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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months

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the murder at evergreen university

a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡

summary: just a slutty murder mystery

warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive

word count: 11.100

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist

Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home.

Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep.

“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated.

“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?”

Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”

“Um, on a Saturday it is.”

Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal.

“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”

“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.”

“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”

“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”

Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.”

“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”

“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully.

“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”

“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage.

Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”

“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water.

“Yeah.”

“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”

Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise.

“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.

“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”

“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”

Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely.

In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs.

“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”

“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”

“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought.

Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.

“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.

“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room.

Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?”

Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”

After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.

“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”

Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience.

“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.

“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.”

“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”

“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame.

“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”

“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.

Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”

Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat.

Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.”

“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”

“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”

“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”

Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.

“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer.

“What do you mean?”

Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”

“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly.

“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”

“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story.

“None of us have.”

“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”

“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”

“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”

“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”

Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?”

“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”

“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”

“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”

As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.

Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”

“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.

Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.

“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”

He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration.

“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”

“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips.

Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.

You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.

“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”

“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now.

“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?”

“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.

Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.

“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”

“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”

“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”

“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”

“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter.

“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both.

“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly.

“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”

Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.

“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.”

Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”

“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”

“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!”

Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”

Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”

“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”

“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was.

“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”

“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged.

Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”

“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back.

“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”

Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”

“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead.

“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”

Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed.

“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”

“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”

“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”

“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”

“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”

Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”

“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.

“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.”

Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.

“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.

“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”

“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.

“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.

“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips.

Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.”

Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again.

“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.”

His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog.

“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes.

A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed.

“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”

“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating.

“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”

Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”

Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed.

“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again.

Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again.

Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”

“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend.

“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form.

“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile.

Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body.

“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.

“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night.

“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”

“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?”

“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?”

He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core.

“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside.

Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation.

“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room.

You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”

“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?”

“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”

Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”

“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”

Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze.

“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.

Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?”

“Yeah.”

Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”

“I am.”

Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?”

“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.”

“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?”

“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.”

“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?”

“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out.

“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”

“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.

“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”

“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents.

Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”

“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”

“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door.

Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?”

“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated.

Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”

Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.”

It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about.

The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.

The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class.

“Why don’t you go ask him?”

“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”

Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.”

Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”

“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.

Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”

From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake.

“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”

“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely.

“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”

“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”

“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall.

“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with.

Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”

“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”

“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently.

Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”

“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.

“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”

“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”

“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”

“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”

Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”

“So…” he echoed.

“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”

“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, “it was just worth a try asking you.”

Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.”

“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin.

“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?”

“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”

“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”

“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.”

“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”

“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”

Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”

“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”

“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.

Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you know?” you asked wearily.

“Know what?”

“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”

Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.”

“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”

“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”

“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”

“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”

“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”

“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily.

“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”

Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”

“What?” you blinked.

“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”

“What? Why?”

Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”

Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”

“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”

Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”

You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights.

You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such.

“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.”

Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!”

The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips.

“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind.

“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.”

“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.”

Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”

…

“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom, caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form.

The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask.

Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”

“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”

Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back.

“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.

“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”

“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”

Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”

Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.

Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you.

“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”

Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have.

Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”

“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.

“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”

“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs.

Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”

“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”

Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”

“Yes.”

“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”

“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.

“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”

Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”

“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.

“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”

Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.

Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!” water splashing onto both of their feet.

“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side.

“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold.

“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”

“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more.

“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”

“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”

Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”

Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”

The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”

The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?”

“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”

“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”

Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”

Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”

…

“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”

…

The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.

“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”

Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”

Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”

“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”

“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully.

In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!”

“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.”

“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”

After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.”

“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?”

Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”

“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.

“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.”

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elaemae · 2 months

Text

The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.

[Twst x ObeyMe!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 7

Again, I thank y'all for the reblogs, likes and comments guys, it really helps me :)

CW: Blue pronouns or address for MC every time they get mistaken for a guy. Also, I'm a potty mouth so MC is too.

Inhale..

Exhale....

Inhale......

Exhale.......

Inhale.........

Ex-fucking-hale.......

You're about to have a stroke right now.

You should've just went back to the goddamn infirmary instead of checking in on these obnoxious, bitch-less, probably father-less, motherfuckers.

It's just cleaning windows!! How the hell can you mess up like this?! Why the fuck did the cafeteria chandelier get involved??

GODDAMNIT!! WHY IS YUU INVOLVED AS WELL?! AHHHH—!

*One eternity of screaming like a banshee later*

After sending those damn kids and cat away to get some sort of magical stone in some godforsaken mine, you wrangled with the headmaster for at least two hours to prevent him from writing up the expulsion papers of Yuu and that Blue-haired kid who was mostly innocent about the ordeal.

(Meanwhile, encouraging him to kick that Ace kid and the damn cat off the school. You ain't about to let audacity run free rn, mostly because you feel yourself start genuinely tweaking as you almost got possessed by the urge to sucker punch someone's soul out of their body.)

[Satan perked up, there it was again.

That distinctive spark of wrath that he can feel through your pact with him is both concerning and comforting.

On one hand, the anger he feels means that you're alive. And seeing that what he's feeling through the pact is mostly annoyance, then that must mean that nothing marginally bad or traumatizing had happened to you yet.

You're actually more pissed off in a 'someone-had-the-audacity-to-eat-my-snacks' kind of way more than anything else, meaning that you're safe for now.

But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long that temporary safety will last.

There's also the fact this is the fourth time he'd felt that spark of 'I-wanna-punt-someone-into-the-fuckin-sun' kind of anger from you, which is worrying because it hasn't even been 48 hours since you were kidnapped by some mf.

He shook his head, calling upon a subordinate (read: Devoted fan) to collect more and more books to learn what type of teleportation and sleeping magic was used in your kidnapping.

With the massive search party spanning all three realms that they'd called upon, they will find you sooner or later.

And once they do...

Well... You'll need to get used to being with someone at all hours of the day.]

*Passive-aggresively reminding Crowley that he can't kick out an innocent kid for something they didn't directly do as they had no way of stopping the events that transpired.*

["You don't want the word to get out that you let an innocent teen roam around in a foreign world with absolutely nothing to their name and nobody to protect them, right?"

"That is true, but I still can't just let this go unpunis–"

"Especially when it's the school's faulty equipment that took them so far away from all of their loved ones and belongings, right?"]

Needless to say, Yuu ended up being "fired" in the end, quite an unfortunate result because they will need to freeload off of you until the end of your stay in this world. (Poor them, they got fired before they knew that they had a job in the first place.)

Oh well, it's better than being kicked out from practically their only way back home right now...

Hays... That cruel crow..

Anygays, it's time to snoop around and hopefully make some connections to the residents of this school.

This is a well-known college, right? So there should be influential people here somewhere...

Hehe.. It's time you bring out your gaslight, gatekeep, gold-digging skills so that you can girlboss your way into stability inside this foreign world.

• • • • • •

Suddenly, more than a dozen individuals felt a strong shiver run up their spines.

Haha... Well that's ominous!

• • • • • •

Ortho deadpanned at his brother.

It seems that almost burning down their dorm room last night isn't enough to deter him from making his [Mr. L/n x reader] fanfiction complete with mandatory fan art for every single chapter.

Haaa....

But at least his brother isn't 'fanboying' about another fictional character again...

Hm... Now that he thinks about it..

Maybe his brother will be more inclined to make friends if it's Mr. L/n!

And thus begins Ortho's journey of being an unknowing wingman as he tries to get his introverted brother to make friends.

• • • • • •

You narrowed your eyes as you looked at the small gift on top of your temporary bed in the infirmary.

Dats suspicious....

Dats weird......

You turn your necklace into a staff and start poking the box, trying to see if it'll suddenly turn into a horrific eldritch monster and jump you. (Won't be the first time that happened.)

• • • • •

"It is done, ××× ×× ××××××" (This is too easy to guess😑)

• • • • •

Diavolo sighed for the tenth time that hour, lamenting how trying to focus on his paperwork is a really hard task when MC gets thrown into the situation.

'Maybe a small break will help clear my head?'

He might as well just go out for a walk in the garden to get some fresh... air...

Oh? what is this?

His eyes scanned the dark envelope he'd seen wedged under the 'To burn' stack of paperwork in his desk.

This envelope wasn't here yesterday...

After confirming that the piece of paper wasn't cursed or charmed, he opened it with apprehension.

...!

This..!

• • • • •

Barbatos appeared in the office, tense as he'd heard his lord call out his name with haste.

Reading the letter shoved in front of his face by the serious Diavolo, Barbatos made a mental note to get the dungeon chambers ready.

They've got themselves a lead.

← Pr.6 | Chapter List | Chp. 1.1 →

Just tell me if y'all wanna get added in the permanent taglist, even if I already tagged y'all here.

That's just so I'll know if you wanna get tagged in all the upcoming chapters of this fanfic.

@caprinaesprout

@iameliseposts

@leviathans-tail-scales

@twst-om-lover

@a-traveling-void-human

Reblog or I'll take your ankles😈 (Pls like and reblog, it really gives me motivation🥺)

Also, the next chap is the start of Arc 1: Satan but short.

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mcflymemes · 8 months

Text

PROMPTS FROM MY OLD FANFICTIONS LOL * assorted lines from the dumb fics i used to write, adjust as necessary

i forgot you don't like us calling you that.

we have some other issues to deal with.

what's so funny?

i can handle it.

the only thing standing between you and the barrel of a gun is me, and it's going to stay like that. i'm not moving.

go on a date, for christ's sake! meet a guy! go hang out with friends! be social for once in your life!

i'm so freaking proud of you!

yes, i watched a grown man cry. i think we've established that.

what did you say your last name was?

this game is so not fair.

you saw the blood.

you believe she actually loves you?

it was never about love.

we need to talk.

ding ding ding! we have a winner!

you know, you shouldn't be drinking this early.

i did not come all this way to see you killed like he was.

that was never part of our agreement.

bullshit. don't lie to me.

it's all right. don't panic. just keep breathing.

let's try for a little self-control.

convincing enough for you?

chivalry is dead, [name].

the last thing i want to do is get on a plane.

i never really got to say goodbye to you.

you went to mcdonalds? and you didn't get me anything?

do you wanna just watch a movie?

why would anyone be upset with you?

[name], i want you to leave.

things will work out.

i heard about that. i'm sorry.

i'm not here to kill you.

maybe i should take that from you.

go. i'm asking you. you need a day off.

what planet are we on?

so that's it, then? you're not leaving?

there's nothing out there for me anymore.

i'm not done with this.

we can't just give up!

i don't want to interrupt them.

don't you think that maybe you're here for a reason?

did you have breakfast already? i'm starving.

it could be possible.

i miss them. i miss them so much.

it wasn't your fault.

are you scared of him?

we're out of toilet paper in the bathroom.

you're always right.

i didn't make him cry.

we have a situation here!

i just hope my ravioli's good.

you don't have anything to worry about, really.

yeah. let's get this done.

it's a nightmare, i tell you.

well... now's your chance to catch up.

it looks like... somehow... we're being held hostage.

there's someone behind this door.

you don't have to leave just yet.

whatever you did, it worked.

i didn't mean to shoot at you.

you've been here since nine in the morning!

where are we? and who are you?

don't you realize it's past midnight?

you should be sleeping.

i thought it was a good plan.

turn your car around now.

look, [name], be careful.

you're in my basement.

[name]! it's been too long!

i quite enjoyed it.

a little culture never hurt anyone.

i think that's a wonderful idea.

thank you for the invitation. i might have to take you up on that.

remind me why we don't eat here more often?

i can't ask you to do this.

i won't let you down, [name].

my plan is working.

you do what you feel is right.

you don't have to go all yoda on me. i get it.

what kind of hero does that?

now you know why i haven't left this house.

same time next week?

it's been a while for me, too.

let me help you. we'll take it slow.

you are making a terrible mistake.

for the last time, you are not my father.

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luveline · 2 years

Note

can i pls request a hurt/comfort eddie drabble with hugs and reassurance? maybe someone did something that’s been on their mind and upsetting them. thank you!

i love comforting eddie so much and after make up i cant help remebering how good josephs hugs look so we know eddie gives the best ones ever <3

Eddie climbs through your open bedroom window and your heart rockets, startled at his sudden intrusion.

"You really need to start closing it if you're gonna react this bad every time," he says, dropping his beat up jansport by the sill and kicking off his shoes. "Move over."

His appearance makes you feel much less miserable than you had, though it still lingers as you push your back to the wall. You and Eddie don't fit comfortably on your twin bed but that's never stopped him from trying, crushing in by your side, his arm pressed to yours.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says finally, lolling his head toward you.

"Hey, Eddie."

"What were you doing? Sleeping?" he asks.

You nod though it's not true, turning on your side to steal back a fraction of space. Eddie has this way of drawing the truth from you and you're not sure you wanna talk about it tonight.

"You look sad. You wanna hug?" he asks.

And that's your plan for space gone. It would be more suspicious to say you don't, because you always want a hug from Eddie. He gives the most amazing hugs, all strong armed and caring, his hands rubbing over the plane of your back slowly like he has nowhere else he'd rather be. His hugs are so good that you could believe it; that he loves them just as much as you do.

You nod and he sits up, arms open and reaching for you. You sit up the same, enough to wrap your arms around his ribs and back.

"You weren't really sleeping," he says.

"No."

"Mm," he hums, working his face into the side of yours, his lips skipping over the shell of your ear. "What's wrong, huh? Tell me."

"Nothing serious," you confess slowly.

"But it is something?" And there, his hand rubbing over your back, working away the tense ache. His rings are missing. Usually you can feel their weight, their ridges as they push over your spine.

"Not really, Eddie."

He groans quietly, almost good-humoured. Very much, I don't believe you. He's so nice and he smells beautiful, soft and warm, his arms strong as a cage but never that cruel, and his asking, all of it makes you want to cry.

"Not really. I'm feeling a small chance that it's something. I mean, you don't have to tell me. But I wanna know, so…"

You're limp to his solid, mild to his fierce. He pats your back a few good times and then holds you at arm's length.

"Do you have, like, a stomach ache?"

"No, I'm alright. Just…"

"Artist block?" he asks.

Not quite. You shake your head and then change your mind, deciding that artist's block sounds less pathetic than, 'someone saw my sketchbook and rolled their eyes and I've been sad for two days'. And not normal sad. Can't eat, don't want to move, sad.

"Yeah," you agree, smiling weakly. "Yeah."

"I noticed…" Eddie says, standing from the bed to retrieve his backpack before returning so fast he half sits on you. "That you haven't been doing your portraits lately." He unzips his bag and pulls out a smaller bag, made from a white paper with blue writing over the sides. "And I remembered how your nice inks all ran out. So, I went out to Indianapolis," his tone shifts, like he's listing something totally boring, "all the way down to that place behind Freeman's Ice Cream with the glass storefront, and the lady was totally pissed with me for getting all this Hawkins dirt," he grins deviously, "on their nice rug."

He passes you the bag. "Anyway. That's for you, sweetheart."

"Eddie…"

"Don't sound too mushy yet. I don't know if they're the right ones."

His shift from cocky to nervous is endearing.

You shake the bag's contents into your lap. An assortment of things fall out. A big inky pen for portraits, a refill. Two pencils with blue wood. An eraser. Four markers, four colours.

You slide your finger over the barrel of a marker. It's a dark red.

"I know you don't use much colour," he starts. "I thought it might help. Well, I asked one of the assistants. About, like, art block. And they said to try something new.

I liked the colours. I don't know if they're useful. But. I don't know. They suit you."

A dark red, blue, green. A buttery yellow orange.

"Eddie, you didn't have to."

"I kind of did. If you think about it."

You get what he means. The same way you get him a pack of cherry twizzlers everytime you see them, or always have a hair tie on your wrist.

You cover your face with your hands, wanting to hide how embarrassed you feel. How overcome with affection for him.

He yanks your wrists. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Don't cry. Hey." He scowls at your watery eyes. "Hey, don't. What's wrong? It's only a couple of pens."

"You don't think I'm awful?" you ask quietly. "At drawing?"

"No. Of course I don't. I love your art." His scowl softens. "Did someone say something? I can get violent."

"It's stupid," you say.

He's quiet. You take the red marker in your hand, turning it over and over and over. He's kept a hold of one of your wrist, his thumb pushing into your pulse then upward, into the meat of your palm.

"The piece you did for my last campaign? You know how fucking amazing that shit was? All in black and white but everyone could tell how emotional it was. You made it something so dimensional and gory and crazy without any colour at all." He sews your fingers together. You meet his eyes. Brown, edged in a burst of dark, long lashes. "If you can do that shit in graphite I'm genuinely scared of the stuff you could make with colour. And when I say scared I mean I'm salivating. Like a dog."

You scrunch up your nose and squeeze his fingers. He squeezes back.

"Not that I'm expecting a thank you, but I am."

"Yeah?" you ask, sniffing, grinning wide enough to hurt your cheeks.

"Yep. It involves your hands." Your eyes jump to his and his laugh is golden. "A hug, sweetheart. Why, what were you thinking?"

"Shut up, jerk." You crawl over the art supplies, paper crinkling under your knees as you hug him tenaciously.

He rubs your back and says, "That's better."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson imagine

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ghouljams · 7 months

Note

can you please take us back to the beginning? from where it all started?

what did ghost do that made price decide ‘yep, imma ship you out with the horses’ and how did price mention goose before ghost met her.

I have been dying to write some Price and Ghost fic. I wanna do some fae au stuff for them too, but for now we focus on the cowboys. So here it is. Ghost tells Price he'd follow him into hell, and Price asks if he'd follow him to safety too.

"You're not renewing your contract," Ghost has never been keen on beating around the bush. Price is used to that, used to the sharp look in his lieutenant's eye that asks 'what are you keeping off the record and should I do the same?' There have been enough times that they've had to scramble in the dark without the cushion of military contracts, everything less than official in order to achieve the impossible, that he should have expected the look.

"I'm retiring," Price tells him, tugs open the corner drawer of his desk to fish for a cigar. The scrape of wood echoes through his office. Simon fidgets, a short flick of his nails against the pads of his fingers that is quickly stopped by Ghost's clenching fists.

"Retiring," Ghost repeats, feels the word out like he's never heard it before, "didn't know men like us retired." Price hums, clicking his lighter with a growing frustration, fucking military grade bullshit. Ghost flicks his lighter on, and holds it out for his captain. Price takes a moment with his cigar, letting the flame burn just a little long before Ghost flips the lid shut.

"When's the last time you slept?" He asks instead of rising to the obvious, if self deprecating, bait.

"Last night." The answer comes just a second too quick. Practiced. It's a standard question from the psych eval Price knows good and god damn well Ghost's been lying on for years. The kind of scars he's got...

"Really?" Price isn't asking, he lowers his cigar and exhales heavily, feels some of the tension melt off his shoulders, "I didn't." Ghost doesn't blink.

"Don't see how, they just keep makin' the barrack beds more comfortable." He jokes, the deadpan tone a distraction from his underlying agreement. Price would bet Ghost hasn't had a decent night's sleep in years. It won't be any better with him gone.

"Your contract is up about this time isn't it?" Price slides a folder to the side, flips up the edge of Ghost's papers. Same date stamped at the top as his own. It's been like that as long as he can remember. There's never been any question of what was going to happen on that date, except this time around. "What're your plans for that?"

"Renew." Ghost says without an ounce of hesitation.

"Without me?"

Ghost freezes. Price can almost see the gears turning in his head. A new captain, one he can't trust, one who doesn't know who he is or how he works. A new captain that might bring in new people, who might decide he's too much work and have him transferred out of counter terrorism. Who might not let his psych slip pass, who might discharge him for any number of things Price has let go over the years.

Ghost is a good soldier because he trusts him. Someone new? After what happened chasing down Hassan and Makarov, it's anyone's bet how he'll play. Those betrayals still hangs fresh over all of their heads.

"You like animals lieutenant?"

"Animals, sir?" Ghost's head tips forward ever so slightly, the smallest breech in his rigid posture betraying his confusion.

"My wife's family owns a ranch stateside. Would save me the trouble of lookin' for an extra hand if you wanted to change careers." Price leans back in his chair, "Good place to spend your retirement if you like animals."

"When'd you get married?" It's not the most elegant topic change, but it's also not a "no."

"Soon as I saw how shit the barracks were," It's the truth, but it sounds close enough to a joke that anyone else might think it was, "Got a kid too, Goose, you'd like 'er." Ghost grunts, breezing past that one, though Price knows he's carefully filing the information away. Mind like a bear trap that one. There's nothing Price has ever known Ghost to forget.

The two men regard each other across Price's desk. There's a level of trust between them that's carried them to this point, past every roadblock. It's not something that can be built up over night, nor is it one the affords requests lightly. Price has asked a lot of Ghost over the years, both of them understanding that the only way out was through. Now they stand at an impasse. One of them leaving, the other hoping they'll stay.

Ghost doesn't know what he'll be if Price leaves. He doesn't know what he is when he isn't this.

"Simon," Price appeals, leaning forward, "Let me do this for you. Let me get you out before this job kills you. The ranch is nice, it's quiet, you'll have your own place, work. You can sleep there."

Ghost is silent for a long moment, his eyes dark, clouded, as they stare Price down. It's anyone's guess what he's thinking. The conversations they've had- Price knows as well --no better-- than anyone that Ghost lives his life waiting for this work to kill him. He can't bury him again. Can't mourn Simon a second time when he knows he could have saved him. Price couldn't be there last time, but now? Today? He can try.

"I'm not babysitting," Ghost says finally. Price smiles, feels the tight anxiety in his chest loosen a little.

"Who? Goose?" He chuckles, shakes his head, "Doubt you'll get the chance to meet 'er, but I'll make sure she knows not to bother you."

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

Title: cruel summer | chapter 6

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Pairing: No outbreak!Joel Miller/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Join a tag list

Summary: Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s Note: This is the end! Thank you all so much for enjoying this little fic that I have loved writing. Requests are open if you have anything you wanna see in the future 🥰

Additional Tags/Warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age gap (23F and 38M), mild/moderate angst (resolved!), alcohol consumption, discussions of family dynamics, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), slight fem dom?, dirty talk, pet names. Let me know if any are missing!

You don’t hear from Joel the next two days, save for the text he’d sent the night he dropped you off at your apartment with a broken heart. He said he’d fix this and god, you want to believe him. But silence doesn’t feel promising.

Your dad has called no less than twenty times since that night. You’ve let them all rot away in your voicemail graveyard. You don’t have the motivation to do much besides sit on the couch for your daytime crying and move back to your bed for your nighttime crying before exhaustion finally wins and you fall asleep.

There’s a knock at your door on the third day, but you don’t make any move to answer it. You hear the key turn in the lock and your mom enters the apartment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says gently, setting down an armful of groceries in the kitchen before sitting beside you on the couch, smoothing your unwashed hair from your face with a gentle hand. “I’d ask how you’re doing, but I think I know the answer.”

Tears prick at your eyes. “It hurts, mama.”

“I know, baby,” she murmurs. She pulls your head to her chest. “Have you heard from Joel? Or your daddy?”

“No, I haven’t heard anything from Joel. Dad’s called a bunch, but I…I don’t wanna talk to him, mama. He was so mean.”

“You gotta think about where he’s coming from. You’re his only baby, his little girl. He’s having a hard time separating the baby he used to rock to sleep from the woman who can make her own choices. And he reacted with the heart of a dad, not the brain of a logical man.”

You sniff. “That doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know. You don’t have to forgive him. I’m spittin’ mad at the man myself. But I just wanted you to know.” She presses a kiss to your head. “Now, help me put those groceries away. I have somewhere I gotta be in an hour.”

________

Joel nervously scrapes at the paper label on his beer bottle as he waits for his lunch guest to arrive. He’s been a wreck the past couple of days, trying to keep it together in front of Sarah while his mind wanders to you, your last words to him ringing in his ears.

I love you, Joel Miller. I hope you find it in you to not be a coward and love me back.

That’s exactly what he intends to do. He just needs someone on his side.

Which is why he texted your mom a few nights ago, asking if he could talk to her.

The woman in question approaches the table and Joel stands to greet her, holding an arm out for a handshake. She only rolls her eyes, pulling him into a hug that surprises him. When she seats herself, the waiter swings by and takes her order for a glass of Chardonnay before leaving the two of them to stare at each other.

“So. Joel Miller. You love my daughter, huh?” She asks. He swallows nervously.

“Yes, m’am.”

“And my husband was an asshole to you about it?”

He considers his response. “It..uh..could have gone better.”

She nods. The waiter drops off her wine glass and she takes a dainty sip. “Well. Tell me the whole story.”

So he does. He leaves out the more salacious bits, because your mom doesn’t need to know about what happened in her kitchen, instead focusing on how you drew him in with your sweet disposition and he was helpless to avoid falling in love with you. He tells her about bringing Sarah over and how you played with his little girl like she was the only thing that mattered in that moment. He talks about the trip to the aquarium. He mentions his stupid attempt at pushing you away.

“And I can’t do that again, m’am. I don’t want to. I told your husband that she’s the best thing that’s happened to me since Sarah was born, and I meant every word.”

The whole time, she stays quiet, sipping her wine. Occasionally, a small smile will pass across her lips.

“You know, my own daddy didn’t like my husband when he first met him. Thought he was a no good troublemaker. I think my husband forgets that he’s just as in love with someone’s daughter as you are with mine. And one day someone will love your little girl, and you’ll think they’re not good enough for her, too. It’s the curse of being a father.”

Joel nods, unsure of what to say. Your mom finishes her glass of wine before continuing.

“I think you should join us for dinner tonight, Joel. And I promise to change the gun safe code before you get there.”

________

Joel shows up at your parents house with a bottle of wine and enough nervous energy to power a small city. He feels like he might throw up as he waits for someone to answer the door.

Thankfully, it’s your mom. He hands over the bottle of Chardonnay he brought and she gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Chin up. You got this,” she says, patting him on the shoulder and guiding him to the living room.

Your dad is sitting on the couch, a glass of whiskey in hand as he staunchly refuses to meet Joel’s eyes. He takes a seat in one of the accent chairs.

“My wife says I owe you an apology,” your dad says. “And that I need to get my head out of my ass before I lose it up there for good.”

Joel has to fight back his laugh, biting his lip hard.

“I just want my daughter to be happy. And she’s right, she’s an adult now. I forget, sometimes,” he continues. “She used to ask me to check for monsters under her bed and in her closet. Hard to believe that same girl is about to graduate college. Become a doctor. Save the world. All the best things I always wished for her. And I also used to wish she’d find someone to love her. And I can’t begrudge you for being that person. So, I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Your mom shouts from the kitchen. Your dad rolls his eyes.

“For being an asshole. And ruining your date,” he grumbles. He drains the rest of his drink.

“Thank you, sir,” Joel replies. Your mom enters the living room.

“Excellent. Now, come on, Joel. Let’s talk New Year’s Eve plans.”

________

It’s New Year's Eve and your mom showed up at your apartment just after dinner with a garment bag and a stern expression.

“You are coming to the party, young lady,” she insists. “Now get in the shower.”

You do what she asks with heavy limbs. You still haven’t heard from Joel. Your dad’s phone calls have stopped. You’re not exactly looking forward to seeing him tonight.

When you get out of the shower, your mom is wielding your blow dryer like a weapon. You sit at your desk while she styles your hair for you. You do your makeup under her watchful eye, then slip into the shiny silver dress she brought for you.

“Gorgeous. Come on. Let’s go.”

She hustles you into the passenger seat of her car and drives to her house. There’s a whole line of cars parked along the curb, and you groan at the idea of having to mingle with their friends.

“Alright, in you go, chop chop,” your mom says, shooing you from the vehicle. You enter the bustling house, forcing a smile as some of your dad’s business colleagues and your mom’s friends say hello, pulling you into hugs and cheek kisses.

Your mom brings you a glass of champagne, pulling you along at her side as she talks with her guests. When the doorbell rings, your mom politely asks you to answer the door.

When you do, you feel like you’re hallucinating. Standing on the front porch is Joel, dressed in a suit, his wild curly hair slicked back and his face clean shaven.

Christ, the man can wear a suit.

“Hey, baby,” he says.

Seemingly out of nowhere, your dad appears beside you. “Hey, Joel! Come on in, can I get you anything to drink?”

You look between the two men, feeling like you’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone. Have you missed something?

Your dad shakes Joel’s hand, all smiles, and your questions only multiply. Joel squeezes your hip as he passes by, following your dad to the kitchen for a drink. You trail behind them, confused as hell as you watch them chat like they’re old friends and your dad pours him a glass of whiskey.

“Uh, Joel?” You ask. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he replies. He excused himself with your dad and you lead him upstairs to your childhood bedroom, his palm hot on your lower back.

In your room, you shut the door and take a deep breath. “Joel, what’s happening?”

“I fixed it,” he says, setting his glass down on your old dresser.

“You fixed it,” you repeat incredulously. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he says, stepping closer and slipping an arm around your waist, “I’m all in. No more runnin’. No more secrets. No more bein’ a coward. It means I’m yours, and you’re mine, and nothin’ is gonna change that.”

You blink at him. “But…my dad—“

“Met with him and your mom. Had some good talks. He just wants you to be happy, baby. He did threaten that he knew a good place to hide a body if I hurt you, though.”

“Why didn’t you call me? Or text me?”

“Because when I came back to you on my knees beggin’ for forgiveness, I wanted to have everythin’ squared away.” He drops down to one knee, then the other, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his as his hands grip your hips. “So, can you forgive me, baby?”

You smirk. “I could probably be persuaded.”

“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, trailing a hand up your calf. “You want me to earn it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, voice already breathy and your core clenching in anticipation. “I think you owe me a real thorough apology, Joel.”

He grins at you as his fingers reach the hem of your dress, urging it up your thighs until it’s bunched around your waist, exposing your panties underneath. He gently pulls them down your legs, eyes glued to your face as he does. He urges you to step out of them once they’re around your ankles.

Tossing them to the side, he lifts one of your legs and situates it on his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. “Was goin’ crazy without you.”

“Less talking, more apologizing,” you demand, breathing already labored.

He huffs a laugh against your skin before angling his face toward your center, his nose brushing your needy clit as he licks a broad stripe through your folds, his tongue dipping into your entrance. Your head drops back against the door with a groan.

“You gotta be quiet, can’t have all those nice people downstairs knowin’ you’re gettin’ your pussy devoured, huh, baby?”

You bite your lip to hold your noises as he returns to his apology, licking and sucking and biting at you until you’re a writhing mess.

“Joel!” You whisper-shout, tugging on his hair. “Want your cock, baby, please?”

His lips are shiny with your essence as he stands, hands working his belt and fly open in quick succession. He presses a messy kiss to your lips as he frees his cock, an arm wrapping around your waist to lift you up, your legs automatically circling his hips. His hot length slides against your clit and you moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed in his kiss.

He presses you against the wall so that he can use one hand to position his cock at your dripping entrance, pressing his hips forward to drive himself inside you. Your arms cling to his shoulders as you gasp at the stretch.

“Christ, darlin’,” he whispers against your neck. “I’m not gonna last long like this.”

“Don’t care,” you reply, swiveling your hips in an attempt to get him to move. “Come on, baby, you’re not gonna make me cum standing still.”

Joel chuckles darkly, drawing back and slamming harshly up into you, the power of it knocking the breath from your lungs. He pounds into you harshly, his hands sure to leave fingertip shaped bruises on the skin of your hips and ass where he holds you to drag you over his length.

“Touch yourself, pretty girl, I need you to cum with me,” he demands. You slip a hand between your bodies, fingers circling your clit with little finesse as you work in tandem with Joel to reach your release.

It shatters over you in a consuming wave, your legs going tight around his waist as you lean forward to bite your scream into his shoulder. You feel his cock pulse inside of you as he presses in deep, his release warm as it fills you to the brim.

You slump against him, boneless in the aftermath. He presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder before gently lowering you to the ground, an arm looped around your waist to support you as you try to stand on shaky legs.

He tucks his softening cock away into his boxers, pulling his pants up. He locates your panties on the brown and kneels down to help you step back into them.

“Not gonna steal this pair?” You tease. He nips the inside of your knee in retaliation.

“Only because I’m not about to send you out in your parents house with my cum dripping down your thighs,” he replies, situating the fabric on your hips before pulling your dress back down over your thighs. When he stands, he pulls you into a deep kiss, his palms framing your cheeks. “I love you,” he says as he pulls back.

You grin at him, smoothing your fingers through his mussed hair. “I love you, too.”

________

You rejoin the party, your hand in Joel’s as he leads you to the kitchen for a drink refill. It’s nearing midnight, and your dad has turned on the TV in the living room to the ball drop in anticipation.

The man in question is in the kitchen with your mom, the two of them flushed from their drinks and the heat of the full house. Your dad gives you a tentative smile.

“Hi,” he says as the two of you approach. You release Joel’s hand to pull him into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers.

“I know. Thank you, dad,” you reply. You don’t miss the shine in his eyes when you pull back and kiss him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he tells you.

The noise in the house starts to grow as the ball begins to drop, the countdown echoed in chorus by the party goers. Joel hands you a glass of champagne, pulling you into his side as he starts to join in.

“3…2…1! Happy New Year!!”

Joel tilts your face to his, planting a kiss to your lips, in front of everyone. When you pull away, your mom tugs you into a hug and your dad shakes Joel’s hand, both men smiling.

And you can’t help but think how amazing it is that one summer can change your whole world.

Tag list: @huffle-punk @telepathay @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @caatheeriinee07 @leeeesahhh @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @lovebandrry @str84pedro @daddy-din @missgurrl @paleidiot @mattmurdock1021

#no use of y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #joel x reader #cruel summer #complete fic #complete

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snowywolf1005 · 1 month

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YANDERE LAW X READER

Note: You never escape this man. He will get you no matter what. You will die.

You opened your eyes to see you were in a ship. You can't remember what happened. You were on a bed, and you tried to get up.

But you were hand cuff, wrapped around your wrist. You tried to pull them off, but "you know if you pulled your arm hard, it will start to bleed"

You looked to see a man sitting at his chair. You ignored him. Then the chain broke, and you finally free your hand.

Law was surprised and walked toward you, "I know you don't know me, my name is trafalgar D. Water law," he said.

You were shocked, you heard his name. "So what your name?" Law question, you didn't say anything. Law took out his sword and put on your neck.

"Name"

"(Y/N)(L/N)..." You said with a shaking voice. You only know your name. Law smirk, "Where am I?" You question. "Don't you remember? You were one of my crew members. And I'm your captain. You were knocked out from the battle"

You were his crew members? And you knock out?

So many questions. "Here I brought you some food," said law as he gives you some food. With fish steak, bread, and roast beef.

You grabbed a fork and started eating. The food tasted wired and different, Law sit next to you and pat your head.

"Eat every lat food you eat can't let the food be a waste isn't?" Said law, you keep eating, not even miss each food.

But you keep questioning yourself, why were you hand cuff when you woke up? Is there something that law was hiding? Is he really your captain?

There are so many questions, but you try to ignore them. After you finish the food, Law gives you medium pills.

"What this?" You asked law, he looked at. "This? This helps you to feel better and make sure you use it, " he said.

You take a pill and swallow it. You felt wired for some point, "Now you should take some rest for now" said law.

You nodded your head when you were sleeping. You were having some weird dreams.

'P-please... leave me - ALONE!...'

A voice cried.

'You know the rules, darling, you belong to me. Not anyone'

'Law voice?' You thought

'*hic* I wanna go... h-home...'

'Home? you already got home'

'N-no...'

'Don't worry, this won't a pit'

'AAAAAA!!!!!!!!!'

You woke up, and you were sweating. 'It just a dream,' you said to yourself, as you falsleep.

You didn't realize that Law was sitting next to you, watching. He put his hand on your hair and cut a piece of your hair.

Then Law takes out of a small jar and puts your hair in it.

TIMESKIP

And you with law with your check-up health. As law looks at paper of your health, he stops. You felt nervous.

"Is something wrong?" You asked. Law, look at you, "your health has one problem," he said.

"What is it?" You asked, "love, your missing love, but don't worry, it's a fairly common condition. Since your body does not produce love on its own, you should take these pills, " said law.

He gave you a can of pills. You ate the pills, "law, this medium will make me better?" You asked. "Yes," he answered.

You trust law more. He takes care of you, but you keep having this dream. But you realize maybe this dream you are having is just memory?

Every it is, you think law is lying to you?

Like lat times, when we're walking the hallway. You saw Windows doors and see, law cleaning himself.

And you saw he took his cloves out full of blood. Law gets his papers started writing, and you can't see what he is writing.

You went to bed, and then you felt something that someone was hugging you. You look behind you, and it was law. "L-law, what are you doing!?" You asked.

"I just want some cuddle," he said, closing his eyes. Your cheeks came red, "(Y/N), I love you," he wisperd to your ears.

You blush by his words. He is in love with you, and you love him. You thought he wasn't in love with you.

"I-i love... you too, law"

THANK YOU FOR READING!!!! IF YOU WANT YANDERE ONE PIECE!!!!

COMMENT BELOW!!!!

#yandere one piece #yandere one piece x reader #yandere law #yandere trafalgar law #yandere law x reader #yandere one piece law x reader

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3lle-l-black · 2 months

Text

Season of Love Event @george-weasleys-girl The list

Fred Weasley x f!Reader

Warnings: I used my headcanons in this fic (They're on my blog if you wanna take a look), not reviewed, little fic?. English is not my first language.

— You're the one who usually goes on dates like this so you're going to help me plan... Why that face?

Fred had been sitting on the bedroom floor with George by his side for about half an hour, papers about a plan that George thought would be a new prank spread out in front of both.

— Are you finally going to tell her that you like her? — A mischievous smile was on George's face.

Fred went out with girls, but dates? No. He thinks it was too romantic, too serious. George already knew how to deal with feelings a little better than him; he knew that going on a casual date with someone in Hogsmeade didn't mean that he wanted to be that person's boyfriend. Fred stayed away from dates.

That is, until he falls in love with you.

So George, knowing his brother, already understood why Fred wanted help asking you out. The problem is; You, Lee and the twins have been friends for a long time, he can't stop thinking that he could ruin everything by telling you who he likes.

— Don't worry, lovebird. She likes you too; everyone can see. — George patted his brother on the back as encouragement. He had heard enough ramblings from both you and Fred to know you were on the same page. They stayed like that for a while, George helping plan the day and Fred writing the "Plan My Love" on a piece of parchment.

Plan My Love

Pick wildflowers She doesn't like flowers Go with her to Honeydukes and buy chocolate We do this all the time, very common Maybe Zonko's Ron talked about him and Hermione drinking Butterbeer Three Broomsticks ?

Honestly, he wrote your name more times than wrote places for you to go together. Maybe because Fred felt each option might not be enough to win you over.

It was almost curfew when they heard a knock on the door. The twins looked at each other, Fred got up and headed towards the door.

— Hide everything, tomorrow after class I’ll ask if she wants to...

I knocked on the wooden door and waited until someone told me I could enter. Voices can be heard on the other side. The night was lonely and during the day I didn't see the twins, so why not come and visit them? It's not uncommon for me to sleep here, but most of the time they come to visit me, with some new invention or whatever, and leave in the middle of the night through the secret passages.

I hear some footsteps approaching the door and I hear Fred's muffled voice coming closer.

— ...after class I'll ask if she wants to...

The door creaks as Fred opens it, his eyes widen when he sees me. He stops and his voice wavers, stretching out the last word of the sentence. As if he had been caught red-handed.

— toooh my Merlin! I didn't expect see you here — He tries to hide it but his voice is still shaking. Fred closes the door closer and stands between the wall and it, blocking my view of the room.

— Can I come in or...? — I squint my eyes and lift my feet a little trying to see over Fred's shoulder. — What are you hiding? Who will want to do what?

George opens the door and hangs on his brother's shoulder. — Oh it's nothing. We were talking about the homework Minerva gave us, right Fred?

— Right George — They step away from the door and Fred gestures for me to enter, — My love.

The nickname always makes my heart skip a beat. At first, I thought it was a provocation and complained, but now... I don't know if I love or hate it because, well, it's just a nickname. Snapping out of my reverie, I walk into the room and towards George's bed, not realizing that behind me, Fred was giving his brother a nod of thanks for disappearing with all the papers.

Their dorm is always so cozy, not in a traditional way, but cozy. At least for me. They have sweaters scattered around, inventions here and there and if you look closely, you can catch a whiff of cinnamon and gunpowder in the air.

I ended up sleeping there, we stayed talking and laughing until late - and after I laid down on Fred's bed it was too warm and cozy to just get up - so I decided to go back to my dorm in the morning, before classes started.

In the morning

— Hey, wake up sunshine. Did you take some kind of sleeping pill?

My eyes slowly open and see Fred smiling sitting next to me in bed, I slowly get up while Fred talks about how long it took him to wake me up. — It's time, I'll take you to your dorm. — He has one of the prettiest smiles I've ever seen and is close enough for me to smell his scent. Which honestly makes me wanna pull him close and not leave here anytime soon. Reluctantly, I stand up making Fred move away.

— Here. So you don't have to wear just your pajamas in the cold — He pulls one of his sweaters from the trunk in front of the bed and hands it to me. I took the sweater from his hand and thanked him, smiling back at him.

— You always take care of me, I like that — I say putting on the sweater.

What you didn't know was that your simple comment almost made Fred lose his breath, he cleared his throat, ignoring that his heart was racing. — You know, I'm a gentleman. Come on my love.

Fred started walking towards the door and I was right behind him, but I saw a rolled up parchment next to my foot on the floor. I stopped, leaned over, picked up the parchment and opened it without much pretense.

My name? My expression slowly changes with each word. I just stand there in the middle of the room, totally unresponsive. When the realization hits me, I have to bite my lower lip to keep from screaming with happiness. My attention fixates on Fred, who was looking through the door, maybe seeing if there are anyone in the hallway.

He likes me too?!

Looking at the parchment once more, I miss the moment when Fred turns to me and realizes the situation. It's so quiet I'm sure I can hear Fred's heart pounding from across the room.

— Bloody hell... — He curses under his breath. The atmosphere in the room becomes more tense, looking at him is like seeing a petrified deer in headlights, — Freddie...

— No, I know, just, please don't hate me — He runs his hands over his face and his shoulders slump.

You know those moments when you have no idea what to do? Like you're glued to the floor, afraid of saying the wrong thing? this is one of them. I approach slowly and the moment when Fred's posture becomes more tense is visible.

— Going to Honeydukes and Zonko's doesn't seem like a bad plan — I hand the parchment to Fred wearing a comforting smile. He relaxes a little, takes a deep breath and holds the edge of the parchment, but doesn't actually take it. — And don't you think it's too simple for you? — Fred looks at me, observing my reactions, — The plan... Me...

The last word comes out more like a whisper, It's even strange to see the charming Fred Weasley like this. He forces a provocative smile but after years of noticing every detail of him it's easy to recognize when he's pretending. — I think it's perfect. Who wouldn't like a date with the incredible Fred Weasley, right?

Fred breaks into a laugh, the cheeks and tips of the ears turning red, and I just sigh, thinking how handsome this boy is when he's smilin. Fred whispers "We better go" as he nods to the door and we both walked together through the secret passages towards my dorm.

The walk was silent, but Fred never left your side, you can feel a cozy warmth radiating from him. In the middle of a narrower passage, he intertwined your hands and gave you a confident smile, damn smile that made your heart miss a beat. You got closer and wrapped your free hand around his arm.

The sweater he's wearing tickles the side of your face and I hear Fred takes a deep breath, — How can you be so pretty? You're making my heart hurt, woman.

A laugh escapes you and you lightly tap him on the shoulder, — Stop being dramatic.

— I mean it, my love — Fred waves his wand. Suddenly, a door at the end of the passage swings open, and your bedroom door is right there, just a few feet to the side of the new opening.

Your reluctance to say goodbye was remarkable. The cold morning contributing to the atmosphere becoming better, as if even the weather was happy for you.

— So, do you want to... go to Hogsmeade with me?

You pretend to think a little, — humm, just us?

Fred smiles at your provocation, biting his lower lip, — Yes, my lady, just the two of us. — He extends his free hand to your waist and moves a little closer with a mischievous smile. Our boy is confident.

— Of course, Freddie.

Fred melted when he heard the nickname, you always call him that, and every time he felt like he had just won a Quidditch match. Feeling confident, you stand on tiptoe and kiss the side of his mouth, more on his cheek than his lips.

— I need to go.

A mischievous smile lights up Fred's face, he leans in and reaches your lips, leaving a quick kiss there. — See you later, My Love.

You don't even finish closing the door when happiness washes over you. Your mouth opens in disbelief and you have to hold yourself back from jumping around the room in excitement.

On the other side, Fred was jumping and punching the air, whispering a few "I did it" to yourself, trying not to make too much noise so he wouldn't get caught.

Used dividers - @saradika Reminder: English is not my first language, these are my first fics, support your creators by reblogging and visit the @george-weasleys-girl blog 🧡

#fred weasley #george weasley #Season of Love Event #gêmeos weasleys #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley headcanons #friends to lovers #weasley twins #gred and forge #fred weasley x you

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 2 months

Text

A/N ::: I'm fucking out of gas and runnin' on E when it comes to my TokRev stuff and I'm super sad. So I watched this today and fell in love with it a little bit more. To my besties out there, I'm sorry 😭😭😭 for tagging you in something you probably don't even CARE about. But thank you if you read this, anyway. Ilygsm <3

C/W ::: NSFW Headcanons. Just MDNI UNDER THE CUT, please.

Asahi Azumane HC’s

SFW

This man is the type you want to bring home to have dinner with your parents and then throw down on your childhood bed after dessert.

His favorite parts of his body are his eyes and his hands. He says he likes them because they help him win games and they helped him win your heart.

He. Is. Sappy. Fairly often.

His favorite parts of your body are your eyes, lips, hands, ass and thighs. He likes to stare into your eyes and look down at your lips before he kisses you. He likes that he can cover a good portion of your thigh with his hands and leave a huge handprint on your ass when he's in the mood to do so.

He used to sleep on his side until you started sleeping over. Now he sleeps on his back so you can cuddle up next to him under his arm and rest your head on his chest.

Has written you secret poetry. Nothing epic, but just like 5-10 lines about how you remind him of the most beautiful and exotic flower.

Secretly hopes you find the stash he has of these papers so he can quit living the lie about how he writes poems for you.

L-o-v-e-s it when you let him lay his head on your lap while you're just sitting around watching a movie or at a picnic on the hillside overlooking the city. He says it relaxes him (but if you do it for too long he gets to feelin' it and then is like - "Hey, *raises his eyebrows a couple of times* ... you wanna uh, go for a ride with me?"

Gets along with moms and dads. Moms can't get over how handsome, charming AND nice he is. Dads are always impressed with his professionalism and drive when it comes to practice, game days and his education.

Your friends like him because he treats you like his own private queen. But like, low-key. He doesn't want you to get all arrogant because that's such a gross character trait. He loves you and he lets you know. And that's good enough for you both.

Doesn't love you unconditionally - which is refreshing. It's an equal partnership and you've both never been in something like that before. You both say it’s your first ‘adult’ relationship with someone else.

NSFW

He's so big that you can actually climb him like a tree (he not only lets you, but encourages it).

Will kiss you so softly and sweetly until he starts to get into it. Then he's a moaning big little mess over/under you - wherever he happens to be at the time.

He likes it when you're on top, though, so he can sorta be face to face with you. He's so damn tall that his head is either banging against the headboard or his feet dangle off the edge of the bed. So if you're on top, then he has all kinds of leisurely positions at his disposal.

His hips are wide and his thighs are too. (But not in a weird way - in a strong fucking hot ass athletic man way)

Likes it when you ride his thighs - doesn't have a preference about which one - is just happy when you're dragging your wet pussy across his muscular leg until you're cumming all over it.

His cock. sigh It's so fucking gorgeous: Cut, 7"L x 2.25"Diameter, goes straight up against his abdomen - has been bigger on occasion, depending on how pent up/turned on he is.

Kisses your neck a lot, whenever, wherever.

Gives you a lot of back hugs when he's horny. He thinks it's funny how his cock presses into your back. Jokes that if you just stood on a stool to do the dishes or cook things, it'd be so much easier to just have you.

Into spanking, but not hurting you. It's more like foreplay for him or in the heat of the moment. He has spanked you harder than at other times, but you never say anything to him about it because you like it and don’t want him to stop.

He likes to fuck you after games. Whether he wins or loses. It's just become a sort of tradition.

Blushes when you suck his dick. He thinks it's so lewd and so sexy that he has trouble looking you in the eye but FUCK HE LOVES HOW YOU LOOK WHEN YOU'RE BETWEEN HIS LEGS so he forces himself to maintain eye contact - not for extended periods of time, but throughout. He found it was easier to break up the intensity rather than face it all at once.

Has a breeding kink but doesn't even know what that is/won't admit it. He. Loves. To. Cum. Inside. Of. You. He says things through loosely gritted teeth, "Ohhh yeah? 'M g'na fill y'r cute li'l hole, angel. G'na be so full from this ... mmhm. Geh ready, cum-cummin'!"

Is shy about saying "cunt" and "pussy". You're working on it w/him.

Has cum before from just eating you out. Was NOT embarrassed about it.

He likes to watch your pussy twitch after he makes you cum on his tongue.

Likes to tease you about your kinks. He's always like, "Ooooh, you're such a ... s-slut - wanna get fucked by your dad, huh? I knew you were a little dirty brat - you like to take it in all your holes, baby girl?"

Is absolutely ruined and humiliated when you say "Asa," you slap your forehead with the palm of your hand, "NO ONE wants to be fucked by their - oh god. It's 'daddy', ok babe? D-A-D-D-Y."

Vows to never tease you about the filthy shit you like so long as you don't remind him how he said that to you one day.

Taglist ::: @arlerts-angel @kazutora-kurokawa @katkitkats @viburnt

@mackenziebrooks (hope it's ok to tag you in this! i think we talked about it at one point, yeah?)

#asahi azumane #azumane asahi #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #asahi x reader #asahi x you #asahi fluff #asahi azumane fluff #azumane asahi fluff #asahi smut #haikyuu smut

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luvxiem · 2 years

Text

the stars aligned for us

word count ! 【idk】idk【idk】 pairing ! luxiem x gn!reader (separately) genre ! fluff, mild angst on luca's part summary ! different soulmate au tropes w our faves bc i'm weak and love self indulgence 🤭 soulmate aus my beloved cw ! non-explicit violence/injuries on luca's part notes ! this was written on my phone so sorry for the uggy formatting and any typos 😭💔 btw tysm for 100 followers 🥺🫶 i appreciate y'all lots for enjoying my shit LMFAOOO it's just me projecting on here but i'm glad u guys enjoy it anyways when u wanna read a fanfic so bad but it doesn't exist yet so u gotta write it urself also kindred plz don't kill me for calling vox an asshole i meant it endearingly (insert "'i hate him' while putting up his picture" meme here)

.｡.:*☆ IKE EVELAND !

TROPE: SEEING COLORS

ike's world has been black and white for as long as he could remember

his friends have always told him how beautiful everything be came after they made eye contact with their soulmate for the first time

despite them trying their best to describe colors (what does a "warm" color even look like anyway?) it was hard for ike to really care

after all, how can you miss something you never experienced?

but more than seeing colors, the novelist just wanted to meet his soulmate

it wasn't that he was lonely; ike had his fair share of relationships in the past with others like him (those who haven't had the chance to meet their soulmate just yet, but wanted to date anyways)

however being a writer comes with a certain sense of romanticism and a lust for life, and ike was no exception

he's always loved the thought of meeting someone who was perfect for him in every way; a person who he could be his honest self around and love with all his heart

this is why when he suddenly started seeing colors he never could've imagined on a busy sidewalk, he immediately started scanning the crowd for you

he spotted you under the canopy of a nearby cafe. you were looking around with clear awe on your face, mouth slightly agape as you took in the new world around you, not even noticing the grumbles of passerby who narrowly avoided you.

you looked almost ethereal in your (now known as blue) button up, the sunshine leaving your skin in a warm glow. the gentle breeze ruffled your hair just right, and the novelist couldn't tear his gaze away.

as much as ike wanted to admire his new view too, he was more focused on making sure he didn't lose you. he's thought about it countless of times—dreamt of it, even—of somehow meeting his soulmate and losing them right away, never to be seen again. ike's lost enough sleep over it and he was determined to not make his nightmares a reality.

pushing past shoulders with rushed "sorry's" and "excuse me's," ike rushed to get to you as quick as possible; and soon enough, he was now standing face to face with you—the person who would become the love of his life.

your gaze fell onto him and an unspoken realization was met. you could feel it to; the ecstasy blooming in your very core at finally meeting your other half.

"hi," he breathed, a broad smile adorning his face. "i think i'm your soulmate."

.｡.:*☆ LUCA KANESHIRO !

TROPE: MUTUAL PAIN

woe is the soulmate of a certain blonde haired mafia boss

injuries came with the job, unfortunately, but the soft-hearted man couldn't help but feel sorry for his soulmate

luca knew some most of his injuries weren't normal. civilians don't get bullet wounds in their arm or knife slashes to the chest

did his soulmate worry for him? or were they wishing they weren't fated at all? as much as it hurt, luca couldn't find it in himself to blame them if they did

the small pricks he felt on his fingertips from presumably paper cuts can't compare to literally getting stabbed in the back

eventually it came to a point where luca tried to stop going outside altogether

he can't obtain any further injuries if he's always at the base, right?

but that fantasy couldn't last forever.

the one day he had to be escorted to a different location, him and his guards got ambushed

luca was the only one who got away, but not without sustaining a bullet wound to his shoulder

it wasn't as bad as it could've been but it still hurt like a bitch

stumbling into an alleyway, the blonde collapsed next to a dumpster, creating a loud thud that echoed into the night

luca was ready to rip off a piece of his shirt to wrap his shoulder when suddenly a bright light momentarily blinded him

standing a little bit away was you, pointing your phone flashlight on him while gripping your shoulder in your other hand

"so you're a med student?" luca asks, gritting his teeth when you dab at his bullet wound with rubbing alcohol. tossing the cotton ball, you reach into your first aid kit for gauze.

"yeah," you say quietly, starting to wrap his shoulder. the blonde frowns noticing how you refuse to meet his eyes. he opened his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

"i chose this path because of you." at your words luca's eyebrow raises in question. you finished wrapping him up and now rest your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers. "you got so many injuries growing up and i didn't know what to do. i was worried you didn't have anyone to help you so i wanted to learn how," you explain quietly. at this the mafia boss's gaze softens.

"how'd you know? that i'm your soulmate, i mean," he asks. reaching up, you gently grazed the large scar on his abdomen with your fingers.

"i recognized your injuries," you said. luca shivered at your touch, raising his non-injured arm to cover your hand with his.

"i'm glad i ran into you then, soulmate."

.｡.:*☆ MYSTA RIAS !

TROPE: COUNTDOWN TIMER

mysta's known since he was five that he had a soulmate, just like every other five-year-old in his class

but there was one teeny little problem

ok actually it was a major problem

his timer seemed to be broken

instead of the few years or days or months like his friends had, his timer was set to decades

because of how long his timer was set for, mysta was teased mercilessly for "having a soulmate who doesn't even want to meet him"

this followed him for most of his youth until eventually he covered up his wrist and tried to forget about it alltogether

if he wasn't going to meet his soulmate until he was old and gray, why should he even care

that was until he fell through that damned portal and landed in 2022

he noticed it after he got out of the shower, spotting his wrist in the mirror while brushing back his hair

mysta's mouth dropped open in shock, dropping his arm to gently run his fingers over the numbers

the timer that was the bane of his younger self's existence was down to the hours

the detective was antsy, understandably.

a lifetime of thinking he wouldn't ever meet his soulmate suddenly turned into meeting his soulmate in twenty minutes. mysta wasn't sure what to do, how he should act. should he go outside? he should, right? how else would he meet you?

filled with a newfound sense of determination, mysta grabbed his keys and darted into the london night.

there was hardly anyone out this late; maybe his timer really was broken? what were you doing out at one in the morning, don't you know that's dangerous? who knows what kind of dangerous people were prowling outside right now.

mysta started walking briskly toward a more crowded area of the city. if he had to meet you, it would be somewhere safe.

settling on standing in front of a pub he's been to a few times with friends, the detective started counting down the minutes till he would meet you. he kept glancing at his wrist, watching the numbers go down one by one until there was only a minute left on the clock.

mysta tapped his foot impatiently as he glanced left and right down the street until suddenly, he felt the lightest tap on his shoulder. he spun on his heel and low and behold, there you were.

grinning, you spoke.

"nice to finally meet you, soulmate."

and mysta couldn't be happier.

.｡.:*☆ SHU YAMINO !

TROPE: SWITCHING BODIES

in all honesty, shu couldn't care less about having a soulmate

the idea of the universe choosing who he would fall in love with didn't sit right with him

not to mention how frustrating it would be sometimes when the two of you switched bodies at inconvenient times

like in the middle of one of his experiments

or when he's talking to one of his fellow sorcerers

or how about that time he was meditating in a lovely, perfectly quiet room for the first time in ages as a way to destress only to suddenly wake up in your body in the middle of a bustling city

yeah, shu wasn't all too happy about it, but what can he do?

so while all his friends were out actively searching for ways to meet their soulmate in person, shu was directing his energy toward mastering his powers instead

but the thing about having a soulmate is that you can't exactly reject them altogether

they're your soulmate for a reason, after all

so despite his resistance, the purple sorcerer found himself falling for you all the same

he grew antsy at particularly long periods without switching and eventually started leaving notes behind for you for when you would eventually switch

including a bright purple post-it with an address and a time and date

shu sat inside the cafe anxiously, bouncing his leg under the table while sipping his drink. he hoped that his note was obvious enough that you saw it the last time you guys swapped bodies, but how could he know for sure? you didn't leave a reply on his note, and the swap period was rather short that time too.

minutes passed the written time and the pounding in shu's chest grew louder and louder in his ears. he looked up at every tinkle of the bell above the door, hoping that it was you only to be disappointed when it wasn't. he kept glancing out the window rather obsessively, and soon enough his cup was empty too.

after 40 minutes had gone by, the sorcerer had just about given up. letting out a disappointed sigh, he rose from his chair to leave his tray and finished drink on the counter only to pause when the bell jingled one last time. shu looked up on instinct and his breath got caught in his throat.

in the doorway was you, slightly sweaty and definitely out of breath, looking frantically around the cafe before your eyes landed on him. shu was still holding the tray in his hands when you ran up to him, still in shock at seeing you in the flesh for the first time and not just through a mirror.

"h...hi..." you stutter, gripping the strap of your tote bag tightly in your fists. "i'm sorry i'm late. but i'm so glad i found you." shu broke out of his trance and smiled, setting the tray back down on the table.

"i'm glad you found me too."

.｡.:*☆ VOX AKUMA !

TROPE: FIRST WORDS

fitting for a voice demon that the first words his soulmate says to him is permanently printed onto his skin

"you're gonna have to try harder than that if you wanna impress me, pretty boy" decorated his ribs under his right pectoral

now vox knows he's hot

he's well aware of the power he holds fucking asshole and uses his charm and good looks to his advantage

the demon spent most of his early years dropping one liners and introducing himself with various pickup lines in an attempt to find his elusive soulmate

and many have tried to pretend they were his fated one but they never succeeded

after the death of his clan and being transported to the future, it took vox a long time to feel ready to find his soulmate again

slowly he started visiting pubs and parties in an attempt to socialize

it was at one of these parties that he met you

beer in hand, vox pushed past a group laughing with each other in the hallway to slip out onto the balcony. he was hoping to get a chance to breathe and get away from all the sweaty partygoers, but there was already another person out here with him. figuring it wouldn't hurt to say something, the demon let a familiar smirk slip onto his face as he approached you.

sensing his presence, you turned your head to look at him in curiosity, fiddling with the many rings on your fingers.

"why hello there; what's a gorgeous person like you doing out here all alone?" he drawls, sliding up next to you. a breathy laugh escaped your lips, dropping your head to your chest for a moment before you looked back up and meeting his gaze dead on.

"you're gonna have to try harder than that if you wanna impress me, pretty boy."

at your words vox faltered, the smirk falling from his face as his lips parted in surprise. the skin where his soulmate mark was seemed to tingle.

it seems like you figured it out too; your eyes widened and suddenly you were tugging your shirt up to show a matching tattoo on your ribs. you let the fabric fall back down and looked back up at him, a softer smile now gracing your features as vox reached over to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"would you look at that," you laughed happily. "guess you really did impress me, pretty boy."

WRITTEN ! 080222

1K notes · View notes

k4marina · 11 months

Text

guesss who’s back to rantttttt 🙈

adding into this, i feel that simon wearing his mask (with the diy skull and the printed one) would do the complete opposite of being a ghost like literally. technically, simon riley is dead. he died in a fire with his family and the last thing he needs or wants is attention.

i mean can u imagine the rumors going around?

“that bloke who wears that skull mask? he’s bare weird man” (idek if that proper slang, pls don’t kill me).

i also feel like it would also bring unwanted people from his work to his home (or the little hole he lives in. i mean let’s be honest, it’s pretty fkn bare). there aren’t many people who are british, have a gravely voice, AND wear a skull mask. i mean that’s an easy target right there.

i don’t think that simon would introduce himself in a civilian setting as “ghost”. if a guy came up to me and said “call me ghost” i’d fkn laugh in his face and call him a bozo.

why would he introduce himself with his callsign if he isn’t in the “work” environment???? again that’s just unwanted attention.

i 100% believe that simon and the rest of the 141 are the types to have a work life and a civilian life. he wouldn’t want to bring any of the shit he has to go through at work back to his hole home.

as much as he hates being alone back in manchester, he still needs it. he needs a break from all of the war he has to go through.

ghost and simon are two different entities with two different lives and just because simon riley is dead on paper doesn’t mean he’s actually gone.

simon knows that if he brings ghost back home he’s only hurting himself and falling into a bottomless pit.

that’s why he wouldn’t wear the mask in public or anytime he’s on leave (unless it’s his home and there has to be a very specific reason why), and that’s why he wouldn’t walk around telling people his callsign.

unless the fic is taking place on base with a soldier!reader, there is no actual reason why simon would wear the mask and go by ghost.

ghost & mask = work

simon & and bare face = home or just civilian life.

there’s no reason why he would want to mix work and civilian life together.

and if people can say that he’s insecure about his face and don’t want to show it off, but i’d have to disagree. i mean did u hear him when he was talking with soap?

bro was 100% smiling like a cocky little shit when he said “quiet the opposite”. this mfer knows that he’s hot and enjoys it. in my delulu mind, i think simon enjoys whatever scars are on his face because he thinks they make him more hotter (i also don’t think he has that many scars on his face bc i think it’s one of the hardest places to attack idk).

that’s still not to say that he won’t get the usual waves of depression and the usual stares from people for his beauty and scars, but he’d still take it over the weird looks when he gets when he wears the mask.

technically speaking, no matter how attractive, it’s harder to remember someone with a pretty face and accurately described it than remember a mask and describe it, which i think simon understands completely.

someone also brought up the cut scene before the “no russian” one of where simons and the 141 are in the bar and he’s wearing the mask.

i have to agree with the person who said this that people saw that and took it face value that he wears the mask outside. not everything is lore, or is it 100% cannon. sometimes some things are for shits and giggles.

if you’ve read it this far i just wanna let y’all’s know i’m not trying to be mean. i’m just ranting. i’m all for creative freedom and wanting ppl to write whatever they want, i just want it to make sense yk? and if i came off bitch my bad bro.

anyways imma go sleep or smt. caio ;)

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smolvenger · 3 months

Text

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Eighteen (Loki x fem! Reader Hiddlesverse Crossover Series)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1880's in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him

Chapter Summary: Longing to return to your husband and friends, you take the next steps for revenge, both big and small. Your powers perform a miracle for the town to get you into their good graces. Then, an unexpected invitation arrives.

Word Count: 4K (for me, that's short. Don't wanna write super long chapter bc I fear people hate it)

Chapter Warnings: No smut, but mentions of sex and masturbation with references to and deconstructing the canon events The Essex Serpent the book, and the show, including not portraying Cora or Will or their affair sympathetically so if you don't like that don't read this, discussions of cheating and a brief mention of the fear of sexual violence. Loki gets jealous for a hot second. Some angst, but some humor. Supporting Women's Wrongs. Reader causing problems on purpose. Portrayals of religion. My saltiness slips out into roasts.

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

The first letter had its destination. You got out a piece of paper, writing down the address of the seminary that appointed him the vicarage of Aldwinter. Then you began writing.

“Dear sirs,

I have some unfortunate news. I suspect the Reverend William Ransome is not of moral character fitting his position here. He is engaged to marry…”

You hesitated. Thinking carefully, if you signed it with your name, Will would know it was you. No, you couldn’t risk that. You continued writing.

“... a Miss Y/L/N. However, an intact love letter from a woman named Mrs.Seaborne was discovered in his possession. It is dated during his still current engagement to Ms. Y/L/N. It is enclosed here. There must be an inspection in his vicarage to see if he encouraged Mrs. Seaborne and if there were other incidents. If found that he behaved in a manner not befitting godly character, it is doubtful he can have the right to sacred orders and to function as a public figure of the church at least in Aldwinter.”

Sincerely,

An anonymous member of the congregation.”

Stuffing both this paper and the first letter in an envelope, you then sealed with wax. Then wrote down the address of the council.

You hurried to the post office, paid postage, and quickly mailed it out before anyone could see. Too many talking mouths.

You heard Loki congratulate you.

‘I couldn’t have done better, my dear. You’ve learned from the best. You’re a wife to the god of mischief indeed.’

Once you got home, though you skimmed over the book of Matthew beside the fire, you weren’t focused on the scripture. You would have to figure out where to send the other two letters. One would have to get to someone in town, anyone who attended church would do. You’d figure out the how later.

But the third one would require research… Mrs. Seaborne’s ambition in life was to become recognized as a woman of science.

Too bad sleeping with another’s fiancee typically results in a woman’s utter ruin.

And now you had the evidence in hand. You had to figure out where to send it to. Which department of science? Who received her research? What if she wasn’t sending it at all, what then? Would she gather up her fossils as Stella loved to gather up seashells?

Your thoughts then returned to Stella… your friend who shared a fate with you.

Had you not been there…it would have been her. She would have married Will and fell in love with him. Been the dutiful, obedient wife who carried the Word in her mouth and his children in her womb. Stella, stricken with consumption, about to die…and for William to repay her devotion and life with him with inconstancy. Doomed to do nothing about her husband’s obsessive lust for another woman and in fact, smile at it.

His happiness was what mattered. His happiness. Not hers.

And she would have borne it without even speaking a complaint. She’d be their matchmaker like a dutiful little wife all while she never let her heart sway to another man, much less bring him to the marriage bed that her upright, moral, virtuous, godly husband had the freedom to. The marriage bed Will would have set on fire and destroyed into bits all while she smiled and laid in it and let him burn her into ashes.

She’d want them to be together. Content and not the least bit unhappy that she never mattered to Will in the first place. She’d even attempt suicide- end her own life- so they could be together!

The perfect wife to a man who couldn’t be decent.

…what would she get out of it?

At the end of the day, who was kissing their lover, and who was the one about to drown?

And even for her selfless and complete and utter devotion to Will…it wouldn’t be the same from him. He wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice or control himself for Stella…not one bit. He was a man who did not deserve her. Did not deserve the great, selfless love she had for everyone in her life…even you.

You were the same not long ago. The self-sacrificial, dutiful, passive wife who wanted nothing but his happiness. That was why you agreed to that bargain on that fateful day.

You had to avenge Stella. Even if now it wouldn’t happen, you had to. For you and she were one half of one whole fate. And in this one, the abandoned woman would not passively sit until she killed herself for such selfish monsters.

If Stella were the one destined to not fight….you would. For her sake as well as yours.

You paused, remembering how frightened she was in Grendel’s cave the last you saw her.

‘How is Stella?”’ you asked Loki. You knew you asked him a hundred times before. And he would tell you.

‘She was having nightmares keeping her awake. Flinching, bursting into tears and fits of great fear of anything involving Grendel…but she is getting better.’

“When will she be home? Her family keeps asking after her…they mourn her as if she died. I cannot stay long with them without weeping. It destroys me every time”

“She was in her house when Grendel took her…she doesn’t feel safe there now. So she wants to stay here...”

“Without it being safe for Thomas to deliver letters…They think she’s your whore for good now.”

“If I forced Stella to be my whore, I think my wife would have something to say about it. Not to mention Jonathan.”

“Oh, he’d say something. His fists can make a whole sentence itself.”

His warm laughter made you smile over the large, thick book in your lap.

“Oh, Loki, bless him-I knew from when he gave her those flowers. But I don’t think he’ll admit he is besotted with her already,” you added on.

“Jonathan is not a man who will easily admit anything, why else did he become a spy?”

In the night, you couldn’t sleep. Your mind was still racing, refusing to shut off. You went to the window in your room, sitting on a chair to stare out. You looked outside at the country darkness outside. For only the stars and moon above showed any light on the little town.

Out of curiosity, your senses reached out. You sensed Will was not asleep at all and not in his house. He was in the field alone of all places! And standing before a bonfire. Then you could sense he was speaking…

“Oh Lord, I renounce my sins…”

Atoning and cleansing his sins? Looks like he was going to need a lot more firewood then.

You stopped your powers. But you went back to here and looked up at the starry sky. You missed them- all of them. Sif’s little glares when something annoyed her. Stella trying on the Asgardian dresses. Robert making quips as he lit a cigarette. Thomas happily chatting over whatever device he was working on Jonathan observing everything stoically, but when someone spoke gently to him, a beautiful smile on his face. Hal’s bright eyes as he taught everyone how to fight with a sword during training. Thor’s loud laughter. Queen Frigga coming in to ask over all of you, for it was her role as an AllMother to be Mother to all.

And Loki- dear, funny, charming, mischievous Loki, your True Love, your husband…you missed him most of all.

You had to be patient. It would only motivate you further. Once this was all done and you figured it out, you would return to see all of them without a minute’s delay.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The hairy dog that kept humping things was approaching your front yard.

His pet was with him.

“Ah, dear Reverend, will you stop by for tea?” your mother hurried off from your gardening together to greet Will.

“Yes, you are welcome,” you repeated, though your voice felt small.

He was in his overcoat and his formal green vest. The spaniel barked at his feet, tail wagging but held close thanks to the leash. You smiled and leaned down to pet him, for had you become married to the Lusty Vicar, the dog would be the most loyal man in your life.

“I only have time to stop and say my hellos- especially for the lady here, please,” Will greeted, his eyes shining at you.

You returned up. You fluttered your eyes down in a picture of docility and chastity.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you greeted sweetly.

He then did something you were surprised he did in your mother’s presence. With his free hand, he found the ends of your skirt and gently tugged you a little closer to him. He smiled up at you.

“Why, how are you, my dear?” he asked.

“Doing alright,” you answered.

“I hear your headaches have been better, are you getting rest?”

“Yes, plenty as I can, Will,” you answered.

“That’s good, my darling,” he replied.

You heard Loki cut in.

“That’s MY word for you!”

“Hush!” you sent back

“I just sent a telegram to Bishop Anderson. He has been promised there will be no disruptions and he will marry us next month,” he announced, his voice soft and almost on the edge of seduction. Completely unaware of the letter you sent to the council and the disaster about to hit him in at least a few weeks.

Loki cut in again- “You do know that every Thursday he goes to the ocean and relieves his seed in it to thoughts of Cora!”

“I’m not surprised- hush!” you silently urged your husband again.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” you replied, smiling at him.

“Are you going to be at the dance tonight, Y/N?”

The thought of being in there and having to endure potentially being in the same room as Mr. I-Can’t-Think-Straight-Around-Her and Cora and not screaming at both of them made you feel nauseous.

But he didn’t need to know that now.

“Oh, of course, I shall!” you replied.

“Ah, then I hope to dance with my wife then,” he prodded.

“We are not yet married,” you reminded him meekly, folding your hands and looking demurely down.

“Yet you are mine already in my heart. For nothing shall stop me from joining you in Holy Matrimony and for us together to spend a life doing God’s will. I shall escort you there tonight, Y/N,” he promised.

He wasn’t wrong about the first bit, as Grendel told you.

He took your hand and kissed it. You grinned up at him with a loving look on your face.

Yes, Y/N, smile. Be polite. Charming even. And never let him know you want him dead.

Then, urging his dog forward with his leash, he went about his way through the brown and white town.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That night was the promised dance. You kept your word and went with him.

So many others would gather- that dance hall with candlelight that made the brown walls orange. Some people dressed in dark colors, but young people eager to flirt and laugh. Tables full of punch, cake, and fruit. A piano constantly playing.

And Will in a tuxedo like the other men, ever the picture of handsomeness. You had three dances with him. The number permitted for an engaged couple. As tempting as it was to grab the neck of his bow tie and strangle him with it was there, you fought it back.

No, you looked up at him and smiled. Curtsied at the end of dances as people clapped around you.

Of course, Cora was there in her grey dress. But when she arrived, you put on a smile and curtsied and greeted her like any other person. Not talking to her more than you had to. You kept your eyes down for the rest of the party- sensing her like you were in the ocean and felt the presence of a shark. You knew Will would still stare at her intensely in your own presence. You would pretend like you didn’t know, and keep your eyes down again like a docile lady with no thoughts but love and marriage.

Maybe he had you both in boxes. For surely he thought you didn’t consent to be in Loki’s bed and that was why he pitied you as opposed to hated you. There was also the loophole- you were still considered chaste even though you weren’t. Since you didn’t want to bed Loki but were forced to.

You were his Virgin. Cora was his Whore.

He wanted to marry you because you fit being the chaste wife who sipped tea and quoted Philippians. And he could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted with Cora. One for his house and the other for his hand. Cora couldn’t be that wife for the vicarage. And you couldn’t be the one who could spit out some stupid science fact to make his penis erect.

He wanted both. To have his cake and eat it too, like what Robert would say.

But as the party progressed…it occurred to you that you might be a little wrong at least on your part. Will’s touch on you was still proper- an arm to drape yours over. But only slightly more amorous, sometimes a hand to touch your back. Sometimes a brief, chaste kiss. Becoming slightly more amorous.

It then hit you…Did Will…lust after you? It wasn’t just chaste affection or passion he felt for you- but did it include the Lusty Vicar’s Lusty Penis?

You stopped for a moment and mused on it. Will left you to talk to some friends, promising he’d be back.

Honestly, It flattered you to be desired. And you had to have the shield up to not hear Loki’s complaints of jealousy right now.

You knew Will wouldn’t urge you to his bed before marriage. At the most extreme, not publicly.

But…what if…what if that passion was still there? With the wedding re-planning, you knew it would happen soon. If you let time slip, you will find yourself a bigamist! You knew the Lusty Vicar would live up to his nickname and want to fuck you right after you said your I do’s!

At the most extreme, if that happened…you could say no. Will had done some disgusting and reprehensible things…but you couldn’t imagine him forcing himself on you.

Perhaps you could tell him “no” on your wedding night. Tell him you were still distressed from being the Trickster God’s whore. Tell him you weren’t ready to consummate your (second) marriage. Will would very likely comply. Maybe even tell him to sleep on the couch alone. Now- there was a funny picture! You- safe and snug in that blue bed and asleep. And the tall, hairy man curled up on his couch as much as his height would allow him. The cold air deflating the Lusty Vicar’s Lusty Penis like a balloon after a party.

But…how long would that last? He’d respect you but suspect something was up. Then, how could you discreetly get revenge on him after you wedded him?

You had to cool him.

But looking up, you saw with silent horror that he was staring at Cora again. There was a piano playing-a dance theme like you heard in your old dream. A song urging them to dance. Rage burned in the bottom of your stomach.

He needed not only cooling but the equivalent of a swift kick to the groin- and you had an idea of how to do both at once.

Looking over, you noted the tablecloth of the refreshment table was a dark green. Your True Love’s favorite dark green.

Perfect.

You went up to the refreshment table for punch, taking a little cup and going to the glass bowl. A few guests talked nearby- a couple of gentlemen including a young surgeon the town had. Dark hair and a round face, an apparent friend of the woman who ruined your life, and an expert in new ways of his profession. Chatting about amputation or other polite topics.

You then looked down and pretended to see the deep green cloth.

You dropped the glass in your hand it shattered on the ground. You let out a scream seeing the tablecloth. Conjuring tears and shaking, but careful not to step on the glass shards.

The party stopped, even the stupid piano trinkle music, to look at you.

You put a hand over your mouth and burst into tears. With the anger, the sadness, and the grief you had inside, it wasn’t hard.

“Why…what is the matter?” one woman in a dark dress asked.

“It’s Loki…like Loki’s-green like his-his-” you muttered out.

You then turned to the first man in that little group of men next to the table. Before Will could interfere, you flung yourself at the surgeon. Wrapped your arms around him in a shaking embrace. You recalled his name- what was it again? Oh, yes!

“Lucas! Oh, Lucas! Help me! The trickster god!” you cried.

You held him tight and sobbed into the white shirt of his suit.

“What, uh, is the matter, Miss?” he asked, unsure of what on earth was going on.

“It’s green! The very green like his bed was! The trickster god is going to get me! He’s going to force me to bed him again! Oh, Lucas- please! Protect me! Say you’ll protect me! Anyone, please!” you wailed.

There were a few whispers of pity from the crowd. Lucas was stiff and uncomfortable of being labeled as your protector.

“There there, Miss Y/L/N. Sure I-we will keep you, uh. safe. it’s alright, you’re safe, no need to make a fuss, shhh,” he patted awkwardly, rocking you back and forth as you clung to him.

You peeked out and saw Will look absolutely white and silently angry seeing you embracing the surgeon.

A taste of his own medicine.

You heard Loki’s voice.

‘Hal’s dying of laughter right now over this. Jonathan is cracking a smile despite himself. Stella is telling them all it is not funny and excusing herself to go to a corner and giggle.’ he said.

Lucas took note of Will and you heard a little panic in the surgeon’s voice.

“I, uh, think you should- should get home and- er, drink some tea and get some rest,” Lucas advised, desperately peeling you off of him before you went to Will. Pure terror on the surgeon's round face noticing the awkward situation he was in.

“I will escort my fiancee back home,” he said coldly, glaring at Lucas.

You were escorted sternly by Will, you pretended not to notice the jealous little huff in his voice when he said goodnight at your door.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The second Sunday was the right Sunday to do the next part of your plan- for it was bright and sunny.

You were already early there to help teach Sunday School as promised. You made sure to talk in a sweet voice as you handed out the little snacks for the children forced into stiff, fancy clothes. The older teacher fussed at them to remain still. You practiced looking at a window when they turned to her. The children sat bored and sleepy hearing about Jonah.

You saw one little light reflection out of the window flicker on the floor. Then it settled to normal before any young eyes could see.

For the longest time, you wondered why you had these gifts of moving light around- the flash from the sun, from windows, and its reflections. It wasn’t helpful against Grendel…but it would be helpful for revenge.

Service began, and people filed over the floors, made of clear tiles of white and black, almost like a chessboard. And what a move you had in store if it was successful.

You looked up at the light shining through that brown church so it no longer looked dreary.

The service began as normal. Blessed be God’s people now and forever amen and all that. A few hymns. Scripture readings. Will gave a sermon about King Saul and David. The men who were a part of Grendel’s army sitting in the congregation smiling. More intrigued to hear about swords and violence than patience and gentleness.

A prayer would be the right time. Everyone ducked their heads down to repeat what was in the Book of Common Prayer.

“Lord in your mercy,” began Will.

“Hear our prayer” the congregation intoned, as did you.

You stared at the sunlight streaming down all of the windows.

“Lord, hear us,” began Will.

“Lord, graciously hear us,” replied the congregation.

Taking in a deep breath, you silently urged the sunlight to move.

“God of love,” began Will.

“Hear our prayer,” responded the congregation.

The lights moved from the windows over the heads of all. First one stream of light, then another, and another. Everyone’s heads were down to pray, they didn’t notice.

The lights glowing on all the windows were directed at you like stage lights. You felt warm beneath it. You squinted beneath it, smiling, your magic keeping it at you. But kept repeating the prayer responses from the service.

“Lord, meet us in the silence,” began Will.

“And hear our prayer,” replied the congregation.

When their heads turned, they saw the sunlight was all pointing in your direction and beaming right at you.

There were gasps. You heard a few books of Common Prayer taking a tumble to the floor from people dropping them in shock. They gaped at you- the frightened and superstitious town. For many things happened that scared them…this was harmless.

The service went to a halt as they all looked at you.

“It’s a sign! From God!” one murmured.

“He blessed her!” whispered another.

“A blessed lady!” another agreed.

They lost interest in Will, whose mouth dropped wide, then broke into a smile. He saw a miracle before him.

The congregation turned to you. One woman went up to you and you offered your hand, she kissed it.

“God has blessed you, my dear- it’s a sign from him!” she gasped.

“He has redeemed her…redeemed her from the Trickster God!” agreed another.

They all loved and looked at you favorably, their eyes soft and their faces turning to smiles. You released the magic and suddenly Will had to re-direct everyone’s focus back to him and the service.

But they went up to you, smiling and in awe and admiration and coming in droves to smile in awe of you once it was over.

Now you had to keep it up for a good reputation in this town was as good as an alibi.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next day, you received something in the mail- something completely shocking you almost dropped it, but it was shaking in your hand.

“I do cordially invite you to a celebration of my birthday- held on the date below. Please write back if you will be there. We plan for only a few gifts here and there, some nice beef, and plenty of cake and ice cream. We shall prepare enough seats for the dinner.

Mrs. Seaborne.”

She invited you! She invited you! To her birthday celebration! What was she thinking?! Why? Did she want the new miracle woman in her circle? Was she trying to perhaps re-acquaint herself with you after sticking Will’s penis up her-

You caught yourself, catching your breath. When your parents arrived, they hurried and saw the paper. Their eyes went to you.

“I am only…only…”

Calming down your racing heart, an idea hit you. If you were at her house, you would figure out which departments of science she was contacting. You would know who to send the blackmail to.

You brought up a smile.

“I am only Thrilled! I shall write to her at once and accept! How fun!” you replied.

You would figure out where to send the second letter to ruin Cora there.

“Wonderful! Good to know your silly jealousy of her is done,” agreed your father.

“But there will be gifts- you must go and find something for her,” your mother reminded you.

…and a new idea came upon you. Another act of revenge on her, even worse than sending a few letters. One where none would ever suspect it to be you.

“I shall, mama.”

You knew what you had to do now, you just had to steel yourself and do it.

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