’s brain damaged. Surely.

"Oh please, I hate STEM bros." You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms with an air of finality, as if that settles the matter. You do hate STEM bros. They are full of themselves, have no respect for women and look down on you.

Jayce raises an eyebrow, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. "Erm… you are a STEM bro."

Viktor finally looks up from his book, watching you with the barest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest as if mortally offended. "Jayce Talis! I am a lady! Not a bro!"

That is Viktor’s cue. “I don’t think that lack of testicles classifies you as a lady instantly,” he says in a deadpan voice.

And you don’t know what pushes your stupid mind to say it. Is it just muscle memory—your tongue snapping back whenever you talk to Viktor—or an actual intention to say something mean to him? You really don’t know. In one breath, you say, voice equally dead to his, “Of course not. If that were the case, you’d classify as a lady as well,” and watch the chaos unravel.

None of that happens, though. The underwhelming events carry on in painfully slow motion—Jayce’s eyes widening so much there’s a real threat they might never close again, while Viktor gulps his coffee with an agonisingly slow bob of his Adam’s apple. It’s only when he’s done that you realise he was fighting not to choke on it—because the next moment, he bursts into laughter, covering his face with his hand.

Jayce exhales the breath he was holding and laughs as well—you’re not sure if it’s at your joke or simply at the sight of Viktor laughing so openly, an event so rare it shouldn’t go uncherished. Despite yourself, you grin. Indeed, Viktor’s face—his eyes squeezed shut to the point of a tear slipping from beneath his long lashes, smile lines filling out his hollowed cheeks, his teeth bared in an uninhibited cackle—is a sight to behold.

The stupid thing in your chest stutters, as Viktor wheezes and lowers his hand to rest on yours. “Remind me to never cross you again. Merciless is an understatement,” he says, barely, with a really warm smile and you find yourself blushing again, for the second time in a mere hour. Because of two different boys.

And as any moment made of pure magic in the history of magical moments, this one doesn’t last either. It gets violently interrupted by a buzz of your phone on the table.

If you wanna take a stroll, I have a free period now :) We can meet by the fountain. Joe, in case you wonder who this is :)

And your blush deepens. You calculate options in your mind and soon decide on the what the hell one. “I’m gonna scram boys. See you in the lab after class?”

“Yes. Please bring the less… distracted version of yourself if you can,” Viktor states and all the warmth evaporates from him at once. Back to the usual version of himself—sharp wit, balancing on the verge of cutting.

As you mumble an absent, “I’ll do my best,” and wave them goodbye, Jayce returns to his sandwich and sighs knowingly.

“You know… wouldn’t kill you to be a little bit nicer,” Jayce says, leaning forward on his elbows. His voice is casual, but there’s an edge of curiosity beneath it, like he’s prodding at something fragile just to see if it will break.

“This is me being nice,” Viktor replies in a neutral tone, lifting his coffee to his lips. The steam curls around his face as he takes a slow sip, his expression unmoving. He is being nice. He is trying to be nice. It’s just sometimes completely impossible to be nice to you when you get like this. Distracted. He scoffs to himself. It’s a strange friendship you have there, but it’s a friendship nevertheless—or so he likes to think.

Jayce studies him, his gaze sharp despite the lazy way he’s chewing the inside of his cheek. “No, that is just you being… well, you,” he says bluntly, tilting his head as if he’s considering whether to push further. “Being a dick is not a way to a lady’s heart.”

Viktor arches a brow, unimpressed. “Excuse me, but have we experienced the same scene? I was the one being offended and laughed it off like a gentleman, thank you.” He gestures vaguely with his cup, his fingers tightening just slightly around the ceramic.

Jayce narrows his eyes. “Then why are you so annoyed in the first place?”

“I am not annoyed,” Viktor states flatly, setting his coffee down with a little more force than necessary. He smooths his hands over his sweater as he rises from his seat, already turning away before Jayce can open his mouth again. “I am great. I am so great, in fact, that I will go and start working on that project. See you, Jayce.”

And then he just strides off, his cane tapping against the floor, leaving Jayce mid-sentence with his mouth open, eyes blinking slowly.

Of course, he is not annoyed. Maybe only slightly—and only because you’ve somehow managed to gain another distraction in your life right before you were about to start working on the biggest project of the year. And it’s just, well, fucking annoying.

***

When you glance at your watch, you yelp and press a hand to your forehead. “Fucking hell,” you mutter under your breath before breaking into a sprint toward the lab.

Viktor is going to kill you—especially since there’s no way to prove you were caught up in something important.

Because, well, you weren’t. It was Joe who took up all your time this afternoon. And he is… surprisingly nice. And smart.

You hadn’t expected that.

What started as a casual conversation somehow stretched into something far longer, the minutes slipping away unnoticed. He had opinions on films—actual opinions, not just generic statements about “liking action movies.” He had read some of the same books as you and even suggested a few you begrudgingly admitted sounded interesting. Sports came up, of course, but he spoke about them with a self-awareness that made it bearable. And when the conversation dipped into politics, he didn’t say anything that made you want to throw your coffee in his face. That alone was impressive.

It was… weirdly comfortable. Easy, even. Even when he lingered.

Joe’s gaze held onto you a second longer than necessary, like he was memorising the way you looked when you laughed. And when he hugged you goodbye, his arms stayed around you for just a breath too many. The slow way he untangled himself from you made it clear that if you hadn’t pulled away first, he wouldn’t have been the one to let go.

Shaking off the last remnants of Joe from your thoughts, you push through the heavy lab doors with a hurried stumble, your breath still uneven from the rush.

“Sorry, I’m late, guys—” The words die in your throat as you take in the empty room.

Only Viktor.

He stands at the workbench, sleeves pushed up, hands meticulously adjusting the placement of various tools and notes. At the sound of your voice, he pauses but doesn’t turn around immediately. The rhythmic ticking of the clock fills the silence, marking the seconds you take to process the situation.

No Jayce. No Sky. Just Viktor, and the sharp scent of metal and oil clinging to the air.

“Glad you could make it,” he remarks, finally turning his head just enough to glance at you. His voice is even, but something about it feels... off. You can’t tell if he’s irritated or merely stating a fact. Maybe both.

“Sorry,” you sigh, setting your things down with a thud. “I lost track of time.”

“With your new himbo.” It isn’t a question.

You hesitate for a fraction of a second. “Yes. And his name is Joe, Viktor, not a new himbo.”

Viktor hums—a short, unimpressed sound—and resumes his work, carefully aligning a set of blueprints. Somehow, his silence feels louder than an argument.

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, more to yourself than to him, or rather into the empty space between you and Viktor, which seems to be expanding with each passing second.

“And where are Jayce and Sky?”

“They managed to sketch out the roadmap for themselves in the time you spent with Joe and decided they needed the library for further planning,” Viktor replies flatly, still not looking at you. The way he deliberately keeps his gaze averted only emphasises how much has been accomplished in your presumably very long moment of indulgence. How nice.

“Alright, would you like me to crucify myself, or do you want the honours?” Impatience gets the better of you, and you fold your arms tightly across your chest.

At that, Viktor’s hands still over the workbench. His head tilts ever so slightly in your direction, though his gaze remains fixed on the floor, as if acknowledging you fully would be a waste of effort.

“I am merely stating a fact,” he says, his voice low, clipped. “This is more important than some affairs, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, really, Viktor?” You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “And here I thought thirty percent of my grade was worth sacrificing for some sloppy making out—but thank you so much for finally making me see the error of my ways.”

That makes him look.

And he is angry.

His head snaps up, eyes narrowing, gears visibly grinding in his mind as he weighs whether you’re just riling him up or—God forbid—whether you actually have made out with Joe.

His jaw tightens. “Just get to work already, will you?”

You say nothing, only flash him an acrid smile before reaching for your goggles on the workbench.

The two of you work in almost deafening silence, broken only by the occasional exchange of necessary questions and answers. You retrieve materials while Viktor arranges the workspace, and you scribble down the general plan on the blackboard, the tension in the air palpable.

Each time the chalk screeches against the surface, Viktor visibly winces, hissing under his breath and sinking his head between his shoulders in an exaggerated display of agony.

You roll your eyes but say nothing.

“Could you maybe try a little harder to make it less cacographic?” he mutters, irritation creeping into his voice.

The suddenness of it startles you just as you’re making another stroke, and the chalk lets out a bone-chilling whine against the board.

Viktor flinches violently, covering his ears. “For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, voice muffled behind his palms. “Let me do it.” He steps forward, reaching for the chalk without hesitation.

You anticipate the move, tucking your arm behind your back in defiance. A childish gesture, maybe, but if he’s going to be an ass about it, you’re not about to make it easy for him.

He doesn’t stop. He closes the distance between you in a few sharp steps, his expression taut with frustration. Before you can react, his fingers wrap around your wrist—tight, unrelenting. He pries your hand forward and gives a firm shake, forcing your fingers to unclench until the chalk drops neatly into his waiting palm.

A sharp twinge shoots up your arm. It’s not painful exactly, but it’s close enough to make you wince.

Snatching your hand back, you massage your wrist, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

For a brief second, something flickers across Viktor’s face—regret, maybe. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, buried beneath the same rigid composure he always wears like armour. He doesn’t apologise. Doesn’t even acknowledge it. Instead, he turns to the board and begins writing, his tone stripped of anything resembling warmth.

“I want to wrap this up before tomorrow,” he says flatly, chalk gliding across the surface with sharp, efficient strokes. “And you are being thoroughly incompetent. I told you to bring yourself not distracted.”

You let out a sharp scoff. “Okay, I am so sorry I was late. I’ll stay longer and finish up whatever we don’t get done in time. But you are outdoing yourself in being a complete twat today.”

You don’t wait for a response. Instead, you march over to the workbench, hands immediately finding the prototype components. If you focus on the task, maybe you won’t be tempted to launch something at Viktor’s insufferable head.

“Oh please, I do not trust anything you do without supervision,” Viktor says, scribbling quietly on the board, somehow making a point out of it.

“Viktor, are you serious right now? We literally have the same grades,” you huff, leaning over the table to pick up the components you need. You do your best to tune him out—his bickering is only distracting, and you need to rewire the prototype from the previous project.

Overall, the task is simple enough. The device is built around an EEG-based neural interface—a system that reads electrical activity in the brain and translates it into signals that can control a mechanical limb. In practical terms, the user wears a headband fitted with electrodes that detect neural impulses associated with movement. These signals then travel through a processing unit, which refines the input before transmitting it to the prosthetic itself.

That’s the easy part. The rest, well.

The prototype you’re working on today is a refinement of an earlier model. The previous iteration had suffered from signal lag and inconsistent responsiveness—issues you’re hoping to correct by integrating a new set of circuits and refining the algorithm for noise reduction.

You grab the headband from the pile of equipment, turning it over in your hands. It should work just fine if you tweak the wiring to accommodate the new design. Without thinking too much about it, you start securing the circuits, fingers working on autopilot as you weave the delicate wires through the correct channels.

Or at least, you think they’re correct—until Viktor’s voice cuts through your focus again.

“Are you even listening to me? What are you doing?” His tone is sharp, irritated—like he’s already asked this more than once.

Your expression tightens as he strides over to the bench, clearly unimpressed. “I just rewired it. Nothing too complex,” you mutter, adjusting a loose wire before reaching for the power switch.

Viktor doesn’t look convinced. He picks up the headband, turning it over in his hands with a scrutinising gaze. “Nothing too complex,” he repeats dryly. “Yes, because neural interfaces are famously simple. I’d rather be sure. Show me.”

You roll your eyes but oblige, reaching over and flipping the switch.

The reaction is instant.

A sharp jolt cracks through the air, followed by a strangled, almost undignified yelp as Viktor jerks back, dropping the headband as if it has burned him. His entire body stiffens, fingers twitching violently for a brief second before he stumbles, gripping the workbench for support, blinking rapidly.

Your mouth falls open. “Oh—shit—Viktor—”

He exhales sharply, pressing a hand to his chest, his face twisted in a grimace. “Wonderful,” he grits out. “So that’s what you rewired.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you mumble, rushing to him, ignoring the sharpness of his tone. Your hands instinctively cup his face as you lean in. He blinks, startled, his mouth parting at the sudden concern—your brows furrowed, eyes searching his face for any sign of lingering pain, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he says flatly. “You’ve electrocuted me.” His hands move to seize your wrists, but you twist away before he can. Your palms return to his face, fingers framing him gently, and Viktor’s breath hitches.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whisper, voice genuine. You are truly sorry, the worry overriding all the anger you had for him mere seconds ago. And Viktor has no idea how to react to this. He stands there, breath unsteady, before muttering, “I’m fine.”

You blink, straightening, and Viktor is almost ready to exhale in relief—until your hands shift again, this time pressing against his chest and back, cradling his heart between your palms. You stand beside him, hands firm but careful, instinct guiding you more than knowledge. You don’t even know if this is what you’re supposed to do for someone who’s been electrocuted, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind.

His heart thunders beneath your touch. The silence is so heavy you can hear yourself gulp on the lump in your throat. You don’t hate him that much, and you hope he knows it.

Finally, Viktor speaks, his breath still rattling. “Well, would you look at that. So there is kindness in your touch after all.” He tries to sound wicked, but there is no venom in his voice.

“Viktor, you bastard. When have I not been kind to you?” you respond playfully, your hands still pressed against him.

“Ah, well. When you implied my alleged castration is the first that comes to mind. But rest assured, my testicles are good and well. I’d show you, but I’m afraid someone has already filled this position in your life,” he trails off, slipping back into his seemingly unbothered attitude.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groan, rolling your eyes. Still, your fingers linger, as if trying to determine whether his heartbeat is elevated from the shock or something else entirely. Or is it always like this? You don’t dare to ask.

Viktor tilts his head, watching you. “What about?”

“Any of it. You make me fucking gag,” you scoff, finally sliding your hands off him.

“Not yet—but I could.”

You barely have time to register the shift before he catches your hand, his thumb pressing against your palm. A slight twitch makes your fingers curl around his.

“You could what?”

“Make you gag.” The words slip out just as a smirk blooms on his face, faster than he can think to stop either. He can’t tell if he regrets them immediately.

The figurative pin drops. A high-pitched whine rings in your ears. Viktor’s gaze is drilled into you, thumb still pressing into your palm.

Your eyes widen, but you don’t miss a beat. “Well, would you look at that. So there is kindness in you after all,” you murmur.

“Ah, for you. Only kindness, nothing else,” Viktor hums, his voice a low purr as his thumb idly circles the centre of your palm. His grip is loose enough that you could pull away, yet you don’t. His eyes flicker with something unreadable—something that makes your breath catch before you force yourself to scoff.

“Yeah, right.”

His smirk deepens. “When have I not been kind to you?”

“Like… ever?” You raise a brow, tilting your head as if you’re genuinely considering it. “You mock me. You think I’m outright stupid and don’t deserve my spot in class. You constantly correct me and fight me over solutions. You hate working with me, scoff at me, and laugh me out in front of Jayce. And Sky.”

Viktor clicks his tongue, his fingers squeezing yours ever so slightly. “Such is my love language.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “Oh, forget it.” You finally try to pull your hand away, but Viktor doesn’t let go just yet, his grip tightening for half a second before he releases you—only for his cane to hook lightly around your wrist, stopping you mid-motion.

“Wait.” His voice is softer now, coaxing. When you glance at him, there’s something else in his gaze, something warmer, but it’s masked beneath that ever-present air of a prank. “I almost died, you shouldn’t leave me.”

You gape at him. “Viktor—”

“Alright, alright! I surrender.” He chuckles, but there’s something breathless in it. His fingers twitch against his cane. “Wait. Please.”

The sudden plea stills you. Your heart stumbles over itself before you swallow and straighten your posture, crossing your arms in an attempt to shake the feeling off.

Viktor exhales, dragging a hand through his hair before returning his gaze to you. “I do not mock you or laugh you out. I simply jest—I do that with Jayce all the time. You should have noticed by now.”

You purse your lips, unimpressed.

“I do not correct you,” he continues, his voice lilting, as if this is all some grand performance. “I offer you my point of view. And I do not fight you—I simply enjoy some intellectual sparring. Not many can provide one that satisfies me.”

Your fingers twitch, nerves sparking beneath your skin at the way he says satisfies, but you ignore it. Instead, you level him with a flat stare.

“You’re just gaslighting me at this point, Viktor. At least give me a head start before you snap my neck with this thing one day.” You tap the end of his cane with a pointed look.

Viktor grins—slow, wicked. His weight shifts, allowing the cane to rest a little heavier against your wrist, his fingers curling just slightly around the handle.

“Oh, come now. That would be far too merciful.”

Your stomach flips, and you hate that it does.

“Are you going to be good to me now?” Viktor asks, his voice so low you barely hear it, but the weight of it settles deep in your chest.

He takes a step closer, and your breath catches when you feel it—his exhale, warm against your skin, ghosting over your lips. His fingers brush against your wrist, the same one he had seized not long ago. A touch that lingers.

“You have almost killed me, after all.” You watch his lips twisted in a smile you’ve never seen before. And it scares you for some reason.

“Stop this,” you say, firmer than you expected, yanking your hand away. You clutch it to your chest like a wound, like something fragile he might pry apart if given the chance.

Viktor tilts his head, eyes sharp with curiosity. “Why?”

Your throat tightens. “You know goddamn well why.” You take a step back, shaking your head, something bitter curling in your gut. “I am not your project, you dick.”

Viktor’s expression shifts—his smirk falters, lips parting slightly as if caught off guard. “Hey, that is not what I meant—”

But you don’t let him finish. You pivot on your heel, retreating towards the door, your pulse hammering in your ears. You need distance. The lab suddenly feels too small, the air too thick, charged with something neither of you were prepared for.

Behind you, Viktor’s voice follows, just a step behind. “Wait—”

You don’t.

The door swings shut behind you, and Viktor is left standing in the empty lab, staring after where you had just been.

A long exhale leaves him, and he runs a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath,

“Well, damn. That backfired.”

He frowns to himself, rolling his jaw as if trying to make sense of what just happened—of what he just did.

And for the first time in a long while, Viktor realises he doesn’t have a formula for this.

[thebekerslegecy]

👑 MEDIEVAL MODS + CC | The BEKER LEGECY

I am currently playing Morbid’s ULTIMATE Decades Challenge. Below is a list of all of the Mods + CC I am using in my game🐝

🍯 MODS: Wicked Whims (+18) MC Command Center MC Woohoo More Traits in CAS Royalty Mod Medieval Interactions Ye Olde Cookbook + Stoves +Fires Require Wood  + Hunting & Foraging ModHome Region +Townie Demographics by Kuttoe Fashion Authority 2 by Lot51 Functional Broom Functional Loom Functional Pottery Wheel Archery Skill Blacksmithing Skill Historical Simolean Override - English Shillings Children/Toddlers Can Die of Anything Playable Harp + LuteFunctional Horses & Carriages, No Helmet Create Campfire Bonfire Anywhere Arranged Marriages Custom Farm Animals Purchase Custom Animals Zero’s Historical Mods (pickpocket, disease, etc.) Phone to Notebook Replacement Sippy Cup + Toys Default Replacements Stuff for Pets Natural Knitting Stuff PreTeen LittleMsSam Mods ( Pick what you want) Sims4me

🐝 CC:

🍯Build:

TSR Ye Medieval - Ligna Windows Set TSR Ye Medieval - Timber Frame Walls TSR Ye Medieval - Framework Walls TSR - Broken Wood Door TSR Ye Medieval - Soil Terrain TSR Ye Medieval - Hay Ground Terrain

🐝Objects:

Lili’s Palace - Folklore Set No. 1 Linzlu’s Frontier Items TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 1 TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 2 TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 3 TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 4 TRS Ye Medieval - Tristan Bathroom TSR Ye Medieval - Tavern Part 1 TSR Ye Medieval - Candle Holder TSR - Skara Stool TSR - The Old Garden Boat TSR - The Old Garden Quay Fish Market Decor Fish Rack Fish Crate V1 Fish Crate V2 Bohrium Vegetables I Old Rustic Well (“Eco Living” version) Stable Set by Moriel Rustic Animal Shed Rustic Chicken Coop Rustic Bee Box Bassinet + Infant Crib SimsHistoricalfinds tumblr (directory) SIMS 4 MEDIEVAL CC TheSenseMedieval Allhistorical cc tumblr Medieval & Fantasy Mods List | Notion Kosmic Hippie's CC Finds — 👑 MEDIEVAL MODS + CC | The Sims 4 antiquated plumbobs : Directory CC Finds Navigation

🍯CAS:

TheSimsResource (Ye Medieval) TheSimsResource (Sifix) Simverses  Melancholy Maiden | creating Historical Sims 4 CC | Patreon satterlly | creating The Sims 4 CC | Patreon

🐝 SAVE FILE:

Srsly’s Blank Save Map Replacement Medieval Windenburg Medieval Map Replacement

🍯MY SIMS 4 MEDIEVAL WORLDS:

How to change sims4 world names (for existing save)How to change sims4 world names ( for new save)

Kingdom of France – Willow Creek’ Mali Empire – Oasis Springs’ Kingdom of Norway – Newcrest’ Inca Empire – Granite Falls’ Holy Roman Empire – Windenburg’ Kingdom of Denmark– Magnolia Promenade’ Republic of Genoa – San Myshuno’ Kingdom of Hungary – Forgotten Hollow’ Grand Duchy of Lithuania – Brindleton Bay’ Aztec Empire – Selvadorada’ Kingdom of Sicily – Del Sol Valley’ Ottoman Empire – StrangerVille’ Hawai’i – Sulani’ Kingdom of Scotland- Glimmerbrook’ Duchy of Milan – Brightchester’ Maya city-states – Evergreen Harbor’ Tatooine– Batuu’ Goryeo– Mt. Komorebi’ Kingdom of England – Henford-on-Bagley’ Republic of Venice– Tartosa’ Duchy of Burgundy – Moonwood Mill’ Kingdom of Aragon – Copperdale’ Mongol Empire – San Sequoia’ Mamluk Sultanate – Chestnut Ridge’ Kingdom of Ayutthaya – Tomarang’ Kingdom of Castile - Ciudad Enamorada kingdom of Moldova - Ranvenwood

[greengoblinswifey]

hey, babes! can you make fratboy!nick but a theater/movie geek please i’m begging. i’m talking like him spewing facts, giving commentary, theories, minor details, and he even wants to recreate an iconic love scene with you. like the pottery scene from ghost it would eat down so hard. that’s if you’re up for it!

Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

warnings— nicholas being a cutie, fluff, L bombs, unprotected sex, praise kink, creampie.

a/n— i love this, def need more fratboy!nicholas requests🤭hope you enjoy <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Nicholas led you upstairs to his room at his parents’ house for the first time, his hand wrapped around yours, his grin wide as he opened the door. “Okay, don’t judge me,” he said, stepping aside to let you in.

The room was big and full of character. Shelves lined the walls, filled with DVDs, Blu-rays, and vintage cassettes, alongside stacks of theater playbills. A massive movie poster for Titanic hung above his bed, while smaller posters for Scream and Beetle Juice were tacked up on the other walls.

Your eyes widened as you ran your fingers over the spines of the cassettes. “Nick, you have so many movies. This is crazy.”

“It’s a collection, not just movies,” he corrected with a playful smirk, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve got everything. Horror, romance, thrillers, musicals, you name it. This right here is a lifetime of excellent taste.”

You laughed, pulling out a cassette with a faded cover. “Pretty Woman? Really?”

“Are you kidding me?” He stepped forward, taking it from your hand and holding it like it was precious. “This movie is a masterpiece. Julia Roberts practically redefined what a rom com could be. The jewelry box scene? Improvised. That’s the kind of magic you can’t plan.”

“You’re such a geek baby,” you teased, putting the cassette back.

“And proud of it,” he said, grinning as he reached for a DVD case. “This? The Notebook. I dare anyone to watch Noah and Allie kiss in the rain and not believe in love.”

“You’re serious about all of this, huh?”

“Dead serious,” he said, his voice softening. “Movies and theater are everything to me. They’re not just entertainment, they’re moments. Like, take Phantom of the Opera. The chandelier crashing, the Phantom singing Music of the Night, it’s pure, raw emotion. And horror? Don’t even get me started on Halloween. That single shot of Michael Myers standing behind Laurie Strode? Chills. Every time.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you traced your fingers over another row of his horror DVDs. “Do you ever stop thinking about this stuff?”

“Nope,” he said, unapologetic. “And I’ll die on this hill, Dirty Dancing is the greatest romance of all time. That final lift? Cinema history babe.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re so over the top, Nick.”

He grinned and took your hand, tugging you toward a small box beneath his bed. “If you think that’s over the top, wait till you see this.” Inside the box were old theater programs and ticket stubs. “This is everything I’ve been to, plays, musicals, even little community theater stuff. My first was The Lion King on Broadway. I was like ten, and when Mufasa appeared in the stars? I cried like a baby.”

You leaned against him, flipping through the programs. “It’s kind of adorable how passionate you are about this.”

“Adorable?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take it. But, for the record, I’m also very serious about recreating iconic movie scenes. You, me, and a pottery wheel? Ghost style. It’s happening.”

“Oh my god,” you said, laughing. “You’re obsessed with that scene.”

“Because it’s perfect!” he said, his hands flying. “It’s intimate, romantic, and ridiculously sexy. Tell me you wouldn’t want to try it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even own a pottery wheel, baby.”

“Not the point,” he said, taking your hand. “Come with me.”

The two of you ended up in his parents’ basement, where a table was covered with an old sheet, and a small hunk of clay sat in the center. Nicholas grinned as he set up a Bluetooth speaker, scrolling through his phone. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”

A moment later, Unchained Melody began to play.

“Nick,” you said, laughing as he dragged a stool over. “You planned this?”

“Of course,” he said, motioning for you to sit in front of the clay. “This is the ultimate love scene. Come on.”

You sat down, shaking your head as he moved behind you, his arms slipping around your waist to guide your hands to the clay. His touch was warm, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Relax. Just follow my lead.”

Your boyfriend’s arms stayed wrapped around you as he guided your hands over the clay, his voice low and playful. “You know this is how it starts in Ghost.”

You laughed softly, turning your head slightly to look at him. “Are you going to start quoting it?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He grinned, leaning in to nuzzle your neck before his voice dropped into a soft, dramatic tone. “‘It’s amazing, Molly. The love inside, you take it with you.’”

You rolled your eyes, giggling. “You’re so corny.”

“And yet,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, “you’re still here. You love me.”

He wasn’t wrong. His warmth pressed against your back, his hands still covering yours as the clay spun beneath your fingers. The intimacy of the moment, coupled with the deep sound of his voice and the soft strains of Unchained Melody playing in the background, sent a shiver through you.

Nicholas noticed. “Cold?” he asked teasingly, his lips moving to the curve of your shoulder.

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No.”

“Good,” he murmured, his hands leaving the clay to slide down to your waist. He turned you slightly on the stool, his gaze locking with yours. His brown eyes were soft, holding the weight of the moment.

“You’re not even paying attention to the clay anymore,” you teased, your voice shaky as his hands rested firmly on your hips.

“That’s because I’m paying attention to you,” he said, leaning in closer. His lips found yours, gentle at first, before deepening the kiss. His fingers went to your sides, pulling you closer as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips as he kissed you again, his passion matching the way his hands explored your waist and ass.

“Nick,” you moaned when his lips trailed back to your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin.

“Mm?” he hummed against you, his voice warm and teasing.

“This isn’t exactly like Ghost anymore,” you said, laughing softly as your hands tangled in his hair.

“Better,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His lips quirked into a mischievous grin. “Way better.”

His lips found yours again, soft, as he cupped your face. The clay on your hands was forgotten, smudges left on both of you, but neither of you cared. The air around you felt hot, the faint strains of Unchained Melody still playing in the background.

“Are you okay with this?” Nicholas whispered, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

You nodded, your hands sliding up to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. “I’m okay baby,” you said softly.

“Tell me if you’re not,” he murmured, brushing a strand of your braids behind your ear. His hands lingered on your waist, his thumbs stroking gentle circles.

“I will, baby,” you assured him, your voice steady, though your pulse raced.

“I love you,” he said, the sincerity in his voice making you feel like the only person in the world.

Your cheeks warmed as his hands moved from your waist to grab your ass guiding you closer. His kisses deepened, slow and steady, leaving no doubt about how much he wanted you.

His lips found their way to your neck again, pressing gentle kisses along your skin. “You’re perfect,” he whispered against you, his voice thick with emotion.

Your hands slid to his shoulders, feeling the strength there as he leaned into you. “Nick,” you whispered, his name slipping out like a prayer.

“Yes, baby?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“I want you so bad. Please fuck me,” you admitted, feeling a shiver run down your spine as his gaze softened further.

“God, you’re so beautiful when you’re needy like this,” he said, his lips curling into a small smile before kissing you again, his hands caressing your ass.

He stood, lifting you effortlessly in his arms. “Come with me,” he said softly, carrying you toward the couch in the basement. He sat down, pulling you gently onto his lap, your legs straddling him.

“You’re so beautiful my love,” he whispered, his hands sliding up to cup your face again. “I want to make you feel good. Tell me if I’m doing too much, okay?”

You nodded, your fingers tangling in his hair as you leaned in to kiss him. “I trust you baby, you know that,” you said softly, feeling his hands settle on your hips.

He groaned softly, his head falling back as you pressed kisses along his jawline. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his hands squeezing your waist.

Your laughter was soft as you leaned back to look at him. “Good,” you teased, feeling more confident under his gaze.

“You’re the most perfect girlfriend ever,” he said again, his voice full of awe as his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer. “You feel so good in my arms.”

Nicholas moaned as you straddled him, your short dress riding up your thighs as you settled onto his lap. His hands slid up, gripping your hips, his breath already coming in shallow gasps. “You’re going to kill me,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

“You’ll survive,” you teased, your fingers slipping into his sweats to pull out his hard and leaking cock.

When your hands touched his cock, he hissed softly, his hands gripping your hips. His fingers moved to the hem of your dress, hiking it higher as his dark eyes met yours. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You smiled, leaning in close enough for your lips to brush his ear. “Why don’t you show me?”

His breath hitched as he slid your thong to the side, his movements hurried yet careful. He reached down to position his cock, his jaw tightening as you took him and guided him to your entrance. The stretch was slow and deliberate as you sank down onto him, both of you moaning softly at the sensation.

“We don’t have much time before my parents get back,” he murmured, his voice thick with urgency, his hands gripping your waist.

“Then we’d better make it count,” you said with a sly smile, rolling your hips and eliciting a low, guttural moan from him.

You began to move, bouncing on his cock, your hands braced on his shoulders before one slid to wrap around his neck. His head fell back, his hands sliding to grip your ass as you picked up the pace. “Y-you feel better than Heaven,” he gasped, his words breaking apart as his hips bucked instinctively.

“Just sit there and take it,” you whispered, your tone dripping with authority as you ground your hips against him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he moaned, his hands squeezing you tighter. “Anything you say.”

His praises spilled from his lips between moans, his eyes locked on you as though he couldn’t get enough. “You’re so perfect, so beautiful. I can’t get over how good you feel.”

You smirked, leaning forward to press a kiss to his jawline. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” you murmured, your voice sending shivers through him.

His breathing grew more ragged, his grip on you desperate. “I— I’m close," he stuttered, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. “Please, baby. I’ve been your good boy. Please let me cum.”

His tone made your heart race as your own orgasm began to build. “Cum with me,” you urged, your voice soft but commanding as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer.

When your climax hit, it felt like a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and moaning. Nicholas followed moments later, his body tensing beneath you as he moaned your name and his cum exploded inside you, his face buried in your neck.

“I love you,” you whispered against his skin.

“I love you more,” he replied, his voice low but sure as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

Before either of you could fully recover, you heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway. “Oh shit,” you breathed, glancing toward the window.

Nicholas’ eyes widened, and he helped you scramble off his lap, both of you moving quickly to adjust your clothes. He pulled you into a quick kiss, his smile soft and adoring despite the rush. “You’re amazing,” he whispered before stepping back to make himself presentable.

By the time his parents walked through the door, the two of you were seated on the couch upstairs, your hands intertwined and matching smiles on your faces as though nothing had happened.

[lychgate]

i haven't posted a really poorly drawn thought piece adventure in years so here's a brief update!

hope i hit the read more thing right oh well anyway:

"Spent a lot of time applying for a home loan. I had to pay -fucked up- to have a convincing income for a decent loan. It was very confusing but cody helped me a lot."

"Cody proposed to me It felt wonderful that someone wanted to share their time and love with me. Cody proposed Anthrohio weekend, it's the con we really met at."

"We saw the listing that sunday morning before we had to go to our table to vend."

"It was a perfect house. We were the first people to view it and we immediately put in a bid. And we got the house. Many papers to sign."

"Moving was not easy. It took 2 whole months. Cody was out of town helping their grandma recover from a big surgery and we had to sell their old house/move that as well as move from my apartment. ALSO THE PETS: My cat dick wolf + Cody's 3 birds. Until we could get some doors installed and separate the house, I had to live between two places every day to feed and care for them."

"Still, life was good. I bought my first house! It has a swing in the backyard. I've never had my own backyard. I've never even lived somewhere that had trees (in said yard) It felt nice. Living together with the love of my life and 4 pets."

"Through all this i never closed my shop. How could I? It was my income, and I just bought a house. It needed to stay open. Moving that much inventory, setting up a new office, the house is a nice size but it's not huge, so, very careful organizing had to be executed if I wanted my apparel laid out right. (Which I totally managed to do)"

"but i Did get really good at baking pies. the two are connected."

"sacred_crow on instagram!"

"there's like 25 of u bastards i would absolutely die for, and about 75 more that i would go nearly dead over."

"We have an extra bedroom so I got to turn it into a toy room. There's games, crafts, stuffed animals, movies, a sick loft I painted the shit out of. It rules. It brings me a lot of Joy."

"Under the loft we have a dug out where we can watch VHS tapes. I love to sit with Cody and watch movies and play Donkey Kong."

"I am not good at Banjo Kazooie, but Cody is. Cody is so talented. I love watching them play games. (Depicted is not banjo kazooie but donkey kong country 2 as we are currently playing that. I'm good at DKC but I will still swear and make sounds like im about to throw up)"

"Half the basement is finished, so we turned it into a dual office space. It rules. Cody has a whole side for fursuit crafting, and my side is mostly my gigantic gamer computer area/shipping area. I took a whole wall to put all my non apparel merch like pins charms and notebooks also. for hte love of god someone buy the notebooks they take up more space then i wanted"

"I love to look over from my computer and see cody working. They always look so focused, yet peaceful."

"It's winter but it rains. I miss the snow. I lived by the lakes growing up. I miss piles of snow. It's just wet and cold here. Yes i'm quite aware of global warming"

"I got kicked off both my health and car insurance. I fixed the car one but health insurance still no. All my meds have gone away. The past few months have been hard. I think way too much lately. I can't get myself to do anything. -this is a whole page of downer bullshit and i cropped it!-"

"We had a leaky ceiling that took a month to fix. Cody did all the work because they are smart and kind."

"Oh yeah I had my uterus removed earlier this year. They let me keep it. It's in a jar in my living room."

"We threw a very nice halloween party. I was the green m&m. Cody was the monarch."

"We adopted 8 beautiful kiwis from a crane machine at the mall. we spent over 100 monies to get them but it was worth it."

"

It was a rough year. My health is in decline. Our country may try to end my life for being trans soon (lol?) I am in hte middle of a colossal mental breakdown of my core fundamental behavior (depression advanced) BUT ALSO: I am engaged to my favorite person. We bought a house together. I'm beginning a new chapter of my life. I have a swing in my backyard. The negatives suck but there are also many positives. The cycle of emotions is immense, but there is beauty in it. There is beauty in life, and isn't that wonderful?"

[apocalypticwafflekitten]

Moonlight Psychopomp

Vampire!Perpetua x Reader

A/N: I was listening to Abstract (Psychopomp) by Hozier when this thought came into my head. This was supposed to be a little blurb idea I was gonna throw into @papathe5th’s askbox but it became a full fic of its own, so here we go! Also! The lovely divider is by @wrathofrats!

Original Imagine/Summary Thingy: Imagine being there when Perpetua gets turned and sort of ushering him into his “afterlife”.

Warnings: Major Character Death-ish. It’s nothing too detailed, but he technically does die. Very Mild Gore - mild descriptions of blood, nothing super detailed. Originally written with she/her pronouns, but changes to be gender-neutral, so let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Word Count: 2k

I don’t have any other works for Perpetua at the moment, but if you like my writing, you can check out my Masterlist!

You liked to walk through the woods that backed up to the Monastery. The old abbey was such a secretive place - all mystery and compelling quietness. You liked to nose around the grounds, catch sight of the men who lived there, listen to the tones from the abbey’s organ.

You almost didn’t come tonight. The smattering of snow falling should have convinced you to stay home next to your heater and fireplace. Really, it shouldn’t have been snowing at all, but Spring seemed to come late this year. Even in mid-April the winter chill had yet to leave your hometown.

But you wanted to listen to the brothers sing. You wouldn’t be able to hear much, but if you got close enough, you could make out the melodies and harmonies drifting through the windows during the Easter vigil mass.

But as you creep closer to the tree line, out of the densest parts of the forest, you see a dark, lumpy shape laying on the forest floor.

A smarter person might have changed course and avoided whatever consequences might come from investigating a dark, lumpy shape laying on the forest floor. But you were curious. It was that curiosity that led you to spy on the Monastery to begin with - that curiosity that led you here tonight. So of course you listened to that before you ever listened to the rational part of your mind.

As you draw closer to the shape, you try to make out what exactly it is. Granted, it’s dark. The sun set ages ago, so you can’t see well to begin with. But you still try.

However, it’s not the shape of the thing that finally tells you what it is. It’s what you step in.

You don’t hear it at first, but after a few steps, you notice a squelch beneath your shoes that isn’t made by crushing snow. Looking down, you can’t quite make out what exactly is different about the forest floor - only that there’s some liquid or goo shining in the dim moonlight. You bend down to investigate, but before you can kneel, you’re overcome by the metallic smell. Blood.

A thick trail of blood leads up to and puddles beside the shape. And as you look down at what appears to be shredded fabric, you catch a glimpse of what is laying beneath that fabric. Your heart plummets when you realize what - or, rather who - you had stumbled upon.

He’s one of the brothers of the monastery. Even without the robes, you’d know. You had seen him around the grounds during previous visits, often catching him hiding in the open courtyard or wandering close to the forest while scribbling something in a notebook. He was your favorite to watch. Not just because he was handsome, which was nice, but really, it was because he seemed so out of place - like the pious life grated hard against him - like something about him being there just…wasn’t right. And yet there he was.

But as he lays here, he looks nothing like the man you’ve watched before. His robes are torn to shreds. His skin an ill pallor that’s beginning to sink in upon itself. Most of all, he just looks…wrong - like he’s lost something about himself. Something fundamental that no one would ever choose to lose.

You kneel beside him, pull his body into your lap and let the weight of his upper body rest on your legs. And only then do you notice where the puddle of blood beside him comes from.

Blood still trickles from the wounds and though you try not to jump to conclusions, the two punctures on his neck tell you enough to guess what happened to him.

“You poor thing,” You whisper, adjusting his body so his head can rest in the crook of your elbow, “What happened to you?”

You nearly jump out of your skin when his eyes creak open just the smallest bit. You’re not even sure he actually did open his eyes. It could have been a muscle twitch or something. But you force your arms to still, to continue holding him against your rapid heartbeat.

But he knows. The second he heard your voice his body jolted alive, fighting to hang on just a little longer. Just enough to finally see you.

You were really here - the one who kept coming back to spy on the monastery. He could finally see more of you than the brief glimpses he had caught before. He could finally connect the dots on the rough sketches he’d been scribbling in his notebook. He could finally meet you.

But everything is hazy. And his whole body hurts. He doesn’t even know where he is anymore or how he got here. But he can hear your voice like a beacon of clarity that pulls him back down to earth.

As you speak, the moonlight streaming through the trees bathes you in a silver halo, so much so that it seems the moonlight comes from you. You are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen and he wonders for a moment if he’s even worthy of looking at you.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you’re still here with me. But I’m sorry it happened like this. I’m sorry you were alone.”

“I’m not” he yearns to say. The words push up against the back of his tongue, but his throat is dry and he can’t make his lips move. So he looks into your eyes, hoping you can see the little flicker of his soul behind his eyes - hoping he can somehow tell you with his eyes that he knows you’re there.

Fuck, he knows. Moments before this, when he lay alone in the snow he had been afraid - shivering and shuddering, feeling the cold sting against his skin where that thing had ripped his robes (he wonders briefly how much of his body you can see). But then you found him and pulled him against your body and let him feel warmth again.

And as he looks into your eyes now, all of that fear is quelled. All the blood, all the cold, all the pain - it melts away and is replaced by something warm and comforting within his chest. Your eyes hold everything good in the world just above him. Just looking at you is enough to soothe his every ache.

He takes a final moment to memorize your face, a final deep breath - willing his chest to move one last time, then goes entirely limp.

Your arms jolt out to carry all the weight of him once more. And for a moment, you just sit there, holding his still body in silence.

You don’t know what to do. You’re certain a man just died in your arms. A man you hardly know in a dark forest backed up to an old Monastery in the middle of a vigil mass.

As you look down at his blank face, trying to think of what to do, you’re overcome with pity for him. To die almost alone on a cold night is not the death this man deserved. You can feel tears for him welling in your eyes and as they fall, you pull his body to your chest, hugging close the remnants of this poor man before setting him on the forest floor.

You can’t bury him. You don’t have a shovel, nor do you have the strength to dig a grave for him. But something tells you that even if you could, you still wouldn’t bury him. There’s no explaining it, but something about him just doesn’t feel…done yet. It’s absurd. There is no breath. No pulse. Even the blood trickling from his wounds has stopped. And yet, you know you wouldn’t bury his body.

So you do what you can. You pull the collar of his robes up against the wind and prop his body against a tree, well guarded in a dark corner of the forest. You slip your coat off and lay it over him - hoping that if you’re correct and he’s not quite done yet, that the coat will keep him warm.

Just before you stand to leave, you cup his cold cheek in your hand, cradling hope and comfort against his hollow skin. And into his ear you softly whisper: “Whatever comes for you now, poor one, I hope you find happiness, whatever that means for you.”

And then you were gone.

The ministry is still a little overwhelming. Especially today.

The ministry halls - normally quiet and calm - are bustling with veteran Siblings racing to welcome new initiates. He’s supposed to come meet them this evening too. It’s one of his first official acts as Papa. And yet, he finds himself scared - worried, even, that he will somehow fail even this simple task.

He turns his eye to the corner of his desk. There’s a framed sketch there. A sketch of you. The one he’d viciously scribbled moments after he woke up, perched against a tree. It was one of the only things he remembered when he woke in that cold forest.

He’d ripped his notebook and pen from the pocket of his shredded robes and finished the sketches of you he had started weeks ago.

And now he keeps this one with him - framed and close no matter where he goes.

He often looks to you when he needs strength. Even if it‘s just a sketch of you, it’s enough to help him through anything. You’d saved him once before and so many times after that, though you’d never know it.

He dreams about that night often. Every week at least. Flashes of the initial attack have come back slowly over the years. That, he’s not entirely grateful for. But he remembers some things that are good enough to balance out the nightmares. He remembers that he was doing a last check of the grounds before the vigil mass when he was attacked. He remembers hoping to see you in the trees and thinking that if he saw you again he might invite you inside - just for mass. Just to meet you. And most of all, he remembers you and how the moonlight shone from you and how you’d guided him into his afterlife with your kind, comforting voice.

He’s been looking for you. Ever since that night he’s looked for you. Honestly, at this point he’s not even sure you’re real. Maybe you had been an angel. Or a demon. Or some figment of his imagination. But that’s never stopped him from looking for you. And if there was one benefit of his sudden promotion, it was that he had some level of power to look for you. He would be going on tour soon and in every venue, in every city, he’ll be looking for you - hoping, praying to Satan that you’re real.

As he looks at the sketch of you, he feels that same warmth he felt the night you saved him - the one that melted over him when he looked into your eyes. It’s reassurance enough that even if he’s scared, he can survive - he will survive.

And later that night, when he steps into the sanctuary to meet the new initiates, his breath catches in his throat and time stops altogether.

You’re here. You’re actually here. You’re not some figment of his imagination. Even obscured by the formal habit for the ceremony, he knows it’s you. You may have aged in the fifteen years it’s been since you held him, but he knows you. He would know your eyes, your voice, even in death or whatever comes for him now. You’re here. You’re real. And you’re just as beautiful as his hazy memory recalls. The moonlight shining upon you through the stained glass windows gives you the same silhouette as that night; the same silver halo. A message from God or Satan or something beyond either of them. One that says “Look at them. I’ve brought them to you.”

And in that moment, he is filled with the most radiant, blinding happiness he’s ever known.

He finally gets to meet you.

[roosterforme]

Smarter Than the Average Beer Boy | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: After months of attending your lectures, Bradley has honed his math skills beyond his wildest expectations. A night out with the boys reveals just how smart and endearing your husband really is, even when he has a hangover.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, drinking, oral sex, shirtless Beer Boy, 18+

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

Happy birthday to @cherrycola27!

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Banner by @thedroneranger Check out my masterlist

You were on your way to teach your last class of the day, and it was your least favorite one. When the class schedules were being organized for next semester, you planned on begging Dr. Rosenthal to let you trade this awful linear algebra class away for one of his calculus lectures. Because at least calculus was something to which you could add a little spice to keep your students interested, unlike this one.

Even though you already ate the snack your husband packed in your tie dye lunchbox, you were still hungry. You'd have to remind him to pack you something extra next Thursday. But as you were on your way to the lounge to quickly get something from the vending machine, you heard his voice. 

"Sugar."

You spun around in your loafers and tweed skirt and saw your husband in full khaki uniform heading your way. "Beer Boy. What are you doing here?" you asked, giving up on the idea of a snack and heading in his direction instead. "I'm about to give a lecture."

"I know," he said with a smirk, voice all deep and raspy. "I got dismissed early, and I stopped at home to get you a snack. Thought maybe I could join your lecture tonight since I won't get to spend tomorrow evening with you."

You almost dropped your notebook as you wrapped your arms around his waist and propped your chin on his chest. "Are you my snack?" you asked as he leaned down to kiss you.

"Nor exactly," he laughed, holding up two small containers. "I brought you some homemade hummus and pita chips. But if you want to skip your lecture and head up to your office, I'd be more than happy to fuck you while I feed you."

"Tempting," you told him with a moan. He was always so sure of himself when he was with you, and it was a massive turn on. But when he grinned and started pulling you toward the elevators, you had to dig your loafers in. "I can't let my students down," you said with a little pout. "Come on. You can sit in the back and take notes."

"Nah. I'll just watch my hot wife in action. Take some mental notes that I can think about at the bachelor party tomorrow night."

You rolled your eyes as you took the containers from him. "You'll have so much fun with Jake and the boys, you won't even be thinking about me at all."

"Newsflash, Dr. Sugar," he whispered as you entered the lecture hall with his hand on your butt. "I'm always thinking about you."

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

Yes, it was fun watching you work. Your lectures were informative, and you were very passionate about the subject. You were also gorgeous, and Bradley wouldn't mind watching you do this all day long. And sure, he loved that you wrote a few problems on the board for your students to work through so you could eat the hummus and pita chips he brought. And yeah, he squirmed a bit in his seat when you winked at him from the podium as you licked your fingertip. 

But the really interesting thing was the fact that Bradley was getting pretty fucking good at math now. If he could go back to undergrad studies, he might even choose it as his major instead of political science. Nobody ever really encouraged him to show off his smarts after his mom died. Well, besides you. There was something about the way you always recognized that he was intelligent that made him fall even harder for you. And since he knew what it felt like to live without you for ten years, he didn't mind watching you teach the same classes over and over. He just wanted to be around you.

When you asked if there were any volunteers to work through the problem, Bradley was able to follow every detail and come up with the correct answer from his seat. And when you finally ended the class, he went up to the front of the room and kissed your cheek right in front of the straggling students. "Any chance you can bring one of the homework sheets home for me to work on later this weekend?" he asked, stealing your last pita chip.

You looked up at him with adoring eyes, and it wasn't fair, because you knew what those little tweed skirts did to him. "You're really going to work on a problem set?" 

"Yeah," he told you with a shrug. "Why not? This class was fun, and maybe you can check my answers and reward me?" he asked hopefully. 

"If you want to be my top student, you better get them all correct." You ran your fingers along the front of his khakis as you picked up your notebook and started walking away.

"I'll be so good, Baby," he promised as he followed you out. He was planning on working on the problems on Sunday after he spent all day Saturday recovering from Jake's bachelor party. Tomorrow night was for the boys, but tonight he would be spending with you. 

When he got you home, he boiled a pot of water for some of the homemade pasta he made and dried last weekend, and he started heating up some of his homemade sauce and meatballs. "This is so fucking sexy," you whispered, rubbing up on him in your tweed while you sipped a beer. "You are really good at feeding me."

He stole the bottle and drank some. "You're really good at everything else." When he tried to hand it back, you just shook your head and dropped slowly to your knees. He was already a little hard from all the tweed rubbing, but then you kissed his zipper, and his dick responded immediately. "Look at that. I didn't even have to do the math problems."

You grinned up at him while he sipped the beer. "Maybe this is just a little reminder for you to be good tomorrow night when you're out with the boys. No drinking and driving. No letting them get into fights. No playing beer pong without me. If you're good, then there's more where this came from."

Bradley was really enjoying the cold beer as you undid his belt and button before you eased his zipper down. "I'll be so good. I'm a hundred percent domesticated."

You moaned as his cock sprang free, and you rubbed your face against him. "I know." He was about to tell you he'd been that way since the two of you were college seniors, but suddenly all coherent thoughts left his brain. You were gently kissing his balls as you ran your fingers up underneath his shirt and teased his abs. "You're a very good boy."

His cock was throbbing and tapping you on the cheek as your tongue flicked out to taste him. "Sugar," he grunted before sipping the beer again. 

"Hmm." You were looking up at him as your lips barely met his skin. "What should I do with you?" Somehow you were making Bradley feel submissive even though you were on your knees for him, and he tipped his head back and groaned.

"Fuck me up, Sugar."

"Gladly," you replied, and he felt your tongue draw a slow and steady line from his tight balls all the way to the head of his cock. Bradley watched as you took the very tip of his bouncing length between your pretty lips. All you did was hold eye contact as you sucked on him like he was a piece of candy, your fingers tickling the trail of hair below his belly button, and he was mesmerized. 

"Those pouty lips will be the death of me," he whispered before sipping the beer again. "So fucking pretty." You sucked on him a little harder, and he clenched. Damn, you hadn't even taken him deep yet, and he was already eager. But he didn't care, because you already knew what you did to him.

Then you popped him free, rubbed your nose against his trimmed pubes before kissing his tip and said, "I love you." Then you grabbed him by the hips and let him slide all the way so he was tapping the back of your throat. 

"Oh, fuck," he grunted, already thinking about you gagging on his cum. You shook your head slightly when he was deep, and tears filled your eyes as you sucked. Bradley gripped the bottle, his voice only a harsh whisper as he said, "That's it. That's it. Fuck."

A few more deep thrusts had you struggling, which was honestly so fucking hot to him. You were making desperate little sounds, but you bobbed on him until you gagged. And that's really all it took.

You moaned as he filled your mouth, and he ran his thumb along your cheek as you gently sucked every drop from him. "Show it to me," he whispered softly and you smiled as you released him. Slowly, you parted your lips and tilted your face up for him, showing off your cupped tongue full of his cum. "Beautiful."

Then you swallowed him down and kissed his drained balls once more before you stood and took the beer bottle from his hand. Casually, you took a sip like you didn't just leave him twitching before you. "Is dinner almost ready?"

He was still thinking about it the next night when he was out with all the guys. Jake was marrying Jessica in a month, and all he asked for was a night of bar hopping. Normally Bradley would have been very good at this, but he was thinking about the way he'd fed you bites of pasta while standing in the kitchen as you moaned over how delicious it was. 

"Come on, Rooster, have a shot," Payback said, passing him some tequila. Just a few drinks would help him focus on the night with the guys. "Bottoms up." 

But at first, the drinks just made him think about calling you to see what you were up to. Jessica was supposed to stop by the house to hang out for a while, and he wondered if she was still there. Maybe she left and you were already changed into his Grateful Dead shirt for bed. Maybe he could just get an Uber right now and go home and find out for himself. He'd slip right into bed next to you. 

"Time for the karaoke bar!" Javy announced, and then Bradley had more shots in front of him before he ended up onstage, and he couldn't be sure where his shirt went, but oh well, it didn't really matter since his favorite shirt was at home with you, and it was suddenly time to sing. 

But he did remember to text you and let you know he'd be home very late.

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

Having the empty house to yourself felt a bit like it did when Bradley was deployed. So in that respect, it made you a little antsy. But on the other hand, it was peaceful when you had Jessica over for some snacks and a glass of wine. It was close to midnight when a bunch of photos came through to your phone and hers. 

"Oh no," she groaned as you scrolled through the images from Mickey. It appeared as though Bradley lost his shirt. Typical. 

"They are a mess," you muttered, finally getting to one where the guys were physically holding Jake up. "You're going to have your work cut out for you tomorrow."

She shook her head but laughed. "I think I'll head home and wait for him. I don't know if he'll even be able to make it from the front door to the bedroom without help."

"Bradley doesn't look much better," you added as you got to the last photo where he was chugging a beer, the amber liquid dribbling down his neck and bare chest. "Oh Lord."

"Call me tomorrow and let me know how bad it is?"

"Yeah," you agreed, walking her to the door and giving her a hug. 

And then you were met with silence again. You changed into Bradley's tie dye shirt and his robe that he'd had since college, but you weren't even slightly tired now. You glanced across the hallway to your office door covered in your own handwriting. 

SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY

Working through an advanced calculus problem before bed would definitely help you unwind. You walked to your white board while you looked up a problem on your phone and then scribbled it down and got to work. Oh, this one was a bit tricky with lots of side math to complete first. The squeak of your marker was soothing, and by the time you got to your tenth line in the proof solution, you were yawning.

"Works like a charm," you muttered, capping the marker and heading back across the hall where you climbed into bed. 

At one point during the night, you thought you heard Bradley stumble in the front door. "Beer Boy?" you called out, rolling over in bed.

You heard him slur, "It's just me, Sugar," followed by the sound of the refrigerator opening up. He'd come to bed eventually after he got a snack. You scooted back all the way to your side, preemptively trying to avoid him being a sticky, sweaty mess. You smiled and curled up, and you were back to sleep in seconds. 

But he never did come to bed, as evidenced by the still crisp bedding on his side when you woke up again at nine. You stretched and climbed out from the pocket of warmth and reached for his robe before you went to search the house. 

You started in the kitchen, thinking that being near the refrigerator might have been more appealing than the bed, but he wasn't there. You glanced out back and on the living room couch, but you didn't see him anywhere. 

"Bradley?" you called out as you looked in the bathroom, but he hadn't even fallen asleep in the tub. You pressed your lips together as you poked your head inside your office and gasped. "Seriously?"

He was sound asleep on the floor, his shirt nowhere to be seen, and he was snoring loudly. An empty ice cream carton and spoon were next to his head, and it looked like he'd eaten a value sized bag of pretzels. There were a few more wrappers and a lot of crumbs on the floor, and you just gaped at him as he started to roll onto his side and look around.

"What the fuck? Why is it such a mess in here? I just cleaned on Wednesday," he groaned, hair sticking up at every angle. He tilted his head and looked up at you through squinted eyes. "What happened?"

You gave him an incredulous look. "Why don't you tell me?"

He continued to look around the room as he sat up. "I don't know," he replied, pushing the pretzel bag to the side as he cradled his forehead in his palm. "Last thing I remember is the guys making me sing Caress Me Down for karaoke. Where's my shirt?"

Your deep sigh should have been warning enough for him, but he looked down at his abs, shocked that he was only wearing half of his outfit. "Once again, Bradley, why don't you tell me?"

"Baby, how am I supposed to know?" he whined. "God, now I have a fucking hangover, and I can't think."

If Jake was also this bad at the moment, then Jessica might need a reassuring phone call later. Hopefully he hadn't destroyed the carpet in their condo. You needed to get Bradley into the shower and then put him in bed so you could clean up the floor, but your eyes caught on your white board, and you gasped. "Bradley."

"What now?" he moaned as he got to his hands and knees in the crumbs. "My head is throbbing."

Your eyes skimmed from the top of the board to the very bottom, and you started laughing. He was looking up at you, confusion swirling along his handsome features as you had to brace your hands on your knees while you gasped for air and cackled. "Beer Boy!"

"Okay, yes," he grunted. "I'm beginning to think I was actually the one who made the mess in here, but I'll clean it up. It's not that funny."

"Bradley!" you screeched, pointing to the board. "You solved my advanced calculus problem!"

Slowly and seemingly painfully, he turned his head to look and crawled closer to the wall. "I don't think so," he muttered. "I don't even know what all of that means." He was standing on his knees, and trying so hard to figure it out. "Holy shit, that's my handwriting."

"It definitely is," you said through your laughter as you gently combed your fingers through his messy hair. He practically melted against your leg with his big hand on your thigh below his robe. "I am... somehow really impressed by this? You got drunk, got a ride home at four in the morning, and then you solved an advanced math problem before you passed out on my office floor."

"Yeah, I'm impressive as hell," he whispered, kissing you through the robe fabric. 

"You know... if you weren't so terribly hungover, I'd offer to blow you again like yesterday. Because this is something only my very best student would be able to do. And I love rewarding my best student." 

You stroked his cheek softly with your knuckles as he stared up at you with parted lips. "Professor Sugar," he rasped. "I'm totally fine. Barely hungover at all."

"Are you sure?" you laughed. "You look a little rough. And you made a huge mess."

"Yeah," he replied immediately. "I'm great. Wanna join me in the shower?"

You bent to kiss his forehead and whispered, "If you think you can handle it."

"Hell yes," he groaned, trying three times before he was able to get to his feet. Then he took you by the hand, and you helped him down the hallway to the bathroom. 

You pointed out the small closet on the way. "And when we're done, the vacuum cleaner is just hanging out right in there, waiting for you to clean up my office."

"Yeah, okay."

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

Happy birthday, Nik! When you mentioned this idea, it had me cracking up. I hope you enjoy it as a birthday gift one day early! Thanks @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤

a/n: this is a story i wrote + published on wattpad (user: thesvnandthemoon). i recently finished writing the last chapter and i love it so much i decided to post it on tumblr as well (my first fic i’m posting here hehe)

i didn’t tag this as 18+ because the smut is only implied and very brief

summary: natasha romanoff x female!reader. based on the movie “the notebook”; you’re allie, nat’s noah. fluff

warnings: implied smut (minors proceed with caution)

word count: 5.8k

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

They say one summer can change everything — you never thought it would be yours.

In hindsight, you won't be able to say when exactly it all started, but it must've been at the town's annual fun fair. Popcorn and fried dough, old carnival rides and duck ponds, neon signs and bells ringing.

You come reluctantly, dragged along by a friend who insists it'll be fun (and then proceeds to ditch you after meeting some guy at the hot dog stand). You don't expect much — just the usual: sticky cotton candy fingers, cheap thrills, and a fleeting distraction from the monotony of summer evenings. What you don't expect is her.

Green eyes and a black bomber jacket that looks way too warm for a hot summer day, her red hair in a loose braid. Bruised knuckles, painted in all shades of blue and purple, and a faint scar above her left eyebrow. She's leaning against the side of one of the booths, a cigarette dangling from her lips. For a moment, your eyes get stuck on her. But when her gaze meets yours, you turn back to the shooting gallery in front of you.

It gives her the opportunity to let her gaze linger on you, sharp and assessing. It's not the kind of look that makes you uncomfortable — if anything, it's curious, like she's trying to figure you out. Her eyes trail from the sundress you're wearing to the smudge of sunscreen on your wrist, then back up to the necklace that glints against your skin as you lean forward to aim.

Your fingers curl around the grip with a mix of hesitation and focus. In front of you are bright red and yellow circles, each one suspended on a flimsy wooden board. Some are shaped like ducks, others like stars, but they all feel impossibly far away.

The gun's plastic body feels awkward in your hands, too light to mimic the real thing, but you pull the trigger anyways. Just as expected, you miss, the dart-like projectile whizzing softly as it flies past the target.

You miss one shot. Then two. Then three.

Natasha, deciding she's had enough of seeing this pretty girl embarrass the hell out of herself, stomps her cigarette out with the heel of her boot before approaching you. She steps up next to you, the sound of her boots quiet against the pavement. You turn your head, a frustrated look on your face that doesn't waver even when she smirks. Without a word, she grabs the fake gun from your hands.

"Let me show you how it's done", she says, her voice low, just for you. She doesn't wait for your response before taking aim.

With a quick flick of her wrist, she hits the first target, then the second, then the third — each shot landing perfectly. You huff quietly as you watch her, trying to hide that you're somewhat impressed by this stranger's skill. She's not even showing off, just doing what she knows best.

It makes you wonder who she is. You don't know her, despite this town being quite small. You'd remember her, you're sure of that. She seems like the kind of person who'll float around your head like a little faded cloud until the day you die.

When she looks at you again, you quickly clear your throat and force a small, teasing smile. "Not bad", you say. "Now let's see if you can do that blindfolded."

Natasha smirks, her eyes glistening with amusement. I like her, she thinks, handing the plastic gun back to you. She feels a spark deep in her bones. She doesn't want to let it fizzle out.

"How about you let me take you on a date first? Then, maybe we'll talk about you blindfolding me."

"Wow", you muse, suppressing a small smile. This is dangerous territory, flirting so shamelessly with someone you probably aren't allowed to have. The odds would be against you. However, nobody said you can't have a little fun. "A marksman and bold. Lucky me."

"You don't know the half of it", she says, raising an eyebrow. She nods at the targets in front of you. "Come on, your turn. Let's see if you're a visual learner.”

You adjust your grip on the gun and aim once more, feeling her eyes on you. There's something predatory about the way she studies others, like she's waiting for them to slip up, but there's also a hint of something softer underneath. In that moment, it's reserved for you.

Right before you pull the trigger, she leans in and whispers: "Hit the target and you're going on that date with me."

For a moment, you consider giving it your best.

You could take the shot. You could make it. But for some reason, the thought of it feels too simple.

The projectile misses the target by a wide margin. Natasha frowns, her arms crossing in front of her chest. You turn around and your eyes meet.

"Guess I'm not ready for that date yet", you say.

"I'm starting to think you're making this harder on both of us", Natasha mutters, giving you a look that's somewhere between amusement and frustration. "Good thing I'm stubborn."

"Half of this town is stubborn", you say, unimpressed but equally intrigued. This woman seems determined to take you on a date, and honestly, you like the thought of being pursued so actively. But you're convinced your family is more stubborn than whoever she is.

"If you think this is stubborn", Natasha says, her eyes glinting in the afternoon sun, "you haven't met the real me yet."

Your lips twitch into a small smile at the sheer confidence in her voice. It's attractive, in a way, but also riling you up. You can't tell her why you're so adamant about saying no, so pushing her away is your only choice. Deep down, however, you know you'd say yes in a heartbeat if you weren't such a coward. And maybe she realizes that, too.

"Let's assume I say yes", you challenge. "Then what? You think a few hours with you will change everything?"

"Maybe it won't change anything", she says, though she's convinced it will. With Natasha, it always does. "But something tells me you're the kind of person worth taking that risk for."

Her words make you hesitate. She watches your expression fall in a way that makes her frown.

"You don't know me", you start carefully.

Before either of you can say anything else, you hear your name being called. Your friend comes hurrying back, this time with a peace-offering bag of popcorn. She gives you an apologetic grin and tugs at your arm. You avoid Natasha's gaze as you let her lead you away.

You don't expect to see her so soon again, but maybe that's just your luck.

You're on the ferris wheel. Natasha spots you a few gondolas away, lost in thought, your friend talking to someone on the phone.

She's used to being reckless, but not in order to impress other people. This time, it's different.

You caught her attention. You made her ask you out on a date. You said no.

Maybe she should give up. She doesn't even know what this will be, after all — a fling? A quick flirt? A one night stand, perhaps?

It could end up being nothing. Something about the way you looked at her earlier makes her believe otherwise, though. She can't give up so soon.

As the wheel slows to let others on, Natasha stands up and carefully grips the framework on the sides of the gondola. She stands on the small seat for a moment, balancing her weight, before she begins climbing to where you are. She moves expertly, ignoring the gasps of a few onlookers.

You look up when she reaches your gondola, and your friend almost drops her phone. Gaping, you stare at her.

"Are you insane?", you finally ask, reaching out to steady her. She slides into the seat next to you, loose strands of red hair fluttering around in the wind.

"Say yes to that date", she says, "or I'll jump."

You ignore the stunned look your friend gives the two of you. Sighing, you realize that this woman has managed to chip away at your resistance with ease. You didn't want to say no before, to be fair, but you felt like you didn't have a choice.

You still don't. You just decide to ignore that fact.

"At least tell me your name."

"Natasha", she says, smiling.

You tell her your name as well. You spend the remaining ten minutes of the ferris wheel ride in uncomfortable silence, trying to escape the stares of both Natasha and your friend.

. . .

The date goes better than expected.

She takes you to a diner, where she talks the owner into letting you stay after closing hours. With the door locked and the lights dimmed, your focus is entirely on Natasha. She was charming before, but it doesn't compare to the way she's treating you now.

You twirl the rose she handed you between your fingers, noticing that someone has carefully removed all the thorns. This town doesn't have a flower shop, you quietly remind yourself.

"It's nice here", you say, your eyes scanning your surroundings very briefly. Checkered tiles, a jukebox, red vinyl booths. Chrome finishes on tables, counters and stools, and milkshakes with cherries on top. It's like a place straight out of the 1950s. "Can't believe I've never been here before."

"You're here often?", she asks, dipping the end of her straw into the whipped cream and licking it off.

"Every summer. I'm visiting my grandparents."

A hum forms in her throat. You smile faintly, catching her eye.

"I've never seen you here before", you eventually say, stealing a dollop of her whipped cream with your own straw. She doesn't complain. Her smile widens instead.

"Looks like this town does have its secrets, after all."

You soon figure out that Natasha's different from the other people you've gone on dates with before.

She makes you laugh. It spills out of you before you can stop it, surprising you.

She's all bruised knuckles and scarred hands, hinting at a grittier life — she's not polished or sheltered. Instead, she's resilient and strong and self-assured.

Her presence feels electrifying. Every brush of her fingers against yours sends shockwaves down your spine.

When you exit the diner, you pause. You don't want to leave, and neither does she. Her hand touches yours meaningfully, and she lingers — just enough to make you pause. Her eyes search yours, her confidence softening just enough to feel like a plea. It's intoxicating, the way she makes everything else disappear. The moment feels unhurried, deliberate, like a silent question.

Are we on the same page?

You should turn around and go home. Your family is probably wondering where you are.

Instead, you let her pull you into a kiss.

For Natasha, it's more thrilling than climbing a ferris wheel.

. . .

You're used to keeping secrets, but this one is your favorite so far.

Natasha is a force that keeps drawing you closer. Before you know it, you're sneaking out of windows and hiding behind corners of buildings. Her lips seem to be getting softer each time you touch them with your own.

You meet again on a Friday night, this time in the quiet of her car. An SUV, surprisingly, one that you wouldn't have assumed would be hers.

"You seem more like the pickup truck type", you tell her, a genuine smile on your face.

"That's insulting", she replies, smirking, and starts the car. "Tell me where you want to go."

You can't think of anything, so you shrug. You let her surprise you. With her, everything seems to be a surprise.

Natasha doesn't appear to be in a hurry. She handles the steering wheel with calmness, a sense that, no matter where you end up, it'll be a night to remember.

In the end, the silent streets take you to the outskirts of town. An old sign reads Sunset Drive-In. The parking lot is almost empty, save for a few cars littered across the place. The screen stands tall and cracked against the backdrop of dark trees. Neon lights, once-vibrant and now dead. It feels like a place lost in time.

"Here?", you say, trying to conceal your amusement.

"Trust me, it's better when no one else is around."

She parks the car in the middle of the lot, far from the old speakers that still dangle from rusted poles. A breeze sweeps through your hair when you step out of the car and follow her. She pops the trunk, revealing a blanket that she uses to cover the hood. Side by side, you sit down.

You both stare up at the starry sky, feeling each other's presence. Her hand touches yours.

"Not what I expected", you admit, glancing at her. She smiles.

"I told you it'd be different," Natasha replies. She leans back against the windshield, folding one arm behind her head. The soft hum of the old projector flickers in the background. "But you can't say it's not romantic."

"Never said it wasn't."

A black and white movie starts to play. Your smile widens and you laugh quietly.

"Is everything about this place old?", you ask.

"Apart from us? Probably."

You hum in acknowledgment and nod, watching the scenes in front of you slowly flesh out into a full story. Your hand slides across the blanket, fingertips touching hers. She takes your hand and holds it in her lap. Her calloused fingers trace your knuckles, one by one, repeatedly.

Occasionally, you glance at her. You shift closer to her on the hood, so your sides are flush. At some point, she wraps her arm around you and you rest your head on her chest. Her heartbeat is steady and grounding in your ear. You allow yourself to close your eyes — you haven't been focusing on the movie for a while now, anyways.

Natasha's lips brush against your hair, lazy and soft. You turn your head to press your cheek against the fabric of her shirt. She smells like leather and mowed grass, perfume and something faintly metallic. It's the trace of a life lived on edge, so very different from how you were brought up.

What you remember from your childhood are two things: the inability to choose for yourself and the knowledge that you're safe and protected.

Money was never an issue, and neither were security or stability. But with it came rules — endless, unyielding rules about how to act, what to say, who to be. Every choice predetermined, every step carefully calculated.

Who are you taking to prom? Who's taking you to prom? What dress will you wear? What will you study? What kind of life are you aspiring to have someday? Kids, no kids?

Don't drag your family's name into the mud. Don't even think about doing this your way. Your grandmother would be so disappointed. You'll ruin your future.

Quiet voices in your head, echoing past questions and letting the hollow pit in your stomach grow again.

Automatically, your head turns. You breathe Natasha in. For a moment, you dare believe she might be the freedom you've been wishing for.

The movie plays on, its lights flickering across the parking lot. Sometimes, the screen goes dark, pulling you into the darkness as well. The stars above you seem brighter than ever, twinkling sympathetically.

Then, the end credits start rolling. You glance at Natasha, realizing she's been looking at you.

"Enjoyed the movie?"

"It's old", she simply says. You smile faintly.

"Not a fan?"

Her hand starts drawing circles on your shoulder, your arm, your side. You exhale to suppress a quiet laugh.

"There's exactly one thing I liked about it", she says meaningfully. It makes you want to kiss her.

Unfortunately, the moment is ruined when some drunk guy starts yelling at his girlfriend. She yells back. Then, glass shatters. A high-pitched 'what did you do to my fucking car??' rips you out of your moment of contentment.

The shouts echo through the nearly empty parking lot, piercing through the quiet night air. Natasha's arm around your shoulder tightens when the man jumps out of his car. He's clearly drunk, standing there unsteadily and waving his arms. His girlfriend yells once more.

You sit up slowly, Natasha following in suit. Her jaw tenses as she watches the fight — she looks like she's about to spring into action. Something sharp flickers in her eyes, alert and calculating, and it sends a jolt of attraction through your body.

Again, you quietly wonder who she really is. She doesn't show much of herself. But something about her promises an escape from everything else.

"You okay?", she asks. The arm that's lazily draped over your shoulders gives you a squeeze. Her eyes, however, stay glued to the offending couple.

"Yeah", you confirm. You lean into her subconsciously. She feels like stability in a world that's falling apart.

Her gaze doesn't leave the scene until the couple's fight fizzles out. A car door slams, tires screech against the gravel, and the lot falls silent again.

Natasha exhales and her shoulders relax as she looks back at you. The intensity in her eyes softens. "Sorry about that. Not exactly the ending I had in mind."

You smile faintly, unsure what to say. The bubble you were in moments ago has popped. Instead, you're surrounded by darkness and the sound of crickets. Her green eyes search your face in the darkness.

"Do you want to head back?", she asks after a beat. You shake your head so quickly you even surprise yourself.

"No." You pause, watching her carefully. "Unless you want to?"

Her lips curve into a small smile, the tension melting away. "Not a chance." She nudges your shoulder gently, coaxing a laugh out of you. "I know a spot. If you're up for it."

You quietly decide your parents can wait a little longer.

. . .

You tell Natasha about everything.

She tells you about nothing.

You're in her car, tucked into the backseat. You're leaning against the car door and your knees are pulled to your chest. The milky moonlight bathes your features in a gentle glow. It makes it hard for Natasha to focus on what you're saying, but she tries her best.

"They're strict", you begin, absentmindedly playing with the laces of your converse. "It's hard to explain. I guess it's how they were brought up, which doesn't excuse things, but whatever. When I date someone, it's not without their approval."

Natasha trails her fingers down the length of your shin, leaving a pleasantly tingling feeling in their wake. She's grown increasingly comfortable around you.

"They're rich, too. Like, really fucking rich. It's crazy." You pause. "I don't even know. I guess I'm trying to say that this — whatever it is — won't be easy."

Her eyes find yours, green and steady. She rests her hand atop your shoe, her fingers tracing the laces.

"You're still here", she says. "Guess that says something."

You smile weakly. You haven't thought about it that way yet, but she does have a point — despite everything, you're here. In her car.

You reach out to grab her hand and intertwine your fingers. Natasha leans in closer, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Her skin is pale in the light seeping in through the window behind you.

"When do you have to go home?", she asks. Something needles at your chest as you realize how that question makes you feel. Despite being an adult, you're acting like a teenager with a curfew.

Cheeks warm, you shrug. "An hour?"

"That's not much", Natasha points out. "We'll have to make it count."

"Or you kidnap me", you suggest, half-joking but also half-wishing she'd take you up on the offer. But she just smiles and shakes her head. Her hands push your legs apart as she crawls in between them.

As your eyes meet hers, you can't help but wonder how you ended up here — how everything in your life seemed to collide with this moment, with her.

"Can't imagine you being on the run, if I'm honest." She leaves a quick kiss on your lips. "You'd miss the AC and the fancy espresso machine."

You cup her cheek with one hand. You coax her into another kiss, a firmer one this time. Her hand, resting on your hip, slowly slides under your shirt. Her warm palm feels electrifying against your skin.

"You don't know me that well", you mumble yet again. You dive into another kiss. "Maybe you will one day."

Natasha looks at you. Something unspoken passes between the two of you. Your thumb grazes the faint scar below her jawline.

"I'd be thrilled", she replies, her voice softer, then kisses you deeply. Her tongue pushes past your lips. Her hand moves higher until her fingertips brush under the fabric of your bra. Rain starts pattering against the fogged up windows, quiet and steady, but you don't notice it happen.

Instead, you cradle Natasha's face. You taste the beer you had earlier on her tongue. It's mixed with something uniquely hers. You let her in, completely, and you suddenly find that you don't care about the consequences anymore.

. . .

She takes you to a small house by a lake.

It's afternoon when she suddenly shows up. You're not entirely sure how she managed to find your grandparents' house, but she did — she's right here, leaning against the gate with her back turned to you. Her red braid is a pattern against the smooth fabric of her black leather jacket.

You'd be thrilled to see her if it weren't for your grandfather walking past the kitchen window.

Your heart leaps into your throat. With one swift movement, you sling your bag over your shoulder.

"Be back soon!", you call out as you rush through the door, letting it slam shut behind you. You don't wait for a response — you don't want to risk it. Instead, you hurry to the gate and push it open with a quiet creaking sound. Natasha glances at you and smiles.

"You're insane", you whisper harshly, grabbing her arm and yanking her away from the gate. You glance back at the house. The kitchen window is empty for now, but it won't stay that way for long.

"Nice to see you, too", she says, a smirk on her face. She lets you drag her along without protesting. "What are you so worked up about?"

"Are you being serious? You were supposed to pick me up at the diner, not here! They could've seen you!"

"Yeah, yeah." Natasha frees her arm from your grip to take your hand. She's so utterly at ease that it makes your chest tighten.

What's it like, not caring about anything or anyone?

It's a thought you don't dwell on. Natasha spins you toward her, her free arm encircling your waist. Before you can process what's happening, her lips are pressed to yours. Firm but soft, a lingering taste of mint on them.

You let out a soft noise and wrap your arms around her neck, momentarily forgetting about the looming risk of being caught. She smiles against your lips and slowly pulls away.

"Now", she says, leading you down the sidewalk and toward her car, "let me take you somewhere."

"Where?", you ask as she unlocks the car. She doesn't answer, so you sit down and buckle up, the scent of her leather jacket surrounding you. The engine of the car hums to life. You reach out to tap the back of her hand. "Nat, where are we going?"

"I thought you liked surprises."

"I do", you reply and glance out the window. The winding road, shaded by towering oak trees, takes you past lush gardens and monotonous picket fences. A neighborhood that screams uniformity, but to you, it's nostalgia in its purest form. "I'd still like to know. Finally taking me up on that kidnapping-offer, maybe?"

Natasha smiles. Her hand moves to yours thigh, just barely brushing under the hem of your skirt. "Just be patient. You'll like it, I promise."

Her skin on yours makes you feel warm in a way that has nothing to do with the summer heat. You put your hand on hers, squeezing lightly to distract yourself. It doesn't work.

"I'm curious", you say. The pad of your thumb finds a scar on the side of her hand and you start tracing it.

"Patience", she repeats. She looks at you and smirks. "How much time do we have this time?"

You hesitate before eventually telling her the truth. "A few days. I told my parents I'm staying at a friend's house."

"Lying to your parents for me already?"

A red flush blooms on your cheeks. "Don't let it go to your head."

You drive past the slow life of the town you're in. A post office with a fading American flag fluttering outside, a little café where locals sip coffee, a general store. You spent years exploring everything on your bike and getting to know every nook and cranny.

Eventually, you reach the more rural part of town. Natasha drives down a hill and brings the car to a stop. Grass brushes against your bare ankles as you step out of the car.

In front of you, you spot a small house that's nestled into the landscape like it belongs there. It's surrounded by swaying trees and green grass, the summer sun making everything look like straight out of a children's picture book.

Your breath hitches for a moment. Your hand touches the hood of the car for a moment, grounding you.

"Is this...?"

"It's mine", Natasha confirms. She grabs a suitcase and joins you. A few strands of hair have escaped her braid, curling slightly. "I bought it a while ago. Just, you know. For someday."

You inspect the house. It's small, unassuming. Completely unlike the modern apartment you'd imagined her retreating to whenever she wasn't with you.

You love it.

"Someday?", you ask, glancing at her.

She smiles and averts her eyes. There's something vulnerable to her. "I just thought...maybe one day, I'll need a place like this. Away from everything. Away with someone."

You're not sure how to respond to that, so you don't. Every word you consider seems to fall short.

You fall into step with her, following her up the creaking wooden steps of the porch. The door swings open quietly. Natasha, red-cheeked for the first time since you've met her, quietly admits that she oiled the hinges.

You barely hear what she says. The house, albeit minimal and almost spartan inside, feels like a memory.

A mattress on the floor. A table with mismatched chairs in the kitchen space. A few boxes, some overflowing with blankets.

You absently adjust a few books on the bookshelf, pushing them backwards so their spines are aligned. Natasha's silent, not daring to disrupt the silence.

She doesn't tell you that you're the first person she's ever brought here. She doesn't have to.

"It's cozy", you murmur. You faintly hear the gentle thump of the suitcase as Natasha sets it down. "You've been here before?"

"A few times." She tucks her hands into the pockets of her jeans and watches you explore. "Don't expect too much. There's no WIFI, no cable. Not exactly a five-star getaway."

"No WIFI?", you tease, picking up a ceramic mug that's sitting next to the sink. It's patterned, chipped at the top — so ordinary it makes you smile. "How will I survive?"

Natasha smirks. Her hand finds yours and she leads you to the back of the house. Through a sliding glass door, you reach a small porch. Beyond it, a lake stretches out, its surface shimmering in the sun. A hammock swings between two trees, a bed of wildflowers underneath. It smells like grass and cedar.

The warm breeze washes over you. You breathe in the air and let it seep into your system. Out here, the rest of the world seems very far away.

"It's beautiful", you finally say.

"It is", she says quietly, her gaze never leaving you. You look at her when you feel her fingers intertwine with yours. The sunlight softens her sharp features into something gentle and fragile.

You reach out and brush some hair behind her ear. The light touch of your fingertips against her skin is enough to make her relax.

Natasha puts her hand on yours, keeping it pressed against her cheek for a moment. Then, she nods at the hammock.

"Come on", she says. "Let's see if that thing still holds."

. . .

The days are a blur.

You sleep on the mattress on the floor, one with a dip in the middle that pulls you together by dawn. The bedsheets, soft and worn, have a faded floral pattern on them. Morning light streams through the windows.

You wake slowly when the warmth of the sunlight hits your face. Natasha's arm is draped over your waist, her breath hitting your neck. Sometimes, she wakes before you. She kisses your shoulder and pulls you closer.

You eat sitting on the table, legs idly swinging over the edge. The table wobbles slightly, but it's nothing a folded napkin can't fix. Natasha stands next to you, her hair unbrushed and falling over her shoulders in auburn waves. Her voice is quiet and raspy when she speaks. The faintest hint of a Russian accent is present, making you wonder about her more than ever.

You still don't know much about her. She's a mystery you can't solve, but you're dangerously close to promising yourself you'll spend your entire life trying to.

You share your coffee from the chipped mug that you found sitting next to the sink. You steal bites of food from her plate. You bask in the warmth that's ever present in this little house.

The rest of the day, you're mostly outside. Staying indoors doesn't seem to be an option in a place like this. You enjoy the butterflies, the sun, the lapping of the lake far too much.

Natasha finds a canoe behind the shed that's next to the lake. It's old and doesn't look like it'll keep you above the water, but Natasha insists it's still seaworthy. To your surprise, she's right — the canoe, paint peeling and wood scuffed, stays afloat.

She rows you to the middle of the lake. Her muscles flex under her shirt as she pulls the oar. You sit behind her, legs dangling over the side, and enjoy the view.

When she suggests you go swimming, you give her a skeptical look. But the redhead has gotten up already, her shirt peeled off to reveal a black bra underneath. Scars crisscross her skin in a startling blend of old and new — some pale and softened with time, others pink and raw. A past she's never spoken of. You know better than to ask.

Her jeans follow. The canoe rocks precariously as she jumps. When she comes back to the surface, her hair is slicked back and water drips from her face. Natasha looks happy, unbothered, and it pulls at your heartstrings.

You ignore the plea of your body to stay warm and dry. Instead, you take your clothes off as well and join her in the lake. Water, cold and refreshing, envelops you. Her hands find your waist and you meet her lips with yours.

After this, you start bathing in the lake every day. You run around the house naked, lake water dripping on the floor and Natasha's laughter trailing after you.

Corners and hallways offer little moments of intimacy. Her body feels warm against yours. You let your hands run over her sun-kissed skin, her lips pressing against the side of your face. Natasha's hand trails down your front and dips between your legs. You're hers entirely.

At night, you curl up on the mattress. Hair damp and skin sunburnt, you feel like the season has claimed you. You've soaked up the joy of summer, and from now on, nothing will be able to compare to this.

Not everything is perfect. As you spend so much time with her, you realize that Natasha and you clash like fire and ice — two forces that shouldn't mix but somehow do.

It's the little things and it's the bigger things. Jackets left in random places, or arguments caused by different ideas of what comes next. Somehow, you're both curious about the future — but you also avoid that topic as much as you can.

You try bringing it up. Gently, carefully, as if not trying to scare away a wild animal. Your head on her chest, the pads of your feet pressed against her calves. Her heartbeat is steady in your ear. You close your eyes and speak, asking her what she thinks.

Natasha is not one to hesitate. This time, she does.

You have no clue why. You don't know that her job requires her to be able to up and go at any given time. You don't know that her life, unlike yours, is fragile and unstable. You don't know that she doesn't want to drag another person into this mess.

There's just one issue: Natasha has fallen in love with you.

It was meant to be a fling. A quick summer flirt. Just a pretty girl to make her days less lonely in this strange, unfamiliar town.

She couldn't have possibly known you'd end up meaning so much to her, but here you are — all messy hair and sweet smiles, burrowing your way into her chest as if you were always meant to be there.

This transition from casual to everything but happened way back. She never noticed it happen. And now, she's in love.

It's the kind of love that takes root deep inside you. It doesn't always fit into neat plans or pretentious families, and it's not always easy, but you both try. Some days, trying is easier than on others.

The days are a blur, and they're a dream as well. But dreams don't last forever.

[stu-dyingstudent]

Sakura Haruno fic recs: one-shots

Well, the time has come for me to make a list for all of the one-shot warriors!

I'm more of a long fic lover myself, but I certainly do appreciate a good one-shot every so often. There's always the bonus that you're guaranteed an ending too.

Started: 2025.04.26

Last Updated: 2025.05.18

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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That Awkward Conversation - Lady Silvamord || ffn || T || itasaku || post-war AU || one-shot complete

Sakura and Itachi have a rather embarrassing problem. Post-Fourth War AU. Humor.

As it turns out, Itachi may be handsome, but he certainly cannot kiss... Super cute and funny one-shot where Sakura finds the courage to tell Itachi about their "problem" and he makes sure to fix it!

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xenograft - Mixelation || ao3 || T || gen || Orochimaru in Konoha AU || one-shot complete

Orochimaru-sama comes to the Academy and asks for the student with the best calligraphy.

Morally grey Sakura?? Yes please! Orochimaru basically recruits academy Sakura to help out in his labs. I've always thought that Sakura would probably thrive under Orochimaru's teachings (if they were ethical), so Xenograft was quite enjoyable!

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it's history - aobears || ao3 || T || madasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

Haruno Sakura grows up with her own name in her textbooks. Granted it’s not actually her name--she shares it with another, but the woman she shares it with is Uchiha Sakura, and that’s exactly the name she’s been doodling in her notebooks.

Cute time travel where Sakura unknowingly grows up dreaming of being like herself. Everything starts to click together once she's actually had her jutsu mishap and realizes just what happened lol. Consists of her and Madara being dorks.

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once more unto the breach - Jorque || ao3 || T || gen || time loop AU || one-shot complete

Sakura isn't exactly thrilled when she learns that her partner for her first major mission since making chunin would be her old sensei. When that mission turns into an ambush, she's pretty sure that the mission couldn't possibly get any worse. When time starts looping, she decides to stop temping fate.

Super fun time loop fic! As much as I love time travel AU, I actually haven't read many that are loops, but Once More Unto the Breach was great. If you enjoy platonic moments between Kakashi and Sakura (like myself), then you'll certainly want to read this one.

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a deep breath - spideywhiteys || ao3 || T || shisaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

Haruno Sakura hasn't always known what or who she would be. She built a life out of broken bones and scorched what-ifs, lingering daydreams and sharp antiseptic. At the most pivotal moment of their battle against Kaguya she stood shoulder to shoulder with two boys she always fell just short of, and she flew. Then she fell. Three inches to the right and ten years back.

I love I love!!! What can I say? If you're no stranger to my lists then you know I'm a sucker for anything with Shisui. Sakura gets sent back in time, but there also seems to be some genetic modification that happened in the process. Her, Shisui, and Itachi spend their days together and the banter is so fun! Very domestic and/or slice of life at times.

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shaking up and breaking down - SafelyCapricious || ao3 || T || itasaku || time travel || one-shot series

Sakura has died, and ended up in...here. She's still not sure where here is, but she's definitely here and she's going to make sure nothing happens to her precious people even if she has to die (again) to keep them safe.

This is actually a series of one-shots, but you could just read the first and stop if you want. Freshly time travelled Sakura ends up stumbling upon Sasuke and Naruto being kidnapped and steps in. However, things aren't exactly smooth sailing once they get back to the village... It's fun though, trust. Super enjoyable and very minor romance.

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the pretty one - theformerone || ao3 || G || gen || canon divergence || one-shot complete

Kakashi is maybe ten seconds too late to redirect the assassination techniques. Sakura leaps in between them because those who abandon their comrades are worse than scum.

Well, Sakura gets stabbed by Naruto and Sasuke on the hospital rooftop... There's some nice team bonding here as they work past that traumatic incident. Kakashi was great with the kids as well!

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Summer Ending to a Winter Night - Lolibat || ao3 || T || tobisaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

It starts with an injured Inuzuka. As always, the Inuzuka show up completely unannounced, metaphorically knocking on her door by collapsing in a bloody pile right in front of her porch. The dog included. She opens her door, blinks, and looks down. Well, what's a girl gotta do? Leave them for dead?

Very rarely do I stumble across a tobisaku fanfic! Summer Ending to a Winter Night is pretty sweet. Sakura has travel back to the warring states period and just wants to live a simple life in her cottage. However, she just can't turn a blind eye to any injured soul.

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back and then forward - fencesit || ao3 || T || madasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

Her client either doesn't actually know the ninja's name or (equally likely) knows that ninja of this era despise introductions, but Sakura knows the name of her new coworker: Uchiha Madara is standing in front of her, wild-haired and distinctively relaxed, looking no older than her — not quite a teenager anymore, coming into his full adult height and broad shoulders, but much younger than he had looked during the Fourth War.

You guys, this was beyond cute! Like, seriously. Sakura is sent back in time to the warring states period and decides to do some work as a travelling medic. It's there she finds herself, although somewhat briefly, working alongside Madara. Afterwards, they keep in touch and just trust me that the ending is great!

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Let Her Go - jokergirl2001 || ffn || T || sasusaku || post-war AU || one-shot/incomplete

"Sorry Sasuke-kun, I'm busy. Maybe another time?" Sasuke's eyebrows twitched while everyone laughed at the irony.

Note: Based on the author's note, this was intended to be a multi-chapter fic; however, only one chapter was released. I think that it can be read as a one-shot and thus have put it on this list, but it is technically incomplete.

I seriously love this author! The dialogue is so natural and flows easily. This storyline is pretty fun as it's just Sasuke getting teased about him being annoyed that Sakura hasn't spoken to him in a while.

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Early Mornings and Half-Cooked Eggs - OfPaintAndOil || ffn || T || gen || post-war AU || one-shot complete

A post-war torn Sakura Haruno is periodically woken up by Kakashi Hatake, who seems determined to make sure she eats breakfast and not sleep in. He's not the best cook, but his half-cooked eggs are all she can stomach when she can manage to get out of bed. At least he'll read to her in bed, though his choice in literature is questionable. Rated T for depression and PTSD. COMPLETE.

Sakura falls into a post-war depression. I'm fairly certain that this is technically kakasaku, but I read it more in a platonic sense and so that's why I tagged it as gen. You could read it as either imo. Regardless, it's a very genuine story about Kakashi just trying to help Sakura while she's in this state. He isn't overbearing, but he is present and that's what matters.

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I Found You Missing - Wolfy Tales || ffn || T || kakasaku || pen-pal AU || one-shot complete

'They're asking us because these soldiers have absolutely no one left to write home to,' Sakura thought with a frown. So she signs up for the Shinobi Letter Exchange, not realizing how large the consequences would be. - AUish one-shot [KakaSaku]

Sakura ends up becoming Kakashi's pen-pal while he's out fighting in the war. They don't actually meet and/or know each other's identities until near the end I believe. Anyways, this is very well written and such an interesting concept!

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Inconvenience - DeepPoeticGirl || ffn || K+ || sasusaku || genin days || one-shot complete

/Team 7. Very slight SasuSaku./ Sakura unexpectedly gets her period during a mission. One of her teammates is naturally a complete idiot about it, but the other two are surprisingly... not. ONESHOT. Genin!Team 7.

Sasuke is pretty sweet about the fact that Sakura got her period. I wish that more fics explored the idea that genin are also awkward tweens and so they'd be going through the horror of puberty lol.

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The Planets Will Keep Spinning - Shonashee || ffn || K+ || sasusaku || genin days || one-shot complete

The week that Sakura had a crush on Kakashi and was nearly killed for her hair. Otherwise known as just another week with Team 7. / / A slice of life from when they were genin. Sakura-centric.

Honestly, I feel like most people had a crush on their teacher at one point... Sakura ends up seeing Kakashi without his mask and forms a bit of a crush. Kakashi obviously thinks it's pretty funny, but Sasuke and Naruto aren't that thrilled. Pretty cute.

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Bunk Mates - ice bitten || ffn || T || gen || canon divergence || one-shot complete

In which Sasuke and Naruto find out Sakura has been sleeping over at Sai's. Short stories surrounding Sakura, Sai, and the invasive people of Konoha.

Really funny fic where Sakura and Sai become roommates. However, their odd sleeping situation leads to some misunderstandings. I adore Sai, so of course this was such a treat for me! Highly recommend for something fun.

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I forget where we were - snis (a_sassin) || ao3 || M || sasusaku || hunger games AU || one-shot complete

“Sakura, it's me - Kakashi." For a moment she lets herself think. These people have mistaken her for someone else – that, or they’ve kidnapped her and they’re liars. “Who are you, and what do you want with me?”

This is for all of my Hunger Games fans! Set during Catching Fire and basically Sakura is in Peeta's place. There's mentions of torture, etc., but her relationship with Sasuke is very interesting here. I also thought that it was so fitting for Kakashi to be their mentor!

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one step forward (one punch back) - a_sassin || ao3 || T || sasusaku || modern AU || one-shot complete

The one where Sakura partakes in cage fighting to pay her tuition and rent. She has just enough left to feed herself - sparingly - at the end of the day, but it's not so bad.

Thoroughly enjoyed One Step Forward! Something about this fic just has me obsessed. I've always loved boxing and straight up hand-to-hand combat, so Sakura doing cage fighting had me hooked. The entire cast has great characterizations and the post-fic headcanons left by the author were a pleasant surprise!

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I know, I know!! I said that I would be updating my sasusaku list a few weeks ago, but I got lazy and then I wanted to make this one lol. Forgive me TT-TT