#as awful as it sounds i’m like. well some of y’all better be for real abt this

[topflights]

the mjf wants to leave aew storyline is the only fun one and im right

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

Fighting Strength

Okok, this was a request from an anon reader, who wanted a female reader with arthur who’s taller and stronger, you better believe this is gonna be a lil NSFW Y’all 

It’s gonna be goodddd

Or at least, I hope it’s good, let me know what you think! 

I apologize things are taking so long y’all I promise I’m still real! 

Warnings: NSFW, manhandling, female reader i think thats pretty much it so minors DNI 

Tags: @photo1030 @kieropal @mrsarthurmorgan7 @6kaja9 @pcotarelo @cantchoosejust1​ 

Lets go people

Arthur sincerely hoped that you wouldn’t notice him staring at you.

You were something, that was for sure.

You were, for a lack of better words, huge.

Taller than him by a few inches, which made you at least 6′ 4″ and you seemed to be stronger than him too.

Granted that didn’t mean that he wasn’t strong, he knew that, but you? 

It almost seemed like you were throwing your weight around on purpose, just to prove you were stronger.

Every time he looked you seemed to be carrying two hay bales, or three bags of feed.

Somehow you managed to be so large and strong, yet elegant and beautiful all at the same time and something about it made his pants a little tighter than they had been previously.

He found himself staring at you more often than not, and he hated it. 

He felt awful, he didn’t want you to feel as though you were some kind of freak, or that you were out of place, or hell that he didn’t like you, it was the exact opposite of that.

He just had no way of approaching you. 

I mean, what would he do? 

His confidence was real, yes, but you? You were enough to put fear in his eyes.

Little did he know that you felt the same kind of...lust for him as he felt for you.

He was a strong man, and even though you were stronger than him, that turned you on. Not only that but he was a handsome man, a handsome man with a good head on his shoulders. It wasn’t just his looks that drove you to him.

The showing off around camp was part of your plan to attempt to get him to talk to you.

It didn’t seem to be working though, and at this point you were starting to believe that he just didn’t have any interest in you.

You placed down the last bale of hay that you’d been carrying and sigh before heading towards the fire, waving simple hellos to people who nodded towards you.

The fire was warm and welcoming, and after doing all your chores the warmth was comforting, a warm bath would have been nicer, but it was better than having nothing.

You sigh and quietly place your hand on your cheek, watching the fire crackle, listening to the others around you.

“Hey, uh...Miss L/N?” 

You turn your head to look up at Arthur, feeling as though he could read your mind sometimes. He often had a habit of showing up around you after you’d spent time thinking about him.

You offer him a smile closing your eyes as you look up at him.

“Hi Arthur, whaddya need?” 

“Oh...I...I guess I don’t really need nothin’, I jus’....I was wonderin’ if maybe you’d take a walk with me?” 

“Of course, you sound serious, did I do something?” 

“No, no, nothin’ like that, I jus’ wanna talk to ya, thats all.” 

You smile and nod before standing, and watch as Arthur’s eyes follow your face.

You were taller than him, of course only by a few inches, but sometimes it was still so funny to you when you stood right next to him.

He was such a large man, and an intimidating one too, seeing him look at you with almost these kind of puppy dog eyes was always just so....funny to you.

He gestures towards the entrance of camp, and begins to walk that way, you matched his stride evenly and kept by his side.

As the two of you got a little further away from camp you listen as Arthur takes a deep sigh, and you look at him, furrowing your brow.

“Are you alright?” 

“Course I am, I’m always alright, I just...I’m thinkin’ I wanna ask ya somethin’, but I jus’...I really don’t know how to go about it.” 

“Well, I...what is it Arthur? You know I’m not gonna judge you.” You chuckle quietly and place your hand on his shoulder. 

“I know, I know, but...well this it’s...this is different.” 

You swallow, a sudden feeling beginning to bubble up in your stomach, warm and fuzzy almost.

Was he finally going to say something?

You give a little gasp and then grab both his shoulders, twisting him to face you.

Without thinking you pull him to you and crash your lips to his, catching him off guard, but after only a moment his lips match yours, and his hands slowly find themselves on your waist. 

You break from him and realize what you’ve done, a heat covering your face.

“I....I’m sorry Arthur, I didn’t- I wasn’t thinking-” 

“No, no I-” 

“I shouldn’t have done that-”

“I liked it-” 

“You didn’t even get to say what you wanted to say-” 

“I was gonna tell ya I’m sweet on ya!” Arthur spits out. You blink, looking at him, unsure as to if he was kidding around with you or not. 

“Arthur...I you....” You swallow trying to figure out how to say what you wanted to without sounding slightly creepy. 

“I wanted to do that,” He swallows and looks up at you, a small bit of red haze coming over his face. “I just didn’t know how to go about it. I ain’t ever been...I’ve never been so attracted to someone...so much....you’re so much stronger than I am, taller than me...it’s...it’s kinda strange, I....somethin' about you bein' so strong yourself, you don't need me, you don't need to have me around to do things for you....somethin' about that is just....amazin'."

He stops a moment and breathes.

"I've been thinkin' and thinkin', tryin' to ignore all this, but its just gotten to a point I just....I had to say somethin', and...that was one hell of a kiss."

“Just because I’m taller and...stronger doesn’t mean I think any less of you, in fact, your strength is one of the things that makes me attracted to you.” You mumble. “It’s like torture watching you carry in deer from hunting.”

“Are you kiddin’ me, what the hell do you think it is for me, you walkin’ around camp, throwin’ hay bales like it ain’t nothin’!” He swings a lazy arm back towards camp. “I usually like to be in charge, but damnit, watchin’ you do that...” He seems embarrassed for a moment and looks to his feet. 

“It makes me wish you’d throw me around like that.” 

The words come out in nearly a whisper. 

You blink again, confused, and then feel a heat flood through your body.

“Arthur...I...you...are you saying that you want....you want me to be...you...” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you stare at each other for a moment before the two of you grab each other’s faces, crashing your lips against one another’s for a second time.

Arthur’s hands trail over you, your sides, starting at your hips, making their way upwards, a touch so desperate that you begin to wonder just how long he’s felt this way. 

He pulls away from you, only a few moments later, looking up at you while his breathing tries to steady itself.

“Y/N...I...you wanna take this to a hotel?” 

You think about it for a a moment, only a moment, but your response comes out quicker than you realize.

The ride to the hotel was nearly torture for the two of you, stealing glances at one another as you rode next to each other.

“Yes.”

You could practically see the bulge in Arthur’s pants there, the thought of you doing what you wanted to do to him.

Getting into the hotel Arthur nearly tossed the money at the owner and headed up the stairs with you following as quickly as he could manage.

As soon as that door closed, you let your desires take over, and it appeared he did to.

Arthur was not a submissive man.

Not at all.

In fact he was the opposite, but with you?

It appeared at least this once, maybe a few more times in the future, he wanted you to be in charge.

Your hands were on him without much thought, it was almost instinctual, like breathing.

You kiss him deeply, and of course he returns it, for a second the two of you fight against one another, who would lead, who would follow. 

Arthur stops fighting for leadership, for dominance when you place your hand against his throat, which forces a near whimper out of his body, that’s muffled by your lips.

He tries to get your shirt off, and being kind, you allow him to take it off, but as soon as he’s managed to get it removed you shove him onto the foot of the bed, watching as he looks up at you from where he’s now sitting. 

His chest is red, you can see the color peeking out from the few unbuttoned parts of his collar. His face too, along with his ears. 

He’s panting, waiting for you to do something.

You step closer, and sneak your foot against his, kicking his legs apart.

He simply swallows and watches, letting you do as you please.

You lean over him, and kiss his neck, moving your hand towards the growing tent that’s made itself present.

Gently palming him causes him to grunt in your ear, a sound that sends even more heat to the center of you.

It’s low, and nearly primal.

You kiss his jaw, right next to his ear, listening as he mumbles something under his breath, feeling and watching as he starts to squirm under your touch, his hips slightly bucking into your hand and his heart beating faster than it should be.

“Darlin’...please...” His voice is a whine now, hoping that maybe it will push you give him the help he needs. He leans his head back a little as you kiss further. 

“Aw...Arthur, are you getting impatient?” 

“Stop teasin’ me...please Darlin’ I jus’...please, I wanna....Darlin’-” 

“Alright....I’ll help you Arthur, but first-” 

You grab his hand, and lead it towards your own jeans, and manage to stick it under your waistband, smiling to yourself as Arthur does take the lead, at least for this. 

His finger dips into you, and you let a sigh escape, he seems to know what to do, despite you not saying a word.

It’s as if he can read your body better than you.

It’s only a moment or two of this that you can handle before you yourself feel impatient.

You unbuckle his belt, and just as quickly unzip and unbutton his jeans, pulling his pants down just far enough to let his dick out.

“Scoot Arthur, further up the bed.” 

He does what he’s told, quickly, easily, without hesitation. 

You pull your pants off as quickly as you can, watching as Arthur tries to discreetly lick his fingers clean.

You move over him, straddling his hips, and settling yourself down on his cock, watching as his face contorts, and he tilts his head back against the mattress.

“Jesus Sweetheart....” 

You chuckle slightly, and wait for a moment, allowing yourself to stretch.

He was bigger than you expected, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

“How long has it been Arthur?” 

“Jesus...I don’t know...” He mumbles, keeping his eyes closed. “Jus’...look right now all I know is I want you to do whatever you wanna do to me...I don’t care how loud I am, how loud you are, I don’t care how rough you are, jus’...fuck....” 

He swallows and his hands find your thighs, keeping purchase there.

“I want...fuck darlin’ jus’...I told you, throw me around, take charge, jus’ this once.” 

You raise your eyebrows as you look at him.

Such a large man, a dominating man in his everyday life, yet here he was, nearly begging you.

You let a smile come over your face and gently rock your hips, Arthur’s hands sticking to your thighs like glue.

Up, back, down, forwards, guiding you the way he needs, and surprisingly the way you need.

His head leans against the bed behind him and he lets another long low groan flee from his lips.

It's one of relief, finally feeling you around him, like he's wanted to for so long.

You gently bring your hand to his throat again, and give a squeeze, which brings a grunt forth.

He looks at you almost defiantly, yet you can see that he's enjoying it, that look is only covering for the one underneath it.

His hips buck up hard into you as he stares into your eyes, and a smirk comes over his face as he watches yours contort.

“I’m supposed to be in charge here.” You murmur. “Not you.” 

“Then do somethin’ about it Princess.” 

“Do it again and I’ll have to restrain you...” 

He clenches his jaw, and again, thrusts upwards, keeping eye contact the whole time.

You grab his hands, prying them off your thighs, and bringing them above his head, you grab his wrists with one hand, and stare him in the face.

“Now you don’t get to touch.”

He simply flares his nostrils at you, and you again start to rock your hips against him, and after a moment you realize that he knows he’s made a mistake.

You can feel his arms tense, and he scrunches his nose up as you continue.

“I’m sorry-” He gets the words out before a small groan escapes him. “I wanna touch-” 

“You should have thought about that before you did that.” 

“Princess-” 

You cut him off with a kiss, and then lean against his chest, before you begin to move your hips faster, listening as he nearly whimpers against your lips. 

His hips move against yours, involuntarily this time, instinctually, in an effort to get what he needed. 

He fights against your hands, yet he can’t break from your grip, and as much as he’s fighting against it you know he likes it. 

The sound of his grunts against your lips is enough to tell. 

After a moment, you stop, an idea coming to your mind. 

You pull away from Arthur and offer a smirk to him. 

“I’ll let you touch me Arthur, but because I need you to tap me twice, if you need to breathe.” 

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” 

You let go of his hands and they go straight to your thighs again, and follow as you lift yourself from his cock, and move yourself, placing your opening over his face, and then gently settle yourself down.

He squeezes your thighs tightly, and you feel his tongue flick inside of you, and let out a small moan.

Gently you move against his face as he continues to move his tongue in ways that made your skin tingle, made your body warm up, and made you release noises louder than you were planning on letting out.

He hums, and it feels delightful, fantastic, you have no idea who taught him this, but he knew what he was doing, and for that you’re grateful.

You reach between your legs and tangle your hand in his hair, feeling the groan he lets free, and you ride his face just a little faster.

He squeezes your thighs harder and helps guide you as you move, helps push you as you go.

After a moment one of his hands leaves your thigh, and you look behind you where it disappears to only to see him trying to get a little bit of pleasure himself, taking his cock in his hand, giving it a few languid strokes. 

For a moment you think about stopping him, but the thought is driven out of your head as he hits a spot so perfect you might as well have forgotten your own name.

You pull his hair a little harder, and squeeze your thighs as you try to keep a constant movement, you’re sure he’s drowning, but he hasn’t tapped twice, or once for that matter.

You can tell that you’re almost to your breaking point when he does tap your thigh twice, and you move to let him breathe.

You smack his hand away from his cock and settle your settle yourself back down on it, looking Arthur in the face, he’s covered in your slick and you watch as he licks his lips clean, and takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. 

“I saw that.” You look him in the eyes. “I didn’t say you could touch yourself did I?” 

“Didn’t stop me did you?” 

“I was a little preoccupied-”

“That seems like it’s your problem then ain’t it Sugar?” 

You snort and then move your hips again, tired of talking, you had been so close to finishing, before.

He brings his hands to your chest, rather than your thighs like before, slipping his hands beneath your shirt, a smile covering his lips as he feels your breasts, and thrusts to match your rhythm.

It doesn’t take much longer before Arthur’s hips begin to get erratic, and you know that he’s close to finishing himself.

“Darlin’...” He leans his head against the bed again, and his hands trail downwards, resting against your stomach.

“I know Arthur, I am too.” 

He grunts in response, and he grips your waist tightly as the two of you chase your climaxes.

Only moments later you feel yourself come loose, and clench around him, letting out a noise that spurs Arthur further, and brings a groan out of his body. 

“Darlin, you....need...move...” 

You get what he’s saying even in the state you’re in, your heart beating loudly in your ears and your breathing trying to catch up.

You move off of him, and just in time as he finishes against your thigh with another loud groan.

“Jesus Christ...” 

You watch as his chest rises and falls quickly, trying to catch his breath, he reaches out for you, and manages to find your hand, pulling you gently towards him.

“Lay with me Darlin’, please?” 

“Of course, you silly man.” 

You climb next to him and lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart as it tries to slow down.

“That was...I ain’t never had someone do that with me...” He mumbles. “I mean....the face thing.” 

“I’ve never done it either, I just...thought about it.” 

Arthur chuckles.

“Well, I liked that, next time though, I’ll be in charge...” 

[notstilinski]

The Twisted Ones Starters !

Taken from the 2019 novel by T. Kingfisher, The Twisted Ones! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit!

“She was born unkind and graduated to cruel early.”

“Not much point, is there? The only reason anyone would show up was to make sure they’re dead.”

“If I get in an accident, you’re gonna go right through the windshield, you know?”

“As you can see, he’s a terror.”

“Ohhh, is that all? Man, I thought you wanted me to hide a body.”

“I bet it’s aliens. It’s always aliens.”

“I could have gotten out of here. This place sucks.”

“Buddy, if this tunnel gets any lower, I’m sure as hell not crawling after you!”

“You being murdered? Were you at, honey? I’ll get ‘em!”

“Aw, mint juleps are so classy. Just straight bourbon over ice makes it sound like I’m lush.”

“I’d stay away from them. You leave stuff like that alone, it leaves you alone. Mostly.”

“I could un-ask, you know.”

“Oh my. That’s…. That’s a thing right there, ain’t it?”

“I swear, I don’t usually have breakdowns like that in the parking lot.”

“Well, I’m under a lot of stress. Monsters are stressful. And I should probably stop drinking coffee.”

“I don’t think the holler people are doing yoga.”

“Lord. Talk about being caught between the Devil and the deep blue sea.”

“Is it a good idea to be drunk if there are…uh…things out there?”

“Bit late for that, I’d say, since everybody’s dead.”

“I am so far from okay that I cannot see okay from here. Other than that, I’m fine.”

“You’re nodding off right here at the table.”

“I don’t care if it’s Elvis and the Blessed Virgin. Don’t go opening that door!”

Shit, what am I, the monster whisperer?”

“Shit, (Name), you say it like that and I sound like a real asshole.”

“That was… A thing you just said. Yes.”

“I sure as hell ain’t opening that door! I’ve seen horror movies!”

“I just want my dog back.”

“The prodigal son has priorities, I guess.”

“I know. But I have to. Somebody sent me a note asking for help.”

“Hey, maybe you got cute bones.”

“Look, if it’s gonna come to life and take a chunk out of me, I’d rather it do it now than when my back is turned.”

“Shit, (Name), i shoulda known better than to let either of us get into this.”

“Do you think this is what happens to people who get abducted by aliens?”

“Look, being terrified makes me hungry.”

“(Name), for all I know they’re gonna eat us and are trying to find a recipe book.”

“I doubt y’all are gonna let me reload, but the first six could be interesting.”

“Interesting woman, your grandmother.”

“How are you not having a complete breakdown?”

“Well, I figured one of us needed to be sober in case we needed to drive.”

“We live through this, hon, I’ll even fart in front of you.”

“But that’s why it keeps trying to get in. It doesn’t want us. It wants to come home.”

[hazbincalifornia]

Sharing is Caring

Chapter 58: A few last-minute things get settled before the Festival.

Ao3 link

“So you want to go to the-”

“The Moon Harvest festival or whateverthefuck it was called,” Blitzo said, leaning back in his chair with a creak. “Stolas invited you chucklefucks and Loona, said it would be a fun way to get to know you a little better once the ceremony’s over.”

“Absolutely!” Millie said, Wrathian twang lilting up on the middle syllable as she grinned. “Did he say what days we should go?”

“Eh, he said he wanted to head down a day early- besides, he needs the book for the big day, so we needed to give it back then anyway.” He shrugged. “If baby decides that she wants to say hi, he can rip a portal right to the hospital, and he wanted to keep his big eyes on me right now anyway.”

“I can’t really blame him for that,” Moxxie said, glancing down at Blitzo’s belly. “Are you sure you’ll be okay to travel?”

“I’ll be fine. We should still take the van in case we need to get anywhere when Stolas is busy, and a little bumping around won’t kill me. I’m still making it here, after all, and Pride potholes are a bitch.” He turned to Millie. “He said he’s got someplace prepped for the two of us, but he wanted to know if he needed to make preparations for you two and Loona.”

“Aw, my folks’d probably be happy to help!” Millie said, waving her hand. “One’a the rooms should be free.”

“What, do you want me to share with you two?” Loona asked, one ear flicking.

“No way,” Moxxie said at the same time Millie made a sort of contemplative hum.

From her seat across the table, Loona grunted.

“Gee. Thanks.”

“It’s a decent-sized place, and we’ve got a real comfy couch.”

“I’d rather sleep in the van.” She raised an eyebrow.

“There’s a guest room too, if nobody else is visiting you can take that.”

Blitzo clapped his hands. “Okay then! We’ll get that figured out later as long as y’all want to go, worst case scenario we can have Loona chill with Stolas and I.”

Loona straightened up. “No fucking way. I’m not going to listen to you two sucking face all night, that’s not any better than tweedle dee and tweedle dumbass over there. Put me up in a hotel or something if her house is too cramped.”

“Aww, sweetie, I’m sure one way or another we’ll have a decent place for you to stay with plenty of room, we’ll be fine, I’ll get it all cleared up beforehand, alright?” he cooed over at Loona before turning back to Millie and Moxxie. “I’ll drive down with you three, then I can meet up with Stolas there since he said there was some last-minute prep work to do. Plus, that way I can meet your family. Sound good, peeps?”

Millie nodded, and Moxxie hesitated for a moment before nodding as well.

“Perfect! Now that we’ve got that settled, who’s ready for lunch? I’m starved, it’s been like two and a half hours since breakfast and this little brat is taking every last-minute crumb she can get.” He gently rapped his knuckles on his middle and nodded over to the fridge. Millie hopped up.

“I could go for a snack, but I’m not all that hungry yet. Honey?”

“I could have some of mine too,” Moxxie half-hummed. “Loona?”

She shrugged, still clearly a bit sore about how things had shaken out about accommodations. “Sure.” He’d be sure to find someplace she’d be comfortable- there was no way Stolas’s home base for this wouldn’t have multiple rooms. He was pretty sure princes were legally obligated to only stay in fancy-ass places, it was probably some nice hotel they could snag a room for Loona at or something if there wasn’t room at Millie’s. That counted as trying to give her a bit more independence, right?

Millie pulled their respective lunches out of the fridge. Blitzo had a sandwich as well as a smoothie, and he made grabby-hands as Millie balanced all of it carefully atop her arms, snatching his portions once she was close enough.

“Thanks, Millie, you’re a peach.”

“I do my best!” She popped the lid off her box, which was some kind of meaty thing that smelled nice, although he couldn’t really see inside it to tell any more details than that.

Loona pulled one of the leftover quesadillas from dinner last night out of her bag before rolling it up into a little tortilla wrap, tossing it in her mouth and snapping her teeth around it. Moxxie, meanwhile, had some kind of fish sushi thing along with a smushed cupcake, and Blitzo heard as much as felt his stomach growl.

It smelled good.

It smelled really good.

Blitzo flipped the lid up on his smoothie, chugging it down with thick gulps that slid down his throat and settled heavy in his belly, but the smell was still right there as Moxxie popped one of the rolls in his mouth, cheek puffing out as he chewed.

There was some kind of spice on top of it that tickled at the back of his brain, and Blitzo thumped the thermos down after draining half of it. He swallowed down what was in his mouth, but it was still watering- the citrus-y tang just wasn’t as good as it usually was.

Moxxie was about to take a bite of another before raising an eyebrow. “Are you alright?”

“Of course, why?” Blitzo said the second he realized he was drooling.

“You’re, ah…” Moxxie gestured at his own chin, and Blitzo scrubbed at his mouth.

“Yuk it up, it’s not like I’m a week out from getting the kid out and she’s making me want to grab that from across the table or anything, thank you very much.”

“This?” Moxxie held up his box. “Do you… really want it?”

Blitzo’s stomach let out a whine, and he nearly whined along with it as Moxxie tilted his head to the side.

“It’s not that big of a deal, it didn’t take that long to make, as long as you give me your sandwich-”

“Deal!” Blitzo practically lunged for the box, tipping it upside down over his mouth and catching three of the little bite-sized pieces on his tongue at once, getting a little yelp from Moxxie and a laugh from Millie.

“Geez, you’re lucky he didn’t want a piece of you, sweetie!”

“Shu’ up,” Blitzo said through a mouthful of fish, pointing at her. “Y’r-” He swallowed.”-Lucky that I didn’t want yours too.”

“It’d be kinda funny to see you try and do that with a whole big slab’a pig meat.”

“Don’t tempt me, you have no idea how much meat this mouth can take.” He slid his sandwich across the table, and Moxxie looked at it before shrugging.

“Eh, I’ll save it for later.”

“What, it’s not good enough for you?”

“What? No, I’m just not that hungry.” He paused. “Did you like it?”

Blitzo swished saliva around in his mouth, savoring the taste as his stomach settled down a little before stabbing one of the pieces with his claw and popping it in his mouth. “Mhm.” Swallowing sent it down with the rest of its drowning brethren. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Maybe you could…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe you could come over after work tonight so we could make some more to replace those? I was kind of looking forward to them…”

Blitzo looked down at the two remaining in the box, then back up at Moxxie, before a slow smile spread across his face.

“That sounds great, but I warn you, I’m an expert chef and might have to take charge.”

“You believe whatever you want to believe, sir.” Moxxie leaned over and snagged one of the remaining pieces before pushing the box closer to Blitzo.

____________________

Loona had elected to stay back at the new apartment, and Blitzo groaned as he turned the key in the van, staring up at the window to M+M’s apartment- and knowing the stairs that were involved in getting up to it.

Fuck, this had been so much easier back before the whole baby thing. Then, he could have just shimmied up the fire escape and only risked tetanus and a stained jacket, not his ankles wanting to snap on him.

He wasn’t about to give up, though- Moxxie had actually invited him over, and he’d be blessed if he was going to let this slip through his fingers. Sucking in a breath, he slid out, heading for the door to get buzzed in.

“Blitz?” Moxxie asked.

“No, it’s the tooth fairy.”

“I don’t have to let you in, you know.” Still, it was accompanied by the little beep from the door, and Blitzo grinned as he pushed the door open.

“Aw, you know you love me. Tell Millie to get that one good knife with the purple handle ready.”

He heard “Will do!” as the door swung shut behind him, and he faced up the stairs. The very tall stairs. Yeah, okay, it was only like three flights to their place, but that might as well be a mountain, considering the Everything. There wasn’t a working elevator as of six months ago, and a glance to the left confirmed that was still the case, a toxic green sign plastered over the door.

He grabbed the railing before starting up, and it was only when he was rounding the third level with his tongue hanging out and his legs burning that he realized he could have just used the book to zip directly into their apartment.

...He was going to blame that on baby-brain.

“Heya!” Millie already had the door open when he made it to their room. “You alright? That took a bit.”

“Tell that to the two-ton wonder in here,” he grumbled, waving in the vague direction of his guts. “Move someplace that has a working elevator and then we’ll talk, got it?”

“Aw, kiddo, be nice to your daddy.” Millie bent forward and patted at the top of his stomach, and junior squirmed in reply. “That better mean you’re listening to me.” She looked back up at him. “You picked a name yet?”

He shook his head. “Nope. We’re still running through the list and today I’m kinda feeling Sunburst. Why, you got suggestions?”

“Just the ones we brainstormed up together,” she said, stepping back so he could come in. “You’re gonna have to choose pretty soon, though…”

Blitzo cracked his neck. “I know, I know, keep your ass on. We’re going to go over it again at the festival. It’s gotta be something good.”

“I know, I just wanna know what to call ‘em!” Millie said with a little laugh. “We already started a little, if you could just wash your hands and grab the paper you can roll.”

Blitzo nodded. “Works for me.” Moxxie was already in a cute little apron that was lined with red musical notes, measuring out the rice with what sounded like a musical theater soundtrack crooning through the radio next to him. (He’d gotten control of the radio in the office enough for Blitzo to be able to tell pretty quickly when it was his nerd-songs. At least he was pretty sure this one wasn’t Catz.)

The actual preparation of the rolls didn’t take very long- probably shorter than it had taken for Blitzo to get up here, considering they’d already made the rice. He may have stolen a handful or two, but that was fair payment for having to make the trip, and besides, Moxxie just raised an eyebrow and didn’t say anything, so that counted as ‘not being a big deal’ in Blitzo’s book.

They ended up curling up on the couch with a movie- some ultra-gorey romcom from Wrath that Millie insisted could have been based off her sister, who Blitzo now liked from that fact alone- and Millie ended up half-asleep with her head resting on Moxxie’s lap as Blitzo stuffed the last of the popcorn in his mouth. It had been, all things considered, a very nice night.

Moxxie cleared his throat. “So…”

“So?” Blitzo swallowed, but the sudden lump in his throat was suspiciously free of lingering kernels. “So what?”

“I just… wanted to talk.” Moxxie’s hand rested on top of Millie’s head, the fingers curling into black hair. “You’re really going to have a baby.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s been the case for six months.” He paused. “Five, really, I had no clue until I took that test. What’s the issue all of a sudden?”

“I just…” Moxxie clicked his tongue. “I know you…”

Blitzo raised an eyebrow. “You’re not nursing on Millie’s cock, Moxxie, so spit it out.”

Moxxie smacked Blitzo’s arm with his tail as Millie gave a little half-giggle. “I just wanted to make sure you really wanted this. You changed your mind so fast, and I don’t want you to change it again and leave them to deal with it, that’s all.”

Blitzo blinked at that before groaning, shoving the now-empty popcorn bowl to the side before stretching his legs out. “Way to kill the mood, Moxx.”

“I’m trying to look out for-”

“I want it.” The words came with such certainty that Moxxie stuttered to a stop mid-sentence. “I know it kinda came outta nowhere, but… I think I kinda wanted it just a little for a while, I just didn’t want to deal with all the shit that’d come with wanting it, y’know? Shit with Stolas was a mess and I didn’t want to shove extra work on you two or Loonie… but you handled yourselves just fine as a team, I’ve talked with Loona, and…” Blitzo’s fingers drummed atop his belly.

“And… I think Stolas is okay. He’s still a prissy royal with his head like fifteen percent up his ass, don’t get me wrong, but he’s trying, y’know? He took us for a photoshoot at with a gorgeous mare and got me a fucking pony earlier, that’s the kind of shit they put in movies.” His fingertips and palm fell flat. “Satan knows we’ve got a long-ass way to go, but... we’re a family. All of us. We’ll make this work somehow. It’s not like this is the first time things went tits-up and I’ve always survived before, and I didn’t want her feeling like nobody cared about her. I can… I can do this.”

Moxxie smiled at that, nodding before reaching over to squeeze Blitzo’s hand. “We’ll be right there with you then, sir. Considering she’s yours, you’re going to need the help.”

“That comment’s coming out of your next paycheck.”

Moxxie just rolled his eyes as Millie stirred a little, blinking. “Were y’all having a heart-to-heart without me?”

“Just saying you’re not getting out of having to chase the squirt around the office sometimes since she’s gonna be here to stay,” Blitzo said with a grin, noogieing the top of her head and getting a laugh out of her.

“Ooo, you’re lucky I can’t get you back proper without snapping that baby’s skull,” she said, yanking his head down anyway to return the favor as Moxxie scooted back with a chuckle to allow the two of them to go at it.

She ended up getting Blitzo in a headlock without leaving the couch with a comment about how she knew he was going to be a good dad no matter what, but even as he complained that it wasn’t playing fair because he’d just had to talk about his feelings and that counted as a handicap, the warm butter in his stomach and lingering on his tongue tasted like sunshine.

[maximoff-pan]

all roads lead (back to you) | bruce wayne

Summary: You and Bruce used to be friends, some might say more than that. But things change, shit happens. Bruce finds himself in the position of the hero, and you, the villain’s accomplice

Pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: dark(ish) themes, little to no fluff, not really edited (so maybe some grammar mistakes)

A/n: woah it’s been a minute! But I saw The Batman, and immediately knew I had to write for it. (I’d love to write some more if y’all are down…) also, I know this is short, and probably not very good (I’m fairly certain this is pretty ooc for Bruce), but oh well… I hope you guys enjoy!

Edward had told you where you could find it, hidden in a slit in the wall, a paper with your next instructions. It’s coded, you wouldn’t expect anything less from him. Unfolding it and taking a quick glance at the symbols that litter the page, a sinister smile creeps onto your face. He always was a tricky bastard.

Reading it in awe, you realize he’d really done it, he was going to fucking flood Gotham. Once and for all. And you’d be there to relish in it. Breathe it in, fucking live to see it pass. After everything this city has put you through, this message feels like a spark, lighting the flame of your life force. An energy courses through your veins, this is really happening.

“Drop it.” A gravelly tone floods your senses. Batman, you think. The vigilante’s voice carries stoically across the room, strong, and bold. But there’s something so recognizable about it.

It’s him…

Up until this moment, you hadn’t heard his voice in so long. It sounds almost foreign to your ears, but even dressed in his Batman suit, you’d know that voice anywhere.

With your back facing him, and the coded cypher in your right hand, you release a dark chuckle. “You know I can’t do that Bruce.”

You hear his breath hitch as you angle your body to face his. All of a sudden, Edward’s science lab of a secret apartment feels much smaller than it had a moment ago.

How could you possibly know his real name….unless…

“(Y/n).” The realization hits him like a fucking truck. You’re the only person who could possibly know, the only person who could possibly figure out his identity simply from the sound of his voice.

Lips slanting upward, you raise an eyebrow menacingly at him. “Surprise.”

Bruce doesn’t like showing emotion. You know this better than anyone. He doesn’t like letting someone know that they’ve managed to get under his skin. But you’re different. He’s very aware how easily you can read him, micro expressions and all. So, he deems, there’s little to no point in trying to conceal his shock.

Glancing at the cypher in your hand, and then back up to your face, the pieces click instantly. The Riddler had mentioned something about an accomplice, taunted Bruce about having someone from his past. She belongs to me, he’d said.

He never once thought he could mean you. His best friend.

Bruce’s deep blue orbs observe. He’s watching you, you can feel it with every fibre in your being. But unlike you expected, there’s no judgement that passes through his gaze. Even worse, there’s a flicker of pity. Regret.

You take your turn to take him in. His eyes won’t meet your own, and you know he feels bad, guilty even. For what, you’re not quite sure, but whatever it is, it’s written all over his face.

Even with a mask, you can still read him like a book.

“Don’t.” Your tone is threatening, but behind the bravado is the scared child you used to be. The one that maybe you still are…

His eyes narrow in thought. “I never said anything.”

You hum, a venom seeping passed your lips. “You didn’t have to.”

A lull drags through the air, thick and poignant. Conversation was never your strong suit. Nor was it Bruce’s.

“I want to fix this.” He says finally.

“Fix it?” You question, a scoff bubbling in your throat. “Or make it go away? Isn’t that the Wayne way? Making problems disappear?”

The pitch in his voice raising ever so slightly, he says, “Jesus (Y/n). You’re not a fucking problem.”

He watches as your eyes roll in disgust, moments ticking by slowly. You’re annoyed.

You decide to challenge him. “Then what am I?”

“Not this.” He answers, ever the son of a politician.

“How vague.” You tsk, picking your nails in disinterest. “Not this.” You imitate the deep chortle of his voice, eyeing him with contempt. It almost makes you laugh. “Fucking what I am?”

Bruce decides to push it. “Not what he made you.” He pauses. “You’re my best friend.”

“Liar, Bruce,” You hum. The use of present tense is comical. “No more lies….”

“(Y/n).” His attempts are starting to wear you down, but you’re not quite ready to give in yet.

“You’re not him.” He says. “You don’t have to sound like him.”

“No,” you seethe. He’s hit a sore spot. “I’m not.”

You’d always worried that if anyone found out about you, The Riddler’s second in command, they’d accuse you of being a poser, a simple follower. But you’re much more than that.

“Come back to me,” Bruce urges. “You don’t have to be what he wants you to be. You can just be yourself.”

Be yourself? The thought sounds so ludicrous. For months you’d been at Edward’s side, being exactly who he wanted you to be. You’d lost sight of the woman you once were, too focused on the task at hand: destroying Gotham.

Bruce always made you feel sane. He never once tried to change you, making you feel safe in who you were. He was always good to you, unlike most of the people in this godforsaken city. Until he wasn’t. Until he shut you out.

He started keeping secrets, becoming more and more quiet as the days passed. You felt like you had lost him…lost the only person who made you feel whole.

Your thoughts bombard you, harshly and suddenly. Tears prick the corner of your eye. Why were you even doing this?

For Edward, you say to yourself in disgust. Is that the only reason you’re truly doing all this?

Bruce’s pleading cuts through the static of your mind. “Please (Y/n).” The look in his eyes plunges like a dagger to your soul. “You can come home.” This might just be the first time you’ve heard him beg.

Your home was never a place, you realize. It has always been him.

Tears begin to fall down your cheeks, the emotions overwhelming you. “Home.” You choke out with a nod of your head. “I want to go home.”

Knees sinking to the ground as sobs rack through your body, Bruce follows your every move, almost as if he knows what you’re going to do before you even think of doing it.

Allowing yourself to reach for him, kneeling into each other, your breathing slows to a content pace. In and out. A second passes. Two. Then three.

And all you can think is: maybe all roads do lead back to him.

Bruce Wayne.

[scott-mccall-the-hot-girl]

my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!

( as a new teen wolf stan )

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the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!

Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.

Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)

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okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies

Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim

Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.

Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)

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Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!

Artificial Love - songbvrd

Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.

Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)

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so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!

The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR

Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”

Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.

Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)

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me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*

Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape

Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”

Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”

Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.

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okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical

Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.

(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)

Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )

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so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite

Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.

Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.

Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )

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okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!

two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!

for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!

whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )

go check out:

eneiryu

as well as fallingforboys

here are some of my favorite fics by them ~

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys

even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys

memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys

skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys

i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys

whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys

between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu

cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu

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okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore

my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene

it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…

Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach

Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.

Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.

Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )

[bokettochild]

Legendary Cousins

So... I promised @peachy-scars that I would write them this a while back when they posted this, and after consulting y’all (I think it was @attllhak and several anons who helped the most) I finally had enough to just go ham and write this beautiful piece of garbage.

Hope you like it, Peaches!

 They had landed in a new Hyrule, and Legend’s instant reaction was to blink and stare about with a conflicted expression on his face while the others had stared in confusion at their surroundings.

 “Why’s this look so weird?” Wind demanded eloquently as he pulled himself out from beneath a giggling Hyrule, who always laughed nervously when they landed in a new Hyrule and seemed particularly giddy today.

 “Wind, manners.” Time chided softly, pulling himself back up and working with Wild to pull his protégé back up, Twilight looking around dizzily as he leaned on his mentor for balance. “You don’t know whose home this might be.”

 “I do.” Legend hissed softly, hooded eyes staring towards a nearby path while a slight smile touched his lips. “New Hero everyone.”

 Glances were exchanged before shooting to the vet in confusion. “How...”

 “You knew there were more heroes?” Warriors sputtered, staring at the vet in surprise while the hero in question pulled himself to his feet and shook out his limbs, knuckles crackling painfully and making the others wince.

 “Time travel mixed with world hopping and the occasional visit to other countries.” Legend answered in a low voice, stretching towards the sky and standing on the tips of his toes (eyes turned away as the vet’s already short tunic rode higher). “I’ve met plenty of other heroes. Five- maybe six? Not sure.” He shrugged, arms falling back to his sides as he moved further into the forest. “Come along, if we want to check up on things we’d best get headed to the castle. Monsters out here are brutal, even if they are bloody crazy.”

 Glances were exchanged again, Wind’s wide eyes growing wider as he mouthed the words ‘six other heroes’ to his brothers.

 “Who met Legend before all this went down?” The captain hissed, pulling Four up onto his back. “Because it sure as heck wasn’t me.”

 No one answered, and they didn’t have much of a chance to as the Vet’s voice broke through the forest, a harsh hiss for them to hurry. “You stay there all day the ‘blins’ll eat you!”

 Eight heroes pulled themselves along, following after as Legend trailed silently through the forest.

 Each stumble or loud noise earned a glare from the vet, and if it didn’t come from them, it made him freeze, steps stopping immediately as his ears would prick towards the sound. More than once, Twilight or Sky had to muffle a laugh in their respective wraps as the image of a bunny starting to alert entered their minds.

 Maybe it’s the laughter. Maybe it’s just their dang Hero of Courage luck, or maybe it’s just because Hylia thinks it funny, but even with all Legend’s glaring and stopping and sneaking, they are attacked just as they reach the edge of the forest.

 The monsters are... horrifying. Nothing most of them have ever even seen, and the only thing they can do as they fight is to take the vet’s advice. “Aim for the eyes! And if you can’t reach them, the ankles!” The vet shouts as he kicks into a spin attack. The other heroes follow suit, ripping into the beasts as Wild pulls back from the group, setting off volleys of arrows as best he can do by himself, and successfully blinding a few of the monsters.

 They’re thick into the song of battle when an unknown voice rings out. “Good golly! Hang on there, sirs!”

 It’s hard to see past the swarms of monsters (seriously, they’ve never been this thick!) but blonde hair and a swinging sword assure them that whomever it is, is likely the hero Legend had told them about. Enemies fall as bombs explode and various weapons pierce through hearts and heads.  

 Once the dust has cleared, they take careful stock of their injuries and weapons (Wild’s shattered another sword and Four is sighing wearily) before turning their attention to their unexpected help.

 Legend and the other hero stand over a dead bokoblin, shaking hands in a friendly manner while the one chatters to the other, the vet smiling thinly but genuinely as he listens.

 “Vet, who’s this?”

 “Ah! You have friends!” A bright smile is turned their way as the swordsman releases Legend’s hand. “Greetings! I’m Link.”

 “The Hero of Koridai.” Legend adds on, rolling his eyes.

 “Aw, come on, Other-Link!” The newcomer grins, jabbing Legend playfully in the side and effectively stealing his breath. “I’m just Link is all.”

 “That’s all of their names too.” Legend wheezes, glaring up at the other.

 The chain of heroes takes in the newcomer, who, much to the captain’s dismay, seems to share Legend’s opinion of pants, as well as a preference for pegasus boots. Bright brown eyes stare back at them, a dopey grin on the hero’s face, but beneath the welcoming grin there's a glint of something sharp and dangerous that has Warriors shuffling back warily.

 “What adventure is this? Finish meeting up with your lovely cousins?”

 The vet huffs a breath, clearing his throat as he straightens up again. “Thereabouts, this’ll be adventure seven.”

 “Ooh, seven. Ouch.” Bright brown turn towards the vet with a sympathetic wince. “Sorry about that.”

 “You had your own quests.” Legend dismisses, as if his words don’t confuse the others. “How’s Zelly by the way? We haven’t heard from her.”

 Link, for lack of a better current name, smiles cheerily. “Half a minute yet there.” Turning to the others he offers yet another impossibly wide smile, it’s very nearly uncomfortable to look at, and Legend is the only one who seems unaffected by doing so (he has seen far, far worse from this world). “We should skedaddle over to the castle.” A halting motion is made towards the castle just in front of them as the newest hero laughs nervously. “As long as you’re there, you won’t be attacked.”

 And for lack of anything else to do, they agree, following after as Legend and the new Link chat in the front, Legend with an amount of patience that has never in their memory presented itself and the new Link with an almost irritating amount of pep and cheer. “Zelly’s doing great, and we’re hoping to visit all of you soon too! Or, we were, but the monsters started getting real bad an’ Zel figured we’d better stay behind to make sure they didn’t cause too much trouble.”

 “How bad?” The vet’s brows quirk with concern and Warriors nearly stumbles at the gentle expression on Legend’s face.

 “Just a bit stronger.” The new Link shrugs, but smiles brightly up at Legend. “It’s not as bad as last time though, so don’t worry your pink head about it.”

 And Legend... Legend actually laughs, reaching up to tug the cap of the other Link as they cross into the shadow of Hyrule Castle’s walls.  

 “What the-” Warriors is cut off with a blaring ‘Beep!’ from Wind, who looks up at him cheekily when the captain looks down at him.

 “Censoring.” Wind chirrups.

 ”Soooo...” Twilight drawls, a smile pulling at his features as he looks between the duo, the heroes all relaxing as they enter the castle gates. “How do you two know each other?”

 “We’re cousins!” Link chirrups happily, shooting another smile over his shoulder that’s just a bit too wide and a bit too sharp.”

 “Third Cousins or...” Legend waves his hand vaguely. “Somethin’. Their father is my second cousin or some sort of thing, it’s unclear honestly, all we know is that Zelda is my cousin somewhere down the line and with those two dating-” The other Link flushes at the statement, face as dopey as Sky’s gets. “He’s bound to be thrown in there somewhere too.”

 “Wait!” Four looks from one of the cousins to the other (there is a bit of resemblance, uncannily enough, even though Link smiles far more than Legend). “Whose time is this?”

 The two share a look, nodding firmly before turning to the others and speaking together. “Both.”

 “Two heroes? In one time?” Time cocks a brow.

 Legend throws his hands up. “You can talk to Hylia about that!”

 “Oh!” Link’s grin widens further as he bounces in place. “And how is Aunt Hylia? Golly, I haven’t seen her in ages!”

 “Aunt Hylia...” Sky blinks slowly.

 The vet huffs. “Fine. She’s letting Fable back into the fighting ring this weekend, figured since the Master didn’t mess things up that it’d be okay to let Hylians head back out there. Hide the evidence if they send me an invite, yeah?”

 “Will do!” Comes the chipper reply, but the other heroes aren’t done.

 “Wait, wait, wait, how many heroes are there in this time?” Warriors looks from one to the other with panic building in his gaze.

 Link frowns in what seems an over-the-top expression of thought. “Do the colors count?”  

 Four chokes.

 Legend flushes. “They count.” His voice is strained and nearly wheezing as swirling hazel stares a hole in his head.

 “And then there’s the Hytopian wannabe, who might very well actually be one.” Link continues. “And the two of us. Does Great-Grandfather Raven count?”

 “Not in this time, he just traveled here briefly when Nayru became corrupted.” Legend drawls with a head tilt, as if talking about meeting your ancestors and de-corrupting a goddess was normal for this world, and with the way Link just nods along, they are all beginning to worry that that is the norm here.

 “Right, so five heroes.” Link nods slowly. “And then we have great-gramps Raven, and whoever- wait.” The new Link’s eyes fly wide open as he motions to Time. “Isn’t that Great-Gramps?”

 Legend and Time both splutter as the vet hurries to correct the other hero. “No! He’s...” Legend looks from the startled Time to his cousin. “That’s the Hero of Time.” He whispers gravely, and Link’s eyes blow even wider as he looks to Time, who winces. They’ve all heard of what happened to the Hero of Time in this world.

 “Oh!” Link breathes, before another smile stretches over his face. “Great-Great-Gramma Lon’s husband!”

 Legend just facepalms while Time stands with his mouth flapping and fingers twitching, the old man now trying to calculate exactly how many children are now officially his while Warriors proceeded to have all the color drain out of his face.

 “How are there two heroes of Courage here!!!!” The Captain hisses, and Link and Legend both look at each other. “And for the love of Hylia! Stop looking at each other all the time, what, can you read minds?!?!”

 And both stare at the captain with the deadest of dead expressions, which actually makes Link all the more unnerving and Legend all the more intimidating. “Yes.”

 It takes a while, but once they meet Zelda, she takes the time to explain.

 “Our fathers are cousins.” She says, smiling at the heroes as they all sit and have lunch in the courtyard, motioning to Legend as she speaks. The vet is currently pulling his hat back off of his face after having it tugged down in vengeance for earlier. “Once both had married into the royal family, there was contention in the kingdom so Auntie Hylia sent Mapa and Papa out here to take care of this part of the kingdom while she handled things in central Hyrule.

 “Most folks call Papa a king because they forget that it’s one country, but what with the high borders and all, it may as well be its own country.” She shrugs as she pops another piece of food in her mouth. “And there aren’t two Courage Wielders, technically. I mean, there are, but Link isn’t one of them.” She smiles in a sly sort of way, too wide, too knowing, too creepy for many of the heroes to be comfortable. “He just happens to care a lot and does what he can.”

 “Oh yeah,” Hyrule nods knowingly, chewing slowly on his own meal. “My brother is like that too.”

 The others, even Legend and Link, turn to Hyrule in shock. “Your what???”

[izukult]

little things with denki kaminari

happy birthday to my love. latest in this series here

—whenever one of you is listening to music, you always share earbuds (or at least offer). you have a shit ton of playlists for situations (bus rides with loser, people in class won’t stfu and we have to act like we care¿?, bored asf) etc. it’s also customary for you to have at least one song rec for each other a day.

—bro this motherfucker has bit you before? how odd.

—he really, really loves to talk. so no matter how talkative or how quiet you are, you two are constantly interrupting each other and it always makes him laugh.

—denki has no idea what to do when it comes to relationships. not one thought is running through that mans head and it shows. when you two first get together, he has genuinely no idea what to say. he’s smooth and casual when he’s not thinking about it, but the second he processes the fact he’s your boyfriend and he’s supposed to be boy friendly, he’s clueless.

—he literally quotes romance movies to try to sound cool. it’s so bad. he sounds awful. it’s horrible. it’s ugly. please, kaminari, i’m begging you. be quiet. it’s kinda cute tho tbfh

—also! he gets so flustered. he would never show you but like when you send a text that’s even remotely romantic he’s done for. that one video of the girl holding her phone to her chest and kicking the bed? that’s him tbh

—after every fight, near miss, or villain encounter all he ever wants to do is spend time with you. even if you’re both just sitting there silently, it calms him down so much.

—speaking of, he freaks out really easily. and he finds so much comfort in you. and he wants to do the same for you. he has a list of things he knows make you feel better. be like that for him or ur a fucking loser

—you’re a big motivator in his training. after all the shit he’s seen, he’s got a lot of valid fear and trauma. so he doesn’t want you to ever have to go through that type of thing, even if you were training to be a hero. he wants to be able to protect you, so he pushes himself super hard to learn how to channel his electricity.

—did you know kaminari skateboards? well, he does! and he is itching to teach you. you two love to go to this little park at night, only lit by street lights and the city. his hands are on your waist as you wobble on the board and he’s laughing at you. teaches you about footing and all the terms (“i’m not gonna be dating anyone who stands goofy, you hear me?” clearly he doesn’t actually give a shit.). once you’re pretty good, he buys you a board as a gift.

—denki is a pretty chill dude. he doesn’t get offended much and when he does he’s never really angry about it. but if someone even looks at you wrong he’s laughing almost politely and flicking his wrist back and commenting some snarky insult about that person not really to them but definitely loud enough for them to hear.

—he sneaks into your room every night to fall asleep with you. you fake being annoyed when he comes in and runs his mouth for fifteen minutes, but you don’t actually care. kaminari sleeps with his head covered in pillows, so i imagine he shoves his head into your neck or back, and wraps his arm completely around you once he actually falls asleep. very cuddly dude. once you complained about how it was too hot at night because of him, and instead of letting up he bought you a 75 dollar desk top power fan and told you problem solved.

—movie nights every thursday. you tried to argue it should be saturday for months, talking about sleep schedules and responsibilities the next morning but he does not care. it’s thursday’s, you will enjoy it. srz

—he unironically wants you guys to get one of those big shirts you can both wear. every time a birthday or holiday or anniversary comes up and you ask what he wants, he tells you that shirt. he begs for you to wear one with him. one time he was sobbing over something completely irrelevant and you asked him if there was anything that would make him feel better and through tears he said “big couple shirt” and cried harder when you said no.

—he wakes you up with a shitty pickup line every single morning. sometimes he looks them up, sometimes he makes up shitty ones specific to you.

—you two have matching bracelets. you made them together one night, he bought a bunch of beads and shit and insisted that you make them. he made yours, you made his. so yea basically you walk around with a shitty yellow and black bracelet that says denki (self projecting as i literally wear that bracelet right now)

—no matter where he is, he always makes sure a spot next to him is available for you, just incase you show up. he wants you to feel included and even if he’s silent about it, he makes sure you’re always comfortable.

—he makes you recreate funny couples photos all the time. like the reaction meme looking ones. his favorite (which is also his lock screen and his profile picture) is the one with that couple making out on the fence and the girls holding the guy up lol. also loves to take really uncomfortable ones that look like posed white people family photos and you’re both just doing thumbs up and standing too far away from each other.

—y’all are so funny for real. like constantly laughing, always having fun, just so comfortable?? such a good relationship i’m ngl would die for it

—he gets a star projector and makes you stare at it with him for hours. for the first thirty minutes he aggressively shushes you if you try to say anything. loves it.

—he’s really good at balancing being a good friend / conversationalist / person to be around and being affectionate. he’s pretty good at gauging what you need when you need it. he’s such a good boyfriend yea <33

[ptergwen]

only you and me

w/c: 6.7k

warnings: angst, mentions of weed, and some swearing

summary: whenever peter tries to tell you how he feels, harry gets in the way

a/n: ahhhh hi my loves! my mini writing break is over :,) life has been just a mess for me and i’ve been way more critical than usual about my work but i’m doing a little better and ready to get back into everything! this helped me a lot so i’m excited to share it with y’all <3 it’s also my first time writing harry osborn so lmk how i did lmaooofwfjj but yeah pls enjoy

-

“dude, she’s right there! just tell her!” ned whisper yells to peter, elbowing him for emphasis. they’re hidden behind a wall to watch you at your locker. you’re grabbing books while betty rants to you and mj rolls her eyes. “not now. she looks... busy,” peter gulps, gaze trailing down your body. he always finds excuses to put off telling you how he feels.

or rather, excuses find him. something comes up every time he gets the courage to do it. he has no idea why he’s so scared because he’s pretty sure you like him back. pretty sure. there are a few reasons why you might not. also, plenty why you might. you stay up late texting most nights, and you’ve even flirted a couple of times. it never fails to make peter blush. he trips over his words whenever he tries to flirt back.

he’s had feelings for you since the first time you two hung out alone. none of your other friends could make it, but you happily took him up on his offer to come over. you grinned through his whole apartment tour, asked about may and what she does. when peter showed you his room, you even complimented his movie posters, much to his surprise.

“really? you don’t think they’re, like, dorky?”

“no, peter. your interests aren’t dorky. everyone likes what they like.”

and, he liked you. he knew it from that point on. you’d know it too if the universe wouldn’t keep stopping him from saying that.

“she’s so...” peter pauses for a second. him and ned watch you pull betty in by her shoulders as if you’re going to kiss her. she dodges you, mj pushing her back, all three of you giggling about it before you grab betty’s hands and give her words of encouragement. “cool,” peter finishes, turning back to ned. “i mean, how she puts herself out there like that.”

“what’s stopping you from doing the same thing?” ned points out with a knowing smile that peter returns. you make it look so easy. whenever you’re comfortable around people, you can let go of any doubts you have. you stop worrying about what they might think and instead do what you want. it’s inspiring to peter, and heart warming getting to be one of the people you’re fully you with.

he wishes he could apply your wisdom himself.

peter shakes his head, staring down at the floor. “oh, you know. anxiety, fear of rejection. that fun stuff.” “so, yourself,” ned concludes, clapping peter’s backpack so hard it makes him stumble forward. betty and mj wave goodbye to you before heading to their first class. you’re still getting your things together at your locker. this is peter’s moment.

“come on, dude! y/n’s not busy anymore. you got this.” ned keeps his hand on peter’s back, adding on, “it’s been a year already.” “half a year,” peter corrects him in a mumble. he’s liked you for a really long time. “ok, i’m going. wish me luck.” he takes a deep breath and focuses in on you. “aw, dude. you don’t need it.” ned gives him one last pat on the back. “good luck, though.” “thanks, man. see you in trig.”

right as peter starts heading over, harry comes up behind you and covers your eyes. you squeal, jumping up and turning to him, laughing as you playfully hit at his chest. he brings you into a hug where your face is buried in his sweater and probably inhaling his super strong, super expensive cologne.

that’s what’s stopping peter, harry freaking osborn. his own friend.

peter quickly loses the tiny bit of confidence ned gave him. he figures it might be better to hold off on his confession and get an early start to class. unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. harry has already spotted him and calls him over.

“hey, pete! come give us some love, eh?” harry beams, an arm slung around your shoulders and you smiling up at him. you direct your smile to peter when he slumps his way to your locker. his lips pull into a barely noticeable frown. you notice. “there’s my guy. why so down, sunshine?” harry offers his fist for a fist bump. peter gives it to him, eyes staying on you.

harry osborn. where to begin with such a specimen? he’s the perfect combination of everything you’d want in a guy. he gets good grades, he’s a star player on on the basketball team, nice to everyone and makes you laugh, popular yet fits right into your small group.

he was friends with you before the popular thing. what kicked it off was him making varsity basketball while only being a sophomore. yep, he’s unreal. since then, he’s been balancing his cool life and also hanging with “the nerds,” as he likes to call you. he got his own feelings for you along the way. peter can tell.

he’ll give you rides home, compliment how you look, basically act like your boyfriend without really being it. it absolutely infuriates peter because he doesn’t compare to harry in the slightest. if he were you and had the choice between himself or harry, he would pick harry.

it’s been a factor in why he hasn’t come clean about how he feels yet. he’s not trying to create a love triangle that he doesn’t stand a chance surviving in.

“for real, peter. you good?” you ask him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “fine,” peter lies and musters up a smile. “i’m just tired. didn’t sleep too good last night.” you’re only more concerned now. this has been happening to him a lot lately. you search for his eyes. “again?”

“aw, man. you need something for it?” harry punches peter’s shoulder and lowers his voice. “i know this kid who-“ “harry, stop.” your words are serious, tone lighthearted. you throw your head back on his arm. “do you really know a kid?” “i’m not telling you,” he says in an overly happy voice, you humming the same way. peter feels like he’s third wheeling.

“i was telling pete.” harry looks at him expectantly, peter’s mouth dropping open while he thinks of what to say. harry likes to mess around. this is a different level, though. “no thanks. i- i shouldn’t. i’m-“ “relax, i don’t know a kid,” harry chuckles and points at peter. “your face right now.” it’s completely flushed. you knock into harry’s side.

“ok, well literally no one laughed. you’re scaring him,” you tell harry sternly. peter tugs tight on one of his backpack straps. he doesn’t feel like he’s third wheeling you two now. he feels like your kid. he’ll never let ned mettle in his love life ever again if this is where it gets him. “he knows i’m kidding, y/n/n. right?” harry checks with peter. you make a face at him that says you aren’t convinced.

he switches his arm from you to peter, drawing him into his side. “look, pete. i’m sorry. the only kid i know who’s selling is chocolates for his band trip.” you’re satisfied with that, grinning at both of them. peter forces a laugh and nods. “no worries, man. i gotta get to class.” “good boy,” harry lets him go. “bye, pete. we’ll see you at lunch,” you remind him. he gives you a tight lipped smile. “see you, y/n/n.”

you and harry continue practically spooning each other as soon as peter is out of sight.

what the hell is going on?

peter is back to being grumpy, plopping down in his seat next to ned. their teacher has the lesson plan pulled up on the smart board. ned looks from it to peter, almost jumping in his seat. “oh, you’re back already? how’d it go?” “it didn’t go,” peter huffs, copying down the aim. he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to look ned in the eyes while telling him he bailed. again.

“you didn’t do it?” ned repeats, peter writing something about pi and a unit circle in his notebook. he bites the inside of his cheek. “you have to do it at some point,” ned sighs out and picks up his pencil. even he’s getting tired of this, and ned never gets tired of a good friends to lovers moment. “i think she likes harry,” peter says under his breath. “huh?” ned gasps.

peter doesn’t feel like explaining the extremely awkward moment he just finished living. although, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. “y/n. he came over, and they kept hugging and whatever.” “they always do that,” ned almost scoffs, their trigonometry teacher moving to stand in front of the class. “yeah, but he had his arm around her the whole time we-“

the bell rings and cuts their conversation short. peter struggles to label the unit circle they learn about when his mind is filled to its capacity with images of you and harry all over each other. it’s not daydreaming. this is a nightmare. maybe, he actually will be having sleep problems.

peter’s morning is relatively decent after that. he gets to do an experiment with mj in chemistry, and she lets him take the lead for once. spanish is easy, health is okay, then he has a free period, then it’s lunch. things can only go downhill from here.

he thinks about hiding in the library until it’s over, but it’s the thought of harry eating your face that gets him to drag himself to the cafeteria.

flash is at the head of your table talking to harry when peter gets there. great, now he can’t eat his soggy chicken fingers in peace. “sounds dope. let’s go on the-“ flash stops saying what he was saying and nods at peter. “penis parker, you’re late.” peter takes his seat on your left, harry on your right. you glance over at him to make sure he’s okay. he acts like he doesn’t care, peeling open his milk carton.

“just text me later, man. get outta here,” harry dismisses flash, the two of them doing a bro handshake before he leaves. he’s well aware of his and peter’s history. he keeps them separate for the obvious reasons. peter appreciates it because saying no to flash is nearly impossible. he shouldn’t be so mad at harry, should he? he’s a good friend.

harry’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you closer to him. never mind.

“who’s up for sushi later?” he asks the table, everyone agreeing and saying how awesome that sounds. everyone except peter. you tap his shoulder with a small smile. “what about you, peter? you coming?” he realizes you’re all waiting for him to respond and puts down his milk. “uh, i can’t. homework,” he lamely answers.

“dude, we have homework, too. just do it a little later,” ned suggests, betty laying her head on his shoulder. you share a look with her, your eyes wide and a grin on your lips. that must have been what you were talking about this morning. she asked for boy advice. ned advice. why can’t this crap work out for peter?

“i really can’t. sorry, guys,” peter half heartedly apologizes.

he misses the disappointment that crosses your features because he’s pouting at his lunch again.

“homework, huh?” mj tests him, squinting as she takes a sip of apple juice. harry nudges peter’s side with two fingers. “you still mad about the sleeping thing?” “sleeping thing? what sleeping thing?” betty wonders while ned rests his head against hers. a quiet laugh slips out of you as you lean in to tell her.

“peter said he couldn’t sleep last night, so harry offered him...” you mime rolling a joint. “i said no,” peter clarifies, rolling his eyes at the inevitable teasing he’s about to get. none of you have even smoked besides harry. you’re being annoying about it. “of course you did,” mj sighs and kicks her feet up on the table. “unrelated to what y/n just said... harry, i have insomnia.”

everyone bursts into laughter at that, betty shoving her side and you pulling harry by his torso as he pretends to go into his backpack. peter wants nothing to do with any of this. he usually enjoys joking around with the group, even if it’s at his expense because it’s from a place of love.

today feels like you’re straight up making fun of him. harry might as well invite flash to join in.

“alright, alright, alright. enough of the weed talk,” harry decides, you removing your arms from him and grabbing your coffee. “you’re such a bad influence.” your voice drips with sarcasm. you bend the straw and take a sip while scooting closer to peter. “you really can’t come later? i feel like i’ve barely seen you today.” that’s on harry. “i wish i could, y/n/n,” peter exhales. “i’ll text you later, okay?”

you don’t get to answer because mj tugs on your arm, distracting you from peter. she explains how she has to do an art project on what it means to be a woman and needs help brainstorming ideas. you’re full of them, offering up an interesting perspective for her to use. peter smiles to himself as he listens in. you find a new way to impress him every day.

he should tell you that.

“hey, y/n?” “listen to her! you’re seriously my idol,” betty gushes, so loudly you don’t hear peter. not a single thing has gone in his favor at this table. he gives up.

peter locks himself in his room when he gets home from his overall terrible day. he does homework like he said he would, only taking a break for dinner, giving one word replies to may’s questions about school. he’d much rather be having sushi with you. he would’ve gone if the others didn’t.

after dinner, it’s back to grumbling and scribbling down answers. there’s a knock at peter’s door around ten o’clock, which he assumes is may saying goodnight. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, may! love you.” “it’s y/n,” you reply, the smile clear in your voice. his eyes go comically wide. that’s the last thing he expected to hear. “oh. uh, come in.”

you’re holding a small takeout bag, shutting the door behind you and walking over to his desk. you meet his twinkling eyes in the dim light that hits off his walls. from his open window, you faintly hear cars as they rush by and honk their horns in the distance, accompanied by a fresh breeze. it’s cozy, safe. it’s peter.

“hey. what’re you doing here?” peter questions, leaving his pencil in his binder and shutting it. you shake around the plastic bag. “i saved you a roll.” he bites back a smile, getting up from his chair. “may let me in. she was really chill about it,” you continue and hold out the sushi for him. “it’s a california roll. i wasn’t sure what you wanted, and everyone likes those.”

peter lets his smile spread out and takes the bag from you. “thanks, y/n/n. i was honestly hoping one of you would have leftovers.” you laugh softly, peter setting the bag down on his desk. he scratches the back of his neck. “did you guys have fun?” “yeah. i missed you, though.” you clasp your hands behind your back. “everyone did.”

“i feel bad i didn’t go. just... things felt off today,” peter admits the real reason he stayed home, you letting out a breath. “it was harry, wasn’t it? god, he was being so weird.” your arms drop back to your sides. “there’s a difference between playing around and actually upsetting people.” by people, you mean peter. no one else seemed too bothered by him. “i’m sorry, peter. i tried to make him stop.”

“no, you don’t have to apologize,” peter assures you sweetly, grabbing one of your hands. “it’s not your fault, okay? he probably didn’t realize what he was doing. the jokes landed.” he’s referring to ned, mj, and betty finding harry’s comments hilarious. you lace your fingers with peter’s and frown. “this isn’t like him. maybe he’s stressed about a game.” your gaze drifts off to the side, what you see getting you to perk up.

“is that new?” you ask peter, leading him by his hand over to a poster he put up recently. it’s for 13 going on 30. you showed it to him a couple of weeks ago, and he clearly liked it a lot. any movie that makes it to peter’s wall is a special one. “mhm. i got it literally right after you went home the night we watched,” he chuckles and looks over at you while you study the poster.

you turn to face peter again, keeping your hand tight in his. “were you gonna tell me something earlier? at lunch?” he’s confused for a second, then he remembers your ideas for mj’s art project. the fact that you cared enough to bring it up after all these hours makes his stomach do summersaults in the best way. he shrugs and gives you a smile.

“the stuff you were saying about femininity and how there are so many ways to define it,” peter starts, you grinning back at him, at how he took an interest in what you were saying. “you’re so smart, y/n. you make me wanna be better.” a light pink dusts his cheeks. “peter, you’re a feminist?” you coo, joking but genuinely wondering at the same time. he squeezes your hand. “duh.”

“i thought so,” you nod, taking in the rest of what he said. “you think i’m smart? i trust you because you’re way smarter.” peter pffts in response. “i’m only good at, like, physics. you’re good at things that really matter. smart in that way.” you’re feeling your own face get hot. you swing yours and peter’s hands back and forth. “why are you the nicest person ever?”

the answer to that, may, peeks her head into the room. “hey, kids. it’s getting late.” she notices your intertwined hands and shoots peter a smirk. “i thought you were a cool aunt,” he teases, you sadly letting go of him. “she is. thanks for having me over so late,” you tell may on your way to the door. “oh, stop it. you can come over any time.” she puts a hand on your arm. “thank you so much,” you murmur back.

you walk backwards to the doorway, may leaving you two to say your goodbyes. “wanna hang out only you and me? on friday maybe?” that should make up for everything earlier. “yeah, of course. friday is perfect,” peter agrees and bounces on his feet as excitement takes over him. “thanks again for the sushi.”

“no problem. goodnight.” it’s taking every last bit of power in you to not freak out. “night. text me when you get home.” he presses his tongue into his cheek. you slowly pull the door shut. “ok, i will. bye!” it closes, leaving peter skipping across his room to his bed on one side and you doing a little happy dance on the other.

the next day at school, everything is back to normal. honestly, better than normal. your hangout with peter is tomorrow, and he’s planning on telling he likes you then. he already talked it over with ned. he’s relieved it’s finally happening, especially since him and betty have their own thing. she’ll be taking up most of his free time from here.

your group is spending lunch outside today, lounging across a picnic table, surrounded by trees and the shining sun in a bright blue sky. mj sits on the table and has her feet on the bench, which would usually bug peter to no end. he doesn’t mind this time because it takes up enough room that harry has to sit with ned and betty instead of you. you lean into peter’s side and stab a piece of lettuce from your salad.

“it’s so nice out,” betty sighs, ripping off half her cookie and giving it to ned. “we should ditch.” “oh my god, you sound like harry,” you groan between bites of salad. peter lets out a breathy laugh, you looping your arm through his. he grins down at where you’re linked. harry crosses his own arms over his chest. “she wishes.” betty only nods because her mouth is full of m&m’s.

“nah, seriously. i’d take us out somewhere, but i have practice after school.” he speaks quieter than he normally does, less confident. your theory about him having basketball drama was right. “what did we tell you? talk about the sports shit with your sports friends,” mj complains, sitting back on her hands. she glances at harry over her shoulder and catches ned mouthing you can’t say that.

sitting criss cross, she spins around to face harry, unenthusiastically saying, “what i meant was, you sound upset. what’s wrong?” harry gets into it right away, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “coach says there might be a scout at the next game. it’s a really good opportunity even though i don’t have to worry about... college yet.” the word makes him cringe.

“oh, damn. that’s a big deal. scary,” mj snorts, turning back to you and peter. her behavior makes ned internally face palm. “that’s awesome, dude. you’re gonna play amazing like always.” he gives harry a high five, who smiles nervously in response. he’s never nervous. “thanks, bro. you guys wanna come and watch?” he’s never invited you to one of his games before either.

this isn’t a group of friends that likes to spend their weekends in bleachers while angry teens shout around them.

“definitely. we’ll be there to support you, harry,” betty answers for everyone, ned pecking her cheek in satisfaction. mj cusses to herself before replying. “if i absolutely must, sure.” only you and peter haven’t said anything yet. he’s been chewing his lower lip, and you your salad. harry looks between you two hopefully. it’s more so at you, which peter doesn’t like.

“y/n? pete? it would help a lot, i’m serious.” he taps his fingers on the table until one of you speaks up. you’re the one who does. “i’ll go. this is pretty huge, right? congrats.” you reach across the table and squeeze his shoulder while simultaneously tightening your arm around peter’s. he takes that as a cue. “i’ll go, too. happy for you, man.”

though peter isn’t currently in the best place with harry, he should show his support by showing up. it can’t be too bad since the rest of you will be there.

a loud, long chuckle leaves harry as he hops up from his bench and comes to yours and peter’s. he bends over and wraps both of you in a hug from behind at the same time. his arms are around each of your shoulders, holding you so close his cheeks are squished against either of your heads. you giggle at that, peter finding himself laughing along and reaching back to ruffle harry’s hair.

staying mad at him is one of the world’s greatest challenges.

“you’re saints, both of you. my angels.” he kisses the back of your head, then lays one right on peter’s cheek, leaving him blushing red and grinning. “what about the rest of us? i never go to shit like this,” mj huffs and seems genuinely offended. harry wiggles his eyebrows. “you want a kiss?” his offer gets her flustered, which she can’t manage to hide. that’s a first.

“shut up. i’m just saying... never mind.” mj glares at you and peter, ned and betty making kissing noises behind her. “someone change the subject.” peter steps in. “when’s the game, harry?” he asks, harry snapping and waving his finger. “tomorrow! cancel your plans, kiddos.” “like we had any,” betty retorts.

some of you did. that was going to be peter’s hangout with you.

ned smiles sympathetically at peter before betty is getting his attention. you‘re unfazed and rambling to harry how proud you are of him.

did last night mean nothing? was it an empty gesture? were you only doing it out of guilt? peter must have read your visit wrong. he’s been wrong the whole time he’s liked you. you don’t like him back, you pity him. harry is who you’re really interested in.

may always says he should trust his instincts.

peter pulls his arm from yours suddenly, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. you’re taken back because it’s so out of no where. you stop talking to harry so you can figure out his deal. “where are you going?” “bell’s gonna ring,” peter mumbles and picks up his lunch tray. he heads to the garbage can without another word or goodbye to anyone.

“i’m gonna go check on him,” you tell harry, already getting up from the bench. “you do that,” he acknowledges and calls mj’s name again.

peter tosses his mostly untouched food in the trash, seeing you make your way over from the corner of his eye. he tries to speed walk inside so he doesn’t have to talk to you. you’re too quick, cornering him between the door and brick wall.

“we still have ten minutes,” you state, worry flashing across your face. he’s avoiding you. well, attempting to. “what’s wrong?” peter gulps before saying anything. “my next class is on the other side of the-“ “no,” you cut him off. “what’s really wrong?”

he doesn’t feel like having this discussion. it’s bad enough he came to the realization his feelings are one sided. must he break that down for you so soon?

you toy with your sleeve while you speak because peter doesn’t. “i thought you and harry were fine again. i mean, he kissed you.” peter clenches his jaw so hard he can imagine the sound of it cracking. “it’s not about harry.” “what, then? what the fuck happened?” your sleeves are now balled in your fists. you hate it when peter does this angsty routine.

he keeps his voice low and calm so he doesn’t come off as jealous or hurt. he’s both of those things. “the game is tomorrow. friday. when we were supposed to hang out.” you meet peter’s eyes with nothing but remorse in yours. “i... i forgot,” is all you have to say.

you feel awful. he’s had a tough couple of days, and you fell through on your promise to cheer him up.

“clearly,” peter remarks, voice sharp. the way you’re looking at him makes him think he won’t like what’s coming. “peter, we have to go,” you almost whine. “i’m really sorry, i am, but this is a big night for harry. he needs us there.” peter stays silent. you’re twisting the knife deeper into him with every word. “i wouldn’t be cancelling if this wasn’t important.”

now you’re cancelling?

you reach for peter’s hand, but he shoves it into his pocket. that stings for you and him. “please, peter. we’ll hang out at the game, i swear.” this is the last chance you’ve got, so you pile it on. “harry won’t even be there, technically. he’ll... he’ll be on the court.” peter hadn’t thought about that. he lets himself unclench, starting to see the appeal. you add one more thing to lighten the mood and persuade him.

“i’ll buy you popcorn, all you can eat.” it’s that easy. cracking a smile, peter accepts. he’ll deal with his unresolved, unreciprocated feelings after he stuffs his face, courtesy of you. “you better. i’m gonna need it for this long ass game.” your face lights up, grabbing his wrist in both hands.

“so, you’ll come?” “i’ll be there,” he confirms. you throw your arms around his neck. he laughs into the hug and holds you by your middle. “i promise this’ll be the first and last game we ever go to,” you say and mean it. harry is lucky you’re even suffering through this a first time. “thank god,” peter exhales, resting his chin on your head.

that interaction leaves peter confused as hell. you’re crushing his mind and soul one minute, then hugging him the next. you were making him feel so special lasts night, and treating harry the same way today. it’s so jumbled that he isn’t sure if he’s in the friend zone or something more zone.

there are a ton of mixed signals coming his way, and he sucks at reading people as is.

he can’t take another second of this. he’d rather you come out and say you like harry already because it’s torture. knowing you don’t want him in that way would at least eliminate the possibility of anything happening between you two, and allow him to stop driving himself insane.

he’d be able to stop taking it out on harry, too.

the hold you have on peter, that you’re oblivious to, rules his every thought and decision. he’s constantly analyzing what you say to him, debating whether or not your affection is simply platonic. it’s been half a year of this madness, the night of harry’s game blurring every line so much more.

your group arrives a bit early to find seats and hype harry up before he plays. peter gets there after all of you because he’s not exactly in a rush to watch sweaty guys be aggressive. there’s only one upside, which is spending the night with you... and everyone else.

he steps into the gym that’s filling up fast with family members, friends, and the college scout harry was talking about. midtown has a different feeling to it at night. the smell of pencils is oddly stronger, and it’s a lot less intimidating.

cheerleaders are huddled in a circle while the team supervisor has them run their chants. the “leading official,” who peter thought was called a referee, takes his place off to the side. coaches give their players last minute instructions, players fool around with each other, a lot is going on.

peter scans the room for you, and grins a toothy grin when you catch his eyes. you’re sitting by yourself in one of the middle bleachers, only a bag of skinny pop in your lap. you return the smile once you spot him and wave him over.

“i don’t know why, but i thought they’d have an actual concession stand,” you explain the lack of fresh, buttery popcorn as peter takes a seat next to you. he catches the prepackaged bag you toss him. “it’s just a snack table.” “works either way,” peter hums and pokes the bag. “i’m not sure skinny pop is all i can eat, though.” “it’s good!” you defend the snack you chose for him.

“i’m kidding! you’re right, it’s kind of addicting.” he puts it by his feet for now and gives you a half smile. “you’re welcome,” you deadpan in a playful tone. “thanks.” he narrows his eyes. “where’s everyone else?” “right,” you twist around and gesture to the bleacher above you. mj is gloomily seated near the back. ned and betty are a few behind you.

“i told them to find their own seats so we can sit together, alone.” you look over at peter and move ever so slightly closer. “welcome to our friday hangout. just the two of us.” “aw, you didn’t have to do that,” peter laughs out, his knee bumping yours. “but, i’m happy you did.” he goes to put an arm around you, then harry comes racing up the stairs.

just the two of you didn’t last so long.

“y/n, i’m freaking out,” harry announces, zooming through your row to get over to you. he stops once he’s standing in front of peter and shakes him by his shoulder. “hey, pete. you made it.” “yup,” peter replies, pressing his lips together. you wince at his reaction, then quirk an eyebrow at harry. “you’re freaking out? why?”

harry sits down between you and peter, blissfully unaware of the moment he interrupted.

“i found the scout. he’s fucking terrifying as fuck. this super ripped guy, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else,” he talks quietly, like the man will hear him. “he’s not the only one,” peter says to himself, kicking around his bag of popcorn to pass time. you ignore him and grimace.

“shit. wait, how do you know it’s him? did they tell you?” you’re not sure how these things go. harry casually shrugs a shoulder. “dude has a clipboard. seems legit to me.” he gives you a cocky smile. “he’s also in the row before mj. that’s how i noticed. um...” his back now facing peter, he whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle.

peter’s face scrunches up as the spark of anger the past few days have lit reignites itself.

when harry pulls away, you motion for him to come closer with your index finger, cupping your hand around his ear and speaking into it.

nope, no more. peter is entirely about to explode. you cancelled your plans so you can force him to watch basketball, you sweet talk him so he’ll let it go, and you’re running right back to harry after all of that? what the hell does that mean?

peter stands up from his seat. “y/n, we need to talk,” he demands, you moving away from harry to respond. “ok, gimme a minute. we’re-“ “no, we need to talk now.” you don’t have time to refute because he’s taking your arm and dragging you away. harry squints at you in utter confusion.

“um, have a good game! we’ll talk later,” you call back to him, walking with peter even though you have no idea what his issue is and aren’t a fan of how he’s acting.

he releases you once you’re in the hallway. you make a point of harshly yanking your arm back, a scowl painting your lips. “jesus, peter. i was having a conversation.” “do you like harry?” peter blurts out. you’re so shocked at his abruptness that you don’t give him much to work with, only, “what?” “do you like harry?” he asks you again, this time less accusing and more curious.

“do i like...” you’re too aware of the seemingly hundreds of people surrounding you to answer comfortably. “can we talk about this somewhere else?” “sure,” peter nods, letting you lead the way since he did to get out here. you two go down the hall and choose the first room you see, which happens to be the custodian’s closet. it’s thankfully unlocked.

things were tense between you and peter on the way over, and it’s physically mirrored when you step into the room, air thick and smelling of lemon cleaning supplies. you tug on the string hanging down to turn on the light. it casts a faded glow, leaving you in mostly darkness. you sort of like it. this feels more intimate, which is fitting for what you’re both about to say.

neither one of you knows where to begin. peter’s question is ringing in the back of your mind, and you could touch on that, but there’s more to it than a simple yes or no. you don’t have to worry about it because peter gets his words out first.

“i think harry likes you, and i think you like him back,” peter restarts, already sounding deflated by what he came up with. “he doesn’t, and i don’t.” you take a step towards him. “he likes mj.” it’s peter’s turn to be shocked. the hint of a smile sets on your lips. “that’s what we were talking about. harry asked if he should take her to dinner after the game, and i said yes.”

this is going better than he expected.

“mj is the one who likes him, not me,” you reiterate and watch some life enter peter again, a tiny bit. he’s coming around, and he wants to believe you. his trust issues don’t. “but, you’re so... touchy with each other. the hugging the other day?” he mentions. you tilt your head to the side in amusement. “friends can’t hug?”

to be fair, you hugged peter yesterday. that’s a point rightfully shut down.

“he calls you pretty,” peter tries, raising both eyebrows. you have to laugh at this one. “you call may pretty.”

obviously, peter’s analysis skills could use some serious improvements. it sounds like he had the right idea, wrong person. your relationship with harry is platonic. hell, he’s crushing on a whole different person. this actually opens up the possibility of you liking peter in the romantic way, of him being in the something more zone. he had it backwards.

in case peter isn’t convinced yet, and because you really want to, you use one more trick to prove to him you don’t like harry.

“do me and harry do this?” your lips speak for you, colliding with peter’s unexpectedly yet easily. he feels like he’s floating, like he’s in some sort of magical wonderland until it hits him that this is real, and he should probably kiss you back. he does so softly and tangles his fingers in your locks. his hand supports the back of your head as the kiss goes on.

you push forward so your bodies are almost fused together, the closest you can be while you hold his jaw. peter breaks the kiss for a short breather, going back in without more than a moment passing. this one is feverish, his free arm looping around your lower back, hand resting on the small of it. you let out a giggle against his swollen lips and stroke your thumb over his jawline.

he’s been waiting to do this for the longest time, but he doesn’t have to tell you that. it shows in how eager he was to reciprocate, his shyness blossoming into passion. you feel yourself melting under his touch, the kiss eventually becoming a series of short pecks. peter gives you the final one. his pink lips form a grin when you pull apart. your hands stay on each other, not in a rush to go anywhere.

“woah, i like you so much,” peter laughs out. the words roll off his tongue naturally. “you know i like you,” you drawl, smiling at him, a full body smile while you caress his skin. he winds both arms around you and dips his head down to steal another kiss. you’re loving what’s happening. however, you don’t feel like making out while dirty brooms stare at you. you should take this back home.

“wanna get out of here? i do,” you suggest, voice muffled from his lips. they detach from yours and brush your cheek gently. peter makes a funny face. “hm, i thought we had to come. harry needs us,” he says what you did yesterday, earning a groan back. “you’re joking.” “i’m not. what kind of friends would we be, ditching him like that?”

he’s going to end you one day.

“yeah, no. i have no idea how basketball works, and i’d like to keep it that way,” peter drops the act, pressing his fingers into your sides. “i’ve been so mean to harry. i was...” “a dick?” you finish for him. it’s more of a statement than a question. to soften the blow, you rub his cheek with the tips of your fingers. “yup. he’s gonna think i hate him or something if we don’t stay.” his formerly smiley face is frowning.

“harry of all people will understand after we tell him our reasons,” you reassure him, nudging under his chin with your nose. “besides, he has other things to worry about. mj, the scout. it’s fine.” peter considers it, ultimately giving in to you like he always does, resting his forehead on yours. “i guess so. less distractions for him, yeah.” “exactly. that’s what i wanna hear.”

having his approval, you unwind yourself from him and head to the door. his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “what about my popcorn?” a giggle escapes your lips. “you’re still on that?” “you said all i can eat!” his voice comes out high pitched, adorably high pitched.

“fine. i might have those bags you put in the microwave.” you smile when his fingers lock with yours, peter kissing the side of your head.

“even better. let’s go home.”

[murswrites]

One in The Same ⎯ Tobias Eaton Headcanon

Pairings: Tobias Eaton x Reader Fandom: Divergent MASTERLIST Warnings: Cursing? SUMMARY: [see request] Request from anon: hiii- so um, if requests are open, could i please request a fic or a headcanon for tobias eaton?? if not that’s totally fine! so- for a headcanon/fic i was thinking something along the lines of tobias slowly becoming comfortable with the reader? like, he’ll start to share small things about him the more they hangout, and eventually he tells the reader his feelings for them?? ahh i hope this makes sense- thank you!! <3

A/N I think I’ve forgotten how to write headcanons y’all... this is deadass 1k words. Also this request is so cute, I hope this is suitable <3 Can we please normalize calling guys pretty 🥺

It started off with little things that made Four intrigued by you

Firstly, you being a transfer from Amity to Dauntless of all factions

Secondly, despite being raised to be kind, you were the most ruthless of initiates

And lastly, you had a way of drawing attention to yourself; either intentional or not that made you seem magnetic to Four

You two didn’t really meet until after you were properly welcomed as a member of the Dauntless faction

The two of you both worked in security, you weren’t a good leader and you enjoyed technology even if Amity wasn’t the most “techy” faction

It was easy working beside Four, he wasn’t annoying or arrogant which you found to be very refreshing

“All of the others here think they’re better than me, it’s crazy.” (You)

Small talk wasn’t your forte but the silence in the room was deafening

“Tell me about it,” (Four)

He knew a thing or two about arrogant assholes, one always came to mind; Eric Coulter

After that, you two began hanging out together

Sitting beside each other during meals became routine, it was convenient especially when you had to tell him something in regards to work

“I was thinking of getting a tattoo, want to join me?”  (You)

You skipped out on tattoos when the other initiates got them, it didn’t feel right at the time

“Sure, what’re you getting?” (Four)

“I dunno, it’ll be my first.” (You)

After that, Four looks at you differently

He honestly expected you to dive headfirst into “Dauntless life” to prove you were worthy because you came from Amity

The trip to the tattoo parlor was one of many times you two spent time together outside of work

“Being in Amity was so weird, I’ve always been sort of angry by nature so it was hell trying to be peaceful.” (You)

“You don’t seem angry,” (Four)

“Oh 16 years of standing in the corner will do that to a person.” (You)

Things never got that personal, but when the conversation felt too close to home (for either of you) one of you quickly switched topics

Your friendship worked well in that way

“One time I put a frog in my cousin’s bed and had to do like a hundred hours of community service. I was nine.” (You)

“My old faction as a whole wasn’t horrible. But I didn’t fit in well…” (Four)

“Same here, least we got each other right?” (You)

It became obvious to Four that you two were more alike than he originally realized

Two people from similar factions with similar upbringings… both having grown up feeling out of place

Four realized his feelings for you were turning into something more when you made him a cake for his birthday

Your bright smile and messy apron made him stop in his tracks, surprised

“Dauntless chocolate cake for my favorite person’s birthday!” (You)

“How’d you know?” (Four)

“You mentioned it when we first met, how’s it feel to be an old man, Four?” (You)

That night was something different, stargazing after watching a movie felt so intimate with Four, but so comfortable at the same time

“No one’s ever made me a cake before.” (Four)

“Not even your mom?” (You)

You found out she passed soon after and instead of asking more questions like usual, you just kept him company

“I never really considered leaving Amity until I got my aptitude test results,” (You)

“What’d you get?” (Four)

“Dauntless, duh.” (You)

Four had laughed at that, you always surprised him with your random sarcastic outbursts or remarks

“Bet it came as a surprise.” (Four)

“Not really, if anything I was thankful for a way out. Despite their appearance, Amity isn’t as beautiful as they claim to be.” (You)

Four genuinely recognized his feelings when you and some initiates from your group invited him to some shenanigans, he hadn’t done anything like that since he transferred, but you were adamant

“Come on, it’ll be fun! I did this on like my third night here and nearly died but it was so worth it!” (You)

It actually turned out to be fun, the same game of capture the flag but in a different area of the city

Four was on your team (luckily) and you two were taking people out left and right

When you saved him by taking down one of the enemies, he watched in awe at how good you were (man is WHIPPED)

That was the first night you crashed at his place because you were so tired

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow, mkay?” (You)

You made him breakfast in the morning, it wasn’t anything spectacular just something to repay him for giving up his bed

“Nobody’s made me breakfast in like ten years.” (Four)

“That sucks, but I’m glad I could be that person…” (You)

Neither of you spoke after that, it was like the energy in the air after the game of capture the flag completely changed

It wasn’t uncomfortable, just… heavy… with things unsaid

I feel like Four would keep himself from being nice all of a sudden since it would be weird if he suddenly changed up on you

But he found it hard because your company made him happy

At one point he told you his real name, out of the blue, he just asked if you’d start calling him it when it was just you two

“Call me Tobias,” (Four)

“Why would I call you that, your name’s Four-- Oh... that’s your real name isn’t it? Hmm, it’s nice, serious just like you.” (You)

He would often catch himself staring at you as you spoke or enjoying the sound of your voice

“Tobias? You there?” (You)

You’d caught him staring and it made him get really embarrassed

It was weird seeing Four flustered and struggling to find the right words, you were usually the less composed one

“Are you okay? You look like you’re having an allergic reaction, staring is normal. I do it all the time.” (You)

This would confuse Four, you stared at him? No… that couldn’t be true, could it?

“What I meant to say was--” (You)

“What?” (Four)

Now things felt awkward, those unsaid words were heavy in the air; both of you knew but didn’t want to ruin a nice thing (your friendship)

“I stare at you… because you’re pretty.” (You)

“Never been called pretty before,” (Four)

“Well… you are, very pretty.” (You)

“You’re prettier but I’ll take it.” (Four)

His sudden confidence came out of nowhere but he was definitely thankful for it

“You think I’m pretty?” (You)

“I think you’re great… in general… it’s weird but I feel comfortable to be myself around you,” (Four)

“That’s not weird, I feel the same.” (You)

Things didn’t change all too much after that, neither of you wanted to rush into things because your friendship was too beautiful to ruin by making a mistake

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IX

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 14.3k

Warnings: timeskip, mutual pining, author doesn’t know shit about science subject matter, explicit sexual content, ass play, snowballing, tooth rotting fluff A/N: This is it, y’all. This last part was so much fun to write, I can’t even put it into words. The feedback on this has been incredible, so a big thank you for that, and before anyone asks, I have a handful of spinoff oneshots planned for this series. Enjoy~

- NINE YEARS -

“Hey, don’t forget about the meeting at three.”

 Mike glances up from his computer to find Henning leaning through his office doorway. It’s the first time Mike has looked away from the screen in at least an hour, and he blinks at his colleague several times in an attempt to get rid of the gritty feeling in his eyes.

 “Yeah, thanks,” he nods, rubbing a hand down his face. “Definitely would’ve forgotten about that one.”

 Henning leaves with one rap of his knuckles against the doorframe, and Mike checks his phone to see how much time he has before he has to make his way to the conference room. It’s twenty after two, so he spends a little while longer reading over the journal that had been sent to him, only tearing himself away when his alarm goes off at 2:55. 

 He waves at a few people as he passes, shows the reserved smile he’d mastered upon entering the corporate world, then walks into the large meeting space and sets his little notepad on the mahogany table as he sits down in a plush rolling chair. 

 This meeting has been planned for a few weeks now, a team of researchers contracted by the government to study Lake Sina and everything wrong with it. Its water quality is at an all time low, and it's up to Mike and his team to figure out a way to change that so it can be purified enough to distribute to the public. There are a few large cities close to the lake, all of lower income and all struggling with their water systems. If Sina can get clean enough, it would solve a huge crisis that most people don't even know is taking place. 

 Tomas, Henning, Lynne, and Nanaba are already in the room, and after a few minutes, another group of four walks in, all unfamiliar except…

 Mike’s eyebrows knit together as he stares. He can only see a profile from where he’s sitting, but it’s one he recognizes. The time he spent admiring it, mentally sketching every feature—of course he’d recognize it. Recognize you.

 There is a pounding in his chest that Mike hasn’t felt in years, and his palms are suddenly damp. The collar of his shirt is too tight around his throat, and he reaches up to undo the top two buttons so that he can fucking breathe, but Jesus Christ, he can’t believe it. It feels like a lifetime has passed since he last saw you. 

 He wonders if you’ll have the same reaction when you finally notice him, if you’ll gawk at him or grin or run away. He wouldn’t blame you if you tucked tail. That last conversation—if it could even be called that—is not one of Mike’s fondest memories, and he can’t imagine the toll it took on you, what you must have felt going into your final year of undergrad. 

 “Is there a remote for the projector?” You call out to the table, and your voice sounds exactly the fucking same. It makes Mike want to slam his head into the wood, but before he can, you zero in on him. 

 He watches as your eyes grow, jaw setting, shoulders rising with a deep breath, and oh, you’re panicking. You’re panicking just like he is.

 “Um,” you cough and shake your head, then lean over to speak to one of your people before basically jogging from the room.

 No one seems to think anything of it. Mike has to white-knuckle the arms of his chair to keep himself from getting up and following. There's no reason he should follow, though. The two of you haven’t spoken in almost a decade. He has nothing to share with you, no reason to talk to you on a non-professional level. You don’t know each other anymore, and that’s fine. It’ll be fine. 

 A mousy looking man starts passing out little binders to everyone at the table, then introduces himself as Moblit and the other two in the room as Hange and Abel. 

 "And, the other girl you saw is—"

 "I'm back, I'm here," you announce as you step into the room, closing the door behind you and introducing yourself with a wave. "Did we get the projector working?" 

 "Yes," Abel answers, passing you the remote that Nanaba had procured a few minutes ago. 

 Hange plugs a cable into a laptop and the white screen is lit up with the image of the well known lake, once beautiful, deep blue but now a murky brown. 

 Mike has been preparing for this project for a few months now, going to an off-site lab to look over the samples being sent in or dropped off. He knew there was a research team studying the lake, but… what are the odds that you would be part of that team? 

 He supposes your jobs could overlap just like your classes used to, but you had told him you wanted to go into natural hazards ("You're a natural hazard," he had replied with a snort). Of course, that had been a long time ago, but how had that dream morphed into hydrology? 

 Before the presentation starts, Mike's boss, Keith Shadis slips through the door and takes his seat at the end of the table. You're quick to grab one of the binders and walk it over to him, flashing a smile and never letting your gaze flit to Mike. 

 Hange does most of the talking, going over all of your findings while all of you "braved the wilderness". Moblit and Abel insert a few things here and there, and then Hange clicks to a slide with a graph on it and hands the remote to you. 

 "If you turn to page seventeen in the binders, you can probably get a better look, but this shows how much the level of pollution in Lake Sina has risen in the last year alone. We took samples over…"

 You keep talking, but Mike loses his focus, watching your hands move as you speak, the way you're rocking back on your heels, and how you look anywhere but at him. 

 Even though there's a tiny tremble in your voice, you sound passionate, and why wouldn't you be? Mike is passionate too. About the same god damn thing. 

 With a PhD in environmental science, his specialty is pollutants. It's something he's been interested in since grad school because the earth is beautiful but in an awful state, and Mike wants to fucking change that. He's written journals and articles, worked with leading experts, and it's what he's decided to dedicate himself to, so why is it that this life that he's built for himself is suddenly intermingling with yours? How—

 A hand comes to rest on Mike's and he startles at the touch, jerking his head upward to see Lynne with raised eyebrows. 

 "Mike, I get why you're lost in the pollution sauce, but if you click that pen one more time, I will throw you out of this high-rise."

 He stares at her for a second before chuckling and tossing his pen onto his blank notebook. He hadn't even realized he'd been doing it. It's a little embarrassing, actually. How many people noticed? Did you? 

 The presentation ends with Hange telling everyone that they're happy to be teaming up with the Corporation to work toward a solution and a plan to clean Lake Sina and possibly implement it into larger bodies of water.

 The planning stage of the project will more than likely last for a few months, meaning you'll all be regulars in the office which Mike isn't especially thrilled about, even if you will be sequestered in a little annex and spending a lot of your time in the lab. Mike will still have to see you and work with your team, god, probably have to talk to you. 

 The floor opens up for any questions, but Shadis is the only one who speaks, wanting clarification on some statistic that Mike is going to have to read over later. Once the boss is happy, he stands, then walks behind Mike's chair to slap him on the back and say the last thing Mike wants to hear.

 "This is Dr. Mike Zacharias. All of you should get familiar with him since he'll be heading this project."

 Mike sits up a little straighter and forces a tight-lipped smile that all of his colleagues know is fake. 

 "Happy to be working with you." 

 It isn't a lie. He's been excited about this project for a long time now. He just wasn't expecting such a massive wrench to get thrown right into the middle of it. 

 The four of you start packing up your materials. When Henning tries to hand you his binder, you tell him, "No, those are for you to keep. Just to get a real grasp on what we found out there."

 Mike knows he's staring, swiveling back and forth in his chair, twirling the pen he's picked up again, and he wonders if it would just be easier to rip the bandaid off. Exchange hellos, go over the bare minimum—how long he's been with the company, how long you've been researching. Just enough to appear casual, like you didn't break Mike's fucking heart in college. 

 And, then he thinks about just avoiding you altogether. There's always the chance your issues could come up in conversation, and it's so far in the past now, there's nothing either of you can say to make the other feel better. This can't be about closure. It's just a job. That's all. 

 "Wow, everyone really… cleared outta here."

 Mike's vision unfogs, and he glances around to find that yes, you're the only two left in the conference room. Fantastic. 

 You're wrapping a cord around your elbow then shoving it in a laptop bag, and he can tell you're moving as fast as you can, ready to get the fuck out of there. 

 "Uh, yeah," Mike agrees, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing his notebook to curl in his hands. "Everyone's just ready to get back to work, I guess."

 "Yeah. You can only hold someone's attention with a PowerPoint for so long."

 Mike's mouth is too dry, and it feels like he needs to cough, but he doesn't want to startle you, so he just quietly clears his throat in an entirely ineffective way and tells you, "Good PowerPoint, though."

 You snicker, not loud enough to hear your real laugh, and Mike doesn't know if he's grateful for that or not. 

 "Thanks. Mobs made it."

 Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you finally look up at Mike—really look at him for the first time—and he sees your expression go soft, mouth twitching like you’re caught between smiling and frowning, and Mike is taken back to the first night he met you when he wanted you to shotgun that disgusting beer. 

 You blink at him, open and close your mouth, and Mike is waiting with baited breath for you to say something else, but all you do is hold your hand out for him to take the projector remote from you. 

 "Here."

 He grabs it with two fingers, careful not to brush your hand. Fuck, he wishes his heart would stop beating so hard, it's incredibly uncomfortable. 

 "I feel like I should say something," you murmur, "But I have no idea what, so I'm just gonna tell you I look forward to working with you, Dr. Zacharias."

 He grins. Widely. He doesn't mean to, but he does. It's been so damn long since anyone has said his last name like that. 

 "Do you, though?" He asks. 

 "Do I what?"

 "Look forward to working here."

 "Oh, uh…" You bite your lip, start rocking on your feet again, then shrug. "I guess? I mean… Big project."

 "Very big."

 "It's important to me. I can't say that I was expecting—"

 "Me?" Mike offers with a tilt of his head. 

 He's standing too close. It feels like he is, anyway, so he moves back to lean against the conference table. 

 "Yeah, pretty much," you laugh. "It's been a while."

 Mike wonders if you remember that night as well as he does. No matter how much he's tried to forget it, that image of you with fat years rolling down your face just will not leave him. Do you remember how it felt? Can you remember everything he said to you? 

 Before Mike can respond, you wave a hand. "Anyway, I need to go help set up our little area, so…"

 "Yeah, for sure. I'll be around."

 After powering through the last hour of his day, Mike bolts from the building. He needs to get home. He needs to get a drink in his hand. He needs to unwind and not think of you. 

 He needs to fucking call Erwin. 

 "Hey, bro, what's up?" 

 "Dude," is all Mike says at first. 

 "What?" 

 "You will never fucking guess who's on the team we’re working with on the Sina water project."

 Erwin hums in a sing-song sort of way, then chuckles. "Funny, I got a similar call about an hour ago."

 "You guys still talk?" Mike asks a little too loudly. 

 "Yeah, man. Not every day or anything, but—"

 Mike rolls his eyes. "You're unbelievable." He isn't mad, and Erwin knows this. He's just a little surprised. His friend hasn’t as much as uttered your name in the last ten years. 

 "Yeah, whatever. How'd it go from your perspective?" 

 "It—Wait, what did she say?" 

 "Oh, no no no," Erwin laughs. Mike here's a distant, "Hold that, please!" and figures he's making his way to the elevator to leave work as well. "I am not getting caught up in your bullshit again."

 Pouting, Mike finally turns on his car and pulls out of the parking lot. "Fine. It went… Well? I think? I mean, super awkward, but that isn't surprising."

 "No name-calling or confessions of undying love?" 

 "No, I'm not twenty-two anymore."

 "Could have fooled me," Erwin snorts. 

 "Fuck off. It was a good presentation, but she was nervous, and I couldn't tell if it was from having to speak in front of people or if it was 'cause I was there, and then we talked afterward—nothing important or anything, just, like, an acknowledgement. You know, you're here, I'm here, we have to find a way to co-exist, except neither of us actually said that," Mike has to take a deep breath. He's rambling, he knows, and Erwin is just listening, probably storing it all away to make fun of him about it later. "It was okay. It could've been worse."

 "Could have been better too."

 "What? How—"

 "Could have bent her over the desk and—"

 "Dude!"

 Erwin breaks into that deep laugh Mike is so used to, tells him, "I'm just saying! I know she's still cute. We have each other on Facebook."

 He's right. Too right. You are absolutely still cute, all dressed up in business casual attire, so different from the leggings and hoodies you used to wear. Your face has matured slightly—naturally—and your hair is different but still suits you. Mike has no idea how he's supposed to work with you for the next few months. 

 "I can't deal with you," Mike grumbles. "Why did I even call you?" 

 "Probably because I'm the only one who has an inkling about what you're going through right now," Erwin replies. "Aside from her anyway."

 "Yeah, yeah."

 They chat for a little while longer until Erwin gets to the bar he's apparently meeting some coworkers at, and Mike spends the rest of his drive listening to music too loud as he tries and fails to clear his mind of you. 

 *

 You're pacing. You have been for the last hour. The food you made for yourself went cold some time ago, but you're too busy whining into your phone to notice. 

 "Just—like—what the fuck am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to work with him like this? He's overseeing the whole fucking project! I can't just avoid him!" 

 "Okay, first thing's first," Hitch stops you. "I need you to take a deep breath for me."

 "Hitch—"

 "Breathe!"

 You inhale through your nose then blow out through your mouth, but that's obviously not good enough for Hitch because she demands, "And, again."

 "What are you, my therapist?" 

 "I mean, I usually act like one, so… anyway, while you're calming the fuck down, I'm gonna call for backup. Hold please."

 Dropping yourself onto the hotel couch, you try to relax even though you know it'll be impossible because—

 "You're working with Mike?" Rhi's shrill voice meets your ear, and you have to pull the phone away. 

 "Rhi, you're supposed to help me calm her down, not add to her panic," Hitch reminds her. 

 "Yeah, no, that's not gonna happen," Rhi tells her, and you laugh to yourself. 

 "Agreed."

 "Okay, so tell me what happened. Oh my god, did you cry? Did he cry? What'd Erwin say when you told him? You told him, right?" 

 You've gotten used to Rhi's rapid fire inquiries a long time ago, so you have no problem answering, "We walked in for the big Sina presentation today, and he was just there, and I was freaking out, so Hange had to do most of the work but still made me go over my findings 'cause I understand them better than they do, but anyway. I don't think he was paying attention at fucking all which is cool 'cause I wouldn't have been either, and then we talked for a second afterward, but there were no tears. There was almost vomit 'cause I felt like I needed to throw up, but I kept it together. I think."

 "Okay, and Erwin? What'd he say?" 

 You snicker to yourself. "He made fun of me for a little while and then he told me to talk to Mike once I calmed down just to catch up and then to—this is verbatim, by the way—to possibly have dirty sex in Mike's office."

 Both of your friends howl, Hitch being the first to gather herself enough to giggle, "He fucking would say that, oh my god, I hate him."

 "Same," Rhi drawls. "Okay, but is there the possibility of dirty office sex?"

 "Wha—That's what you're taking away from all that?" You splutter. 

 "Uh, yeah."

 "I'm kinda curious too," Hitch pipes up. 

 You wave your free hand around in confusion and tell them, "I—we—no! We don't even know each other anymore. We said, like, four words to each other today, and it was fucking weird, so no. Pervs."

 "Do you want to, though? Has he aged well?" Hitch asks in a low, sultry voice. 

 You click your tongue and pause, not wanting the first thought that pops into your head to be what comes out of your mouth because yes, holy shit, yes, Mike looks so fucking good. It was one of many reasons you were so tongue-tied in front of him. 

 He's still impossibly tall and broad, but in slacks and a button up. The beard he’s always had is short and rugged and a tad darker than the hair on top of his head that he's let grow out long enough to tie in a bun, and it fits him too well. You thought you were gonna start drooling on his fancy shoes. 

 "He's alright," you play. They see right through you, falling into another long fit of laughter until you admit, "Okay, okay, he's still stupid hot, alright?" 

 "God bless. I'm so happy to hear that. I'm so happy for you."

 "Why would you—"

 "Just promise you'll invite us to the wedding."

 "I think you guys are getting a little ahead of yourselves."

 "Oh my god, we have to call Marie."

 "And, Maddie."

 You shake your head as the other two start going back and forth, talking about you like you're not even there, bringing up college memories, old parties you'd all gone to. 

 "Hey, remember when you hated me?" Rhi questions, and both of you snort. 

 "And, you hated me right back. Stole your man or whatever."

 Hitch mutters a quiet, "Ew, fuck that guy."

 And, Rhi picks up, "Yeah, fuck that all-American, record-breaking pitcher."

 The three of you talk well into the evening, eventually switching to Zoom so that you can all see each other and add Maddie and Marie into the call. You and Hitch break open bottles of wine, but Rhi and Maddie don't drink, "Solidarity with this pregnant bitch," Maddie says, and Marie lifts her glass of water to cheers via internet. 

 Sophomore and junior year of college, you never would have expected to get close to anyone other than Hitch, but through a few shared classes and petty curiosity, all of you ended up seeking solace in one another and came out on the other side as best friends. Hitch was even Maid of Honor in Marie and Nile's wedding. Against all odds, everything turned out pretty wholesome. 

 "I genuinely hope it works out," Hitch says now, words long, lazy, and starting to slur together "Like, even if it's just you and Mike making up and being, like, cool with each other again."

 "Hitch, you're drunk, please go to bed."

 "I am drunk. But, I still mean what I said. I miss when you guys were just best friends."

 "Why?" You question with a head shake. 

 Hitch sighs, "'Cause you were so happy."

 "No, I—"

 "I mean, you were still all… weird and guarded, but that dude made you laugh and smile so much."

 "I daresay I even saw you giddy on a couple of occasions," Marie hums. 

 "Whatever. I just want it to be… not awkward."

 "Then, talk."

 "Mm, pass."

 *

 A light knock on the wall of the impressively large cubicle gets your whole team's attention, all of you glancing up to find Mike standing in the little entryway, hands in his pockets.

 "Hey, just checkin' in. Have you all gotten settled?" 

 "Yes!" Hange is up on their feet. "Great accommodations, and that lab you guys use?" They moan, and you can tell Mike is trying not to laugh because his mouth is twisting to one side like it always does when he tries to appear unaffected by something. However, you know well that it is very hard to remain unaffected by Hange Zoe. 

 "Yeah, we haven't had a lab that shiny in a long time," Moblit chuckles. 

 "Don't you work in government buildings?" Mike frowns. 

 "You ever seen the inside of a post office?" You question, immediately regretting it when those light green eyes land on you. 

 "Uh, yeah?" 

 Smirking through the butterflies, you tell him, "Those are government buildings too."

 "Don't mind her. She's just being a smartass," Abel says.

 Mike is really fighting that smile now. Even pinched to one side, you can see the way his lips are trying to curve upward, and you have to bite yours and look at the floor before you start acting like a god damn school girl. 

 It's nearing the end of the first week at your new location. It hasn't been terrible, and some of the strangeness is beginning to wear off, but it's still jarring to see Mike walk around or hear his voice carrying through his office door. 

 Neither of you have gone out of your way to talk to one another. Anything project related, Hange handles for the most part, and if anything is delegated to you, you try to pass it off to Abel because you're just not ready to be alone in a room with Mike. Your brain and your heart can't take it yet. 

 You can't deny that you're curious, though. You wonder what his life is like now, what his job is like outside of what you've seen (which, admittedly, is not much), what he does in his free time now, who he spends his time with. You couldn't help but notice (you made a point of looking) that there isn't any type of ring on his finger which is pretty fucking surprising since, well, Mike has always been a catch. How has someone not come around and swiped him off the market? Or, does he just not wear a wedding band at work? Or, does he just have a girlfriend and is waiting to take the next step? So many questions you have no business asking.

 Mike hums, rubs at something probably nonexistent on the carpet with the toe of his shoe, and mumbles a little, "Nothin’ I haven't dealt with before," that makes everyone look at him curiously. "With co-workers, you know. Lotta sass in the office."

 You stifle a laugh and stand up. There are a lot of sassy things you could say, but you figure none of them are actually appropriate, especially since Mike is technically your boss now—why is that so hot?—so you just slip out of the cubicle, doing your best to not brush up against Mike. He apparently doesn't care, though, because while he moves to the side, he does the thing that all men do, placing a hand on the small of your back as if to guide you past him, and it makes you burn. 

 "'scuse me," you squeak, relieved to be able to run to the restroom where you can sit in a stall and scream to Hitch through texts. 

 You are dying—mostly because you don't know what you want. Do you want to be friends? Do you want to seduce him? Do you want another nine years away from him? You have no idea. 

 You were sad for a long time after that holiday break. You trudged through your spring courses, took more classes in the Summer, then started all over. Hitch had to physically drag you out of your tiny apartment a few times but never to any parties, thank god. Just to lunch or the library, and eventually, Rhi, Marie, and Maddie came into the picture. Further into the picture, anyway. 

 While they got you laughing again, though, that ache didn't ever fade. Mike's words replayed in your head in a constant loop, day and night for months. I can’t do this anymore. Start fresh. Shouldn’t be hard for you. You were mad at yourself for a long time, for ruining everything and hurting him. If you could have gone back to the start of it all and done things differently, you would have, but you just had to sit with all your mistakes instead. 

 Then, your anger shifted toward him. Because you weren't the only one who messed up. You may have been the first one to, but he did some shitty things too. He's the one who didn't care even after finding out it was Zeke who blocked his number. He's the one who refused to believe that you and Erwin weren't actually a couple. He's the one who brought Rhi to the ranch house with the specific intention of hurting your feelings (and to wet his dick). 

 And, he's the one who didn't want to work things out. 

 You understand his frustration. You broke his heart, after all. But then, he turned around and broke yours too. 

 It was nine years ago, and you've moved on. You've dated people since then. You've fallen in and out of love. Mike wasn't even on your radar until Monday, but now… Now, there's no forgetting him. Old wounds get jabbed every time he peeks around the corner, any time you hear him laugh or see him smile, and when he actually looks at you, fuck, it's like someone is ripping stitches out of your skin.

 It is not a productive work environment. 

 Your team hasn't noticed much other than Moblit asking what has you so tense these days, but no one has made any connections, and you'd like to keep it that way. Hange would have a fucking field day if they found out. 

 There are many meetings to toss around ideas, plans and blueprints that get scrapped. You stumble through presentations, trying not to look directly at anyone as your cheeks heat up and your hands shake. 

 "You've never been nervous about stuff like this," Abel tells you in the conference room one day as everyone else files out. "What's up with you?" 

 "Nothing," you shake your head. "Don't worry about it."

 "Nothing my ass," he grumbles, walking out without you. 

 "You really should try to relax," Mike tells you from where he's still sitting at the table. "No idea why you're so nervous."

 Everyone else is gone which means you're free to squint at him, scathing retort on the tip of your tongue, but when you see that he's smirking at you, the words dry up. 

 "Don't play dumb, Zacharias."

 "I'm not playing anything," he tells you. "But, I do need to know how long we're gonna keep up this I don't know you-you don't know me thing."

 "You literally just said—..." Taking a deep breath, you look over your shoulder to, one, form a coherent sentence in your brain, and two, make sure no one is close enough to hear it when you say, "What would you prefer we do? Not like we can just pick up where we left off. Unless, you know, you wanna go back to being incredibly fucking pissed at me for months on end."

 "Man, you really are tense about this," Mike chuckles, and you're torn between slapping him and jumping his bones, so you do neither. Fuck, why'd he have to wear the purple tie today? It looks so good with his complexion and complements his eyes. A few strands of hair have come loose from the bun at the back of his head, and he shakes them out of his face like he used to shake his shaggy bangs, and all you can do is stare and squirm and tell him, "I have to go."

 "Go where?" He asks, standing from his chair. It feels like he towers over you even from across the table. 

 You hold your hands out and gesticulate a little frantically, "I don't know—work? Maybe?"

 He's extremely amused, even laughs as you make your way out the door, then calls, "Whenever you're ready to talk, just let me know! You know where my office is."

 "I don't wanna talk!"

 You really don't. But, you also really do. 

 *

 Mike starts having fun with his new department (you specifically) around the third week. 

 He's never seen you like this before, having to mentally prepare yourself before you walk into any room, like you have to be ready for him. You nibble on your lip and rock on your heels. Your hands shake in meetings when you have to point to pictures or graphs. 

 It’s just so unlike you. He got so used to the surly, uncaring girl in college, never happy to see Mike until you gave him a fair chance (and decided you enjoyed his cock). He expects everything to come out of your mouth to be sarcastic or suggestive, and when it's not, it takes him off guard.  

 Mike is nervous around you too. He can easily admit that. But, his neverending panic really just manifests in the form of nausea and heart palpitations which he thinks is better than trembling and stuttering, but it's still mildly distracting. 

 Every once in a while, he catches a glimpse of that old side of you, though, a mumbled smartass remark or an unimpressed expression, and he has to make a conscious effort to not grin like an idiot because he's still trying to decipher his actual feelings. 

 Is he supposed to act like nothing ever happened, or should he hold a grudge? What seems more natural? What feels more natural? 

 Mike knows the answer to that last question, but he hasn't fully accepted it. 

 "It's kinda cute, actually. Like, I walk into the room and she gets this little doe-eyed expression. Looks like she's about to run away."

 "You're kind of a sadist, you know that?" Erwin says. 

 "I mean, is it so wrong to get a little satisfaction outta this?" 

 "I think so, yeah. You're driving her crazy, dude."

 Mike smacks his lips and rolls his eyes. "Man, how would you know—"

 "'Cause she told me!" Erwin basically shouts like it's obvious. "The words came out of her mouth. Mike is driving me crazy. Just like that."

 Pouting, Mike takes another sip of his beer and lets his eyes travel to the bottom of the TV screen to check the score of the game he isn't watching. 

 "Well, it's not like I can really do anything about it. She'll only be here for a few months."

 "Do you happen to know how long it takes for a stomach ulcer to form?" Erwin asks. 

 Mike frowns. "Uh, no?" 

 "Well, neither do I, but I'm pretty sure it's not very long."

 Both of them laugh. Mike mutters something about Erwin being fucking stupid, and then Erwin sighs and speaks, "I am begging you, dude. Please just get a fucking drink with her or something."

 "We don't mix well with alcohol," Mike snarks. 

 "What's the worst that could happen—you end up in bed again?"

 "Well—"

 "Honestly, both of you could probably benefit from a good fuck, but what do I know? I'm just the guy both of you call for this shit."

 "Alright, I get it. I'll… see if she's up for something," Mike mumbles. 

 "I mean, I wouldn't open with sex, maybe start off with lunch or…"

 "I'm hanging up now."

 Mike doesn't actually know how to ask you, though. You're so fucking skittish around him, and you're obviously worried about people finding out you have a history, so he's gonna have to be strategic about it, maybe plant the seed a few days before or—

 "Hey, listen…" You appear in Mike's office doorway, long cardigan falling to your knees and swishing behind you even after you've stopped moving. "I know it's almost five, but I'm, like, right in the middle of mapping out a new plan, and I don't wanna lose steam, so is it cool if I stay late?" 

 "Yeah, I don't care," Mike answers, tacking on, "S'long as you're okay with being here late with me."

 "Oh, th-that's—" you splutter for a little while, and Mike raises his eyebrows. "That's n-not necessary. You don't have to, like, supervise me or anything."

 "I'm not supervising you," Mike snorts. "I'm trying to finish my piece for a journal."

 "Ah, right, that's… yes." You shoot off a half-hearted finger gun, and Mike wants to hop his desk to get to you. There you are. There are your dumb fucking mannerisms, please, just act like yourself, for the love of god. 

 "Okay, well if you need me, uh, I will probably be on the floor in the annex, so…"

 "We do have chairs, ya' know," Mike smirks. 

 "Yeah, but it's easier to just spread everything out so I can see it."

 "Want a corkboard? You can make it look like you're doing a murder investigation."

 "Hmm, might make it look more official," you muse, making a face of contemplation. 

 Before you can actually say yes, Mike pipes up again. "I don't actually have a corkboard. It was a joke."

 "Yeah, I know," you snicker. "Wouldn't be big enough anyway."

 Too many responses flood Mike's brain at once, causing him to bite his tongue because every last one of them is gross, but you must be able to read it on his face because you point and tell him, "Stop."

 "I didn't say anything!" He laughs. 

 "You don't have to. I know."

 Mike rolls his eyes, "Okay," and looks back to his computer, hoping the screen is high enough to hide his grin as you turn and walk away. 

 The next hour is spent editing the same paragraph over and over with no real motivation because everyone has vacated the floor except for you and Mike, and this could be a good time to talk to you, but he also doesn't want to disrupt your work. Just because he can't focus doesn't mean you can't. You'd only get upset if he distracted you from your work anyway—it's happened before—redirecting your attention from a textbook or study guide to… other things. 

 He goes down a rabbit hole, reminiscing on those occasions, then tweaking them just a little to fit into the current setting, and it's the absolute last thing Mike should be thinking about, but it's Friday, and you're slightly more casual in your flowy cardigan and tight jeans, and all he wants is to get one teeny tiny look at your ass in them because he knows your it’s perfect. He's seen it in leggings and cheeky little boy shorts and lacy thongs, and there is absolutely no way he can go out to talk to you now. 

 Also, he really needs to write at least one paragraph before leaving tonight. It's all about water and waste and pollutants which is the shit Mike knows like the back of his hand. He'd just rather have said hands on something else. 

 "Yeah, this isn't gonna happen," he mutters to himself, taking his hair down to scratch at his scalp. He's better off just going home. 

 Mike packs a few things up before stepping out of his office, closing and locking the door behind him. Half the lights are off, but the portion over the annex is shining brightly. Mike stares in that direction as he debates telling you he's leaving or bolting without saying anything. 

 It's the thought of you walking out to your car alone that makes his mind up, and Mike saunters to the annex and finds you on hands knees surrounded by several sketches, crumpled notes, and the set of blueprints that Mike is pretty sure got thrown in the recycling on Tuesday. 

 "Where'd you even find those?" 

 You don't look up when you answer, "Recycling comes every Monday."

 "So, you went… dumpster diving?" 

 Lifting your head, you squint up at Mike, tracking him as he squats on the other side of your organized chaos. 

 "Is it dumpster diving if it's all paper?" 

 Mike shrugs. "Dunno. How's it comin'?"

 "I'm comi—It!" You correct a little too loudly. "It's coming! It's coming along just fine."

 "Yeah?" Mike chuckles. "Cute Freudian slip there."

 "It was not—" You grit your teeth, fingers curling on the papers they're resting on, then question, "Did you need something?"

 "Just came by to say I was leaving," Mike tells you. Something catches his eye, though, some of your notes scribbled just big enough for him to read a few of the words from where he is, and he grabs the sheet to look it over more carefully. 

 Irrigation plans, specialized pumps, introducing new life into the lake, specifically filter fish…

 "I was just vomiting ideas out on paper, it's nothing important."

 Mike hums and reads further. Some of it is familiar because Mike has considered some of these himself, but while your engineering thoughts are a little vague, the ideas that lean more toward the biological side of things are pretty interesting, even if they're just sloppy bullet points and arrows. 

 "You wanna vomit on a person instead?" He asks, chuckling at the look you give him. 

 "Ew."

 "Just spitball. Throw it at me."

 "Oh, I'm gonna throw somethin' at you all right."

 Mike slips his bag from his shoulder and sets it down before sitting on the ground, picking up the papers closest to him. 

 "Tell me about the xylem tissue method," he prompts. 

 You don't speak right away, just chew on your lip while staring at the sketches on the ground, but then you nod and sit back on your heels. 

 "So, we know that white pine trees are a natural means of filtering, but there aren't any around here. I know it's more of a long-term plan, but we can't just go with a temporary fix, so I was thinking—"

 Mike listens. To everything. Everything you can think of. He watches too. You rub your hands over your jeans and flick hair from your eyes. You change positions, sitting on one foot while resting your chin on your knee as you think out loud, then move to sit cross-legged only to get up to pace the length of the cubicle, barefoot since your heels were kicked off long ago. 

 He asks questions or makes suggestions here and there, and soon it isn't just you who's brainstorming.

 It's easy. It's what Mike knows, and it's obviously what you know too, and a couple of hours pass before either of you realize it. 

 "Shit, it's almost ten," you state, looking at your phone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you here so late."

 "It's fine. Wouldn't have stayed if I didn't want to."

 Mike stretches as he stands, twisting to crack his back and rolling his neck. You gather up all the papers, straightening them into a neat pile then putting them in a drawer at the bottom of your desk. 

 You walk out together, still chatting in the elevator and out to the parking lot, and Mike feels good. He feels like… He feels like he did in college. 

 "Please tell me that is not your car," you say, eyeing the boxy, white Mercedes that is, in fact, Mike's. 

 "What of it?" 

 "These fucking Jeeps are so ugly, I cannot believe—"

 "Uh, it's not a Jeep. It's a g-wagon, thank you."

 You roll your eyes. "I liked your Wrangler better."

 "I bet you fuckin' did," he mumbles, too lost in the memory of you riding him in said Wrangler to think about how you might take the comment. 

 "It was easier on the eyes," you explain. 

 "It was a frat boy car."

 "You were a frat boy!" 

 "And, now I'm a professional."

 "Are you, though?" You tease, expression skeptical save for your tiny smirk. 

 "Most of the time."

 The only other vehicle in the lot is a Land Rover, considerably larger than the little hatchback you used to drive but very fitting for someone in your line of work. Mike thinks about mentioning that it's basically the same as his Mercedes, just not as expensive and with rounder edges, but he knows you'll just get indignant and defensive. 

 He walks you over to your car, and you don't question it, just open the passenger side and throw your bag inside. 

 This is your chance, Mike realizes. Just ask. Ask her to go somewhere else and talk about something other than work.

 "Hey, uh, do you wanna grab a drink or something?" He tries, heartbeat picking up once again. His eyes are a little too wide as you regard him carefully, studying him like one of your samples.

 Then, you shake your head. 

 "No, Mike. I don't wanna grab a drink." His stomach opens up, the heat that comes with embarrassment creeping up his neck. 

 "Oh, sorry, I just—"

 "But, there's a breakfast place close to the extended stay they put us up in. I've been wanting to check it out."

 And, like that, his hope is restored. Hope for what, Mike doesn't know, but it's certainly there, blooming in his chest like unkempt wildflowers. 

 "Yeah?" 

 You nod. "Yeah. I'm still not really a morning person, but d'you wanna meet there at, like, ten or so?" 

 "Tomorrow?" 

 "I mean, if that works for you."

 "Yeah!" Mike clears his throat, lowers his voice so that he sounds a little less excited. "I'm usually up and moving by eight."

 "God, why do you hate yourself?" You cringe. 

 "I've always been an early riser."

 "Not from what I remember."

 Mike leans against your rover, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, maybe not when I was kept up into the early morning hours, but usually I was up before everyone else."

 You post up across from him, one hand on your hip, and Mike realizes this is gonna go on for some time. 

 "Kept up? Like you didn't wanna be?"

 He's fine with that. He'll stand out here talking with you until the sun comes up if you'll let him. And, maybe after that too. 

 *

 Breakfast is good. Breakfast is safe. Breakfast is the start of the day and free of alcohol. There is nothing suggestive about breakfast. 

 Except breakfast has become a habit. For the last three Saturdays you’ve sat at the little cafe next to your hotel talking with Mike for at least an hour. You’re kind of getting to know him again, but most of the conversation consists of stupid jokes or blatant deflections. 

 His parents are still doing well, both in their sixties now, but Scout, unfortunately passed away a few years ago. Hearing it makes your eyes burn, and watching Mike’s face fall actually makes you wipe at your own rapidly forming tears. 

 He still keeps in touch with several of his frat brothers—Erwin (obviously), Nile, Gelgar, and some of the younger kids, Jean, Marco, and Connie.

 “Yeah, I’m actually pretty close to Marie now,” you tell him. “And, Maddie, and Rhi.”

 “Rhi?” He looks incredibly surprised.

 “Yeah,” you laugh. “Bonded over the woes of college boys.”

 “Didn’t see that coming.”

 “Neither did I, honestly.”

 Working with him is easier now. The ice has been broken. The boundaries have been set even if they are unspoken. You still do your best not to touch him at all, never stand too close or brush against him in any way, but you’ve loosened up a lot, and your team seems to appreciate it. Unfortunately, they also start to notice the way you light up a little too much whenever you’re around Mike, and naturally, Hange just had to comment on it a few days ago. 

 “You have a crush on the bossman or somethin’?”

 “What? No. We just work well together, I guess.”

 You do not tell Mike about this exchange, in fear of him prying. Well, do you have a crush on the bossman? You’re not ready for that, probably never will be. 

 There are a few breakthroughs in the Sina project. The research team gets extra funding to run more trials, and you start to stay late more often, sometimes in the tower with everyone else and sometimes in the lab. Things are progressing nicely. 

 Eventually, breakfast turns to lunch, lunch turns to dinner, and then you find yourself in Mike’s apartment, sitting at his kitchen table while he cooks.

 “So, we talk every once in a while now, but it’s usually really awkward. Like, I still don’t ever know what to say to him.”

 “Do you find it weird that he reached out in the first place?”

 “Kind of? When I was younger, I always hoped he would, but now that he has, I almost wish he hadn’t. Does that make sense?”

 Mike shrugs as he pours noodles into a strainer over the sink. “I mean, he’s your dad, so yeah, it makes sense. What he did was super shitty, but I figure it’s hard to forget the good times and just abandon all hope.”

 “Yeah. On the bright side, he sends my brother money for commissary, like, every week, so that’s nice.”

 It took a little while, but you’ve let yourself open up to Mike much easier this time around. Whether it’s because you already know you can trust him or because you’ve gotten the closure you needed for so long, you’re not sure. You just know it’s been easy. 

 Unfortunately, with vulnerability comes feelings, and you are having a lot of those. Too many. You’re glad that it’s not debilitating dread and nervousness now, but the overwhelming affection isn’t any less distracting.

 Watching Mike move around his kitchen, though—clad in a t-shirt, faded jeans, and the dish towel thrown over his shoulder, you are painfully reminded of why you got so attached all those years ago. 

 It isn’t fair. You really didn’t want to fall back into this hole. You knew it was a possibility as soon as you saw him at that first meeting, but you were trying to put it off until you had to leave. 

 Because that’s the plan. You come in. You complete the project, get them started on a long-term plan for the lake, then head back to your home facility and wait for another job to be assigned. You can’t just stay here, even if the idea gets a little more tempting every day. 

 You’re just friends, though, just spending time together because it’s familiar. It’s nice being back on the same page, just letting the past stay there.

 “So, it’s been about two months,” Mike starts, and something about his tone makes your stomach drop. “I feel like that’s an appropriate amount of time to wait before finally addressing the elephant in the room.”

 So much for letting the past stay there. 

 Groaning, you rub your hands down your face. “Do we really have to?” Of course he would want to talk about it now that you’re comfortable.

 “I really think we do.”

 “Mike, that was so long ago. I was a dumb fucking kid. What do you need to know other than that?”

 He braces himself on his counter, face serious. “Nothin’ really. I just want you to know that I was a dumb kid too.”

 “Yeah, and we’ve grown since then and gotten over it, right?”

 He lets out a long sigh. “I had gotten over it, but working with you every day has kinda... brought some things back to the surface.”

 Staring at him, you swallow and try to stay calm. You know where he’s coming from, and it’s a little comforting to know that he’s been experiencing at least some of the emotions that you have been, but you don’t know whether or not it’s a good thing. 

 “I get it. I’ve been struggling too, but there’s nothing we can really do about it.”

 You’ve thought about just taking the plunge and sleeping with him again. It would be nice—really fucking nice—but it would only make things worse. 

 “I guess. It’s been cool to hang out again, but…” Mike chews on his lip for a moment before finishing, “We’ve never been good at just hanging out.” 

 The reminder makes your skin prickle with heat, and you shift in your chair, reeling in your thoughts before they run wild. 

 “Yeah. If it would be easier to just not hang out, I’d understand.”

 He turns back to the stove to stir something and turn on the vent then twists back around. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

 “Then, what are you saying?”

 Mike makes a little disgruntled noise, hanging his head like he’s getting frustrated. “I’m saying some days are hard. I tried to keep some distance, but that lasted for about a week, and now you’re here, and even though you’ve changed some, you’re still you, and I’m still me, and… Some days are just hard.”

 Some minutes are hard, you think to yourself. You can be going about your day like someone who isn’t completely fucking smitten, and then you see Mike, and he nods or grins and suddenly all you want is to be alone with him and trace over his lips with yours, feel his hands on you, run your fingers through his long hair. 

 “If I could take those feelings away from you, I would,” you tell him, and it’s apparently the wrong thing to say because he frowns.

 “Do you not feel the same way then?”

 Your reply is almost instantaneous. “Christ, Mike, of course I feel the same! I was in love with you! I didn’t know how to show it back then, but that’s what it was, so yeah, I feel it too, but there’s no point in—in analyzing it or turning it into something—”

 “You were in love?”

 “Dude. Yes. It took me a while to realize it—like, way too long—but yeah. Definitely love. Junior and senior year wouldn’t have sucked so much if it was just lust or infatuation or something.”

 “Sorry.”

 “Don’t be,” you wave him off. “I fucked up. You had every right to be pissed.”

 “I could’ve handled it better,” he mutters.

 You shake your head. “Dumb kids, remember?”

 Mike looks genuinely upset, and you don’t know what to say anymore, so you get up from the kitchen table and walk over to him. You have to physically urge him to turn and face you, but once he does, you wrap your arms around his torso and sigh. He immediately locks his wrists behind your back, resting his chin on your head, and it feels familiar and right and a little bit like home. You can smell the fabric softener that clings to his shirt and the fresh scent of his deodorant, different from what he used to wear, but that doesn’t make it bad.

 “Can we wait for a while longer before we decide to act like dumb kids again?” You ask.

 Mike chuckles above you. “You say that like you’re positive we will.”

 You’re just being realistic, and you tell him as much. The chances of you leaving the city without having sex at least once are slim to none. You figure the two of you will break and indulge in one of those ‘just for old time’s sake’ fucks, but if Mike keeps talking to you like this, admitting feelings and what not, you’re gonna lose it much faster than you’d originally planned. 

 “Yeah.” You feel him nod. “Yeah, we can wait.”

 When he kisses the top of your head, you almost give up then and there. 

 *

 This fucking sucks. Everything sucks. Mike was never one of those people who looked back on college as his glory days, never really had the desire to go back to it, but now he feels like he’s reliving them because he’s back to being twenty-one and obsessed with a girl—being obsessed with you. 

 It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t know that you felt it too, but you admitted it, so now the only thing that’s stopping the two of you from exploring that avenue is, what, fear? Again?

 He gets it. He does. You don’t want to fall into something serious only to leave, but it’s possible to navigate relationships like that. Long distance-works. There’s technology for that like phones and video chats and sex toys. Then, there’s always the option of just relocating. It would be drastic, but Mike isn’t against the idea. Arrangements would have to be made, but he could swing it. It’s a little crazy so early on, but...

 He’s not gonna push it, not in a blatant way, but he’s gonna try his damndest to make it harder for you to go. He grows bold enough to start touching you more. A hand on the small of your back as you leave a room together, an arm around your shoulders when you watch TV over dinner, tucking hair behind your ear (“God, that used to be Erwin’s, like, go-to move.”). It’s fucked up because he knows your colleagues are asking about it, that he’s subjecting you to their interrogations, but he can’t help himself. He can’t stop.

 It definitely has an effect on you. You get flustered every time, can’t look at Mike for a while, and he hopes it’s because you’re thinking about other ways he could touch you—has touched you—f you’d just give him the chance.

 He thinks he has the patience to keep it up, wind you up more and more every day until you spin out of control and into his bed. You’re still spending time with him outside of work, still sharing pieces of yourself, and you’re not stopping him from putting his hands on you. so it’s only a matter of time.

 It comes to a head in his apartment after dinner. It’s so simple, something Mike didn’t even do on purpose, but as you’re washing your hands, he comes up behind you and reaches past you for a paper towel. He puts a hand on your hip without thinking, and his chest presses against your back, and then you’re exhaling in one quick huff and squirming to turn around.

 “Okay.”

 “Okay, what?” Mike asks, confused as he takes a step back. 

 “Okay, I’m ready to act like a dumb kid.”

 You don’t even dry your hands, just curl your fingers into his shirt and gaze up at him with dilated pupils, and Mike is elated.

 “Oh, thank god, fuck, thank god.”

 He leans down, and you stand on your tiptoes, and when you meet in the middle and he feels your lips on his for the first time in almost a decade, he groans. 

 You pull him closer, tilt your head further back to give him better access, and Mike cradles it in his hands. He tries not to breathe too heavily, pant like a fucking dog, but he’s been waiting for this since he saw you again. Maybe before that. He thinks on some level he’s been waiting for this since he left you alone in the ranch house, a little voice nagging at him to go back, to fix things, and he just never did. 

 “This is stupid, this is so stupid,” you murmur against him. “Only gonna make things harder.”

 “Just stop thinking about it,” Mike replies, nipping at your bottom lip. He doesn’t want you to think about it because he doesn’t want to think about it otherwise he’ll blurt out everything he’s been stewing on for the last couple weeks, the possibility of a real relationship, of you staying or him going, and that's too much. 

 You both shed clothes on your way to the bedroom, a trail of shirts and pants until you’re naked and laid out for him, and Mike swears he just might cry because you’re so beautiful, just as he remembered with a little more meat on your hips and thighs, a new scar on your calf that he asks about before brushing his lips over it. That leg is already resting on his shoulder, and once he gets situated on his stomach, he throws the other one over himself.

 His mouth starts to water as he gazes at your pussy, so fucking pretty, hole fluttering when he spreads you open. You can’t answer his question about the injury as he lowers his face, pressing the flat of his tongue to the sensitive skin then dipping it inside of you. 

 “Oh, fuck.”

 You taste and smell and feel perfect, and the only thought in his mind is to devour you. He won’t stop until you’re crying, drool leaking from your mouth and your cunt. And, he knows exactly how to get you to that point. 

 Mike flicks over your clit until it grows firm against his tongue then sucks it into his mouth. The noise you make goes straight to his cock, and he starts to rut into the mattress to get some kind of friction. He can already feel precum dripping from his tip, knows you won’t be the only one getting messy tonight, but he doesn’t care. He’s never cared. 

 Mike only pulls away when your thighs start to tremble around his head, and it’s only to mark them with bruises. It reminds him of the last time, when you’d let him fuck you in a fit of desperation. It had been his undoing. He thought of that night for years, and now that he’s able to do it all again, he can’t help but confess, “Fuck, I’ve missed your pussy,” just before he spits on it. 

 Your chest is rising with every little whimper you release as your nails dig into your palms. He’s never been happier to have long arms, able to reach up and massage your tits, stretching his fingers out to span across your chest, thumb on one nipple, pinky on the other, and as he teases both of them, he moans at the fresh slick that coats his tongue. 

 “A finger,” you pant, “Give me a finger, fuck, at least one, please please please—”

 You’ve always been so cute when you babble. Mike can never say no when you talk to him like that, but after assessing and deeming you fit, he slides two fingers into you at once, still sucking your clit.

 You swear loudly, almost in surprise, but that doesn’t stop you from moving your hips, fucking yourself on every digit as your jaw drops open. 

 Mike wants to see your face—has to see it, so he licks up your body, stopping to tongue over your nipples as he goes. He never falters in his thrusting, still knows the exact angle he has to crook his fingers to hit your g-spot. Your back arches, and you plant your feet flat on the mattress to give yourself more leverage, more control. Mike smirks down at you, enjoying your euphoric expression as he grinds his palm against the bundle of nerves that is the key to making you fall apart. 

 “Oh my god—oh, god—fuck, Miche.”

 His breath catches in his throat. God, he hasn’t heard that in too long. He never told you, not that he ever had to, but hearing you call him that drove him crazy, made him fall further in love and lust at the same time, and hearing it now has the same effect.

 “Please,” you whine, then repeat it, spreading your legs to coax him deeper. “Fuck, I need you so bad, s-so bad.”

He’s in the perfect position to rub his cock over your stomach, smearing pre everywhere it touches. From the beginning, Mike has loved leaving traces of himself on you, always felt like he could almost smell it on your skin, like a sigil to ward off others.

 He places a soft kiss at the corner of one closed eye, then on the other, and when you open them to look at him, he sees that they’re filled with tears. 

 It makes him pause, but you keep riding his fingers and beg, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, m’fine, just—”

 “Why're you crying then?" he grins, leaning down to lick your bottom lip. "Feel good?" 

 You nod, raising to your elbows to force your mouth against his, sliding your tongue inside then whining when Mike pulls away, but it's only to gather the spit in his mouth. When he kisses you again, he makes sure you take it all, pushing saliva past his teeth and onto your palette, and when you swallow, Mike makes a noise of satisfaction. 

 "That's my fuckin' girl."

 That wide, fuck-drunk smile he loves so much spreads across your face as you accept the praise you never would have when you were younger.

 Mike noses just under your ear then asks, "You ready for my cock?" 

 "Always,” you breathe. “Always ready for it."

 "Yeah?" You nod, face scrunching up, and Mike thinks there's a chance that you're—"Gonna come for me first?" 

 Your muscles are starting to tense, hips stuttering, and he can actually feel your pussy spasming around his fingers. 

 "Come on, baby, you can do it. Just—'

 Your eyes roll back as your body pulses. Mike's hand is coated with slick that he can't wait to lick off, and he fucks you with his fingers until you go limp. 

 He cleans his hand then slithers back between your legs to catch everything that's leaking from you. You release a pitiful moan when he traces a circle around your entrance then squeal when he rubs his beard over it. 

 "Jesus fuck!"

 "Sensitive?" He teases before crawling back up to kiss you. 

 Holding himself up with one arm, Mike takes hold of his cock, painfully hard at this point, and parts your wet folds with his tip. He slides it up and down, teasing both you and himself and gasping every time it just barely dips inside of you. 

 "Miche, please."

 "You sound good when you beg," he tells you. You've been doing an awful lot of that tonight. 

 "Good enough to fuck me?" 

 "Mm, maybe," he plays, but he's cut off when you lift yourself just enough to take his cockhead inside of you, squeezing it so that he swears. 

 It completely dismantles any self-control Mike thought he had, and he gives you everything he has in a single thrust that makes you scream his name. 

 "You asked for it," he tells you, starting to pull out. 

 You grip his biceps, shaking your head. "J-just stay still for a—oh god, oh god…"

 Mike doesn't move, lets you adjust while he enjoys the way your cunt clenches around his cock. You're panting, eyebrows knit together, and apologize, "Sorry, give me… a minute. Been a while since I've taken anything this s-size."

 It's juvenile, but Mike's chest still puffs a little when you tell him that, and that feeling only grows when you give him the go ahead to move and he pulls out to see that his cock is already covered in white cream.

 Breathing out a quiet, "Fuck," he slowly pushes back in, mesmerized by the way it creates a thick ring at the base. "So pretty," he mutters, rubbing a thumb over the skin that's stretched around him. "Such a pretty pussy."

 He lets a string of spit drip from his mouth and onto your clit then strokes the swollen bud in circles, the pad of his fingers brushing over the tiny hole that makes you twitch every time. 

 Mike falls into a very slow, deep rhythm, torturing you as he drags his cock over every inch of your satin walls. Tiny gasps are pushed from your throat with every thrust, growing louder when Mike sits back on his heels and pulls your hips up to meet his. It leaves you helpless, only able to claw at the blankets, but your efforts are half-hearted, the press of Mike's cockhead against your g-spot obviously making it hard to do just about anything. 

 "I—I—I—..."

 "You what, baby?" He coos while admiring how big his hands look where they wrap around your waist, holding you mostly still as he drives his cock in and out of you. 

 Your cunt is pulsing again, so tight around him as it drips with slick and cream. The sounds it's making, an obscene balance of suction and squelching, has Mike shaking over you because it's so lewd but so familiar, and god, he has missed this. 

 And, you're right. It's stupid because he's just putting himself in the same place he was in ten years ago, but now he's a grown fucking adult, able to handle himself better, communicate better, fuck you better. 

 Tears leak from the corners of your eyes when he picks up his pace, and he groans when he presses in just a little too far, cockhead nudging against the wall deep inside of you. Your eyelids flutter, toes curling where your feet dangle and shake on either side of Mike. 

 His hips start to snap against yours, his balls swinging every time, and Mike remembers how nice it felt when they'd slap against your clit, the way you'd sing for him, and well…

 "Turn over," he breathes, pulling out and helping as you get to your hands and knees. 

 He takes the time to appreciate the view, letting the weight of his cock settle on your back just to get a visual of how much you take of it, what it might look like deep in your ass and what it would be like to see your stomach bulge from it. 

 Another day.

 Not wasting any more time, Mike sheathes himself inside you once again, spreading your cheeks and spitting on your puckering hole so that he can press against it with a thumb. 

 Your pussy opens up for him, like your body is begging him for more, so Mike fucks you harder, faster, slipping the tip of his finger into your asshole so that you tense up and say his name drunkenly. 

 His heavy balls hit your clit over and over, making you squirm and swear, head hanging back in an invitation, so Mike uses his free hand to grab you by the hair, pulling and glancing at what he can see of your face to make sure he isn't hurting you too much. 

 That grin is back, crooked and shiny with drool you keep having to suck back from your teeth. Mike hasn't felt this good having sex in god knows how long (he knows exactly how long it's been), and he thinks out loud, "Always take my cock so well. Always been able to…"

 "Feels so good, Miche," you cry, "You feel so fucking good, oh my god."

 He takes you like this until you can't hold yourself up anymore, elbows buckling underneath you, and all he does then is fall onto his back and pull you with him, letting you ride him like this and dragging his nails down your spine. It curves under his touch, arching and bowing as you lean forward to plant your hands between his legs and bounce on him. 

 Mike has a perfect view from this angle, huffing at the way your puffy lips open for him, clinging to his cock and dripping gossamer strands. Pressure slowly starts to build in both his gut and his balls, a hot sensation that grows, making him feel full and swollen and fuck, he can't wait to fill you up, can't wait to see you sloppy with his cum again. 

 But, not yet. Not yet. 

 Pushing you until you move off of him, Mike grabs his pillows and shoves you down on them, kissing you again before burying his face between your legs. Your hands are immediately in his hair, and he smiles when you tug at it a little harshly, using the strands as a means to guide Mike right where you want him. Even though he's taking this little break to let himself calm down, he can't help but press his hips to the mattress. He's hot and throbbing and dripping pre, ready but not ready to unload everything inside of you. He doesn't want it to end too soon, wants to savor every second because you're here crying and pleading for him, pushing yourself against his face only to pull back when he sucks on your clit. 

 He's able to fit three fingers inside of you now, keeps licking and fucking you until you whisper a slew of curses and start to warn him, "You're gonna make me—" breaking into a high-pitched moan as you squirt into his mouth and all over his hand. 

 "Fuck yes, again, come on, baby, do that again."

 Mike coaxes another out of you, groaning at the feeling of you dripping down his face and chuckling at the way you shiver and sit up. Your eyes are barely open, head swaying back and forth, but you plant a hand on his chest with the confidence of someone who doesn't look like they're about to pass out, shoving him back until he lays down. 

Straddling him, you sink down on his cock and bite your lip as you rock back and forth for a few seconds. Mike can feel fluid dripping over his pelvis, murmurs, "So messy," while pulling you down for a lazy kiss. 

 He lets you ride him, lets you think you're in control for a while until your legs start to get tired, rhythm becoming slower, and then Mike takes over. He lifts and drops you to his content, hips meeting yours as he fucks up into you. Your own hands cup your tits, pinching your nipples and putting on a show as you bounce up and down. 

 "You're so good," you breathe. "So fucking good to me, god, Miche, right there."

 He's on the brink, so close to his climax, but he holds back, giving it to you just the way you want it until it starts to hurt, and then he grunts, "'m gonna come, baby, I have to. Fuck, please, please, let me—"

 "Yes, yes, wanna feel you…"

 Mike's head sinks further into the pillow as his hips move without any thought on his part. He spills inside of you, hot ropes of cum filling your cunt so that it starts to leak out around him, then shooting even more inside of you. 

 "Jesus fucking—"

 Your muscles clench, squeezing and milking him until Mike starts groaning and twitching from overstimulation. 

 He could die right here and now and be totally fine with it. He really could. But before he can let that happen... 

 Mike urges you back, letting you get situated on your pillows again as he gazes at your stretched pussy and everything dripping out of it. 

 As soon as you stop moving, Mike is working his tongue inside of you. He can taste both himself and you, feel it coat his tongue as he drinks in as much as he can before sliding up to your face and taking your chin so you'll open your mouth. 

 The first drop makes you open wider, sticking your tongue out so that Mike can fill your mouth with his cum and spit, and the fact that you let him is so incredibly arousing, he just might fuck you until he's coming dry. 

 The little pattern is repeated a few times, Mike licking your pussy then spitting everything into your mouth, but he leaves some for lubrication, shoving the last of his cum back inside you when he starts fucking you on his fingers. He keeps you pliant, sucking on your clit so that he can slowly ease his pinky into your ass, and it isn't long before you're letting out breathy little sounds and tensing underneath him. 

 He takes care of you through your orgasm, looking at your face from where he lays. You're so pretty when you come, mouth open, eyebrows high, the picture of ecstasy, and Mike wants to remember it forever. He wants to keep you like this forever. 

 You shudder when he pulls his fingers from you, whine when he slowly laves over your sensitive pussy with his tongue, but after several long licks, Mike crawls back up to lay next to you. 

 "God damn," you laugh. "I had almost forgotten how good you are."

 Mike smirks, kissing your temple and nipping the shell of your ear. "Almost?"

 You nod, a spent smile making your lips curl. "I don't think I could ever fully forget even if I wanted to."

 Humming, he traces fingers over your stomach, now sticky from the mess of precum he had basically slathered you with. 

 "Yeah, we were pretty good for each other when we weren't being stupid," he muses. 

 He should probably step away for a few minutes, hop in the shower and wait for the flood of chemicals in his brain to fall away. 

 "We were, weren't we?" 

 "Mhm."

 Mike dips to press his face into your neck. He just can't stop touching you, can't stop breathing you in. He needs to memorize everything about this—how soft you are underneath him, how you smell like sex and sweat and your perfume, how quiet your voice is when you speak to him. 

 He feels your body rise and fall with a heavy sigh, and he's about to ask if you want to rinse off, but you open your mouth first, thoughtful when you tell him, "I loved you so much, Miche."

 "I know," he replies. Even if he couldn't see it then, he can now. You may not have told him to his face, but if Mike had been just a little smarter back then, he would have realized you were telling him in different ways. "I loved you too."

 He feels you pet his hair, probably a tangled wreck from being pulled. "I, uh…" You swallow hard, and Mike rests his chin on the hand on your chest, your heart beating against his palm a little too fast. 

 "You wanna shower before you say whatever you're about to?" 

 He knows what you're about to tell him. He just wants to make sure you don't regret it when you come back to yourself. "Yeah, probably."

 Both of you leave the bed on unsteady legs, Mike leading you to the shower and setting it to your favored temperature. He stands under the spray with you, taking the brunt of the water while kissing you. You move slowly, tangling your tongue with his, mapping out his body with exploratory hands. 

Mike is the one to break away after several minutes, insisting on soaping you up and dragging his loofah over your skin. He even sinks to his knees, gentle as he cleans your thighs and between them, careful not to get suds anywhere they're not supposed to be. When he’s finished, Mike presses a kiss to your pelvic bone before standing again, grinning when you pull him back to your face. 

 He doesn't have the same, short refractory period he used to otherwise he'd fuck you against the tiled wall, but he's content to stay like this, sucking on your lip and pressing against you. 

 Even after you've been given the chance to get your thoughts in order, you still blink up at Mike, water droplets dotting and falling from your eyelashes as you tell him, "I love you. I still love you. I don't think I can stop."

 He holds your head in his hands, brushes his nose against yours as his chest swells with more emotion than he thinks he can actually handle, and his own confession is easy: "I love you, too." Another soft peck to your lips before he adds, "I think you already knew that, though."

 "Wasn't positive."

 Mike knows there are logistics to consider, but the two of you can work on that later. For now he just wants to finish rinsing off and crawl into bed with you. 

 He should probably change the sheets, though, and find you pajamas, so Mike does exactly that as you traipse back out to the kitchen for some water, wearing absolutely nothing and making him bite his lip. 

 He puts new bedding on the mattress, then digs through his dresser for a t-shirt and boxers. Something catches his eye, printed material that almost makes him laugh out loud. He doesn't know why he still has the shorts, especially since he ruined the shirt a long, long time ago, but he's so glad he does. 

 Pink and covered in palm trees, he can't even fit into them any more, but it's fine. He thinks he knows how he can repurpose them. 

 But first, he needs to call his mom. 

 *

 It's an easy fix, really. Before the Sina project even comes close to wrapping up, Mike finds a place for you in his department, something you hadn't thought possible, but apparently he's kind of a big deal in the field. 

 When he makes you the job offer in the conference room, he's able to keep it professional for a whole three minutes before you agree to the terms, and then he's out of his chair and picking you up to swing around. Just like that, the whole fucking office knows about the two of you. 

 "Ha! You owe me fifty bucks, Moblit!" Hange shouts for everyone to hear, and you shake your head as the quiet man asks if he can Venmo them. 

 "I fucking knew it! I knew there was something going on! God, that's so satisfying. I'm not even mad that you're leaving us."

 "It's been going on for a long time now," you snort. 

 Hange leans against the wall and wriggles their eyebrows, "Yeah, what, like, the whole three months we’ve been here?" 

 "Try ten years," Mike mutters, and the eyes behind Hange's glasses nearly roll out of their head. 

 You and Mike have to sign a few things, contracts and couples disclosures and what not, but you don't mind. 

 The first thing you do is ask for a few days off in order to move, and Mike naturally does the same to help. You live just over three hours away, but are able to recruit some help in the form of your old friends. 

 You let out a shrill scream when you see Erwin step out of his car outside of your apartment complex, all but throw yourself into his arms so that he laughs and squeezes you tight against him. It's been a couple years since you've actually seen him, the distance between you just a little too far, but it's so nice to stare at his stupid face again. 

 Nile is also there with a very pregnant Marie on his arm, and Hitch and Rhi arrive as all the guys are carrying down the first load of packed boxes. 

 "Damn, it has been a long time since we've all been together," you say, looking around at everyone and grinning after you tape up another set of cardboard flaps. 

 "Yeah, kinda weird how we all just get along now," Hitch giggles. 

 "It's almost like we're adults or something," Rhi adds. 

 You pass her the box, but she just groans and passes it to Erwin. 

 Everyone takes turns making trips to Mike's apartment, and the moving effort takes three days in total. You really need to find a way to repay all of them, maybe suggest a nice dinner. 

 "God, why do you own so much shit, babe?" Mike asks after loading the last shelves of a bookcase into his car (that you still hate). 

 "Because everything has sentimental value. Don't judge me."

 "Oh, I'm judging. When'd you get so soft?"

 You roll your eyes and reach past him to close the trunk door. 

 The others are all standing in the parking lot with you, antsy and excited for the two of you, or so you assume. 

 "I really can't thank you guys enough. You've made this so much easier," you tell them. 

 Erwin grins widely and pulls you into a hug, and to your surprise, Hitch slides around you to hold you from behind. It makes you laugh and call them dumb, but when they step back, you're hit with the realization that they weren't just being goofy; they were strategizing, keeping you shielded from Mike who is now kneeling on the asphalt and chewing on his bottom lip. 

 Your eyes grow wide, and you step back only to run straight into Erwin's chest. He puts two, grounding hands on your shoulders, and you can almost feel his smile as Mike reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. 

 A small pink box. 

 A small pink box with pieces of fucking palm trees wrapping around it. 

 "Did you get that fucking upholstered?" You shout, and Mike lets out a giddy laugh, his eyes so narrow from grinning that you can barely see the green. "I don't even wanna open it. I cannot believe—"

 "Good thing you don't have to open it then," he chuckles. “I do.”

 "You are fucking impossible, you know that?" 

 "Yeah," he agrees before prying the ridiculous box apart and revealing a ring that makes you tear up. 

 It isn't huge, but it's far from plain, sparkling stones wrapping around it with a larger, round cut in the middle. It's extremely pretty and very you, and oh, you wanna put it on, you wanna put it on right now. 

 "Don't look too impressed. Mom helped me pick it out, and it’s all ethically sourced, of course," Mike says, and you wipe your eyes while giggling. 

 "Oh my god, she's crying!" Rhi yells. 

 "Shut up, it's because of that atrocious box."

 Mike looks behind you at Erwin. "I knew she'd love it."

 "Yeah, good call, bro."

 "I hate both of you."

 "Still gonna marry me, though, right?" Mike is still grinning, but you can see the barest hint of worry in his eyes, and you can't blame him because this is big. This is commitment. Marriage. He wants you to marry him. 

 And, some will say it’s too quick, that you’ve only been actually dating for a couple of months, but it makes sense because if you’re being honest, you never really fell out of love with Mike. He’s always been nestled deep in your heart.

 "Against my better judgement," you smirk. 

 He stands up quick enough to make himself dizzy, has to brace a hand on his car as he kisses you. 

 "Finally!" Erwin shouts, clapping his hands and being joined by the others. 

 Mike slides the ring from the terrible box, pushes it onto your finger with shaky hands, and when you admire it in the sun, you look at him and nod. "Very nice, Zacharias. Even in the parking lot setting."

 "I just wanted everyone to be here! If we went somewhere fancy, you would've figured it out."

 That's true. Going to some nice restaurant or quaint little park would have definitely tipped you off. 

 "Also, you know once we're married, you will also be Zacharias."

 "Yeah," you nod thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess I will be. Hey," you look at him with raised eyebrows. "Wanna shotgun beers at the wedding?" 

 Mike laughs loudly. "That is how it all started, isn't it?" 

 "Yeah, this stupid frat boy in a Hawaiian shirt came up to me and demanded I shotgun a room temp beer."

 "Sounds like an asshole," Mike chuckles. 

 You shrug as he pulls you into his chest and sigh into his shirt, "He turned out alright, I guess."

[daydream-believin]

MERLIN’S APPRENTICE & MERLIN’S CHAMPION || trollhunters

warnings: swearing

a/n: if rott gave me anything it gave me this idea

I KNOW I SAID “JUICY” BUT REALLY THAT WAS JUST THE ANGST POTENTIAL,, THAT IM NOT INDULGING IN THIS POST IM SORRY LMAO

OKAY WHAT IM REALLY TALKING BOUT HERE IS A GOOD MERLIN/ARTHUR BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS

no sorry i haven’t seen bbc merlin don’t come for me i’m ignorant

OKAY SO

we know douxie kept an eye on the human trollhunter and co

but douxie’s really having a hard time convincing himself he’s just doing his job

he’s actually enjoying this a little too much despite how boring staying in the shadows is

and he’s kinda worried?

so he’s got this bright idea: you know what would better help him keeps tabs? if he befriends this person

and so he does

fuck merlin’s shadows

sod the rules

ofc he’s very up front about knowing they’re the trollhunter and that he’s merlin’s apprentice

we wouldn’t want that to become a huge festering secret that eats douxie from the inside out until the inevitable reveal when merlin calls them both to help with the arcane order and they realize they’ve both been lying to each other’s faces for months/years and neither of them know if they could ever trust the other again, right? — phew *catches breath*

but before you know it, mr. casperan and mx. trollhunter are best friends

he’s basically the toby to your jim

and you’re very happy to have a best friend like douxie

he understands that monster hunting hustle

he’s the only person you can vent to and actually talk about what’s going on without sounding like a loon

and douxie likes being able to tell someone all his frustrations with merlin, since you’re also in that boat with him

you spar sometimes. it’s fun, but you’re very careful not to accidentally hurt your friend (he’s extremely careful not to hurt you or wound your ego by effortlessly wiping you out)

ofc, there’s the occasional, brushing of hands, faces a little too close together, accidentally winding up on top of one another, purposefully winding up on top of one another 👀 you know how sparring be

you and douxie are a duo. a duo who have become trollmarket’s resident troublemakers, to vendel’s exasperation

you guys tease each other a lot

you do a lot of stupid shit, cause hey, now you have magic armor and a magic sword and a magic best friend, did you think you wouldn’t get up to some shenanigans?

douxie is your impulse control and he’s not a very good one, as he’s just as bad

truthfully archie has the brain cell

and pranks? gods the pranks. you two are always either pranking each other or you’re teaming up to prank some other troll who said smth mean to you in the pub. vendel had to personally put a stop to it (read: chew you out)

doux thinks the world of you tho, you’re such a noble knight, and likes to tell people about how you’re a cinnamon roll, so innocent, so pure

and then they meet you and you directly contradict those statements

trollhunter: i’ve never done anything wrong in my life, ever

douxie: i know this and i love you

(spoiler: you’ve done lots and lots of wrong)

doux spends an awful lot of time slinking around trollmarket now, and he’s in the know for everything that’s happening

(no more being kept in the dark for this wizard apprentice)

and doux knows merlin won’t completely approve of this, but hey, it’s not like he’s helping and thus directly disobeying

really, he’s not helping you at all, it’s really fucking annoying

okay so mayyybe the occasional healing spell. you’ve got those puppy dog eyes he can’t say no to

but you understand his sense of duty, or whatever it is that drives a follower, technically being a follower of merlin yourself

you respect the old geezer (as you have not been turned into a half-troll yet) as a wise mythical figure, and as your best friend’s father

and what a perfect match you are for each other, champion and apprentice, mutually being screwed over by a guy you both think has all the answers

you and douxie help each other grow in your self-worths, that you two are more than the chances merlin has given to you

unfortunately, mortifyingly, you have caught feelings.

douxie has also caught feelings, and is saying nothing yep you have enough on your plate without him putting this on you so he’ll just quietly pine and suffer don’t mind him choking to death in the corner when you take off your helmet and throw back your hair

y’all’s problem really starts manifesting itself as protectiveness. you are really protective of your wizard and he is really protective of his knight

lots of things said that are Not What Friends Say but neither of you really want to be the one to point that out

lots and lots of i love yous that slowly get more and more serious until it’s not exactly platonic anymore

and it’s just really nice to have someone to get coffee (or your favored hot drink) with at four in the morning after a tussle with a troll

and that’s basically how you and douxie spend the bulk of trollhunters, just vibing

as much as you can vibe, with all the changelings and shit trying to murder you all the time

then merlin wakes up and shakes up your world

you are aware of your impending doom

you’re aware of it

merlin keeps looking you up and down like he’s mentally making up the measurements of your coffin

and tbh the idea of fighting gunmar freaks you tf out

and you’re supposed to win that fight?

gods

you’re preparing for your nightmares coming true soon

truthfully you knew your fucking job had a 100% mortality rate

you don’t want to die with regrets

so

you spill

you spill all the things you’d wanted to tell him and how much he means to you and that you couldn’t bear it if you were a goner before he knew

miraculously, douxie feels the same and tells you all the things he’d been holding back and and what you mean to him and how much he wants to protect you, that you’re gonna make it, if he had anything to say about it

and everything is perfect for one night

now you have a real reason to win

not that saving humanity isn’t a big responsibility on your shoulders and definitely A Reason

but knowing douxie’s waiting for you, for the life you’ll build together after this, the peace you’ll both have, it’s absolutely a big motivation to give your all and come out victorious and survive

hahaha loser you don’t know about the arcane order

and then merlin uses your microwave to cook a weird potion

you and merlin are alone in the house, but there’s no real mind games necessary. you may have grown past thinking he was a god, but in the end, you’re still a follower of merlin, and if merlin thinks this could give you an edge, well, who are you to question his methods

doesn’t mean you aren’t nervous as your master hands you the bottle

yet you don’t even hesitate to drown yourself in the black abyss of the tub

whatever it takes amirite?

and now you’re a half-troll

a sexy half-troll, if you do say so yourself

yeah, no ‘i’m a monster’ angst here, you’re loving the power-up

you’ve got to treat it like a cool new power-up or you will cry actually tbh i lied about the no-angst thing a new body is disorienting

your only real concern is douxie

not concerned for long tho, he sees you and the first thing out of his mouth is “nuclear!”

and he senses your concern, so he does go out of his way to assure you that boy, girl, enby, or half-troll, he loves you for your soul, darling

also again half-troll! you is hot as hell so he’s not really losing anything here 👀

he makes sure you know that too, not to let any insecurities fester

him raking his eyes up and down you gives the opposite effect of the dread merlin sent down your spine doing it

anyways,,,

doux helps out a lot more in the eternal night

like helps merlin re-defeat and re-seal morgana

he’ll do it again in few weeks but with a bigger role you know, this is practice

thank merlin for that edge YOU ARE THE LAST TROLLHUNTER YOU ARE VICTORIOUS YOUVE GOT GUNMARS HEAD IN YOUR HANDS HAHAHA

but now you’ve got to go to new jersey

douxie’s been instructed to stay in arcadia tho 🥺

it’s okay, you’ll see each other again soon

sooner than you realize

and until then you talk each other to sleep every night over the phone <3

merlins glad, actually. he’s glad hisirdoux found some solace. even if it is with the lamb he was raising for the slaughter. maybe things will go okay for them. the time map suggests it might be so

hisirdoux may have done things in a way he didn’t quite approve of, but that’s because he’s becoming his own wizard, and merlin is proud

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Afraid to Love Again

Lady Tamayo x They/Them Reader

A/N: Heyooo. Tamayo is great, but I kind of struggle writing her. I tried anyway though because I love this demon doctor lady. Be prepared for sickness, death and a dash of angst. There is a happy ending though (my delicate heart wouldn’t be able to take it if there wasn’t)!  Also, it’s kinda a reincarnation/ soulmate kind of deal but I didn’t really develop that angle too much. And I can’t remember how much of Tamayo’s backstory was discussed in the manga vs the anime so just a heads up on that. It’s not super spoilery or anything (I think you could guess how that went) but just in case I thought I’d let y’all know. Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 6,939

The village had fallen on hard times. Work was scarce, poverty and disease was rampant. Over the past several months, (Y/n) had seen many family, friends and neighbors fall ill and never rise again. Those who had the strength to leave did, and many offered passage to (Y/n) as well. Though they were thankful for the offers of sanctuary, (Y/n) remained in their family home. They converted it into a makeshift hospital and began caring for the people who no longer could take care of themselves.

There were no doctors in their little village. The nearest, (Y/n) heard was days away. They couldn’t risk leaving all of these sick souls without someone to look after them, they would surely be dead before they could get back. If these people, their people, were going to die either way, they wanted to be there to make the process as easy as possible.

(Y/n) had seen more death and sickness than most. They had almost forgotten what it was like to truly live.

“(Y/n)-san?”

(Y/n) paused their movements wiping sweat from an old woman’s body, and turned to the cot behind them.

“Yes, Ichiro?” (Y/n) smiled kindly, though their eyes reflected just how tired they were.

“I don’t feel so good.” The young child coughed harshly.

“I know, I’m sorry. Let me get you some water.”

(Y/n) quickly finished bathing the old woman left behind by her family and tucked her in. (Y/n) suspected she’d be dead before the next morning. The rattling, gurgling breaths were just about the only sign that she wasn’t already gone.

(Y/n) put the rag in a basket to be washed for later, then they retrieved some water for the sick boy. They made their way through the sea of moaning people waiting for death, checking in with the more lucid villagers as they went.

(Y/n) was caring for thirty-seven people in their ancestral home and they did so alone. Any healthy people that remained in the village avoided the plagued building at all costs. It was hard work, keeping all of these people as comfortable as they could. But compared to the seventy people they had started with during those first weeks of winter, it was much more manageable.

“Here you go, drink as much as you can.” (Y/n) spoke softly, helping the boy sit up to receive it.

He took a few sips before spluttering, excess water slipped down his chin. He sniffed and held his throat, curling back into himself.

(Y/n) skimmed their hand over Ichiro’s burning forehead and watched him struggle forlornly.

How much longer would they all have to live in this hell?

(Y/n)’s question, however rhetoric, was answered the next night.

(Y/n) groaned between blinks of sleep. They had fallen asleep while standing, again. The noise that so rudely awakened them sounded like someone was rattling the door of the main entrance.

Who could it be at this hour? Weary travelers? Surely they had a fair choice in vacated homes already. No matter, (Y/n) figured once they caught the full blast of the smell of death permeating the air they would retreat quickly enough.

They approached the door sliding it open with little preamble. Even if the smell wasn’t enough to deter the unwanted guests, surely the look of utter despair (Y/n) wore would scare them off.

“I’m afraid if you came searching for lodging, I cannot take you.” (Y/n) spoke, barely perceiving the two people before them. “There are, however, many empty homes you have passed by that you are more than welcome to help yourselves too. I would recommend to be on your way quickly, sickness is rampant here.”

“That is why I’ve come.”

(Y/n) allowed themself a puzzled face, finally looking at the woman and her stern looking companion more carefully, taking in the delicate beauty of the stranger before them.

“I’m a doctor.”

(Y/n) suddenly felt more awake, staring at the woman with unrestrained hope and awe.

“Really?” They whispered, as if afraid this was all just a dream or a sleep deprived hallucination.

“Are you doubting her?” The young man spoke up sharply.

“Yushirou.” The woman warned, leveling a look at her companion that immediately shut him back up. The woman turned back to (Y/n). The soft, empathetic look in her eyes made (Y/n) feel weak. The softness of her voice as she addressed (Y/n) again made them feel fragile, all the while they shook like a leaf.

“Allow me to evaluate your sick. I’ll do everything I can.”

“Please,” (Y/n) nodded, making room for the pair to enter their home turned sick ward, “even in my wildest dreams I never thought anyone would actually come for us. I’ve tried so hard to save these people, but I am no doctor.”

The woman came forward, gingerly taking (Y/n)’s shaking hands in her own. (Y/n) noted how cold they were but still held on to the offered hands like a lifeline.

“You’ve done well with what you have, your kindness is immeasurable. Sleep now, and leave the rest to us.”

“Who are you?” (Y/n) asked, suddenly feeling as if they were about to collapse. Just hearing those words was like a weight was dropped from their aching shoulders. The woman caught them before they could fall, the young man, Yushirou, let out a strangled noise of displeasure but stayed back.

“You may call me Tamayo.”

***

When (Y/n) awoke, it was still dark. They assumed they must have only slept a few hours. At least, they thought so until they noticed a crack of sunlight shining between the curtains.

(Y/n) held their head in their hands and grimaced. They couldn’t even remember the last time they had slept in their own bed before now. They didn’t even remember how they got there. They sighed. It didn’t matter, they needed to get up and see how everyone was doing. They had already been negligent long enough.

(Y/n) noticed as they walked through the halls that all the curtains were drawn. They found it odd. The curtains were always kept open regularly, (Y/n) couldn’t be bothered to deal with such minor details in the grand scheme of things and they wouldn’t start now. They left the curtains closed and continued on their way.

“What are you doing up already?”

(Y/n) turned, shocked at the clear and present voice. It had been a long time since they heard someone who sounded so strong and healthy. They turned and saw a grumpy boy staring sternly at them.

“Who are you?” (Y/n) asked, holding on to the wall as a dizzy spell passed through them.

“Tsk, get back to bed. You clearly aren’t well.” The boy said.

“Yushirou? Did you find any— oh, awake already? You should rest more.” (Y/n) turned back down the opposite side of the hall and saw the woman who had been in their restless dreams the night before.

“You’re... You’re real?” (Y/n) asked, mostly to themself, peering at the woman with blurred vision.

“Yes,” Tamayo smiled sadly approaching (Y/n), “you don’t need to worry anymore. Yushirou and I are taking care of things. Please, rest.”

“No, wait. I want to help. Please, teach me everything you know.” (Y/n) pleaded, sliding to their knees as they gave out.

“Like you could help anyone like this. You were already way past your limits before. Stay out of Lady Tamayo’s way.” Yushirou stated harshly.

“No need to speak in such a cold manner, Yushirou.” Tamayo scolded lightly before coming to kneel at (Y/n)’s side, rubbing their back. “How about this, you rest until you are back to full health, then you may observe my work. Is this acceptable?”

(Y/n) frowned, but nodded in agreement. “Yes, thank you.”

“Of course. Yushirou, help our host back to their room please.”

Yushirou readily complied, easily picking (Y/n) up and retiring them to their room.

“And stay there this time.” He grumbled.

(Y/n) fell back asleep almost immediately and when they awoke once more, another day had come and gone. They felt a lot better, just hungry. So they got up and made their way back down the hall to see what was left of the foraging they had done a couple days prior. Hopefully, Tamayo and Yushirou were well versed in the plant life of the area and got some more.

They stopped at the sick ward first to see how things were going. Yushirou wasn’t around, but (Y/n) saw Tamayo whispering to a sick man. Whatever she had asked him, he shook his head looking a tad uncomfortable. (Y/n) moved closer and Tamayo turned, like she could sense their presence and offered a tight smile.

“You look much better. How are you feeling?” She asked.

“As good as I can be. How have things been going here?”

“I apologize, we lost three while you slept.” Tamayo informed solemnly.

“You don’t need to apologize. It means the world to us that you care to try at all.” (Y/n) replied, sincerely. “I’m sure you’ve noticed we don’t have very much in value. Not many people would work like this for no incentive.”

“You must be one of them.” Tamayo’s eyes softened, “you could have left, but you stayed with them. You have a kind heart.”

“...Thank you.” (Y/n) rubbed the back of their neck and looked away, feeling heat gather around their cheeks.

“I just realized I don’t know your name.” Tamayo said. “How rude of me to not ask sooner.”

“It’s alright. I haven’t exactly been conscious most of the time you’ve been here.” (Y/n) let out a dry laugh, “I’m (Y/n).”

“Just (Y/n)?” Tamayo blinked.

“If I can call you Tamayo, please call me (Y/n).”

“Very well, (Y/n).” Tamayo smiled. “I have a few more people to visit with at the moment. Would you care to observe?”

“Yes, I—“ (Y/n) stomach growled before they could finish speaking, they held onto their gut, abashed.

“Oh, you haven’t eaten? You should have told me, we must keep you healthy. Come,” Tamayo guided (Y/n) to their own kitchen where Yushirou was watching over a boiling pot.

“Yushirou, when the broth is done give (Y/n) a bowl please.” Tamayo asked.

“I just finished it Tamayo-sama. I’ll get on it right now.”

(Y/n) slurped down the broth with vigor and thanked Yushirou profusely, making him blush and turn away. They fed the rest to the sick. (Y/n) had asked Tamayo and Yushirou why they hadn’t taken any for themselves to which Tamayo replied that they had already eaten not long before (Y/n) had woken up.

After a long day of absorbing any teachings Tamayo had to share, (Y/n) was sent back to bed for the night much to their dismay.

“But, I slept just recently! I can still help!” (Y/n) frowned as Tamayo ushered them back to their room.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but humans are supposed to go to sleep every night. Yushirou and I have everything under control.” Tamayo assured.

“You guys need to sleep sometime too you know.” (Y/n) retorted.

“Don’t worry, we rest in turns.” Tamayo spoke. (Y/n) couldn’t explain why, but they felt as if Tamayo was being a bit deceitful with her words. However, they let her be for now and went back to bed without anymore fuss.

When (Y/n) woke up the next morning, they were surprised to see that some of the people looked much better already. Of course they were still quite ill, but (Y/n) felt hopeful for them. Unfortunately, the man, Jiro, that (Y/n) had seen Tamayo talking to the day before had died sometime in the night. A few others seemed to be not far behind him in that aspect. Still, (Y/n) worked hard and learned everything they could about the medicines Tamayo crafted and how to distribute them.

“Tamayo?” (Y/n) asked one night before being sent back to bed by the motherly woman.

“Yes, (Y/n)?”

“I was just wondering... what made you come through here? Our village hasn’t had outsiders since last spring, if even then.”

“I was simply looking for somewhere quiet to practice my craft. We were passing through when we realized this village was a little, too quite.”

“Mm, yeah... well, you’re welcome to stay. You can even live here forever if you want, I don’t mind.”

“That’s a rather, bold, offer.” Tamayo replied after a short pause. It was then that (Y/n) realized how that may have sounded and got embarrassed.

“I mean, because— sorry if that was weird. I just, it’s nice having you and Yushirou-san around. I can tell your both good people, you know? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!”

“You didn’t,” Tamayo had a far away look in her eye, but she still reached out to pat (Y/n)’s arm in a gesture of kindness, “I appreciate the sentiment, but it will be best for all of we take our leave once we are done here.”

“I see,” (Y/n) tried to keep the disappointment out of their voice, “we’ll just have to make the most out of the time we do have.”

“I suppose. If that is what you wish.”

Over the next several days (Y/n) noticed several odd little behaviors and happenings in their home. They went out one morning to gather certain plants and herbs for Tamayo and when the came back, they noticed a piece of paper with a strange symbol drawn on it that they had never seen before. They questioned Yushirou about it since he was the first one they saw upon returning.

Yushirou scoffed, saying it was a healing symbol and told (Y/n) under no uncertain terms that they shouldn’t look at it, much less even think about touching it. (Y/n) promised him they wouldn’t and backed away into the kitchen with their basket of herbs and a bead of nervous sweat running down their chin.

They also noticed how neither Tamayo or Yushirou appeared to ever eat or sleep when they were around. Even when (Y/n) made something as light as tea, they were refused by both travelers.

Another oddity was that Yushirou always yelled at (Y/n) for peeking through curtains to see if the sun was shining. For some reason, he and Lady Tamayo did not seem to be fond of the sun. Perhaps they were just light sensitive or burned easily. They both seemed to be very fair skinned. (Y/n) was often sent off alone on errands during the day as well. They didn’t complain though, they were happy to help in anyway they could, even if the doctor and her assistant were a bit odd.

Stranger yet was how Tamayo would speak so softly to the deathly ill who showed no signs of recovery. The soft lilt of Tamayo’s voice was not what (Y/n) found strange, they were quite enamored with its dreamlike quality. It was the soft urgency in which she spoke so quietly that always left (Y/n) curious. They only witnessed such events a few times, but they always had ended with the recipient of Tamayo’s whispered words dead mere hours later.

(Y/n) didn’t fault Tamayo for such coincidences. The good doctor probably knew who would die the second she entered the room that first night. (Y/n) figured she was just giving them some form of solace in their final hours to help them find peace.

It was one night where (Y/n) had woken up with a painful thirst for water when things became... complicated.

“We need to think about leaving soon, Tamayo-sama.” (Y/n) heard Yushirou speak as they neared the kitchen. “You have already gone past your limit of resistance by a few days.”

“I’ll be fine, Yushirou. Soon there will be a good handful of people who will have their strength back. (Y/n) still has much I can teach them... we mustn’t leave just yet.”

“The blood here is diseased and of poor quality, even if you could get some without anyone noticing, it would not be filling enough to do much good. Please my lady, let’s keep moving to the next city like we planned.” Yushirou stressed.

“I can’t Yushirou, not when these people need help that only I can adequately provide. I can go a little longer...”

(Y/n) stood still in the hall as they listened in. Tamayo needed blood? For what, a transfusion? They took a deep breath and entered the room.

“If you need blood—“

The air was suddenly knocked out of their lungs as Yushirou came forward with inhumane speed and knocked (Y/n) hard into the back wall.

“Spying? Why couldn’t you just keep your nose away from where it doesn’t belong!” Yushirou hissed, tightening his hold.

“Yushirou!” Tamayo warned, coming up behind him, willing him to loosen his grip, “don’t hurt them.”

Yushirou clicked his tongue in agitation and allowed (Y/n) to slide to the ground in a fit of gasps and coughs.

Tamayo knelt beside them and checked them over with a worried frown.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). You aren’t hurt are you?”

(Y/n) took a moment to catch their breath before answering, “I, I don’t think so.” They coughed again, “Damn Yushirou, you are a lot tougher than you look!”

Yushirou growled, but upon seeing the stern look Tamayo leveled at him he backed off and looked away, almost sheepish. He looked more like a scolded guard dog than anything else.

Tamayo turned back to (Y/n) looking forlorn, “How much did you hear?”

“You need blood or you’ll have to leave.” (Y/n) answered honestly, “If you need blood, you can have some of mine... I don’t know if it’s the right type, but if it’s what you need, I’ll be more than happy to give it to you.”

Tamayo shook her head. “(Y/n), I don’t think you understand what you are offering.”

“It’s my blood, I’ll offer it to whomever I please,” (Y/n) staggered back to their feet, “and I want to give it to you. You don’t even need to tell me what for.”

Tamayo scanned (Y/n)’s face before closing her eyes and turning away. She walked towards a nearby window and pulled open the curtains, allowing the full moonlight to glide over her skin and flowery kimono. (Y/n) swallowed thickly, clearing their throat they turned to look out the window as well. The young doctor was bewitchingly beautiful and (Y/n) could not risk missing whatever Tamayo had to say.

“Before you commit yourself to this decision, you must first understand what I am.”

“Tamayo-sama!” Yushirou called out only for Tamayo to raise her hand to call for his silence.

“...What you are?” (Y/n) cocked their head to the side, confused. “You look like a normal person to me.”

“That’s what makes a lot of my kind so dangerous.” Tamayo sighed, her eyes still trained on the moon, “Monsters in human skin. Although there are many who wear their sin in grotesque and prideful ways.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but it’s not like all humans are great people either. Like how Ichiro’s parents left him here after he got sick and still haven’t wrote back like they promised. Even if you are different from humans as you are claiming, I can’t say that your any worse than the people I know. In fact, I’d say you’re better than a lot of the people I know.” (Y/n) tried to explain.

“I’ve done more evil and unforgivable deeds in my time on this earth than I could ever atone for. Even as I work to do better I know I can’t take back all the harm I’ve caused.” Tamayo shook her head and turned to (Y/n), cupping their cheek with a chilled hand, “I’ve aided in more atrocities than you have years on this planet. Do not let what you’ve seen of me in these short weeks fool you.”

“Okay, so you’re committed to believing your evil and irredeemable, is that right?” (Y/n) grasped the hand at their cheek, holding it in their own, “Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to believe that. I don’t know what you’ve done, but you’re obviously torn up about it. I can’t say someone who was pure evil would think twice about that.”

Tamayo pulled her hand away, cradling it close to her chest and turned back to the window with a slight tremble before whispering, “I’m a demon, (Y/n). I’ve turned Yushirou as well. We get by on blood these days but before then, I have killed and devoured many humans in five hundred years. Tell me now you don’t find me repulsive.”

“I don’t!” (Y/n) spoke immediately and resolutely, surprising the demon doctor and Yushirou to an extent with their resolve. “I don’t know who you were or what you were going through back then, but the Tamayo I know is kind enough to stop in some nowhere village to take care of sick people she doesn't even know while expecting nothing in return. I can’t say my word means very much in the grand scheme of things, but I don’t think you’re a monster. Monsters don’t mourn over their victims. I think you’re a good person Tamayo, worthy of my blood if you’ll just let me give it to you.”

The determined look on (Y/n)’s face made Tamayo feel as if she’d seen a specter from her past. She felt tempted to reach out again but held back, afraid of what, she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell. (Y/n) took her silence as a hesitation and insisted once more, bearing their arm up to the crook of their elbow.

“Take what you two need. Please don’t make me try to do it myself.”

Tamayo closed the distance between them quickly and held (Y/n)’s arms as if she was frightened of them doing something dangerous to themself.

“Yushirou, please get the phlebotomy kit from the travel bag.” Tamayo asked softly.

Yushirou nodded. Though he was not particularly fond of how close his master was to the human, he was glad she would finally be getting some sustenance.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” (Y/n) tried to joke to lighten the mood.

“You can revoke your offer whenever you wish. If you want us to leave you may ask us to do so without fear. I promise you.” Tamayo said, nothing but sincerity in her tone.

“I’ll keep it in mind, but I’ll do no such thing. Now, I hope you don’t think it rude of me for drinking some water myself first before I get you your... beverage. It was the whole reason I was walking through in the first place.” (Y/n) said as they walked across the kitchen and fetched some water.

Tamayo’s lips curled ever so slightly into a wisp of a smile aimed at (Y/n)’s back as they drank.

***

Now that (Y/n) knew they were sheltering a couple of demons, the strange behaviors they had noted prior made more sense and they took them in stride. They loved teasing Tamayo and Yushirou about the quality of their blood. Often making Tamayo flush faintly or earn a quick jab to the chest from Yushirou that was probably harder than he should be hitting a fragile human.

They kept the knowledge of their species to themself, not wanting to stress the sick or endanger Tamayo in some way. They had since learned that the strange papers that were littered around their house were actually some kind of warding seal that Yushirou could produce to keep their presence hidden to outsiders. If all that Tamayo had told (Y/n) about the realness of demons held true, they were surprised that they hadn’t encountered them sooner. Perhaps the constant scent of death and decay had kept them at bay, figuring there was no fresh flesh to tear into.

However, that was all changing now. Of the twenty-six remaining villagers, twenty-five were making marked improvements in their health and many could even walk about the the house without being too fatigued. (Y/n) had smiled so brightly when they saw Ichiro slide out of bed one morning that they had brought a hand to their mouth in delighted shock. They couldn’t remember the last time they had smiled so earnestly. Tamayo had surprised them, taking their hand away from their mouth.

“Let your joy shine through. The light you have to share could lift anyone’s spirits. I know it has lifted mine, so don’t hide please.” Tamayo said kindly.

“Right!” (Y/n) laughed sheepishly as heat crawled up their neck. They were sure Tamayo could hear the blood rushing through their system but thankfully she was polite enough not to comment on it.

“(Y/n)-san, can you take us outside?” One of the other young children asked.

“Mhm, only for a little bit though. Don’t want to over do it now, do we?”

“Tamayo-san, do you want to come?” Ichiro asked hopefully.

“Tamayo-san is very busy. But I’m sure she’ll be happy to read you a story later. Won’t that be nice?” (Y/n) smiled, saving Tamayo from having to come up with an excuse to avoid the brightness of the spring sun.

A small group gathered and slowly made their way outside, blinking hard against the bright sun stinging their eyes. Still, they felt overjoyed. Many never thought they’d make it through the winter so they took in the scenery before them with a range of emotions.

When they returned, (Y/n) helped everyone get settled again. As they did, they noticed Tamayo speaking quietly to the young woman in the corner cot. She had been fighting against the illness for a particularly long time and had been getting worse as of late. Keeping the interaction in mind, (Y/n) made their way to the kitchens to see if Yushirou needed any assistance with lunch. Now that everyone’s appetites were returning they had to produce a bit more than they had in the past.

When everyone was fed, (Y/n) had managed to find Tamayo alone. The doctor had found the old ceremonial tea room and enjoyed the space, so naturally (Y/n) had given her permission to do with it what she liked. (Y/n) knocked and announced themself, waiting for Tamayo to beckon them in before entering.

“(Y/n), does someone need something? Do you need something?” Tamayo asked, momentarily pausing in her herb crushing to look up at them.

“No, everything seems fine right now. Although Kotori does not appear to be doing well at all.” (Y/n) sighed, kneeling across from Tamayo. “...She’s going to die, isn’t she?”

“Yes.” Tamayo nodded solemnly. “I gave her medicine to dull her pain, but she’ll be dead before the next morning. There is nothing more I can do for her.”

“What do you tell them?” (Y/n) asked, “I mean, I’ve noticed how you talk to the dying ones before they pass. What do you say to someone who’s dying like that?”

“Many times they already know the end is near and have accepted it. Many are relieved to know the fighting and pain is almost over for them. What I offer them... is a second chance at life.”

(Y/n)’s eyes narrowed in concentration before shooting back open. “You offered to turn them into demons, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It can be, only if you don’t have someone to look out for you and remind you who you are. I would be there for them as I was for Yushirou of course.” Tamayo assured, though she looked guilty. “You must think it cruel of me to offer this cursed existence.”

“Not at all. Many people fear death. I can especially understand it from a perspective of those who have yet to truly live. As long as they can remember their humanity, I don’t have a problem with it.” (Y/n) smiled, “I’m sure with you to guide them they would be just fine.”

Tamayo blushed and got back to work, grinding her herbs.

“Though I’m surprised, has no one taken up your offer since you got here?”

Tamayo shook her head, but a small smile pulled at her lips, “No. I’m content with their choices though. I think they were all very brave choosing to face the unknown.”

“Speaking of unknown,” (Y/n) mumbled between their fingers as they watched Tamayo carefully scoop her powder into a jar before moving on to the next herb. “Everyone will be more or less back to full health soon... are you still planning on leaving?”

“(Y/n), we’ve already discussed this,” Tamayo frowned, “I was never meant to stay here.”

“But you could.” (Y/n) said, an almost frantic waver in their voice, “you taught me a lot about medicine and how to be a physician, but you’ve quite literally have hundreds of years more experience than I do. Not to mention everyone here loves you, I love you—“ (Y/n) tried to shut themself up but it was too late. As made evident by the roundness of Tamayo’s eyes.

“Oh (Y/n), I’m sorry.” Tamayo said, the pestle held in between her fingers shook.

“Don’t be sorry, just, stay?” (Y/n) stuttered. “You can forget the last part if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“This just further proves that I mustn’t be here.” Tamayo put the pestle down and covered her eyes with her hands.

(Y/n)’s heart ached so much they felt compelled to rub the the spot in an attempt to soothe it. “Is the idea of me loving you really that awful?” They asked, a watery chuckle falling from their lips.

“(Y/n), it’s not that simple.” Tamayo tried to explain, but (Y/n) was already getting up and heading out of the room.

“It’s fine. I’ll try to stay out of your way. Stick around a bit longer for the sake of the village is all I ask.” (Y/n) didn’t wait for an answer. They went to their room and felt numb the rest of the day.

They were jostled out of their upset thoughts by the sound of pounding feet drawing closer and before they could react any further, Yushirou barged in practically foaming at the mouth. (Y/n) was not intimidated by the display however.

“Would it kill you to knock?”

“What have you done to upset Tamayo-sama?” He seethed, his voice a dangerous whisper.

“I’ve momentarily burdened her with my feelings. Don’t worry, once you get on the road again I’m sure she’ll feel much better. And you’ll have her all to yourself again, you must be thrilled.” (Y/n) bitterly informed.

“Don’t speak as if this is no large matter, you’ve left Tamayo-sama very distraught! What did you do? Why was she crying?”

“Crying?” (Y/n) asked, the information chilled them like a sudden torrential rainfall.

“Yes! Now what did you say to her you mongrel? Spit it out!” Yushirou growled, grabbing at the neck of (Y/n)’s clothing to shake them around a bit.

“I kinda... told her I loved her?”

“You what?!” Yushirou bellowed with rage and envy befitting a rival.

“I’m pretty sure you heard me the first time.” (Y/n) still had the gall to tease the demon knowing full well he could think of ten different ways to kill them with one hand tied behind his back.

“You idiot! Don’t you know what she’s been through? And you just think you can say such things and be on your merry way? Honestly, a goddess like her should not have to shed tears for such insolence!”

“What are you talking about?” (Y/n) grunted. The hold Yushirou had them in was very uncomfortable.

“If I tell you, you must never bring this up to Tamayo-sama, and you will apologize right away for your unsavory actions. Do you understand?”

“...yes.” (Y/n) nodded tentatively. Yushirou let go of them and they rubbed at their tender flesh where he had dug in.

“Tamayo-sama was ill once as well,” Yushirou began, observing the books (Y/n) had strewn around the room with a bit of disdain for the mess, “when she was human, she was desperately searching for a cure that would save her from an agonizing death. Then, as fate would have it, one day she met a man who promised her a cure for her ailment. What that man did to her turned her into a demon. It was true that Tamayo-sama was freed from the pains of her illness, but at the cost of everything she held dear. For you see, the man had not explained what she would become and with no way to control herself, she had killed and devoured her husband and children.” Yushirou crossed his arms tightly, “Do you understand now? Can you imagine what that must have been like?”

“I had no idea.” (Y/n) looked down at their feet.

“Yeah, then you come in and— argh! What are you still hanging around for? Go apologize already! You’ve already waited the daylight away, get moving!”

“Okay, I’m going! I’m going!” (Y/n) batted the angry demon away and jogged down the hall. They checked every room until they made it to the sick bay.

They asked around and quickly learned that Tamayo had gone out for a moonlit walk. They thanked the patients and quickly made their way out the door, shutting it tightly behind them.

They looked out from the engawa, scanning the scenery they saw no sign of the demon doctor. Deciding the nearby forest was their best bet, they hopped off of the engawa, bare feet against the grass and dirt, and jogged into the woods.

“Tamayo?” (Y/n) called for her, searching around for any clues to her whereabouts.

They traveled deeper still, teasing the edge of the deep woods where not even the sun could shine through on the brightest of days, much less the soft reflection of the moon. They heard a rustle.

“Tamayo?”

(Y/n) felt the hairs on the neck and arms scrape to attention. Their heart was beating frantically as the noise drew closer. It couldn’t be Tamayo, she surely would have called out in return.

Then, (Y/n) screamed.

They couldn’t remember how they had ended up on the ground. They blinked sluggishly up at the moon only for it to be blocked moments later by a blurry figure. (Y/n) swore they saw swirls of colorful flowers dancing at the corners of their vision. (Y/n) winced and gurgled. Why did their chest hurt so bad, what was this pressure?

“(Y/n), please, tell me what to do. What do you want me to do?” A muffled voice cried, confusing (Y/n).

They tried to take in another breath but it just felt like they were drowning. The voice sounded farther away, but no less pleading, mixed with far away screams and angry yells. Neither of which sounded like they belonged to the figure before them.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

‘For what?’ (Y/n) wondered, the pain had faded greatly. Whatever was happening, it was better than the pain. Perhaps they could go back to sleep now.

And so, they did.

***

When (Y/n) awoke, it was to the soft brushing of knuckles against their hair which was almost immediately drowned out by a ferocious hunger. They bent to snap at the fingers but something had kept them restrained. (Y/n) struggled and growled, the need to tear into flesh was, all too fittingly, consuming them.

“(Y/n), take a little at a time. Control yourself.” The voice beside them gently urged, presenting (Y/n) with a tube. They were highly uninterested at first until the further end of the tube was released from a pinched grip and allowed blood to flow down to their waiting mouth. It wasn’t fresh or hot, but it was better than nothing. After a few minutes of stopping and starting the thick slide of blood, the figure took the tube away all together, causing (Y/n) to growl and hiss with displeasure.

“You will need to learn to pace yourself, the sooner you do, the better.” The soft voice informed, not that (Y/n) really understood them.

(Y/n) wasn’t sure how long this had gone on, but they learned quickly not to bite the hand that feeds you, even if it was only aged blood on the menu.

Then slowly, they felt their brain working overtime. Apparently, there was a lot of information hiding under all of the bloodlust, and (Y/n) thought maybe, just maybe, there was a part of themself that detested those desires for human flesh and bone.

Then one night, it was like a fog had finally rolled out of (Y/n)’s mind and they struggled against their restraints for a whole other reason.

“How did I get here?” They yelled, breathing heavily though they had no real need to breathe at all anymore.

(Y/n) heard the soft patter of footsteps on the matted floor out in the hallway. They were honestly surprised they could hear such a slight noise to begin with.

The door slid open and Tamayo stood there, observing them nervously.

“Tamayo!” (Y/n) sighed in relief, “Where were you? All I remember is going out to look for you. How did I even—“

Tamayo was over in a flash, resting her forehead against (Y/n)’s with her hands cupping their cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed, “I didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t speak for yourself. I should have just tried to make your passing quick and comfortable, but I was selfish. I’m so sorry.”

(Y/n) winced, thinking back hurt, but with that last ‘sorry’, they were back in the moonlit woods, bleeding out with Tamayo above them and Yushirou dismantling the low level demon that had jumped them.

(Y/n) leaned their forehead up to meet Tamayo’s more firmly since their arms and legs were still tightly bound.

“You don’t need to apologize, but I forgive you.” They rasped, drawing more tears from the demon doctor.

“I couldn’t lose you. Not again.”

“What do you mean?” (Y/n) asked, puzzled.

“Do you believe in reincarnation, (Y/n)?”

“I think it’s a nice idea, to be reborn as something new.” (Y/n) shrugged as best as they could.

“When I first came to this village, something pulled me to this old house, and it wasn’t the smell of death and ruin. Something inside me told me this was where I needed to be,” Tamayo ran her thumbs along (Y/n)’s cheekbones, “it all led me to you and though you are unique from any other person I have met in all my years roaming this earth, I feel like I knew you life times ago.”

“I feel like I felt something similar.” (Y/n) whispered, “Something about your eyes just felt so familiar. Do you think...”

“Yes and no,” Tamayo smiled sadly, “I believe my husband had a hand in bringing you to me. You may have the same soul but you are still you’re own person with unique experiences. I like seeing little reminders of him in you, but I’m also growing very fond of who you are on your own.”

“Then, why didn’t you tell me before?” (Y/n) asked.

“Because I was afraid and I had every right to be. I almost lost you again.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Tamayo raised her head to brush a kiss over (Y/n)’s forehead, “Forgiven.”

“...Do you think you could maybe untie me now or...?” (Y/n) asked with a goofy smile on their face.

“Oh, yes, I should do that. So long as you promise to tell me if you ever feel like you’re losing yourself.”

“You have my word, my lady.” (Y/n) replied, leaving Tamayo a bit flustered.

“So, how is everyone?” (Y/n) asked with a stretch, sitting up from the bed.

“They all left for new opportunities in the southeast. I apologize, but Yushirou and I thought it best if they believed you had died. A bear mauling.” Tamayo’s nose crinkled very subtly, but (Y/n) easily saw her displeasure.

“Don’t worry, I understand.” (Y/n) said with a melancholic smile. They leaned over hesitantly and kissed the faint wrinkle of Tamayo’s nose away, making the doctor fall forward to bury her head in (Y/n)’s collarbone.

“I worry that you’re too understanding.” Tamayo commented shyly, earning a laugh from (Y/n) and after another moment of stillness, (Y/n) spoke up again.

“Where is Yushirou anyway?”

“I’m in the kitchen and I can hear ever word you say you blood sucker!” Yushirou yelled, making the doctor and the new demon jump at the volume. “You better get travel ready soon, because you gobbled up the last of our blood supply!”

“Sorry!” (Y/n) called awkwardly, snorting only after Yushirou replied with a handful of sounds that made no sense, but got his grumpiness across.

“Don’t feel too bad. It’s a process Yushirou has endured as well. He was no less needy and feral than you were when I changed him.” Tamayo said.

“Needy and feral,” (Y/n) groaned, “I wish you didn’t have to see me like that.” Tamayo chuckled lightly, raising her head from (Y/n)’s chest to look into their eyes making their breath hitch.

“That hasn’t harmed my image of you at all,” Tamayo kissed their cheek, “you are still the sweet,” a kiss to the other cheek, “selfless,” a kiss to the nose, “person you were before this.”

(Y/n) tentatively raised their hands to cup Tamayo’s cheeks, noting the pale blue hue of their previously clear nails as they did so.

“Forgive me if this comes off as needy, but could I kiss you?” They asked, barely above a whisper.

“Please.” Tamayo responded quickly, pulling in (Y/n) from the back of their neck.

Soft lips glided together, occasionally leaving their target to land sweet pecks elsewhere before diving back in. When they finally drew apart, resting their foreheads together, Tamayo smiled brightly. It was a feeling she hadn’t had since she was human all those years ago.

[isoldmysoultojonahclemence]

Clemence Father

JONAH’S ROUTE JUST CAME OUT ON IKEREV TW AND I’M ON PART 12 AND I RLLY WANNA CAUSE SERIOUS BODILY HARM TO JONAH AND LUKA’S FATHER RN. I TALKED ABOUT HIM BEFORE ON LUKA’S EVER AFTER POST HERE BUT NOW IMMA TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN BC BELIEVE IT OR NOT, HE’S AN EVEN BIGGER ASSHOLE IN JONAH’S ROUTE.

BUT ANYWAYS HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED.

SPOILERS FOR JONAH’S EVER AFTER UNDER THE CUT

(ps the screenshots all have that orange recording button bc i want to look at them without having to go through the entire route again. sorry if they’re kinda annoying!)

Aight, so Jonah proposed to MC (well, he kinda just announced that MC is his fiancee from now on but whatever), and he decided to bring her to the Clemence house for this party to meet the family. Luka was there as well, standing in a corner. MC kinda wanted to join him in the corner as well, but Jonah dragged her off to meet his relatives. But they all seemed to dislike MC because she’s not from a good background.

Then, this dude enters the scene:

[Translation:

A dignified-looking man walked over here, looking at me, who is standing by Jonah, in surprise.]

And then, when Jonah goes to introduce MC as his fiancee, his father cuts him off by saying that he never heard of Jonah having a fiancee before. Like, Jonah was in the middle of a super serious and sincere introduction and his father just interrupted like that in a super cold voice. I was already starting to dislike him at this point, but I didn’t wanna fight him just yet.

Also, here’s something that kinda surprised me:

[Translation:

(His looks seemed to be similar to Luka’s, but his disposition...

(It seemed to be 50 times scarier than Jonah when I first met him...)]

I found it kinda weird how Luka actually took after him in terms of looks more than Jonah did??? Like, my original headcanon was that Luka didn’t actually look very similar to his father, which could be part of why he was ignored so much, but I guess he was ignored even when he looks like his father. Ouch.

Also, whenever the Clemence father makes an appearance, the thing that MC talks about the most is how scary/stern his disposition is. He must be someone really ruthless to warrant that kind of description.

After that, his father goes on to guess that Jonah had made the decision to bring MC without consulting anyone in his family because he knew that his decision would be opposed. I suppose that Jonah’s father does know him quite well, but it actually unsettles me more, because he seems to have no regard for the effect he has on his sons. Like, Jonah literally had to fight to keep his head up under such pressure.

So Jonah goes on to explain why he chose not to tell anyone about it, but his father interrupts him AGAIN with this huge speech about how the Clemence bloodline cannot be mixed with a bloodline of unknown origins. They have kept his tradition for hundreds of years, and that every single heir has accepted this fact and chose to marry someone of high social standing. 

Jonah, naturally, was pretty angry, and told his father that he has gone too far. But guess what? This dude ignores him YET AGAIN and tries to convince MC to marry Levie instead of Jonah. Seriously. No wonder Jonah never listens to anyone else if this was the role model he had. I’m really starting to grit my teeth at this point.

Also, something concerning is how Jonah’s father knew that Levie is after MC, since that was classified information. Jonah confronts him about him, but he brushes it off by saying that he was the former Queen of Hearts and he has all the information sources he need. I wonder how powerful he was when he was Queen if he was still so influential in his retirement. And yeah, he totally strikes me as the sort of guy who would order Claudius to assassinate people...

But anyways, Jonah’s father tells him that he’ll pretend as if he heard nothing and walks off, even though Jonah tried to tell him that he wasn’t finished yet. What a guy.

Jonah leaves MC with Luka and goes after his father. Luka takes MC to his room and tells her something really sweet. He tells her that to trust “that guy” (Jonah) and to wait for him, which really showed his reliance on his older brother. Like, even though he rejects Jonah a lot and avoids him, deep down inside he still believes in Jonah. 

And after a few parts we get a flashback where Jonah recalls the conversation he had with his father after he goes after him, and this is where my blood starts boiling.

So the Clemence father reminds Jonah, in a pretty harsh way, that when he had rejected marriage alliances in the past, he has always said that he’ll find someone better. He then goes on to call MC “that kind of person” (as in, a person of low birth and social standing), and Jonah gets pretty mad at him for that:

[Translation:

Jonah: Even if you’re my father, I cannot allow you to call her “that kind of person”...!

Clemence Patriarch: Don’t change the topic!

Hearing his father’s roar of fury, Jonah wasn’t scared in the slightest, and instead glared fierily back at him.]

I find it kinda interesting how the game refers to Jonah and Luka’s father as “the Clemence Patriarch” instead of “Clemence Father” or something. That would probably make more sense, because the term “Patriarch” can refer to a grandfather, an uncle, a cousin, etc., not necessarily a father. But I guess this highlights how his identity as a patriarch is prioritized before his identity as a father.

And then this scene happens:

[Translation:

Clemence Patriarch: Whatever you say! There is nothing more to say, get out. 

Clemence Patriarch: In order to prevent the failure of the first, we still have a second.

Clemence Patriarch: I will disown you as my son, and make Luka the heir of the family, and then he’ll be the one to marry a high-born noble lady.]

DUDE WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

IT DOESN’T WORK LIKE THAT??????????? YOU CAN’T JUST DECIDE THAT YOUR SON IS A FAILURE WHEN HE DOES ONE (1) THING AGAINST YOUR WILL AND TOSS HIM OUT AND MAKE YOUR OTHER SON THE HEIR???????????????????

Honestly he makes Jonah and Luka sound so expendable, and that’s really not okay. They’re human beings, his own SONS, not an object to be thrown away when it served its use. Like, if I had any doubts about why Luka left his family before, this scene just explained everything. Who would want this guy as their parent????? 

And of course, as the best nii-sama in the world, Jonah caves.

[Translation:

Even though he wanted to follow through with his own ideals, he couldn’t let his important brother, Luka, be sacrificed.

Not only would Luka have to bear the burden as the heir, a burden that he has been bearing for many years, 

And he would marry some lady who he has never met before, this absolutely cannot happen!

Jonah: Just this one thing...please don’t do it.

Jonah could only bend to his father’s will.]

JONAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY POOR BBY LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ

He’s literally in an impossible position right now. If he wants to marry the love of his life, he would have a sacrifice his precious brother, and if he wants to protect his brother, he would have to sacrifice his fiancee. If he wants to keep them both safe, then the only real solution would be to leave the Clemence family.

Come on, Cybird. Y’all made him turn against the Red Army in his original route and now you’re making him turn against his family now??? When will the torture for Jonah and his stans ever end??????????

And here’s a few other lines from the Clemence Patriarch to disgust you:

[Translation:

Clemence Patriach: I am a generous and maganimous person.

Clemence Patriach: As long as the Clemence bloodline is protected, I don’t care if the heir is you or Luka.]

......I literally have nothing else to say.

Istg this dude is the worst parent in the Red Army, and the Red Army is already brimming with awful parenting skills. Lancelot’s father pretty much neglected him and Edgar’s uncle straight-up abused him, but you could still tell that they cared about their sons in their own little twisted ways. Lancelot’s father eqipped him with all the skills he would need to be King, and Claudius took all responsibility for the Bright family business in the end, protecting Edgar. And then we have the Clemence father who’s all like: i MaDE TwO kIDS foR a reASoN anD ThAt iS To HAVE ONE OF THEM REPLACE THE OTHER/USING ONE OF THEM TO THREATEN THE OTHER IF THEY MESS UP. ALSO NEITHER OF THEM MATTERS APPARENTLY BC THEY’RE BOTH JUST TOOLS FOR CARRYING ON THE BLOODLINE.

DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE.

I get that this is only part 12 and he’s probably going to have a redemption scene or at least some whitewashing at the end, but STILL. I really, really, really, really, really don’t like Jonah and Luka’s father.

[pluviophile-imagines]

3 for bakugo or todoroki

I decided to do Bakugo for this, & then I got this ask after I closed the prompts for this event so I decided to go ahead and do it because it’s actually one of only two Halloween-related ones and I was planning to make this Werewolf!Bakugo anyway lol. This is a fun little AU that just kinda swaps quirks for supernatural creatures, loosely based off of a bunch of campy halloween stuff like Halloweentown and Sabrina The Teenage Witch. Also, the werewolves have destined mates like those dumb Wattpad novels, because sometimes tropes are fun and cute. Also this is THREE TIMES AS LONG AS I MEANT TO MAKE ALL OF THESE but ive also gotten like five??? individual asks for it 😭😭😭so y’all better not let it flop.

3: kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s

Though you’ve known Bakugo pretty much your whole life, there’s a lot about werewolves that you don’t know.

If he were a different person, he probably wouldn’t be telling you at 5:47 on his 21st birthday that he’s apparently supposed to figure out who his soulmate is going to be tonight. If he weren’t so closed off, even to his best friend of over a decade and a half, then perhaps you wouldn’t be having this conversation, and perhaps it wouldn’t feel quite like pulling teeth.

“You have a soulmate?” is really all you can say, because most of your mental capacity is going towards keeping the sob in the back of your throat from being audible.

“Yeah,” he grunts. He’s not even looking at you, because he’s holding his phone in one hand and he’s scrolling through it, and though the two of you are sitting on opposite sides of the couch he has your feet in his lap, free arm wrapped all the way around them like he doesn’t want you to leave. “It’s… I dunno. Kinda cool, I guess.”

“All of you have soulmates?”

“Well, yeah. You witches don’t?”

You wrinkle your nose, trying your hardest to ignore the burning at the backs of your eyes. “No. We don’t.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see him purse his lips, as if troubled by the revelation. “Huh. How d’you know who’s the one, then?”

“We just. Figure it out? I guess. Is this why you’ve never dated anyone?”

“Yeah. Not really interested in anyone but my destined.”

He says it so easily, but you know him well enough to understand. He likes the idea of a soulmate; he’s looking forward to figuring out who they are tonight. Who would have guessed that he was a romantic?

It’s awful. It makes your chest burn. You’d only come to terms with your crush on the guy two months ago. Now he’s gonna be taken from you by some random person he’s never met?

No, you suppose, he’s always belonged to them. That’s how it works, right?

“D’you know who it’ll be?”

“Hah? No, dumbass, if I did that would defeat the purpose.” Bakugo pauses, glancing over at you with just his eyes, then darting them away just as fast. It’s probably just a trick of the light, but you could swear he blushes a little as he mumbles, “I know who I want it to be, though.”

Your eyes widen and you lean up, pulling your legs back (ignoring the way his hands tense before letting them go as if he wants to hold on) so that you can kneel on them right next to him. “Who?”

“Not happening.”

“Bakugo,” you whine, drawing out the last syllable of his name.

“I’m not telling you, brat.”

You lean forward, prodding at his cheek. “Is it Mina?”

“No.”

“Jirou?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Kirishima?”

Bakugo growls out your name, a warning, but you don’t pull away, getting even closer until you’re practically draped over him.

“Todoroki?”

He grabs you, whipping towards you as his arms fly up to wrap around your waist and yank you off him, tossing you back to your side of the couch as you shriek in laughter. He’d never hurt you, you know, and roughhousing like this is hardly new in your friendship; plus, well, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been hoping to feel his big, warm hands like this. Despite all his surprises tonight, he’s still all too predictable, and you’d seen this coming a mile away.

What you don’t see coming is him pausing, braced with one arm against the couch all too close to you, holding his torso over you with his head right above yours. And he stares, those crimson eyes unreadable with an expression you’ve never seen before, locked entirely on you.

You can feel his chest rising and falling steadily against yours, and your own eyes are drawn to where his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. You’re frozen, unable to move though you’d hardly want to anyway, and it hits you like a brick what he’s really been saying the whole night.

You open your mouth to speak, but then the hazy tension is shattered by the shrill sound of his phone.

Bakugo lunges away, pulls back with inhuman werewolf speed, grabbing his phone as he leaps to his feet. “‘S my mom, sundown’s soon, I have to go.”

“Wait, Bakugo—”

“See ya tomorrow, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, already half out the door.

“Katsuki,” you try, desperate, and it makes him freeze.

The door is open, his knuckles are pale with how tight he’s gripping the knob, but as much as you’ve tried it’s not enough. He’s gone without another word.

You don’t get to sleep that night.

It’s dumb; he’ll lecture you in the morning as he tells you all about his perfect amazing werewolf destined—that was what he’d called it, right? You prefer soulmate. Mate is a wolf thing anyway—who he’s spending all night with, running around in the forest howling at the moon and making out or whatever.

You stay out in the den, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped around you, ice cream in your lap, and an old movie playing that you’re not really listening to because you’ve been too wrapped up in your own head.

For an instant, you’d been so sure. A mere moment of absolute certainty that he was just as in love with you as you are him, that your oblivious pining for years was actually reciprocated. In the hours since he’d pinned you to the couch, you’d convinced yourself otherwise.

Imagine your surprise when there’s a frantic knocking at your door.

It startles you, making you jump about ten feet up in the air, and you freeze on the couch with wide eyes and a gaping mouth staring directly at the solid wood that seems to be shaking in its hinges. You’re halfway to casting a protection charm when a familiar gruff voice shouts your name from outside.

“I know you’re awake, I can hear you in there! Open the damn door!”

You glance at the time to find that it’s just under fifteen minutes to midnight. Awfully soon for him to be done, but you rise from your spot on the couch with the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders and move to let Bakugo in.

“Coming,” you say, not bothering to be loud because you know he can hear even the shifting of your clothes beneath the blanket.

He looks downright feral when you open the door, panting slightly, hair mussed up, eyes wild. But when he sees you, they light up, happy and excited like a damn puppy.

“Are you drunk?”

“Uh… kinda?”

“...Magical bullshit?”

He nods, a rough toss of his head to affirm. “Ancient rituals. Tipsy’s more accurate, if anything. Figured out who my destined is.”

“And you came to me? Shouldn’t you be with your soulmate, then?”

Bakugo blinks, clearly stunned, barking out a burst of laughter before shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ dumbass.”

You go to respond, more than a little insulted because he’s been acting so fucking weird all day and he has the nerve to say you’re being dumb, but any retort is flung from your mind as he steps forward and puts his hands on your arms.

Leaning in until your noses are practically touching, he speaks. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“H—huh?” you stutter out, heart stopping and mind reeling with his words.

“I wanted it to be you. And it’s you.” His hands slide down your arms to meet yours. “You’re my destined.”

There’s so much more to say, so much to ask him, everything ranging from but I’m a witch, how is that possible to so we could have been fucking dating this whole time but he doesn’t let you speak, clearly too overjoyed and inebriated, and you’re not entirely opposed when he yanks you in with exactly the level of roughness you’d imagine from him and kisses you.

And finally, finally, after a decade and a half of wanting to (longer than you even knew what kissing was), you can melt into him.

You believe him then, not that you particularly doubted. It’s like his lips are the missing piece to a puzzle, one you’ve been looking for your whole life. He holds you up with ease, werewolf strength coming in handy, as one hand laces with your own and the other darts to the small of your back. He’d be holding you closer, but you’re literally as close as you could be, body curving against him as his taller form hunches over you.

He kisses you far more sweetly than you’d have expected; no teeth or tongue but still all passion, heavy palm and fingers splayed across your back as the other hand pulls you and grounds you. It’s heated and it makes you forget that you’re both standing in the middle of the open front door at midnight.

You’re both reluctant to break away, you can tell because you both linger a little, bodies frozen as the kiss is followed by one, two, three more just as feverish but decreasing in length. Then the two of you pull away for real (not by much, no, he’s holding you far too intensely for you to get far) and you stumble backwards pulling him by his shirt into your home. He gets the hint, following and shutting the door behind you but not letting either of you make it very far beyond.

“All right,” you say finally, breathless both from the kiss and from giddy laughter bubbling up within you, “all right, you’re my soulmate.”

Bakugo kisses you again.

[melaninpozp]

Human Doll: Vampire! Kim Hongjoong(김홍중)Fem! Human! Reader!

warnings: smut, smut, smut, smut,biting, pussy rubbing/slapping, finger sucking, degrading, breath play, overall vamp! hongjoong just treating you as his little human doll.

+pain play????

+ weird occurrences.

As you woke up in your new apartment you begin to hear your step mom downstairs zipping up some type of bag. Y/n had forgotten that her step mom was going away to Miami for a week with some of her close friends. You didn’t have a issue with it, why would you? You were happy that your step mom was having a break from work and spending her time with you for a week and now she’s going on a trip with her friends in Miami. You were home by yourself for a whole week? How bad could it be.

“Y/n! Could you please come down and zip this up for me, sweetie?” You step mom yells up to you.

“Yep! Here I come!”Y/n says before moving the covers off of her legs and sliding her socks/ house shoes on and beginning to head downstairs to her help her step mom.

After giving your step mom a huge good morning hug, You bend down and begin zipping up the suitcase that was stuffed with clothes and most importantly, shoes . You bite down on your lip and finally zip up the bag. Letting out a sigh and standing up.

“Bye hunny, Be safe and lock all the doors. Keep your phone near you” Your step mom says before grabbing her bags, giving you a hug and beginning to put her things into the car, driving off and going on her fun trip to Miami.

“Guess I’ll take my shower..”Y/n sighs to herself and begins locking up the doors in the house, closing most of the windows on the house and heading upstairs to take her soothing shower.

•••

As you step out the shower, You begin to dry off and rub lotion against your soft skin, Sliding your undergarments on.

After getting out the bathroom, you begin to head to your room and getting dressed into some comfortable clothes. While you’re getting dressed, you feel this type of presence settle in your room. A very uncomfortable presence. Maybe you liked it, who knew?

While putting your dirty clothes in a basket, You begin to hear a women yelling across the street that someone was chasing her.

What the hell.

“What the hell is going on?”Y/n whispers to herself and walks over to her room curtains, opening them and seeing the women almost trip trying to run away from something that looked like a man dressed in a clown costume.

The lady that was still being chased, was laughing and still yelling too the man in a clown costume to stop. Maybe this was a prank?

As the person dressed in a clown costume runs to the lady, They pick her up and she begins laughing.

“You can’t run away from me baby.”The man in the costume says, laughing and throwing the lady over his shoulder, walking back to where she was running from in the first place

So your assumption was right, It was a prank. Just a boyfriend and girlfriend doing a…roleplay?

•••

As time went on, You decided to go on a night walk, It was about 9:26 PM at night, As you slid your gym shoes on , you wanted to wear long pants and just a hoodie. It was really cold out it + It was october, a very cold month that celebrated a fun holiday.( If some of y’all don’t celebrate halloween, that’s totally fine.)

While walking out the door, you grab a extra key, Putting it in your pocket and walking out the door, beginning your walk.

A few minutes into the walk, Your music begins to get distorted while stopping in front of a huge black house that has a sign on the front lawn saying:” Keep out, or else.”

You raise an eyebrow and begin walking past the house until you hear something in the bushes tussle around.

Suddenly a small cat jumps out and walls the opposite way of you. You let out a sigh of relief before you start your walk again.

“Is there something you’re looking for?”A voice abruptly says, It was deep but yet seductive.

You take your earbud out and turn around, seeing a man standing a few feet away from you. Damn he looked good.

“Oh!” Y/n lets out a laugh.” No sir, I’m sorry. I was just looking. I didn’t mean to stare so hard..”Y/n says softly, looking at the man.

“You didn’t stare too hard, hun. What’s your name?” The man says, stepping closer and closer to you as the minute passes by.

“I’m Y/n. What’s yours?”Y/n says softly and gives the man a soft but gentle smile.

As you stared at the mans features, You began to think he didn’t look real. He didn’t look like a human. He had 2 holes on the side of his neck. His voice was so seductive that It could make you melt instantly. Who was this man?

“l’m Hongjoong.”The man says and takes your hand, gently kissing it and smiling. You begin to think of how sweet he was before he licks his teeth and begins digging his fang into your hand. What the hell?

“Ow! What the fuck..”Y/n says and pushes the man off of her , gasping and looking at her hand that now has blood dripping down the side of it.

“Aw ,Y/n, You should know better than to talk to strangers..”Hongjoong says and his eyes begin turning darker, his fangs sticking out and giving you this deathly glare.

“I knew you were fucking off..”Y/n says before running as fast as she can, not looking back. Holding the hand that just got bit.

“Aww, Y/n. Don’t run away. You’re the only fucking human alive on this block. Everyone else is either a vampire, a ghost, even a werewolf..But you..You’re gonna be my little human doll for now..”His voice rings in your ear, As you keep running and running, You look back and see a black bat chasing you at a fast rate.

As you arrive to your house, You grab out your key and run into the house, crying out more as the bat you just saw turns back into hongjoong, him trying to break in.

“Stay the hell away from me!” Y/n cries out, pushing her back against the door that Hongjoong is trying to break down.

“Aww little doll. You’re the only human in this fucking neighborhood and you think I’m gonna let you run away from me? It doesn’t work like that, sweetheart.”Hongjoong says in his low voice, his teeth sharpening.” Oh come on , doll. Don’t be like that. That little pussy is gonna be mine soon, anyways..”He says. Finally having enough and subconsciously busting open the front door and knocking you to the ground, almost hitting your head.

“Get the hell out, You’re crazy!” Y/n yells at the vampire, whimpering and holding her injured hand.

“Baby don’t be like that..”Hongjoong says before closing the door behind him and now closing all the curtains in the house.

“Please don’t hurt me…I’ll do anything..”Y/n says and slowly stands up, wiping her tears and Hongjoong suddenly walks toward her and pulls her by the neck.

“You’ll do anything hm? Say you want me.”Hongjoong says and looks down at you.

“I want you..”Y/n says quietly, her panties getting more damp as the minute goes on.

“Say it louder.” He says.” Before I spit in your mouth, say it louder.” He finishes, looking down into your eyes.

“Yes sir, Yes I want you!”Y/n cries out, biting her lip at the man that stood in front of her.

“You’re gonna be my little fuck doll, Forget that human shit, You’re my little vampire slut, since you want to stop in front of my house and step on my lawn like you fucking own the place you go ahead, Just know I’ll always be watching and I’ll always be pounding that little ass whenever I get the chance to If you step on my lawn again.” He says.” Do you understand me, Y/n?”He finishes.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”Y/n lets out a moan, feeling her panties dampen more and more at the words Hongjoong uses.

“Good whore, Now get on the couch and spread those legs, filthy bitch.”He says and shoves you to the couch, Y/n not really having a choice since she really wanted this. She laid straight on her back, opening her legs and sliding her panties off.

He walks over to you and grabs your jaw.” Did I ask you to slide those panties off?”He says.

“N-no sir, I’ll slide them back o-“ You begin to say, receiving a large slap against your pussy, making you gasp at the feeling.

“Mm..”You let out.

“I bet you liked that, dirty cum bucket..”Hongjoong and unbuckled his belt, looking down at you sexily and ripping your top off.

“I loved it, sir. Please u-use me..”Y/n says, opening her legs wider, looking up at that hot man.

“Oh you sound so needy..”Hongjoong says before sliding his fingers into your mouth and making you suck on them, closing your eyes and taking his fingers down your throat. “You must be really skilled huh, whore?”He says.

“Mhmhm..”Y/n mumbles on his fingers, getting them all wet.

“Atta girl..”He says and pulls his fingers out, grabbing you by the neck and sliding his tongue into your louth, beginning to make out with you and spank your ass while you both stand to your feet.

“Whore..”He whispers in between the kiss, shoving you down on the couch and puts you in the doggy position.

“You want me to fuck you?”He says and rubs the tip of his cock against your lips.

“Yes baby, please please..”Y/n says before letting out a moan and she gasps feeling him slide inside of her.

Fuck he was big.

“You’re gonna take this dick like a good little vampire bitch for me, got that?”He says and gives you some time to adjust before thrusting in and out of your hole.

“Yes, sir. Mmm!!”Y/n moans out, playing with her tits while the other hand is wrapped up with a bandage, still pulsating.

“Fuck it feels so good daddy..”Y/n moans out, feeling Hongjoong grab her hips and beginning to pound in and out of her like rent is due.

“That’s a good whore.”He says before looking at your wrapped up hand.” You like the pain, huh slut? You like the pain that daddy gave you?”He says and pounds into your deeper and faster.

“Yes baby! Fuck yeah..”Y/n moans out.

“You must be a desperate whore hm? Letting a man you just met, fuck your cunt..Fucking use you like this?”He says while pounding into you harder.

“Yes daddy, You’re so hot..”Y/n says, feeling herself build up some type of climax.

“Awe, you think daddy’s hot? Hm? Well daddy thought you were so sexy once he first saw you..”Hongjoong says and slaps your ass, tossing his head back.

“Mmm! Thank you sir. May I cum please?”Y/n manages to say the way Hongjoong is pounding into your little pussy.

“Since you asked so nice, Yes baby. Release for daddy. Let’s cum together.”He says before you cum down on his cock, Hongjoong cumming right after you.

“Fuuck.”Hongjoong says and slowly pulls out of you, spreading your ass and beginning to lick up your cum.

“You’re gonna stay in this position and take my tongue like a good whore, got that?”He says and clenches his jaw.

“Yes daddy, yes.”You say.

“Atta girl, Now relax while you take my tongue..”He says and smirks devilishly before sliding his tongue into your pussy.