#and insists on paying the EXACT right amount

[spoonmoment87]

what is snapchat

[cissyenthusiast010155]

My Kind of Crazy ~Young!Morissa feat. Fem!Professor!Reader

This is a Morissa Fic collab with @v3nusxsky with the Sex Pollen troupe!! Basically, the tension between Morissa grows and Reader is the Professor who finally snaps and confronts them. This was so much fun to write with you, darling 💋 Hope you all enjoy!

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, sex pollen, smut, angst, drugging, gagging, kissing, fighting, tension, fingering, eating out, mentioned masturbation, face sitting, feeling confessions, etc.

Enjoy (;

A new school year at Nevermore always brought a new wave of student drama. You were the botany professor, having specialized in magical herbs & plants as well as herbology history. For the most part, you greatly enjoyed your job. You spent most of your time in lessons and then grading papers. But this year had brought an interesting love triangle of student drama…

Morticia Frump, Gomez Addams, & Larissa Weems…

You found Morticia to be an average student, although by no means was she an average teenager… Not fully devoted to her work, but certainly not dumb. She was polite for the most part, and quite the socialite. And she most definitely had a darker, cruel streak in her at times, especially towards other students…

Gomez was a harmless fly. His sights were on Morticia and Morticia only. The only mean bone in his body was when someone threatened his hold over Morticia. You didn’t pick on him in class or anything, because he’d genuinely not be paying attention.

And then there was Larissa Weems. She was also an odd ball… (I mean for a school of outcasts, you wouldn’t expect any less…) But Larissa was different. She was a strict rule follower. She was obedient, reserved, a people pleaser. She also had the occasional attention seeking streak, although with her appearance, the poor girl couldn’t really help it…

And boy how the three of them could divert a lesson… At one point, you were discussing how the Black Death was actually spread by flower pollen (hence the flower, The Black Death) instead of rats, and the next, Gomez and Larissa are in a screaming match. Standing up from their chairs, Larissa berating Gomez for all his PDA violations with Morticia, and Gomez going loco right back at the blonde. And poor Morticia was caught in the middle of it.

You did your best to settle and diffuse all arguments, but lately they were getting more and more out of hand… It came to a point where you had to have conversations with each of the three. And even that didn’t stop the insistent fighting.

So in you’re moment of need, you turned to the Principal. Who disgusted you. He was a sexist prick whom you avoided at all costs. But the ends in this case had to justify the means. This feud needed to be settled. After having a chat with the Principal, the three were called into his office. You stood in the corner, watching the events unfold in front of you. Of course, he blamed it all on Larissa and Morticia…”Morticia Frump was an attention seeking slut who only caused trouble” and “Larissa Weems was an ungrateful brat who was constantly stepping out of line.” Of course, he didn't use those exact words, but he was pretty damn close…

It boiled your blood. And ended up solving nothing. Although the encounter wasn’t entirely useles… During the meeting, you picked up the amount of longing glances Larissa threw Morticia. And the amount of flickering glances that Morticia sent back. The blushes the two girls held towards each other. The scowl Larissa held for Gomez. The look of sadness Morticia held for Gomez. This put things in a new perspective: Morticia wanted Larissa as much as Larissa wanted Morticia. It all made sense now.

But neither of the two would do anything about it. Not Morticia with her strict upbringing and expectations. And not Larissa with her tendency to either be extremely shy or just straight up fight with Gomez and miss the point entirely. No, you decided that you had to do something. And this case, the ends most definitely and absolutely justified the means.

~~~

Truthfully, Larissa hated when Gomez Addams would walk Tish back to the dorm. It shouldn’t be him, no, it should be her. But every night before curfew she would watch the raven haired goddess kiss the young boys cheek in thanks and bid him good night. It was the same routine every day. Larissa’s keen eye and observation skills meant she was always hyper aware of the way Gomez flirted with her roommate, in the halls they would walk and in hand while she walked behind drowning in jealousy.

Gomez wasn’t keen on Larissa that much was clear, he would always up his flirting or adopt a more possessive hold on Morticia whenever they were with Larissa. Larissa and Gomez always found something to bicker over and it often left the raven haired girl stuck in the middle of them. On one hand she desired to run with Larissa and risk everything to finally act on her true desire. On the other hand she wanted to keep her distance from the blonde in order to not hurt her and please her family. They expected children and Gomez was a pure candidate for her affections in their eyes. Yet with every passing day she found herself ready to risk everything and follow her heart. To end the constant bickering. But someone was going to get hurt and either way she would be affected by that hurt. Larissa pined for Morticia, she wasn’t interested in anyone else but her but always assumed she was too busy with Gomez to even notice, little did Larissa know just how much Morticia noticed and wished for the same. Fear of rejection from her family holding her back.

“You don’t have to constantly thrust your relationship down others throats Gomez!” The blonde practically screamed, her eyes blazing with anger and longing for the girl who didn’t want her. “It’s not my fault you’re jealous, maybe you shouldn’t be trying to take my girl” he snarled back. When Tish wasn’t around this is all that occurred, outside classes were worse because no one could stop them. “You treat her as if she’s an object. A prize. A goal post for you to score in” Larissa couldn’t stand that idea, she was beautiful inside and out and deserved to be cherished as such. Not some object or trophy wife for some dumb guy.

~~~

On the appointed day, you called the two young women into your office. You explicitly stated they come without Gomez. You prepared for their arrival and the action of your plan by brewing a very special tea from leaves that you had grown in your private herb garden. They were an ambrosiac. You knew it wasn’t the 100% morally correct action, but you had had it up to here with Morticia and Larissa dancing around each other. And with a little help from a friend of yours in England, who had given you a strong love sensing potion, you dosed their teas. You used black tea as the base, as nothing could penetrate its strong flavor.

Larissa was the first to arrive, punctual as always. You kindly told her to have a seat. She did so, and you could tell that she was nervous. She probably thought she was in trouble… A few minutes late, and a tad late as usual, Morticia burst.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor…!” Morticia frantically apologized, “I got hung up in the hallway and couldn’t get away…”

At this, Larissa scoffed in annoyance. Morticia went immediately silent. You chose to ignore todays drama and just went forward into your business.

“Please sit, dear.” You told the raven haired teen.

When both girls were sat, you began. You poured some teas for the both of them.

“Please have some tea. It’s a relaxant and calming brew, one I made myself.” You urged the two.

They followed your instructions without a further thought.

“So,” you took a deep breath and began, “As of late, I have noticed things getting quite heated between the two of you and Mr. Addams… I brought you to hear to reason with you and ask you both to put this childish nonsense behind you...”

You knew they wouldn’t be listening to your words, rather to enveloped in each others presences. But you lectured the two women for a solid twenty to thirty minutes, just to make sure the tea would have time to set in, before you released them.

~~~

Larissa immediately headed back to Ophelia hall knowing Morticia would go to find Gomez. After all, it was expected of her. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Being put in her place in the meeting was weighing heavy on her mind, had they really been that noticeable? Had she? She could try to tone down her annoyance towards Gomez but truthfully she thought that everyone was obviously not noticing her situation until now. It would be hard to watch the girl who held her heart with him but she would have to suffer in silence. It’s true what people say, nothing can break like the heart can.

It started as a niggly pain, one that was more of a hindrance than painful. But it seemingly worsened as time went on. The blonde decided to give up on her homework, concentrating was becoming increasingly difficult due to the pain, so she settled on her bed curled up in her favorite blanket just willing the sensation to leave her.

About five minutes later, Morticia entered the room looking to be in the same state as the blonde teen. “Larissa? You feel it too?” She gasped and the blonde withered and whimpered a yes. Neither girl knew what it was or why it was happening but they guessed you’d put something in the tea. Maybe that’s why you didn’t drink any, now they come to think of it.

~~~

“It must be some kind of ambrosiac…” Larissa whimpered in pain from the heat waves shocking her body.

Morticia collapsed on her own bed.

“Ambrosiac? Wait you mean like some ‘sex drug’ shit??”

“Must you be so crass…??” Larissa groaned, “And yes, I do indeed mean something like a ‘sex drug’...”

Morticia chuckled lightly, but stopped quickly as she keeled over in more intense pain.

“We will be miserable like this for days if we’re unlucky, unless—” Larissa began.

“No.” Morticia groaned, “I can’t.”

“I can’t live like this…” Larissa whimpered.

“Then go fuck yourself…!” Morticia hissed.

“That won’t work… It has to be another person…” Larissa whined.

Morticia let out a lengthy groan towards the blonde, sending shivers down Larissa’s spine. Silence ensued, while the tension built. Larissa was the one to break the silence…

“Please…” She quietly whimpered, a tear falling from her eye.

At this, Morticia suddenly got up from her bed.

“I can’t! I can’t!” She exclaimed, going into a ramble, “I’ll… I’ll just go to Gomez… Yes, He’ll fix it…”

But as Morticia went to the door, Larissa spoke softly, “It… It has to be with a person who will make you climax…”

At this, Morticia turned around to face Larissa who was now cradling herself on the edge of her bed.

“I’m sorry, are you implying that Gomez does not?!” She furiously exclaimed.

“Maybe I am…!” Larissa seethed, standing up to tower over Morticia.

“Oh you’re so full of it!!” Morticia yelled.

“No!! I just like you..!!!” Larissa yelled back, not registering the words coming out of her mouth.

Truthfully, Morticia had known this. But Larissa saying the words to her… It suddenly made everything real.

Before Larissa could process anything else, Morticia had smashed her lips onto the blonde’s plump, red ones.

~~~

Larissa whimpered desperately into the kiss.

Suddenly Morticia pulled away. Her eyes were frantic. She didn’t know what to do. But one more whine from Larissa’s lips had Morticia rolling her eyes and gripping the blondes chin tightly.

“Shut up.” The raven haired teen growled, “Or I’ll gag you…”

The blonde went silent after that, happily allowing Morticia to ravage and explore her lips once more. At one point, the raven haired teen bit down on the blonde's lips, eliciting a gasp from Larissa. This gave Morticia the perfect chance to slip her tongue inside the wet cavern of those plump, red lips. She drew blood, making both girls moan.

“Please… I can’t take it anymore…” Larissa whimpered into the kiss.

Morticia pulled away with a groan.

“Take off your knickers.” She simply said.

“I… what… ok.” Larissa whimpered, but was quick to follow Morticia’s words.

With her knickers in hand, Morticia took them and stuffed them into the blondes mouth.

At this, Larissa thought she would just keel over in pleasure. God this girl was hot…

“I told you, If you whined again, I would gag you.” Morticia sternly stated.

Morticia’s own breath was getting erratic and uneven…

“You want me…?” She breathlessly growled.

The blonde nodded vigorously and desperately, a muffled ‘yes’ being slightly heard through the gag.

“Strip.”

Larissa’s eyes widened and she scurried to remove all articles of clothing, Morticia did the same thing right alongside the blonde. And as the two stared at each others naked forms, all resolve broke.

Each one was all over the other. Kisses. Markings. Sensual touches. Frantic touches.

At one point, Morticia pushed Larissa back onto her bed, and she crawled on top of the blonde, nipping at her skin along the way. Larissa’s eyes showed urgency and need as her mewls and cries were muffled by her knickers.

The blonde was quick to open her legs for Morticia, who graciously accepted the offer of access, bringing her hot mouth immediately to Larissa’s clit. Larissa’s hands fisted the sheets and her creamy thighs were quick to shut around Morticia’s head, and in any other circumstance, Morticia would have cared, but not today. As her mouth worked the blonde’s clit, Morticia brought her fingers through the blonde's folds, making Larissa shudder in pleasure and buck her hips sloppily. And when Morticia slid two of her fingers into the blondes heat… Larissa thought she’d come right then and there.

The raven haired teen worked the blonde up with skill and dedication. There was no time for foreplay or teasing right now. The combination of Morticia’s tongue and fingers sent Larissa spiraling over the edge. Morticia eagerly drank all of Larissa’s juices, as her walls clenched deliciously around Morticia’s fingers and her screams were sinfully muffled by her own knickers. But as Morticia moved her head back up and went to pull her fingers out of the blondes soaking heat, Larissa interrupted her with strangled cries. Morticia removed the gag to hear what the blonde needed to say so desperately.

“Please Tish please don’t stop please Tish…!!” The blonde moaned out, bucking her hips up to sloppily meet Morticia’s fingers.

The raven haired teen smiled wickedly at the blonde.

“Haven’t had enough, have we…?” She lustfully taunted.

“No please need more, need more so badly…!!!” Larissa cried out.

At the blonde's plea, Morticia brought her tongue down to Larissa’s aching cunt. Larissa’s eyes rolled back as the raven haired goddess entered her throbbing hole with her tongue. Morticia proceeded to tongue fuck the blonde to high heaven, and all Larissa could do was try and stifle her screams of pleasure. Her next orgasm came out of nowhere and hit her like a brick.

“Tish I… I…FUCK—!!!” Larissa cried out, her head violently thrown back and her back arched, as her walls squirted and clenched around the raven haired goddesses tongue.

Morticia worked Larissa through her high with ease, and she came back up into the blondes view with her cum all over her face. The raven haired teen then connected her lips to the blondes, making Larissa moan into the kiss at the taste of herself. Both girls pulled away breathless from the heated kiss. Larissa’s red lipstick smeared all over both of their faces

“Be a good girl and let me sit on your face…” Morticia husked.

Larissa’s eyes widened and she nodded eagerly at this proposition. Morticia was quick to straddle the blonde and scurry up against the headboard, hovering her throbbing cunt above Larissa’s hot mouth. Larissa’s hands gripped Morticia’s thighs and guided her glistening core eagerly down to her lips. As Larissa licked through the raven haired goddesses folds, Morticia was quick to stabilize herself on the headboard as she started to rock her hips against the blondes face.

“OHhhHhHHh Fuck—Right there…!” Morticia moaned, only egging the blonde on even more.

Morticia came almost as fast as Larissa had, crying out the blonde's name on repeat. But Larissa wasn’t ready to stop there. No, she brought Morticia over the edge again with that skilled tongue of hers, lapping away at her walls as they clenched around the blondes tongue.

After which, the raven haired teen then collapsed next to the blonde, panting heavily.

~~~

Instinctively the two teens shuffled closer to one another, seemingly seeking the comfort they’d denied themselves of for so long. The steady beating of Morticia’s heart as she regulated her breathing was easily lulling the blonde into a fuzzy mindset. The pain is now satisfied but the raven haired girl feels guilty. How could something that’s meant to be wrong feel so good?

Unknowingly Mortica let a few stray tears fall. One taste of Larissa and now she couldn’t imagine not ever having her again. But there was Gomez to consider. “Tish?” The blonde mumbled and came up gently, swiping the tears away, “are you okay? I’m sorry if you didn’t want-“ Mortica cut her off with a kiss. “I want you, I always have. You were perfect and are perfect. But they want me with Gomez. I don’t know what to do. I want you but they say it’s bad and that I have to marry a man to have children and marry up” her little rant filled with a sniffle. “We can take it slow” the blonde stated which seemed to ease the other teens worries. And that’s exactly what they did, just with more “sleepovers” where they’d fall asleep wrapped up in eachothers arms.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

Morticia Addams Masterlist

[ilguna]

Oh my gosh, (if it's available for the event) please please please Viktor from Arcane with 100 from the expired medicine list

☼ blood run red (Viktor) ☼

warnings; swearing, blood mention, ehh gore, wound, mention of self-harm but not in the way you're thinking.

wc; 2k

prompt; 100. "I should have left you bleeding to your death."

--

“Hey, Sky,” Your eyebrows twitch. “I’m surprised you’re here so late.” You glance over your shoulder to see the dark hallway you’ve just come down. “Or this far into the building.” When you look back at her, you tilt your head curiously. “Isn’t your study down the hall?”

Sky doesn’t speak right away, lips slightly parted as her feet shuffle to a stop. She has one of her books held loosely against her chest with one hand. “It is, but I was paying a visit to Viktor.”

“Of course.” You wave your hand. “That should’ve been obvious. Is Jayce with him?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t go in there, though. Viktor doesn’t want guests.” She readjusts the glasses on her face. 

“That’s not anything unusual.” You tell her. “I’m sure he’ll make an exception for me. I’ll get him out of that room one way or another.”

“He says he’s going to sleep there again.” Her tone is almost defensive.

Your eyes narrow, speaking slowly, “He says that pretty often, but he always ends up with me, anyway.” You take a step to pass her. “I can pass along a message, if there is one.” You raise your eyebrows.

Sky’s face falls, realizing what you’re implying. Her eyes find the floor while she shakes her head. “No, no message.”

“Well, I hope you have a good night, then.” You smile, continuing down the hallway. 

It isn’t out of the norm for Viktor to push people away, especially when it’s this late at night. He was likely trying to let her down easy, so that he wouldn’t be caught up with her when you got there. People have a hard time catching the hint when he’s trying to be nice about it, taking his words as a suggestion rather than law.

Interesting how she felt the need to ward you off. Maybe he’s given her the speech on how important it is for him to get the last few precious minutes in before giving his projects a rest for the night. You can’t recall the exact amount of lectures you’ve received for showing up a few minutes earlier than expected and ruining his plans.

No matter how many times you tell him that you’ll patiently wait while he finishes, he tells you that it’d be rude to make you sit there and watch him. Even if you find it interesting or entertaining, he insists for the two of you to walk home. You have a running joke with Jayce that he gets performance anxiety. Viktor doesn’t think it’s nearly as funny.

Honestly, you’d be more worried if Viktor suddenly wanted people around him while in the study. Besides Jayce, they’re partners, Viktor’s supposed to want to work with him.

It takes you another minute to make it to the door, which is closed. You raise your knuckles to the wood. Knocking a few times before you reach for the doorknob. You don’t care for his permission to enter, at least you’re announcing your arrival. You wouldn’t want to startle him while he’s working with the Hexcore.

You push the door open with your hip with how heavy the wood is. “Viktor, I’ve come to keep you company, against your wishes. Or we can go home, it’s up to you.” You muse.

The door opens with a long creak, the hinges are so worn down from the weight that it slides to a stop. The space is just wide enough for you to slip inside, not bothering to open it any further. You stroll in, eyes sweeping across the dimly lit room. You’ve told him that he needs to be careful with reading in the dark, it’ll ruin his eyesight.

You sound exactly like your parents, don’t you?

Viktor doesn’t respond to your joke, you turn your head, expecting to see him sitting on the stool at the desk, but here’s not there. The stool has rolled several feet away, out of his reach. There are a few used papers scattered on the floor, surrounding your boyfriend, who has collapsed in the middle of it.

“Viktor!” You cry, rushing forward. 

You nearly trip over his cane in your haste to reach him. You hold his face with both hands, running your thumbs beneath his eyes. His eyebrows twitch, responding to your touch. And while his chest is rising and falling, there’s blood coating his lips, as if he coughed it up.

“Viktor, honey?” You can hear his ragged breathing, liquid stuck in this throat. You twist on your knees to face the door. “Sky!” You shout. “I need help!”

There’s a brief panic that fills your body when silence ensues. Then, the sound of heavy footsteps echo through the corridor as the person draws closer. It can’t be Sky, she’s got to be long gone by now.

A hand pushes the door open further, it belongs to Jayce. He’s breathing heavily, head whipping in your direction to see what the emergency is. You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy to see him in your life.

“I came in and he was like this.” You tell him.

In a few long strides, Jayce comes over to scoop Viktor into his arms, unaffected by his weight. You have enough of a mind to grab the cane before you follow after him.

–

Viktor has been absent and obsessive—two traits that wouldn’t normally stand out, if it weren’t for the fact that you haven’t seen him for nearly a week. You don’t know how he’s been successfully missing you each time you come to the study, but it’s beginning to wear on your patience. 

You understand his need for progress, and that his work is a priority. What you don’t get is him not communicating this to you. He’s had no issue doing it in the past, why the present is such a difference is an absolute mystery.

Not only that, but you’ve taken up a project of your own with Sky in the meantime, and she’s somehow disappeared from the city completely. If she didn’t have your combined notes, you’d wait for her to reappear. The fact that she’s taken it with her, despite the many times you’ve requested having them for yourself, is an irritation.

“Viktor, you better be in here.” You mumble to yourself, pushing open the large wooden doors. They’re already unlocked, telling you that he must be in here. “Viktor, I’ve been looking for Sky everywhere, and I can’t seem to find her or our notes.” You begin to ramble, “Do you…”

As you step into the room, you can feel the whole atmosphere shift into a darker energy. You can feel your stomach fly into your mouth, uneasiness halting your movements. You can’t get a muscle to move until your eyes adjust to the extreme darkness. The only source of light is coming from the glowing Hexcore on the table, that seems to have morphed into something different. The runes are gone.

A wave of deja vu makes you feel sick. You take in the mess on the floor, the discarded cane, the sheets of white paper, the pair of familiar glasses. And Viketor, sprawled on his stomach.

You stare down at him for half of a second, too shocked to move, confused at what you’re seeing. Viktor has stripped himself to his underwear and brace, revealing his damaged skin to the air. The wounds that cover his chest and upper arms… the dark purple tint of his right hand and leg.

When he looks up at you, you jerk forward, as if realizing that you should be caring for him. You fall to your knees to help him into an upright position. “What happened? Are you okay?”

You can see the wounds better up close, and they look like puncture marks. You can’t help running your fingers over one of them, listening to Viktor hiss before he seizes your hand. 

“Please, don’t.”

“You’re bleeding.” You remark, shaking your head. “And your clothes are missing.”

“I was conducting an experiment.” He says, trying to shut you out.

You won’t let him. “That resulted in this?” You ask, looking him over again, eyes locked on the discoloration. 

That looks like…

“(Y/n).” Viktor warns.

Your face falls. “What have you done?”

Your tone is a dead giveaway of your realization. Viktor pushes your hand away. “Nothing that I hadn’t meant to do.”

The curling of your lip is involuntary. “I’m not stupid, Viktor. I know this is from shimmer. Where did you get it?”

“I don’t have to tell you.”

“I’m tired of the secrets.” You tell him. “You were using shimmer for the experiment, why?”

You get to your feet, leaving him on the cold tile, no longer worried about him. You go to step around him, curious about the Hexcore, which has clearly evolved. Viktor reaches out with one arm, hand wrapping around your skin.

“Don’t get close. It’s not stable.” His voice is pleading.

“It didn’t look like this earlier today when I was trying to find you.” Your eyes shift to him. “Is this your blood on the desk?”

He doesn’t speak, sleep-deprived eyes boring into yours.

“Viktor, I’m reaching the breaking point. What happened here, and where is Sky?”

“Sky wasn’t here.” He lies.

You point at the glasses on the floor, lenses shattered. “Those belong to her.”

There’s a few beats of tense silence, and then his shoulders hunch, arm falling from your leg. “It was an accident. I think… I think Sky is gone.”

“What do you mean by gone?”

“Dead.”

“Dead?” You almost choke on your spit.

“Yes.”

Your breathing picks up in pace as you roll this information around in your head, unsure on how to approach this. Should you be worried about him killing people? He’s never shown the urge for it before. If he’s trying to cover it up, it can’t be good. Yet, he did say it was an accident… isn’t that what they all say?

“I need you to tell me what happened here.” You tell him.

Viktor’s face twists, lips turning down. “The Hexcore responds to natural elements. I figured it out when I got my diagnosis. You know this.”

You nod slightly.

“I visited an old friend from the Undercity.”

“That’s where you got the shimmer. That’s why you were on that bridge.” Your eyes drift away.

“How do you know that?”

“I talked to Jayce, because you wouldn’t talk to me.” You look back at him. “Keep going.”

“I was trying to inject my body with shimmer to alter the nature element for the Hexcore. I got too close, it sucked me in, and Sky saw. She tried to help.”

You shake your head, not following.

“She… disintegrated.”

You still, staring at him intently. “You’ve been harming yourself for this? And now Sky is gone?”

“It was never my goal—”

“Viktor, you’re already sick. You should not be doing this.”

“I have no choice. Jayce and I made a commitment, he needs my help.”

“Your safety doesn’t come first?” You challenge, watching as his face twists. “You’re killing yourself, Viktor. This is hurting you—changing you. You need to stop.”

“I will decide when to stop.” He snaps at you.

You press your lips together, beginning to back away from him. “I don’t want anything to do with this.”

“(Y/n).” Viktor reaches for you, hand landing on the tip of your shoe before it’s pulled from his fingers. “Wait.”

“I should have left you bleeding to your death.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[elvisabutler]

watch the smoke pour out the doors

summary: elvis presley, the real elvis presley, not whatever they like claiming is the man should be dead. at the very least he should be looking about two decades older than the man in front of you. and yet. elvis presley wishes the las vegas hilton- formerly the international- was a pile of rubble or ash. he enlists your help after a chance meeting. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: m pairing: elvis presley x female reader word count: 8012 warnings: major character death! choking. stalking behavior. the colonel being the worst. being trapped in one place. general depression. elvis is an asshole in this. fade to back sex ( p in v ). kind of yandere elvis? blood. vampire bites and general vampire shenanigans. mention of burn scars. fire in relation to buildings. excessive use of nicknames like lil bunny and spitfire. author’s note: heed that first warning y'all. this does not have a happy ending. i've had this brewing since september/october of last year and it's partially based on @venus-haze's vampire elvis headcanons seen here. so what really stuck with me in her comment about the fact that she took "I’ve been playing this mausoleum for 1,000 years" and ran with it. i took bits and bobs from her headcanons and ta da. also the fire i reference happening in 1981 did actually happen. i hope y'all like this even if this ending is a doozy. y'all know the drill real elvis or austin elvis can be imagined- if the moodboard didn't clue you in. also for musical vibes i have literally only ever really truly listened to meant to be yours from the heathers musical. also i did not add a tag list because this is- this is a fic and i was not about to make any of y'all tumble into it without wanting to.

Las Vegas is hot and is so sun filled that you hate it. You've always hated it but that might not have been the city's fault. Once upon a time you thought it would be your salvation but isn't that always the joke with everyone when it comes to the city. The salvation away from LA, because if you fail there Las Vegas will welcome you with open arms and remind you that what happens there stays there. It keeps you from going back to Memphis with your tail between your legs and being forced to tell your parents that you failed at your big dream. The dream that they supported you on but always figured you'd fail at. Your job pays the bills and you keep your clothes on, which considering the amount of bills you have, well that was a feat for you to achieve.

Working the front desk at the Las Vegas Hilton was challenging, mostly due to the customers with their requests that occasionally bordered on silly and nonsensical but you could handle it. It was nothing too horrible and there was certain pleasure in learning that you managed to pull off keeping some of the higher class- the celebrity clients happy. Of course, nights like this- busy nights with half your staff gone because of any number of problems- made you want to set fire to the building so that you didn't have to deal with this job. Your boss has you running around in what you swear is every direction until she physically stops you with her hands, gripping your shoulders and forcing you to stay put for just a minute.

"Elvis wants a delivery to his room." She says, her face twisting into one of sheer displeasure.

You raise your eyebrow and shake your head. "You mean the Elvis impersonator up in the penthouse. Why does everyone insist on calling him Elvis? We all know it's not him him- like-" The look she gives you is one you've realized means you need to shut up right in that exact moment because if you didn't you were liable to get yourself in a whole lot of trouble so you swallow the rest of your sentence and roll your eyes. "Got it, me and penthouse and his delivery of whatever to his room. Got it."

Your boss mouths a quick thank you before pointing to the kitchen area. It doesn't take you very long to reach there despite your heels and aching feet but it does take the kitchen staff a minute to realize you're standing there all gussied up ready to take whatever it is Mr. Presley wants. What he wants is apparently a feast befitting of a king- heh- and more packs of cigars than you thought one human being capable of smoking in any reasonable time frame but you remember those pictures of him back in the day. The pictures you'd see in your parents' house, in your grandparents' house of him smoking something. Maybe it was just someone who was honestly committed to the bit even if it meant wrecking their lungs and their voice. Once you actually manage to get everything, it's a surprisingly quick walk to the elevator and to the penthouse. For once your heels don't wobble as they have an annoying tendency to do so when you get this much stuff needing to be carried and you easily make it to the door of the penthouse and knock only to realize that your series of knocks have made the door open all on its own.

The room itself is dark, the curtains drawn so not even the light of the strip finds its way into it. It feels not like a tomb, you reason, with the temperature reaching levels that feel almost as if you've entered one. The cold wraps around you and has you shivering in your light blouse and work pants as you look for a free space, a table really to set down the items he requested. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the lack of light but you manage to avoid hitting anything and set the tray onto what you're mostly positive is a table- be it an end table or an actual dining table. You straighten up after you set it down and something feels off to you, feels as if you're being watched. That can't be though, yes Elvis- or whoever it's supposed to be up here had requested the items but that didn't mean they were stalking you from the dark.

Except the feeling doesn't go away and you know so very well that you ought to move, that you should get out of the room and back downstairs where it's busy and you don't feel the faint sensation of worrying that you'll be murdered. You don't though, it's as if your feet are firmly planted in that spot, like you want to see just why you're feeling this particular way. After what feels like an eternity you feel the air around you shift, a small gust of warmth pass by your back and that is the cue for your body to finally turn around. What you see when you turn around shocks you to your very core and makes you think you've got to be hallucinating.

It's like you've seen a ghost when you realize who you're staring at in the darkness of the room. There's always been whispers that Elvis is actually still alive, that he's alive and the person who's been recording the music and performing shows was still him. After all, despite so much information about his relationship with his manager coming out there was no lawsuit coming from the family and that had to mean he was alive. Looking at the man in front of you, looking at the parts you can see of his face that aren't obscured by a half mask over his face- you think they might be right just not in the way everyone assumed. After all, if you take off the mask, the man in front of you looks like he hasn't aged a day since about 1972 or maybe 1974.

Your parents had pictures of him plastered among the walls of your childhood home so you're familiar with the shape of his jaw, his nose and those eyes- those stunning blue eyes. You're familiar with all the facial features that make up one Elvis Presley and seeing them up close and personal as opposed to on stage? There's no mistaking who's in front of you. It's Elvis fucking Presley in the flesh, looking nowhere near the almost 60 he should be. His eyes though- the eyes you're looking at are just as stunning as the blue ones you've always heard about but you can see a hint of what looks like red in the pupil. It confuses you enough to have you moving closer to him to investigate. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head.

"That's new. Most of ya jus' hide and run away like scared cats." He huffs, allowing you to step closer and peer at his eyes.

"Do I seem like most people, Elvis?" You ask, you accent thickening as your hand against your will finds its way to his mask-covered cheek in an effort to pull him closer, only to have him practically snarl at you and grab your wrist.

"Do that and I'll rip your throat out with my teeth." His warning is accompanied by his eyes narrowing and his canines finding themselves on full display, showing you just how dangerous he could be. Yet, you find yourself raising your own eyebrows.

"Ya mean like you've done with a lot of my former coworkers?" It's suddenly making sense, how a lot of the times girls who went up here wouldn't come back and would suddenly have family emergencies. "Ya said it yourself, most of us jus' hide and run away. Do I look scared?"

The laugh that leaves his mouth sounds downright evil and sinister, like he truly is a devil waiting to ruin anyone who comes near him and you can't help the rush of arousal and fear that shudders through your system. His grip tightens on your wrist. "Oh, darlin'. Ya don't look it but that heart o' yours. Oh, she's betrayin' ya like nothin' else. Tellin' me you want to bolt like a lil scared bunny."

You hate how you swear you can feel your heart jump at those words, proving him right in the worst sort of way. You want to argue with him, want to tell him that his hearing must be going off and he's hearing someone else's heartbeat but you know better- you know from the glint you see in his eyes that there isn't a chance for that lie to fly. Instead you purse your lips and move to pull your wrist out of his grasp. "I haven't yet. And ya haven't tried to kill me yet."

His grip loosens but he takes the opportunity to pull you closer just enough so when he leans forward his lips are brushing your ear as his whisper is practically a short brush of air against it. "Yet." Finally, he lets go of your wrist and steps away from you, his eyes darting to the tray you brought. "All in one piece. You are better than the rest of 'em."

If anyone else were to say that, if you had heard it from an Elvis that looked the age he was supposed to be and didn't look like Dracula you might have preened, enjoying the compliment for what it was. Hearing it from him? Hearing it from a man who you feel will murder you the second you turn your back? All that accomplishes is making you shiver in fear. When you look at his face you see a grin that tells you that's exactly what he wanted to see.

You realize in that moment that you need to leave, you don't know if Elvis is planning on trying to hurt you or if he's just toying with you. Either way it's- it sets you on edge enough that your feet that had seemingly forgotten how to move manage to remember how as you turn away from Elvis, not bothering to give him a response beyond what your body had already inadvertently done.

"There we go, there's that runnin' I'm used to." Elvis chuckles, allowing you to move further away from him slowly inching to the door. "Even if ya practically movin' slow as molasses. Scared but bein' smart 'bout it, ain't cha?"

An answer dances on the tip of your tongue, a joke or a quip about how you'd be a fool to turn your back on a predator or to bolt from a predator. Either way you'd be seen as his prey and arguably easy prey at that. The answer dies on your lips as you feel a rush of air by you and see Elvis opening and holding the door to his room open for you. His grin looks full of promise and is all teeth in a way that sets you on edge.

"Go on, darlin', I'll let ya go. Ain't like I can't find ya 'round here." His eyes rake over your form and you'd think you'd be disgusted as you normally are when someone looks at you like that. Instead you have to suppress the shiver of something that passes through you. "'Specially if ya do that."

You don't dignify his words with a response as you exit hearing some whisper of the word fun and a dark laugh. If the speed of your steps increase once the door shuts. Well, that was your own business between you and whatever God saw fit to abandon you just a bit ago.

As it turns out Elvis is a very persistent man- a fact not tempered and instead heightened by the years he's lived. True to his word, he did know exactly where to find you though actually meeting up with you seemed to be beyond his reach. No, instead you found yourself being bombarded with gifts. Gifts you'd think Elvis couldn't provide and yet there they were. You wondered just how he was getting these things to you but the thought didn't fill you with any sort of delight so you chose not to dwell. It all comes to a head when before your shift one night there was a new outfit on your doorstep. A simple red blouse with a black pinstripe skirt. That in and of itself wouldn't be a problem and yet the true issue was the note.

Took a guess on your size, lil Bunny. You can tell me if I'm right tonight after my show.

It is your size and you have idea how he could tell that let alone how he knew these were your favorite colors and that you favored pinstripes for your dresswear. If you dwell on it for too long some sense of fear and flattered feelings settle deep within your stomach.

The only reason you wear the outfit is because every other work appropriate outfit you have is currently in the wash. A fact that is true purely due to your own laziness and is something you want to curse yourself for. You consider actually going to the show, entirely aware that you could but you're loath to give him the satisfaction. Instead you wait until around the time the show ends to make your way to his room utilizing your ability to have extra keys of rooms to make your way inside. He's not there yet so you sit in a chair and wait in the dark. Dramatic, yes, but you figure it seemed fitting given the circumstances. Perhaps he might even respect the flourish of it, the flourish of you waiting for his own dramatic person in the dark as if he couldn't rip your throat out in an instant.

You almost doze off waiting for him but when he finally arrives he opens his door with a sigh, completely ignoring you before he walks slowly over to you, silent as a church mouse. He opens his mouth to say something as his teeth glitter in the light of the strip coming from the window but you cut him off.

"Is this all supposed to charm me?" A simple question but one that has him chuckling lowly as you try and get up only to be stopped by his hand on your shoulder.

"It working?" His eyes zero in on your skirt before he shrugs. "Fits you like a damn glove. Knew I guessed right."

"You guessed-" You try and take his hand off your shoulder before realizing it only makes him push down just that little bit harder. "I didn't ask for clothes or jewelry or- for you to even still be trying to talk to me. What do you even want from me? My blood?"

"If I wanted to suck ya dry of all your blood, I'd've done it already darlin'. Nah, that'd be a damn waste of a spitfire like ya." Elvis murmurs as his eyes trace your form. "Think we'll have more fun with you alive and me alive as I'll ever be. 'Less ya gonna tell me you've gotta death wish."

You scoff at him, your lips curling up into a sneer. "I didn't even know ya were honestly still alive, what makes ya think ya were a part of any death wish I might have?"

"The fact that your heart insists on goin' a mile a minute 'round me. Or when you shivered like ya did. Might not have realized I was 'round but now that ya do-" His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Think ya'd enjoy dyin' with me drainin' the life from ya."

You shouldn't think the idea is enjoyable but you can't help the way your legs reflexively clench together. "Mr. Pres-"

"Elvis. Lil bunny, lil spitfire of a woman. You were waitin' f'me in the dark. Could've rushed in 'n torn out that pretty lil throat of yours 'fore I realized it was you. And wouldn't that've been a cryin' shame. Waste of a woman like ya."

It's flattering the way he calls you a spitfire and the way he leans close to you whispering it to you like a long lost lover. You reason your reaction stems from not being intimate with anyone for a while but truly perhaps it just is Elvis's natural charm. A shake of your head is all you manage to do before clearing your throat to speak. "Elvis. That- That was the point not- Ya needed to be caught off guard. Startled. And-"

The laugh he lets out is low and mocking. "Oh darlin' you wanted to surprise a vampire. You- God, you're somethin' else. Maybe- Stay here tonight. Don't got plans, know that."

The unfortunate truth of the matter that he's correct. You don't have plans but spending the night and staying there with him has you shaking your head once again. That is the exact opposite of anything you want to do. "No. Find- They'll send up another girl if ya ask them to or have- I don't know, I'm not staying here tonight."

His hand that's been on your shoulder moves to your neck and traces the lines of it gently as he leans forward and lets a nail act almost as if he's going to prepare it to be pierced by his teeth. "Not even if I have somethin' to tell ya. Somethin' interestin'?"

Your face perks up for a moment at the thought of just what he might want to tell you before you frown. "Not even- I want to go home Mr-"

"Elvis. Not. Mr. Presley. Not to ya." The words are growls in your ear and involuntarily your mouth opens up and lets out a soft whimper and whine. At the noise his hand moves to stroke your clavicle. "Just for tonight. Won't- Don't plan on doing what your body seems to want me t'do. Just wanna talk."

You use the fact that his hand isn't directly pushing you down to slip out of the chair. His eyes widen in shock before he moves to pull you into his arms. He doesn't bother to move fast, more preoccupied with seeing your reaction. You take a step or two back and he drops his arms to his side before motioning to the door. "'Nother night then, Y/N. 'Nother night." A beat. "I won't stop."

Whatever you want to say just comes out as a hiss of anger almost like you're a cat before you slink out the door. Once you're in the elevator you sink to the floor and try to steady your breathing, you try to tamp down on your arousal and try and ignore the part of your brain craving to find out just what he wanted to talk to you about.

That craving doesn't leave you and if you didn't know any better you'd think it was supernatural the way it worms its way into your mind and settles in popping up at the worst possible times. It only takes a week before you find yourself waiting for him in the dark again, wearing a pinstripe pair of pants and the red blouse he had given you. You don't mean to fall asleep waiting for him this time but you do, only to wake up when you feel the presence of something staring at you. By this point his show had been over for an hour and he's in a robe that looks- soft. "Rise n' shine, lil bunny."

You scramble a bit, shocked and mortified that you fell asleep before you look at Elvis who is just sitting casually as can be in a chair next to yours. Your eyes drift over him before you bite your lip. "I'm only here to- I want to know what ya were going to tell me last week. And I want ya to stop- I want to not have a bunch of gifts every day."

His shoulders move in a shrugging motion before he shakes his head. "I got no problem tellin' ya about it, but 'less you're gonna help, ya still gonna get the gifts."

"Why do ya- I don't want- That's not how you charm someone into helping ya." You cycle through words faster than you mean to, more confused than anything else at what he's saying. "What do ya even need my help for?"

It's a valid question, you figure, after all he's a vampire and you are still very much a human but he hums, waving off the question before moving his chair to face you and to essentially pin you into being stuck in your own chair. "It's how I figure you'll be charmed." He pauses. "Lil outta practice wit' th'other one. As for what I need ya help for-" He trails off and pulls off the mask obscuring part of his face to reveal a burn scar that is noticeable enough to have you gasping. "Need ya to help me avoid doin' this again. Don't feel like burnin' up like that on the other side. Let alone anywhere else."

Several moments pass before you finally find the words to articulate your question that aren't just straight confused noises. "Are ya asking me to help ya set fire to something?" He cannot be asking you to do that. You have to be dead and this is just a very vivid post death hallucination.

For his part Elvis nods slowly, looking you dead in the eye with the most laconic face as he answers you. "I'm askin' ya t'help me set fire to this place."

"The hotel?" Your tone shifts up about 2 octaves and you swear your voice just whistles instead of actually speak. "Where I work? Where you perform?"

That same laconic look doesn't leave Elvis's face. "The one I tried to set fire to in '81 only to burn half my face? That very one, lil bunny."

You can't help but laugh though it's not something normal and sensible that comes out of your mouth. No, it's a high pitched mildly terrified giggle that leaves your mouth. He's- He is asking you to commit arson with him. To help him set fire to a place he's performed at since the 1970s. That you work at. He cannot be serious. "You're- You're joking. I- I have Elvis Presley who is apparently a vampire stalking me so that I can help him set fire to a hotel because you fucked up the first time?"

The giggle is still there before his hand darts out and wraps around your throat, tightening just slightly. "Keep laughin' lil one. Keep laughin' and I'll rip that throat clean out. Won't even be recognizable."

His hand steals your breath away from you as you try to take a breath only to have him tighten it more. He- He won't kill you, you don't think, this is just to scare you, to make you want to do what he's asking for but your vision is starting to blur just a bit and you can't help the way your eyes are starting to roll back in your head before suddenly you can breathe. You cough a little violently as air rushes back into your lungs before you glare at him, pushing the chair back in order to stand up. "You keep threatening to kill me, ya sure ya want my help? I don't- I'm leaving. This is a joke. You're a joke just like ya were-"

In a rush Elvis has you pulled tightly to his chest, his arms snaking around you and tightening like a python. "Stopped being a joke the second this happened to me don't- Heard enough of that from all those goddamn tabloids and from the reports of my death."

You're going to die, this is how you're going to die. Not by starvation or homelessness or by some madman murdering you on the streets. No, you're going to die because a man who was a has been before he became a vampire and is even more of one now despite three more albums under his belt and another Grammy for that eighties gospel album. Still you have to fight him, he's not- if he wants your help he won't kill you. You're- he's obsessed with you, isn't he? Wants your help that bad?

"Elvis, I think you're just a lonely scared little boy in a man's- excuse me- vampire's body." You snarl, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, as if you have any chance of winning against a vampire with superhuman strength. As if you'd have any chance winning against him even if he was human. Elvis Presley never had been a small man and you had never been the strongest of women.

"And if I am? Ya gonna be my salvation? Gonna save me from this hell on Earth? This eternal damnation forced on me by a Dutch lyin' bastard?" He leans closer to you, his breath ghosting over your face, over your lips as he takes breaths he doesn't need to and as he watches your eyes have a fire in them that warms him from the inside out. "Gonna make me feel better about it, darlin'? Ya really think ya good enough t'do that? That I like ya 'nough for that t'work?"

"Ya haven't killed me yet." You spit at him, just narrowly avoiding actually spitting on him. "I'm still alive and ya seem pretty damn obsessed with getting me of all the people in this town to help ya. So, yes, I think ya like me just enough."

At your words Elvis's grip on you loosens and he steps back like you burned him for a moment before he practically hisses at you. "'m only obsessed 'cause ya seem like the only person who could do it." A beat and something flashes in his blue and red tinged eyes. "And ya- yer from home." Memphis is what he means but he doesn't think to clarify. He takes a step forward and grabs at your chin even as you let out a snarl of your own. "Ya hate this place as much as I do. And think ya'd like seein' it burn down 'round ya. Don't lie. Can tell if ya do."

A quick dart of your eyes to the side is all the answer you can give for a moment as you try to compose yourself. "Doesn't mean I wanna help ya. Doesn't mean I'm gonna help ya."

For the briefest of moments, Elvis looks human and looks like a little boy when he looks at you. He's- You recognize the look, it's almost practically begging. "Please. This place- it ain't good for anyone. Me, especially but can't tell me it's done a bit of good for anyone other than who owns it."

He's right, as much as you loathe to admit it and it shows in how you purse your lips. "I'm not- I ain't agreeing to this, but tell me just what your hairbrained plan is."

As it turns out, Elvis's plan takes until the break of dawn to explain and two orders of room service delivered by one man who goes back downstairs and a woman who- well, served as Elvis's food until she fell limp in arms. There was something enrapturing about watching the act, watching how her mouth contorted into one of pleasure as she came in his arms before you could slowly see the life drain from her until his mouth came off her neck with a pop and a squelch. When he looks at you his lips are covered in her blood and he can't help but give you a toothy grin. "Sounds like you're jealous of her and me. Can't risk killing ya but maybe- maybe soon lil one."

That morning you call in and dream of his lips against your neck and of the pleasure he'd give you because- he doesn't want to kill you. You'd just get all the joys of being fed from but none of the tragedy. If you avoid him that night, you blame it on your shift. He doesn't call you out on the lie.

Planning arson between two people, one of whom has a larger bank account but can't leave his residence and the other who has a smaller bank account but can roam as she pleases is harder than one would think. Yet you both persevere, meeting up every other night to gather the items needed. What's been tripping you up for ages has been the floor plans and it shows in how you've been getting snappier with Elvis each passing meeting. He gives back in spades, somehow being worse than he was your first and second meetings but tonight- tonight he seems a little melancholy and a melancholy Elvis is a very human Elvis and one you find- one you could see a future with perhaps. A twisted one but one that flutters into your brain on nights you can't sleep or nights you can sleep despite dreams of the two of you mouths red and snarling as you feed.

"At this point ya might as well kill me." Your accent has been returning with a vengeance the more time you spend with Elvis any acting classes you had to train it out of you falling by the wayside. "We ain't gonna find a proper floor plan and without that we can't-"

"Y/N." His tone is laced with a warning- don't test him, not tonight. "I got time- wanna get this done but 'nother week ain't gonna hurt."

"Says the man who hasn't fed from me and is gonna live forever." Your eyes are blazing when you look at him before you continue. "I wanna get this over with. Wanna have- Wanna see if you'll do somethin' if we get it done."

Elvis's eyes narrow looking at you for a moment before he rubs his hand over his mouth. "Oh. That's- Lil Bunny. That's the problem? Ya want me t'do somethin' to ya? Have my wicked way with ya?"

You can feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears before you can even articulate an answer. "That's not- Ya keep looking at me. Like- like I'm someone ya might wanna- No, I don't."

"Ya do." He moves to lean over your chair, putting your face at eye level with his chest. "Ya wanna know what it's like to be in my bed. Wanna know what it's like to please me."

You do, lord above you do. You're essentially committing a crime for him and for what? For the pleasure of knowing you've set fire to a horrible hotel? That you've freed him from this place? For nothing that gives you any satisfaction. "Is that so wrong? Ya won't kill me when there's a line of bodies I can probably trace back to your first year as a vampire. Ya won't feed from me because then where's your help for this silly scheme. Ya won't fuck me because-"

"Listen darlin, honey, satnin. I- I get a lil lonely up here. I know what ya gonna say- jus' leave but you've seen how it is." Seen how he can't leave the room for fear someone's going to actually realize that he's Elvis Presley and not some impersonator. Seen how people already mock the fact that he's still around- after all hadn't you? Seen how he looks out at the view of Vegas, almost wistful when he thinks you're not looking. "I haven't killed ya but- you're- ya remind me of how I was. Always been- the way I am but not not like this. Don't feel like ruinin' it is all."

His hand reaches out to touch your face and it's so gentle that you can't help but nuzzle into it and take a quick inhale of breath. "Elvis."

He hums, noting how your eyes shut and for the briefest of moments he remembers what it was like to have someone whisper his name like that. Like a prayer you're scared will float away and fail if you say it too loud. He's missed that, he's missed so much of what it was like to be human, to be able to live freely even if back in the day his freedom still had him confined. You just look so sweet nuzzling his palm, acting as if you're the love of his life, acting as if you belong there. Maybe that's why he had been cursed otherwise he doubts he would have made it to this decade or at least made it to this decade in a state you might have wanted him in. "Y/N?"

"Why are you being like this?" You whisper, still nuzzling at his palm. "You- From the stories I've heard you're- you've never been a completely good man. I haven't seen you be a good man."

Another hand, his free hand moves to cup the opposite side of your face and forces you to look up at him. His eyes always such a stormy blue with that ring of red since you came across him have taken on a lighter hue and it takes your breath away as you feel his thumbs stroke your cheek. "Haven't had a reason t'be one. Look where it got me, satnin. Haven't pushed ya away yet, maybe you're- maybe you're the thing to settle this violent angry head of mine. So pretty- so gentle when ya wanna be. Let me take care of ya, hm?"

His hand moves away from you and you chance it almost in a trance before you look at him and bite your lip. "Take care of me?" The subtext is clear as your heart starts to race and your legs clench together.

What was the harm in treating you tonight? Maybe it would give you the right incentive to find the floor plans, to look harder than you had been. Maybe that was the real trouble you were having. You were too distracted by your desire and want for him. His hand moves down to your chest, undoing the buttons of your blouse slowly. "Take care of ya. Jus' for tonight."

That night you find yourself gasping for air, screaming his name, arching your back and snarling all at once. You find that when you leave you play with the bite mark on your breast and shudder remembering his words said against your ear more than once. "Might make ya mine if ya do well enough."

It still takes another two weeks to get the floor plans, the proper up to date ones. Two weeks of finding yourself in Elvis's bed with him teasing you and making promises about his plans for you and him. But, as it turns out someone had been wanting to get a room at the hotel and well, you did work the front desk so you could handle getting them some accommodations for a fee of course. Elvis wastes no time in opening up the plans when you arrive that night with them in your hand, holding a bottle of champagne for you and the number of someone you had met on the bus for Elvis to enjoy his own drink. After she's on the floor and you're nursing your second flute of champagne you feel Elvis behind you wrapping his strong arms around your middle and pulling you close.

"Gonna turn ya when it's all ash. Won't be stuck here any longer, can do what I want again. Take ya all around the world." He whispers against the shell of your ear, nipping once he reaches your earlobe. "You're gonna look so fuckin' gourgous feedin'. Vicious as ya are. Ya did so good bringin' me dinner too. Wish I coulda shared her wit' ya. Soon, lil Bunny, soon."

There's an alarm in your head that goes off at those words, at the way he coos them while holding you. They feel off- fake somehow and you down that second glass the moment he lets go of you. Had- You knew very well he wasn't a nice man, you've known this from the second you first spoke but he- there's no way he has any intention of changing you. He might be obsessed with you but that's because you've been the only person who can handle herself well enough to do this, hadn't it? You were going to get him to the finish line of burning down the hotel only to what burn with it yourself? Take the fall for a dead man? You file away the thoughts in your head for a later moment, if you thought about them now Elvis would know.

You smile at him almost saccharine. "Ya mean it? I'll be your vicious lil vampire queen?"

He grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss not caring that he still has a trace of blood on his lips. "The second it's up in smoke. Promise."

Liar.

Las Vegas in August is disgusting, better than some places in the United States, but it's still hotter than Hades and feels nearly as suffocating despite the lack of humidity. A fact you keep pointing out to Elvis as you both hold small cans of gas.

"Should've killed ya like the res' of 'em. No one would've missed ya. Jus' another lil' girl in Vegas runnin' 'round thinkin' she could make it big." You see a flash of his teeth and you figure it's supposed to scare you but at this point you like to think you know better.

"If ya killed me who would be helpin' ya right now?" The way you speak is practically a sneer but you can't help it, not with how he just somewhat threatened to kill you. "Hurry up, people are going to start coming back and I don't-"

"It's 11PM and they're in Vegas the hell are they-" He starts before he starts to trot off to the area he's most familiar with- the stages. "Meet me by the damn elevator."

An eye roll is the only response he gets as he leaves you to your own thoughts as you pour the can of gasoline in a line between the already waiting containers of it. If all goes well the walls of fire you and Elvis hope to create will have the entire building up in smoke in no time at all. It makes it so you both have to be quick on each floor but you had taken precautions for this. You knew every way to get down the floors as quickly as you could and Elvis wouldn't leave you behind. After all, he kept talking about his lil' spitfire queen. Kept cooing the words at you in between planning and buying the gas and finding yourself spread across his sheets or above him.

And yet something felt different, you had that same feeling you did when he talked about how gorgeous you'd look feeding. It felt off. You try to shake the feeling away as you two reach the top of the building, his penthouse suite and cover it in extra gasoline. He wanted every bit of this room demolished, nothing salvageable but to do that you are currently feeling faintly high on the sheer amount of gasoline in the room and wondering just how no embers from the cigar he just lit have fallen yet. You almost miss the words he says when he looks over at you. "Ready to run?"

A shrug is your only answer before you try and take a deep breath. "Get in the elevator first, then toss it."

He obliges, letting you go first with a flourish that rather than delight you has your hackles raising. "Ladies first."

Elvis Presley used to be a gentleman. Elvis Presley is not a gentleman any more.

Right before the doors to the elevator close Elvis tosses his cigar between the door and as they shut you feel the rush of heat from the roaring blast it caused. This is the only floor you have to take the elevator for and it makes each consecutive floor easier. You both light a cigar and toss before running to the next floor, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat even as Elvis pulls you in for a harsh kiss his eyes blazing in the fire he had started with his cigar, looking practically manic with delight. The fire brings out the red in his eyes. It scares you.

"Calm down, Lil' Bunny. Almost there." He shouts practically sing songing the words as you rush down yet another flight of stairs to the second floor. "One more floor and you're mine. We'll be free. I'll be free."

There it is again, that nagging feeling that you're a means to an end for him. You brush it off one final time as you start to cough, the floors of smoke and blaring alarms of a sprinkler system that hasn't produced any water getting to you. "Jus' want this done, 'Vis."

Finally you reach the final floor, the bottom floor which is the most complicated. There's an extra exit, a fire exit in the stage area so you both agree that's the last room, that's the last place to be set ablaze and Elvis finds it almost poetic when he thinks about it. He stares at the doors for a moment before he enters with you, as if he thinks he has all the time in the world. He might, he might be able to run out of there fast enough but the smoke is starting to get to you and the heat from the blaze above and around you is making the area around you sweltering. "You said you'd turn me, Elvis. Once we get outside, right?" You have to shout before you cough over the roar of the blaze and how somehow it's starting blow toward you as you shut the door to leave you and him in the lone area not on fire yet.

The cigar in his mouth is lit and he contemplates knocking off the tip, letting it start to catch everything ablaze before he stops himself and nods. "Course, gonna do it the second you get some air in ya."

Your own cigar- the last cigar is lit and you're about to toss it before you stare at him, stare at him because that tone- that tone betrays his actual plan. "Why not now? I can- I can barely breathe in here, Elvis."

Those words have him tossing his cigar and have a whoosh of fire come up behind him as he walks towards you. "You'll be fine, lil spitfire. Y/N. You don't- Patience. Don't wanna rush forever."

Your mind goes blank as you drop the cigar you were holding and have to jump out of the way as a bit of fire starts to separate you and Elvis. He glances at the fire and growls, realizing he's very quickly going to be boxed in before he wooshes to a spot next to you. "Tryin' to kill me? 'Cause I won't-"

A crash can be heard of a bit of wood falling onto the stage and you jump before you cut him off. "Because you're not plannin' on it. Ya gonna- You're plannin' on killin' me, aren't ya?"

"Eatin' ya, actually. It's what ya wanted back when ya first saw me eat. Wanted to be fucked then sucked. I fucked ya now-" His words are cut off with a slap that he allows you to do because it gives him the ability to grab at your wrist. "Loose end, lil one. Either you go down for this or ya die. Gave ya the more pleasurable option."

"While telling me you were going to change me!" You snarl half running toward the door even as you inhale another bit of smoke causing you to cough more. "You- You've been usin' me this whole damn time! I- you said you'd make me your little queen."

He's faster and he has you pinned up against a wall as he feels the flames starting to inch toward you both and as you keep swallowing more and more smoke. "Ya called me a damn has been and a joke. Darlin' ya don't wanna spend eternity wit' me, ya jus' wanna run around spending an eternity doing whatever the hell ya want to do. Ain't gonna give ya something you think is a gift."

"You- I'm- I can't breathe." You choke out as you try and take deep breaths only to realize that the room is filling with grey smoke. He's fine because he doesn't need to breathe but you- you need air.

"Shame I didn't change ya before. Didn't give ya what ya wanted to use me for. Don't care 'bout me. Lil Memphis spitfire don't care 'bout the thing everyone loves 'bout the place. No wonder your mama and daddy don't want ya to come back." His tone is mocking as he keeps you pinned to the wall, despite inching himself closer to the door. He was going to escape and you were going to die by smoke inhalation if the fire didn't kill you first.

A breath of air enters your lungs suddenly as you find that Elvis lets you go, a bit of the fire catching onto his pant leg right as he reaches the door with you. You seize the opportunity and hit at the door with your body, trying to force it open as he steps on the offending burning fabric. even as another crash can be heard on the stage and you see more and more paint chips fluttering around both of you, or maybe that's ash you've never seen a fire this big. The door finally flings open and more fresh air for your lungs and to feed the fire. Elvis whooshes over to you and attempts to block your way out but for once you have the upper hand, managing to be on the outside of the building while Elvis is still just barely in there. He realizes his mistake, realizes what you just very well might do to him in an instant.

"Lil Bunny- I'll- Don't be rash. I'll do it. I'll do what I said I would." He coos even as the fire rushes around him, his hair becoming more messed up the more he stands there. His face getting more ashes on it the longer he stands there.

"Liar. Liar." You tilt your head and move to push him inside. "Pants on fire."

His eyes look down thinking you're telling him his pants are literally on fire and you take that as your opportunity to shut the door, locking it in a way only you know how. Within a moment he starts to push at the door.

"Y/N!" He shouts through the door. "I'll do it, just let me outta here! I'm- Ya don't want this on your conscious! I wasn't gonna kill ya! Baby- Darlin- Lil Bunny, let me out!"

"Not gonna believe a lyin' dead man, Presley!" You shout, knowing that you sound insane before you start to move away because he's right you don't want that on your conscious. You hear him shouting promises you doubt he'll keep and feel the fresh bite he had made on your chest burn as you walk away but you're able to fake being a victim among the crowd, the ashes covering your face and the way you keep coughing as the building burns and as you swear you hear a series of Southern curses in the wind.

The bite scars over and aches from time to time.

They don't find his body. You try and not let it keep you up at night.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

I was thinking about your Pup time loop au and what if scenario where he wasn’t the only one looping. Like, what if Treech was also caught in the time loop - they’re both trying to save Lamina for different reasons.

Pup doesn’t realize Treech is also looping because he doesn’t like Treech (still viewing Treech as an obstacle to Lamina winning) and doesn’t pay him enough attention to any Not-Lamina-Tribute to notice Treech is doing things differently. Treech does realize because Pup starting to act differently every time is Very Obvious.

Maybe Treech tells Lamina he’s in a loop and it makes her try to get both of them out (of course, that doesn’t work, and Treech doesn’t tell her in the next loop because he doesn’t want to watch her die for him again).

(And the inevitable discovery that both of them are in a loop and begrudgingly working together until an eventual ✨friendship✨ because there’s only so many times you can redo the same week before warming up to the only other person who remembers.)

Genius

Pup only figured out Treech was looping after around 100 retries of about 300 or so? It takes a while to get the games cancelled in a week okay? And even then the first day of the games still starts with all the tributes alive.

Treech caught on by loop 3.

Actually, he noticed immediately that Pup was acting different, but chalked it up to him just not paying attention or being uncharitable the first time. Or maybe the butterfly effect is at play here? Well, the second time around he was paying attention. There is nothing he could’ve done to cause this. So yeah, he picked up on not being the only time traveller really quickly. However, he also caught on to Pup’s dislike of him and wasn’t about to open that can of worms if he’s gonna keep going back in time anyway. What’s the worst that can happen? Death? So Treech isn’t saying anything and Pup just straight up doesn’t realize, which causes quite the amount of shenanigans.

It’s pretty obvious they both want the same person to win (to Treech) so he tries very hard to use this to his advantage. It doesn’t work because Pup keeps changing up his strategy, but it’s gotta be effective at some point right? So he tries everything. Being violent to draw the other tributes’ attention away from Lamina, hiding like the first time but specifically to keep her safe, causing distractions whenever the pack starts approaching her, leaning very hard in the performer angle to get sponsors to help Lamina with, you name it. Sometimes he involves Lamina in planning, sometimes he keeps her out of it. Especially after that time she died for him in hopes of getting them both out. The performing one really makes Pup loathe him though. Something about “stealing” sponsors from Lamina? Ha! Jokes on this guy, Treech was gonna share anyway.

Then he slips up.

After weeks upon weeks of pure Hell, groveling and suffering and dying to get Lamina home and constantly failing, he breaks. Rambles about her deaths and the more notably horrible ones like Circ and Coral with the snakes (they almost always die of those stupid, horrible, disgusting snakes. At least they don’t remember, unlike him) or Bobbin’s bashed in head those few times he came across it. Less often as loops come and go, but still a horrifying sight. Once he gets those off his chest, his stupid mouth can’t quit and starts talking about his own deaths. The snakes (down his shirt, dragging him down, all over his body. Bites in his neck, in his legs, in every inch of his skin) and the trident and the pitchfork and the broken neck and the drones and the powder in his eyes and the cold and hunger and everything else. Later, he plays it off as just a nightmare he let get to his head. Luckily, she just hugs him. What sane person would jump to time travel as their first conclusion anyway?

Well, turns out fate ain’t on his side because Pup decides to try and separate the two in that exact loop. Lamina gets mad when he insists the two will get over each other just fine and shouts that Treech is her friend and she won’t abandon him. When he tries to convince her she cares more about him than he does her, she brings up the “nightmares” as proof that he’s worried sick. Which he is, and he did admittedly spend the most time breaking down over her deaths, but still. The one she told Pup about specifically is a little too recognizable for Pup to not notice, and three loops later he has the epiphany. And confronts Treech. Yay.

They have an argument that ends with a tenuous alliance once Treech finally manages to convince Pup they both want Lamina to win here. Despite this teamwork, the two remain frosty and uncomfortable with one another, mostly because Pup is still hardcore dehumanizing every tribute that isn’t Lamina. Though Treech doesn’t like being around more Capitol people either. He’s still figuring out how to feel about Vipsania. By now, he’s managed to admit to himself that aside from one loop where he murder-hobo’ed as many mentors as possible because the Capitol’s bullshit broke him, Vipsania always ends up caring about him. Kind of. She never really gets there, or if she does it happens during the games at which point it doesn’t matter because he’s already dead. Treech is a little too busy figuring out how to feel about that seeming change of heart to worry about Pup of all people. He’s going to die no matter what so it’s not like it matters.

Switching to Pup’s POV as he is the main character for this AU:

Finally, Lamina wins. Treech has to sacrifice himself and dies slowly for it to happen, but Pup can’t bring himself to care when Lamina is finally out and safe. The boy was gonna die anyway, it’s not like he matters all that much. Except Lamina isn’t happy or relieved or even numb. She’s inconsolable! Nothing he says helps, and if anything he’s making everything worse! And then he’s right back at the start of the week again. Treech… doesn’t talk to him. He already knows she won, and that it didn’t matter. He clings to Lamina, and for the first time… Pup actually sees him. Not just another tribute or an obstacle, but a kid. A terrified child who’s died over and over and over again, only to find out that it meant nothing. They don’t talk that loop. Treech doesn’t respond to anything he says. But the next time, Pup brings food for Lamina and Treech and talks to them both. Not about the games, but about them. And this unfortunate partnership becomes a bit of a camaraderie. Pup’s the only one that knows about the loops and he’s happy to sit on the other side of the bars, hugging the other boy as much as possible while he sobs his heart out about the horrors he lived through and about how much it hurt to die.

That’s when Pup really starts working to fix the problem, rather than the symptom. Losing a girl he cares for a symptom of the disease that is these horrific games, and Pup starts to plan. Treech can’t do much for now, so he lets the boy mentally pull himself together for a few loops while he collects info from his classmates on who would be willing to help him.

I’ll come back tomorrow or something to write down my thoughts on how this will conclude. Now I wanna write this lmao but idk if I should.

[dropout-if]

79 for my girly pops wanda pls thank yuo ❤️

Wanda + 79, “Stop hogging all the blankets!”

From this ask game!

Originally, it was Gabi’s idea—“How come I never can sleepover with my friends? Ma~ think about the blanket forts!”—and then it’s Wanda conveniently deciding she wants to convince you of the exact same idea (“[Name]~ think about the fairy lights~”).

Her puppy dog eyes are hard to resist.

The night is only the beginning of this new, more conventional adventure, and you find yourself standing behind Wanda as she hovers over Gabi’s small frame, getting her ready for a sleepover with a few of her friends from preschool—Gabi always wins when her opponent is her mother, you wish you could relate.

It always takes an ungodly amount of time for Wanda to make sure the tiny angel is ready to leave. You watch the way Gabi allows herself to be wrapped in her fuzzy pink coat, rambling (tripping over her words) about anything and everything—whether her unicorn plushie is safe and warm too in her backpack, about the new neighbor in their apartment building, how nice the cool breeze would feel, her excitement for the sleepover, does the fact that you’re staying for the night mean it’s a date or a sleepover or both?

“No, it’s neither. Mija,” Wanda pouts as Gabi fails to pay attention. She turns toward you, eyes begging for some kind of help, only to pout harder and coax Gabi to get ready “We’re going to be late~”

You intervene out of mercy, “Gabi, do you want to make Miss Rosario wait?”

“No,” the little girl sulks with an expression that is too similar to her mother’s.

The two say their goodbyes, Wanda walks Gabi to the car—looks almost tearful as she does so—and only grins brightly when she returns to your side.

“I lied!” Wanda claps excitedly, she lets out an attempt at an evil laugh “This is so exciting! We haven’t had a sleepover in forever~”

“I think Gabi already knows. About the date-sleepover.”

“And I think she has the attention span of a four-year-old,” Wanda reminds you “Come on! The fairy lights~”

Organizing anything with Wanda is exhausting—a distraction, it takes you two nearly an hour and a half to set up the blanket fort—but the reward in itself comes as you and Wanda snuggle together, cozy and warm. The glow of the lights Wanda was so insistent on casts a warm and intimate light, dancing on your faces with every little movement.

Wanda wiggles around, tugs at the blanket—the last piece that you decided to save, and so are now forced to share, “Hey, stop hogging all the blankets!”

“Blanket: singular.”

“Blanket: singular. You and I: plural,” Wanda laughs merrily “Sharing is caring and whatnot.”

You feign innocence, wrapping the singular blanket tighter around yourself, “What are you talking about? I’m just trying to stay warm here.”

Wanda gasps, narrows her eyes playfully as she inches closer, “Really? Is that so? You’re freezing over in the middle of August?” suddenly, she bursts out laughing, “I want to tease you and tell you you’re hot— but it’s too obvious.”

Spoilsport.

You chuckle nervously, your eyes meeting Wanda’s “I wouldn’t have to take the blanket if you weren’t stealing all the warmth.”

You’re close enough that you see every little shift in Wanda’s expression as her lips curve into a mischievous smile, “Oh, I see how it is.”

With a swift motion, Wanda lunges at the blanket, attempting to wrest it from your grasp. Laughter filled the air as you tussled, trying to outmaneuver the other, enjoying the fight for the sake of it, the accidental touches— Wanda was right, it’s July, but—

Amid the playful struggle, your faces draw closer. The laughter fades, you share a meaningful gaze, the world outside the blanket fort slipping away. The warmth of your closeness became more than just about the blankets. And then Wanda kisses you.

[fanfictiongreenirises]

re: ur tags in that $10 food poll, why does the ethnicity of someone factor in to if you'll ask for reimbursement...???

this got really long lmao but in my defence the tl;dr version of it is literally "different cultures have different norms of how paying for food works regardless of amount" but if you're asking why ethnicity is a factor then i'd rather give more detail than leave it there

mmkay so first thing you need to know about me is im bengali, and culturally, there are many things that go into who pays when you're buying food and how reimbursement works. (second thing i'd like for you to know as a disclaimer is i'm 1.5 gen immigrant so my norms with paying might not necessarily reflect the current norms in bangladesh)

so if i'm out with another bengali or south asian person and they're younger than me, i'm paying for the food regardless of cost and absolutely not asking for reimbursement. if they're my age and we're friends and we're not paying for our own food for whatever reason, then we're going to fight about it and whoever loses will fight harder the next time we go out or reimburse in another way (e.g. buying other food, paying for smth else if we're shopping together - rly depends on the relationship, but it doesn't have to be a 1:1 reimbursement), but even if there is no next time and you both know it, there'll still be no "here have the exact amount back via cash/bank transfer" reimbursement over it bc you just wouldn't ask for the money back. if they're older than me, it'll take a pretty unique situation for me to be the one paying but depending on how much older, they'll likely repay me by buying something else, or paying next time. best example of this is my gujarati colleague who's about double my age - the first time we went to grab coffee together at work, it was spontaneous and she didn't have her wallet on her so i paid and refused to give her my bank details, and the next time we went for coffee she paid and specifically was like 'you paid last time' so i'd fight her less on it; every time after that we paid for our own even though she still tried to pay for mine (but fought significantly less, because the initial social dance was over).

however!! the norms in white australian culture (that i've experienced) are different!! if i pay and insist a little too strongly that they don't need to pay me back, then white australians get weird about it - because i'm not following the norms. (they'll either go to Lengths to pay me back, or they'll be like 'cool thx' and move on lmao there's no in between.) so i'll be like 'no you don't need to pay me back it's just $10' once (if at all) and then give in and accept monetary reimbursement. i don't believe anyone when they say i don't need to pay them back, unless i've known them for a v long time, so i'll still find a way to slip them money (or if i have friends who go to Lengths to pay me back, then i'll do the same for them, because that'll be their norm/expectation) (i've seen bengalis try to do this to other bengalis and the reaction ranges from being super offended to really confused/surprised lmaoo)

obviously, this is a super broad explanation and generalisation, and doesn't really take into consideration things like how my personal relationship with people also impacts this, or how different circles will have different norms within those circles that'd override other social and cultural cues that might exist, or how specific people will have preferences for paying you back that you'll respect and often mirror. and obligatory disclaimer: cultures aren't homogeneous and other people will have had different experiences with the ones i've mentioned that won't align with mine; and none of these norms are good/bad or right/wrong, they're just different norms and expectations and ways of doing things

[funghettoo]

Unused Minedai idea: friends since childhood

A bunch of ideas that I don't feel like writing an entire fic about.

Little Daigo goes out of town with his parents, but gets bored while they are at a business meeting and runs away.

takes a walk around the unfamiliar city and stops for ice cream. when it's time to pay, he takes out a lot of money and it's clear that he doesn't understand how much to pay and how much to have in change. the merchant takes advantage of this and tries to cheat him by taking more money than he should. at that moment Mine passes by, witnesses the scene and stops to scold the ice cream man, telling him that he shouldn't take advantage of a child. he also advises Daigo on the exact amount to give and continues on his way.but Daigo is too proud to accept the help and gets angry at Mine. Mine is terrified of catching the attention of passersby and making people think he's bothering a rich kid, but he is also proud and is offended by that child's behavior, so he responds in the same tone. "Why are you dressed so strangely?" healso has the nerve to ask. ofc Daigo gets more angry. they argue a bit, in the stupid and naive way that children do, without really caring.

Daigo snorts and complains, Mine calls him spoiled and rude, and a moment later they are on the playground laughing together. Mine is reluctant but Daigo can be really insistent, plus he has the impression that the other child is lost in the city so he wants to help. the man who is raising him at the orphanage has taught him to behave well and be helpful as he can. Mine tries to be a good child, so he stays with Daigo and agrees when Daigo decides to go to the playground. Mine is happy to have the right to be there for the first time. He usually avoids places like that, because children don't want to play with him and their parents look at him badly, wondering what an orphan is doing there. he knows that everyone expects a wrong gesture on his part, just the slightest excuse to attack the orphanage. so Mine always spends his time studying alone. but Daigo doesn't seem to care about his used clothes or his shy character, he welcomed him as his friend and wants to play with him. Daigo is more good and kind than he makes it seem, Mine can trust him.

so they play together, Mine calls him "Bon Bon" and Daigo hates it. Daigo calls him "Taka" and Mine is happy. until the playground becomes too crowded with families with children, Mine clearly becomes nervous. noticing his discomfort, Daigo takes him away. "I'm hungry, let's go have a snack!" he decides. Mine takes him to a bakery he heard a lot about in school. he's never been there obviously, he doesn't have the money for such frivolities. the old man at the orphanage rewards him with ice cream when he is very good at School at the end of the year but it is a secret between the two of them.the pastry shop is also crowded, so while they are in line Mine squeezes behind Daigo's back and clings to his clothes. Daigo wants to offer him a snack but Mine refuses, so Daigo on his own initiative buys him a sweet that Mine was looking at from the shop window. Mine doesn't stop thanking him, he's so happy he could cry...

they eat their desserts, in the meantime Daigo doesn't stop talking about life in Tokyo and a certain Kiryu-san. Mine is very fascinated by it all.after that, Daigo asks if there is an arcade. Mine is having fun and is happy to have found a friend, so he continues to indulge him. Ofc He's never been to an arcade, so he looks around in amazement. Daigo says he's great at UFO catcher but he can't catch anything, so he makes Mine try. Mine catch a bunchan limited edition.Daigo tells Mine to keep it, since he earned it. Mine shyly accepts, it is the best gift he has ever had and it will remind him of his only friend, he will keep it as the most precious thing he has.

but it's getting late, it's time for Daigo to admit that he's lost and has to return to his parents. Mine helps him return to the place he ran away from.when they arrive, Yayoi is already on the street nervously waiting for news from the men who are looking for her son. when she sees him she scolds him for running away but Mine intervenes and politely apologizes to the woman, declaring responsible for Daigo's delay. Yayoi is impressed by this polite child and thanks him for helping her son. Daigo is sad because they have to say goodbye. at that point Mine tells him the truth: "I live in the orphanage in this city, come visit me when you get back! ...if you don't mind it and you still want to be my friend." Ofc Daigo doesn't care and wants to be his friend, he promises he will come back to see him. Daigo actually comes back, the next time his parents have a business meeting he insists on going there with them. this time Yayoi accompanies Daigo, she wants to visit the orphanage.

but they find a bad surprise: the orphanage has been closed, the man who took care of it is dead and there is no one there. Daigo is desperate, he cries and insists on looking for his friend everywhere in the city. the mother can't say no to him and so they search together. they find Mine shortly after in a rough area, living on the street among homeless people.sleeping hugging his bunchan. Daigo runs to hug him. Mine is ashamed to be seen like this, he is left homeless but continues to go to school and manages to live by doing some work. Daigo can't leave him like this. he insists to his mother to take Mine to Tokyo with them. Yayoi seriously considers it, after all why not... many families still adopt a child to raise as a trusted assistant and bodyguard for their heir. so the Dojima family takes Mine with them and gives him the best education. they grow up together, inseparable, and Mine takes his role as Daigo's assistant very seriously.

in the worst moments that will come in Daigo's life, he will have Mine by his side and things will get better.

[bluiex]

Couldn’t help but write more for my superhero AU. This takes place after HotGuy and Xelqua cross paths a few more times.

—————

“I see him!” Scar whisper exclaims into his phone.

“Scar.” Cub saying, his tone a warning, “don’t do it.”

“Come on Cub,” Scar counters, “I need answers about him and I won’t get it with the others.” He quickly makes his way along the sidewalk, heading towards where he’d seen the avian perched on a building. He barely catches him jumping down onto the bustling street.

“And following this apparently powerful vigilante is a smart idea?” Cub lets out an exasperated breath, “Scar, you are unarmed and practically defenseless.”

“Exactly,” he defends, “which means I’m just a normal civilian.” Before Cub can voice any more complaints, Scar cuts him off, “he just went into a store, I’m gonna follow him. Bye.” He hangs up, quickly following Xelqua into the store.

Scar pauses as he looks around the store. At first glance it seems like a normal, albeit small, clothing accessory shop, but Scar can tell there’s something more to it. He walks down the aisles, eyes focused on the wares as he approaches the counter. He’s soon close enough to catch their conversation.

“You already do enough for us, you don’t have to,” the lady in charge says.

Xelqua scoffs, “nonsense. It’s not fair for you to pay so much extra for something so simple.”

She sighs, “it’s just the price to pay for goods outside of the city.”

“I can fly there and back within a day, that price is outrageous.”

Scar can catch Xelqua’s feathers ruffling out of the corner of his eye. He knows enough about avians to know that the vigilante is genuinely upset about this. Very different to how he is any time Scar faces him. Scar keeps his eyes focused of the wares in front of him, studying them a bit more. He reaches a hand out and grabs one of the scarfs hanging on the rack, realizing that it’s hand made.

“You don’t need to worry,” the owner insists, “I can have it handled myself.”

“It’s not an inconvenience to me, I wouldn’t be doing right by them if I didn’t help.”

Scar drops the scarf, surprised at the sheer amount of passion in Xelqua’s voice. He spares a glance over, taking in just how much the avian cares about this. This is just giving him more questions then answers.

The lady sighs, “alright, I’ll get you a list of supplies and the money to pay for it. Just don’t strain yourself to do it, okay?”

Xelqua nods, grinning, “alright. I’ll return after closing then.”

She nods, “I’ll see you then.”

The vigilante turns around, beginning to walk towards the exit, right towards Scar. He freezes when they make eye contact, and Scar thinks he’s immediately been outed. Thankfully Xelqua just gives him a nod before exiting the shop.

“I didn’t notice you enter,” the owner says, a slight change in her tone.

Scar meets her eyes and tries not to get defensive, having instantly recognized the look. The look of someone judging you but trying not to make it clear that they were. Scar just grins, “it’s fine, I was just browsing.”

“Mhm,” she hums, sounding amicable, but her gaze studying all of Scar was less so.

It’s only then that Scar realizes his outfit definitely sticks out here, basically flaunting his high class status. He can’t help but wince, he really is that oblivious, huh?

Scar looks back to the scarves, definitely intending to buy one now. It is early fall and he doesn’t own one, after all. He stiffens as his heart stutters, eyes landing on one of them. It’s plain, but a bright red color. A very familiar red. It’s nearly the exact same color as his sweater. Scar carefully picks it up, it feels like a good quality scarf, not that Scar is thinking about that at the moment, his mind is far away.

Void, he really can’t go one day without thinking of Grian, can he?

Scar takes in a deep breath, trying to keep his composure, it wouldn’t do much good to fall apart here. He turns to face the shop owner, “I’d like to buy this one.”

A RED SCARF QoQ catch Grian seeing him later, or another day wearing that Scar and just knowing what it means

OUGHGSIUHGFDStgf

[siryouarebeingmocked]

Time to talk about a right-wing Reddit idiot for a change.

"Rightist", according to his flair. Thread was about reparations.

Idiot: Most black people in America aren't even descended from slaves.

Me: ...How does that work out, exactly?

Idiot: Look, the Wikipedia page says 12.6% of America is African American, and only 10.3% of black people are slave descendants, and over 80% of black people are slave descendants.

The exact Wikipedia quote he quoted:

Me: Okay, but the math doesn't work for your interpretation.

Me: 10.3 divided by 12.6 is 81.7%. That 10.3% must be compared to the overall amount of people, not compared to the overall amount of black people.

Idiot: No, I'm pretty sure it's 10.3% of black people.

Me: How, exactly? If there were enough black people who immigrated after slavery for their kids to outnumber black slave descendants 9 to 1, I think it would be easy to tell!

Me: The exact same Wikipedia page says most African-Americans are descendants of slaves! Twice!

Me: In the opening paragraphs!

Idiot: My brother in christ, those paragraphs were using the terms differently.

Me: 

And that's when I decided it was a good idea to give up.

The really stupid part is that I'm still against reparations.

This was still less stupid than 

the guy who implied California’s government should pay reparations for slavery, even though California never had slavery*. He said “the government” was responsible for slavery. 

When I said most slave owners were private individuals, he said “well, the government still made slavery legal, right?” And bought up the Tulsa riots as an example of “generational deprivation of wealth”, a phrase he loved to use.

I said that would be like expecting the government to pay reparations to people in car accidents because driving is legal. Also, the Tulsa riots happened in another state, generation after slavery was over, and didn’t justify slavery reparations in California.

At that point, Idiot2 said Trump’s golf trips are a waste of taxpayer money, and asked me why I wasn’t complaining about that. I pointed out how he was trying to change the subject, and he insisted it was actually the same subject.

Idiot2 never backs up his claims, never admits he’s wrong about anything, and seems physically incapable of making a post without a personal attack, trying to put the other guy on the defensive, or both.

Frankly, I only engage with him to rile him up. Like Aridara, except stupider and even less self-aware.

* It did, but we were both under the impression it didn’t. This guy could’ve proven me wrong if he had done the slightest bit of research. However, California didn’t enforce black slavery by law, and had no slave patrols, so bringing your slaves with you was at your own risk. 

This also means Idiot2′s “but muh government” argument

[originalpackersandmoversblog]

How to remain safe from getting scammed by movers?

Moving scams are for real, every other day there are reports from inaccurate billings to theft, no risk coverage to charging extra and missing the moving deadlines, etc. And if you are moving your household stuff specifically on a part basis, then it is very essential to take the required precautionary measures while hiring the best movers and packers. Even if the percentage of fraud is low, it’s better not to be a part of such a small percentage too. If you are planning your home relocation and you are not sure of the ways to avoid and save yourself from getting scammed, then here is the post worth checking as it will help you to know the tactics that will secure you from falling prey to a moving service provider.

Overbilling

This is one of the most common scams because, in the end, it’s always about the cost spent. They will begin with fewer prices and then they will increase the rates quoted by them in the beginning. Thus, whenever, you are considering or bargaining with moving professionals to shift your home, office, vehicle, etc, don’t just fall for the lowest price.

That does not mean that you have no right to reduce the prices, but you should keep an eye on and observe what exactly you have charged for.

The rogue moving companies will provide you with an estimate, and once you have appointed them, they will provide and submit the invoice with distinctive rates. You should get a detailed quotation with the entire moving costs mentioned. You will not have the final price until you have inspected everything beforehand.

Demanding to pay more

The scam is similar to overbilling, but usually, the spurious moving companies often charge you more for unloading, or by making irrelevant excuses. In the beginning, they will quote extremely low so that you appoint them, and once the goods are packed, they start horrifying you with the excuses.

Delayed delivery of goods

Delaying delivery for a day or two is fine because there may be some issues that might be unavoidable in the transit. The reason is that nobody has control over traffic or some unexpected route diversion. But delaying the delivery for weeks or months is generally not acceptable. So, make sure to ask clear questions about the route they are preferring, the real date of delivery, the amount of payment to be made after delivery, etc. Thus, it is better to finalize the exact date of packing, during the transit period and delivery date and all these should be in writing.

Damage or theft

Partial theft and damage is another major issue that you may suffer through while relocating. This happens in case of shared shifting, and by mistake. Whatever the reason is, you must insist on getting an exact packing list made and duly signed before allowing them to load your stuff inside their vehicle. Make sure that the boxes are packed properly and avoid signing the delivery list without matching it with the packing list.

No risk coverage

Insurance is crucial and mandatory. But at times, even after charging you for the insurance, the packers and movers might not insure your goods because their aim is just to charge for the service and keep money with you. But remember, they have just taken the money, but they are not going to cover the risk associated with your goods during transit, so cross-check to make sure that your goods are actually secured against all the risks. Focus on the insurance payment proofs documents or secure the proofs that the actual insurance is done before handing over your consignment.

Wrong phone numbers

One of the extremely unusual things to note down, but this can be crucial. Normally, the moving company who is just an individual may provide you with the invoices but there no surety that the contact numbers provided may not be functional. And now imagine, if you are waiting for an update, the mover will stop receiving your phone calls and you don’t have any valid contact number to reach out to them. Hence it is recommended to always work with companies that are reliable. Ask for the alternate phone number of the manager, owner, etc and speak to each of them to make sure that you have multiple contact numbers to speak with during an emergency.

Not showing up on the date of move

Again a very common tactic that a fraudster plays while packing and moving goods is not showing up on the date of the move. These unprofessional movers will schedule a date for packing, at a very low price. But once they have got some other consignment to deliver that too at a higher price, they wouldn’t show up on the decided date of the move.

Therefore, the effective way to avoid this type of strategy by movers is to have a clear discussion, give them a moving reminder at least a day before or two, and always have a backup plan framed with you. When you have another plan backed up in your mind then you can easily switch to the next best moving professional, and that’s why it is advisable to check the price quotations on several movers so you can have the best option.  

Low-quality packing material

This is also one of the most common tricks that the fraud movers use. They will charge you less but compromise on the quality of packing supplies used. They pack the stuff casually, imagining that once the goods are loaded in the vehicle, their responsibility finishes off. And by compromising with quality, they easily save some pennies, which might cause you much later.

If you want to avoid such moving scams, you better discuss the packing quality along with the supplies that will be used, and also examine whether they are packing the goods properly or not.

Inappropriate certification

If the movers and packers reach you professionally, that does not mean they have all the registration and appropriate license to operate the packing and moving business. There are many who work on visiting cards and pamphlets. Be at a safe distance from such companies, because you never know, if they are going to be there in the packing and moving business for real.

Happy Moving!

[sk3tch404]

5 Reasons why I would be a good girlfriend to Jayce

1 - I’m good at cooking

2- I can cosplay any character he likes

3- I’m short so he can have a headrest when he’s tired

4- I’m thic so if he needs a pillow my lap is the best for his head

5 - I’m affectionate so I can give him tones of cuddles and kisses

And that is it

But you can't give up your individuality and become nothing but his? Boooo get off the stage

Lol jk

1. Jayce is also good at cooking! In game, your kind of a unhealthy loner, but once he sees that you're actually great at culinary, he'll be astounded.

Although he's happy you're good at something nice, he is a tad disappointed. He can't leverage cooking above you as an excuse to keep you.

He may say sweet things like, "Wow, you're very talented sweetie. You know, maybe I should let you in the kitchen more often huh?"

But in his mind, he's thinking all sorts of bittersweet things.

"What a waste."

"I should paralyze her hand."

"A pity that is."

God he is just so jealous. It's one thing to be better than him as a human being, but to be better than him at the only things he's good at? That...

It just, pisses him off. Even if you're his one and only, that doesn't mean he never gets certain feelings about you.

Feelings none of you like.

2. You can cosplay any character? Maybe for Halloween, but that's all useless now. Yes he's seen your costumes, beautiful wigs, and amazing makeup looks on your phone (Yes he payed someone to hack through your phone whoop whoop surprise)

Jayce loves this other talent of yours, but he sees no use for this for him.

"I like it when you dress up, but here, I don't want you to. It's not like you're ever going to a con or anything."

This is just because he personally doesn't like to cosplay. Yes, I know, he loves Halloween, BUT you don't get free candy and crazy amounts of happy nostalgia.

Ugh disappointing ik but he's low-key a meanie

3. Hehehehehe Jayce LOVES that you're smaller than him. He teases you about it and definitely uses you as an arm rest lol

"Sorry, I don't know who's talking right now. I can't see them. If only we could talk face to face."

Sometimes, he slouches down, puts in face in the crook of your neck and hugs you from behind.

Just sway there and hold his arms as they're around your waist.

4. You're- You're thick you say...

As much as Jayce doesn't seem to care about looks, this just makes him flustered! You're letting him lay on you?! Your thighs to be exact?!

"Wait, r-really?! Don't say stupid things Y/n. I mean, you're probably still mad at me, so dont act all nonchalant."

A yandere acting like a tsundere, smh

If you really must insist with that sweet tone of yours, then he guesses he can let guard down this one time.

He'll be facing away from you though. Too embarrassed to look at you properly.

5. If you kiss him on your own free will, Jayce will be on cloud nine! Hugging and holding hands is a lot for him already, so kissing him will get put him into cardiac arrest.

"You- What are you- I- ah- STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!"

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... I'm not mad, I swear."

Jayce likes talking to you and saying sweet things to one another, but actually doing said things actually make him extremely nervous!

All in all, he's sort of an asshole when he feels like it, but can become vulnerable when your actions come into play

[moemoemammon]

Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now! 

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d  think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

[darthstitch]

Down in the Underground

Kids were creepy sometimes.

Sarah likes kids just fine, which is why she works at a nursery. It helps pay for her additional schooling and the rest of the bills. She knows perfectly well that one must answer the imaginary telephone, drink the pretend tea, exclaim at the deliciousness of the flower and rock salad and, of course, praise the drawings as masterpieces of art.

But sometimes, kids said and did the darndest and the creepiest things. Like the time her baby brother Toby, at 2 years old, talked about the "pitty lady" visiting him at night.

The "pitty lady" was Grandma Amelia, who died just two months before Toby was born. They'd figured it out when he kept reaching for a picture of their grandmother in her younger years.

There was also the time her cousin Anne's little girl once said, "I don't like this house, Mummy. I got sick here when I was an old lady and nobody came to help me."

Her cousins later learned that the house they were planning to buy used to belong to an old woman who died alone, as she'd been estranged from her family. Needless to say, Anne and her husband looked for a different house.

And there was Daniel, her next door neighbor Lyta's baby, who Sarah and her flatmate watched over sometimes when the usual babysitter wasn't available. Daniel was the sweetest little man, sunny-tempered and generally well-behaved, who had just discovered the wonders of crawling. Crawling, not walking, although Sarah figures with those strong little legs of his, it was definitely going to be a thing in the very near future.

So Sarah puts the kid down in his crib, for his nap, right? And her flatmate insists that they bring the crib out to the living room, just to make sure they always have an eye on him. No big deal - a healthy dose of paranoia where little kids were concerned didn't hurt anyone.

And without fail, once he's awake, she finds sand all over the crib and in his pockets. His mum complains about the exact same thing. She's pretty sure the kid's clean when she puts him down for his nap. But yeah. Sand. Go figure.

Her flatmate is no help at all. The first time this happened, Calliope just stared down at Daniel, who gazed back up at her with big innocent eyes and then, she muttered something in exasperation that sounded like "Ohneeross!" and then she laughed.

And then, Calliope tells her not to worry about the sand. They'll just sweep it away.

Now, it's this drawing by little Holly Wheeler. She's another sweet kid and usually did everything in bright pinks and purples. Her drawings are usually a riotous explosion of rainbow colors, which is typical for a little girl like her. And now, right in the middle of the pinks, magentas, yellows and purples, is a tall pale figure dressed entirely in black, with black messy hair and pure black eyes ringed with blue, except for where Holly attempted to draw yellow stars in them.

"Holly, who's this?"

"Oh, that's Mister Sandman."

Now, Sarah knows her fairy tales and nursery rhymes and she's very up to date on kids' cartoons. The last time she checked, the Sandman didn't look like Slenderman's Creepy Cousin. "Mister Sandman? He looks a bit scary, doesn't he? Looks a bit like Mister Nightmare to me."

Holly looked completely offended. "He's not scary at all! He makes pretty dreams and he sings with me and he even sent me the monster under my bed so I wouldn't be scared when Mummy turns off the light!" A beat. "His name is Mister Jargogle."

***

"My Lord?"

His Darkness, the King of All Night's Dreaming, was rather engrossed in the crafting of a new dream, so he might be forgiven for sounding a little distracted. "Yes, Lucienne, what is it?"

"There… have been an unusual amount of youthful visitors to the Castle lately."

"Hm."

"Not that I mind seeing little ones around but -- "

"Oh, Lucienne, is there another one of those dragonfish brabbles making nests in the library shelves? I'll have Mervyn put them in Fiddler's Green or… hmm… just a moment -- " A pale hand waved gracefully and a rather short, fuzzy-looking red-orange nightmare with golfball eyes appeared. "This is Snottor. I've been meaning to send him along to help you."

"Wakka wakka!" The Nightmare greeted.

There's a flap of wings as Matthew settles down on Morpheus' shoulder. The raven was rather proud that he'd finally gotten shoulder-perching privileges and made use of it whenever he could. "Hey, is that a Muppet?"

Lucienne shook her head. "I appreciate the addition to my staff, my lord, but the children -- "

"Children are often in and out of the Dreaming, Lucienne. I rather enjoy tending to their dreams; childhood is when much of their imagination and creativity are shaped and formed."

"Wakka wakka!"

"He looks a little bit like Fozzy Bear," said Matthew, flapping down to inspect the new Nightmare a little bit closely. "I always loved the Muppets. Kermit's always gonna be my main frog, y'know?"

"The children," said Lucienne, deciding that now was a good time to polish off her glasses, "all know you by name, my lord. And not through the stories you inspire, but they know you quite well."

"Wakka wakka!"

"Help!" Matthew cawed. "It's gonna eat me!"

***

Sarah might have forgotten all about Holly's grimdark Mister Sandman, chalking it up to a little girl's overactive imagination.

But here he was again, in another child's drawing.

This time, it was little Gregory Martens, who was in her afternoon class. He was a thin, quiet, withdrawn little boy, who usually shrank back from the rough-housing of the other children, preferring to draw or read quietly in a corner of the room. His mother had told Sarah that Gregory was especially close to his father, though he didn't see the man often, as he was in the military.

"This is Mister Sandman," Gregory explains. "I have bad dreams, sometimes. Usually about my Da." He sniffs. "I don't want him to come home in a box, like the way Mandy's mumma did last year."

"Does he make the bad dreams go away, Gregory?" Sarah asks him. Her heart hurts when he mentions "the box" and she pats his shoulder comfortingly.

Another sniff. Sarah hands him a tissue and helps him blow his nose. "Mister Sandman says that sometimes you just have to face the bad stuff in your dreams. I guess that means I gotta be brave, like my Da. Sometimes, Mister Sandman just walks me away from the box and just tells me stories."

"What stories?"

"I don't remember all of it when I wake up. But I think I will, one day."

***

Hob Gadling doesn't mind the damage to his clothes. He's watching his son, Robyn, finally making that important milestone from crawling to walking. The baby is clearly trying to stand up on his own, pushing up against the floor with chubby fists.

Finally, he makes it to a full standing position and Hob kneels, boisterously encouraging his boy onwards. Every detail of Robyn's face is so clear, the bright blue eyes that he'd inherited from his mother, the flaxen hair, the rosy, chubby cheeks. The little one takes one step and then another and then another, until he comes right to his father's arms. Hob sweeps him up bellowing with joy and the baby shrieks happily with him.

It is much, much later that Eleanor indulgently plucks the baby from his father's arms, because it's time for his nap and Robyn will be ill-tempered without it. Hob steps back and knows, without having to look, that Dream is there, right beside him.

"Thank you, love," Hob tells him, his voice thick. "I'd near forgotten what my boy looked like."

"It is the child's birthday today, is it not?" Dream draws him close and they take a moment just to breathe in each other's scent, before they sink into each other's embrace.

Hob's face is wet with tears when he wakes up but Dream is still there in his arms, waiting for him. There are whispered words of love and a sharing of memories and the deepest grief. There are clasped hands and kisses exchanged.

In the end, there is warmth, comfort and consolation.

***

Sarah sees the drawing of "Mister Sandman" again in another child's drawing, from the primary school classes, which were just next door to the nursery. He's in a few more drawings, as well, from different children, but the depiction is eerily the same - the tall slender figure always in black, amidst a riot of colors.

It was, she suddenly realizes, an honest-to-God meme among the nursery and primary school set. It was a freakin' creepypasta come to life.

Of course she takes pictures. Of course she asks the kids about the drawings, when she can. A dream of being a lady knight, riding to adventure on a dragon. A dream about the monsters in the closet or under the bed, or for one child, the monster who kept him company in his cupboard bedroom under the stairs. That one led to social services swooping in and taking the poor little boy away to finally live with his doting godparents, instead of the aunt who had so cruelly neglected him.

And then, she reads this story by her classmate and neighbor, Rose Walker, who'd gotten published in the university's literary journal. It's accompanied by an illustration, the artist signing his name as Will Byers.

"The King of All Night's Dreaming" was the title. A tall, elegant, pale figure in black and gold, jewelry sparkling in his hair, flashes of diamond and silver, with stars in his eyes, surrounded with colors.

***

The Guardians of the Castle Gate had loved the first child who was conceived and born in the Dreaming.

Their Lord had once walked out, seeking his son, only to find him held carefully, gently, in his Griffin's mouth. Orpheus was giggling, bright little sounds that warmed his heart. He had his father's eyes.

"The little lord wanted to play, sire," the Wyvern told him, a little abashed.

Morpheus was nonplussed but his little one was content and happy, and so he left them to it. Later, he knew that the little boy would come sit at his feet, happy to watch his father create dreams and nightmares. They would sing together, sing a song of shaping, and their delight would always draw in Morpheus' little sister to join them.

***

Rose Walker laughs when Sarah tells her about the "Mister Sandman meme" and points out the resemblance to the picture in Rose's story.

"Oh my god, I'm never gonna let him live this down."

"What."

"Okay, so, uhm, my friend Will just decided to draw someone we both knew as the Dream King in my story. It's kind of a joke. And well, I guess he really is magic with kids. Daniel just loves him."

"This guy," Sarah tapping gently at the ethereal figure in the picture, "is based on a real person?!"

"Yeah. He's very much real. Also he's not Slenderman. I think he'd be offended at the very idea." Rose paused for a beat. "Or maybe not. I really have to ask him about the nightmare thing."

"You're not making any sense here, friend and I'm still, quite frankly, creeped the hell out."

"Look, Sarah," Rose said, taking her arm. "I think you better come with me to my next class. You got the next couple of hours free, right?"

"Well, yeah, Richmond called off his classes today."

"Okay, come on."

Sarah realizes that Rose is leading her to Calliope's literature class. She hasn't had a chance to sign up for her flatmate's classes yet, though she's heard good things about it. She plans to do that next semester.

Calliope smiles at her in recognition when they take their seats. She's a great lecturer, animated and engaging the class in discussion. And then, she tells them that she's invited a guest to read some of Shakespeare's poetry for them, dark eyes impish with mischief.

And then, "Mister Sandman" glides in.

All right. So he's not Slenderman's Creepy Cousin. He's… okay, oh god, oh wow…. so Sarah feels the flush creeping up her neck and Rose rolls her eyes at her. What? She can't help it if the man is ridiculously beautiful, rocking out the Gothic vibe in the long black coat and the black boots.

He greets Calliope with a courtly kiss to her hand. "I hope you realize what you've done. He'll be terribly upset with me."

"Oh, I'm sure he will be, Oneiros," Calliope purrs. "I am also sure you'll enjoy every moment of making it up to him."

Some of the class, who were apparently in on the joke, titters.

"GO GET YOUR MAN, MURPHY!" Someone hollers.

There is a suspicious flush on those exquisite cheekbones but he simply shakes his head and then, does a little wave, when he notices Rose.

"You're hopeless, Uncle Dream," Rose calls out.

"Uncle Dream?!"

Rose nodded. "Yep, that's my Uncle Dream, who's a dork sharing his one braincell with my history professor. Now shush."

Rose's Uncle Dream takes the book of Shakespeare's sonnets from Calliope and reads.

"Reads" was an inadequate word for it. To be honest, Sarah's not sure if there was a word for how Dream's voice sounded, deep and rich and lulling, making her almost see the images evoked by every line. The class is spellbound for what seems to be an eternity, before he finally closes the book on the last line. There's a very audible sigh from everyone and it isn't long before they all applaud.

"Careful, Oneiros," Calliope teases him. "Or you might be snatched up for the theatre or teaching a class of your own very soon."

"In which case, I shall rely on my own dearest knight to save me from the ordeal," he responds, smiling gently at her. "Once I've apologized to him properly for the blasphemy of Shakespeare."

"I am sure he will, once you explain that he was very much in your thoughts whilst you read every line of that sonnet. You are besotted, Oneiros. And utterly ridiculous."

Once again, he kisses her hand in the same charming, courtly manner. "But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, all losses are restored and sorrows end."

"Oh, you're impossible!" She laughs at him as he takes his leave, sweeping out as dramatically as he walked in.

Sarah shrinks in her seat. Well. That happened.

***

There's another little boy making his way to the Dreaming.

Daniel Hall greets the wyvern, the griffin and the hippogriff with a happy crow and he's allowed to ride on the griffin's back, pudgy fists holding on to his mane. They spend quite some time playing until their attention is caught by a polite cough.

Dream of the Endless is watching them. An eyebrow is raised.

"The little lord wanted to play, sire," the Wyvern tells him once more in a helpful tone.

The Guardians are quite confused when Dream suddenly snatches Daniel up for a hug, nor did they understand the tears in his eyes, or

the sudden darkening of the skies in the Dreaming, threatening rain. Daniel only knows that he ought to hug Dream back, which he did, something that his own Mummy did when he was feeling sad.

He pats at Dream's cheek, making a clumsy attempt to wipe away his tears but Dream manages a soft, watery smile. "Shall we go and create a new dream today, little Daniel?"

Daniel nods happily.

-end-

Footnote the First: Sarah Williams was eventually introduced to the Hellfire Club and took to the whole D&D thing like a duck to water. She was also responsible for the sudden improvement in everyone's costumes and props. She did, eventually, find out who and what Dream really was, but that was only after her baby brother was snatched away by the Goblin King and she had to go through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered to take him back.

Footnote the Second: Matthew would like it to be known that Nightmares, even the ones that greatly resemble Muppets, are not allowed to eat His Majesty's Ravens. He appreciates Dream enforcing this rule and quite forgave him when all the Muppet Nightmares joined together to sing Bohemian Rhapsody as their idea of an apology.

Footnote the Third: Hob Gadling made sure to send Calliope a lovely bouquet of flowers, as a token of appreciation, once he'd heard about the "Shakespeare Incident" in her classroom. Dream had been very creative in the whole process of "making it up" to him, which was probably why it rained red roses, lavender and peonies in the Dreaming for the next two weeks. Hob could not be held responsible for the happy daze he spent the next day in. Twitterpated was probably the best word here and it was also an excellent word to describe the Dream Lord when he went about his duties afterwards. At least Lucienne now had a faithful assistant helping her clean up the flowers in the library, although he rather liked nibbling on the peonies. At least, he wasn't trying to eat Matthew anymore.

[katsukisbimbo]

Then and Now | one

✯pairing: ryōmen sukuna x reader x gojo satoru

✯summary: where gojo’s best friend is the reincarnation of sukuna’s former lover.

✯wordcount: 4.3k+

✯warning: fem! reader, she/her pronouns, swearing

✯note: omg i’ve literally been sitting on this for 3 weeks but here it is!!! i’ve fallen down a jjk hole and i don’t think i can ever get up

✯playlist

part two

“Satoru! Where’s Megumi? You said he’d be here? Something about looking for a special grade?” you bounced around, grasping his arm and shaking it along with you. You loved annoying him. The two of you had always been close. As a child, Gojo was still as bright and cocky as he was today, he had many proclamations of being your protector. Though, as you two aged, you learned how to protect yourself, becoming a jujutsu sorcerer whilst staying by his side. Of course, you were nowhere as talented as Gojo, but you never let that stop you, and he never used that fact against you.

You were still high in the rankings, a grade 1 to be exact, and you worked hard to get there. Not because you wanted to catch up with Gojo, but because you wanted to make him proud. He was the only one who had supported you through it all. Your parents weren’t much help, but Gojo was there for you when your world was crashing down, when you had broken into pieces he would be the one to put you back together.

Always.

There had never been a time where you had doubted Gojo. Until, maybe now.

“I dunno, I got souvenirs!! Kikufuku Mochi! They’re really good! You gotta eat some with me!” his mouth quirked up into a boyish grin. Gojo never lost his childishness and that was something you had always admired, even if his personality constantly irked you during your tween years. Nonetheless, you both stay loyal to one another.

You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Why’re ya smiling like a weirdo? You got a crush on me or somethin’? He teased, using his free hand to boop the fluff of your cheek with his pointer finger. He never failed to ruin the moment. Typical Gojo. You sighed, running a hand over your face. “Shut up Gojo, let's go find Megumi before something bad happens to the kid.” you huffed, earning a laugh from your companion.

___

“You didn’t tell me the cursed object was Ryomen Sukuna’s finger.”

“You never asked.”

“You little-”

“What’s the situation?” he suddenly spoke, cutting you off whilst catching the attention of both Megumi and the strawberry haired male. You knew in an instance that this male was the vessel of Ryomen Sukuna. He emitted the curse energy of Sukuna himself. You always felt a connection to Sukuna and had helped find several clues and his fingers, resulting in the higher-ups permanently putting you on this case. 

 “Gojo-sensei! Why are you here?” Megumi exclaimed, his eyes soon darted to your figure right beside Gojo. “Y/n-sensei too?” he gaped. It was obvious that both you and his mentor were close, though, lately, it felt like there was something deeper going on between both of you. 

“Hey! How are you Megumi?” you chimed, approaching his wounded figure. “I don’t think he’s good Y/n. He’s all beat up!” he responded, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket. “I should show the second-years!”. He laughed as he snapped a few embarrassing pictures to send to his other students, causing Megumi to turn and hide his shame, along with his injuries. 

 “The higher-ups wouldn't shut up with a special-grade cursed object missing, so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing.” he huffed, knowing Gojo, he rolled his eyes. You did understand his dislike for the higher-ups. They tended to be more traditional and strict with their ways, while Gojo was...not. Of course, you would always stand by Gojo, even if it meant going up against your superiors. It was all or nothing with him. 

“Then Y/n showed up! I don’t even know where she came from!” he loudly exclaimed, as if he wasn’t that skilled to the point where he could sense you the moment you step into the vicinity. You rolled your eyes, whilst the two boys sweatdropped. “So, did you find it?” he queried, staring directly at his student. 

“Um… Sorry, but I ate it” the strawberry-haired male awkwardly chimed in. 

A pause. 

“For real?”

“For real.” the two replied in unison.

Gojo moved to observe him, leaning in close to his face. His chin propped onto his right hand in contemplation, a little pout forming onto his lips. He leaned in close with a laugh before pulling away from the male. Sometimes Gojo forgot that boundaries existed. The thought made you sigh, your mind suddenly recalling the time Gojo had tried to convince you to take a bath with him while still being in the tub, the bubbles barely covering what they needed to cover. Of course, Gojo enjoyed teasing you, along with being able to see your cute flustered face. You were pulled out of your daydream as he suddenly spoke, not realizing that you had completely missed their conversation. 

“Then give us ten seconds. Once ten seconds are up, come back to us.” Gojo demanded as he stretched. You stretched your hand out towards him, taking his souvenir to protect it. You knew Gojo was craving to fight Sukuna. You could feel it. You were aware that he was stronger since he had only ingested one of twenty cursed fingers of Sukuna, but that still did not ease your anxiety. 

Megumi, knowing how much of an overthinker you are, gently grasped your hand hanging on your side, lightly squeezing it in reassurance, as if to say ‘He’ll be okay, he’s the strongest.” You proceeded to nod at him and return the gesture. You pulled out a clean handkerchief, moving to slowly wipe the blood away from his face, aware of the fact that it would take some time to get him the proper medical attention he needs. 

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I’m the strongest.” he cheekily responded. That eased your anxiety even more. You rolled your eyes once more at his cockiness. A small part of you hoped that Gojo would be graced with the opportunity to get his ass kicked, but a bigger part of you was aware of how strong Gojo was, and knew how quickly he would be able to defeat Sukuna’s vessel. 

You slowly sat beside Megumi, straightening the short length of your skirt while stretching your legs. You had a love-hate relationship with your jujutsu uniform, love because you looked amazing in it, and hate because a certain someone made your skirt length a tad bit too short. Of course, you wore shorts underneath, but it was still irrational to force all of the females to wear something as revealing as a skirt. 

Technically, it wasn’t mandatory for you to wear the uniform but Gojo insisted as it would raise “morale”.

As Gojo continued to ramble on, a dark figure was already ascending, aiming for Gojo himself. 

“Behind you!” yelled Megumi, frantically reaching for your hand to pull you away but you just brushed him off, patting his knee to reassure him. “Don’t worry Megumi, I got you, just let Gojo have his fun.” he slowly nodded, still listening to his mentor ramble about mochi. 

In a split second, Gojo was sitting atop of Sukuna, whilst Sukuna was crouched between your thighs, his arms on either side of your legs, the skin of your thighs barely brushing against his forearms. You laughed at his incredulous expression before raising a hand to pat his cheek and mockingly pouting before blowing him a kiss. Leaving him stunned, he quickly snapped out of his daydream before continuing to attack Gojo. 

___

Your eyes fluttered open, the bed of flowers soft underneath your fingertips. You glanced around, hoping to find something, someone, anything familiar within the vicinity. Panic engulfed you, bile steadily rising in your throat. Tears began to gather in your eyes. Being in unfamiliar places had always given you a large amount of anxiety, especially since you’d just been sitting beside your pupil while watching your best friend fight the king of curses. 

“What are you doing just sitting there dumbass?” a gruff voice called from behind you. You whipped your head back, hoping to find someone you know, but no such luck. The person behind you was quite intimidating. They emitted straight power and confidence. Unable to say anything, you stood there gaping at the stranger.

“What? Why’re you staring at me Y/n? You like me that much?” he teased, stepping closer to your figure to brush the stray leaves that had fallen onto your head. Even if he was a stranger, you felt no need to flinch or run away from him. The air around him had a sense of familiarity. As if he were a warm blanket amidst a harsh winter. You wanted to wrap yourself in him, feel him and his warmth. His love.

“Come on, let’s go princess. I don’t need you getting sick ‘cuz you were being a dumbass.” he sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist before pressing a kiss on your forehead.

At that moment, everything had faded away, leaving you with nothing but butterflies and the tingling sensation left on your forehead from his loving kiss.

___

You glanced at your shocked pupil. His eyes are wide with his mouth agape. “Y/n-sensei… Have you finally lost it? Y-You just patted Sukuna’s cheek!” he loudly exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. You laughed before avoiding his gaze, concealing the visible traces of shock etched on your face with a smile. 

That vision. You have never had something of that sort ever occur in your lifetime. Your mind was completely muddled. Barely registering the next words that leave Gojo’s mouth. 

“Both my student and my future girlfriend are watching, so I’m going to show off a little,” he smirked, leaning back onto Sukuna. They continued to fight, not that you were paying attention. You felt Gojo’s stare land on you a couple of times, yet your mind was still occupied with what you had seen. 

You suddenly shot up, carrying Megumi as Sukuna’s vessel came skidding towards the both of you. You ran behind Gojo, knowing that it would be safer for Megumi. You sighed once more before sitting Megumi down. Dusting your skirt, you dug into Gojo’s bag of treats before munching on a piece of mochi. 

“You jujutsu sorcerers are always trouble, no matter what era!” Sukuna growled, pointedly staring at you as he launched another attack at Gojo. “Though that doesn’t mean much to me.” he continued smugly before his eyes widened, seeing as the three of you had come out fully unscathed.

Megumi sighed as Gojo continued to count down, Sukuna’s vessel returning to his body once more after ten seconds, just as Gojo had instructed him to do so. You droned out for the rest of the conversation, lost in your thoughts on who the male could be. It couldn't be Gojo, the male's voice had a gruffness that Gojo didn’t have. 

“You can really control it.” Gojo mused, stepping towards him. 

“He’s kind of annoying though, I can hear his voice. He keeps mentioning this girl. Her name is Y/n I think? He keeps cursing her out! Saying things like ‘After almost a millennia she shows up!’ and ‘I’m never forgiving her, no matter how pretty she looks in that skirt.’ and--” he paused, scratching the back of his head. “He just swore at me for exposing him.” 

Both Gojo and Megumi turned to you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. You froze. You weren’t sure of what these two wanted to hear, as you are just as clueless to the situation as they are. Contemplating how to answer, you ended up shrugging your shoulders, stuffing your face with even more mochi, resulting in Gojo sighing before knocking out and carrying the male. 

___

You sighed, throwing yourself onto your bed before glancing at the cursed object currently on the palm of your hand. Sukuna’s severed finger was long while his nails were sharp. You traced the skin of the fingers, your curiosity getting the best of you. You studied his fingers from time to time but never got tired of looking at them, feeling the immense power it held. 

“Why are you still up?” 

“Fuck you Satoru. I hate it when you sneak up on me like that you bastard,” you grumbled, shoving your face even further into your pillows to avoid seeing his cheeky smile that you adored. “Aw. You’re so mean to me,” he fake pouted. “I just wanna be… appreciated,” he yelled in tiny, quoting that one lady. 

“Come here. Take off your jacket and go change into proper nightclothes, assuming you’re staying the night again.” rolling your eyes. Satoru had made a habit of sleeping in your room, leaving his quarters almost always vacant. He basically lived with you! Even when both of you would see each other almost every day! Excluding the days when you are both on missions. 

He smiled before rummaging through your drawers and silently made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft ‘click’”

When he came back, you were already fast asleep. Your fluffy sheets enveloping your whole figure, making you look so small in the mess of sheets you peacefully laid in. So beautifully peaceful. He smiled, leaning down to give your forehead a small peck, then situating himself beside your figure and pulling your body into his arms, knowing how well you slept when you were held. 

___

You inwardly groaned, feeling as if your head was about to be split into two. You looked around, stuck in an unfamiliar place once more. This time, it was real life. You could feel it. You were able to control all your actions unlike during the first occurrence. Meaning that the vision you experienced may have been a memory, maybe from your past life. 

This place had a menacing aura, a silent force pushing you to bend to its will. You knew better. Being an experienced sorcerer yourself. You grasped the holsters located under your skirt, silently clutching the pair of your guns before walking forward. You were able to enclose your cursed energy into your guns, shooting them out whenever and however you pleased. 

“Nice guns. I remember when you didn’t use any weapons at all. Only using your cursed energy to fight. You were a much better fighter back then.” a voice drawled, a shiver going up your spine. You whipped around, eyes widening at the King of Curses sitting on his rightful throne. “What are you talking about Ryomen Sukuna?” you growled, clicking the safety off of your weapons. 

“So formal. You used to call me Su-chan, you know?” he smirked, greedily enjoying your facial expressions. “That was then. Before you fucked me over,” he growled, his face contorting into anger. “You don’t remember what you did to me. Do you? You’re selfish. Then and now. You’re so fucking selfish. Get out before I lose my patience with you.” he growled, fists balling. 

Your jaw dropped in shock. You didn’t expect his personality to flip so quickly.

“Fuck you, man. I don’t even know you. You don’t even know me like that. Stop acting like you do! What do you mean ‘back then’? You’re swearing at me without even telling me what I did!” one step. “You’re a bitch!” two steps. “You’re a pussy!” three steps. “Fuck you!” you were running now. “You’re a fucking dick! Suck my dick!” you spat right in front of his face, leaving him stunned. Who was crazy enough to curse out the literal King of Curses?

One, in his domain. Two, when he’s no less than a foot away. And three, to his actual face. Only an absolute mad person. It was a fitting description. You angrily peeked at his expression. Waiting for him to obliterate you. His hooded expression is dark. You stilled, unsure of what to do. He… He wasn’t moving nor speaking. Could you just leave? You weren’t even aware of where you are or how you even got here. 

“Hey... Are you okay? You haven’t moved in a while. I’m sorry for swearing at you, but you kinda deserved it, not gonna lie.” scratching your head. You continued to stand awkwardly, hoping that he would just stop tormenting you with the silence.

“He-Ah!” you screeched as you were pulled into his lap. His arms wrapping around your waist to constrict you from moving, his hands entwining behind your back. You positioned one of your pistols beneath his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. He smirked, placing a kiss on the barrel of your gun, further flustering you, warmth spreading to your cheeks. 

“You still don’t know how to listen. After a thousand years.” he chuckled. “You’re still the same. Disregarding my anger, even though you’re aware of what I’m capable of.” he softly smiled. An unfamiliar sight. “You never liked listening to me in the first place did you?” he queried, tilting his head up to face you. The grip on your gun faltering. You leaned into him, your weapons falling down your side, clattering down the floor. Sukuna licked his lips.

You moved to kiss him. Your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer to you, your lips fully pressing against his. The feeling of his lips hot and familiar on yours. You moved to clutch his hair, wanting to pull him into you, only for your world to break apart, plunging you into darkness. 

___

You jolted awake, flying off of your bed and into the bathroom. Startling Gojo in the process. You splashed water onto your face in hopes of somehow calming your heart down. You remembered your dream vividly. Heavy footsteps made their way to you. You turned to face Satoru, tearing stinging your eyes as he automatically opened his arms and pulled you in.

“What’s wrong kiddo?” he cooed, pressing soft kisses onto your forehead. ‘Kiddo’ had been a childhood nickname bestowed upon you by your childhood friend himself. Seeing as you were younger than him. You clutched him tighter, wanting to feel him surround your whole body. 

“I don’t know bunny. I just don’t know anymore.” you continued to sob whilst Satoru continued to hold you, his concern evident through the crease of his eyebrows, his bright cerulean eyes piercing through you. You didn’t understand what you were going through. Were you upset because of your affiliation to Sukuna? Were you upset because of the kiss? How were you going to tell Satoru about the kiss?

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on. Even though I might already know. But, just try to calm down okay? Can you take deep breaths for me kiddo? Come on, you got this. You’re a good girl. In. Out. Yeah, that’s it baby.” he continued to comfort you, the sound of his voice soothing all your negative feelings and thoughts. 

After another ten minutes of standing in the bathroom wrapped in his arms, your cries have finally ceased, your soft sniffles and puffy red eyes the only proof of your sadness. “Come on kiddo, wash your face for me. It’ll fix the puffiness.” rubbing your arms before making his way out of the bathroom, giving you time to gather yourself. 

 Your mind drifted back to Sukuna. Your fingertips unconsciously drifting to your lips, the kiss plaguing your mind. He had spoken quite a bit about how you never listened. Very accurate but how would he have known? It wasn’t as if he knew you. The possibility of knowing Sukuna in one of your past lives was close to impossible. He must be playing tricks with you, trying to bend you to his will. You may have had a moment of weakness last night, but it was going to be the first and the last time you let yourself go in front of him. 

___

“Eat my ass Satoru!”

“Well, I’ve been trying for years bu-” he yelped, clutching the arm that you mercilessly attacked. He had a nasty habit of making too many sexual jokes. Of course, you weren’t going to deny the fact that you’ve shared similar thoughts, but you would rather jump out of a moving car than admit it to your best friend. Knowing him, his ego would triple and nobody had the time or patience for that. 

“You are so mean!” he pouted. 

“I am not! You’re just a little piss baby.”

“I’m filing for a divorce. I can’t tolerate this slander anymore.” he huffed, walking away after absolutely destroying him in Mario Kart. His pride took a hit. He had taught you that game! You couldn't be that much better than him, the screen displaying fifth place while you came second. You giggled as you followed him, clinging onto his arm as you peeked at his sour expression. 

“Don’t be a sore loser Satoru. It’s not cute.” you chastised. Pointing your index finger at him, resulting in him playfully biting at you. “So what I’m hearing is, I’m cute the rest of the time.” he flirted, lowering his sunglasses to wink at your steadily heating face.

“Sure, but we both know who’s the cutest.”

“Of course you’re the cutest kiddo.”

“I was talking about Nanami, but sure. That’s good too.”

His jaw dropped. Did you find Nanami cuter than him? The Gojo Satoru? He was visibly stressing, running a hand through his soft snowy locks before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. You’re not cute. You can go play with Nanami. I don’t like you anymore.” he pouted once more, shaking you off of him. “Noo-” you tightened your hold on him, pulling him to the exit of the arcade. “Let’s go get ramen. My treat since you’re so cute.” You teased.

You smiled at him before facing forward, missing the way Satoru’s lips parted in awe, a light blush dusting his soft pale cheeks. His wide eyes are full of love hidden behind the lens of his sunglasses. He turned away from you, placing his vacant hand on his chest, a futile attempt at calming down his racing heart. 

“Okay.”

___

“Oh. You’re back.” he deadpanned, eyes boring into your figure. The setting was different today. Instead of being in what you had assumed what his domain looked like, you were sitting beside him on the engawa of a quaint traditional Japanese home. You scowled, furrowing your eyebrows as you scowled at the nonchalant male.

You lunged at him, hoping to pin him down to press for answers. Not realizing that your attire had also changed, tripping on the length of your floral patterned yukata, resulting in you landing on top of Sukuna himself. His eyebrows almost flying up to his hairline. 

You peeked at him. His hair dishevelled, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks. Your eyes trailed lower, unable to look him in the eyes. A mistake on your part. His white yukata had slightly unravelled, exposing his tan, golden chest to your wandering eyes. Your mouth is drying up at the sight. Unconsciously licking your lips. 

His shocked expression replaced with his usual smirks, his fangs making an appearance. “Didn’t know that you wanted it that bad, princess. What’s wrong? Your little friend isn't enough for you?” he sneered, gripping your waist with his hands, his razor-sharp nails slightly digging into your sides, causing you to squirm uncomfortably. 

“What is your problem you freak?” you growled, fisting the fabric of his clothes. 

“Me? I’m not doing shit babe. It’s you who has a problem.” he scoffed, sitting up, inching his face close to yours. Your noses lightly bump into each other as you felt your cheeks heat at the contact. 

“Why so shy princess? I remember when you used to make me eat my words. You were so cute back then. Thinking that you owned me, thinking that you were in charge of me. Learn where you stand. You are nothing to me” 

Lies continued to spew out of his mouth like vomit. He knew he was lying. He knew that you had him wrapped around your finger that moment he saw your face once more. The anger of the past dissipated. Only you left. It wasn’t his fault. You were his only love and you left him. Well, that's how he saw it. 

The pain of losing his love had left an ever-present scar on his nonexistent heart. You had been the only person to ever stay by his side, no matter how much he tried to push you away, to insult you, make you hate him. To no avail, you bulldozed your way into his life and his heart. 

“Stop lying to me. I know you’re lying. I can feel you lying Sukuna. I-I don’t know how to explain it...but I just know. I don’t know you, but you feel so familiar. Your habits, your personality. I keep getting flashbacks, or memories. I’m not sure. Though, I do know that they aren’t mine. At least… not in this life…” you trailed off, avoiding his piercing gaze. “But I know that the guy in those visions are you. It just… feels like you. Your warmth, your words, your voice…even your touch” you gently placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes for no sole reason. Only wanting to feel his energy. Feel him. 

He sighed. 

“Still the same as ever, princess. Always find your way into my heart” he heartily chuckled before continuing, placing the warm palm of his hand against your cheek. Your eyes flutter open at the contact. “I’ll explain since you asked so nicely” he winked, patting your cheek almost mockingly, reminding you of the time you once did the same. Heat rose to your cheeks. 

“So…” he started.

████████████████

What.

████████████████████████████████

What was going on?

████████████████

You saw his mouth moving though no words escaped. You tilted your head in confusion, causing him to pause before cupping your cheeks.

████████████████████████

No words were heard. You were even unable to hear your cries.

████████

“I’m sorry.”

Then black.

© katsukisbimbo 2021 — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated. please be kind and enjoy! ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!

[captains-simp]

hey! so i love wanda and i was wondering if you could write one kind of enemies to lovers or something like that where reader and wanda don't get along well, jealous scene or maybe a very suggestive fight. very angst but happy fluffy ending please

Enemies to lovers owns my whole gay heart and I CANNOT write it without there being sexual tension so xksksjsks smut alert

@g-cordelia hope it's okay to combine your request with this too so there's a healthy dose of angst and fluff with it

"Please don't go."

"Don't you fucking lie to me."

Warnings: choking, fingering, spanking, strap on sex, mentions of oral and hints at mild injury

6k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

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"Your actions jeopardised the whole mission." Steve said sternly before raising his voice when he saw he received no reaction from you or the redhead. "Whatever is going on between you has to stop!"

"You say that like it's ever been any different." Natasha added.

The pair that usually felt like the protective big brother and sister of the team where acing the role of disappointed parents. Admittedly that did make you feel bad, but Wanda showed no signs of giving an apology and you would be damned if you did first.

Natasha and Steve waited for any kind of response from either of you and got nothing. You and Wanda continued to glare at each other from opposite sides of the table, your stubnorness stopping either of you from looking at the two standing at the head of the table.

"Just write up your reports." Steve sighed, giving into the tension of the room before anyone else. If it had been just you, Wanda and Natasha there was no telling how long you'd be in there.

You both got up from the table at the same time, still refusing to break eye contact.

"Y/n stay behind a minute." Oh so they're switching it up to disappointed teachers now. Your attention fell to Steve in a look of confusion although that didn't mean you missed the smirk that played on the corner of Wanda's lips. You cursed her like a sailor in your head and hoped she heard but her back was to you and she was strolling out the room.

"I thought you guys were getting better." Steve sighed as he leant against the table.

"We were when we didn't have to talk to each other." You said honestly. There had been a few weeks prior where you and Wanda had had no missions together and therefore had no reason to talk or train with one another.

"You can't resort to avoiding each other as a way to solve your problems. All that does is make things escalate even more when you're actually together which will inevitably happen. Because believe it or not you two are on the same side and have to act like it." Natasha said sternly. You stared down at the table and thought about how how her words were. But it wasn't like you had that warning before.

When the pair infront of you knew you weren't going to say anything in response Steve filled the silence once again. "You're both suspended from missions until you can learn to work together." He decided.

"What?!" You cried as you snapped your head towards them and stood up. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly." Natasha said. You looked frantically between the two in disbelief.

"Alright." You said finally and clenched your jaw. You turned around and left the room without objection from the two Avengers, heading straight towards Wanda's room.

You never really knew why you and Wanda never got on. Maybe it was because she reminded you so much of the popular girls in high school you always envied while wanting them in your bed...no, it definetly couldn't be that. You just didn't know what.

It didn't take long to get there when you were walking like you were out for blood, that wouldn't be an unexpected result of what you planned. You banged on her door several times in a closed fist so it didn't take her long to answer.

She looked concerned when she opened the door and as soon as she realised it was you that same smirk from the meeting room fell back into place.

"Did they ground you?" She asked as she leant against the doorframe.

"Suspended." You spat. A shit eating grin started to appear but you wiped that off her face instantly. "Both of us."

"What the fuck? I didn't-"

"Yes you fucking did and now I'm paying for it too. You wanna know the best part? We can't go back in the field until we can work together nicely." You said bitterly.

"Why don't they just keep us on separate missions?"

"You can go ask them that later. Right now we're training." You said simply and you grabbed her forearm and pulled her out of her room down the corridor.

"We just got back." Wanda argued but followed you anyway after slapping your hand off her.

"Not prepared to put the work in, witchy?" You mocked, not looking at her as you marched through the compound.

"Don't call me that?" Wanda warned as she kept your pace.

"What are you gonna do? Read my mind?" You continued to taunt as you arrived in the gym and made your way to the mats.

Wanda put her red jacket on the floor and stepped away to take up her position as she eyed you. "I could snap all your bones into pieces so small they could be mistaken for ash." Wanda said stoicly.

"I don't think that's gonna get you another mission." You replied calmly, knowing that while there was a truth to Wanda's words she would never give you more than a split lip or bloody nose in the worst training sessions.

"Don't be a smartass y/n, it doesn't suit you." Your jaw clenched at her words.

Without warning, the entirety of your right arm lit up in flames and was aimed at Wanda in an instant.

You sent a wave of fire her way that she swiftly engulfed in her powers and sent back towards you. She looked less than impressed from your warningless attack.

"That was tacky." She said.

"I know, seemed fitting for you." You grinned but stopped when the red mist surrounded your body and lifted you into the air before a larger wave of fire was sent hurtling down to the redhead. The wall of fire blocked her view of you and subsequently dropped you to the ground as she dealt with the flames.

As soon as you landed and the fire parted you sent another blast Wanda's way only for her to do the exact same thing. You both ducked at the same time, your powers hitting opposite walls and leaving marks Tony would be on your asses about when he found out.

Wanda was clearly thinking the same thing. "We can't use our powers in an enclosed space, especially not yours." She said, her accent thickly woven into her voice.

"Okay then, let's see if Natasha's lessons have paid off." You said as you raised your fists and got into your defensive stance. Wanda mirrored you the way she had been taught and narrowed her eyes.

"They definelty have." She insisted as her eyes flickered over your form to try and identify your weak points already in a very obvious way.

"Just try to keep up." You mocked and swiftly moved to swipe her legs out from under her but she was surprisingly prepared. She jumped up to avoid your attack and kicked her leg out mid air and landed it on the center of your chest. You stumbled back in shock while Wanda looked very proud of herself. The last time you saw Wanda train it was clear she wasn't familiar with close range hand to hand combat. You hadn't expected her to improve so significantly in such a short amount of time.

You gritted your teeth and went for her stomach this time which she easily avoided but wasn't expecting another attack to follow so quickly. She blocked the continuous blows from you until you saw your moments and kicked one of her legs out from under her. Your mistake was thinking you succeeded the moment she was down because she spun around and kicked both of your legs out. You caught yourself partly as Wanda stood up so you were on kneeling.

Wanda's smirk was quick to take place when she saw your position, not missing the opportunity. "You look good when you're on your knees." She quipped.

Your eyes widened at her boldness and a heat rose up your neck that you knew wasn't your powers. You rolled back on the balls of your feet and swiftly stood up to look anywhere but the smug redhead infront of you.

"No snarky remark for that?" She challenged and you charged at her again. Anger feuled your attacks making them miscordinated and all round bad.

"Shut the fuck up, Maximoff." You huffed and made her grin even more at the clear signs that she was getting to you.

One of your punches was pushed to the side and Wanda took the chance to show you just how much she had learnt from Nat. You weren't entirely sure how she even did it it was so quick. Your arm was outstretched behind your back painfully due to Wanda's unrelenting grip on it and made it that much easier to push one of your legs down onto the floor. She held you like that for longer than necessary, soaking up the view of you struggling in her grasp.

"Get off." You snapped and winced when she pulled your arm back more.

"What's the magic word?" She teased.

"Now." You demanded. She tutted and pulled harder. "Maximoff!" You ordered through the pain. She leaned down beside you as her voice dropped to a low whisper.

"Beg." It was one word but you couldn't deny the effect it had on you. It was as though her light breath on your ear shot throughout your body and settled in a place you really didn't want it to.

You were about to object and tell her to stop being a bitch but her grip tightened and she pulled to a point where you thought your arm might just snap off under any more pressure.

"Please." You cried through gritted teeth. She instantly let go all too quickly and you collapsed onto the mat on your front. You heard her chuckle menacingly but cut herself off when Nat appeared in the doorway.

"We told you to write up your reports, not train." Natasha scolded as she watched you massage your shoulder and glare at Wanda.

"Sorry, just got a bit carried away." Wanda smiled, her innocent and sweet act that she put up for everyone except you returning. "Y/n's had enough now anyway." She smirked to herself.

"Fucking psycho." You muttered loud enough for her to hear but not Nat. Her jaw visibly clenched from that making you revel in the small victory as you finally got up from the mat.

"Just get on with the reports." Nat sighed and turned to leave as Wanda called out.

"On it."

"Aww, you trying to be a good girl, Maximoff?" You mocked as the pain subsided and your need to overrule what had happened came through.

"I don't have the time to stress over that, not when I'm busy putting brats in their place." Wanda said as she advanced towards you with a look you had only ever seen aimed at those you were fighting against.

"What?" You whispered as you backed up and felt your back hit the wall. Wanda's hand came up suddenly and wrapped itself around your throat firmly and cut off your breathing. Your eyes widened as you grabbed at her hands but she didn't budge. She looked amused at your efforts as her head tilted slightly to the side.

"And you certainly need to learn your place." She took her hand away and left you gasping for air for a split second before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the gym.

You stumbled a little as you tried to keep up with Wanda's long strides you could usually match. Your whole body was already trembling in anticipation, more so by the tension filled silence between you both as you travelled through the compound and ended up outside the redhead's room.

She opened her door and shoved you into her room swiftly. You didn't have much chance to take in your surroundings because the Sokovian gripped the back of your neck and forced you to lay on your stomach on her bed.

She made quick work of your clothes, discarding them to some soon forgotten about corner.

You turned your head to the side and gripped the sheets as you felt Wanda's slim fingers trialing up the back of your thighs before she gripped them roughly and forced them apart and lifted your lower half up. Her fingers returned and glided along your drippikg folds, collecting your arousal as she reveled in the effect she had on you.

"What was it that made you this wet, slut? Was it being on your knees for me? Begging me? Or did you enjoy the pain? I bet you enjoyed me choking you too." She chuckled darkly and didn't wait for you to respond.

She slipped two fingers inside your soaking cunt without warning making you gasp out in pleasure. Her fingers curled inside you beautifully, brushing some kind of nerve ending every second they were buried inside you. She had you a moaning, quivering mess in no time.

"Wanda...fuck! Right there, oh God!" She snickered against your skin as she worked her fingers expertly. Even then she wanted to test you. Well it was more that she was setting you up for failure.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear another sound from that whiny mouth." She ordered and you couldn't help but shiver from her dominant nature.

Of course it didn't last long. Her fingers felt so damn perfect inside you and you couldn't help but moan at the unspeakable pleasure.

She brought her hand down fast and landed it on your ass with a harsh smack that echoed through the room. She did it to both of your asscheeks until they were bright red and you were trembling. The sadistic redhead didn't stop there, she continued to rain down smacks that edged you further to your edge with the pleasurable pain.

Soon, you were moaning into the air as you came around Wanda's slim fingers, desperatly clenching around them in an attempt to prolong the pleasure. Thankfully, she kept pumping her fingers inside you, not caring when the overstimulation kicked in. She even started scissoring her fingers inside you, stretching your walls in a way that has you whimper loudly.

"Gotta stretch you a little to get you ready for my piece, sweetheart." She said in a sinister tone. "There's no way you'd be able to take it otherwise, it's already going to reck you with its size." She husked into your ear and withdrew her fingers, spanking you again when you whined.

Wanda got off the bed and disappeared into her closet, shortly returning with a large strap secured around her waist and pointed at you. You whimpered at the sight of it, not sure you could handle its size.

The Sokovian kneeled behind you and gripped your hips with both her hands as she lined up the strap with your entrance.

"I'm going to fill you up so nicely, Princess. Gonna have your cumming in no time." She husked, her voice dripping with lust.

A scream was ripped from your throat when Wanda thrust the entirety of the strap into your pussy. She set about her harsh, abusing pace instantly and preened at the sound of the pleasure filled cries that left you.

She grabbed a fistful of your hair and slammed your head down into the pillows on your side do she could still hear all of your desperate moans. The rough action earned the redhead a cry of her name.

Her pace was unrelenting, everytime she thrust back into you she somehow managed to hit deeper, pounding the toy against the most sensitive and pleasurable part of your cunt.

"Mommy!" You moaned loudly, not realising your slip up until the words left your lips. Your eyes widened and you feared Wanda's response, but what you got was a smack from the redhead that stung your ass in the best way. Her fucked you with increasing vigor too, wanting you title to spill from your lips again. And it did. Over and over, each time going straight to Wanda's pussy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You whimpered as you gripped onto the sheets tighter to prepare yourself for your release. But Wanda pulled the strap out the the very tip and held it there as she leant over to whisper in your ear.

"Beg me." She ordered and you whimpered again. It wasn't like you hadn't already submitted to the red head you hated but begging would be something that would loom over you for a while.

Your thoughts clashed with the overwhelming need from your pussy as it desleratly tried to clamp down on the tip that didn't provide nearly enough pleasure.

"Please, Wanda." You whispered.

"Please who?" She asked sweetly, clearly testing you making you groan.

"Please, mommy just let me cum." You whined and Wanda smacked your ass hard. She edged the dildo in further ever so slowly and stopped again.

"Mommy, please! I need to cum." You tried again, desperation seeping into your voice. Wanda hummed.

"I can see that." She mused as she rubbed small circles on your throbbing and soaked clit. "I just don't see why I should, brat." She punctuated the name with a harsh slap to your ass again and you caught onto what she was hinting at.

"Please, I'll...I'll be so good for you, mommy."

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yes! Please mommy I'll be so so good for you. Just please please let me c-" You were abruptly cut off by your own whorish moan as Wanda snapped her hips forwards and filled you up entirely.

One of her hands tangled itself in your hair and forced your head down into the pillows, not stopping your incoherent babbles filling the room along with the sound of your pussy being fucked by Wanda and her thighs slapping against yours.

The Sokovian tugged on your hair again so your head was off the pillow.

"I'm gonna cum!" You cried out into the air.

"That's it, baby. Soak my fucking cock." And with that demand you came harder than you ever had around Wanda's strap and moaned continuously as the redhead prolonged your pleasure by continuing to pound into you.

But it soon became too much for your sensitive pussy. You squirmed away from Wanda but she placed one hand on the middle of your back to keep you flat against the bed.

"Too much." You managed to say, however the redhead didn't seem to care.

"I'm nowhere near done with you, Princess."

*

Laying panting and gripping onto Wanda's bedsheets like a lifeline wasn't exactly what you expected to be doing on a Thursday night. You were drenched in sweat and although Wanda had pulled out the toy minutes prior, you were sure you could still feel it filling you up, the faint throbbing a forewarning of what was to come.

It took you a while to gather the strength to get up. With anyone else you probably would have just stayed the night in their bed, but you weren't sure you could do that with Wanda. Although she wouldn't kick you out, you didn't like the thought of sleeping beside the redhead. It seemed far too...soft? Whatever it was, you were sure Wanda would agree.

You searched for your clothes while she took a most likely deliberately long shower, images of her naked figure covered in water invading your mind.

Once you cursed them away they were just replaced with flashes of what you had been doing for all those hours, remembering how she pulled on your hair as she praised you when you went down on her. Of course you did that while on your knees.

What happened between you and Wanda wasn't a one time thing. In fact it became increasingly common until you were in each other's beds almost every night. You would have been fuck buddies if you had considered each other a friend.

It worked. You and Wanda were able to work out your pent up frustration towards each other in a way that didn't hurt one another....well, if that didn't include the scratches along Wanda's back and the constant aching between your legs.

You didn't even make snide comments about each other in meetings or during training. You were able to keep everything in the bedroom.

The success of what you two had going forced you to ignore the noteable change in feelings you had towards Wanda. You saw her differently but couldn't quite tell how. Sometimes it was as though the unplaceable emotion you had towards her from from start spiked and other times you were purely confused.

It was always most prominent after she made you crash over the edge of bliss or when she came undone beneath you. Those moments when your bodies went limp and you were caught up in each other's embrace because you didn't have the energy to move. Hearing her exhausted breathing match her rising and falling chest and faint heartbeat if you had your head on her chest. Those tender moments were the ones that caught you off guard.

You refused to make a big deal out of it though. You refused to investigate your feelings or even acknowledge them. What you had with Wanda was the most efficient thing you could do. You didn't want to muck it up but you knew it couldn't go on forever. Another labelless feeling emerged at that thought.

Natasha was the only one who knew what you were doing. Neither of you told her, the spy was able to figure it all out on her own quickly and confronted you both about it once, only saying to be careful. That was the only time she addressed it verbally but you could always feel her watching you both carefully when you trained.

You thought it was going great. You and Wanda had finally been cleared for a mission that you would both be on, the team certainly needed the man power. That was until Nat told you otherwise.

"What do you mean I'm not going?!" You exclaimed across the room. You had seen Nat in the meeting room looking up something on her tablet and had gone in to enquire something about the mission that was long forgotten.

"I've thought about it and you and Wanda still aren't deemed the most reliable when put together for a mission, with this one being as important as it is we can't afford to make mistakes." Natasha sighed.

"So why don't you take Wanda off the mission? I have more experience."

"Her powers are perfectly fitted to this mission, we need her."

"And not me." You knew you came across as petty, but you had been dying to go back into the field.

"Y/n." Nat tried but you scoffed and glared at the screens with those assigned to the mission. Your eyes found Wanda's picture first and your jaw clenched at the sight of her ridiculously attractive face.

"What did she say to you?" You demanded as something clicked in your brain.

"She didn't say anything, this is my judgement." Natasha began but you didn't buy it.

"We both know if it was you you would have told me as soon as you decided it. You had no issue with me and Wanda being on this mission before. Hell, you cleared us both for the field." Nat glanced down at her tablet guiltily as she searched her brain for another hopeless lie.

"This is unbelievable." You scoffed and turned sharply on your heels to storm out of the room, ignoring your name being called by Nat.

You soon found Wanda in the kitchen making herself a coffee as she hummed softly. You willed your brain to ignore the warmth you got from seeing the redhead in her own, peaceful world.

"Do you have a problem with me?" You demanded, snapping her out of her trance. She visibly figited when she saw you approach her and lean on the edge of the kitchen island on you hands with an expectant look.

"No?" She said, seeming unsure.

"Don't you fucking lie to me." She seemed startled by your increasing aggression.

"What are you talking about?" She asked as she stirred her drink.

"Don't play dumb with me, Maximoff. You got me off the mission!" Wanda stopped her movements as she froze, clearly caught off guard by your discovery. Given how Nat had acted you guessed you weren't meant to find out it was Wanda who said something.

"It's for the best." She finally said but avoided your eye.

"It is not your place to decide what's best for me, you don't get to do that." You argued.

"There should only be a few people on the mission." She tried.

"I know that, I've seen the intel. But we already discussed that those people should be powered. Why am I being taken off?" You demanded again.

"It's dangerous." She muttered as she stared down at her drink.

"It's my fucking job. You think I don't know that."

"Of course you do, but there's a bigger risk than the usual missions we've been on. A bigger risk of you getting hurt." She muttered the last bit, like she wasn't entirely sure she wanted you to hear her. Granted, Wanda showing concern for your safety was new.

"Any one of us could get hurt." You said, lowering your voice marginally.

"But it's you I'm worried about." She insisted. It was your turn to become uncomfortable, shifting slightly under her gaze that held something new.

"I can take care of myself." You said as you crossed your arms, feeling a sudden defensive need to protect yourself.

"I know... but I care about you." You exhaled slowly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable at the tone of her voice. "If something happened to you..." She continued, "I don't know what I would do." Her voice was barely above a whisper, the softness laced in it undeniable. It sparked something in you. Something you didn't want to accept.

"Good luck on your mission, Maximoff." You said through gritted teeth and went to leave but Wanda was behind you instantly and took ahold of your hand to pull you back.

"Wait, I wasn't done-"

"Well I am." You snapped and yanked your hand out of her grip.

"What..?" She said slowly.

"If you don't want to work with me then we won't, no need to keep fucking anymore." You huffed and went to walk away.

"That wasn't what I-"

"Stop!" It wasn't a cry of anger. It was pure desperation. Your pleading look took Wanda by surprise and pained her to see. "Just stop before you say something you can't unsay." You said shakily. Your unspoken message was received. You didn't want to hear about Wanda's feelings towards you. She just didn't know it was because you were afraid that it would uncover what you had been feeling all along. You couldn't handle it. You were scared.

Wanda nodded, defeated, and let you go. You were filled with grief as you walked away, your footsteps feeling heavier than usual. You wanted to look back, to go back to her. But you couldn't.

*

You distracted yourself with a particularly ruthless training session the day of Wanda's mission. Carol showed you no mercy in sparring, weight lifting and boxing - even encouraging power use every now and then. But your mind still wandered to the redhead the way it usually did.

When you finally collapsed on the mat in defeat Carol chuckled and tossed you your waterbottle before encouraging an ice bath and strolling out of the gym for her evening flight.

You stayed on the floor for a while after you finished your water, only stopping staring up at the ceiling when Nat's outline blocked the lights. You sat up and looked at her hopefully, seeing that she was back from monitoring the mission and didn't seem distraught or upset.

"How did it go?" You asked as she sat down across from you.

"It was a success." She said but she didn't seem all that happy.

"And everyone's okay?" You asked cautiously. Nat gave a half shug and sighed lightly.

"There was ice - a lot if it and it was so cold. Dangerously cold." Nat started. You tried not to clench your jaw or show any signs of annoyance, knowing there was no need to point out that mission was fitted for you and your powers that would have guaranteed everyone's safety.

"Wanda got a little cut up, it was impossible to fight on that ground." You eyed the door and bit your lip, refraining from giving in to the urge to go see her.

"She doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but she needs seeing to the cut." Nat said as she placed a first aid kit down infront of you. She was back already? And why did you have the kit?

"She won't see anyone either." Nat said before you could verbally question her. It took a moment for you to understand what she was saying.

"I don't think she wants to see me, Nat." You said as you pushed it back her way only for her to toss it into your lap.

"Goddmit, y/n. Can you two stop dancing around each other and actually talk?!" She exclaimed.

"We tried that-"

"Talking, y/n, not shouting or arguing. Talking." She said firmly and got up before you could protest further.

You pondered over what Natasha said for a while. You knew she had a good point, that talking was exactly what you should have done from the start, but it was just another thing that frightened you.

"Your job is facing your fears." You muttered aloud to yourself.

You finally got up from the ground, first aid kit in hand, and trudged along the compound towards Wanda's room. You tried to figure out what you could say on the way. But it all came out a jumbled mess that made no sense. Multiple times you stopped in the hallways and considered turning back before convincing yourself to keep going.

You knocked softly on Wanda's door and was surprised that it opened for you. The redhead in question was sat on her bed with a pillow in her lap, fiddling with her hands the way she always did when she was anxious or deep in thought. That evening it was both.

She glanced up at you as you closed the door but turned back to her pillow quickly when you gave her a short smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.

Regardless, you cautiously walked towards her bed and sat down next to her with the small box between you. You brought one of your legs up under you so you could face Wanda and eyed the cut above her eyebrow in concern. She still didn't say anything, neither did you.

You opened up the small box and got out a pack of wound closure strips and carefully unwrapped one. Wanda didn't object to you gently holding the area around her cut as you placed the strip on and lightly smoothed over the edges until you were sure it would stay on.

"I let my emotions cloud my judgement." She mumbled as you prepped another strip.

"It happens to all of us." You said.

"But I didn't listen to you. I should have." You sighed and stopped unwrapping the strip to look up at the redhead and watch her closely. She looked back at you with a guilty and pained expression that was full of regret.

"Yeah." You nodded slowly as you went back to the medical tape and raised your hands to put it on but the Sokovian held your wrist to stop you. "What's done is done, so just let me put these on and we're good." You said but she still didn't let go.

"Just like that?" She questioned.

"The mission was a success. If I'd had been there you wouldn't have gotten hurt, that's all."

"You were really mad though." She continued and you put your hands down to rest them, not failing to notice that Wanda was still holding your wrist but with a much lighter grip.

"It's hard to stay mad at you." You admitted.

"You've always been mad at me."

"Well it wasn't exactly like you were the friendliest person to me." You pointed out. "I was never mad at you, Wanda. I just hated that... that you made me feel something I've never trusted, so I didn't trust you. It was never your fault, I was unfair." You admitted as you stared down at the tape the whole time, afraid to meet the redhead's eyes.

"What did you feel?" Wanda asked, her voice void of emotion making it more difficult for you to say. You gulped as you continued to stare at the tape, willing yourself to give Wanda the answer she needed. The answer she deserved.

"Love." You voice shook. "I loved... love you." You were shaking more as you finally looked up at Wanda. Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted like there was a million thoughts trying to be heard but without the ability to.

She didn't say anything for a while. A long while. She stared at you in disbelief then at her pillow as though it would give her all the answers.

Tears rushed to your eyes that you tried to blink away as your head swam with curses to yourself for admitting your feelings. You had opened up and been vulnerable to Wanda, and the result was the exact reason you had sworn to never do it again.

Once you were sure she wasn't going to say anything to you, you took it as your cue to leave. To leave so Wanda could prepare her rejection speech for you. However, as soon as you put your hand to the door she spoke out.

"Please don't go."

You turned around slowly and met her light brown eyes you had always found impossible not to get lost in when you had your fingers or tongue inside her. You timidly went back to the bed and paused before sitting down next to her, facing the wall instead of her this time.

"I thought it was one sided." She started and you felt yourself begin to shake with nerves again. "I thought you didn't love me back." You looked to Wanda quickly and searched her features for any signs of a lie, any signs that she was setting you up to push you down but she was gazing back at you longingly with tears glistening in her eyes.

"When you confronted me about the mission, I was going to say it then, you knew that." You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, remembering the fear you felt in that moment.

"I wasn't ready, I thought I wouldn't ever be but," You took a deep breath "I want to try, for you." You took ahold of Wanda's hand to reiterate your point. "I care about you too Wanda, so much. More than I could ever express or even handle and I didn't know what to do about it. I mean we've tried a fair few things now," You both laughed a little, "but it I don't think any of them are going to work as well as accepting it and...and I don't know." You looked to her for guidance because fuck did you need it. You needed Wanda to guide you down whatever path you chose to take, as long as she was there with you.

"Maybe we could start with something small." She suggested with a small smile that made her eyes shine.

"Like a coffee date?" You tried.

"Exactly like that." She confirmed, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Then I'll pick you up around 2." You said cheesily making Wanda laugh. "But first, I have to finish tending to this cut." You declared as you turned around to face her entirely and crossed your legs under you, pausing for a moment to give Wanda a short and sweet kiss.