#I just haven’t read a physical book in so long and I’m already sleepy as is

[jerriisspeakingnow]

Not me genuinely falling asleep reading a spicy book.

[lacheri]

Hello Cherry I have a request! Eren always teasing and being a little mean to the reader so she decides to give him a taste of his own medicine (so sorta like a sub! eren x brat tamer! reader) okay that is all ilysm bye bye

hi Kat!! you send me the best prompts 🤤 I hope you enjoy thank you for requesting ily!!!

too much

pairing: sub/brat!Eren x brat tamer!fem bodied reader

content: Eren’s an asshole, established relationship, ruined orgasms, oral (f and m receiving), humiliation/degradation kink, minors DNI.

wc: 3.5k

notes: this is unedited I literally just wrote this up as fast as I could bc this ask drove me WILD

Your fists were clenched at your sides, fingernails digging crescents on the inside of your palms, knuckles white. You were stomping through your shared living room with your boyfriend, curses and swears leaving your lips. Eren had managed to piss you completely off, feelings of humiliation and frustration fueling the fire coursing through your veins.

It all started earlier this morning, waking up next to your sleepy boyfriend, kissing his cheek sweetly. Your half naked bodies wrapped together in a cocoon of blankets, hair messy and eyelids heavy. Usually, Eren would stir awake and return your kisses with enthusiasm, but he had cracked a single eye open this morning, frowned and grumbled, and pushed you off of him. You had pouted, feeling rejected, and immediately flung yourself out of the bed to get ready for the day. When Eren had finally woken up, joining you in your shared bathroom as you brushed your teeth, he made no effort to console you. He saw the wrinkles on your forehead as your eyebrows furrowed together, a tell all sign for what you were feeling. He simply brushed past you, grabbing his own toothbrush and standing right beside you as if he hadn’t been so recklessly ignorant of you.

When the two of you had spit and gargled mouthwash, he cleared his throat, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips, “What’s your deal?”

Your eyes flickered to him for a brief second, and you rolled your eyes and stomped off back to your bedroom to get dressed. Fuck him, if he wanted to start the day off so sour, he was going to get the same attitude back.

Eren followed behind you, smirk still growing, “You’re mad I pushed you away this morning, aren’t you?”

“So you did it on purpose?” you couldn’t hide the hurt in your voice, back facing him as you searched through your closet. You really had intended to ignore Eren for a while, letting him stew in your cold shoulder treatment, but he always knew how to crawl under your skin and get a rise out of you.

“Just wanted to see how you’d react,” he teased, coming directly behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder, arms crossed on his bare chest. “I was right.”

Fury licked flames up your throat and you stepped forward, throwing your boyfriend off balance. You didn’t want to play whatever game he was trying to set up, you had things to do today besides bend to Eren’s will. Hearing his response, it drove motivation into the pits of your mind that Eren was not going to get a reaction out of you anymore today.

However, he had other plans.

Today has been your day off from work and school, as well as Eren’s day off. The plan was to straighten up the house, invite your friends over in the evening and order pizza. Nothing too crazy or over the top, just a nice relaxing day.

Things didn’t quite work out that way. After the two of you had gotten dressed and made breakfast, every single time you tried to clean an object, Eren would somehow get in the way. He pulled books of the bookcase and left them on the floor or any surface he could find, managed somehow to fill the sink with dirty dishes, not rinsing them off to put in the dishwasher, and found every article of clothing between the two of you to toss on the bedroom floor. The hour long cleaning session had turned into the entire day, long enough that you had to text your friends that tonight wasn’t going to work out.

Because every time you made progress in your small home, Eren would find another thing that got added to the list. As much as it infuriated you, mostly because Eren was supposed to be helping you, you couldn’t let it phase you. No, you knew he was trying to piss you off. You weren’t going to crack under his pressure, not give him the satisfaction of seeing you wound up and upset.

The last straw had snapped when he walked into the living room, seeing you pick up the last book he had thrown on the floor, and opened his stupid mouth.

“Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning?” Eren spat. “This house is a complete disaster.”

Your eyes flickered incredulously to the wall clock, six o’clock it had read, your entire day wasted away, “Are you fucking serious right now?”

You searched for a hint of playfulness in his expression, seeing nothing but his stone cold eyes piercing into you as he spoke without hesitation, “I’m entirely fucking serious. How are we supposed to have company over if you can’t clean a fucking house?”

“Already cancelled,” you fumed, standing up from your crouched position, leaving the book on the floor. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that?”

“You. What? Do you need me to use your name at every sentence whenever I talk to you?” Eren kept edging, a feel of gratification consuming him upon learning his friends weren’t coming over anymore. “How am I supposed to marry someone who can’t fucking clean?”

You felt sharp pangs of hurt in your chest, eyes losing their spark, “Eren, that’s mean. Why are you being so mean today?”

He had only smirked, reveling in your mood switch. In the silence shared then, he announced he was getting a bath, he had such a hard working day and wanted to relax. He had left you in the living room alone, and you felt the anger inside of you bubble up, threatening to go over. You snapped, heading straight to the bathroom where you could hear the flow of water into the tub stop.

The door slammed against the wall as you threw it opened, seeing Eren jump slightly at the impact. His hair flowed down to his shoulders, arms stretched out against the rim of the tub, and in any other situation you’d be crawling into the water with him. He’d be so sweet about it too, bringing you to his chest and giving you kisses while you giggled at the attention. Hell, he’d probably even shower you in compliments and appreciation. Not today though, his eyes hardened as you stopped right in front of him.

“Out, now,” you ordered through clenched teeth. You could hear Eren’s breath kick up, but he didn’t move. “Are you deaf? Get out, now, Eren.”

His body moved before his mouth could protest, standing stark naked in the shin deep water. You could see the steam rise off of his skin, your eyes trailed downwards. Although soft, his dick was still impressive, but the longer you stared at the fleshy member, it twitched and rose a bit. You quirked an eyebrow, realization dawning on you. Oh, so this was why Eren was acting like this today?

You made eye contact with him then, his legs shifting over the rim of the tub, before standing directly in front of you. Your hand whipped up to the back of Eren’s head, fisting his hair, and yanking his head back, exposing every line and vein and bulge in his throat.

“This what you wanted? Wanted to get me all angry so I could take it out on you?” Eren’s dick was rock solid, giving you a physical answer, but you still needed the verbal one, “Answer me.”

“Yes,” he choked out, and his Adam’s apple bobbed along his throat.

“Well it fucking worked. I have half a mind to leave you here, like this, to take care of yourself,” you pulled his hair further, a gasp leaving his parted lips.

“No, please, don’t,” Eren’s voice came out whiny as he begged. You smirked, although he wasn’t able to see it as his eyes faced directly up to the ceiling.

“You’re going to drain this tub,” you began to instruct, tilting his head so his eyes trailed to your hard set ones. “And then you’re going to dry off, and go lay flat on your back on the bed. Do you understand me?”

He nodded feverently, happy you released your grip as his neck had begun to ache. You smoothed that same hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble underneath your fingertips, “Good boy.”

Eren set to work quickly, giddy with excitement. This had been his plan all along, to get you riled up enough to take it out on him. Genuinely, Eren hadn’t meant to start this at all today. When you had kissed him awake, he was having a really good dream he didn’t want to wake up from quite then, and hadn’t meant to push you away. Upon seeing your sad pout, followed by a flicker of anger in your orbs, something stirred within Eren. He began to question, just how far could he push you until you caved in?

Eren didn’t stick around to watch the tub fully drain, he was dried off and on the bed just as you had requested. You leaned against the wall, clad only in your bra and panties, and you watched him with hungry eyes as he followed your every instruction. Your boyfriend was a beautiful man, every part of him intriguing and gorgeous to you. He looked like a Greek God, arms and legs spread out, the subtle light from your bedside lamps casting shadows across his abs and into the V of his pelvis. Eren had a beautiful cock as well, thick and long and veiny, it sat perched on his lower abdomen, twitching as you pushed yourself off the wall to loom over your man.

“Look at you,” you mused, letting a dark chuckle vibrate from your chest. “You’re already hard and I haven’t even touched you yet. You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you baby?”

“Yes,” he answered. The skin on his cock was so taut and tight, feeling somewhat light headed as all the blood was rushed to his member.

“You know I’m going to have to punish you, right? For being so mean to me today?” you batted your eyelashes, crawling on to the bed, sitting on your knees by his side, refusing to touch him just yet.

“I know,” Eren whined, trying to reach out to touch your thigh only to be met with the harsh slap of your palm. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” you cooed in false security, brushing Eren’s hair out of his beautiful face. “But that’s okay, you’re gonna’ make it up to me, right now.”

You traced the outline of Eren’s plump lips, resting your forehead against his as you muttered in your darkest voice, “I’m taking away your right to touch me. Convince me you’re sorry, and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

Eren squirmed under the heat of your words, eyes darting across your face for a hint of a lie, of hesitation. He found nothing, only the glimmer of lust in your eyes as you gazed down at him. Your fingers pushed past his soft lips, and he needed no instruction to latch on and suck. If this was the only touch he would get of you, your fingers pumping into his mouth, scissoring his tongue, he’d take it all so greedily to make you regret putting these rules in place. He never broke eye contact, curling and circling his tongue between your pointer and middle fingers, imagining they were the divine petals between your thighs. You were doing the same, feeling the gush of arousal slicken you. You tapped his tongue, signaling a release. He parted his now swollen lips easily, eyes pleading.

“Can I kiss you at least?” Eren rasped, his hands twitching at his sides.

“No,” you placed a contrasting sweet kiss to his forehead in your dark tone. “That would be touching, sweetheart.”

Eren held back a whine, knowing it was futile. He was simply going to have to lay there, and take whatever punishment he had coming, unable to escape it or bring you pleasure amongst it all. If there was a glimmer of hope, it was crushed as he felt your face travel down to his neck. You were in complete control, just as Eren had wanted.

You sucked and licked at his throat, your dry hand coming up to squeeze what skin you weren’t kissing. You trailed your lips down, kissing his entire torso. As much as you wanted to spend the time working Eren up, you had ideas swirling in your head. Eren had no patience with you today, so you weren’t going to have patience with him. Besides, it was sort of cruel to not pay immediate attention to his swollen cock.

Your hand slicked in his saliva wrapped around the base of his length, a sharp intake of breath heard from Eren’s lips. It came out shaky as you began to pump, his precum oozing from his tip and meeting the warm wetness of your fingers. You twisted your hand up and down, beginning to feel the moisture rub away, his spit drying. This was no good, and you continued to kiss down his stomach until your lips met the head of his reddened cock. He hissed as you spat on it, hand spreading it all over. Your tongue slipped past your lips, kitten licking at his tip. Eren couldn’t think straight, and he settled his hands above him to try and keep his grip as far away from you as he could.

It was nearly impossible to not grab your hair and slam you down as your sweet lips parted and you began to suck his fat tip. Eren succeeded though, knuckles white gripping pillows, and he heaved out a groan. You swiped your tongue along his slit, tastebuds soaking up his salty precum. You prodded in just a little bit, sending a shiver up Eren’s spine. Your hand still doing most of the work, you thought you’d up the game by throwing your other hand in the mix. Eren let out a high pitched moan, throwing his head back at the onslaught of attention.

“It’s so fucking cruel I can’t touch you,” he whined yet again, craning his neck to meet your eyes.

You popped your mouth from his head, “I guess I’m going to be downright evil after what I’m about to do.”

Before Eren could respond, your hands moved to his thighs and his cock was swallowed into the back of your throat. He couldn’t stop the noises he was making as you bobbed your head unbelievably fast, sucking him more and more until your nose buried into the neatly kept curls above his shaft. You were trying your hardest not to gag, your throat entirely full, and Eren was trying his hardest not to cum on impact. You pulled back a bit, tears blinked back from your eyes, and returned a single hand to work what you couldn’t reach.

Eren’s thighs tightened, his breathing hitching, “Fuck, I’m getting so close.”

At this reveal, your pace only quickened, full intentions of bringing him to his utmost height. Your cheeks sucked harder, tongue lapping the underside of his length, and you were covered in your own spit. Sloppy and messy, just how Eren liked it. How you seemed to like it, as well.

“Right there, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Eren called out alongside your name, hips bucking into your mouth. Your other hand met the swell of his balls, feeling them tighten up as his release was right there. As Eren let out the first whine to signal his climax, you yanked your hands away and slipped your mouth off with a pop.

He spasmed, too far gone to stop. His dick stood tall, shooting his load onto his stomach, throbbing so hard and so uncomfortably that tears rolled down Eren’s cheeks. You had ruined his orgasm. His cock was leaking clear fluid, his body frustrated with the lack of contact, entirely unsatisfied. His jaw slacked open, eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at you in disbelief.

“That’s what you get for trying to piss me off all day,” you growled, wiping the spit from your mouth with the back of your hand. “Stay right there, Eren.”

You got off the bed, reaching into your bedside table to pull out two objects — a tiny vibrator and a suit tie. You yanked Eren’s hands up, tying them to your headboard. You undressed yourself quickly, revealing your naked body to Eren’s greedy eyes. His dick hadn’t softened, still painfully erect and needy as he subconsciously bucked into the air. You didn’t comment, knowing how bad Eren wanted you and your attention back to his pulsating member. You threw your thighs around his neck, straddling the lower half of his face.

“You want me to touch you?” Eren nodded, tears still pooling in the corners of his eyes. “Make me cum, and I’ll return the favor.”

Easy enough, Eren thought, lolling his tongue out for you to place your glistening folds on. You sat down fully, letting out a moan as your hips circled his mouth, your hands latched into his hair. Eren heard the soft click of the vibrator in your hands, and moved his south south, knowing exactly what it was you were searching for.

You gasped as his tongue penetrated your tight hole, walls fluttering around his wet muscle as you slid the vibrator right up to your clit. If Eren had only had his hands, you wouldn’t need that little toy to satisfy you. He’d be doing all the work, bringing you all your pleasure up to your climax. All Eren’s work, but you didn’t want him to have that satisfaction.

Because this was you, and you were in full control, there was absolutely no point in teasing yourself. You were rewarding yourself, Eren just happened to be a part of the ride, literally. You thought of all the mean words he had said to you today, all the teases and inconveniences. Your hand in his hard gripped harder, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood as you tried to level your moans.

“You pissed me off so fucking bad today,” your head was thrown back as Eren fucked you with his tongue, your hips pressing down harder. “You were so mean. Now look at you, pathetic. Letting me fuck your face like the little brat you are.”

Eren felt his cock twitch, feeling similar waves of humiliation you had felt today. He knew better than to speak, instead, thrusting his tongue even harder into your entrance to show his response. You were right, he had wanted to feel completely powerless under your wrath, wanted you to use him as if he was disposable, to punish him. When he felt your hand leave his hair, feeling the harsh sting of a slap on his chest behind your ass, he was grateful. This is all he wanted, tears brought to his eyes in pure joy.

Your nails dug into his peck, your orgasm fast approaching, “Oh my God, you’re such a good boy, keep going. Oh fuck, Eren I’m about to cum.”

Eren felt pure pride and love swell in his body, ruined by a cold chill of blinding pleasure. No, no, he was not going to cum with no contact, surely? His scrotum tightened, eyes slamming shut. You were going to be livid when you saw the mess he was creating.

Eren’s cock shot thick white ropes into your back, yes, from that far away. It was just all too much, the degradation, it was like your words had been stroking him up the entire time. His body vibrated, but he forced his eyes to open to watch you fall apart above him.

Your wrist flicked fast with the vibrator in hand, feeling your walls clench and tip over the edge. You screamed breathlessly, pushing your entire lower half into Eren’s mouth. Eren could feel the tingle of your toy against his nose, a small goofy smile on his lips as he thought of how funny it would be if he sneezed. You pulled it away quickly though, mind coming back together as you began to worry about how hard you had pushed into his face. Your orgasm slowed, walls contracting at a much lazier pace, and you lifted your hips.

“Good boy,” you praised, eyes full of love as you reached up to untie his hands. “You did such a good job, baby.”

You hadn’t noticed what Eren had done until you felt a cold brush against your lower back and ass. You hand circled around, feeling the wet sticky spots, and your jaw dropped.

“Eren, did you cum from just eating me out?”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he was pleading, shying away from your widened eyes. “Was too much.”

Eren thought you would’ve been furious, instead, a soft laugh echoed in your chest. You moved off of him, laying on your stomach to place a sweet kiss to his lips. He eagerly returned it, happiness tickling throughout his entire body. When you pulled away, you rested your head on his shoulder while his arms circled your waist.

“That’s the hottest thing ever,” you admitted, curling a strand of his hair in your finger.

“I’m going to piss you off more often,” Eren joked lightly, kissing the tip of your nose. “I like this side of you.”

“Please, Eren, don’t. Next time you want me to top, just fucking ask me.”

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

[cheegu3]

yooo i just thought of something else i don’t know where i’m getting these ideas from and i’m sorry if i’m being super annoying you don’t have to write it or you could wait like six years to write it if you don’t want to right now but i have another idea for yandere jay 🥴🥴

basically his s/o tries to be saved by pretending to order pizza for them but actually calls the police and tries to tell them her situation by pretending to order pizza, but he figures it out and stops her 😶

sorry if i’m pressuring you by bombarding you with ideas you don’t have to write them if you don’t want to 😭 you’re a queen and i hope you have a good day :)

Noo it’s okay cutie I only appreciate you!! I hope u have a good day too ;-; also sorry for lowkey writing smut again and then soft asf lmao

~ Trapped pt. 4 - yandere Jay ~

sooo i’ve like finally figured out how to end the series, can’t drag it out forever. Buuuut I can’t spoil wether it’s a happy or sad ending just throwing it out there :p

TW / trigger warning: yandere themes, abusive relationships, violence, gore, blood, murder, cursing, sexual themes

word count: around 2k

Summary: y/n is a stupid ass bitch who won’t give up

“ Get off me! “ you shrieked, still trying to kick him off. You heart was already beating a thousand times per minute thinking of his punishments that would follow this time. They only got worse as time went on. And now that he knew your soft spot, you were fucked.

You were met with a blank face when you were turned over to lay on your back. He was still holding your wrists in a firm grip but his expression baffled you.

‘‘ You’re..you’re not mad ‘‘ your voice sounded small, ready to flinch at the slightest movement in order to protect yourself.

‘‘ It was a fun game. That’s all it was ‘‘ he responded and got up, pulling you up with him and heaving you over his shoulder.

‘‘ Hey! Let me down ‘‘ you shrieked.

‘‘ Behave ‘‘ he hit your butt which made you shriek again and from your place you could see that he had started to move. The world was bouncing up and down. Your boyfriend went up the stairs and then towards your shared bedroom, throwing you down aggressively on the bed. 

You held your breath and watched him pace back and forth in the room, still with a blank expression on his face.

‘‘ My punishment? ‘‘ you said slowly, like a question thinking that it’d be better to just get it out the way.

‘‘ You won’t get one this time- ‘‘ you looked up at him in surprise having stared at your hands ‘‘-BUT, if you try even the smallest thing I will make you feel pain like nothing you’ve felt before ‘‘ he smirked, knowing that it would probably happen very soon and the thought of punishing you again turned him on.

‘‘ I haven’t seen you cry in a while ‘‘ he suddenly said, lost in his thoughts and you saw the growing bulge in his jeans as he said this making you feel disgusted but also well..intrigued. You couldn’t deny that he was good looking he looked almost ethereal having his back turned gazing out into the garden through the window. His shoulders were so...

No stop stupid y/n! you thought to yourself and physically gave yourself a light smack on the head. You suddenly realised what he had said.

‘‘ What? ‘‘

He turned to you and sat down on the edge of the bed.

‘‘ Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t be long until I do...’‘ Jay was speaking more to himself now than to you and when he trailed off he put his hands up to your face slowly stroking your cheek.

You smiled at his rare display of affection willingly letting yourself get pulled into a hug.

‘‘ I love you ‘‘ he whispered and rested his chin on your shoulder like a little kid clinging onto its mother.

‘‘ I love you too ‘‘ you ran your fingers through his hair.

You two sat like that for a while. It was peaceful like this, only the sound of your breathing filling up the room. Without noticing, he had pulled you down on the bed and now he was more holding you than you were him. The sleepiness had crept up on you and when he noticed, he started rocking you a little bit giving soft kisses to the top of your head. You tried so desperately to keep your eyes open but failed and the last thing you felt was the kiss of the person who loved you most.

When you woke up it was dark outside, assuming it was evening and you had just taken a nap. You listened for sounds and caught a few voices and clattering. The possibility of it being food made your stomach growl loudly so you made your way out of the bedroom. On the top of the stairs you saw that the dining table was decorated, several dishes peeking your interest. Jay was sitting on the chair on the furthest end facing the stairs. He was expecting you and gave you a warm smile when you met his eyes and made a gesture to the seat next to him.

‘‘ Morning sleepy ‘‘ you hurried down the stairs practically running and sat down next to him.

‘‘ Ha ha ‘‘ you said sarcastically and poked your tongue out at him.

Not giving it a second thought you started diving in not noticing your boyfriend watching you closely.

‘‘ What do you want to eat for dinner? I have some work to do, from home ‘‘ he asked once you had basically cleared the whole table, saying the last few words sharply. He could only refer to when you’d tried to escape when he was away at work...twice.

‘‘ Pizza ‘‘ you tried to ignore his tone, clearly he was still pissed and thought you would try it again.

‘‘ You call when you’re hungry yeah? ‘‘ he stood up and waved at one of the guards who called in a server to clear the table.

You only nodded and suddenly it dawned upon you. Another escape opportunity. He had told you to call which means that you could try the pizza method when you’re calling 911. Only what he said next would prove to be a slight hinderance to your plan.

‘‘ But you will have guards following you all day. Don’t try anything ‘‘ he smirked a little and left it at that, walking up the stairs and disappearing into his office.

Dammit

You could still try it, surely you still had a chance?

A hand firmly grasped your arm making you jump.

‘‘ Miss, Jay requested that you be in your room ‘‘

It was a guard, and another one in a black suit joined you on your other side. You felt trapped and so small. 

‘‘ What the hell ‘‘ was all you could whisper out. 

They had started pulling you up the stairs and when by the bedroom door, you were harshly pushed inside and the door slammed in your face. You had tried to turn around and push down the handle but a click sound told you it was too late. They had locked you in. And sure enough when you tried to push it open, the door didn’t move an inch. 

You sighed and laid down on the bed staring up at the ceiling. You imagined that this day would be quite eventless, being locked up in your bedroom like Rapunzel you’d have nothing to do. You spent the day looking out of the window, thinking about freedom, just hating Jay in general, planning your escape, then hating him a little bit more and reading a book while taking a bath. When hours had passed by, as you could see on the large clock hanging above the door, you decided to put your plan into action. Clearing your throat and trying to come off as innocent as you possibly could you leaned against the door and said,

‘‘ Heyy, I’m uh hungry now. Jay said that I could call for pizza. ‘‘ 

Some rustling and grunts were heard, the door rattled and then the lock was turned. You were met with the grumpy face of one of the guards and also...

‘‘ Sunghoon?? ‘‘ you bursted out.

One of your boyfriend’s bandmates was standing there. Real and breathing. You had never met any of them since Jay was very possessive and protective, well more jealous in your opinion. He thought they would ‘’ steal you away from him ‘’. He bit his lip nervously, looking around as if waiting for someone to pop out at any moment.

‘‘ Listen we don’t have much time “

You couldn’t help but feel bad, he looked so stressed but also you were curious. How the hell did he even know about you? From what Jay had told you, no one close to him knew about your existence. The fact that his bandmate was here, talking to you was a mystery in itself.

“ what? What do you mean? “

The only reason you knew it was Sunghoon was because you had memorised all their names, because you were home alone one day and very bored. Jay had been at work and it was safe to say that he was pissed and suspicious of you learning their names, punishing you for it that very night.

“ I will help you escape “ he said as if it was obvious.

You suddenly were aware of the guards’ presence now and came to the realisation that they didn’t care. They were within a distance which meant they would be able to perfectly hear everything that was said. Yet, they didn’t seem worried or angry, maybe he had some good guards after all.

“ How? “ you no longer cared about how he knew about you or your situation. The thought of someone finally helping you even in the slightest way made you excited.

“ The pizza thing, you know that method when you pretend to order a Pizza but you call the police? “ he explained.

“ yes, I was gonna do that “ you answered a bit disappointed, thinking he’d come with something easier or revolutionary.

“ Okay good. I’ll try to distract him, the band is meeting here tonight and I think he had plans of hiding you in this room all night “

You nodded in agreement. Then he gave you a small encouraging smile and looked to the guards, slowly backing away and walking down the stairs. You were alone now and everything was on you, no time for mistakes. When Sunghoon had disappeared downstairs to the library you assumed, one of the guards handed you a smartphone.

Your hands were slightly shaking as you put the number in. The signals seemed to never end, before a spark was heard and a voice spoke, relieving your anxiety slightly. But then, the door to Jay’s office opened which made your heart skip a beat.

He was coming over here, he knew what I was gonna do. He’ll kill me, you thought and swallowed, trying to speak as casually as you could. No one had come out of the office yet but you heard voices from inside.

“ Hi, uh..I would like, I- “ you caught sight of your boyfriend, walking out with two other men behind him and he looked at you. He stopped for a moment turning his back to you and started chatting to the men again.

You cleared your throat, trying to not let the anxiety win. Everything was gonna be okay.

“ I would like to order a pizza “

You sounded a little bit more confident than before but on the inside you were screaming. You weren’t even sure if this was gonna work.

“ What? Ma’am this is the wrong number “

“ No, no no no! “ you shrieked, making Jay turn around and give you a curious look.

“ Oh yeah, the address it’s umm...it’s “

He was still watching you closely, and the fact that he hadn’t turned around to continue to talk was worrying you.

Instead he was moving, straight to you. And when you saw his eyebrows furrow and the look in his eyes you knew that he knew.

Paralysed with fear you couldn’t move and could only watch as he snatched the phone out of your hands. Everything became a blur, the voices fading out but amidst the chaos you could make out what would be the signal of the end of your escape attempt.

“ Yeah sorry. My wife is mentally ill, she often calls 911 to prank call or accidentally thinking it’s another number- “ he continued but you couldn’t hear at all now, only feel the tears that slowly traveled down your cheeks.

You didn’t even feel it when his guards dragged you into the basement as you stared hopelessly into  nothingness. Only realising what was about to happen when the sound of the door being slammed was heard and the darkness surrounded you. Footsteps came closer and closer.

You were terrified. He was coming.

[sashi-ya]

{+18} – Cherry Blossom & Tangerines – Trafalgar Law x Y/n – Part 3

Modern AU. Living in Seoul, SK. Everybody is alive. No spoilers.

Female reader. No physical descriptions. Everybody is +18, canon ages. Chopper is human.

Tw: Mostly SFW. ZoSan. Fluff. A/N: I haven’t had the chance to visit South Korea due to Covid, so everything included is pure research. Excuse me in advance if there is something that’s not 100% accurate! Keep in mind is purely inspired ♥

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31059467

» List of parts: {P1} {P2} {P3} {P4} {P5} {P6}«

Word Count: 4.9K

Law’s slender, soft, skilled fingers played over the silky material of my pyjama shorts. I wrapped my arms around his neck, softly brushing my fingers through his black hair. Our lips still pressed, our senses getting lost on the burning sexual tension that was finally being released.

The soon to be surgeon, slid a hand inside my satin blouse, and grabbed one of my breasts. Caressing it softly at first, but then searching for my nipple to press it firmly in between two fingers.  I moaned his name, almost whispering, after all we were in the kitchen of a house living with ten more people.

Law began to trace a path from my mouth to my neck with sweet wet smooches, mixed with little bites, and I was slowly being taken to heaven, until I heard “Saaaaanjiii, foood!”. I whipped my head to the side and saw Luffy entering the kitchen.

Law and I remained still for a moment, until we realized that this was one of Luffy’s sleepwalks for food. He was technically asleep so he wasn’t aware of us, but the minimum sound could wake him up. So, we gently detached our bodies in silence, until Law had to shout to Luffy to stop. My somnambulist friend was about to hit his face with the fridge door, and Law had to catch him in order to avoid him getting hurt.

I was arranging my clothes quickly when I saw Sanji coming downstairs running and screaming, “Damn Luffy, I heard you shouting my name, what happened?”. The blond cook was covered in sweat and had a little red spot on his neck. I giggled a little looking how annoyed he seemed, but hey, at least Law and I weren’t the only ones who were interrupted.

Luffy finally returned to reality after a few slaps from Sanji and apologized laughing. I couldn’t get mad at him; he is just too sweet. Sanji agreed on cooking something fast for him and began with his work.

“So, guys, what were you doing here?”, asked Luffy pointing at Law and I with his mouth full. I widened my eyes, while thinking for an excuse, but Law spoke first, “I couldn’t sleep, so I came to the kitchen to have some water. Y/n-ya was here having tea, and she offered to prepare some for me, that’s it”.  “Uhum, I couldn’t sleep either”, I said.

Luffy looked at us for a moment, but he quickly believed in our words.

Suddenly, we heard from the stairs Zoro’s sleepy voice, “Oi, nosebleed-kun I’m waiting…”. Law, Luffy and I turned our faces to Sanji, who instantly turned red. I bit my lips trying to stop myself from laughing, but when my eyes met Law’s face, we began to laugh out loud. This was the first time I saw Law laughing, my heart skipped a beat on how gorgeous he looked.

Luffy didn’t catch it at first, but after Zoro entered the kitchen with nothing more than his boxers on, the bell rang on his brain, “oh… hahahaha”.

“Marimo…”, said Sanji mumbling, “Go back to sleep…”. The one-eyed man was now standing still in front of us, probably unable to move, and blushed in his entirety. He simply said “We… we were playing with the Nintendo… uhm it was this idiot cook turn, so…. Uhm, whatever, I’m going back to sleep”. He turned around and almost ran upstairs.

We remained silent and the only sound we could hear was the sizzling sound of the eggs Sanji was cooking.

He turned his back at us and focused on the pan, he was clearly embarrassed, maybe a little sad because of us laughing.

Law stood up, told Luffy to go back to sleep and placed his hand over my shoulder, “Thanks for the tea, Y/n. We can continue our conversation tomorrow”. He said and smirked.

Those words made my body react instantly, a strike of pleasure stung my insides, and the idea of continuing what we’ve started that night installed on me, almost as a necessity.

“Sanji, go back to sleep, I’m sleeping with Luffy and the guys tonight, don’t worry”, said Law and left the room. Luffy followed him.

I waited for them to be upstairs and approached Sanji. “Oi, babe, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh. I’m happy for you two, go back to him. Don’t worry, I’m not saying anything, nor Law, or even Luffy. I’m sure Law is now addressing Luffy at this point. If Zoro or you want to tell us, we will let you do it. Ok?”. I said to my favourite chef, placing my head over his shoulder.

Sanji caressed my hair and finally smiled back at me. “Thanks, Y/n-chan…”. He went upstairs and I put the dirty dishes on the dishwasher. Eventually I went back to bed, and the exhaustion won the fight between my insomnia.

The smell of breakfast made my stomach growl as I was waking up. “Mmm Sanji’s french toasts…”, I mumbled while opening my eyes and stretching my arms. “Good morning, Robin-chan”, I told my friend who had already woken up and was reading a book on her bed. “Good morning, sweetie, did you sleep well?”, she asked, and I nodded back.

Some sun rays were filtering through the big window of our room, we could see the beach and some sailboats on the distance. The sky showed no clouds, it was warm, some sakura petals danced with the breeze and fell to the ground. It was the perfect spring day.

We quickly got dressed and I didn’t even care much about my face. After breakfast I was taking a shower so, I didn’t put too much effort on my image. Robin and I went downstairs and met with the other ones in the kitchen.

Luffy was fighting with Usopp and Chopper for the food, as always. Law was drinking coffee and smiled at me when he saw me enter. Zoro was almost falling asleep over his plate, I guess he had a sleepless night after all… fufufu. Franky and Brook were outside having cola and milk, respectively.

Nami and Vivi come downstairs a few minutes after. Vivi hugged me from behind and scared me, and as she did, my hair uncovered my neck. “Oi, Y/n… what is that on your neck?”, she asked. “What? what do I have?” I started touching my neck in order to feel maybe something. “Is that a hickey?” inquired Nami, almost whispering. Luckily, no one else heard due to the guys fighting. “Nami, shut the hell up…” I sentenced my friend, with my index over my mouth.

“Damn Law, he must have bit me so hard yesterday that now I have a mark…” I thought while covering back my neck with my hair. Suddenly I received a message on my phone. @DrHeartStealer > I’m sorry ;). I looked up to Law and he was looking at me with puppy eyes, that by the way, were fake as hell. He was enjoying this… And I… well… I was kind of too.

“I think last night was a little bit turbulent, right Sanji? Law? Zoro?” Nami, who didn’t want to stop, and that obviously knew everything that happened the night before without even being told, mocked the guys.

“Shut up, baka”, Zoro told her, grabbing his forehead with no energy at all and perhaps affected by the lack of sleep and the hangover. Sanji was more blushed than last night, and Law didn’t show a single emotion, he seemed as if he didn’t give a single fuck about it.

Usopp who had now stopped fighting with Luffy, said “Oi… wait a minute, Sanji, what’s that on your neck?”. I realized Zoro was about to throw a plate at the big nose nosy guy, so I told Usopp to stop only using my expressions.

We finished eating breakfast and decided that today was the perfect day to visit Shinhwa Theme Park. I loved roller coasters and theme parks, so I was super excited to visit the place.

We went to our rooms to get ready when suddenly Nami and Vivi entered mine like a hurricane pouncing on me and demanding me to tell them why I had a hickey on my neck. I couldn’t refuse, so I accepted my destiny and told them of my encounter with Law last night.

Even Robin seemed excited, the girls were jumping and giggling. They were really happy for me, not only because Law seemed like a good catch, but also because it’d been so long since I dated someone.

My girlfriends decided to help me get ready for the park, so they brushed my hair, chose my outfit and even my makeup. I knew I didn’t need all of that, but frankly I enjoyed it, so I didn’t complain at all.

When we arrived at the park, the employees gave us little plastic bracelets and we headed to the first attractions.

I ran to the biggest roller coaster and insisted everyone to come with me, but almost all of my friends refused my invitation right away. “Are you kidding me, Y/n? there is no way I’m riding that huge thing, forget it”, said Usopp.

Luckily, Luffy, who loves new experiences and doesn’t know about fear, agreed on coming with me, as well as Franky. We headed to the short queue and waited for our turn. A few minutes after, Law, who was buying some water bottles when I asked the guys to join the ride with me, approached us saying, “Oi, can I join?”. “Of course, Torao!!” said Luffy, jumping with excitement.

When it was finally our turn, Franky sat with Luffy smirking at Law. “May I sit with you, Y/n-ya?", asked the sexy doctor. "Of course, if you are afraid, you can hug me …", I said, with a defiance expression. "Tsk.. we'll see who gets frightened first…".

“Welcome to the Dancing Oscar! Are you ready to experience extreme fun?! But first, let’s watch the safety rules!”, the safety video began to play on the little screens in front of us. Law and I were sitting behind Luffy and Franky, and as the video finished, he turned to me. “Well, let’s keep you safe…”, he said, coming even closer to my face. Law grabbed the safety restraints that were in between my legs first, caressing the inside of my thighs -that the girls insisted on me showing by using a cute short-, then the ones that were over my hips. He ably fastened them together in the buckle and pulled the belts in order to tighten them real hard. Finally, he tightened the ones over my breasts. I gasped, the pressure, the soft touch of his hands over my skin, the feeling of being taken care of, maybe… even being dominated by him… He was teasing me, and my body was reacting to it. “There, now you are safe”, he said patting my left thigh and smirking.

I closed my legs, pressing my core against the tight straps, mumbling something similar to a thank you.  I was desperate to feel some type of release, and the pressure over my pleasure point was the fastest way. Even though it wasn’t enough.

He secured himself and soon after the ride started.

When the cart slowly approached the highest point took about a minute to finally be released gaining speed faster that I was expecting. Not only me, but also Law, got so scared that we grabbed each other's arms and started shouting. Something flashed my eyes, but I was so scared that I didn’t even think of what it was.

After experiencing the adrenaline of the loops and the ups and downs of the track, it finally came to an end. When the cart finally stopped on the starting point, my heart was pumping harder than ever, my blood pressure was a mess, and my head was spinning. I began to laugh really hard, grabbing my stomach. “Oh, dear Lord, it was amazing!!!” I screamed, Luffy and Franky followed me, while Law looked at me regretting the moment he decided on hopping on. He was pale and seemed as if he were about to throw up.

“Law, are you ok?” I said chuckling. “I am…”. He answered and began to untie the belts.

When we were getting off the ride our friends came to us laughing. “Oi, Y/n, Torao, what is it with your faces? “said Usopp, showing us a photo with the theme park frame of Law and I looking at each other in fear, almost hugging, seconds after the cart began the falling action. “Oh… so that was the flash I saw”, I said while my cheeks turned to fire. Law snickered, grabbing the photo, and said “I’m keeping this one, your face is just too funny”. I looked at him frowning, but I couldn’t deny he was right, after all. Plus, him wanting to keep a photo of us made me feel all bubbly inside.

The day went by with us having fun, riding attractions, buying souvenirs, taking photos. Our cheeks were really sunkissed, as well as our shoulders. The night came, and we were ready to enjoy the firework show the park offered every night.

Everybody gathered in the centre of the park and the brilliant lights drew pretty images over the sky, the soft sea breeze refreshed my cheeks. My friends were smiling, having fun. I could see Zoro and Sanji looking at each other with a love expression on their eyes, Vivi and Nami holding hands, Robin placing her head over Franky’s shoulder. Love was in the air, and it felt wonderful.

I kept enjoying the light show, when suddenly Law approached me from in between the crowd and subtly grabbed my pinkie finger with his. Softly, without taking our sight from the fireworks, I grabbed his whole hand. And we remained like this, holding hands, with a smile on our faces. My heart beating quickly, and soon the feeling of butterflies in my stomach followed. “Is this… more than sexual attraction?” I thought, but quickly decided to stop thinking and simply indulge on the moment. 

The show ended and we let go of our hands. Our friends and we walked to the parking lot and headed back home.

We were so exhausted that we went right to our bedrooms and threw our bodies into our beds. Soon I had the idea of texting Law, and so I did. I grabbed my phone and sent him, “@SunflowerDr > have a good night, sleep well. Remember we got a “conversation” pending…xoxo.” A few minutes after he answered, “@DrHeartStealer > have a good night, doll. I got an idea for tomorrow, we could continue our conversation there…, sleep well”.

“Did he just call me “doll”?” I bit my lower lip wondering about his idea and my body burned in anticipation for the next day.

I passed out soon after until next morning.

The day seemed a little cloudier than the day before, and Nami, who was about to get her degree in meteorologic science, told us that probably a storm was coming to the island at night. So, we thought about a good plan for the day, and Robin suggested visiting “Manjanggul Lava Cave”. Jeju is a volcanic island and the lava flow from the volcanoes had created caves or “lava tubes” on certain places of the island that now are solidified. Who else could suggest visiting a cave more than our archaeologist friend?. We agreed on visiting the place and after breakfast, we quickly drove there.

We all submerged on the underground cold dark caverns. A little train inside the cave took us to the deepest point. Blue, purple, pink lights illuminated the stone pillars and stalactites that were widely spread through the tunnels.

“God, I’m kinda cold, aren’t you?” I said to Chopper who was walking next to me. “Yeah, that’s why I told you to bring a jacket, dummy”, he said to me and was about to give me his jacket when Law appeared from behind saying “Don’t worry Tony-ya, I’m a little hot. Here, take my jacket Y/n-ya”. He took off his black coat and put it on over my shoulders.

Chopper giggled a little and told us that he would be going ahead to take some pictures of a specific rock called the “Stone Turtle”.

We were left alone once again. The ambrosial scent of his coat invaded my senses, a sweet perfume with notes of tangerine, ginger and perhaps a little amber mixed with some marine breeze was the perfume Law probably used every day. I revelled on the smell and kept walking in silence next to him.

Suddenly a few bats appeared flying from a dark spot and I got scared as hell, so I jumped over Law. He held me tight to avoid us falling.  “Don’t worry, they won't hurt you, I read at the entrance that some rare animals live in the tunnel, such as these bats”, he said to me with a calming voice while grabbing me tight in between his arms.

I looked up to him with a pouty face and he smiled at me with cuteness. I wished we could have stayed like that a long, long time, but sadly Usopp, Brook and Chopper came running, escaping from more bats chasing them. “Ahhh get away!!!”, “Ruuuuuun for your liiiiveeees”, “Robin where the hell did you bring us?, yohohoho”. (The bats were obviously being chased by Luffy…).

We separated as my terrorized friends passed in between us. And began to laugh as they kept running to where Nami was. That only meant one thing… a few bumps on their head.

A few minutes after, Sanji started asking us if we had seen Zoro. Of course, we haven’t, he was lost once again. On a big cave, full of tunnels that were almost a kilometre long each.

We spent almost half an hour searching for Zoro, until Robin found him. “Marimo, you have no sense of direction!! I told you not to separate from us!!”, shouted Sanji to the green hair boy, trying to cover how worried he was for him. “Oi, idiot cook, I didn’t get lost, you did!”.

We finally left the cave and returned to the surface. Outside it was warmer enough for us to head to our next destiny, the Sanbangsan mountain hot springs. We only had to drive a few kilometres to get there.

The girls and I were pretty much excited because we could show off our new bikinis, so we got changed into them and headed to the natural pools of thermal water. The boys were already inside, enjoying the warm bubbly water.

“Look at these sexy ladies!, wanna be our friends?” said Franky joking around while helping Robin to enter the pool.

A few beads of sweat ran through my back, but I didn’t know if I was feeling hot due to the steamy water or because of the image of Law half naked, exposing his whole tattooed chest, with his head thrown back, eyes closed and his hair wet.

I fixed my eyes on his anatomy, the well-defined abs, the tattoos on his arms, how his fingers played with the water around him.  I dreamt with open eyes of how I wanted to travel with my tongue all over his tanned skin, every little mark he had, any spot.

Law opened his eyes, and still with his head thrown back, gave me the sexiest look accompanied with a little laugh, “heh”.

If we were alone I might have jumped over his lap and fucked him right there.  “Oi, Y/n!!”. A voice pulled me out of my dreaminess. “What is it Nami?” I asked my friend who was flailing me by my arm. “You two should go and fuck right now, we are getting a little bit uncomfortable with all of that sexual tension you both have”, reprimanded me my redhaired friend. “Shut up…”.

We stayed there chatting and relaxing more than two hours, the sun was setting, and the cloudy sky showed precious colours.

I decided that I should go take a shower to rinse the sodium out of my skin on the community showers of the complex. I had planned the way I was going to stand up, trying to show my “sexy ass” to Law, for the last half hour.  So, I executed my plan almost perfectly… and said almost because when I decided to walk looking at Law over my shoulder I slipped with some sort of slippery substance on the rocks. I almost felt but while trying to keep balance I got a sprained ankle.

Law and Chopper ran to save me, as the good future doctors they were, but I wished I had killed myself. The embarrassment invaded my body… damn.

“You only have a sprained ankle, Y/n-ya, don’t worry with some ice and ibuprofen you’ll be good in no time”, said Law softly examining my ankle.  My eyes were teary, my cheeks red and everyone was trying to hold their laughter. Vivi approached us and told Torao to bring me home first, so I could put some ice there, and as she said so she winked an eye at me. Damn Vivi, she knew me more than anyone there. I realized that   I have created unintentionally the perfect excuse to be alone at last with Law, and she was helping me.

Robin brought me a towel and I tried to stand up, but my foot hurt more than I thought, “Auch, auch, auch…”. Law didn’t hesitate and carried me in his arms bridal style to his car.

“Be careful, don’t hit your head”, Law said while helping me sit on the front seat of the yellow car. I wasn’t speaking, I was too embarrassed to even say thank you.

He started the car and began to drive down the mountains through the winding road. Ahead, a breath-taking landscape was shown. The sun slowly disappeared in between the mountains, and the lights of the city defined the coast. The sky was now fully covered in stormy clouds, and a few lightings began to show in between the menacing cumulonimbus above us.

“Finally, alone”, said Law breaking the silence. I looked how focused on the road he was, worshiping his profile, the piercings on her ear, the muscles on his neck. I plucked up courage and asked, “do you still have the idea you told me yesterday over text?”. “I do, plans might have changed a little, but I think we could still make it, do you trust me?”, he said.

I wanted to know about what was going to happen, but the thrill of it being a surprise, letting him lead the way made me accept right away, “I do, lead the way doctor”.

We finally arrived at the city and the surgeon parked the car without turning the engine off. He grabbed his phone and searched something. The GPS immediately began to give directions to a specific address, so he got back to driving. “Wait a second, do you want something special?, I’m buying you some anti-inflammatories for your ankle”. “Oh thanks, uhm nothing else” I told him while he unfastened his seat belt and got out of the car.

Some minutes later, he handed me the analgesics and a bottle of water. While drinking from the bottle I could see from the corner of my eye how he quickly put away something on the glove box.

I was still using my bikini and a towel to cover me, so I asked Law if he could help me reach my bag from the back seat to put on a dress. He agreed and passed me the backpack, and then helped me put the dress. He also put on a clean shirt over his swim shorts.

“Are you hungry? What about a spontaneous dinner date?”, he said rubbing his thumb over my cheek. I smiled, satisfied, because after all his plans weren’t simply fucking. “Do you prefer something fancy or something more private?, I’m not trying to be cheap, it’s just that if we decide to go somewhere fancy we should come back home to get dressed properly”. Even if I were dressed like a princess I wouldn’t have chosen the “fancy” restaurant.  Truth was that I didn’t want to waste any time, I didn’t want more interruptions, I wanted to be alone with him.

“I prefer something more private. We can go to this place on the beach, it isn’t luxurious, but I saw some photos on my phone”, I said to him while searching for the place web page on my phone. He smiled while looking at the screen of my cell phone. He seemed happy with my choice, and I could see why. He was a quiet and reserved man, so this place was perfect for our “first date”.

We drove to the location and left the car on the parking lot next to the pretty little restó. The intensity of the pain in my ankle was now pretty low so I was able to walk normally. Law, though, told me he would help me and grabbed my arm, so we walked together at the entrance.  I don’t know if it was because of my sprained ankle or simply just an excuse for physical contact. In any case I was happy about it.

A maître that reminded me of Sanji welcomed us inside and took us to a little table next to the sand over a wooden deck with warm yellow lights strips, garnishing the also wooden roof.  In the distance, over the horizon, the moon was vaguely peeping through the stormy clouds. Nami’s predictions for tonight seemed to be a few hours away to come true.

A tall, slim waitress came to us and asked if we had already chosen our food, without taking her eyes off Law. She was clearly trying to flirt with him, and I was burning inside… I got jealous, really jealous. Yet I couldn’t say anything, after all this was our first date. Law calmly gazed at me and told the maiden “My beautiful girlfriend and I will have two bowls of bulgogi”. Wait, what?... beautiful girlfriend?...

The waitress gave me a dirty look and walked away. “Ha, suck it, he is mine!”. I thought and giggled. I preferred not to ask about him calling me “his girlfriend”, but instead I changed the topic. We chatted a little bit about our careers, specialities and about surgery. Despite the unfriendly appearance he radiates, talking to him was easy, I felt as if I have known him for years.

We finished our plates and decided to leave the place. He opened the car door for me and helped me to get inside. To be honest I had forgotten about my injured ankle at that point, but he was still taking care of me in a chivalrous way. Mr. Donquixote raised him well…

“Let’s go to the beach”, he said in an adventurous tone. The storm was then over us and at any moment the rain could start, so I told him, a little confused, “It’s about to rain, are you sure?”. “I am, trust me. You won’t get wet… at least not for the rain”, he said smirking. I squirmed a little with those words, he sounded so sexy…

He drove along the boulevard next to the beach. Suddenly, he parked the car. “We are here, let’s go”, he said. He held my hand and softly pulled me leading the way through a little path over the sand made out of wood.

The path led to the entrance of an old lighthouse. A few raindrops began to wet my cheeks when we got to the entrance of the beacon. “What is this place, Law?” I asked him, curious. “My grandfather was in charge of this lighthouse some years ago, then the government built a more modern beacon on the port of Jeju, so my grandfather retired. Yet the commune decided to maintain it as part of the city, and also because I guess my grandad was appreciated by the people of Jeju.” I saw a copper commemorative plaque with the name “In loving memory of Mr. Trafalgar Law”. “You have the same name, how cute…” I told him as he opened the door, and we entered the place to take shelter from the cold rain that started pouring over us.

He asked me to wait at the entrance and headed to the back part of the place. He turned on the lights and I could see how the place had been decorated with string lights, pillows on the floor, some blankets, and a few candles that he began to light one by one. He did this just for me?...

“I… I hope you like it. I don’t know if you are really into romantic stuff. The guys helped me yesterday, while you went to sleep”.  My eyes got somehow a little bit watery, no one has ever made anything remotely similar to this for me, it was just perfect.  “I love it, Law. This is so perfect…”, I said and ran to him -my ankle did hurt a little, but I didn’t really care -. “Careful…” he said, receiving me with open arms.

I softly planted a kiss on his lips, and slowly we sat over the pillows. He grabbed my face with his hands and stopped kissing me just to look into my eyes. My back slowly approached the pillows and now I was laying there with Law settled over me...

Part 4

[keilemlucent]

steaming

(r18+)

pro hero! todoroki shouto / reader

ao3

word count: ~3.8k

You and Shouto have been busy as hell and haven't seen each other much, but a 'relaxing' (read: horny) trip to an onsen is sure to remedy any and all lost time

warnings: pro hero shouto, onsen sex (please do not fuck in onsens im begging u please learn etiquette for onsens too), temperature play, a little bit of insecure reader well

this is a piece for the fanfic event yagami yato server i’m apart of! the theme for this month was an onsen getaway so here u go! hope y’all enjoy ;^)

The onsen trip was one that Shouto had been particularly excited about. It was a small place in Akita, far away from the drone of the city that the two of you were both accustomed to. 

Both you and Shouto had been working ridiculously hard the past several months, stretching to your physical and mental limits. It had taken a toll in many areas of your shared lives, but a lot of it was on that quality time the two of you were able to spend together. 

Shouto wasn’t particularly clingy, but he was definitely starting ache for you. It had been far too long since you’d been able to relax as a couple. A weekend onsen getaway seemed like the perfect opportunity for both of you to unwind and spend some quality time together. 

Shouto tended to go... overboard. Mostly due to the fact that though he was perceptive, he was also somewhat dense. You’d gotten fairly flustered when Shouto dropped that he reserved the entire resort for the two of you. It was small and family-run to begin with, but still. It felt a little excessive, but part of you was relieved that no public, prying eyes would disturb the two of you.

When the two of you arrived, the resort was surrounded by pretty autumn leaves, all orange and yellow hues that stretched through the rolling hills. 

It was overly relaxing, almost. 

By the time the two of you were able to check-in and settle down, the sun had already begun to set low in the sky. 

You dropped down on the futon in your somewhat small room. The day of traveling had worn you down, leaving a bit of sleepy haze clouding your mind.

“Baby?” Shouto flopped down beside you, pulling you close and burying his nose in your hair. “Are you feeling alright?”

You hummed, nodding, “Yeah, just a bit tired. Do you want to try out the hot springs tonight or wait until tomorrow and get some rest now?”

Based on the way Shouto let out a rolling, deep chuckle, getting ‘rest’ was unlikely, “Let’s try them tonight, hm? Get some of that stress out of your shoulders.”

As if to emphasize the point, Shouto’s lithe hands went to rub at the stiff muscles. You could only press into his touch, practically purring.

One of the cheekier parts of this trip was that the onsen Shouto specifically rented allowed didn’t have any separation of sex. It was more than acceptable for you and Shouto to share the same pool at the same time. Most of the other exceptions that you and Shouto were sure to need had been... ‘ prepaid for’ (read: Shouto bribed the very nice owners who were sure to be kept up long into the night for several days in a row).

Shouto and you did have to separate for the different lockers room to rinse, but that was hardly an issue. If anything, it was incredibly therapeutic to have a few minutes to yourself before the so-called ‘main event’ of the (long) evening.

Shouto had been remarkably busy with hero work. Being one of the top heroes in Japan had been taking a deep toll on him, even if he was amazing at hiding it. You had been busy as well, far busier than usual. Part of you, a larger part than you wanted to admit, was terrified that you and Shouto’s relationship would fall apart due to sheer lack of contact.

The fact that Shouto had somehow arranged an entire vacation behind your back mostly smoothed that fear over, but one still wondered and worried.

As you rinsed yourself down in the locker room spray, scrubbing your body of any bit of scum and dirt that you could. Perhaps you were taking too long— perhaps it was purposeful.

Because you and Shouto had not done anything sexual in what was, in your book, a considerable length of time. 

It wasn’t intentional, the two of you had clarified before leaving, but it still was the cause of a somewhat unbridled wave of anxiety that you couldn’t escape. 

Old insecurities gnawed at you, fear, its swirling relative. 

This was all magnified by the fact that you’d be very naked with your very attractive partner for the first time in a while.

You gulped, shutting off the spigot and toweling off somewhat. With unsteady legs and a half-covered body, you made your way out to the onsen itself.

As you pulled open the door to the outdoor area, you felt the bite of the wind chill the water droplets still clinging to you.

The unpleasant feeling was washed away rather quickly as you took in the scenery. The area was rocky and mossy, leading to a smaller hot spring, bubbling away with steam rising lazily from its depths. Trees ringed the onsen’s outcrop, obscuring any potential wandering glances. It was all lit by soft, warm, modern-looking stringed-bulbs, wound high above.

The best part, of course, was Shouto looking very smitten with you, as he was already submerged.

“I was wondering where you were,” He laughed so easily, beckoning you by tapping the water. 

You could only muster up a half-assed smile, “Would you believe me if I told you I got cold feet?”

You didn’t see his expression as you turned around to walk into the hot spring, incredibly quickly, after removing your towel. 

(If you had been looking, you would’ve seen Shouto’s eyes widen with your words, water losing steam as his ice side fired subconsciously.)

  Admittedly, the water did feel amazing against your skin. The heat of it curled around your body, seeping in your wound up muscles. You audibly moaned as you fell next to Shouto in the water, leaning your head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around your waist, squeezing under the rolling water. 

A moment of calmness passed, the sounds of flora and fauna echoing off the natural stones and tall trees. 

“What do you mean by cold feet?” Shouto asked, eyes flickering down to meet your own. “

“Nothing bad, dear. It’s just...” Your voice trailed off with the anxiety in your chest spinning. You buried your nose in the muscle of his shoulder, a bit embarrassed. “It’s just been a minute, you know?”

Shouto raised an eyebrow, turning to move directly regard you, “I’m not sure I do.”

“Uh,” You stumbled, giving him a wobbly smile. “It’s just been a minute since we’ve, you know—”

“Had sex?” Shouto finished your sentence with his own teasing smile. 

Your face erupted in red, very obviously not from the hot water you both were submerged in. 

You physically lowered in the water, up to your shoulders, “Yes, had sex, Shouto.”

“Why would that make you anxious?” Shouto asked, mirroring your motion, not to give you guff, but rather comfort. 

“You know—” You paused before answering, eyes watching the light churn of the water as opposed to the Shouto’s incredibly focused gaze, “Just like, dumb insecurity stuff. You don’t need to worry about it, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

That made Shouto frown, rough hands grabbing your hips under the water, “I’m glad you’re here with, very glad, but I’d like to help if I can.”

You bit your lip, focusing on the way Shouto’s thumbs pressed and rubbed idle circles on the meat of your hips, “It’s just been a while, and I get scared that you... you know, will feel differently about me than before. In a bad way.”

Shouto was silent, unspeaking, and thumbs stilled on your skin. You knew him well enough to understand that he wasn’t upset, but rather in thought.

Suddenly, you were being dragged through the water onto Shouto’s lap. You yelped, grabbing his shoulders for stability as you ass settled on his strong thighs. With this arrangement, it was difficult to turn away from him as you had been. It was made even more difficult when Shouto gently grabbed your jaw, holding your face level with his own.

You gulped.

“Though I understand your anxiety,” His free hand massaged the bulk of your thigh. “I can thoroughly tell you its unfounded.”

The next moment, his lips pressed into yours. They were petal-soft, but there was force behind it as he moved against you. You couldn’t moaning against his mouth, hands falling against his chest as you moved ever closer.

Shouto seemed to have similar needs in terms of proximity, hand going to palm you ass beneath the water and pull you nearly chest to chest with him.

You broke away with a sharp breath, wetting your lip. Your eyes darted up to meet Shouto’s own, all blown wide in adoration and lust. He chuckled at you sheepishness, pressing kiss after kiss to your face. He dropped them onto the sweat-slicked skin of your cheeks, nose, chin, forehead, and eventually trailed them to your jaw and neck.

“(Y/N), you’ve given me quite the job to do,” Shouto murmured against the soft skin under your ear. 

You sucked in a harsh breath, nails digging into his shoulders, “Yeah? And what job is that?”

He hummed, suddenly licking a quick strip from your throat to the shell of your ear, leaving you with a sharp bite as he whispered, “I guess I just have to show you how I feel about you, with our time apart.”

The hand that had been cupping your ass moving slowly towards your sex, teasingly. Your hips shifted and the prospect, your need already dialed up with lost time. 

“I do feel differently about you, but it’s only positive, I promise,” Shouto assured you, going back to kissing your neck, going to bite and suck at your collar bones. “I just want you more than before.”

It had been so long since he’d been able to mark you up in the way both of you so enjoyed. One of your hands twisted in his two-toned tresses, crying out as he left a particularly dark mark.

“I missed you so much,” Shouto kissed the words into you, using both hands to half-lift and half-force you higher above the water, still straddling him but lifted up on your knees. Your chest was out of the water, nipples hardening in the autumns chill.

“S-Shouto!” You bit out as he palmed at one of your breasts. “Someone could see us!”

All he did was raise a sly eyebrow at you, blowing frosty breath onto one of your nipples, hardening it, and the droplets of water that clung to your chest. You hissed but quickly were soothed as it melted with the steam of the water below, leaving a tingly numbness dabbled across your chest.

You shuddered as Shouto took in his discovery. 

Temperature play was one of your mutual old favorites.

“I’m not too worried about that,” Shouto peppered your chest with kisses as he spoke, leaving a few dark marks on your breasts. They were sure to ache later, and the thought made you wet.

(Could you be wet? You were underwater—)

Any controversial thoughts you had were quickly seized as Shouto’s hand began to massage the inside of your thigh. You keened in the back of your throat, shuddering as his hand was so fucking cold, despite being surrounded by steaming water.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this, baby?” Shouto kissed the words into your chest. He hummed with what could only be satisfied as you trembled in his lap, nodding. 

“I do,” You sank lower in the water, recovering your chest in the process. It was an easy sacrifice as you could now, far easier, reach between your two bodies and gently grab Shouto’s cock. You rubbed your thumb of its head, loving the way Shouto’s stunning eyes closed in what was near rapture. 

You grinned to yourself, giving your own smattering of kisses to Shouto. Lovebites trailed down his neck, sparing not one of his more sensitive spots. Shaking exhaled breaths and soft grunts fell from his lips so beautifully as his hands trailed up and down your back, fisting in your hair when you found a particularly tender spot.

All the while, you pumped his cock at a somewhat tortuous pace. If he was going to get make you twitch for him every few seconds with his frigid hand, you were only going to give him a bit of satisfaction.

Though, that plan quickly went down the drain when his hand drifted closer to your sex, teasing at the apex of your thighs.

You fizzled out a whine, pressing your slick forehead to Shouto’s, watching the way his eyes opened, dilated pupils regarding you in the same way a man starved would.

“Some options,” Shouto breathed again your lips, dulling the numbing use of his quirk, much to your chagrin. “I can fuck your pretty cunt in this hot spring, or I could fuck you over the side, or I could lay you out on that moss—”

You cut him off with a kiss, loving the small noise that came when his words stuck in his mouth. You drew away with the sweetest smile on your face, “Can I ride you like this?”

Shouto’s matched your grin with his own, kissing the side of your mouth sweetly, “Of course. Once I feel you’re properly prepared. It’s been acknowledged that it has been a while, and I’d hate to hurt you at all.”

“Well, at least on night one,” You smirked, reminding him that you still had several more days to go at one and other. 

Shouto rolled his eyes, all affection, before rolling his thumb over your swollen clit. You gasped out a clipped breath as he repeated the motion. You couldn’t help the way your hips rolled in his hands and the way your own tangled in his hair.

The lapse in your sex life truly hadn’t taken away Shouto’s ability to read your physicality. He knew just the right rhythm and speed to take things, having long since committed every inch of your body to his memory.

Like any length of time apart from intimacy would take that away from him. He coveted his knowledge of your body like a god cherishes its domain. 

Truly, he worshiped you in all aways and it was a crime that it had been so long that he had been able to show in. 

Shouto sank two elegant, long fingers into you, a pretty cry falling from lips. You pressed yourself into his neck, already starting to move your hips against his fingers.

“Eager, are we, baby?” Shouto teased, cursing as your hand was once again around his cock, giving it a rough pump or two.

You snickered against his neck between moans, dropping a few kisses on his pulse point, “Like you aren’t.”

His fingers curled just right, alternating between rubbing against the spongy spot in your cunt and stretching his fingers to ease you to open for him. 

You were all lovely, breathy moans for him, idly stroking his cock and dabbling him with slick kisses. You couldn’t do much else, truthfully. The feeling of Shouto’s fingers buried in your heat while being surrounded by heat was something heaven-sent, you were sure of it. It felt especially true as Shouto’s thumb moved back to circle your clit while his other fingers kept at work.

You could feel a rising heat in your gut and all you wanted was more of it. 

But not yet.

“S-Shouto, wait,” You cupped his face, eyes pleading. “I want to come with you, while you’re fucking me, please.”

Oh, what an easy request to oblige. 

Ravenously, he kissed, drinking you down like you were divine ambrosia. All you could do was fall against him, writhing as he gripped his cock on the surface, lining himself up.

Your nails bit into his shoulder as you bore down on the head of his cock, a little whimper sounding from the back of your throat.

It had been awhile. 

Shouto quickly hushed you, thumb going back to your clit as you sank down. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Shouto breathed, resting his head against your shoulder as he bottomed out.

You could only imagine how it felt for him, cock filling you up so well. For you, it felt like your brain was short-circuiting, the way his cock pressing up against your insides was turning you to mush. It had been far too long for both you, your breath matching in the way it shook.

“Fuck,” You managed to curse, readjusting your knees for more leverage. You truly did want to ride Shouto’s cock with every inch of your life, but based on the bruising grip he had on your hips, he wouldn’t stand for you doing much of the work. 

Slowly, you slide up Shouto’s cock, relishing the way how his normally controlled speech devolved into strings of muttered curses. The hand on his ice side kept firing cold on your hip, the odd but pleasant sensation making it all the more difficult to keep your thighs from trembling.

You nearly pulled off him, watching the way Shouto wetted his lips with blown pupils and half-lidded eyes. 

You let the tension of your legs go, slamming back down on his cock. Shouto cried out, hands tensing on your hips and you harshly bottomed out. 

You raised yourself up again, repeating the motion as sounds left your lips, unrestrained. A smug smirk came to your face as you watched Shouto’s blushing face come undone so beautifully.

You sank down on his cock a few more times, grinding whenever he was fully sheathed inside you. The way how his cock head bruised your cervix with each thrust made your insides feel gooey and warm. 

Shouto’s self-control was unmatched, fucking or otherwise. But, you could feel his hands start to twitch around your hips. 

“Baby?” He gritted out as you slide down on his cock once more. 

Your thighs shook from exertion as you wiped your damp hair from your face, “Yes, dear?”

“May I please fuck you proper? As much as I love watching you fuck yourself on my cock, I’m getting a bit—” He ground up into your cunt, angling his hips just right to hit your g-spot. “Impatient.”

You cried out, letting your forehead fall against him, still holding onto a bit of yourself, “So polite, Shouto.”

He thrust up into you again, drawing another sharp moan from you as your thighs shook around his own, “That’s not an answer, baby.”

“Please,” Your words came out half-broken as Shouto damn near smashed his lips into yours.

Without missing a moment, Shouto’s hands fire both heat and nearly unbearable cold. You jolt, hardly able to move due to the nature and strength of the grip he has on your hips. He fucks up into your cunt, adjusting your hips perfectly to smash in your most sensitive parts with familiar accuracy.

Your cunt clenched down around him, the heat of Shouto’s body combined with the hot spring making your head spin. All you could do was press yourself into Shouto’s neck, muffling your sounds and sucking at his salt-slick skin.

“I missed this,” Shouto groaned, bringing your hips down to grind deep on his cock. You pressed your face into his neck, not used to Shouto speaking so much during sex. “I missed your pussy so much, baby. Can you tell?”

When you didn’t immediately respond, mind approaching a fucked out stupor, Shouto took it out himself to pull out, rapidly repositioning the two of you.

You yelped as Shouto put you on your knees where he had just been sitting in the onsen, guiding your arms to rest out of the pool against the rocks and moss. He pressed down on the small of your back, forcing you into a deep arch. Shouto stood behind you, mostly out of the water, panting. 

He pushed into a moment later, hissing the new tightness of your cunt, somehow managing to speak, “Can you tell?”

“Yes!”  You sobbed out, voice shattering as Shouto slammed into you. 

Shouto (somewhat gently) tangled a hand in your hair, the other stabilizing your hips before fucking you with what could only be called reckless fucking abandon. If your sex hadn’t been submerged, the lewd, wet noises would’ve surely echoed over the nearby trees and rocks. 

Not that was really on your mind, nothing really could be except for the overwhelming sensation of Shouto fucking you with every he had.

Your arms scrapped against the rocks below you, but you could hardly care or notice. Your back ached as it was forced into its arch, Shouto slamming you even  better the deeper you curved it. 

your mind truly turned to mush as Shouto leaned over your form, his chest to your back, reaching a hand around to roll over your clit as he continued to pound into you.

“You’re going to come with me, right, baby?” Shouto gritted out, just next to your ear. You nodded with everything you had, pleasure and sensation making your toes numb. 

Shouto’s thrusts became more frantic, panting and grunts joining your whimpers and soft cries. Your entire body felt so fucking hot. Mixing that with your arousal was making your vision black-ringed. 

“I-I’m close, please," You begged Shouto, surrendering to your senses as you laid your head on your arms. “Please!”

“Since you asked so nicely—” You could hear the smirk in Shouto’s voice as he bit at your ear, stroking harder at your clit, and somehow fucking you deeper.

You damn near screamed as you came, vision leaving you as you finally were given release.

Shouto gave his own cry as he fucked you through his own orgasm, filling you with stringy cum with each thrust. 

Shouto panted as he slowed, staying inside you as he pressed a few gentle kisses to your shoulders.

“Baby? You alright?” Shouto asked way too sweetly for the how filthily he had been plowing into you moments before.

“Very alright, just like...” You nodded, body shaking and sweating, turning to face him.

You had to stop speaking, seeing the way Shouto was just beaming at you, two-toned eyes shining in the low light. He noticed, stifling a pure laugh, “Like?”

“I’m mush right now. Mush for you in general,” You gave your own laugh, cutting yourself off with a gasp as Shouto pulled out, leaving you feeling incredibly empty. You almost whined.

Shouto carefully guided you from the hot spring, mindful of the various aches and abrasions. As you exited, you wrapped yourself in your discarded towel, giggling to yourself.

“Something funny?” Shouto asked, raising an eyebrow as he similarly covered up. 

“Nah, not really,” You pulled him with an arm around his neck, planting a wet kiss on his hot, flushed face, just under his scar. “Just thinking about how I have all weekend to show you how much I’ve missed you.”

Shouto just chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and smiling, “I can’t wait to find out.” 

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

A Darcy Day Off

As promised, I present ~6,800 words of a sick, miserable Fitz/willi/am Dar/cy. I’ve been working on this on and off for an embarrassingly long time so I’m glad to finally clear it out of my WIP folder to make room for new things. But honestly, it was a pleasure to write, and I hope some of you take pleasure in reading it as well!

Definitely he first chapter, and honestly the first 2 chapters are mostly exposition, so if you want to skip straight to the sickfic goodness and reduce the word count, head to chapter 3. But I had fun writing (and worked hard on) the banter and conversation in the beginning, so I opted to keep it. 

( @chezsnez @empresskaze @groundcontrol21 you all asked so nicely, so I hope this is what you were looking for! )

1.

“Darcy, dear, what’s keeping you? I thought we were to meet in the library for tea,” Elizabeth called. She found him still in his study, hunched over the desk. She danced to his side, planting a kiss atop his head. He leaned against her briefly in greeting.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I had more business to attend to today than I’d realized. Just finishing up now.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly, then his nose, trying to be rid of a tickle that had been infuriating him all day.

“Always at your work. I wonder our estate isn’t the finest run in Britain. And here I used to think people of high class such as yourself worried for nothing but amusing themselves all day.” She gently rubbed his neck where she knew he always got an ache when he wrote. He kissed her hand fondly.

“You are of such a class, too, now, my love. And how do you know it isn’t the finest? I’d be willing to wager a year’s salary this estate could be measured against parliament’s own estates and be proven worthy, if I have anything to say about it.”

“You pour your very soul into all that goes on here, and it’s one of the many things I adore about you. I am proud every day to be the mistress of such an estate. Only I wish you wouldn’t work so hard and take more time to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

“Are you accusing me of ignoring you, dearest? Only say the word and I would throw all my responsibilities to the winds and devote myself fully to your entertainment.” 

He kept his tone light and playful, teasing her, but looked at her closely even as he did. Had he been neglecting her too much of late? He had had several pressing business matters on his mind these last weeks, and he knew he had been at his desk more than usual. Lizzie had not complained of course, and had been nothing but supportive and helpful, but the last thing he would ever want to do is make her doubt where his priorities lay, namely that she was foremost in his mind and heart, and in all things.

“Not at all, for you well know I’m quite fond of my own company. However, I can't help but worry about you. You put too much responsibility on yourself; you are positively careworn these days. I only wish your more lighthearted side could see the light of day now and again, and not just when we’re alone.”

“I am my truest self when I’m with you.” He kissed her hand again, then rubbed his nose. “I will always struggle being lighthearted while working. The two have never gone hand in hand in my experience; gravity and soberness were expected whilst doing business in my growing years under my father, and others. All the more reason I have need of your influence.” 

She kissed his head again. “Very well, I accept the mantle of helping you find levity in your working hours. If only so that the strain you put on yourself will not affect your health. You put on a casual, careless demeanor in public, but I know better. You bear the weight of the world on those broad shoulders of yours, and that is a burden no man is meant to carry, even by his own choice. So come now, and join your wife for tea. The letters can wait another hour or so, surely.

“Indeed they can.” He stood and stretched stiffly. The chill winter wind howled outside and the sound made him shiver, glad for the roaring heat from the fire nearby, and in every room in the house as he moved to escort his wife to the library. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The couple spent a pleasant hour or two in their favorite room in the house, chatting warmly at times, and sitting in comfortable silence at others. The relentless wind made Darcy feel sleepy and lazy, and he wanted nothing more than to take his wife’s advice and take the rest of the day to relax. He would have been content to remain here for the rest of the evening with his favorite person and simply read and chat and perhaps nap. But he had two more letters that needed to make the post tomorrow, and if he did not finish them now, he never would. He stood quietly and brushed his lips across his wife’s cheek. She nuzzled back, then watched as he lingered before the library fire longer than necessary, warming his hands and rear.

“Are you all right, my dear?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. I’ve developed a slight headache is all, and it makes the task of my remaining letters all the more daunting.”

“I can imagine. I wish you would take a day off sometime soon, so that you may rest for longer than a few hours at a stretch. I believe it would do you wonders. Winter is generally a time for peaceful contemplation, but it’s been a frenzy of activity for you these past months. You are overdue for some leisure, my love.”

“You are right, as usual. Sometime very soon, dearest, I will take a week or two off and we will spend all the leisurely hours together you could wish. Perhaps we’ll even have a romp outside in the snow. Within the next month, once this mess is more or less cleaned up. Would that suit you?”

“It would suit me very fine indeed. While you could never be accused of neglecting me, I have been missing my husband of late, most especially his smile. That has been the most absent part of you.”

“For that I am sorry. I don’t like to bring my business affairs into our life together. My lovely, patient wife. You are too good to me.

“Well and I could say the same of you, so there. Enough of that. Come kiss me again, then go to your work before you fall asleep standing up.”

“As you command.” He was truly in danger of this, as he felt his lids growing heavier all the time, so he forced himself to move away from the pleasant heat, going to her side and kissing her fully this time, savoring her sweet lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Away I go. See you soon, darling.”

 Mr. Darcy could not rid himself of the clinging fatigue for the rest of the evening. His remaining letters took longer than usual, and he knew they were not as well done as they ought to be, but at least they were done. When they were finished, he tossed his pen aside eagerly and stretched his stiff neck. Perhaps he should take those leisure days sooner rather than later. He really hadn’t been feeling his best lately, and the wintery weather that had had them in its grasp for weeks certainly wasn’t helping. Also, he missed his wife, though he had just seen her. He missed spending time with her, and not just in stolen hours here and there. 

Right now all he wanted was to curl up beside her in bed, and talk of sweet nothings, and perhaps make sweet love. Hopefully that would help shake this irritating headache. Yes, they were long overdue for quality time spent together. He would make arrangements for some time away immediately, hopefully as early as a fortnight from now. The thought immediately made him calmer as he finished up a few small things, then hurried to find her and begin the more pleasant part of the evening.

2.

“Heh-KERRR-CHOOOOO! Heh- heh- KITSHHH’CHOOOO”

A bellowing sneeze startled Elizabeth from her book the next morning, and the even louder one that followed caused her to go investigate it’s source. To her surprise, following the sound of the miserable sniffles led to her husband’s study, where she found him ineffectually wiping his dripping nose with an already-damp handkerchief. 

“My dear Mr. Darcy, is that you making all that racket? My heavens, bless you! I don’t know as I’ve ever heard a sneeze so resounding in all my life. Were you holding it in all morning for it to grow to such a volume?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he sniffled sourly. “It was merely a sneeze.”

She quirked an eyebrow, amused. “I would beg to argue. You sneeze particularly violently, my dear. Likely because, as I noted, you hold them in until you can’t anymore.”

“Well, since you are evidently the expert,” he muttered as he pressed on with his work, coughing softly. 

She rarely saw this severe, prickly side of him these days, and this, more than anything else, concerned her and made her know he shouldn’t be teased at present. He really must be feeling poorly. She moved to his side and pressed against him as she had the day before, rubbing his shoulder. He did not respond, physically or otherwise.

“You are unwell, my love. You should go take some rest. You quite look as if you have gotten the wrong end of this cold of a sudden.”

“I am fine. Don’t worry yourself. I am only in need of some tea and I shall be quite well.”

“I’d be happy to fetch you tea, but I’d be happier to fetch it for you in bed, or at least in your chair in the library. I fear these large windows will do you no favors with the draft.”

“I have many things I need to see to today. I cannot take time to rest. And all my files are here in the study. I haven’t been ill since I was a boy. I’m certainly not going to be ill now.”

Lizzie sighed and shook her head at the foolishness of males. “Have it your way, then. I’ll see you get some tea. Was there anything else you’d like?”

“Just a scone or two. Thank you, dearest.” He finally turned his gaze to her, and she saw true gratitude there, despite the reddened, watery eyes and dripping nose. “And forgive my rudeness when you came in. You startled me, but I should not speak to you like that. Please forgive me.”

“Of course you’re forgiven, and I am sorry I startled you. You know I only worry about you because I love you.”

“As I love you, my Lizzie.” He coughed wetly into his handkerchief. “Now please, if you’d leave me. I really do have much to do, and you are ever my truest distraction. I will see you this evening. And please know, I am doing all this so that we can have our time together very soon.”

“Yes, my dear.” She sighed softly and made her way out, stopping one of the servants to request her husband’s tea and scones. She gave explicit instructions for the type of tea and what was to be in it, things to soothe an aching throat and ward off fever. If he wouldn’t have a care for his own body, she would be forced to do it for him. She only hoped he would see reason sooner than later and take himself off to bed before he caught his death in that drafty study.

~~~~~~~~~~

Of course, Darcy was endlessly studious and conscientious, not to mention stubborn, and so he stayed in his study, or was running around with different servants and community members all day. He did his best to conduct his business as excellently as ever, despite how very unwell he was beginning to feel.

When their paths would cross later in the day though, she could see he was flagging. His cough had become quite the nuisance, and his nose and lips were raw and chapped. Dark circles began to show under his eyes, vivid against sickly pallor. Every now and again, she heard a massive, wet sneeze disturb the air from wherever he was. She gave him sympathetic smiles and little encouragements whenever she could, but what she truly wanted was to see him to bed and tend to his every need there. The misery on his face made her ache for him. If only he wasn’t so proud. And yes, stubborn.

She was quite relieved when he joined her at their evening meal, wearily announcing he was done working for the day, and she told him such. He was quiet and withdrawn for the remainder of the evening, aside from his frequent sniffles and coughs, and the occasional explosive sneeze, which never failed to make her jump, even as they became more and more frequent. 

Taking his lead, she also said very little, reading exhaustion in every line of his frame, especially as his sneezes and coughs harshened. If she had been another woman, and he another man (indeed, her parents came to mind), she would have said again that she wished he would take the day off tomorrow. But it was not in her to nag, and if she had he would only have become angry, or withdrawn completely. She had said her part this morning, and she knew he had heard her and remembered. What he did from here was his choice alone. 

She watched him unobtrusively as he dozed by the fire that evening, feeling such love in her breast for her dedicated, hardworking husband, but no small amount of worry either. They had been married nearly three years, and she had never once seen him ill. She hoped it was truly only trifling, as he kept insisting it was whenever anyone asked. 

They went to bed earlier than usual, her feigning equal tiredness for his sake, so he wouldn’t feel he was being a burden. But indeed, all she wanted of the rest of this day was to lie beside him in bed, perhaps rub his back, and just be near him for whatever he needed. To her delight, that is exactly what happened. He said very little, and asked for nothing, stifling sneezes now and again even as his frequent, chesty coughing fits worsened, but merely lay beside her and let her rub away at his aches and chills as he fell asleep.

3.

Darcy and Eliza were both early risers, and both loved to greet the day while it was still fresh and full of promise. Being the man though, Mr. Darcy was always up and about before his wife, for it took him far less time to dress, and there were several things he liked to see to before breakfast, though he never neglected to kiss her goodbye as he left.

Imagine her surprise then, when the next morning found him still soundly asleep beside her when her maids came in to help her dress at their usual time. The sound of their arrival woke her, but her poor husband hardly stirred. She hurried out of bed, calming the poor, startled ladies in hushed tones, assuring them they had done no wrong. They helped her dress and fix her hair simply and comfortably before Elizabeth shooed them out again, saying she wasn’t sure what they should tell the other staff, as she had no idea what mind her husband would be in when he finally woke. 

Lizzie sighed as they left. Now it would be all over the house that he was sick abed, and who knew what other irrepressible rumors. He would hate that. However, at present it was the truth so he would just have to deal with it whenever he woke. In the meantime, she picked up her book and read in the chair by the fire, wanting to be close when he woke.

That turned out to be shortly thereafter. He first began to toss and turn a bit, then he started to cough, then he nearly made her jump out of her chair with one of his tremendous sneezes. 

“Heh -KER- CHUUUUHHF!” The noise was thick and miserable-sounding, more than hinting at painfully clogged sinuses and a raw, scratchy throat. While he was mopping the mess from his face with his handkerchief, his lungs decided to take their turn at clearing themselves as well, and he erupted into a series of wet, strenuous coughs. 

She made her way to his side during this sad display, gently stroking his tousled hair as he quieted. He groaned softly when he was able and pressed into her embrace, still holding the handkerchief to his nose, eliciting a cluck of sympathy from his wife at his sorry state.

“My poor dear,” she murmured. “Your health is much worse this morning.”

“Mby head is like a lead weight od the pillow,” he croaked. “Fatigue weighs dowd mby limbs dreadfully.”

“Then you will not work today?”

“Mby wise wife advised that I look after mby body more, and today mby body tells mbe I must rest, so rest I shall,” he murmured sleepily. “As long as you’ll keeb mbe company?”

“I would love nothing more. This is perhaps not the leisurely day we had hoped for, but I’ll accept it just the same." She tenderly caressed his cheek, frowning as she felt it. "You are terribly feverish, darling." Yet she hardly needed to feel, for just by looking at his flushed, sweaty face and seeing him shake with chills, the fever made its presence known.

"And yet I'mb chilled to the bone. I had forgotten how beastly udpleasant it is to catch cold," he rasped with a thick sniffle.

"Indeed, it makes one feel for your poor sister all the more. It seems she is laid up with a cold every other week. Now, how does tea appeal to you? And perhaps some food? You hardly touched supper last night."

"Tea would be lovely. Mby abbetite still eludes me however. But, if only to please you, I would try sumb toast and an egg."

Lizzie had servants running for his requests in short order while Darcy tended to his nose, blowing it over and over, soaking through more than one handkerchief. His tray was delivered in record time. Seeing it arrive, Darcy slowly levered himself to a sitting position, pressing a hand to his temple.

"Mby head is throbbi'g," he mumbled.

Elizabeth pressed the cup of tea into his hands, looking sympathetic. "Drink some. It may help your head."

He did as he was bid, drawing his knees to his chest like a boy as he drank while she rubbed his back. However, another tremendous sneeze almost made him spill the whole thing. 

“Ah- ah- KITCHSHOOOOO! Ugh…” He sought his handkerchief desperately, and when Elizabeth handed it to him, he pressed it harshly against his streaming nose to stem the flow, groaning as he did. Elizabeth hastily took the teacup from his again, for it seemed in danger of being upended at any moment.

"Bless you! My poor dear, what can I do for you? Besides keeping a stack of handkerchiefs here for your poor nose."

"I would ask you to help mbe dress in a few moments," he said, his voice muffled behind the fabric as he tried to rub away the headache between his eyes. "While I will be as quick as I cad, I must speak to mby steward and give hib sumb idstructions for mby absence."

"Can you not write him instead? I fear for you going out in the cold, lest this settles in your chest."

"Mby head aches too miserably to do a probber job with writing. I fear I would forget somethi'g crucial. Ndo, I'll quickly  go dowd and speak to hib, and thed I'll return. Ndo going outside for mbe today, never fear."

She sighed and nodded, knowing he would not be dissuaded. "At least finish your tea and try some egg before you go so you don't collapse on the stairs."

"I'mb far from collapse mby dear, I assure you." His general appearance said otherwise though, as he had been miserably coughing into his handkerchief throughout the whole conversation, and had yet to stop shivering. However, she held her tongue and served him breakfast instead. 

Lizzie saw he made an effort to eat as much as he could, and though it was only a few bites, she was slightly placated. She knew he would not relax until he had set what affairs he could in order. So, after his tea was gone, when he rose and began to dress, she assisted him, for she realized the sooner he left, the sooner he would return.

"I'd rather not ri'g for mby valet, as I'd be worried I would sdeeze on hib," muttered Darcy, looking embarrassed as she straightened his jacket while he futilely tried to blow his nose, which only served to make him cough yet again.

"It's no trouble at all, dear. Only please hurry back. I truly worry for that cough." 

"I'll be back under your watchful eye as quick as I cad, dearest," he murmured, grazing her ear with his lips as she slipped an extra handkerchief in his pocket. With that, he was gone, his boots thumping down the hall wearily.

~~~~~~~~~~

Time dragged as she waited for him. While she knew he could take care of himself and she didn't need to be here the moment he returned, she also knew he would want her to be. Her husband was a strong man, but at times like these, he depended on her, and she was not about to disappoint him. So, while there were plenty of things she could have seen to around the manor herself, she waited in his sitting room with her needlework, keeping the fire high. 

Finally she heard him in the hall. She rushed to open the door as he shuffled in, looking spent. 

 "Darcy dear! I expected you an hour ago!"  she said, helping him shed his coat. Suddenly she felt his shoulders hitch under her hands as his breath scissored:

"Ktt-tsshhEEW!" The wet spraying sneeze was his response, only partially stifled by the sodden handkerchief he held. She blessed him worriedly as he again mopped his face.

"I'mb sorry, dearest," he finally managed. "I was stobbed many tibes between mby study and here to answer questions. I cabe as quick as I could."

He fell wearily into the chair nearest the fire with a deep groan and a deeper cough. He bent to try and remove his boots, but his efforts were hampered, as his nose streamed dreadfully if he bent over. He had to keep a hand pressed to his face as he tried to undo the fastenings with the other. 

Elizabeth knelt in front of him and gently pushed his hands away, loosening and removing the boots herself as he leaned back in the chair, sniffling wetly. 

"Thagk you, mby love," he croaked. 

"Here, have some more tea, I've just had Mary bring some. There, now what suits you best? Shall we cover you warmly and sit here by the fire, or would you like me to fetch you some soup? I won't ask if you want to call for Dr. Bishop yet since I know what you'll say, though I have half a mind to."

"There's ndo need for the doctor," replied her husband. "Whad I most want right now is to lie dowd and sleeb sumb few hours yed. Mby mind is sluggish. I cad hardly grasp on a thought except how exhausted I amb."

"Then take my arm and let's get you to bed, poor man. I imagine some more sleep will do wonders for you."

"I don't need help walki'g mby dear, I'm not invalid, only full of cold." Even still, he took her proffered arm as he stood and rested a hand on her shoulder warmly as she led him to the bedroom.

"That may be, but I'll see you there myself just the same to make sure there's no distractions along the way." She kissed his hand and caressed it fondly as they made their way to the bed. She helped him remove all the clothes she had helped him don not long before and replace them with his nightshirt. While he clearly needed to sleep, he also seemed loath to let her out of his sight. He remained sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment with her pressed against his side. She scratched his back fondly. 

“You should lie down, dear. You’re more asleep than awake.”

Instead, he wrapped his arms around her unexpectedly, burying his face in her abdomen with a weary sigh. Elizabeth was slightly startled, but gladly reciprocated the embrace, burying her face in his hair. Her husband was an affectionate man, but not usually physically so. This gesture from him, while not at all unwelcome, was unexpected. 

“I feel terrible,” he groaned, barely audible, leaning most of his weight against her. “Mby body runs amok with mbe.”

“So it seems. I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t wish this cold of yours on anyone.”  

She held him for a few peaceful moments. Just as she was about to again suggest he lie down, for it seemed he was in danger of falling asleep against her, his back twitched violently and he tried to pull away.

“heh-GIHH’CHOOOO! Hehht-kk’CHOOOOOF!” 

Neither had time to react as poor Mr. Darcy sneezed thickly, his face still pressed against his startled wife. She couldn't suppress a little gasp as he pulled away, stammering apologies and wiping his traitorous nose. 

She was silent a moment appraising the state of her dress, then an unladylike snort of laughter escaped her, sending her into a little fit of giggles even as she comforted her overwrought husband, pressing him gently back against the pillows. 

“It’s all right, my love. Such things happen. ‘Tis only a dress, and I have plenty more. It seems neither of us are coming away from this cold of yours unscathed. But there now, you’re completely spent. You can hardly keep your eyes open, red as they are. Take some more rest, my love.”

“You’re too good to mbe,” he croaked, fighting against his heavy eyelids but already nearly asleep, the handkerchief still in his limp hand on the bed.

She reached out, caressing his face and brushing hair from his brow. “No more of that. Close your eyes and sleep, for how else do you expect to get better?” She clucked her tongue softly again. “You really are painfully warm, poor man. It is most worrisome,” she said, more to herself than him.

“I’ll be alright,” he mumbled, the last word turning into a snore as he finally gave in to the needs of his body.

~~~~~~~~~~

4.

That was to be the last interaction Mr. Darcy would remember for quite some time. He fell into a deep sleep then, and everything that happened over the next few days would be blurred flashes in his mind at best, hazed by illness and fever.

Of course, the same could not be said for Elizabeth. After he fell asleep, she left him and tended to some of her duties around the manor (after changing her gown, naturally). She did not want to hover in the sickroom, both for her sake and his, so she forced herself to stay away for several hours, knowing he would ring if he needed something.

Still, in the late afternoon she returned, unable to stay away any longer. He was exactly as she had left him, snoring softly. He didn’t seem to have moved at all in his sleep, which was most unlike him. She again went to feel his forehead, sensing something amiss. He was much warmer than before. A knot of worry pulsing in her heart, she tried to shake him awake. He opened his eyes and seemed to look at her, but she could tell he wasn’t truly awake, and didn’t respond when she spoke to him, only grunted and coughed, trying to roll over and sleep again. 

Without further ado, she sent for Doctor Bishop, pacing the halls outside Darcy’s rooms until he arrived, wringing her hands in worry and opening the door to check on her husband every few minutes, to ensure he got no worse.  

The doctor arrived quickly, heading right into the sickroom. He did a thorough examination, listening to Mr. Darcy’s heart and lungs, checking his pulse and 100 other things. Darcy woke briefly a few times, but only managed answers of a word or less before he dozed off again. His large frame looked somehow both bigger and smaller than it should, curled up limply on the bed, with only his breathing as evidence of life. After he was through, the wise doctor scrutinized his patient, deep in thought. Elizabeth remained silent, waiting with baited breath. Finally the doctor turned to her. 

“You said he’s been overworking himself and run down lately, yes?”

“Yes, doctor. Business has been troubling him of late.”

“Hm. So it seems. Well, overall his vital signs are normal for a man with a cold. I see nothing overly alarming, excepting the high fever. That is a touch worrisome, but can at times be seen in such cases. No, I don’t fear any illness has befallen him except what you’ve said, a bad cold. I think he’s simply exhausted, and this cold has caught up with him and brought everything down at once. I’ll wager the fever will subside in a day or two, and the rest in the days after that as long as he gets the rest he sorely needs. I shan’t prescribe him anything except what he already has here with you, Mrs. Darcy. Let him sleep as much as he wants, keep him hydrated and don’t cover him too warmly, and I think this will run its course soon enough.”

It was as if great weight fell off her shoulders as he spoke. “Oh, thank you doctor! Indeed, I shall do just as you say, and make sure he does as well.”

“Please do. The stubbornness of the Darcys is well known to me, for my father and his father have been treating this family for generations. I’ll come round to see him every day until I’m satisfied he’s on the mend, if that suits you.”

“Oh, yes please, and thank you kindly. You have my deepest gratitude, sir.”

“My pleasure, madame. Until tomorrow.” He tipped his hat and was gone.

With a huge sigh of relief, Elizabeth collapsed on the chair at her husband’s bedside. After a moment, she found his hand under the quilt and held it, needing to feel his touch, even if in unconsciousness. After a moment, he unexpectedly squeezed it. She looked up to see his eyes were fluttering closed, but his face was angled toward her now. She took a moment to appreciate that fine face, though currently his nose, cheeks, and eyes were matching shades of red against the sickly pallor over the rest of him.

She sighed and softly kissed his hand. “Get well soon, my dear.”

He certainly took his time doing so, or so it seemed to Eliza. Either she or Georgiana were at his side at all times. He slept constantly, barely waking even to drink water. He spoke hardly at all and asked for nothing. He would intermittently shake with chills, or else sweat profusely. He sneezed in thick, messy fits, several at a time, but then would go hours between, until the sensation again overpowered and woke him. He coughed more often, since that it seemed he could do even as he slept. 

Yes, he slept, but he was overall restless. Noise in the room roused him. He stirred when he was touched. He stirred when he coughed. He woke when he sneezed. His sleep didn’t seem peaceful, which was perhaps why he never fully woke, because he wasn’t fully resting. 

The first night, Elizabeth slept in her own rarely-used bedroom (she much preferred sharing his), wanting him (and herself) to rest as much as possible. The second night though, she was achingly lonely, missing his touch, his voice, and his smile. So, she crawled into her usual place beside him in his bed, pressing herself against him. She found herself cold, as she had been since he was ill from the worry, so his warmth was more than pleasant. 

She herself relaxed immediately as soon as she was against him, but more surprisingly, so did he. He didn’t wake and hardly stirred when he felt her, but his breathing quickly deepened and he relaxed more fully as they rested against each other. Basking in the sensation of enjoying one another’s touch, they both slept the whole night that way. 

~~~~~~~~~~

More than 48 hours after he first fell asleep, Darcy finally woke up completely. Naturally, it was a sneeze that did it. 

“Heh’gihh’CHUUUHFF! AHHGK-CHOOOF! … ow….”

Something in the tone made Lizzie turn. She had been sitting facing the fire with her needlework, but glancing at the bed, she saw her husband sitting up, one hand to his temple, the other wiping his nose, and looking aware of his surroundings for the first time in 2 days. She dashed to his side, feeling his forehead at once.

“Bless you, dear. My, but it’s good to see you awake! Oh, and your fever is much decreased, how wonderful! How do you feel? Is your head hurting you? Here, drink some water, the doctor said you’re likely dehydrated…”

She wanted to prattle on, but she saw he was a bit overwhelmed, so she forced her tongue to be still. She gently grasped his hands, to calm him as well as herself, and kissed them fondly. She then handed him a glass of water, and he drank gratefully as she looked him over. He seemed a bit better, but he continued to look around in a dazed way.”

“Have I been asleeb long?” he finally rasped, his voice totally gone, and still stuffed tight with congestion.

“I would say so. It’s been two days darling.” She did her best to keep the worry and accusation out of her voice. He couldn’t help that he’d been ill.”

“Two days?! Good heavens.” He fell back against the pillows with a groan and a cough. “Ndo wonder I feel so sluggish.”

“Yes, but it seems you needed it. The doctor has been out every day, and he says you were suffering from exhaustion. Your body was taking the rest it sorely needed.”

“So it seebs.” He rubbed his eyes wearily.

“How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Sumb better, I thingk,” he said with a wet sniffle. “Less fevered. I am still weary, and will sleep another night soundly through, but I hope I’m on the mend now.”

“As do I.” She kissed his hand again, squeezing it tightly.

~~~~~~~~~~

5.

Mr. Darcy was indeed on the mend. He was moving about his rooms freely the next day, and 2 days after that, he was allowed by the doctor (and his wife, grudgingly) to resume his duties, though at a reduced basis, for his cough still lingered, along with some fatigue. Yet he was incredibly cheerful to be leaving his rooms, and everywhere he went, he had a spring in his step.

That same day he was freed found Elizabeth curled on the settee in her rarely-used personal sitting room, wrapped in a coverlet and trying to read. However, her dripping nose and throbbing headache prevented her from making much progress in the story. 

A barking cough burst out of her against her will, making her drop her book. With a feeble groan, she reached down to retrieve it, holding a handkerchief to her streaming nose. She had known she likely wouldn’t escape catching her husband’s cold, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant. However, she was not about to spoil his first day of freedom with her own illness, so she was hiding here to avoid him as long as she could.

Just as she was thinking this, she heard his boots in the hall, and she suppressed another groan. He knocked softly, then peeked in the door, looking happy as well as confused when he saw her.

“Mary said I might find you here, but I thought she must be mistaken. Whatever are you doing? I was hoping to meet you for tea.”

She took a breath to answer, but instead the urge to sneeze snuck up on her. She shoved her elbow against her face, turning away from him to stifle the stubborn urge harshly:

“HXXT’GH! HNNKT! HXXTCH! Guh…” she mumbled at the end, which turned into a painful cough that she hardly had breath for.

Darcy was at her side in a moment, kneeling by her arm and feeling her forehead just as she had his so many times the past few days. Concern and regret crossed his face. “You have a fever, dearest. It seems I’ve shared my cold with you,” he said, stifling a little cough.

“You always were the gentleman, never failing to share with a lady,” she groused weakly.

His low chuckle was warm. “I’m truly sorry. Yet I heard you hardly left the bedchamber while I was ill, so I suppose it was inevitable.”

“Especially since you sneezed on me,” she mumbled, trying not to smile.

“Indeed,” he chuckled again. “I’m sorry for that as well. But now, enough talk. Rest your voice. Come up to bed and I’ll see you get some tea and toast.”

“Perhaps I don’t want to go to bed, did that occur to you? I’ve spent all week in that bedchamber and I’d prefer to not be forced to go back,” she muttered petulantly. 

“I can tell you’re feeling unwell, for you’re never so irritable. That more than anything tells me I must see you to bed immediately.” His tone indicated some teasing, but mostly seriousness. Without further ado, he scooped her up in one motion and stood, carrying her toward their bedchamber, a little smile playing around his lips. 

“Why you--! I’ve never been thus treated in my entire life. Put me down, you terrible man!” Yet she couldn’t keep from laughing, miserable though she was, which of course turned into a cough. She hadn’t felt so ill in a long time. In fact, the overwhelming urge to sneeze was coming over her again. She struggled weakly to free her arms from where he had them pinned, but it was too late: 

“Hhh’rrrrushh’eeeew! Herrr’CHEW! Hihhh’knn’CHOOF!” She sneezed explosively against his chest, covering them both in the spray. His steps paused as he looked down at her, open-mouthed, while she stared back, reddening in embarrassment, but slightly triumphant.

“...bless you, my Lizzie,” Darcy finally said, an odd smile on his face.

“Thank you. I’m terribly sorry!... But what choice did I have, when I can’t move my arms? Now we’re even, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled again as he resumed walking. “And I suppose if you must sneeze on someone, it’s best if it’s me, as I can’t very well catch this cold again. But all the more reason for me to see you to bed. You look a mess. In the loveliest possible way, of course.”

“How charming you are, Mr. Darcy. You have quite a way of flattering a woman.”

He chuckled again, but by this time they had reached his bedchamber. He deposited her on the bed with the utmost gentleness, and proceeded to assist her in changing into more comfortable clothes. She shivered miserably as she changed so that her teeth nearly chattered. Darcy tucked her in warmly and quickly rang for some tea, then began to remove his own boots and coat. She watched him curiously, though with heavy eyes, for she suddenly she found herself exhausted. With pleasure she realized he planned to join her in bed. 

He did just that a few moments later, pulling her close against himself and wrapping her in his big, warm arms. She nuzzled in gratefully with a sniffle and a cough. He buried his face in her hair as they settled, coughing as well. 

“What are you doing, Darcy dear? I thought you had many things to do today,” she mumbled, already nearing sleep. “You’ve had so many days off yourself. You needn’t take another for me, though it seems we’re quite a mess still.”

“This has become the most important thing I must do today,” he yawned. “You were a saint to look after me this whole week, so now I must return the favor. I’m not likely to let an opportunity pass to spend time with you after these past weeks, for I’ve learned my lesson.  And I too am already weary, for this cold hasn’t quite left me. A nap would suit me fine, especially if I can warm you in the process.” 

When a servant arrived with tea, no one greeted him, and when he opened the door with the tray, he found it best to simply leave it nearby and duck out again, for Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were fast asleep. 

[potterverse-united]

In Loving Memory

A fanfic in which Snape and Harry actually talk it out a little and start to understand each other...

Rating: G / K

Summary: Harry has never really liked Halloween... for obvious reasons. A certain professor isn't really a fan either. Perhaps some healing is in the cards for both of them, after a trip out to a small village in southwest England. Takes place in second year, but it could honestly be any year at Hogwarts.

Read on AO3 Read on Fanfiction.net

A/N: I haven't written fanfic in forever, but I just watched every single Harry Potter movie in one day a couple days ago, and it sent me into a relapse of my 13 year old self's Harry Potter obsession (not to mention that I now live in Orlando and have been to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter like 6 times in the last couple weeks). Oh man if my roommates ever find this they're gonna know exactly who wrote this…

O-O /*

With a flick of his wand, Snape slammed the door to his office shut, locking it beyond the hope of any student's best alohomora charm. He set out at a brisk pace toward the castle's entrance, glad to be escaping the merry cheers and shouts emanating from the Halloween celebration taking place in the Great Hall and, frankly, all throughout the castle.

As he turned a corner, he nearly tripped over a pair of legs and a stack of books. Idiotic, really. You would think that students would have the common sense not to sit where they could easily become a tripping hazard, but Severus had learned not to be surprised when 'common sense' was absent at Hogwarts.

A Ravenclaw, he expected. They were book smart, sure, but other than that, they could be incredibly dense, clumsy, and shortsighted. Or maybe Granger, though he imagined she was probably off getting roped into trouble with Potter and Weasley, perhaps with Hagrid and some illegal creature involved.

He had not expected the scrawny boy with round glasses and a lightning bolt scar on his forehead to be sitting in this dark hallway, far removed from the rest of the student body.

"Potter, I figured you'd be milling about and enjoying the festivities with your rowdy little friends," Snape spoke with a sneer. "What's a second year Gryffindor like yourself doing inside on Halloween night?"

Harry looked up, caught off guard by his professor who seemed to be wearing a heavier traveling cloak and carrying a crate full of items he couldn't quite see.

"I was, sir. I just… Well, Halloween isn't exactly my favorite night, professor."

Snape's head tilted back, eyes piercing through Harry's as if assessing the veracity of his excuse before, unbelievably, softening.

"I see," he answered. The potions professor pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth slumping downward slightly, almost imperceptibly. "I'm not too fond of it myself." He shuffled the items awkwardly in his arms, turning to walk away.

"Are you going somewhere, professor?" Harry asked. After what had happened the previous Halloween, Harry wasn't sure it was the best idea for professors to leave the students unprotected, but Snape must have a good reason if he was. At Harry's words, he froze.

"As a matter of fact, I am," he answered in his drawling voice, turning back to look at his student. "I have business outside of the castle."

Harry nodded and shifted his attention back to the Transfiguration assignment he had been working on, expecting that his professor's patience for such an idle conversation had long since worn off.

Snape, however, continued to stare at the young boy, seeming to consider his next words very carefully.

"Perhaps you'd like to accompany me, Potter. My destination happens to be one that you may wish to visit."

"Sir?" Harry sat, confused.

Any hesitation Snape had shown at his initial offer was quickly covered by what could only be described as impatient certainty. "Come along, Potter. Unless you'd rather stay here staring at a blank roll of parchment?"

Blinking in surprise, Harry promptly gathered his things and trailed after the flowing cape of Severus Snape, down the hall and out of the castle.

O-O /*

Harry had to walk twice as fast as he usually did to keep up with the deceptively fast stride of his professor. They traveled down the lane a while, Snape charging ahead without so much as a glance back at the castle where students' delighted screams and laughs could be heard from half a mile away.

"I could help carry that for you, sir," Harry offered, seeing his professor struggle with the bulky items in his arms.

Snape's instinctive refusal died on his lips as he glanced down and met the wide, truthful eyes of Harry Potter. Eyes that could only remind him why he was bothering to drag the kid along with him on his yearly pilgrimage in the first place.

He nodded jerkily, not used to accepting help from anyone, much less the son of James Potter.

"Hold this," he said, transferring a large wreath of white flowers from the top of his overflowing box into Harry's awaiting arms.

Harry eyed the wreath curiously. Whatever he had expected the professor to be carrying, this certainly wasn't it.

"Where is it that we're going, professor?" he asked, shaking off the momentary confusion that had held him back from where Snape was walking ahead of him.

Snape made no move to meet Harry's eyes as he responded. "We are walking to the edge of the castle grounds, from which point we will apparate to a village in the southwest of England."

"Southwest England? Am I allowed that far from Hogwarts during the school year?" Harry asked curiously, wondering now if this was some ploy to trick him into breaking some serious school rules and getting sent home.

Snape's lip curled in a slight smirk at Potter's uncertainty. "As long as you stay with me, the headmaster can have no objection," his answer came, with an air of finality.

O-O /*

Apparation proved to be tougher to stomach than Harry was expecting, but his lack of an appetite at the Halloween feast served him well in that regard. Snape's firm grip on his arm helped stabilize him as their feet met the slightly damp soil of a small, sleepy town.

"What is this place?" Harry asked, turning his head like an owl to take in his new surroundings.

His professor looked down at him, a flash of concern and… something else behind his dark, inky eyes before it was easily masked by practiced impassivity. His gaze turned to the town in front of them.

"Godric's Hollow," he answered, seeming to lose himself in the line of small cottages and the old church standing silent in the middle. His voice was quiet, even softer than his usual reserved intonation, and there was a faraway look in his eye, like he was seeing more than Harry could see in front of him. "It is the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor, the invention of the Golden Snitch, and…" Snape paused, glancing down at the boy. "You."

Harry sucked in a shuddering breath.

"So that means…"

Snape gave a small nod, breathing out a sigh.

"Yes. This is where it happened."

Harry's knees suddenly felt like jelly. Snape must have recognized this, as he placed a firm, guiding hand on Harry's shoulder and led him through the quiet, leaf-covered street without another word.

As they neared the back of the church, Snape began to speak. "I had assumed you would have been brought here to visit by now. Twelve years of age, surely someone would have shown you where you're from." A kind of sadness formed in Harry's eyes, and Snape had to look away. "From your reaction, I can see I was incorrect in that assumption."

Harry nodded.

Severus clenched his fist, suppressing quiet rage at Petunia Evans who, looking back now, Snape should have realized would be unlikely to share fond memories of her sister with her nephew.

As they walked, Harry couldn't help looking at the streets, dimly lit with a warm yellow light. Bedroom lights in the small houses flickered out one by one, and he imagined that in each one, loving parents were kissing their children goodnight as they drifted off into content sleep.

This is where he would have grown up. A peaceful, happy life. A mum and a dad.

If, if, if.

Harry had long since learned that such thoughts only brought pain, but on the anniversary of their deaths, it was harder to push back those feelings. A deep sense of melancholy settled itself in his heart, pressing inward. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes before the brisk autumn breeze blew across his face and dried them all up.

So lost in his musings was Harry, that he didn't even notice where Professor Snape had led them to.

The man stood, unmoving, gazing over rows and rows of tombstones in a fenced-in cemetery next to the church. Harry came up alongside him and felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Would you like to visit their grave, Harry?" Snape all but whispered, calling his student by his given name for the first time, possibly ever.

The boy looked up in shock, realizing now what was before him.

"You mean they're in there?" he asked, though perhaps he should not be so surprised.

Snape's lips twitched in what was his attempt at a comforting smile. He gave a nod. "Come, I'll take you to them."

O-O /*

Harry walked in a daze as Snape led him through the meandering rows of graves. Graves of magical and muggle folk alike. Eventually, the professor came to a stop in front of an unremarkable tombstone, though the names engraved on it held more weight than any of the muggle residents of this village would ever understand.

It seemed there were others who had already been to visit, as flowers and letters adorned the site, no doubt thanking the couple for their heroic sacrifice and continuing to mourn their tragic end.

Somehow, it had never occurred to Harry that his parents were buried somewhere. That he could go to a place and stand not a meter away from where they lay in rest. Until now, all they had been were names and a story. A few shared memories, but other than that, nothing but words. Knowing that they were once here, physically present, made the loss seem all that much more profound. And for the first time, Harry could imagine what it would feel like to be wrapped in his mother's arms, for his dad to ruffle his hair playfully. They were real, even if they weren't here anymore. They were real.

Harry swallowed back the emotion, bringing himself back into the present. At some point, Snape had knelt to the ground and was now brushing leaves and dirt off the top of the tombstone. He turned his head, nodding to Harry. "Come, Harry, help me with these flowers."

Cold, muddy water seeped through the knees of Harry's trousers, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he sank to the ground and held the white floral wreath limply in his hands. There was something about being here, doing something to honor his family, that soothed the pain in his heart.

Snape set out a bundle of white calla lilies, tied up with a small black bow, and motioned for Harry to hand him the wreath. After adjusting it to his liking, he stood and admired his work.

Harry was at a loss for words. Following his professor's example, he stood and gazed down at their names once more.

James and Lily Potter.

He could understand, now, why he had been invited along on this trip. In fact, he was incredibly grateful beyond words for such an opportunity. He had never expected for something like this to give him closure, much less for it to come from Snape.

But there Snape was, silently paying his respects to his mother, and Harry couldn't even theorize as to why.

"Sir, I—I don't understand…" Harry spoke, breaking the somber silence that had settled on the graveyard.

Severus didn't need to guess what Harry was wondering about. It was only natural for him to want to know.

Though Severus would infinitely have preferred to keep his connection with Harry's mother a secret, he knew it would not have been fair to Harry. After all, he had had so much time, comparatively, with her, and Harry so little. Though certainly her son deserved it far more than he ever did. The world could be cruel.

And Severus could not deny his part in that cruelty all those years ago. It was his fault that Voldemort sought out Lily and James. His fault that Harry wound up an orphan. It filled him with immense discomfort now to be standing there, guilt heavy on his shoulders, with the one person who suffered most from what happened that night.

"You are, no doubt, wondering why I would come here, to this graveyard," he spoke, nodding at the tombstone and leaving no room for denial.

Harry looked to his professor, awaiting an explanation.

Snape stared straight ahead at the engraved names, taking in a deep, unsteady breath. "Your mother Lily was my very best friend in our first years at Hogwarts. My only friend." His look was somber. "It only seems right to come here and pay my respects when I can."

For a moment, Harry swore he couldn't breathe.

Snape, of all people? Aside from learning last year that it had been Snape trying to protect him and protect the Stone, the potions professor was notorious for not having a kind or gentle bone in his body. He was impatient. Unnecessarily harsh on his students. Hateful. Every thing he had seen tonight, however, called every preconception of the man's character into question.

"F-friends, sir?"

A humorless smirk crossed Snape's features as he looked down at the young child. "Yes, I suppose my dealings with you would make such a thought unimaginable. Unfortunately, your father and I never got along." Now that was an understatement. "Once again, my assumptions of you may have been too hasty. I was foolish to believe your aunt would outgrow her childish contempt for the wizarding world."

"You knew Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked incredulously, finding this whole situation more and more unbelievable by the second.

Snape let out a disdainful laugh. "Perhaps one day you will know the whole story, Potter. But for now, I'll say that if your aunt treats you at all like how she treated Lily when we were children, then your mother would be rolling in her grave."

Harry pursed his lips. He was still not used to people caring what his home life was like, but he supposed that his parents would wish it a little better than it was with his aunt and uncle.

The belltower on the church rang out across the dampened street, chiming half past 11 o'clock at night. Snape bent down to collect the letters that rested against the stone, shuffling them into a neat pile and placing them in a wooden box.

"Here," he said, handing the box to Harry. "I believe these ought to belong to you."

Harry felt his eyes again welling up with tears as he accepted the gift. "T-thank you, professor," he stammered, clutching the box tight.

"There's a lot more where that came from, believe me," Snape commented as he packed up the boxes he had brought. For the first time, Harry was seeing a different side of Severus Snape. He was witty in his remarks—when he wasn't trying to be cruel. He could almost imagine the boy he once was, who held his mother's friendship.

"More, sir?"

Snape nodded as if it were obvious. "More than a decade's worth, now. The rest are in the possession of the headmaster, though I suspect he will return them to you if you should ask."

Harry wanted to speak, but no words would come out. It was overwhelming, everything that had happened in the course of a couple hours. Being here, now, he had a backdrop in which he could imagine his life before. A mental picture of what had happened. It somehow filled a gaping hole in his heart that he hadn't realized was there, while tearing it to pieces at the same time.

"I'll be at the gate, when you are ready," Snape announced, stepping away from the gravestone. Before Harry could argue, he was gone, and Harry turned back to the engraved names of his mother and father, alone with them for the first time since that night eleven years ago.

"Hello," he said, awkwardly, not sure what one was supposed to say to his deceased parents. "I guess I want to say thanks," he continued, "for, you know, saving me." A chilly breeze swept past the grave, causing Harry to shiver. He wiped the dampness from his face, sniffling softly. "I wish you were here."

There he sat for several more minutes, allowing the tears to fall as they may, before heading back to the entrance of the cemetery.

O-O /*

Snape watched from afar as the boy sat alone by the grave. He looked so small against the backdrop of large tombstones and overgrown trees. Much too small to have experienced all the pain which he had in his short life.

He sighed. For ten years he had carried on this tradition – returning to Godric's Hollow on this most miserable of nights. Never forgetting the night eleven years ago that had changed his life forever. He considered it in some ways a form of penance, self-punishment for his stupid, thoughtless actions that brought about the death of the one person he truly cared for. It was about reliving the pain, allowing himself to feel it deeply, in his bones.

But now…

Seeing Harry here, his first time in the village since that fateful night…

Perhaps it was about healing. Growth. Like Albus' blasted phoenix metaphors, perhaps it was the beginning of a new chapter in the aftermath of what had happened.

It was time he passed on the tradition. Gave it to its rightful owner, the son of Lily and James Potter.

Oh, yes, he would still visit her grave. But it was time he stopped this selfishness. There was one who needed these visits more than he did. And it was the boy he had sworn to protect. He couldn't change what he had done, but he could change what happened next.

Healing – yes.

It was about time that everyone start to heal.

O-O /*

Just a little reminder down here to leave a comment and reblog!

I could be convinced to write a follow up chapter with Harry seeing his old house for the first time, just saying 👀

[kabira]

03 | a little nighttime swinging

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.8k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — violence

note — you know the drill—send me an ask or dm to be added to the taglist! first appearance of the amazing aunt may, so cheers to that. don’t really have much to add except for the fact that i woke up dead tired before morning classes to finish this...but it was fun so i guess it was worth it.

go to fic masterlist | main masterlist

Vernon almost jumped out of his seat when his phone buzzed.

And while he managed to keep his butt firmly planted, he did accidentally swipe half the stuff off his table, phone included. Granted, he should have been paying more attention—usually, he’d be alert and ready for the pestering texts about the day’s homework, but today he had been too tired to keep his eyes open for long.

He wiped the drool gathered at one corner of his mouth and swiped his phone up off the ground, his fingers going on autopilot as they entered the passcode and clicked open the messenger app.

LUCE:

page 25

wtf is a fitting reaction

nvm it’s fittig

VERNON:

reminds of the time you found a milf in the history textbook

LUCE:

the past is in the past

let it gooo

anyway send me the answers to q 11 through 13 and i’ll buy u whatever u want from larry’s on friday

Vernon snorted a laugh, then clicked off without answering. Bold of her to assume I don’t already have someone else to pay for my order. Somehow, though, the text from her had been almost relieving. After all the new changes, he had almost expected her not to text him. It was stupid, he knew, but he couldn’t help being a little apprehensive about the new superhero stuff taking over his regular routine.

He glanced back at the ground, where an old notebook with plans for web shooter mods lay open on the ground, loose pages spilling out. It was already dark out, but the streetlights hadn’t been switched on yet—a good time to sneak out in his suit without being seen; he didn’t want Mrs. Jones next door wondering why Spider-Man was swinging out of Vernon Parker’s bedroom window when she went out for her evening walk.

He exhaled through his teeth, blinking hard to push back any remaining sleepiness. Most of his homework remained yet to be done, but in his defense, he’d had a lot on his mind, not to mention his running on less sleep and more leftover Rhino-induced adrenaline.

He was tired. His was the kind of exhaustion that seeped into his bones and trickled into the empty corners of his mind, making him want move instead of lie down and rest for a while. It was the kind of tiredness you could only wash away by doing, and as long as he was Spider-Man, there was always something to do.

He clicked off the reading light, dousing the room in darkness. His senses were awake, as if straining for the stimulus of the city, and he needed a good nighttime swing to clear his mind anyway. I deserve a break.

Changing into the costume took all of forty-five seconds, picking up the fallen books three seconds. After sticking a pillow under the bedcovers, Vernon perched on the window pane, looking out into the chilly backyard below. Somehow, changing into his suit and swinging out from his actual neighborhood seemed even more thrilling than swinging in.

Maybe if I go out this way, those three won’t be able to follow.

“Vernon, are you in there?”

His heart almost leaped out of his throat at the voice. Vernon turned, eyes wide, eyes zooming in on the shadow lurking at the bottom of his bedroom door, where a little light seeped in from outside. The lock clicked as Aunt May’s hand pressed down on the handle, and the door opened a crack.

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” he yelled in a fit of panic, backflipping from the window onto the mattress, making the bedsprings squeak tellingly under his weight. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He was so sleep-deprived he’d forgotten about locking the door.

Rule number one of hiding your secret identity from your all-seeing aunt: never leave the bedroom door open.

“Oh,” his aunt’s voice came from outside. The light spilling in from the crack in the door receded as she pulled the door shut again. “I just wanted to ask, dear, aren’t you going to eat anything? You haven’t had a bite since you came back from school.”

Crap, that’s true, he thought, the muscles of his stomach tightening at the thought. I’ll swing by the candy store downtown. “Uh, I don’t think I will,” he said. “I’m not hungry, er—think I might be coming down with something.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” May’s worried voice sounded, the door beginning to open again. “I could have whipped you up a—”

“No!” he yelled, instinctively pulling the covers up to his chest. “Naked, remember?”

The door closed again. “Well, put something on,” she replied. “And I’ll make you some soup.”

“You do that,” he muttered loudly, already feeling guilt pool in the pit of his stomach at making her so something for him. But what else was he supposed to do? “Actually, no, don’t bother. I can feel a headache coming on already. I’ll turn in for the night and have a big breakfast tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to anything?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And don’t come in! Because—you know—germs and stuff. Really nasty bug going around in school, one of the kids in my class had it. Don’t wanna infect you too.”

He heard her sigh, but it was an accepting sigh, albeit a little reluctant. “All right,” she said, and the shadow under the door pulled back a little. “Good night, Vernon.”

“Night, Aunt May,” he said, watching the slit of light under the door until the shadow receded completely. As soon as he was in the clear, he breathed a sigh of relief, slipping off the covers.

Those S.H.I.E.L.D. guys had it easy.

Although he couldn’t feel the night air on his bare skin, swinging through the city at night always left him feeling refreshed. It was a little ironic, sure, physical exertion energizing him, but Vernon suspected it was more of a psychological thing. Being out here in the open reminded him of who he actually was supposed to be—not just Vernon Parker, the tired highschooler with leftover chemistry homework, but crime-fighting, wall-crawling, not-homework-doing Spider-Man.

He landed on the roof of a high building, hitting the concrete with a satisfying plunk. Everything seemed more alive at night. Even from up here, he could hear the sounds of humanity on the street below, loud voices running into each other over the noise of traffic. The Daily Bugle billboard on the high building opposite him was lit up—Jameson probably dragging him like always—but Vernon tuned it out. The last thing he needed right now was more negativity.

He was about to leap off the side again when his ears picked up a soft sound behind him. Bad guys, he thought reflexively, before realizing there was a much better explanation.

His jaw clenched, shoulders tightening before he forced them to relax. “You can come out now,” he called without turning, upset rippling through his body despite him desperately trying not to show it. “There’s no point in hiding if you can’t even do it properly.”

Their hesitation was almost audible, but then she stepped out from behind the small roof door. Tiger’s white suit was stark against the dark sky, her mask’s cat ears perked like Daredevil’s horns. He had to admit it was pretty impressive that she’d managed to stay unnoticed that long.

Nova floated up from the side of the building next, carrying a disgruntled-looking Felix. Seeing the latter out of his X-Men costume felt strange, like seeing Fury without his eyepatch. There was definitely something up with him, but Vernon didn’t want to pry, so he stored the suspicion away for later perusal.

“You can sense non-threatening presences with your spider sense?” Nova asked, looking both annoyed and awed. “Your file didn’t say that.”

Vernon was tempted to lie just to spite him, but stopped himself. If these guys were going to be his teammates, lying about his abilities probably wasn’t the best way to go. “No, you’re just bad at stealth,” he replied, deadpan. “How did you even find me? No, wait, let me guess—camera outside my house?”

“Tracker on your suit, actually,” Tiger said. Despite the mask covering her face, he could sense her guilt, which didn’t help his case. “We can’t learn to work together if you keep running away from us.”

“Running? I wasn’t running,” he said defensively. “And if you want us to work together, the best place to start is to tell me your name.”

“You already know my name.”

“Your other name.”

“Ah.” Her head tilted up. The high ponytail coming out the back of her head flicked to the side as nodded. “White Tiger.”

“A bit simplistic, but to the point.” He nodded in mock-approval. “Makes me think I should’ve just named myself Radioactive Spider.”

She didn’t take the bait, which was probably for the better. “So, what?” Nova asked, and Vernon was suddenly reminded of how infuriating his voice was. “Are you just going to stand around all night?”

“Swing around, actually,” he said. “It’s a big place. Sooner or later, I’m bound to find a crime happening. Sometimes it even happens to me.”

As if on cue, sirens sounded in the distance, loud and piercing. He shrugged at the three, before turning around and balancing himself on the edge. “If you want to get some real-world experience, there’s nothing better than stopping a petty robbery,” he said. “I hope you can keep up—because I’m not going to slow down.”

And he dived.

There was that feeling again, the air pressure against his body as he fell headfirst like a comet towards the busy street. A couple of people looked up as he pulled up at the last moment, shooting webs at an overhead lamppost and swinging in a circle around it before letting go, launching his body into the air again.

He looked over the rooftops as he swung, half-curious about how the others were going to follow. A small, white-clad figure leaped from building to building with surprising grace and strength, able to match him in speed. Nova flew alongside him, carrying Iceman again, who still wasn’t using his powers. Vernon knew it wasn’t a case of loss of powers either, because then he wouldn’t be here, and plus, he’d seen the guy in action this morning. Was he trying to remain inconspicuous?

The less people know Iceman’s in town, the better, he thought, though he knew it was a futile effort. The Rhino fight in the morning hadn’t had any live coverage, but he knew for all its lectures, S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t going to bother with hiding its tracks either. School next day was probably going to be buzzing with talk about the new superheroes.

He gritted his teeth. All this in a day. He could imagine how bad everything was going to get in the coming days.

Mid-swing, he saw the crime happening up ahead, a group of masked men trying to break into a store through the back door in a poorly-lit area. Vernon balanced on a high lamppost without alerting them, taking a moment to assess the situation. There were about eight men in balaclavas—a lot for a simple robbery. Maybe they were first-timers. Easy enough to take down.

“A record store?” he wondered aloud, and one of the guys whirled around, looking up at him with wide eyes. “What are you guys doing stealing from record stores?”

“Spider-Man!” one of them yelled, though he didn’t really see the point, since anyone who hadn’t noticed him yet probably deserved whatever was coming.

The man who had noticed him first fumbled for something along his hip before pulling out a gun and pointing it at him. “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!”

“Oh, no, don’t shoot!” he called out, and the man’s taut shoulders relaxed somewhat before Vernon shot a web straight at the gun, jerking it right out of his hand. “Can’t believe you fell for that.”

He jumped, landing on the ground in a crouch. The leader of the little group, the one who had been trying to bust open the door with a crowbar, stepped forward, swinging said crowbar in what Vernon guessed was supposed to be a menacing way. “Step aside,” he said to his men, his eyes narrowed on Vernon. “I’ll take care of the Spider.”

Vernon was so amused he let the guy attempt to swing at him, dodging the crowbar at the last moment. “Okay, not gonna lie,” he said. “When you called me the Spider, it made me feel kind of sexy.”

He kicked the robber in the side, sending him flying into a trashcan. The rest of the group hesitated only a moment before closing in again. Vernon webbed the lid of the trashcan, swinging it around like a shot-put player and knocking back some of them, before he let go, sending it crashing into one.

Nova dropped Felix in the midst of the group, and his skin slowly solidified into ice. “Okay, playtime’s over now,” he said. “If you just give up, I won’t have to bash your heads in.”

“Where did you come from?” one of the men asked, clearly surprised, right before Iceman froze him into a life-sized ice sculpture.

Vernon knocked out another man with a good old punch to the face. His spider sense buzzed. The crowbar guy, he thought as he whirled around, hands spread in shooting position, but White Tiger was already there, slicing through his crowbar with her claws. “Thanks,” he murmured, as she put him out of commission with a well-placed roundhouse.

She inclined her head. “Don’t get distracted.”

He turned, seeing Nova’s fists start to glow as he aimed at the guy who was attempting to sneak away. Vernon’s eyes landed behind him, where an unsuspecting civilian car was coming down the street. “No!” he yelled, webbing a surprised Nova to the wall.

“Hey, man, what the heck?!” Nova yelled back, struggling against the webs. Vernon shot web fluid at the guy who had been trying to escape, wrapping him up like a cocoon. There was the muffled sound of something heavy falling as Tiger drop-kicked the last one, cleanly finishing what he admitted would otherwise have taken longer. She leaped across the street, slicing through the webs covering Nova, who dropped to the sidewalk.

“What the hell was that for?” he asked, stalking up to Vernon with his fists clenched. “I had that guy!”

“No, you almost sent him crashing into that car,” Vernon said, gesturing at the vehicle behind him that now passed unharmed. “When in a fight, civilians are always first priority. They can’t defend themselves like us.”

Nova scowled, but turned on his heel and marched away, muttering something about him stealing the glory. Vernon watched him go with a frown, then turned around.

One of the robbers lay webbed-up, two quite literally frozen in place, five knocked out. The fight had taken a total of about two minutes—not a record, but considering the number they were going against, surprisingly efficient. He wasn’t even sure if this classified as a fight or simply a one-sided beatdown.

Overkill, he thought, then sighed. “You people have a lot to learn.”

“Oh, come on,” Iceman said. He seemed energized after the fight as his skin melted back to normal, a lively glint in his eye where there hadn’t been one a few minutes ago. “That was so much fun.”

“Yeah, but you have to learn to care about collateral damage,” he snapped, trying and failing to hide his annoyance. Now that he wasn’t swinging alone, crime-fighting wasn’t half as fun, even if it was twice as fast. Having someone watch his back was safe, sure, but it could lead to him letting his guard down. And what if he ended up somewhere alone? “You’re fast, but we’re not fighting in a vacuum. We’re not fighting a war, we’re protecting people. That’s supposed to be the most important thing—making sure no one gets hurt.”

“Even these guys?” Nova asked, toeing one of the unconscious robbers.

“Yeah, even these guys,” Vernon said. “Well, they can be hurt a little bit, but that’s only because there’s no other way to stop them. Next time, make sure you’re not letting any innocent people get in the way of your fun.”

The group fell silent. He almost felt bad about killing their enthusiasm, but Nova’s recklessness had managed to give him a scare. One more second and he might have had a death on his conscience.

The sirens were closer now. He’d completely forgotten about the cops; web-slinging was a much faster method of travel than cars, and he almost always left them behind. “Come on,” he told the others, casting one last glance around the scene. Something felt off, but he guessed it was just the novelty of working in a team. Fun day. “The police will find them. Let’s go.”

[exoxobsession]

Storm || One-Shot

Pairing: Kyungsoo x You

Genre: Fluff, HogwartsAU! (forgive me!)

Warnings: None! (The only warning is that it’s bad)

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I’m not very good at writing fluff so i kept it to a bare minimum. Sorry for the terrible fic. I just wanted a Kyungsoo one and was in Harry Potter mood so...here goes nothing.

You took a deep breath as you walked through the grand doors of the castle along with many others. Being a muggle-born, you didn’t know what the Wizarding World was like. Professor McGonagall led the group up to where a hat sat on a chair. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool, to be sorted,” Professor McGonagall says.

Everything was a blur until they called your name. You walked up nervously, hands sweating as you rubbed them together. “Hm, a muggle-born I see. You’re intelligent, you have a lot of wisdom, yes. But you’re very brave too. RAVENCLAW!” the hat decides.

You make your way to the table filled with blue and bronze.

That was how your Hogwarts adventure started. You were a Ravenclaw, who was supposed to be intelligent and have a lot of wisdom. ‘That stupid sorting hat got it wrong’ you thought. You weren’t as intelligent as the other Ravenclaws. You were average. But what you were good at and enjoyed was Quidditch. You were the seeker for Ravenclaw. Some even say that you were their good luck charm. No, you didn’t win every match, but the average increased.

Today you were late to practice because of Professor Snape. Running through hallways as you bumped into people, you turned back and shouted a sorry as you sprint across. Before you could turn back, you bumped into someone making you fall on the person. You were about to curse at the person before you saw him Do Kyungsoo. Your crush for three years. Panic settled in you as you scrambled yourself away from the boy. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I was in a rush and, sorry!” you babbled as you bowed to him furiously.

He laughed it off; you swear you’ve never seen this boy laugh in the four years of you attending Hogwarts. He was serious and looked like he would kill someone every time you saw him. “It’s fine, but you seem to be in a hurry. You should go,” he said as you just stared at his beautiful face. His features were perfect, his beautiful owl eyes, his heart-shaped lips, his soft hair, and his- a cough brought you back to reality as you Kyungsoo’s flushed cheeks. You must’ve been staring for too long. “Right, I should go, and um, sorry again,” you said awkwardly and hurried away from him.

You finally reached the Quidditch pitch, panting. You never ran that fast in your entire life, not even when a bulldog chased you for a whole seven minutes. “Are you okay, Y/N?” Jongin came up to you and asked. “All fine.” was your response. Then the Gryffindor team left.

The Golden Snitch was thrown into the air, your eyes not leaving it for a second at all. Then it moved away from you, going behind you. You tried your hardest to look out for it, but if you couldn’t see it and it was harder when grey clouds started forming. You flew higher, thinking it would be easier to spot it. Finally, you saw a tiny shimmer of gold; you took off, going at a higher pace. Finally,  catching that snitch.

As soon as you caught the snitch, the rain started pouring. You all hurried back to the castle, though everyone was wet.  Back in the dorms, some opting to play wizard chess, some homework, and others just talking, you wanted to get some sleep.

You were down as soon as you hit the bed.

In the morning you weren’t awoken by the sounds of birds singing, no, but the rumble of the thunder outside. But the thunder was outside. Not inside, so the classes must go on. Yay. Still sleepy as ever, you went to the washroom to freshen up.

You checked your timetable, seeing that Potions was the first class today. You tagged along with your friends instead of going like a loner. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kyungsoo and his friends pass by. Chanyeol and Jongdae? You weren’t sure of the names, but you knew they loved annoying him.

You remember the first time you met him. It was the day you were first attending Hogwarts. You got on the train and was awe the ancient feeling; you didn’t see his suitcase there, and being the klutz you are, you tripped. Being the kind human being he is, he offered you his Licorice Wand and some Chocolate Frogs, though you kept refusing; saying he had to make it up to you.

Every interaction you had with him was mostly you tripping, either physically or with words. Professor Snape’s voice rang through the class, startling you. “Today, you’ll be making Amortentia, and I expect none of you to mess up cauldrons, understood?”

You knew you would get partnered. But not with Kyungsoo. What would happen if you messed up? Or maybe you were staring at his face too long? Amid you worrying, he came over and guided you to one cauldron at the back. “You make it while I read out the ingredients,” you said without stuttering or getting distracted by his face. He just smiled. You started reading the ingredients to you both were done in no time.

“Done already, Mr. Do?” Professor Snape asked as he moved to us. “Now, tell me what it smells like,” he said to both of us. Kyungsoo went first, bending so he could smell it properly, “It smells like the woody scent of a broomstick handle, licorice wands, and the smell after rain, sir.” he said, as he straightened up.

“You, Ms. Y/N.,” he said, his gaze hardening more than it was. “I smell chocolate frogs, the smell of old books and…” you could smell his cologne. You weren’t sure if it was because he was beside you or if it was from the cauldron. “Great job, you can leave now.” he walked away.

You quickly got out in case he decides to changes his mind. “That was like something that happens only in a lifetime,” he chuckled. “Yeah.” you smiled, but the booming sound of the thunder caught you off guard, making you visibly flinch. Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough already?

Awkwardness soon settled in. Just the sound of your footsteps echoing through the hallways. You tried to think of something to talk to about when he spoke, “You were in a hurry yesterday. Did you get wherever you were going?” he asked as he cutely tilted his head. This boy was going to be the end of you. “Yeah, I was late to Quidditch practice because of Snape, no it was because of that stupid Baekhyun.” his face hardened at the end of your sentence. “You know Baekhyun? But he’s a Gryffindor, and he’s 5th year, right?” he questioned.

“Yeah, he is and isn’t your friend, Chanyeol, was it? He’s in Gryffindor too and, he’s 4th year.” you retorted. “Touché.” he gave up to which you smiled. “But we aren’t even friends, even though we’re from the same house,” he grumbled under his breath. It was inaudible to you, to you who was way up in the clouds.

There was only one more class, but you were beyond drained, exhausted, to even hear Baekhyun and his nonsense. “Are you even listening?” he frowned. “I love you and all, Baek but, I’m tired.” you groaned. “When are you not?” he rolled his eyes. “I heard you and Kyungsoo were partners in Potions.” he grinned stupidly while raising his eyebrows up and down. “Oh, shut up, you cockroach, plus he has a girlfriend.”

“What did you call me? A cockroach? This beautiful face and body looks like a cockroach to you?” he said in disbelief as he started chasing you around. You ran to your next class, but before you could even make it in, he grabbed you by the waist and started tickling you. “Take it back!” he shouted, still not stopping. “Fine! Fine…” you exclaimed, still trying to catch your breath. He let go of you at last.

“But your still a cockroach!” you said, sticking your tongue out and entering the classroom because you knew he wouldn’t come in here. “Yah!” was all you heard after you came in. That idiot can put a smile on your face no matter what. You felt someone staring at you, so you turned back, seeing the only Do Kyungsoo looking at you with a stony stare that sent chills up your spine.

Throughout the class, you felt his eyes on you. But when you looked back, he would look at the front or talking to the pretty Hufflepuff girl. When he was doing the latter, jealously built up in the pit of your stomach. It was his girlfriend.

Class ended quickly, but all you could hear through the class was his deep laugh. But you weren’t the reason. You’ve never seen him laugh that much. Or smile. You make your way to the Great Hall. Finishing your meal quickly, you walk back to go to bed.

Soon everyone started filling in, changing, and sleeping. You were about to head to dreamland when you heard the thunder roaring. You flinched, again and again, every time there was a noise. After a good few minutes, you sat up to see if anyone of your friends were awake, but no luck there. You heard the fireplace cackle, and you went to see if anyone was in the common room.

As you reached the bottom step, you stubbed your toe, which made you yelp, and the person on the couch turn. It was Kyungsoo. “You okay?” he asked, worry flashing in his eyes. Nodding, you ambled to the couch. Opting for the other side rather than anywhere closer.

“Can’t sleep?” he questioned, turning to look at you as the shades of red of the fire fell on his face. “The storm and the noises are keeping me up,” you answered. Then silence, just the fire burning, and the lightning clapping. “You could smell Baekhyun in the potion, right?” he decided to break the ice once again. You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Baekhyun was your best friend and nothing more.

“What’s so funny?” he frowned. “It’s… it’s so funny you think I like Baekhyun. He’s nothing more than my best friend, Kyungsoo.” you said, his name rolling off your tongue beautifully. “Then who did you smell?” this question caught you off guard.

“W-What?” you stuttered. “I don’t know if I’m being too straightforward here, but…” you waited for him to continue, raising your eyebrows as to tell him to go on. “It was you, Y/N. I’ve liked you ever since that day where-”

“You like me too?” you asked in a low voice. “Wait, what? ” he asked,  confused. “I’ve liked you since 1st year,” you said, feeling your face go hot. “What about your girlfriend then?” you asked quickly remembering. “I broke up with her, but we decided to stay friends.” he chuckled lightly. “For me?” you looked down at your hands.

He put his hand under your chin lifting your head, and softly landed his plump lips on yours.

You thanked the storm out there because without it he wouldn’t be yours.

[jkbabiey]

{JJK} Say it ⤇ 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing:  fuckboy!jungkook x student!reader

Word Count: ~2.1 K

Genre: we’ll keep up with the flirty tension and let’s add a bit of an awkward tension to the mix... just for fun ; college!AU

Warnings: Jungkook seems to be less of a dick and Y/N gets shy, she’s still a sweetheart. 

4th of March, 2023

Another typical saturday night. 

It was about midnight and you were, as usual, covered in anatomy books and human body scrawled papersheets. As much as you loved anatomy, you had to admit that along with interesting, it was a really exausting subject. You were incredibly sleepy from all the studying you’d been doing from at least 3 PM and all you wanted was to go to sleep, but you refused to give in to your desires, deciding to stay up at least for another hour. 

Yes, you were aware that probably - and most-certainly - you were sounding like a nerdy self-sabotaging bitch BUT you had a reason. You had an anatomy exam next week and you were determined to get the highest grade possible, even if it cost you some hours of sleep. And why was the reason behind that? Well... you had been holding a grudge... Yeah... In you previous anatomy exam - in wich you were close to getting the highest grade in class - your asshole professor had insinnuated that you had cheated just because he had seen you turn back to pick your fallen pen and though you were looking at your seatmate’s exam. You were -oh, so ready to get the highest grade of the class in this exam and freacking rub it in that dubass’ face.

You grabbed a handful of the crispy bacon chips you were using as a motivation to keep up the good work, furiously munching on them and preparing yourself to start reading another chapter of your favorite anatomy book, Gray’s Anatomy.

Before you got to read the first word something got your attention. You had never been so happy to receive a text from an unknown number in your life. This had to be a sign telling you to just go to sleep, for sure. You grabbed your phone instantly, dropping the heavy book on top of your sprailed thighs, finally finding an almost proper excuse to get away from your never-ending studies.

[Unknown number, 00:10 AM] - Hey princess

You didn’t take you long to remember the annoying man that approached you at the bar three weeks ago, probably because of the exact same choice of words he used the night he tried to seduce you.

[Unknown number, 0:10 AM] - Remember me?

You would be lying if you said you haven’t thought about him these days. His appearance was too good to just disappear from your mind in three mere weeks. Everything, from the way he looked to the cocky and snarky comebacks he spat after hearing you neglecting him multiple times that night was, unfortunately, attractive to you.

[You, 00:14 AM] - No.

You lied. 

It didn't take a lot of time for another message to pop up on your phone's screen.

[Unknown number, 00:15 AM] -  Come on, I know you've been thinking about me

Prick...

[You, 00:15 AM] - Tell me your name, and maybe I'll remember who you are.

Deep inside you knew that this wasn't the real reason why you were asking him his name. The truth was that you wanted to know a name, so you could associate his face – which you haven’t been able to stop thinking about for the last 21 days and it was honestly driving you insane – to a name.

[Unknow number, 00:15 AM] - I didn’t tell you my name, it wouldn't help baby

And, unhappily he was able to turn your little game against its own creator. 

That cunning little shit...

[Unknow number, 00:16 AM] - But we both know I haven’t left your mind these days

You were, once again, left bewildered staring at his text. He was a cocky, selfish, jackass that was completely full of himself.

You threw your phone on your sofa and tried to calm down. It was impressive how quickly he was able to get you all riled up. He literally just had to say something, anything, and you would already be thinking of ways to kill him. You wouldn’t say it out loud, but after that night you had been waiting for a call or a text. For his call or for his text, and that was the major factor that was holding you from telling him to fuck off right away. But you couldn’t blame yourself for thinking about him. He was annoying, yes he was. But he was also extremely hot, and if you’re being honest, you missed getting laid. You didn’t even remember the last time someone made you feel good in that way and you were definitely craving it. A woman has needs and, unfortunately, he filled all of your physical demands in a man even though you were selective, very selective.

And even after considering how physically needy you were at the moment, you decided to act against yourself once again that night and left him without any answer. The guy had already proven himself to be such a dick and as sexually needy as you coud be, you would never let someone like that get to touch one single inch of your body. 

You weren’t that needy, anyways...

7th of March, 2023

It was Tuesday today. You hated Tuesdays. Today you would have to endure two straight hours in the lab. Your microbiology professor wasn't the best, and his monotone way of talking just made it all worse. Usually you would have pretty much use this two hours to discretely close your eyes and try to sleep. 

That would have happened if your crush hadn't asked to sit next to you. Right now, sleep was the last thing on your mind. You were fixed on the way Jimin lurked into the microscope's ocular. The way he pursed his plump lips whenever he didn't get the outcome he wanted or the way he looked at you and smiled softly from time to time. 

When class ended, Jimin got up from his seat and turned to you.

"Hey, do you want to come get coffee with me?" 

Your eyes widened and your lips instantly parted, shocked by his invitation. How come the hottest and sweetest guy in your class was asking you on a date?

"Yes, of course!" 

You cringed internally hearing how desperate that answer had probably sounded to him, but the smile on your face never faded. You threw your books and all the other stuff you could recognize as yours into your black leather bag and quickly walked beside him.

You bit your red velvet muffin cautiously, sipping on your black coffee right away. You were trying to look pretty in front of Jimin. He had been your crush since you started med school. He had catched you eye immediately. He wasn’t the type of guy to try to get people’s attention, but he did, naturally. You two had been sitting in that coffee shop for about 15 minutes already and you were completely enchanted by his sweet and delicate ways. He was every girl's dream and you couldn't deny that you were a part of that crowd. He was absolutely dreamy and you were absolutely entranced in his whole appearance. 

"So... I noticed you haven't been dating anyone for a really long time now..." he smirked at you and waited patiently for your answer. 

The thing is, you couldn't really answer him. You had been caught off guard. You didn't know he would be this direct.

"Right," you murmured, completely flustered by his sudden approach to your love life.

"Don't be so shy, we're friends Y/N!"

Your expression fell immediately after hearing his words. And then came the sudden realization that this was not romantic. This wasn’t a freaking date.

"Maybe, I can introduce some of my friends to you! I'm pretty sure, anyone would love to date you, you’re absolutely gorgeous!"

His words pissed you off, but you didn't say a thing, displaying the smalles and most polite ever instead. How could he say you were gorgeous right after friendzoning you?

After that neither of you say a thing and just kept eating the food he insisted on buying until you noticed him squinting his eyes to see something behind you. 

"What are you looking at?" you asked, way more harshly than you had intended to sound, but he didn’t seem to notice, anyway.

"I think that's a friend of mine..." he hummed and squinted his eyes even harder. He had some vision problems, but he refused to wear his glasses - even though they looked great on him, what a surprise...

This was just what was missing  in tjis “date”, someone to take his attention from you. Definitely not a date.

"Really?" you asked sharply, looking at him in pure boredom. You knew you didn't have any right to be mad at him, but how are you supposed to react when your crush of 1 whole year says he could ask one of his friends to go on a date with you, just before saying your “absolutely gorgeous”?

"Yeah... I think it's Jungkook," he said, still waiting for his friend to finish paying his coffee and turn around, so he could see if he was or not the person he expected.

You rolled your eyes and looked over your shoulder, curious to see who Jimin was talking about, and just as you did it, your eyes locked with the familiar wide and shiny eyes from three weeks ago. You felt the exact same electricity you had felt that night in the bar and instantly turned your eyes back to Jimin, in hopes 'Jungkook' was someone else, anyone else. But when you turned back to Jimin, he was already standing up and opening his arms, ready to hug whoever his friend was. You still hoped and asked the Gods for his friend to be someone else, but not him.

"Jungkook!"

Jimin was so excited that you could see the glint in his eyes as he almost screamed his friend's name.

All your hopes died when you sensed his presence next to you, engulfing Jimin in a bear hug

"Hey man! Haven't seen you in a while!" he whispered into Jimin's hair loud enough for you to hear. His voice was very different from the one you remembered from the bar. It was much softer now.

"Yeah..." Jimin hummed softly into his friend's chest and when they parted from their tight and long hug, Jimin's eyes landed on you

"This is Y/N, she's a friend from uni. Y/N, this is Jungkook, he's my best friend, " Jimin stated and winked at you, remembering your dialogue from earlier. You could feel the heat in your cheeks and the color on them was probably pretty visible as well.

"Hey Y/N," he greeted as if he hadn’t ever seen you before in his life and trained his eyes on you to watch your reaction.

Well, your reaction was probably up to everything he was waiting. You coughed awkwardly and quickly sipped on your coffee so you could get rid of the annoying dryness that had settled on your throat. You looked over at Jimin, that wriggled his brows at you and winked discreetly. You decided to ignore him and in the meantime Jungkook’s smirk grew wider. You could physically see he was dying to make fun of you.

"Hey..." you answered quietly, after a long time. 

Jungkook chuckled and broke his stare from you, looking at Jimin

"I have to go but I'll call you later," he said while giving a large bite to his donut before sipping on his coffee.

"Stay a bit longer! You should meet Y/N, she's pretty cool," Jimin answered quickly, trying to hold his friend back, while your cheeks burdened even harder. Jungkook chuckled quietly again and answered his friend

"Can't, class starts in..." he looked at his clock to check the time he had left and his eyes widened "-fuck, I have 2 minutes" he looked between me and Jimin and muttered a little 'I’ll call you later', before running to get to his class quickly.

Jimin laughed a bit and ran his fingers through his blonde locks.

"I think there was some chemistry" he stated teasingly and you shot him a threatening look, trying to fight the smile that tried to creep up your face. 

“Shut up,” you muttered, suddenly feeling a lot more comfortable in Jimin’s presence. The awkwardness from before, now totally gone. 

"He's majoring in criminal justice, he’s actually a very smart guy..." he stated excitedly

"I don't care Jimin..." you said after chuckling lightly at his efforts

"Shut up, you liked him!" he screeched and hit you softly on the arm

"No, I didn't" you murmured and sipped on your black coffee.

Well, at least Jungkook had a good taste in coffee.

You weren’t shocked when, at 5 PM, while you were enjoying your ride home in the subway, you received another text from Jungkook. Being the little brat he already showed he was, there was no way he was going to let this opportunitie of making fun of you slide. You had that figured out as soon as he left the coffee shop earlier that day.

[Unknown number, 5:00 PM] - You didn’t seem very brave today.

You sighed, wondering what you were supposed to answer. Well, yeah... How the fuck were you supposed to act brave when, first of all, you were by nature too socially awkward, and second of all, you had been under his stare, which was too intimidating for you to say something longer than ‘hey’. 

[You, 5:01 PM] - You also weren’t as dickish as you seem to be.

[Jungkook, 5:01 PM] - I am not dickish!

[You, 5:04 PM] - Of course you’re not.

[Jungkook, 5:05 PM] - Give me one date.

Your eyes-widened and you choked in the chocolate milk you were drinking. The sixty-year-old man seated in front of you sending you a slightly disgusted look, to wich you answered with a nervous smile.

[You, 5:06 PM] - Do you think you can woo me in one date?

[Jungkook, 5:08 PM] - If you want me to take you on more than one date, that’s alright...

You couldn’t help but laugh at his response. How the hell did he find ways to turn every single thing in his favour?! That was seriously a gift from god, and you weren’t even religious.

[You, 5:09 PM] - Oh my god, pls shut up

[Jungkook, 5:11 PM] - One date and i won’t talk to you anymore today

[You, 5:12 PM] - One date and you won’t talk to me the whole week.

[Jungkook, 5:12 PM] - Deal.

[alleiradayne]

Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story…

THE MIDNIGHT RIDE

Long is our list of ghost stories laid to rest. But when the dark rider returns thirty years after his exorcism at the hands of the Winchesters, Sam, Dean, and I are faced with the possibility that we’ve been wrong about one thing.

Some urban legends never die.

Part IV - The Midnight Ride

Summary: The end of an era. Warnings/Tags: Some fluff, general elements of horror and fear, graveyards, brushes with death again... Characters/Pairings: First Person Female!Reader/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Word Count: 5,104

"You alright?"

Lost in thought, I had hardly heard Sam. But the warmth of his presence roused me from my stupor. I shook my head and rubbed the burn from my eyes as I spoke. "Yeah, I… I'm just exhausted. And this research isn't exactly entertaining."

Sam took a seat beside me at the small motel table and pulled his chair so close I might as well have sat in his lap. The warmth of one massive hand enveloped mine, and he set the other on my bouncing knee. That quake subsided beneath his touch, something no other person in my life had managed. But then a sudden awareness sent a shiver down my spine, and I scanned the motel room, searching. Sam, perceptive as ever, answered my unasked question. "Dean's in the shower. He'll be a while. We've got some time. To talk. Only if you—"

I didn't want to talk. At all. What I wanted betrayed every common sense I had. At that moment, I’d do whatever I could, use whatever magic at Sam’s disposal, make a deal with Rowena, anything to cleanse last night's stain of indelible memories from my mind. And yet, I knew those options were anything but. Between Sam’s apparent affection for me and Dean’s overprotective brotherly nature, neither would allow me to harm myself willingly just to get rid of a few nightmares.

But as I stared into Sam’s prismatic gaze, the desire to replace those memories, to shadow them with newer, happier moments, overpowered me.

No. I didn’t want to talk. So, instead, I kissed him.

Myriad descriptions, all vastly varied from one to the next, could never capture the feeling of Sam's lips on mine. I could regale you with comparison after comparison. But none of them would do him justice. Though the moment lasted but a breath, eons passed in that explosive connection where I knew and felt and lived a thousand lifetimes with him. I wanted to do nothing more in that breath than melt into him forever.

My tablet chirped, and the case loomed at the edge of my subconscious. All those imaginary lifetimes vanished as I parted from him, replaced by a cruel reality. Not that I'd squander a reality that consisted of Sam Winchester's love. Or his crooked grin and half-lidded gaze.

"Good talk."

Despite my sour mood, I laughed. "I'm glad we could come to an understanding."

His fingers slipped between mine as he spoke. "Thing is, I forgot… what I said about us last night. When I asked if you wanted to talk now, I meant about what happened to you."

"Oh." Well, shit.

I have never known a person wiser, more emotionally aware than Sam. And Dean often gave him a run for his money. But after all the years hunting together, Sam and I operated on an uncannily similar wavelength. The guy read me like an open book. And when I balked at recounting my harrowing journey beyond the veil, he understood without another word.

"Only if you want," he repeated with a reassuring squeeze of my thigh. "Otherwise, I wouldn't mind a little more of your…" he paused with a coy smirk as his eyes darted to my lips and back. "... preferred method of communication."

"I…" My tablet chirped once more, obliterating the one desire I'd felt in months. "Sam, I promise, we make it out of this case alive, I won't leave your bedroom for a week."

His smile widened as he said, "Only if we spend the following week in yours."

I kissed him again, a little harder, more insistent. Parted, I agreed. "Done."

My tablet chimed for the third time, and I turned to it at last. Sam pointed at the screen and said, "What's cockblocking me?"

Though I laughed, a furious sting prickled my cheeks at the thought of Sam's… I forced the imagery from my mind and decidedly focused on the tablet instead of his face. "I was emailing the curator at the museum. She just sent me some documents about Sleepy Hollow's history."

"Oh?" Sam mused. "Anything worthwhile?" He reached for his laptop, pulled it across the table, and flipped up the lid.

When I opened the attached documents, my heart sank. They merely verified much of what I'd already learned. "Sleepy Hollow was a part of the Tarrytown settlement, originally called North Tarrytown. Most of this information is just facts and history about the town. While the Ichabod Crane story is all rooted in it, the urban legends and folklore are only related so far as this jackass on a horse with no head."

"Not surprising," Sam stated.

"No,” I whined, “but it is a little disheartening that he has next to nothing to do with the town he haunts.”

Sam nodded, then said, “There might be more, though. Earlier this morning, I read that Washington Irving was born in Manhattan. He traveled for many years, but he eventually returned to New York and lived out the rest of his life in Sleepy Hollow. He's buried in that cemetery."

"I suppose," I replied, "but I was looking for something a little more concrete than the author lived and died here. Like actual people that Irving modeled his characters after. Or other legends. He traveled in Europe for quite some time. There's even a Scandanavian story, The Wild Hunt, that has the same throughline. A headless rider that lobs his head at people."

Sam piqued at that, eyes narrowed and head tilted. "But Ichabod Crane is the original telling of the story here. Right?"

I nodded. "Forgetting that it's a hodgepodge of cultural ghost stories, yes."

He laughed at that. "I haven’t read it since I was a kid.”

“Me neither,” I replied. “I only know bits and pieces.”

Dean burst from the bathroom at that, a towel wrapped around his head and one about his waist. “Ichabod Crane was a new school teacher in Sleepy Hollow. And he was hellbent on marrying a woman, Katrina, who was set to inherit her father's very wealthy farm estate.”

"Oh," I mused with a mocking smirk at Sam. "Sounds like we have an expert in our midst."

Dean waved me off as he dug through his bag at the end of the bed. "Sam knows it, too. Right?"

“Yeah," Sam started, "there was another suitor, though. Arthur Van Brunt. He went by Brom Bones Van Brunt.” He paused as he stood. “It’s kind of funny, really, this story reads like a high school drama. The lanky geeky nerd and the oafish jock fight over a girl. Except they never get into the physical altercation Brom wanted. He goaded Ichabod constantly, pulling pranks on him. But Ichabod never took the bait.”

I looked at my tablet, where a black and white photograph of a man stared back at me, then returned to them both. Dean withdrew a change of clothes from his bag, then headed back to the bathroom. Through the open door, he said, “So the story goes, Ichabod went to a party at the Van Tassel farm where he intended to woo and win over Katrina. Brom, instead, scares the living piss out of him with a bunch of ghost stories, one of which was the Headless Horseman.”

“Yeah, I remember that much,” I said. “And then he tried to propose to Katrina, but she shot him down.”

“Exactly,” Sam chimed. “I love how ambiguous the ending is here. Ichabod leaves the party all upset about Katrina. He gets on his horse, Gunpowder, who is very skittish, and heads home. But the Hessian shows up and chases him. Ichabod had just learned the legend, so he heads for the bridge near the Old Dutch Burying Ground. He knows the spirit can’t cross the bridge. Ichabod would have made a decent hunter.”

Dean’s laughter echoed from the bathroom, and he emerged dressed and hair coiffed. “I forgot how innocent this story is. He gets to the bridge and crosses it, but the Hessian hurls his freakin’ head at him before disappearing. The head domes Ichabod and knocks him off his horse. Nobody ever finds his body. Only his hat, Gunpowder’s wrecked saddle, and a randomly smashed pumpkin were found near the bridge.”

A thought bubbled up in the back of my mind and raced to my lips. “So that’s where the jack-o-lantern head comes from. What if… holy shit, what if it was just a prank gone wrong? What if Brom was playing another trick on him and accidentally killed Ichabod?”

Hesitation stalled them both as Sam and Dean regarded one another. Then Dean turned to me and asked, “That does not explain what the hell happened last night. No fucking way that was a prank.”

I hated it, but I knew he was right. “But then what the hell! I’m almost beginning to think it is a tulp—”

“It’s notta tulpa!” Sam shouted. Dean clamped a hand over his mouth, and his shoulders shook with uncontrollable laughter. Sam rounded on him and barked, “Shut up!”

“I can’t help it,” Dean managed through peeling laughter. “Your Arnold impression is improving.”

“C’mon, guys, we need to figure this out,” I groaned.

Dean settled through a deep breath, although his face remained far too red. Sam slumped into his seat again, his stare glazing over, unseeing. When he remained silent, Dean said, “Alright, let’s say they’re spirits. And it’s still this mess of combined ancient myths, ghost stories, and cultural legends. We’re still on the same page there, right?”

Sam and I nodded slowly. “After what happened last night, there’s no way they’re anything else.”

“If they’re spirits that haven’t moved on, we have to burn the bodies,�� I stated.

“Or destroy an object that might be keeping them topside,” Dean added.

Scrambled thoughts rattled through my mind as I ran down a list of objects. I soon found myself lost in a warren of possibilities, and as I stared ahead at my tablet, equally dazed as Sam. An answer picked at the edge of my subconscious, like a half-remembered dream. No matter how hard I tried to grasp it, the thought slipped through my hand like water.

“None of it is real.”

From the corner of my eye, I glared at Sam. He remained still, his glassy far-off stare yet unfocused as he spoke. "It's all stories. They're all stories that are too much of a mess for a tulpa. So none of it is real. Whatever these spirits have latched onto, it's nothing from those stories." 

With his words, the image on my tablet clarified as my mind focused. Understanding crept along my skin, raising gooseflesh in its wake. I stood then, spurred to my feet, and spoke. “The unmarked grave never mattered. It’s fake.”

Sam nodded. “There aren’t any bodies to burn because those bodies never existed to begin with.”

“It’s all fairy tales and make-believe bullshit,” Dean declared.

I looked first to Sam, then Dean, then back to my tablet, where an image of Washington Irving filled the screen. I turned the tablet to face them, and all at once, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Together, we spoke.

“Death of the author.”

Never in my entire life had I wished to be anywhere else more than at that very moment.

Three stark-white flashlights illuminated a grand headstone, memorialized by the town of Sleepy Hollow, for one Washington Irving. After so many years without care, overgrowth covered much of the base, and the stone desperately needed a washing. Beyond that, none of us made a single move to start the arduous process of digging five feet into the earth. We simply stood there, silent as the dead beneath our boots.

"Either of you uncomfortable with this?" Dean asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Sam and I replied.

Dean started towards the headstone and said, "Good. Glad it's not just me. Something about this feels wrong."

"It's because we've never seen someone's spirit manifest as anything other than itself," Sam stated. "We're literally digging up a guy because his spirit might have transfigured into characters from his own story."

"Can spirits even do that?" I asked as I scanned the treeline of the graveyard. Though dense fog had choked the grounds last night, literal clouds suffocated the entire cemetery where we stood. "That seems like a lot of power for a single spirit."

Dean posted at the head of the grave. "Only one way to find out." He pocketed his flashlight and hefted his shovel. When he saw us still standing at the foot of the plot, he said, "I'm not digging this grave on my own."

Despite the need to end such a vengeful spirit, I had little motivation to help. Slower than necessary, I picked up my shovel and shuffled to the center of the plot. Sam stepped in behind me, shovel at the ready.

Dean raised his shovel to his waist. Before he moved further, a distant, indiscernible sound echoed through the woods. What was once visible of the nearby treeline no longer was. That thick fog filled the darkness, and I saw neither trees nor sky nor stars. I heard the sound again, too far to tell what it was, but not far enough to miss. My flashlight shook violently as I spun about, but I found nothing besides the Impala behind us.

I turned back to Dean just in time to watch as he plunged his shovel's blade into the dirt. Agonizingly slow, it descended each inch slower than the last. That distant sound echoed once more, ever so slightly closer. As though he conducted an orchestra, that sound crescendoed into an unbearable scream as Dean’ shovel descended until metal returned to the earth.

Earsplitting thunder exploded overhead, and instinct forced all three of us to our knees. That booming drum rolled, mutated until it rumbled through the ground. I knew that sound, too familiar with the feel reverberating through my feet. A fresh wave of icy dread coursed through my veins as those thundering hooves pounded the dirt.

Over the headstone, I pointed my flashlight as I stood. Terror incarnate barreled through the graveyard astride his deathly steed. Above his head, a readied missile sprouted flames as he raced towards us. Every instinct screamed to run. Fuck everything about the legend, the haunting, just get the hell out of there.

But I couldn't move. Frozen solid, I merely gripped my flashlight and shivered.

"Run!"

Dean's shove launched me into Sam's arms, kickstarting my senses. I sprinted for the Impala, desperate for her salvation. I reached it a beat behind Sam and Dean and dove into the backseat. The engine roared to life with a sharp snarl as Dean twisted the ignition. He wrenched down on the shifter, slammed on the gas, and I launched into the backrest as the car sped off in reverse.

"What are you doing?!" I screamed.

"What I should have done last night!" he barked.

I opened my mouth to demand a better answer but only managed to scream and gesticulate wildly. The Headless Horseman vaulted Washington Irving's headstone and, in one smooth motion, launched his flaming cannonball directly at the car.

The sickening crunch of iron on steel paled in comparison to Dean's wail of rage. He threw the wheel to the left, and I grasped onto the backrest as the car lurched, spinning about-face. The transmission groaned in protest as Dean threw the shifter into drive and slammed on the gas once more. With all her horses leaping down the road, the Impala raced into the night, and I flattened against the backseat.

"Mother fucking piece of shit ghost!" Dean bellowed. "Fucking hit my car with a god damned cannonball! I’ll kill you! Do you hear me?!"

“Dean, just watch where you’re going!” Sam shouted as he braced against the backrest and the frame of the car.

The speedometer slid past eighty, and I gripped the leather backrest, nails scoring the supple hide. Sweat coated my palms, and my heart railed against my chest. "Dean, what the hell are you doing! You're going to get us killed!"

The fork in the road appeared around the sharp corner, and Dean roared, "Just trust me!" as he took the paved road to the left.

One hundred. The blinding flash of a memory overpowered my senses. Nearly forgotten, the dull vision replayed in my mind, muted, as though it belonged to someone else. A car sped along a country road. A dog. Spinning, careening, crashing. I screamed as my seatbelt failed. Blood pooled in the cornstalks beneath a sky so blue.

"Try to follow me now, you son of a bitch!"

Dean's voice snapped me back to reality. Behind us, the Headless Horseman gained, and his whip gathered with a flick of his wrist. The vicious bones uncoiled, and another memory threatened to take me under once more. It seemed that death had its own wish for me and would not rest until it came true. Another flash of a fresh memory consumed my senses, dragged me down to my own personal hell. But then a light emerged amidst the darkness, warm and enveloping. I opened my eyes to find Sam holding my hand.

"Focus, Y/N. Stay with me, we're gonna get through this, I promise."

"There's the bridge!" Dean shouted as he pointed. The engine whined, straining under his insistent foot. He glared in his rearview mirror as he growled, "Let's race, motherfucker."

The Impala raced over the transition from asphalt to old stone and wood, rattling the car from nose to rear end. Sam’s fingers turned ghastly white in my grip, but he paid that no mind. His focus remained steady, wide eyes staring into mine. Though he tried to reassure me, the roar of the Impala swallowed his words, and they fell on deaf ears. Like a moth to the flame, I turned back to the Headless Horseman one last time.

The coiled whip unfurled laboriously, each bone rolling over the next and slower than the last. That crawl, that agonizingly painful creep blurred the liminal space between truth and myth’s fabrication until nothing but a swathe of gray smeared reality. My mind filled in that blank void, and I knew then that death had arrived to collect his escaped prisoner.

But the end never came. That infinite second ticked by, lost to the endless depths of space and time as the car breached the end of the bridge. I braced myself against Sam as he reached over the backrest for me. Dean stood both feet on the brake, and the car lurched forward as the tires seized, shredding on the asphalt. When the deafening roar of the Impala faded to its soothing idle, I eased my grip on Sam's arms, and he returned to his seat. Dean checked both of us before scrambling from the car, and we followed not a beat behind.

In the center of the bridge, the Headless Horseman and his nightmare steed hung in the air, suspended mid-gallop. A deep purple glow seeped through the grouted stone surrounding the horse, and beneath his hooves, the bricks quaked. Violent flashes of an eerie green mist lanced from the cracks in the centuries-old rock and lashed the rider’s raised arms to drag him from his horse. Wrenched free of the saddle, he crashed to the stone, his metal armor clattering with a sickening crunch. I winced, unsure of what I was witnessing, an unwitting and unwilling voyeur.

But I forced myself to keep looking. I had to. I had to see it through to the end, to know without a shadow of a doubt that we had indeed laid such a vengeful spirit to rest.

The Hessian launched into the air with a vicious twist of the mysterious green lashes. Gale winds swept over the bridge, filling my nose with burning brimstone, and then the horse burst into flames. He screamed his unholy cry, and I startled into Sam's arms. Though I continued to watch, I cowered into him, and he held me close without a word. The vile inferno consumed the horse in seconds, reducing him to a pile of ash.

The rider convulsed as though in pain, writhing and contorting so awkwardly to be free of his bonds. Metal twisted, grinding and scraping against itself in his bid for escape. I realized then that, in his death throes, the Headless Horseman would emit no other sound. He could not beg for forgiveness nor absolution. He could not plead for his continued existence nor one last moment on earth. No last words with a loved one. And for a minuscule second, I pitied him.

Lightning fractured the sky as the purple glow between the bricks focused in a circle encompassing the rider. As the edges brightened, the bricks inside slipped away into an endless darkness. I had seen nothing like it in all my years hunting. And as the green bonds lowered him towards the void, he thrashed, deeply aware of the end that approached.

A scream rent from my mouth as an arm of sinew and bone and rotted flesh burst from the black depths and grasped the rider's leg. Metal collapsed like tissue paper beneath the fierce grip, and bone crumpled to dust. Another arm lunged for his chest and cleaved his breastplate in two, embedding in his ribs. A third nearly ripped his arm from its socket, his forearm crushed, and a fourth pierced his thigh. Those horrifying limbs dragged the Headless Horseman to his doom, jailors imprisoning their captive.

Feet, legs, and torso succumbed to the darkness, and a defeated stillness settled his ruined body. At last, his arms and headless shoulders sank beneath the zenith, and The Headless Horseman was no more. Like so many grains of sand through an hourglass, the ashes of his steed followed him into the void. 

A final flare of purple and green light surged as lightning illuminated the sky once more. Wind settled, and clouds parted to reveal a full, brilliant moon and a night sky full of glittering stars. At last, the void receded, and the bridge stood whole once more. The sounds of night creatures returned, and the clearing surrounding the bridge expanded as though it took a full, deep breath to hold, its first in thirty years.

Maybe, it knew. Just as I felt it in my bones, the trees, the stone, the tall grass, and the creek beneath the bridge all felt it down to their tiniest molecules. It was over. At long last, the Headless Horseman was no more.

For now.

A clattering of bones cut through the peaceful calm, and I flung my arms out ahead of Sam and Dean. Not that I would protect them from much of anything, what with nothing but my bare fists at the ready. Tension crept across my shoulders when I spotted the source of the sound, and the three of us scrambled backwards towards the car.

The bone whip rattled to a stop a few feet from us, perfectly coiled with its handle extended towards my boots. I regarded Sam first, then Dean, only to then turn back for the Impala's trunk with a scoff. A readied can of salt lay on top of the stockpile, and I grabbed it as I grumbled to myself.

"Unless something's keeping it topside.” I slammed the trunk shut. “Gimme a break. Of course, something was keeping it here," I continued to myself as I stomped back to Sam and Dean. I prodded the latter in the shoulder and asked, "How? How the hell did you know?"

Dean shook his head as he held his lighter in one hand and withdrew a motel matchbook from his pocket. "I didn't. I didn't know the bridge would work. And I didn't know the whip had anything to do with it. I just had a—"

"Remember the last time I had a hunch and convinced you to drive the Impala over a hundred?" Sam interjected.

Before Dean could respond, I spoke. "Speaking of which…" I paused as I finished pouring a generous amount of salt on the neat pile of bones and snapped the can shut. "Don't ever drive that fast again."

Dean’s brow shot to his hairline as his jaw dropped. He gestured to the bridge, looked to it, then turned to the pile of bones and gesticulated wildly at them. After he stuttered the beginning of a few statements, he blurted, "What was I supposed to do?!"

"Not one-oh-five, that's for damn sure!" I stated. "We could have died!"

"We would have if I hadn't—"

"Alright, that's enough!" Sam interjected. "I'm sorry I brought it up. Let's just put this son of a bitch away for good this time."

"Yes, sir," Dean agreed. "One salt and burn, coming right up."

The book of matches took the flame of Dean's lighter with a sharp hiss. A flick of his wrist sent the little ball of fire cascading to the ground, and in a single beat of my heart, red consumed the world in a crimson concussion.

The ring in my ears faded, and the blinding light dimmed, darkness settling around us once more. Flat on my back, I stared up at the shimmering night sky, beyond dazed. When I sat up, Sam’s hollow voice called from afar. But the moment his touch soothed my shoulders, a shock of clarity rushed through me, and I saw he knelt over me.

“Talk to me, Y/N,” he repeated. “You okay?”

I thought for a moment, taking inventory once again. No broken bones, no blood. Not even a hint of pain despite the lingering soreness from the previous night. “I… I think so. What happened?”

Dean strode into view, an ornately gilded box cradled in his hands. He set it on the ground at his feet, and then I spotted it. The whip lay intact where it had rolled to a stop earlier. Salt scorched black cowered beneath the pale white bones as though frightened of its failure to purify the whip. I pointed at it and repeated myself. “What the fuck just happened?!”

Sam spoke when Dean hesitated. “It looks like the whip is protected. Somehow. Whether the Headless Horseman did it or it’s part of his curse, I’m not sure. And it’s irrelevant anyway. We’ll have to find some other way to destroy it.”

“But then… What happened last time? With your dad?” I asked as I stood. Sam hopped to my side once more, his gentle strength lifting me to my feet.

Metal rasped on metal, and my attention snapped to Dean. His hand rested atop the box, the metal gears working with fine clicks and clanks. When he removed his hand, the lid lifted half an inch and hissed a violent release of pressure. Of its own accord, the lid then continued to rise, revealing rich black velvet. Darker than night, the fabric lined the entire box, and it absorbed the moonlight, much like the void that had taken the Headless Horseman. When Dean withdrew a similar thick velvet cloth from the box, he spoke. “John did put the Headless Horseman away thirty years ago.” He paused as he grasped the whip with the velvet. Gingerly, he eased it into the box, then spread the cloth over it. The heavy lid shut with a hollow thunk and the metal gears worked once more, sealing shut on its own. “But, he came back.”

“Because of the whip?” I asked.

Dean nodded as hefted the box and turned for the Impala. Sam and I followed, eager to be on our way. Given our cargo, I doubted Dean would want to stay another night in Sleepy Hollow. Resolved, I figured I’d at least steal a pillow for the ride back.

We followed as Sam said, “We’ll take it back to the Bunker and find another way to destroy it.”

“Otherwise…” My question drifted, lingering like an unwanted guest that had overstayed their welcome.

With a grunt, Dean shoved the box into the trunk. “Otherwise, the next unlucky bastard that touches this thing will become the Headless Horseman.”

The terrifying implication settled in the pit of my stomach. An indestructible weapon possessing unwitting people. And yet, I knew that dichotomy well. Old as time, that one. The immovable object, an inanimate manifestation of immortality, meets the unstoppable force, the perpetual stupidity of human curiosity.

“We need to get on the road,” Dean stated as he shut the trunk, then strode for the driver’s door. There, he cried a soft, short sob and spoke to the car. “Oh, Baby, look at you. We’ll get you home and cleaned up.” Then he ripped the cannonball free, wrenched the door open, and slid into the driver’s seat. The awkward crunch of ill-fitting metal joints damn near broke my heart. And not just for Dean, but for the Impala as well, for she had seen us through a most harrowing night yet again.

Sam leaned in beside me then and asked, “Mind if I sit with you?”

“I’d… I’d like that. Very much,” I replied as a sudden chill crept beneath my skin. “I don’t think I could handle the whole ride back by myself.”

He opened the door and gestured ahead. “I make a pretty good pillow.”

As he slid in beside me, I said, “I look forward to finding out.” The warmth of his entire body, so close to mine, pulled me in, a moon to her earth. His long arm draped over my shoulder, and I curled into him. For a brief moment, the case ceased to exist. Only my exhaustion reminded me that I had gone toe to toe with the Headless Horseman and, for the most part, won.

But then a familiar thought occurred to me, and my weary eyes snapped wide open. “It’s true, then.”

“What is?” Dean asked as he turned over the backrest.

My breath caught in my throat, unwilling to put into the universe my worst nightmare. But between Dean’s confident stare and Sam’s soft gaze, I’d never felt safer. Even in my darkest moments, the Winchesters would be there for me. I put my faith and confidence not only in them but in myself as well. No matter what happened next, I believed in us.

“What’s true, Y/N,” Sam asked.

I gave him my best smile and spoke.

“Some urban legends never die.”

Dean shook his head as he turned back to the wheel and twisted the key in the ignition. The Impala rattled as she started, exhausted as each of us. When she settled to idle, Dean looked at me in the rearview mirror and spoke.

“No. They live just long enough to meet us.”

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE AWESOME. IF YOU WANT IN ON THE TAGS, SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM!

THE MIDNIGHT RIDE MASTER LIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

[shanaraki]

OCTOBER 2TH, 2021.

DAY ONE.

—— I've decided I'm starting a journal. ——

I have never been that good in keeping track or stuff. I get bored, I abandon what I start so easily. It is hard for me to push myself into doing something I don't have the motivation for.

However, I've decided I'm starting a journal. This journal. I feel better writing it online than in paper. When I'm forced into writing it in slow motion with my own hands, I get desperate sooner or later. My mind rushes and the words speed up while my hand is still struggling with the first lines.

I do have a lot to say. About so many things. There are things I'll never write or speak about. The belong in the silence between God and me, the empty spaces where the human mind can't go, that secret and non existence place.

I'm better now.

This imply that I was bad, of course. It's a cycle. I know the bad things won't stop coming, but I like to think that's no reason to stop working on myself. More than a circle this is... A spiral. I'm trying to make this spiral going up. It's hard. Humans can so easily die. It's so simple, so effortless to give up on myself and let the pull of the Earth take me underground. And yet...

I'm better. Not physically. I haven't been sleeping enough or drinking enough water or eating like I should. It's not my body that it's better, it's my mind. I don't disassociate as much these days. I feel present. I feel like I'm my body and not just in my body. I have more energy. I want to do things like clean my hair often and take care of my skin. I want to do exercise, to eat healthier. I feel calm, in my mind, in my thoughts. I need to keep meditating and doing my breathing exercises. They do help a lot.

There are many things I need to work in. My physical health is one of them, but also I need to practice using my phone less. I need to find other things to calm me. I have my paintings, I could practice with them. Or maybe drawing. And of course, there is my thesis.

I've been avoiding my college duties. Again.

I fear the stress or the semester. There's something that's very frustrating to me, and it is feeling like I'm failing at some task while everyone is already many tasks in front of me. Like,,,, hmm,,,, it's like trying on your shoelaces while you're on a marathon. You need to stop and tie them, but if you do you're gonna lose time and they're going to get even farther away, and you're so stressed over it that you're losing concentration, and the shoelaces, and the competitors, and your stress, and— there it goes. It gets worst and worst until you kinda resignate and think "I just need to finish this marathon, just it. I don't want to compete anymore".

There's also the fear of what I'm going to do after I graduate. Work is the obvious answer, right? I should. I want to work. But there's this idea,,,,, listen, sometimes I don't understand people. I'm smart, but not when it comes to normal things or daily skills. The other day I put a candy on the microwave for a minute and I almost burned the microwave.

I don't know how to do any house choirs. Why? Well, because my family tells me I should do them, but the minute I try and do them, they appear and tell me to go away because I'm doing everything wrong.

How am I supposed to learn if I can't practice? But there's still some sort of trauma reaction in me. I fear doing something that can't be fixed while practicing. That's the reason why I fear driving, because I'm terrified of damaging the car (mostly because I don't want to cost extra money to anyone, and I don't have money to buy and less alone fix a car).

So I should work. To gain some money. But let's not talk more about that because I got nervous just by thinking of it.

Aaand I lost track of what I was saying. I'm sleepy. I was supposed to write how today I was better. I downloaded some cool apps, I want to learn how to play the kalimba, I felt pretty today, comfortable, safe. I shouldn't be writing my problems on an online diary but oh well.

This is exactly how my mind works. Now it is bored of writing this and wants to close the tab. I wants to change the song. Meditate. I get bored of things so fast this days. I'm not able to end a whole task if I don't pressure myself for HOURS. I'm better but there's still a long way to go.

I wish I could go to a psychiatrist and finally see if I have anxiety or adhd or if im just overreacting. When I told my psychologist I thought I had anxiety, she told me she would not give me any labels to use, only treat me. I suppose that is good, but a part of my does wish I could know the labels. I don't like when I don't know what is happening. I don't like when I don't have control over the stuff that surrounds me. I don't like being vulnerable or deadly curious.

I haven't been praying that much later, either. I miss my regular contact with God. It makes me feel very lonely and afraid, and very guilty and ashamed. I know many people hate Christians and for a good reason, because many have hurt the whole world with those ideals. And I know for many the way I feel would be silly. I just........ I can't stop believing in him, feeling this way. I want to help others, not by hurting them, but by just standing in silence in the distant with my silly words and silly presence, so if they ever feel lost, they can always find me and sit, talk with me. I love them all. I love humanity so much. It makes me sad. I see the killers and the politians, I see the worst human beings and I think, "I wish you some clarity, I wish you some joy, I wish you to be so full of good things that there's no more evil feelings, just the ability to feel guilty and change, to become a better person".

I'm tired of seeing people dying. Suffering. My grandpa E (the biological father of my mom) is dying. His lungs are collapsing, slowly but surely. We lost my grandma some two or three years ago. I don't think of her as much as before, but I feel it, her absence. I miss her voice and her hugs. I miss the people we were when she was alive. I miss my grandpa H (the step-father of my mom) happiness, I miss the time where my mom's face was not so gloomy and sad.

I'm tired of hatred and anger. I see it everywhere and many who feel it are just sad and hurt. Like wounded animals, they lash out when they are in pain. And I wish I could cure them. Yes, I guess I have a Saint complex or whatever. I feel bad for speaking about how I wish I could save the world, love every human enough for them to feel better. I feel bad for not being capable of doing more.

And the worst part is that I feel like I'm capable of doing more, but I don't do it because I'm afraid. If I wasn't so shy or anxious, if I wasn't so selfish, I could be out there traveling and saving lives. I look at my ceiling in the dark and think if I'm gonna die paralyzed by fear. Or if I'm going to die fearing dying that way, and asking to much of my body and soul and mind, enough to destroy myself.

I don't want to sound self-centered, damn. I am anxious again. You see, I'm better, but it is hard. It feels like my limbs need to move because it is a physical discomfort. It feels like I need to do something, to shake that feeling.

This is a lot for a first day entry. No one is going to read this, just me. And if there's someone reading it, then... Know you're walking over my heart. Every word is war, every emotion written in the moment. I'm laying in a couch with red led lights in a white room. There are some dark brown furnitures, the room is tiny. There's a giant TV on the floor, there are plants on shelf next to the ceiling. The plants are tiny and fake. There's a big window, closed with curtains. There's another high tiny window, and a mini desk that goes into the wall in a sort of hollowed square that there's in the room. There are two posters on glass frames, they are big, they are by the wall.

It's almost 2AM. I hear some cars passing by. It's neither cold nor hot. There's a constant sound, like the one electric devices make. It's kind loud. I don't know if it's the nature or the electric devices. I'm on an apartment. The town I'm in is in the mountains, but a few minutes from a big city.

I'm calmer now. It's feel a little lonely in this room because I'm on my own. My family is on the apartment, but there's no sound to be heard of them. At least the acoustic in this neighborhood let's you hear even when the person some building away is coughing. Yeah, crazy.

I think I'm going to be now. I'm tired. I want to be more online, write on my other blogs, do some rp, work on my thesis, clean my room, read books, watch TV shows... But even when I'm better, I need to be careful to don't pressure myself to much. Too many stimulus and I'm gonna be avoiding everyone again, until I feel less overestimulated.

No more worries. The day is over. I need to sleep.

Goodnight, mysterious person. And if no one ever reads this, goodnight to the absence of and the empty and the memories.

[knightofshaem]

for the word promt: look!

he doesn't remember when exactly he'd become so close to ryujin. of course, there was their first meeting, a date arranged through one of the many dating apps that were available for the lonely hearts of seoul, but that hadn't exactly gone as planned. despite their initial failure at creating the bond they had sought at the time, a friendship had blossomed and jae was even offered a job at the aforementioned's cafe. all of that made sense, what didn't make sense was when they'd become close enough that he spent most of his day talking to her and opening up to her about information he didn't share with anybody else. it was perhaps in part due to his lack of other close friends, but he liked to attribute it to something special about ryujin specifically that left him feeling so comfortable and able to share such things in the first place. in the end, it didn't matter much how or why they'd become close, and realistically he would be unable to recall the exact moment ryujin managed to break down his feeble walls.  

now, they're sat across from each other in a cafe jaehyung liked to frequent in the morning, especially when he hadn't managed to sleep well. most of the employees knew him by now and he tended to sit at the corner table by the window that got just the right amount of sunlight. typically, he'd read a book he'd found interest in or work on schoolwork as well, but today he had arrived haphazardly dressed with bedhead as well as a dark hue adorning the area under his eyes. he had a feeling almost immediately he'd hear it from ryujin who he'd mentioned to that he hadn't slept well despite knowing she would get upset with him for choosing to get coffee regardless. still, he ordered it before she had a chance to show up and scold him, and by the time she had arrived he'd already drank most of it, but it'd yet to do anything for his current tired state. 

he offers her a weak, tired smile as he runs a hand through his hair. it does nothing for him besides mess it up further, but he's well past the point of caring. he's come to the very same cafe in much worse disarray, usually accompanied by his laptop and a notebook filled to the brim with notes. to his side sits a half eaten strawberry pastry which, after a moments deliberation, he gently slides over to her, extending it as an olive branch as a means to make peace. he can't tell if she's amused or not, but his smile falls nonetheless as he yawns for what feels like the thousandth time that day. this action is followed by him rubbing at his eyes, and for a moment he feels as though he can't open them back up, finding himself near drifting off before he manages to blink them back open. when he attempts to catch her gaze, she's not looking at him. he takes this moment to observe, though, in his sleepy daze he's unsure what exactly he's looking for. a few seconds pass and he decides he's terribly tired, so tired that his head is suddenly too heavy for him to continuing holding up, so instead he crosses his arms over each other on the table and rests his head upon them, nestling it within the crook of his left elbow.

"i'm sorry you came all the way-" he yawns again, pausing before he continues speaking. "here just to watch me basically fall asleep. yeah, yeah i know i should have stayed home and crawled into bed like you said, but the espresso was just too tempting. plus, i haven't had the strawberry pastry in two weeks and it sounded really good." his excuses weren't going to fly with her, he was well aware, but he was always the type to ramble. he didn't even realize he was doing it half the time, but by the time he did realize it was always too late, the word vomit would have already escaped. truthfully, this exact conversation had happened just a few days prior, but he had been tired for different reasons then. she'd been tired too, he recalls suddenly, enough that she had mentioned curling up to watch netflix. maybe that was what he should have been doing too, but in his case he wasn't tired due to physical exertion, but instead just an overwhelming lack of sleep. he was unable to even remember the last time he'd gotten a proper eight hours and the thought shocked him somewhat. even so, he was too tired to really think about it, and so as quick as the thought had come it quickly dissipated away. 

the next time he blinks his eyes open he realizes he's drifted off, but it couldn't have been for too long. at least, the sun hadn't moved across the sky yet and his coffee was still on the table near the still unfinished pastry. still partially cuddled into his own elbow he flits his gaze up to her face and notes that her eyes are on him. he blinks, once, twice, then his cheeks flush, slightly embarrassed she was looking at him so intently. he realizes immediately it's most likely out of concern or she could have possibly just zoned out, but he wasn't going to miss his chance. 

"like what you see?" he teases, lips quirking into a grin as he slowly rises from his half lying down position. he intends to press further, but he's once again interrupted by a yawn. after, he frowns, sighing softly as he wonders if getting another shot of espresso was a good idea. probably not, he concludes, and he assumes ryujin wouldn't let him anyway. right, ryujin, he'd been teasing her just a moment ago. he attempts to catch her gaze again, lips curling into a soft smile as he does so, his head tilting slightly. "for the record, i'm just kidding. i just wanted to say that. it felt right, y'know?" he shrugs after speaking, then he turns to look out the window, squinting. "i'm thinking maybe i should go back to my apartment and try to at least lie down." he turns to her again, pouting. "will you walk me home? you mentioned being tired like this is almost like being drunk and i don't want to get lost. what would you do if my body was found in a dumpster somewhere? not insinuating i'm going to get murdered, just i'd somehow climb into one? maybe? i'm not sure what i'd do." he realizes he's rambling and promptly shuts up, shooting her a dopey grin instead. "but really, if you don't want to, you don't have to. it might be nice to go for a quick walk, though. you can even chill on my couch for a while or something if you don't want to leave right away."

on the way home, he finds himself wishing he'd got another shot of espresso. he does not voice this thought to ryujin, but he does ask her why she was staring. if she told him, he couldn't remember what the reason was, too tired to wrap his head around anything.

[ajokeformur-ray]

So... since you are now writing for the joker (2019), can I get an imagine (or headcanon, both sfw and nsfw) with Arthur? It can be whatever you feel like writing! Thank you!

Cuddles are a cure all for insomnia // fluff

Summary: Insomnia may have its grip on Arthur, but so do you. Your hold on him is stronger, kinder, more loving and more giving. It’s only inevitable that your force is the one that he eventually succumbs to.

A/N: It was hard to write this because the softness of the GIF was distracting me skskskkkk what an angel.

Swearing and mentions of insomnia in this, loves.

Word count: 1, 351

The hour was late and you were, to put it mildly, exhausted.

Arthur was in the kitchen doing the dishes. You could almost hear the look of concentration on his face, so focused was he on being quiet. He thought that you were asleep, and you almost had been, but then with a weary sigh which brought untold truths of his mental state into the light had Arthur slipped out from underneath you, taking a tender moment to tuck you back in, and then padded into the kitchen.

To do the dishes.

Past midnight.

You lay there for a few moments, thinking your next actions through. Arthur thought that you were asleep, it was obvious from the way he had tucked you in, and it was clear that he couldn’t sleep. Insomnia was such a bitch. You hadn’t gone to sleep yet, and you were tired. You had slept last night; Arthur hadn’t. You had a day off tomorrow. Arthur didn’t.

The choice had already been made for you.

With concern and love behind your every action did you get out of bed, only briefly mourning the loss of those warm sheets, which smelled of cigarettes and vanilla air freshener; a poor but appreciated attempt to disguise the fact that he smoked in bed sometimes. 

You found Arthur clutching the counter top with his hands, his head bowed and his shoulders hunched inwards. His eyes were closed and you could feel his soul deep exhaustion coming off him in waves.

“Arthur.” You came around to his side so that he could see your every move - as exhausted as he was, having not slept for what was now the second night in a row, logic would be far from his tired mind - and reached out to lay a hand on his upper arm. You stopped just before you touched him, though, not wanting to force anything on him.

Nights like this came with an instruction manual that was known only to you. It existed only within your mind; Arthur didn’t know just how hard you tried to help him, and that was the way it was going to stay, for you didn’t ever want to make him feel like he was a burden to you.

“Hey,” His strong, dark brows creased in the middle. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I wasn’t sleeping.” I can’t. Not without you.

Arthur read your thoughts within your deep eyes, so well did he know you. He called you his open book for a reason, if only within the safe confines of his hellish mind. He smiled apologetically and moved as if to wrap you up in his arms, only to hesitate millimetres from your skin. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Just so tired.”

“I know, darling.” You didn’t. “Wanna come back to bed? Dishes can wait.”

“S’okay,” Arthur shrugged. “I was done anyway. Wasn’t much.”

It didn’t escape you that he hadn’t answered your question. You tried a different approach: your fail safe.

“Wanna watch some Murray with me? You still haven’t watched the latest epis - “

Arthur was shaking his head before you had even finished, so you cut yourself off and waited for him to speak his mind aloud. You had worked hard with Arthur to get him to the point where he felt like he could speak his mind with you, and when he felt brave enough to do so did you always make it known beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were listening.

You always made it known that with you was Arthur safe, heard, loved, seen.

“No. What you said before sounds good.”

You couldn’t help your small, triumphant smile - Arthur had chosen you over Murray. You had been chosen over Murray. 

“May I touch you, Arthur?”

On nights like this was it most important that Arthur had a choice. That he was heard and that his wants, needs and desires mattered. That he mattered. He nodded eagerly and practically shoved his hand into yours, locking your fingers between his spidery ones as, with graceful movements and a clumsy smile did he walk with you to the bedroom.

You got back into bed first, the sheets already cooling, and you shivered in the natural chill of the room. The apartment building had no central heating and the walls were poorly insulated, so at night did you most rely on one another to keep warm.

Arthur stood by your bedside for a few seconds, his brow furrowed and his fists clenched by his sides. You reached out and unclenched his fist; first one hand and then the other, before you shuffled backwards onto your side of the bed (the one furthest from the door) and patted the space you had just vacated; join me.

Even though you had presented it to Arthur like a choice, the look in your eyes said otherwise.

Exhaustion won the battle between itself and hesitation as, with a defeated sigh did Arthur get into bed. Immediately did you pull the duvet around him, pressing down against his back pointedly so that Arthur understood he was to get closer to you. He shuffled closer in small increments until the cold tip of his nose was pressed against your neck; the expanse of skin warm and inviting.

With a relieved sigh did Arthur all at once wrap his arms around you, his slender foot sliding just once over your shin. Unthinkingly did you part your lower legs just enough for him to slot his leg between yours, and you wrapped your own arms around Arthur, bending your head awkwardly to press a kiss to his forehead. 

He hummed gently and yawned hard enough for you to hear his jaw crack. With soothing up and down motions did you rub his back, feeling the individual vertebrate underneath your fingers.

“That feels nice.” Arthur’s soft yet raspy voice made you smile, and you rewarded him for his honesty with another kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering even as he pushed into them; raising his head pointedly.

He wanted more.

He lifted his head, moving to loom over you, and his green oceans met your own eyes without falter as a small smile which was reflected within his eyes graced his angelic face. Your lips met easily, like a dance as you came together without thought; so well choreographed were these moments between you, and Arthur smiled against your lips.

“I love you, Y/N.” He pecked your lips. Once. Twice. Thrice. Four five six. Seven. Eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen - he hummed and began to slowly and without a pattern which you could discern through the sleepy haze in your mind press kisses all over your face and neck; anywhere and everywhere he could reach did he leave minute traces of his love about your skin.

“I love you too, Arthur. More than I can say.”

“You don’t have to say it,” Arthur sighed gently, pressing one final long, deep kiss to your slightly swollen lips before he settled down, ducking his head into the crook of your neck, a hand coming to rest over the space which shielded your physical heart, “I can feel it. I can feel you.”

“Oh, honey,” Your fingers threaded into his dark curls as you tried to soothe him to sleep with your touch, your voice, your own being - you couldn’t forget your mission, no matter how much you wanted to preserve the raw beauty of the moment between you - “I love you so much.”

A sleepy hum. You quenched the thrill of excitement which threatened to bubble out from between your lips in the form of a giggle.

Arthur’s breathing deepened out and you felt his body melt into you and into the mattress, bringing your own exhaustion to the forefront of your mind before you, too, slowly and gratefully succumbed to it.

Tomorrow would bring a new set of challenges, but you had won today’s.

Arthur’s demons would always win the battle, but your love, and only yours, would win the war.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z                      @x-avantgarde-x       @insomniabird      @mavalenovaninagavi     @itwasrealenough     @morrisonmercurymalek     @rand0ms-fand0ms     @rafaelina-casillas     @aclownthing       @vivft                                          @help-i-am-obssessed      @autumnaffection       @taintednihilist   @vladtoly   @mg-woolf99      @misstgrey92   @dopey-fandom-girl         @seeking-dreamland      @sweetheart-syndrome      @heartxfdesire     @xmusichealsthesoulx       @0callmejude0      @the-one-that-likes-riddles        @hannibalsslut       @folliaght            @freeeshavacadoo         @bingewatchingmylifegoby       @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx       @sp0okysp0oky  @the-pandorabox      @mardema @jibanyyan        @honeyflvredcoughdrop         @emissarydecksetter @jokerfleckk         @epidendroideae         @chuuntas          @stillmabel       @pumpkinpeyes       @onehystericalqueenposts          @the-jokers-wolf       @nalsswa  @justahyena       @arianatheangelworld  @soullessblondbitch @gothamslittlejester  @twentyonestarrynights  @sirianfromsixties @kissmeclownman    @joker-is-my-hero  @lazyloosah  @lovesickkloxx @ladylovelyluna      @live-love-loki  @clownerybbxx   @tragicarthur    @anmach123      @rommie-chan      @arthurflock     @lucyboytom              @anti-peach       @immortal-bi-bitch    @hearthurfleck     @jokersproperty     @curlystark     @hailmary-yramliah    @sagyunaro     @playinthedarktillitsgoldenagain     @jokeringcutio      @xenthefox   @mijachula@stcrrynightsinneverlcnd      @cheyennejonas22    @mrjfleck      @pauli1100     @smitten-susie    @actualkey     @callmejokerfleck   @jaylovesbats    @itsforyoubitch      @ridiculousnerd     @killerprotector3579       @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend     @fantasticwinnerclodexpert                  @arthurs-sweater      @pinkie44pie    @tsukiakarinobara      @prettyxlittlexpsychoxprincess   @elodia-gahan   @yours-mia     @parkdonghoons      @lady-carnivals-stuff      @hobi-hobi-kyo-kkyu      @jupiturde        @incognitofish      @j-sux      @nothing-but-a-comedy      @tahliamalfoydepp     @sgtsavoytruffle      @smol-nari       @pocket-clown     @joker-flecked-me      @millandram     @obsessedandthirsty   @holosexualunicorn7000

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Soulmate

Werewolf Erik Imprints on OC.

I don’t know what to do with this but I decided to post because it’s been sitting in my google drive for about a month now and I know Halloween is in two days so if you want you can read what I have written thus far. I may or may not finish with all the other things I have to complete.

Warnings: Fluff, slight humor, mentions of smut.

Theme: Halloween, supernatural, College

It was the middle of the Fall Semester at Florida A&M. The weather wasn’t too bad, around 80 degrees during the afternoon and dropping to as low as 72 in the evening. Currently, Erik was studying for his upcoming Advanced Physics midterm. The Kappa Alpha Psi house was relatively quiet and this gave him the perfect opportunity to study before his brothers came in to disturb him. Erik took his blue highlighter, highlighting a passage before recapping it. He flipped to the next page, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses to read. As much as he loved physics and engineering his mind just wasn’t there. It was the middle of October now and his focus on knowledge wasn’t as interesting as he’d hoped for. This time of the year wasn’t always the best for him ever since he was twenty years old. That’s when his life changed. 

“Thermodynamics and heat transfer.”

He read the topic while rubbing his sleepy eyes, AirMax covered feet tapping the floor to help him stay alert. 

“Fuck, I can’t read this shit right now.” 

Erik angrily closes his book, sliding it away from him, causing his calculus materials to fall over onto his desk. He leans back in his reclining desk chair, eyes to the swirling ceiling fan within his room. It wasn’t like he didn’t get the information, he knew it like the back of his hand. He just needed a distraction from her. 

People on campus called her Poison Ivy; she was a lot to handle and Erik hadn’t noticed that until yesterday when something that he didn’t expect to happen, happened.

Ivy Crow. She was a journalism major. Ivy wrote for the school news column and she was also an activist on campus. Sometimes her protests didn’t go so well and other times her podcasts could piss people off but that’s who she was. You couldn’t miss her on campus with her goth aesthetic and camcorder in hand. Ivy was now Erik’s weakness. He needed to talk to someone about this, and the only person he could think of was his friend Trevor. Erik rises from his seat, grabbing his cross-body bag, shooting Trevor a quick text before exiting his bedroom.

He instructed for Trevor to meet him at the library in the ancient literature section since no one went there anyway. Erik made it there before Trevor, looking about him with sharp eyes to be sure that no one was around. He paced, impatient and antsy. He hadn’t seen Ivy all day. His body couldn’t stand it. This overpowering desire for her made him hungry as well. If he was hungry for regular food now he was afraid of what he would be hungry for at midnight…

“Erik? What’s going on I had to skip out of class.”

Trevor was a programming major, tall, skin like midnight, one eye blue and the other brown. Girls swooned over him. 

“My bad man, I got a problem.” 

Trevor grabs Erik by the shoulder, pulling him further into the aisle of books. It was dustier back against the window.

Trevor lowers his voice, “Is it a Lycanthrope thing?”

Erik hated when Trevor refers to it as that. He kisses his teeth, letting out a sigh of frustration.

“Why can’t you just say Werewolf?!” Erik argues.

“Whatever, is this what I’m here for?”

“Yeah.” 

“Did you shift and get lost somewhere you weren’t supposed to be? Remember I saved your ass from nearly dying when you landed in a trap with silver near fucking New Orleans.”

Erik could still feel the scars from that on his back. If it wasn’t for Trevor, Erik would probably be dead. His back was scarred badly from that, deep gashes diagonally across his back.

“No, I haven’t shifted in two days.”

“Two days? Why?” 

Erik looks down at his sneakers, “Some weird shit happened to me…”

Trevor waited for Erik to speak. He figured Trevor would know more since he’d been a werewolf since birth. It was a family curse.

“So, I was on my way to my calculus class when a rally was going on. You know, that rally about making sure ‘blackface’ doesn’t happen for Halloween this year.”

Two Days Ago: 

“Catch you later, bro. You know we got that party before the hazing process.”

Erik shoulders his backpack, flashing his sexy dimples, “Y’all niggas partying before the hazing? That’s some new shit.”

His fellow Kappa brother shrugs before wrapping his arm around a random chicks shoulder, “Gotta warm them, boys, up first before the fun begins.”

He shared the Kappa hand sign with his brothers before walking away towards his class. He already missed a few for his own selfish reasons so he couldn’t afford to miss another. As Erik walked he noticed a large group of students- mostly black students crowd around a gothic chick and her protest friends, holding up signs reading “BAND BLACKFACE” Erik never really invested his time into these protests because he felt like they wouldn’t change anything but the sound of her loud voice brought his eyes to her.

And that’s what did it.

He felt as if he was gravitationally pulled towards her while glowing heat filled his veins. The class suddenly became secondary. On second thought, everything became secondary to him at that moment. He couldn’t explain it but the overpowering feeling made him want to stand there and watch her. Erik had a deep need and desire to support this girl and even protect her if someone went against what she had to say. His knees buckled, Erik stumbling a little and catching strange looks from some of the students. A few white students at Florida A&M looked frustrated with her words and that made Erik’s inner wolf growl. His eyes even turned golden without his control. He blinked, afraid that someone would notice.

“NO BLACK FACE FOR HALLOWEEN!!! It’s just as disrespectful as dressing up as an Indian!”

“She needs to shut up. She’s such a freak.”

Erik caught that and the person was on the other side of the crowd. He growls, his mind confused but his actions uncontrollable.

“She just needs some dick. She’s embarrassing us, black girls. I mean, none of these white people care about that. They wouldn’t even be dumb enough to try that.”

He felt deep disgust and rage from those words. He didn’t even know the girl and he hated the way those girls talked about her. He decided to look at her again, just focus on her to make him feel better. She talked with a sense of power, her movements confident and no care in the world that people saw her being a goth or that they thought she was a “freak of nature.” 

Without being able to explain it himself, Erik walked through the crowd and towards her direction, standing at her feet while she stood on the top steps in front of the main student services building. Erik looked at her like she was a goddess. Before he could stop himself, he climbed those stairs, taking his place next to her, clapping his hands loudly and cheering her on. 

Ivy pauses mid-speech with the megaphone pressed to her lips, eyeing Erik bizarrely. 

“Aye! Don’t tell her to calm down she preaching the truth right now!” Erik yells down at a group of snickering students who clearly still lived like they were high schoolers. They had a long way to go.

“If you are not angry, you are not paying attention!” At this point, he was yelling out anything to support Ivy. What he thought he was doing the right way he was only pissing her off. Erik didn’t know a thing about Ivy and how she hated when people disrupted her protests, especially when it was a guy who didn’t even know she existed. 

Erik snatches a sign from one of Ivy’s friends, holding it up proudly. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Ivy finally speaks, not realizing the megaphone was still pressed to her mouth.

Erik lowers the sign, flashing a charming smile at her. He looked her over with an impressive eye before putting his hand out for her to shake.

“I’m Erik.”

Ivy looks from his hand to his face, “Ivy.” 

Erik awkwardly lowers his hand, “You’re a fucking badass, Ivy.” 

She blinks with sass, “really?” 

She didn’t by that. This entire situation was strange. 

“Yeah…”Erik felt that same heat in his blood. This girl, Ivy, was driving him crazy.

“Fuck these people, you can tell me about it I’ll listen.” 

She laughs, pretty smile with lips colored blood red. The spiked choker around her neck along with the spikes in her ears made her look dangerous. Little did she know, Erik was even more dangerous.

“The less I care, the happier I am.” 

She looked down at the steps, a frappe tossed at her feet with the liquid staining her platform doc martens. Erik looked down as well, eyebrows creasing with anger.

“It’s okay, Erik. I look at people sometimes and think...really? That’s the sperm that won.” Ivy simply shakes her head, lowering her megaphone. The crowd began to scatter and Ivy turns away from Erik, talking to her friends and instructing them to pack up and meet her for podcast talk.

Erik was compelled to help as well, grabbing posters and stacking them neatly. Not only did Ivy give him a strange look but her friends did as well. 

“Are you feeling well, frat boy?” She placed the back of her hand to his forehead, Erik almost losing his control if it wasn’t for his impressive already controlled nature. He was a beast of the night, he had to keep it together. 

“Maybe we should reintroduce ourselves,” she held out her hand covered in silver rings. Luckily, Erik was in his human form. 

“I’m Ivy Crow, I run on caffeine, sarcasm, and inappropriate thoughts.”

Erik smiles, shaking her hand and enjoying the warmth. Since when did a chick make him delirious?

“I’m Erik Stevens. Kappa, science wiz, irresistibly handsome.” 

“That you are,” Ivy had eyes she could see Erik was clearly a looker.

“So you like what you see then?”

Ivy shrugs, looking away, “Don’t get your hopes up, Erik.”

“Why? I mean, a girl like you can use a guy like me in your life.” 

Ivy raises a single brow, “I see, you’re one of those niggas who think by flashing a smile and flirting with me you’ll get some pussy?”

“Nah, I mean…” 

“No need. I know what this is about,” Ivy turns away with a pained expression, grabbing her bag to leave. Erik was bothered by that rejection, following her down the steps.

“Aye? What the hell did I do?”

Ivy turns to him, a glare on her face, “My middle finger salutes you right now.”

Erik felt like his world was crashing down around him. Ivy being upset with him couldn’t happen. 

“Why are you mad right now? We were starting off cool.”

“I may not be the girl that everyone wants but at least I’m not the girl that everyone’s had.”

Erik understood then. She thought that he was implying that she needed him in her life to feel accepted because of who she was. 

“Look,” Erik lets out a calming breath, “can we start over? I’m not the type of guy you think I am. I’m not tryna get to know you for the wrong reasons, Ivy.” 

Ivy looked distant for a second until her shoulders relaxed. She folded her arms across her chest, eyeing Erik cautiously.

“I’m sorry,” Ivy pinches the bridge of her nose, “I just have a history of fuck-ups with guys.”

Ivy starts walking, motioning for Erik to follow along. He does, the pain in his chest subsiding.

“It’s just...you come out of fucking nowhere and you help me at my rally? It’s so fucking confusing.”

Erik was still confused. 

“I’m confused too believe it or not.” 

He needed to figure out what was going on, maybe it’s a werewolf thing. It is getting closer and closer to Halloween. Maybe he’s just having a strong sexual craving and he could see that in Ivy as well. It could be that Erik needed to fuck Ivy before a shift to sedate him. 

“I don’t know you well, Erik, and I’m not good with people.” 

Erik wasn’t either, he preferred to be a loner.

“I guess that makes two of us, Ivy Crow.”

“Ew, people,” Ivy cringes, causing Erik to laugh.

“Uh, is it cool if I have your number?”

Erik needed to communicate with her when she wasn’t around. In under twenty minutes he felt like he needed to hear from her. 

“Sure, frat boy, I feel like you’ve earned it.”

Ivy pulls out her cell, followed by Erik, both of them exchanging numbers. 

“Cool. I can hit you up later, right?”

Ivy simply shrugs, “that’s if my fingers aren’t preoccupied, frat boy.” 

That sexual innuendo made the burning desire within him growl. His inner wolf wanted badly to spring free. What was it about this girl that had him weak in the knees and ten times more aware? Her scent was unique, very sweet smelling like berries. It made his mouth water. 

“Listen, I'd love to chat but I have a podcast later that will more than likely stir shit up on campus.” 

Ivy backs away, Erik’s eyes scanning from her white crop top with the word “Salem” down to her tight black jeans that hugged her generous curves down to her Doc Martens. 

“I’ll make sure to tune in, Baby girl, what time?”

Ivy looks at him strangely, “1:00”

Erik gives her a farewell smile, never turning to leave as he watched her disappear. He stood there until her smell was gone, a heavyweight lifted from him only to be filled with emptiness. He missed her a lot for some reason. 

That night in bed, Erik was in a cold sweat, growling like his other half and tossing. What was happening to him? He needed answers and quick. The next couple of days were going to be challenging.

Present:

“You’ve imprinted on Ivy Crow.”

Trevor didn’t hold back information. He laid it out for Erik.

“Imprinted? I thought that shit only happened in Twilight.” 

Trevor gave Erik an annoyed look, “You’ve been a Werewolf for about seven years and you don’t know what imprinting is?”

Erik shrugs, “that’s what I have you for Trevor. You’re my Werewolf brother and my teacher.” 

“Erik,” Trevor gave Erik a pointed look, “This is some serious shit, bro. You have to know everything about your Lycanthrope self or the enemies out there will hold that against you. You don’t want the enemies to know more about you than you, correct?”

Trevor did have a point, and Erik knew that. He was still trying to get over the fact that he was turned into a Lycan/ Werewolf when he was twenty years of age. 

“Aight, I’ll take it more seriously. All that other shit like silver, Mercury, angel blades to the heart…”

Erik lets out a deep sigh, “I already know about that shit.”

“Well, do you know about our origin? Why New Orleans is generally not safe for our kind? How there are vampire and witch covens there and we all equally hate each other? How imprinting can be a good and bad thing?”

Erik didn’t know everything, and it pissed him off that Trevor rubbed that shit in his face.

“You want your ass beat now or later?”

Trevor laughs, “nigga, you keep forgetting I’m stronger than you?” 

Erik bumps shoulder with him as he walks past, finally done with this conversation.

“We can meet up later tonight to discuss this imprinting situation. For the time being, try not to hound the girl, Erik. You don’t want to scare her away when you’re bound to her.”

That word, bound, wasn’t something he was prepared for. He was already bound to being a werewolf for the rest of his life. What if Ivy despises him to the point where she doesn’t want anything to do with him? What if she falls in love with someone else? All of those things scared him. 

Ivy’s POV: 

“What are you going to be for Halloween this year, Ivy?”

Ivy slips into a pair of dark turquoise high waist jeans, turning sideways to admire her outfit as a whole. She had on a black corset top with a layered silver necklace around her neck with multiple crosses on it. Her head was covered in a wig that would remind you of Uma Thurman’s hair in Pulp fiction, lips painted a glittery black and eyes Smokey. 

“Probably something DIY, maybe a corpse bride.”

Her friend, Treasure; the complete opposite of her, sat on her bed, painting her toes white. She dressed like Cher from Clueless, long curly hair in two space buns. She was ginger with freckles on her face. 

“I’m gonna be a Powerpuff Girl.” 

Ivy chuckles, “Which one?”

“Bubbles.”

“I knew it.”

Ivy grabs her coffin-shaped crossbody bag along with her Creative Writing books before her phone goes off for the fifth time. She knew exactly who it was, he was getting on her last nerve.

Erik: Why aren’t you answering my texts, beautiful?

She locks her phone, putting it away.

“Ready?” 

Treasure gives her a strange look. 

“What’s up with you?” 

Ivy shakes her head, “Just trying to prepare myself for yet another day of biting my tongue whenever Miss Petty Ass Bitch decides to piss me off. It’s not my fault I know more about your own class than you do. They just hire anyone these days.”

“You know she just does that Ivy because of your reputation around here,” Treasure reminds her, “Everyone is intimidated. Remember, they call you Poison Ivy.”

Ivy’s face lit up, a pretty smile on her glittery black lips.

“You know what, I just might have my Halloween costume in mind.” 

Erik’s POV

He waited outside of Creative Writing.

How did he find out about her class? He practically threatened one of her guy friends and supposedly her fellow band member to give him the information. The second he did that, Erik did a late enrollment for the course. Luckily, it could look good for his master's degree. Looking from one end of the hall to the other, his nostrils flared, her smell growing closer and closer. He closed his eyes, the veins in his neck protruding from holding on control. His backpack went down to cover his crotch, dick hard for the first time in two days. The more she drew closer the more his heartbeat increased and his skin reddened from heat. 

“Erik?” Ivy spoke with agitation.

His eyes snapped open from her sing-song voice, “Wassup, Baby girl?”

“It’s Ivy.” 

“Well, I like calling you Baby girl,” he teases, earning a strange look from her.

“Stop calling me that or I will pour all of this hot ass coffee down your pants.” 

He snapped his mouth shut, choosing to simply admire her. She tried looking at her phone but the scorching hot gaze he gave her made her look at him with annoyance.

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Erik smirks at her, walking over to be face to face with his gothic princess.

“What you wanna know?” He shoulders his bag, giving her his sexiest stare but it clearly didn’t change anything.

“Why do you insist on texting me ten times a fucking day?”

“Why do you insist on ignoring me? Forreal, you got a whole ass attitude, Miss Ivy. A nigga tryna get to know you and you ignoring me? Ima tell you this now, I don’t like being ignored.”

“I do a thing called what I want.” She reminded him. 

“You don’t like a nigga to be all sweet with you, huh?” 

Ivy picks at her nails, “I’m not built for a soft ass needy man, I talk back and I do not listen.” 

Erik’s dark eyes burned into hers. She didn’t fight it, looking at him with an equal amount of strength.

“I don’t like your type. You walk around here like you own the place and then you think you can have any girl you want? I’m not just any girl.” 

Ivy picks a piece of imaginary cotton from Erik’s letterman jacket.

“You are a mean girl,” he smiles down at her, “Don't get your hopes up though I’m not going anywhere. I like em fiery, you like em dominant. That’s cool, I’m that.” 

“I’m not mean, just brutally honest. It’s not my fault truth hurts. Want a bandaid?”

“As long as it’s from you I’ll take all that shit, Baby girl.” 

Ivy regrets giving him her number. She didn’t actually think he would try anything with her since she definitely wasn’t going to open her legs for him. 

“Ivy? Did you hear me?” 

She wasn’t paying him any mind, the class was filling up and she needed to take her seat.

“There is no need to repeat yourself, I ignored you just fine the first time.” 

He stood rooted to the spot, watching her disappear into that classroom. Her words literally slapped him. This is what he feared honestly. Erik couldn’t wait to meet up with Trevor so he could figure out how to work around this imprinting thing. Ivy was a lot to handle. Erik wasn’t going to back down by any means but damn, he didn’t expect a real challenge. 

Erik finally walks into the class, finding a seat just behind Ivy a row above hers. She had all her things neatly stacked in front of her, eyes focused ahead. Erik whispered “excuse me” to a girl on his right as he took his seat. He decided to just bring his Macbook instead of things to write with. This was an easy course for him, he’d already taken a similar one during his undergraduate education.

“Good morning, Everyone,” a woman who looked to be in her late thirties spoke, fuchsia and purple polka-dotted blouse with a black pencil skirt. Her thin blonde hair was pulled into a tight French roll, old stocking with tears in them and a pair of heels that looked like something his grandmother would wear. God rest her soul.

“Can I help you, sir?” She yells to the back row. Erik knew she was referring to him.

“I’m a late enrollee.” His husky voice caught the eyes of nearly all the women in that room except for Ivy who chewed on the end of her pen.

“Name?” She asked with an authoritative tone.

“Erik Stevens.” 

“I’m Professor Pettee, Why creative writing so late in the semester?”

Erik strokes his goatee, “Miss Ivy here gave me some inspiration since she’s a Journalism major and all.”

He could hear her clicking and unclicking her pen angrily. 

“Ivy Crow?” She looked at Ivy with a sarcastic smirk, “she’s your inspiration? Well,” Miss Pettee turns on her heel,  “She’s inspirational alright.” 

Tiny snickers scattered the class.

“What is this fucking high school?!” Erik blurts out with rage. Ivy turns to him then with wide eyes. 

“Excuse me?” Miss Pettee hadn’t expected that. 

“I’m referring to the snickering. What y’all fifth graders or some shit?” 

The entire lecture hall was silent, all eyes on Erik.

“What a ruckus,” Miss Pettee laughs nervously, “Are you finished, Mr. Stevens? I do have a class to teach.”

Erik sat back in his chair, motioning for her to continue. As soon as Miss Pettee’s back turned, Erik noticed Ivy staring up at him with a smoldering rage. The smile on his face turned into a blank expression. He was really getting under her skin. 

“Fuck You.” She mouthed to him before turning back in her seat to pay attention. This was going to be interesting. 

[dinosaurs-last-day]

@nobodystentacle more Remy angst?!?!? You have a one track mind my friend. I can’t promise it will be any good, but I try. Sorry, this took slightly longer than I expected! 

Note: this can be read as platonic or romantic, I don’t care which. 

Go under the cut for story! Or, you can read it here on ao3!

---------------

“Remy darling, I love coffee as much as the next person, but don’t you think seven cups in a single morning is a bit extreme?” Janus asked as he watched Remy pour himself another cup of pure black coffee in the kitchen.

“Nah babes,” Remy said, laughing nervously, filling his mug to it’s limit. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as too much coffee, besides, I love the rush it gives me.” 

Logan cleared his throat. “Actually, there is definitely such thing as too much coffee. If you-” Remy shushed him, not wanting to hear whatever scientific thing Logan was about to start quoting. 

“I’m fine, I just like my coffee.” He walked out of the room, avoiding more questions. The moment he wasn’t visible, Remy yawned, his body begging for sleep. But Remy knew sleep wasn’t a good idea, he couldn’t deal with any of the nightmares he’d been dealing with. Remy physically cringed at the thought of those nightmares. He hadn’t told anyone about them because he wasn’t sure how to properly explain them without sounding crazy, and he didn’t want to feel like a burden to his friends. They all had their own lives and problems, they didn’t need Remy’s problems on top of all that. 

Remy decided that he was going to do something active, something that he couldn’t fall asleep doing. He poured his coffee in a travel container and headed out the front door for a long walk. 

~

Janus waited until he heard the door close, making sure that Remy was gone. 

“I think coffee boi out there has a sleep problem,” Janus said, turning to Logan. 

“Why do you say that?” Logan asked, looking up from his book.

“Look at him. He loves coffee, sure. But recently he’s been drinking more coffee in the span of a few hours that I’ve seen him drink in a couple of days normally. He’s totally out of it, he isn’t as quick on his feet as he usually is, and I’m 98% sure I saw some pretty dark bags under his eyes when he took off his sunglasses. He’s sleep deprived, and he’s trying to make up for it with coffee.” 

Logan nodded. “Remy is a very vocal person, he’s not afraid to speak his mind on almost any subject. I would assume he’d say something if he had a problem, especially if the problem was important like a lack of sleep.” Logan continued to read his book, leaving Janus severely dissatisfied. 

“I’m going to hide the coffee,” Janus said, getting out of his seat and headed to the kitchen. 

“Why would you hide the coffee? People drink that you know,” Logan said, sighing and setting down his book.

“I believe that Remy is using it to stay awake. If he freaks out because the coffee is gone, that might tell us something.” 

“Or he could just be freaking out because the coffee, his favorite drink, is gone simply because you don’t want to ask him directly if he’s been sleeping okay. Just talk to him, don’t make him suffer.” 

“Fine, but if I talk to him and he doesn’t give me a clear answer, I’m hiding the coffee.” 

Virgil walked into the kitchen at that exact moment, turning to Janus. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, but if you’re hiding the coffee, I’ll use your own technique and shove you down a flight of stairs.” 

~

Remy finished his coffee way to quickly, so he decided to head back home to get more coffee. He jogged back to the house and opened the front door, headed straight to the kitchen. 

But the kitchen entry was blocked by Janus. “Hello Remy darling. I think we need to talk.” 

Remy rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. “Can we talk after I get my coffee? I’m all out.” He shook his travel mug to prove that it was empty of coffee.

“I think it’s best that you get coffee after we talk,” Janus said, pulling Remy into the living room and forcing him to sit on the couch. 

“What is going on?” Remy said. “I feel like I’m about to get interrogated.”  

“I’m not going to beat around the bush, I’ve been told that the best way to get an answer out of you is to just say what I’m thinking. Have you been losing sleep for any reason? How is your sleep pattern?” Janus stared at Remy, waiting for a response. Remy squirmed in his seat, visibly uncomfortable. 

“If I answer honestly, can I get more coffee?” He asked. 

“Depends. Now answer the question.” 

“I’ve been sleeping just fine. I don’t know why you’re so worried.” 

Janus sighed. “You do realize that you’re talking to the best liar in this house. I’m literally the Lord of Lies. I can tell when you’re lying, so please, let’s just be honest with each other.”

Remy stared at the coffee mug in his hands. 

“Take off your glasses,” Janus said suddenly.

“What?” 

“Take off your glasses or I will take them off for you.” Janus reached over but Remy blocked his hand and took them off. He had planned on putting some makeup under his eyes to cover his bags, but had never gotten around to doing it, so Janus could now see the full dark circles right under Remy’s eyes.

“Why haven’t you been sleeping Remy. You’ve practically shouted from the rooftops that you love to sleep, so why are you suddenly not sleeping? Why all the coffee, why the endless cycle of activities to keep you awake? You’re either going to die of exhaustion or too much caffeine at this point, neither sound very pleasant.” 

Remy sighed, realizing that he couldn’t stop hiding his problems from his friends. “I’ve been having this reoccurring dream, a nightmare actually. Something from my childhood that I must have repressed and then dragged back up to the conscious part of my mind. But either it’s made me not want to sleep, so I’ve been fighting it with everything I can think of. Coffee, energy drinks, things to keep my mind active. Anything I can think of. As long as I’m not sleeping, I can’t have the nightmare.” 

Janus thought for a moment. “Maybe if I helped, I could use some techniques I learned with Virgil to help you go to sleep with your mind in a much calmer state, which would make it less likely for you to have this nightmare. Please, let me try to help. It’s better than dying.” 

“Fine, you can try some of your things.” 

Janus stood up, offering Remy his gloved hand. Remy raised an eyebrow.

“Right now?” 

“Yes right now, you need sleep. I don’t know how many days you’ve gone without it, but I can tell you that it’s definitely too many.” Remy took Janus’ hand and the two of them walked up the stairs and into Remy’s room. 

“In bed, I’ll get the stuff.” 

“What stuff?” Remy asked.

“A white noise machine, and some calming tea, which does not have caffeine. I also found that Virgil slept better when there was someone else in bed with him, but we can skip that one if you want.” 

Remy thought for a moment. “We can try it, but I reserve the right to kick you out of bed at any point in the night.” 

“Sounds good darling,” Janus said, leaving the room to go the the white noise machine and tea. He brought them back, handing Remy the tea and ordering him to drink the entire mug while he set up the white noise machine.

Once everything was set up and Janus had checked to see if Remy had finished the tea, Janus crawled into the bed next to Remy. 

“It will probably work better if I was basically cuddling you, but if you don’t want that, then we do it your way,” Janus said. Remy nodded, scooting closer to Janus and letting Janus wrap his arms around the other person, holding him. 

Remy wanted to complain about something, anything. But he felt so at peace and calm, that his brain started to shut down and he began to drift to sleep. In almost no time, he was was in a deep sleep. 

That night he slept perfectly, without a single nightmare. He started using the white noise machine every night and the calming tea regularly. If he had problems sleeping, he’d ask Janus to come and help him fall asleep, and every time Janus was more than happy to help. 

“I just want you to take care of yourself,” Janus would say every time he would crawl in bed next to a sleepy Remy. Remy would mumble something that Janus usually couldn’t make out, because Remy was already mostly asleep in Janus’ arms. 

Janus allowed Remy to continue drinking coffee, as long as it was in moderation. Remy would complain a bit whenever Janus asked him how many cups he had drinken that morning, but he tried to be more mindful of his caffeine intake.

Soon, Remy didn’t worry about nightmares or lack of sleep. His sleeping pattern had returned to normal, all thanks to Janus. 

---------

I hope you enjoyed this fic, it was so much fun to write!

If anyone wants to send me a writing prompt, I’m always grateful to receive more! Please read my rules (found here) and then leave the prompt in my inbox! If you stay off anon, I will be sure to contact you with details and things. Though if you leave it as an anon, that’s fine too!