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#I decided to post this on Ao3 because I wrote it a while ago
azzandra · 7 months
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Original Work Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Original Characters Additional Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy, Science Fantasy, Dome Cities In Space, Gods as Machines/Machines as Gods, Moderate Amounts of Gallivanting Adventure Series: Part 1 of Transit
Summary:
It's pretty rough out there in space, when your planet's gone and you just sort of have to wander about making the best of it. So the inhabitants of Transit make the best of it.*
*by scavenging parts from other cities.**
**not technically stealing
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secondbeatsongs · 1 year
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iCarly Meta, Part 5: Socko, Nominative Determinism, and How I Spend My Free Time
so, you may remember that I've made four separate iCarly posts before, because I am just way too into this dorky, ridiculous children's show.
well, over a year ago, I wrote this fifth one. and after some introspection, some really deep self-evaluation about what I want and where I'm going in life, I've decided that it's time to share it with the world at large
so...let's talk about Socko's family!
to catch you up: Socko is Spencer's best friend, who designs all of the fun socks that Spencer wears! he's first mentioned in s01e07 (iScream on Halloween), though some of his socks are shown as early as s01e02 (iWant More Viewers).
(technical note: production-wise, s01e09 is listed before s01e07, and I think that was intended to be Socko's introduction, and it would make sense, considering how Spencer describes him in that ep. but I can't prove this, and so we move on.)
while Socko is mentioned consistently throughout the show, he's never fully shown on screen. but, he does technically appear in an episode, because you can see part of his arm in s04e11-s04e13 (iParty with Victorious) when he hands Spencer the keys to his van.
Spencer and Socko have known each other since at least 1999 (as mentioned in s02e12, iRocked the Vote) when Spencer would have been 17 or 18. and despite Socko almost never being shown, it's clear that he spends a lot of time with Spencer, and that they're close. if Spencer needs something, Socko is always willing to call in a favor from one of his family members.
and boy, does Socko have a lot of very interesting family members.
let's go over some of them real quick:
Bernie is a welder, Otto is a used car salesman, Tyler designs neckties, Taylor is a tailor, Rob is a thief, Arty is an artist, Isaac is an optometrist, and Ryder is a motorcycle enthusiast.
are we noticing a pattern here?
every single one of these is an aptronym – a personal name that is aptly or peculiarly suited to its owner. and since all of these people are in some way related, this is fascinating to me.
it seems like Socko's family is really into nominative determinism – the idea that people tend to gravitate towards areas of work that fit their names. whether or not this is true of people in real life is unclear, but in the universe of iCarly, this is something that Socko's family is all about.
when did it start, I wonder? who was the first in the family to have a job or hobby that related directly to their name? and who continued that pattern? because someone named Bernard going by "Bernie" and taking up welding is one thing, but an entire family of people going into fields that have to do with their names is unsettling.
is this on purpose, now? do the parents in Socko's family choose names for their children based on what they want them to be? is there an expectation that each child will have to choose a profession based on what their parents name them?
I think there is. and I think it's fucked up.
imagine growing up knowing that your name would control your future career options. that no matter how you felt about your name, choosing a career or hobby that matched it is what would make your parents happy. that at least some portion of your parents' love is tied to the idea that you will be what they named you.
and depending on the name, the kids aren't always left with a lot of options! someone named Bernie could be a welder, a woodburning artist, a firefighter, etc...but for Taylor, there's really only one path to take.
what if a kid is trans? I just have to wonder, would they be judged more for not identifying with their assigned sex at birth, or for changing their name?
and one of Socko's cousins is named Mary. think about that with me for a second – Mary.
imagine that the only dream your parents have for you is that you get married. and not just fall in love! no, you were given this name because their express purpose, their biggest hope for you is that you get legally married.
what if Mary had been gay? what if she grew up with fear in her heart, knowing that the only thing her parents had ever wanted from her wasn't possible, was actually illegal, because of who she was?
or what if she had been aro, or ace, or just otherwise not interested in relationships? or what if she was interested in relationships, but not the serious, legal commitment of marriage?
my hope here (my one fragile hope) is that Rob, Mary, and Josh are siblings, and that their parents were trying to escape this part of the family legacy. maybe they named their kids Robert, Marian, and Joshua, and tried to steer clear of any obvious career choices – but then their sons started going by "Josh" and "Rob" and causing trouble, and "Mary" started talking about her upcoming wedding, and they knew that they would never be free of the family curse.
'cause it's gotta be a curse, right? I feel like at this point, it has to be.
but hey, worry not! because I think there are some loopholes.
Penny, for example, had a lot of choices – she could have minted coins, or built fences, or designed ball-point pens, or been a cashier (etc, etc). but she didn't do any of those things! she started a t-shirt company, and made shirts with fun phrases on them like "church pants" and "parole baby" and "chest words" (all shirts I would wear for real).
her job didn't have anything to do with her name – but she still followed the family pattern. she named her t-shirt company "Penny-Tees", and sewed a single penny into each of her shirts. instead of finding a name-based occupation, she made her own.
I really think it's brilliant – she got to do what she wanted, and her parents couldn't complain, because it still suited her name! and if this pattern is curse-based, she found a way around it by following it to the letter (but not exactly the spirit), and because of this, she got to make her own choices.
and speaking of jobs that may or may not suit one's name: let's talk about Socko.
early in the show when we're introduced to him, we know three things about him:
he knows where to find huge pumpkins
he sells Spencer all of his wacky socks
his name is Socko
but, thinking about that third point…is it?
like, is his name actually Socko?
let's look at Socko's family tree for a moment:
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(ID in alt text)
(yes, I made this. it took over two days. I skimmed through many episodes, looked through a large amount of the old iCarly website on the Wayback Machine, and as far as I know, this is canon accurate.)
(shhh, this was absolutely a valuable use of my time. don't worry about it.)
look at his family. look at the names.
almost all of them are, well…normal names. names that could belong to any acquaintance, friend, or relative in your own everyday life.
the only real exceptions here are Freight Dog, Boomer, and Dr. Paxil – but if we're being real? "Freight Dog" is almost definitely a nickname, "Paxil" isn't that strange-sounding of a surname, and I have actually seen people named "Boomer".
so that just leaves…Socko.
"Socko" is not a people name. it sounds mean, but I don't know how else to word that – it's just not a name for a human person.
it would be a great name for a cat or a dog (especially if they had paws that were a different color from their body – man, that'd be so cute!), but it is not a name that many parents would willingly give to a human child. especially when all of the other siblings in the family have relatively normal names.
my theory, my hottest take: I don't think "Socko" is his legal name.
think about it: Socko and every single one of his siblings went into the fashion industry. even accounting for the fact that they probably wanted Penny to have a different career, would Socko's parents really want all three of their other children going into the same industry, especially one as tumultuous and challenging as fashion design?
I think not. I think they gave Socko a different name, one that they believed would lead him down a completely distinct career path. and then, like Penny, Socko found his own true calling – but instead of changing his occupation to match his name? he changed his name to match his occupation.
it is my belief that Socko's birth name…the name his parents gave him…
(drumroll please)
…was "Socrates".
now hold on, just stay with me here. because I swear that this does make sense, really!
so, back at the beginning of this post I mentioned nominative determinism, but that term wasn't actually used until 1994. before then, it was called "onomastic determinism" or "die verpflichtung des namens" ("the obligation of the name"), but it wasn't really…a thing? it wasn't something that people really studied, and when they did, nobody could seem to come to a solid conclusion about whether or not your name does actually influence your career choice.
I think that in some way, Socko's parents wanted an answer. they wanted an explanation as to why their family tree reads like a joke book. and by naming their kid "Socrates", they were sending that question out into the world, hoping for a response.
because there were really two options here – either Socko would grow up to be a philosopher, someone who could search for meaning in the pattern of family job-finding, or he wouldn't. and if he didn't, if he threw off the shackles of his name and did something else entirely, then that in itself would be an answer.
and sure, maybe his parents should have thought about how "Socrates" might be abbreviated. maybe they should have considered that he could grow up to design socks. but hindsight is 20/20, and I don't know if that's something any parent would expect of their child, so I won't hold that against them.
I will however, judge them for naming two of their kids "Taylor" and "Tyler" – like, my god. can you imagine how often people got them mixed up? it's inhumane.
even worse if they were twins! though actually, that would make some kind of twisted sense – to give twins names that not only match, but that would lead them to careers in the same industry. maybe they wanted them to go into business together? hoo boy.
anyway, sorry, I've gone off-topic. back to Socko – or should I say, Socrates.
"Socrates" is a pretty fun name. two parts of it are σῶς (sôs, “safe and sound”) and κράτος (krátos, “power”), which is an interesting name meaning for a dude who was executed for corrupting the youth.
(I'm talking about the philosopher here – as far as I know, Socko from iCarly was not executed for corrupting the youth. at least, not yet.)
and if we keep thinking about Socrates (the philosopher), I think there's another reason that this name fits: we know fuck-all about Socrates.
sure, he's well-known – lots of people know about his ideas, and the Socratic method – but…he never actually wrote anything. everything we think we know about him, we learned from somebody else.
all of Socrates' interests, his skills, his beliefs? they were all things we learned from Plato, Xenophon, or (I guess) Aristophanes. we have no idea what the dude was actually like, outside of that.
just like we have no idea what Socko is like, outside of what Spencer says.
Socrates is a vital figure in the history of western philosophy, but all of the things we know about him are altered by the opinions of other people, filtered through the lenses of their perception.
and Socko is a vital character in the show iCarly, but all of the things we know about him – his hobbies, his opinions, his wants – are things we've heard second-hand from Spencer.
(you're laughing. Spencer Shay is a stand-in for Plato, and you're laughing.)
so in a very fun way, Socko (Socrates) did live up to his name…by being unknown to us, the audience.
us, watching this TV show the way chained prisoners watch shadows dance on the wall of a cave.
continuing down this rabbit hole…does this mean that one of the iCarly crew is Aristotle?
no…perhaps that's taking it too far.
(it'd be Gibby)
final notes:
I haven't seen all of the iCarly reboot yet (I'm on episode 3! I have mixed feelings, but I think one of the writers ships the thing that I ship, so that's fun), so if it mentions something about Socko lore, I unfortunately do not know about it.
fun fact: the ancient Greeks did often have names that were meant to have sway on their lives! for example: Hedistē ("most delightful"), Demotimos ("honored among the people"), Hippodamas ("horse-tamer"), Nikomachē ("victorious in battle").
additional fun fact: I asked one of the mods of the iCarly wiki, and they said I could put the family tree I made on the page for Socko's Family! :D
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look! it's my thing! the thing that I made! how cool is that?!
(I'll be real; I am way too proud of this)
yes, two of Socko's family members have inaptronyms instead of aptronyms: Harry (bald) and Jean (allergic to denim). but in my mind, they still count – the names are still weirdly suited to their specific lives.
since I'm pretty sure "Freight Dog" is a nickname, I also took a crack at what I think his legal name might be. my theory? "Aaron".
(get it? Aaron? because he's in the air? okay, I'll see myself out.)
anyway, my new hobby is coming up with more family members for Socko to have. descend with me into the deepest reaches of The Headcanon Zone, and behold:
Lisa: She's a landlord (she leases apartments). Socko hates her.
Barry: A big ol' bear of a man. Or he could work for Gund or Build-a-Bear or something. That could be fun!
Mike: Audio technician
Amy: Sharpshooter
Summer: Camp counselor
Tony: Orthopedist. (toe-knee)
Marty: Owns and operates a supermarket
and because it's fun, my friend @wonderbound joined in and came up with these super great ones:
Drew: Illustrator
Cody: Programmer or hacker
Pete: Bryologist (he studies moss!)
Norm: He's just a guy
Flo: Plumber – or maybe, an expert in fluid dynamics
Hattie: Milliner (she makes hats)
Howl: Werewolf (or perhaps, the owner of a moving castle 👀)
Will: Estate planning attorney (he writes wills)
anyway, I think that's about it. thanks for coming with me on this adventure! I hope it was as much of a rollercoaster to read as it was to write, because yeah, it was a weird one over here.
I mean, it started out normal? but then the next thing I knew, I had gotten invested, made nine edits to the iCarly wiki, and designed that whole family tree. so I think maybe I went a little overboard with this one. xD
tune in next time, for…I dunno. I think my brain needs a break after that. but, eventually I would love to write more meta! just…maybe not all for iCarly? I have some things to say about Gravity Falls that I think are gonna blow your minds.
(not really; I just think it's great)
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cleo-fox · 1 year
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Movie Night
Summary: You’re not really sure why Loki shows up for your movie nights. He never seems to like the movies, even when he picks them, and every movie you watch together is accompanied by a litany of dry complaints and general sarcasm from him. This is partly why it always ends up being just the two of you—the others don’t have the patience to put up with it. You generally think it’s funny, so you’ve never rescinded his invitation.
That and…you kind of have a thing for him.
Pairing: Loki/Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, couch sex, quiet sex, praise kink, friends to lovers, making out, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, praise kink.
A/N: I’m working on cross posting all my stuff from AO3. I wrote this a little while ago in an effort to address some writer’s block (it didn’t work, but I had fun writing it). This is also on AO3.
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You’re not really sure why Loki shows up for your movie nights. He never seems to like the movies, even when he picks them, and every movie you watch together is accompanied by a litany of dry complaints and general sarcasm from him. This is partly why it always ends up being just the two of you—the others don’t have the patience to put up with it. You generally think it’s funny, so you’ve never rescinded his invitation.
That and you’ve got a little bit of a thing for him. You think he might have some interest in you, but you’re not certain enough to make the first move.
You look forward to your movie nights, but when this particular Friday night rolls around, you’re absolutely dragging by the time the clock strikes eight, thanks to a bad night of sleep the previous evening. Before the movie even starts, you’re wrapping yourself in the soft throw from your room and curling up, pillowing your head on the arm of the couch.
“I didn’t realize I would have such riveting company this evening,” says Loki dryly.
You roll your eyes and stretch obnoxiously, purposely shoving your feet into his lap. “I was up ‘til three this morning, give me a break.”
“Surely you need your full wits about you to appreciate the nuance of this fine cinema.”
He’s being sarcastic; you decide to ignore it because that will annoy him the most. You stifle a yawn and give him your most beatific smile before hunkering back down under your blanket. Loki grumbles something indeterminate, but he doesn’t shove your feet off his lap—in fact, he drapes his arm over your ankles like it’s not a big deal at all.
This simple gesture warms you from the inside out and sends a flurry of butterflies fluttering through your stomach. You are pretty sure nothing is going to come of it—stuff like this has been going on for months and nothing has happened—but it’s still nice. You have no idea what it means, but it’s nice.
You’re not entirely surprised that you fall asleep during the movie—you are tired and while you don’t necessarily want to admit that any of Loki’s cinematic complaints have merit, the movie really wasn’t very good. Between that and your cozy blanket, it’s a recipe for an unintentional nap.
It’s dark when you wake up. You don’t really remember falling asleep, though you think it must have been about halfway through the film, based on the last hazy bit of dialogue you can recall.
You certainly don’t remember Loki sliding over on the couch to join you. But here he is, spooned up against your back, arms snaking around your waist, and the blanket tucked neatly over the two of you.
It’s dark and quiet and his breath is warm and even against the back of your neck. You’re reasonably certain that he’s asleep, though you wouldn’t necessarily bet money on it.
You consider your options. You probably should get up before someone wanders in and finds you like this, but…you don’t want to. You are wildly attracted to Loki—there’s no denying that—and the feeling of his strong arms wrapped snugly around your waist and the warmth of his broad chest pressing against your back is far too intoxicating to give up, even though you’re currently tangled up with him in a common area.
Still…you’re not entirely sure what to do about this. At some point, you’ll both need to go to your respective beds. Pretending to be asleep when he wakes is almost certainly not an option—he’ll somehow know that you’re faking and he’ll absolutely call you out on it, which will make the whole thing worse. Going back to sleep is tempting, but it presents its own set of risks.
But then…why did he curl up with you like this? Surely he wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t find you appealing in some way. Maybe you don’t actually need an exit strategy? Maybe you can just enjoy it. You’re a bit too comfortable, sleepy, and distracted to think properly, anyway. You allow yourself to relax further into his embrace.
And then you feel his cock twitch against your ass.
It’s almost impressive how quickly your body shifts from content and pleasantly sleepy to wide awake and intensely aroused. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s a calm and rational voice saying you’re being ridiculous, but this is easily drowned out by the growing ache between your thighs.
You press your thighs together and try to take slow and even breaths, but it doesn’t really help. If you weren’t sure what to do before, now you’re at a complete loss. The safe assumption would be to chalk it up to biology and timing and move on, but it’s really difficult to do that when you’ve been locked in this flirty back and forth with him for months and you want him as much as you do.
You feel him twitch again and you bite your lip as the ache between your thighs pulses in a kind of answer, the slickness growing. Your breath is quiet, but shallow, your heart thrumming in your throat.
You’re trying to keep perfectly still, but between your aching core and the slight kink in your hip from the way you’re positioned on the couch, doing so is easier said than done. You hold out for as long as you can before you give in and shift your hips slightly, trying to be as subtle as possible.
He stirs in his sleep and pulls you closer, his cock pressing hard against your ass. You’re not sure if he’s awake—his breath is still coming slow and even against the back of your neck—but you can’t quite suppress the way your own breath stutters in your throat when you feel him against you. 
God, you want him.
He flexes his fingers where they are splayed against your stomach. You feel the tip of his nose brush against the curve of your neck.
“Will you admit now that you want me?” he says. His voice is low and intimate and calls to mind dark silk and smoke.
“I didn’t know that you wanted me to,” you say, which is true—whatever’s been brewing between you has been subtle, more sidelong glances than lustful stares; you’ve never spoken about it.
“Don’t play coy with me, pet,” he says, his voice a soft growl against your neck. “I have enjoyed the chase, but I’ve no more patience for games.”
The slickness between your thighs increases at the slight roughness in his voice. His lips graze the shell of your ear and you let out a sharp breath.
“Admit it.” He catches your earlobe between his teeth and gently sucks it into his mouth.
“Fuck,” you gasp, your back arching slightly against him.
“In due time,” he says, his hips pressing back against you. “Answer me first.”
You roll over so that you’re facing him. The sharp, angular planes of his face are flattered by the faint, moody blue light from the sleeping city outside. He stares openly, brazenly, at your lips, his hand resting on your waist.
“What happens if I do?” you ask.
He gives you a wolfish smile and his hand strokes down your waist to your thigh. He pulls your leg up and over his hip, drawing you toward him so that his cock presses against your clothed heat. You have to bite your lip to hold back a moan, but you’re pretty sure he catches the slight hitch in your breath.
“You’re a clever girl,” he says, “I’m sure you can work it out.”
When you’ve thought about this moment before—and you’ve admittedly thought about it a lot—you’ve always imagined yourself smirking right back at him, meeting his clever quips with barbs of your own until he’s forced to admit how much he wants you. But you’re not quite prepared for the way that your brain abruptly short circuits at the feeling of his thick, hard cock pressing against your clit through the thin fabric of your leggings or how his gaze is a thousand times hungrier in the dark than it was in your imagination. It feels thrilling and sexy being here with him like this, tangled up in the dead of night in the middle of the common area. Clever quips and keeping him hanging seem like an impossibility several times over.
He seems to sense that your resolve is faltering because his hand slides to your lower back and he rocks his hips against you ever so slightly, giving you just a taste of that beautiful friction.
“Admit it.” It’s not a question this time and a pleasant shiver runs up your spine.
You lick your lips. “I—I want you.”
His smile is like sin. “Good girl.”
You’re practically trembling with want when he kisses you, so slow and sensual that it makes you whimper when his tongue strokes past your lips and into your mouth.
He moves in a languid, almost lazy way that makes you dizzy with need. He’s completely unhurried, but there’s a tension in his body that tells you he’s barely holding back, that he wants you a lot more than what he’s saying.
You almost don’t notice his hand sliding from your back to your hip and then ghosting along your stomach until he slips it under the band of your leggings.
“How much do you want me?” he asks as his fingers trail lightly along the fabric of your underwear.
“You can’t tell?” you ask, trying and mostly failing to keep your voice level.
“I like to be certain,” he says.
“You just like hearing me say it,” you say.
His eyes glitter as his hand slips under the elastic of your underwear and slowly creeps downward. “And why shouldn’t I like hearing you tell me how much you want me?”
“I—” His hand is so close to where you need him. He runs one finger right along the edge of your slit and your breath catches. “I—I don’t…”
He raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You don't…?”
“I…” Your mind is blissfully blank and every fiber of your being is focused on his hand and your aching clit. “I—I don’t…remember the question.”
You think you must have surprised him a little because he laughs in a way that makes his eyes light up, even in the moody blue half dark of the room. But after a brief moment he refocuses and his fingers slowly part your dripping folds and finally stroke your throbbing clit.
“Oh fuck,” you breathe, a moan catching in your throat.
“As I thought,” he tuts. “You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” You nod and he makes a scolding sound. “Say it. Tell me what you need.”
You can feel your cheeks heat, which is ridiculous given that he’s got his hand down your pants. You lick your lips. “I need to come.”
“And what do you want me to do about that?” His fingers circle your clit lightly and retreat.
You shiver, your hips rolling forward, searching out his fingers. “Touch me.”
“How?”
You bite back a whimper as his fingers trace a circuit around your clit, avoiding your obvious need. “Please, Loki.”
“I need you to be more specific, darling,” he purrs. Your hips roll forward and he retreats again.
“You know what I want,” you say.
His smile is sharp. “Have we not established that I like hearing you say such things?” His fingers bypass your clit again. “Tell me how you want me to touch you. Tell me what you want.”
Your pride—or what remains of it—has slowly eroded to nothing. You lick your lips. You need him.
“I—I need you to touch me,” you say again. “I want you to rub my clit until I come on your fingers.”
His smile is vulpine but his fingers finally roll over your clit, lightly circling it. You breathe out, your hips rocking with his hand.
“Absolutely drenched,” he murmurs. “You’re a proper mess, my love.”
“It’s because you’re such a fucking tease,” you say, your hands sliding up to grip his shoulders.
His eyebrows rise. “I’m a tease? Am I not giving you everything that you asked for?”
“After amping me up,” you retort.
“And I’m taking care of that now, aren’t I? I’m touching you just like you begged me to.” He changes the movement of his hand slightly, fingers rolling across the most sensitive part of your clit. You suck in a deep breath and his eyes darken as he readjusts his hand to hit that spot again. “And you obviously like it. I daresay you need it.”
Your head tips back as your hips rock with his hand. You can feel your orgasm beginning to build and for the first time, it occurs to you that you are doing this in the middle of a common area. Reluctant as you are to stop, you can’t help but think it might be best to relocate.
“Should—fuck, yes, just like that—should we go back to your room? Or mine?” you manage to gasp.
“I don’t see why that’s necessary.”
“S-someone might hear,” you gasp as his fingers massage your slick and swollen clit.
The white of his teeth flashes in the dark as he continues to touch you. “Then I suggest you keep quiet,” he says, his voice rough.
You manage to raise an eyebrow. “You don’t want to hear me?”
Another sharp smile. “Later.” His eyes darken. “You’ve kept me from my prize long enough. I rather think you’ve earned this little game.”
“I thought you had no more patience for games,” you manage to say.
He smiles and it occurs to you that he likes it when you talk back, perhaps just as much as you enjoy him putting you in your place. “Oh, I think I rather like this game,” he says, his fingers suddenly slowing, but still exerting a firm pressure on your clit. “How hard will you come for me? How quiet can you be?” His eyes darken again. “Or perhaps you don’t want to be quiet. Perhaps you want to be heard. Perhaps you want the others to know exactly what I’m doing to you.”
You shudder despite yourself.
“Wicked girl,” he murmurs appreciatively. “Letting me touch you out here in the open like this. Anyone could walk in here and see.”
“You’d really let that happen?” you ask. “I didn’t take you for the type who likes to share.”
The hunger in his eyes increases tenfold and you know this was the right thing to say. “Oh, I don’t share, darling. Especially not you.” He increases the speed of his fingers ever so slightly and your breath catches, the tension in your hips building. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? How many times I’ve thought about ravishing you until you forget every name but mine? How many times I’ve imagined you wet and begging for my cock?” His voice drops to a low rasp. “I have gone to bed hard and aching for you more nights than I can count.”
His words and his fingers are a wonderful and wicked combination. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his ink dark hair and pulling him in to kiss you. He does, but with such a lazy restraint that you can’t help but whimper a little, trying to press yourself closer as your hips rock with his hand. You’re reaching the place in the lead up to your orgasm where you’re so desperate to come that you feel like you’d do almost anything. It’s a heady place, with an edge of danger and you think that Loki must have an inkling of it based on the way his eyes darken.
“Did you think of me like this? Did you touch yourself, imagining the feeling of my hands on your body?”
“I—”
He must catch the slight hesitation in your eyes because that firm authority returns to his voice. “Tell me.”
Panting, you nod and earn another one of those dark and hungry smiles.
“How many times did you make yourself come while thinking of me?”
You don’t know the answer to that. Partly because it was like…several times a week. For the last six months. At least.
“A lot,” you finally manage.
His smile is devilish as he kisses you. “You’re going to come at least twice as hard for me tonight.”
The muscles of your cunt clench tightly around nothing. You need him so badly. Have you ever needed anyone like this? You’re fairly sure you haven’t. You’re getting close, your hips rolling with the stroke of his hand.
“Tell me how much you need it,” he purrs. “Tell me how you need to fall apart on my fingers.”
“Loki—”
“Tell me.”
“Please—I’m so close—”
“Tell me and I’ll let you come. Be a good girl for me, darling, and I’ll give you everything you need.”
You gasp. “Fuck, Loki, I—fuck, I need to come—I need you—”
You’re not sure how he manages it—perhaps there’s some magic involved, perhaps it’s luck or skill—but you start to come the moment the words leave your lips. The edges of your vision blur slightly as your orgasm overtakes you, roaring up from your hips and bursting like fireworks in the night sky. You gasp, trying to hold in a moan, but a slight whimper escapes you before Loki’s mouth covers your own, claiming you in a hungry kiss. His hand is still moving, fingers still circling your clit.
“Oh, yes,” he breathes against your lips. “Oh that’s lovely.”
It seems to last a long time, drawing out in long waves that make your toes curl. He kisses you throughout, until you very nearly lose track of where you end and he begins. All the while, his fingers keep rubbing your clit, extending your pleasure and making you shudder.
You can feel his cock still pressing against your hip and you want nothing more than to take him in your hands and make him feel just as good as he made you feel.
“I want to touch you,” you say and you’re treated to another one of those hungry smiles before he starts undoing the fastenings of his trousers. His cock finally springs free and you suck in a deep breath. He’s big—easily the biggest you’ve ever had—and you can’t help the ache that courses through you.
It’s immensely rewarding hearing his breath hitch when you take him in your hand. You’re surprised by how warm he is—you’d expect a Frost Giant to run a little cooler, but he’s hot and throbbing. You stroke him slowly from base to tip, squeezing his shaft ever so slightly.
His head tips back and he lets out a very quiet groan before reaching to push your hand away. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I’m sorry—” you start to say.
“I need you now,” he says, tugging your leggings and underwear down and off, his voice conveying both authority and desperation in a way that makes you ache.
He pulls you to him, drawing your leg up over his hip to spread you open. He rubs the tip of his cock along your slit, coating himself in your slickness and taking every opportunity to tease your clit.
He finally settles himself at your entrance and slowly begins easing into you.
He kisses you and it’s a good thing he does because you’re so slick and wound up that the dull, blunt stretch of his cock sliding inside of you unexpectedly tips you right back over the edge, pulling a soft moan from your lips as you come on his cock. You almost have a mind to be embarrassed—you’ve hardly begun and you’re already coming undone—but the feral glint in Loki’s eyes is enough to make you forget all about it.
“Like I said: you’re absolutely desperate for it, ” he says, pressing even deeper inside of you. “And you’re taking me so well.” He withdraws slightly and pushes forward again and you bury your face in his neck to hide your moan.
His fingers slide between your legs to find your clit. “I want to feel you come again,” he says, gently beginning to stroke you as he thrusts again. “You feel exquisite.”
It doesn’t take very long for him to build you back up—the steady thrust of his cock stroking your slick walls just right and his fingers expertly circling your clit is more than enough to take you there. It’s all so good and the way he’s kissing you is making you dizzy in the best way.
“I can feel you, darling,” he purrs in your ear. “Let go. Come on my cock like a good girl.”
With a few more thrusts, you do. You bury your face in his shoulder, trying to muffle your moans as much as possible.
“That’s it, yes,” he growls as he fucks you through the aftershocks. His brow is furrowed and his focus is intent and you can tell he’s getting close.
“Loki,” you breathe.
Even though he’s in the process of losing his composure, he still manages a wicked grin. “One more for me, love,” he rasps.
You’re not sure if you can manage another, to be quite frank. “Loki, I—”
“One more,” he says again, his eyes flashing. “One more and I’ll fill your tight, perfect cunt with my seed. One more and I’ll make you mine.”
His words send something electric and primal racing up your spine and quite suddenly, you find yourself hurtling toward the release you didn’t think you had in you. A choked whimper catches in your throat and you are trembling in his arms and with one last shudder, you come hard.
“Nearly there.” His words are punctuated by gasps, his hips never faltering in their rhythm.
His hips snap hard against you and he throws his head back, his face rapt in ecstasy, lost to a pure pleasure as he comes. He’s staggeringly beautiful in this moment and you’re filled with a feral kind of possessiveness—he is yours and you don’t want to share this moment or this feeling or this man with anyone else. It’s a startling thought—one you know that you know you’ll need to interrogate at some point—but you decide that it can wait until later. He starts kissing you and it nearly takes your breath away—it’s soft and tender and still so decadent it feels like it should be forbidden.
You want to stay in this moment with him, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock still pressed inside of you, but you know it can’t last. Something in your chest aches as he pulls away from you, vanishes the mess and tucks himself back into his trousers. He slowly stands up and you suddenly feel so much colder than you were before.
But before you can start to wallow in that misery, he’s bending down and scooping you up into his arms, throw blanket and all.
Before you can even think to ask where he’s taking you, you’re in his rooms and he’s placing you gently on the bed.
“Oh, so now you want privacy,” you say as you watch him quickly strip off his clothes, your gaze lingering on every emerging detail like you’re a woman starved.
He smirks and joins you in bed, covering your body with his and kissing you deeply as he pulls off the rest of your clothes. The feeling of his bare skin on yours is so dizzying that it takes you a moment to realize that he’s hard again.
“Already?” you say with a disbelieving laugh.
His smile is sin dripped in syrup. “I am a god, pretty girl.”
The ache between your legs returns and he kisses you like he knows it.
“And this time,” he says, his eyes glittering with want, “I want to hear you scream for me.”
You are more than happy to oblige.
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ao3-shenanigans · 9 days
Note
Hi! Just a thing I wrote in honor of Comment Day. Maybe you might want to read/share it?
Every writer I have never known a writer is always happy to get positive feedback, but some readers believe if they leave kudos or a comment, they’re bothering the writer. Here’s a comparison that might explain why that isn’t the case.
Imagine that the fanfic is a play, and the author has worked really hard on the whole thing: costumes, scenery, the plot, characterization, everything. It’s opening night. The stage manager (AO3) gives the author the headcount (hit number) of the audience (the readers). The writer is now able to imagine 10 or 100 or 1000 people sitting in the audience, watching what they have created. While a big number is fantastic, most writers are thrilled anyone wants to see what they’ve made.
When the play is over, the writer comes out to take a bow.  One hundred people are in the audience.
Two people clap (left a kudos).
Everyone else gets up and walks out in silence.
Obviously, the writer is happy these two people clapped, but they’re also thinking, “Did… did the other 98 people hate it? Were those pity claps? Was it that bad?”
That’s what’s happening on AO3. A fantastic single-chapter fic will get over a thousand hits and wind up with maybe 5 to 10% of those readers leaving kudos. The other 90% could include people re-reading, and numbers get more complicated with multichapter fics since readers can leave kudos only once.
But essentially, a lot of readers see a fic as being more like a movie, where the audience just leaves at the end. It’s even harder for an “older” fic (“older” can sometimes be applied to fics posted only a month ago), where the “play” has been running a while, the author is still there doing everything, but now people decide since it’s not new, there’s no point in showing they liked it.
Maybe one in a hundred readers, sometimes fewer, leaves a written comment. This is like hearing someone in that theater cheering. If it’s a piece of feedback that’s more detailed than a keysmash or an “I like this,” that person is giving the author a standing ovation. And if someone recommends the fic somewhere, maybe saying so in a comment, it’s like getting a rave review on the cover of the New York Times!
All of these are happy things. Kudos, comments of any length, recs, all of them make an author’s day shiny and happy. They’re absolutely fantastic! No writer is bothered by anyone doing these things.
Maybe you’re still thinking, okay, I can see I’m not bothering the writer, but does just writing “I really enjoyed this fic” do anything?
Yes. Because there are the other, less happy responses. Some comments might be demands, making the comment less about thanking the writer and more turning it into a to do list for them. Some authors see their work has been bookmarked only to realize it has a note like “this is awful” or “TLDR” or “started okay but was stupid by the end.” The default for bookmarks is everyone can see them. Finally, anyone who has written fic for any length of time has dealt with flames. These aren’t constructive criticism; they’re flat out abuse, ranging from name calling to highly detailed insults that are the exact reverse of a long, happy comment. Authors look in their email, see someone has commented on their fic, and are thrilled, only to read the comment and be told they are worthless, stupid, untalented. Everyone gets these sometimes, and writers should ignore them, but most of us have sometimes cried over them. Picture that same theater full of silent people, with one or two people clapping, and suddenly someone stands up and starts booing and hurling rotten tomatoes on stage. Readers might not even know it’s happening since writers usually delete those comments. But they still sting.
Kudos and compliments are not annoying anyone. Flames, on the other hand, are awful. The difference is the polite reader who chooses to say nothing out of shyness backs away from doing something that will make the writer happy, while the rude reader actively goes out of their way to make the writer unhappy.
I’ve been in fandom quite a while. Interaction has dropped since the old days, and it’s even dropped off over time at AO3. I’m not sure why, unless it’s that readers regard hits as being like views on TikTok. Since TikTok’s algorithm chooses what will show up more often in people’s feeds based on views, that makes some sense there, but AO3 doesn’t do that. There is no popularity contest writers are winning through views. Unless you tell them, they may think you hated what they wrote and that the flames are the genuine overall reaction.
The moral? If you love something, or even like it, show the writer some appreciation. The second it takes to leave a kudos might make them feel happy the whole day.
Comments and Kudos are probably some of the best gifts to give your favorite artists and storytellers (they’re free and easy too!)
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eternalmoonlight18 · 2 months
Text
Please Please Please (Don't Prove 'Em Right) Chapter 3
Trafaglar Law x afab Female!Reader
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Warnings: a tiny bit suggestive content if you squint
Summary:
You are the Heart Pirates' beloved cook and sniper. However, you were also an insufferable troublemaker who always seemed to get on Law's nerves. He swears he's going to get rid of you one day, but as much as he hates it, why does he find you fascinating? Was it because you reminded him of someone he was greatly fond of?
As your relationship with Law grows, he only hopes you don't fucking embarrass him. After all, he has an image to uphold as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
This story starts off as short stories between (Y/N), Law and the Heart Pirates, then picks up into the One Piece canon timeline, starting from Punk Hazard. This is a slow-burn Law x Female Reader story!
Updates every Sunday!
Cross-posted in Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57651295/chapters/146705491
Chapter 3: Happy Birthday Captain!
Chapter summary: It was the first time in 3 weeks that Law decided to surface the Polar Tang to dock at an island before heading into the New World. But as soon as he hops off the submarine, you launch your biggest and most exciting plan yet: hosting a birthday party for your dear captain Law! But for your plan to work, you need to avoid and distract him before the party!
Notes: I created a taglist. Let me know if you want to be a part of it! I flew back home today and wrote this on the plane lol. Also, this is more of a fluffy chapter hope you guys enjoy it!
PS. I also made changes to the previous chapters, now saying Law was 25 instead of 26 so that it can fit in the story lol
wc: 5.3k
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Penguin and Shachi were sitting in the boiler room. They just finished patching up the damage they made from a week ago when you and the two men were playing ice water poker. It was insanely hot in the boiler room since it was below the submarine, so Penguin and Shachi had their boiler suits unzipped and tied to their waist by the sleeves. 
Shachi fell to the floor and slumped on the nearby wall. "Man, I am so tired. I'm also bored, and I hope the captain decides to surface soon to dock at an island," he complained.
Penguin looked down at him and nodded his head in agreement. "It's been 4 weeks since we surfaced. It's starting to heat up like crazy in the Tang and if we don't surface soon we'll be boiled alive here." he sighed. 
Before Shachi was going to continue the conversation, the two men heard stomping that was coming near them. Then suddenly, the door of the boiler room burst open. It was Bepo.
"Penguin! Shachi! Get up!" the Mink said with urgency.
Shachi scrambled to get up while Penguin looked at Bepo in confusion. "Why did you lug your big ass into the boiler room like that? What happened?" Penguin inquired.
The bear shamefully put his head down and muttered an apology.
Shachi pinched Penguin's butt. The poor man yelped in surprise at the unusual action of his best friend. "You shithead! What was that for?"
Shachi grunted and ignored him. "Bepo, is something the matter?" he asked.
Bepo's head suddenly perked up. "We're going to surface in an hour! And we're docking at a nearby island!"
Penguin and Shachi started jumping in glee. "Finally! I missed going to bars and hitting up ladies!" they both chanted.
However, their cheers were suddenly interrupted. "You will not be doing that," you called out behind Bepo. You suddenly stepped out and presented yourself to your crew-mates who had no idea about your presence. 
The three of them screamed in shock. Bepo screamed the loudest.
"(Y/N)-SAN!!! DON'T FRIGHTEN ME LIKE THAT!" the bear screamed.
You let out a hearty laugh and waved your hand. "Sorry sorry." you apologized. You felt a glare being sent your way. You turned your head to see that Shachi and Penguin were staring holes into you, clearly agitated that you scared them. You rolled your eyes and huffed.
"Anyways, you will not be going to bars, nor are you hitting up the ladies when we surface." you declared.
Shachi huffed in annoyance and Penguin made a sour face. "And why would we not do that? You're not our captain so don't tell us what to do!" Penguin angrily retorted.
You glared back at them. "Did you forget that the captain's birthday was tomorrow?" 
The two men stood still. "Aw shit we almost forgot! The captain is turning 26!" Penguin said in realization. 
"We're terrible friends, I've known him since he was 14 and I forgot his birthday?" Shachi sighed.
Your eyes suddenly gleamed with mischievousness. Bepo shivered at the sight. He knew your look; it meant you were up to no good. 
"Exactly, so you better help me with this huge party I'm planning to throw for our dear captain." you cheekily replied. 
Bepo looked at the two men in front of him, and they both returned eye contact. It seemed like they were silently coordinating their answers. Then Bepo suddenly turned around and glanced down to face you. 
"Okay (Y/n)-san, we're in. What do you need us to do?" Bepo asked.
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The Heart Pirates were gathered at the dock of the Polar Tang. They were rapidly approaching the land of destination, which was apparently, according to Bepo who was the navigator of the crew, a tropical island. Law was displeased since he hailed from the North Blue where it was constantly cold and snowing, but for the sake of restocking supplies, he decided that it was best for the crew to settle for the night before heading into the New World. 
Law stood near the bow of the submarine dock. He was donning his signature spotted hat that was shaped like a cap. He discarded his usual floor-long black coat and opted for a white wifebeater with spotted blue jeans, along with his usual black shoes. He had his arms folded while he was instructing the crew on what needed to be done. 
"Alright everyone, we are docking here and staying for the night. It's been 3 weeks since we last surfaced and we need to restock on supplies. Ikkaku and Bepo, restock on medical supplies because SOMEBODY," Law quickly glared at you before continuing, "ran our month's worth of medical gauzes dry."
The crew broke out in a small fit of laughter. You rolled your eyes as you muttered; "Whatever."
"Shachi, assist (Y/N)-ya in gathering food and ingredients. And please, try not to buy flour or bread," he asked. 
Shachi, who was standing next to you, elbowed you mischievously. You winced in fake pain and attempted to snatch his orca-shaped hat from his head, but he stuck out his hand to shove your face away. 
Law witnessed the quarrel and shook his head. He sighed and continued to speak to the crew. "Hakugan and Penguin, I need you two to take the rest of the crew minus Jean Bart into the nearby city and search for other supplies. No pillaging and attacking civilians unless there are Marines. Jean Bart, you're coming with me, we have some other business to attend to."
"What other business do you have?" Hakugan pipped up.
"I will be searching if there's a log pose I can take or a Poneglyph I can find." the captain answered.
You were puzzled. This was just some random small island, so there was no way the captain could find a Poneglyph nearby and he should know that. But you brushed it aside because he probably knew something that you didn't know. 
Law turned away and waved his hand. "You are all dismissed," he announced. 
"Yes, captain!" you and the rest of the crew said. The whole crew dispersed, continuing their activities. You started walking inside the Polar Tang with Ikkaku.
"Now Ikkaku, did you make sure the captain doesn't know about this plan?" you whispered to her.
Your crewmate and close friend gave you a thumbs up. "No one has said a single word about it to the captain!" she confirmed.
Bepo caught up to your pace and lowered his head to talk to you. "(Y/n)-san, the rest of the crew is gathered in the dining hall," he said.
You turned to your right and gave the polar bear a thumbs up. The three of you made your way into the dining hall where the rest of the crew was standing. They were all excitedly talking about what they were planning to do once they set foot on the island. You walked to the centre and the chatter started to die down as you started to speak.
"Everyone! As you know, tomorrow is the captain's birthday," you announced.
The crew started to cheer loudly, but you quickly hushed them. "Quiet you guys! This is going to be a surprise party! Now, we're going to check out the local pub and see if we can hold a celebration there. What I need everyone to do is help me the captain. Now I know he said he was going somewhere else but for some reason, I have a gut feeling that he's not telling the truth." you preached.
The crew grunted and nodded in response. You continued. "Now the main objective is to keep the captain away from us as we run our errands! I'll give everyone a heads-up of which tavern we're going to be meeting at. Also, don't forget to buy a gift for our dear captain! We want to make sure he has an awesome day for his birthday." You said.
Hakugan raised his hand. "But (Y/n), why are we celebrating tonight instead of tomorrow on his actual birthday?" he inquired.
"Think about it, you know the captain hates celebrations like this right? Usually, if we hold his birthday in the Polar Tang, he will go to his room and not come out. However, if we hold his birthday party outside the Polar Tang, he has no choice but to attend the party!" you explained.
Ikkaku piqued up as well. "But he can also just 'ROOM' himself back to the ship, no?" she argued.
The crew started muttering amongst themselves. "That's true," you thought. "How are we going to make the captain stay if he's just going to teleport back?"
Bepo slowly raised his paw and spoke up. "What if we used sea prism cuffs on the captain?" he asked.
The room suddenly fell silent. Shuffles can be heard as the entire crew turns around to face Bepo. The poor mink would've turned red from embarrassment if he had any skin. He muttered out a soft sorry and lowered his head.
However, you thought it wasn't a bad idea, and Ikkaku seemed to agree. "Wait! Bepo is right," she called out, breaking the silence. "Let's find one and cuff our captain so he doesn't escape."
The crew broke out into conversation again and seemed like the people were divided regarding the proposed solution. 
"That seems like a reasonable idea."
"Cuffing our own captain?! That sounds crazy!"
"How else are we going to prevent him from using his powers?"
"He's going to throw us out of the crew!"
You stepped up on a nearby table. "Everyone quiet!" you shouted. The room fell silent once again, and everyone turned to face you in the centre of the dining room. "I know that it may seem like a ridiculous idea to cuff our beloved captain on his birthday. But I believe this to be for his own good! Let's celebrate our captain tonight!" you said with enthusiasm. 
Penguin suddenly stepped up on a chair, "Yeah, let's party tonight for the captain!" he cheered.
"For the captain!" everyone cheered.
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It was now 3 pm and it was sweltering hot on the island. You and the crew arrived two hours prior and proceeded to carry on with the errands that Law ordered. Shachi, who was assisting you, left to find Penguin. You just finished buying some mochi powder for the captain's cake. He may hate cakes, but you weren't going to pass up on an opportunity to bake him a cake for his special day so you opted for a mochi substitute, hoping he would like it. With a sack full of food ingredients over your shoulder, you proceeded to make your way back to the Polar Tang. However, a small shop to your right caught your eye. The sign on top of its door read "Books and Toys".
You hummed in curiosity. "They might have some copies of Sora here. I know the captain is looking for the first edition copy of volume one. If it's here it would be the perfect birthday gift!" you thought. You and Law were reading Sora, Warrior of the Sea together (as punishment). But you found yourself liking the time you spend with Law, and you swear he used it as an excuse to hang out with you (he would rather die than admit that). 
The bell on top of the door rang as you pushed it open. A teenage boy with tanned skin and blond hair greeted you on the counter. "Hello! How can I help you?" he asked. 
You quickly walked up to the counter. "I'm looking for a limited edition of Sora, Warrior of the Sea volume one. Do you have one in stock?" you inquired. 
The boy quickly looked around, making sure no one else was in the store. Then he leaned in to whisper; "I got one in stock. You really want it?"
Your eyes started to gleam in excitement and you nodded at the boy. "Yes, please! How much are you selling it for?"
He leaned back and crossed his arms with a smirk. He eyed you up and down. "For a pirate like you? Two thousand berries," he said.
"Shit," you thought "I forgot to take off this stupid boiler suit before I stepped foot out here."
"Well, since now you know I'm a pirate I can easily rob your store hm? Unless you want to lower that price for me, yeah?' you teased. Your left hand lightly hovered over your pistol, signalling to the boy that you were not bluffing. But you were, the captain would be very mad if he found out you robbed a toy and book store out of all places. 
The teenager started back up. "H-hey now, I was just kidding! I'll sell it to you for 500 berries! How does that sound? Just please don't kill me!" he stuttered in fear.
You put your hands on your hips and pretended to think. "Hmmm, alright kid. It's a deal! And make sure it has one of those plastic sleeves, I want it in mint condition!" you said.
The poor boy whimpered as he bowed and rushed to the back to fulfill your request. In two minutes he came back out with the book, wrapped in a box.
"H-here you go, ma'am! It-it was nice doing business with you!" he fearfully said while handing the box to you.
You cheekily grinned at the boy and handed him 500 berries in a bag. "Thank you! Have a good day!" You proceeded to walk out of the store with the sack of food and the box in your hand.
Satisfied, you broke out in a grin and made your way back to the Polar Tang. As you were walking, Bepo suddenly rushed up in front of you.
"(Y/n)-san! (Y/n)-san over here!" He called out to you. The bear halted to a stop to catch his breath.
"What's the hurry Bepo?" you asked as the mink in front of you was catching his breath.
"Captain is back!" he exclaimed. "He's coming into the town and we need to distract him!"
Sweat started to form on your forehead. "Okay, this is what we do! I have to head to the Tang to make the captain's birthday cake! Find Penguin and Shachi and lure him into this store called 'Books and Toys.' Try to keep him there for at least an hour."
Bepo rapidly whipped his big head around to make sure that no one was listening. Then he lowered his head to your level. "But (Y/n)-san, he's looking for you! I overheard him say to Jean Bart that he was going to discuss something with you urgently!" he whispered. 
You groaned in frustration. "That can wait! Distract him as long as you can! We cannot let this surprise be ruined!" you hissed.
The bear looked up and saw that Jean Bart was entering the town. That meant that Law was there too. "(Y/n)-san! You need to leave now! Captain is already here!" he exclaimed.
You quickly gathered the stuff that you were holding and wasted no time. You ran into the alleyway on your right and swerved around as fast as you could to head back to the submarine. 
A few minutes later, Jean Bart and Law saw Bepo in the nearby distance and walked up to him. 
"Bepo-ya, where is (Y/n)-ya? I need to talk to her," he questioned the mink.
The bear started to fidget. "Captain! Good to see that you're back! I haven't seen her in a while." he said nervously.
The doctor squinted in suspicion. "Alright, I will head back to the Polar Tang then." he declared.
"NO! I mean no captain! The Tang is off-limits for now! The- uh- shipwrights are fixing something in there- yeah! They're fixing the boiler room because Shachi and Penguin couldn't fix it entirely!" Bepo lied. He attempted to put his paw out as a way to prevent Law from passing by him.
"Bepo-ya, you should not block your captain." the tattooed doctor said darkly.
The poor bear started to shake in nervousness. "I'm sorry I can't-"
"CAPTAIN!" Penguin suddenly called out behind Jean Bart and Law. "Captain wait for us!"
"Yeah, captain! We have something to show you" Shachi hollered. 
The two crew-mates ran in between Law and Bepo. The mink's face relaxed in relief. The captain looked at the two men and started pestering them with the same questions. "Do you know where (Y/n)-ya is?" he asked. 
The orange-haired man shrugged. "I have no clue, I haven't seen her all day. But we found a comic book store!" Shachi proclaimed excitedly.
"Yeah!" Penguin agreed. "Let's head there right now!"
Law raised his eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, it doesn't seem a bad idea to visit there after I talk with (Y/n)-ya," he said.
Penguin shook his head. "You better visit now captain. The stores close by 6 pm and after that, only bars and pubs are open," he suggested. 
"I agree with Shachi and Penguin captain. You work so hard for the crew that it won't hurt to visit a comic book store here." Jean Bart added on. 
Law sighed. He had a feeling that you were avoiding him, and it seemed like the crew was helping you avoid him. You were probably up to no good again and he was honestly tired of it.
"Alright fine, let's visit this comic store." he finally agreed. 
Jean Bart, Penguin and Shachi started grinning and quickly ushered their captain to the comic book store. While Law had a neutral face, he couldn't help but wonder what you were up to.
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It was now 6 pm and you finished the mochi cake. You carefully placed the cake inside of the box and closed it. Sighing deeply, you wiped your sweat off your brow with your forearm. Shachi told you that the crew found a local bar where they could celebrate. You knew that by now most of the crew was there finishing preparations. 
Gathering the cake and gift for Law, you set out to head back to the town. You opened up the Polar Tang’s exit only to find your captain standing right in front of you. You yelped in surprise and quickly hid the two items behind your back. 
“Captain! What a surprise! What are you doing here!” you said, trying not to sound suspicious. 
Law warily looked down at you. “What am I doing here? This is my submarine if I remember correctly,”  he said. 
You let out a nervous laugh. “Of course of course! But what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Shachi and Penguin?” you nervously asked. 
The doctor raised his eyebrow. “I have been looking for you since this afternoon. Also, how did you know I was with those two?” he inquired. He stepped towards you and you took a step back. 
You started to sweat bullets out of nervousness. Looking to the side and pouting your lips, you let out a loose-lipped lie, “Oh you know, you always hang out with them so I guessed that you were with them.”
“Is that so? Well (Y/n)-ya, it’s really obvious that you’re lying, you have a terrible poker face,” he said smirking. 
“Shit, he got me,” you thought. 
“Why have you been avoiding me all day, (Y/n)-ya? What are you hiding this time,” he asked. He lowered his face near yours and looked into your eyes. You started turning red from the contact and started fidgeting with the items in your hand. 
“I wasn’t avoiding you… it was just we were both busy that’s all!” you nervously explained. You refused to meet with Law's eyes in an attempt to hide the secret if there was any left. 
The tattooed doctor peaked over your left shoulder. “What are you holding there on your back?” he curiously inquired. 
You attempted to step away from your captain but he halted you by grabbing your right arm. Trying to break free from his grasp, Law only tightened his grip on you. He attempted to get a full view of what you were holding behind your back, but you stepped to your right to prevent him from doing so. 
“Captain, I’m afraid that I cannot let you see what I’m holding,” you affirmed. 
“Nonsense, as your captain I command you to show me.” Law shot back at you. 
“That’s an abuse of power.” you retorted. 
“We’re pirates (Y/n)-ya. Normal laws don’t apply in pirate life. You’re lucky you have me as your captain.” he argued. 
The struggle to be free from his grasp continued. Then you suddenly remembered that you managed to get ahold of some sea prism cuffs thanks to Ikkaku. They were just sitting in your left back pocket. 
You patted your left back pocket and attempted to fish out the cuffs. You successfully pulled it out with your right hand, all while you were holding the gift in the same hand. 
The doctor started to get agitated. With his right hand occupied with holding your forearm, he attempted to use his left hand to snag whatever you were holding with your right hand. However, instead of grabbing the item, his hand was automatically shackled and he felt his energy drain rapidly. 
“What- What did you just put on my wrist!?” he exclaimed in surprise.
You grinned as you pulled up his hand that was now bound to the cuff you were holding onto. Law’s face colour drained as he saw that he was cuffed with sea prism stone. 
“(Y/n)-ya! What’s the meaning of this?!” he angrily yelled at you. 
You giggled. “Sorry captain, you are my hostage tonight,” you teased. 
The two of you suddenly went silent, processing what you just said. The captain turned completely red for the first time, realizing what it meant. You also turned red once you realized the suggestive nature of what you just said. 
“N-not like that! I mean like not that I wouldn’t mind that but this is for a surprise! From the crew! Yes, the crew and I have a surprise for you!” you tried to explain. 
The captain’s eyes narrowed at you. “Not that you wouldn’t mind?” he repeated. 
Your eyes widened and your face turned even more red. Then you proceeded to stomp your feet in frustration. 
“Argh! Never-mind! You are coming with me right now and you have no choice because your powers are neutralized.” you spat. 
“Now wait a minute, where are you taking me?” Law questioned as you pulled him out of the Polar Tang and off the submarine. You ignored his question and continued to direct him into the town. 
Five minutes later, the two of you arrived at the bar. Glancing back at the captain, you saw that he warily looked at the sign above the door. 
“You dragged me into a bar (Y/n)-ya? You could’ve done this without the sea prism cuffs.” he sighed. 
“No, I don’t think so. You would try to escape once you find out why,” you muttered. 
You pushed the door open and went inside with Law. The entire room suddenly burst out in a cheer. Law’s gaze softened to find out that the crew and you threw a surprise for him. 
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAPTAIN LAW!” The crew cheered. 
You excitedly let go of the cuff and placed the items on the nearby table. You opened up the box and took out the black and white mochi cake you created. It was shaped like Law’s fluffy cap, and the words on the bottom read the number ‘26’ with a candle on top of each number. Holding the cake, you walked up to the captain and presented it to him. He glanced down at you and although his face was still neutral, his eyes were expressing gratitude and another emotion that you couldn’t pinpoint. 
“Happy 26th birthday Captain Law. Thank you for being our captain, and for accepting me into the crew” you said, beaming up a smile. 
Penguin and Shachi suddenly popped up beside their captain and wrapped their arm around his shoulders. “Let’s celebrate!” Penguin shouted with glee.
“Let’s drink and make a toast to our awesome captain!” Shachi agreed. 
The whole room burst out in laughter and cheers and Law, seeing how much effort he was put into celebrating him, couldn’t help but smile. 
—————————————————————------------------------------------------------------------
The party went on late in the evening. Everyone was starting to pass out either because they drank too much or from partying too much. Penguin and Hakugan were trying to out-drink each other, while Bepo tended to a sleeping and drunk Ikkaku. On the other side of the room, Shachi was trying to hit up the hostess of the bar, while Jean Bart was talking with the bar owner. 
The captain of the Heart Pirates looked around and decided he was going to head outside for fresh air. He discreetly walked out of the bar and leaned up against the wall of the establishment. Taking a deep breath, he looked up to the clear skies of the night and pondered on the day’s events. He heard the entrance to the bar open and turned to see you walking out with a package in your hand. 
“Hey captain, fancy seeing you out here.” you greeted him. 
Law nodded at you. Over the past two weeks, he has gotten closer to you, from reading Sora with him to your ridiculous behaviour on his submarine. He couldn’t help but grow fond of you. Of course, there was no way he would admit it since having biases amongst his crew would create rifts but alas he couldn’t help but notice how you reminded him so much of his father figure in the past. 
You placed yourself in front of your captain and sighed. “I just wanted to apologize to you captain. I didn’t mean to hide from you the whole day and to take you hostage.” you apologized, laughing at the same time. 
The man in front of you chuckled. “I can only accept this behaviour from you (Y/n)-ya. At this point, I think I’ve grown immune from it.”
The two of you broke out into a small laugh. It was the only thing that could be heard in the small town, along with the crickets that were chirping into the night. 
You fiddled with the package’s string nervously, then presented it to Law. “I wanted to give you this for your birthday captain. I wanted to give it to you tomorrow on your actual birthday, but I think now’s the best time to give it to you.” you shyly said. 
The tattooed doctor’s eyes slightly widened in surprise. “You already made a cake for me, which was by the way, really delicious. You have another gift for me?” he asked. 
You pouted and shoved the package into his tattooed hands. “Just accept it damn it. I went through some trouble trying to get this for you,” you muttered. 
Law chuckled and started to unwrap the gift. He found himself holding onto a limited edition first copy of Sora, Warrior of the Sea volume 1. He caressed the front cover and looked at you with surprise in his eyes. 
“Y-you…?” he couldn’t find the words to speak. 
“Yeah, I managed to find one this afternoon while I was running errands. I know you have been looking for this for a while, I hope you like it.” you quietly said. You were scratching your cheek in slight embarrassment. 
However when you finally met his eyes, your cheeks flushed into a light pink colour. He was genuinely smiling at you, and his eyes gleamed with appreciation. The bright moon shone on both of you as you and Law shared the touching moment. 
“Thank you (Y/n)-ya, this was very thoughtful of you,” he said with sincerity. “I also have something for you too.”
You tilted your head in confusion. “But it’s not my birthday,” you argued. 
The captain pushed himself off the wall and dug into his back right pocket, fishing out a small white item. You looked closer and saw it was a kitchen timer shaped like a white polar bear. 
You gasped and Law glanced up and held out the gift. “I found this a while ago while walking around the town. I lied to all of you when I said that I was looking for Poneglyphs because my true intention was to find you a gift,” he admitted. 
Taking your left hand with his tattooed ones,   he looked down and gently placed the kitchen timer on your hand. “I saw this… and it reminded me of you. I just wanted to thank you for being the cook on my ship and for tolerating my ridiculous food requests. And you even made a mochi cake for my birthday, knowing that I hated regular cake. Just know that the crew-“ he suddenly paused and looked up at your eyes. “I really appreciate you (Y/n)-ya.”
His cheeks tinged a light very faint pink once he finished with his confession. Your mouth gaped open as you stared at the gift in your hand. The pulse in your heart started to quickly pace as your eyes started to well up with tears. Overjoyed by your captain’s words, you suddenly threw yourself at him, wrapping him in a hug against his chest. 
Law was stunned. He didn’t expect you to react the way you did. He looked down at you and felt his ears starting to heat up. Hesitantly, he patted your back with his left hand. 
“Captain, this was the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me! Thank you so much!” you cried out. 
The doctor let out a nervous chuckle. “Not at all, I was just showing appreciation for a valued crew member such as yourself,” he said, trying to convince himself. What he really felt was the appreciation of you as a person. 
With your arms wrapped around the man, you glanced up gave him a big grin and pierced his heart with your next sentence:
“I really appreciate you, for everything that you are. Happy Birthday, Captain Law.” 
Trafalgar Law, one of the notorious Seven Warlords of the Sea, was completely taken aback. Both of his ears were suddenly cherry red and he struggled to speak. His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. 
Suddenly, he remembered his father figure‘s last words to him. “I love you Law!” 
The once isolated and lonely heart that beat in Law’s chest suddenly swelled. Dropping the last of his stoic facade, he bore his eyes into yours with softness and affection. He put his hand on top of your head and gently patted it. 
Corazón was the first to notice the pain in his heart, but you were the one who was slowly opening it up again. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was enough for him to know that he could start to trust you with his once-damaged heart. 
—————————————————————-----------------------
Bonus Scene:
“Shhh! They’re talking right now!” Hakugan hissed as he peeked through the window. You and Law were talking outside, and the entire crew was crammed into the tiny window of the bar. 
Ikkaku pushed Hakugan’s head down in an attempt to get a better view. She gasped when she saw that you suddenly hugged the captain. “Oh my god!” she squealed. 
Seeing that you were hugging the captain, the rest of the crew broke out into wolf whistles and small cheers. Penguin groaned as Shachi said something along the lines of “cough up that 100 berries.” 
It was a joyous night for the Heart Pirates. Pirates filled the bar with rowdy laughter. The night sky was clear and two growing hearts were sitting side by side with one another. It was one more celebration before they headed into the New World to further pursue their dreams and adventures.
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AITA for making a YouTuber feel uncomfortable? 
Here me out please, before you all make assumptions. 
A couple months ago, I(19F) began following a YouTuber that I quickly began to love. I won’t be saying the YouTuber’s name for the sake of protecting their privacy, obviously. I started to watch their videos(which were mainly about a story that she came up with, featuring her ocs) and enjoyed them all, enjoyed the ocs, too. This YouTuber is a relatively unpopular one, but not so unpopular that they’re obscure or completely unheard of, they’re just not one of the big names in the YouTuber community. I made a few amazing friends due to us being in the same fandom and both enjoying this YouTuber’s content. One day, I decided to write a fanfic for this person’s story featuring her ocs. I uploaded the fic to AO3 and made sure to credit the YouTuber with creating these amazing ocs. I then showed it to my few friends, who all loved the fanfic. However, one day I made the mistake of showing the fic to a mutual friend(now an ex-friend but that’s a topic for another discussion) that me and the YT both share, and she sent the fanfic to the YT without my permission. Now before y’all get up in arms, I didn’t mind at all that she had sent it to the YT, in fact, I actually wanted the YT to see. However I really wish that she had asked me first, because I would have been more than happy to show it to them! Unfortunately, a few days after I sent it to her, my other friend(let’s call her M) showed me an announcement the YT made on her Discord, in which she complained about people writing fanfictions of her ocs and “using” them in her stories without her permission. She also stated that she felt like she was losing control of her story when other people wrote fanfics of it, and that whoever wrote the fanfiction “didn’t understand boundaries”(even though she didn’t have this boundary before and also wrote in the announcement that she used to be okay with fanfics of her work, but now no longer is). I deleted the fanfic the moment I saw the post from my friend, but I was a bit disappointed since I never meant to make her feel uncomfortable and only wanted to show my love and appreciation for her story, and possibly get more people to check out her story as well. Still, I deleted the fanfic from AO3. 
Now, here’s where things get interesting. A while later, I joined the YouTuber’s Discord server, where I met many people that I got along quite well with and quickly befriended. I often engaged in conversations with them about the story, and often drew fanart of my favorite character and posted it to the art channel in the server(she’s okay with fanart of her ocs, just not fanfics). Now is probably a good time to mention that while I was in the Discord server(and even before that) I often talked about the story with my friend on Tumblr(not M, these are two separate friends) who did not have Discord but loved the story just as much as I did. We often talked about the story and how much we enjoyed it, and often came up with jokes and headcanons, basic stuff like that, that any fan would do. Anyway, back to the Discord, one of the rules of the server was not to be disrespectful or rude or malicious towards other people, and another was that if you received two warnings about your behavior in the server then you would be quickly banned from the server and no longer allowed to come back. I understood this and tried to conduct myself to the best of my ability. However, one day, I found myself mysteriously unable to access the server, and when I tried to rejoin, I was again unable to. I found out that the reason I couldn’t access the server was because I had been banned due to “disrespectful behavior”, “engaging in arguments”, and making the YouTuber(who ran the server) uncomfortable. I was confused, because I genuinely don’t remember ever engaging in rude behavior with anyone. The few instances(according to them) in which I had been allegedly rude or disrespectful to people were both genuine misunderstandings, and both times I had apologized for them and did not repeat the behavior. I also did not receive any form of warning before being banned, despite one of the rules being that you will receive two warnings before being banned from the server. Still, I apologized for my alleged hostility and asked if I could come back, however the YouTuber said no, and went on to add that not only was I rude to people in the server(which, again, were both genuine misunderstandings), but that she had seen my Tumblr conversations with my friends in which I talked about her story, and said that she was “wildly uncomfortable” with how “obsessive” I was with it as well as my favorite character in the story. This bewildered me to no end because the YouTuber did not have Tumblr and had never once ever mentioned being on or having access to Tumblr, so I did not expect her to see my posts(and even if she did, I did not expect to get banned for them as they do not violate the rules of the server). It made me wonder why she didn’t just talk to me and explain to me that she was uncomfortable with me posting about her work instead of just banning me altogether and not giving me a chance to defend myself. I ended up sadly and reluctantly deleting all of my posts relating to her story, and requesting my friend to do the same. I told M about this scenario, and she was enraged on my behalf, saying that the YouTuber probably was actually upset about my having written a fanfic for her ocs, and said that she didn’t understand me being called obsessive because I acted like a normal fan would(which I agree with). Some of my other friends have sided with me as well and told me that the YouTuber was acting petty, however some of my friends have taken a middle ground. None of them entirely condemned me, but that may just be because they are biased and don’t want to hurt my feelings. The mutual friend/now ex-friend(of course) merely told me to “self-reflect” and move on from the story. Regardless, the YouTuber now has me blocked, not just on Discord, but on Instagram as well, where I also reside. 
Reasons why I think I might be the asshole: I will admit that I have a tendency to really hyperfixate on things and get especially attached to fictional characters that I adore and resonate with, so I can see why that would make them uncomfortable. That being said… 
Reasons why I think I might not be the asshole: I genuinely wasn’t trying to make this wonderful YouTuber feel uncomfortable or be “obsessive” with the story. I merely wanted to show my appreciation for it in a way that I thought was normal for online fans, which included writing a fanfic, drawing fanart, and geeking out about the story with my friends(admittedly publicly). I had no idea that these actions would turn the YouTuber off, and merely wanted to show how much I enjoyed the story. I also was never rude to anyone in the server and apologized whenever a misunderstanding rose up. I never tried to be aggressive with anyone or cursed anybody out or tried to have arguments with people, so I have no idea where that came from. 
So, what say ye, oh wise people of Tumblr? Am I the asshole or not?
What are these acronyms?
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Forbidden Fruit
Pairings: Copia X AFAB!Reader Type: Smut Summary: Copia loves bending it over onstage, and you just need to show that ass some appreciation. Warnings: Eating out and pegging Word Count: 2834 Notes: Read here on ao3. This is an AFAB!Reader story, but I don’t think it has specific pronouns. If you want to read this with different pronouns or as an AMAB!Reader story, literally hit me up, and I will send you that version, or repost it. Please don’t be shy in that regard :) Also, I’m going to be real, I wrote this so long ago, I just never ended up posting it (it was literally my first time writing smut), so I don’t really remember a lot of what happens here.
~
There were nights where it was difficult to be away from Copia. Especially with him constantly gone on tour, leaving you with nothing to do. Sure you could try to do some chores with the siblings, or garden with Primo, or just do literally anything, but that never seemed enticing enough.
Instead, you just decided scrolling through TikTok would be a better idea because on occasion, Copia’s gorgeous face would pop up and make the day better. Not that you did that all day every day, but a good portion of your day was spent scrolling on that god awful app.
When Copia finally got his break, you were beyond excited for him to spend his time with you while he prepared for the US leg of the tour.
Copia was beyond relieved when he got out of the car and saw you running towards him, jumping in his arms for a hug and a kiss.
“Did you miss me, dolce?” He asked, gently laughing and holding you tightly.
“Of course I didn’t. I just wanted to run and hug you and never let you go because I hate you,” you joked, knowing he would get a laugh out of the cheesy statement. He let you go, placing a hand on your cheek and smiled. You held his hand to your face and melted into his touch.
“Well I missed you, amore mio. Come, let’s sneak away and leave the ghouls to do the unpacking.”
“How could I say no?” You giggled, pulling him into the Ministry without another word.
He followed along, pleased with how happy you were to see him. When you finally got to the bedroom, he quickly undressed, getting into more comfortable clothing, and laid down, pulling you close to him. “How are you more gorgeous each time I return?” He asked, pulling you into a kiss, then trailing down to nip at your neck and collar. “I could just eat you up,” he chuckled.
“Copia,” you said, sucking in a breath.
He looked up. “Hm?”
“Fuck, I missed you,” you responded, pulling him into a passionate kiss.
“Care to show me just how much my dolcezza missed me?” He chuckled, pulling away.
The moment he pulled away, you flipped him over, sitting on his lap. “You know, you had no reason putting on these pajamas when you knew I would be pulling them off anyways,” you said, pulling off his shirt.
“Maybe you are right,” he said, grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him. “Maybe I just wanted to have you undress me,” he smirked, kissing you again. Rolling your eyes, you kissed him back, moving only to tug his pants off so that he was clad in only his boxers. “I feel that you are a little overdressed for this occasion, tesoro.”
“Well maybe I need someone to help me with th-” He wasted no time in flipping you over, pulling off your shirt and shorts, leaving you exposed except for your underwear. “Well someone’s eager.”
“I have been without you for far too long. I’m not delaying this any longer,” he said, ripping your panties off next.
“Those were expensive!” You gasped, playfully shoving him.
“I will buy you new ones,” he dismissed, flipping you over, trailing kisses down your body until he reached your dripping cunt. “So wet,” he mused, sliding a finger through your slick. “All for me?”
“Oh, fuck, yes. All for you,” you moaned, back arching at the contact. He brought his finger to his lips, moaning when the taste of you hit his tongue.
“I’ve been craving a taste of my favorite dish. I’ve waited far too long,” he said, burying his face in your cunt.
His tongue worked magic, swirling around your clit as he pressed one finger into your entrance. You grabbed a handful of his hair, eliciting a groan from him that vibrated through your entire body. “Oh sweet Lucifer,” you moaned, grinding against his face. He pushed another finger in, angling directly for that sweet spot he knew would have you melting into the bed.
He kept his eyes on you as you squeezed yours shut. He pumped his fingers in and out while he continued to eat you out like a man starved. The noises the two of you were making were downright filthy. He was drawing moans out of you, his fingers making squelching sounds as he fucked you with them.
“Shit shit shit, yeah right there,” you chanted as you felt a familiar coil building in your stomach.
“Are you going to cum?” He asked, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you. “Going to cum all over my face and my fingers?”
“Fuck!” You shouted as he dived back into your pussy, clenching around his fingers. “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, unholy fuck!”
“That's it. Cum for me,” he said, sucking your clit with more fervor and angling his fingers just right. It was enough to send you over the edge. He worked you through your orgasm, and only pulled away once you started flinching from overstimulation. “That’s it. Good girl,” he praised, coming to lay next to you as you came down from your orgasm. He put a gentle hand on your chin and pulled your face to look at him, then pulled you into a sweet kiss.
You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, and he pulled back with a chuckle. “Ready for round two?” He smirked.
With a nod, you knew it was bound to be a long night.
Quiet time was valued by you and Copia both. A way to destress with each other and just chill out without having to talk or do anything. He had been reading a book for the past thirty minutes while you scrolled through your most recent addiction that is the app TikTok – with headphones on of course. There was no reason to disturb the peace.
While scrolling, you found countless baking videos, some BookTok videos, cosplay, but most importantly…tour videos.
A lot of them were with the ghouls being chaotic demons onstage. They were entertaining, but what piqued your interest most was the Copia clip that popped up.
Adjusting your posture, you watched what the creator called a ‘crack video’ of the random things that happened during Mummy Dust.
Some of it was the ghouls, Dewdrop slamming his fist into his guitar, reaching for a person in the crowd, and then jerking off in time to ‘cum’ with the confetti. Or Phantom holding his guitar at weird angles, posing with an oddly threatening aura, or trying out some new hip thrusts. Even Rain and Cirrus had their moments in the video.
But what interested you the most was when Copia popped up. He was just as chaotic as the ghouls. Growling, thrusting, slapping imaginary asses, and fingering the air. But it couldn’t get any better when you saw the perfect angle of someone filming as he bent over, wiggling his ass back and forth as if taunting someone to come and fuck him.
Someone coming up, bending him over the bed, moving their hand from his groping his ass to roaming up his spine, then pressing his head in the bed as they fucked him…Sathanas…what an image…
Clenching your thighs together, you watched as he began to bend forward, sticking his perfect ass out for everyone to ogle. And fuck did he look good. Every curve of him made your mouth water. It was too much just to look at, but you couldn’t look away as he wiggled his ass. He looked absolutely delectable.
 A small moan slipped out of your mouth at the thought of pounding him into neck week, and Copia gave you a look.
“Everything alright, amore mio?” He asked, placing a bookmark in his book and setting it aside as he looked at your phone and removed your headphones.
“How have I never seen this before?” You mused, looking at him with a mischievous grin.
“Ah, so I have caught your attention?”
You rolled your eyes. “When do you not?” You paused and looked at him, admiring his unpainted face and mismatched eyes.
“What are you thinking?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“I want to fuck you,” you stated bluntly.
“Well, I am happy to let you climb on to-”
“No. I want to fuck you.”
He gave you a confused look, and you slid off the bed, going to look for the box you had hidden in your dresser. You set it on the bed, then crawled on top of him. He placed his hands on your hips as you began rocking against him, his cock quickly hardening at your movements. “Amore…”
Leaning in to kiss him, you let a small moan slip through your lips. “I want to fucking devour you. Every inch of you is absolutely perfect. Please, Copia, let me…”
“I need a little more context, yes?” He chuckled, nipping at your neck. “What’s in that box, il mio cuore?”
You brought one hand back, blindly searching as you kept your eyes on him and leaning in for another kiss. When you opened it, his eyes went wide.
A nicely sized black dildo, harness, and a bottle of lube were all that was in the box. ‘Oh,” is all he said.
“You can say no.” He just stared at you and the contents of the box dumbly. “Copia?”
“Cazzo,” he cursed. “Si, yes, please,” he said, quickly scrambling to remove his clothes.
A chuckle escaped your lips as you grabbed both of his hands, then leaned in to nip at his neck. “Let me worship you,” you whispered.
He visibly shuddered. “Please,” he begged. You began unbuttoning his pajama shirt, trailing sloppy kisses from his neck to his stomach, leaving practically no bit of skin dry. You made sure to pay close attention to his nipples, biting at one and pinching the other, then switching every few moments. Finally, you made your way to the waistband of his pants. Sitting up, you gently pull the fabric off of him. Of course, no underwear. What was the need when he was next to you? Made for easy access.
You stripped him fully, then began gripping his thighs, appreciating how meaty they were. He let out a moan when you dug your nails in slightly, causing his back to arch.
“Please, amore. I need you,” he moaned, his hands desperately reaching out for you.
“Not yet, darling. I said I wanted to worship you, and I meant it.” Sliding down his body some more, you made your way to his calves. They were so defined that you couldn’t help but press kisses to the soft skin. You trailed kisses back up to his thighs, then began biting, enjoying the way that he bruised easily, allowing you to mark him however you pleased.
He was moaning and desperate, and you knew this was just getting to the point of annoying teasing, which isn’t the intended goal. Bringing one hand to cup his balls, you licked a long stripe up his cock, taking the head in your mouth and swirling your tongue in ways that made him see stars.
“Vita mia-” he moaned, cut off when you took him fully into your mouth. He laced a hand through your hair to steady himself. “Please, I want to en-enjoy you. I’m going to cum if you -if you keep doing that.” 
Although he asked for it, he whined and bucked his hips when you pulled off. “Bend over the bed,” you commanded, and he couldn’t help but obey. He looked like a desperate whore with how fast he slid off the bed and stuck his ass out, but this wasn’t the time for degradation. This was time for worship. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” you whispered, bringing hands up to knead into his ass. “So perfect~”
“All for you,” he breathed out, trying to push his ass further into your hands.
“All for me, but you’re the one flaunting it onstage. Are you really that needy for attention?” He whined in response. “I’ll give you attention, darling…don’t worry,” you assured, grabbing the bottle of lube from the box. Slicking up your fingers, you smeared some around his hole, causing him to lurch forward at the sensation. “Color?” You asked as you began hooking the dildo into the harness and sliding it on.
“Green,” he huffed out, already overwhelmed by the simple touches he’s received.
With his confirmation, you pressed one finger into him, enjoying the way he clenched at the sudden intrusion. He let out a groan and tried pushing himself back. You placed a hand on his hips to still him, then began thrusting the single finger before adding a second, alternating between thrusting and scissoring to stretch him open. 
“Please, I’m ready. I need you,” he moaned, pushing back against your fingers. He let out a sad noise as you retracted them.
Smearing whatever lube was left on your fingers and a bit more poured from the bottle, you lined up with his hole, barely pressing the head of the dildo into him. He let out a whine, and tried pushing back.
You put a hand on his hip and leaned to whisper in his ear. “Settle,” you said as you began pushing in. He grabbed the bed sheets, twisting them in his hands as you moved. You got about an inch in, then pulled out slightly, and pushed forward more, until it got to the point where your thighs were touching the meat of his ass.
“Your fucking ass is…sathanas this is fucking amazing,” you said, letting the dildo sit in his ass as if he were nothing more than a cockwarmer.
He moaned in response, trying to move on the dildo on his own, prompting you to move. Starting slow, you thrusted forward, eliciting a delicious groan from him. “Amore mio, please…more…” he begged, letting his head fall to the bed, muffling his noises.
Gently, you turned his head to the side, examining his handsome face as you stared in his glassy eyes. “Don’t hide those pretty noises, darling,” you said, punctuating the end of the sentence with a gentle thrust.
He let out a surprised moan, and lost control of what spilled from his mouth.
“You’re so pretty from here. Sathanas, how have I never done this before?” You asked, picking up the pace, punching out moans and grunts. “Taking me so well. Like you were built to be fucked.”
He let out a spent “uh-huh,” in response, fisting the bedsheets and closing his eyes.
“Bet this is what you think about on that stage. Getting dicked down. Wanted to be bent over, and let everyone see just how good you are. So fucking good.”
“Please, tesoro, I need more,” he pleaded. And who were you to resist such a beautiful plea?
One hand trailed up his back, while the other reached around to stroke his cock, which was slick with pre. He was absolutely dripping. It was such a beautiful thing.
He let out a high pitch moan once you hit his prostate dead on. “Yeah? Like that?” He nodded. “Fuck, Copia, you’re so beautiful like this. Laid out and bare, letting me treat you how you deserve. So good.”
There was an attempt to match the pace of stroking his dick in time with your thrusts, but it didn’t last long when you kept nailing directly into his prostate, and his hips began moving on their own.
“Amore, please, can I cum? I need to cum,” he asked, bouncing back on the silicone, not letting you keep your pace.
“Cum for me. Show me how good I’m making you feel.” You twisted your wrist, jacking him off at a simple pace, then swiping a thumb over the tip.
He shuddered and tensed, streams of white covering your knuckles. You fucked him through the orgasm, only getting slower when he began to twitch from the overstimulation.
Carefully, you pulled out, then removed the harness. He stayed in the position until you helped him move to lay on the bed.
He looked practically ruined, and oh so beautiful. “I’m going to grab a washcloth, love, I’ll be back,” you said, slipping off to the bathroom.
He looked half asleep when you came back, and you gently tapped his cheek. “Still with me?” He nodded. “Good.” You took the wash cloth and began wiping him down. You laid next to him, whispering praise while you stroked his peppered hair.
After a few minutes, he came back down to earth. “You didn’t cum,” he said, cuddling into you.
“I wasn’t doing that for me,” you responded, wrapping an arm around him.
“And if I asked to eat you out?”
“Then I would be a fool to say no,” you laughed. He grinned before disappearing between your thighs.
You would definitely be doing this again.
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randomshyperson · 2 years
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Spring Break - Cheerleader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader
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Summary: Every year during Spring Break, you travel to a camp filled with outdoor competitions. It comes with a bonus of facing your rival from back when the whole thing started, and there's nothing more attractive than Wanda Maximoff kicking your ass in every game. Some might say you let her win just to see her smile, but maybe that's loser talk.
Warnings: (+18), enemies to lovers, so much teasing and bickering, a lot of making out and kissing, bottom!Cheerleader Wanda being a tease, soft first-time smut, semi-public, gays who can't keep their hands off each other, fluff, mild angst when they’re being stubborn, friends being done, high school but summer camp vibes, happy ending i promise. Words: 11.176k
A/N-> I’m back with enemies to lovers (and some smut finally). This fic is quite old, but it was abandoned; after seeing Wednesday and Bianca dueling I regained inspiration for what I was doing in the 5k that was already done. You can thank Netflix for this one.  I wasn't sure whether to split it into two parts or not, but I think I have longer fics than this one so I decided to post them all together. If you notice there's a pause, because I wrote it as two different parts, you didn't.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
--//--
There was something about pissing you off that made Wanda twitch.
It started so long ago, when you first bumped into each other at Avengers Camp three years ago, and Wanda had the best and most stressful Spring Break since high school began; all because you were there and she was winning.
Now, senior year had arrived, and the annual tradition of joining the spring games for an entire week in the middle of nature at one of the most renowned vacation camps in the United States was going to happen again.
Wanda likes to believe that she was not expecting this. It would actually be absurd to admit that she waited, every year, for the familiar image of your old Danvers cap and your bored expression leaving the bus that brought your schoolmates, but if Wanda would be honest, now sitting in the driveway waiting for their driver to finish unloading the car while she lets her gaze run across the entrance courtyard of the Camp, pretending not to look for someone and yet feeling her whole body warm-up when she recognizes the female figure in the crowd of students from the rival school, Wanda has to admit a few things. First, you grew annoyingly attractive every year. The second, she couldn't wait to beat your ass at every game.
"Man, I can't believe we're competing with the Skrulls again, it's the third year in a row." Her twin's complaint made Wanda blink away, her face half-reddened with fear that she had been caught staring. But Pietro seemed busy enough with his own complaints. 
"Well, at least we're winning." Wanda retorted making him laugh. 
"Fair point." He said and looked at her. "Speaking of which, do you know what games you'll be competing in this year yet?"
"Um, I think I'll check with the girls first. I don't want to end up alone in swimming like last year." Wanda mutters and Pietro nods in understanding. 
Soon the monitors are addressing those who have already arrived, and Wanda loses sight of you - not that she was looking - and busies herself with going to the cabin that would be hers for the next week.
You, on the other hand, lose your bag in a pile.
"God, why does this always happen." You grumble in irritation as you manage to see the handle of your blue suitcase, below a few hundred others. 
"Every year, Y/N. And I keep saying, carry your bag on your lap, and you keep ignoring me." Your sister, Carol, comments beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You roll your eyes, gently pushing her away. Carol is happy, with her dark, safe suitcase under her arm. 
"Stop bugging me and help me." You grumble and she laughs before trying to find a better position for you two to pull your bag together.
With a little effort, you manage to pull your backpack out, and you stumble backward with a grunt - bumping into someone who keeps you from falling to the ground - as Carol pulls your bag out of the pile.
"Yay, teamwork!" She celebrates on the other side, but you are busy turning to thank her who held you up, only to face your best friend with a small smile.
"Bucky!" you greet him excitedly, turning your body to hug him tightly by the neck, and laughing when he spins you in the air. 
You met Bucky at camp, and despite going to a rival school, you had enough things in common for the friendship to grow strong even though he was studying and living almost on the other side of the country. Fortunately, Skype and Whatsapp existed, and even as spring ended, you were still friends. 
"Hello, my favorite Danvers. " He greets like that only to annoy your sister behind you, who rolls her eyes and chuckles, moving closer to hug him as well as soon as you let go. "How was your trip, girls?"
"Y/N slept the whole way." Carol replies.
"And Carol ate the whole way." You accuse taking your bag from her hand and ignoring the grimace to add, "Oh, no, wait, I made a mistake. She was actually daydreaming about Natasha Romanoff."
"Shut up!" Carol grunted quickly, trying to hit you, a soft pink appearing on her cheeks. You fled from her hands, laughing and running toward the check-in booth where the monitors were calling out names, and Bucky shook his head for interaction watching your sister run after you.
Avengers Camp was huge, and besides the cabins divided up among all the students who stayed there during the vacation seasons, there was a lake, volleyball and tennis courts, an auditorium, and even an arcade. 
You were lucky to end up in a cabin with your sister and the other girls in your class - the brilliant Gwen Stacy and Darcy Lewis - who didn't seem too interested in the sports competitions but would surely win any of the scientific tests.
After packing up, all the campers were called to the main cabin, where there were tables scattered throughout the area, where the teenagers were seated ready to enjoy the delicious lunch and listen to the welcome speech.
Nick Fury was the Camp Director and no one could ever tell the real story behind his eye patch, each year new campers came up with new legends that made you laugh - like the story that an alien cat had been responsible for cutting the limb off.
"[...] It gives me great pleasure to welcome the honorary Skrulls from California!" Announced Fury and all the students of your school made a chorus of claps and shouts of celebration, banging on their desks. Fury laughed from his seat in the center of the room, waiting for the commotion to pass before announcing the other school. "And equally welcome, the so-far undefeated champions of the Spring Competitions, the Avengers!"
The rival school made an even better commotion, almost starting a food war. But you were having fun, even though your school had never beaten the Avengers in their home, it was to be expected that they would want to keep their camp as an undefeated venue. Even though last winter during the interclass event, the soccer team lost badly to another school. There was a taunt among the students that if the Avengers played away from home, they would lose. But you and the rest of your school were more interested in proving that you could beat them anywhere, and this was your last chance to be part of it.
As Fury continued with the general announcements - about the rules, and the competitions, concepts that were already very familiar to you after three years - you felt Bucky pull your cap off your head, muttering something about manners that made you laugh.
You were adjusting the tousled strands of hair when Carol gave you a gentle nudge.
"Your majesty will speak now." She sneers and you aren't even confused, knowing full well what this is about before you even raise your eyes to the center of the room again, and feel your stomach do a full turn at seeing Wanda Maximoff step up to the podium with the confidence and posture worthy of a queen.
You met Wanda in first grade, and from the first conflicting interactions, you have an obligation to call her a princess. Because the perfect little girl's posture is too annoying for you not to do so. This, and the fact that her father is a famous politician, and the family is deep in the money, kind of lives up to the nickname. Also, it gives you real amusement to see the pink in her cheeks when you call her that.
And Wanda, of course, is the representative speaker at the games. So every year until she graduates, she announces the competitions and collects the names, as well as basically running the whole thing with the other monitors. It's like Queen Bee and her subjects, and neither you nor any of your friends stop making fun of it.
"I didn't think the Maximoffs were going to come this year." Bucky comments low beside you, as Wanda announces that year's games. And you frown in confusion.
"What, but Wanda has basically been representing this competition forever." You reason, but Bucky shrugs his shoulders.
"I know, but I heard they were going back to their country for college." Bucky retorts. "And you have to admit, while Avengers Camp is fun, it's not worth much here for us to get admission points."
Carol murmurs in agreement. "Man, now I'm pissed they didn’t leave. Imagine a year without having to put up with Little Miss Perfect, a stolen dream." She mocks and you force a laugh, a strange feeling in your stomach. You should be happy at the possibility of not having to put up with Wanda. But it occurs to you that the games wouldn't be as much fun without her.
Clearing your throat, you poke at your food with your fork. 
"I think I'll sign up just for racing this year." Bucky comments beside you. "We have Football season, and I don't want to end up accidentally hurting myself before the games."
"But you love wrestling." You say but he shrugs his shoulders, offering you a small smile.
It occurs to you as the announcements end, and students have to move to leave their names for the competitions, that the seniors are not very excited. Probably the stress of college admissions, you can relate to that yourself, still, it's a little sad to see how little participation from classmates your age.
"Danvers sisters, good to have you back for another year." Fury greets you excitedly as soon as you and Carol approach the registration stand - where there is a small crowd of students trying to choose which games they will compete in, and put their names on the prepared murals. 
"Hey, Nick!" Carol greets back, doing a handshake that she never taught you with the principal. You merely offer him a smile. "How's the family?"
You took the attention away from your sister as you approached the mural that read Wildness Competitions, adjusting your cap slightly as you did so. There were many options for activities at Avengers Camp, and you usually chose mostly the ones that the public school wouldn't give you access to for the rest of the school year, like Hispism or Fencing, the latter being a secret talent.
"Well, if it isn't the Skrulls’ Golden Armor Knight." A female voice mocked behind you, and you were smiling before you even turned around. 
"Maximoff, it's always a displeasure." You retorted sarcastically, your hands in your pockets. Wanda doesn't flinch at your rudeness, tossing her hair to the side as she approaches with some buttons which she as a representative, needs to put on the murals to signal about the teams.
"Having trouble picking your sport this year, Danvers? A suggestion, try to remember that you are going to lose no matter what."
"Really? 'Cause as far as I remember, that shiny trophy up there has my name on it." You retort nodding to where the fencing awards are set in the corner of the main hall. Wanda rolls her eyes. "But don't worry, princess, I'll go easy on you this year."
Wanda lets out a wry laugh, her eyes glittering in defiance.
"I guess it's more the other way around, huh?" She retorts. "Or in case you've forgotten, the highest number of wins is still mine."
Wanda had a point. You could win at Fencing all you wanted - and get the ridiculous nickname of Skrulls’ Golden Armor Knight from the girl just to annoy you - but Wanda still won everything. From archery to fighting to spelling. Never in a million years would you admit that maybe you were losing because you were busier trying not to be distracted by her annoyingly pretty face.
"Let's see how this year turns out." You tell her with clear defiance in your voice, and Wanda smiles, moving closer, and you swallow dryly, your body tensing up. But she is just reaching for something behind you - a jar with other buttons - and offers you an innocent smile.
"Game on, Danvers." She says, grabbing one of the items and placing it in your hands before turning around, hips swaying more than necessary as if she knew exactly where you were going to look, and you choke softly, your face heating up before you shake your head and focus on the badge in your hands. The symbol of your school pinned on it.
–//–
The first day of competitions was a complete success for the Avengers, which means it was complete hell for you.
Unlike basically all the rest of your colleagues who were taking it easy, you almost destroyed a snack machine that refused to deliver your energy drink after you finished in second place for the fourth consecutive activity. If anyone asked, you were annoyed because of the little victorious smile Wanda had on her face all morning, but no one asked, because Carol had to drag you away from the brunette to avoid you jumping on her neck and pulling that little smile off yourself.
"It's so strange to see you like this." Your sister comments as soon as you guys are so back at the cabin, and you flopped down on the bed, grunting irritably against the pillow.
Gwen - who participated in the short race and was still wearing the same uniform as you - handed Carol the small bottle of energy drink that the machine released after you and Wanda got into a heated argument. 
"Like what?" you asked confused with your voice muffled by the pillowcase. Your sister laughed.
"So angry." She clarified by sitting down in one of the armchairs to take off her shoes. "I'm the hothead Danvers, you know? You're like, so good vibes all the time."
"I agree, and I don't even hang out with you guys that much." Gwen remarks before moving to grab her shower stuff. You prop yourself up on the bed with a chair.
"What are you trying to tell me?" You ask your sister, and she gives a short chuckle, shrugging.
"Nothing, I just think it's weird." She mumbles. "You're so calm usually, but just walk into the same room as Wanda and you turn into a ticking time bomb. It feels like she has some sort of switch, or as that other saying goes, of the matchstick and the spark-"
"This conversation doesn't make any sense." You interrupt by frowning and standing up. "I am as I have always been, and it's not my fault if Wanda is the most annoying creature on the planet who keeps wanting to beat me at everything. I'll be taking a shower before you come up with any other weird sayings."
The locker room was a complete mess, but at least you were distracted by Gwen's comments about the competition and about the Avengers planning a sleepover to care about.
Since the next competitions were not until the afternoon, you finished your shower and decided to put on a comfortable sweater to spend the next few hours with Bucky at the lake, and were just finishing putting on your socks when giggles attracted your attention.
Well, you recognized the sound, and you had a hundred insults ready to use, but when you turned your face and had the image of Wanda in a towel, they all disappeared with any other coherent thought.
She was laughing at some comment her colleague made, but when her gaze met with yours, her smile faltered.
"Hey, Danvers, nice running today." She complimented, the sentence loaded with sarcasm. 
"Yeah, Y/N, congratulations on the silver medal." Wanda's friend, you think her name is Monica, said and unlike the brunette, she seemed completely sincere. 
You didn't respond with more than a hum of understanding, suddenly hyperaware that Wanda was without clothes just a few feet away from you. Turning your attention back to your socks, you cleared your throat softly, trying to keep your gaze in front of you.
Wanda took up a locker three feet away from yours. You could see her figure out of the corner of your eye. Long legs exposed and-"
You cleared your throat again, shaking your head quietly. 
"Are you going to watch the boys' race, Y/N?" It was Monica who asked - from the locker behind yours - and you frowned slightly.
"Hmm, I'm not sure." You muttered, feeling your face heat up when you saw Wanda take her underwear out of the cabinet. " I don't really have anyone to watch there."
"Really? But I thought you and that long-haired cutie were going out." Monica comments excitedly, and you turn your head to her with confusion. "What's his name again? Ben?"
"Bucky." You correct and don't notice the way Wanda is glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, pretending to be busy with her own clothes. "And we're not dating, he's just my friend. Besides, he decided not to run."
Monica makes a noise of agreement, and you look away because she is suddenly changing and you don't want to be disrespectful.
"We'll watch Pietro race, but I'd honestly rather hang out at the arcade." Monica continues. "We can play something after the race, can you call your sister to join us?"
"Sure, Monica." You mutter finishing your shoes. You stand, and turn around, ready to say goodbye, but you face Wanda without a towel and simply freeze.
She, despite the soft pink appearing on her cheeks, holds your gaze, a small smile threatening to leave her lips as she works to put on her bra. You let your gaze lower, your heart racing in your ears as the image of full breasts and down to her belly and-"
"O-kay, I'll see you later." You gasp with a very hot face, stumbling off the bench and running so fast from the locker room that you leave Monica with a confused expression.
"What was that?" She asks, and Gwen, who you didn't even remember to say goodbye to, shrugs her shoulders.
"I think she may be trying to avoid arguments." She suggests, and the comment makes Wanda sigh softly as she finishes dressing. "Speaking of which, Maximoff, any chance you'll go easy on Y/N? She gets stressed when she loses to you."
Wanda chuckles. " Not a chance."
–//–
One of the afternoon competitions, besides the boys' race, was archery. Which meant watching Kate Bishop, a girl from the year before yours, destroy all the older students. Her coach, Clint Barton, kept smiling proudly with each completed trial, and you overheard some students from the Avengers saying how he was sure to write a letter of recommendation there when the time came for Kate to enter the university.
However, this year you were distracted. Bucky and Carol were sitting next to you, clapping and whistling for Kate along with her friends - Yelena Belova, who was coincidentally the sister of your sister's long-time crush, Natasha Romanoff, and Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, the latter two being on the soccer team with Bucky.
While everyone was impressed by the long-range targets, you were trying to keep the image of Wanda out of your head. The problem was that ever since you saw her without a towel in the locker room, the curve of her waist, and of her breasts seemed to have stuck.
"Are you okay?" Bucky's voice snapped you out of your fantasy. "Your face is red."
"I'm fine." You mumble grudgingly, stretching out your legs and letting your cap cover your eyes. "I'm just resting my eyes."
"Kate just hit a target in the sky." He comments. " It was pretty incredible."
"I bet it was." You merely reply, the image of something far more interesting in your head. Bucky makes a confused face but doesn't insist. 
When the next contestant was announced, you grunted softly and started to get up, muttering that you were feeling queasy and were going to get some air. The ironic comment about you being outside already made by Carol was ignored.
You ended up in the back of one of the huts, and as you leaned your back against the wood, you took a deep breath.
Stop thinking about her. Stop thinking-
"Victory is already ours but you didn't have to skip the game." The teasing made you flinch. On any other day, before what happened in the locker room at least, any comment from Wanda would have been rebutted with an equally sarcastic one. But the image of her naked torso was still fresh in your mind, insistent, and you just wanted to be left alone.
"Fuck off, Maximoff." Aggressiveness failed in your tone, as your voice faltered hoarsely over your thoughts. You didn't have time to fix your mistake - Wanda was already mockingly chuckling, slow steps toward you.
"You know, I've been practically fencing back home. I even have a private tutor now." She informs you, to which you just roll your eyes without patience, trying to look at everything but the girl in front of you. "Maybe it's time for that trophy to stamp another name."
You chuckled dryly, stealing a glance at her.  "In your dreams."
"No, I'll just kick your ass in reality." She assures you finally close enough. "It'll be too easy, you're all distracted this year..."
Your breath hitched in your throat as Wanda simply began to move closer, eyes intense and provocative as her tone of voice. You stared at her in shock at the magnetic tension between you, wondering if she would have the courage to break the distance as you wished to do. Wait, since when did you-
"Maximoff, Danvers." The voice of one of the monitors broke the momentum completely and made you both jump in fright, away from each other as if you had been burned. "The game is still going on. What are you two doing alone here? I hope it's not another fight-"
"No, sir-"
"Go mind your own business, Logan." You cut off the apologies of the good girl next to you, practically pushing her out of your way as you moved away from the cabin wall. The monitor grimaced at the hostility, but you knew him long enough to know you wouldn't have a problem. Logan was like an older sibling, and you didn't need another in this position. "We were just talking, or rather, Maximoff was bugging me, as usual."
Wanda snorted angrily, but Logan rolled his eyes impatiently at the whole thing. "Back to the game, girls." He ordered, ignoring your grumbling that you were already walking anyway and waiting for Wanda to do the same.
She followed you back to the bow field - Surprisingly quiet. You were too busy trying not to think about her to notice, and at some point, you both took completely opposite directions, drifting apart in the crowd of students.
Carol, however, noticed you coming, and as soon as you were seated again, she looked at you with a frown.
"What were you and Wanda doing?"
The question startled you as if your sister had been able to read your last thoughts. You grimaced immediately, knowing that your face was blushing.
"What? Nothing." You assured quickly, irritation in your voice. "We just bumped into each other in the entryway."
Carol didn't buy the lie judging by the look on her face, but she didn't have time to question - Kate won the event undefeated, and a crowd of clapping and celebrations erupted in the open field.
With the last match of the day, and having won the vast majority of the challenges, the Avengers were happy enough for a Victory party - Which was nonetheless a direct tease to the Skrulls, who by some miraculous luck, if manage to win all the next day's matches, could win the tournament. In this way, the crowd took the celebration back to the camp's main campfire, where the staff arranged dining tables and benches for the first outdoor meal of the holidays.
Alcohol was obviously not allowed, and that never stopped campers from smuggling it between disguised water bottles. 
As one of the athletes for tomorrow's competitions, you decided to stay away from alcohol - quite unlike your sister, who took advantage of vodka shots to build up the courage to talk to Natasha Romanoff.
You were watching her awkward attempts from a safe distance with Bucky beside you, laughing softly when the boy announced that he was also going to try his luck with the one he liked tonight.
The thing was, Bucky didn't like anyone - As far as you knew. So the information caught you by surprise.
"Wait. What?" 
But he chuckled, waving to a front with his glass, and you frowned trying to find the person. It took you a moment to realize that it was Sam Wilson, Co-Captain of the American Football Team. Avenger.
"Wow, he's..."
"An avenger, I know."
You chuckle, hiding your smile as you look down at your soda glass. "I was going to say handsome."
Bucky was blushing. You gave him the privacy to keep your gaze on Sam, knowing it would get worse if you stared at your friend. 
"Fuck, yeah, I know." He gasped softly making you laugh. 
"When did this happen?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, back at school?" He starts half uncertain. "We played together and he started to follow me on Instagram. One day, just playing conversation and even insults until it turned into a habit..." He jokes with a short laugh. "We came back here and it made sense. You know?"
You giggle at your friend's nervousness and clumsiness, finding the whole thing kind of adorable. "Yeah, I guess so." You say. "Go ahead, talk to him."
He sighs, deciding to turn his glass all at once before waving at you and heading off to talk to Sam Wilson.
Alone, you think about joining some colleagues closer to the fire, but nearby laughter catches your attention.
There is something about Wanda Maximoff's beauty that takes your breath away. And it's not fair that it seems to grow in the dim light of the moon and the stars. And Wanda, surrounded by her friends, laughing at something she has been told, with soft dimples in her cheeks, it is even more unfair the way the image makes your stomach turn nervously.
Has she always been beautiful like this, since her first win, and you were too busy with the game to notice? Or somehow, the school has changed you enough in the last year to notice that although Wanda was the most insufferable person you knew, she needs to be recognized as the most beautiful girl you have ever seen.
And then, if you think about it as you notice her not minding having her moment with her friends interrupted to help a freshman camper who seems lost as to where their cabin is, you'll realize that Wanda, when she's not competing with you and testing all your buttons, is not so insufferable. You will notice that she has always been kind and thoughtful and that people don't make her the leader of everything because she is rich or beautiful, but because she is the best at organizing games, and guiding people. And if you think about it, you will recognize that Wanda is just as tired as you are at the races, sweaty and breathless, and just as bright and hard-working at everything. 
You suddenly think that Wanda deserved to win for the first time, as you have never acknowledged before. She must really be much brighter than you, because she surely wouldn't have taken all this time to realize what she was feeling.
Did it occur to you, so many years after you first laid eyes on her, that now you were really seeing her. There, near the campfire, accepting some more soda, so, so gorgeous.
'Fuck." You gasped in realization under your breath into the night, feeling something burn behind your eyes. 
Wanda, as if she could guess, even sense the moment you pined for her attention, looked away for her friends until she met your gaze. She hesitated before assuming the same expression as always - Ready to torment you - but this time, you looked on the verge of tears when you stared back.
The second she noticed, she frowned in concern, all the masked arrogance falling from her face. But you didn't give her any time to react, you left your glass on the first table you could find and practically ran away from there. From her.
And of course, Wanda would be stubborn and insistent enough to follow you. Not daring to call your name on the way as if she guessed that you were going to run until you disappeared, or worse, turn to her and tell her to mind her own business.
When you walked inside the fencing hall, empty of course, she let her head work without thinking straight about what she was accusing you of.
You barely reached the sword cabinet when she walked in through the ajar door.
"I should have known you would try to cheat." She sneered convinced that she had caught you in the act. You froze, not for the reasons she imagines, your hands still on the closet lock. "That's sad, even for you, Danvers."
"Shut up." 
She chuckled wickedly, crossing her arms as she stopped a little behind you. "Come on, if you admit it, I might consider not reporting you to the juries."
It was your turn to chuckle - Unlike her, almost tearfully. Wanda hesitated, confused, even more so when you turned to her, and your face had tears dried on the way there on your cheeks.
"Get out of here before I do something stupid." 
But Wanda uncrossed her arms, concern on her face. "I've never seen you cry before."
"Wanda, I swear to god-"
"Not even when you broke your arm back in the first year." She recalls as she takes a step forward, and another, raising one of her hands toward your face slowly. You know you should move away, push her before she could realize how much you were trembling, how hot your skin was, but you couldn't move a muscle it. Wanda touched your cheek and you gasped, unable to keep your eyes open. "Sweetheart, what happened?"
It was so tender, so loving that your heart jumped in your chest. You almost sobbed, but instead, your emotions mixed and you raised your hand to her wrist, gripping hard but not pushing away, your angry eyes hiding insecurity that Wanda could only see because she knew you well enough, perhaps better than anyone else, even if neither of you had ever admitted this.
"Why do you care?" That's what you retorted, and it took her by surprise because Wanda didn't expect to have to answer that question. Not to her father, when she insisted that she was going back to Camp this year and he demanded a reason, nor to Pietro who questioned her why she still kept the brooch with the Danvers name on it that you lost to her in a card game in sophomore year. And even less to you, with tears in your eyes inside the hall of the only game she could never win.  Her hesitation made you let go of her wrist, a tired sigh leaving your lips. "You don't. I...please, Wanda, just leave me alone."
You scared her. You looked so small, so insecure and uncertain, vulnerable. You? Never in a million years had you allowed Wanda to see you like this. She didn't know how to cope with it.
Your footsteps moved away, and by your breath, you were crying. She came closer but lost the courage to break your privacy. Her mind filled with anxiety - It didn't matter how long you had known each other. You were rivals, nothing more than that. Wanda had no right to invade your space.
"Go away." You insisted seriously with a voice hoarse with emotion and Wanda shuddered. It was different from the anger of losing - It was almost as if she had stabbed you in the back. Or had hurt you.
She swallowed dryly, and before you could repeat the order, she spoke:
"If I win tomorrow, you will tell me what happened."
The deal hangs in the air for a few moments, carrying the tension between the two of you. Wanda almost decides to leave without an answer when you sigh.
"What if I win?"
She smiles even though you can't see it. "You can pick your prize." She says and doesn't wait for you to think about it, clearing her throat before murmuring goodnight and leaving the hall.
You walk away to the trophy cabinet again and stare at one of the photographs of last year's Fencing team. You and Wanda are in it, in opposite positions. And for the first time in three years, you wish she were standing right next to you.
–//–
Sleep puts some sense into your head. 
You were practically mortified with shame after thinking about the whole interaction with Wanda the night before, imagining that it now gave her enough power to somehow humiliate you and then hating that you thought that way of Wanda, who despite the rivalries, didn't seem the sort of person who would use a moment like that to mock you in the least.
So you had a foolproof plan the next morning: You would win fencing, and ask Wanda to stay away from you for the rest of the summer as your prize, succinctly hiding any unwanted feelings until it was time to leave Camp so that you would never have to see Wanda Maximoff again.
You think you were lucky this whole thing was happening in the last year.
The next day of competitions seemed to have been more aggressive than the previous one. To your complete happiness, the Avengers were irresponsible enough about the previous day's party to get careless.
The Skrull won the day's activities - Tight, you have to admit - but still champions. It wasn't all of them, unfortunately, but it would put both teams through to the final day of matches the next afternoon.
Fencing was one of the last competitions. 
You managed to avoid Wanda and her worried glances all morning, and consequently, your friends and sister, who noticed the lack of fighting between you. 
The fencing hall was considerably full when you arrived. Although most people didn't share much interest in the sport, everyone enjoyed watching you and Wanda compete. 
She was already in uniform when you arrived, and you ignored with a tightness in your chest her attempt to search in your face for any discomfort from the previous night. 
"You're late, Danvers." Professor Jacques Duquesne warned, also in uniform and with a sword at his waist. You sighed wearily, taking off your jacket to put on your uniform.
"Sorry, I... I didn't want to come." You muttered quietly, and the man frowned in confusion.
"What was that?" he asked without having heard, but you forced a smile.
"Nothing. Shall we get started?"
The spectators arranged themselves around you just as the teams were getting into position to compete. As Captains, you and Wanda were the last.
Your team won most of the duels, which on any other occasion would have cheered you up infinitely. But not today, because you spent most of the competition stealing glances at Wanda, who did the same, unsure of whether or not to approach you.
You had to face the champions of her team, as did Wanda with yours, and so when you finally went to face each other, you shared the slightly breathless but undefeated posture.
Wanda removed her protective helmet to drink water, and her slightly ruffled hair and rosy cheeks made your heart soar. 
Somehow, you decided that teasing her was a better idea than complimenting her on how pretty she looked.
"Hey Maximoff, did Daddy pay for private lessons for the rest of your team as well?"
Your team laughed at the joke, but Wanda finished a long sip of the water leisurely, staring at you long enough to make you feel completely clumsy.
As soon as she returned the bottle to the table, she stared at you again.
"Are you really going to pretend nothing happened yesterday, Danvers?" 
Everyone who was paying attention to the conversation whispered in curiosity, and your body froze. Wanda didn't seem to mind the audience one bit, but you huffed impatiently when Carol asked what she was talking about.
Without answering either of them, you turned your back and walked to the mat, waiting for the competition to begin.
As it turns out, teasing and ignoring Wanda seemed to have infuriated her. The hall filled with tension once the last duel began, and you, and all your confidence as an undefeated champion faltered when Wanda became a beast in the sport overnight.
She scored two points in a row, moving so quickly and masterfully that if you didn't have a reputation to uphold you would have congratulated her.
"It looks like we're going to have a new champion this year." Mr.Duquesne commented proudly and teasingly, receiving a chorus of soft celebration from the Avengers present.
You've had enough.
She tried hard to maintain a defensive position, but you scored within seconds of the announcement that the round had begun.
With the tip of the sword still on her chest, you teased:
"I guess we can't buy talent after all." 
Wanda grunted angrily, without waiting for the next round to be announced, spun the sword striking yours, and resumed the duel. You fought back every blow with the mastery of a champion, but Wanda didn't back down once.
"What's the matter, Maximoff, can't get me?" You sneered between one defense and another, irritating her even more. When it looked like she was going to hit you, you spun your body around and hit her in the arm.
The audience, completely tense, split between boos and cheers of celebration. The teacher laughed impressed.
"It's a draw." He said. "Girls, get back to-"
But Wanda attacked you - For a microsecond, you managed to react in time and prevent her from scoring.
She seemed a lot angrier all of a sudden, and you kept up the defense, waiting for a gap that apparently she wasn't going to provide.
Long steps backward to avoid the sword in your direction, in an albeit hurried, fully coordinated dance, Wanda managed to take the fight to the outside. 
The crowd got excited and drowned out Mr.Duquesne's protests about rules, the whole group following you and Wanda outside. Any campers who had previously been uninterested in watching the match took an immediate interest in the fight taking place, and it wasn't long before there was a large number of people in an open circle around the huts, trying to watch.
In one of the deflections, you had to do a somersault between two haystacks to dodge a blow that was impossible to block, stealing certain victory from the girl behind you, who grunted in annoyance.
In the motion, you knocked the helmet off your head.
"Going to play dirty then, Maximoff? Fine." You gasped equally affected at the girl who had paused her attacks. "It's our last year, let's make it count."
Wanda removed her helmet as well, her sword still raised for any attempted attacks. "I'm listening, Danvers." She returns between teeth, and you have to smile.
"I invoke a military challenge." You announce then, surprising her for only half a second. "No masks, no tips." You continue, the audience getting excited. "First one to draw blood wins. I might give you a nice scar to remind you who defeated you."
Some Skrulls laugh, but Wanda is not intimidated. She throws her helmet away and raises her chin in your direction. 
"What about our deal?"
You swallow dryly, but try to disguise it. "Still standing."
A glimmer of a smile forms on Wanda's lips, and she has the nobility to wait for you to nod before attacking next time.
It's suddenly much harder to fight Wanda. You blame these stupid feelings on your chest because once you realize that if you hit her, you're going to hurt her, you just can't do it.
Wanda doesn't seem to have much of a problem with that, because she attacks you with fervor. You think you might lose, because of the way she starts cornering you, and no chance for you to do another flip, so you despair. If you lose, you'll have to confess why you were crying, and that's unacceptable.
She throws a low, clean hit, but you jump. Before Wanda can get ready for the next one, you grab her waist and pull her to you.
The protest about the rules is muffled in your ears as your lips crash against hers. Wanda gasps, closing her eyes and dropping her sword to the ground at the same second the entire audience goes completely silent, shocked.
It's good, no, it's incredible. As breathtakingly overwhelming as you imagined kissing Wanda Maximoff would feel. She gasps against your lips, pressing back, and your chest screams. 
The audience vibrates and you wake up, realizing what you had just done.
You let go of Wanda with a long step away from her, who opens her eyes at the same moment, her breathing now affected for a completely different reason. She looks at you dumbfounded.
"W-what are you-" She tries as she steps forward, her hand raised towards your wrist, but you flinch. You raise your sword, and with one clean strike, hit her palm. 
The cut is small, but it makes her grunt in pain and surprise. You feel like you might start crying again, but you declare in a hoarse voice:
"I won."
Wanda's eyes fill with tears, but you assume they are tears of rage by the way she begins to shout angrily in the teacher's direction, saying that you had cheated while trying to be heard as the audience begins to shout your name and spread out in celebration.
Duquesne is equally in shock and mutters that technically there isn't a rule about kissing your opponent.
They lift you into the air, with the trophy, but when you capture Wanda's head-down posture and the completely hurt look she gives you before turning away, you don't feel like you've won anything.
–//–
With an injury, Wanda was out of all the upcoming competitions, which were sure to count in the Skrulls' favor.
Your school couldn't be happier, and you couldn't be more miserable.
Wanda was walking around the camp with her hand bandaged and you just wanted to get away from the people who kept congratulating you on the duel. 
There was also the matter of the angry stares from the other Avengers, especially your opponent's twin, which only made you feel like the worst person in the world.
When night came, and a few groups decided to set up card tables from poker to blackjack, you slipped outside to breathe properly.
The universe was surely testing you when you met Wanda across the door, and to add to your misfortune, she wasn't alone.
Some stupid guy was cornering her against the wall of one of the booths - clearly flirting by whispering things in her ear that made her giggle shyly.
With your jaw locked, you approached them in hard steps.
"Hey, Maximoff, I want to talk to you." You announced impatiently, feeling your chest burn with the scene in front of you.
She flinched at your sudden arrival, but the boy let out a short laugh.
"We're already in a conversation, cheater." He sneered, his hand on the wall coming down to Wanda's shoulders. "Why don't you go back to your cabin?"
"Listen here asshole-"
But Wanda sighed impatiently, pulling the boy's arm off her with a shove. "Fuck off you two, my day was bad enough to deal with this now."
She stormed off annoyed without caring, and you huffed impatiently. When the boy made mention of following her, you stepped in front of him, receiving a wry laugh.
"Back off, Danvers." He warned. "You may be a girl, but if you piss me off I'll break your face."
The kick to the ball made him bend his knees, grunting in pain. You didn't let him fall, holding him by the shoulders to mock against his ear:
"It's more the other way, don't you think?" He couldn't answer, still shaking from the blow. You pushed him away, and he fell to the ground, holding his front. "Stay away from her, she's mine."
Despite the pain, he gasped in confusion, "I thought you two hated each other, you maniac!"
Without bothering to respond, you headed off in the direction the girl had left.
Wanda was clearly not in the mood for conversation, but you had to chuckle as you realized where she was going - or practically running at hard paces. 
The fencing hall was empty of course. Even the Professor had joined the rest of the staff for the day's celebrations, and so you followed Wanda without any concern.
"I don't want to talk to you, Danvers." She warned between teeth still on her back, hearing your breaths panting from the rush of having to catch up with her. You chuckle humourlessly, closing the door behind you.
"But you got time for some idiot to flirt with you?" your retort came out so bitter - so jealous - that Wanda turned her face to you with a frown in complete confusion.
"How is that your problem?" She demanded but you shrugged relaxedly. The lack of an answer only irritated her more. "I've had enough of you for today don't you think? Leave me alone."
You snickered taking a step forward that made her lock her jaw.
"Come on, what's this?" You teased. "One defeat and you get tired of all? Don't you even want to try a rematch?"
It was Wanda's turn to chuckle, the tension growing between the two of you with every second. 
"So you can cheat again? Hard pass."
You smiled, raising your hands in the air as a sign of surrender. 
"I don't need to cheat, Maximoff." You retorted. "Everyone, including you and I, knows I'm the best." You declare receiving a snort and a roll of the eyes. But you continue to smile, not losing your confidence. "In fact, I bet I can beat you even without a sword."
Wanda shook her head. "You know what, Danvers? You must have had a few beers, huh?" She deduced, motioning to the sword cabinet and continuing to speak without giving you a chance to deny it. "Any other day, I'd tell you to fuck off and leave me alone. But you were a brat today, that whole scene and whatever manipulation you were trying to pull off with the crying and then the kissing..."
You hesitate, losing your posture completely. "Wanda, I wasn't-"
But she chuckles, interrupting you. "Whatever it is, let's put an end to it." She says seriously, arming herself with one of the swords. "You got what you wanted. Me, out of all competitions because of this stupid injury and your team winning tomorrow. Yep, I admit it. Everyone knows you guys are going to win baseball, it's your school's specialty, and there's no reason to deny it. But let's be honest about today: you cheated. And I want you to acknowledge that I would have won."
You sigh, deciding to put an end to those games with each other, as Wanda wanted. But not in the way she expects.
Shrugging, you gesture with open arms. "I'm really sorry, Wanda." You say in a false tone of regret. "I'm sorry you're such a bad loser."
Wanda grunted in irritation, and in the blink of an eye, spun the sword around - Hitting your open hand and mirroring your bruises. You gasped in pain, taking a step backward.
"What the hell-"
But your shock was short-lived, Wanda moved and you reacted. Without a sword, your only option was to dodge and that was the hardest task. 
"Just admit it, Danvers!" Wanda demanded between one blow and another, growing breathless as the movements went on. "I am. Better.Than. You." Each word was punctuated with an attempt to hit you - Not really to hurt but to lean in and mark. 
She finally hit you for the second time when she trapped you between one cupboard and another. You protested in irritation at the gentle burning on your thigh.
"You little shit." You cursed low as you dodged her last. Wanda smiled in satisfaction. 
Somehow, you managed to get around her after a miscalculated blow that pinned her sword to a cushion. Wanda got busy trying to pull the item out and gave you enough time to jump on her.
Her healthy hand tried to pull the sword out to hit you but you kicked the handle, and the item flew to the ground. Wanda protested breathlessly, trying to struggle away, but you pressed her against the wall of the room by the waist.
Faces flushed from the exertion and proximity, she looked at you with a fury in her eyes that didn't just look like anger.
"Fuck off, Danvers, let me go!" She demanded clearly affected, her fists closed against your shoulders. You weren't thinking straight - Since when did Wanda look so beautiful when she was pissed off? - She tried to throw punches but you grabbed her fists, holding them tightly against you. "You just can't help it, can you? You know you can't beat me and you just keep cheating!"
"Yeah, I can't help it." You pant, letting your gaze fall to her mouth. Her breathing hitches and when you start to lean in, Wanda gasps, stopping struggling.
"Don't." She asks in a whisper, and you stop leaning in the same instant, worried eyes scanning her face. Wanda's fill with tears. "I can't take it... if it's just a game... if you don't mean it."
Your heart races in your chest, threads of hope burning outwards.
You stare into her eyes, trying to read everything she hasn't explained. "You... You want me to mean it?"
Wanda sighs incredulously, tired. 
"I've been waiting for you to notice me for three years, Danvers." 
"W-what?"
Wanda looks away, despite her rosy cheeks like your own, she looks sad.
"I'm just tired of all this cat and mouse between us." She continues. "Trying to capture your attention for the few days we have together each year. You've never seen me that way, and I just don't have it in me to keep trying to get you to notice me." She declares with a sigh. "Let me go, okay? It's our last year, you'll never see me again after this spring, it doesn't have to be weird on our last days. We can do a truce, and be mature about-"
Instead of letting her finish her completely meaningless monologue for feelings that Wanda has no idea are much reciprocated, you just kiss her. Though abrupt, your lips are soft on hers. She shudders, first surprised and then affected, ready to reciprocate when you loosen her.
"I notice you, Wanda." You confess in a husky voice and short breath. "Every damn day of this camp, from the first moment I saw you. I noticed you, and I liked you. So much, it infuriated me. All I could think about was you and your face and your jokes and every little smile of victory. I never hated you, Wanda, I just hated how much I cared about you."
She gasps softly, trying to believe the confessions. "B-but you never said anything..."
"Neither did you." You retort with a small smile. "We just competed. Yelling at each other, trying to... just put it out, never saying the right words. Well, I'll do the honors, I guess. Wanda, I like you. I'm in love with you. The whole puppy love, to the moon and back, lovey-dovey, carry a torch for-"
Wanda interrupts your sweet teasing with a soft, emotional giggle. "Shut up, you idiot." She says, pulling you by the collar of the blouse to kiss you again. Slower than the other time, bringing delicious shivers to your entire body. She breaks away only to say she feels the same way.
Then you just kiss her again, just to make sure. It's easy to get addicted to the feeling of her lips on yours until her tongue slides over and starts to get too hot all around. The sound of lips slapping together mingles with affected gasps until the pace picks up and all the accumulated lust from so long of rivalry burns between you.
Wanda grows impatient - Her mouth firmly pressed to yours distracts you from where her hands are moving. You grunt affected as she scratches under your shirt, your back, and your torso, trying to pull you over her. 
You press your hips together to keep her against the wall pulling out an affected whimper that makes you shiver - But surrendered to the urge, you forget about recent events and press your open palm to the wall for support. The pain is immediate and makes you break the kiss with a yelp.
Wanda opens her eyes worriedly, trying to push all the arousal away. "What's wrong?" She asks, but you're already bringing your bruised hand to chest height.
"I forgot about it." You mumble, trying to squeeze your hand to make the pain go away. Wanda bites back a smile.
"Karma's a bitch, huh?" she teases, getting a short laugh out of you. Your instinct is to kiss her again at the same intensity as before, but Wanda doesn't let you, breaking the session the next moment. "Easy tiger." 
A little breathless and definitely missing kissing her, you ask, "Don't you want it anymore?"
She licks her lips, looking away to try and gain some rationality again. "I don't think you'll be able to do much with a bruised hand, huh?" It's clearly a joke, but you're too turned on to catch it.
"Well, I have another one, and my mouth..." Wanda stares at you in stunned shock, her face burning and her eyes darkening a little. You grunt in shame, hiding your face in her collarbone. "Shit, you didn't mean it."
She giggles awkwardly, wrapping her arms around your waist. "You need a bandage, baby. We'll have time for this later."
You raise your gaze to her again, and Wanda stares at you doubtfully from your expression. "I like it when you call me that."
She smiles, teasing and loving at the same time. "Better than shithead, I suppose."
"They both have their charm, I guess." You joke back managing to make her laugh before stealing a few more kisses.
All the way to the infirmary, all you can think about is how happy you are - And how your friends are going to adjust to the new dynamic.
–//–
Falling into a routine with Wanda was as easy as falling for her.
The familiar teasing didn't end - In a way, it got infinitely better, because, after each little bickering, you and Wanda made up with lots of kisses.
The most absurd thing was your sister's reaction. No surprise at all.
"I mean, everyone saw you two kissing." She retorted unimpressed, continuing to eat her breakfast as if you hadn't spent the previous day preparing the best way to tell. You huffed indignantly, but Wanda sighed, giving you a pat on the back before going to sit down. The same reaction for your friends, who seemed even somewhat reassured that now they wouldn't have to endure the arguing.
As for the rest of the people, well, everyone else had their own lives to take care of to give a damn about what Wanda and you have been up to.
With the baseball game approaching and the end of Spring Break, there was an understanding between you and Wanda that your time together was coming to an end. You didn't want to talk about it - to avoid creating impossible expectations if you considered the distance between California and New York and the hurt of an inevitable goodbye. 
For now, you and Wanda were enjoying as much time together as possible, and that included escaping the game to make out before and between breaks.
Wanda giggled affectedly at the tickling your fingers did next to her hips, an attempt to make her relax to what was about to happen between you since the first kisses began. The question hung in the air and the way your breaths were uncompressed and your clothes crumpled.
"They'll start looking for us at some point..." Wanda recalled, the noise of the game resuming in the background, muffled by the closed doors of the empty locker room where you two were hiding. Despite the warning, her hands were entwined behind your neck, and her legs tight around your waist. The cheer skirt pulled up by your hands on her thighs.
You hum in understanding, distracted by the soft skin of her collarbone. You traced a path down to the valley of her covered breasts and Wanda shuddered, moaning in anticipation.
But as soon as your hands reached under her skirt, fingers playing with the fabric of her panties, Wanda tensed anxiously, biting her lips as she sought your gaze. 
"Is everything okay?" You asked immediately, stopping your movements and staring back at her. "Do you want me to continue...?"
Wanda let out a broken breath, the look full of anxiety made you frown. You were ready to assure her it was okay if she refused when she replied:
"I want to but... I've never done it before." She confesses in a small whisper, and your heart skips a beat. "And also, I had to talk to my friends about this, and they told me it would be special because we like each other but I just kept thinking that it's going to happen and it will be amazing and when you leave, I'll never be able to do it again without remembering you and I'll be missing you back home..."
"Hey, breathe." You interrupted her anxious babbling with a small chuckle, moving your hands to her face, and squeezing her cheeks for a moment. "God, you're so beautiful." You murmured staring at her adoringly. Wanda blushed, looking away, "Hey, look at me, sweetheart. You want to talk about leaving?"
She swallowed dryly, nodding. "I'm sorry." She mumbles immediately. "I know we kind of agreed not to talk about it, but... fuck, I really like you. If I, you know... have sex with you, I'm just sure I'll fall harder. And I don't know if I want to go through the pain of losing you in a few days."
You swallowed dryly, caressing her cheeks as you absorbed her words. Wanda was even more nervous at your silence.
"Say something, please."
You smiled, staring at her. "I'm sorry, I just... I really am in love with you, Wanda." You confessed tenderly, making her blush. "Sex or no sex, I really am. And saying goodbye to you will hurt." 
Wanda nods sadly before hugging you. "Yeah, I know." When she sniffles softly, you kiss her neck to calm her, until her breathing stabilizes again and Wanda releases you to kiss you gently, once and twice, until it starts to get hot again and she sighs against your lips, her trembling fingers groping your body unhurriedly as if she wants to memorize.
"Baby..." She called softly against your lips, her hands moving up into your blouse and making you shudder. "I want to make love to you." She whispered taking all the air out of your lungs. "Give me something to remember you by."
Despite the nervousness and excitement, you managed to tease as your hands retraced their way under her skirt. "What, the matching scars aren't enough for you, darling?" 
Wanda lets out an affected giggle at the proximity to your joke about the healed bruises on your hands, but the sound turns to a deep sigh when her panties slip down her legs. You maintain eye contact with her, pulling the item down until you take it off by her ankles. Wanda bites her lip hard as she sees you on your knees, moving up your way again with kisses on her legs.
Her muscles quiver as you kiss the inside of her thighs, and Wanda inhales a shaky breath, her hands gripping the table she's sitting on tightly.
"Be gentle." She asks as she feels the kisses coming closer to where she is burning. You let out a soft laugh, rising again to kiss her on the mouth. Wanda has no time to be eager for the delay of her relief, because you grab her waist and pull her closer, the friction between your hips making her whimper. 
Your tongue slides over hers hungrily, kissing her until she's dizzy with arousal, and instinctively starts forcing her hips against yours - The uncovered intimacy smearing the wetness on the fabric of your leg and making you moan against her.
One of your hands spreads her legs open by her thigh, fingers coming up fast to tease her entrance and make Wanda break the kiss with an affected whimper.
"Y-yes, baby, please, no more teasing." Wanda moans, throwing her hips against your hand. "I'm ready."
You grunt softly, tentatively cupping the folds between your fingers, spreading the wetness over the entire length. "Hmm, I can feel that." You teased softly, pulling your hand away to get a taste. Wanda choked, blushing heavily as she watched you suck your fingers one by one, rolling her eyes in pleasure as you tasted her. The next second, you moved your hand back between her legs, staring her in the eye before sliding a finger inside. She moaned at the intrusion, and you let her get used to it, encouraging her with your free hand on her back, relaxing her with a gentle massage.
"There you go... all the way in." You narrated softly, having to maintain all mental control not to fuck her roughly, feeling your body vibrate with the sensation of Wanda's soft wet walls on your fingerprints. She pulsed against you, her hands gripping your blouse tightly as the repetitive motion made her legs twitch. "God, you're so tight." You grunted, hiding your face in her collarbone and angling your palm to press against her clit as well. Wanda let out a loud yelp, wrapping one of her legs around your waist and increasing your reach.
"M-more, please-I just need-" She tried to formulate, starting to follow your movements with her hips. You shushed her against her neck, kissing your way to her ear. 
"Relax, I'll give you what you need, baby." Was your only warning before removing yourself from her, only to sink two fingers inside next time. Wanda gasped at the intrusion, but you swallowed her moan with your own mouth, not moving inside her until she was ready.
Soon, your movements had resumed, and with your mouth glued to hers, you swallowed each breathless moan as Wanda began to tremble in your fingers, squeezing as her orgasm built. 
Just as she was panting and restless, the locker room door opened. She raised desperate eyes to you, but you covered her mouth with your free hand and sped up your movements.
Your skin muffled her whimpers, and you bit your lips at the sinful image in front of you.
"Danvers? Maximoff? Are you guys here? The coach is looking for two." it was some of the monitors, probably checking the camp behind whoever was running away from the game. You reached a deep sweet spot inside Wanda and she threw her head back.
The monitor grumbled in frustration and the door closed again - You barely noticed, bringing the girl beneath you to her climax. Wanda spread herself in your hand, her body spasming against you and a long muffled moan against your hand.
Her pupils were so dark they nearly hold any green.
"Fucking gorgeous." You praised as you removed your hand to kiss her, and Wanda corresponded with difficulty, smiling breathlessly as she tried to recover from the intensity of her first orgasm.
As soon as she could properly match it, Wanda dominated the kiss - One hand moving up to the back of your neck, to tug at your hair as she bit your bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from you.
"Please, can we go back to the cabin?" It sounded like a request but felt like an order by the way Wanda dug her nails into your waist. A warning. "I want you to be comfortable when you go down on me."
"God, Wanda, you're such a tease." You grumbled in a mixture of arousal and embarrassment, moving like an obedient puppy as she stood up on shaky legs and guided you by the hand back to the cabins. 
Her panties are tucked tightly in your pocket.
–//–
Disgustingly adorable, is how your friends would describe the last few days in the company of you and Wanda, who have apparently unlearned how to function away from each other.
Especially the last day - Without any concern for the rest of the world while in an intense make-out session against the bus that was supposed to take you and Carol back to California.
"Jesus, I'm going to have nightmares." Your sister complained with a grimace to her now official girlfriend - Natasha Romanoff - who was putting away the last bag in the family car that was going to take her home. The redhead laughed, looking at where Carol was staring and knowing she was referring to your hand firmly squeezing Wanda's ass as she giggled between the kisses you two shared. 
"Why are they behaving like they're never going to see each other again? It's traumatizing." It wasn't Nat, but Bucky who spoke as he arrived with Sam beside him, who laughed in agreement. Carol made a mischievous face.
"Well, maybe that's my fault? I may have forgotten to mention to my lovely sister that Nat told me that Wanda was going to the same college as her next year."
"Pretty mean, Danvers." Nat commented with a certain pride in her voice. Carol laughed.
"When you share a room with a couple in love, you'll understand." She retorted. The group continued to watch you and Wanda, until you kissed deeply in farewell until she let you on the bus. Carol sighed. "Maybe if she starts whining on the way, I'll consider saying that she and Wanda chose the same college without even knowing it."
The group chuckled, saying goodbye one last time.
683 notes · View notes
theapangea · 8 months
Text
Two First Dates - Part 1
Chapter Title: The Set Up
Pairing/Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader
Word Count: 2205
Summary: After hearing about your date with Eddie Munson, Steve decides to finally ask you out. 
Warning: None.
A/N: A series I wrote a while ago but finally moving it over to Tumblr! Enjoy my loves!
*Also posted on AO3: theapangea*
Part 2 | Part 3
Masterlist <3
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Today was weirdly peaceful. Normally, Fridays are busy but today seemed oddly quiet. There were no last minute dads getting off of work trying to figure out which children’s movie to rent or a couple wondering what movie would be good background noise for their make out session. 
The day mostly consisted of you and Steve doing your job’s mundane duties. To be honest, it was a little tense between the two of you lately. Nothing in particular stuck out in your mind, but it seemed like Steve didn’t want to talk to you at all. You would notice that his eyes would linger just a bit too long and he would avoid any and all situations that involved talking to you. Something was bugging him and you just decided to leave it at that. 
You spent most of the day rewinding tapes, stocking, and ignoring Steve. He seems to always spend his days the same, trying to get a date. He hasn’t been all that lucky since high school and sometimes you kind of felt bad for him. He would go out with any girl who happened to say yes to his boyish charm yet come in the next day complaining about their horrible date and her horrible kissing.
You didn’t want to hear about Steve's excuse for a dating life. Not because it wasn’t funny as hell to see him struggle to keep a girlfriend, but because you were somewhat jealous of the other girls he would give his attention to. You wouldn’t dare to ever say this outloud, but Steve was definitely someone you have a major crush on. 
If you are a girl from Hawkins, you have had a crush on Steve Harrington at some point in your life. Your crush just seemed to never dissipate. 
“You’re really going on a date with Eddie Munson?” Steve basically shouted from behind the counter, pulling you from your mindless thoughts.
You look over the rack of movies in front of you, your hands automatically fixing them as you respond, “What…” you pause for a brief moment, “how did you hear about that?”
“Robin.” He chuckled. He couldn’t believe that you would go on a date with that loser willingly.
“It’s none of your business Steve.” You groan while putting another tape onto the shelf. It was true though, you were going on a date with Eddie Munson tonight but you didn’t want Steve’s opinion about the matter.
“It is when you’re going out with that freak.” He cringes at the thought of you and Eddie Munson actually going on a date. You groan in frustration at his comment. Vowing now to never listen to Steve Harrington ever again. 
You put a couple more tapes on the shelf. You could feel his presence next to you before he states, “I didn’t even think he was your type.” It was almost like he was intentionally trying to stand too close. 
“What exactly do you think my type is Steve?” You questioned. 
Steve instantly stands up a little straighter, pulling his vest down a bit. Clearly indicating that he was your type. Where would he even get that idea? You never said anything to anybody about your crush on Steve. Do you think he knows? Do you think he is playing with you to make you confess that you are in love with him?
“You wish,” you scoff at his inaudible comment and push past him. To be honest, you wished you could build up the courage to tell Steve how you really felt. This whole love-hate friendship thing that has been going on for the past couple of months has been torture. You loved the teasing and the way he would wear that cocky smile after a snarky remark made you want to kiss him even more. But you never got the feeling that he felt the same way.
“Come on, go out with me tonight.” He follows closely behind. His request sends shivers down your spine. The words you always wanted to hear were now being spoken yet at the worst possible time in your life. Fuck Steve Harrington for always having the worst timing. 
“You can’t just now ask me on a date because you know I am going out with Eddie.” You turn around to face hime, pointing out his obvious intentions. “Also, you should ask me out because you want to not because it’s to stop me from dating Eddie.” You add, your eyes meeting his and suddenly his presence feels extremely close.
You can see he was examining your face. Examining what you were actually thinking and wanting to take all of you in. You were standing so close that you could see the same razor scars that lined his chin. You could see the slight emptiness in his eyes and the pressure of growing up too fast. 
Your mind racing with all the things you wanted to say to him but never got the chance. Let’s face it, you were so small compared to what he had to offer. You turn back around before he could read too much further into the obvious expression on your face. Your safety behind the counter and computer couldn’t have come quicker. The soft clicking sound of your fingertips typing away filled the small store. 
Steve huffs, his forearms resting on top of the counter, “Y/N, I do want too. Plus you will have way more fun with me anyways.” He adds, his puppy dog eyes tearing a piece of your heart away as you try to stay mad but can’t.
You could feel yourself giggling at his remark. Damn Steve. He had this way of getting under your skin yet also being able to get himself on your good side. He could talk himself into and out of any situation, especially with you. He knew he had you wrapped around his finger, but instead of actually asking you out on a date he would do anything to stop you from going on them. 
He wasn’t as confident as he wanted the world to view him as. He was lonely and heartbroken. Never fully recovering from dating Nancy Wheeler and never fully recovered from all the rejection since. He went from King Steve of Hawkins High to some unknown dude in the video store. How pathetic, his father always told him. 
But he liked it there, he liked hanging out with Robin…and you. Even though he would never confess actually wanting to hang out with you to your face. You were the reason he wasn’t lonely during the week while Robin was at school. You were the person who laughed at his jokes even if they weren’t that funny. Steve couldn’t believe that he was finally able to ask you out, the only bad part was that you were going on a date with Eddie first. Good job, Steve.
You stop typing for a moment and meet his gaze. His mind was trying to find the right words, any words to save himself.
“Eddie and I have a lot in common, which is why I said yes. Plus he had the guts to actually ask me out.” You confess, your words stinging more than you intended. But you were right, if Steve would have actually asked you out any other time than you would be more than willing to go with him. Hell, he was the one putting you in this situation.
“Fine.” Steve groans, his forehead now resting on the counter. You finally thought that you had won, that he was finally going to leave you alone. You go back to the computer screen, inputting the number on the tape cover.
“But we are going out tomorrow.” He demands. His confidence finally finding its voice. 
You giggle again. How could he be so demanding all the time? How could he just keep asking after you basically said no? “I’m not sure if I’m free.” You pretend to think about his offer when in reality you couldn’t believe that Steve Harrington continued to keep asking you out on a date. You almost had to pinch yourself, really hoping this was not some sort of dream. 
“I know you aren’t.” He wasn’t appeased by the joke, “I am picking you up at 5 tomorrow.” 
“Isn’t that a little early for dinner?” A puzzled look landing on your face.
“5 in the morning, duh.” He clarifies. The smile that formed on his face was unlike any other. You were now this big prize that he has won and he was happy to be able to show you off. The fact that he was finally able to go on a real date with you was amazing and nerve-wrecking.
“Morning?” You repeat as he walks away without another word. Why 5 in the morning? Why in the world would Steve want to even get up that early on a Saturday? You wondered what kind of plans he could possibly have at 5 in the morning. 
It was a little awkward for the rest of your shift together. Steve seemed oddly pleased with himself after your little interaction and you seemed completely torn between these two dates. You didn’t know what to do. On one hand, you were going on a date with someone who has actually made it clear that he wanted to date you. And on the other hand, you are going to go on a date with the literal man of your dreams. 
In a way, you felt guilty. You felt guilty because it felt like you were dragging Eddie into this situation. You knew in your heart that Steve was the one, but you weren’t completely sure if Steve really felt the same way. He could just really not want you to date Eddie and would do anything to stop it. 
Eddie has been asking you out nonstop since sophomore year of high school and Steve never gave you a second look in high school. Steve was one of your best friends and Eddie was someone you lost touch with after graduation.
You couldn’t make a decision between the two of them. How could you? How could you pick between them? You never thought in your small town life that two very attractive men would try and date you around the same time. 
The neverending thoughts of the next 24 hours and your next two dates made the rest of the day go by quickly. You had barely spoken five words to Steve since he asked you out. You were speechless. Absolutely speechless. 
When the clock struck 6pm and it was finally time to go home. You couldn’t help but to try and high tail it out the door without so much as a goodbye to your coworker. Coworker, that’s all he was. He wasn’t your knight in shining armor like you wanted him to be. He was a coworker that you see often and there's nothing much to it. You tried to remind yourself but it just wasn’t working. 
“You still want a ride home?” Steve calls while locking the doors and before you are out of earshot.
You stop before your feet leave the short sidewalk. Contemplating if you still need the ride home. In reality, you do, that was the reason you asked in the first place. But after today and your mind going thousands of miles per an hour, the last place you wanted to be is stuck in a metal box with Steve.
You turn on your heels, knowing that if he drove you home it would give you more time to get ready for your date with Eddie. “Sure” You huff.
“Don’t act so sad.” He opens the car door for you. 
Most of the car ride was silent to say the least. Awkward, yes. Uncomfortable, yes. But you liked driving with Steve. He’s given you a ride home a couple of times and he’s always so talkative. But today was different, he seemed quiet and distant. The radio hummed lowly but the silence was too much to bear. 
“You can still go out tonight with me instead.” He finally breaks the tension, before putting the car in park in front of your house.
You continue to look forward. You could feel his eyes burning a whole into your head, trying to figure out what is going on in your brain. 
“Steve, drop it.” You look over at him, his sight almost taking your breath away, “Besides what if I like Eddie more and just don’t want to go on the date with you tomorrow?” You snark.
“That wouldn’t happen.” Steve rebuttals, knowing damn well that he is right. 
The breathy chuckle escapes your lips as you just cannot believe this day. It was so far away from what you expected that you almost don’t believe you are alive right now. You got out of the car not saying another word. The loud bang of the car door echoing for miles.
“Hey,” He shouts, leaning forward over the passenger seat, “I can’t wait for our date tomorrow.”
You try to conceal the smile that has formed. Damn this day, damn the date, and damn Steve Harrington.
~~
Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!! <3
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icechippies · 3 months
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Unnamed Twomp fic
Ok so first TWOMP fic, I'm posting it here first because it needs a name for Ao3 and I dont have a good name yet. Each chapter will be a reblog of this one by me so keep an eye out, I am going to post the first two tonight.
Tags that it would probably have on Ao3: Angst and hurt/comfort, Argos/Mr Plant, Medical stuff, chainsaw Argos, bad medical decisions -Or something like that at least, idk Ao3 tags at the top of my head.
I wrote a LOT of notes to share with this. I'll uh, I'll just let them do the talking, chapters will be reblogged from this post as I decide I want to. When I post to Ao3 Kudos are appreciated but comments are what really help.
Notes: 
I am sick and haven’t been able to sleep for the past two nights except for a nyquill induced nap yesterday. I want to write but I don’t want to deal with 8+ characters in a scene, solution? Angsty hurt/comfort of everyone’s favorite murder boyfriends. This is my first TWOMP fic so it’s going to be a little iffy on the characterization I think, I’m testing the waters. If I over explain stuff in the notes it’s because I’m practically delirious. I will continue writing this until such time as I am no longer sick, which may be a while
I think Mr. Plant normally has some vines, but they are vestigial (Like how whales still have leg bones or humans have tailbones) and don’t really serve much of a purpose and mostly come from his neck where he turns from plant to humanoid.
A witches’ broom is a growth on a plant that can be caused by fungal, bacterial, or viral infections but can also be the result of random genetic mutation (Fasciation). It causes patches of extremely dense, unregulated growth. Viral witches' brooms often have no cure, the only thing that can really be done is remove the plant to prevent it from spreading, rose rosette virus being one of them. If left untreated, the dense growth of the plant will catch water and bacteria and start to rot, slowly killing the plant. 
Anyway, pretty horrific for a plant. This story basically expands upon that real life disease but reimagining it in a way that could affect a plant-person thing.
No, Argos was absolutely not invited. He made a copy of Mr. Plant’s key because picking the lock got too tiresome after the twenty-somethingth time.
You see, I never watched Happy Tree Friends, and I only saw one episode of DHMIS. I was watching a secret third horrific thing in middle school, Cyriak videos. And oooweee, it shows sometimes.
I think Argos went to the library a lot before getting obsessed with Mr.Plant not in the nerdy computer geek way but with the same vibes as a kid who goes to the library during lunch to distract them from the fact that they don’t have any friends and as such has basically read every book there.
The Argos chainsaw photoshoot lives in my head and the bastard doesn’t even pay rent.
This was started before the void 1 stuff came out and I was so right, wasn’t I? I predicted void 1 mutated things, I predicted Ghost adding Respite to the setlist, just call me the fanfiction prophet.
(other note: I started this like 6 months ago, I have had time to edit since I was sick lol)
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yeonkimintakecare · 10 months
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Jealousy, Jealousy
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader; Angsty Fluff
Summary: You and Yoongi are going through a rough patch in your relationship while you guys decide to go out with your friends.
Author's Note: This is actually an old posting from an old instagram account I used to post stories from. I just figured I'd post them on here as I'm getting back into writing again. I wrote these like 3 years ago now and I was usually drunk when I did it (it was during the pandemic, so I was always at least tipsy, sorry about it lol.)
Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that my writing is not always great in these but I still like the stories anyways. I hope ya'll like it, I'm working on a longer fic rn, and trying to get my old work posted on my AO3 account as well.
Warnings: Alcohol mentioned, some fighting, drunk rando non-consensual dancing, implied sex (sorry I didn't really write smut back then. Still don't really.)
You release the last curl in your hair before finishing it with hairspray. You normally wouldn’t go through the trouble of doing your hair this well for the club, but with Min Yoongi as your boyfriend, you knew you weren’t going to dance much. You throw on your heels before leaving the room, you see Yoongi sitting on the couch. He looks up from his phone, you give him a twirl, he just looks at you with confusion.
“Why did you do your hair?” He asks with a scrunched up face.
“Is it a crime for me to curl my hair? Will the world end because I used hair spray?” You ask rhetorically, already annoyed that he’s picking a fight. Yoongi just sighed and grabbed the keys. You follow him out the door and into the car. You both sit there, listening to the radio. You want to say something, you really don’t want to be fighting all night, then you really won’t get to have any fun tonight.
“Listen baby.” You say while grabbing his thigh. “I just wanted to dress up for once, and when your first reaction was to ask me why I had dressed up instead of saying something nice, I got upset. I should’ve stayed calm. I’m sorry.”
Then he grunted a hmph in response. You just apologized for something that was barely your fault, and he can’t even give a response that’s more than a noise? You take your hand off of his thigh and cross your arms. You guys begin to park for the club, when you walk out you immediately see your friends, Yeona, and Seokjin. You run up to them, hugging them both.
“Y/N! Are you ready to party?” Yeona yells excitedly. Being around her cheery self immediately brings your mood up. You laugh in response and you guys continue to chat, Yoongi being quiet this whole time.
You guys finally get into the club and when the music hits your ears you can’t help but sway to it, even if you aren’t on the dance floor yet. You guys find a table and you grab Yoongi’s hand, still wanting to reconcile to have an enjoyable night, he holds your hand back rubbing the back of it. This was as much as you were probably going to get out of him, but that was okay, because at least this meant he might dance a little bit and maybe you to could, you know, make up at home later. Seokjin makes it to the table holding drinks, he hands one to you.
“I got you a vodka cranberry!” He yells over the loud music while sliding into the booth next to you. Yeona follows him setting a beer in front of Yoongi and sipping her own drink while she sits next to Seokjin. They would make such a cute couple if only one of them would back up and make the first move.
“Thank you! It’s my favorite!” You yell trying to lean closer to his ear. You feel Yoongi jerk his hand out of yours. You turn to him and he’s drinking his beer and looking away from you.
“Why are you acting like this” you say into his ear.
“Act like what?” He asks with an attitude. You scoff, he knows what he’s doing.
“Whatever I’m going to go dance.” You chug your drink and you, Yeona, and Seokjin decide to go dance. You close your eyes and try to not think about how angry you are. Yeona and Seokjin drift farther away from you, but you don’t really notice, you were too distracted by the music. You came to the club so that you could dance and have fun with your friends and Yoongi was ruining it. You loved him with all of your heart, but moments like this made you want to walk away. You understood he isn’t always great at communication, but it was still frustrating. Your thoughts are interrupted by somebody dancing behind you. When you realize it’s some random guy, you stop dancing to tell him to back off, but you feel a strong hand grab onto your arm. You look up to see Yoongi, he pushes the guy away from you and drags you to the public restroom.
“What the fuck Y/N?” He yells at you while locking the door.
“What do you mean? I was just about to tell him off! I didn’t do anything wrong.” You yell back. You can’t believe this, he really did just want to fight with you tonight. It doesn’t matter if you did something wrong or not, he would find a reason to be mad or blame it on you.
“You were just asking for attention from other guys tonight. Look at your hair and especially that dress.” He continues to scream while gesturing at the red, formfitting dress you were wearing. You feel fire fill your throat and your eyes begin to water.
“What I wear has nothing to do with impressing random men at a club and everything to do with wanting to look pretty to myself, dickhead. Also if there was any guy I wanted to impress it was you, but you’ve been acting like a jerk all night. You could’ve at least given me a compliment when I came downstairs, but no, you just made assumptions about my fucking hair.” You scoff, knowing your eyes have tears in them and doing your best to continue to look cool and also wipe your face. His look softens at the sight of you crying, realizing that he was being a dickhead. Not just for not believing in you, but also for not standing up for you.
“I’m sorry. I just feel like you dressed up because you wanted to impress Seokjin. I got jealous thinking you were trying to impress him.” Yoongi says, you appreciate him finally apologizing for his behavior, but you were still mad. You were mad that he even thought you would cheat on him, he was your whole world. You were also mad that he couldn’t communicate his insecurities to you. But somehow all of this melted away when he grabbed your arms and gave you a hug. You stood there, originally stiff but slowly melting into the hug. He adds “I really am sorry that I don’t always communicate with you, I will work on it.”
You smile, you pull him from you, he looks sad for a second. You lean in and kiss him. You can feel him smiling as he deepens the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. He grabs your bottom and grabs your *CENSORED CENSORED CENSORED*
You walk out of the bathroom, the line of people waiting scowling at the two of you, but you don’t care. The two of you walk back to the booth to see Yeona and Seokjin making out, like really going for it. The two of you decide to order another drink.
While you sip your drink you dance provocatively on Yoongi. Hoping that once you guys get home you can repeat what happened in the bathroom. Yoongi leans in and whispers into your ear “I just want to say you look fantastic. I especially love your hair.” You laugh while turning around to wrap your arms around him again. The two of you continue to dance with your foreheads touching.
I guess your hair did get ruined by the end of the night. Amongst other things.
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polkadotjohnson · 3 months
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Warning - this has about 19k words
So I just finished posting Inamourada and then I was like, wait, protag slashes their arm every other day to give it to him and is fine and he was making all that drama about not wanting to touch silver just because… it would burn a little? So I wrote this.
Tried to fix/address other stuff also that didn't make sense in part 1 because I wrote that in a 3 day frenzy. Don't know if I got all of it… I've been trying to post this for like a week, but everytime I try I find something new to fix, to add, to delete, and this is the last time or it will live in my Drive forever along with many, many others. If you do find something that doesn't make sense tell me so I can cry try to fix it or something thank you for your services
There's... smut? Kinda? Can't really write detailed stuff when I can't even decide protag's gender fml and I wouldn't really feel comfortable posting explicit stuff here even though my ao3 is pure filth Speaking of ao3, this would probably be rated 'M' there.
🦈 guess I'm jumping all kinds of sharks 🦈 with...
Your Best Nightmare, a sequel to Inamourada
1
"So... When are you going to bite me for real?" You don't take your eyes off the road, but can still see him squirming beside you.
Even with the small orange plant now in the backseat, he's still visibly uncomfortable in your tiny old car. He's too tall, his legs are too long, and you know he's more of a perching than sitting kind of guy. "I'm not sure what you mean. I bit you just the other night."
This time you quickly glance at him so you can scoff while looking directly at him. "It didn't even break the skin!" Although you really, really enjoyed it. You thought that would be it, that he was finally granting your wish, but it seems his words were more real than you imagined. He really was just toying with you.
Drinking his blood did heal you, but it didn't change you. And his emergency self-surgery left a nasty scar on his neck, which you were quick to clean and bandage. The piercing burned his fingers too, but he didn't even let you look at them. You tossed all your silver accessories away.
"Just... wait a little longer."
You want to ask, for what? But annoying him doesn't seem the way to get things to happen.
You glance at your watch. "An hour and a half til dawn. Wanna stop at the next town and search for a place to crash?"
"Yes." He sounds so relieved that you smile. "You are going to ditch this shoe box and find a bigger one."
You raise an eyebrow. "Oh, so you've brought your limitless vampirican express card then? Because I do have my savings, but it's hardly enough to just drop it on a new car, especially when this one still does the job. Or you're suggesting we joyride?" You shrug. "Cause I'd probably be on board."
He sighs as if completely exhausted of you. "You have so much to learn."
*
You're digging through your bag, trying to find your wallet, when the clerk starts to greet you. "Good evening, what can I-" You raise your head to see what interrupted him, and Vincent is standing beside you looking at him with almost feral intensity. You still have a moment to see the man's eyes turning glazed and unfocused before he turns and takes a key, leaving it on the counter. You grab it with a gleam of fascination in your eyes. "That is so neat! I mean, it's not the Ritz but still… wow."
"Which room?"
"Uh, fourteen." He leaves quickly and you follow, wondering what's the rush. Does he need to use the bathroom?
…Does he-
Well, you don't really want to go there right now.
"Lemme open it." The moment you take a step into the room, he's on you. His hands cradling your head and his entire weight causing you to take several steps back until you're right by the bed. "Woah, take it easy, stud! I… I'm…" Your heart is hammering in your chest, because you can't even pretend that you don't want this. That you don't want him. But you never thought he'd move this fast. You just kissed a couple of days ago. And you're still not even sure if it meant anything or just a pity goodbye, since you were dying and all. "At least let me take a shower first, and…" He's a dead weight on you. "Vincent?"
"...Bed." His voice is a little more than a whisper, but not in a seductive way. More in a 'I think I'm dying again' way.
"Oh, shit. What happened?" You try to get out of his way so he won't fall on you and push him as high up on the bed as you can.
"...Tired. Let me sleep."
You eye him suspiciously. "Are you sure that's all it is?"
"Hm."
"Do you want some blood?" You make to grab your new (steel) dagger. No response. "Vincent?" He's fast asleep, his chest rising and lowering slowly. His face is paler than usual and his forehead is cold, despite the droplets of sweat that just started forming there. This can't be good.
Careful not to wake him up, you lift the bandage on his neck and flinch. You have no idea how you couldn't smell it before. The wound is festering, pus leaks from it freely now that it's uncovered. You quickly grab your first aid kit and try to clean it as best as you can. It continues leaking until you cover it with a fresh bandage.
It takes you six tries to light up your cigarette with how much you're trembling, and you don't even realize you've lit up a second one until you finish it and see two butts in the ashtray.
What are you going to do? This is all your fault. Titanium, steel, gold, aluminum, brass, bronze, copper, plastic, bone. Why did you have to be wearing silver piercings? Why did you have to try and do something you knew you weren't going to be able to?
Why did he have to help you? He should have just left you there. Isn't he supposed to be a monster?
You grab your blade and make a small cut next to other scars and stand next to him. "Please." Please have some. I'm sure it'll make you better." You let it drip into his parted lips just like you did that night that now seems like so long ago. The blood runs down the side of his mouth and dies in a red dot on the bed. "Fuck! What do I do?"
"...Be quiet and go to sleep…" His tongue does peek out to lick at the blood you tried to feed him.
Making sure the blinds and windows are well closed, you take off your shoes to do just that, but not before removing his first.
(You were wondering if his feet were clawed too. They aren't.)
His face is still cold to your touch, and you throw a blanket over him before you turn out the lights and lie down beside him.
*
The bed looks like a crime scene. Besides the blood you've spilled over him, you completely forgot to dress your wound, and apparently you tossed and turned all night, spreading red everywhere. You were so scared to fall asleep only to wake up with him dead by your side that the stress ironically made you so tired that you blacked out.
He's still breathing slowly. If it weren't for his flaxen complexion, you'd think everything was okay.
Your watch tells you it's 3:15 p.m., and your stomach complains about being neglected. "I doubt this place has room service," you say with a weak laugh as you get up. "Try not to die while I'm away, okay asshole?" He doesn't stir, and you open the door just a little, hanging a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the doorknob.
After raiding the vending machines, you grab your laptop from your car, searching through your spell books, which you took the trouble to digitalize. But they're all mainly about necromancy, there's nothing about silver poisoning. The internet isn't helpful either. To the world, things like vampires and necromancers are nothing but fiction. You're lucky your grandma left you those books. Reading about the various different resurrection spells, you found there was a specific one for vampires, which is when you found out the possibility they could actually be real, and that's when your whole obsession to find and become one started. You knew the books were serious when your cat was run over and you tried a spell on him. He lived to be 28, which is highly uncommon for a cat.
And no matter how many books you read, one law was always the same: no creature can be revived twice. You still tried with your cat a second time, but nothing happened. At least you got to spend a long time together, and you were thankful for that.
But this has nothing to do with your current predicament, and you need to figure out what to do. He was fine the past few days, why did he suddenly collapse like that? Was it after he used his powers on the clerk? That had to be it. "I could have paid for the room, you didn't have to show off."
You return to the room and sit beside him, leaning against the headboard. He rustles under the covers and your heart hurts a little looking at his pained expression. "You really don't know what I should do? How do you get better?"
He takes a deep breath, but doesn't open his eyes. "...I'm trying to sleep it off."
You groan. "Dude, it's not a hangover! Your neck is fucking rotting!" 
"You're being dramatic."
"No, I'm really not! You have to know what to do! Last time you were dying you didn't say anything, so I had to figure it out on my own. Don't be like that again." He doesn't say anything to that, and you sigh. "I could try to stitch it…"
"Wouldn't work."
"Why?"
"...It just wouldn't."
With the way the wound is necrosing, he's probably right. There's something you've been meaning to ask him ever since that day but kept forgetting. "Why didn't you cut yourself with your claws?"
"I… can't hurt myself with them, only others."
"Oh. It's probably for the best though, I mean what kinda mishaps you could have in the toil- uh, I mean…" You look at your watch. "Oh, look, it's uh, 4:08 y'know, dessert time. Be right back." You're off the bed and out the door before he can even open his mouth. You think even your hair is burning. Why don't you think before you speak?
You don't really want dessert, and besides, you left your wallet behind. So you just sit on the floor beside the door with your head down, wishing a hole would magically appear and drag you to hell.
"...Come back."
"Shit! How did you know I was still here? You're not using your powers again, are you? Because I'm pretty sure that's what got you like that."
"I can see your shadow."
"Oh." Betrayed by your own shadow.
Closing the door behind you, you lie on your side so you can face him. You try to tell yourself he's looking slightly better, hoping it's not just wishful thinking. "Does it hurt?"
The smallest movement of his shoulders. "Less than being staked through the heart."
You wince. "There has to be something we can do. Someone that can help us."
For the longest time he doesn't say anything, and you think he's fallen asleep again. Then he raises a hand. "Give me a map." You immediately bring up one on your phone. He points to a name, probably a small town. Doesn't seem to be far away from where you are right now. "I know someone here."
"...You have friends?"
He chuckles silently. "Something like that. Although I doubt any of them were ever stupid enough to get silver in their bloodstream."
"Well, let's go then!" You start to get up but he holds your arm.
"Show me."
For the shortest moment you have no idea what he's talking about. Then you fish the silver pendant from under your clothes so he can see it. An owl sitting on a crescent moon. You fell in love with it instantly.
It was in a jewelry box he handed you a few hours after you were on the road. It belonged to his mother, and you wondered how his life would have turned out if she had been wearing it the night the vampire who turned him showed up.
"Can you walk?"
He pulls you with enough force that you fall back on the bed. "Wait until the sun sets."
"Oh, right. That probably would be for the best."
2
"Are they cemetery ghouls like you?"
He's reclined the seat as far as it would go, but it still looks uncomfortable. "You mean like us. Don't worry. They'll know when I'm nearby, and they'll make themselves known."
Before leaving, you offered him your arm again and he took it, drinking enough to regain some of his strength. And his wound looked... only slightly worse.
"Who-"
"Let me rest."
"Ugh, fine." It's probably for the best anyway. The radio is low, and you sing along, quiet enough that you don't think you're bothering him.
"You have a nice voice."
Your hands clutch the steering wheel tight, unsure if you heard him right. Because other than the taste of your blood, this is the first time he's ever complimented you. You look at him to make sure you didn't imagine it, but his eyes are closed, arms crossed and breathing slow. "Watch the road."
"Shit! How-"
"Listen. They can't know I'm… unwell. If they do, they might do something." He pulls up on the collar of the overcoat he put on before you left, making sure it's covering the wound.
"They might do something? What kind of friends are those?"
"I never said they were my friends."
"Alright, alright, whatever. But then… how are we going to ask them for information about silver?"
"I guess we'll just have to… work it into conversation."
"Great." You drive in silence for a while longer. But there is something you just have to ask. "So… what if I asked for one of them to bite me?"
He yawns. "You wouldn't. You want me."
It hits all at once: face burning, cold, freezing butterflies in your stomach, anger, resignation. You barely pay attention to his explanations that not everyone has the ability to turn others anyway, certainly not them. "You're so full of yourself."
"Am I wrong?"
You rather not give him the satisfaction. Instead, you go back to the song on the radio, raising the volume a little. But you have to lower it again, because you don't think you've heard him right. "What's that?"
"I said you're under my spell right now. I could make you do whatever I wanted."
"Are you… is your fever back? Are you delirious right now?"
"Hit the brakes."
Your head feels fuzzy all of a sudden, and you obey him before he even finishes speaking. It makes you speechless, like you have so much to say you don't even know where to begin. "You… you idiot! You're gonna get worse again! Why… what…"
He sits up and holds your face with both hands. "This doesn't affect me like that. But thank you for your concern." He leans towards you, gaze going from your eyes to your mouth, but you can't stand to look at him right now, instead lying your head on his chest and trying to pull him closer.
"Is it because I drank your blood? He hums in affirmation. "So? What would you have me do, then?"
"...That is your instinct? I say I can control everything you do and you get closer to me?"
"I've never had much self-preservation, what do you want me to say?" Besides, he's said so himself. Why waste energy when you're so willing?
"You should definitely never get near Sebastian." He pulls away from you and lies back down, and you resume driving after a moment.
Nothing he says or does makes much sense to you. Why did he even tell you if he wasn't going to make you do anything?
You suppose he's just a hedonist, doing what he wants, whenever he feels like it without thinking too much about it. 
…Not that you're all that different if you're being honest "We're almost there."
"Hm." You can hear a tinge of grumpiness in his voice that makes you giddy, but you try not to let it show in your face.
You want him to kiss you all the time. You want him to kiss you until your lips fall off. But to know that he might feel the same even if just a little makes you almost happier than if you had let him.
You park the car next to a sign that indicates the name of the town. "I think this is it. What do-" A sudden bump on the roof of the car interrupts you, and he sits up quickly.
"Remember, whatever you do, don't-"
"Hey, Vincent, so it's really you!" Someone's upside down face appears out his window. A woman, you can't tell much about her other than she's obviously a vampire too, the pale face and red eyes giving it away almost immediately. "Long, long time no see. What brings you back to my humble abode?"
He smiles pleasantly. "Grace. Still as much energy as the last time we saw each other, I see."
"Oh, you mean when you left me for dead and ran away with your next conquest? Yeah, good times. He's here too, by the way. Said you got tired of him even faster than you did me." She plops down to the ground, and someone opens the door on your side, pulling you out of the car before you have a chance to protest.
"What's that, are you bringing us fresh meals now?" The vampire starts to examine you, his eyes going straight to the pendant you're wearing, but Vincent pulls you away from his grip, snaking an arm around you.
"Sorry, not for you." Despite his condition, you feel safe enough now that you allow yourself to check them out. They're both so unnecessarily attractive that it makes you feel inadequate. The woman, Grace, has a doll face, black hair with a white strand that makes her look like a Hollywood starlet. You still don't know the man's name, but despite him having a more generic beauty, it is the kind that makes you think of superhero movies. "I seem to remember having taught you well how to get any prey you so desired, Paul. So eyes off what's mine."
His words shouldn't floor you like they do, you know it's mostly for show. And looking at them does make you wonder what he's doing hanging around with you when apparently those are his standards.
Then again, you are his willing food source.
Grace checks you out, much like you did with her, and turns to the man. "Have I told you Paul, how many times he told me I was perfect? I bet it was the same with you."
"Nnnope." Paul crosses his arms with a smirk, still eyeing your pendant. "We weren't much for talking, anyway." He winks and clicks his tongue, and Grace slaps his arm.
"What can I say." His voice is right in your ear, making you shiver. "The heart is fickle."
Grace moves a hand to touch you, but pulls back after looking at him. You can only imagine what kind of face he's making. "Feel free to come find us when he's done with you. Vincent's rejects club. Although if he still hasn't turned you by then, I can't guarantee how long you'll last." She frowns. "Why hasn't he turned you yet?"
"You know, I was wondering the same thing." Her words don't really affect you, probably because you're still somewhat in shock that, of all the things you could have possibly found out about him, the fact that he's apparently a player wasn't one of them. It shouldn't have surprised you, really. You did see him go from the blonde cougar to the girl in a matter of days. "I've been asking him for months now, and nothing." His arm tightens around you, but he doesn't say anything.
"Months?" Grace raises a hand to her mouth. "Have you... have you actually settled down, Vincent?" You notice Paul isn't around anymore. You also notice you have no idea where you are. There's just an empty field and a barn. The third thing you notice is that you missed his response, and you curse under your breath.
A black cat jumps on the hood of the car, and you try to go to it, but his grip around your waist stops you.
"Brought Tony." Paul rests an arm around Grace's shoulder and she holds his hand. The cat looks at you, and his eyes have a red glow to them.
"Wait. Them, I can understand." You manage to turn around a little so you can see his face. "But are you gonna tell me you've bitten a cat? Why… how… you know what, I don't even know what question to focus on…" You call to the cat, and he approaches you, rubbing his head on your hand. "You poor thing. Damn, how hungry were you?" Vincent just smiles enigmatically at you.
It's the first time in your life that you're jealous of a cat.
"Oh, cut it out, Tony." Grace playfully slaps the cat's hind, and he hisses at her, then goes back to rubbing himself on you.
"You're such a handsome boy." You try to pick him up, but Vincent shoos him away. You turn again to chide him.
"Aw, thanks."
You freeze, finger halfway to Vincent's face. That's not Paul's voice. So who…
When you look at where the cat was, the only one there is a young Asian man with a sweet smile. He's cute. And naked. "Okay, what the fuck?"
Paul hands him some clothes he'd been holding, and the guy just starts dressing up like it's nothing.
Vincent smirks. "Tony. Was it everything you've ever wanted?"
"Oh man, I love it! Okay, like, I lost my job at Wendy's because they only had day shifts, but it doesn't matter. I'm having so much fun, you have no idea. Speaking of which, let's spar, I want my sire to see how much I've improved." He's already getting onto a fighting stance.
Vincent's smile tightens. "...I'm weary from the trip, maybe later. I'll trust your word."
"Really? Aw, man. Okay, okay. Oh and by the way, I'm loving this reunion thing, but it's gonna start raining in about two minutes, so we should get inside."
Grace and Paul start walking towards the shed. "Good idea. Then maybe you can tell us why is it that you're alive, Vincent, hate of my life. Or are you a zombie vampire now?"
Oh, right. They felt him die too, just like Sebastian. 
"It was just a… misunderstanding, that's all." He starts following them, but you stop him.
"Should I park the car closer? What if-"
"Just leave it. Nobody will want that piece of junk anyway. It doesn't even start without you having to sacrifice a small child to it."
"Oh, that's a little too much, don't you think? I just have to… talk to her gently. Give her a little encouragement, that's all."
"It's okay, honey." Grace turns to look at you. "I promise you no one's gonna touch it."
You can't argue with her conviction, so you follow them. She opens the door, and just a few steps in, you can't believe your eyes. The barn looks like something out of a catalogue. It was modified into a cozy, spacious house, every room separated by different kinds of partitions and an actual walled part, which you imagine are bedrooms and bathroom. "Wow, this is incredible! I thought every vampire lived in squalor like you." You turn around, but Vincent's still outside, the first droplets of rain already starting to fall. "Uh, are you planning on showering in the rain?"
He smiles condescendingly at you. "I can't come in. Which is strange, since I've been here before."
"Oh, I almost forgot." Grace watches him with, well, with a graceful smile. "I put up all kinds of protection spells so no one would find this place, and I think your credentials have been revoked. Oops." She doesn't invite him.
He glares at you. "Come out. Now." His usually calm and tranquil voice now completely stripped of every emotion but rage. Your head starts feeling fuzzy again, like it did in the car. The desire to do what he says is bigger than anything else. As you take a step towards him, Grace holds your arm.
"Don't be mean, Vincent. You don't want your dear friend to catch a cold, do you?"
Not being able to do what he ordered makes you feel like you're being torn in half, but Grace's grip on your arm is unrelenting.
His face as he looks at her holds the same ferocity he used on the hotel clerk, and you want to tell him not to do it, but your head is too hazy. You see her eyes start to glaze as both sides release you, his in your mind and her hand on your arm.
"Vincent, stop it. You can come in." For the first time in the night, Paul's voice is serious. He pulls Grace into his arms just as Vincent all but stumbles into yours. Despite being wet from the rain, from his expression you can tell he's already sweating.
"Why did you do that? You know I have this." You show him the pendant and quickly tuck it into your clothes so it won't touch him and pull him to a nearby couch.
"Still… too risky…"
"Why did you even give it to me, then?" You desperately need a cigarette, but despite seeing an ashtray on the coffee table, you're not going to smoke inside before they tell you it's okay, and going back outside is out of the question. You look around, hoping they won't try anything, but Paul seems to be making sure Grace is okay, and you have no idea where Tony is. "Do you wanna drink some before you rest?"
"No!" He opens his eyes, and almost looks like he wants to use his powers again, so you make sure to send him back the same exact kind of glare. "Not now."
"Calm down, I get it! I'm not gonna cut myself in a house full of vampires. Not even I am that dumb. I was gonna ask if maybe they had some to spare." You try to get up, but he holds on to you with whatever strength he had left.
"Stay… stay."
"Great." You smile unamused. "As if I didn't feel like your pet enough already." There's barely any space left to sit down since he occupies the entire couch, so you push him to the side a little so you can sit down and put his head on your lap.
"Aw, that's adorable."
"Grace… you…" You feel his shoulders tense like he wants to get up, so you hold him in place.
"It was a joke, Vincent. You used to have a sense of humor." She hands you a towel, and you immediately start drying his face and scrubbing his hair. Luckily his clothes didn't really get wet, just a little damp. "And what happened to you? Why are you like this? Does it have to do with that misunderstanding you mentioned?"
"...Bit rough… for a joke." He points at you with his thumb, but you have no idea what he means. "Arm."
"What? Oh." Only now do you see the clear handprint on your arm. Grace's nails aren't long enough to be claws like his, but they left an indent too. "It's okay, it doesn't hurt or anything."
"Says the… m-maso-"
"Shhhh, go to sleep!" He can barely speak and he mocks you. You laugh nervously. "You big baby! Tomorrow you'll be brand new." You're still laughing, but you know by Grace's raised eyebrow that she has made you. "Um, any… anyway, after some… things that happened, he gets a little bit tired every now and then. We're looking into it. But I'd really prefer if you could wait for him to wake up so he'll tell you all about it, I'm not very good with explanations." You hope you were vague enough not to give anything away, because you have no idea what he's going to tell them. "Can I smoke in here?"
"Sure." You fish the pack from your pocket and she hands you the ashtray. "Some human pleasures never leave us." She lights it for you with her own lighter. "Sorry about your arm."
"It's okay, really. I'm used to doing worse."
"...So you're just feeding this parasite out of your own free will? What do you get out of it?"
"I, um… well…" You weren't lying when you said you weren't good with explanations.
"It's alright, I get it. Your face says it all. He… are you asleep, Vincent?" No response. His breathing deep and slow. "He's terrible, and it took me a long time to forgive him. Him and Paul, of course. But I get it." Her tone gets a little jaded, but not fully. "When you're young and in love, it's like they've hung the moon and the stars."
You choke a little on the smoke. "In love? With him? Me? Ah, no, no, no, I, I just follow him around because I want him to bite me, that's all! I'm not in-" She looks at your hand, which has been ruffling his hair in the gentlest manner and you hadn't even noticed, and you freeze. "I was just… his hair is gonna look ridiculous when it dries and we're gonna make fun of him. Yeah." He turns in his sleep, pressing his face against your stomach and grabbing your shirt. Your heart goes ballistic, and you wheeze a little.
"You're swooning."
"I'm… sighing. He's too heavy and my legs are falling asleep."
Grace's smile tells you she didn't buy any of it. "My mistake, then. And besides, there's no point in holding grudges when you're eternal. Supposedly. Y'know, other than the own perils we go through being the way we are."
"Do you like it? Being a vampire?" You're so glad for the opportunity to change the subject.
"I hated it at first. Couldn't go to the beach, I miss the beach. Couldn't eat my favorite meals. Couldn't see my family anymore." She raises her eyebrows at you.
"I'm sorry. But me, I'm… there's no one anymore. I don't have anyone who will miss me."
She smiles. "Not a very smart thing to say in a house full of bloodthirsty monsters."
"I've known monsters. You're not one."
It takes her a moment to continue. "Are you sure? The whole blood thing was so difficult to get used to. And learning how to stop before you kill someone. I can't tell you there haven't been casualties." Her words do nothing to change your opinion. But you do wonder if you're the only one here who's never killed anyone. Has the cat guy…? "But now, honestly, I revel in it. There's so much freedom to do whatever you want. Go wherever you want. Well, other than consecrated ground, of course. Which did make some of my life harder, since some of my spells do use holy water."
"Spells, oh, like you mentioned you did with the house? So you're a…"
"A vampire witch." Her voice is full of pride.
"Cool!" You almost ask her if she knows anything about silver, but it would probably give too much away. And you want to tell her about your own little dabbles in magic, but feel it's better not to. At least not until you're sure you can trust her. "So you could have put a hex on him!"
"Who says I didn't? Probably left him with a bad indigestion at least for a few weeks."
"How long… uh, how long have you and Paul been together?"
She lights a cigarette. "Do you mean how long since this trash dumped me for him, then kicked him out too, and I was the bigger person and decided to give him a chance? Oh, about ten years and five months, give or take."
"Ten… ten years? Holy shit, then he must have left a trail of broken hearts all over the world!" You thought this was a recent situation, but it's clear this playboy has been playing for a long time. 
"You're lucky vampires can't impregnate or get pregnant, or he would have left a trail of bastards too."
You can feel your face burning, so you look away, hoping for anything that will allow you to change the subject again. Tony saves you by sitting down beside Grace, holding a bag with a straw.
"Capri Sun?" He offers the bag, then laughs dismissively. "Nah, just kidding, it's blood."
"That's right, you! You can… you can change! Can you all change?"
"Nah, I'm special." He slurps noisily on his plasma juice.
"Tony's the only one I know that has that ability. And it's not just a cat he can turn into, you know."
"Babe, come to bed, I'm cold." Paul does look like the kind of guy who would call his partner 'babe'.
"And with that, I'm off." Grace stands up, patting Tony on the shoulder. "But not before this. Raise your legs." You do so, and she crouches in front of the couch, raises it with one hand a little while messing with something outside your field of vision. The couch shakes a little and stretches. It's a pull-out. She waves and leaves.
You stretch your legs a little, trying to get Vincent to move too, but it's like moving a rock. Tony's watching you with a smirk, which you return to him. "So, you're from the heartbreak club too?"
He laughs. "Me? Oh, no, no. Me and Paul used to work together and one day he introduced us, and I just thought it'd be pretty cool to be a vampire. So I asked and he bit me."
"You… and how long it took him?"
"Hmm I think it took a while. I had to pester him all night until he did it."
You can't believe your ears. "Night? It took you one night? You just… asked and he did it?"
"Yeah. Why?"
You feel like punching something. "No reason." Just as you're about to ask him about his ability, he stands up abruptly.
"Um… you know what, I think I'm gonna finish this in bed." He leaves quickly, not giving you a chance to get a word in. Did Vincent do something?
"Listen, mister. If you're using your powers again, I'm dragging your casanova ass back to the rain."
"Hmm…" He releases your shirt and stretches beside you.
"Are you really asleep?" No response. So you sigh and reach for the lamp on the coffee table, clicking it off.
Even in this state, the couch is still smaller than the hotel bed, so you're much closer now. Even in the faint light coming from elsewhere in the house, you swear you can see freckles on his nose and trace them with a finger, then his sinfully beautiful lips.
You're not in love. You want him, sure. For a long time now, and this desire grows with every passing day. 
But it's going to break you when he leaves you like he did with the others. Whether you got him to bite you or not, you know you won't be strong enough.
So you tell your heart to shut the hell up because you're not in love.
*
The tinted windows don't let any light pass through them, but you can tell it's morning from the birds. You yawn and stretch, and then something else makes you startlingly aware that it is, indeed, morning. Right against your hips.
Any trace of sleep has left your system. Someone threw a blanket over you two while you slept, and you push it away, too hot for it now.
"Hmm…" He pulls you towards him, and in a second, you're in full contact with him. Then he starts to move.
"He… hey…" As much as your entire body is burning for him, you don't want to let him do something like this in his sleep.
"Yes?" Oh, he's awake. So it's fine then.
"I, uh, see that you're feeling better."
He hums, hand in your hair to pull you to his lips, and it's so much better than the last time. The time you were dying. Now you have the wherewithal to give just as much as you're getting, sucking his breath into your lungs and biting his lips whenever there's a break in the kiss.
Your hand moves without your permission, popping a button, then his fly.
"Wait." He holds your wrist, and your face burns even hotter than before.
You pull your hand from him in a flash. "I'm so sorry! I-"
He kisses your chin. "Wait. Let me drink. They're well fed, they won't mind even if they wake up."
"I… the knife's in my boot." He shakes his head.
"Do you trust me?"
The rational part of your brain tells you you should say no. But your instinct says otherwise. "Yeah."
"Take it off."
"Wha…?"
"The pendant."
You do so quickly, pulling it over your head and storing it safely in your pocket. Either it's bright enough out now or your eyes have grown used to the dark, because you can make out his outline as he raises his claws to your neck, scratching it softly. You feel anything but fear, turning your head to give him more access. You can feel your skin tearing and you sigh wholeheartedly.
Then his mouth is on you, lapping and sucking languidly, as if he were giving you a hickey. Also known as a love bite. You'd laugh if you weren't so stirred up. 
Your head is in a warm, comforting haze; it feels so good to have his mouth there, where you wanted it for so long. Even if it isn't exactly how you wanted it. He takes your hand in his, guiding it, silently asking you to continue from where he interrupted you. You palm him through his pants first, and he sucks a little harder. Your hand goes inside, touching him in earnest, and he stops to sigh against your neck for a moment before continuing. Then his hands are moving, all over you as if he knew exactly how to touch you, every spot that makes you go insane. Your unoccupied hand finds his hair, and you pull a little so he'll look at you.
You can see your blood on his lips, and you bring him down to you, tasting yourself. Bitter, salty, sweet, all blending together, and when your hand speeds up, you swallow his moans too.
When you open your eyes, he's holding your knife to his arm. "Just a couple of drops, or you'll never manage to escape me."
With your breathing still normalizing, your mouth has a hard time catching up with your brain. "I really don't think I want to." You freeze, feeling like you've said too much, wanting to take it back.
"Well, you have to. It's not just your neck." To your luck, he misunderstood you. He clicks the lamp on the coffee table and you see the scratches he's left all over you. "I know you like it, but I imagine you wouldn't want to give them a show."
And while you're sure you'll be wearing on your face how you spent your morning, you really don't want to make it too obvious. So you accept his blood.
It's ironic really, how while all your wounds are closing up, his seems to be the same. "Shit. I'll go grab the first aid, I need to redress the one on your neck too."
Even though the bedrooms seem to all be in the back, you open the door just a little, feeling like a single ray of light getting in would taint their home. It's still pretty cloudy, but you wouldn't want to risk it. You take the first aid kit, a change of clothes for you both and at the last minute, his orange sapling.
When you return, he's under the covers again, and after quickly washing up and changing, you sit beside him to dress his wounds. You try to keep your composure while you clean his neck, but he can tell what you're thinking without even looking at you. "That bad?"
"We need to talk to them today. Even if we have to tell them everything."
"Go find something to eat. They won't wake up before late noon."
"Okay. Get some rest too. Oh, I was thinking." You show him the pot. "If they're okay with it, we could plant it here. It's not going to survive long staying in the car so much. Then if we… if we find some other place, we can take it there. I mean, if you want to."
He smiles, sweeter than you've ever seen. "Sure. We'll do it tonight."
You stand up to leave, but stop suddenly worried. "And Grace… are you sure she…"
"If she hasn't killed me by now, she won't."
You're still a little uneasy, but he does know her better than you. "Alright, be back soon. Here." You leave his clothes on the sofa and he nods. When you're at the door, he calls you back.
"There is something I forgot." The seriousness of his voice makes you worried all over again. "Come here." You stand beside him, but he shakes his head. "Closer."
"What? What is it?" You sit down next to him, hoping he won't tell you he just remembered silver infections only last a few days and then the afflicted dies or something like that.
But he just lays a hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. "This." He smiles. "You can go now."
That's… that's not fair at all. You're out of your element. You're fighting a losing match. How can you lie to yourself when he gets you so worked up with such a simple gesture, with a chaste kiss. "You're… you're infuriating." Face on fire, you stumble on your own feet before you leave.
*
The town is small and quiet, but there's a diner that catches your attention because of the tall booths you can see from outside. It's been ages since you'd stop caring about what other people think of you, but you don't know this place, so it's better not to draw too much attention.
Half the patrons inside eye you up and down as you enter, but return to their meals after a moment. You grab a menu and choose the booth furthest in the back.
The pie is big and hot, and biting into it, you just can't help remembering this morning. His touches, his smell, his taste, his noises… 
You're so not in love with him.
Just as you're deciding what to take for dinner so you won't have to return here, someone sits across from you. A pale man with blonde hair. His eyes a light red, almost orange. Your hand instinctively goes to your neck, and you try not to have a panic attack when you realize the pendant isn't there. You took it off and put it… where? Oh no, is it back at the house? No, it's in your pocket. In the pants you changed this morning. In the trunk of your car.
"I can tell you're not from around here. What's a little thing like you doing in a town like this?"
Thing. You hate being called a thing. But you smile sweetly at him "Just visiting some friends."
"Oh yeah? Wanna make some new friends?"
"I… I don't know, they're waiting for me and I'm supposed to bring them some stuff. For lunch." You start to get up, but he grabs your hand.
"Nah, stay with me. They can wait."
You sit back down, feeling a little drowsy just like last night. But it's different, his persuasion or whatever it is doesn't seem to be nearly as strong as that controlling power Vincent has over you, or his own persuasion. While the people you've seen affected by it seemed to be in a zombie-like state, you remain pretty aware.
"Don't make a scene, no one's gonna care. They know not to mess with me. I want you. And what I want, I get."
You look around and it seems like everyone is making a point to not look in your direction. "Oh wow, that's a little fast, isn't it? We don't even know each other."
"Easy to fix. I'm Noz, and what is your name, little thing?"
You'll stick a fork in your eye before you tell this guy your name. "Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way."
"Awesome name!" From the shit-eating grin on his face, he really seems to like it. "See? Now we know each other, let's go." He stands up, pulling you along, glancing at a man sitting on the next booth. "Pay it for me, will ya?"
What is he going to do, just walk outside in the middle of the day? Will he burst into flames? You hope so. But once out, he seems just fine, and you wonder if it has to do with the weather. The clouds are so heavy you don't even know where the sun is in the sky. "Um, where are we going?"
"I live right around the corner. I'm gonna give you an experience like you've never had."
"We could take my car, I just have to get something in the-"
"No need, it's right over there." He starts pulling you away from where you parked.
You need to find a way to get to your car, but nothing comes to mind. "Um… what kind of experience are we talking about here? 'Cause let me tell ya, I've been through a lot. I could show you pictures on my camera, and-"
He stops suddenly, pushing you against the wall of the diner. "If you're so eager to know, here." He shows you his fangs, running his tongue over them.
They're minuscule compared to Vincent's.
"You're… you're a vampire? Wow! That's awesome! I… I… I've always wanted to meet one! Could you-"
Then he's all over your personal space, sniffing you. You try not to cringe. "You can cut the act, sweetheart. I can smell it all over you. Especially…" He sniffs long and hard around your neck and you close your eyes, holding in a whimper of disgust. "Here. So what's the story, morning glory?"
"I…" Thinking on your feet, you cover your face with both hands, pretending to cry. "He's holding my son hostage! And keeping me as his personal supply of food! Look!" You show him your arm, littered with scars. "I can't take it anymore, and I don't know what to do! I'm sorry I lied to you, but if he finds out I talked to another vampire, he's going to kill you. He's too powerful."
"Oh, I doubt he's got anything on me, baby. I've been like this for years. Experience counts in matters like these." Years, not decades. Okay.
"Really? Because he said he turned about two months ago. So you're probably right, you must be much more powerful than him. Maybe… no, I couldn't ask."
"I'll destroy him with one hand."
"You promise?"
"Yup."
You brace yourself for the sell. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" You wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. Now you're going to have to shower again. "Can you turn me too? I've always wanted to be like you."
"Well, I don't think you can be like me, but yeah, yeah sure. I'll turn you." You can tell from the way he speaks he doesn't really have the power to do so.
"Great! I'll take you to him." And just in case he doesn't buy it, you add in the most seductive voice you can muster: "And then we can have all kinds of experiences afterwards."
"Hmm yeah, baby. It's your lucky day, you better show your appreciation." 
As you turn to thankfully go back to your car, he slaps you, and you take a deep, deep breath before you turn back and wink at him. "C'mon, tiger." Oh shit, you hope you haven't ruined it.
"Rawr!" Ew, nope, you didn't.
He sits beside you, and while you could take him to the house, you don't know just how capable any of them are in a fight, and they're most likely still asleep. Vincent could definitely take care of him. If he weren't... unwell, as he put it. Besides, you've gone too far now to give up. You turn the key, but the car doesn't start. You try two more times. "Shit, not again. Stay here, I'll get a jumper cable in the back. Do you think someone at the diner will help me?"
"If they don't, I just have to tell them to."
Vincent would only have to look at them.
You get out of the car and close your eyes, silently praying to whatever dark deities might be around. The pendant is peeking from the pocket of your pants, almost falling into the mess that is your trunk, so you quickly grab it before it does.
"What's that you got there?" You scream in surprise at the sudden hand on your shoulder and press the pendant to it. "Ow! What the fuck?" Before he can move, you do it again, wishing you could cut him with it, but it doesn't have any sharp edges. But your knife does. "You fucking freak! You goddamn piece of-" You slash his stomach once, but he dodges it the second time and punches you in the face. You stumble backwards, the knife flying from your hand, and you watch the glinting blade with longing as he gets near.
Glinting?
The sun burns your eyes. It's just as sudden as Vincent said. 'Noz' or whatever his name is, doesn't even have time to scream and he's gone, dust and ashes already scattering in the light breeze.
You were never a big fan of the sun, but today you'd kiss it if you could.
With trembling hands, you put the pendant around your neck again, just about to reach for a cigarette when you notice everyone that was at the diner is now watching you from the sidewalk. "Uh, you guys serve steak?"
*
No one laughed at your attempted joke, but at least you got a couple of free meals out of it.
You turn on the radio but can't remember how the player works. Then you hit the brakes and throw up on the side of the road.
Did you just kill someone? Now… now what? No one seemed to make a fuss, no one called the police. Although it would be hard to convict you without evidence of an actual crime, other than the witnesses. Is that how it went with vampires? No laws, no punishment, no justice? Not that you want to go to jail for that garbage. But… it's the same the other way around, isn't it? They kill too, and no one bats (haha) an eye at it. Well, you highly doubt they're ever mentioned in any law book so that's the only way it can be.
You grab a bottle of water to wash your mouth and start the car again, the right way this time. Even though you're done with adventures for the day, you don't want to get back too soon while everyone is still asleep, so you drive around, trying to find something to do. There's a tiny movie theater, and you buy a ticket for the next session, barely paying attention to what the movie's about and sleep through almost the entire thing. When you leave, the sun's hidden again, and it's considerably darker. Almost 5 p.m., your phone tells you. Time to go back.
Your three new acquaintances are playing cards on a table, while Vincent still rests. "I thought you guys would be playing baseball or something."
Vincent sees your face and is beside you before you take two steps in. "What happened?" He takes your face in his hands, clinically examining the bruises that have already formed around your eye.
"You should see the other guy. Oh no, you can't, because he's pixie dust now. What are you guys playing anyway? Guess I should put some ice in this, huh?" You let him pull you to the couch, and Tony hands you a frozen bloodbag.
"Sorry, it's all we have."
You thank him and hold it against your eye, trying to sum up the events as best as you can while ignoring the tears flowing down your face.
"I know that guy. Well, knew." Paul winks at you. "Real douchebag. You did good." He frowns. "What kind of stupid name is 'Noz' anyway?"
Grace chimes in. "Besides, if you're worried about it, you did not kill him, he did so himself. Any vampire worth their salt wouldn't be scurrying around outside during the day, cloudy weather or not." She raises her eyebrows haughtily. "He was asking for it."
Their words do put you more at ease, but Vincent's face is dark. "I should have. I should have turned you." He shakes his head. "You wouldn't make it."
"...How do you know?"
"Because you're just like him!" Vincent's usually smooth voice now marred with despair. "Haven't I told you? He was weak, and so are you!" He gets up to stand by the window.
"But he did make it! And I think I just proved I'm strong enough, didn't I?" You want to be angry at him, but the fact he doesn't want to do it because he's worried about you allays you a little. Then something dawns on you. "You said… you said you fed him all night. Your blood, right? Which is why he made it." He nods. "So that means… if you bit me now…" You look at the bandage on his arm, then at his face.
"I told them everything."
He's the one who's too weak. If he thinks you'll need him to look after you and feed you his own blood, right now is not exactly the best time to do it. "Did you know? Even before the hotel? You knew there was something wrong, didn't you?"
"I had an inkling, when my neck wouldn't stop broiling."
You follow him to the window, hitting his chest with your fists. You imagine this whole scene must probably look like a soap opera to the others. "You idiot. Why didn't you tell me? Why did you do the thing with the clerk?" You hear Grace whispering, "Ooh, thing with the clerk?"
He wraps his arms around you, and you already know you're going to start crying again any minute now. "I didn't know. I didn't know what would happen."
"If I… if I hadn't almost killed myself, none of this would be happening. This is all my fault!"
"I heard you scream. If it hadn't been for you, we'd both be dead." He wipes your tears with his fingers. "Come on." He brings you back to the couch and hands you the frozen bloodbag. "I could give you more blood to heal this quickly, but I have the feeling you would say no."
You take the bag and press it against your face again. "You're damn right I would say no."
"You could take mine. Or any of ours, I don't think any of us would mind," Grace offers.
Vincent intervenes before you can reply. "That is out of the question. After last night, I don't know if I'm very fond of your… jokes. Best not risk it."
You elbow him. "It's okay, guys, thanks. Not my first black eye. More importantly. Do you know anything? That can help us?"
Grace shakes her head. "We told him already. The only contact any of us had with silver after turning was that I was wearing a silver ring, and it almost burned my finger off. But it healed after I took it off. I'm sorry."
"I gave him a suggestion, but…"
"Paul…" Vincent's voice is low and menacing.
Paul shrugs. "It's all I got."
"What? What is it?" No matter what it is, you have to try.
"Nothing worth trying. At least nothing I would-"
"Please!" You grab his shirt with both hands, your voice filled with desperation. "Please. I'm begging you. Anything is worth it."
"...He suggested I go to Sebastian," he says with an unamused smile. "Apparently, he's been studying all kinds of things about… us. Guess he really wants to be the expert in vampire lore."
You shake your head, not believing what you're hearing. "Then what are we still doing here? Let's go!"
He backs away from your hands, still strangely leering at you. "Do you seriously want so bad to be turned that you'd ask me to subject myself to him?"
It's like the world vanishes around you and a black hole starts forming in your chest. You can faintly hear Grace yelling at him, but can't make out her words, can't make out anything. "I'm… going for a walk. Thanks for the ice, Tony." You drop the bag on the couch and leave, ignoring everyone.
No amount of cigarettes can make you stop shaking, so you drive to a nearby convenience store and buy a fifth of whiskey, something you haven't abused in years. But you don't care. You just want to black out. You can't think. Don't think. Don't think, just drink.
*
"Ugh. Wha…?" There's a crowd of people hitting your head with tiny hammers. Over and over. You can't see them, but you can feel them there. And apparently they made you drink out of a toilet, because that's what your mouth tastes like. Why is it dark? Is it still night? You can't see anything out the windshield. But you can smell smoke and vomit. "Bleh, I need a toothbrush."
"And a bath."
You scream, searching for your knife. Vincent turns on the dome light, and you point the knife at him. "What are you doing here? Where am I?"
"Crashed against a tree. I found you last night. You've been gone for two days." Your watch confirms he's telling the truth about the date.
It also tells you it's half past noon. And judging by the heat, pretty sunny outside.
All the window covers and blinds you haven't had the need to use before are in place, and the one on your side is dangerously flapping thanks to a small opening on the window, which he probably did so you wouldn't suffocate. Or because of the smell. You close it quickly and fix the cover back in place.
"I'm grateful you still care for my life."
"Vincent…" You sigh. "Is there any water in the back?"
He shakes his head. "I looked for it to see if I could clean you up."
You look down at yourself and almost throw up again. "Oh, gross." You unceremoniously strip as carefully as you can, staying in your underwear, and ball the soiled clothes, pushing them as far in the back as you can. "Since when… you said you found me last night?"
"Earlier today just before dawn, to be exact. I'd have taken you back but we're too far away, there wouldn't have been time."
"Where are we?"
He shrugs. "Somewhat far into the woods. You swerved off the road and came rolling down the hill for a good while before this big, beautiful oak tree interrupted you."
"Does it look bad?"
"Your shoe box is done for." The above light goes out as he says it, as if signaling the fate of the car, and you remain in the dark. 
"Great." Now that you're properly awake, you notice it isn't actually that dark, you can see his shape quite well as he stares ahead.
The silence isn't uncomfortable, just irritating. Isn't he going to say anything? Does he still stand by that bullshit he spewed last… two nights ago? Are you the one who's going to have to bring it up?
"So…"
"We're going. To see Sebastian. If we don't die of sunstroke first."
You take a deep breath. "That was not why I said it and you know it."
For a few minutes, he doesn't say anything, and if you're not going to discuss it, you might as well try to fall asleep again.
"Do you love me?" Well, that plan is out the window now.
"Wha-what? You… you… you don't just ask people that!"
"Why not? I love you."
To say this is not exactly the type of situation you thought you'd be in if you ever got to hear him saying that is an understatement. Your jaw starts tingling when you try to speak, probably because you've been taking so many deep breaths, you think you're hyperventilating. After a moment, you try again. "You'll have to forgive me if I say I don't believe you."
He's still looking straight ahead, but you can see he's frowning. "Why? Because I've had other lovers? Haven't you?"
"Well, yeah, but… you seem to get tired of them pretty quickly." What did he say? The heart is fickle?
"So… how long is love supposed to last?"
You can't believe him. "Forever, Vincent. Love is supposed to last forever." He seems so childish at first, but then you remember who was it that taught him about love. And how big of a lie it was. "Listen, can we talk about this later? My throat is dry and my head is killing me." When he doesn't answer, you get a little annoyed. "Hey."
He doesn't just look at you. His eyes devour you from head to toe and he's breathing hard, panting. And you can only imagine the state you're in. Without even mentioning the smell, your hair is probably a nightmare, your makeup making you look like a mime from hell. And don't forget the black eye. But he looks at you as if you were a centerfold.
"...Can I have your shirt?" He unbuttons it and gives it to you without a word. He's so tall that it goes to your knees. His naked torso does put you in some state also, but nothing like he was. Still is, judging by what you can clearly see under his pants.
Even if he doesn't love you, his desire seems to be big enough to confuse his head. You're not sure you can sleep after such a revelation.
When you wake up, you're not in the car anymore, and you're… bouncing? "Um… hi?"
"Good evening." He's carrying you bridal style, and you can only imagine the scene. You, only in an oversized shirt and shoes in the arms of a pale, shirtless man.
"You can put me down."
"Alright. You smell, and you're heavier than you look."
You snort loud, once again in total disbelief of this person. "This is the first time I hear you joking."
"Who said I'm joking?" He does put you down, and you walk beside him, still laughing and without any idea where you are.
You look back. "What about the car?" You can still see it in the distance, not that far into the tree, just enough to have ruined the engine. You're lucky not to have a single scratch.
"I've locked it. We can go back for whatever's inside later." He takes a deep breath. "Listen. I get... irrational when it comes to Sebastian. We never got along, not even when we were kids. Which is why I've kept my distance from him. And our incompatibility only made us drift further and further apart from each other with ever year. Every decade. Before that night he showed up at my house, I hadn't seen him in well over fifteen years."
"But..."
"But... we're still going. I... I won't let him cloud my judgement like that again."
You suppose that's as close of an apology you'll get, and you're fine with it, you'd honestly didn't even think he'd say as much.
After that, you walk mostly in silence in the cold evening, and when he sees you shivering, he offers to pick you up again. Since when was he this chivalrous? But you refuse his offer, on the account of you being too heavy and all. He just laughs, and you have no idea what's going on.
*
Grace can't stop pointing from him to you. "Okay, you're gonna have to tell us this story."
You sigh. "Please. I need water. And toothpaste. And… and clothes and a bath. Please."
"Of course, I'm sorry." You let her help you out, devoid of energy to do much more than just sit in the bathtub and let it wash this entire day away. The pastel purple shirt with a Count Dracula holding a book and the words, 'My favorite thing to sink my teeth into' makes you smile. Something tells you it's Tony's, and when Vincent sees you wearing something that's such a contrast to everything he's seen you wearing so far, he even does a double take. 
Later in the night, you and Grace plant Vincent's orange tree in her own little orchard, and when you tell her where it came from, the look in her eyes tells you that you really can, in fact, trust her.
"Listen, if you ever need- if one of you-" Vincent casually calls you, using what he calls blood control.
He whispers in your ear. "It's best if you don't." He doesn't use the control as he says this, making it only a suggestion.
"How did you know-"
His hand on your face is so gentle you don't mind the interruption. "You're kind. You're too kind for the likes of people like us. Keep it to yourself. If they ever need it, I'll know. I just told them the same story I gave Sebastian. I never told them I died."
"...Fine."
"I don't like it, for the record. Using that on you. It will pass, but it is a vile power."
You had no idea he felt that way. "I'll try not to… make you have to use it." You close your eyes and lie your head on his chest. "You're not… the worst person ever."
His chest rumbles in quiet laugh, and he starts speaking, but Grace interrupts.
"Oh? Have we really kissed and made up then? Are you unconditionally and irrevocably-"
"Don't. Please don't." That's a trainwreck you're only too happy to derail.
A bat flies around a little in front of you, and then Tony's there again. "Found him." He grabs a robe that's hanging from the wall and slides into it. "He has places all over Romania, but he's staying in some secluded castle for the moment, middle of nowhere. I'll write down the directions for you." He eyes you up and down and says with a wink: "Nice shirt!"
"...You're a bat too? What else? Can you turn into like, a frog? A goat? A dragon?"
He just shakes a finger at you. "Secrets of the trade, my dear. Need to know only."
"And by him, do you mean Sebastian? You were looking for him? Why don't you guys use cell phones?"
"Well, after our friend Vincent here deeply regretted his harsh words-" Vincent slaps him over the head. "Ow. I set out to find him. And Sebastian is a hard man to find, don't think he just gives away his number to mere mor-, uh, immortals."
"Well, you know what they say." Paul's voice surprises you, because you had no idea he was home.
Grace smiles, rolling her eyes. "What, Paul? What do they say?"
"A mere mortal… shuffles not their own coil."
You have no idea who says that, and what it means.
"Did you get it? Is it like I asked?" Vincent sounds almost… giddy.
"See for yourself." Paul hands him a set of keys and Vincent all but drags you to the front yard.
The monstrosity is at least twice as big as your car, and it looks like something a government agent would drive. All windows are tinted, including the windshield. 
"V8, baby. Carbon body, alloy wheels, 2% ceramic tint. Should let you drive during the day no problem. I'm almost getting one for myself."
"It's perfect." Vincent looks at you. "This is a car." You had no idea he was this enthusiastic about cars.
"No, this is a fucking boat! Do you even drive? Because I don't know if I can handle something this big." A very, very intrusive thought crosses your mind, and from the way both Grace and Paul are looking into nothing, scratching their heads and clearing their throats, you can tell it crossed theirs too. Only Tony smiles innocently, looking a little lost. 
Vincent shrugs. "I've crashed a few vehicles here and there. Broke my arm once."
Resignedly, you take the keys from his hands. "At least I have the excuse that I was drunk."
"Wait. You guys can't go now!" Grace takes the keys from your hands and gives them back to Vincent. "I need to do a protection spell on you. On you both, actually. You do know where you're going, right?"
Tony raises a finger in the air, as if he just had a great idea. "You guys should take us to be your muscle, the car is big enough. C'mon, it would be like an adventure. Like, y'know like Lord of the… of the Flies!"
You frown at him. "...Not where I thought you were going with that."
Vincent glares at Grace. "Well, can't you do it now?"
"No, I have to gather the ingredients. Now come on, you can leave at tomorrow's sunset."
*
"Is your charisma natural or part of your abilities?" You're so far on the edge of the couch that you're almost falling.
"How do you mean?"
"Well… Grace said you left her for dead. And now she's in the backyard picking up stuff to make you a protection spell. So, y'know, I was just wondering."
"I didn't 'leave her for dead', she had plenty of time to run back inside before dawn, and she did. It was a long time ago, and we are very resilient."
"Hm. What about Paul?"
He sighs. "Paul knew it was just a fling, I doubt he's ever held any grudges. Are you scared of me?"
He catches you by surprise with the abrupt change of subject. "What? No."
"Then why are you so far away?"
"Listen." You get infinitesimally closer. "I don't know if this will be bad for your ego, but there has never been any moment since I met you that I was ever afraid of you." You lower your voice to a whisper. "But Grace is right outside, and since it's almost dawn, she'll come back at any moment, and I don't want her walking in on… anything. We are in the middle of their living room. And judging from the noise, Paul and Tony are still up and playing video games. So keep your pointy claws to yourself tonight."
"...Fine." He turns away and moves to the other edge of the couch.
He's sulking. Vincent, the master vampire, heart-breaker extraordinaire, is sulking.
"I mean, it's not like I don't want to touch you, but…"
"No, I understand. Good night."
He is not going to guilt trip you. He won't. You know this is what he's doing, so it's not going to work.
Sighing in disappointment at your own weakness, you get closer to him. "You're such an asshole." You pull on his arm so he'll turn towards you.
"What? I'm respecting your wishes."
"Yeah, you can cut it out now. The whole manipulation thing does not look good on you."
He smiles, running a hand over your face and neck. "I was so wrong about you. Unremarkable? You're anything but. You're clever. Astute. And you have your own strengths too."
"Yeah, well…" You pull on his arm until he's halfway on top of you. "You're clearly not one of them." You kiss him softly, the knowledge that neither of you will want to stop if it goes too far sending a most definitely welcoming shiver down your spine.
The back door opens. "I'm not looking. I'm not looking. Carry on, kids." Grace traverses the room quickly, holding a basket by her side, while Vincent rests his head on your chest. He smiles at you after she leaves.
"You were clearly right. We might as well sleep, it's a long drive."
Now you're the one who wants to sulk, but you know you really should sleep. But you don't let him get back to his side, instead keeping his head on your chest, fondling his hair until his breathing turns deep and slow.
*
"This will make you immune to anyone trying to control you, unless you look them in the eye. Lasts ten days." Grace rubs something on your forehead and has you drink from a crystal glass, and it tastes surprisingly good. You were wondering what you were going to do if a vampire simply used their powers to order you to take off the pendant. "And Vincent," she rubs it on his cheeks and hands. "This will allow you to use some persuasion without draining your own energy, but only on humans. It will also give you an aura of power, making it seem to anyone you're at least thrice as strong." He drinks it too, and something about the word 'aura' makes you smile, although you're not quite sure why. "Lasts five days. It's all I can do for you."
"Thanks Grace, for everything." You hug her tight, then Paul and Tony.
As you start the car, you glance at Vincent, who looks particularly content with the amount of space he'll have to stretch as much as he wants to. "Guess you can't deny that you do, in fact, have friends now."
He sighs, but the corners of his mouth do turn up. "And just like that, the air of mystery, solitude and superiority I've been cultivating for decades is shot to hell. My reputation has taken quite a plunge."
You smile too. "Aw, I'm happy for you!"
The new car is surprisingly smooth on the road, the seats plush and absurdly comfortable. But it will take you a while to admit out loud that it is much better than your old one. You do stop by the crash site to transfer the contents of the trunk and everything else you need.
"So, we just abandon it?"
Vincent shrugs. "It's so far into the woods no one's going to find it. Not in a town this small. Just let nature claim it."
You nod and pat the trunk. "See ya, old girl."
3
You were weary about driving during the day, but Vincent assured you it would be okay, it's specifically why he asked for such dark window tint. But you still stick to mostly driving at night, there's less traffic, and you really don't want to hazard him being wrong.
You try to pay for the room this time, but he decides to test Grace's spell before you can stop him, and you almost slap him. But it goes well, and as the clerk starts to wake up from his haze, he can't keep his eyes off of Vincent, shaking a bit as he hands you the key. It makes you grin when you imagine what kind of vision the man is seeing in his head as he looks at him. A boxer? A bodybuilder? Or he just sees him the way he is and inanely ponders about how that tall, yet slender man is the most powerful creature he's ever seen? 
While you shower, you think about your decision and wonder what he'll think of it. But when you come out and he's in bed already, shirt hanging on a chair, you almost go back on it. "I have a request." You lie down beside him. "Can we wait? Until you're better? Because I wanted it to be just like that morning, but I can't just walk around all bruised and scratched up. Sure, they'll look at me funny, but that part I'm used to. But everyone's gonna think I'm dating some abusive asshole, and I can't have that." The moment you realize you just said, 'dating', you choke on nothing, already thinking on what to say to fix it.
But he just pulls on your arm so you'll wrap it around his waist and runs the back of his fingers over your face. "I was barely awake that morning. You have seen nothing yet." And with that promise and all its implications on your mind, this time it does take you a long time to fall asleep.
*
Twice you are stopped, because of the non-regulation tint, you imagine, and both times Vincent just glances at the officer and he lets you go. It is a very helpful spell, especially since you were not looking forward to those tickets.
You grab the map Tony made you, trying to make sense of it.
"What does it say?"
You study it a little. There's a drawing of what looks like a castle over a hill, surrounded by trees and a nearby lake. "It's kind of like this place, but there's no lake here. I think it's on the other side."
He sighs. "Why couldn't he have used an actual map?"
"Well, he said it actually wasn't on the map. It's not any of the famous ones, which I think are just museums now, for tourists?" You watch the landscape dreamily. "Do you think we could visit Bucharest afterwards? I've always wanted to."
Vincent watches the castle you just passed. "Sure. But these… I just don't see the appeal, living in a place this big when all I need is a bed. Sebastian was always… excessive."
"Go ahead and call him extra. But um, I guess it does look kinda cool? And it has a nice view."
He glances at you. "Is it where you want to live?"
"Oh, no, no. I also think it's too big. A place like your house would work just fine for me. Even that I think it's too much, actually."
He takes the map, turning it one side then the other. "Turn here."
"Into… the forest?"
"Supposedly there's a path up ahead." It's late afternoon, so it's still bright enough that you're not afraid of getting lost, so you follow his instructions. "Where did you live?"
"I, uh…" You thought you wouldn't have to talk about it. "Just a small place, bed and a toilet. Couldn't afford much."
"Mobile home?" You nod quickly, shame creeping up your face. "I can only imagine how clean and tidy it was, after all you did for my house. Too bad it was all for nothing."
"It wasn't. Even if it was just for a short while, at least you got to see it kind of like what it used to look like."
You drive in silence for a while, and just as you're about to ask him for directions, he touches your hand softly. "Thank you." His voice just as soft.
You'd admit it, all your feelings for him if he asked again right now.
"You're welcome."
"Look." He points at a lake in the distance and a white structure atop of a hill that you can only imagine is your destination.
The moment you start approaching the castle, it's like the atmosphere changes, becomes more oppressive, and you feel like you're going straight to the final boss in an RPG, but your character is level 1. "Any last minute advice?"
"Sure, turn around and go back to Grace's. I'll call you when we're done."
You raise your eyebrows at him. "Oh, you're being funny again. That's nice."
He sighs. "I could order you to. But you know I won't."
"I wouldn't forgive you if you did."
"Just… don't go anywhere alone with him. Don't tell him you're a necromancer. I am not kidding or exaggerating when I say he is dangerous. He was fine at first, but something changed after he moved here. Bad company, I imagine. And… there's something else too." He looks away, seemingly unwilling to continue, but you wait patiently. "I lied to you. She wasn't the one who turned him. I did. She… wanted to test to see if I had the ability, and told me to choose between him and Christopher. Of course I chose him. I thought I was protecting Christopher, but in the end it was all in vain."
"But… she made you do it, it's not like it was your fault."
"Well, he holds a grudge regardless. And do you know the reason? He can't turn others, and he thinks if she had been the one to bite him, that he would be able to, like me. But that's not how it works. You… you don't know what's going to happen. You don't inherit the traits of your sire, it's all random. Tony's the only person I've turned that can transform. And there was a girl once who could create illusions, I've never seen anything like that afterwards. I imagine it could be related to your personality. Or maybe your physiology. I don't know. I honestly don't know." Just as the sun sets, he takes your face in his hands. "If something happens to me, go back to them. They'll look after you. Even if you don't want to stay with them, they'll help you out."
"But I-"
"Promise me. Promise me this one thing."
"...Okay." He kisses you with such fervor that you moan a little, blushing when you realize you've done so.
"Don't look in his eyes, don't forget." He opens the door and you do the same.
"I won't."
The door to the castle has a knocker, but it also has security cameras. Vincent examines both. He points at the knocker. "Silver. His traps aren't only to keep humans out, it seems." Just as you're about to use it, the door opens.
And it's an actual butler. At least he seems to be, judging by how he's dressed. He makes way for the both of you. "Come in. Right this way, please." He leads you into some brightly lit hallways, then dark ones. You take Vincent's hand for these, weary someone or something might separate you. The butler finally leaves you in a big, round library. "Master will be with you in a moment." With that, he leaves.
There are so many bookshelves that it makes you wonder how anyone would have time to read all that. "I want to laugh but… it seems all humor has left my body."
"If he brings blood in a teacup, I might." You do laugh then, but stop quickly as you hear footsteps approaching. And as much as you want to get this over with as soon as possible, you still kind of hope it's just the butler with the cups of blood.
But it's not the butler. "Ah, my dear brother and the Re-Animator. I called you Renfield, when really you're more of a Herbert, aren't you? To what do I owe the honor of such esteemed guests?"
He… knows?
Before either of you can speak, he continues. "You think you fooled me that night? I know what it's like to feel one of my beloved brothers die. You were gone. For a few minutes you were gone. And then you were back. What conclusion did you want me to draw other than you died and someone brought you back? And I see you two that night, being all friendly and domestic… it wasn't exactly difficult to put two and two together." He crosses his arms. "Who killed you, by the way? It must have been a powerful hunter of beasts."
Vincent sighs. "It was a girl. I was careless."
"Hm. And where's she?"
He shrugs. "Gone."
"And that's where you come in." He turns towards you, and you quickly avert your eyes, looking down. "Did your hocus pocus and… brought him back. Simple as that."
"That's right."
"Interesting. And how does it work?" He gets closer, and your eyes remain on the floor.
"I… well…"
"Aren't you going to ask what we're doing here, Sebastian?" Vincent is suddenly beside you.
"What do you mean? I was thinking you wanted revenge against this girl, who's apparently so powerful you couldn't do it on your own."
"I couldn't care less about her. But I've run into a certain… predicament. I got silver poisoning."
Sebastian huffs. "What? How? The girl?"
You decide to take that one. "No, it was me. He did it to save me." His eyes are on you. You can feel him, trying to peek into your brain, trying to get in. You don't know if he's just trying to get you to tell the whole story or what, but you do so anyway. "I was dying, so he cut himself with my piercing so I could have some of his blood. But it was a silver earring. And it infected his neck."
"His neck? Why-" He thankfully turns his eyes back to Vincent. "Why didn't you cut your arm? That way all you had to do to heal was cut it off and wait for a new one to grow."
"Because… damn you, Sebastian. Get out of my head, you know it doesn't work."
"I was wondering why you were about to lie to me. I didn't pry much that night out of respect, because it was your home. But you're here now, and you're going to tell me everything. You know, out of respect. And by the way, where is all that power coming from? Because I know you're not that strong."
"It's a spell. A witch made me a potion and I drank it." Well, it's not a lie. "And…" he sighs. "I didn't think it would work anyway. The blood transfusion. So I wanted it at least to have an… intimate moment, at the end."
"Aww, you're so soft it's giving me nausea." You can't imagine how embarrassing this might be for him to admit it. But the one who's blushing is you.
Sebastian examines Vincent's neck wound for a while. "Well, then, here's what I propose. Why don't we cut your head off, Vincent, right below the infected gash. That way a new one can grow, and you'll be all fine and dandy again."
You almost choke at the absurdity of his words. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Absolutely not!" You look him in the eyes, then quickly avert your gaze to the floor.
"Why is it that you're so demure? It doesn't go with that mouth of yours. Are you trying to hide that black eye? Did he do this?" You feel him peering into your head again. When you don't say anything else, he grabs your chin so you'll look at him, but you close your eyes at the last moment. "Tell me!"
It lasts only a second, then he's gone. When you open your eyes, Vincent has Sebastian's arm in his grasp, pushing him against a bookshelf and choking him with his other hand. A couple of people rush into the room, security guards apparently, holding what seems to be silver-studded batons, but you could be wrong. Because they're clearly vampires too. Then you notice they're wearing gloves.
"Down, boys. It's just my little brother being a pest. Oh no, wait. I'm the little brother. I'm always forgetting that." He dismisses them with his unrestrained hand, and Vincent lets go of his throat. "Fine. I was kidding about the decapitation. That would obviously kill you. But I do know a way. Follow me." Vincent releases his arm, and you both follow him. More dark hallways and sets of stairs. Down, always down. 
After a while, you reach what seems to be a laboratory, clean and brightly lit. A vampire sits in a corner, smoking, an IV strapped to his arm. His leg on a chain that goes into the ground. You can't help but ask. "Who's that?"
"That's ah, Turner. Hey, Turner."
'Turner' flips him off. He stops next to a table full of creatures in jars, some of which you have never even seen. "Our sire had the right idea. She wanted to train us, to have enough of us so we could assert our dominance in the world."
"That's what you got out of it? Because to me, it seemed all she wanted to do was feed and fuck."
You look at Vincent, flabbergasted, because it's the first time you hear him using such language. Sebastian just smiles at him. "I guess our relationships were different. You were clearly her boytoy. But I was her soldier. And I intend to honor her legacy."
"She killed Christopher!"
Sebastian frowns. "I thought it was the other way around, Vincent."
Vincent actually growls. "If she hadn't bitten him-"
"He would have died. Didn't you know he was sick?"
"...What?" He's so taken aback that he shrinks a little, shoulders hunching and hands closing around his elbows.
"I found some documents. Medical exams and whatnot. Something to do with his lungs. It's a miracle he lasted that long, actually."
"...You told her to bite him." His voice is so muted you wouldn't have heard him if you weren't standing right beside him.
"I have many more guards down here, so keep your cool, I don't know if I can call them all back fast enough. But it was for his own good. She poisoned you too much with her blood, that's why you couldn't see it."
You take Vincent's hand on both of yours and he looks at you, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 
"Ours wasn't the only house, you know. She had many others. And I've spoken to some of her other… children."
This time it's Vincent's hand that clutches yours, as if he's trying to hold back from doing something hasty. "Didn't you say you knew a way? To heal the silver infection?"
"We're getting there, we're getting there. Look. All my mad scientists. Dr. Brown, Dr. Doom, Dr. Octavius, Dr. Frankenstein… We've been studying it for a while now." He grabs a jar from a table where all the doctors, which clearly sport name tags with their actual names, are huddled around. 
There is a putrid, rotted hand inside.
"Yeah, that's mine." You immediately look at his arms, but he still has both hands. It's also when you notice he doesn't have claws like Vincent. You wish you had paid attention to Turner's hands. "It got cut off by a silver sword. Then I did that thing I said. I cut the stump further with a regular steel sword, and it grew back, free of poison. That one started necrosing pretty fast, though. How long did you say you cut yourself with the piercing?"
Vincent's still looking at the hand, so you answer him. "About twelve days ago."
"Oh, good, we have time then. That thing took about twenty days to get like that."
"Twenty…" Your hands squeeze Vincent's. "What do we do?"
"It's simple. Didn't you hear me calling all the doctors names? I'm clearly missing one. Dr. West." He looks at you with a smile that is nothing if not nefarious. "So here's the deal. We can't do it. Yet. But… we're close, really close, and with all of you together, I'm sure we can find a cure. And we have a whole week to work on it."
"Okay." You only realize you were staring at him after Vincent pulls your head to his chest. But it's too late. It doesn't make much sense, because you would have accepted anyway. Not that you know what you could possibly bring to the table. You have zero knowledge in anything medical related, or biological… and your head is going numb. You think Vin- who? someone is calling your name, but you can't really say for sure. All you can hear is Sebastian.
*
There's a man strapped to a table. He's really handsome. But pale, too pale. He tries to raise his hand in your direction, but can't due to the straps. And you want to touch him, he makes your heart hurt, and you don't know why. But the voice in your head reminds you that's not what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to collect tissue from his neck, the wound black and festering. It stinks, but you don't care, you just feel so bad for him.
*
You give your own blood too, and you do spells in both creatures and body parts. It doesn't seem to work very well with the body parts, but Franky helps you out with that. He says his name isn't Franky, but that's all you can call him.
*
The pale man is even paler now, and the wound on his neck looks much worse. You think you're crying, but you keep moving towards him, until someone grabs both your arms, and it's only after some struggle that they get you to open your hand, and the scalpel drops to the floor.
*
You're strapped to a table.
*
The black hand moves.
*
The man is gone from the table, but there's a black stain around the area where his neck used to be.
You cry, and more Latin spews from your lips.
*
He's watching you. Watching you sleep. You know that. You know if you open your eyes, you'll see him, and everything will be okay. But you can't open them, it's like they're stitched together. Your mouth feels the same way. But your hands are free. You try to pry them open, but nothing works. Then you reach for your neck and feel something there. It's round. A pendant? 
The owl. The owl and the moon. 
You open your eyes, but there's no one there.
*
You're on a hill, there's a fight going on down there, it seems to be a man and a woman, but you're too far away to tell. Then you realize you've been following him, because you want something from him. You didn't feel anything for him then. You just wanted the one thing. But now you do, and when the girl impales him with the stake, you feel it in your own heart.
"Vincent!"
"Quiet, you're going to wake everyone up."
He's there. He's sitting right there, right beside you. Why isn't he in bed with you? Oh, it's a stretcher, not a bed. You reach to him, but can't move your hands. "Why am I tied up?"
"You were clawing at your mouth and eyes. I did it so you wouldn't hurt yourself." He moves as he speaks, untying the restraints, and the moment he does, your arms lock around him.
"I… I thought you were dead."
He chuckles. "Well, you almost tried to kill me once, but it's okay, I won't hold it against you since you were high out of your mind. Well, high on whatever Sebastian's persuasion is."
"I tried to… wait. Did…" You push him away from you so you can look at his neck. There is nothing, no bandage, no scar. His neck is tantalizing and irresistible and unmarred, just like it was before. "We… we did it?"
He nods. "Sebastian has more knowledge now than he did before. I don't know how bad this could be. But it doesn't matter. Something to worry about some other time. He's gone for now, said we could stay for as long as we wanted, but I wouldn't like another minute in here." You remember very vaguely of your time at the lab. It makes you feel guilty that you could possibly have aided someone's perverse experiments. "Let's go." He starts to get up and pull you with him, but you remain on the stretcher.
"Wait. Shouldn't we do something? How about that Turner guy? Do we release him? Do you think he's using him to… y'know…"
"What? What do you suppose we do? Rescue the poor soul? We don't even know who he is. He could be better off locked away for all we know."
"But… but we… I don't know. Maybe we could try to find out what his plans are? Try to thwart them?"
"Thwart them?" He smiles unamused. "This isn't an espionage movie, and we're no heroes. What we can do is keep an eye out for him, there's no point in acting blindly."
"...You haven't felt it, have you? You said his power doesn't work on you?"
"He has tried it, and I can feel him digging in, but no. None of our powers work on the other. To each other, we're just regular people." He has given up trying to get you to follow him, but hasn't sat back down.
"It's… dangerous. I can still feel it. I can still…" You can hear a voice in your head. StayStayStayStayStay. It's not quite Sebastian's, but it's somewhat similar. It's weaker, but at the same time stronger, because it's making you want to stay.
"I'm sorry." This time, Vincent does sit down beside you. "That you had to go through that. But there's no point in dwelling here anymore. Let's get as far as we can from here."
Stay.
Your head starts to muddle. "I… I have to stay."
He frowns. "What? Why?"
You want to keep helping on the experiments.
"I want to… keep helping on the experiments…"
"What? No, that's insane, why are you…" You don't hear the rest of his words with how loud the voice is..
You have a gift, and you want to share it for the greater good.
"I want to… I… to share my… gift?"
He glowers at you. "Who is inside your head?"
Grace's spell is still in place. This is all you.
"No one, Grace's spell is still in place. This is all me."
He continues glaring at you, and you can only imagine he's trying to get inside your head too. "Tell me the truth."
Your mind gets even muddier, but nothing comes out of your mouth. His blood control has been broken.
Let him go. The truth is you know he's not right for you. And you lied to him, you do in fact want to live in a castle. This one.
"You… we shouldn't be together…You should go. That is the truth. I want... I want to live here." The words feel disgusting in your mouth, and your heart feels like it's physically breaking. It only worsens when you look at his face.
You've never seen him make such a face. Such a betrayed face.
That's right. He'll be okay, you've done your part. Let him go. You don't want to be with him. Time to say goodbye.
You let go of him. "You're okay now, I've done my part, but… I don't want to be with you anymore. Goodbye." Something keeps your tears from falling, but your eyes are burning.
"...I see." He stands up again and starts walking away. That in itself already feels terrible and wrong. But there's something else. Something else that's wrong. 
Not knowing what to do, you grip the pendant with both hands. The grasp of that voice vanishes for a moment and you stand up, walking around slowly, head still jumbled, and you look for him, but he's gone already. Your heart is on the floor. You try to follow, but the place is a maze, hallways that lead nowhere, rooms full of people sleeping. 
Something's wrong.
"Vincent!" 
You'll wake everyone up. You don't care. Finally, you see light up ahead and you follow it, someone must still be up. It's such a bright light. You hope you're not back at the lab. No, the lab lights are white, this one is more yellow, and brighter. Way brighter. And warm. "No." You look at your watch. 5:58 a.m.
You step into the sunlight and see him outside. He's walking away from the castle, closer and closer to where the shadow of it ends and there's nothing but sunlight. "VIN-"
STAY
The pendant touches your hand and you grab it. "NO! FUCK OFF!" You jump out the window, trying to roll as you fall so you won't break anything, and when you look up, he's right there, and so is the sun. "Vincent!"
He turns around just as the sun hits his face, and you try to stumble to your feet, but your legs aren't working, but you have to pull him away, away from the sun, you have to, you have…
But the sun is already shining all over him, and he's turning to dust, getting smaller, vanishing… your heart is turning to dust too, he…
He's kneeling beside you. "What's wrong with you?"
"You… you're okay. You're okay. You're okay. You're… how, how are you okay?"
"I thought you wanted me gone?"
"No! Never! There was something. I don't know. Something in my head. Telling me awful things. Please let's get out of the sun."
His face softens, and he stands up slowly. "Come on."
"I… can't move."
"What? It doesn't seem like it was such a big fall. You're probably just in shock." He tries to pick you up, but fails, then he sits down in the shade of a tree.
"What-"
"Shh. In a moment."
You just nod and watch him. He's not dead, that's all it matters. When clouds cover the sun for a moment, he picks you up, still with a bit of trouble. You think about joking about being too heavy, but there's no mood for that.
Soon you reach the car. You can feel some movement returning to your legs when he puts you in the driver's seat and gets to his side, closing both doors.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I said those things. There was a voice like Sebastian's making me say it. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it. And I'm sorry I tried to kill you."
He watches you for a long time, then rests his forehead on yours. "It's fine. It's probably that thing. He said it was harmless, but… we should really get as far away from here as possible. Are your legs okay now?"
You try to move, and they do, but it still feels too weak. "Not really. But Vincent… it knew about Grace's spell. When I told you it was still in place, it was the voice who reminded me of that. It knows about it… and the spell doesn't work on it."
"I will talk to Sebastian about it. But we are leaving now, although I should warn you. Once again, we might not survive." He picks you up again and basically throws you in the back seat. Then he moves to the driver seat and turns the key, looking at the pedals. "I don't even know which one is the brakes."
"Oh, no." You cover your face with your hands, but the car seems to be moving just fine. "Wait. What thing? And you haven't told me how you haven't… disappeared yet."
"You said you trusted me, right? Then don't ask, you don't want to know. We won't ever have to deal with it again, since we're going far, far away. Where do you want to go? Bucharest?"
"Anywhere, anywhere is fine. Vincent, please."
"I… I can stand it. For a while, at least. I told you there are people with rare powers. I can stand it. Can barely move in it, though, and it hurts. And it makes me powerless for a while. I can feel it burning. I just… don't."
You want to yell. You want to scream on his face. Why didn't he tell you? But you don't. Something in his voice… "Are you embarrassed of it?"
"Of course! It's a weakness, not a power! It doesn't do me any good. When I stepped into it and realized I wasn't burning, I wanted to laugh at first. Then it did start to burn. Smoke actually started to rise from me, and I changed my mind. I dragged myself back to the shadow until I could move. So I suppose if I stay in it long enough…"
You open your mouth then close it again, realizing what he just said. He walked into the sun, willingly. Thinking he would turn to dust.
You don't know what he sees when he looks at you through the rear view mirror, but his voice is soft. "It was a long time ago."
You can't stand being in the back seat anymore. "Pull over." He does so without a word, and your legs are well enough that you can open the back door and walk to the front. You sit beside him, a hard fit, but when he tries to go to the passenger seat, you don't let him. Then you hold him so tight he actually gasps a little. "It's okay." You breathe him in. "You're okay. Everything is okay."
He whispers something in your ear, and you revel in the elation it brings you. "Do you believe me now?"
You take a deep breath, and it takes you so long to exhale that you can't say how long you've been holding it. "Yeah. I love you too. So much you wouldn't believe it."
*
You don't know much about stars, but you can tell the hotel has five of them. The receptionist watches you approach the counter with visible disgust. Then Vincent does his thing, and you grab the keycard.
"There's a jacuzzi! I've always wanted to try it. Can you call room service?"
"Sure. What would you like as your last meal?"
*
It hurts much more than you thought it would, but you try not to squirm too much. You just hold his head in place, fingers splaying in his hair as he sucks the life out of you.
*
Both the pain and the hunger are unbelievable, and he gives you his arm to suck on, warning you it's not going to really ease the pain, only help you heal faster. You black out, and when you wake up, there's someone else in the room. A zombie? No, just a girl. She's holding your knife, and there's a gash in her wrist. "I won't let you get too much. You're not going to kill her." He brings the girl's arm to your mouth and you suck, you couldn't care less if she died, you just want to feed. It tastes good, so good. Delicious. More. More. More.
But he's pulling her away from you, and you whimper, trying to follow. But once again, you're restrained.
"Shh, it's okay. I brought more." You manage to look around, and there's another girl and two boys, all zombie-like in their expressions. You feel loved.
*
Vampires do go to the bathroom. But only number one.
*
"...They don't remember?"
"They remember what I want them to remember. Those two couples? Made a suicide pact all together, but regretted it last minute."
"I… I didn't even care if she lived or died. But I do. I do now. Is she okay?"
"They all are. And it's part of the initial hunger. Next time you'll be aware enough already."
*
You feel more vain than you ever did looking in the mirror. "Huh. I don't think I need makeup anymore."
*
You want to make it special, something you'll both always remember. An idea strikes you, and you drag him to the car. You take off your clothes, staying only in your underwear. "Much more space, no vomit, no sunlight."
The effect is almost immediate… you can see it in his pants. "I'm not sure if any of that would have been enough to stop me, to be honest."
"Ew." He's still watching you voraciously. "Well, what are you waiting for?"
He pounces.
Mouth on yours hungrier than ever before, claws making short work of what little you were wearing. Then he sits back on his seat and pulls you onto his lap. You kiss him just as he enters you, and you moan into his mouth, legs parting to get more of him. Then his teeth are on your neck and his nails all over you. You barely manage to pant your desires. "Harder… More…"
"Which?"
"...All of it."
He makes a feral noise that has you swooning. "Perfect is not nearly a good enough word to describe you."
You look at your arms and almost feel bad for bleeding all over the upholstery. Almost.
He speeds up, hands on your hips gripping so tight as he brings you down on him over and over that you're sure those marks will take longer to heal than the scratches. You die in his arms, the best death of your life, and he follows soon after.
When your breathing starts going back to normal, you kiss his neck and return to your seat so you can smoke, and when you look down at yourself, still panting a little, you can see the scratches have already started to heal. "Aw, man."
He chuckles. "Really? I won't feel bad for you next time, then."
"Oh? And when is next time?"
He's still smiling, gloriously naked and beautiful, and you wonder when was it that he took off his clothes. Then you see his pants are still around his ankles, and his shirt is on the floor of the car, buttons scattered all over. Your dead heart has never beaten harder. "Have mercy, I'm an old man. Give me at least five minutes."
Being a vampire fucks.
"That long? Maybe there's something I can do to help speed up the process." Cigarettes completely gone from your mind, in a moment you're between his legs, once again thankful for such a spacious car, and the gesture alone is enough to get a decent reaction out of him. You don't dawdle too much, or at all, taking him in your mouth as far as you can, almost choking, then going further and further, until he pulls you away.
"Okay, that did it."
You grin, returning to your seat. "Harder."
"...I haven't even started yet."
"Why not?"
Something snaps underneath you. You're pretty sure the poor car seat isn't supposed to recline that fast and without using the handle. Now the car's going to need both a wash and a mechanic.
He bites so hard, it's almost like he wants to turn you again. You moan your appreciation and try to move against him, not that the position helps much. You almost regret not settling for the bed. One of your feet ends up on the ceiling, while the other hits the horn.
"Oops. Do you think someone's gonna come?"
"You and me, hopefully."
You laugh and kiss him again.
*
"Let me try it, I think I can do it."
"Not with that attitude, you can't."
"What?"
"What? The movie we just saw last week? With the green old man? Do or do not, there is no try."
You grin. "Never in a million years did I ever think I'd hear you quoting Star Wars. Alright, I'll do it." You look the realtor in the eyes, focusing hard. Give me the key, all the documents are signed, everything is paid for.
Her eyes go out of focus for a moment, but then she just shakes her head with a frown. "What just-"
Vincent does it with a glance. She hands him the key and leaves.
"Showoff."
He kisses your head. "It's okay, you can try it on the car guy when we go pick it up. It just takes a little practice." The house isn't big, but there's a mantel in the living room, and you place the box with the pendant. It's a little crooked since you had to handle it with a piece of cloth, but it looks good. There's catnip in the garden, which you hope will bring many of your favorite creatures for a visit. There's also a place perfect for an orange tree. You hope it hasn't grown enough that it won't fit in the car. But by the time you decide to go pick it up, Grace tells you it's grown so much it would be dangerous to uproot it. She has a new sapling ready for you on your next visit.
*
Your hand still hurts where the sun touched it. Vincent chides you, but you had to know. You just had to know.
*
"I don't know, guys. It's not the same thing." Grace removes her sarong and spreads it over the sand so she can sit on it.
"Why, just because you can't tan? You can moonbathe, isn't it better? No burnt skin, no need for lotion."
She shrugs. "Moonbathing does make my spells stronger. Alright, where's the picnic basket?"
"Oh, I have it." Tony brings the picnic basket, a beach ball, snorkels, flippers and many other things you had no idea were in the car.
The picnic consists of jello blood cubes, blood popsicles, just plain old blood in a jug of juice and a watermelon. Which was Paul's idea.
"We can hit it with a baseball bat. I saw it in an anime."
"Why, Paul? Why?" Vincent rubs his face.
"For fun, you curmudgeon. Fun. Still know what that is?"
"Fine, but don't blame me if I accidentally hit your head instead." He doesn't, but the watermelon explodes with the first hit, so that's an activity that ends too quickly.
Later when everyone's too tired from playing and it's just the two of you by the fireplace, you can't hide a satisfied smile. It went great, and everybody seemed to have a good time.
"Why the beach, though?" he asks between kisses on your neck and ear.
"Well… it's been a year today. I wanted to celebrate, then I remembered something Grace said once, and I thought, why not, y'know? We're allowed to have fun at the beach or wherever the hell we please. To hell with the sun, who needs that stupid ball of fire."
There has been no news on Sebastian, whatever he's planning, if he is planning, none of you heard a thing. Besides, is it even your job to… what? Stop him? Keep him in line? Defeat him? You snort. If it comes down to it… when the time comes…
"I know what you are thinking." You eye him suspiciously. "No, I haven't secretly had telepathy this whole time, I just know you. And I really don't think you should worry all that much. He's a procrastinator. Whether he plans to gather an army to, I don't know, lead the 21st century vampire uprising against the world or he just wants to increase his harem size, it will take a while either way. And he'll end up doing neither."
"... Harem?"
"I used to be like him, in a way."
"Harem?"
"No!" He laughs and pushes you away, then immediately brings you back. "I looked for someone too, someone who would be by my side. Someone strong, someone… perfect." He takes your face in his hands. "But then you came along and threw a wrench right in the middle of that plan."
"Um… y'know, I think we should try to see if you would survive that decapitation after all." You put your hands around his neck, but the sensation of his pulse under your fingers and the expression in his eyes are enough to assuage you. "Asshole." You kiss his neck and look around. Your friends, something you've never had much of in your life. Grace bathing in the moonlight, even wearing sunglasses (moonglasses?), Paul apparently sleeping while Tony buries him up in the cold sand. Then your eyes return to him. Your lover. The person who hung the moon and the stars. You really couldn't ask for anything more. "I love it, you know? Love this life. Thank you for giving it to me."
He lies down on the sand and pulls you on top of him. "You know, I think that should be my line."
LeEnd
(some notes)
I should say that in my canon Cora can endure the sun because her transformation isn't complete, and to be honest I'm unsure if she defeated the 'curse' by the end or not. And her mother can kinda stand it? idk, her mom's probably a ghoul, who cares about her bleh
(Also they were in Europe all along?? Even though the campers in the film all seemed to be American?? What? Uh... tourists.) But yeah, I know it was filmed in California but it kinda gave me a European feel. Who cares, not important.
Also2 I know I set up some shit with Sebastian and his... thing, whatever that might be, but I don't think there will be a part 3. It's not impossible, but it's highly unlikely. Unless a muse comes and bites me right in the ass
This was all inspired by London After Midnight (the band not the film) and to me they're Vincent's band now. Either Spider and the Fly or Love You to Death could very well be his theme song. Actually no, scratch that. Their entire discography is his theme song 🧛
Part one and this are hands down the most absolutely self-indulgent thing I've ever written in my life. No joke. And there's barely any smut
Thanks for reading.
No, wait, there's more. Eh, just a couple of dialogues that I didn't end up using because things went a different way.
"Y'know, we should have a double date sometime now that we're officially dating and all."
He looks at you as if you've grown a third eye. "Officially? I thought that was settled since I kissed you the first time. Have I not been a proper boyfriend to you after that?"
Well, of course not! crosses your mind, but then you think about it, really think about it. Every word. Every action. Everything he said and did and you thought he wasn't serious. Yes, you realize your mistake. Your big, dumb mistake. Because he has. Ever since that day in the attic he's been so much… well, you wouldn't say nicer, or sweeter but… less of an asshole?
Really? This entire time?
You're about to speak, but then he continues. "We've been looking for a place to live. Together. As… roommates, then?"
"Oh no."
"Your face is really, really red."
You cover said face with both hands. "Shut up! Oh no. I'm so stupid. I'm so, so stupid."
"That's okay." He pulls your hands from your face so he can kiss you. "You can be stupid all you want, I love you regardless."
*
"You kissed my what?"
You can't bear to look at his face. "I don't wanna talk about it."
He ignores you. "Because, I seem to remember you calling me a creep, you, who stalked me for weeks, who watches me sleep…"
"How do you- I mean, uh…"
"And while I was sleeping, you said you kissed my what?"
"I don't want. To talk. About it. It was a slip of the tongue."
"Oh, I'll bet it was."
"Vincent…!"
"It's alright, I don't mind. The creep and the freak. I bet people will have a hard time figuring out who's who."
You can't even be mad at him for that. Because he doesn't even know the worst part.
Okay now it's really the end.
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alecrym · 3 months
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Hello :)
I made Instagram profiles for the main characters of my fanfic Rebel Rebel. They're like screenshots of their profile on City of Angels era.
PS: Remus doesn't have social media.
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When I was writing I thought a lot about the fans/general public point of view of the band, specially on City of Angels era. The profiles (and interviews I wrote for Rebel Rebel: extras)  are another way of understanding how following only the part of their lives that they showed to the public was not enough to know how troubled everything was behind the scenes. 
I posted this Instagram profiles on Wattpad a while ago. I was also going to post on ao3 but I gave up on understanding how to insert images there 😅 so I just decided to post here instead.
Bonus:
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Just because I felt like doing hers too (the guy is Harry)
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salmonpiffy · 1 year
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Apple of my eyes - God of War
I wrote the fanfic! AAAAAAAAAAAAA 
English isn’t my first language but I had tried my best to translate it as good as possible (Thanks to Google Translate, Quillbot and my own English skills)
Idk which part will have a weird grammar but you know what? I’ll take a risk XD
I don’t have Ao3 account yet, so I’ll just post on here first. Enjoy!
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“Shall we go out tomorrow?”
Kratos, who was sewing a sack, looked up at the owner of the voice.
Faye was sitting opposite him, looking out the window. The two were resting in a hut they had built a few years ago. The firelight illuminated her orange hair and blue eyes.
“The snow has melted. I wanna pick some fruit near the Lower Wildwoods.” Faye spoke again, after looking out of the window for a while, she turned her head to look at him. Midgard has been buried in winter for the past several weeks. Although there is rarely a heavy storm this time, they both started to feel relieved (Especially Faye) when this gloomy weather finally ended.
“What fruit are you going to collect?” Kratos asked.
“Apples, and checking around there to see if there is any problem. I hope no more trolls come in.” Faye replied.
“Hm” Kratos hum softly.
The woman turned to look outside the window again and sighed.
“By the way, I haven't eaten an apple for a while. Miss the sweet taste of it already.” She smiled at the thought of the fruit.
Kratos didn't answer. His amber eyes still looked at her. Every time he saw Faye smiling or laughing his heart always swelled up. He looked at her for a moment before hurriedly pulling himself back down and continuing to sew the sack. He decided to continue the conversation.
“Speaking of apples… There are stories about apples in my land.”
Faye turned to look again with interest. Kratos continued
“It was The Golden Apple. The legendary fruit that caused the fight between the goddesses until the prince of Troy had to choose who is the fairest one. After deciding the winner, that triggered a war between cities.”
“That…sounds like a mess.” Faye said
Kratos nodded in agreement
“Besides that. People believe that apples represent love. If they like someone, they will throw it to that person as a sign of love.”
“They’re really flirting like that?” Faye asked, sounds surprised
“Yes”
“That’s adorable”
“Hm” Kratos often grunted as the two talked. Sometimes Faye finds it amusing.
“Well, we have a story about the Golden Apples in this land too but mine is now boring when compared to yours” Faye chuckled.
“And what about yours, Faye?” Kratos asked
“Nothing’s very big” She shrugged 
“You are good at telling stories. Listening to your voice would help me concentrate on repairing this”
Faye smiled softly
“Alright, Grumbles”
They sat there, telling their story and talking until the sun almost went down.
----
In the next morning, they both went to the Lower Wildwoods. After checking that there are no intruders. Both of them took a boat to another place which is not very far away. They arrived at the dock for a short time.
“Are you certain there will be apples to pick today?” Kratos asked as the boat docked. Faye nodded confidently.
“I've been here many times. Of course there must be.” She picked up the basket and walked onto the deck and led him to the forest.
After a long winter, the forest that had been covered with white snow began to change.The white of the birch trunks contrasts with the warm orange sun and the slightly snowy ground. From a cold wind to a light breeze. Since Faye loved this atmosphere, it was easy for him to notice because she looked energetic right now.
They walked for a while until they reached the destination. Most of the trees in this forest were birch or fir, but here there were a few apple trees. Each tree has a big red apple. hanging on many branches. Faye reached out and pulled an apple to inspect its condition before nodding and showing Kratos the fruit in his hand.
“Looking good!” she said happily.
Kratos grunt in replied
“Pick at least five of them, alright? This will be our dinner.”
Faye put the first apple in the basket before turning around and continuing to look for more apples. Kratos helped find them too. He stared for a moment before pulling out one apple to take a look. This one seems good enough to keep
Kratos turned to Faye but instead called her. He stopped
With an apple in his hand, He wanted to try it but hesitated a little…he hadn't flirted with anyone for decades. After all, this land was not Greece, might this action seem too strange for her?
…But then he chose to try.
“Faye”
“Yes?”
The moment Faye turned around, a big apple flew toward her.
“!!!!”
She managed to catch the apple.
Faye looked at the fruit in her hand, confused before looking up at the man standing before her.
Kratos's face, from where his eyebrows were frowned all the time, now had both eyebrows slightly raised, as if he looked relieved.
“You threw it to me?” Faye asked.
“...Yes,” he replied, she could feel a tiny shyness in his voice.
“You don’t have to throw like that. It might-” Faye stopped because she realized something.
“Apples represent love. If they like someone, they will throw it to that person as a sign of love.”
Wait, is that mean...
Faye looked at the apple and looked at him again before burst out laughing. He actually was flirting with her!
“You!” Faye exclaimed. Her face turned red as she laughed.
“I just… wanted to try.” Kratos said..
When Faye stopped laughing Kratos approached and slowly raised one of his hands to touch her hand that was holding the apple, but didn't say anything.
“Kratos?”
“I am sorry, I had startled you,” Kratos said softly. Faye sighed.
“You don't have to apologize.” Faye replied, still smiling.
“I forgot to tell you that if the other person can catch the apple, it means that they had accepted the love confession”
“And I caught it”
"Yes"
Suddenly, Faye leaned forward and kissed him. His amber eyes widened. For a quick moment, their lips parted.
“I like it” she whispered. His pale cheeks slowly turned red. Even though this was a short kiss, he could still feel the other's soft lips. 
“You caught well” Kratos complimented.
“If the mighty warrior gets hit in the face with an apple, it would be very embarrassing, wouldn't it?” Faye teased.
Kratos chuckled lightly. This rare reaction made her smiled more brightly.
"Thank you for the apple, Kratos. This one is beautiful."
“Hm”
At this moment, the sunlight shone on the woman's face, brightening her orange hair and eyes as blue as the sea. Her flushed cheeks made her look more beautiful than the apple in her hand.
The former god of war's heart swelled again.
When the evening came, they both ate the apple together. It was just as sweet as Faye said.
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bomberqueen17 · 11 months
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assorted, and snippet
it is a rainy sunday. we had a glorious last-gasp-of-summer week, 70s and sunny and lovely, and then last night as the sun went down it suddenly got cold and is going to stay that way.
today's my late father's birthday. he'd've been 79 today. farmsister asked the family groupchat if we wanted to do anything special but like, what? no, so we're just having our normal sunday family dinner. she decided to make enchiladas because while the tomatoes are done, there are still tomatillos, so she's roasting those. i decided to thaw a pork butt and i'll make a sort of al pastor kind of pulled pork for the filling, later. but at the moment i'm out in my cabin, which is a disaster area and needs cleaning. but at the moment i'm just listening to the rain on the metal roof, and i have the propane stove on to get it up to room temperature in here, and i'm dying to take a nap but probably won't.
i told myself i could sit for an hour and maybe write. I sorta don't want to write, I sorta want to fuck around and nap, lol. I'm at a bit in Peace-Tied where I'm trying to fold in stuff I wrote ahead that doesn't quite fit now, so that's complicated-- I've been resorting to using two monitors to have the old doc open in a window so I don't have to tab back and forth. But Fit For Thrones is also in an awkward spot where I wrote stuff ahead and like not a lot has changed, but I realized there needed to be a new thread introduced, so I've got to work that in, and I'm realizing a scene I wrote ages ago that was just fluffy and didn't show a lot of character development is going to have to get overhauled to fit the new concept in, which at this point is just a slight complication but later I wanna hang like a whole plot off it, so it's gotta be here-- if I put it in later it won't have any support and might not really properly hold all the weight it needs to, so. And this scene was just fluff anyway and needs more stuff in it. So that's fine. But it's hard. Because of course all I want to do is skip ahead and write the juicy weighty scene this is gonna support. But if I do that (again, as i've been doing a lot in this series, ugh) i'll get there and it won't fit and i'll have to do more of this fiddly kind of work.
I did only miss Friday's update because I was physically too busy at the time, though. It's the wind-down of the farm season but that just means people have started to peel away to do other things, there's not actually a lot less work, and so those of us left are kind of juggling a lot more balls, even if they're less heavy than they were. (more wittering specifically about FFP behind the cut, and a snippet)
So I have a bunch of stuff allllllmost ready to post, but a bunch of tricky work to do for the continuations of them. There has been a spate lately of very nice comments, some rereaders and some new readers, and I appreciate all of you and it keeps me going, really it does.
I can't find the one, though, someone commented on the latest FFT that they thought Morvran might wind up a bit subby perhaps, and I literally cackled out loud. (Someone else was speculating that he's more traumatized/demi/gray than pure ace, which I also have been trying to convey-- he's ace-spec for sure but gray, is where I'm headed with him.)
I don't think Ciri is going to wind up being particularly domme-y in her preferences-- she also would like a pretty lady to push her around please-- but understand she was raised by a bunch of dommes all around, so I had a very early slightly-cracky notion that she thinks this is how het relationships have to work (this did bear fruit in an outside-of-series published work on AO3 thanks to the Smubbles folks, here: What Every Young Woman Needs)-- but there's an excerpt here I haven't quite yet fit into the FFP continuity, which I suppose I'll put here for everyone's delectation (Ciri POV, of Morvran):
He glanced up only briefly at her arrival, flashing her a quick smile but returning to whatever he was writing, clearly intently focused. She propped a hip on the edge of the desk, waiting, and he finished writing the line and looked up at her.  There was something about the way he looked up at her, like this, something open in his expression that usually wasn’t. It sort of made her want to pull his hair, and made her suddenly understand some things about the way her-- Geralt and Yennefer had acted, around one another. She’d always thought Yennefer was perhaps too mean to Geralt, but she could suddenly understand Yennefer’s perspective, and see that maybe it… well maybe it wasn’t being mean.  But. She didn’t know Morvran near well enough to offer to pull his hair.
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sassyandclassy94 · 2 months
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10 Questions for 10 Writers
Thank you SO much for the tag, @coneygoil !! You have no idea how much I love being included in these things🫶🏻
1. Is writing a hobby or a way of life?
Sadly, it’s just a hobby. My life’s kinda too busy to make it a lifestyle
2. A journal full of notes, or a clean completed manuscript?
A clean completed manuscript, thank you very much. Which is pretty ironic, given I’m a pretty chaotic woman.
3. Who (or what) is your writing inspiration?
SwanFire and ThePhoenixFeatherQuill. I went through a Once Upon a Time phase became a huge SwanFire shipper after my first rewatch and one night while I was lying in bed, I looked up SwanFire fanfics. The Phoenix’s masterlist was like, the first or second search result? So I clicked on it when lo and behold! The Spinner’s Son captured my interest. I clicked on it and fell in love. I looked for other medieval AUs but couldn’t find any so naturally, after seeing posts about writing what you went to read, I decided to try my own hand at writing one.
4. Which is worse: Someone you ‘idolize’ reading your first draft or listening to you sing?
Well… I’m not a singer (I sing WITH people sometimes) so, definitely having someone I look up to read my first draft. I remember when Red (an awesome writer who I also look up to and tumblr friend - check out his Into the Woods, it’s amazing!!) told me he checked out Secrets, Lies and Blessings after we met and started interacting during covid. I was mortified and wanted to crawl into a hole.
5. Has writing from someone else’s POV changed your perspective?
Um, maybe….? I delved into OC stuff this year and wrote a fic about Gale Cleven. Two people with totally different personalities and characterization than Baelfire and Emma so, I guess yes? Maybe it didn’t change my perspective but it’s helped me grow as a writer maybe? I don’t know, maybe I don’t understand this question…?
6. Tumblr, AO3, LiveJournal, or FFN?
AO3 and FFN by far!! They’re my favorites and go-tos. I started out on those babies! I think FFN is slowly dying though😔
7. AO3 word count? And are you satisfied with it?
105,744 - No, I wish it was higher. If it was it’d mean I’m more prolific.
8. What movie/book gripped you irrevocably?
Once Upon a Time started my writing hobby. I needed Neal to be happy and I was gonna write that, darn it! But with running out of ideas, writing SwanFire for 6 years straight, and going through a kind of heartbreak, I got really burnt out and kinda stopped for a while. It was The Boys in the Boat and Masters of the Air that inspired me to start writing again❤️ Don and Gale, man! They have a hold on me!!
9. What’s the highest compliment you could ever be given, and have you been given it?
That my writing is better than I give it credit for. And yes, Red told me that four years ago. He said it more articulate than that though (former English teacher and all, lol!) and him saying that made me feel a little more confident in my writing. I’ve gotten some pretty nice compliments about keeping my characters’ personalities true to canon and that’s pretty high praise too because I go real out of my way to do that.
10. What defines your writing style?
I… don’t even know? Even though most of my stories are romance, there’s also a heavy emphasis on friendship because a good old fashioned friendship is important to me (e.g. Emma and Eleanor). Theyre also very emotional. Whether it’s someone falling in love, preparing for parenthood, or suffering from PTSD, I want my readers to feel what he/she is going through and to be able to relate to them on a personal and intimate level.
Tags: Not me racking my brain to think of all the writers who follow and/or engage with me, and/or are in my notes🤕 @phoenixwrites @ljf613 @solo-pitstop-vibes @okieedokes @swanfireprincessmydear @fictional-at-heart @redbone135 @heatherfield @strangethings-everywhere @plasmabluefire @themeepyfreak And whatever other writer sees this and wants to participate, please consider yourself tagged! You can even say I tagged you. I want you all, especially new writers, to be included🫶🏻 No cliques in SassyAndClassy’s house!!! Oh my gosh is that ten??? DID I DO IT???? We won’t talk about how long that took me to come up with all of you🥴 I hope none of you will be annoyed that I tagged you🫣
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