#I once said that sooner hell will freeze over than I draw them right on the first try

[vivenecii]

I have 3tb of files to declutter (I'm a hoarding dragon when it comes to old files) and I found a drawing and a process video that I recorded back in January

[mint-yooxgi]

{6} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader 

Words: 7,790

Warnings: Violence, some slut shaming (again, not done by any of the guys). This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Happy Halloween!!!! Like I said, this part is a little bit shorter than the rest, but I feel like it set up what I have planned for the next chapter nicely. I really hope you all enjoy this part as I had a lot of fun writing it, and I think a lot of you will like what happens in it hehehe anyways, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Mini Masterlist

“Do we really have to go?” Wooyoung whines, a pout tugging at his lips.

“Believe me, I want to go about as much as you do right now,” Yunho exhales a long breath through his nose.

“Shouldn’t one of us stay back at least?” San voices, brow quirked ever so slightly as he looks around at his brothers. Of course, he’s hoping that he’ll be able to be the one to keep you company once more as his brothers deal with whatever they have to at this council meeting.

“For the last time: it’s unavoidable.” Hongjoong sighs. “We should just focus on why the council has been summoned for now.”

“Yeah, and how quickly we can get back here.” Jongho mumbles, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Well, from past events we know it’ll take at least an hour and a half,” Seonghwa grimaces, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

“The sooner we can get this over with, the sooner we can get back here.” Mingi says, placing his hat onto his head. He doesn’t like this anymore than his brothers do, and if they could stay home with you, they would.

“Agreed.” Yeosang huffs, smoothing out the front of his coat.

Currently, all eight of them stand in the middle of the foyer, putting the last final touches on their outfits for the evening. Since the council hasn’t been summoned in quite some time, they have to wear their ‘official’ all black looks, complete with their hats. Each of their clothes may vary in style, but collectively, they all complement one another, truly looking like the leaders of the realm that they are always meant to be.

A moment of silence passes by.

“I should probably go tell her that we’re leaving.” Jongho says, already taking a step towards your room where you’ve been cooped up all day leading up to this evening.

A hand on his shoulder prevents him from moving more than one step forwards.

“I’ll go tell her,” Mingi practically shoves Jongho behind him as he goes to step passed him.

“Like hell you are,” Yeosang glares at the taller male as he moves to step in front of him to block his path.

“If anyone is telling her we’re leaving, it’ll be me.” Seonghwa nearly rolls his eyes as he moves to shove the younger two out of his way to begin walking towards the hallway that will lead to your room.

Only, Hongjoong’s hand flying out in front of him suddenly halts him in his tracks.

“Will you all calm down.” His eyes narrow. “Listen.”

Sure enough, when they focus back on their surroundings they can hear the familiar sound of your footsteps drawing near. You seem to be walking at a leisurely pace, only causing them each to hold their breaths as you approach them.

“Oh my-” as soon as you round the corner to see them all standing there, you freeze in your tracks. Your breath immediately catches, words dying in your throat as you blink a few times at them almost in shock. Then, you snort out a mild laugh as you grip the book you have held in your arms more firmly. “You guys are really doing wonders to fight against those cult allegations.”

Wooyoung snorts out a laugh with you, grins tugging onto Mingi’s, San’s, and Yunho’s faces while the others straighten slightly in their spots. Each begins to feel that telltale sense of pride within their chests at the way you’re continuously looking at them.

You can’t help it, the way your eyes trail over each one of them individually. You’ve never seen them dressed up like this before, not even for that one dinner you had with all of them all those weeks ago. In fact, their outfits remind you of a certain fictional character whom you haven’t thought about in quite some time. One who is very dear to you. Still, you cannot deny that they all look good.

At the feeling of your gaze roaming over the expanse of their bodies, each male has to suppress the pleased growl that wants to escape their throats. Their minds are battling with one another currently, arguing amongst themselves about who held your gaze the longest, and who you looked the most enraptured by while taking them all in.

San is convinced it’s him, while Seonghwa strongly disagrees. Wooyoung obviously knows it’s him, yet Jongho would beg to differ. Yunho had straightened considerably, smoothing out the front of his jacket as your eyes trailed over him the longest (at least in his mind), while Mingi would swear it was him who held your gaze over the others. Yeosang, on the outside, still looks calm and collected, while internally he’s battling it out with Hongjoong over who caused your lips to twitch upwards even if just the slightest.

You clear your throat, breaking them out of whatever trance they seem to be in.

“So,” you shift slightly on your feet, holding your book more firmly as you pass it between your hands, “you guys are leaving soon?”

At least one thing they can all agree on: they hate how you sound so hopeful. Why do you have to look so excited to be left alone, and to be away from them for any period of time, quirked brow and all? Can’t you at least be a little upset?

Hongjoong nods, naturally pushing his jacket back as he shoves his hands into his pockets. At the way he feels you trail your eyes over his figure as he does so, he has to suppress his own from shifting black in content. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay by yourself for that long?”

One final hand extended to you to get them to stay. Really, you need only say the word and they would blow off the entire council for you. Besides, you are all that truly matters to them at the moment.

You meet his gaze, the corner of your lips tugging upwards, “more than okay.”

Again, why do you have to sound so happy about it? Wooyoung, San, and Mingi all pout, and even Jongho’s lips tug downwards in a frown. Yeosang and Seonghwa cross their arms, while Yunho and Hongjoong just sigh.

“What are you going to do?” Wooyoung voices the thought on all of their minds, genuine curiosity held in his tone.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, demon boy?” You quirk a brow, a devious smirk tugging at your lips.

At this, they all turn to look at Wooyoung. This is the first time you’ve referred to one of them, almost affectionately, by any type of specific nickname around the others, and to say the others are jealous would be a severe understatement. Wooyoung, on the other hand, is absolutely revelling in the fact that you called him demon boy once more, his lips quirking upwards smugly in the corners. It’s like your own little secret.

“I think we’d all like to know,” Jongho mumbles, his pout becoming more prominent on his features.

Of course you’d just have to be thinking about that damn void right now. It’s not like they desperately want to know what you’re actually thinking about, or what you actually think about them, especially in these outfits. You seemed impressed, but with you, they can never be so sure. Besides, it would mean more to them hearing it from your own mouth, or rather, thoughts in this case.

Luckily, or rather, unluckily for them, your next words seem to answer their original question.

“Well, if you must know,” you huff, rolling your eyes somewhat. “I was going to read, but now I think I have a hot date with an old friend of mine.”

“A date?” Seonghwa can barely suppress the growl on his lips, echoed lowly by both San and Mingi. Even Wooyoung’s mood immediately plummets, the high from the nickname you called him mere seconds before crashing into the ground.

“Yeah,” you grin, somewhat amusedly. 

“Who?” Before you can continue, San’s voice, low and ominous, rings out through the foyer, his eyes swirling with that all too familiar blackness. “How?”

“You really think I can go anywhere, let alone meet up with someone else right now?” Your eyes widen in mild amusement as a huff escapes your lips. “No, it’s just that your outfits reminded me of a certain favourite fictional reaper of mine.” You shrug. “Just made me realize I haven’t watched Goblin in a while.”

“Reaper?” This time, Hongjoong doesn’t suppress when his eyes flash black.

“Relax,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as your book is held firm in your one hand, tucked against your torso. “Didn’t pin you guys for getting jealous over a fictional character.” You hum, mildly amused, “then again…"

“We’re not jealous.” Yeosang grumbles, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“Denial.” You snort out a laugh. Then, more to yourself, you mutter, “hate to imagine what you’d be like if you ever found out about my favourite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.”

Immediately, Mingi’s nose is scrunching in disgust. “Please tell me you don’t like that stupid, blindfold wearing asshole.”

“Fuck, no,” you snort, mildly amused that he knows exactly what you’re talking about for the moment. “He’s way too arrogant for me.” Then, you tilt your head side to side as if contemplating something, humming all the while, “then again, he’s probably worse.”

“Who?” San’s voice is low, a slight growl to his inquiry.

You sigh, almost dreamily, a wistful smile on your face, “Sukuna.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Wooyoung swears, clearly exasperated.

“Really, I’m surprised you even had to ask considering one of the three plushies I brought back with me was him printed on a small pillow.” You shrug, stating the obvious as your arms drop back to your sides.

“It must have slipped our minds.” Seonghwa hisses out through clenched teeth.

“Well, clearly we’re getting rid of that when we get back.” Yunho states, shooting you a pointed look.

“Excuse you,” your eyebrows raise considerably in disbelief, “Sukuna is a guest.”

“Not in this household.” San retorts, and you notice how a majority of them cross their arms in front of their chests.

“Not to you,” you match his sass, meeting his gaze with a pointed look of your own. “Just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean I don’t like him.”

“That’s the issue,” Jongho grumbles. 

“The fact that I enjoy a fictional character?” Your eyebrow quirks once more in disbelief. “He’s not even real. He’s literally lines on a page.” You voice, incredulously, tone slightly more high pitched than usual. “Would you rather me going back to thinking about the idols I enjoy?”

“No!” Immediately, Mingi, San, and Wooyoung all respond, taking a small step towards you as the others scowl right along with them.

Then again, they’d never know if that is exactly what you do considering your void is still up. A fact which only makes growls build in their chests once more. There’s always an option to attack your mental void all at once, but they would rather not put you through that type of mental strain. They care about you too much. Plus, they promised they would never hurt you.

“Too late,” a devious smirk stretches across your features as you begin to chuckle, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth in the next second.

However, what you fail to notice is the way Yunho’s jaw twitches. Even more so than the other seven around him who all seem to be clenching theirs in response.

“You’re really testing our patience, Love,” Hongjoong is tense, his fists clenched at his sides as he meets your gaze.

“Oh, am I?” You smile innocently, dropping your one hand back to your side. Then, just as innocently, you say, “aren’t you going to be late?”

That seems to pull them back to reality and the task at hand, scowls on all of their faces.

“This isn’t over.” Seonghwa states, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Isn’t it?” You grin, a teasing quirk to your brow as you chuckle. “It’s so easy to rile you guys up.”

“Then why do you test us so?” Mingi asks, whole body tense as he locks gazes with you.

“Why?” You hum, briefly glancing at all of them once more. “I wouldn’t tease you if I didn’t feel comfortable around you.”

Immediately, they all go silent, your words settling over them as pure and utter surprise courses through their veins. Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Yunho all blink in shock, lips parting ever so slightly. San, Wooyoung, and Jongho all cannot suppress the pleased growls that escape them. Even Yeosang and Mingi have the gall to look somewhat smug for the moment before a bright smile is stretching across Mingi’s lips.

“Anyways…” you clear your throat, your admission finally sinking in for your own self as well. Then, seemingly against your better judgment, you continue, “good luck with the council, or whatever.” You turn around so they cannot see the way you avert your gaze so bashfully as the next words fall from your mouth, nothing but a mere whisper on your lips. “You, uh, all look really handsome.”

The sound of your first footstep is synonymous with the resounding growls of content that echo around the room as you begin to walk back towards the hallway that you’ve just come from. You can feel each of their gazes on your form, and you’re willing to bet that their eyes have flashed black as well. Only, there seems to be one gaze that is piercing your figure much more intensely than the rest.

“Captain.” Jongho attempts to grab Hongjoong’s attention, his brow furrowing as he gets no response from the elder. “Captain?”

Your brow quirks slightly as you turn to shoot them one last look from over your shoulder just as you reach the open archway of the hall. Lips quirking at the corners, you lock gazes with Hongjoong who seems to be the only one still staring at you so intently for the moment. You raise your free hand, wiggling your fingers in a final wave before disappearing around the corner.

“Captain?” It’s only when Seonghwa places a hand onto Hongjoong’s shoulder does the younger of the two finally snap out of his daze.

“Right.” He exhales a long breath through his nose. “Let’s go.”

Without another word, all eight of them are transporting themselves deep within the reaches of their domain near where the council will be taking place. None can deny the way their chests swirl with pride as your last admission lingers in the air between them, each standing a little taller as they land in their own throne room.

“That went better than expected.” Yunho is the first to break the silence between all of them. “Sort of.”

“I still would prefer her not teasing us like that.” San grumbles, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Believe me, I think we’d all prefer her not doing that.” Yeosang sits on the steps leading up to their thrones, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees. The rest of the council will just have to wait for now. After all, it will only start once they arrive.

“But hey,” Jongho chimes in, a lightness to his voice, “at least we know she’s starting to trust us. Especially with everything she’s implied and said tonight.”

“But Sukuna of all characters?” Mingi grumbles, taking a seat beside Yeosang on the steps as he rubs over his face with his hands.

“Isn’t he just essentially us, but fictional?” Hongjoong turns to look at Mingi for confirmation.

“He’s less powerful, though,” Wooyoung adds as Mingi nods, “and less attractive.”

“He’s still known as the ‘King of Curses’,” San mumbles.

“Yeah, and we’re the fucking Kings of the Realm,” Seonghwa spits, arms crossed in front of his chest as his eyes flash. “If she can like him, then she can like us.”

“We are the real thing, after all,” Yunho hums. “Minus the tattoos and extra limbs.”

Yeosang’s eyes narrow at the male standing before him, “how do you know what he looks like? You haven’t even seen a single episode of the anime, or read one page of the manga.”

Yunho quirks a brow, his lips twitching upwards expectantly at his brothers.

Seonghwa inhales sharply as realization crosses his features, “you’ve been able to get passed her void.”

Yunho smirks, noticing how he seems to have their full attention on him now.

“How?” Wooyoung takes a step forwards, eagerness on his features along with Jongho, San, Mingi, and Seonghwa. “When?”

“I can’t do it all of the time, but since the crowning when she opened her mind up to me again briefly, I was able to latch on to that opening and worm my way in.” Yunho explains, noticing how some of them tense at the recollection of that moment in verbiage only.

“You always were the best out of all of us when it came to that sort of stuff, anyways,” Hongjoong nods, impressed, despite that familiar jealous pit burning beneath the surface of his skin right now.

“We all have our own skills that we play to our advantage,” Yunho’s eyes flash as he meets Hongjoong’s gaze. “I simply acted when the opportunity presented itself.”

“What else was she thinking?” Jongho’s gaze is a little too eager as he looks at Yunho.

“I don’t think you want to know.” Yunho shakes his head.

“I think we do.” Seonghwa quirks a brow, noticing how both Yeosang and Wooyoung seem to be on the exact same page as him, even if Yeosang is trying to hide how eager he is at the moment.

“Well,” Yunho sighs, smoothing his hands down the front of his jacket, “I caught glimpses of another idol she apparently likes, only this time she was picturing him as Sukuna.”

“Who?” Both San and Hongjoong snarl at the same time, Mingi and Wooyoung growling right along with them.

“I didn’t recognize him right away, but I could have sworn his name started with a ‘Jae’,” Yunho frowns, attempting to recall the memory in more detail.

“Like, the letter, or…?” Wooyoung quirks a brow.

“No, the first part of his name was ‘Jae’,” Yunho replies.

Immediately, both Jongho and Yeosang tense as the mental image of what you had been thinking about, or rather, whom, flashes in all of their minds, curtesy of Yunho.

“Jaehyun.” Yeosang spits out the name like it’s venom on his tongue, eyes flashing black beneath the rim of his hat.

“I thought she said he broke her heart without cause or care?” Jongho growls, immediately echoed by the seven demons surrounding him.

“Maybe it’s not the same one,” Wooyoung suggests, fingers twitching as his soul calls for blood to be shed right alongside Hongjoong’s very own.

“Oh, I believe it is.” Yeosang scowls.

“How could an idol break her heart?” Mingi frowns slightly, attempting to wrap his head around this situation. “Why would she still think of him, then?”

“Maybe she wasn’t being serious when she told you?” San suggests, holding onto that final hope before his own sanity snaps for the evening. He’s already ticked off about the council gathering enough, the last thing he needs is to not be able to make a rational decision when they need him to.

“Maybe.” Jongho grumbles, taking a seat on the stairs beside Mingi in the next moment.

“This doesn’t change the fact that she’s still thinking about other people.” Hongjoong states, voice firm as his fingers dig into the skin of his crossed arms. “Other men, no less.”

“I don’t know what else we can do apart from brainwashing her to make her like us faster,” Seonghwa mumbles, shaking his head in the next second as several pairs of eyes turn to glare at him.

“We’ve already agreed that that would be something we would never do.” Hongjoong’s voice is low, threatening. “Especially not to her.”

“I know,” Seonghwa exhales an exasperated breath. “It’s just difficult-“

“You think we don’t know that?” Yeosang shouts, standing back onto his feet instantly, eyes flashing once more. “It’s difficult for all of us, Seonghwa, not just you.”

“Maybe if you shared with us what you talked about last week, we’d all be a little bit more understanding,” Wooyoung grumbles, frown prominent on his features as he looks towards the eldest.

“That is not my memory to share, brother.” Seonghwa narrows his eyes back at the younger, noticing how they all seem to back off for the moment in understanding.

Then, a moment later, both Yunho and Jongho are letting out two very exasperated sighs of their own.

“Can we not focus on how she just complimented us before we left?” Yunho’s voice rumbles out, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.

“Or even how she reacted when she first saw us tonight?” Jongho takes off his hat, running his fingers through his hair in the next moment.

“How long has it been since she’s looked at all of us with something other than caution, or malcontent in her eyes?” Hongjoong asks the question on all of their minds.

A moment of silence passes over them as they let his words sink in.

“Too long.” Yeosang’s voice nearly catches in his throat, overcome by the conflicting emotions swirling within himself at the events that have just taken place mere minutes before.

“We’ve all been making considerable progress with her just in this past month alone,” Mingi breathes. “Just imagine where we’ll be in another few weeks.”

“Believe me, I always do.” Yunho sighs.

“Maybe we should wear these more often.” Jongho jokes, motioning over the front of his outfit with the hand that’s still holding onto his hat as he stands.

“If it means her calling me handsome again, I’ll wear anything she wants.” San voices, a soft smile painting his features as he blinks a few times dreamily, recalling how your eyes roamed over his figure barely ten minutes earlier.

“Her comment was directed at me.” Wooyoung states, matter of factly, as his eyes narrow at San.

“In your fucking dreams, demon boy.” Seonghwa huffs, rolling his eyes as Wooyoung snarls at him in response.

“Every damn night, handsy,” Wooyoung retorts, taking a threatening step towards the eldest as his eyes flash black.

“Knock it off,” Hongjoong snaps, frown prominent on his features as he looks to each one of them. “All of you.”

Yunho sighs, “let’s just get through this stupid council meeting, and get back to our girl, yeah?”

Murmurs of agreement course throughout the room from all of them as Mingi stands back onto his feet. Begrudgingly, they all walk towards the main doors of the throne room in order to enter the grand hall where this council will be taking place. Everyone else should be there already, simply waiting for them to arrive. Besides, the sooner they can get this over with, the better. At least they can all agree on that.

They’re just lucky that the throne room is sound proof. Besides, no one would dare to eavesdrop on their Kings.

In an instant, the doors to the throne room are swinging open on silent hinges, the murmurs within the grand room coming to a halt as the eight kings make their appearance. Immediately, all those who have been summoned bow, taking a knee as the leaders appear before them. Only when Hongjoong flicks his wrist in an upwards motion do the other demons in the room stand back to their feet.

“Is there a reason you summoned us here tonight?” Hongjoong’s eyes narrow at the demons all standing around the room.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” one of the demons standing off to his right, Jax, begins.

“Then what is it?” Seonghwa’s scowl is prominent, annoyed that they couldn’t be told what this council was about in the letter they received summoning them here tonight.

“There have been issues recently between the major clans.” Jax responds.

“Issues?” Wooyoung quirks a brow.

“And you couldn’t figure it out yourselves?” Jongho huffs, unamused.

“There have been many attempts to settle the land disputes and power imbalances, but nothing has come to fruition.” Miyeon crosses her arms in front of her chest, clearly as annoyed as they are right now, if not more. “Not that you would care.”

In a flash, Hongjoong has her by the throat, her feet dangling in the air as she struggles in his grip. His eyes are pitch black and violent, snarl on his features as he blocks her airway.

Just like old times, huh, boys? Her voice resounding through all of their heads has disgust pulling onto their features.

“Watch your tone.” Hongjoong growls, tightening his grip on her neck.

Out of all of them, Hongjoong is the one who tolerates any sort of disrespect towards any of them the least. All of them know not to get in his way when he gets like this, but that doesn’t mean they won’t step in from time to time.

“We apologize for her stepping out of line,” Miyeon’s older sister, Mina steps forward, bowing lowly along with the rest of their clan who has decided to show up to this council tonight. “Please, hear us out.”

“Fine.” Carelessly, Hongjoong tosses Miyeon onto the floor at her clan’s feet. “Hurry up, we don’t have all night.”

No sentiment for old lovers? Miyeon heaves a breath as air returns to her lungs, looking up to meet Hongjoong’s gaze. You really have gone cold.

Watch your mind before we break it. Yunho harshly replies, eight sets of eyes glaring at the demon still on the ground at their feet.

The resentment is clear in her gaze as she looks back up at them, but also a hint of hurt lingers there. Wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, she stands back to her feet, too proud to apologize, even to them.

Fixating his gaze on Mina, Hongjoong motions for her to continue.

“The factions you previously divided up are beginning to attack one another for territory in the deeper parts of the realm. Many of the lower ranks are seeking power in any and every way they can, starting with the attempted annihilation of the better known clans.” Mina explains.

“How long has this been going on?” Mingi steps forward slightly.

“Two months.” Jax states.

“Two months?” San is this close to losing his temper, and he’s barely been in the room for more than five minutes. “No one thought to contact us earlier?”

“You seemed preoccupied.” Miyeon spits, arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s been over twenty years, Miyeon,” her father, Otis, whispers quite harshly to her as he steps forward to place a hand onto her shoulder. “Let it go.”

Instantly, she shrugs his hand off, standing a little straighter. Her eyes begin to blaze with an untamed fire only five of them have ever truly seen before.

Yeosang sighs, turning to meet Mina’s gaze, “what do you want us to do about it?”

“Killing them all would be nice, considering you usually don’t have any issues with that.” Miyeon huffs out a response instead, a roll to her eyes.

“Would you like to be the starting example?” Seonghwa tilts his head mockingly, eyes wide and wild as he stares her down.

At this, she stiffens, lowering her gaze from the intensity of his own.

Mina shoots her sister a look out of the corner of her eyes. “We would like your permission to protect ourselves without consequence against those that oppose us in our own domain.”

The eight of them all share a brief glance between one another before Hongjoong lets out a long sigh. “Do what you have to do.”

Many of the demons begin to grin around the room. Awful, malicious smirks that paint their features in shadows.

“However,” Yunho adds, drawing all of their attention back to the eight of them at the head of the room, “we will try any that you capture and bring before us if that is what you so wish. We have to make examples out of them somehow.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” choruses around the room.

“Is that all?” San quirks a brow, slightly hopeful that they can cut this council summoning short.

“No, Your Majesty,” Jax replies, suddenly cautious at the way he sees San’s expression fall back into an annoyed scowl. “There are quite a few other things as well.”

It takes them a full hour and a half to deal with each small individual complaint some of the other clans have, each one grating on their last nerve. Some of them are ridiculous, petty arguments that could be settled without their help, but unfortunately it seems some of their subjects cannot think for themselves. Others are there clearly to attempt to impress them, a fact which only makes them dislike them even more. Though, a few of them they can all agree upon that, yes, they did have to attend to that particular matter.

Still, all cannot wait to get back home to you.

Finally, after what feels like forever, they reach the end of the concerns from the surrounding demons. Some of them linger after the council concludes, talking amongst themselves or wanting to chat with their leaders about little things here and there. Of course, they have to keep appearances, so before they know it, Mingi, San, Wooyoung, and Yunho are all being dragged off by different clans to catch them up on whatever endeavours have transpired since the last time they talked to them.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa circle the room, making sure they’ve gotten all the information they can out of the demons who have requested something from them. Of course, their biggest concern is the potential threat to them. Any threat against them is a threat against you, and the last thing they want is for you to be caught in the crossfire in any way, shape, or form.

Jongho and Yeosang both stand off to the side for now, conversing amongst themselves until Jongho is being called over by the two eldest to help settle a small dispute between one of the major clans he rules over that has just seemingly arisen.

Letting out a sigh, Yeosang crosses his arms. A furrow creases his brow as he begins to think about what you may or may not be currently doing back at home. Oh, so badly does he just want to leave. To go ahead of his brothers and see you once more this evening. 

Perhaps it’s too much of a wishful thought on his part, but Yeosang cannot help but to imagine sneaking away while his brothers wrap up here in order to spend some quality time with you before they get back. He could watch an episode of Goblin with you, if that’s what you were doing. Really, it doesn’t matter to him, just as long as he gets to spend time with you. It’s not like he wants to check out this reaper you claim to like, or anything.

“Who is she?” Miyeon’s stern voice from behind him manages to pull him out of his own thoughts, turning around to face her in an instant.

“Excuse me?” Yeosang quirks a brow, slightly amused by her audacity.

“The new whore you all seem to be obsessed with.” She spits, and instantly, Yeosang has her pinned to the wall, cracks appearing from how harshly he’s slammed her into it.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” His eyes are black, a snarl on his lips.

“I knew it,” she huffs out a breath, shaking her head as Mingi is the first to appear beside Yeosang, followed shortly by San and Wooyoung a little ways away.

Carefully, Mingi places a hand on his brother’s shoulder, his own anger from overhearing Miyeon’s words hardly being restrained as he attempts to pull Yeosang off of her.

You’re just giving her what she wants. Mingi’s voice resounds in Yeosang’s head.

I don’t care. Yeosang growls out threateningly as he feels Miyeon begin to struggle beneath his hold, only causing him to harshly push her further into the wall. If she thinks she can say these things about My Dearest, then she has another thing coming.

Most of the other demons around the room vanish in an instant, not wanting to incur the wrath that they are sure is about to be brought down upon Miyeon. However, those few that remain, mainly from her own clan, can only watch on in shock, frozen in fear, and much too terrified to interfere.

“Is the sex that good that you would rather bed a human than me?” Her question is directed at all of them, but really only four in particular. At the way she sees Hongjoong appear beside Yeosang, one of his signature blades clutched dangerously in his hand, she knows she’s struck something.

“I never bedded you,” Yeosang spits, venom laced in every word. “Nor have I ever wanted to.”

Mingi manages to pull Yeosang off of her finally, taking a few steps back as Seonghwa comes to stand beside Hongjoong, his own hand placed on the younger’s shoulder.

“Miyeon, I think we’ve overstayed our welcome-“

“This is bullshit!” She shouts, cutting off her sister instantly. “Since when do Kings submit to dirt?”

The knife is embedded within her left shoulder before anyone can react, Hongjoong’s chest heaving with every breath he takes. Black eyes full of malice meet Miyeon’s own, and she finds no sympathy in any of the other’s gazes, not even those she was closest to.

Clutching the handle of the dagger, Miyeon rips it out of her shoulder, blood trickling out of her wound.

“There was a time when you would have done anything for me.” She voices, somewhat disappointedly. “Now, it’s all for some pathetic human? What a joke.”

“Miyeon.” Her father warns.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Hongjoong tilts his head, nothing but a sinister grin pulling at his lips as he looks at her with mock sympathy. “I never cared for you in the first place.”

Miyeon screams in rage, throwing the dagger directly at Hongjoong who catches it with ease, tutting all the while as he shakes his head.

Instantly, his eyes flash, and the blade is protruding from her opposite shoulder.

Almost pleadingly, she turns to look at San, then Wooyoung, and then Mingi, until she spares a glance at the other four, “are you really going to let him treat me like this? Did I mean nothing to you?”

“Twenty years ago I might have felt a little bad about this,” Wooyoung shrugs, leaning against one of the pillars at the side of the room. Already, he’s barely holding onto his fury, about two seconds away from skinning Miyeon alive for what she’s already said about you.

“You mean nothing to us.” Mingi states, looking down upon her with a blank gaze.

“You are nothing.” San’s eyes swirl with that all too familiar blackness, arms crossed as he attempts to keep his whole body from shaking in rage.

Miyeon’s expression drops only momentarily before a vicious scowl tugs at her features.

“You’ll grow tired of that whore soon enough.” She spits, clutching at the dagger embedded in her opposite shoulder, the blade too deep this time to simply rip out. “From the looks of things, she’s playing hard to get. Must be agony not being able to wet your dicks when you want to.”

Immediately, Seonghwa has her by the throat against the wall, more cracks appearing as he slams her back into the same spot Yeosang had just been holding her against. His eyes flash black as he growls threateningly, teeth bared in a snarl. “One more word form you and I’ll snap your fucking neck.”

“Seonghwa.” It’s Jongho that manages to pull the eldest off of her this time, practically holding him back as the youngest puts a leash on his own anger.

Then, her father is taking a cautious step forward, looking sternly towards his daughter, yet too scared to properly intervene. “Miyeon, that’s enough.”

“Get her out of our sights.” Hongjoong spits, beginning to turn his back to her, not wanting to deal with this situation any longer.

Surprisingly, Yunho has been quiet this whole time, but all of them know that there is a storm raging behind those dark eyes of his as he stands the furthest away from the scene out of the eight of them.

However, before either her father or her sister can reach her, Miyeon manages to get out some final words. Unfortunately for her, they are her very own death sentence.

“That’s right, run back to the little human slut,” she huffs out a laugh. “What was her name, anyways? Oh, right,” a malicious grin stretches across her lips as she watches Hongjoong freeze with his back turned to her as she says your name with nothing but pure venom on her tongue. “I wonder what you’ll all do when she’s dead.”

Before anyone else has a chance to react, Hongjoong has Miyeon by the jaw against the wall. A resounding crack echoes throughout the room, but this time, it’s not from the wall.

“Get My Love’s sacred name out of your filthy mouth.” Hongjoong leans in to whisper lowly in Miyeon’s ear as tears begin to line her eyes, his own as black as night and calling for blood. “If I ever hear you say her name again, I will carve your tongue out of your mouth after I make you taste the contents of your innards from ripping them out of you in the most painful ways I know how.”

Her breath catches, the first of her tears falling from her eyes as his words sink in. He never called her that before. He never threatened anyone who threatened her, so why you? What makes you so special?

Miyeon’s jaw throbs, the broken bone cracked in multiple places as Hongjoong squeezes his hand harder against her.

“What’s the matter, Mimi?” He hums in mock concern, practically hissing her old nickname they gave her back at her, making her whimper as his eyes hold that crazed look in them that she knows all too well. “Cat got your tongue?”

She looks around once more, noticing the other seven look at her just as darkly, eyes calling for her blood to be spilt - for her soul to be torn apart until there’s nothing left but a wisp of a memory in her family’s minds.

White hot fury courses through her veins as she continues being held against the cracked wall by Hongjoong. A jealous fire worse than Hongjoong’s own burns within her, absolutely despising your very existence. Tears fall freely down her face as she blinks, her mind running wild with plans to absolutely destroy you for taking them away from her.

Only, they were never hers to begin with.

At one particular thought, Yunho’s eyes flash and a scream is tearing from Miyeon’s throat as she slumps in Hongjoong’s grip. He releases his hold on her, letting her fall limply to the floor as he steps away from her in disgust.

Of course she would pass out. Yunho only made her feel like thousands of tiny needles were stabbing her mind. Not quite enough to break her, but enough to serve as a warning if she ever were to act on those thoughts and come after you.

Wiping his hands on the front of his coat, Hongjoong turns to face Otis, a look of severe discontent shining in his pure black eyes.

“If we ever see her here again, we will not be so kind.” Hongjoong snaps, the others falling in line beside him as their own eyes flash black. “Now, get out of our sights.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, all of the demons, save for Mina and Otis leave the room. It only takes two seconds for them to grab Miyeon’s body, and to be transporting themselves away from the grand hall, but neither father nor sister will forget the burning gazes of all eight of their leaders boring holes into them as they did so.

Once the room clears, San turns and punches a hole right through the wall beside him, the entire building shaking from the intensity of his fist. “Fuck.”

“You really know how to pick ‘em.” Wooyoung rounds on San instantly.

“Don’t you dare pin this on me, you wanted her as much as I did twenty years ago, too.” San snaps back at the younger male.

“She only used us to try and get to Yeosang, anyways.” Mingi sighs, taking off his hat as he crouches to the ground. “He was the only one she truly wanted.”

“Yeah, until Yunho started training her mentally,” Jongho rolls his eyes, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Then it was like a game to her of how many of us she could try and trap.”

“Don’t remind me,” Yunho sighs, taking his own hat off to run his fingers through his hair. They all know he regrets it the most out of all of them.

Seven heads turn to look at Hongjoong who is currently zoning out and staring intently at the cracked wall, chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“Captain, are you okay?” Yeosang voices the question on all of their minds.

A full minute passes by, and they still get no response.

“Captain?” Jongho attempts to catch Hongjoong’s attention, but the fire he sees burning behind the elder’s gaze has him backing down for the moment.

“Hongjoong.” It’s Seonghwa who manages to pull the younger back to reality by placing a hand onto his shoulder, fingers digging into the material of his jacket.

“I should have killed her.” Hongjoong hisses, eyes flashing black once more. “I should have made an example of her right where she stood when I had the chance.”

“But you did.” Mingi is the first to assure him. “We’ve now warned her clan of the consequences, and we have every right to skin her alive the next time we see her. And if she so much as thinks about harming our love…”

Mingi lets his words trail off, resounding growls of agreement rumbling through the air between all of them.

“Believe me, we all wanted to skin her alive for what she said about our love just now.” Wooyoung snarls, along with both San and Seonghwa.

“It’s my fault for allowing her to bait me.” Yeosang’s jaw clenches as he looks towards the cracked wall once more. “If I didn’t react-“

“You did what you felt was best,” Seonghwa states, voice somewhat reassuring as he drops his hand from Hongjoong’s shoulder finally. “If she cornered me like that I would have torn her head clean off.”

“We all know you wanted to, anyways,” Mingi snorts, rolling his eyes.

“You wouldn’t have complained.” Seonghwa crosses his arms in front of his chest as Mingi raises his hands palms upwards, shrugging in agreement.

“How did she even know about our love’s name, anyways?” San’s inquiry has a growl rising on all of their lips at the memory of mere minutes ago.

“It’s easier to invade someone’s mind without them knowing during times of extreme emotion or distress, especially when they are experiencing uncontrollable anger, pain, or fear.” Yunho states, eyes blankly staring ahead of him. “I fear I trained her too well. It could have been any one of us she gathered that information from.”

“It’s been twenty fucking years,” San voices, exasperatedly. “You think she’d give it a rest by now, and recognize that we’ve moved on.”

“That’s the problem, though, isn’t it?” Jongho blinks, his expression unamused. “You’ve forgotten about her, but she clearly hasn’t let go of you.”

“You were right not to get involved back then,” Mingi sighs, directing his comment at the youngest.

“I warned you guys,” Jongho huffs out a breath as he shrugs, essentially telling them all ‘I told you so’.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “The past has passed. We’re not going to change it now.”

“If she so much as even tries anything that she had been thinking in the end,” Hongjoong finally speaks once more, voice low and ominous, like the calm of an approaching storm, “I will destroy her.”

Seven growls of agreement resonate throughout the room, their eyes all flashing black once more.

“There’s no way that she can get into our own personal domain, especially not when we’re there.” Seonghwa reasons, though there’s a hint of worry in his tone. 

You’re now in constant danger due to Miyeon, and if her family cannot control her, then the eight of them will have to act, and fast. No one comes after you without them knowing about it. No one touches you, or will bring you any harm. At least, not while they are around. They will always protect you, whether you realize it or not.

“Our wards are far too intricate for the likes of her,” Yeosang agrees, silently reassuring the eldest with just a glance.

“It’s not like we can’t protect her.” Yunho adds, the other seven humming along with him.

“If we take our beloved anywhere outside of our domain, we’ll just have to be extra careful now.” Wooyoung voices the thoughts on all of their minds.

“Agreed.” Mingi, San, Yunho, and Jongho all say at once, the other three nodding along with them.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather not return to our beloved ready to tear into someone’s throat.” San smiles tightly, noticing how Wooyoung, Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Yunho all flick their brows upwards in agreement.

“Why don’t we pay those little demons stirring up trouble a visit?” Yeosang voices, almost nonchalantly.

“Two birds with one stone,” Mingi shrugs, standing back to his full height and straightening out his jacket.

“As much as I want to be getting back home to our girl, considering how long we’ve already been gone, I think this would be best for all of us.” Yunho nods in agreement, placing his hat back onto his head.

“I could relieve some stress,” Jongho hums, brushing off the arms of his jacket.

“Good.” Seonghwa takes in a deep breath before turning to Hongjoong. “Captain?”

They all look to their leader, awaiting his final orders.

Hongjoong grins, a malicious tug to his lips as his eyes darken, “let’s go spill some blood.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language and mild medical drama

Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans

Genre: Hurt + comfort

Summary: Bela is somewhat unprepared to deal with a soulmate who has no clue about her condition, her family, or any of the village's secrets. Thankfully, her sister Cassandra is more than willing to be a bad example. Also there's some fluff.

Notes: For reference, each of my soulmate stories take place in their own contained timeline, since they each involve different types of soulmates. So in this one, Cass doesn't currently have a soulmate.

Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow

2: Tangled Strands

A gentle humming fills the space around you, as fingers slowly run through your hair. As far as you can tell you had fallen back asleep, for several hours, and you were just now waking back up. No longer holding you down, your soulmate is curled up next to you. There’s still a needle in your arm, much to your irritation, but now you can finally see what it’s connected to: An IV for a transfusion. Explains why I’m feeling so much better than before, you think. Then you’re turning your head to the other side, eager to finally get a good look at your soulmate. Instantly you’re blushing, tongue tying itself into a knot, because wow are you lucky.

“Feeling any better?” She asked, as soon as your gaze met hers. You try to stutter out a confirmation, but you’re too distracted by the soft curve of her smile to speak, and barely even manage a nod. That beautiful smile grows wider in response. “Good. I couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering more, after what you’ve already been through.” Now her smile fades, and she looks away for a few moments. Watching it makes your heart ache. So you swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself to relax, before trying a little comforting of your own.

“I am safe now, am I not? Moreso, we have too much to talk about for us to dwell on the ill circumstances of our introduction. Let us cherish this time, in respite, with our hearts open wide to one another,” you said, donning your softest smile. Somehow your words fulfill their purpose, and your soulmate is once again grinning. Slowly she leans forward to rest her forehead against yours. Then she’s speaking, voice as smooth as the sheets you lay on.

“You are right, of course. I simply wish I could have saved you sooner,” she replied, tone betraying the sadness that her expression otherwise hid. Before you can protest, she continues talking, and you soon forget all about your qualms. “To think I don’t even know your name yet… nor you mine, I suppose. Let’s remedy that, yes? I am Bela Dimitrescu.” Something about her last name feels familiar to you, but not to the point of clear recognition. Instead of inquiring, you return her favor, giving her your own name. She repeats it back a few times, letting the syllables roll off her tongue, and you feel your heart skip a few beats. “A lovely name for a lovely soul, perfectly paired.”

A pause, followed by Bela reaching out to examine your IV. Following her gaze, you turn to the metal hook adjacent to the bed, where a blood bag hangs. Only a few drops remain inside. Just as when you first awoke, Bela gives a soft hum, then rises into a sitting position. Your first instinct is to copy the motion, and you’re relieved when (this time) she doesn’t push you back down. Both of you quietly inch your hands closer until they’re laid on top of each other.

“I wish I knew more about medicine, but unfortunately my family is more experienced in the creation of wounds than the treatment of them,” Bela said, scowling. Confused, you tilt your head at a slight angle, watching her with interest. Am I supposed to know who she’s referring to? My memories of the past couple days are still hazy, you think. “Do… do you remember how you ended up in the dungeon? I know you wanted to speak of happier things, and we can, soon. It’s just… Knowing how you arrived here may help me deal with the consequences of freeing you. Mother will be dreadfully upset that I’ve interrupted a draining, even if we are soulmates.”

“Wait, are you saying…? The intimidating giantess who strung me up and attempted to bleed me dry… is your mother?” You asked, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. This was an unexpected development, for sure.

“You didn’t know?” Bela replied, eyes going wide for a moment. Clearly she wouldn’t have said anything if she realized you weren’t already aware. Suddenly the tension in the room is palpable, with an uncomfortable silence overtaking the two of you. In the moment, you cannot even bring yourself to look at Bela, too stunned by this new knowledge. Eventually she breaks the silence, voice sounding unsure for once. “I realize that this is a lot to take in, if you need time to process it, I… I can go. But you need to understand that our situation is far more complicated than it might appear. We cannot survive without the blood of others- it is what sustains us when nothing else can.”

Now you’re staring at her like she’s crazy, and she’s standing up, moving to the other side of the room. She draws back a curtain, gazing out into the snow covered hills. Every muscle in your body is urging you to run while she’s distracted. Thread of fate be damned, this went far beyond anything you had ever imagined having to deal with. You come so close to ripping the IV right out of your arm. But a gentle tug on your soul string makes you pause, remembering all the times this bond gave you hope in dark times. Had she felt the same way, all these years? What had she gone through, in this absurd castle, on the very edges of civilization? You pull on the red thread, feeling a wave of composure wash over you.

“It appears there is much I need to learn. But is that not the very nature of our connection? We know, simply, that we are bound to each other, though we know not what shapes our souls take so that we might put them together, nor even what roles we must play. I cannot say that I understand your plight, my dear, but I will try, as is my obligation, and my honor,” you said, wishing you could hold her, and cursing your IV. As soon as the first word leaves your mouth, Bela is turning around, watching you with a bittersweet expression. Once you’re done she’s moving closer, as if reading your mind, extending a hand to cup your cheek. Then she leans forward to press a brief kiss to your forehead. “Oh, how I have longed for this- to be with you, to get to know you.”

“As did I,” she murmured. You can’t help but lean into her touch, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. “Perhaps I should introduce you to my family? I imagine you’ll be needing breakfast anyway, and bringing human food back to my quarters would raise more suspicion than I’d like.” Well, the moment couldn’t last forever, could it?

“Only if you promise that your mother won’t suspend me by my wrists again. Or by any other part of me. Shall we simply put suspension off the table altogether?” You asked, half teasing. To be entirely honest, you were equally worried about Bela’s sisters. Well, the people you had heard other prisoners whispering about, who were the daughters of the giantess, and by connecting a few dots were also, presumably, Bela’s sisters. Apparently they preferred to play with their food. Unless, of course, Bela was one of the daughters you had heard about, and would have easily torn into you if not for your connection. Let’s not dwell on that concept, you think, glad to be distracted by your soulmate.

“I will not let anyone harm you anymore, my beloved. My mother would not stand so firmly in the way of my happiness,” Bela reassured, though you detected a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Still, there wasn’t much you could do other than trust her. “Now, let me take care of your bandages, then we’ll head downstairs…”

---------------------------------

“Who the fuck is this?” An unfamiliar voice asked, as you meandered down the corridor, arm around Bela for support. As soon as she hears the person speak, your soulmate is freezing in place, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. When you turn as well, you spot someone dressed almost identically to Bela. However, the woman wears a yellow pendant, as opposed to a red one, and her hair is a dark brown. It feels safe to assume that she’s one of the sisters you’ve heard about. Which understandably makes you nervous, to the point where you almost want to hide behind Bela. Instead, you stand tall, attempting to seem unfazed by either her presence or her vulgarity.

“Mind your manners, Cassandra,” Bela hissed, taking more of an aggressive stance than you had anticipated. “This, dear sister, is my soulmate. And if you even think about harming them, or getting in our way, I will tear you apart.” While you’re downright shocked at the intensity of Bela’s statement, her sister doesn’t look at all impressed, and eyes you with minimal interest. Better than looking at you with hatred, right? Apparently not, as Bela moves to stand between the two of you, eyes narrowed. There’s a clear stiffness in her posture that leaves you anxious. Cassandra seems to notice it as well, and laughs, before taking a few steps in your direction. Then your soulmate mimics the movement, forcing you to do so as well.

“They’re human,” Cassandra snapped, pausing to sniff the air and scowl. “Here I thought your soulmate would have to be special, if they’re to compare to your ego. You’re disappointed, aren’t you? Having to settle for this.” With that she shifts, flesh writhing, making your stomach churn as you watch her disintegrate into a cloud of… flies? What the hell is wrong with this family? Can Bela do that too? I hope not, you think. Soon you’re pulled from your thoughts, however, as the swarm circles around you, single insects occasionally surging forward to cut at your skin. But Bela is grabbing you by the sleeve and tugging you to her chest, moving against a wall so that her body shielded your own. Your eyes clamp shut as you shake in her arms. When the buzzing stops, it is quickly replaced with cruel laughter. “That fragile, hmm? I can’t wait to see what mother thinks. See you at breakfast, sister!”

Then the two of you are alone, still pressed against the wall, staying still until the sound of footsteps fade. You’re stunned, unsure of how to react. The fact that a few drops of blood roll down your cheek only makes things worse. Still, Bela managed to prevent you from getting too hurt, and the few wounds on your body are negligible. Ever filled with gratitude, you hold her close as you try to stutter out a few sentences.

“Is she always this hostile, or am I truly not what you had expected? No, pay me no mind, it hardly matters. Thank you for protecting me,” you whispered. In response, Bela gives you a little squeeze, then pulls back enough to wipe the blood from your face. There’s a hint of something odd in her expression, which you interpret to be related to her apparent ‘need for blood’. Thankfully, she is in perfect control, and does not frenzy the same way you had read about fictional vampires doing. But she does hesitate, words dying on her tongue, like there are a thousand things she wants to say, and no words to say them with. “It’s alright, my dear. Let’s just go to breakfast, like we planned, and hope your sister behaves better when supervised.”

Bela nods, quickly, before taking your hand in her own. Whatever awaited you in the dining room, the two of you would be ready. Hopefully.

[solaeter]

Confession - Megumi Fushiguro

I’m dealing with a doubt spell so writing is kinda hard, but I’ll get past it sooner or later :’) Word Count: 1,670

Warning[s]: None aside from possible errors I didn’t bother to look for. 

Mutual pining felt like a blessing and a curse. On one hand, feelings were shared without the worry of denial.

On the other hand..

Neither party could take the initiative to admit these said feelings. 

Everyone and their mother could tell that [Name] and Megumi had some serious feelings for one another. You were the only one outside of Nobara and Itadori that he'd hang out with. Hell, he knew you longer than he knew them and tried his best to avoid having you meet them.

Cause as soon as it happened, the bombardment of questions rang through the air. Itadori and Nobara lingered dangerously close, inspecting you and Megumi.

"Since when does Fushiguro have a girlfriend?" Nobara questioned, squinting at you. Her gaze made you shift and her words had your cheeks burning. 

"We're not–"

"Lemme guess," Itadori cut you off and Megumi sighs, "This little lady is the only one who can make the great Fushiguro crumble! Am I right??" He asked, knuckle bumping Nobara once they seen the obvious blush spread across your face and Megumi's.

Now you see why he tried to avoid this meeting, even after you questioned why. They were like pesky little rats, itching for information that wasn't their business. But you couldn't blame them, at least they cared.

"We're not dating. She's just a friend." Megumi mumbled, clearly irritated, if not embarrassed. Deep down he wanted to admit that you meant something more to him. God he loved you, but actually coming forth with that confession felt more difficult than any task he's been assigned to. 

You on the other hand, also wanted to profess your long harbored feelings. Ever since you met Megumi in middle school, you always found him pretty. Especially when he beat up the bullies, goodness it made your heart flutter.

"What he said. We've been friends since middle school." You chirped, offering a smile to the two observers. Nobara crossed her arms. She's watched plenty of romantic dramas, comedies and all the works to know that you and Megumi were hard-core pining. 

"I don't know," She starts, walking around the two of you, "There's something more. Something neither one of you can admit. Don't you agree dumbo?" She looked back at Itadori who blinked at the sudden nickname.

"Yes?" He tilted his head and when she shot him a look that meant death, he nodded quickly. "Yes! Absolutely! I think you two need to have a serious chat." 

Megumi pinched the bridge of his nose. He could only handle so much of these two even though he knew they were right. You also knew what they said was right. But how? How can one admit feelings? Especially if it ruins the friendship? You'd be devastated. 

But for now, you both needed an exit. You pull out your phone and glance at it. Maybe you had an idea. 

"I left something back in my locker that I need for tonight. Wanna join me?" You elbow Megumi, who looks at you as if you were a saint. He nods, grabs your arm and drags you away while ignoring the two behind you. 

"Sorry about those two, they're...something." Megumi decided to be polite instead of rude, after all they did care about him. You hook your arm through his and smile.

"It's fine, you three have interesting chemistry. I think they're good for you since I can't be around all the time." You didn't like that Megumi had to attend a school for his powers, but you were also happy for him. The selfish side of you wanted to keep him to yourself, just like it had been for years. 

"You think so?" 

"Yep, you just gotta open up a little when you're ready. Let them see what makes you so amazing." You gush and Megumi looks away, the praise causing his cheeks to tint with a shade of pink. 

The two of you walk in peaceful silence, arm in arm until you both reach the school gates. Luckily they didn't lock up for another hour, but you didn't really need anything. Megumi wasn't stupid, he knew it was nothing more than an excuse, yet you made the trip here anyways. 

"So.." You break the silence and separate from Megumi, who watched you move in front of him, your school bag hitting the ground with a thud. "Can we uh..talk about something?" 

Megumi felt his stomach lurch and the contents of his lunch threatened to come up. Usually when someone wanted to talk, it could be good or bad. Considering his luck, Megumi only assumed it had to be bad. Yet he remained composed and simply nodded, choosing not to talk in case he faltered. 

"I really don't know how to uh..bring this up." You fiddled with your hands, avoiding Megumi's worried gaze and kicked a random rock into the street. The looming silence that followed felt heavy and nearly made him lose his mind. 

"Bring what up?" He urged quietly, crossing his arms just to keep himself busy for less than a second. His mind reeled and he didn't even consider the possibility of a confession, well at least from you. He's been trying to think of ways to bring it up without looking like an idiot, but he draws blanks after his head says he won't ever get out of the dreaded friend zone. 

"Um..we've been friends for so long. I know everything about you and you about me. I just..after some time I think I might–" 

You're cut off by Megumi grabbing your face, his hands were cool to your warm cheeks and his eyebrows were furrowed as he took a deep breath.

"I love you [Name]." He was straight to the point which threw you for a loop. Your mouth dropped and then closed quickly. The little shit took the words right from you. Granted you were prolonging the confession but you were getting there! 

When you don't answer immediately, Megumi mumbles a quick apology and backs away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

"No, no don't confess and back away!" You pull him back toward you, hugging him once you two collide. His arms wrap instinctively around your figure, even though he was slightly hesitant. He felt like he was treading on glass while you were stupidly over the moon.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." You say shyly, resting your head against his chest. His heart quickly thumped in your ear, much like how yours did the same. 

Megumi's world shifted or so he thought. All his fears towards his feelings vanished and it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. You shared the same feelings and of course he should have seen it. Others called you both out, especially the two idiots who hounded earlier. Was he really that blind? Or stupidly oblivious? 

Either way, he didn't know what to do now.  

"So we felt the same all this time." Megumi says more to himself and you look up at him. When your eyes meet, he takes a moment to admire your pretty orbs. This was his first time being able to actually look at you without having to sneak glances or be called weird for staring. His cheeks warmed once again and you smiled.

"I guess so. Leave it to us to rely on your pesky friends to actually break the silence." You giggle, adjusting so that your arms wrap around Megumi's neck. He bends to match your height, coming face to face.

The air would usually turn awkward but this time, you both silently stare until you look away with a tiny smile tugging at your lips. 

"What?" Megumi questioned. He didn't know the first thing about romance. Or even women for that matter. But he knew you, like a book. Except at this moment, he felt clueless. His mind ran in circles, leaving him a happy mess inside his head. 

"Oh nothing." You bite the inside of your cheek. His gaze made you squirm and heat shift from your cheeks to your ears as well. Why did it feel so different?? Yet so welcome? "You're just really pretty okay? And I finally get to say it without being looked at funny." You pout, glancing at Megumi who blinks. 

"I– So are you." He responds calmly despite every nerve in his body screaming. You turn your head back toward him and act before you can think by pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.

Megumi freezes, eyes wide and alert when your soft lips meet his. Though he quickly closes his eyes and keeps you close by cupping your cheek. He didn't think, his body acted on its own and boy did it feel nice. He didn't think he'd ever experience something like this. Something so normal and innocent in his dangerous life. 

When you both pull back, neither one of you can look at one another. Instead you pick up your school bag and drape it over your shoulder. Megumi rubs the back of his neck, fully prepared to face some type of scolding. But it never comes when you take his hand.

"Whenever you're not busy being a badass sorcerer, maybe we can go out or something?" You ask, lacing your fingers through his. Megumi looks down at your intertwined hands before glancing at you. 

"Yeah." He didn't hesitate to answer and started to pull you toward the direction that led home. You hum delightfully and let him lead you without another word.

Did you imagine your confession would happen the way it did? You couldn't say, but you could admit to the hopeless daydreams of romantic scenarios playing out in the most cliché manner. You were swept off your feet by the marvelous, perfect man, yet none of those silly dreams stood a chance at how perfect everything played out with Megumi.

Even if it took two so called idiots to set it in motion. 

[e-milieeee]

the enemy of my enemy (must be my ally)

Summary: When one of his akumas attacks Adrien and one of his classmates, Gabriel Agreste discovers that Marinette Dupain-Cheng would prove a very useful ally against Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

How had he not discovered sooner? But oh well—better late than never. Ladybug will never know what’s coming. 

Notes: from this post because everyone wanted me to write it. i warned y’all. feat. gabriel’s 2 functional brain cells. 

AO3 | Kofi

Gabriel Agreste isn’t past admitting his mistakes.

Most of them have involved Adrien, so he supposes that it’s time to pay attention to the trend. And all of those mistakes have involved his growing career as Hawkmoth—and, more specifically, the choices he makes for whom he akumatizes.

Lila Rossi, now known as Princess Perfect—seriously, what the hell was wrong with this girl? He’d given her the liberty of choosing her akuma name, but such a godawful name is a bad reflection on him as well—kicks down the door of the classroom.

He sees it all through Lila’s eyes, like he does with all the akumas. Doesn’t mean he’s particularly happy about the turnout of this particular akumatization.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel demands to her. “I want Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous! You’re going the wrong way.”

Relax. Lila’s voice drifts into his head. I need to take a little detour.

“What detour—” Oh. Oh, shit.

In the classroom, packing their bags, is his son and that Chinese girl with pigtails—Marinette. The one that Gabriel knows Lila Rossi intensely hates. The one that he doesn’t like either, because for some reason, his son is infatuated with her. It’s Marinette-this, Marinette-that these days, and Adrien just won’t stop gushing about her. Father, look at these designs! They’re Marinette’s. Father, look who’s on the news—it’s Marinette! Father, can you hire Marinette to work at Gabriel Brand?

Marinette, a real headache. Gabriel rubs his temples. Maybe it’s a good thing that Lila’s after her. Better to nip it in the bud before Adrien’s attachment becomes a real problem.

“Fine,” he grounds out to Lila. “But leave Ad—leave the blonde boy alone.”

Already ahead of you, Hawkie.

“Don’t call me that!”

She ignores him in favour of turning to the two victims. Adrien is standing in front of Marinette, arms spread in a protective stance, glaring at the akuma. For a couple moments, nobody speaks.

Then, Marinette, eyebrows furrowing, says, “You’re Lila, aren’t you. Seriously? What is this—your third akumatization? Fourth?”

“My name is Princess Perfect now,” Lila growls back. “Get out of my way, Adrien.”

Marinette literally gags. “Did Hawkmoth choose that name for you?”

“No, I didn’t,” Gabriel seethes. Unfortunately, none of them can hear him.

“Yes, he did,” Lila lies breezily. “But that’s not important. You think you’re such a hot shot, Marinette? You think you can take the spotlight from me without repercussions? I’m going to make sure everyone hates you and loves me, and you’ll learn your lesson for trying to cross me. After all, who can say no to Princess Perfect?”

Gabriel sighs through his nose. Are all teens this dramatic?

Apparently, they are. Betrayal comes from those closest to home, because it’s Adrien that holds up his arms even higher, still staring Lila down. “You’re going to have to go through me if you want to hurt her,” he promises. “Marinette, get out of here! Run!”

Oh, for heaven’s sake—

Two things happen at once. Lila darts towards them, her whip lashing out directly at Adrien. Gabriel swears under his breath—why isn’t Adrien moving out of the way? Why is he so intent on protecting that useless girl? “Lila!” he barks through the bond, but the akumatized girl is too far gone. “Touch him and I’ll make sure—”

Gabriel trails into dumbfounded silence when Marinette shoves Adrien aside, grabs the end of Lila’s whip, and tugs the weapon straight out of the girl’s hands.

“You’ve gone too far,” she growls in a tone so chilly that it even reaches him. “Adrien, get out of here! I can handle her.”

Lila’s own shock lasts for a couple of times before she regains some of her composure. “You?” she sneers. “Handle me? Why, you pathetic—”

Adrien chucks a pencil case at Lila. It hits her cheek, and she whirls on him, enraged. At the same time, Marinette darts away from the window and slides behind the large wooden desk at the front. Gabriel, still watching the scene unfold, scoffs. So for all her big talk, she’s still nothing but a coward.

“Stand down,” he commands Lila once more. “Don’t you dare touch Adrien—what the hell?”

Lila seems to have noticed the source of his bewilderment as well, but it’s far too late. From underneath the desk, Marinette has lifted the thing—the giant, wooden desk—onto her shoulders.

Gabriel’s positive he stops breathing.

“Wait—” Lila begins. He sees it all through her eyes: Marinette braces herself for a moment and then throws it—throws the desk that a grown man shouldn’t be able to lift—right at Lila.

She doesn’t stand a chance. Lila goes down in a crash, pinned under the weight of Ms. Bustier’s desk that this small, petite girl had somehow bench-pressed and then chucked.

As much as Lila struggles, she is unable to remove the desk from on top of her. Given that his akumas have enhanced strength and she’s still incapable of lifting it, just how strong is Marinette?

Said girl in question stalks over to Lila. She plants a foot firmly against the overturned side of the desk and looks down at the girl trapped underneath.

Gabriel is certain that somehow, impossible as it sounds, Marinette is staring right through Lila’s eyes, through their connection, and into his own. His body freezes. His jaw locks. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Gabriel Agreste is absolutely terrified.

“Next time you try something like this,” Marinette growls, leaning in, “I won’t let you off so easily.”

With that ominous note, she snatches the necklace off Lila’s neck and marches right out of the classroom.

Gabriel remains frozen for a couple more moments. He isn’t certain if he still remembers how to breathe.

It wasn’t Ladybug nor Chat Noir that had foiled this plan. No, it was Adrien Agreste’s classmate, a girl who had previously annoyed him, that had single handedly defeated an akuma and scared him absolutely shitless.

What. The. Fuck.

***

“Adrien,” Gabriel says over dinner. “You know that girl you always talk about? Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

His son looks up from his meal with a bright look on his face. Once upon a time, Gabriel would’ve been annoyed. Now, after reevaluating the girl, he comes to the conclusion that it’s best Adrien stays on Marinette’s good side. She’s probably more than capable of beating his son up.

“Yeah, Marinette?” Adrien echoes. “You know how there was an akuma attack today? Well, Marinette was actually there in the classroom with me when the akuma came for us.”

Gabriel is forced to play ignorant. “Oh? What happened?”

“Well, the akuma tried to attack us, and Marinette picked up a desk—you might find it hard to believe, and honestly I would’ve too if I hadn’t seen her do it—and threw it at the akuma. When Ladybug and Chat Noir finally showed up, there wasn’t even anything for them to do.”

Gabriel shifts in his seat. “That is… rather unbelievable."

Except he swears he can still feel the heat of Marinette’s glare, and is forced to accept that this is the reality he’s living in.

“Why did you ask about her, though, father?”

He snaps back into the present. “Huh?”

“Marinette—why did you ask about her? Wait, father, are you reconsidering hiring her? Did you finally look at the designs I sent you? This is amazing. I’m sure she’ll do amazing. Your stocks will rise. You’ll get more customers. Marinette’s basically a walking lucky charm—this will be the best decision you’ve ever made, father. I promise.”

He frowns at Adrien. “Don’t make preposterous suggestions. But yes— I am considering giving Marinette Dupain-Cheng a job at the company, perhaps an internship one of the senior designers. She’s very… talented.”

He thinks of the way she’d lifted the desk and flung it at Lila. Talented, indeed.

Perhaps talented enough to finally give him an edge against Ladybug and Chat Noir.

***

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than eager to come in for a so-called interview. Nathalie has done her digging on the girl: she’s made it pretty big quite a couple times already, in the fashion industry and has quite a few connections. Even if Gabriel’s motivations aren’t technically for the company, he has to admit that she has much future potential to tap into in the future. But for now, that’s not his goal.

She’s impeccably dressed when Nathalie leads her inside his study. Her eyes are positively shining when she beams at Gabriel. “Mr. Agreste!” Marinette chirps. “I’m so happy to be here. When Adrien told me you wanted to interview me for the job…this is such an amazing opportunity to be presented with, and I am so honoured.”

Gabriel exchanges a glance with Nathalie. She nods subtly.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” He rises from his desk and holds out his hand for her to shake. She does so.

It takes all of Gabriel’s self-control not to show the pain on his face when she grips his hand.

How the fuck is this girl so strong?

Thankfully, Marinette doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong. Gabriel draws back his hand and tucks it behind his back. It’s throbbing.

“So, Marinette.” He sits back down at his desk. Marinette is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. If she were any normal person, Gabriel might’ve snapped at her to settle down, but after that show with Lila yesterday, he decides that it’s for his own good not to get on her bad side. He’ll just have to channel all his patience—for self-preservation, really. “I understand that you’re interested in interning at my company?”

She nods excitedly. “I’ve been designing for years, Mr. Agreste—I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on—”

“What I have in mind for you—” Gabriel pauses, realizing that he’d interrupted her. Hurriedly, he gulps. “Never mind. Continue.”

“I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on but I’m a very quick learner! I promise I’ll do my very best to help you and your company.”

He nods. “That’s good to hear. For now, I’ll… I’ll arrange with Nathalie what we can assign you to do in the company. And I have another favour to ask of you, if it’s not too much.”

Marinette smiles. “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to help you!”

Nathalie had warned him to be careful with Marinette—one wrong move and he could be ousted as Hawkmoth. He takes a deep breath. “I have become aware that there are some bad influences around my son in school. You are friends with Adrien, yes?”

“Yes, and… bad influences?” Marinette frowns, shifting her weight. “Oh, yeah, there’s one in particular. Actually, I’m not sure if you’re aware, Mr. Agreste, but I’m glad you brought it up. You know that akuma yesterday? That girl’s name was Lila Rossi. She’s been hanging around Adrien quite a bit these days, and ‘bad influence’ barely covers what she does. And—oh! When I confronted her once about making Adrien uncomfortable, she told me she had a ‘friend in a high place’ that was backing her up. I think you might want to look into that too, Mr. Agreste. It was pretty worrisome, to be honest.”

Gabriel’s mouth has gone dry. “I… yes. Yes, I shall look into that too.”

Marinette rolls her shoulders. “God, if I knew who they were, I’d throw them into the Seine. How dare they.” Then her eyes widen. “Sorry, Mr. Agreste! I was just… um, I was just talking to myself. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Gabriel reassures immediately, although it doesn’t do much to ease the chill that is travelling up his spine. “Then it’s decided? Nathalie will give you her contact information—you can send her your resume just for formalities, and she will organize the rest. And… be sure to keep an eye on my son at school.”

“I will!” Marinette chirps, ever so chipper. Behind that attitude lies the strength to lift the desk he’s currently sitting and crush him. And much, much more.

Nathalie guides the girl away. Gabriel is unable to breathe fully until she leaves.

He has to calculate this well, because he can’t afford to lose a potential ally like Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He’s already thinking—perhaps she would do well with the Peacock Miraculous, or the Bee Miraculous, if he can get his hands on it again. If—if he can somehow convince Marinette to help him with his cause, all of his other plans don’t even need to go into action. Ladybug and Chat Noir will never see this coming.

Nathalie returns. “Sir, your face is rather pale,” she notes. “But may I ask what that was about? You were… unusually lenient today.”

Gabriel clears his throat and straightens in his seat. “Never mind me,” he dismisses. “But first, I need to contact Lila Rossi as soon as possible to cut off all ties. Let her know she’s fired.”

“Is this because…?”

He allows himself a small smile. “You’ll see soon, Nathalie,” he reassures. “We’ve finally got the upperhand in this fight.”

Notes: i lost brain cells writing it, and i’m sure y’all have lost brain cells reading it. 

Fics masterlist here! 

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 8]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“reality may be better than a dream“

He isn’t sure when he woke back up or how long it had been since he fell asleep, but his cheek is squished up against something and he is in a horizontal position. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, realizing he is staring past the edge of a pair of tanned legs decorated with thin black lines of fishnets which are also digging into his cheek. His eyes widen, lips parting a tiny bit when he realizes he’d tipped over in his sleep, laying his head on Cora’s hip. His hand had slid from her cheek and curled against the back of her neck, cradling her head in his palm. He swallows hard, unsure if he should move and risk waking her up or stand as still as he possibly can. On one hand, he doesn’t want her thinking he willingly invaded her personal space, but then again she’s bound to find out, seeing as how moving would result in waking her up and if he remained in his current position, she’s still gonna wake up sooner or later and find him awkwardly looking at her, silently praying she doesn’t lose her cool at him.

What is a guy to do?

Her arms are still wrapped snugly around his thigh, sleeping peacefully in the dark room illuminated only by the Netflix menu. 

It must be later than I thought, he thinks to himself as he stretches his free leg out to his phone, tapping the screen with his sock covered toe to discover it’s 6:48pm. Jesus, we’ve slept for almost two hours. 

The sun is still glowing but is now significantly lower in the sky, indicating they’d have a little bit of daylight left but it would be quick to slip past them if Cora doesn’t wake up anytime soon. What if she wanted to leave before it got dark? I should probably wake her up, no? I mean, there’s also the possibility that she didn’t and I’d just be disturbing her for no reason and I of course don’t want that….Ugh, fuck, why is something this simple so complicated?!

Doing his best not to jostle her, Corpse carefully pushes himself up using his hands which he’s propped up on the back of the couch. Once upright, he carefully eases his hand out from under her head and brushes a few stray dark locks away from her face where they had formed a curtain over her closed eyes. His voice cracks as he tries to speak so it comes out more as an unsure murmur. 

“Cora. Hey, come on, wake up.” He whispers, trying to be gentle as he nudges her shoulder. 

She lets out a soft distressed noise at the fact that someone dared to interrupt her sleep. Her arms tighten around his leg and she rubbed her cheek into his thigh, indicating that he’s not going anywhere with this mellowness, 

“Mmm...five more minutes…” she mutters, making his cheeks burn as she snuggles up even tighter into him.  

With a defeated sigh he leans back, fixating his gaze on the TV and smiles a tiny bit, feeling that by now familiar, warm sensation in his chest and stomach - the one he feels whenever he takes her hand or gets a text from her. “Alright, five minutes.” He settles, leaning back further on the couch, unlocking his phone, beginning to browse Instagram quietly and then checking his email afterwards. 

He soon finds he’s lost track of time but eventually it definitely starts feeling like more than five minutes have passed, and so Corpse decides to take some action. Bowing his head down, he shakes her shoulder again. “Alright, come on, Sleeping Beauty, it's time to get up. I’m hungry and I gotta pee and I’m done with being held hostage.”

Her head tips slightly to the side, eyes still closed as she turns to face the ceiling. A sly little smirk dances on her lips before it falls when she goes back to pretending to be consumed by her blissful slumber. Her voice arises from her throat as a playful whisper, 

“Something-something can only be awoken with the kiss of a strong knight.” 

Corpse feels his stomach do a backflip and his face starts burning as the color of his cheeks, ears and neck switches to a bright shade of red, eyes growing wide when he registers what she just said. “I’m...um-...” He stutters, his throat suddenly dry and coarse as sandpaper.

Cora opens one eye just a slit, spotting his frantic blushing before closing it again. “Or even just a dude lost in the woods if the knight is unavailable.”

He swallowed again, desperately trying to fish out any words and let them leave his mouth. Despite his attempts to calm himself down, his hands go clammy and his heart has taken to hitting the inside of his ribcage with the intensity of an angry dragon, threatening to break through and leave his body. 

She isn’t really suggesting this, right? It’s a joke, it has to be. Haha, make Corpse look like a dumbass, won’t that be hilarious.

Interrupting his thoughts, one of her hands squeezes the back of his knee while the other comes up to link her pinky finger with his own. He stares down at her, flustered as all hell, catching that one eye open again. His face is the epitome of questioning, puzzled and….hopeful? He can’t afford to be getting hopeful, not when there’s still the option that she’s messing with him. That’s why he has to know. His eyes are begging her to tell him what’s going on here or if there’s anything going on at all. He wants her to either break this magic or carry it out completely to where it’s enveloped and surrounded them both. He wants something, anything, even the tiniest signal from her, just to put his mind at ease and his racing heart to rest.

His breath hitches when Cora slides her hand out from under his leg. Defeat spreads throughout his chest like a wildfire when he thinks she’s about to pull away. 

I knew it! I knew she’s just fucking around, she’d never w-!

His brain stops firing neurons of panic when he feels a hand rest on the back of his neck and he suddenly realizes he’s being pulled down slightly, the figure across his lap raising to connect their lips halfway. 

He freezes, eyes wide and nearly watering in panic at the sudden contact that he was far from prepared for. However, Cora wouldn’t be Cora if she just let him sit there and panic so she immediately reacts, squeezing his hand so that his instincts would kick in. When they finally do, his hand comes up to gently cup her face, allowing himself to melt into the kiss. He kisses her slowly, savoring the feeling of her lips against his - warm and soft against his chapped ones. His thumb brushes slowly across her cheekbone, subconsciously memorizing every spot and tiny line etched into her skin. 

She’s the first to pull back but they don’t stay apart for long seeing as how she’s quick to sit up higher and press her lips back against his, hand cradling his head as both their bodies buzz with heat. His arm automatically wraps around her torso, the palm of his hand resting on her back to keep her close, deepening the kiss.

His chest is aching with happiness, eyes brimmed with tears of joy and relief he hopes won’t spill for her to see. He just can’t help himself, it all feels so overwhelming and surreal. The feeling that he’s had living within him since their lunch date has finally fallen into place. It finally makes sense and he can finally be at peace with it. That’s the biggest relief he’s felt in a long while. She’s his check point, his safe haven and his relief. She’s become so much to him in such a short amount of time. It goes without saying she’s incredibly special.

He draws back after a moment and inhales shakily, his whole body shaking in shock. 

“Holy shit.” He whispers, eyes wide as he carefully moves his hands away from her face. 

Cora’s cheeks are pink as she smiles faintly and nods in agreement. “Sorry...I hope that was okay.” She mumbles, looking away shyly but not for long. Corpse tilts her head, turning it to face him once again as he leans in to press his lips firmly against hers, eyes closing slowly yet again. She brings her body closer to his and Corpse could swear he felt the Earth stop spinning. The rest of the world has stopped existing. Nothing matters but this moment, right now. This kiss shared between them, this contact between them, addictive like a drug.

They spend a few minutes just kissing slowly, enjoying every second of it, savoring it with a small fear they might never repeat this though they really hope they do. 

He alternates between cupping her cheek and neck to holding her hands. The whole experience is just so warm and deep and meaningful, but tame at the same time. They don’t dissolve into a frantic mess, they kept their pace, moving in sync, reminding each other that this is not a dream. This is better than any dream could ever be.

He breaks away first, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest. “Do-...do you need to go home?” He blurts out softly, fingers laced with hers, the question so out of place for the setting.

“Oh, is my kissing so bad you want to kick me out?” She asks with a smile so small but so bright it warms him internally. 

He laughs a deep breathy laugh, looking at her with affection. He can't help it, he’s intoxicated by her. Before, it would have been a totally different experience for him: frantic backpedaling on what he’d said but something feels...good with her here. It feels so right and it keeps him grounded in the current moment, refusing to allow him running the conversation and events back in his head.

“No, you’re perfect…” he admits softly, a little anxious with those words but accepting them as truth because that’s what they are. “I just thought….”

“Is that what that burning smell is?” She teases again, perhaps hiding her own nervousness behind jokes, before she kisses him softly. 

“I thought, if you wanted to stay the night....I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” He manages to say, pulling away from her briefly, the backs of his fingers drawing a soft line across her cheek. He pulls away further suddenly, realizing that may be a bit too romantic. They just kissed, and still haven’t spent such a big amount of time together. With these thoughts in mind, he hurries to add: “If not, it’s okay…”

She’s quick to shake her head, dismissing his worries, “I want to stay, but you’re not sleeping on the couch. What, are you afraid I’ll give you cooties?” She teases, squeezing his hands and leaning in to affectionately headbutt his shoulder. 

He smiled and winds his arms around her in a tight hug, releasing her when she pulls away. “Alright, but I’m hungry, and I still need to piss.” He declares, standing up and stretching to loosen and relax his stiff joints, starting to make his way to the bathroom. “Think about what you want for dinner!”

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen

[the-irish-mayhem]

I don’t know if there are AU fics there about Thor meeting Jane in Asgard instead of his mom in Endgame but... could you write if there are none? Love your writing style btw

I started this in quarantine last April, and here I am a year later finishing it. ANGST AHOY. (and thank youuuuuuuu!)

She’s more beautiful than he remembered. He sees her from behind at first, her small frame swathed in a simple, blue wrap gown. She’s folding her clothes from Midgard, hands deft. She misses Rocket darting behind the small lounge, syringe in hand. 

Thor steps fully into the room, and she must hear him. She calls out, “No, I don’t need any help with my clothing, but thank you for the offer.”

He can’t immediately speak. He means to say something, he... he must’ve had a plan before Rocket shoved him through this doorway? Surely, he’d thought of something clever and suave and charming, something that he would’ve said to her when they’d been together and he could make her laugh. Something he would’ve said before--

Before.

Then she turns and--Norns, she is beautiful.

“Oh, Thor,” she says, and then she smiles. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

His tongue feels thick in his mouth. “Y-you-you, uh--” He swallows and tries again. “You don’t have to apologize. For anything. Ever.”

Her brow furrows. “Hey, are you okay?” She’d always known him so well, hadn’t she? And he’d just--allowed her to slip away. Over two years of living together, years of loving and being loved, and he’d just--

“Thor, what’s wrong?” The sheer concern in her voice as she sets her folded clothing down makes his knees feel weak. Then she’s walking towards him and he doesn’t feel prepared for this moment at all.

Norns, he’d made such a mess of everything, and then he’d never gotten a chance to fix it.

She seems to realize at that moment that he’s not the Thor she knows, and she freezes halfway to him. There’s a small, needy part of him that wants to reach out to her, just feel her touch one more time to remind him of a time before his failure so catastrophically rocked the universe.

The other part, that knows he is on a mission and needs to do this in order to succeed, tries to come up with an excuse or a plan. He had one before he walked in, certainly.

“You--” Jane draws back, adopting a tentative, novice defensive stance, “--are not Thor.”

That’s an easy enough answer. “Well, yes, yes I am.”

Her eyes narrow. “Mm, no. Last I saw him, Thor’s beard was shorter. His hair wasn’t, uh--” She glances at the top of his head, “--that. One of your eyes is brown.” She looks down at him. “If you’re Thor, then where’s your armor?”

“Um. Not. On?”

“Yeah, consider me unconvinced. If you’re Thor,” a clever smile dawns on her face, like she’s just solved a long series of complex equations, “then call Mjolnir.”

“Oh.” He’d somehow forgotten that at this time, he still had Mjolnir. He still had his honor, his courage, his--

He’d been worthy, at this time.

“Jane, that’s--I just--” Thor sees Rocket moving behind her, his arm cocked back and ready to take the infinity stone that flows through her veins. “Rocket, wait!”

Jane’s eyes widen, and she whirls around and screams, “What the fuck is that?”

“Thor, come on!” Rocket exclaims.

“Jane,” he says again, “Please just trust me. We need your help.”

She backs away slowly, trying to keep both Thor and Rocket, with his arm still poised to stab, in her sights.

“That’s a talking raccoon,” she breathes. “I’m talking to a raccoon on an alien planet.”

Rocket protests, but Thor cuts him off. “Jane, please.”

“We need to borrow the Aether for like two seconds,” Rocket says. “The fate of the universe kind of depends on it.”

“Someone better explain to me what the hell is going on and fast,” she says, voice raising to nearly a shout, “or you will not like what happens!”

Thor notices the molecular red and black swirling at her fingertips and in her eyes. If she stays this stressed, she’s liable to explode on them. That might knock her unconscious, and while that might make their task in stealing the Aether from her easier, but he can’t stomach the thought of doing that to her.

“Jane, listen to me,” he says, voice soft, falling back into a familiar pattern of calming her down when she’s upset. “I am Thor, but... not the one you know.” He desperately wants to reach out to her, as was his way when they were together, but he holds himself back. “I promise I am not deceiving you. I know that you cannot carry a tune when you sing in the shower, but you do it anyway. You graduated summa cum laude from Culver and got your first doctorate before you were twenty-two, and you always wondered if you should’ve slowed down to enjoy university life more. You always chew the end of your pen or pencil when you’re working. We had dinner with your mother every other weekend--” He winces a little at that mention. "That--um. I guess that hasn’t... happened yet.”

He sees wheels turning behind her eyes, and there’s something easy here between them, a familiar thread of trust that feels all too good for Thor to pick up again. Her brow furrows slightly as her incredible mind works, and her bottom lip ends up between her teeth.

“You’re saying this is time travel,” she says, matter-of-fact. Like she’s positing a hypothesis with Tony or Darcy in the lab.

He’s missed this. He’s missed her. Norns, has he missed her.

“Oh my god,” Jane breathes, “Time travel.” A massive grin spreads across her face. “It’s possible; I knew it!” Her eyes are alight and Thor is struck with another stab of longing. She’s standing right in front of her and yet he misses her so fiercely. “Tell me everything. How did I do it? I’ve only got some rough schematics drawn up of a wormhole generator, but I bet that’s how it was done. Ha!” She pumps a fist in a small victory motion.

“We’re wasting time, here, loverboy,” Rocket interrupts, his small claws wrapped a little too eagerly around the syringe meant to transport the stone.

“Rocket, shut up,” Thor growls.

She steps closer to him, her eagerness for knowledge shining from her face like a light. “How’d we compensate for the energy? Ooh, and how are you planning on returning to your timeline? Do you have some sort of recall device? How is that powered? Or is it like a yo-yo type of device which sends you for a certain amount of time and then calls you back automatically? That would make sense for why your raccoon friend is in such a hurry.” Her eyes widen a little. “That seems like something I’d do. It would probably be beyond the scope of our capabilities to make a power cell small enough to carry on your person, depending on when you guys came from--”

It comes out of him like pus from lancing an infected wound: “You didn’t do it.”

It breaks his heart a little bit to see her imagination come to a grinding halt, to see the shock and disappointment flood across her features. “I... I didn’t?”

Tears prickle at the back of his eyes. “No. You... no.”

“Oh,” she breathes. He can see her visibly shrink, shoulders caving in and her previous exuberance extinguishing like a snuffed candle.

His chest hurts. He wants to hold her.

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracks.

“Oh,” she says again, a different note to it this time. “Am I, um... you know. Dead?”

It feels like a punch to the stomach to hear her say it. He can’t voice it out loud. He’d seen her name on the list of known Avengers asset casualties. Her name was chiseled into stone on the Lost Monument in London. He’d only visited in a fit of drunken self-flagellation one time, and once had been more than enough.

Apparently he doesn’t need to say it. Even without years together under her belt, he’s never been particularly subtle nor she particularly obtuse.

“I see,” is all she says, her arms crossing over her chest, one hand coming up to her chin. Her thumb taps her lower lip once. Twice. “How did I die? Old age?” She winces a little. “Something sooner than that?”

Thor’s tongue sits thick in his mouth.

“A bad guy snapped his fingers and killed half the universe,” Rocket says, impatient with Thor’s inability to communicate. “You were part of the unlucky half.”

Jane’s eyes widen. “Snapped... his fingers.”

“Yes,” Rocket grits, “and if we don’t borrow the Aether we won’t be able to bring any of those people back, so if you don’t mind--”

She’s already offering her arm before he finishes his sentence. “Take it. It’s killing me anyway, although--” Jane lets out a harsh chuckle, “--if you’re from a future where I’m killed by a finger-snapping psycho-killer, then I guess I won’t die from this, at least.”

Rocket smiles at Jane and then sends a seething look Thor’s way. “See, Thor, how efficient a little cooperation can make things?”

For how much they struggled with fixing Jane’s Aether affliction in this timeline, it’s almost trivially easy for Rocket to jab the needle into Jane and take the stone. The syringe is specially crafted to draw in and store this particularly finicky stone, but it goes off without a hitch, and when Rocket withdraws the needle, Jane simply covers her now bleeding arm with a hand.

Rocket thanks her, the caustic raccoon strangely polite now that he’s realized what kind of person Jane is, and turns to Thor.

“Time to jet, big boy,” he says.

“Wait,” Thor says, impulse overriding any other judgements, “give me a moment.”

Rocket sighs, and glancing between Jane and Thor, he seems to understand. Given the chance, Thor knows Rocket would want to talk to his family that he lost. Thankfully, it looks like he will afford Thor the same courtesy.

“A moment,” Rocket echoes, a not-so-subtle reminder that they cannot stay here in the safety of the past when they have a job to do. A universe to save. People to bring back.

Rocket exits the room, leaving Thor and Jane alone.

“Do you, um.” Jane’s hands scrunch up the skirt of her dress before she gestures at the couch. “Want to sit?”

As he sits down, Jane follows next to him, so close and warm, he realizes belatedly that he has been dying to talk to someone who loves him. Desperate to talk to someone who knows him on a deeper level than his friends on Earth and New Asgard. (At this time, they’re all alive. His mother, here and hale. Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, Sif, likely somewhere nearby and plotting with him on how they’re going to solve the latest challenge. And Jane.)

She asks him a simple, “How long has it been?” and it all spills out of him, a dam overdue to be broken after five years of holding his pain and guilt at bay. He tells her of Ragnarok, the broad strokes of it anyway, losing his friends and his home and Mjolnir, that they’d broken up, Thanos, the stones, the battle they’d lost, the five years of wounded peace, and the chance they now have to fix it.

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” he whispers. “All that suffering and pain because I failed. We found him, and I killed him... but what was the point? We were too late, and I was just an idiot with an axe.”

“I might not know you as well as your Jane does,” she says slowly, “but I know enough to know that you’re no idiot.” She leans into him, looping her elbow around his and reaching for his hand. Their fingers twine, something familiar to Thor but new for her. “Everyone fails at something. That doesn’t make you a failure, it just makes you like everyone else.”

“But I’m supposed to be better.”

She shrugs. “Then prove it. When I first met you, and you failed to get Mjolnir back from the crater site, you didn’t shut down or stop trying. You just...” She sighs. “I don’t really know, but you just decided that you were still going to be better, even if you didn’t have your hammer. You taught me about the realms, you went to Izzy and apologized for smashing her mug,” she chuckles a little at that, “and it probably wasn’t what you wanted, but what I saw then wasn’t a failure. I didn’t fully get it then, but you had literally lost everything--your home, your way of life, your family, Mjolnir and your powers--but you still smiled at us, still kept moving forward when everything was trying to crush you. That’s a hero, if you ask me.”

He swallows, his emotion for this woman threatening to overwhelm him for a few heartbeats. “Thank you,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against hers. She leans back, relaxed and easy.

“You should try to call Mjolnir,” she suggests, so casual and offhand that it nearly knocks him off the couch.

He could, he realizes. Mjolnir is not gone in this timeline, and if they will return the Aether to it’s proper place, Mjolnir can make the trip back just as easily.

He’s spent the last five years proving himself to be a worthless lump of a man, being the exact opposite of what Jane thought him to be, but it isn’t too late for him. It had never felt right, being in the skin of a depressed, lazy drunk who sometimes couldn’t summon the energy to leave his bed or talk to his friends. It hadn’t been him. In fact, he’s felt more like himself since he’d come back to the Avengers for this wild, last-ditch effort to fix what Thanos did than he’s felt in a long time.

The last five years have changed him, certainly, but if Jane can still see the man who’d unflinchingly faced down death as a human man in New Mexico, then he can try to see him to.

Thor stands and reaches out, calling for a presence that had been his constant companion since he was a boy.

He calls, and Mjolnir answers.

Thor smiles.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 11/13 read here on ao3!

for @harringrovebigbang

~~~~

Their plan to rescue Billy is as follows:

Kali will take them to the place she saw in the dream circle, they’ll show up ready for a fight, though they’re hoping they don’t find one, and the kids are to stay at home with Nancy and Joyce unless they’re called upon, while they wait for the action preparing everything to do with communication and first-aid. El gets an exception from the otherwise nonnegotiable rule, in part because she refuses to let her sister go alone, perhaps too traumatized by already losing her father to leave her side, but mainly because she has the advantage of having had powers before.

Their window of opportunity to get Billy out without letting free any monsters is far too slim to chance bringing anyone else along on the mission, having such a large group sure to draw unwanted attention to themselves, and possibly get them all slaughtered without the luck and the superpowers they had before on their side.

Steve hands Robin the keys to his car, silently telling her she should be the one to drive them. He’s too on edge to do it himself, his emotions so shot with each new discovery they’ve made tonight he’s sure he’d crash it, and Kali and El are busy acting as their navigators.

Everyone in this car knows about Billy and Steve, so they don’t have to be discreet about the fact that the place they’re going, as Kali described it ‘Billy’s lovers home,’ is basically to Steve’s backyard. He wonders, the nearer they get to that overly familiar place, how long Billy has been wandering in the area, and how much sooner he could have found him if he wasn’t at work or with Robin all the time, but he tries not to think about that, focusing instead on saving him now.

They park near his house, Steve getting out first and popping the trunk to get the nail bat, which he kept in his car for emergencies and honestly just because he didn’t know what else to do with it, while the girls look for flashlights in the glove box.

Steve closes the trunk, it’s metal clang echoing off the trees more than usual in the strangely silent night, his weapon thrown casually over his shoulder, “Are we ready?”

Kali and El nod, identical looks of dedication and bravery in their features. Robin’s answer is lighter, starting with a tired sigh before her equally as worn response, “As we’ll ever be.”

Steve leads the way because he knows these woods, grew up playing in them with all the other snot-nosed brats in the area who would never have to know the truth about what lurked in the outskirts of their childhood memories. He wishes he was still that kid, who was clueless about

After a while of wandering, the directions from Kali seeming to lead them only to fallen down trees and a frozen creek, Steve wonders aloud, “You said he’s looking for a gate?”

“Yes. There’s one in these woods even. Before, there was a girl taken in your backyard, correct?”

Steve frowns, answering, unsure how Kali knows that or what the relevance is, “Uh. Yeah?”

“I believe the gate was created in the woods by the monster when it took her through. Billy must have found or been led to that old, now sealed gate, and is trying to escape through it now.”

“How do we find it though?”

“I know. I saw it.” El chimes in, with her powers gone, her other natural senses like memory stronger.

“You saw it? When was this?” Kali asks, a gentle coach for her apprehensive sister, who explains, “Before. When Will was lost.”

“So it’s been awhile. Do you still remember the way?”

El nods, and Kali smiles encouragingly, “Then take us there, Jane.”

The woods seem so much bigger when it’s dark and Steve is looking for his dying boyfriend, the tension and frustration as they pass by endless rows of trees in the freezing cold air with no signs of Billy draining away the hope he’d been building, and making him irritated with their seemingly unhurried pace.

Finally, once Steve feels like he’s going to panic, El whispers, pointing to a dead tree, a faint red glow emanating from under its bark, “There.”

Putting her arm out across Robin's chest and holding El’s hand to keep the group from moving further, Kali warns, “Stay away from it. It’s been used recently.”

But Steve ignores her warning, ignoring the threat of whatever was in there and approaching the tree, “That means Billy could be out here.”

He disturbs the quiet they were moving slowly to try to preserve, calling out, “Bills? Billy baby, where are you?”

A faint growl from an unseen monster sends shivers up the spines of the three girls, but Steve is still too distracted, his rational sense too entrapped in the throes of panic to notice the sound, and, as he is holding heir only weapon, Robin hisses at him, “Steve, I love you, but please shut up. There could be a monster out here.”

“No. Billy is out here too, and I have to help him, Rob.” He insists, turning and “Billy? Are you out here? Please!”

“Steve, just listen to me for five seconds!”

“What is it, Robin!”

She stays silent, gesturing to the empty air, and Steve is about to ask what he’s supposed to be looking at when he hears the snarls and chitters she must have been hearing, his stomach dropping at the realization that there was something close by, “Oh shit..”

“Yeah, oh shit!” Robin whisper-yells, “What the hell are we going to do now, dingus?”

Steve bites his lip, has to think hard about how to fix this mistake he’d made, “Kali, do you feel Billy?”

She nods seriously, “I do, and I can reach him and guide him from here, but I will only do it once it’s safe.”

“Then I’ll keep the monster held off. You just stay here and start looking.” He plots, and Kali nods again, doesn’t like taking orders but recognizes the urgency and danger of the situation is to blame for Steve’s bluntness with her.

Robin also knows Steve well enough to know what he means by that declaration, and she instantly insists, her town laced with desperation, “I’m coming with you.”

“We’ve only got one nail bat, Robs. Stay here with El and Kali. I want Billy to see a familiar face when he gets out anyways.”

Robin’s lip quivers slightly, and she throws her arms around Steve, despite the awkward one armed hug he has to give her because of the bat. She mumbles into his shirt, “I love you, Stevie. Please be safe.” She chuckles wetly, tears obvious in her voice, “I’ll kill you if you die out there.”

Holding her tight, but not letting his emotions through, not yet anyways, he assures her, “Love you too, Robs. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Breaking the hug with Robin, he waves to the sisters and sets off from the group, waiting until he can’t see them anymore to call, “Hey!! Come out and get me, you big asshole!”

When there’s nothing but the distant sound of rustling, like it heard him but won’t come, he has the sense that the monster is aware of both groups, and is deciding which to go after, so Steve pricks the his finger on the end of the sharpest nail on purpose, hoping his blood will attract the monster more than Kali’s, “That’s right, come this way and fight me!”

That catches its interest, and for the first time he is able to make out the creature's figure as it moves closer to him. What he’s expecting is for it to charge at him at any second, that was his goal after all, but what Steve is very much not anticipating, is for it to rise to its back legs, a fully grown demogorgon only slightly smaller than the first one he’d faced, “Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

Steve raises his bat, taking in every detail of the monster before they have to fight. It’s more frail than the one he’d fought before, he guesses because it has no leader. It seems less violent, from the way it just sort of watches him, not immediately starting its attack. He notices then, that this demogorgon is not more good natured or more weak than the other, but that it’s already been injured in a fight.

Right in the center of its chest is a bleeding hole almost as wide as the demogorgon itself, seemingly made by a shotgun blast. Because of the way this thing is, Steve knows that the wound isn’t hurting it much, but also that it’s exploitable. That, if he can just drive the end of his bat through that tender spot, it will die.

He decides he’s not going to wait for it to recuperate, and he charges first, bat clutched in both hands and raised over his head, his focus on driving through.

But as small a threat as this demogorgon seems, it still has a lot of teeth and a good bit of fight left in it, because it swipes Steve out of the way like a small annoyance, claws catching on his face just enough to leave two small, stinging scratches, and knock the bat out of his hands.

He scrambles for his weapon, dodging an attempt at a bite on his arm when he reaches for the bat, swinging it as soon as it’s back in his hands, hitting its face and tearing its flesh.

While it roars, in anger and pain and probably frustration that he’s beating it, Steve backs away, avoiding the blind, angry swings of its claws at him,

Again, he doesn’t give the demogorgon the chance to recover before he attacks, this time going for its legs, hoping to get the advantage by getting it on the ground. It easily dodges those swings, so Steve switches tactics, afraid to let the thing get too much confidence that it can beat him and tear him to shreds for making it mad, instead swinging and sticking that nails in its back repeatedly.

The combination of making it turn trying to grab for him behind it and the attack works, the creature sinking to its knees, the ultimate sign of submission and weakness.

Steve takes a deep breath, hoping this isn’t just a trap, the monster trying to look weak so it can trick him into coming close and finish him off. He raises the bat high over his head, plunging it with both hands through the already weak center of its chest.

It wasn’t a trap. The demogorgon hisses and shrieks, horrible sounds that make Steve let go of the bat and cover his ears, without the support of the bat, the monster falling to the dirt, dead if he’d ever seen one.

Steve puts his shoe on its neck, just in case, and pries the bat back out from its body, halfway down past the nails now completely coated in thick monster blood and gore. He grimaces, sticking it instead in the mud and leaning on it while he catches his breath, too terrified of what he’d been able to do, or rather, what he had to do in order to save his friends and Billy, who still might not survive all of this, to celebrate his own victory.

While it sits with him, and the adrenaline rush that carried him to killing a demogorgon gradually calms down, the radio in his pocket starts up. Through the intense static, he’s able to hear broken up bits of his name, but the words are stuck in his throat, unable yet to respond.

“Steve?” Slowly he can make out that it’s Robin’s voice calling to him, her tone getting gradually more desperate, “Steven Carson Harrington, come through right the hell now!”

He recognizes her fear, and that he should probably be dead right now, and only after he’s had enough time to sit with that thought is he ready to respond, “M’here, Rob. I’m here.”

On the other end, Robin sighs, immensely relieved by him making contact, has apparently been trying for longer than Steve had been able to hear in close range of the monster, “Jesus, Steve. I thought you were..”

“Not yet, Robs. I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

“And the demogorgon?”

“It’s dead.” Steve answers quickly, though he can’t find it in himself to give any details, anxiously moving the conversation along to, “Please tell me you have good news for me.”

He can hear the relieved smile on her voice as Robin responds, “I do. We’ve got him, Steve. We have Billy.”

[mhaverse-writes]

burning cold. (dabi x prohero!reader)

author’s note: oh, hi. uh, this is awkward. remember when i said i was coming back like months ago then i didn’t? good times, good times. well after a rough patch irl, i’m officially back! hope you didn’t miss me too much uwu. anyways, onto the story, i hope you enjoy! thanks for reading <3 - with love, rj

description: while working undercover at a club looking for a target, you run into the last person you wanted to see. the dangerous villain, dabi, who just so happens to be your very forbidden ex. though you’re trying to move on, dabi isn’t ready to let you go just yet.

warnings: cursing, suggestive content (some smoochin’ and heavy pettin’ ya dig?), dabi being massive a dick

                                             ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Hey, baby. You come here often?"

"Go to hell, Dabi."

From your seat at the bar, you take a quick sip of your drink before checking that your ear piece was off. You glance around to make sure none of your colleagues have noticed the poorly-disguised villain trying to 'pick you up,' but let out a tiny sigh of relief as they're too preoccupied with scouting for the target. Dabi chuckles, drawing your attention back to him, his smug face souring your mood the longer you look at it.

"If you're here to arrest me, you're doing a shit job at it," He idly runs his finger across the rim of his glass while resting his elbow against the bar and his head in his hand. His lack of caution with the fact that he's sitting next to a literal pro-hero isn't anything new, but it still annoyed you to no end. Did he see you as some kind of joke? Or he just knows you aren't going to do anything about it. God, the fact that he's so certain of his safety pisses you off even more.

"Shut up, I'm not here for you," Snapping with a bite that only makes his grin widen, you turn in your seat rather fast, spilling a little bit of your drink onto the floor. You ignore it, and do your best to ignore him as you rake your gaze across who you were really here for. Dabi turns as well, making a show of stretching before resting his arm behind you on the bar table. You feel your eye twitch, risking a look at him. He has his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

"Your claws wound me, kitten." Though he's speaking in his usual lazy drawl, somehow it isn't hard to hear him over the vibrating bass of music pounding your ears. It also didn't fail to send a tiny chill down your spine at the sound of the almost nostalgic nickname. You do your best to quell it, but it's Dabi of fucking course he notices. His grin is nearly lecherous, but he doesn't speak on it, thank God.

"Why are you here anyway? How did you find me?" Curiosity getting the better of you (the whole summation of your relationship with Dabi, if you're being honest) you turn to meet his icy blue stare, scowling hard to make sure you didn't get lost in it.

"Maybe 'I'm not here for you.'" Dabi parrots, eyes not leaving yours as he takes a sip of his drink. Your first instinct is to call bullshit, but a nagging insecurity at the back of your brain envisions him with someone else. Jealousy churns in your stomach, ugly and rancid, before you bury it down in disgust. Why should I care? Your rational side argues. It's good that he's moved on, that way he'll leave me the hell alone. But you know deep down, you're lying to yourself. Though you're pretty sure you'd rather nosedive off a cliff before admitting that.

Either way, you've entertained this long enough already. Grabbing your drink, you down the rest of it before moving to stand. The muted surprise on Dabi's face-- though it's as simple as his eyes widening the smallest amount-- doesn't fail to bring you satisfaction. He may think you're willing to give him all of your attention, but you are more than happy to prove him wrong.

Dabi, however, obviously is not.

Before you can even think, Dabi's hand snatches your wrist and drags you backward, sending you careening into his chest. You scoff up at him. Was he being serious right now?

"What the hell do you think you're--?!"

Dabi's lips fall to your ear and you're barely able to contain a shiver. "Your little 'target,' is onto you, kit. Three o' clock." Eyes widening, you instinctively turn to look, but Dabi tightens his hold on your wrist and whisks you away, leaving you stumbling after him as you try to keep up with his long legs. He expertly weaves you both through the oblivious crowd, before bodily moving you into a tiny corner on the other side of the club. You try to check on your teammates, but your attention is snatched by Dabi as he takes up every inch of your vision, pinning you against the wall. His cold eyes twinkle with amusement as he takes you in slowly.

"Y'know, I really missed you, sweet thing," You would almost think he's sincere if it weren't for the way he isn't sincere at all. He dips his head down and presses a kiss to the shell of your ear. You can't help but whimper, kicking yourself mentally right after. You can't do this right now! Your target is not only suspicious of you, but the fact your team could catch you with Dabi at any second seizes your stomach with fear. You reach up to your ear piece to turn it on. If you request assistance, maybe you could scare Dabi off.

Your fingers graze only the empty inside of your ear. Panic bubbles in you, burning cold. You look up at Dabi, to find your earpiece clutched daintily between his teeth. No. You reach forward, but aren't fast enough to stop him before he crushes it with a flex of his jaw.

You're alone.

Alone with him.

"Aw, don't look so scared, kit." He spits the busted thing out. You don't have time to register how gross that is before he takes another step close, even closer, bowing his head until your noses brush. Dabi's eyes flick down to your mouth. Your heart stops. "I'll protect you."

His lips crash into yours and you can't help the moan that leaves from deep in your chest at the feeling. Completely losing all reason, you arch into Dabi, hands grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him flush against you. You feel him smirk against your lips and a small part of you argues that you giving into him is a bad thing. But honestly, can it be so bad when it feels so unbelievably good?

Dabi pulls away all too soon and you damn near whine, chasing after his lips fruitlessly. Leaning back to his full height, Dabi considers you while looking all too pleased with himself. You’re too blissed out to care. God, you'd forgotten what his kiss felt like, did it always knock the breath out of you so fast?

"Here's the sitch, hero." He says, calloused hands tracing your features. You melt into them, despite yourself. "I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t here for you. Thing is, the little snitch you're after has unfinished business with us. And you taking him in--well--causes some problems for me and my team."

That gets you. Snapping out of your stupor, you blink up at him, eyebrows creasing. Is this what this was? He was only trying to distract you? You dig your nails into your palms, cursing yourself for not seeing this sooner. If Dabi was here, damn well Toga or someone else could be here too. If Toga was here, you wouldn't even know who she was. What if she already took advantage of you abandoning your post and snatched up the target? Hell, she could already be halfway back to their base with him!

"You bastard!" Damn near snarling, you shove him back with all your might, face hot with embarrassment. "Is that why you cornered me here? To get me away from your fucking snitch?!" Dabi merely chuckles. God, you wanted to punch him right in his stupid mouth.

"No, baby. I brought you here because I missed you,” His thumb ran over your bottom lip, retreating when you tried to bite him. “And tell you to back off.” Though he's still smiling, all humor has drained from his voice, making your blood run cold. "I'd hate to have to dirty up that pretty little outfit of yours. I'll take it from here."

"Like hell you w--!"

"There you are!"

The voice of your superior sends relief and fear rushing in you at the same time. You whirl to face her, trying to mask the shame threatening to swallow you whole.

"S-starlight!" You squeak, standing at attention. You glance at Dabi, to find he's already gone, the dancing crowd overtaking where he once stood. Oh, thank God, you think, before freezing up again. He was off to get the target. You didn't have much time.

"Where did you go?" Starlight demands, her iridescent nails digging into your shoulders as she grasped them. "I was worried you'd been compromised."

"W-we're not alone, Star," You stutter out, mind still reeling from the feeling of Dabi against you. Despite the fact he tricked you, it didn't stop the way your body still tingled at the thought of him. Jesus, you were done for. "The League is here, they're after the target too!" You left out Dabi. You left out Dabi?! Fuck, you were protecting him!

"What? Did they hurt y--?"

"No, no, I'm okay. But we need to hurry before--!"

Before you could finish, the sound of screams ripped your body from the inside out. Oh, no.

You and Starlight rush into action, following the screams towards the middle of the dance floor, where a crowd had gathered. You noticed the rest of your team pushing against people as well, struggling to get to the middle. But you didn't have to get there to see what happened next.

Blue flames fanned out in a hot arc, prompting the crowd to back away even further, shoving you and Starlight back. Dabi emerged from the fire, clutching your limp target, a sweaty, plump, balding man by the collar of his shirt. God, was he...?

"Dabi!" Starlight shouts, pure energy bursting to life from her palms. She used a beam of hard light to propel herself up and over the crowd, aiming towards the man. Your heart drops. For Starlight, Dabi, or both, you're not even sure.

Before she can reach him, however, Dabi takes off, using his flames to scare the crowd away, clearing a path for himself. The fire begins to spread and everyone shakes out of their shock to replace it with panic. The people run in different directions, struggling to escape the flames. Starlight and your teammates attempt to fight the crowd and chase the villain, but you stay stuck to the spot, cradling yourself to find some sense of comfort. You knew they weren't going to catch him. You've lost the target.

And it's all your fault.

Sighing, you kick into gear, following Starlight and pushing against the panic and eventually making it outside. The chill of the night is refreshing, but does nothing to ease the weight on your chest. Though you knew Dabi was long gone, it hurt even more to see it. He had played you. Again.

And something tells you it won't be the last time.

[werezmastarbucks]

amalfi

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 1751

They were probably going out of their minds with worry out there. Even Damon must have already started feeling guilty. God knows what that monster Kai Parker could do with you in the prison world, where he had no other thing to play with, but you.

The sea air was sweet and salty, warm, and your lungs were breathing slowly for you, as you took deep pockets of it through your nose. You knew you couldn’t get healthier even if you spent the whole time at Mar Tirreno. It was rather frustrating that all the time you spent in the sun, warming up and bathing in the lovely May rays, you wouldn’t change a bit because your whole organism was on the loop, too. 

You were going through the CDs again. There were very clear, understandable rules in this world: for instance, never run out of music. You couldn’t function without music. It soothed Kai well, and it made driving everywhere easier. He wasn’t joking when he said he wouldn’t get behind the wheel unless there was a dire need. For that, he cooked.

He cooked so well. All the dishes you didn’t know the names of, he was eager to show off his talent of many years of training. He made food so good you wondered how a heartless person is capable of putting so much soul into it. He even taught you how to cook something, which was a big achievement. 

“Trash. Trash. Trash”, you chanted to yourself, throwing them out of the window. It was such a satisfying feeling to throw something out of the window of a car, even when you weren’t moving. You had to remind yourself though, that, once you get out, it would be littering. Here, nobody gave a shit. The planet didn’t give a shit. It did not acknowledge your presence, it wasn’t aware of you two quietly moving around its surface. It was hybernating. 

Kai was pondering on something, standing on the edge of the cliff. The sights here were beyond words. All the way to the horizon line, the light turquoise sea was calm and looked like warm lemonade. The sky was matching color, and the bright green trees shuffled nonchalantly in the lightest breeze that filled your skin and lungs. 

You’ve been arguing a little, about this and that, adjusting. The Florence fiasco left you feeling a little helpless (Kai raided the local antique library and found a spell that supposedly was used earlier for escaping from places such as this one; you’ve tried it; it didn’t work. Apparently, Bennett blood was still needed), and he wasn’t very supportive. Kai grew lazy and delighted with life like a fat cat; he didn’t even pretend anymore to be stressed out about being here. He was playing his own game of wearing you out into sleeping with him. Ever since you got here, you haven’t even kissed a single time, the shock of change, and the fact of being locked away and all. There was a certain moment when you realized you’re unable to think about romance, because you’re hybernating, too. You were searching for the way out, and pushing Kai to do the same. Although he slept with you every night, and you got quite used to him lying next to you, the unmistakable comforting heat of his body lulling you into sleep, you felt like you wanted to freeze in that moment. You felt like you were restricted by something. 

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” you suddenly realized, and turned to him. Your mouth formed an O. “Oh my god, it’s your birthday every day”.

Kai looked at you with the same look he gave you every time he thought you were being slow. Given his hyperactivity, and his sharp psychopathic mind never resting a bitching second, anybody would seem a little slow to him.

“I’m an eternal birthday boy”, he confirmed, a little sleepily, “it’s high time you start treating me accordingly”.

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, starting the car. 

“You know it’s only us here, right? There’s no one to see you, or stop you, to judge you”, he said, cryptic as hell. The road was smooth, the asphalt glistened with heat, gliding car feeling its wheels like they were blades on ice. You went bananas and carjacked a 911 Carrera S for this place. This whole Italian vibe made you feel like you were incredibly rich. Life was sweet like shave ice with strawberry syrop soaking it through. You still waited for the other shoe to drop... looking at Kai, sometimes you thought, what if it never does? He’s crazy. His world is crazy. What if it’s not supposed to be bad here with him?

“I’m aware of that”, you replied.

“You don’t have to pretend”, Kai concluded, “you can admit whatever you feel for me. Sooner or later you’ll end up on my dick anyway. We like each other, it’s a fact”.

Your hands squeezed the wheel as you stared in front of you. Kai had a point. There was mutual attraction. 

There was mutual need, too.

“Maybe I do have to pretend”.

“What for?”

He tried to seem dispassionate, but you knew he was impatient. Kai Parker was a very impatient person. If he got to the car first, he’d always scream to make you move quicker. He knew there was no hurry whatsoever, but he hated to wait. He yelled at stoves. He cursed at traffic lights even though you obviously ignored them all. Just the sight of a red light pissed him off. 

Now, he had to be patient to get to the third base. He was somewhat cunning about it; his night embrace was a little more than just a cuddle. 

“We’re here less than a month. Who knows how long more it’s going to be? I mean, we can’t get bored at once, you know?”

Kaik blinked, processing.

“Right, princess. You want entertainment?”

You didn’t like the tone of that.

Perhaps the way he said it scared you enough to give you a nightmare.

You dreamt you walked down your street in Mystic Falls. It was so atypically dark your skin crawled. You didn’t hear them, but you could feel vampires were around you. They were not usual vampires, like Damon and Stefan - human, friendly, diverse and nice looking. They were monsters from 80s fantasy filled horrors, with long saliva dripping fangs, and, most importantly, demonic. An old feeling of supernatural presence, which startled you at night when Kai attempted to save you by killing you, once again made you freeze with horror. 

You walked faster, trying to get away, and praying for light. Not a single street light was on, you couldn’t even see it. The blackness was thick and absolute, and you knew you’d be attacked any second. Fear was physical in this one, stinging you, making it hard to move your feet. You tried running and stumbled upon something, falling on hard ground. Before you managed to get up, you felt somebody leaning over you, breathing down the back of your head. You were trapped. 

You woke up and stared into the darkness, expecting a painful bite. You’ve been bitten by vampires before. It was very painful, but you couldn’t imagine what it would feel like this time.

Trying to figure out where you are, just like always, you were afraid to move an inch not to produce a sound. Slowly, you moved your fingers, then your shoulders, and started feeling the weight of the blanket on you. You heard the sea. You exhaled through your nose and rolled on your back to see the empty bed. 

“Kai?” you whispered. You sat up and grouped, holding onto your knees. It’s always like that with nightmares; they go, and you stay in them. Brain knows the room is empty, but the mind is still captivated. You still expect them to jump out of the closet. And of all people, Kai Parker must be the one to save you. Why?

“Kai!” you called, irritated. Why the fuck, of all nights he pushes you almost off the bed with his invasive hugs, he’s not there exactly tonight, when you need human warmth to get your head straight. 

“KAI!”

The door opened slowly. He was standing in complete darkness, wide awake.

“What is it?”

You were silent for some time. Admitting your vulnerability to him would be about the last threshold. You’d have to completely love each other after this. You wouldn’t be able to let him go. It all now depended on how he’d react. 

“I had a nightmare”.

He walked towards the bed slowly, sat down and offered his shoulder. He always hugged you in this wide gesture, which he probably saw in a movie. It was a commercial dad hug, wide swing of an arm which then rested around your shoulder. The only times he felt humanly close was when he was clinging on you at night.

He settled on the pillows, bringing you close, and you finally let the air out with relief.

“You still get spooked?” he asked with surprise.

“Yes”.

“What was it about?”

“Vampires”.

He hummed. 

In this night calm, you were close enough to hear something beat in his chest. You asked yourself what curious chain of events made you end up together with this interesting individual. What comes out of it. 

His hand rested on your bare shoulder, fingers drawing uneven circles absently. He seemed a bit distant but he liked touching you. You could still smell your own perfume on his shirt from the day. You got that fragile desire to kiss him, to rub your face on his neck, to be close to him. 

“We’re really completely alone here”, you said.

“Yeah”.

“How did you know Bonnie and Damon came?”

“I felt it, I’m a witch after all”.

“How can you be sure there aren’t any beasts here? Something goes wrong, aliens slither into this dimension. Some chthonic monster. Some ancient spirits. Your own double, or demons. Or something”.

“It’s an empty place, Y/N, I just know it. I have been everywhere around, and I didn’t find anyone. I’d be happy to meet a chthonic monster even. But we are tremendously alone”.

At this moment the hug tightened because you brought him closer. 

“But I like it here with you”, he added, “it’s not that bad. People are boring anyway”.

[tooyoungngolden]

Prompt:

Bed sharing au:

The heater broke and I’m freezing. Get over here.

A little over 4.2K words

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Y/N hated the winter. Absolutely despised the cold weather and how it made her bones ache. She hated the fact that her apartment went from being toasty warm to freezing fucking cold, hated the fact that she had to wear 9 different layers to even stay a little bit warm. Hated the fact that she spent it alone.

And now here she was. On her bed, wrapped in her duvet and every single blanked currently in her apartment, still shivering. The heating had broke a little over 4 hours ago and the landlord had told her that he wasn’t going to be able to fix it until the end of the week. So here she was, wrapped in ever blanked imaginable- freezing. The warmth that had once filled her apartment had very quickly evaporated as soon as the heating had shut off, and her home was cold within an hour.

Y/N didn’t know what the hell she was meant to do. She was wearing 4 different layers and 3 pairs of socks and her body still didn’t want to stop its shaking. She didn’t have her portable heater, that she’s lent to one of the girls from work and she didn’t have the heart to ask for it back now, especially when it was so cold outside. She’d sooner stay cold then make someone else cold.

Y/N didn’t even have anywhere she could go. She didn’t really have any friends in the area, she wasn’t close enough to the girls at work to even think about asking to stay round any of their houses. And Harry wasn’t due back in England for a couple more days- he’d just finished he’s tour and was wrapping up with interviews and a few little things before he got on a plane home. And even then, he’d be in his nice warm hotel room while Y/N suffered in the cold.

She turns over, squishing her face into her pillow, huffing out a small breath, she pulls the duvet up over her head. Trying to at least trap a little air in with her that could potentially become warm while she was under there. She whines, tears pricking at her eyes as she shivers. She doesn’t want to be cold anymore.

She so busy not paying attention to anything around her that she doesn’t hear keys being shoved into the lock on her front door. She doesn’t hear the door sticking and being shoved open, doesn’t hear the voice her best friend mutter out a quick “shit”, or the door being shut behind him. She doesn’t hear him come down the hallway, but she definitely hears him push open the door to her bedroom because it scares the shit out of her. She throws the duvet off her head and launches herself up in the bed. She stares at him, her mouth slightly, eyes focused on Harry.

“H?” She whispers. Pulling the duvet back up to her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m home early,” he says back, his voice a little louder than hers, “‘s only a couple days, I finished everything yesterday,”

She nods, moving herself up the bed to pat the space next to her. Harry grins, reaching down to pull of his shoes before he throws himself on the bed as well.

“You alright love?” He asks, moving so that he was laying next to her.

She nods, pulling her body down so that she was laying next to Harry. Pulling her body as close to his as possible, trying to absorb as much of his body head as she could. He body starts up with its small shivering again.

“Yeah, jus’ cold,” she whispers again, trying not to let Harry know that her teeth were chattering in her mouth.

Harry moves again, wrapping his arms around Y/N and he looks around the room, noticing that all of her blankets were in the bed with her, noticing that she was shivering a little, he looks down at her. Eyes squinting as he asks, “whys it so cold in her love?”

Y/N laughs, a small little huff working it’s way past her lips- she’s so not amused though- “Fucking heating broke and I’m freezing. David said he can’t fix it til Friday, so I’m stuck like this. Now please, got over here. I’m so cold”

Harry laughed back at her, moving further down the bed so that Y/N could completely wrap herself in his arms. She shoves her head into his neck, breathing out short little warm puffs of air, tickling the skin right by her mouth.

“Why didn’t you phone love? You know you could’ve gone to mine? You’ve got the keys to my place?” He mumbles down at her, his chin moving her head slightly.

“Didn’t wanna be a bother. Don’t like it when your not there,” she whispers back, her lips lightly grazing the skin on his neck.

“I know love. I would’ve been home by Friday though. You still could’ve gone,”

Y/N nods her head back, she knows that Harry has always said that his house is her home too, knows that he’s always said that she’s welcome- even if he’s not there. “Didn’t wanna go though,” she murmured.

“‘S okay my love,” Harry whispers back, “have you been in bed all day?”

Y/N shakes her head a little, not wanting to move away from the heat that Harry’s body was letting out, “Couple hours. Heat went out a little after lunch,”

Harry frowns, he knows that the time is a little after 5 so the fact that it had gone off a little after lunch means it’s been of for a little over 5 hours, which means that she’s been freezing for well over 5 hours.

“Do you wanna come back to mine love?” Harry questions, “with me this time?”

Y/N shakes her head again,”don’t wanna be a bother,”

Harry reaches up for her face, lifting it from where it was tucked into his neck, “Your never a bother love. Ever,” he states, making sure that his eyes were locked with Y/N’s as he muttered those words.

Y/N blushes. A hot red flush quickly taking over most of her face, she looks down. Moving her head out of Harry’s lose grip and back down into his neck. She smiles, she’d always loved how Harry would always take care of her. No matter what.

“You sure?” She questions, her voice slightly muffled for where she was asking her questions, “don’t wanna get it the way,”

“Your fine love, your never in the way when your with me, plus not gonna be doing anything till the end of the month anyways,” he pats her thigh under the duvet, making Y/N clench her legs together, she prays that Harry doesn’t notice that.

“‘Kay, I’ll come back to yours. Not gonna stay tho,” she added, also hoping that Harry didn’t hear the last bit. He did of course, but he chose not to answer it. He knew that she’d be staying. He sure as hell wasn’t letting her come back to a freezing cold apartment.

“Come on love, let’s get you packed. We’ll leave as soon as you’ve finished,” he stated, moving the duvet off the bodies. Y/N whined, reaching out to pull the duvet back over them. She was finally warm and Harry was just gonna let all that heat escape from the cocoon that they were wrapped in.

“Don’t wanna move. I’m finally warm H,” she wined, shuffling further down the bed so that her whole head was almost tucked under the duvet. Her head now buried down into Harry’s chest.

He laughed, the sound causing his chest to move, making her head move with it. “You’ll be fine! We’re going back to mine anyways love. Where the heating actually works,” he added, after his laughing had finished.

She whine again, seriously debating if it was worth moving out from her pillow of warmth and into the frigid air that filled her bedroom. She ultimately decided that it was obviously worth her not freezing to death and moved up so that her face was level with Harry’s. She looked at him, squinting her eyes at the grin that was spread across his lips.

“What you smiling at?” She questioned, sitting back a little.

“Nothing…” Harry’s smile got bigger. He reached down, patting her on the thigh again, “now come on! Let’s get your bag and we can go to mine,”

Y/N nodded in confirmation, moving her hand down to shove the covers off both of them she moved back a little more, letting Harry wiggle his was off the bed before she quickly followed, shuddering at the feel of the air against her skin again.

“Come on!” She urged Harry to help, he knew where everything was in her home, he could help her pack her bag so that they weren’t staying in her freezing cold apartment for any more time than absolutely necessary. She reached down, pulling her oversized- not quite duffle- bag out from under her bed.

She walked over to the set of draws by her door, opening the top one she pulled out a couple pairs or underwear – she most definitely did not pick out her favourite most prettiest ones- and shoved them into the bag, making sure that she had the matching bras she closes the draw before moving down the the pyjamas, she doesn’t know why she’s even bothering to pack any, she knows for a fact that she’s probably going to end up sleeping in Harry’s clothes anyways, she packs three pairs, just because.

Next is her choice of clothing, Harry’s already got that covered as she can clearly see that he’s pulled out her favourite pair of leggings and a pair of jeans, all folded neatly on the bed waiting for her to put them in the bag. She can also see that he’s eyeing up one of the jumpers that he’d gave her, debating on if he should pull that out of her wardrobe or not.

“Can you give me that jumper,” she asks, beating Harry to asking her and ending his internal debate with himself.

He knows exactly what jumper she’s on about, goes straight to it and pulls it off the hanger, passing it to Y/N to be folded and placed into her bag alongside her other clothes. He grabs another one of her jumpers, one of his personal favourite and passes that to her as well. He pulls out a couple T-shirt’s for her to put in the bag and closes the door. Moving to stand next to her and ‘help’ her pack the bag.

Y/N laughs, shoving at Harry’s hands and he tries to help her pack the bag, all he’s actually doing is getting in the way and ruining her perfectly folded clothing. She shoves him again, slapping his hands to get him to leave the bag alone. Once she’s sure he’s not going to touch the neatly placed clothing in the bad she moves into the bathroom, collecting up all of her skincare and pieces of makeup she wares she shoves them into her makeup bag, not bothering to pick up her toothbrush, knowing full well that Harry has one at his place.

She moves back into the bedroom, Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed, scrolling through something on his phone, when she comes out of the bathroom her looks up at her, smiling at her as she grins back at him.

“Think I got everything,” she states as she shoves the small makeup bag into her overnight one, making sure that the zip was all the way closed, she picks the bag up, throwing it over her shoulder as she walks out of her bedroom and into the living room. She picks her phone up off the coffee table, noticing that she had a text from Harry that she obviously hadn’t seen, she reads the small print, another smile working it’s way back onto her face as she reads the small letters, ‘I’m home. Coming to you x’

She shoves her phone into the side pocket on her bag, making sure that it’s in there before walks over to the front door, Harry trailing behind her the whole way. She places the bag down by the door, shoving her socked feet into her batterer boots she zips them up, standing again she notices that Harry had picked up her coat and was holding it open for her to slid her arms into, she does and pulls the coat on comfortably before she looks down for her bag, Harry had already picked it up and it was currently resting over his shoulder, he was dangling his car keys from his fingers, a smirk on his face as he looked at her.

“Ready to go back to mine and eat trashy food and watch trash movies?” He questioned her, wiggling his eyes brows as soon as he even mentioned the word movies, his smile getting bigger he more he talks.

Y/N nods her head, her own smile getting larger, “Yeah, lets go H,” she pulls open the door, grabbing her own keys off the table and ushering Harry out. Slamming the door shut behind her she shoves the key into the lock, making sure that the door was locked she follows Harry down the hallway, shoving her arm through his, he pushes the button the call the lift up to them. Standing there in completely comfortable silence, they waited. Stepping into the lift as soon as it arrived at her floor, Y/N pushed the button for floor zero, thanking God that they didn’t have to wait for other people to get into the lift with them.

Once they reach the ground floor they walk out the building, Y/N’s arm still through Harry’s as they walk over to his car, him clicking the button to unlock it he open the boot, he gently pulls his arm out from hers, pulling open the boot he shoves her bag in and walks around the the drivers side, Y/N already sitting in her seat waiting for him.

“You okay love?” He questions, looking over at her.

Y/N nods back at him, a sleepy smile crossing her face as she replies, “yeah… I’m okay H, can we go?”

Harry nods at her, he shoves the keys into the ignition, twisting them until the car starts, he cranks the heat up as high as possible, waiting a minute for the car to start heating up. Once he feels a little bit warmer he pulls out of his spot outside her flat, indicating where he want to go he start the short 25 minute drive over to his own place. Looking over he notices that Y/N was drifting off, her head rested against the car window, he body finally warm.

——————

The drive from Y/N’s house to Harry’s is over before he even realises that they were at his, he was pulling into the driveway, making sure that the gate was closed behind the car before he pulled as close to the front door as he could.

He pulls the keys out of the ignition and looks over at Y/N, who was now completely asleep, resting her head on the window. Harry looks at her, just sitting there for a minute- staring at his best friend. He doesn’t know why she didn’t call him, doesn’t know why she didn’t just come here. Harry shakes his head, gently reaching out to pull his door open. He jumps out the car, strolling round the the boot to get Y/N’s bag out. He leaves her the for a minute, walking up to the front door to unlock it and place her bag inside before he walks back out to the car.

He gently pulls her door open, making sure that he’s hand was right where here head was resting so that she didn’t nearly fall out the car.

“Y/N,” he shakes her gently, reaching over her with his other hand to push the button to release her seatbelt. She groans, reaching up and stretching.

“Did I fall asleep?” She whines, her neck clicking.

Harry nods, grasping her hand to pull her out the car and onto the ground next to him. He clicks the button on the car keys to lock the car, walking her over to the still open front door.

“My bag-“ she starts,

“‘S already in the house,” Harry finishes, interrupting her before she can ask where her bag was.

Y/N nods again. Her movements still a little slow, her body heavy with sleep.

“You wanna go to bed love?” Harry asks, turning around to pull the door shut behind them as they get into the house, still not letting go of her.

She moves her body back towards Harry, nodding her head in answer to his question, not really using her words.

“Come on then,” he bends down, picking her bag up from where he left it and walks over to the staircase, stopping before he reaches the bottom step.

“Hang on, let me just turn the heating on,” he walks over to the small little box by the living room down, flipping down the cover before turning the temperature up to something that would warm the house quickly. He turns back to Y/N where was leaning against the handrail by the stairs. He smiles at her, quickly moving back to where she was standing so that she didn’t over.

“Come on love, up with you,” he moves behind her, making sure that she was stable on the stairs as she was walking up. Once they reached the top of the he guided her into his bedroom, dumping her bag down the side of the bed.

“Lets get you changed into something comfortable love,” he states as he walks over to his own chest of draws to pull out a top that she could wear, she knew that shouldn’t have bothered to pack things to wear to bed, knew for a fact that Harry was going to give her his own clothes.

Y/N takes the shirt off Harry, shuffling her way across his floor and into the bathroom where she quietly snips the door closed behind her, she’s not bothered about changing in front of Harry, they’d done it a million time’s, she just want feeling like it at the minute. She pulls her own clothes off, dumping them into a pile in the corner of his bathroom to be picked up and shoved into her bag at some point later in the evening. She pulls Harry’s top over head head, yanking it down so it sits comfortably on her body, the top falling to a little bit above her knees. She bends her head down, lifting the top a little so that it rested over her nose, breathing in deeply her nose is filled with the smell that is entirely Harry.

She pulls the top back down, breathing in the air around her to clear her mind slightly, she pulls the bathroom door open to see that Harry was also dressed down, he’d pulled off his jumper and T-shirt- leaving his chest bare for her to stare at his tattoos- and had swapped out his jeans for a pair a sleep trousers. He looked soft, and cuddly.

“You gonna nap with me?” She asks, cocking her head to the side, staring at him- her eyes not leaving his face. Heaven forbid she stare even a little bit at his chest, her face would be as red as a tomato as soon as Harry even realised what she was doing.

He nods, walking over the the bed and pulling the duvet down on both sides, “Yeah, not for long tho. Gonna have to get dinner on soon,” he reminds her.

She walks over to what she likes to think of as her side of the bed and slides in, her body was warm all over- she was no longer cold but she sure as hell wasn’t going to resist cuddles of her Harry Styles. She waits for Harry to get comfortable before she moves over to him, wiggling down- in his so much better than hers bed- she moves so that her head was resting against Harry’s chest, listening to his heart beat.

Harry wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, he bends down, resting his own head on top of hers, breathing in the fresh smell of apples and vanilla that was her shampoo. He absolutely loved the smell of her, always breathing in as deeply as possible whenever she was around.

The phone of the other side of the room had an alarm set for a little over an hour. They’d get to nap until around quarter to seven before Harry makes them get up to make dinner of some kind. He doesn’t worry about that now though, letting out a deep breath he lets his body relax, pressing a kiss to the already half asleep woman spread across him he closes he’s eyes, mumbling out a quite “love you,” he doesn’t think that she’s going to hear what he says, let alone even remember the words. But she does.

She hears him mumble them, her heart filling with a little more love for him than it was earlier. She turns her head slightly, letting her lips drop a small kiss to the swallow that rests above his heart she mumbles back those three little words, knowing for a fact that Harry wasn’t asleep already and that he definitely hears her.

That fact is proven when his body tenses a little, those kind of confessions were definitely done when the other partner was asleep. When they couldn’t hear what you were saying, where they couldn’t respond. The fact that Y/N was able to hear every word that Harry said makes him a little- just a little- but tense. His body becoming rigid beneath Y/N’s head.

She looks up at up him, angling her body so that she could see his face- it’s not the most comfortable position but she wants to see his face. She smiles at him, noticing that his eyes were a little wide.

“You know, you don’t have to say that when you think I’m sleeping. I love you too,” she mummers, her eyes not leaving his face. She’s glad that she doesn’t look away from him, she glad that she didn’t miss his face flushing and his mouth opening slightly.

She laughs, moving again so that the top half of her body was raised, actually looking down at Harry as he laid there, “You’ve honestly got to be stupid to not be able to see that I’m in love you,” she grins, her voice teasing at him. All signs of sleep that had just filled her body were gone, her voice a little shaky with nerves.

“You know… when I said earlier that I didn’t like coming here, it’s not because I don’t want to be a bother… it’s because your not here. And it’s not home when your not with me,” she confessed, her voice just loud enough for Harry to hear.

Harry moves his body, sitting up a little bit so that Y/N falls towards him, her face smacking into his chest as he sat up. Y/N laughs, reaching up to rub at her nose before she sits up as well. Grinning up at him she settles back down, crossing her legs and shivering a little as the thick duvet falls off her shoulders and back onto the bed.

Harry looks at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar, not a single word works it’s way past his lips. He just sits there, and stares at her.

Y/N looks down at her hands, buried in her lap she can feel the nerves and self consciousness creeping up her spine. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

He nods slowly, he thinks that his mind is finally beginning to wrap itself around the fact that she loves him. She’s actually in love with him. The feelings that he’d felt for the longest time ever possibly imaginable were returned, actually reciprocated.

“You… you love me too?” He stuttered, reaching out to pull her hand into his, his fingers tightening as soon as he got a good grip, Y/N smiled down at their joined hands, moving her other hand up to run across his fingers.

Y/N looks up at Harry, her smile becoming sweet as she looks at him. Her head moves in a small nod her eyes still not leaving his.

“I love you too,” she repeats, her voice more confident than how she said it seconds ago.

He laughs, a happy, content laugh that echoes around the room, filling Y/N with her own happiness. Harry pulls on her arm, pulling her across the bed and into his lap, her arms coming up to wrap around him as his arms wrap around her waist.

She bends her her down, finally connecting their lips like she’d wanted to do so many times before.

Their both laughing, their first kiss as perfect as it could possibly be. They pull away, her head resting against his as they both grin.

“Love you,” they both say at the exact same time, another laugh working it’s way out of their mouths again.

Harry stretches up, connecting their lips together once again. This kiss is so much better than what their first one was.

She’s so glad that her hearing went out. So glad that Harry came home early, so so glad that she finially gets to be with him how she wants to. How she’s always wanted to.

She snuggles back down in the bed, this time not bothering to move her body off Harry’s, she stays where she was. Laying back down on his body, her whole body connected to his as every possible area. She shoves her head back into he’s neck, leaving small little kisses where her mouth lays against his skin.

She moves her head, laying it back on Harry’s chest, going back to listening to his heartbeat as she feels him kissing her head. She smiles, completely and utterly content in this moment.

——————

Another friends to loverssss... I really do have a thing for this prompt. I can’t stop writing them it actually kills meee....

I liked the idea of this one, thought it was kinda cute! Send me something guys! Need more ideas on what to write while I’m stuck inside for the next 3 weeks!!

Give me feedback! It’s much appreciated and loved!

Be nice and treat people with kindness!

Love Dari🌻

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Sneaking Around | Chapter Fifteen

Lysandra’s caller ID showed up on Aelin’s phone, which she had in fact retrieved from Rowan’s earlier in the day. After a round of sex with Rowan, Aelin had eaten breakfast and walked over to pick up said phone (Rowan was too lazy to come with her), and driven back in her car.

Despite wanting to know what the hell was going on with Lysandra and Aedion, Aelin decided to wait until one of them said something to her. Which was happening now, at half past three.

“Hey Lys. Have a fun night?” Aelin couldn’t help but tease.

“Good gods yes. It was amazing.” Lysandra sounded out of breath.

Aelin answered with her usual snark, “Well good for you, darlin’, but seeing as you slept with my brother, I’d rather not hear the details.”

“Right. But holy fuck Aelin, guess what happened!”

“You two had sex. Woke up the next morning and confessed your undying love for each other. Raced into the bathroom to call me.”

Lysandra gasped. “What the hell, Aelin. Are you stalking me?”

Aelin giggled. “Oh, shit, I got it right, didn’t I? You are so predictable.”

Lys sighed. “I woke up next to him, and I laid there for a few seconds trying to figure out what the hell had happened, and then I remembered. And I looked over. And fuck, Lin, I didn’t know what to do. I debated running away, but I thought of what a coward I’d been for so long, so I poked him.” Aelin snorted here. “And he woke up and was all bleary and then he was like Oh! and then I just blurted, “I love you!” And he said it back! Fuck, who knew?”

“I know that’s supposed to be a rhetorical question, but everyone. Everyone knew.” Aelin was smirking.

“Whatever. And so I squealed and ran to the bathroom and called you. Like you said. Are you sure you don’t have cameras in here?” Lys asked.

“Yes, I do. To watch my best friend and my brother going at it,” Aelin responded dryly. “And seriously, you didn’t wake up until a few minutes ago? It’s after three.”

“Hush, I had a lot to drink. And now that I am aware of your relationship with Whitethorn, I need the details. Every freakin’ detail.”

“Maybe not on the phone when you’re camped out in my brother’s bathroom. Did you even put any clothes on?”

Lysandra snorted. “I’m too pretty for clothes.”

Aelin chuckled. “Go tell my brother he’s dumb for not making a move sooner. And shit, I owe him twenty bucks. Don’t mention that part, okay?”

A giggle escaped Lysandra. “I can’t believe you had to get him drunk and bribe him just to kiss me.”

“We Galathynius folk are always stubborn. I’m braver, though.”

Lys snorted. “You’re not wrong. Alright, thanks for the chat. Have a nice time with lover boy.”

“Oh trust me, honey, I will. Bye.”

The sound of the shower Rowan had been running stopped and a minute later he walked out in a towel. Aelin’s eyes drifted to his muscular chest. She’d had plenty of chances to look at it before, but there really was no limit to gazing at that chiseled glory.

“Like what you see?” Rowan asked teasingly.

She shamelessly replied without looking away, “Yep. And hate to break it to you, but I’m allowed to check you out; we’re dating.”

Rowan snorted and sauntered into Aelin’s bedroom. He came out a few seconds later in sweatpants and a t-shirt, basically the only thing in his wardrobe. He had brought a change of clothes with him a few days prior, and Aelin had done the same at his apartment.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Whatever you make, dear,” Aelin replied sweetly. “And hurry, would you? I’m hungry.”

“You are wicked. But it’s Christmas Eve, so I’ll be nice.”

Aelin grinned. “For once.”

He just rolled his eyes at her and started looking through the cabinets, muttering about her abuse.

The “Christmas party” had taken place on the day before Christmas Eve, as most people didn’t want to spend Christmas Day with a bunch of drunken friends. Of the friends who didn’t travel for the holidays, Aelin and Aedion would be spending part of Christmas together as siblings. The rest Aelin would be with Rowan for. Hopefully Lys would see Aedion, but who could tell at this point? Manon liked to go out to bars on Christmas. “My favorite type of gay girl is the one who ditches everybody on the holiday to get a drink,” she always said. “The holidays are my favorite opportunities.” Everyone else always laughed at Manon’s antics.

Now, though, Aelin had a whole day to herself of Rowan.

-

After cereal for lunch (Rowan made a mean Cheerios bowl) and a Halloween movie (yes, on Christmas Eve - don’t judge), Aelin demanded Rowan take her on a walk.

“It’s snowing, Aelin.” Despite being late December, it hadn’t been very cold lately. Now, however, it was snowing in earnest. There was already an inch and a half on the ground and it was still going.

Aelin frowned. “That makes it even better. And remember, we need to work on your courage issues.”

Rowan scowled at her. “Enough of that.”

“It is enough when I say enough. Need I make a list of all your cowardly deeds? Let’s see; not wanting to go out in the snow now like a little baby, not telling Remelle to fuck off that one time, oh, and not asking me out for three fucking years? Also, jumping in the middle of Silence of the Lambs and-”

“Okay, that’s... we can go on a walk.”

“Yay!” Aelin brightened.

Rowan snorted. “You say that like you’re surprised. Did you ever have any doubt you’d get your way?”

“Of course not. It’s still exciting, though.”

Aelin dug through her closet, grabbing a coat, hat, scarf, and gloves. She got an extra of everything for Rowan except for the coat. Then Aelin pulled out one of her largest jackets, which happened to be neon pink, and held it beside Rowan’s towering figure. “Um, close enough?”

He sighed. “Better than freezing. I’ll take it.”

They walked down the stairs and outside. Aelin immediately started jumping around and squealing as she was pelted with snow.

“Who knew the fire-breathing bitch-queen turns into such a child in the snow?” Rowan was chuckling.

“Who doesn’t? Snow is fucking awesome.” Aelin grabbed Rowan’s arm and yanked him farther down the sidewalk and toward the park.

-

They spend the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening throwing snowballs and tackling each other into the snow. It was late when they entered Aelin’s apartment, took off their snow things, and ate a quick meal of pasta (neither could cook anything else). Finally, food was eaten.

“Rowan, darling,” Aelin purred.

“Yes?” he responded, a smirk on his face and an eyebrow quirked.

Aelin grinned. “It’s so cold. I was only wondering if you could be so kind as to warm me up?”

Rowan chuckled. “Anything for you, dear.” He hooked his arms under Aelin’s thighs and she instinctually wrapped her legs around his waist.

Aelin sucked on Rowan’s neck as he carried her to her bedroom. She felt satisfaction knowing it would definitely leave a mark.

Rowan placed her on the bed and climbed on top. Aelin smiled against his lips as he kissed her. “Not tonight,” she whispered, grabbing his hands before he could pull her pants off. Aelin then rolled over, pulling him with her. “I’m going to ride you tonight,” she breathed against Rowan’s neck. He let out a groan at the thought.

Rowan helped Aelin slide his sweatpants down, his underwear going with them, and he lifted his shirt off himself as Aelin stripped. Finally, they were both naked. Aelin leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom. She expertly rolled it onto Rowan. He gripped her thighs and she lowered herself onto him. They both let out a groan.

Aelin started rocking her hips, drawing more noises out of him. “Oh, Aelin,” Rowan moaned. “Aelin, I love you so much.”

“Everybody does, darlin’.” Rowan just growled and slammed his hips up to meet hers.

Aelin moaned loudly. “Oh, Ro.” She braced her hands on his shoulders and kept riding him.

She was soon climaxing. He flipped them over as she moaned his name. Rowan drove his hips into Aelin several times, hard. Before long, he also reached his peak, growling as he thrust into Aelin one last time.

They lay in a pile of tangled limbs, panting. “Fucking gods,” Aelin got out between breaths.

Rowan chuckled breathily. “Damn straight.”

-

Aelin woke up to darkness. She glanced over and checked her phone. 5:00 am.

“Rowan, wake up!” Aelin yelled.

He jolted. “What? Aelin, what’s wrong?”

She grinned at him. “It’s Christmas!”

Rowan frowned. “That’s all? No fire? No burglar?”

She frowned as well. “What’s wrong with you? It’s Christmas,” she repeated. Aelin climbed out of bed, wearing only a t-shirt she’d pulled on the night before. She dug through her drawers for a snowman shirt to change into, as well as pants and a pair of reindeer socks.

“What time is it?” Rowan grumbled.

“It’s five.” Aelin ignored his groan at this. “Which means it time to get up and celebrate.”

“I pity whoever raised you. You must have been even worse as a child. And it’s kind of hard to celebrate when it’s the early hours of the morning and I’m trying to sleep.”

Aelin scowled. “Whatever. I’m going to go make hot chocolate.”

-

She did indeed make hot chocolate. And sit by the window happily reading a book. By eight o’clock, Rowan shuffled into the kitchen.

Aelin grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

He snorted. “Merry Christmas, Aelin.” He came to where she sat and wrapped an arm around her. “I love you.”

Aelin hugged him back. “Me too, Ro.”

-

They had a few more hours to spend together before Aelin put on a pair of snow boots, grabbed her gift for Aedion, and tromped to his apartment.

“Why are you walking, Aelin?” he asked when she appeared on his doorstep. “Did you lose your car?”

“It’s Christmas, dear brother. It’s nice outside. And don’t even comment on my pajamas, they’re comfy.”

Aedion rolled his eyes at her and let her inside. Lysandra was sitting at the counter. She turned and grinned at Aelin. “Hey, Lin. Merry Christmas. I’ll leave you two to spend your sibling time together, but I have something for you first.”

Lys had gotten Aelin a box of chocolates, making her Aelin’s new favorite person. She in turn gave Lys an expensive lipstick Lysandra had been admiring a while ago, saying she had a feeling Lys might be here.

Hugs were exchanged, and then Lys went to a back room to give the siblings some space.

“Aed, you’re my favorite brother ever,” Aelin said, giving him a hug.

Aedion snorted. “Also your only brother, but I’ll take it.” He squeezed her back.

Aelin gifted him a pair of socks with little reindeers on them (to match her own socks), getting a new series of books in return. She was an avid reader, and loved adding to her collection. Aelin stayed for several hours, then said goodbye to him and Lysandra, who were shyly smiling at each other every time their eyes met. Good grief.

Finally, she made it back to her own apartment. Upon opening the door, Aelin was greeted with Christmas lights strung all along the walls and a minature plastic tree in the middle of the room. Aelin gasped. “Ohmigosh, Rowan, did you do this?”

He was leaning against the counter smirking. “No, it was the elves.”

Aelin walled over to him and punched him in the bicep. For once, he didn’t say ‘ow.’ They were making progress. He did complain, though. “Um, you’re welcome? Also, I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to do under mistletoe.”

Aelin looked up. Taped to the cabinet above him was indeed a strand of mistletoe. She rolled her eyes at his antics, then leaned forwards and placed a gentle kiss upon him lips. He tried to pull her in for more, but Aelin just backed away and said, “You’ll get the rest later. Now, I’m going to give you a present.”

She went to her room, put away her new books and candy, got a wrapped gift out from under her bed, and walked back into the living room. Rowan was waiting, a gift of his own on the counter next to him.

Grinning, Aelin handed him the present. He looked suspiciously at it, then unwrapped it.

And rolled his eyes at what was inside.

“I thought you needed to spice your wardrobe up a little,” Aelin said with a devious grin. He snorted, holding up the red sweater with a Christmas tree on the front. Actual minature lights were strung around the torso. They lit up when you pressed a button.

Rowan chuckled. “I love it.” He slung it on over his t-shirt and pressed the on switch. Suddenly, the light bulbs were glowing, making him look like he tripped and got tangled in a pile of Christmas lights.

He handed Aelin her present. She opened it to reveal a box of chocolates. Lys had given her the same thing, but there never was enough candy. She squealed.

Rowan smirked. “I take it you like it? Look inside.”

Curious, Aelin opened the lid to find... chocolates. And then seeing the custom order sticker on the lid she realized: “Rowan, you got me all my favorites! How did you even know which chocolates I like?”

He grinned. “Milk chocolate, pecan, almond, caramel. I’ve been paying attention. Also, the extra five dollars was worth not seeing you scowl at all of the assorted coconut.”

Aelin smiled. “They always put so many coconut candies in there and I hate them. They’re disgusting. Thank you so much, Ro. I’m warning you, though, they aren’t going to last very long.”

“I didn’t think they would,” Rowan said with a smirk. “I’ve seen you devour a large KitKat in seconds. I’ll admit, it was a little frightening.”

Aelin snorted. “I got you something else, too.” She pulled a smaller gift out of her pocket, wanting the extra one to be a surprise.

He opened it and pulled out an ornament with the inscription A + R. Aelin smiled nervously. “Perhaps a little presumptuous, but...”

Rowan looked up at Aelin and smiled widely. “Thank you, Aelin. It’s great.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. She tried to deepen the kiss, but Rowan pulled back and said, “You’ll get the rest later,” mocking her words from earlier.

Aelin tried to scowl, but it faded as Rowan walked over to the mini tree and carefully placed the ornament on a plastic branch. “Where exactly were you planning on putting this? You didn’t know I got you a tree.”

She grinned. “Planning that would have required forethought, which I do not have.”

Rowan snorted. “At least you admit it. I got you another present too.” He picked up a small box off the counter that Aelin hadn’t noticed before.

Aelin opened the box to find a necklace. She opened the locket on the end to see A + R. “We got the same inscription,” Aelin said, laughing. “It’s beautiful, Rowan.” She handed it to him and turned, pulling her hair over one shoulder.

She heard Rowan unclasp it and then he gently placed the necklace around her neck, clipping it in the back.

Aelin turned back around and lifted her hands to his face. “Merry Christmas, Rowan.”

He placed his hands on her waist and gazed lovingly into her eyes. “Merry Christmas.”

[undinoble]

Crazy long text ahead i warn you, just explaining some process I went through while drawing this Frank and Julie low light dying thingie, probably gonna drop some wips along the way, you may want to see… idk, dealer’s choice

!TRIGGER WARNING! Violence, death, suicide. Proceed with caution.

Well where do we begin? The inspiration maybe?

Exploring the magical world of Spotify when a band came in, one of the first songs (if not the first one) of theirs I heard was Partners in Crime by Set It Off, you know, love at first sight, love for their voices, their music style, aaand the lyrics, OH BOI the lyrics, check it out:

“You’ll never takes us alive We swore that death will do us part They’ll call our crimes a work of art You’ll never takes us alive We’ll live like spoiled royalty, lovers and partners”

Dunno, for two passionate juvenil delinquents that just wants trouble this line really fits to me, the dreamy couple feels invencible.

“Everybody freeze Nobody move Put the money in the bag Or we will shoot Empty out the vault And me and my doll will be on our way”

It’s actually interesting to think of the Legion robbing a bank, it’s not like troublesome teens didn’t do that in movies c’mon, it’s a small city, they wear masks, ez!

“Our paper faces flood the streets And if the heat comes close enough to burn Then we’ll play with fire ‘cause

You’ll never takes us alive”

THIS. This is so a Legion thing to say. Can you imagine their masks all around the streets as a warning like “HEY, WE ARE HERE, FEAR US” I love this

“Here we find our omnipotent outlaws Fall behind the grind tonight Left unaware that the lone store owner Won’t go down without a fight Where we gonna go He’s got us pinned Baby I’m a little scared Now, don’t you quit He’s sounded the alarm I hear the sirens closing in”

The second big moment, the adrenaline along with the instrumental is crazy for real

“The skies are black with lead-filled rain A morbid painting on display This is the night the young love died Buried at each others side”

THIS. (again) is the main theme of the drawing, it’s where the inspiration flood over me, the scene was clear in my mind, c’mon if you read till here there’s absolutely no reason not to listen to the song you won’t regret im not even getting payed to show it off

ACTUALLY FORGET IT- i just won a sub on Cody Carson’s stream WHAT IS LIFE??????? Thanks Max!!!

I totally didn’t draw this while listening to the music when i should be working what are you talking about??

Hold the sketch, focus on the gun. It’s dope aint it?

Anyways, here goes the lore, along with the music lyrics I filled up the gaps, well, Suz and Joey are not around, maybe doing school stuff Julie didn’t feel like doing so she decides to hang out with Frank in the meanwhile, they’re on the lodge, bored, upset about the world cause it’s what teens do in their free time, listening to one of their mixtapes, probably Frank’s, the more hardcore one when the idea hit: what if they try some good mischief? “There’s a small banks a mile from here, want some adrenaline babe?” And oh of course she does, grab your mask, here we go

Sorry, not a big legs-drawing fan…

They grab their knives, put on the masks, get ready, drive to the bank. I didnt really think this part through, the song says it all. Long story short - they rob the bank, the police arrives, the action begins.

They brought their knives, didn’t expect the cops to show up with guns, damn they didnt even know little Ormond cops had actual guns. After long minutes of hiding on the bank safe the couple decides to fight their way out, they would be more useful alive than dead so laws could apply, but that went out of question once Frank stabbed the first bank employee on his triumphal way out, the police don’t think twice before shooting to protect the citizens inside.

Frank and Julie have too little time to react, the stress and anxiety kicks in, they go feral, crazy cinematic bullet avoids, for a moment it’s possible to get away. It all happened too quick, but in Julie’s vision it went slow motion. She just saw a cop leaning behind a car, aiming directly at Frank, even her fastest reaction wasn’t fast enough to stop the trigger from popping. With tears in her eyes she watches as the bullet hits her boyfriend right in the chest. 

She snaps. One target in mind, she sprints to the cop and stabs him over and over until she’s sure he won’t see the sun set ever again. She takes his gun and rushes towards Frank who is kneeling against a taxi holding his torax, she screams that they must go to the hospital immediately but he refuses, hospital would be just a quick stop on his way to jail. No fucking way. 

He demands to go back to the lodge, the cops are too busy helping their wounded partner to look for them, they think Frank may be dropped dead somewhere on the street after multiple shots, the two of them must flee before the cops realize the mistake and go hunting for them. NOW.

Julie side-carries Frank back to their car, the lack of a license of her own won’t stop her from driving as fast as the car can. Breathing heavily while constantly telling Frank to hold on, they will find a way out, they must do. Oh what a fucking stupid idea holy SHIT. 

The travel takes half the time it usually does and still feels like hours. The car gets all red with Frank’s blood that keeps leaking. Once they arrive, Frank wants to go upstair, Julie shouts at him to keep next the central campfire once he should grab some heat (and for god’s sake why is he still carrying the money bag they stole????), anyway he gets the last word and they climb the stairs up and lay on the bed, Frank hisses from the pain but also sighs in relief for the soft spot under him, ignoring Julie cursing besides him, saying she can still call an ambulance, she doesnt want to lose him, Suz and Joey will be devastated, although he just replies with the phrase they were saying sooner that day “They’ll never take us alive”.

After 20 minutes of agony, low whispers of memories of how they met, what they had been through together and a huge amount of blood moisturing the covers, Frank says he’s feeling light-headed, Julie looks at him and he’s paper white, the blood loss is finally getting to him, she wants to cry, scream, curse and stab that damn cop a hundred times again, but all she does is cuddle her head harder against his shoulder and tell him she loves him, that she will keep his legacy alive, with Joey and Susie, she will revenge him. He chuckles and slowly feels the life being drained from his weaked body until everything goes black.

Julie need a few seconds to process. Frank died. For real. He was good a few hours ago, he was right. They would never take them alive. Death could do them apart, but, he never said for how long they would be apart.

She reaches for the gun on the hand under Frank’s body. THAT DAMN GUN. She aims it to the side of her head, never leaving Frank’s side on the bed. Triggers it.

“Partners in crime”

Damn did I just write a fucking fanfiction? This shit is way longer than I expected, did anybody even get down here?

Well, this is the part of the drawing where i left cause I just couldn’t afford to work on it, have in mind everytime the file were opened the whole lore came in my head, and fuck did i feel dizzy writing it all down. Hell the bloody details get me, seeing Frank so white with a blue undertone simulating the lifeless body gave me headaches fr. My escape was drawing other things until the courage to finish it came back. It was easier because the story kinda faded away from my mind, the drawing became “lighter” to deal with.

Well, guess that’s it. I hardly have this big insight while drawing, to visualize the finished piece on my brain and it’s just so fucking cool, making art with so many mixed feelings along, and overall pride, cause i feel so proud with the result you have no idea. It isn’t perfect tho, but i like it anyway. So, thank you so much if you made it all the way here. gonna sleep now for fucks sake im gonna pass out bye

[lyssismagical]

in my need, you have always been there

Parkner Week Day Ten: “We’re going to frame you for murder” / canon-compliant / villain au

okay i know I’m like eleven days late but I got busy oops but here we are! the last installment of parkner week !! 

 Keeping his family safe was his number one priority as soon as Beck had appeared all over the news, so he made sure Happy was with May, and that MJ was going home with plans to talk to Ned, and then he started running.

He didn’t have time to pack a bag, not with the citizens of New York turning against him. They knew his face, they were staring and jeering and throwing things, there was nowhere for him to hide so close to everything. So he boarded a bus, hood pulled low over his face and eyes downcast, empty-handed aside from his phone and his wallet.

And then he was on the run.

It sounded so dramatic, even in his head, to be on the run. Despite having particularly bad periods with money in the past, Peter had only ever technically been homeless once and it was only for three nights, living out of May’s old car.

Peter doesn’t have a plan. He doesn’t have a passport, he’d lost it somewhere in Europe a few weeks prior. He only has a few dollars on him. His wounds from Beck in Europe still haven’t entirely healed, he’s still limping and his shoulder twinges.

Most people he knows lives in New York, and he definitely can’t stay anywhere near the whole state. He’s only ever even left New York three times. DC for Academic Decathlon, Germany with the Avengers, and the Europe trip for school.

Now, he’s apparently moving out of New York, on his own, with no money.

“Last stop!” the bus driver calls out, looking over at Peter, the last one on the bus. He doesn’t know where he is, where he’s going,  anything. But he gets off the bus, onto a dark, empty street, and watches as the bus peels away from the sidewalk, leaving him.

He made it to New Jersey. Not far enough, not yet. He needs somewhere to hide away for a few weeks, at the very least, until Pepper can figure this whole thing out.

As if on cue, his phone rings.

He’s about to decline it, he doesn’t want to talk to anybody he just left behind. He definitely doesn’t want to talk to May or Ned who will try to change his mind about running away. But it’s not them, it’s an unknown number.

“Hello?” Peter says, voice trembling already. He’s cold and tired and the fear of spending the night somewhere on the streets makes him desperately want to call May, get her to come save him.

“Peter Parker, right?” the voice asks, no tell of who it is beyond the southern lilt to his voice. “We met a couple months ago. At the… At the funeral?”

The hero flinches harder than he’d like to admit at the reminder of who’s not here. If Tony were here, Peter wouldn’t have had to fight Beck on his own, his identity wouldn’t have been leaked, and most of all, he wouldn’t be on his own right now.

Peter doesn’t remember much from the funeral, most of it having blurred away through his grief. He thinks he can remember a pair of bright blue eyes and a hand on his shoulder from who must’ve been the guy on the phone, but he can’t place a name of fill in the missing gaps.

“Sorry, I-”

“Harley Keener,” the boy says, not even phased at being forgotten. “I was the kid who talked about a potato gun? It’s not important. What matters is I just saw you on the news.”

Peter would’ve thought the potato gun idea would’ve sparked some memory, but he really can’t remember anything from that day. He can barely even remember what he said, himself, so it’s a lost cause to remember one Harley Keener.

“Why does it matter?”

Harley lets out a little laugh, the sounds of traffic washing over it. “You’re running away, aren’t you? You have a place to go?”

“No,” Peter admits half-heartedly. He doesn’t have any kind of plan.

“Alright, well, if you need a place to stay, Rose Hill is full of people who don’t care enough to watch the news, and I’ve got a couch with your name on it,” Harley says, voice light and breezy.

Peter frowns, moving closer to the nearest alley to get away from the prying eyes of the last few people wandering the streets. He tucks his arms close to his body, ankle aching with the pressure on it. “Rose Hill?”

“Tennessee, my friend.” Harley laughs again, bright and easy. “You wanna come stay with me while this whole thing blows over?”

“In Tennessee?” Peter’s not exactly sure why he feels like he’s stuck in molasses, unable to comprehend the offer. “With you?”

“Wow, harsh much. Listen, I’m on my way to come pick you up and get you somewhere safe, but it’ll take me a good ten hours to make up the distance, even speeding down backroads. Is there anywhere near where you are you could stay for one night?”

Peter frowns, looking up and down the street at the empty darkness, nobody here would be willing to let a poor kid sleep on their couch, and he certainly doesn’t know anybody living in New Jersey aside from one of May’s old coworkers, Janet, who used to babysit for Peter before she moved. Even then, he has no idea where Janet is, nor does he have anyway to contact her.

“I’ll, uh, yeah, I can figure it out,” he says, though he doesn’t think there’s any options. If he has to, he can spend the night in the alley if it means having somewhere warm and safe when he wakes up. “Thank you, Harley, I don’t know how-”

“Don’t sweat it.” Harley swears a few times under his breath. “I’ve gotta stop for gas in a second. Text me where you are, I’ll be there as soon as I can, yeah? And call me if you need anything.”

Peter nods a few times, looking down his alleyway into the darkness and shivers. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Good.”

Harley doesn’t bother with pleasantries or goodbyes, just hangs up the phone.

Peter slips down the alley, phone tight in his hand, and finds a nice spot between two big dumpsters, wedging himself in and trying to mentally prepare himself for calling it a night. Ten hours. He can do ten hours here.

* He doesn’t manage to do more than drift off, not really sleeping, arms tucked around himself like he’s trying to be his own blanket.

He keeps half his attention on his watch, keeping count of how much time he has left, and leaving his phone off, not wanting to drain the battery.

There’s only three hours left when his phone rings again.

“I’m getting gas and snacks, I’m in Virginia. Just a few more hours until I’m there. Anything you want me to pick you up?”

Peter’s teeth are chattering so hard he can barely get out a few words. “Something warm?”

Harley curses a few times and then there’s the sound of coins hitting a counter. “Are you- Fucking hell, I thought you were going to stay with somebody? Are you outside?”

“Alley,” Peter says, shivers wracking his body. At least that’s a good thing. Through his hazy memory, he thinks shivering’s a good thing. It’ll be bad if he stops shivering.

“Shit, okay, you know it’s fucking freezing out, don’t you? What kind of- Okay, I’ll make it two hours, okay? Can you do two hours? I’ve got a few blankets in the back of my car and I’ll make sure to pick you up a nice hot coffee or something. Is that okay?”

Peter nearly drops his phone, fingers going numb. “Mm, ‘kay. Two hours.”

“Two hours, Peter. Gotta hang on until then, yeah?”

“Yeah… Also,” Peter almost forgets where he’s going with his train of thought. “Also, gummy bears.”

“Gummy bears?” Harley echoes and then he laughs, a touch hysterical. “I can get you gummy bears, Peter. Anything else?”

Peter thinks for a long moment, eyes slipping shut. “A hug?”

There’s a beat of silence followed by more cursing and then a door opening and closing. Harley’s voice is soft, though, when he speaks. “I’ll give you the warmest hug in the world when I get to you, okay?”

“’kay.”

“Good. Two hours, you hear me, Parker?”

“Two hours.”

* Despite already promising two hours for a nearly three hour trip, Harley makes it in an hour and a half.

Peter hears the truck engine and he knows he should get up, meet Harley on the sidewalk, at the very least, pry himself out for between the dumpsters, but his legs are numb, thoughts escaping him, so he stays put, listening for the telltale footsteps.

“Peter?” Harley spots him a second later, face drawing up in worry and fear. “Oh shit, Peter, come on. Let’s get you out of there. Come here.”

Harley seems to understand that Peter’s incapable of getting up on his own, so he does most of the work of pulling Peter up and onto his feet, and then letting Peter lean most of his weight against the southerner’s side.

“T’ank you,” Peter stutters still, shaking from head to toe but feet too numb to do more than drag on the pavement as Harley drags him over to his running truck.

The older boy lifts him into the passenger seat, barely blinking an eye as he tugs off his hoodie and yanks it over Peter’s head. He grabs a thick blanket from the backseat and wraps it around Peter’s shoulders and puts a second one over his legs.

“That good?” Harley asks nervously. He looks over at the steaming coffees waiting for them, but he doesn’t seem to trust Peter’s hands to carry one.

Peter shakes his head, carefully extracting his arms to reach out for the other boy. He’s too tired to feel embarrassed by the silent request, mouth pouting and eyes undoubtedly sad and pleading.

“Oh, come here,” Harley says, voice dripping with sympathy. He wraps Peter up in his arms, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. Just as promised, it’s the warmest hug in the world. “I would’ve left sooner if I’d known. Pepper only called me after you’d left and then I had to convince Mom to let you crash with us and to let me skip school tomorrow… Anyways, you’re safe now. Nobody’s going to find you in Rose Hill.”

The warmth of Harley’s arms around him, the gentle smell of coffee and gasoline, the promise of safety, it makes Peter feel safe and makes the shivers dissipate.

“Thank you,” he repeats, tucking his head against the crook of Harley’s neck, taking a slow breath.

Harley smiles gently, only pulling back when Peter loosens his grip, as though he’d hold Peter as long as he wanted to.

“I’ll take care of driving, you sleep and eat your gummy bears and drink your coffee. It’s another twelve hours till we get home.”

Peter frowns, enough of a mind to worry about Harley. “You don’t want to take a break? You’ll be driving like twenty-four hours total.”

“It’s cool, don’t you worry about me. I’ll stop if I have to.”

Harley finally slips away from him, closing the door and then climbing into the driver’s seat, gunning the engine and starting off on their journey back to Tennessee.

“I still can’t believe this happened,” Peter admits. His shoulder throbs where the seatbelt digs into his old wound. “I was framed for murder. I was painted as a villain. After everything he did to me, everything he pretended to be… I thought it’d be enough for him to try to kill me and all my friends, to hit me with a fucking train, to betray me like he did, but no. He had to make it public, out my identity, call me a fraud. I just- I don’t know how I’ll ever bounce back from this.”

“You haven’t been on social media, have you?” Peter was expecting it to be a bad thing, but Harley’s smiling. He shakes his head. “It’s trending everywhere. Things like Spider-Man’s-A-Hero or hashtag I-Stand-With-Spidey. People telling stories of everything you did for them, how much you’ve meant to them. There’s always going to be people who don’t like you, but there’s also people who know what you’ve done for New York and the world.”

Peter frowns, looking over at Harley. The angle makes his jaw look strong and sharp, but Peter chides himself for focusing on it. “People are standing with me?”

“Course they are,” Harley says like it’s obvious. He throws a smile in Peter’s direction. “You’ve spent, what? Three years? Working tirelessly to reduce crime, save people’s lives, even last year, you saved the world. Of course they’re standing with you.”

It’s the last piece of reassurance Peter needs to get comfortable in his seat, curling up tightly and pulling his hood up over his head, and finally letting himself fall asleep in the comfort of Harley’s truck.

* By the time they finally reach Rose Hill, it’s night again.

Harley’s yawning, fingers tapping against the wheel as they pull up onto a gravel driveway, engine cutting off.

“Home sweet home,” Harley murmurs, helping Peter unbuckle his seatbelt. “Come on, I’ll show you around real quick, you can get a shower, and then you can sleep, okay?”

Peter nods, hopping out of the car and checking, almost obsessively to make sure his phone and wallet are still tucked in his pockets. He lets Harley wrap his arm around his waist, letting himself fall lax in his grip, following Harley up to the house.

It’s warm in the house too, smelling of laundry and baking. There’s a girl curled up on the couch, watching what looks like an old sitcom on the TV. She looks up when they walk in, face falling into a frown.

“You were gone for over twenty-four hours, Harley,” she says, turning her nose up petulantly. “Mom was worried.”

“She’s been stress-baking?” Harley questions, but he shakes his head before the girl can answer. “Peter, this is my little sister, Abbie. Abbie, this is Peter. He’s staying here for a couple weeks.”

Abbie’s eyes narrow as she looks him over and he’s immediately self-conscious. He probably looks awful, he probably smells like garbage, he’s probably dirty.

But she shrugs and offers a smile. “Welcome to Rose Hill, Peter. Home of douchebags and failures. Good luck ever getting out.”

Harley rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue with her. He tightens his grip on Peter’s waist, leading him out of the living room, up the stairs, and into a bathroom.

Peter showers quickly, not sure how much he trusts his own legs to hold him up. And when he gets out, there’s a pile of Harley’s clothes waiting for him. The hoodie is much too big, falling over his shoulders and down to his thighs, covering his hands, and the pants aren’t much better, barely staying up on his hips, but they’re warm and they smell like Harley, and they make him feel safe.

Harley’s waiting for him in the bedroom across the hall, sprawled out on a bed, looking seconds away from passing out.

“Do you have a pillow?” Peter blurts before he can stop himself. “You said, uh, that I’d be staying on the couch, sorry. Was wondering if-”

“Honestly, I really don’t care if you’d wanna crash here with me,” Harley says, voice slurring with exhaustion. He kicks at a blanket near his foot. “There’s enough space for you. Plus, it gets cold downstairs at night, wouldn’t want you freezing to death again.”

Peter can feel the blush creeping up his neck, but he holds himself together as he silently accepts the invitation, slipping into the space left on the bed. He tugs the blanket up and over his shoulders, letting himself sink into the mattress.

The older boy is like a heater at his side, radiating warmth, eyes already closed, hair like a halo around his tan, freckled face. He peeks open one of his eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

Harley laughs, unashamedly tossing his arm around Peter’s waist, who immediately relaxes in his hold. “Just teasin’. Go to sleep. Mom will no doubt have me up and ready for school in less than five hours.”

Peter’s not exactly sure how living in Tennessee is going to work out, he doesn’t know how long it’ll take until everything blows over, he doesn’t know how long it’ll be until he can say May and Ned and MJ again.

But he knows one thing.

He really likes staying here with Harley and he knows Harley will keep him safe and happy until he can return to New York.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spidey-reids-2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed  @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[sserpente]

24 little kinks | Door 1 🎄

“You remember that chocolate advent calendar I got you for December?”

“I do,” he chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “You made me display it in the kitchen so I would not eat it all at once.”

Your smile widened. “How about we get another one?”

Loki raised an eyebrow, only now paying proper attention to the sex toy ad. Then, he frowned. It was an odd mixture of disgust, genuine curiosity and even a hint of arousal flashing in his blue eyes.

A/N: It’s that wonderful time of the year again! Oh, I’m looking forward to mulled wine, biscuits, Christmas songs and decorations... I received all of your requests and my lovelies, I think you’ll be in for a treat. Here’s to the first “door” of my Christmas special. Enjoy, everyone! ♥

“Loki?”

You were leaning against him on the sofa, in midst of your dimly lit living room. A blanket was draped over the both of you, keeping you from freezing. Winter had knocked on the doors sooner than you would have liked, still, when you looked out of the window and lost yourself in the countless white snowflakes fluttering to the ground, you felt yourself slipping into a cheerful Christmas mood.

It was the first time you would be spending the holidays not only with a boyfriend but also none other than Loki himself. Up to this day, after so many months of spending time together, saving each other’s life on missions and giving up sleep night after night to talk for hours on end, you wondered just what you had done to catch the God of Mischief’s attention—how he, out of all people within the nine realms, had fallen for a young mortal woman such as yourself.

You smiled at remembering how gauche and downright timid he had acted around you as soon as he had realised he was developing romantic feelings for you. Loki had been torn between his dominance and superiority and gentle and respectful courting. And while you had been wondering how a powerful and intelligent god such as him could possibly take an interest in you, he had been worried you would reject him because of his past actions in New York.

Here you were now, cuddling on the sofa and watching Christmas films together. There were a lot of things you wanted to introduce the Norse God to. From taking him sledding and ice skating (both at which he was exceptionally good and skilful) all the way to baking biscuits and mince pies and the infamous mistletoe, your heart warmed at the thought of taking his mind off things.

The Avengers had accepted him as part of the team solely because they had not wished to draw Thor’s wrath upon them but even the God of Thunder did not treat Loki like the brother he should. Too many things had changed and Loki was lonely, haunted by his own demons and ghosts of the past.

You were lucky, beyond lucky to have been blessed with this wonderful man. Loki was so much more than he let on. It had taken him months to open up to you but when he did, you got to see his vulnerable heart. He was good. Loki was good, deeply misunderstood and alone. Christmas was the perfect time to show him you were with him and that all hell would have to break loose to separate you two.

The bright light of a Christmassy ad interrupting the film reflected on your faces, making Loki even paler than he normally was. It was an ad for an advent calendar. You had explained to him the concept and even bought him a chocolate calendar all to himself. Loki was confused at first he couldn’t simply open all of the little doors at once but then begun to like the idea.

Only the advent calendar in the ad was a little different; very different, in fact. The mischievous smile spreading on your lips spoke volumes. This advent calendar… contained sex toys—one for each day all the way until Christmas. It was expensive. Two hundred dollars would make your wallet cry but if you simply considered it an early Christmas present for the both of you, surely it could live with that.

Eventually, Loki hummed in response. He had grown so fond of those Christmas movies with a happy ending guarantee the ads made him a little grumpy. He usually never paid any attention to them but you would make sure that today he would.

“You remember that chocolate advent calendar I got you for December?”

“I do,” he chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “You made me display it in the kitchen so I would not eat it all at once.”

Your smile widened. “How about we get another one?”

Loki raised an eyebrow, only now paying proper attention to the sex toy ad. Then, he frowned. It was an odd mixture of disgust, genuine curiosity and even a hint of arousal flashing in his blue eyes.

“I hardly need… toys to satisfy your needs, neither do you need any to satisfy mine. You are not… unchallenged when we are in bed together, are you, sweet one? Because I can ensure you, I can change that in a heartbeat…” His cool lips brushed against your neck, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps on your sensitive skin.

“No… of course not… but experimenting with sex toys can be a lot of fun?”

You almost giggled to yourself despite your growing excitement. You had never actually taken Loki to a sex shop. That should be really interesting; and besides, you had been imagining him tying you up and blindfolding you countless times already. The God of Mischief made no secret out of his dominance, hunger and godly stamina in bed and he had not just once forced you into so many orgasms you had nearly passed out from all the breath-taking pleasure. So why not take it up a notch?

“You intend to buy an advent calendar full of… sex toys for us?” He repeated with raised eyebrows. You could tell he was beginning to like the idea—and what he could do to you, how he could tease you with all the things in this… naughty advent calendar.

You could practically feel him slowly changing his mind, arousal radiating off of him and making you squirm a little in joyful anticipation.

Finally, he sighed, an amused but cheeky smirk playing on his lips. “Very well. Where do we acquire this calendar?”

-

Loki's expression was unreadable when you entered the sex shop. From the outside, it looked like a regular store. No toy advertising or obscene pictures whatsoever. When you stepped inside, however, the both of you were greeted by an almost naked harlequin wearing a leather harness and crotchless black panties. The smallest of frowns formed on his forehead, yet you did not fail to notice how his blue eyes widened a little upon seeing the naughty excuse for underwear. You knew without asking he was imagining you wearing those pieces of fabric instead of the lifeless doll before you.

“So? Where do we get the calendar?”

“They should be close by, I'll ask a clerk. You can have a look around in the meantime, if you like. Perhaps you'll find something you like.” You winked at him, excitement flooding your veins. Those were going to be twenty-four really interesting days. You honestly couldn't wait.

“Excuse me...” Loki sighed when you turned away from him, instead directing his attention to the shelf before him. He found the same kind of underwear the harlequin was wearing, along with other naughty lingerie in various colours and accessories... a package titled “nipple stickers” among them. Tilting his head intrigued, he reached for them. They were round and green, glittering, and he quickly figured out what they were for. He grinned to himself, then at you once you returned to him.

“Your grin looks promising. What have you... oh. Oh, I like those. Should we get them?”

“I might be on the verge of changing my mind about this advent calendar idea of yours.” He grabbed another package--two green pairs of crotchless panties.

“I expect you to wear those for me on Christmas Eve.”

“Do you now?” You bit your lower lip. You knew very well about the impact you made on Loki’s loins and you loved teasing him until he pounced on you like a predator. Still, most of the time, Loki was in charge. You trusted him unconditionally—and you believed that turned him on more than anything else. Besides, your trust was always rewarded—with countless orgasms and so much pleasure you had forgotten your own name before, Loki’s on your lips as you came again and again and again...

Loki glanced down at you with both amusement and lust sparkling in his blue eyes, making you blink. He knew where your thoughts had trailed off to.

“T-the calendars are over there.” Swallowing thickly, you led him there, knowing that if you weren’t out in public, he would have ripped your clothes off of your body already.

“That is a lot of money, is it not?” He said when you picked one up. It was rather heavy, about have as big as you.

“I have got the feeling it's gonna be worth it.”

Once again, Loki tilted his head, his gaze focusing on the shelf above the calendars. He frowned yet again.

“What is a... cock ring?”

You giggled to yourself. He'd find out soon enough for sure.

-

The 1st of December couldn’t come fast enough. Your purchases lay hidden in a plain black plastic bag behind the door and they remained there until you had decorated your flat for the festive season. On Saturday night, you finally unpacked it, the mere thought of it already wetting your knickers. You displayed it on the desk, grateful for the fact you were no longer living in the compound with the other Avengers who could accidentally bump into your room unannounced and thus spotting your naughty purchase. It wasn’t a secret you were dating Loki after all. They weren’t exactly fond of it but you couldn’t care less. Loki was amazing.

The God of Mischief was up before you on Sunday morning. He woke you with chaste kisses all over your face, making you giggle when your eyes fluttered open to lock with his. He could be so gentle and vulnerable and sweet all at the same time your heart regularly skipped a beat in the mornings.

“Good morning, my sweet…” His sleepy, velvety and a little rough voice sent pleasant shivers up and down your spine… and tingles right between your legs. His tone was suggestive. He could barely wait but neither could you. You had not read which toys the calendar contained. All you knew was that it was intended for sexy times for couples.

You giggled at him, burying your face in your pillow. “Go on then, open the first door.” He heaved himself out of bed all the while you tried your best to wake up properly before he returned with the first box. There were twenty-four in total, some of them a lot bigger than others. You couldn’t wait to find out what was inside all of them.

“Admit it. You’re about as excited about this as me.”

“I admit it,” he said with a mischievous wink. “I am.” And with that, he gently opened the box in his hands. It was rather small but the content did not disappoint. It was condoms. Three condoms wrapped in festive red paper with green stripes. The black letters on it read Gingerbread. Those were gingerbread flavoured condoms. A wicked grin spread on your lips. It was time for breakfast anyway.

“What are those?” Loki asked with genuine interest, wondering what naughty things you could do with them as he returned to you and laid back down.

“You remember when I told you about how we prevent pregnancy here on Earth?”

“Condoms and pills, mainly.” He concluded. You nodded.

“Those aren’t normal condoms though…” One of your hands wandered under the covers, reaching for Loki’s already semi-hard cock and giving it a few teasing strokes, eliciting a stifled moan from him. “They’re gingerbread flavoured.”

He smirked when realisation hit him. “You mean to ravish me for breakfast then, I presume? Oh, I do like the idea of opening one of these… naughty boxes every day now.”

Hungrily, you ripped one of the festively packaged condoms open with your teeth. The smell wasn’t the most enticing, the taste, however, indeed promising.

And even though Loki was a little suspicious of you rolling a thin piece of latex over his erect member, he quickly grew fond of the idea as he watched you freeing him from his trousers as if you were slowly unwrapping a present and then made him lean back to ‘enjoy the show’. You would show him now spending more than two-hundred dollars on an advent calendar was paying off—it was paying off in this very moment.

The God of Mischief hissed when your fingertips came in contact with his hard length. You licked your lips in joyful anticipation, ready to devour and pamper him. Taking your time, you wrapped your lips around his tip, your tongue darting out to taste his slit. Instantly, the flavour of gingerbread sent your taste buds to heaven. It felt like digging into a particularly delicious meal.

Inch by inch, you slid him into your mouth, taking as much as you could without gagging and causing Loki to throw his head back in pure bliss. He soon grabbed a fistful of your hair to control your movements along with your own hungry licking, your innocent eyes meeting his in such a depraved manner he gnashed his teeth not to spurt his cum into that questionable condom instantly.

Moaning with relish and by that, teasing him with gentle vibrations, you suckled on the tip and circled him slowly. You could tell he was getting close. Again and again, Loki would buck his hips up to thrust into your mouth, deeper each time until he started guiding your head to get to the pace he wanted. His breathing quickened—he came undone the moment your eyes met again, your pupils wide from arousal and desire.

Twitching and jerking inside your mouth, he released himself into the gingerbread flavoured condom with an animalistic groan, his fingers buried in your hair. Surely, his seed would taste even better than your first advent calendar surprise… but with Loki, there was always an encore anyway.

Panting a little, you pulled away from him, removing the condom before he softened and tossing it out of bed carelessly. There would be enough time to clean up later. Then, you crawled back up to him, practically lying down on his chest and sighing when he wrapped an arm around your naked waist. For a few peaceful seconds, you simply listened to each other’s heartbeat, bathing in the afterglow.

“Don’t forget to open your chocolate advent calendar too.” You mused after a while, your voice all high-pitched because his hand sneaked between your legs in just that moment.

Loki smirked. “Oh, I will not. But I believe at first, it is your turn. You are positively dripping for me, my sweet (Y/N).”

-

A/N: Door 2 will be opened tomorrow, on December 2nd!

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[thiswasinevitableid]

#56, OT4, NSFW if possible. Thank you for providing Winter-y cheer for us all!

You’re welcome! And this is indeed NSFW

56. my little sibling/cousin makes me sit on santa’s lap and when santa asks me what I want for christmas, I blurt “someone to love” and you’re the cute elf that overhears (or I blurt ….[insert here]) 

He’s exhausted, but he promised he’d take his cousins to see Santa after work while his aunt does some shopping. As is traditional, half the Newton family is already in town, even though it’s three and a half weeks until Christmas. 

Dove and Robin each take their turns, and then insist in that terrifyingly forceful way of six year olds that Duck do so as well. Given he nearly blew it last year when they asked him if Santa was real, he decides he should play along. At least he changed out of his work uniform first so fewer of the other mall employees will recognize him as a twenty-three year old man sitting on Santa’s lap.

“And what would you like for Christmas, young man?”

“Ned, please, make this easy” he hisses at the man playing Santa. 

“Well, then, answer the question dear boy.”

“I, uh, I really want…”

He can’t lie and say something bland, and the only thing he’s really hoping for this winter is-

“I want to get laid.”

He regrets the words and all of his life choices as Ned booms out a laugh. His cousins are too busy studying the toys strewn about the room to hear, so he counts that as his luck for the day, takes their hands, and hurries off into the mall.

------------------------------------

“He really said that?” Barclay looks back at Stern as he restocks cookbooks.

“Yes. I was photo elf today so he didn’t see me cracking up.”

“Don’t know why they hide their cutest elf away like that.”

“Because I’m tall.” 

Barclay turns, glances around to be sure no one is watching, and kisses his cheek. 

“Nah, you’re perfect.”

He blushes; even after nine months of dating, Barclay has a way of acting as if he’s in a perpetual state of falling for him. 

“What did the guy look like?”

“On the shorter side, and his eyes where two different colors. Works at R.E.I.” It’s his best attempt to protect Duck’s dignity.

A conspiratorial smile crosses his boyfriends face, “Keep an eye out for my manager for a sec, babe?”

“Of course. What are you doing?”

“Matchmaking. I hope.”

-------------------------------------

Duck’s on duty in the tent and sleeping bag area when Indrid Cold appears. Indrid works at the tattoo shop across the way, and has a habit of taking lunch the same time Duck does, sitting on a metal bench and trying to draw. The mall gets crowded and loud around then, and two months ago Duck started sneaking him into a back corner of the store so he can have lunch in peace. Indrid, a few years his senior, with his tongue piercing and tattoos, the ratty black pants and various tank-tops that show off a skinny frame Duck would love to get his hands on, is the kind of guy Duck would’ve had a crush on.

Now, Indrid is the kind of guy who makes him so hard he does embarrassing-ass things like say “I need to get laid” in front of his cousins.

Indrid leans his shoulder on the wall, grinning, red glasses making him resemble the mothman tattoo on his right arm. 

“Howdy, sir, got questions about the tents?” Duck smirks. 

“Indeed. Which one is best for sex?”

Duck barks out a laugh, claps a hand over his mouth when a nearby shopper gives him a funny look. 

“Any that ain’t a one-person deal. That your way of tellin me you got a hot date tonight?”

“I might” Indrid peers of the rims of his glasses, “a little bird told me you had a rather, ah, explicit Christmas wish.”

“Aw fuck, who even heard me othern’n Ned?” 

“I suspect it was Joseph. Poor man is stuck being an elf, and it was Barclay who texted me the hint.”

“Ughhhhwait-” Duck stares at him, “you came over here to ask me if, uh, if I wanted to, uh-”

“Yes. Oh dear, was my innuendo unclear? Or was it not even an innuendo?”

Duck has him against the wall in two steps, not touching him but bringing his mouth up to growl in his ear

“Your place, sugar?”

“I get off at seven.”

“Won’t be the only time you get off, I gauran-goddamn-tee it.”

----------------------------------

Indrid’s grip is flatteringly eager as he pins Duck to the door of his trailer.

“Damn, sugar, didn’t know you wanted me that badAhnnnnnohfuckyeah.” He rolls his hips as Indrid yanks his collar down to set hickeys in his skin.

“I have though you were attractive from the moment I saw you, and have wanted to fuck you since that time you made yourself laugh so hard you nearly snorted soda out of your nose.”

“Kinky.” 

“I meant” Indrid grabs and shoves and guides him across the floor, “that the moment I saw that smile I wanted to see what other smiles I could draw from you.” The kiss is a counterpoint the heated touches, so gentle and sincere Duck changes course.

“Fuck it” he hops up onto the kitchen table, discarded illustrations crunching under him, “I can’t wait anymore, you’re so fuckin cute, all fuckin romantic and shit.” He pulls him down into another kiss, groans as clever fingers undo his pants. Duck shifts as Indrid gets them mostly down, refusing to break the kiss all the while. The wire of the taller man’s glasses bumps his skin, and he finally gives in, pulling away so he can guide them off Indrid’s face. 

“I’d very much like to touch.” Indrid’s fingers are tense, poised on Duck’s thighs. He looks shyer without the glasses, almost virginal, which is fucking remarkable for a guy who came onto him in broad daylight. 

“Touch whatever you like, sugar, long as you let me do it back.”

“Gladly. I, ah, that is, should I stay on the outside?” 

He thinks, trying to sty a step ahead of his own brain to see if this is a day where penetration might set it off. 

“This time, yeah.” Duck hooks his legs round Indrids, keeping them close. 

“Does...that mean there might be a next time?” Indrid is gnawing his chapped bottom lip.

Duck waits for him to meet his eyes, then nods so Indrid can know what comes next is pure teasing. 

“Depends on how well you doOHfuck, ‘Drid, that’s it sugar, c’mon, jack me off.” He grinds his hips, Indrid experimenting with different movements, grinning every time Duck moans. 

“Touch me, please, Duck, I want you, want you so much.”

It takes a few seconds of fumbling and two muttered “fucks” before he gets Indrid’s pants undone enough to get his hand around his cock. A tattoo peeks out over either hip, and Duck decides his new plan for the winter is to discover every inch of Indrid’s skin with his mouth and hands. 

There’s a whine as Indrid buries his face into Duck’s shoulder, working him harder as Duck’s fingers go slick with pre-cum. 

“I, I am not going to last very long, wanted this too long, too much”

“Then cum for me, sugar.” He picks up the pace and in four strokes discovers Indrid isn’t kidding, the silver-haired man cumming down his hand. 

“D-don’t stop, don’t stop until I’ve made you cum. AH, ahnnnyes, yes” Indrid squirms with a delighted smile.

“You like that? Knowin I’m gonna wring you dry unless you get me off?” 

“Yes!”

“Fuck, you’re so fuckin needy, you’ll even take me bein rough just so you can fuck me.” He gives up on being gentle, moans when this makes Indrid find just the right pressure and speed. When he cums he let’s go of his cock, uses both hands to drag Indrid into a kiss and feels him shuddering with pleased little sounds. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” He slumps back on his elbows as Indrid drops into a chair, forehead resting on the table “shoulda opened my big mouth in front of Joe sooner.”

“Mmmhmm” Indrid bumps his arm with his nose. Then he cracks his eyes open, the shyness back full-force, “if, ah, if you need to get home I understand but, ah, I was wondering if you’d like to stay awhile?”

“Told my folks I’d be out late. You anglin to cuddle and steal my body heat?”

“Maybe.” A kiss to his arm now, Indrid gazing at him adoringly. 

“Then I’m gonna snuggle the hell out of you.”

Soon they’re nestled under the covers of Indrid’s bed, watching the Repair Shop and talking, Duck’s head on Indrid’s chest. 

“Kinda funny that our exes set us up, ain’t it?”

“You consider Joseph an ex?”

“Kinda? Sounds better than “friend I fucked a few times Freshman year of college.”

���True. I must admit, the thought does make me wish I’d been a fly on the wall.” Indrid freezes as soon as the sentence hits the air, “ah, that’s, I apologize, that just sort of came out.”

“No harm done.” Duck kisses the top of his head, ignoring the ideas conjured up by the admission. Why stick to Indrid watching when he could be involved? And he bets Indrid goes full-on tease with Barclay, something he’d love to see, and there is definitely a recurring fantasy of fucking Joe from behind while someone else came down his throat….

Later. He can think about those things later. Right now, he’s utterly content and happy to focus on the lilting voice rambling about art restoration and the bony hand holding his own. 

------------------------------------------

A side benefit of Duck and Indrid getting together is that they can now go on double-dates with himself and Barclay. Or, as Joseph is starting to call them “put all three men he’s attracted to in a room to see if he cracks” dates. He honestly didn’t mean for it to become that, but the more time they all spend together, the less he can deny the wish that it was just one, four-person date. 

His feelings for Barclay are self-explanatory; he’s his boyfriend of nearly a year who, among other things, treats eating him out as something akin to a religious experience. Indrid, he now understands, plays at his long-running interest in the strange and unusual. The fact his intriguing exterior hides someone a little awkward and very well meaning makes it all the better.

And then there’s Duck. They’d hooked-up a few times in college, when Joseph was newly out as trans, and being with someone who wasn’t weird about it had been the icing on the beefcake (a phrase he used once and made Duck laugh and fall off the bed). Duck has only gotten better with age and, looking at his strong arms and rounded face, the ass he wants to sink his fingers into, Joseph understands that the awe he felt whenever Duck was naked wasn't solely to do with the newness of the act. If ever there was a body to be worshiped, it’s Duck’s.

So, yeah, he’s had a lot to think about while listening to parents art director their children for their picture with Santa. 

Tonights “double date” is a little odd. He and Barclay are each getting a small tattoo (not matching, he’s too sure that’s a way to jinx things) courtesy of Indrid, with Duck tagging along so they can all go to dinner after. Barclay is the last client of the day, and Indrid’s boss locked the four of them in with a reminder to Indrid to arm the alarm when he leaves. Duck flips through magazines as Joseph reads off Buzzfeed Unsolved conspiracy theories for his entertainment. 

“You should do one of those shows. You got that whole nerdy but stylish thing going for you.”

“Duck, my work uniform is an elf costume.”

“But the rest of the time you look like Special Agent Cooper.”

He blushes, “Special Intern Stern is more like it.”

“You’re gettin there, city mouse.”

He looks up at the old pet name, just in time to see Duck throw an Adbusters up as cover and start talking about the image he’s staring out. Joseph lets him. For now. 

--------------------------------------

“There. A safely wrapped present to yourself.” Indrid double-checks the bandage on Barclay’s upper arm. 

“Thanks, man. Can’t wait to see what it looks like all healed. Sure it’s gonna look fucking great.” Barclay still sounds a little shaky from the adrenaline. 

Indrid allows himself a burst of pride that his friend thinks so highly of his work, “I just need to clean up and then we can be on our way.”

Barclay gives an affirmative grunt, staying in his chair. There’s a spike of fear in Indrid’s stomach; did he do something wrong? Is Barclay about to pass out?

Circling the chair to check replaces the fear with pure, skin-prickling lust. 

“My, my, is this why you’ve waited so long to get a tattoo?” 

Barclay whines, shaking his head, his eyes shut and his cock pitching an obscene tent in his jeans. 

“Are you lying?”

“N-no. I, uh, I mean I like pain, but I didn’t think this would happen.”

“That’s a new development.” Indrid leans against his workbench, enjoying the view. 

“Joseph and I have been trying out a bunch of things, figuring out what we like.”

“How very methodical. And unfortunate; if memory serves, once you get wound up it takes time for you to unwind.”

“Indrid please” Barclay’s gritting his teeth. Indrid’s remembering just how fun it is to have such a big man wrapped around his finger. 

“Please what?” He cocks his head.

“I, fuck, I dunno, talk about weird morbid shit. Disasters. Anything that will make it go down.”

A sinful image enters his mind, unshakeable in it’s appeal. 

“I can do you one better. Joseph? Would you come here? I need your help.”

Barclay’s eyes snap open, Indrid grinning at the excitement in them. 

“Is everything alright?” Joseph steps through the door, Duck poking his head in worriedly after him. 

Indrid points to Barclays cock, “I have to clean up, and that needs to be seen to.”

“And you want me to, um, see to it with you two in the room?”

“Only if you are both comfortable-”

“Yes” Barclay and Joseph say it at the same time, the dark haired man crossing the floor and dropping to his knees in front of his boyfriend.

“Should I, uh?” Duck glances between the three. So polite, even when Indrid can see the flush spreading up his skin from here. 

“Please stay.” Joseph is panting, in spite of only now getting Barclay’s zipper down. 

“Barclay?”

“Fine by me, man. Long as you know I’m gonna fuck your boyfriend into the floor for fucking with me like this.”

“That I’d like to see.” Duck shuts the door, grabbing Indrid’s chair so he can sit.

“There is one caveat, sweetheart; you are not allowed to cum right now. I promise I’ll show you new ways of being rough with me if you do.”

“You drive a hard bargain, sugar.”

“No fucking kidding, maybe you should get to fuck him before me since he’s being so meEEan, fuck, yes babe, goddamn I love your mouth.” Barclay arches in the chair as Joseph sucks him off. Indrid’s own cock perks up at the sight, becomes insistent as he turns his back and cleans to the sound of Barclay growling profanity in time with the wet sound of his cock defiling Joseph’s throat. 

He gets things cleaned and in order as fast as his rapidly dwindling focus will let him, turns back to see Barclay whimpering as Joseph kisses and licks along his shaft. Duck is still seated, rubbing his thighs together as he watches them, hands digging into the faux-leather seat. Indrid supposes he should scold him for stimulating himself, but he looks so very handsome right now.

Instead, he strides over to the pair in his client seat and fists his hand into Josephs hair, gelled strands breaking free in his fingers as he guides his mouth back over Barclay’s thick cockhead.

“We do not have all night, pet. So get to it Snap twice if it needs to stop.” He pushes him down by his hair until Barclay’s pressing the back of his throat, then yanks him almost all the way up. Joseph moans steadily, blue eyes darting between him and Barclay beneath black lashes as Indrid forces him up and down. 

“Fuck, babe, you look so fucking good on your knees, taking my cock like a good boy.”

“Ahem.” Indrid manages to look stern. Barclay is just able to tilt his head up enough for Indrid to dip down and kiss his full lips.

“Thank you, baby, thank you for letting me get offAHshitshit.”

“Close, dearest?”

“Uhuh, socloseohfuck”

“Do you want to cum down his throat?”

“So bad, Indrid, please.”

“You heard him, pet.” He holds Joseph’s head down, pre-cum thoroughly staining his pants as Barclay jerks up and Joseph frantically gulps him down. He brings his head up without warning, gathering the stray droplets of cum from his lips and fucking them into his mouth with his fingers.

“Good boy.” He purrs and Joseph whimpers happily. 

He looks at Duck, and for a moment he’s terrified he went too far, ignored him for too long. His boyfriend’s eyes are wide and dark, locked onto where Joseph is still eagerly sucking his fingers. Slowly, his gaze drags up to Indrid, crooked smile blossoming as it does. 

“Indrid Cold, you’re a fuckin genius, and I am gonna fuck you into next week.”

---------------------------------

It’s not next week, but it is ten at night and Indrid is being fucked well into it. 

They’re at Joseph’s apartment, his lack of roommates giving them optimal privacy, and Indrid is on his back on the tidily made bed. Barclay fucks him hard, grunting out thank yous for the privilege, which Indrid would reward with praise were his mouth not currently occupied with Duck riding his face. Joseph is near his head as well, having cum earlier via Barclay’s tongue (“this one of the best goddamn things in the world and I’m gonna show you two how to do it right”) and now rapturously groping Duck. Indrid can’t quite hear all the praise he’s directing at Duck’s body, but he’s going to hazard a guess he agrees with the statements.

“Can, fuck, can one of you make him cum? Wanna feel this demanding little ass tighten.”

“On it.” Joseph grips his cock and oh, no wonder Barclay looks so blissful most days. The man gives masterful handjobs and Indrid cums hard, whimpering when neither Duck nor Barclay lets up. The base of Barclay’s cock thuds against his ass so hard he’s wondering if that part of him can bruise, and Joseph switches his attention to Indrid’s nipple piercings, toying with him just like Duck demonstrated, Indrid squeaking as he sucks Duck’s dick. 

There’s a groan as Barclay cums, working himself through it in Indrid’s increasingly sensitive ass while Duck cums on his face, petting his hair as his hips jerk. 

When he’s finally able to sit up, it’s to a portrait of tender debauchery. Barclays head is on his stomach, his beard and hair a royal mess that Joseph is gently stroking down to some semblance of order. Duck is snuggled up beside him, kissing his shoulders and holding Indrid’s hand. 

“That was, um, something.” Joseph murmurs. 

“A whole hell of a lot of somethin.” Duck opens his free arm so Indrid can nestle against him, Barclay shifting to put his head onto Joseph's thigh. 

“Is it...something we wish to happen again?” Indrid’s nerves creep back up.

“Hell yeah.”

“Yes.”

“Yep.”

“Thank goodness. I. Ah. I am realizing I am fond of all three of you and, ah, very attracted to all three of you as well.”

“We should lay out some ground rules, right?” 

Barclay’s stomach growls, “For sure, babe. But can we please get dinner while we do? I’m gonna start eating the strap on. 

“You better not, that one was expensive.”

They clean up themselves and the room, frequent kisses prolonging the process. As Barclay orders pizza and Indrid starts water for tea, Joseph loops an arm around Duck’s shoulders.

“We should get you to blurt out Christmas wishes more often.”

“You got a deal. Just, next time, not in front of Ned.”