#and since it's not midnight here just yet I figure it still counts

[notasdriedapricots]

Chapter 24: Made up Mind

"There ain't no rhyme, just wasted time Moonlight spotlight shining down on a made up mind and a love gone wrong There ain't no rhyme

The quiet behind a slamming door The break of a heart that won't break no more The getaway wheels in a straight line Serenade of a made up mind"                 - Made up Mind; The Bros. Landreth

"I really fucking hope she switches."

[queers-gambit]

Aces

prompt: ( requested ) during a terrible storm, you're invited to stay at your boss' house. years of tip-toeing around one another comes to an end when emotions are finally laid on the table.

pairing: Tommy Shelby x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders

word count: 3.5k+

warning: honestly, it's pretty tame. some cursing, kinda-sorta one bed, most def OC Tommy, fluff, author is def on the Grace Hating Train but it's mild.

With a grunt, you threw the file of paperwork from your hands across the empty room; scattering across the floor. You were agitated, grouchy, beyond exhausted, and yet, there was no use in trying to leave when the worst storm to ransack England was being unleashed from the seediest parts of hell.

All you wanted was to go to bed for about 16 hours, but as midnight ticked closer and closer, that dream was dwindling. You'd be lucky to get a few hours at this point since your job was demanding enough to warrant early mornings and late nights. But this night was later than ever before.

You often wondered if your employer's antics brought this hell-storm upon you all, but figured, God didn't care that much about Small Heath. He most certainly didn't care for the Devil running it.

"Woah!" A voice laughed when the file went flying. "Gott'an arm on yah, love! Nearly took me fuckin' eye out!"

"Ha-ha," you mocked John Shelby, your employer's younger brother. "What're you still doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same," he smirked, squatting so he was in front of you with an exaggerated pout. "Why're you still here, love? Tommy's still gotcha workin'?"

"No, it's my own vocation."

"Tommy don't pay overtime, sweetheart."

"No shit," your eyes rolled. "In case I'm the only one capable of seeing it, there's an outlandish storm outside that prevents me from getting home." You gestured around where you sat on the floor, surrounded by files and other paperwork, "So, what else was I gonna do to pass the time?"

"It's not that bad," he waved you off. "C'mon, I'm off t'the Garrison, come with me, love. We can drink 'til the storm passes, huh?"

"John, seriously, I'm warning you," you deadpanned, watching him adjust his flatcap.

"C'mon, sweet cheeks, we can endure it," he laughed, opening the door and literally being shoved back by the force of the wind. You didn't make a sound, just reaching to hold down the papers around you as he grunted and groaned, trying to shut the flailing door; only able to once he threw his entire weight into it.

"Told you," you mused, his face and coat dripping wet from the short time the door was open.

"So, you're staying here, then?" He asked, panting, trying to play off the entire ordeal.

"I figured I'd get some more work done, it's not like Tommy gives any days off," you shrugged.

"He'd give you whatever you asked for," John smirked, taking his coat off.

"No, he needs me to do shit on the daily, there aren't days off, John Boy," you rolled your eyes playfully. "But I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to work for you idiots."

"Hey," he pouted.

"Oh, honey, if it helps any, you're my favorite idiot!"

"Good," he pointed at you with a small laugh. "But seriously, love, if you need the day off, Tommy would do it."

"No, there's so much to do here," you frowned. "We're on track to reopen in a few weeks, and if I take a day off, we'll fall behind, and you know Tommy doesn't do delays."

The gambling den the Shelby's operated was getting a make over now that The Shelby Company Limited was soon to be up and running. Hence why you were there in an empty room with only files around you and a dimly lit lap, you were trying to get shit organized before furniture could be moved back in.

You would have to restock Polly's office, Tommy's, Arthur's, and John's - all of who were Company members and would need their space to work. Not to mention the completely different office Tommy was currently eyeing to use as his base of operation, something you, as his personal assistant, was expected to help with every step of the way. Honestly, it was a miracle Tommy was ever able to get shit done before you - an organizational Goddess.

"Well," John sighed, looking around for a moment before shrugging and placing his hands on his hips, "want some help?"

You chuckled, "No, it's all right, John, you go on. Surely the lads will be home soon - "

Speak of the Devil! And He will appear!

The door burst open, sending your files every which way from the gust of wind; several bodies shoving their way inside before the lone, single body of Tommy Shelby stalked in last. He shut the door without issue, being a force of nature himself; a professionally observant, silent, lone menace that commanded the attention of any room he walked into. People on the street parted for him like the Red Sea, flocked to the darkened parts of the streets just to get a glimpse of the gangster in motion.

For as long as you can remember, you've harbored overwhelming affection for your boss, but never once vocalized it out of sheer fear of rejection.

He was Thomas Shelby. He was an enigma; a mysterious, stoic man that instilled a sense of fear and respect from those around him. You included, but yet never dare let your admiration for your employer be known in public. You loved him from a distance; admiring him and feeling yourself fall further into your unrequited love due to the intimate proximity you shared. He's always treated you as exactly what you were - a valuable member of the Company and his personal assistant. You worked intimately together on a daily basis, and each night you went home, you would scream into a pillow out of sheer frustration.

Being his personal assistant meant you were constantly in close proximity, and no matter how hard you tried to fight your feelings, it was impossible. He was Thomas bloody Shelby - insanely suave, charismatic, a deep nut to crack, but once he opened up, he was insanely loyal, caring, even decently amusing. He was all you wanted, but never felt secure enough to admit your feelings for him.

You were greeted happily by the men, all piling into the Shelby home to take refuge from the storm. You were left to silently rock to your feet and start gathering the papers that had gone flying in their entrance, glancing up when a hand offered help in rounding up your supplies. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby, but I got it," you insisted quietly, accepting the pages he handed you.

Tommy always had a soft spot for you.

He was silent for a moment, then asked, "What're you still doin' here?"

"Storm makes it impossible to get home," you shrugged. "I was waiting until it lessened, but it doesn't seem to," you glanced out the window, still shuffling files and papers together.

"You've worked all day," he sighed, "c'mon."

"Uh... Where?"

"Think you've earned a drink," he eased, already striding out of the room. You quickly finished gathering your papers, stacking them all together, but was pleasantly shocked when Tommy returned to the empty room with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"Mr. Shelby, don't - "

But he was already sat on the ground, back against a wall, watching you with amusement. "Think a man's too good to sit on the floor?" He asked, uncorking the bottle.

"When their suit is so expensive that I have to take it to a specific cleaners, perhaps, then yes," you answered truthfully.

"I've money to spare, I can send this suit to be cleaned by another errand boy, you won't have to any longer," he poured two glasses of whiskey, "but tonight's company is too good to pass up."

You laughed, "Oh, no, what did you do?"

"Hmm?"

"You're kissing my arse a little, what've you done? What mess do I have to clean tomorrow?"

He smirked as you finally sat beside him, a bit stiffly, but accepted the drink he served. "Nothing, love, this storm's put a halt on everything," he gestured to the window, unaware that your heart stalled in your chest when you heard him call you 'love'. "What is it you were working on?" He asked, fingering the few files stacked between you. "Ah," he mused, reading the titles of the packets, "trying to get a jump on tomorrow, huh?"

"Not very much else to do," you shrugged. "I... I got a little frustrated. I think I'll need Polly to go over a few things with me."

"I'm sure you've got it," he spoke quietly. "I wouldn't have hired you if incapable."

You nodded, "Right, of course, sir."

Mr. Shelby offered you a look, taking a swig of whiskey. "You know, after hours, you don't have to be so professional."

"You didn't hire me to be unprofessional, though."

"No, I didn't, but this isn't a work meeting," he offered his glass. "We can still be friendly, can we not?"

You clinked his glass with yours, "Sure, of course we can..." How the hell could you be 'friendly' to the man you've pined after for the past two years? "So, I heard Grace skipped town," you started, instantly wincing when you realized what you said. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Shelby, I didn't mean to - "

But he chuckled, "You heard correct." He waited a long moment, then offered, "She's gone - for good."

You tested the waters, "Is... That a good thing?"

"It is."

"I thought you liked the barmaid?"

"I thought I did, too, but I've been wrong before."

"I doubt that."

"No, truly," he smirked, "I've made my fair share of mistakes."

"That you'd be willing to admit to?"

"Well, that's a different story," he mused, downing the last of his glass. "C'mon," he decided, sitting up, "the others are in the den, if you'd like to join?"

"Oh, no, I don't wish to intrude."

"Where were you going to sleep, then? If this storm doesn't die off in the next hour?" You gestured to where your coat and belongings were bunched up beside you, shrugging lightly. "No, absolutely not," he glared when he took in your makeshift bed, "you're coming in, you'll stay the night here."

"No, you lot are having family time - "

"And why do you assume you aren't family yet?" He asked sharply, making you reel back a little. "Three years, you've worked with my family, a portion of that before any of us came home. C'mon, love, you're more family than others wish to pretend to be."

"You mean that?" You worried softly.

He offered a look of mild offense, "I don't speak to hear the sound of my own voice. I would not say it if I did not mean it."

The whiskey in your system encouraged you to offer a sharp look, snipping, "It would not kill you to just say, 'Yes, I mean it.'"

Tommy smirked lightly, nodding, "Yes, I mean it. Come, you'll stay here tonight."

You couldn't fight off the smile even if you tried. With your coat and purse in one hand, Tommy took the other to help you off the floor. Like a gentleman, he took your belongings before leading you further into the Shelby home; leaving the empty gambling den to find the others all stuffed around a table with a card game loudly being played; fireplace stoked to life.

Polly greeted you happily, not knowing you were still here. Tommy set your things to the side as Arthur wrangled you into the seat beside him - insisting you had to be on his team! A quick sniff of his tea mug assured he was waist deep in the whiskey.

"Okay! New player at the table!" John announced, yanking all the cards back to hand over to Polly. They were all smoking, minus you and Finn. "You all know the rules - hey, hey, hey, no! Tommy's not on her team!" He pointed at you and his brother, who had sat beside you to sandwich you between Shelby's.

"Why not?" Tom asked, accepting the tea from Polly as Finn handed you your own.

"Thank you, little love," you whispered, pecking his cheek as he giggled.

"Becuase you two can communicate without words - it's fucking weird!" John insisted. "All right! Polly, you're with Tommy - the fucker likes to cheat."

"Being better than you isn't cheating, John Boy."

"Is when there's money on the line!" John laughed, Arthur leaning over to explain to you the game. He was actually a very good teacher, and even for a few rounds, you weren't a "viable player" just to let you watch and get the gist of things.

However, when you joined the game, it was far more intense than you had given credit for. But the Shelby's were competitive lads, Polly just happy to laugh and remind the boys of the rules; letting them dominate the table as you were content to just watch, laugh, and sip your tea. After a few rounds, Finn came over and hopped up on your lap, declaring you two a team now, and believe it or not, you won the next three hands!

"CHEATERS! AYE!?" John yelled, laughing right after as a boom of thunder rattled the home.

"No, call that beginners luck!" Arthur tried to defend, Tommy lighting a new cigarette.

"Or maybe John's just not accustomed to losing?" You grinned. "Especially from a lady?"

"I lost to a lady? Where? Where is she?" John looked around comically, earning a swift kick under the table that rattled the tea cups.

"All right, all right, next hand, we play for money, come on, come on, bets in the center," Polly instructed. "Finn, don't," she warned and you reached up to push the lad's hand down as he was ready to toss in a few pounds.

"Here, I'll cover us," you told the little lad, both grinning when you offered money to the center. Unknown to you, Tommy was keeping mental track of however much you were betting - intent to pay you back. Yet he didn't say anything, content to watch you and Finn have fun together.

Arthur and John were the most vocal of the group, arguing about scores and tallies and who won which round. You chuckled as Finn leaned into your chest, everyone waiting for the two to finish arguing; Polly looking over with a broad smirk before dropping her gaze. Tommy had seemingly naturally moved closer to you, one arm extended behind your chair to keep you close to his warmth.

Neither seemed to notice.

Not even when you would turn to crack a joke directly in Tommy's ear, his lips spreading in an easy smile that made Polly fight off her own grin. Grace was something special to Tommy, sure, this was true, but after the time together, she could tell that the two of you had become something more - without even verbalizing it.

Never realizing.

Hours passed, the storm still raged, two cartons of cigarettes was smoked between the lot of them, and there was no clear winner in sight. Finn had fully deflated into your embrace, asleep despite the loud thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. Your head had lulled onto Tommy's shoulder, sleep clawing at your eyelids as you listened to a drunken John and Arthur still argue about the card game. Polly eventually called it quits and bid everyone a goodnight, smiling softly when she noted the cozy seating between you and Tommy.

The longer you sat there, you more exhausted you became.

"C'mon, love," Tommy whispered softly, rousing you from your half-sleep, "let's get you to bed. C'mon, up you get," he smirked, aiding you from your chair as you kept a firm hold on his little brother. "We'll see you lot in the morning," he told his brothers.

"Night," John and Arthur waved, still deep into their argument, but smirking to one another when Tommy lead you up the stairs. When you were gone from sight, John leaned in and asked his eldest brother, "Think Tommy'll make a move tonight?"

Arthur glanced up the stairs, musing, "If he doesn't, he might be stupider then we thought."

John agreed.

Upstairs, Tommy opened the bedroom door and let you lay Finn softly on his bed, pausing to tug his shoes off and cover him with his blanket; moving his stuffed teddy bear closer and watching his sleeping hand naturally curl around it. You snuck out of the door, Tommy shutting the door, and tangled your hand with his.

Silently, he lead you to his bedroom.

It was small, ridiculously small, but it was enough for his single person. Tommy shut the door after you, moving around, muttering, "You can sleep in this," as he handed you one of his shirts, "and I'll be in the drawing room if you need me - "

"Tommy, I'm not kicking you out of your room," you sighed. "I can sleep on the sofa for the night, it's not - "

"I'm not letting you do that," he refused sharply.

"Then we seem to be at an impasse," you decided with perked brows. "Either we're both sleeping on the sofa or we both crash your bed. You choose."

He chuckled dryly, "And here I thought the whiskey would make you less stubborn."

"Wishful thinking."

He nodded, letting you have the room to change and get under the covers. It was decently cold in his room, more so without pants; the storm doing nothing to remedy that, and when Tommy returned, everything felt different.

A good different, but still different.

Neither of you made eye contact, him joining you in the absurdly small bed after blowing the candles out. You settled on your side, facing the wall, and after a few moments of adjusting, Tommy was settling down - but hesitating to deflate in comfort.

"Is it all right if I, uh... If I...?"

"Yeah, 's all right, Tommy," you whispered, reaching for the hand that hovered over your waist and pulling it so he was curled around you. It was all he needed to readjust, sigh to himself, and deflate against your back. You shivered slightly when his warm breath fanned over your neck and shoulder; his hand splaying over your belly and rubbing his thumb mindlessly. "Thank you for letting me stay the night," you whispered.

"Wasn't gonna send you home in this weather," he answered, voice vibrating the shell of your ear. "Besides," he whispered in a sigh, "this is where I wanted you, and where I wanted to be."

You chuckled, "Oh, yeah? So cold in here you need a warm body in bed with you?"

"No," he whispered, "but I've been in love with you for months now that I didn't want you far from me. Doesn't feel right, seeing you go home without me - everyday. I was overjoyed to come back and see you still here."

"What?" He didn't let you turn around, just kept you both there; locked in your spoon. "Tommy, what're you saying?"

He took a sobering breath, "That this is what I want, this is where I want us to be."

"That's the whiskey talking."

"No, love, it's you," his lips danced across your ear, making you shiver. "It's always been you, but I wasn't in my right mind to do anything about it."

"And now you are?"

"I might be, I couldn't go another minute with you thinking I don't want you - that I don't value you in my life. The fact that you were ready to sleep downstairs hurt me more than I'm willing to admit," he sighed, "and I knew, I needed to confess a few things so you know, you're welcome in this family. You won't ever sleep downstairs, love, you're meant to be here... With me... If you want to be."

You had to slap his hand to get him to loosen his grip and let you turn around to face him; but his hand remained on your, moving up to grip your ribs. In a whisper, you asked, "You're being honest? Genuine?"

"I can't lie to you, you can always tell. So, am I lying?"

"I don't think so," you whispered with skepticism, eyes narrowed. Neither of your voices rose above a whisper, "Why say any of this, Tommy?"

"Because the idea of going another day without at least trying to tell you how I feel was beginning to feel suffocating."

"What about Grace?"

"It's taken me a bit, but I know now that I was infatuated with her simply because I had already decided you were out of my league."

"Do you hear yourself?" You grinned, caressing his cheek. "You're everything I've wished for, Tommy, but know I can't have. You're the one in a league of your own, I'm the one unable to touch you."

His head shook, "You're all I've wanted and more. I wasn't sure you'd think it appropriate - my affection for you - given you work for me."

"The same reason I feared voicing my affection for you, too."

"Now that it's in the open," he whispered, "how do you want to proceed?"

"We can figure logistics out later," you smiled, tracing your fingertips over his face, "but for now, I just want to enjoy this. I never thought you'd look at me the same way, and now that you do, I don't want to look away."

"You won't have to," he whispered. "I'm in this for us, my sweet, if you are."

"Nowhere I'd rather be," you whispered, cuddled close, and simply breathing the same air. For a single moment, Tommy felt unparalleled peace; the shovels quiet, heart content, and body warm.

requesting rules and masterlist

Peaky Blinders masterlist

[chronicdisasterwrites]

i’d keep you company in the dark

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre + warnings: - ANGST but FLUFFY ending!! jjk movie spoilers!! happens after the ending of jjk-0, death, sad gojo, kisses.

word count: 1,672

authors note: this was a request by my lovely @daisy-the-quake <3 it's a song-fic, inspired by the song "peaches” by grandson x k.flay

enjoy <3

Your eyes shoot open as you lie still and unmoving. The blinking red light of the clock on your bedside table indicates midnight. Yet another nightmare, about the same thing. It starts with you standing face-to-face with Suguru. His face twisted with the sneer he had on when he came to the school to announce his plan; "The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons". You try to move but you can’t. You try to talk to him, try to convince him to listen to reason, but nothing comes out. He laughs, then it shifts and his laughing transitions into an irksome drone coming out of his ajar mouth. It turns into an incessant buzzing growing exponentially until it’s so loud you can’t see, think, or feel anything. And then the noise stops completely and you’re standing in the sky looking down at Satoru standing in an arena, alone, with a horde of shadows surrounding him. They all make their way toward him like ants capturing a crystal of sugar. You don't do anything. You don’t move or scream or fight. You feel like you don't even exist. Just when the shadows are about to swallow him whole does he look up at you, with hollow eyes and no will to survive.

The hammering of raindrops against your windows could’ve also been a factor, but the sweat on your face and the drumming of your heart indicate otherwise. Taking a few deep breaths you try to normalize your heartbeat. It was exhausting, having the same nightmare over and over again. Ever since Suguru died, all your dreams seemed to be about the same thing. Then you imagine, how Satoru must be feeling. You fall back into reality and realize Satoru’s side of the bed was abandoned. It had been a few days since Suguru died, and since then Satoru had been acting strangely. You never asked him straight up if he was okay, because you know he wasn’t. Of course, he wasn’t. So you tried to show him you were there if he wanted to talk, but he always laughed it off and changed the subject without showing a moment’s weakness. He was acting like nothing happened and life was just fine and dandy. The dream you had fills your mind with thoughts of Satoru losing his mind to the grief of losing his best friend and trudging down a path from which he could never return. You couldn't help him in your dream. Instead, you just stood there watching him get consumed by his demons. You bolt out of bed to look for him. He wasn’t in the apartment you both shared, so you made a guess and decided to trust your gut. You take your keys, wear a raincoat, take an umbrella, shove your phone in your pocket, and make your way to Jujutsu Tech.

Parking your motorcycle in front of the steps of the school you see him sitting on the steps, head downturned and raindrops ricocheting off his Infinity. Once you start climbing the steps, does he lift his head to give you a small smile, tired and sullen, not at all like his genuine smile. 

You sigh and sit next to him, shoulders touching and legs brushing. Your face was half-covered by the hood of the raincoat but some raindrops still fell on your nose and exposed hands. Hearing the familiar buzz of Satoru’s Infinity, you look up and watch the raindrops slide down around you, making you feel like you were encased in a snow globe. The pattering of raindrops sounded muted and you felt safe and protected from the terrors of the world. So, this is how Satoru feels? 

“What brings you here?”

You remove your hood and look into his dull eyes. Shrugging, you reply with a tender voice, “I couldn’t find you so I figured you’d be here.” 

Satoru huffs, looking away and linking his hands together over his knees, “I’m fine before you ask.”

Gojo Satoru was a complex human being. Sometimes people tend to forget he is a human being, thanks to his charisma, strength, and holier-than-thou attitude. But that’s all he was; a human being, blessed burdened with the strength of a God. The ever-present smile on his dazzling face makes you forget that he’s not a shiny person. But when his eyes dim and his smile falls in the dark of the night when a million eyes aren’t on him you realize just how bruised and battered he is. 

You release a tired breath. He thinks he’s all alone in this world. He thinks no one can ever help him with anything because no one is as strong as him. The world always revolved around him, his strength, his power, his name. No one could ever equal him, so he believes it’s only fair for him to carry his burdens and sorrows on his own.

“Y’know Satoru…” He glances at you and quirks a thin, silver eyebrow. You stare ahead, picking at the skin around your nails. 

“You’re not alone. As much as you want to believe you are, you aren’t. So, if you aren’t gonna let me in, that’s fine. Just- please let yourself feel without putting on a front.”

You hear him exhale and watch him hang his head down from your peripheral vision. 

“What’s the point?” He mutters under his breath. The only reason you could hear him at all was because his Infinity dulled the noise in the outside world. 

This time you stare at his downturned head and you can’t stop yourself from speaking, “What’s the point? The point is that you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to hurt alone. I want you to share your pain with me! Yeah sure, you can get through this alone. You can shove it under the rug, but just this once, don’t be the strongest. Just let me hurt with you, let’s get through this together. Please, Satoru.”

He lifts his head and stares you straight in your eyes. You know how much he’s hurting. His world turned upside down and everything changed. He had to watch his friend plummet into the darkness and he had to be the one to deliver the final blow. His heart is shattered and you’re scared there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. The only thing you can do is be by his side and try to pick up his broken pieces.   

He exhales a shaky breath as his eyes glisten like a dewdrop on a blade of grass, “Can we get through this?” 

You reach out your hand and move a couple of strands of his hair from his vision. You let your hand lie against his warm cheek and he lets his eyes shut, “I know everything went to shit. But it’s not permanent, Satoru. I don’t know if things will get better, but we can only hope, right?”

He takes your hand in his own and runs his thumb over your knuckles.

“Yeah. We can only hope.”

He sighs and stares at your hand, “I miss him.”

“I know…”

You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. It’s dark, except for a few streetlights. You think he’d enjoy a piece of cake or something sweet right about now. You open your mouth to ask him when he beats you to it, “Things won’t be the same.”

Your mouth hangs open and you wait as he continues speaking, “It might get better, it might get worse. Honestly? It doesn’t matter. We can’t really afford to be optimistic with a life like ours.” He lets out a humorless laugh. Looking at you, he gives you a gentle smile and leans forward to kiss your forehead. He lingers there for a quiet moment as the rain serenades you both.

“We’ll get through this.” 

You love him so much. Looking at his beautiful, weary face, you smile and leave a chaste kiss on his lips. Stealing another kiss, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, “I love you, y’know that?” 

Smiling, you stand and give him your hand, “Yeah, I love you too.”

He holds your hand and stops you on your way down the stairs, “Hey…I'm sorry for being selfish. I know you’re hurting too. I don’t want you to think I don't notice that.”

Turning back to look at him, you caress his knuckles with your thumb, “It's okay, Satoru-”

“No, it's not.” He stands on the upper step, looking down at you with tender eyes, "D'you have another nightmare? Is that why you woke up?" He traces the dark circles under your eyes and keeps his thumb on the apple of your cheek.

You sigh and close your eyes momentarily, "Yeah..."

"You wanna talk about it?"

Your free fingers wrap around his slender wrist as you look up at his glittering, blue eyes. "Maybe later." He nods.

You both walk down the steps, your hand warm in his. By now the rain had slowed down to a soft patter. He notices the umbrella tied on the backseat of your motorcycle and quirks an eyebrow, “Why’d you bring this?”

You offer a sheepish smile and take out your keys from your pocket, “I- uh, figured you might need it. I thought you’d deactivate your Infinity and sit in the rain or something… So y’know I didn’t want you to waste all your energy covering us both from the rain but I guess that’s exactly what you did so it was pretty usele-”

Your rambling was immediately shut down by the press of his lips against yours. You feel him smile into the kiss and your heart feels so warm. I love him so much. Hugging you, he rests his chin on your head, “Thank you.” 

You think it’s ironic how you’re shivering from the cold yet feeling so incredibly warm at the same time. He chuckles and unties the umbrella taking a seat on the backseat of your bike, “Let’s go home, yeah?”  

a/n: well, after chapter 236 this sure is a knife to the heart.

taglist: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite, @mariapierce789, @laylasbunbunny, @r0ckst4rjk

[creamyavocadosoup]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞

a/n: lowercase intended! been in an anime binge lately and am currently watching horimiya. its great honestly, it makes me feel so mushy bc me when !! but also i can kinda relate. sorry this wasnt proofread! if there are any mistakes lmk ;-;

characters: rtte!hiccup x fem!reader

tags: kinda angsty, unrequited (?) pining, intimate touches and moment (nothing nsfw)

word count: 1.5k

if you missed it, here's part one: can i be her?

the road to recovery was slow, and the mending of hiccup and i's relationship even slower. although i had forgiven him, there was an undeniable shift in how i acted towards him, whether it was intentional or not.

i had felt guilty about it, of course, but i couldn't force myself to go back to the way things were and pretend nothing had happened. even more so when i could tell that hiccup and the other riders picked up on it too.

after that incident however, something else had also changed. as subtle as it was (or tried to be), hiccup had begun doing things out of his own volition. small things like the soil in my garden being damp when i wake up, my medicine cabinets tidied and arranged how i liked it after a nap, or even my hut being spick and span, a still-hot plate of food awaiting me on my bedside table when i wake up.

it was strange to be on the receiving end of such actions. i had gotten used to helping the riders more than i had received it in return. so having hiccup do so much for me just because, induced emotions in me that i'm still quite unsure in how to handle.

today was spent patching up the riders after a grueling training session and a few accidents (mostly snotlout) and we make conversation as they tell me the new things they've discovered when they went adventuring a few days ago.

my huge cut had - thankfully - been steadily healing, the riders taking turns in making sure i wasn't doing tasks i wasn't supposed to. a few weeks since the incident and i could finally start walking around my hut with much, much caution.

taking this opportune moment of reprieve, i'm currently sat at my front porch, admiring the view of the sea and horizon off in the distance. i sipped quietly on my drink while wrapped in a blanket, the birds chirping and soft swaying of the trees my only company.

...that is until strong gusts of wind caused by a familiar midnight black dragon landed on my front yard, along with his ever-familiar rider in tow.

"[name]! i come bearing new entries to my journal, along with snacks of course."

right. ever since my injury, hiccup had made it some sort of tradition to come and talk to me about things he discovered while out on adventures or simply reading up and researching on subjects he thinks would interest me.

he reasoned it as him hoping i wouldn't feel too lonely even though the other riders visiting routinely (which i soon figured out was coordinated by hiccup thanks to a slip of the tongue from tuffnut) had given me plenty of company since then.

hiccup took his seat beside me on the porch swing, making himself comfortable. offering the other half of my blanket and he takes it with a smile, scooting closer to me.

initially, i seemingly wasn't quite receptive of this tradition he had started; lack of responses, barely any indication that i was interested in whatever he was talking about. but the dragon rider hadn't exactly let it affect him whatsoever. he continued coming regularly, and talking enough for the both of us.

"hiccup." i spoke, softly and quite mellow, but it had stopped his rant completely as he turned to look at me.

i raised my head to look back at him, my eyes slowly dragging over his features. sweat beaded faintly across his brows as he also searched my face of any indication of emotion. he gulped, the action quite apparent, "yes?"

"are you doing all this because you feel guilty?" i questioned, my voice devoid of any accusatory tone, yet it made him flinch slightly in his seat. "if you are, then you shouldn't be, because i already forgive you."

he pursed his lips and brows furrowed as he continued to keep his eyes on me, clearly displeased despite my words. i felt a warmth slowly settle on my hand, looking down to find his hand grabbing onto mine.

my heart beat quickened, a soft yet steady heat creeping up onto my cheeks. for a moment, it had felt like we were suspended in time, the universe letting us have this moment that we've needed.

"even if you have forgiven me," he paused, his body turning to me and gripping my hand tighter, "i can't." he whispered, a soft tremble in his voice as i watched his eyes gloss over.

"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." he almost weeps, his voice crackly and tears turning his eyes glossy. "i shouldn't have talked to you like that. been so - so caught up in my emotion that i just had zero regard for how you were feeling to how i was saying it." his voice shakes slightly, and my heart crumpled at the emotion.

gently setting aside my drink, i reached to hold his hands with both of mine, softly rubbing my thumb along the natural contours of the back of it. my throat felt tight, that same burning feeling in my eyes coming back, but i steeled myself and my voice to be able to say what i needed to.

"hiccup.. i understand, i really do." my voice had felt so fragile, like glass, about to break if more pressure is applied to it. "in the time i've spent by myself these past few weeks, i've come to a certain understanding and acceptance to the situation. and it's okay," i squeezed his hands, "i'm okay."

he subtly shakes his head no, one of his hands breaking free from mine and drifting to my wounded abdomen, past the hem and underneath my shirt. hiccup was quiet but his touch spoke more than his words tried to convey. my breath hitched at the action as he continued with his ministrations, yet his expression more spaced-out. i'm not sure what it was exactly, but i could tell he was heavily contemplating something in his head.

despite the gauze barrier, i could feel the heat of him emanating through it. it allowed that familiar warmth to bloom in my chest once again, the same warmth that only he seems to be the cause of. it had felt entirely too intimate to consider it as something friends do which only raised so many more questions and confusion in my head.

this wasn't normal for friends, right? is this something he normally does with the others?

i gulped down the lump in my throat, the thought of him doing the same thing to a certain blonde-haired viking setting an uncomfortable feeling in my gut.

before i could voice out any of my thoughts however, my eyes widened and cheeks warmed considerably once i felt his touch travel to my cheek. it was soft, almost feather-like, and comforting. his eyes glowed beautifully, the orange sunset reflecting onto his green eyes, effectively enchanting me with how beautiful it looked.

he kept his eyes on me, seemingly waiting on a sign on how i felt about the current predicament. seeing no protests from me, he continued on, now essentially cupping my face with both of his hands, his piercing eyes never leaving my face, flitting between my eyes and lips.

"hiccup..."

"hiccup!" a familiar voice cut through the silence and the trees, dispelling the intimate moment in an instant. i hurriedly moved away from his clutches, picking up my forgotten drink, as hiccup nervously fixes his hair and clothes.

astrid appears on the path in front of my hut, lax features and usual demeanor indicating that she didn't see whatever just happened between hiccup and i. "there you are. figured you would be here." she spoke, walking closer towards my porch.

hiccup laughed, notably a little more breathless than when he normally is, yet astrid doesn't bat an eye or pick up on it. admittedly, i spaced out as she rambled on, the scene before still playing over and over in my head.

hiccup's soft touches was still practically branded onto my skin, with how i could still feel the heat of his touch despite him being on the other side of the seat we were on. his actions had only made me more confused, swirling thoughts trying to reason why he did what he did yet none of them made sense.

what was that? was he...

i shook away the thoughts as i come back to consciousness back in time. "[name], i hope you don't mind that i'll be taking this guy with me for a little bit. i need his help on a few things regarding training." she spoke.

i nodded, plastering a small smile on my face but i turn to look at hiccup, silently torn on wanting him to go or letting him leave. his gaze was on me, searching my face but perhaps my features weren't translating my desire well, because he turns to astrid and smiles, "we can go, we were just finishing up anyways."

my heart cracks just a tiny bit, that same feeling that i felt a few weeks ago leaking through the cracks of my resolve little by little. but i force the smile back on my face, standing up to bring my drink back inside, the atmosphere now leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

they gather their things and leave side-by-side, and i also turn and huddle back into my hut, missing the longing look hiccup held to my disappearing figure.

DO NOT REPOST MY CONTENT ANYWHERE! i would love to hear any and all thoughts. mwah! have a great day!

quick access to my library.

[chloe-skywalker]

Door Open (Part 2) - Billy Hargrove

Part 2

Billy x Fem!reader Hopper

Warnings: mentions of abuse

Word count: 1,647

Summary: Neil went to far this time and Y/n wants Billy out.

Authors Note: Here’s Part 2! So this is only 2 parts but maybe I’ll make more if you all like it and would like more.

Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Part 1

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It had been months since the dinner and things were good. They didn’t have to hide anymore. Billy had been over practically every day since. And to surprise everyone, Hopper didn’t mind. He actually grew to like the boy and his daughter turned out to be right. He was very different behind closed doors. But Hopper had sensed something off with him and he just wished he could figure it out. Although he might find out soon.

It was around midnight when Y/n heard the sound of tapping against her window. She turned her head and out the dark window was her boyfriend. Y/n got up and opened her window, helping him into her room.

When Y/n looked up at Billy once he was fully standing to the best of his ability at the moment. She was shocked, he had never looked this bad before. And that was saying something. “Oh God- Billy.”

“Yeah, I know.” Billy let out a huffed laugh even though it really hurt. He was pretty sure he had some cracked ribs. “It’s bad this time.”

Y/n looked him over with wide extremely concerned eyes. There were bruises everywhere old and new but the new were really nasty looking, and they weren’t even done developing yet. “No kidding.”

Y/n was glad that her door was shut right now so no questions would be raised. Y/n grabbed all her medical stuff she stored in her room, with the upside down crap and her boyfriend it came in handy. As she cleaned the cuts Billy occasionally hissed. “Sorry.”

Billy shook his head. “It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt as bad right now.”

Y/n let out a sigh knowing what needed to be done. She’d have to convince him though. “I can’t let you live there anymore, Billy.”

With a sigh of his own Billy answered sadly. “There’s nothing you can do about it, Y/n/n.”

“We could tell my dad.” y/n told him, her dad was the sheriff after all. She knew he could do something. “He could help.”

“Hopper already barely tolerates me. Why would he help me?” Billy knew him and Hopper seemed to be on good terms but it always felt like the other shoe would drop at any time. Billy never felt safe around adults, for good reasons.

Y/n reached for his hands and monevered on herself to also sit on her bed, looking him in the eyes. “He’d do it for me. Because as you said he is tolerating you- well he’s doing that for me. Plus my father doesn’t think kindly about people who abuse their children or any person abusing one. Look at El and her situation.”

Billy sat there thinking about her words for a moment before asking. “You think he’d really help me?”

Y/n nodded. “I do. Even if we weren’t together, hell even if we weren’t even friends. He’d still help you.”

Billy knew it was time, he had to agree with Y/n. He couldn’t live under Neil anymore. “Okay.”

“Really? I know how you feel about telling people anything personal, let alone this.” Y/n asked, wanting to make sure he was sure.

“Yeah. I think its time. I need out and I can’t do it on my own. Plus I don’t want anything like this to also happen to Max. She may be a brat but no one deserves what he’s capable of.” Billy nodded looking Y/n in the eyes. It needed to be done.

^     ^     ^

“Hey, dad?” Y/n spoke, poking her head out her door. Not opening in enough for anymore to see into her room. She didn’t want El and Mike seeing Billy’s state or asking questions. This needed to be between the 3 of them only.

“Hmmm?” Hopper hummed, shifting his eyes off El and Mike and to his oldest daughter.

“Can you come to my room for a sec?” She nodded back towards her door with raised brows, giving her dad a look to tell him it was private and serious.

“Sure.” Hopper nodded, getting up and heading to Y/n’s room.

“Thanks.” Y/n thanked him before pulling him into her room.

Upon entering her room Hopper saw Billy and he could feel his blood boiling. But upon a longer second look his more pressing question became ‘what happened to his oldest’s boyfriend?’ Billy wasn’t known to lose a fight. More than half the time he walked away with barely any bruises or scratches. But right now, Billy was sporting a black eye forming, a cut on his head, split lip, bruises old and new, and his shirt was completely unbuttoned showing off a really nasty almost black bruise across his ribs. Meaning to Hopper that his ribs were either extremely bruised, cracked but most likely a few were broken.

“What’s?” He glanced down at his daughter. “What’s going on?”

Y/n walked around him to pull out her desk chair gesturing for her dad to sit. “Can you sit down? Billy, has something he wants to tell you.”

Hopper did as he asked as Y/n went and sat down next to Billy, grabbing his hand in hers for what Hopper preserved was reassurance. “What’s wrong, kid?”

With that Billy went on to explain to Hopper all about Niels abuse. Every detail and for how long it had been going on for. He told the older man everything, with Y/n’s support. 

Hopper noticed when some things got hard for Billy to talk about he either looked to Y/n or she would squeeze his hand. He came to the conclusion that his daughter had become Billy’s safety blanket.

And he was proud of her for being there for the boy who had been through things that no child ever should go through.

“And I didn’t want to tell anyone or let anyone know because back in California no one seemed to notice or care so. . . My plan was just wait it out- till ya know, I turned 18.” Billy told the sheriff nervously bouncing his leg.

“But…” Y/n encouraged him to continue. He needed to get it out, she knew that.

“But, now he’s worse and the worse he gets I worry about him with Max now. He wouldn’t do anything before because of Susan, but he’s getting sloppy.” Billy appreciated more than he could ever put into words Y/n’s support. Everything she’s ever done for him, including loving him.

Y/n turned her attention to her dad with hopeful and nervous eyes. “Can you do anything to help?”

Hopper nodded, hell even if he couldn’t legally he’d find a way to get rid of that piece of shit. Niel Hargrove. “Yeah, I can help.”

Y/n nudged Billy shoulder to shoulder with a smile. “I told you.”

“Yeah, you did.” Billy nodded with a small smile on his lips as well.

“But for now you can’t let him or Susan know that anything is out of the ordinary.” Hopper spoke up, leaning back in the chair.

Billy looked back at Hopper confused. “Out of the ordinary?”

“What do you mean dad?” Y/n asked as well, confused like Billy.

“We have an extra room. I want you to slowly start moving your stuff into it. And I want Max to slowly start moving her stuff here too, into El’s room. I’m sure they’ll love becoming roommates.” he scoffed thinking of how that was going to go. And how he and Billy will be outnumbered.

“The sleepover that never ends.” Y/n laughed, shaking her head happily at the thought.

“Exactly.” Hopper smiled, letting out a huff of air.

“I’m still confused.” Billy stated with a furrowed brow looking between the father and daughter confused.

Y/n squeezed his hand and gently pulled him closer, if that was even possible. Smiling at him, she was very happy at this new found situation. “You and Max are moving in. Here. With us.”

“I-” Billy was speechless looking at Hopper in shock. But Hopper could see the hint of relief in the young man's eyes.

“Son.” Hopper felt bad for the boy. This had obviously been going on for a long time and it had affected Billy more than he showed or let on. No wonder he starters fights, Hopper thought, he needs a cover for the bruises and a way to vent out his anger about his father. “Once things are all ready to go and in motion, things are gonna move fast. And I'm not going to have you or Max in that house or anywhere near it when it happens. Max I consider already like a daughter, she’s over enough to be one. And you Billy. I like you more than I would care to admit. You're like a son to me, I think you need to know that.”

Billy could only sit and look at his girlfriend's dad in complete shock. He could never find the words to tell Hopper how much this and what he said meant to him. Billy was very appreciative for what he was willing to do to help him. “Thank you, sir.”

Hopper stood up and placed his hand on Billy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Son, you can call me Hopper.”

Billy nodded. “Thanks Hopper.”

“No problem. I’ll get you a shirt to sleep in. You are not going back to that house tonight.” Hopper stated exiting the room to do as he said. This was a night where the closed door rule for the couple wouldn’t apply. Hopper wasn’t going to split them up tonight.

“He called me son. More than once.” Billy’s voice cracked and his eyes held happy tears as he looked to Y/n with a watery smile.

“Yeah, he did.” Y/n smiled at him, things were going to be okay now.

taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @starkleila

[junkdrawerfics]

Swan Sisters (Part 2)

Part 1

Jasper Whitlock x Reader + Bella Swan and Sister! Reader

Summary: An addition to the sister!reader series, where you are Bella's sister and a vampire, not that she knows. Yet. When the car accident happens, you find yourself lost in a mix of concern, lies, and familial arguments. Can you keep Bella quiet when Edward can't?

Word Count: 3645

Warnings: No? Hospitals? Sisters kind of arguing? My midnight editing attempts. Movie-based not book-based (though it hurts my soul)

Note: This one is a lot more Bella / sister!reader focused. Also, I'm realizing this will take many parts because there's so many bits I want to write from this point of view. There will likely be two more parts (at least).

@twilightlover2007 - here's part 2 <3

---

The second you hear about the car accident, everything stops.

Jasper watches you wearily from your bedroom window. He can feel the emotions pouring off of you. Concern. Dread. Fear. Each carrying the force of a violent tidal wave. But you don’t move an inch. You’re frozen in time, like a picturesque statue of pure marble. Despair captured in beauty.

“Is she okay?” You squeak as the shock slowly wears off.

“Yes…” Jasper hesitates, quietly adding, “Edward saved her.”

Edward? He saved her?

“Was he close to her when it happened?”

“...No.”

Alarm bells start ringing, flashing red lights and all. You search Jasper’s eyes, finding your panic reflected in their gold depths. No.

“So he-?”

“Yes.”

“And he-?”

A sharp nod.

Oh dear God.

“We need to go,” you declare, swiping your purse from your bed.

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can!” You flip back to him, but freeze at the stricken look on his face. 

Shame simmers under his pained expression, his eyes clouded with so much self-doubt, you wish you could just take it all away. You didn’t mean to spark that, you didn’t think about what hospitals could mean. Wounded humans. Blood. It’s too dangerous for him to go, you should have known that.

 Overwhelmed with tenderness for the blond, and a touch of guilt, you drop into the windowsill next to him.

“Sorry,” you murmur, voice soft.

You just feel so…so messy. Drawn so taut you could break. Concern filling every cell in your dead body. It wasn’t even like you said anything to hurt him, he knows that, you know that, but it still feels like you made him feel like that.

Jasper, so fully in sync with your emotions, your thoughts, gently brushes his fingers against yours before intertwining them. The gesture is so simple, so reassuring and firm, you can’t stop the shuddering breath from escaping you as you collapse into his side. His arm wraps around you tightly, as if he can hold together all your cracking pieces.

“Sorry,” you bleat again, “I just- I’m just worried, you know? We’ve finally started spending time together, and if she figures out what we are, or worse, something happens, we’ll have to leave. I’m…I’m not ready for that yet. I didn’t mean to speak carelessly.”

“It’s okay, darlin’, I understand.” Jasper’s lips brush against your forehead, his voice low and smooth, lulling your storm back to calm waters. You curl even further into his touch, humming softly. “Why don’t you go check on her, and I’ll find Alice? She might’ve seen somethin’ about all this.” 

“Thanks, Jas.” Your voice is muffled by his sweater, but the blond still hears it, and you can feel a flush of love from him, his power.

“You’re welcome, darlin’. Always.”

It’s difficult to extract yourself from the embrace. Being around Jasper when he’s in a good mood is too addictive, since his emotions usually pour over onto you, even when he doesn’t mean to. His love is like warmth, the kind that starts in your chest and spreads to every inch of your body. It’s the closest you get to feeling alive again.

But you do manage to tear yourself away eventually. Jasper, sensing your reluctance, gives you one of those slanted, teasing grins, “Can’t get enough of me, can you, darlin’?”

“Oh shush.” You scrunch your nose at him, feeling much light as you swing your legs over the windowsill. “Don’t make me regret this whole ‘forever’ thing.”

His eyes practically sparkle with mirth. “I wouldn’t think of it, ma’am.”

You roll your eyes, “Go find Alice, you dummy. I need to go give Edward a serious scolding.”

“Don’t be too hard on him.”

“I know, I know.” You wave a hand dismissively. “I can’t be too mad at him. I just want to screw with him a bit, you know?”

“My mate,” Jasper hums, shaking his head amusedly.

“Count yourself lucky.” 

You duck forward, pressing a brief kiss to his lips before pushing off from the window. It’s a rainy day, the clouds thick and dark like usual, the smell of wet bark and dirt swirling through the air. The familiarity of it all eases the last of your stubborn nerves. When you spin back around, Jasper is right behind you, catching you around the waist and pulling you in for another kiss. 

“I count myself very lucky,” the vampire purrs, your noses brushing, “every day, darlin’.”

“Good, that makes the both of us.” Though you are definitely more lucky. You’ll never understand how you ended up with someone as amazing as Jasper. “Now, go talk to Alice.”

“Be careful at the hospital.”

“Will do, Major.”

You bite back a grin when Jasper shoots you a narrowed look. Before he can get another word out though, you give him a little wink and take off through the woods. 

His low laughter echoes behind you, fading into the hum of the forest.

---

You definitely shouldn’t be here, you think to yourself as you step into the hospital. The smell of blood hits you like a bruising punch to the gut, so hard that you stumble, clutching at the nearest wall for support. You can hear the pulsing heartbeat of each person in the room, the sound of blood rushing through their veins. A siren song. Taunting. Tempting. Your lips part, the smell so thick you can practically taste the warmth on your tongue.

Would their blood taste different because they're sick? 

The thought makes you pale. Disgusting. You’re disgusting. You clench your jaw, bones aching as you force yourself to be still, force your lungs to still.

“Are you okay, (Y/n)?”

Blink. Smile. Be human.

You turn to the nurse at the desk, a girl you recognize as one of your seniors from high school. Merissa? You think that’s her name. She’s looking at you with concern-steepled eyebrows, dark eyes wide.

“Hi! Yah, I’m fine,” you bite out through gritted teeth. “I’m here to see Bella? She got into a car accident.”

“Oh sure! She’s in our general treatment room, your dad just got here too.” She points to one of the sets of doors, “Right through there, I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding her.”

“Thanks!”

And thanks to her interruption, you have a little bit more control over your roving instincts, at least enough to make going into the back less intimidating. When you find your family (due to Charlie’s growling at the poor boy you can only assume was the driver in the accident), Carlisle is already taking a look at Bella.

Thank the heavens for Carlisle. The man is an absolute saint and you’ll never understand how he can spend the whole day here.

“How is she?” You appear at Charlie’s side, making both him and Bella jump.

“Where on Earth did you come from?” Charlie barks, a hand over his heart.

“Jasper told me what happened so I rushed over,” you explain quickly, turning to your sister, “He said it was a crazy accident. The truck just barely missed you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bella groans. She’s probably said that a million times by now, but it’s good to hear it from her. It’s even better to see her with your own eyes. No bruises. No blood. She is fine. Lucky for you. “It could have been a lot worse if Edward wasn’t there.”

“Edward? Your boy?” Charlie glances at Carlisle.

The older vampire looks your way, lips pulling into a thin line. A slight nod of your head, almost imperceptible, tells him that you know what happened. Bella just barely catches it.

“It’s kind of amazing he got to me so fast,” she adds on, eyes narrowed, flicking between the two of you. “He was nowhere near me.”

She must already be suspicious. Which means you have to convince her she’s wrong. Which means you need to lie. Again.

“Did you hit your head, Bells?” You plop onto the bed next to her, feigning concern to the best of your abilities. You have to resist the urge to flinch when she glares at you.

“She did,” Carlisle inputs, and Bella shifts her glare to the doctor, though he remains unphased, “No concussion, thankfully, but this kind of incident can have repercussions on the mind, so you’ll want to keep an eye on her. Now, I’m sorry to run, but I have another patient to attend to.” He gives Charlie one of his award winning smiles and steps over to the other boy. 

“I’m not a kid,” Bella all but snaps, her jaw clenching so hard you can practically hear her teeth grinding, “I’d appreciate it if everyone stopped treating me like one.”

“Hey, you’re still my kid,” Charlie retorts, “If Doctor Cullen says we need to be careful, then we will. No arguments.”

Bella just huffs, obviously not happy with the outcome of the discussion. You squeeze her shoulder, but she just shuffles off the bed, barely casting you a glance. Frowning softly, you follow them back towards the front of the hospital.

“Bells,” you start.

She doesn’t let you get far, “I know what I saw. You may not believe me, but I do.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you-”

“Then why’d you brush me aside like that?” She flips back around to you, stopping dead in the middle of the hall. You do flinch this time. The look on her face, a mix between disappointment and frustration, buried beneath a fine layer of suspicion, sends another stab of guilt through you. 

Charlie glances between the two of you, shuffling awkwardly off to the side. He looks seconds away from fleeing, and you cast him pleading glance, silently begging him to stay. Facing a cougar alone? Easy. Facing Bella’s fury on your own? Down right terrifying.

“I’m gonna go sign some paperwork,” he coughs, and you gape at him as he dashes down the hall. 

Coward!

“I thought you were supposed to have my back?” 

Don’t say that.

“I do, Bells, but you sounded crazy back there.” Each word feels like a burning coal in your mouth.

“Crazy?”

“I mean, yah.” You shrug meekly. “You make it sound like he teleported or something to get to you. It’s a bit far-fetched, you know?”

Bella purses her lips. For just a short moment, doubt clouds her expression. It gives you an inkling of hope, that maybe this can all end well. Maybe she’ll let it go and everything will just go back to normal and you can kick Edward’s butt for being so careless then thank him for saving her. Maybe-

But then her eyes fall on something, someone, behind you, and her brows set into that stubborn line all over again and your hope deflates.

“I’ll be right back. He can clear this all up.” You can't get a word in before she takes off down the hall behind you.

You spin, resisting the urge to groan when your eyes fall on Edward. He’s standing with Carlisle and Rosalie, the vampires murmuring tensely amongst themselves.

If only you’d had a few more minutes.

‘Angry human, incoming.’ You project your thoughts loud and clear.

Edward looks your ways, eyes blowing wide as he catches sight of Bella walking towards them. For a split millisecond, you can read the panic in his expression, just before the facade of composure comes crashing down. Carlisle and Rosalie seemingly disappear as Bella reaches him.

‘Good luck, Ed. You’ll need it.’

If people could sweatdrop, you’re sure you’d be seeing the emote on the vampire right now. Bella isn’t pissed, not yet at least, but one misstep and she could certainly be there. You can only imagine how Edward feels handling this. Probably like a fish out of water, since he can’t hear her thoughts. Serves him right for his impeccable timing.

You prop yourself against the wall, focusing in on their hushed conversation. You hate using your powers for this, to listen in on something that should be private, with your sister no less, but right here, right now, you just can’t afford to give her that. This involves all of you.

“How did you get over to me so fast?” Bella asks, voice much softer than when she was talking to you. 

“I was standing right next to you, Bella,” Edward corrects with an easygoing smile.

That won’t work.

“You were standing next to your car, across the lot,” Bella argues.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes. You were.”

You smile bemusedly. They’re already like an old, married couple.

Edward glares at you over Bella’s shoulder. You glance away, pretending to watch the nurses walking around.

“You hit your head, I think you’re confused.”

“I know what I saw.”

There’s no more uncertainty in her voice.

A heavy sensation settles in your chest.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“No.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment.”

---

“Is there anything else you need?” You flutter around the room, grabbing extra blankets, pillows, making sure everything is in reach. Since Charlie had to go back to the department, it up to you to get her settled in before going to find the Cullens.

“I’m fine, (Y/n),” Bella sighs, standing in the doorway with crossed arms. “I don’t understand why I couldn’t just go back to school but Edward could.”

“Perks of having your dad as the doctor,” you chirp with a wry smile.

Bella just rolls her eyes. Stubborn girl. Only she would have a near death experience and then insist on going back to school. Most kids would jump at the chance to have the day off! You know you would.

“Anyways, I got you some water, and aspirin for if your head starts hurting - tell me if it does okay? And I can whip you up some food if you want, or order in, whatever you-”

“(Y/n).”

You cringe, stopping in the middle of fluffing one of the many pillows you brought in. Slowly, the slowest you’ve moved in a long time, you turn to glance at her over your shoulder. And the sight makes your stomach churn, a fresh wave of guilt pouring over you.

Bella’s always been brave. No matter how hard you’ve tried to get her to open up, she’s always hidden her struggles from you. So, seeing her standing there, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, arms curled around herself as if she’s trying to hide from the world, it tears the ground out from under you.

“Do you really not believe me?” Her voice is meek, so different from her usual self.

“Oh, Bells,” you sigh, reaching for her.

But Bella steps away, avoids your touch completely, and that hurts. You clench your fingers, letting your hand fall to your side. You deserve that, you guess. You’ve done nothing but avoid her this whole time. Even now, you’re only here to try and convince her she saw it wrong.

You haven’t exactly been a good sister, have you?

“You don’t.”

“I-” Your jaw clenches. What can you say? You don’t want to lie, not again, not when you know it’ll just drive this wedge further. You can’t lose her, not yet. You’re not ready.

“Well?” Bella scowls, eyes burning holes through you.

You purse your lips, quietly breathing out, “It’s not so simple, Bella.”

“What do you mean?” She takes a step towards you, and you swear you see fire burning along the edges of her figure. You take a step back, wary. “You either believe me or you don’t. What’s so difficult about that?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know.” 

You know you’re not helping. You know the answer should be simple. But so is your desire to love your sister, to keep her in your life, to not let go of one of the good things left of your human life.

“Obviously,” Bella scoffs, “Like why you’re always disappearing now? I feel like I see less of you than when I lived in Phoenix.”

“I can’t-” You cut yourself off, biting your tongue.

“Can’t what?

“I can’t talk about it,” you finish weakly.

“Why?”

“It’s not mine to talk about!”

“Why? You seem to be a part of it, whatever it is.”

“Because, Bells, it just isn’t! And you need to stop poking around it.”

“So you are hiding something.”

“Y- No!” You groan, collapsing onto the bed. “Just drop it Bella, please, for me.”

Bella just shakes her head, “I can’t.”

An abrupt silence fills the room, settling heavily over the two of you. You’re both heaving, tense with more to say but no fight left to do it. You can’t budge, and neither will she. A heavy sigh passes your lips as you drag a hand over your face.

What a mess.

The bed shifts as Bella sits next to you. You glance at her, eyes narrowed, tired, and she looks just as worn out. It’s been a long time since you’ve fought like this.

“...I’m sorry, Bells.” Your voice is quiet, pained. No response.

Seconds tick by like hours until she breaks the silence again to ask, “Can you just tell me one thing?” 

You should say it depends. The less you reveal the better, considering you definitely just made this all worse. You’ve always had a sucky poker face. But you can’t bring yourself to say it, to keep this exhausting facade up, so you just offer a slow nod.

Bella hesitates, brows synching as she scans your face, “Do I…Do I need to be worried about you in all of this?”

Irony.

At its finest.

With a melancholic smile, you shake your head, “No Bells, I’m okay. I’m happy, actually. I’m just worried about you.”

“Okay.”

And just like that, the tension drips away, leaving the two of you in a comfortable moment of acceptance. You lean against her shoulder, relief flooding you when she doesn’t lean away. Her head even falls against your shoulder, just like when you were younger. 

This is what you’ve missed.

And it’s only then, with your nose touching her hair, that you realize her scent doesn’t smell nearly as appealing to you. You hadn’t even noticed it this whole time. A tiny grin captures your lips as you shut your eyes. Finally.

“Can I ask you something?” You hum eventually.

“Depends.”

This time, you roll your eyes, “What do you think of Edward?”

Bella’s face immediately flushes a deep crimson, and that’s enough of an answer for you. Your grin turns teasing as you jostle her lightly.

“You like him, don’t you?”

She scoffs, “As if.”

But her eyes look everywhere but at you.

“You’re horrible at lying, Bells,” you giggle.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“Well, it’s just- that’s just totally insane. Edward? No, he’s like so…weird and bipolar.”

“And cute,” you chime, earning a glare from the younger Swan.

“Shut up.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“I don’t like Edward.”

“Okaaay~”

You hop to your feet and Bella barely catches herself on the bed, casting you a not too fierce glare.

“Seriously, (Y/n).”

“No, I totally believe you, Bella,” you sing as you glide to the door.

“I don’t like him.”

“Me neither.”

“(Y/n).”

You pause at the doorway, looking back at her with a wolfish grin.

“Bella.”

She’s somehow even more red, practically fuming.

“He doesn’t even like me! You saw how he acted today.” Her face falls at the memory, and you can’t help but shake your head.

To think, even after an argument, you can still have moments like this.

This is worth fighting for.

“Just give it time, Bella.” She looks up at you, and you can see in her eyes, the desperate wish for answers, answers you can’t share. Yet. “He was a jerk today, and trust me, he’ll get a whoopin’ for it, but I stand by what I said. Edward is a good guy. He just…well, he’s got a villain complex, let’s put it that way.”

The brunette snorts, a slight smile disrupting her usual cloudy expression. Good, you think proudly. Your pretty sister shouldn’t look so down, especially over a dumb vampire who doesn’t know how to handle girls, at all.

“Are you off to give him a ‘whoopin’?” Bella asks, putting the word in air quotes.

“Something like that,” you muse, slipping past the doorway. You stop just past it, thinking for just a moment before you flip back again, clinging to the frame as you lean in, “I know you’re not going to stop looking Bella, but will you please keep what happened quiet? Can you trust me on that at least?”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she reassures you, and that’s enough.

You nod, “Thanks Tinkerbell.”

“(Y/n), I swear-”

“Bye!”

You’re almost down the stairs, laughing like a maniac, by the time she comes chasing after you. Even before you were a vampire, she never could match up to you in a race.

“I’ll tell Edward you said hi!” You call as you reach the door.

“Don’t you dare!”

You slam it shut behind you, taking off towards your car. Bella flings it back open, but doesn’t break past the threshold, merely glaring at you from the house. You flash her a blinding grin as you pull out of the driveway, fingers wiggling in a little wave.

Your cheeks might split from how wide you’re grinning as you race down the roads of Forks to the Cullen’s house.

Who knew things could be like this again. You never hoped in your wildest dreams that you could have this back once you changed. And now that you know it’s there, it’s possible, you can’t just let it go. No matter the storms, no matter the arguments, this is worth protecting.

Hopefully you can convince the others of it as well.

---

I love writing the sister dynamic. I don't have sisters, so I don't know if it's accurate, but this is what I'd hope my sister and I would be like.

I hope I'm balancing it all well, and I hope you guys enjoyed this part!

Part 3

[s-sugustar]

1-800-SUGAR!

synopsis : after an injury caused him to retire at an early age, aizawa has a lot of money in his bank account that was hardly ever used in his prime time; so why not splurge it on someone else?

pairings: yandere sugardaddy!aizawa x black!fem!reader

content warning : nothing yet.

word count : 2.2k

It has been a few months since Aizawa was no longer a hero. After the fight with Shigaraki, the sleep deprived man had no choice but to sever his leg from the rest of his body in order to stop the decay from spreading. Although immobilizing him to an extent, Aizawa still had the perks of being a UA teacher to his students.

Instead of fighting crime late at night into the wee hours of the morning, Aizawa finds himself catching on things he hadn't been able to do or complete for some time. This included reading literature, taking care of his plants and gaining much more rest than he had before.

It felt refreshing, he felt renewed but a small flicker of want called out to him. Of course, Aizawa had no idea what it could possibly be. Aizawa felt hopeless, like nothing could fill this growing void that garbled inside of him. It wasn't until one day that Hisashi, Aizawa's closest friend figured out what has made him so drained.

It was a night out for both Aizawa and Yamada; a bit unfortunate that Midnight wasn't able to attend due to a last-minute mission that required her assistance. Instead of crying over one less friend, they both decided to head out to a bar nearby. As the two settled down and ordered drinks, Hisashi started off the conversation. Gleefully updating Aizawa on the outer world things since Aizawa chose to move away from the world heroics and politics.

“So what have you been up to since you have all this time in the world now?” Haisahi questined, his drink in one hand and his chin laid flat on his open palm facing toward Aizawa. The man in question huffed, downing the cup of whiskey he had ordered earlier. “Not much. Other than school and reading a few literature books here and there.” Hisashi raised an eyebrow which caused the raven haired man to sigh in annoyance. “No Hisashi, there’s no ‘special person’ in my life.” Shouta commented, earning a dramatic groan from the blond next time.

After Aizawa left the heroic life, Hisashi pestered the man to find something that would take up most of his time, rather than sleep, working out and reading books. More so, Hisashi hinted at him getting into a relationship, but Aizawa quickly shot down the idea; claiming that him getting into a relationship of some sorts wouldn’t help him in any form or fashion so Hisashi pestered on. Aizawa never really had any love life as others would call it; in all honesty, he wasn;t interested in such trivial things.

A friendship seemed as pleasant as a relationship so what’s the big idea about a relationship? Was it the status, the wants and needs of being held? Aizawa never focused too long on such things, they were always on the back burner for him.

“I know you said you didn’t want a relationship of some sorts but have you tired being a sugar daddy?” Hisashi asked, a malicious smile on his face when he saw the way Aizawa’s eyes widen before coughing up the drink he had just downed. The poor man barely caught his breath before sneering at Hisashi, who seemed to have a blast at his misfortune. “Why is that even an idea for me? “ Aizawa asked, not bothering to stress of hte reason Hisashi thoughts this was a good idea in the first place.

“Oh come on, I mean, it isn’t a relationship as you said you had no interest in but you know, you have allllll that money sitting peacefully in your bank account and with me knowing the type of person you are, you won’t spend a red cent unless it is absolutely necessary for you to. So why not give the sugar daddy thing a try. Just for one week. If you don’t like it then we can totally stop whenever you are ready.” Hisashi voiced, giving Aizawa the option to opt out if he isn’t feeling it.”

With many thoughts running through his head , Aizawa stared at the empty glass in his hand before quietly answering, “I’ll think about it.” Hisashi squealed in delight, causing some of the others in the bar to look at him for a brief moment before turning back to whatever they were doing.

The alarm from your phone went off around 6:30 a.m. causing you to groan. The yawn that fell from your lips was a testament to how tired you were from your last shift. You stretched your limbs before moving from your position in your bed. After fixing your bed, you made your way over to your closet, pulling out your uniform from inside. The cold shower washed off any remaining tiredness that was in your body, soothing your skin and pushing your mind into a work state.

After locking your door, you made your way out of the apartment and onto the street, quickly checking your watch to see that you only had half an hour to get to work. ‘Shit.’ you thought, you ran over down to the metro station which was only a couple minutes away from your home. Hopping on, you placed your headphones into your ears, shuffling your playlist as you were on your way to work.

Upon entering, you quickly went over to your locker, the small tabby cat sticker that you had placed on it when you first came to work there. After pushing your bag into your locker, you quickly grabbed your apron before heading over to the cashier to start your day. You worked in a pastry shop as a source of retaining money. You first started it off as a way to pay off your student debt, but after a while and a bit of saving, you were able to move out and move into your own space.

Now it wasn’t massive or anything, but it was good enough for you to reside in. As you greeted customers with a smile and cashed in their orders. When it was close to your lunch hour, you exchanged with your other co-worker. After taking off your apron , you clocked out before grabbing your phone and heading down to a cafe nearby. As silly as it sounds, there was a small cafe nearby that you normally venture to during your lunch break. It was a small cute cat cafe that you heard about from some people back at where you worked.

You were cashing out an order when you heard Maxi, a chubby girl, who;s entire aesthetic was surrounded by barbie and white lace was gushing to her girlfriend Ana, who had been the complete opposite to Maxi; arm tattoos, piercings almost everywhere and bubble-pink hair. Without noticing, you tuned into their conversation. “Come on Ana, it’s super duper cute and they have cute cats there too. And I know how much you adore cats. It’s called Cat’s Haven you know, the people that own it, bring in rescued cats and give them a place to live.”

You zoned out after hearing about the cats, focusing on the customer that was in front of you. When it was time for your lunch hour, you handed over before going over to Maxi who was rolling the dough. “Hey Maxi, I uh, overheard you this morning talking about the new cat cafe that opened recently, I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation I just -”, you were interrupted when Maxi shook her head at you before answering. “Oh, no worries. I kind of figured you would tune in since I do recall you telling me that you love cats.” She gushed, handing over the rolled dough to her girlfriend before facing you.

“You remember where the old flower shop that Ms.Hatti once had?”, you nodded your head in agreement, remembering the times when you would go over there after you finished work and bought daisies for your mother on your way to home. A bittersweet memory when you think about it; mainly because your mother hadn’t been interested in much of anything pertaining to you during that time, even up until now. Ridding yourself of those negative emotions, you zoned in on what Maxi was saying, pushing away those negative thoughts that tried to force themselves inside the centre of your present state. After you were given directions, you thanked Maxi before heading out to the cafe.

Outside was a bit warmer than you had expected, so you pulled off your cardigan and wrapped it aroumd your waist, tying the sleeves to the front so that it wouldn’t fall. Once you got closer to the cafe, you could hear the slight buzz and chatter from those who were nearby. The feeling surrounding the cafe was that of newness and solitude.

As you entered the cafe, the bell jingled once you opened the door, alerting customers as well as workers. A comfortable buzz fell through the air as you entered, small meows and soft purrs filled the air . You looked around at the variety of cats that were all over the cafe. Small and big, different types varying from american bobtail to balinese.

Your heart warmed at the sight before spotting a lone maine coon resting near on a table near the back of the cafe; an empty booth where the lone cat rested. You were close to approaching when one of the waitresses stopped you. “ I know where you are going and i would advise you not to, “ she paused before continuing, “ that particular cat isn’t one we let customers interact with because of previous incidents. She’s known to be aggressive towards customers. Unfortunately, we can’t giver her back to the shelter so we just advise customers to steer clear from her.” You nodded in agreement, taking in the lady’s words but still hell bent on going after her. You thanked the waitress before walking over to the same table that you were warned of.

You slowed your actions, making sure not to startle the cat. Once you sat down, it seems that the cat that laid before you noticed your presence; so in return, she sat up and hissed in your direction, probably hoping that you would leave her alone, but you stayed. With a bright smile on your face, you pulled out a few treats from the little cat bag you were given when you entered.

Placing a small treat on the table for the orange cat, not bothering to annoy her. You stayed silent as the cat whose name you learned was Cinnamon, stared you down for while before slowly moving to the treat you had placed on the table. “Atta girl.” you whispered, silently placing down another treat for her to pick up. Many customers watched in awe and adoration of how you handled the cat.

As she ate, you watched in silence, barely resisting the urge to pet her. In a calm and cool environment, both you and the cat sat in silence, not bothering to intrude on one another’s presence but merely enjoying the low noise with hardly any interaction; other than you slowly feeding her treats, time and time again.

It was couple minutes before your lunch time was up so you decided to finish your treat before giving Cinnamon the rest of her treats before getting up to leave. Once you stood, you gathered all that had been yours and started towards the door.

Before you could leave, you were stopped by the same waitress who had warned you earlier. In awe and amazement at how easily you handled the fiesty cat, she gave you a warm smile, almost begging you to come back more oftern and tame the said cat.

“You must be some sort of cat whisperer,” she started, “I’ve never seen someone tame that cat as how you did, even more so stand aroundher for so long.” she mentioned, looking back at the said cat who rested quietly on the table, looking through the window at the birds outside. You giggled at the compliment before shaking your head. “I’m no cat whisperer, I’ve just had experience with cats like her before.” you smiled before making your way theough the door back to your job.

Now weeks after, going to the cat cafe had been a routine for you, once your lunch started, you quickly took off your apron and made a bee line straight to the cafe, only sitting wherever Cinnamon had been. You weren’t the only one who the cat had tolerated. Apparently, there was some other person who was able to do just as you did with the cat. Were you jealous, somewhat; since you did want that particular cat all to yourself but you didn’t catch a hissy fit over such things.

As you sat quietly in the booth, patiently waiting on your order, you watched as Cinnamon pushed her head against the palm of your hand, you chuckled before combing your hands through her fur, sighing at the vibrations her fluffy body made.

You really weren’t paying attention to your surroundings when it came to other people; you were a bit too engrossed by the fluffball in front of you. “So you’re the other ‘cat whisperer’ I’ve heard others talking about.”

A/n: it’s been awhile. Not as good but i’m getting back there.

[bvbygrl-writes]

Season of The Witch (6)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: The plot thickens!

Warnings: Napoleon Dynamite minor spoiler?? As usual 18+ so dni if you're a minor or blank account

As the month went by, you and Jacob were spending a lot

The next day seemed to drag on for ages. Every hour you found yourself checking the clock and although you were a bigger fan of the daytime, you couldn’t wait for midnight to come. You tidied up your room several times. Dusted the books and blinds, arranged your closet by color. Hell, you had even organized your candles by season.

And yet still, even with all of that, it was only 3PM. Finally accepting the fact that you could not control time at will, you went down into the living room, flopping down on the large couch with an overly dramatic sigh. Your dad peeks over his book, giving you a curious smile.

“All good over there?” he asks. You switch to lay on your stomach facing him, propping your face against your fist.

“I’m fine, Dad. There’s just literally nothing to do around here.” you explain. He turns the page of his book, humming in response. It grows quiet for a bit and you let out another exasperated sigh. He chuckles, closing his book. You felt bad for annoying him on one of his rare off days but you knew he didn’t mind too much. If he could put up with your eccentric mother, he could put up with you.

“How about you hang out with Bella?” he asks. You flop forward, your face sinking into the plush cushion.

“She’s at her girlfriend’s place.”

“Jacob?”

“Busy.” You hear the sound of your mom’s heavy rain boots come down the stairs. Craning your neck, you look up at her. Her gorgeous curls are tied up in two messy buns on the top of her hair. She’s got on a striped shirt and a pair of overalls she had stolen from your closet.

“You could come help me in the yard. There’s a lot of things I need to harvest and pack up to send over to the bakery.” you bite at your lip as you think on her offer.

“Okay.” she smiles, giving your dad a quick peck to the cheek before motioning for you to follow her. Throwing on a pair of old boots you don’t care about, you exit the back door following her. Grabbing the basket near the back, you trudge after her in the wet grass, the sound of your boots plapping along. She walks over to the blueberry bush, beginning to toss them into the basket in your hands. Her eyes don’t leave you as she does. She’s got that look on her face like she knows something you don’t. “What?” you question. She shrugs, turning around to face the bush.

“Oh nothing. Just looks like you have a lot on your mind.” she responds in a knowing tone. You glare at the back of her head irritated. Ever since you were a little girl, she was always good at reading you. No magic needed. You bite at the inside of your cheek, debating on whether to tell her.

“Well the thing is…I like this guy.” you start but she interrupts.

“Jacob?” she questions, peering over her shoulder with curious eyes. You nod, picking at the fraying woven pieces on the wicker basket.

“But the thing is I also like someone else too.” her eyes widened for a bit before returning to a more neutral expression. She motions for you to follow as she starts to pick some strawberries next, tossing them inside your basket alongside the blueberries.

“Well, which do you like more?” she asks you, the same question that was looping through your head last night as you tried to sleep. The same question that’s plagued you for the past month. The same fucking question that had your heart filled with guilt and frustration. You had known Jacob for longer, each moment together being beyond amazing. But with Edward, it was just as magical. They both stirred your heart in ways you didn’t know were possible. 

“I…I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.” you mutter softly. It grows quiet as your mom continues to pick strawberries. After the bush is empty she finally pauses, wiping her hand down the front of her overalls before turning to face you fully.

“I never taught you this ritual because you honestly never seemed interested in dating but, I suppose that’s changed.” she says. You listen intently as she begins to walk towards the flower section of the garden. You follow blindly, waiting to see what else she has to say. “Before bed tonight, I want you to pick seven different flowers. Put them under your pillow and when you dream, your answer will be revealed then.” your throat grows dry.

“Meaning?” you asked hesitantly.

“Whichever guy shows up in your dream is your true soulmate.” you froze. Were you ready to find that out? The past month had been amazing with both of them. It felt like you were unthawing after nineteen years of being frozen in ice. Jacob was sweet, kind, always making sure to put you first. Edward was romantic and intense, making you feel like you were in a nineteenth century romance novel. You didn’t want to choose. You’re drawn out of your thoughts at the feeling of your mom smoothing out your hair. 

“It’ll be okay. If they like you as much as you like them, everything will work out. Why don’t you come to Port Angeles with me? I need your opinion on some final touches in the bakery.” she asks. You nod in agreement, deciding stepping outside of Forks for a few hours was just what you needed. Maybe that would keep you distracted until it was time to see Edward later.

Although time seemed to be against you in one way earlier, it was now doing the same thing in reverse. You and your mom had been in the bakery for many hours now. You had your phone connected to the speakers, playing music as you canned all the fresh ingredients as she organized the nonperishable ones on a shelf in the storage room. Your heart had finally calmed down at some point which you were very thankful for. Whether it was the loaves of rosemary garlic bread she had in the oven or the sound of her singing along to 90s classics, you were actually having a good time. 

The timer on the oven played a little tune, signaling that the bread was done. Not wanting your mom to have to stop what she was doing, you grab a set of oven mitts sitting it down on top of the stove. You closed your eyes as you took in the scent, your mouth watering at the delightful smell.

“I guess the ovens work well then!” Your mom says, rushing to look at the loaves. She waves her hand over one, causing it to levitate from the pan, landing in nice slices on a plate. She then rushes towards one of the large silver fridges, grabbing out a mason jar of homemade butter. You anxiously look around for a knife in the many drawers before finding one, meeting her back over at the oven. You both spread some on a slice, letting out a noise of content.

“Amazing as usual, Mom.” you compliment, mouth still full of the warm bread. She nods along, swallowing hers politely before beginning to speak.

“Why don’t you bring the other loaf to the Blacks tomorrow? I’m sure they’d enjoy it.” you eye her up curiously. “Okay, fine! You caught me. And you could see Jacob too.” she admits, wiggling her eyebrows some. You scoff, turning around to find the bread bags, carefully placing them both in their own respective ones. That woman sure is a handful. You commend your dad for putting up with her antics. Your eyes flicker up to the clock on the wall. 11:00 PM glared at you in red lettering.

“It’s getting late, we should get going.” you say, motioning towards the clock. She nods, grabbing her keys off the island in the center before skipping towards the door. You follow her eagerly, turning off the lights as you exit the store.

When you got home, you instantly rushed up the stairs. It was about 11:50 and a sinking feeling in you told you Edward was very punctual, being from a different time and all. You threw a random sweatshirt on along with your favorite pajama pants. Looking in the mirror, you tousle your hair a bit, reaching for some much needed lip balm. You search your room once more, making sure nothing too embarrassing was laid out. Once you decided you were in the clear, you walked in front of your dresser, using it to prop yourself up as you reached to pull down the projector screen from the ceiling. Right as you did so, you heard the balcony door opening, looking just in time to see Edward shutting the door behind him. 

He walks over to you, holding you close. He drags his nose from your hair, to your neck, but pulls back a bit once he gets to your shirt. He grimaces a bit, pulling back some. Confused, you look down at your sweatshirt eyes widening. You instantly recognized the forest green sweatshirt to be Jacob’s. ‘He must’ve left it here when he slept over last week’ you thought to yourself.

“Whose is that?” he questions, his expression cold. You rock back and forth on your feet but your body suddenly stops as he wraps his arms around your waist tighter, holding you still.

“If you have to ask, you already know. In my defense, I didn’t look before I put it on.” you explain. He examines your face as if he’s searching for a lie but he doesn’t detect one. His expression softens as he places a soft kiss on your forehead. You reach up, holding his face between your hands, he calms down a bit more, smiling at you gently before gently returning to a more serious look.

“I really don’t like how much claim he seems to have over you,” he reaches down for the small wolf pendant around your neck, his grip tightening around it. You think he’s about to rip it off until he suddenly releases it, moving his other hand to his back pocket. You look at his hands to see a box. It’s a small black velvet one with a pink bow tied around it. “Which is why I got you these. I wanted you to have something to remind you of me too.” you stare up at him before staring back down at the box, pulling at the ends of the ribbon. Removing the lid, you gasp. There’s a medium sized pair of bat shaped earrings. The bats are encrusted in black obsidian and from them hangs garnets in the shape of teardrops, resembling blood.

“I can’t accept these. They’re way too nice!” you exclaim, trying to push the box back into his hands. But, he’s quicker, pushing them back into your hands. His hands tighten around yours making sure the box stays in your hold.

“No such thing for you.” The way he stares into your eyes is so intense, almost bone chilling. It’s quite the challenge to look away but you do, taking the earrings out of the box and carefully placing them in your jewelry box.

“Well, thank you.” you toss him a soft smile over your shoulder before sitting criss-crossed on your bed, flush against the headboard. He joins you, his leg brushing against yours as he stretches them out. You giggle to yourself about how they practically reach the bottom of your bed.

“Are we watching something?” he questions, motioning to the projector screen. You nod, using your streaming remote to search for the movie you’re looking for.

“I figured there’s a lot of movies you’ve probably never seen. I enjoy the idea of torturing you with 90s and 2000s cheesy movies.” he groans, throwing his head back causing you to laugh some more. “Have you ever seen Superbad?” you click on the title, quickly adding the subtitles as well.

“If the title is any indicator, I’m not sure I want to.” he snorts out sarcastically.

For hours, the two of you sit there watching all of your favorites. D.E.B.S, 21 Jump Street, Jawbreaker, even Napoleon Dynamite. He pretends to not be enjoying it but every once in a while, you catch him out of the corner of your eye grinning. You found yourself resting your head on his lap as he massaged your scalp gently, the coolness of his body pairing amazingly with the feeling of your fleece blanket.

 Your eyes light up as Napoleon steps onto the stage, the cheesy disco music beginning to play. You have this scene memorized at this point but you're desperate to see Edward’s reaction. As the scene progresses, the corners of his mouth twitch and spasm, trying his best to scowl. But as Napoleon’s moves pick up, Edward begins to cackle. The corner of his eyes crinkle up as he continues to laugh.

“And you said you wouldn’t like it!” you tease, he looks down at you, mimicking your words. You pinch him at his side having little to no effect on him.

“Alright, I’ll admit it. You’ve got good taste.” Edward says, holding up his hands in defense. You smile triumphantly, returning your attention to the screen, just in time to see Napoleon run from the stage.

As the credits roll, you let out a tired yawn, stretching out. Edward sits up and you do too, looking at him with a curious face.

“It’s getting late and I really don’t want to ruin your sleep schedule too much.” He says standing up, beginning to walk towards the balcony. You pout, following him. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s already hard for me to resist you as it is.”

“I know you’re right but still! There’s so many we haven't watched yet.” you argue. He runs a hand down your face, holding it there. His thumb gently stroking your cheek in circles.

“We have time, ages really.” your expression drops more at that. Did you? In a matter of moments, it’d be time to perform the Seven Flowers ritual. If he wasn’t in your dream, you’d never have another night like this. Another night of smiles and laughter, of soft and gentle touches with him. You don’t speak but instead just nod in agreement, a sad smile on your face. His face shifts in concern but he doesn’t push. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he’s gone into the night without a trace.

The cold fall air strangles your body as you step fully out onto the balcony. Sitting on the edge, you allow your body to float to the ground, the wet grass tickling the soles of your feet. Padding over to the garden, you let out a shaky breath as you begin picking flowers, one of each color until you have seven in total.

With the bouquet in your hand, you float back up to your balcony and enter your room, sticking them under your pillow. Climbing into bed, you run a finger over the soft pillow case letting out a sigh. “Here goes nothing.” Your body stills as you drift off into sleep, the blackness of your mind fading to imagery.

The sky is a gorgeous cerulean, white and puffy clouds float above you. Stretching out your arms, the grass is both prickly and soft, petals of delicate flowers touching the tips of your fingers. It’s peaceful, beautiful. You don’t know how you got here but that thought doesn’t worry you because you have this deep knowing that you are safe.

A tan arm extends out in front of you and you take the large hand. Your body is swiftly lifted up. Your eyes widen, lips parted as Jacob stands before you. He’s dressed in all white, and as you look down so are you. A pretty white nightgown and you’re not sure what happened to your shoes but you don’t think about that for long. He smiles at you, spinning you around in the air. The two of you laugh, your bodies practically melting into each other. Finally he sets you on the ground. Time slows down as he leans down, his pink lips pressed against your own. You grip his short locks as the kiss deepens, allowing your body to fall into him.

As he pulls away, another hand, a colder hand tilts your face away from Jacob. It’s…Edward? He’s also dressed in white. He kisses you with just as much conviction as Jacob, pulling you into his arms. As he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. Jacob comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist but not moving you away from the man in front of you. His chin rests on your shoulder, his eyes closing in content. There’s no anger in sight, just pure love surrounding you from the two of them.

You jolt straight up, gasping for air. Lifting a shaky hand, you rest it over your chest. “What in the actual fuck?!”

7

[v4leoftears]

Fireworks

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader.

Summary: 4th of July might be a fun celebration for a lot of people but for Matt and his senses, so you try your best to cheer him up through the night.

CW: 18+ Fluff and smut, oral sex (Matt receiving).

A/N: No use of Y/N, pet names like angel and sweetheart, non gender specific, there's only sexual mention of reader being wet and pronouns aren't really used because of the pet names.

ENJOY!!

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"Hey Matty! I'm home" You say as you close the door of his apartment, juggling your backpack and a couple grocery store bags. There's no sound audible around his place besides the ones coming out of his bathroom, he must be in the shower. You hurriedly walk towards the kitchen counter and place the bags with food and treats on top of it before you take your backpack and reach to the big windows of the living room. You are determined to tape them with cardboard pieces in order to muffle some of the outside noise of the busy night when Matt steps out of the bathroom.

"Hey angel, what do you have planned for tonight huh?" He gestures to the place you are standing, caught in the act of taping his windows to give him a little peace.

"OH! I just thought it would be good to try cardboard to help ease the noise outside, ‘you think that will help you?" You say as you smile waiting for his answer.

"It might, yeah" He says, approaching you and giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You don't have to worry about it though, I can just try to ignore them as most noise these days".

"NONSENSE!" You almost yell, you can't conceal the excitement in your tone.

Due to his nightly duties these last weeks you've only been able to see him past midnight, when he arrived at the apartment to have a quick bath and pass out by your side on the bed, so you are counting on tonight to have a full day with him by your side.

"Go make yourself comfortable! I have a full schedule prepared for tonight and you can't say no to anything I have in mind, you got that?" You say as you finish up taping a large piece of cardboard.

"That sounds ominous, but I'm in!" Matt chuckles as it pulls you to his body to give you a soft kiss before heading to the kitchen and grabbing a beer.

As a few minutes pass by and you run out of cardboard to tape you head to the kitchen, where Matt is still standing lost in his thoughts, the beer on his hand almost gone. "What's on your mind today Matty? I can practically hear your thoughts” You say with a bit of worry on your lips. "Are you wondering what's for dinner or you are not hungry yet?" You ask him as you start washing up the veggies for the meal.

"Oh sorry... I mean yeah I'm hungry. I'm just a little distracted that's all" He says as he tilts his head attentively at your cooking. "What are you making?" he asks.

"I figured since it goes according to the celebration theme, burgers were in order, don't worry though I got the meat and bread you like and the freshest veggies around!" You say as he reaches for you, placing his hands on your hips.

"Thank you angel” he says while his head comes closer to you kissing your neck sensually. “How could I ever repay all your kindness?" he adds, entoning almost like a whisper in your ear as he pulls you in for a hungry kiss when the first explosion of the night startles him in the act.

You feel his body go stiff at the sound and you can't help but feel anguished, quickly reminding yourself about the couple of things you brought to help him through the night.

You turn around to face him while you dry your hands and cup his face gently "You oblivious man you don't have to repay anything, I just want to make you happy" You say as you peck a quick kiss on his soft lips. "Now, the noises are about to get stronger" You reach for your backpack as you take out a couple of earplugs for Matt to use. "Here, take these, go play some music before you put them on and try to relax a little while I finish up preparing the food ok?" You give his lips one last kiss before you turn back to your task and he does as he is told.

After you finish up the meal you reach out to Matt, he is just laying back on the couch when you gently reach to touch his still damp hair "Food is ready, just tell me when to plate it up for you", you lean down for a kiss and he tugs you in for a hug until you are laying completely on top of him.

You stay there for a couple of seconds, heat rising from the bodies compacting together until you hungrily reach for a passionate kiss, tongue and teeth playing with each other. You can definitely feel his edge, even with the plugs in his ears his senses must be craving to release some tension and you have just the solution.

Your hand starts to reach out for the inside of his pants, gently grabbing his growing erection into a pleasurable position while you keep kissing him mindlessly. The soft groans he is letting out with each breath slowly driving you insane.

"Let me help you" you tell him with that lust coating your voice he can't ever deny, he agrees to your request with a simple nod as you pull yourself together, sitting him up as you get ready on your knees. You tug his pants down as he explores your face with his hands, gentle calloused touches that you love to feel. Such íntimate gesture make your heart ache and burn every time as you kiss one of his fingers when they reach for your mouth, his beautiful flustered face contorts to a gorgeous smile as you start trailing hungry kisses all the way down to his aching lenght, and without a second thought you take the tip, teasing it with your warm mouth and tongue, salty precum making you salivate at the delicious familiar taste, you want more, so much more, but tonight isn't about you, you are on a mission to help him out and that's what you are going to do.

His rough whimpers start numbing your senses, It's time for you to start taking him deeper as you bob your head up and down to please him the best you can, your eyes trail his beautiful scarred torso heaving with lust, the sight almost sacred to your sinful eyes, giving you a strong impulse to satiate your own need as you start touching your soaking wet sex in sync to your bobbing head, he is close, you can feel him buckling up to reach further into your throat as you feel yourself increasing the pace of your hand to come all over your ruined underwear. You focus your gaze to meet Matt’s face, you can see his tongue darting out to taste your wetness in the air and it pushes him to the limit, grabbing your head in a couple of rough movements as he spills down inside your aching throat and you come all over your hand, your mind goes blank as your eyes meet his orgasmic expression, you feel at heaven in that moment, drinking every last drop he has to offer before letting your head go and pull you in for a sloppy kiss, tasting himself in your warm and used mouth.

"I’m... sorry angel" He says in a shy and panting voice as you just stay there for a couple more seconds, enjoying the bliss on your brain.

"What for?" you ask playfuly, "that was just the appetizer," you say as you get on your feet "I'll go wash my hands, you can go prepare your plate as you like and I will join you in a second".

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

After the shared meal of the night you've placed your laptop on the small coffee table in front of the couch, snuggling now into Matt's warmth, the both of you now getting comfortable to enjoy a movie.

You've plugged in Matt's noise canceling headphones, he refused at first because he wanted you to hear the movie as well but you insisted him to use them for an extra layer of quietness, plus you've seen the movie a couple times before so it was fine to just read subtitles this time, and as the movie progressed you started to fall asleep on his arms. 

You’ve both lost track of the time, comfortably laying there when a wave of noisy explosions woke you up from your sleep, your racing heart now thumping in your chest as you reach for Matt's arms to check if he was doing alright. 

“It’s okay sweetheart, I got you” he said as he plants a kiss on the back of your head, by the sound of his voice you assume he didn’t get a chance to fall asleep like you did. “I’m sorry I fell asleep, I really wanted to take care of you tonight” you roll yourself over to embrace him in a hug as he reciprocates. 

“You did angel, as long as you are here I don’t really care about the rest” he says with a muffled voice as he cradles to the inside of your neck and you start playing with his messy hair. 

“You know” You say softly, “there’s an extra little something I prepared for tonight, but we can stay like this for as long as you want”, your statement gets Matt’s attention, he tilts his head towards your voice and he starts to sit straight on the couch, causing it to leave your warm embrace. “And what is that?, you want to do it now?” he stares blankly at your direction as you fix yourself and stare back at his kind eyes.

“I think now will be a good time, yes” You reply as you get up from the couch grabbing his hand, you walk a few steps guiding Matt towards the stairs that lead to the rooftop and as you reach the top of them you grab a small plastic bag you left there with the hope he will agree to its contents.

“We are gonna see the fireworks!” You say, as you open the door of the rooftop, Matt's face lits up with colored lights as you appreciate every shadow and hue painting his face, walking towards the center and sitting down to a comfortable position as Matt follows by your side.

“I hope the noise it’s not too bad, you still have your earplugs right?”, he nods as he places them back to his ears.

“Alright, get ready because you are about to experience fireworks like you have never before!”  You say excitedly as you start taking out the plastic bag contents into your lap, varieties of fizzy and pop rock candy fall at your knees and you start mixing and matching them together as you see Matt attention shifting into your task.

“You are so going to ruin my teeth tonight” he blurts out, “Please have mercy on me and tell me you didn’t get one of those sour candies you eat sometimes” he says while laughing and poking your sides to get you riled up.

“Come on! you know I only eat those to disturb your senses, and tonight I’m in no mood to mess with you” you say as you hand him one of the mixture bags, “Perhaps only a little! but hear me out, you eat those when I tell you alright?” you add as you focus your gaze to the sky, timing the next explosion to happen in your mind.

“You are the boss!” he says back with a little laugh, he interlaces his free fingers with yours as you start counting down in your head.

3…

2…

1…

“NOW!” you yell and he shoves part of the weird candy mixture into his mouth, an explosion takes over the sky and a rain of blue and red paint the scenario, shifting your eyes to see his expression crunching up as he takes in the popping sounds of the candies, the sweet and sour taste of the blueberry and cherry fizzle dust flooding his taste buds as he imagines the colors illuminating the night sky while you start narrating the shapes and tones of all the upcoming explosions, a wide smile spreads across Matts face as you continue to detail the fireworks.

A couple of minutes pass that way, filled with grins and tummy aches caused mostly by the laughter of you almost choking to death with the fizzle dust as the noises start to fade out. Suddenly a calm wave hit both of you as Matt focuses his gaze towards your place on the rooftop and he asks, “In a single word, how would you describe what you just saw tonight?”,  you fix your eyes to meet him, a warm and sheepish smile covering his face, faint colors of the latest explosions still lingering on his features in a beautiful and almost painful way you couldn't believe your sight... “Gorgeous” you blurt out and without thinking you pull him in for a lovingly long kiss, still tasting the remnants of the tingly candies and melting inside with fondness, you will be remembering this lovely night for countless moons to come.

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This was supposed to be released sooner but got caught up in work and things around, still I hope everyone likes it!! (Let me know what you think/how I can improve! ILY all!! ♡).

[lemoncrushh]

Witchcraft

PART ONE NOW ON PATREON

Summary: Three hundred years after his twenty-first year on earth, Harry Styles awakens to realise his new fate, not one of a pop star, but that of a witch.

Part 1 Word Count: 5356

A/N: This is a story I started a while back. If you followed me here last year, you may remember it. I was going to wait til closer to October to repost it, but I've decided to put it on Patreon for now since I'm so behind with writing. A witchrry fic, written from his pov. Takes place in the future when Stevie Nicks is the leader of a coven.

Small sneak peek below...

Blackness. Pure dark midnight is all I see as I open my eyes. I know they’re open, though I can see nothing - no shapes or silhouettes of any kind. I’m not even sure if it’s my own bed underneath me, or if I’m actually lying on anything at all.

That’s when I hear it. It starts low, the faint muffled sounds of someone - or something. I try to lift myself, my hands grasping for whatever is beneath me, but it’s only then that I realise I’m no longer lying face down. Disoriented as I punch the air with my fist, I suddenly panic again, hoping for something to grab onto, or at least to see. Screaming into the silence, I find my voice is mute, no sound coming from my mouth, or even my chest.

The muffled sounds seem to get closer then, and I desperately reach out to where I think it’s coming from. A hand from nowhere suddenly touches mine, and forthwith my entire body begins to tremble.

Before I can protest and attempt to scream out again, the darkness slowly fades as though dawn has just broken. A golden light seems to shine up from beneath wherever it is I am lying, and two ebony eyes stare back into mine.

“It’s okay now,” a voice says, though I’m unsure if it belongs to the same figure from which the eyes belong. It sounds more like an echo from far away. “You’re safe.”

I attempt once more to make a sound, but all I can manage is a croak. I catch the red lips beneath the eyes curving up into a smile, and I’m suddenly affected by a warm sensation of contentment.

“You’re pretty,” she says.

“So are you,” I rasp, surprising myself.

She laughs, a lovely coo that excites me.

“Save your voice, love.”

I would say more despite her demand, if not for the three other figures entering the space. Turning my head - which is no doubt being cradled by the softest pillow known to man - I catch a glimpse of more lovely creatures. My heart skips a beat when it recognises the one in the center.

“Ooh, good choice, mum, he’s a dish!” exclaims the tall male figure on the right.

“Hush, Victor,” chides the middle one, a petite woman with a timeless face and hair like spun gold. “I didn’t choose him. I told you. He was already chosen.”

The woman with ebony eyes beside me, still holding my hand, gleefully chuckles once again.

“Yes,” she sings as her long fingernails graze my flesh. “Besides, he’s mine anyway. I already decided.”

“Isabel-” Victor snaps.

“Hush! The both of you!” demands the one in charge. The queen. Though my thoughts are still unintelligible, my brain still fuzzy, I know this to be true.

Her face softening quickly, leaving no trace of indignation, she steps forward. As if on cue, Isabel leaves her post, taking a new place next to Victor and the one who has yet to make a sound.

“Harry, my child,” smiles the queen as she leans forward, taking my hand. The feeling of deja vu comes over me as I hear her say my name, though I cannot quite place hers. “Welcome. We have been waiting for you.”

“Waiting…” I cough. “Where- where am I?”

“Home,” she replies, as if that was the most obvious answer.

Looking into her eyes, I study them. Though not as dark as Isabel’s, they are still a lovely chocolate shade. My gaze examining the rest of her face, I notice lines but not wrinkles. Her face is porcelain, her lips perfectly shaped. I know this face, I remind myself.

My eyes shift to her hand wrapped around mine, covered in a lace glove. Fingerless. Red fingertips. Again, familiar. Everything looks and feels recognisable about her, just as familiar as my own mother or the tattoos inked on my skin.

“I...I know you, don’t I?” I finally manage to ask, my throat incredibly wretched and sore.

“Of course, darling,” she beams at me. And almost instantaneously, I know, before she speaks it herself. “I’m Stevie Nicks.”

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

Also, if you enjoy my writing, please consider joining my Patreon!

[andreafmn]

Bound | Chapter 4

Word Count: 4.9K Warnings: implied/referenced SA, trauma, trauma responses, mentions of death, torture, mentions of DV

Summary: Rosalie always carried the resentment of not being able to fulfill the image of the perfect family she had in her head. But the universe had set out to grant her everything she could've hoped for in the most unconventional way and in the form of a witch. Can their love withstand the promise of forever or will Rosalie and (Y/N) succumb to the grapples of time?

A/N: So, I noticed that the time span of Rosalie's kills take around a year according to Midnight Sun (which I have yet to read) which is why the timeline won't match up very well, but I think it still works... maybe... hopefully. Sorry it took so long to update this story, I honestly did not have time to keep writing it for a bit. This was meant to come out yesterday but I fell asleep 🫣🫣 Also, to any and all survivors of SA that you are not alone and what happened to you is not your fault, it never will be. I hope you have healed or are healing. And if you ever just need an ear to listen, I am here. 🤍

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Three months had passed since the night that changed Rosalie’s life for eternity, and the Hubert brothers had been found dead. Two, since Ulysses Levitt ran out of town with a girl his family would have never approved, and the body of John Harris was found in his hotel room, asphyxiated and with a broken neck. 

Word had spread through the town of a killer that was taking the lives of prominent young figures. They had ransacked through two families already, and it was rumored they had taken the Levitt son hostage, regardless of the letter left. It made families hold their young ones closer to them, hypervigilant of their every move.  No one wanted their child to be next. No one wanted to weep for their child. Not even for them to go missing. 

Because none of them knew that they had nothing to worry about. 

Well, other than the King family. The royal family of Rochester, New York, would suffer a great loss that night at the hands of who would have been their greatest acquisition. She would take his life into her hands the way he had done with hers. He would clamor for mercy, beg for forgiveness, plead for another chance. And she would laugh in his face. 

There weren’t many places Royce could hide in that Rosalie would not have found him. He could have hidden a thousand feet underground, and she would have carved at the ground with her own hands until she got to him. He would not get away from her without paying for what he had done. She was judge, jury, and executioner, and she would make sure his sentence was fulfilled. 

In the Cullen residence, the other three vampires walked on eggshells around Rosalie. The anger that radiated from the girl was hot enough that any closeness could leave them burned. Even if their words and worries came from a place of concern –at least from Carlisle and Esme– she did not want to hear them. All she had time for was her revenge. There was nothing else she had to look forward to. 

She didn’t want to be angry. It was an all-consuming emotion that she did not wish to impart on the family that had “rescued” her.

“Good morning, Rosalie,” Esme called the girl’s attention as she readied herself for the day. “How are you feeling today?”

“As well as I can be while my rapist’s heart still beats,” she shrugged, brushing the golden curls in her hair. “Apart from that, I guess not worse than I felt yesterday.”

“That’s good, I think,” the woman offered a smile. “Hopefully tomorrow is better.” 

“Oh, it will be. Once Royce gets what’s coming for him, the universe will balance itself out. After that… well, we’ll see when we get there.” 

Esme remained quiet for a moment, weighing whether or not her words were welcomed in the blonde’s space. The last thing the woman wanted was to make something snap inside the girl. She was already fragile as it was, even if she wouldn’t allow herself to be, and Esme didn’t want to be the drop of water that made her cup overflow. “May I offer you some words?” she asked against her better judgment.

“If you’re trying to get me to see how wrong it is to take a life, please save your breath,” she responded, holding in her laughter at the irony of her sentence. “Carlisle and Edward have tried, and I can tell you there is nothing you can say that will make me desist from my plan.” 

“Well,” Esme sighed with a smile on her face. “Then, can I tell you about my story? I can’t say that I lived through the horrors of what you did, but I did have my own monster.” The blonde simply nodded in approval, her attention fully on the woman before her. “I didn’t envision my life turning out this way, much like you. When I was younger, I dreamed of being a school teacher. I wanted to mold the minds of my students and help them navigate this crazy world. But my parents wanted me to be the perfect wife. They wanted me to stay home and marry. And I did. I thought then that my life would be better. That’s what my parents had promised, so that’s what I believed. 

“Yet, the man that I married became the monster in the fairytale my parents had designed. He was abusive. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. He made me feel like I had no escape. And my parents perpetuated that behavior. They told me to keep it quiet. That no one in town would ever believe that he could do anything like that,” the woman continued. Rosalie could tell how difficult it was to tell her story. She could see the fear flashing in her eyes and the tremble in her hands as she felt the ghosts of her past creeping up her neck. And she wondered if that was the way she would look. Regardless of her impenetrable body, anyone would be able to see the pain plastered on her face. “There was some solace when the Great War passed. He was drafted, and I had months of peace. I learned that you don’t know how deep in the chaos you have gotten until you see a way out. Deep down, I hoped he never returned. It was easier to be a widow than to live the rest of my life in fear.

“But, much to my dismay, he came back once the war had ended. I knew my sentence was until death did us part. Until I became pregnant a few months after his return, and there was a new life to fight for,” Esme said. “I ran as far as I could. I needed to protect my baby, and I couldn’t do that if I was dead. He found me the first time, though. So, I ran again. For some time, I even became a teacher. For the first time in so many years, I was happy. I had fulfilled my childhood dream, and I was building my own family. But all of that ended when my baby died only two days after being born. I had changed my entire life for my son, and he had been ripped away from me in just 48 hours. With him gone, I had nothing left to live for. And well, after all that, Carlisle changed me. 

“I will say that I assimilated to this life quickly. It was easy when the alternative had been so horrendous for me. But, the reason I’m telling you this is not because I just wanted you to hear my sorrowful story,” she chuckled softly. “A couple of years after I was changed, Edward grew rebellious. We didn’t have a bad life, much less a bad relationship. But he was only a year younger than you are when he was turned, and he was growing angsty with our way of life, especially our diet. He went on a rampage, finding the worst of the worst among humans using his ability. He only returned to us two years ago. But he told me who his first victim had been. It had been my ex-husband. He told me how he made sure he suffered, that he yelled for mercy, and pleaded to God to save him.

“It should have made me feel better that he was gone. That he couldn’t hurt anyone any longer, for the world had to be a better place without another monster walking in its midst. I did feel relief for a second that he could not get to anyone else, but it didn’t really matter. He had still hurt me, and his being dead didn’t change that. All I could do was try and move past it. Not forgetting what he did to me, but learning to live with it,” she explained. Esme approached Rosalie, taking her hands in hers and staring deeply into the red eyes before her. “Killing Royce won’t stop the hurt from taking over your heart, Rosalie, just as I know that killing those other four men hasn’t satiated the ire inside you.”  

“Even if it won’t fix what they tore inside me, I can make sure it doesn’t happen to any other woman. At least, the ones that would have fallen victim to them if they weren’t dead,” Rosalie said through gritted teeth. There were no tears to hold back, as much as she wanted them. She wanted them to make her eyes burn with anticipation, and she couldn’t almost remember that feeling and trick herself that it was happening. But the stream never came. “I cannot let him walk free on this earth after seeing just how well he can hide the kind of monster he is. If he was going to marry me and he did what he did, I don’t want to imagine what he would do to a woman he doesn’t even know. I’m not doing this to heal anything inside me or because I am seeking inner peace. I am doing this so they can never do this again.”

 Esme knew there was nothing she could say that would deter Rosalie from finishing her plan. Instead of drowning with more words, she simply smiled and told her she understood. Before leaving the girl be, she turned and said, “You should take a stroll through the garden. This summer the nightshade has sprouted beautifully.” 

Rosalie stared at herself in the mirror, and the vision that stared back at her startled her. Dressed in a strikingly white dress that was as close as possible to the one she had picked out with her mother was unsettling. Much more knowing that to that day, she should have been already three months married… or three months dead. 

But she was neither. 

No. Her blood-red eyes reminded her that she was not married and she was stuck in a land that was not quite living but not quite dead. She was stuck as she was in a world that was no longer hers for the taking. Still, if there was one thing that was still hers, it was the ability to taste Royce’s death already. 

She had found his hideout rather quickly. He had trapped himself in the basement of an abandoned bank building that was still under his family’s possession. Little did he know that in his hiding, he had given her the perfect place to rid the world of the monster he was. His soul would forever be trapped somewhere that perfectly represented him –cold, dark, and made just for money. 

Everything was already going to plan. The crate of whiskey had been delivered on time and sent directly into the vault with food and other necessities. All she needed to do was wait it out for an hour. Sixty minutes to allow the paranoia to set in, for the hallucinations to fester, for all the pain and discomfort to rip its way across his body. She would allow the little plant to set her stage because she would be the main act that day. 

Rosalie waited until she could not wait any longer. Until she knew his mind would have started its descent into madness. She wanted him to be trembling in his skin before she made her grand entrance. 

From the bank's main lobby, she could hear Royce’s racing heart, his breathing heave, and his frantic steps. It would have been the most intoxicating song had her heart not been filled with dark hatred. His suffering meant nothing to her until it was her own hands inflicting the pain. She had to get into that room sooner rather than later. 

Though Royce was her main target, she needed to get past the two men that guarded the vault door. Innocent souls that had to be reaped because of the sins of a monster. Her parents had taught her the just paid for the guilty. And in matters of love and war, all was fair. That afternoon, two souls would join the five that had shredded her own. She would grant them a quick and painless death, and go on with the rest of the plan. 

And so, she snapped the men’s necks and laid them on the floor. She closed their eyes and prayed to whatever higher power that was out there to forgive their trespasses, granting them safe passage into the afterlife. There wasn’t much she believed in anymore, but she needed to believe that at least the innocent made their way to something better. 

With those men out of the way, Rosalie could finally accomplish what she had to do. It’s showtime, she told herself. No turning back now. 

The door wasn’t locked, only put together to give Royce the semblance of security. Not that it would have mattered. Supernatural strength and speed allowed it not to matter. Without even knowing it, Royce had written his death sentence the second he had left her for dead. 

“No. No. No. No,” she heard him mutter. “It’s not my fault. It’s not. I didn’t do it.” 

Delirium. Truly perfect. 

“Honey,” she smiled as she burst through the door, making the entire building tremble under her strength. “I’m home.” 

“No, God, please,” Royce cried as he cowered in a corner, his eyes growing as big as saucers at the vision before him. Locked inside that room, he had felt he had started to go crazy. Hidden in the shadows lived the person that had haunted his friends and was haunting him now. He knew whoever it had been was bidding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike. What he had not expected was to see her. “How are you here? How are you showing her to me?” 

“I am not a mirage, dear Royce,” Rosalie said, smoothing down her gown. It dragged behind her as she walked, the sound of the fabric swishing on the ground mixing beautifully with the sound of his racing heart. “I am actually here. Standing before you as I would have months ago.” 

“But you died… I mean, you had to have died.” 

“Oh, I did,” Rosalie sighed. She crossed the room elegantly, taking in how it had been transformed. An elegant bed was pressed against one of the walls, the sheets perfectly done as though no one had ever dared sleep on them. Truly, the entire place had been decorated to portray a luxury suite, like the ones in the many hotels the King family frequented. Beautiful and expensive. Much like the armchair she sat on to face the man directly. “You see, I stand before you today completely dead. Well… technically undead. I’m living, but I’m not alive, Royce. I’m what you might call a vampire now.”

“That’s not… no. That’s not possible!” Royce exclaimed, trembling. The bottle he held in his hands spilled with every shake of his limbs, soaking his shirt. “You’re a ghost. The same one that’s been haunting me for months.”

“I know you wish that were true, Royce. Because maybe then I wouldn’t be able to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” he said as he cowered deeper into the corner of the room. “Why would you hurt me?” 

“Oh, Royce. I knew you weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but I didn’t think you’d be this cretinous,” she scoffed. “Do you really think I’m here just to say goodbye? Darling, I’m here to do so much worse. I’ve already started, actually.” 

“W-what do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sure you can feel the way your heart is racing, how your skin has gotten clammy, and how your brain is all delirious. That was a little gift from me,” she grinned devilishly, examining the perfection of her cuticles. “I know how you can’t resist a glass of whiskey no matter the time of day, and I knew you had a few scheduled shipments of bottles. So, with the help of a beautiful blue flower and absentminded delivery boys, I was able to slip some deadly nightshade into those bottles. Hence, the reaction from your body and your delusions.” 

“You poisoned me? How could you, Rosalie? I don’t deserve this.” 

  “Oh no, you don’t get to speak my name,” Rosalie spat. In a matter of a second, she had killed any distance between them  “My name is the only thing you will never have possession of. Not anymore. And to think you have the audacity to question what you deserve.”

“But I don’t, R… I don’t deserve this,” he cried as the girl balled his shirt in her hands. “I made one mistake.” 

“What you and your friends did was no mistake, Royce. It was a deliberate and brutal robbery of my innocence, of my life. It was a testament to your true character and the monster that lay beneath sheep’s clothing,” she seethed. “The worst part of it all is that I would have lived with your sins had you simply given me the life I had dreamed of. I would have let you drink until your belly was full of nothing but liquor and beer. I would have let you cheat as long as you came home to me. I would have let you take everything as long as I had my children to care for. And what a waste of a life that would have been.” 

Fat tears fell from the man’s eyes, connecting with the slobber of boogers that escaped his nose, and it disgusted Rosalie to be so close to him. But it was the dangerously fast pace of his heart that thrilled her. It was the perspiration on his skin that edged her on. It was the unnatural dilation of his pupils that made her want to dance in victory. 

She knew he was in pain. She knew that his body wanted nothing more than to reject the poison of the deadly nightshade, but it would never be able to. Not while she was there, witnessing the demise of the worst kind of monster. 

Royce pleaded under his breath, trying to appeal to the human side of Rosalie without understanding that the part he was begging to had died that night. The humanity left inside her dwindled as she stared at the pitiful man. She couldn’t imagine a world where she had ended up with him. At least, for that, she was grateful. 

“You‘ll never find love,” Royce suddenly spat, a sudden rage boiling inside him, giving him enough energy to yell at her. “Not as the abomination that you are.”

“And what is that, Royce?” She said through gritted teeth. “Because the person I thought I loved was you.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he barked.  “Don’t think I don’t know about your inclinations. I saw you with my own eyes.” 

“Whatever you think you might have seen will go with you in death. At least you’ll have that memory then to keep you company.” 

“The title of murderer is less vile than the other name. You’re lucky I took pity on you and showed you what you were missing out on.”

“Pity? You took pity on me?” Rosalie took hold of his shirt, lifting him from the ground as though he weighed no more than a dress. “You destroyed me. You defiled me. You took my life. Whatever it is that you think you may know about me did not give you the right to do any of that.”

“I saved you first from a lifetime of embarrassment,” Royce choked, his voice trembling as fear overtook him. “Your lifestyle would have gotten you killed regardless.”

“The only lifestyle that killed me was the one where I chose you,” she spat. “You did this to me, Royce. And now you have to pay.”

She let him drop to the ground to cower into the corner. One second, the man was back to crying and begging. The next, he was clutching at his chest and groaning in pain. “Please stop this,” he groaned. His heart had started running at a desperate pace, trying its best to pump blood to his body. But his arteries were contracting as the seconds passed, and his body would start shutting down soon after. “I know you can. Just please, I promise I’ll be better. Just give me a chance.”

“You had a chance, Royce. This life. This was your chance, and you wasted it. You decided to use your one chance to be a despicable man —driven by your greediness and your ego. You could have led a long and beautiful life,  but you weren’t satisfied. You wanted more and more until there was nothing left to take. Now, you won’t take anything from anyone else.” 

“Please,” he sobbed, but his words came out slurred as the poison kept rushing through his bloodstream. A rash had started peeking through his clothes, burning it way through his skin. He couldn’t choose between scratching at the patches or clutching at his chest, his entire body quickly starting to betray him. “I don’t wanna die.”

“Funny,” she laughed. “I didn’t either.”

Royce didn’t take long to deteriorate. His body was already weak from a diet of fear and whiskey—and the lethal amount of nightshade that she had injected in the bottles. He had gravitated onto his bed, barely hanging on to the little life that was left in him. His lungs wheezed and his skin reddened, his limbs spasmed and his lips trembled, and his eyes never left hers. 

And she stared back. 

“Soon enough, you will stop breathing,” she sighed. “I’m sure you can barely feel your arms and your legs. Just like I know you’re trying your hardest to take in a single breath. Isn’t it terrifying? To lay there and feel your life slipping through your fingers, all because someone else decided that you weren’t worthy of your own life.” 

“P… ple… please,” he managed to croak out. Tears stained his face, mixing with the sweat on his skin. “H-h-help… m-me.” 

“It’s too late, Royce,” she smiled deviously. “Don’t you get it by now? You are dying today. You will lay there and suffer and beg. And then, you will die. Not because it’s justice for what you did to me. But because no one else in this Earth will ever have to meet a monster like you. And I will stay and watch until you take your last breath.”

And so, he begged. Royce begged until the lack of oxygen forced his eyes shut. 

And Rosalie watched. She watched until he took his last, wheezing breath. 

Once she could not hear his heart beating anymore, she spared him one last close-up glance. She stood over him and looked over his corpse, wondering who it would be that would find his body. What would they think happened? The easiest explanation would be a heart attack, but the bodies in front of the vault would paint a different story. It wasn’t because she was worried she’d be caught –there was no way she ever would be– but rather because she wondered what plot would be spun to glorify Royce’s life and condemn his killer. And she was absolutely certain they would never believe a woman had been the one to kill him, let alone the other six men. 

“Rot in hell, Royce,” Rosalie whispered against his ear. “Say hi to your friends for me.” 

The girl thought she had merely spent an hour or two inside the bank, but as she slipped back into the alley, she noticed that the morning had come and gone, and the moon had started to peek its way out on the horizon. She quickly changed out of the wedding dress, ripping it from her skin as if it was suffocating her. Her lungs ached for a breath they didn’t need as something deep inside her snapped. It seemed that Esme had been right. Killing Royce didn’t make her feel better, but it had satiated her conscience. He could not hurt anyone else. 

Rosalie placed a hat on her head to conceal her face as she walked through the barely crowded streets of her home. Whispers on the street spoke of the demented killer that had taken the lives of four young men. Even if it had been a while since he had killed, everyone knew he was still out there. She had expected that much. The fear of the unknown was enough to rattle an entire town, and after Royce, it would be the only topic on everyone’s tongues for a long time. 

What she had not expected was to come face to face with a picture of herself. 

Taped to a lamp post was her last photograph taken with the words MISSING in bold on top of it. Under, a brief description of who she had been was printed, her family calling for any information regarding the whereabouts of their daughter. But that didn’t strike her as odd. She knew her family would be worried—had been worried for months. 

No. It was the small message posted under her family’s plea that made her stop in her tracks, a sudden wave of sadness numbing her limbs. She ran her pale fingers over the withered paper as though she could hear the voice if she touched the words. 

Please help bring our Rosie home, the message read. There are people here who love her more than sunflowers love the sun. 

There was no need for a signature for Rosalie to know exactly who’d had that message printed. She ripped the message from the page, folding it into the bag she had buried the wedding dress in, careful not to wrinkle the paper. 

Her heart wrenched inside her chest as she remembered the last time she had seen this person. The last time she ever would.

Only a week before her wedding, Vera had told her how much she wished Rosalie a long and happy life. As the blonde carried Henry in her arms, her friend placed a soft hand into hers, squeezing comfortingly as she smiled. 

“You deserve happiness, Rosie,” she had said that afternoon. “I just wish…”

“There’s no point in wishing,” Rosalie sighed, her eyes transfixed by the baby in her arms. She had been afraid to look Vera in the eyes —the beautiful gemstone eyes she had adored. “You have your family. And I’m on track to have mine. It is all we ever dreamed of.” 

“But it was supposed to look like this,” Vera had sighed. “Not quite like how it really is.” 

“We knew from the start that it would end this way, V. This is just the world we live in. At least this way, we can still be in each other’s lives.” 

“Even with all your high-class parties and important people to attend?” she had joked. “You really think you’ll have time for me.” 

“Always,” Rosalie had smiled. “Forever.”

“Really? You mean that?”

“Does a sunflower love the sun?”

Now, she had all the time in the world. So much time it could never run out. But there was not a second more she would be able to spend with Vera or with Henry. She’d never again brush away the little boy’s dark curls as they fell in front of his eyes. She’d never again hear Vera calling her name as she laughed. She’d never have everything she wanted —anyone she wanted. 

After what felt like a lifetime of staring at her own face, Rosalie straightened out her dress and made her way back to the Cullen residence as though nothing had happened. She cleared her mind of all thoughts about her best friend and walked inside, ready to shut herself in her room until it was time to feed. 

“You really did it, huh?” Edward taunted. “You really went through with it.”

“Please spare me the mocking tonight, Edward,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “My patience is wearing quite thin, and there’s no telling if I might snap. I have heard that us newborns have a tendency to be twitchy and rather strong.” 

“You’re such a…”

“That’s quite enough, Edward,” Esme interjected before he could go any further. “Leave your judgment inside your head.”

Edward muttered a complaint as he disappeared into the backyard, acting as a teenager reprimanded by their mother. Which, in a sense, he was. 

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Rosalie,” the woman smiled. “I hope that whatever happened today and all those months before brought you some type of solace. I know it will never be enough, but I hope it’s a start.”

“I hope so, too.”  

But she knew her heart would need much more mending than only a few deaths. 

That night, she had pulled out the message from her bag alongside a picture she had managed to take with her of Vera and her in their class banquet. They had worn beautiful gowns and were smiling from ear to ear as they danced together. It was a memory she would carry for the rest of her life. But, then, she had laid in the bed she did not need, pressing the picture and the message close to her chest, and closed her eyes to pretend she could dream she was back there.

Next ->

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[jeromeswife]

yandere namor x f!reader - one love, two mouths

Masterlist

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: A kingdom destroyed, a heart crushed, and a king full of immeasurable desire.

Warnings: descriptions of violence, kidnapping, mentions of stalking, death

Translations:

in pixamech - my angel

in amado - my beloved

I left my bedroom in the Wakanda palace. Shuri and Queen Romanda took me in after my home, the Alumid Kingdom was attacked in the middle of the night. I remember waking to the attacks and seeing a mysterious figure in the sky. It seemed that he was looking down at me, but I couldn’t see his face nor any distinguishing features in the darkness. Shuri let me know when she came that an attack came on the radar and when they came to investigate me, they found me passed out on the ground with a bracelet adorned with beautiful jewels around my wrist. I really had not many memories of that night besides the destruction of my kingdom and the deaths of my people around me. You see, I was the princess and future heir to the throne. It was something that shook me to my core, but I accepted my place and prepared daily for it, in case something were to happen to my father.

My bare feet walked along the hallways of the palace, stopping in at Shuri’s lab. She turned around and saw me, a smile painting her face, “(Y/N)! Did you sleep well?”

“Hmm.. I guess. Still not feeling great after seeing everything I loved lost to an attack.”

A sympathetic expression appeared on her face, seeing me down in the dumps mentally. The memories just couldn’t stop playing in my head. I still wondered what had occurred to make us targeted for such an attack. And I couldn’t ask my father because he died before I even could.

“I’m sorry (Y/N).. I understand that feeling of loss. The lost of my brother is something that still affects me, even after a year later. I miss him so much. I can still feel him all around me, yet I still blame myself for not being able to save him,” Shuri’s hand rubbed my back with comfort. “Don’t go down the path I did. Mourn your loss freely and build up a strong support system. You are welcome to stay here and recover till then.”

Her comforting words made me smile and I looked up at her, giving a soft smile. “Thank you for being there to rescue me.”

I inched my hand towards hers and held it. Shuri made me feel safe, like no one else could hurt me. I still can’t believe I’m still here, and alive today.

“(Y/N), if I may ask, did you see anything that night? Like who destroyed your kingdom?”

I thought back to that night. Since it was close to midnight, it was hard to tell. The only thing I could make out in the darkness was people with blue skin and a mask over their mouths. They speared my people. I couldn’t get the blood curdling screams out of my brain.

“Princess, run! Get out of here!”

The memories of their voices hurt my head. It was like a virus in my body that had no antibiotic. No way to get it out of there. It would be stuck inside there, slowly killing me.

“I only remember.. The blue people with masks over their mouths. They were speaking a language I couldn’t quite understand. And.. the figure in the sky. They looked human, but they couldn’t be. They were flying!”

I saw Shrui’s eyes widen at my words. Something she definitely knew but I had to ask. “Shuri? Do you know what I saw?”

Shuri hesitated. her words stuck in her throat. I didn’t know what was going on inside her head, but I was certain that it wasn’t anything good.

“I don’t know what you saw either..”

I knew she was lying, but I accepted her answer either way. If there was one thing I would never do, it was to force something out of someone. It would be too much..

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was later that night and I decided to leave my room once more, venturing down to a nearby beach on the shores of Wakanda. The only thing that could calm me down was the sound of the crashing waves and the chirps of the crickets that sang in the night.

Looking out at the sea reminded me of how free it was down there. No invasion. No destruction. Just pure peace and tranquility.

I couldn’t ignore that bracelet that adorned my wrist from the moment I awoke after the destruction. My fingers stroked over the jewels and the smooth gold. It was jewels I had never seen before from my kingdom. Rare green colors of emeralds and topaz. It amazed me that I even had it on my body in the first place.

My ears picked up some ripples from the water and I looked at it with curiosity. What emerged from the water was something I least expected. It was a man with brown skin, pointed ears, well trimmed facial hair, and angelic wings on his feet. I couldn’t tell if he was an angel or devil in my eyes.

I scooted back away from the water, my bottom brushing up against the cold sand. He had gotten close to me before placing both feet on the ground, “Up close to you finally, In pixamech “

His language didn’t translate much and my breath caught in my throat. The oxygen refused to come out because I had an odd feeling about him.

“And you are?”

My bracelet around my wrist seemed to grow much tighter as he got closer. A smirk appeared out of the corner of his mouth before he took a deep breath, “K’uk’ulkan, King of Talokan, but my enemies call me Namor. And you are Princess (Y/N) of Alumid.”

My heart sank to my stomach hearing him know who I was. That silhouette came to mind.. Everything about his physical outline matched the person who had looked down upon me as my kingdom was destroyed, left to ruins. It was him!

“..You.. Were you the one who brought destruction upon my kingdom!” The bracelet tightened around my wrist when my fury came out. The reaction came when I leapt towards him. But before I could, the sting of it stopped me.

I couldn’t help but look at Namor’s face. A dark chuckle was let out of his throat at the sight of me not being able to fight back nor take him down.

“And it was so easy to get you out of there.. If I had just came in there and taken you, my people would have been in danger, no? And it’s easier to capture you when you aren’t close to the earth elements, in amado.”

I struggled to even speak and I looked around, trying to find any way to fight him back. As much as I loved the sea, I couldn’t use its elements to defend me. I was useless the way I was now.

A few tears shed down my face as I fell onto my knees, hopeless, “Y-You’re a monster..” Before I knew it, I felt his knuckles wrap around my chin and pull my face towards his, him kneeling down as well.

“You call me a monster, but the real monsters are those you surround yourself with.”

Namor took out a mask and held it over my face while the bracelet began stinging and tightening me even more. Then it was dark.

[blaithnne]

Early concept sketches of Midnight Giant Lauren! You can see me figuring out the style, colours, as well as Lauren’s outfits, plus a little Hilda that I wanted to include but gave up on cause I couldn’t get her to look right.

Johanna switches outfits about 3 times in this comic, so I wanted Lauren to do the same. Also, since Johanna’s deerfox outfit in the flashback is based off one of her looks in mountain king, I wanted Lauren’s to as well! So one of these outfits will be repurposed for teenaged Show!Lauren in the deerfox later down the line, which I think is fitting because she’d be around the same age in the flashback as Comic!Lauren is here

I didn’t talk much about my design process in the original post, so I’ll make a couple notes on that under the cut!

Here’s the final product for reference-

Though Johanna changes outfits about 3 times in this comic, one of these outfit changes is just the same outfit but with trousers instead of a skirt. So I wanted one of Lauren’s outfit changes to be more subtle, keeping most of the same items of clothing but only changing the jumper!

In terms of her outfits, I tried to add a little bit of a late 2000s - early 2010s vibe, which I think makes her fit in a lot more

Whilst this style still features quite noodley characters, it allowed me to bulk up Lauren much more than the troll did, so I took advantage of that and started adding in juuuust a little muscle! But she’s still kind of twig looking, so I brought back the same trick I used in the troll and gave her a big ol’ pile of logs and a heavy axe to weild in one of the sketches just to show that she’s a strong girl. I swear I tried to think of something other than an axe but it’s surprisingly hard to think of heavy objects that a character would just be. Carrying around lol

Looking back at this design a few months later, the biggest thing I’d change is I’d make her look a bit younger. It’s a little hard to design a unique character when you only have two points of reference lol, one of which is an adult and the other of which is a child, so I think I made her look a bit too much like an adult, oh well!

One thing I kept though to help her look younger is her freckles, same as Hilda! I love freckles but I swear I never use them in character designs. This design feature disappears from Hilda in the later comics, but I wanna keep them for Lauren for as long as I can tbh…

I mentioned before that I thought it would make sense for Lauren to go through a couple different hairstyles before reaching her final one in these early comics - the designs in the show are based off the ones in stone forest, which was the most recent comic to be released at the time the show came out. The style and characters designs had changed a lot from the early comics, and one of my favourite things about reading through the series is seeing how the designs changed and progressed before reaching those “final” versions, so I’m kinda reverse engineering Lauren’s design process to get that effect here, and I think one way that’d be shown is through her hair. Here her style is getting closer to the final version, her fringe has been lifted so it no longer covers her eye, and she’s got more of a curl! But her strands fall a little differently, so we’re not quite there yet…

I struggled a LOT with colouring this one, and that’s because I got the colour count wrong! One of the most overlooked ways to emulate a style is to count how many different colours appear per character - Hilda The Series generally has 6, 2 for hair and skin, and 4 for outfits, though the number can change. I miscounted here and thought the comics had 4 outfit colours like the show, but they actually only have 3. Once I realised that it made things much easier, though I still sent a little over it with some varying shades of green in her shoes. These kinds of rules generally aren’t firm, and might not even be one’s the original artist is even aware of, but when you’re trying to emulate someone’s work these little things can make all the difference

Show!Lauren probably doesn’t play guitar, I’ve mentioned before that I think she’s decent at piano and I stand by that, but I thought it was fitting for Comic!Lauren lol

That’s everything I can think of right now!

[konigbabe]

little storm (part iii; set me ablaze)

final part

Author: @konigbabe

Pairing: Keegan Russ x (vague and not described) fem!OC

Word count: 3.8k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; explicit language; keegan calls OC 'kid'; canon compliant; pre-canon; smut; p-in-v sex; kissing; vaginal fingering; cunnilingus; slight dom!Keegan; soft(er) sex; female gendered anatomy; 3rd POV

Summary: Months pass after their latest meeting; yet here she stands, in his room, way past midnight...

A/N: It's been months since I last wrote any piece of creative writing so excuse the possible slight change in tone. I tried to keep it together as much as I could.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3

little storm: part i • part ii

A part of her is paralyzed, afraid to make a move; afraid that if she does, she'll break the spell, that he'll retreat back behind his walls and the moment will be lost.

Desire bursting through her veins like liquid fire, all she wants to do is tear off that damn mask – see his face, see the full expression as pleasure takes over him. Yet the mask stays on.

There is an air of impropriety in the way her fingers trace the fresh wounds adorning the delicate skin over her knuckles. A gentle tap echoes through the stillness of the night as she stands before the wooden door, uncertain of what awaits her on the other side. A part of her yearns for him to answer, while another is hesitant, wavering in indecision.

Time had slipped by like a thief in the night since she last saw him.

She’d never admit it but she misses the feel of his presence. The annoyed tone of his voice, the watchful eyes of his that never seemed to miss. They shared a part of their past. Not a significant one, neither one that’d change their lives; but it still made her heart warm to find out that she might be the first person outside his team that saved the Keegan Russ. At least these words were said to her multiple times to her by her colleague after they found out what happened.

The door swings open with ease, revealing a shadowy figure with a mask obscuring his features. Keegan stands still, broad shoulders blocking the view into his room.

Words pool in her mouth, caught by her teeth when attempted to spill. Biting the kindness away, she can’t help but chuckle.

“Damn…you really never take the mask off, huh?” she slips past Keegan’s frame, arm brushing against the hard surface of his chest as she uninvitedly enters the room, “even when you’re alone—“

Her eyes dart around the bedroom. The room is spotless, an oddity in this dim, sulky space. It's too quiet, even the sound of her own breathing feels like an intrusion. The full moon casts a grey hue on everything, making it feel like time has frozen in this room. It matches his demeanor perfectly, she thinks to herself.

“—you’re here.”

Keegan’s voice breaks the silence as he turns around to face her. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, scan her every move as she approaches his bed, noticing the sheets neatly arranged. Her usually confident steps falter in his presence. Usually very secure and confident enough to get by, something about being here, in Keegan’s room, feels intimate.

“What you want, kid?” he meets her steps in the middle of the room.

“I just realized I never got to thank you; for saving me,” her eyes follow him, taking in the way the black military shirt hugs his upper body, vaguely outlining the defined muscles underneath, “twice actually.”

“‘s that all?” he asks.

She looks up at him, trying to read his stoic expression. The sharp and penetrating gaze seem to bore into her very soul. She can't help but wonder what he's thinking, what he sees when he looks at her.

She takes another deep breath, steeling herself to ask the question that's been plaguing her mind since the day she heard. The cuts on her knuckles throb under the bright light, a stark reminder of the past few weeks.

"Why’d you get me into Ghosts?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes flicker to her knuckles, then back up to meet her gaze. There's a moment of hesitation before he speaks, and she can see the flicker of something in his eyes.

"You're good, kid," he finally answers, his voice measured and calm. "It’d be a waste of potential if you left."

She raises an eyebrow at his answer, surprised by its simplicity. "That all?" she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Keegan nods, and she can't help but feel a little disappointed. She’d expected something more profound, some hidden meaning behind his actions.

"And here I was," she says, trying to lighten the mood a little, "thinking that I grew on you." She offers him a small smile, hoping to ease the tension between them.

Above Keegan’s tall frame, the analog clock clicks as it strikes way past midnight, yanking her back to reality. The late hour dawns on her as she realizes they have a lot of work to do the next day.

“Well,” she transfers her weight from one leg to another, stopping herself from clapping, “I better get goin’. We have a lot of work tomorrow–or today, should I say.”

She makes her way towards the door, still slightly ajar.

For a moment, Keegan doesn't respond, his silence stretching on as she grips the door handle. But then he speaks, his voice low and gravelly. It makes her stop in her tracks, her back towards him.

“You’re reckless, impulsive, and a pain in my ass,” he remarks, making her pivot to face him, “but you’ve got potential, kid. And that’s something I don’t come across very often.”

His words jolt her, heat creeping across her cheeks. She’s not used to hearing praise from Keegan, especially not when it’s mixed with insults.

"So yeah," he continues, his tone softer now, "maybe you've grown on me a little bit."

She turns back to face him, a small mischievous smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Well, I’ll take that.”

As Keegan closes the distance between them, his long strides are quiet but purposeful. The floorboards creak softly beneath his weight, the sound echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room. His eyes are fixed on her, unblinking and intense, as he steps up before her.

She can feel his heat emanating from his body, warming her as he moves in closer.

"But don't let it go to your head," he murmurs, "I'll still kick you out if you mess up."

Her heart thuds against her ribs as she faces him, her eyes meeting his. There's something different in his gaze now, something that sends a thrill through her. It's as if he's seeing her for the first time, really seeing her, and she can't help but feel a little dizzy.

“But you’re not my captain,” she teases, her eyes flickering down to his torso. Her fingers twitch with a desire to touch him.

“I still outrank you,” he retorts.

“Oh, c’mon,” she exhales theatrically, “you’ve been a lieutenant for a couple of weeks.”

Silence descends on the room, thick and electric with tension. She breaks the stillness with a soft inquiry.

“How's your side?” she asks softly, reaching out to touch his hip.

“It's fine,” he replies. “I've had worse.”

It’s at this moment, her arm barely moving in order to touch his side, that she realizes just how close the man before her actually stands. It emits questions in her head – did he move closer on purpose? Or was it the same string that pulled her towards him all those months ago? That made her run through bullets to get him to safety…

Out of reality, as if she’s watching her own body move on its own, her hand reaches for his mask. Slow. Calculated and careful. As if she’s reaching to grab a piece of delicate glass, afraid it might shatter at any moment.

Her fingers brush against the rough surface of the mask, feeling the contours of it, tracing the edges.

Keegan feels her hand on his mask and for a moment, he hesitates.

Her heart races in her chest as she begins to lift it off his face. The pace tantalizing, she offers him an escape route. Enough time to pull away. To stop her.

Yet the man stands still. Frozen in his own body, he allows the woman to do as she pleases. Vulnerable as the moment might seem, she might not be aware of the fact that he carefully calculates his timing.

Only to grab her wrist when she uncovers his mouth. It’s enough; enough for him to trace her jawline, watch her eyes widen, the moon illuminating her features. Him casting a shadow over her form, trapped between his battle-worn body and the wooden door that seem to survive many airstrikes.

A part of her is paralyzed, afraid to make a move; afraid that if she does, she'll break the spell, that he'll retreat back behind his walls and the moment will be lost.

But then he moves, his hand coming up to cover hers, and it's as if a dam has burst inside her. She leans into him, her lips meeting his in a slow, steady kiss gradually increasing in hunger and neediness. She longs to feel his skin, his body. To touch his soul. To let him light that fire within her bones.

Breaking away, Keegan's eyes flutter open at a leisurely pace, fixated on hers. His expression exudes an aura of tranquillity and satisfaction as if he's at long last discovered what he's been yearning for.

He reaches up to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing her jawline as he leans in for another kiss. This one is slower, more exploratory as if he's trying to savor every moment of it. His movements are deliberate and controlled, like a man who knows what he wants and how to get it.

Keegan's hand slides from her cheek to the back of her head, tangling in her hair as he pulls her closer to him. For her, it's a kiss that tells her that she's not alone, that he's not just her lieutenant, but her ally, her partner, her friend, and maybe something more.

The day-old stubble scratches the delicate skin on her clavicles as his fingers unzip her jacket, undoing the single button at the top of her shirt to reveal more of her softness. Her content moans only fuel the hunger bubbling deep within Keegan’s insides. Hands grasping her hips, she feels like she’s flying as he picks her up.

Her legs cling to his lean frame, like vines entwining a sturdy tree. Gazing into his topaz-blue eyes, illuminated by the moonlight peeking over his shoulder. She only catches a glimpse of his rugged features before he claims her lips once more. The taste of him, the roughness of his stubble, all enveloping her senses.

Keegan’s walls are slowly crumbling down around her as she grasps the back of his neck. Partially covered in his mask, her fingers slip beneath the scratchy material, nails scratching against his scalp. A content hum assures her of her actions.

He lowers her body down onto the bed, his touch like a feather as he pins her war-ravaged body underneath him. She hears the distorted creak of the mattress as their weight meets in unison. Keegan's name slips from her lips in a breathy sigh, as she feels his warm hand glide underneath her shirt, flattening against her tummy. With his body inching closer to her belt, he halts and pauses, hovering just above her skin. A single question hangs in the air between them.

Locking eyes with her, he softly whispers, "Are you sure?"

Without a word, she nods in response, her hand gripping his shoulder tightly as she surrenders to his touch and allows him to undress her. It doesn’t take long until she’s half-naked underneath the masked man; content with his wandering eyes, roaming hands. Lips tracing the contours of her legs – ankles, knees; then indeed thighs, hips.

Keegan takes his time. Hands gripping under her knees, heels digging into his shoulder blades, she feels his lips trace the apex of her thighs. So close to where she wants him the most, a desperate groan makes its way out of her throat. Shamelessly bucking her hips into his mouth, she momentarily swears to hear Keegan chuckle.

Looking down, the man’s eyes are already looking at her face and she can swear that he’s smirking; unable to see the lower, exposed part of his face. Keegan doesn’t waste much time after she lets out another desperate plea, swiftly and with expertise taking off the last barrier between him and her innermost parts, she lays completely vulnerable before him.

The moment his lips brush against her core, his touch sends a current of electricity throughout her body and she feels herself falling into the abyss. Too much time had elapsed since someone had caressed her with such sensuality, and Keegan's deliberate movements brought her back to life.

Bursting with hidden energy, her sounds grow louder the more his tongue delves inside her. Tasting her. Lapping at her like a man dying of thirst; she completely overtakes his mind as he watches the woman before his eyes twist in pleasure. Rapture coursing through her veins like molten magma, all she wants to do is tear off that damn mask – see his face, see the full expression as pleasure takes over him.

Yet the mask stays on.

She feels like she’s been thrown into boiling water; drowning in the feeling of Keegan’s tongue, fingers curling deep inside her. His hands heating the skin of her chest, feeling her hardened nipples underneath the remaining pieces of clothes none of them bothered to discard.

The symphony of her cries when she finally reaches her peak is music to Keegan’s ears, fueling his ardor as he savors everything of hers with unmatched hunger. Unwavering in his passion, if anything, it only grows more fervent as he loses himself in the intoxicating taste.

Something snaps.

Inside Keegan; something breaks.

The cage holding his inner, primal side of his; it escapes.

Keegan's fingers are like a vice around her thighs, an unexpected surprise that has her muscles tense momentarily. His grip only grows tighter as he easily flips her onto her stomach. Her skin aches from the sudden change of position and she feels his lips lightly brush against the back of her thighs. A gasp spills from her throat as Keegan's teeth dig into her plump flesh, a fire of sensations burning in its wake.

Shameful; that’s how she believes that she should feel.

Shameless; that’s how she truly feels.

She can feel his tongue trace the globe of her ass, moving upwards until he reaches her lower back. Blatantly digging her knees into the mattress, her body moves into override. All sense of rational thought fades away as her instincts kick in, driving her movements to a cardinal level. Her body moves with a life of its own, responding to the sensations coursing through her veins.

The desire coursing through her makes even Keegan’s smallest acts seem as if her whole existence depended on him. The way his voice rasps when he whispers into her ear; feeling his hand knead the skin of her ass.

“You never told me your name,” his teeth mark her shoulder.

That’s when she feels the side of his face brush against hers, a sudden rush of realization washes over her — he’d taken off the mask.

She answers with a name as sweet and gentle as the lilac flowers she'd pick on summer days, as beautiful as the melody of her father's song that used to echo through the kitchen walls, yet still as false as the family she was born into.

His hand clutches the back of her neck, pinning her in place and trapping her in the moment of wild passion, caging in any curiosity or doubt. She unsuccessfully tries to twist around and see him, but instead finds herself pressing further into the lone pillow adorning his bed.

When his fingers scorch her oversensitive folds, each stroke seeking out pleasure spots within; it makes her forget it all. Her hands fist the bed linen, almost tearing it from the mattress.

“Fuck me already,” her impatience grows as he toys with her more. Unbothered by her writhing body. By the way she desperately tries to back into him; to feel him inside. The fabric of his shirt still brushing against her bare back as Keegan stills, hearing her raring demand.

“Manners,” he challenges. He tortures her with his fingers; two of them completely buried, it's enough to bring her back when she would have felt right at home sinking into an infinite loop of pleasure, "I'll keep going until you ask nicely."

“Keegan,” his name tumbles from her lips now more as a plea than as a word, “please," she surrenders willingly, craving for more.

It’s then that she can hear the buckle of his own belt. Feeling its part slide over her bare ass as Keegan works his pants down; not fully, just enough to free his aching cock. It doesn’t really matter to him at this moment, whether he’s fully naked or not. He only wants one thing; and that one thing is laying beneath him. Bare. Vulnerable. Willing and oh so desperate for him.

Fisting his own cock, he can feel his heart pumping; hard fast thuds against his ribcage. All while his other hand grips the pillow right next to her head. A guttural moan escapes his lips as her legs move wider, inviting him in.

His name a sonnet, a mixture of moans and mewls fills the darkened room. The spongy head of his cock teases her entrance, collecting her wetness. Occasionally dipping inside just enough to feel her opening up to him.

He wants to hear her beg once more.

Determined to do it; “Fuck,” is all he’s capable of saying when her walls enclose his tip before he withdraws again. Teeth grazing the same spot on her shoulder, sure to leave a mark after he’s done with her, he continues to repeat the action – just the tip; in and out, drawing sweet cries out of her.

His name becomes a safe haven when mixed with her moans; her writhing body, ass pushed against his hips, thighs enclosing around his.

Gripping the metal headboard, her words fuel his starvation. Tongue tracing the slight teeth marks on her soft flesh, hand flicking over her aching nub, its the simple, sweet little word, the plea, that does it for him–

–”please”.

His pace is slow; teasing. Tempted to thrust all the way as for his it’s been way too long since he felt the exquisite squeeze around his cock, he continues the leisurely tempo. His fingers, circling around her clit, follow the rhythm.

It’s calculated; as everything Keegan does. Steady, quick thrust in. Punishingly slow thrust out. His desire to savor her, to savor the feeling overtaking her very own primal needs. Yet, she’s content. Chest pushed into the hard mattress, the feeling of springs pushing back against her; hand grasping the headboard, feeling its cold surface against her heated skin.

Keegan's rough breath tickles the skin on her neck as his face nuzzles against it, his lips occasionally brushing against her flesh. Her fingers delve into his hair, surprised by its length and texture. Soft and fluffy, with curls that she can feel around his temples. But even with her grip on his hair, she still can't quite see him – he remains a mystery to her.

Even now, deep within her walls, feeling the head of his cock kiss her cervix, Keegan Russ still remains as puzzling as the depths of the sea, unfathomable and enigmatic.

Her hand grips the back of his neck, pushing him forward; lips connecting in a crushing kiss, she can feel the muscles in her neck strain as she desperately sucks on his lower lip. Pulling away with a groan, his hands grip her waist; a single tug forces her lower body to move back on her knees. Breasts firmly pressed into the mattress, arms stretched forward, his name escapes her lips as his thrusts grow impatient. Hard and relentless, hands grasping the skin on her lower body, anywhere he can reach and squeeze.

The pillow muffles her cries of passion for only a moment; until Keegan moans out her name, hand sneaking around her clavicles, to grip the side of her neck just enough to bring her up to him. Back to his chest, the fabric of his shirt scratching her exposed skin, his breath fanning over her ear.

Eyes closed, lost in pleasure and pain, she thrusts backwards, meeting Keegan halfway. Hands gripping his forearm, she can feel the tension building.

Her vision is filled with shimmering pinpricks of light, as though her entire being were consumed by a starry night. Keegan's body moulds to hers, holding her tight in his firm embrace as she reaches the peak of ecstasy. His voice rasps out her name like a prayer, and he clings desperately to her neck, burying his face against her skin.

Breathing heavily, he clings to her as if his life depends on it. His fingers dig into her back, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. She can feel the heat radiating off his body, and his ragged breaths tickle her skin. He's holding her so tightly that it's almost painful; she swears can sense the fear and desperation in his touch. Despite the intensity of the moment, she can't help but feel a sense of comfort in his embrace, knowing that he needs her just as much as she needs him.

It’s not long after that he stirs before getting up, watching as she lets her spent body fall onto his very own bed, face towards his window; she watches as the moon shines over the top of the nearby building while listening to the rustling next to her before a towel lands next to her head.

Turning to face him, a sense of disappointment washes over her as she sees Keegan with his mask back on. Fully dressed, in stark contrast to her completely naked body laying on his bed, illuminated by the night sky. A picture he surely will remember for a long time.

She stares at him, intensely analyzing his stoic expression while her body still pulsates with his own cum leaking out of her cunt.

“You good?” she breathes, breaking the silence between them.

He hesitates before answering. "Yeah, I'm fine, kid. Just...trying to process everything."

A slight grin pulls at the corner of her lips.

“You shouldn’t call me kid now, Keegan,” getting up, she walks towards him, still completely naked, feeling the cold breeze wash over her glistening skin, “makes you look like a paedophile.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh softly, “you’re right.”

“Think I can use your shower,” she asks, “I’m quite sticky if you get me.”

Arms crossed, he nods towards the door next to his bed. She can feel the tension emanating from him and decides to break the silence, "y’know, for someone who just had sex with me, you're awfully distant."

“It’s not like that,” he huffs as she makes her way towards the bathroom door.

"Ah, I see. So, I guess that means no cuddling?" she says playfully, hoping to lighten the mood.

She can see his eyes quint beneath the mask; a small smile surely to decorate his face. But even now, she can still see the walls he's built around himself. "I don't cuddle.”

She shrugs it off, "Suit yourself," and enters the bathroom, leaving him alone in the room. The sound of the shower soon engulfs the space. Keegan stands there for a moment, lost in thought, before finally making his way towards the door. He takes one last glance at the bathroom door, his mind racing with conflicting emotions, before turning to leave.

[tornado1992]

WHOLESOME SONIC AND TAILS WEDNESDAY - FRONTIERS DLC BAD ENDING EDITION - EEEH I CAN'T WRITE FLUFF TO SAVE MY LIFE BUT DAMN I MISS WHOLESOME SONIC AND TAILS WEDNESDAY SOOOO HERE'S MY TRY TO CONTRIBUTE

Star gazing

"Tails, buddy please, look at the stars... look at them, they're shinning" - and yet he didn't dare to rise his gaze himself, blurry emerald eyes looking for another kind of shine in a blue much lighter than the sky's, one that he knew wouldn't exist anymore. All because of him.

"Mmmm... W-where... Everything's reawy dark..." - the tears wouldn't stop falling as he tried to look up, fighting the tremors and coldness that were running trough his body, as unlikely as it was to feel such things in his current semi physical state, not being entirely there as his mouth could no longer taste the blood that was comming from inside him earlier, that was a bad sign, it was way more preocupying than not smelling the grass and flowers that he knew surrounded him, and now he couldn't even feel the heat of his own tears, but as he tried to lift his hand to hold onto the blurry blue form that he could swear was above him a sonic second before the world fell to darkness, he knew that he couldn't. And yet, he felt all the pain while not feeling his brothers arms around him. It wasn't fair.

It made sense given the thought, of all of them, he was the youngest, the tiniest, of course even a small portion of the cybercorruption Sonic was going through would affect him the most, but he gladly faced the challenge as he knew they we're counting on him; they were getting out, he'd make sure of it, even if it meant to absorb all the cybercorruption himself, he already knew pain, this was just a different kind, one that his only family was willing to take to protect them, to protect him, and he will not let him feel it again, he will not let them feel it at all.

He wanted Amy to keep smiling even as tears would paint her face, Knuckles to laugh as he would scold him for being reckless, and Sonic... Where's Sonic?

"S-Sonic, where are you?!" - the kit knew he was talking, even as no sound got to his ears, not even his voice staying to acompany him in his last moments. Or maybe it was there, but just as Sonic, he couldn't reach it.

He didn't wanted fear and pain to be the last thing he felt, it was the first thing he remembers ever feeling. So, as he gets no answer, he tries to do as his brother told him and look at the stars, and as he can no longer archieve that, he imagines them.

The stars always had a soothing effect on him, managing to calm his worst fears as his brother held him close after a nightmare when they were just the two of them, amaze him as he taught him all the stories behind those shinning figures in the sky that could only be seen as the sun went to sleep, and leave him in awe everytime the person he loved the most became one undefeatable, bright, yellow star.

He really loved stargazing since he was a kid, a much smaller, tinnier kid. Small enough that the thought of becoming a star felt possible even with a genious mind such as his, his brother once told him he could become one too, so he believed him. Even when the light pollution was enough to not let him see any constelations, he knew the stars were still there, just as he knew his brother was hugging him everytime he closed his eyes as he prepared to rest. Just as this time.

As the small body of the kid fell limp in the speedsters arms, one last tear fell from the once shinning baby blue eyes, it was cold.

Crying and hysterical laughing could be heard from beside them, neither with a hint of joy, happines or relief behind it, sorrow and rage taking those places.

Even as the midnight sky kept glowing, emerald eyes lost their birightnes, as the stars were no longer shinning. They would never shine again.

[restlessmaknae]

heart says yes [serim]

''i didn't know where else to go'' + "let’s get you cleaned up'' with bad boy!Serim

➳ Characters: implied bad boy!Serim x female!reader/you

➳ Genre: slice of life, angst

➳ Words: 1.7k

➳ Warning: mentions of bruises, blood, treating wounds

➳ A/N: This story was requested by @tsunchani for my request event, so I hope you enjoy it! ❤️Since you haven't specified the hurt comfort prompts, I've chosen the two mentioned above. Plus, I think this story fits the bad boy!au better than a mafia!au that you've specifically requested, but you can still see it as a mafia fic if you wish since there are no specifications said about Serim's identity.

You can still request stories for the event: you can find the guidelines here and the masterlist here.

➳ CRAVITY taglist: @tsunchani, @dat-town

Serim was like a shadow around the corner shop you worked; he was usually invisible, but you could feel him lingering there. You welcomed him coming in time and time again, but he was always pretty quiet, so you didn’t try striking up a conversation with him. You didn’t even assume that he could have it in him to stand up for you against some thugs who had come in for alcohol, but he did so, and something akin to fear lingered in the air when the men noticed who had spoken up.

That was the day you got to know his name. You wanted to thank him somehow, so you said that his purchase was on you, but he insisted that it wasn’t necessary. Somewhere along the way though, you introduced yourself, and he did the same, but he did it so carefully as if he was afraid of letting you know who he was that you didn’t push him for more questions.

The subtle signs were always there - him wearing all black clothes all the time, the loose ones that allowed him to get away from the curious eyes because he got lost in the darkness of his garments; his fingers dressed in calluses, a hint that he was working with his hands a lot; him always paying by cash and coming here late enough at night to not bump into anyone but you most of the time; and being as reserved as one could be -, but you didn’t pay attention to them. To be precise, you didn’t want to. This might not have been the safest neighbourhood, but he looked as harmless as one could be with his unruly midnight black locks frequently getting into his deep, dark eyes, his words gentle and soft-spoken when he exchanged a few meaningless words with you at the counter, and his subtle acts like leaving the change behind for you or leaving a bottle of ginger tea on the counter when he noticed that you were quite raspy due to a cold.

He was always there, swimming around the edges of your pond - a constant presence, though not yet a permanent visitor -, and you gazed at him from afar because you were similarly afraid to get too close. You were afraid that if you did so, you would get drowned, the waves crashing down on you, and keeping you down, down until you heaved your last breath. Though the bottom was as alluring as it could be…

Then, one night, a motorbike parked on the pavement before the store, and everything changed. It was after closing hours, and you already put the ‘closed’ sign on the door. You just started counting the remaining cash to let the colleague in the morning shift know how much was the starting amount when you heard shuffling from the staff room. Nobody else was supposed to be there, except you, so you held your phone in your hand, your fingers hovering over the quick emergency call button as you made your way to the back of the store. You remembered closing the back door of the staff room that led to the outside area after you had taken out the trash, so your boss or a colleague might have come in with a key or someone had broken in from behind.

With shaky breaths, you turned the doorknob and flung the door open, your fingers itching to push the emergency call button before you recognised the figure crouching by the supply shelf.

“Serim!” You breathed out, both relieved and concerned, as you pushed your phone into the pocket of your jeans. The boy looked up when you called his name, and the fresh burgundy bruises painting the pale canvas of his skin made your heart churn. His words even more so.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted, his voice coming out hoarse. Your brain might have told you to stay away from him, especially when he showed up unannounced at your workplace after probably being beaten up, but your heart was in control, and it didn’t let you send him away. Instead, you found yourself saying:

“It’s okay,” you tried with a reassuring nod, but you weren’t sure whether you were trying to ease his nerves or yours. Yet, despite your heart hammering away rapidly, you crouched down to be at eye-level with him, and pushed a few stray locks out of his eyes, revealing even more dark patches underneath. After examining his bruises, your eyes found his orbs already boring into yours, and for a moment, you felt yourself falter, falling into that sea of oblivion. It would have been so easy to not object, to give in to that tension that sparkled between you two, but you couldn’t sway. At least, that was what your brain told you. Your heart was telling a completely different story.

You cleared your throat, detaching yourself from the mystery that his eyes were, and announced:

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up!”

Even if the boy wanted to disagree, you were quick to search for the first-aid kit that you kept in a locker among other supplies that you or your colleagues might need for work. Sometimes you might cut your fingers or crash into a shelf, so the first-aid kit was always much appreciated, and it was usually fully packed, much to your relief.

You shuffled back to the boy with the first-aid kit in your hand, and you were surprised to find him standing as opposed to his previous crouching position. Upon seeing it, you hesitated a bit, but then the boy with the most beautiful midnight-black eyes broke the silence:

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, resigned, his words coming out like a goodbye, a choice, a crossroad. Something in you told you that he genuinely didn’t expect you to help, he just didn’t know where else to go, but it hurt for you to hear it from him - like he had already given up on you and on himself.

“But I want to, so I will!” You announced, a bit more indignant than you would have expected from yourself, and in the surprised glint of his eyes, you could tell that he was just as perplexed by your confident response as you were. Maybe that’s why he didn’t object when you asked him to sit on the nearby chair, so that you would have a better access to his bruises.

You tried hard not to concentrate on the way his eyes were constantly following your moves as if he was still doubtful that you would go along with it, but you diligently cleaned his bruises as best as you could. You had never had to tend to bruises like these ones before, and you were sure that Serim would comment on your lack of experience, but he stayed quiet. He only grumbled when you started putting antiseptic on his wounds.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quick,” you promised, and he nodded. The bruise around his lips seemed like the most painful one, no wonder he made an inaudible sound when you put the cream on it. Simultaneously, the boy grabbed your left arm - that you left hanging by your side - to hold onto it while you were working on him, and his grip was so desperate that you felt your stomach drop.

Serim had always seemed so strong, so powerful, someone who wouldn’t need the assistance of anyone, let alone yours, but now he was holding onto you like his last piece of hope, and you had no idea whether that should comfort you or torn you apart even more. You didn’t even know whether you should pay attention to the crazy beating of your heart or the way your stomach was twisting and turning with both fear and anticipation.

“It’s done,” you said when you finished with the antiseptic, and as he looked up from his eyelashes, his fingers still holding onto your wrists firmly, his lips bruised, his face covered in a palette of purple, red and blueish colours, you had the urge to hug him, to tell him that it would be okay, to caress his wounded cheeks. Did you have the right though? Would he let you?

“Thank you, really.”

“It’s okay. You’ve saved me from those thugs sometime ago, we can say that we’re even now,” you croaked out, hoping to put together a coherent sentence when all you could think about was the gentle darkness of his eyes, the way a miniature version of you reflected back in them as if it was so natural and the abyss of him that you wouldn’t mind getting lost in.

His lips twitched and you didn’t know whether it was because of the pain or your words, and he didn’t say so. You merely gazed at each other, the moment stretching long and heralding something more, something different, something vulnerable between you two. The urges in you grew stronger, and before you could realise what you were doing, you were already reaching for his other hand that wasn’t holding yours, and gave it a light squeeze.

Serim looked surprised for a few seconds, but then he looked at your hands in a different way - he seemed thankful, touched even -, and when he spoke up, gentle and soft and warm like a blanket on a cold night, you breathed in his words, letting them fill your lungs and heart.

“Can we… can we stay like this for a few more seconds?”

Anytime, you wanted to say, but the words died on the tip of your tongue, so you merely nodded, and let him hold onto you just like you were holding onto him.

Maybe, just maybe, no matter what your brain was trying to tell you, your heart would still go for him, fight for him, care for him, and if you had to choose between the two in that moment, you would follow your heart.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for CRAVITY or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️