#just a little confused about dream’s sudden clumsiness

[senia-gaudete]

i think touch starved dream should be more pathetic about it. imagine he stumbles on purpose so the corinthian can grab his shoulder and stop him from falling or he just finds the most ridiculous excuses to touch hands (here. hold these books they’re too heavy for me. and dream passes stack of books to the corinthian so he just can brush his fingers against nightmare’s). or or or he’s like oh. seems like i twisted my ankle. you need to carry me to my chambers EVEN tho he’s of the endless and can’t twist an ankle

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Corruption fic - First Preview

It’s me, ya girl, comin’ at ya with a little preview! No active warnings for this one ☺️

"That's it, I'm cuttin' you off for tonight," Husk said sternly, whisking away your unfinished glass of whiskey. You'd been at the bar for only an hour and you've already downed 5 full glasses.

"Noooo, Husk c'mon...I'm fffffiiiinnee," you babbled, trying to push your head from the countertop unsuccessfully.

It's been a few months since you arrived in Hell after an unfortunate accident that ended in your early demise. But being a devout believer, you were so sure that Heaven would be your final destination. How wrong you were. You woke up in the fiery pit confused and scared, your body had transformed into that of a demon; you had become something you had feared for your entire life. When you first heard about the Hazbin Hotel, you nearly jumped at the opportunity for redemption. If there was even the slightest hope of getting out of here, you were going to take it. But your situation was more than troublesome, considering how you led your life up on Earth. So most nights, you could easily be found sitting on a bar stool, trying desperately to drown your sorrows and distract yourself from the reality you'd found yourself in.

What's worse...not everyone here is evil. It was ingrained into you that everyone down here in Hell deserved to be, they had earned this punishment. But getting to know some of the other residents at the hotel, that couldn't have been further from the truth! Was everything you were taught just complete lie?! For Heaven's sake, Charlie, the literal princess of Hell, was the sweetest and kindest being you've ever had the pleasure of meeting! And Vaggie, a former angel, so devout to Charlie and her dream, you've never seen two people more in love. Angel, although a bit eccentric and over the top, cared deeply for his friends and was ready to fight for them at a moment's notice. It was all...not what you expected, and you had a very difficult time coping with everything that you had been thrust into.

"You're shit faced," Husk snapped back. "Look, I know you're havin' a hard time with all this. But drinking away your issues ain't gonna solve any of 'em. You need to sleep this off." He watched you stumble off the bar stool, your one foot catching the other, resulting in a rather pitiful fall onto the carpet. But you couldn't feel anything, the alcohol helped mask the pain you were sure to feel tomorrow. You couldn't help but giggle at your own clumsiness. "Oh, for fuck's sake..." Husk grumbled.

Before you could even attempt to pull yourself off the ground, you saw a pair of black boots approaching you in a rather hurried manner.

"Woah!" the voice exclaimed, "Are you alright? Here, let me help you!" In no time, your limp body went from lying on the lobby floor to being hoisted up and helped back onto the bar stool you fell from. You turned your head to see Lucifer's concerned face staring back at you. "Husk, what happened?"

"She's drunk," the cat demon explained, "I told her she was done drinkin' for the night and she ate shit trying to stand up. I was about to help her back to her room-"

All of a sudden, a shadowy presence started to form behind the bar. A static filled laugh was heard before Alastor had popped up, startling the bar tender. "Husker, my good man!," the radio demon bellowed, "it seems as though I am in need of your assistance."

"Fuck! Why can't you just walk in here like a normal fucking person?" Husk grumbled.

Alastor only responded with a light chuckle before fixing his attention on you. "My, my, what have we here?" Alastor taunted. You could have sworn you heard a low growl coming from Lucifer beside you. "I say, my dear, I've never seen you look worse than you do now. What a pity, all of those teachings really didn't help you in the long run, now did they?"

You felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes at Alastor's cruel words. If you were sober, you would have run the other direction as fast as you could. Alastor had been the other real soul you met who you knew with every fiber of your being belonged in this pit. But considering you had no inhibitions and clearly no chance of getting away, you picked your head up and slammed your fists on the table in righteous anger.

"Ohhh, eat shit youuuu *hic* smiling prick!" You tried to stand up once more, only for your legs to buckle underneath you. Luckily, Lucifer had caught you before your face had met with the carpet again. "I-I don't deserve this! 'Least I'm TRYING to redeem m'self!"

Alastor's malicious grin never faltered. "Oh, and what a fabulous job you're doing! I do wonder how a woman such as yourself has fallen so far from grace."

"Fuck off, radio freak," Lucifer snarled, barring his teeth and his eyes shifting to a deep crimson red and yellow.

“Oh, ho ho! Seems as though I’ve struck a nerve,” Alastor mocked. He made his way around the bar, now towering over you and the fallen angel. “Tell me, your highness, what is your fascination with this lost soul, hmm? I’m so utterly curious as to why you would give her the time of day when all she does is wallow in her self pity and-”

“I. SAID. FUCK. OFF.” the king spat, his eyes now changing into a solid red and his voice deepening to match his threat. Though your vision was hazy, you noticed his horns had bursted out from his temples. Whether it was the alcohol or something else entirely, your face suddenly felt very, very hot. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Despite the immense danger, Alastor could only muster a sly grin. “It’s very rude to ignore my question.”

“I don’t have to do anything for you! Or have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” The way Lucifer spoke sent a shiver down your spine. “The only reason that you’re not a mangled corpse on the ground right now is because of my daughter. So if you want to stay in one piece, I’d walk away right now if I were you…”

The two mens’ faces were just inches away from each other now. Alastor’s eye twitched as he glared back at Lucifer with pure distain. His eyes shifted to you only for a brief moment before standing up straight and smirking to himself.

“I suppose it really is no business of mine as to how you choose to mingle with the guests here,” the radio demon resolved. He turned around to walk away, but not before glancing at you once more over his shoulder. “They’re lost causes anyway. Come along, Husker!”

Lucifer’s demonic traits disappeared as Alastor finally left the parlor. “I hate that man.” He looked at Husk empathetically. “If I could break your arrangement with him, I would. I’m sorry. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” With that, Husk nodded and followed the radio demon down the hall, leaving you and Lucifer alone at the now empty bar.

[fandomxpreferences]

Two Lines, Two Idiots Chapter Nine: I'm Uncomfy When People Do Nice Things

Series Masterlist

Pairing:Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader, Twin!JJ Maybank x reader

TW:pregnancy, mild trauma (?), I think thats it

Summary: Rafe proves just how far he's willing to go to take care of you.

Word Count:2k

A/N: Listen, I did minimal editing on this so just ignore any typos okay

To say you've been stressed is an understatement. At nearly twenty-eight weeks pregnant, the clock is ticking and each second that you don't have a plan worked out feels a little more like you're suffocating. 

Rafe has just gotten you back to a relatively normal state; making sure you get enough sleep and eat to your heart's content. However, despite your flare-up settling down, you haven't been able to take a full breath since the conversation about your living situation a few weeks ago. 

With the babies much more active and your back constantly aching, everything feels too real and it's finally sunk in that this is really happening.

"What's on your mind?"

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden sound of Rafe's voice and your hand comes to rest over your heart. 

"What's not on my mind is the real question. We're only two months out from the babies being born and we don't have anything figured out. We don't have cribs or any necessities; which I mean, why would we? It's not like we have anywhere to set them up." 

Rafe can see your anxiety rising as your breathing picks up and releases a deep sigh. You watch as he sticks his hand out, eyeing him skeptically before taking it. 

"Come on."

He pulls you up with ease, both of his hands settling on your waist to keep you steady. Your clumsiness has reached new heights as your center of gravity continues to shift and pregnancy brain wreaks havoc.

"Where are we going?" You whine, and Rafe just shoots you a look. He stops for a second to allow you to slip on sandals before dragging you out to the Rover.

He buckles you in like usual before rounding the front and climbing into the driver's side and you watch the scenery blur as he heads away from the cut. The drive is silent, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your thigh. 

You frown when he turns down an unfamiliar road, somewhere between the cut and figure eight. Your eyes widen as you take in all the large homes, awestruck at the beauty of the quaint neighborhood. 

He pulls into a driveway and parks, taking a deep breath before looking over at you. The confusion is evident on your feature; your brows scrunched, and a quizzical look in your eyes. 

"Where are we?"

Again, Rafe doesn't answer. Instead, he gets out and opens your door to help you down. 

"Rafe, this is someone's house. We can't just trespass." You urge, and he remains stoic. 

You drag your feet as he leads you up the steps to the door, completely at a loss. It's a beautiful beachfront house with a screened-in sun room and at least two stories. It's the type of house you grew up dreaming about.

The type of house that would be perfect for raising a family, large but cozy with big windows for sticky little hands to smudge up.

Your stomach does a flip when he pulls out a set of keys and turns to face you. 

"You know that I'll always take care of you, right?" He asks, and you nod slowly. 

"And you trust me when I say that I'll always find a way to provide and you'll never have to worry again?" 

You nod once more, blinking quickly as tears sting your waterline. He places the key in the knob and opens the door, using the hand placed on your lower back to nudge you inside.

Your feet move on their own accord, and you step past the threshold. 

"Welcome home, baby."

You whip around to face him, shocked despite your suspicions. 

"What do you mean? Did you rent this place?" You breathe, and he chuckles. 

"Nope. It's all ours. Closed escrow last week. I've just been trying to work out some last-second details."

Your mouth hangs open as you stare up at him. 

"No you fucking didn't. Rafe Cameron, you did not buy a house. Certainly not this house. It's huge!" 

He laughs at your genuine bafflement and nods his head toward the open space. 

"Go take a look around. There are five bedrooms and four baths."

You stay cemented in place, trying to process the new information. He takes it upon himself to lead you around as you follow behind him like a lost puppy. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when you see the kitchen that's half the size of the house you grew up in, and he laughs. 

"If you think this is nice, wait till you see the pool and private beach access. It's our own little slice of heaven."

His heart sinks when he sees a tear fall, and he's eye level in an instant. 

"What's wrong? Do you not like it?" He asks in a panic as his thumbs try to wipe away the rapidly falling tears.

"It's beautiful Rafe. It's just… I can't leave JJ. I can't sleep knowing I'm here while he's still slumming it." You cry, and Rafe breathes a sigh of relief.

"Come on." 

He takes you outside, surpassing the aforementioned pool to stop in front of a second building. 

"It's a guest house. I figured you'd have an issue with leaving JJ, so I thought maybe he could live here. Might help to have an extra set of hands." He shrugs, and you freeze. 

An uneasy feeling washes over you, and your first instinct is to run for the hills. By all means, what Rafe has done is thoughtful and mind-blowing. However, you struggle with him buying you little things, and he's handing you the keys to a house? Not just you, but your brother as well?

Your mind can't quite process and Rafe notices immediately when your hands start ringing together and your pupils dilate. 

"Hey, stay with me. I know it's a lot, but I couldn't stand to see you so stressed out. I thought it could be a fun little project with Sarah. You know, decorating and picking out furniture." He scrambles, and you finally look up at him. 

"Why?" You whisper, and Rafe truly doesn't understand how you could think he wouldn't pluck the sun out of the sky and hand it to you if he was able. 

"Because I love you, and you deserve nice things. I plan on giving you those nice things, whether you like it or not."

Your lip quivers as you look around at the vast property and you shake your head. 

"But a house?"

Rafe's large hands envelop yours and lay them against his chest; a grounding tactic he's learned over the past few months to help with your anxiety. 

"Baby, I would buy the whole town if it would make you smile. So yes, I'm giving you a house so we can turn it into a home."

You pull him down by his neck, pressing a salty kiss to his lips before pressing your forehead to his. 

"Thank you."

Rafe kisses the tip of your nose and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as he can with your large belly. 

"Anything for you."

The two of you stay like that for a second before you take a deep breath and rub your stomach. Your eyes light up suddenly and Rafe smiles at the way you're practically buzzing. 

"Can we show JJ?"

He nods with a chuckle and leads you back to the truck. 

"Of course."

The whole drive back you're shifting in your seat, nerves and eagerness oozing out of your pores. You practically leap from the seat despite Rafe's protest as soon as he parks, and race inside to the best of your ability. 

"JJ, come with me." You sing, and your brother looks at you like you've lost your mind before glancing at Rafe. 

"Everyone can come if they want." Rafe offers, and the rest of the group shares a look before nodding. 

You take JJ in the truck with you while the rest follow in the Twinkie, ignoring his line of interrogation the same way Rafe had with you. 

"Where the fuck are we?" JJ questions the second you pull into the driveway, and everyone spills out of the Twinkie. 

"What is this?" Sarah asks, and you just give Rafe a knowing smile. 

They frown as the two of you walk to the door, hanging back in case someone comes out with a shotgun. Their frowns turn to shock when Rafe unlocks the deadbolt and nods his head to signal everyone to enter. 

They do so slowly, arms crossed as they look around the same way you did. 

"Welcome to our not-so-humble abode!"

As soon as the words leave your mouth, everyone gasps and turns to face you. 

"What?!" JB shouts, and you nod while laughing. 

"Rafe bought the most expensive surprise ever." You say, and Sarah's most drops open. 

"You didn't let me help?" She scolds with a slap to Rafe's arm and he back away with a mock scowl. 

"Relax, I already told Y/N that the two of you have free reign to decorate however you want."

This seems to improve her mood as she squeals and claps happily. 

You turn to face JJ, and he gives you a half grin. It doesn't meet his eyes, and you can tell that he's trying to be happy for you despite his qualms. 

"You wanna see outside?" You murmur, and he tries to appear excited. Rafe motions for the rest to hang back, aware that you need a moment alone. 

JJ lets out a low whistle when he sees the pool and the beach just a few yards away. 

"This is insane. I'm happy for you." 

He pulls you into a hug and you squeeze him a little tighter. 

"Do you like it?" You press, and he cocks his head to the side. 

"Shit, what's not to like? You got the happy ending you deserve." 

You hum in agreement before motioning toward the guest house. 

"Well, it's a good thing since you'll be living here too. If you want to, that is."

The speed at which JJ's head whips to look at you is almost concerning and he studies your face for any signs of humor. 

"Are you crazy? I can't impose like that!" He exclaims, his arms moving wildly as he gesticulates to emphasize his point. 

"How do you even know the word impose? Anyway, you wouldn't be. You'd be living in the guest house. It's all yours." You explain, and for the first time in your life, JJ is at a loss for words. 

"Is Rafe okay with that?" He finally asks and you nod. 

"It was his idea. The babies are going to want Uncle JJ around, and I guess I wouldn't hate having you here either." You tease, bumping his shoulder with your own. 

You're interrupted by loud chatter as the rest of the pogues walk out, John B already talking about the surf break and house parties. 

"What's going on over here?" Kie smiles, and you shrug casually. 

"Just talking about how nice it's gonna be to have JJ living in the guest house."

Rafe pulls your back into his chest, his hands sneaking around your front to rest on your belly. Everyone looks around, completely baffled at the new information. JJ is still staring at the guest house, unsure how to react. 

It's nice; bigger than the shit hole the two of you grew up in. He's barely ever had a room to himself, let alone an entire place. Living in his sister and Rafe Cameron's fancy guest house isn't exactly how he saw his life unfolding, but he isn't mad at it. 

His thoughts are interrupted by John B and Pope slapping him on the back. 

"You good?" Pope frowns, and JJ blows out a long breath. 

"Yeah, man. Just surprised." 

John B nods in understanding before he breaks out into a smile. 

"You know this means we're crashing here all the time right? Why hang out at the chateau when we can chill at a five-star resort?" He jokes, and JJ smiles brightly. 

"Shit yeah, man. We're practically kooks now."

Rafe interrupts with a loud scoff and shakes his head. 

"I wouldn't go that far, Maybank. Besides, being a kook isn't all it's cracked up to be."

JJ slips off his boots and jumps in the pool before surfacing to stare down your boyfriend. 

"I don't know, bro. This seems pretty fucking awesome."

There's a moment of silence before Rafe laughs loudly. 

"Yeah, it's not too shabby."

You just stand and watch all the people you love most in your backyard, trying to commit the image to memory. 

"We need to start shopping, like, yesterday." Sarah suddenly says, and you wrap an arm around her shoulder. 

"We can look online tonight." You assure her, and she kisses your cheek before Rafe playfully pushes her away. Her lips are replaced with his and he nuzzles into your neck. 

"Are you happy, baby?"

You shift to look at him, and his heart melts at the way you're glowing. 

"The happiest." You sigh, and Rafe kisses your throat softly. 

"Then so am I."

@i-love-rafe @itsmytimetoodream @brynley-a-xoxo @whore4drew @houseofperfecttaste @everythingmarveltopgun @f4ll-for-you @athenabarnes @antagonize-me-motherfucker @writtenwordslover @madsnxo @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @starrystarkey93 @keylin1730 @fulla02 @loving-and-dreaming @evening-starlight @ibleedcalories @badasspizzalover @veescorneroftheworld @pinkpantheris @brooklynscherry-z @starkeylover @sebastiansstanswhore @lothiriel9 @katzarantos @gillybear17 @genius2050

[nhularin]

FAVORITE CRIME

PAIRING theater kid! sunoo x theater kid! reader GENRE highschool AU, theater partner to friends to strangers, angst no comfort WARNINGS insecurities, this is probably the worst fic ive ever written im sorry, barely proofread WC 1.3k series masterlist

January 25th, 2008

D-29

"set, action!"

" i am afraid" you whispered loudly enough, face mirroring that of your character.

"it's i am NOT afraid, not im afraid. IN POSITION!" the obnoxious voice of Kim Gyuvin echoed through the empty theater hall

as the bright stage lights illuminated the auditorium, the air buzzed with anticipation and exhaustion. It was the third rehearsal of your schools rendition of "highschool musical," and the leads, sunoo as troy (which was a strange combination if you had to admit) and you, although a complete newbie in acting, as gabriella. it was not long till your work of art was about to take the stage.

you looked at your partner, eyes filled with guilt as you sighed "im sorry, not my day" he only laughed and gave you a sympathetic smile "its okay, gyuvin is just being an ass today because mr Kim didnt like his freestyle presentation of macbeth" sunoo shook his head " he rapped, yn, rapped the damn play out" you both giggled, finding fondness in the silly actions of your director (you honestly dont know why he was chosen"

"Hey! silence! and get into position!" the boy of your talk yelled, looking at them with his best stern face but ended up looking like a butthurt child. gyuvin pointed at sunghoon and heeseung, who both wore a bored expression on their face "rat 01 and rat 02, lighting!"

D-13

throughout the entire rehearsal process, sunno had been nothing short of a perfect scene partner. he was kind, supportive, funny and always there to lend a helping hand to your clumsy self. you couldn't help but feel , call yourself delusional, a deep connection growing between you two that went beyond the boundaries of the childish, superficial relationship of troy and gabriella.

He would leave post-it notes on your locker, filled with kind words and reminders of your talent. yoy would find them every morning, a small burst of positivity to start your day.

but it didn't stop there. the golden boy would often leave juice bottles on your desk, knowing how important it was for yoy to take care of your voice. sunoo would write silly little notes in class as well, reminding you to stay hydrated and take breaks when needed.

D-10

their rehearsals were filled with laughter and shared dreams. sunoos enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself falling foolishly deeper into the role of gabriella with each passing day. you admired his dedication and his ability to bring out the best in the team's performance.

as the days turned into weeks, you began to feel a connection with sunoo that went beyond your characters and your delusions. sparks flew, an unspoken understanding that seemed to blossom between you. your interactions became more personal, your conversations filled with warmth and vulnerability.

one evening, after a particularly exhausting rehearsal, he had walked you home despite his route from school being in the opposite direction, your footsteps echoing through the quiet streets. you talked and talked, about the magic of theater and the scary future after highschool. it was in that moment, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, that you felt your heart skip a beat.

D-5

But as the premiere of the play approached, something changed. Sunoo's smiles became fewer and further between, his once cheerful demeanor replaced with a distant look in his eyes. Confused and hurt, you tried to reach out, to understand what was happening, but he began to withdraw

He would avoid eye contact, brush off your attempts at conversation, and disappear without explanation. your heart ached with every rejection, the pain of his sudden indifference growing with each passing day.

D-1

On the night of the performance, your heart sank as you noticed sunoos cold stare from across the stage. the chemistry you had worked so hard to build was replaced by an icy tension backstage. every line, every touch felt forced, lacking the authenticity you had once shared.

After the final bow, you searched for answers, desperate to understand what had caused this sudden change. But Sunoo continued to ignore you in the hallways, as if you were a mere stranger he had never met. The reader's heart shattered into a million pieces, unable to comprehend the pain of being cast aside so abruptly.

- D-13

days turned into weeks, and your anguish only deepened. sunoos silence was deafening, and the unanswered questions tormented you every waking moment. was it all just an act? had your connection been nothing more than an illusion?

one evening, as you sat alone in your house, your parents nowhere to be seen, contemplating the shattered remnants of what once was, you spotted a note tucked beneath your door. It was a familiar sight - a post it note, just like the ones the boy who unknowingly broke your heart used to send you. with trembling hands, you unfolded the note and read the words that lay before you: "I'm sorry."

confusion mingled with hope as your heart skipped a beat. without hesitation, you rushed outside to your front yard, determined to uncover the truth of his silence. as you rounded the corner to your treehouse, there he stood, anxiously awaiting your arrival. the look in his eyes was something you have never seen before, the cheerful boy from school now looked disheveled and broken and you could see the weight of regret pressing upon his shoulders.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," sunoo exclaimed, his voice filled with remorse and something you couldn't decipher. "I thought it would be easier this way, but I was wrong. at first, i only befriended you in sake of the play, but you kept plaguing my mind at every waking hour. so i tried to distance myself to focus on our performance."

tears welled up in your eyes as the truth washed over you. sunoos actions were not born out of cruelty, but rather out of fear and self preservation. in his attempt to protect his own heart, he unknowingly shattered yours.

with a trembling voice, you spoke up "i get that" your voice cracked "i really do, but you could've talked to me before completely ignoring my presence. you weren't the only main character in this play. and do you know what's the most important thing in theater? communication. please dont push me away, youre important to me"

in that moment, the barriers between you began to crumble. walls of misunderstanding and pain came crashing down, revealing the raw vulnerability that lay beneath. And just like the tragic love story they had once portrayed on stage, Sunoo and you found yourselves in front of each other, heart more broken than the other's

"im sorry, yn"

and he left, with your heart in his hand

PERM TAGLIST @misokei @avocarua @sngvhs @essmarye @haechansbbg

SERIES' MASTERLIST @flwerfield @hyhees @mrchweeee @j1nniee @mikaluvsyouu @delulu4-life @mora134340 @beomsbeanie @leep0ems @cIphantom-hive @yla-aira @filmofhybe @nishik1 @iea-tsand

[save-the-villainous-cat]

A simply little request 😁, Hero hears Villain whimper and has a little "Oh shit" moment, in a horny way, not a "feels bad about it" way, as Spicy as you'd like, I just adore sub Villain :) -💌

The whimper made the hero’s pupils expand.

With their one hand on the villain’s collarbone and the other disinfecting the cut on their torso, they should’ve been occupied with work, having something to concentrate on that demanded undivided attention. Though they were occupied, their body reacted with an embarrassing flush.

What the hell was happening to them?

For over a month now, they were a lazy copy of themselves: messy and clumsy, confused and tired. Hell, they couldn’t even sleep properly and when they did, their dreams were flooded with unholy scenarios.

“Relax, it’ll be fine.” They put more pressure on the villain’s collarbone to push them into the ground, making the villain grind their teeth and dig their fingernails into the hero’s wrist.

“Damn you,” they moaned. When they threw their head back, the hero was starting to lose focus again. Unacceptable.

“Don’t move. I need to clean this wound or it’ll get infected,” the hero threatened as they squeezed the villain’s shoulder. They swallowed, feeling the sweat on their brow already.

They contemplated if they should kill the villain here and now. They were vulnerable, helpless, completely depended on the hero and maybe if the villain was out of the picture, everything would slip back into normality. Maybe the hero’s tormented mind would find some peace to sink into.

Of course that was a stupid idea. The villain was an asshole. Once, only once the hero had trusted them. They’d been on a mission together and at the end, the villain had stabbed them in the back. Metaphorically.

But even though the hero couldn’t trust them and even though they were annoying — those weren’t reasons to kill them.

“Your hands are so fucking cold,” the villain hissed.

“I think that’s the tiniest of your problems right now,” the hero answered. Their voice wasn’t any warmer.

“Fucking smart ass.” The hero’s eyes jumped to their enemy’s. Sometimes they imagined to be able to see behind that curtain of foul language. It was inexplicable to them but they wanted to be the person to understand the villain. They wanted to be the one who understood the pain and the grief, what essentially had made them to be like this.

“Be nice,” they warned. Once again, their eyes landed on the villain’s. In their irises were more colours than the hero had ever noticed and when they stared into the air, the whites decorated with prominent red lines, the hero saw similarities to scared animals in them.

That comparison wasn’t easy to digest. The hero knew the villain was a person, too but seeing that they were a person was something different.

“What makes you the monster?” the hero whispered. The sudden question surprised the villain, so much in fact, that their grip on the hero tightened.

“What makes you the hero?” the villain asked right back. They gestured with their head at the hero cleaning their wound. “This?”

“Maybe it’s the decision to spare you.” That answer made the villain chuckle but it didn’t last long. They pressed their eyes shut as the pain hit them.

“I’m the monster because you told me I am. You are the reason why. You are what made me like this,” they said. The hero swallowed. No.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” they said, grabbing the bandages. “Let me pull some strings and I can arrange a fresh start for you.”

Again, the villain smiled and stupidly enough, the hero liked that. They wanted to help them, wanted them to themselves. To be the person that understood and accepted them.

“Oh, silly hero. You can’t help yourself, can you?” the villain asked. “Don’t you understand? It would destroy you to save me. Tell me, what are you without your monster?”

“I wouldn’t be without you, it just would be a different relationship.” They bit down into the flesh of their cheeks until they tasted metal.

“We don’t really want that, do we? Admit it, you like what we are. You like what we have. You love to push me into a wall and put handcuffs around my wrists. You love this. You want this.” There was something dangerous about the way they looked at the hero.

Something the hero couldn’t place.

Blushing and being unable to answer, the hero dipped some alcohol on the villain’s wound.

It made their enemy whimper again.

[undiscovered-element]

Chapter four- Masks and scars

Warning: the last chapter was short and I wasn't very inspired, but THIS ONE, if you like the supernatural side of Vessel and his relationship with iii you will love this chapter. I really tried and it's the biggest one so far, please let me know if you like it🖤

After the dream you couldn't sleep anymore, not that that kind of thing had called your attention but you were worried about your problems. So after a few minutes you just put on an overcoat and went downstairs patting the back of your head feeling the hangover from last night. Your eyes ran around the living room and the couch looking for the figure of your dream, maybe it was all an imagination and he didn't even exist, but the noise of glasses in the kitchen said that you weren't crazy enough to dream about all that yet.

You walked in light steps to the other room and leaned on the counter attentive to Vessel's movements, he seemed to be trying to manipulate the coffee pot but he was doing it in the most wrong way possible, starting with the fact that he put sugar in the place of coffee, and salt in place of sugar. You were even finding the situation a little funny since it wasn't often that you saw such a clumsy stranger with a simple coffee, you was really willing to help the poor man.

-If it continues like this, our breakfast will be our lunch. -your voice was calm, careful, after all in your mind everything was very confused but you knew that after a whole night he didn't hurt you and that was good.

-I haven't used this for a long time, my friends and I hardly eat much in the morning.

-Well, and these friends are not worried? After all, you're in the house of someone for over twelve hours

-If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already, wouldn't you? - You laughed with the comment, thinking about what chance you would have to do something like that since the opposite would be much more possible.

-You know, I dreamed about you, in fact it was more of a nightmare.

- Tell me I'm curious.

-You were covered in wounds on your back, they were scars but some were open and I could feel your pain as I saw you in the bathroom mirror, but you told me they were bar fights

Vessel pauses silently for a moment and one of the cups in his hand comes into contact with the floor causing several pieces of glass to scatter around the place, some end up hitting both of them in the feet making small cuts but he was still motionless and you pay attention to the man in front of you.

"I didn't say anything about myself to her, I didn't show her that, I wouldn't be such a fool to show so much of myself, I just didn't do that, it would be so wrong"

-Sorry-was the only word out of his mouth you could hear about that, however it wasn't about the cup but you wouldn't understand if he explained so Vessel just bent down and took a few pieces in his hand to scoop up the mess.

Your eyes traveled over his movements until he noticed something fall out of his pocket and a sudden movement on his part to pick it up again, it looked like a paper or a photo. You ran your eyes through the picture frames in the room until you realized that it looked familiar and it wasn't a coincidence, it was something you treasured very well. Without saying anything, you go to the room, in a specific drawer and a yellowish envelope at the bottom of it, just as you suspected the paper was not there, so it was in fact in his hands. You go back to the kitchen this time in a hurry and anger and quickly approach him putting your hands in your pants pockets.

-Where is it?

-I didn't understand.

-The photo! Where is it? -You pull the first thing you touch knowing what it was about, he just raised his hands as if he was being searched.

-This is uncomfortable, if you can get your hands out of there...

-Why? What did you want with that? How did you find it, after all, how do you know so much about here?! I didn't ask before because I was clearly drunk but you even knew my address!

-It's not the time for me to tell you anything, I'm sorry - his voice cracking, he knew that feeling.

-You first get in my car, force me to bring you here, say you know where I live, flirt with me, mention things like sacrifice and don't want to explain to me? And you still take the only photo I have of my father on the last day of his life? Are you sick by any chance?

-I think you better measure your words with me, I'm not crazy like you're making it seem.

-So who are you? Why don't you say who you are?

-I can't, I can't now.

-You must be one of Joe's sick friends, right? He must have set it all up as a joke, that's enough, take off your mask

You advance on him fighting his arms away from the object, he clearly didn't put strength, it looked like he didn't even want to touch you and that was irritating you even more. You finally put your hands on his face pulling the object that was covering him at once, but you dropped it at the same moment moving away, your conclusions were wrong, more wrong than possible, to begin with... he wasn't human.

The eyes of a fire yellow tone, but also reddish like blood, dark sockets, black as night, but it wasn't the color that made your legs give way to the ground, but the number of pairs of eyes on his face. They all looked at you in a ghastly countenance, the skin on his face was deeply scarred and his hair covered a little of the two pairs of eyes above the others. A cry of pain came out of the man's lips that made you move away even more covering your mouth not knowing what to show in front of that, now yes, now yes you were dreaming.

You threw the photo to the floor as you backed away and ran into your room slamming the door and falling back against it, stifling your sobs and fear against your hand. The thought that he was just a stranger in her house changed to "not human". You always maintained a skeptical posture with the supernatural, your mother told you about your father, said that man lived exploring the other side of this world, the spiritual world, but that in one of his discoveries something possessed him in such a way that he was in a coma. Doctors said it was a rare case of brain death, and your mother never forgot the last words he said before he never woke up, it was something like "Sleep arrives for some like rest and for others like punishment". However, no one took him seriously in his delusions, but otherwise you never believed in the spirit world in which such creatures could exist.

Your thoughts spun restlessly as tears coated the fabric on your body, you prayed that the sight had been a nightmare, you began to struggle with the idea of unlocking the door and facing Vessel, something in you told you not to be afraid. But you on the other hand seem to have hurt him after hearing the deep scream that came out of his lips. Footsteps approached the stairs, you grabbed your legs praying louder thinking that it was just a haunting, the steps slowly approached your room but you were already grateful that it was daylight, the light in your room made everything a little less gloomy, already the sun that reflected in Vessel's six eyes made you shiver. A familiar voice calls out your name, it was Joe, or at least it should be.

-Are you still sleeping? The kitchen is a mess and the door was open. Did you forget to lock it overnight?

-I must have fallen asleep with it open, Joe I'm going to the bathroom to take a shower if you can wait for me in the room I appreciate it -You tried your best to disguise the fear in your words, what if it wasn't really Joe?

Seconds later whoever it was had already come down and you cautiously unlocked the bedroom door. The hallway of your house was dimly lit even during the day, the lightbulb had burned out and you hadn't provided a new one, so the path to the bathroom still carried a sense of fear, as if at any moment something would emerge from the shadows. When you can turn on the light in the bathroom you find a new piece of paper under the sink, there was a dried rose and vines wrapped around the note, to read the words you had to push away the thorns, your attempt obviously resulted in your blood staining the note , however you managed to remove the plant.

"You must be crazy if you think that I will give up the game"

˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖🖇

The sun had burned his pupils, he was a creature of the night, Sleep made him a creature of the night so why the hell was he walking around in daylight?

-Where were you? -that extremely familiar and sweet voice enters Vessel's ears and calms him down for a second.

-iii...

-Hmm? We've been looking for you all night, iv and ii are desperate and Sleep is furious, we feel unbearable pain for hours without you, what are you doing Ves?

-I'm sorry, I didn't want you to be punished because of me.

-FUCKING ANSWER ME! -iii grabs Vessel's clothes pulling him closer grabbing his shoulders, desperately seeking comfort, an answer, something, his skin was burning with agony and in these moments Vessel knew he was the only one who could calm him down.

-I love you, I wasn't going to abandon you, I'm sorry for that...-his words were interrupted by a desperate kiss, iii was still looking for contact with Vessel to calm his soul and this was their relationship, they knew a lot good of that. The need for carnal desire Ves met with the devotion and submission that iii offered, and a guilty feeling rose in his stomach as iii's hands brought him closer.

The bond that was created between the two from the moment they became vessels of Sleep, went beyond desire, Vessel always reached out to iii when he felt he was too tired or unsure. Realizing his partner so needy and worried hurt, but it would hurt more when he told about his days being numbered as a vessel and that very soon he would be replaced, but how to make iii and the others understand that this is the reason he ran away to seek human pleasures like the love of a woman. It would seem a silly excuse, but it was true, but once again he decides to fall into iii's arms, he wouldn't know how long he could enjoy this feeling of care, and after the disastrous event, all he needed most was that, comfort.

[emberleesblog]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Week 2 baby!!

I've got a big Amphibia story I'm currently formatting into some coherent, and wanted to share a lil snippet with you that'll appear further down the line :)

Enjoy!

Whatever she was about to say was halted by the sudden vibrating coming from her bag. Confused, Sasha set aside her drink with a murmured apology, trying to fight down an anxious blush as she began to dig around for the offending object, praying it wasn't another vibrator one of the girls had slipped into her purse as a gag. Thankfully, the glow of her phone shone amongst the junk piled around it, demanding to be acknowledged.

"It's all good. Or should I be worried that this is your way of escaping such a horrible date?" Bethany teased, chuckling as her blush grew rosier.

"N-no! Really! Tonight has been....eventful but I have enjoyed it!" Sasha stammered, nearly knocking over her drink as she tried desperately to catch a hold of her dancing phone, "and it's probably something to do with my job anyway, not my emergency- oh it is her."

Much to her surprise, Anne's happy face was lighting up her screen, the little video icon flashing obnoxiously. Dumbfounded Sasha could only stare at it. Why was she calling? She knew she was on a date tonight, right? Or did she forget to tell her? Was she okay? Was Marcy okay? Should she answer?

"You gonna get that?" Bethany asked, chewing on the end of her straw as she watched Sasha hesitate.

In another life time, maybe she would have, but tonight Sasha was being more present to those around her and learning from her mistakes.

"No," she said as she declined the call, setting the phone down on the table, "whatever she wants to talk about can wait. Now you were saying something about the mining industry?"

It seemed like she had made the right choice. For the rest of the dinner, Bethany was more open and calmer, and Sasha found herself having an in-depth conversation with her about coral reefs and their importance without the need to feel defensive, a first since Marcy had opened her eyes to the subject during high school. It was rare that she met someone who liked to infodump as much as her best friend did really, and not bore her to tears. It helped that there was a certain light in her eyes that drew Sasha in, and her smile was nearly the perfect blend of flirtatious and challenging that set her blood boiling.

But it couldn't rival Marcy's.

Memories of that little impish smirk filtered across her brain unwantws as Bethany talked, dragging her away from their date and to a time when she and Marcy had snuck out of Boonchuy family dinner to share a joint. It was one of their guilty pleasures, brought out by social anxiety and alcohol, and they'd bond over shared illusions that made Amphibia seem like a pipe dream.

Snow was just beginning to fall, and they were hastily passing the joint between each other, giggling madly at how clumsy their freezing fingers were and that they could be caught at any minute by a furious Anne.

"Hey, hey, wanna do something stupid?"

Let me know what you think :) see you next week with another WIP

[otterpopchan]

Strange what desire makes foolish people do ~ Kim Mingyu

Warnings: none

Word count: 438

Author’s note: this is my first time writing fluff so i’m sorry if it’s not good akfjskfjh i kinda wrote this while thinking of @berrryshortcake (might make a nsfw ver 👀) i wanted to make a small drabble to please don’t expect as masterpiece lol. also this isn’t proof read or anything like that so pls lmk if there is any mistakes ! i also tried to make this as gender neutral as possible ! <3

   You had always told yourself you would never fall in love. You always thought it was so stupid, well at least that’s what you used to think. Until you met Kim Mingyu. Mingyu was the man of everyone’s dreams; he was tall, handsome, strong, funny, and he could cook. What more could you want in a guy ?

    Meeting him was a complete accident. Little to your knowledge, Mingyu can be very clumsy. You were in a small bookstore walking to the checkout line when all of a sudden you ran into someone (more like someone ran into you). You feel like you just ran into a brick wall but before you could look up someone speaks up, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t even paying attention in front of me” you meet eyes with the handsomest person you think you have ever met. He was wearing glasses, black dress pants, and a white button up shirt where the arms of the shirt are scrunched up to his elbows. He honestly looked like a Michelangelo sculpture.

“H-hello? Are you okay?” he asks, concerned by the fact that you were just staring at him, not saying anything or not even taking in a breath.

“Um yeah I’m okay, sorry I uh- don’t have my glasses on so I couldn’t really see” you push out some lame excuse, hoping he doesn’t think much of it.

“You’re wearing glasses though?” he tilts his head to the side, looking at you up and down, now confused beyond anything.

You mentally panic as you scramble to find the words to say, “These are fake! I left my actual ones at home” you flash him an awkward smile as you giggle nervously.

“Well hopefully you wear your real glasses next time I run into you, I’m Mingyu by the way” Mingyu winks at you and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I’m (y/n), it’s nice to meet you” you give him a genuine smile, mentally slapping yourself at how awkward you were being.

As mingyu was about to ask for your number you speed walk away from him, leaving him confused once again and also leaving him starstruck. He thought you were the cutest person ever. The way you got so flustered just by looking at him gave him such a desire to make you his. He turned in the direction you zoomed off to, only to not see you in the store anymore. He panics and walks around the store, in hopes of seeing you again. Mingyu knew that finding you again would be damn near impossible but it’s strange what desire will make foolish people do.

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

What about a sick fic with Peter 3 where Gwen takes care of him? Like he shows up at her window for a visit and she notices how sick he is or something?

Gwen should have realized something was off within the first few minutes of Peter’s arrival—possibly within the first few moments. The faint tapping of his fingers against her window didn’t hold its usual chipper beat and his posture was more than a little off. He was slumped against the sill, rather than perched in preparation to climb on in. Regardless, he made an effort to perk himself up a little when she smiled at him; she couldn’t make out his expression behind the mask, of course, but his head tilted like he was smiling too.

“Why, if it isn’t Peter Pan,” she teased as she unlocked the window, “skulking around outside my window not at all creepily, ready to whisk me away on some fantastical adventure or another that nobody else would believe. Am I right?”

She hoped so. The takeout he had gotten for their last dinner date wasn’t anything to write home about but the view, tucked into his side under a blanket on a rooftop, looking down on the lights below—that was magical. She could almost pretend it had been England, her dream destination.

Peter’s palm was on the pane suddenly, preventing her from opening it any further. “Sorry. Not this time, Gwendy Darling,” he chuckled faintly, halfheartedly. “I thought tonight we could…y’know, still see each other but j-just like this, on opposite sides of the window. Like a…personal bubble thing.”

Gwen snorted, confused and a little incredulous. “I didn’t think personal bubbles were a thing in your book after we—” Peter cut her off then, though unintentionally, a breakout of barking coughs abruptly knocking his head against the window frame. He didn’t bother to lift it, letting out an exhausted, rattling sigh.

“Nngh…s-so, uh…” He sniffled thickly, stifled another cough. “…Y’know how spiders are expert bug catchers?”

Gwen’s lips thinned in realization. “Mhmm. Sounds like you caught a big one.” She had two options now: chide him for swinging through the city in this condition and probably get some ridiculously heroic, self-sacrificial (heart-of-gold, dorky, adorable) comment in return or skip straight to what needed to be done. She went for the latter, pushing the window all the way open. Peter reeled back from the sudden movement, slightly disoriented.

“What’re you…? Hang on, I don’t wanna get you sick too, I-I only came to say hi real quick and then…”

“Look, Mom’s out to dinner with some friends, I’ve got the place to myself and you already came this far. What kind of concerned citizen would I be if I left a sad, sick Spider-Man out in the cold?”

Though her quip was lighthearted, the intensity of his shivering and the buckling of his legs as she helped him inside honestly were concerning. Unwilling to contaminate her bed, he swerved precariously to collapse into her newly acquired beanbag chair.

Curling into a loose fetal position, he shuddered, tensed and hurriedly ducked his head down with a violent “Hhh-kchu!” Gwen flinched a little at the volume of his sneeze, even muffled through the mask, and then offered a rueful smile when she heard him groan out a wet curse.

“Let me guess. Snot all over your lenses?”

“I hate everything.” Clumsy fingers pried at his mask; it took a few tries for him to finally wrangle it off. The face underneath was disconcertingly pasty, excepting his pink, watery nose and swollen eyes. As soon as Gwen crouched, cupping his cheek for an approximation of a temperature, they fluttered closed; he couldn’t help but nuzzle wearily into her touch, pressing a chapped kiss to her palm.

“Missed you…” he rasped, barely audible.

Even now he managed to make her heart melt. “Missed you too, sweetheart,” she murmured. “You’re pretty chilly, aren’t you? Let me get you a blanket.”

“Huh? No—No, wait, d-don’t—don’t leave…”

“I’ll only be, like, six feet away, Pete. It’ll take two seconds.”

The glassy haze made his pleading eyes even more puppy-like as he pried them back open with a whine. “That’s two whole long, long, long seconds without you, though. Want you a lot more than the blanket…We can…We can huddle for warmth. T-That’s always romantic in the movies, huh? Right?”

“I could’ve made it across the room and back by now,” she pointed out wryly even as she acquiesced, situating herself on the beanbag beside him so he could rest his aching head in her lap. As soon as she started running her hand through his tousled fringe, he melted entirely. Perhaps he was more a cat than an arachnid at heart.

Then again, she mused fondly as she heard and felt his low, contented rumbling, spiders could purr too.

[disasterofastory]

Loneliness (Harald x Reader)

Loneliness Harald x Reader Warnings: age difference. smut

After so many heartbreaks King Harald feels lonely, and he desires your company.

When you first met with the king, he was just an Earl with big dreams and unfulfilled love. The ink on his face was freshly made, and his hair was longer with neat braids and decorations. He was loud and ambitious, and his name was well known among the Vikings. Little boys wanted to be like him, and young women competed for his attention.

You tried to squeeze yourself among the drunk men with the still-warm loaves of bread in your hands. You stopped counting how many times they stepped on your leg till you reached the long table full of drinks and food. You murmured something under your nose heatedly when somebody pushed you without looking back. Your eyes followed the big man till he disappeared in the crowd while you placed down the basket on the table. You were so focused on the rude stranger that you didn't notice the brothers in front of you, who just smiled at your angry face. You were barely thirteen. Your expression was as threatening for them as a mouse in a barn. “Hey girl!” You almost gave yourself whiplash as you turn around to the way of the deep voice. Harald leaned over the table to hear you better. His hair fell over his shoulder, and his eyes were hazy from the alcohol he drank. “What are you doing here?” He asked when your widened eyes find his sitting figure before you. “It’s too late for a little girl like you.” His voice was mocking, but despite the racket around the Great Hall, you heard the worry in his words. “My mother sent me with fresh bread,” you answered, raising the basket for proof. Your quiet voice almost got lost in the noise around you. You needed to step closer to the table before somebody pumped into you again. “Take this,” he said, reaching out to you with an apple in his hand. “And go home.” “Thank you,” you replied, accepting the red fruit in hurry. You knew Harald as a trickster, and you didn’t want to be at the end of his plays. You grabbed the apple from his fingers and turned around to escape from the Hall.

This was the first time you talked to Harald but not the last. As you grew, your mother gave you more and more responsibility and tasks around the bakery.

The basket in your hand is warm and heavy because of the freshly baked goods. Their scent tickles your nose, and your stomach growls from hunger. The loud noise heats up your face, and you are grateful for the Hall’s emptiness. You hear noises in the background, but you are the only one in the Hall. The room is still cold due to the lack of fire, but a part of the long table is ready for the king's breakfast. The only thing that is missing is the small basket in your hands. You place it down among the other things, uncovering it before you turn around to continue your day. “Y/N,” you hear your name behind you. “You are in time as always,” King Harald says as you look back at him. His smile is gentle as he looks at you, sitting down at the table. “As always, my King,” you answer to him with a small bow. Your relationship with the Viking became almost friendly as the years went by. You never talked much, but he always made sure you know about his gratitude. “How is your mother?” He asks you, drinking from his cup. “She is better,” you answer, stepping closer. “I can manage the bakery, so she has time to rest and heal.” “If somebody gives you a hard time, please tell me,” he replies. “Sit,” he orders you, pointing at the chair before him. “I shouldn’t, my King,” you try to reject his offer as politely as possible, but your words are useless. “Please,” he says stubbornly, and with a suppressed sigh, you sit down in front of him. “I’m sure you have a lot of things to do, and you need energy,” he continues, loading a plate for you with food. “Thank you,” you reply quietly, starting to eat. You don’t want to be on the king's bad side, so if you have to spend a morning with him, so be it. You don’t talk much, but you notice some things on Harald. Like his tired eyes or the grey hairs on his beard and hunched posture as he eats. You fidget in your seat as you try to suppress your questions. “Are you okay, my King?” You ask him after a while, hoping you don’t offend him with your curiosity. “The night was too long, and the morning is too cold,” he says, and you understand his hint. You are probably not the person, he wants to talk about his problems, and it’s understandable. “Thank you for the breakfast, my King,” you tell him when you are done. “I hope your day will be better.” “Thank you, Y/N,” he smiles up at you from his seat, watching you leave the Great Hall.

You meet with the Viking next time while you arrange everything on your small stall at the market. You are so busy getting everything ready you don’t even notice the man first. “Everything smells delicious,” he says, and you almost jump at the sudden voice. “My King,” you greet him, placing your hand on your chest to stop your rapidly beating heart. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he apologizes with a gentle slime. “It’s nothing,” you shake your head, continuing with your tasks. “Can I help you with something?” “I would really like an apple pie,” he says, nodding to the pastries. “I can’t think of anything else for days now,” he continues, and his smile becomes cheeky as you chuckle at his words. Harald always knows his way with words. “Flattery will get you everywhere, my King” you answer, packing a small basket to give it to him. The coins he places in your cold hands for exchange feel too heavy, and as you see their worth, you almost drop them. “It’s too much,” you tell him, panicked. You try to give them back to him, but he steps out of your way. “It’s yours, Y/N,” he says. “You deserve it.” “Thank you,” you answer, placing the coins in your pocket. “But I should give you something else too,” you insist before the man could continue his way around the market. “Bring more pie for dinner, and we will be even,” he says in the end, seeing your stubbornness.

The sun starts to disappear from the gloomy sky as you make your way to the Great Hall. It seems empty as you step into the building. The fire’s warmth reaches you at the entrance, and you sigh at the pleasant feeling. “Y/N,” Harald says your name, standing up from behind the flames. He wears a simple tunic. His coat lays on his throne under his crown. A brown belt hangs loosely on his waist with daggers. “My King,” you greet him, smiling. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” “No, you are not,” he says. “Come, sit with me a little bit.” You try to hide your surprise at the invitation as you move closer to sit next to him. You place down your basket between you two before you free yourself from the coat around your shoulder. “They smell delicious,” he says, looking down at the fabric-covered sweets. “I hope they are delicious too,” you answer. “Thank you,” you continue when he gives you a cup of ale. The liquid warms you up after a few sips. “We will find out soon,” he says, grabbing a slice. Before you know, you sit next to the king, eating and drinking at the fire’s warm embrace. He tells you about his day, about the annoying Earls and problems he dealt with. He asks you about your family and your duties. “You never wanted to be a shieldmaiden?” He asks you. “I thought about it, but I’m not talented,” you answer. “My brothers are in your army, and seeing my clumsiness with swords, it was clear that I should stay in the bakery.” “I hope you don’t take it as an offense, but I’m lucky,” he replies, biting into the next slice. The red juice of the fruit runs down on his fingers. “But I could teach you,” he says, and when he sees your confusion, he continues. “Even if you won’t become a warrior, you should know how to protect yourself.” “I’m sure you have more important things to do, my King,” you answer, surprised. “But I want to,” he insists. “I would really like to spend more time with you.” “Why?” You ask him. Your hand freezes in mid-air as you raised it to drink. “I find your company pleasant, Y/N,” he answers, looking into your eyes. “I understand if you don’t want to. I’m sure you have many suitors you can spend your time with, and I don’t want anything from you, just your company.” “I-I can do that,” you nod, still shocked.

Soon you find yourself at the sparring field with King Harald. His moves are still fast and strong. He helps you with your posture and the way you should use the small dagger he gave you. He comments on your every move and step. “It will be good enough,” he says. “I saw clumsier men on the battlefield before.” “They are dead, aren’t they?” “Yes,” he says after a short pause, and you can’t help but laugh. “Okay, then the battlefield is still not on the list.” “It’s fine,” he says, moving your arm to the right way. “A baker is as important in a village as a blacksmith or a warrior." The night comes without your noticing. The air gets colder, and you have to focus to see through the darkness. “We should finish for today,” he says. “I hope I didn’t keep you away from your duties.” “No,” you answer, shaking your head. “I should thank you. You helped me a lot today.”

King Harald becomes a part of your days. You have breakfast with him when you bring fresh bread to the Great Hall, and when you are finished with your tasks, he helps you with your fighting skills, or you just join him for dinner. Harald opens up to you slowly. He talks about his problems, his insecurities, and he always kisses your hand when you tell him something to cheer him up. You feel sorry for him often. Despite his title and his village’s love for him, he seems lonely under the weight of being a king. There are nights when he is quiet and crestfallen, and the only thing you can do is sit next to him, listening to his words as he pours his heart out. Other times he is cheerful and loud, he makes you laugh till you can’t breathe. The only thing he does without your consent is giving you gifts and too much coin for your baked goods. “I can’t accept it, my King,” you tell him. Your eyes widen as you look over at the beautiful dress. The red fabric is soft and neatly decorated, totally different from what you usually wear. “Of course you can,” Harald replies, pushing the dress into your arms. “I don’t know how to repay this." “Come to the feast tonight,” he says. “That’s the only thing I want.” “Okay,” you nod repeatedly. How could you say no after that dress?

Your mother almost jumps out of her bed when she hears your news. She got better, but you still insist she has to rest. The winter will be cold, and you don’t want her to get sick again. She needs her strength. You bathe before you get ready for the feast. Your mother helps you with your hair and gives you her prettiest furs to cover yourself from the cold night. “If something goes wrong, don’t forget your brothers will be there too,” she says. “Of course, mother,” you smile at her, kissing her cheek as a goodbye. The Great Hall is crowded upon your arrival. The music mixes with shouts and laughter as you enter the building. Women and men dance around the fire while others remain busy with their food. You see your brothers speaking with a few shieldmaidens, and soon you join your friends. Your focus turns to the king’s table after a while. You see a few strangers with women on their sides while Harald nods and hums as they speak. Your eyes meet for a second. The shine in his eyes is nowhere, and his posture is hunched again. You bite into your lip. You want to go to him, to free him from his misery, or at least cheer him up, but you don’t know what he would say. As if reading your mind, he nods with a tired smile. You excuse yourself from your friends to make your way to the table. He opens his arm when you are close enough, and you understand what he wants to do. Harald, besides his success on the battlefield, is well known for his unfortunate love life. “Hey,” you greet him quietly, letting him lead you to his lap. His arms warm you up as you sit down on him sideways. His smile is brighter as he squeezes you as a greeting. You can feel the eyes on you, which makes you uncomfortable. Your fingers fidget with one of the silver decors on your dress. Sensing your discomfort, he looks over to the others with a stoic expression. The man who makes you laugh or leans onto you for support becomes a king in front of your eyes. His posture straightens, and his arm around you tightens. “How do you like the feast?” He asks you quietly. “It’s… loud,” you answer meekly, and he laughs at your answer. “It is, isn’t it?” He asks back, looking around the Hall. The dim light illuminates the crown on his head. “Would you like to retrieve?” He asks you, and after your nod, he stands up with you still in his arms. The Hall erupt in cheers, seeing their king with a woman on his side. Harald gives them what they want and plays along while you need every strength of yours to not laugh at him. His smile is jovial as he looks at you, placing his arm around your waist before you disappear in the corridors. His room is ready for his arrival. The dim light from the fire illuminates the furniture. A big, dark brown pelt lays before the fire with two sofas, and the bed is full of pillows and blankets. You can still hear the ruckus behind the closed door. “Are you okay?” You ask him, turning your head to him as you move to the sofas to sit down. You are not cold, thanks for the ale, but the fireplace’s warmth feels pleasant around you. “Better, now that you are here,” he says cheekily, moving to the other sofa next to you. He sits down, leaning back to the backrest with a sigh. “Did you have a good time?” “Yes,” you nod, smiling. You pull your legs under you, turning to him. Your dress’s color is more vivid under the fire’s light. “It was fun, but I couldn’t do it often.” “You can if you drink enough,” he says, raising his cup. “That’s the secret?” “It’s worked for me so far,” he replies with a shrug, drinking from his ale. For a minute, you just stare at him, and with a shrug, you reach out to his cup to pour yourself from the pitcher. You sit next to each other silently, looking into the flames, sharing a cup till your face starts to heat up from the alcohol. You are definitely not drunk but not sober either. You feel hot and the world around you a little bit hazy, but you feel good. Maybe a little bit sleepy. “You should go home,” Harald says with a small smile. He enjoys your relaxed form and closing eyelids. “I will escort you home.” “ ‘m fine,” you murmur, and he laughs at your state. “C’mon,” he says, standing up from his seat to help you up. You lean to his body till he has to support your whole weight on his chest. He moves his arms around you, stepping closer and closer to his bed without dropping you. “Sleep,” he says, leaning above you when you are on the bed, under the warm covers. “Stay,” you tell him, pulling on his arm. “I don’t want to be alone while everyone is out there,” you glance at the door then up to the man, who just nods. He lays down next to you on the other end of the bed. He feels uncomfortable in his clothes, but the alcohol in his system and your warmth help him falling asleep while the Great Hall is still rowdy.

The morning comes with bad weather. You snuggle deeper under the covers and to the body beside you. You freeze when you feel an arm around you tightening, and even your breath stops for a few seconds. You slowly move to look up at the sleeping man. Harald’s face is relaxed, and his chest moves up and down at a steady pace. You know you should get up before he wakes but every fiber of your body beg to stay and enjoy the peace. The room is dark. The only source of light is the thin gaps on the walls. Everything feels cold, and you pull on the furs to cover yourself more. You feel contentment, lying next to the king. Guided by a sudden thought, you move your hand on the man’s chest. For a few seconds, you just enjoy the feel of his breathing. You bite into your lip, considering your next move. What if he rejects you? What if you lose him as a friend? He needs somebody who doesn’t want anything from him, and you don’t want him to lose it. “Good morning,” His deep voice shakes you up from your thoughts. Your eyes jump up from his chest to his sleepy eyes. A small, content smile forms on his lips, seeing you next to him.

The air around you gets hot as you stare at each other. Harald's arm around you tightens, and you forget to breathe as you move to straddle him. The pelts that surround you still give you warmth however his body would be enough to keep you safe from the cold. His hands find your thighs, and you support yourself on his chest. You stare at him, unblinking, searching for any hint of rejection. When you can’t find any, you lean closer to him till your breaths mix together. His lips are soft and warm as you make the first move and kiss him. His fingers grab your thighs stronger, raising his head from the pillows to keep your lips on his. One of his hands finds your hair, keeping you close to him. Your whole body pressed to his, and you still feel unsatisfied. You need more.

Much more.

You straighten up on his lap. With hurried movements, you reach behind you to lose the laces on your dress. Harald sits up, helping you with your task. The soft fabric almost tears under your touches. As you get free from the dress, the red fabric falls around your waist. A moan leaves your mouth when Harald licks one of your breasts. His tongue is hot on your skin, and you have to grab his shoulders to steady yourself. Your head falls back from the pleasure while your hips start to move above his erection without your control. “My King,” you whimper when his lips move to your other breast. While one of his hands is still holding your thigh, the other one slides lower until he reaches your ass. His fingers sink into your soft flesh, encouraging you to move more on him. “Harald,” you speak up again, impatiently. He bites your nipple, kissing up on your chest to your neck. “What do you want?” He asks you with a cheeky smile. His eyes shine with mischief, and his voice is hoarse from the need. You pull up your dress till the whole thing is around your waist. Your skin is soft and heated as his hands grip your hips. He plays with your flesh, enjoying you between his arms. You pull on his tunic, so he gets rid of it, and he reaches out to you again as if you could disappear in any minute. His chest is inked, and you caress the muscles under your palm while he frees his cock. You can feel his length against your thigh. “Don’t tease me,” you snap at him between whimpers when he moves his cock up and down on your clothed cunt. “Then get what you want,” he says arrogantly, laying back down on the bed. He places his arm under his head, enjoying the view. “You are a wicked king,” you tell him accusingly, and he chuckles at your reaction but doesn’t move to help you out. So you take the control into your own hands. Literally. You push your panties aside, while with your other hand, you grab the base of his cock to place it at your entrance. Your thighs shake as you lower yourself on him. “Good girl,” he sighs, bewitched. He watches his cock disappear in you without blinking, and he could swear to the Gods this is the most beautiful thing he ever saw. You are warm and slick around him, and as soon as you start to move, he can feel your tightness too. Your nails sink into his chest as you brace yourself while your hips move on their own accord. His hands find their place on your jumping breasts, squeezing and massaging them. Moans and mewls leave your parted lips, looking down at the man under you. “I need more,” you tell him when you can’t speed upon him the way you want. He almost laughs at your needy expression with pouted lips and begging eyes. Leaving your breasts, he moves his hand on your hips to steady you for what comes next. Your weight leans on your knees, and it’s his turn to pound into you. Placing his legs to support himself on the bed, he finds the right way to push his cock into you. You are sure you will have bruises from his grip as he starts to move faster and faster into your helpless body. His muscles are tense under your palm, and your breasts jump up and down before his dark eyes. “Harald,” you scream his name as you reach your peak. Your whole body falls on his while he still pushes into you with such a force you almost shout from fear he will tear your apart. His lower body is in the midair when he cums in you. He keeps you on him fully while his chest rumbles with a low growl. You are still on him when he relaxes on the bed. His seed leaks out of you, but none of you move to get clean. Harald's breathing is quick under your head, and your heart is still ready to jump out of your chest. “I could wake up for this every morning,” he says after a while. His fingers caress your naked back, and he kisses your shoulder every now and then. “I have a few ideas what we could do,” you say cheekily, moving to look at his eyes. “You will be the death of me,” he sighs, pecking your lips. “But what a way to go.”

[cloudenthusiast2]

To be a human - Scaramouche x reader - Part 4

You knew committing to a relationship with Scaramouche would be no easy task but you loved him dearly and unlike others, you believed he wasn't evil. But as a mortal and the devoted protector of your village you were too much of a good person, too much of a human compared to him and your differences slowly start to show.

Previous: Part 3 Next: Part 5

Length: ~1000 words

Trigger warnings: yelling

A.n.: Sorry I was a little late with this. But as a compensation it's really long! Here ya go, have some angst

You have been walking around in circles for almost twenty minutes in the kitchen when you finally decided you needed some fresh air.

You grabbed your spear - which was an essential to have even in times like this - and ran out of your home.

The house you lived in was built on a cliff so you could see everyone and everything well. Qingce with all of its beauty and treasures laid in front of you.

The first thing you noticed when you stepped out was the lack of agents.

The fatui has left the village.

Sudden pain stabbed into your heart. Before this all you felt was anger and confusion, but now... it's become official and somehow clearer too.

'What have I done?'

You covered your lips after these words tumbled out of your mouth. You desperately looked around, trying to find someone, trying to find a little shilouette with a ridiculous, huge hat...

But he was gone.

The only people standing around were the people of Qingce village. They tried to pretend they were just working or talking with each other but you could see them taking quick glances of you.

Finally one of them, an elderly, sick man you helped out multiple times looked directly up then started approaching your house.

You took a step back and realised you didn't want to talk to anyone at that moment. It didn't matter whether he wanted to thank you or ask what happened. You wanted and needed to be alone.

As rude as it may have been, you turned around and started walking in the opposite direction. Towards the huge mountains.

You escaped into the forest. Your steps became faster and faster - and suddenly you were running.

Loud gasping echoed in your head. Your hands were shaking, not being able to grab anything properly. A wet, itchy layer blurred your vision as you stumbled through bushes and rocks.

It was a miracle that you got up on the mountain in one piece. You didn't even know how you did it - in one moment you were still climbing and in the next you were standing on the cliff, looking down and being dazed by the height.

You came to this spot on days when you had nothing to do. You liked to write letters, sharpen your spear and most importantly, think everything through here.

For a minute, you were just standing there still, breathing in and out the chilly, fresh mountain air. The rough wind blew through your hair, lifting then letting it go. It fell down and covered your face. You slowly rose your hand and fixed it, staring into the distance.

The sun has reached the top of the sky. But it was still cold around you.

You had hoped the cool weather would be able to clear your mind but it helped nothing. Instead, it made you feel like you were breathing in nothing - like there was no oxygen in your chest at all.

You were suffocating.

Your lips opened to gasp for air but it felt like you were still drowning. Your legs started shaking and you immediately fell on your knees. This broke an invisible gate. Tears started streaming down your face.

He left...

Oh, how much you suddenly regretted your harsh, angry words. You could've just talked it out, you could've just explained it to him calmly...

But would he have really understood?

Loud screech as you clenched your teeth. You did everything to hold back the tears, but it was too late now, you had lost. You sobbed desperately, painfully, alone, in an abandoned top of mountain.

*

Scaramouche loudly slammed his hands on the table and there was no mercy in his ice-like eyes as he stared at the agents in front of him.

'How many times do I have to say this?! Don't start fights the Millelith! We already have diplomatic issues with Liuye Harbour because of that damn incompetent Tartaglia!'

'Apologies, my lord' a pyro agent bowed in front of him while the mirror maiden followed his example. 'We thought...'

'I couldn't care less about what you think' Scaramouche cut in enraged. 'Just follow your orders or I'll make sure you won't ever see the sun coming up again!'

Deep silence followed his words in the tent.

Scaramouche tossed his hat back to glare up at the agents. But they didn't dare look at him. They were always wary of the harbinger who was probably the most powerful and surely the most unpredictable among the Tsaritsa's followers. It wasn't hard to notice how angry he was that day as well.

The cicin mages in the camp were sure it was because of that Liuye girl but most of the agents refused to believe that. It seemed impossible that he would be so upset about splitting up with a mere mortal like you.

Scaramouche let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes for a moment to rest and think a little. He stood there silently with crossed arms and wrinkled brows.

The Millelith. A pain in the neck. How could they possibly avoid them while taking advantage of the small villages around Liuye? Villages who don't have protectors should be an easy prey...

He didn't even realise what a dangerous direction his thoughts were going. He just found himself thinking about you all of a sudden.

This was the hundredth time this day.

It's been almost a day since he turned his back on Qingce. He left the village without looking back, thinking he was free again and that he would be able to finally focus on his work.

But why were you still turning up in his thoughts over and over again? Why did he feel a constant knot in his throat? It didn't loosen, even when he yelled or coughed. He tried both multiple times.

He felt impatient. His body ached to move on, his mind tried to make big plans for the future...

But something in him still didn't want to think about anything or anyone other than you.

This was so stupid.

So unnecessary.

When did stupid humans become so important to him? He killed them off with handing out delusions not so long ago without any hesitation. It was the right thing to do. He never doubted that. Not even for a second.

You were so stupid to say otherwise! Why did you say otherwise?

For a weak moment, he tried to think from your perspective but even then, he understood nothing. All he could think of was that you were just crazy.

Humans deserve nothing. They born, they live so their superiors can make use of them.

You were no exception, he decided. It was ridiculous of him to even think you could be more than just a tool to him.

Why did he even start seeing you?

Memories started to emerge and they invaded his mind in a blink of an eye. And suddenly that weird feeling around his stomach started to strengthen again.

He remembered your smile, the playful and incredibly disrespectful way you greeted him when you two first met. He was out on a quest, alone but still recognisable. You knew he was a harbinger yet you acted like he was a regular mortal.

He hated Liuye. He got lost on his first day in the mountains and who knows what might have happened if you didn't run into him on your way back home.

After making fun of the fatui and its "clumsy" harbingers you offered to be his guide and that had to accepted even though he couldn't stand you at all. You were teasing him all the time, never taking him seriously. And most unforgivable of all, you messed around with his hat.

On the first day, he absolutely despised you.

On the second day, after you have dealt with multiple treasure hoarders without any of his help, he had to admit you were a pretty good fighter.

He was in denial on the third day. You picked violetgrass for him and put them in his pockets, claiming that they suited the boy. He threw them away in a second, getting ready to face your anger. Instead, he was shocked to see you laugh it off. You had... a not so horrible laugh.

Fourth day. Your smile was not that terrible either, he realised.

Day five was the day he saved your life. You were cllimging a mountain together when you saw a Qingxin and reached out to grab it.

He caught you by the arm in the last second. Called you stupid but couldn't hide his blush when you rewarded him with the beautiful, pale white flower.

Then the quest came to an end and he went back home.

Only a month or two have passed when the harbinger came back. He went directly to your door to tell you he will be seeing you. It was not a regular ask - he literally ordered you to go out with him.

No one could tell who was more surprised when you still said agreed to it.

You two were an odd, hard to manage couple but a powerful one.

You could've been happy.

Why does it... hurt so much?

'She's just a stupid human' Scaramouche told himself. The thousandth time that day. 'Completely... replacable.'

These were the words you were the most hurt about. But he tried not to care any more and repeated it to himself.

'Replacable.'

'My lord!'

Scaramouche flinched and looked up as if he had been dreaming all along.

He realised he had been standing there the whole time thinking about you while the agents did not leave yet.

'What is it?' He grunted loudly and all of his weird, almost sad feelings got replaced by anger again. 'What do you want?'

'Your order to stay away from the Millelith' the mirror maiden dared to speak. 'Does it apply to the Abbys as well?'

'The Abbys?' Scaramouche frowned. 'What business do we have with them?'

'It's just that we've recently stumbled upon them multiple times on our quests' she started to explain but the harbinger wasn't patient enough to listen to the whole story.

'Hurry up.'

'Yes, my lord.' The mirror maiden hesitated for a moment but when the pyro agent nodded to her she continued. 'We just think that they might about to target villages next.'

'What are you talking about?' Scaramouche growled at her. He couldn't stand still any more so he started walking around in the small tent.

'The Abbys gathered a lot of hilichurls and monsters together lately. We suspect they might attack a bigger village or town.'

Scaramouche stopped as if he got frozen in his place. The maiden continued to explain what kind of disadvantage that might be for them but he heard nothing of that.

He turned around slowly, barely being able to move his own body.

'What... places will they attack?' He asked in a hoarse voice.

'We can't be sure' the pyro agent answered. 'But Mingyun village is a possibility. And... Qingce probably as well.'

Scaramouche stared at the ground.

So many emotions. Most of them he couldn't even name since he has never felt them. The only familiar ones were anger, confusion... and fear.

Deep, overwhelming, terrible fear. It started in his stomach and slowly reached out to grab his throat with its icy fingers.

He opened his mouth but at first no understandable words left his lips.

'My lord...?'

'Get ready' he finally found his voice.

Scaramouche turned his back to them so he could hide the fact he was shaking. Something terrible froze everything inside him but the fire lighting up his eyes was burning hot when he said:

'We're going back to Qingce.'

[rpd-rookie]

The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.

Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content 

Part 1 / Part 2

***

Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.

William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?

But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.

Love runs away from those chasing her.          Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent.  But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea.  This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears.        Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!

Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.

But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds.           And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! -  or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.

So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now.            You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it.         But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.

You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t.    You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had.            You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.

Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.

“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you.      Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened.     Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure!   Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards.         Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since,       with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant.    So what do you choose?

You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!

You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces.         “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is!  “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first.          “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.

“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…”     “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here.    “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!”         “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!”             You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”

Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to!   “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more.    “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence.   “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.”    You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe?         “Goodbye Leon.”

With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me!    But this not what Leon wants.

“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you.     “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob.           “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.”     You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart.     “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.”    “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth.       “Don’t!” You beg, weary.           “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.”      “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”

You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?

“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot.  “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again.                        “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?”        “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time.     “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”

This better not hurt this time…

[lauras-collection]

✮ electric love | part 1 ✮

Harrison Osterfield x fem!reader | fwb!roommates au

|| Masterlist || Series Masterlist ||

Summary: Living with your best friends Tom and Harrison is all fun and games until one drunken night alone with Harrison, you give in to your attraction to him. You tell yourself you should leave it at that, forget about the night you spent with him and move on to not ruin your friendship, but neither of you can stay away from each other. So without considering the possible consequences, you make a deal. But how are you supposed to keep your shenanigans from Tom? And how are you supposed to not break the number one rule of an arrangement like this: do not fall in love.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ [protected sex, drunk sex], alcohol consumption and being drunk, reader and Haz being horny idiots? (this kinda goes for the whole series lmao)

A/N: Ahhh I'm so excited for this (mini) series!! I hope you guys like it!

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Growing up, your dream was to go to university and have the time of your life with your best friends. It wasn’t until about a year ago that that dream started to become a reality. You and your best friends Tom and Harrison all got accepted to the same university. A university all three of you had dreamed of going to for years. So without having to think twice about it, you registered for the fall semester and started looking for a flat together.

You’d had countless sleepovers with the two boys, and went on holiday together, so you had an idea of what you were signing up for moving in with them. They weren’t neat freaks but knew how to keep a place clean. That was all you were asking for. No way were you going to be their maid and clean up after them.

What you weren’t prepared for, however, was that the harmless attraction you had felt towards Harrison for a while now got increasingly more prominent. Yours and Harrison’s friendship and the way you interact with each other had always been flirty. But ever since your final months in school you’d been a little confused by your feelings towards Harrison. You never did anything to explore those feelings, though. He’s your best friend, and there are always consequences when you cross that line with a friend. You told yourself it’s just a phase.

Anyway, living with Harrison presented itself as more of a challenge than initially anticipated. The guy has no shame running around the flat half-naked. Neither does Tom, but that doesn’t affect you in the way that it does with Harrison. Both of them are attractive, yes, but your belly does somersaults whenever you get the slightest view of Harrison’s naked skin. You hate it. And you start to wonder if moving in with him was as good of an idea as you thought.

Besides the inner turmoil, you’ve honestly gotten used to over the past couple of months, living with Tom and Harrison is a blast. You always have someone to talk to, to vent about how annoying uni homework can be, and always someone to cheer you up at the end of a stressful day.

Whenever one of the three of you is down, the other two are always there to make it better.

Tom had taken up a bartending job a couple weeks into the first semester, which ended up being beneficial to all of you. For Tom, the obvious benefit was earning money, for you and Harrison, it was discounted drinks. The pub he worked at quickly became your go-to spot even when Tom wasn’t working.

Right now, however, Tom was working and you and Harrison didn’t feel like going out. There’s no party or at least none that you are interested in going to, so you decide to throw your own little private party. And by private you mean no guests, you couldn’t be bothered to clean up after dozens of people who don't give a crap what they keep lying around.

Plus, both of you had a stressful week with tests and deadlines, and you’re looking forward to just chill for a bit. Harrison got the booze, and you took care of the snacks and movies, so now you’re sitting on the couch watching one of the most ridiculous horror films you’ve ever seen while guzzling down one can of cider after the other.

"Oh my gosh, no! Don’t go in there!” You shout at the TV, not that it makes any type of difference. “And he went in there. And now he’s dead.” You say matter of factly, causing Harrison to laugh.

“He’s not dead yet.” He points out, but it doesn’t take long for the music to get more intense. And ten seconds later, the guy on screen is, indeed, dead. You give Harrison a look, but he just keeps laughing.

“Why are people in horror films always so stupid? Wouldn’t it be much scarier if they were super smart and always did the right thing and end up getting killed anyway?”

“But then you wouldn’t be shouting at the TV. Don’t you think it’s kind of cathartic?” Harrison asks with a raised brow, “Honestly, I feel like you’re bottling up all your frustrations and then let them all out when we’re watching horror films.” You can see the amusement in his face, and all you can do is roll your eyes.

“Shut up.” You throw a pillow at him, which he, unfortunately, catches. Watching bad horror films was sort of your and Harrison’s thing. Tom wasn’t really a fan of them, so whenever he was gone, it was an unspoken rule that you and Harrison would be watching a horror movie that evening. There might be a limited amount of good horror movies, but for every good one, there were at least fifty bad ones.

“You want another drink?” Harrison asks as he gently moves your feet out of his lap and gets up from the sofa. He picks your empty can up from the coffee table and takes it to the kitchen along with his own empty can of beer.

“Yes, please!” You call after him even though your living area is an open space, so you can still see him as he opens the fridge. “There's only so much I can take while being sober.”

“You’ve already had two drinks, there’s no way you’re still sober.” Harrison chuckles, plopping down on the sofa next to you before handing you a new can of cider.

You make an undistinguishable noise as you open the can and take a sip.

*

An hour later, you’re both proper drunk. The movie has long since been over, but neither of you have been bothered to turn off the TV or put on a different movie. Harrison is slouched next to you, his arm loosely thrown over your shoulder, his fingers playing with your hair as he watches you intently while you try to explain to him why you think that one of your professors is actually working undercover for the MI6.

"It makes complete sense! Why else would he be late and unprepared all the time, huh?"

Harrison just raises his eyebrows “Maybe he doesn’t take his job very seriously?”

“No, he takes his job too seriously. Because he’s a secret agent for MI6 and spends his whole time fighting the bad guys instead of preparing his lessons!”

“But didn’t you say he’s undercover? Why would he neglect his teaching if that’s part of his job for MI6?”

“Shhhh” You shush him, placing your pointer finger over his lips “Don’t question my logic”

Harrison gently wraps his hand around yours to pull it away from his mouth.

“I’m sorry to say this, but there isn’t much logic behind that theory, love.”

“You’re mean” You push your bottom lip forward in a pout.

“I’m not! I’m just stating facts here” He’s still holding your hand in his and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of your skin that’s touching his. So in an attempt to stop the shivers running down your spine, you try to pull your hand out of his hold, but his grip just tightens. When you look up, he’s already looking at you, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” You ask your voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing” He shrugs his shoulders, the corner of his mouth kicking up into a smirk. And then he tugs on your hand, pulling you on top of him, and in a movement that has your head spinning, he rolls both of you over so he’s now hovering above you. You don’t even have the chance to say anything before he’s got his hands on your sides, tickling you.

“Oh my god, Haz, no” You press out between laughs, your stomach already starting to hurt. You try to curl up into yourself to get away from his wiggling fingers, but it’s no use, Harrison’s got you pinned down.

You hadn’t even been aware that he’s positioned between your legs, and the sudden realisation makes your breath catch in your throat. You try to get a grasp on his arms to push him away, get him to stop tickling you, but he’s too strong, taking your hands and pinning them above your head. The motion has his face only inches from yours, his breath hitting your lips, and it takes everything in you to keep still. The air between you is charged, his eyes flitting over your face, and you can feel his chest touch yours with every breath.

By now, he’s completely covering your body on the couch, and all you want to do is wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer into you. But you can’t move, kept in place by Harrison’s pale blue eyes. And then everything happens so quickly it takes your breath away.

Harrison makes a noise in the back of his throat, and then his lips are on yours. He takes your top lip between his, then your bottom lip and then you’re finally registering what’s happening and lean up, chasing his lips.

His grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck as you open your mouth, inviting him in deeper. You bury your hands in Harrison’s soft hair, tugging on his dark blond curls.

Harrison groans and rolls his hips into yours, and the feeling of him against you makes you throw all caution into the wind. You’re overcome with desire. With a swift but clumsy movement, you tug his shirt over his head.

Meanwhile, Harrison’s hands have also found their way under your shirt, his fingertip trailing over your skin, causing goosebumps to rise wherever he’s touching you. Your breathing’s uneven as he moves his lips to your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses all over your skin.

Arching your back you press yourself closer to him and wrap your legs around him. You run your hands over his toned back, feeling his muscles contract with each of his movements.

It’s been a while since you’ve been touched like this. And all of the sexual frustration you’ve been bottling up is threatening to spill over with the way Harrison’s hands are caressing your skin.

It almost feels like your brain shuts off completely when Harrison finds your sweet spot and starts sucking on it. You feel a tingling sensation in your lower belly, and then your clit’s throbbing, and you lose all sense of rational thinking.

“Fuck me” The words leave your lips without you even realising, and for a moment both you and Harrison pause. He lifts himself up to look at you, searching your face. And he must’ve found whatever he was looking for because in the next second his grip on you tightens, and then your shirt is pulled over your head.

“Gorgeous” The word falls from his lips with a hushed breath, as if he’s in awe, his eyes roaming over your half-naked body.

With frenzied movements, you both undress, not without getting tangled a couple of times. But then you’re naked, and if your mind wasn’t so foggy with desire, you would take a moment to appreciate Harrison’s handsome form as he positions himself between your legs. He’s got his hard cock in his hand about to enter you when he pauses.

“Fuck. I need to get a condom”

You let out a soft whine, but Harrison is back so quickly you hadn’t even really registered he was gone.

With one hand on your bent knee, he runs his fingers through your slick folds and lets out a low hiss.

“You’re so wet, this all for me?” You can hear the cocky smirk in his voice, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes.

“Yes, now please fuck me already.”

And then you feel his tip against your entrance. Harrison doesn’t give you much time to prepare as he starts pushing into you. You’re not complaining though, the feeling of his girth stretching you out is better than anything you’ve ever experienced.

When he’s completely inside of you, he halts his movements, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

“So tight” He murmurs against your skin, then places a sloppy kiss on your shoulder. Your cunt is throbbing, and in an attempt to get him to move, you roll your hips against his, causing Harrison to curse. “Fuck, you’re needy, aren’t you?”

You don’t grant that with an answer, and you don’t need to because the next thing you know, Harrison starts thrusting, moving in and out of you, his movements getting quicker and quicker every time he enters you.

The living room is filled with the sounds of skin hitting skin and breathy moans.

“Right there” You throw your head back with a groan when Harrison’s cock grazes your g-spot, and then Harrison seems hellbent on hitting it over and over and over again until you can’t think straight anymore. Your whole body is tingling, the coil in your stomach about to snap as you try to spread your legs even further, to feel him deeper.

You barely notice Harrison’s strained groans as he places his thumb on your clit. The sudden stimulation makes you cry out, your walls spasming around his cock as your release washes over you in shuddering waves.

You dig your fingernails into whatever you can hold onto as you cum around Harrison’s cock.

Your release pushes him over the edge as well, his cock twitching inside you as he orgasms with a deep groan.

You both need a moment to catch your breath. Your skin is sticky with sweat, but you don’t have the energy to get up and take a shower. Especially not with Harrison sprawled on top of you.

He pulls out of you, and before you can even register the cold air around you, he pulls the blanket from the back of the couch and covers you with it. He tugs on his boxers and gets up, probably to dispose of the condom, before he joins you back on the couch.

He squeezes himself between you and the back of the couch, pulling you close to him so you won’t fall off the couch.

“How was that?” He whispers as he joins you under the blanket and tangles his legs with yours.

“Good” You hum “Very good”

Harrison’s grip on you tightens a bit, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, placing a kiss there.

“It was, wasn’t it” You can feel him smile against your skin, and you let yourself sink into him. You’re starting to feel the energy draining from you.

And with nothing but Harrison filling your thoughts, you fall asleep.

A/N: here it is! the first part!! I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think!!! <3

everything taglist: @spidermanlondon​ // @duskholland​ // @tutuabby28​ // @missevrythingg​ // @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​ // @thenoddingbunny-blog​ // @emilykjh​ // @clara-licht​ // @hollandfanficlove​ // @calltothewild​ // @crybabyalexxx​ // @hazardosterfield​ // @calsthomas​ // @quaksonhehe​ // @sinisterspidey​ // @thirzaholland // @tombrina​ // @outshineallthestars​ // @serendipitous-amor​ // @soincredible​ // @trustfundparker​ // @localfangirlx // @writertoo18​ // @viagracex​ // @skamlover200​ // @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ // @wehavetomakeourheartssitstill​ // @thearchersupremacy​ // @itstaskeen​ // @camimndess​ // @allyz​ // @technosoot​ // @fanficscuziranout​ // @parker-hollandx // @givebuckyhisplumsnow​ // @dangerouslovefanfic​ // @ertherealrose​ // @i-married-a-pineapple // @miraclesoflove​ // @bi-girlwrites-2000​ // @seasidetom​ // @katcontrreras​ // ** // @fallingforfics​ // @destinedbooklover // @parkerpeter24​ // @selfcarecap​ // @moonphoric // @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​ // @emistrash​ // @badreputationlove​ // @turtoix​ // @haloxmendes​ // @anjalika03​ // @iamsherloki-wholocked​ // @the-fan-18​ // @white-wolf1940​ // @aidinniram​  // @heyhihellowhatsup0​ // @blackbat2020​ // @keithseabrook27 // @annathesillyfriend​ // @hoodpankow​ // @practicallylivesonline​  // @millennial-teenybopper​ // @beautifulrose0809​ // parachutepanties // @jamiealenaa​ // @hallecarey1​

harrison osterfield taglist: @hjoficrecs​ // @lolychu​ // @hazardosterfield​ // @hollandbroz-n-haz​ // @emilyg453​

series taglist: @softholand​ // @svturtles​ // @cloverrover​ // @goodgirlgonetom // @justafangirlduh​ // @thegirlwiththediary​ // @beyond-the-ashes​ // @parkerbunny​ // @bearsbeetsbarnes​ // @keithseabrook27

electric love taglist: @blueraindrops​ // @spideyssunshine​ // @defensive_sarcasm17 // @captainbucky13​ // @frenchfrostpudding // @the-fan-18​ // @hotforharrison​ // @osterfieldvol6 // @castawayclaires // @littlebookbengal​ // @bigbootyjudys-blog​ // @abcxrandomx // @74limelight​ // @lolooo22​ // @justsayk​ // @mountainsforwords​

[itsbuckytm]

Reunited souls / Harry Gardner x Reader

Summary : The reader and Harry knew each other back in uni before she met her success by also moving into Provincetown. Their reunion takes a little turn and maybe this town isn’t as populated as everyone thinks.

Warning : None

Enjoy 🤍

Harry knew something was wrong with him. Not to mention, ever since coming to Provincetown to escape his own reality in order to proceed his screen writer’s dream and yet there he was sitting right in front of his laptop. Troubled minded by the sound of violon coming from upstairs and he knew that the only way to end this madness was to call out his for daughter’s name.

With such aggression coming from his voice, his daughter became quite aware of her own father’s bothers. However, she knew a little too much how to put words together, thus resulting often for Doris to intervene and without any more fuss dragged her daughter for an afternoon walk.

You noticed the family’s arrival when the previous house owner called. “You’re gonna see they are a lovely family.” She said with much confidence you reassured her and also relieved to finally have another “normal” neighbor without having to stalk to their main’s window in order to keep your safety at peace.

Meeting The Gardner almost became one of the best things you could’ve wished for. The kid just as smart and artistic as her father’s, Doris who you learned coming back from Sommers’s house and both of you clicked.

On a faithful night they have invited you over dinner. Recently the poor innocent family were being stalked or should we put formally had intruders hungrily coming at their fresh flesh. Being a screen writer yourself, Harry’s name came fairly familiar in your head and within a few seconds from being at their house for dinner his eyes wide with excitement.

“You’re, Y/N! No reason your name and voice sounded so familiar. We worked in a few shows prior during our years in university, remember. Mentor Gardner by any chances?” And that is when it clicked, all of the memories from your past glueing itself bits by bits.

Flashing your signature smile at him remembering indeed, letting out a soft chuckle a confused Doris looked at the both of you. “Of course I do. My apologies, just ever since I decided to settled in here things just escalated so quick.”

Harry whom listened to your words in inspiration, as if the one who mastered you for years now was you when you you under his wings. “Mentor Gardner?” Doris interrupted and by the sound of her voice, laughed at the sudden name her husband had and never thought to hear in her life.

“Oh right,” Exchanging a look to Harry nodding comfortably for you to explain how this even came up to giving him the title. “Let’s just say when we were in the same program, he was well known for his screen play and writing. Most of the plays out of the classic known of course, was all from his own mind and words. Even the teachers offered him to be a Mentor for the first grade students and which I came in the picture.”

Now fully understanding it Doris feeling exhausted from her day, the stress from the baby she excused herself kissing her husband’s forehead and leaving you both alone in silence the house now corrupted beneath your feet.

Glancing at your friend’s laptop you noticed a blank page. Noticing where you were looking, Harry let out a sigh. “Having a creative block. And thought that this town was every writer’s place. Or as Sommers says it so well. It’s Muse.”

Wait… did he already… No it couldn’t. It was too early you thought to yourself. Austin would’ve mentioned him about now. Or was it a surprise both Belle and him wanted to keep before the right time?

Just as you were about to say anything let alone protest at the how in the world he knew her friends so soon, he let out of his pocket a pack of plastic with way too familiar pills. Pills you also used yourself.

Eyes widened, noticing your quick reaction he interrupted the now unnoticeable silence you both had completely forgotten. “You know these pills?”

And just with that you imagined yourself as if you were in the place of a victim being questioned for a moral you barely knew to be seen as bad or worse illegal. With a sigh enough to be a respond to Harry he himself let out a dry chuckle which confused you more. “What?”

“I’ve been using them these past weeks. Aren’t they amazing? Austin and Belle told me about you. An elegant lady so innocent on the outside yet a rebel on the inside.” This smirk, a smirk you never thought in your right mind Harry could’ve pull up quick.

The Harry you knew was a good man, not a monster nor a soon to be a vampire. Regret and remorse came rushing through you, if there was one person you didn’t want to fall into the whole of Belle’s was definitely him. But with such unfaithful events he did, Belle knew what she was doing and Austin being a little too protective of your own sake knew it was best to not say a word nor interfere her work.

“You know I already have two offers for a big Plot on Netflix and it’s so exciting. We should co-write something together and by dawn we could be the next thing the world needs.”

Looking at your friend in a completely new perspective nothing but excitement and a fake yet subtle smile came into view as the father now a hungry yet innocent monster that only wanted fame took you into a hug. A hug as he took into your arms and twirled you around and whiting a slip of a second, his lips his lips brushed yours with lust he never felt before.

You knowing it was just a clumsy act of his, let out a chuckle and with much happiness for him congratulated him. “I’m really happy I really, am. You know I still wonder how in the world you know-“

“For another time. For now we have another amazing story to invite and write about, how about I offer you a drink? It’s all on me.”

Cut by surprised all you could now was to nod and just as then he linked his arm with yours. Looking at the man as you both walked out of the house, with either confusion yet awe knowing that not only you and the two women he loved the most and within his new condition had to protect them from his doing.

“I’m sure Belle and Austin would be glad to see us tonight.”

“Oh I am sure they will.”

And until sunrise all four of you did you errands, a lost soul you each were craving for no matter it’s care and sorrow. Just two lost souls running until it’s exasperation.

[xxsycamore]

- Vanilla Sunday - HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAPOLEON -

Rating:G

Word count: 2,077

Relationship: F/M; Napoleon/MC

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Teacher Napoleon; Established Relationship; Birthday Fluff; Morning Cuddles; Fluff; Domestic Fluff

A/N: Happy birthday to my beloved Napoleon! 

Part 7 of Napoleon week 2021  DAY 7 [ AUGUST 15th ] — Surprise / Free day // “For me, that’s enough.”

Feeling a brief touch across his cheek, Napoleon frowns in his sleep. In his sleeping mind, he has no idea where the sudden irritation came from, or what it might be - he only cares about continuing his sleep at all costs. So he tries his best to fight the pest, his nose twitching at the next caress as he brings his hand from under the sheets to try and shoo it away. Only, the more he moves, the more he sparks awakeness in his body - and the more his senses get to register.

There is a faint chuckle, very close to him, so close that a breath of air could be felt on his skin. Next comes a soothing voice, one that sounds like a melody and one that he could recognize in the deepest depths of dreams.

"Darling, wake up. You have to get up, darling."

Napoleon's breath hitches in his throat as he becomes genuinely awake now, gaining a sense of the world around him, albeit he chooses to remind an outsider to it for a little longer. He feels the sheets under his fingers and snatches them back over his torso, embracing the call of his heavy eyelids.

"Darling, you're going to be late for school! You don't want to make the kids wait again!"

He hears the words of his sweet wife loud and clear, and as much as he loves her, those words are like fingernails on a chalkboard for him right now. He is as thankful as one loving husband could be to have his lover take the task of being his personal alarm. What happened with his digital one anyway? Was he so deeply asleep he somehow missed it?

There are too many things to progress at once suddenly, and as he emits another grumpy sound, he releases the covers again. This time his hand wanders in the air from where the voice came from - in his current state, his movements are as clumsy as they could get, so it is the cue for her to run while she had the opportunity.

But she remains on her place, in arm's length and wide open for his attack - and as soon as Napoleon gets a hold on her arm, he drags her to lay on her side. A slight thump is heard and the next thing he could hear is a trademark exclamation made from behind a pair of closed lips. They're sealed by Napoleon's own, as he savors the noises of her putting up a fight, playfully trying to get away from his hold. It only provokes him to find more of her to hold into, her arms, her hands, the hem of her clothing, the waist, until he is suddenly hoovering over her, managing to trap her under him.

The bedsheets drop from his shoulders, and he can feel the sun on his bare skin. It's a warm, humid day. He opens his eyes.

MC stares up at him, twiddling with locks of her hair that got in the way. "Surprise, it's a Sunday."

Napoleon stays silent. They're keeping their eyes locked into each other's, as he tries to read her. Is she nervous to have tricked him so dirty? Is she going to burst into laughter and make fun of him for just how successful it really was?

"Your eyes are so pretty, Napoleon."

He blinks at her. Once again, way too many thoughts occupy his head at once and he sits back on the bed, bringing a hand to rub over his eyelids. He drags it lower and then over his mouth, and the word "Nunuche" comes out muffled. It's loud enough for MC to hear it, as she sits up as well, leaning her back on the headboard, legs crossed.

"Yes?"

Napoleon crawls closer to her, putting his large hand on top of her head and beginning to ruffle her hair almost revengefully. "You're confusing me. First, you make fun of me, then you act like we're having eye contact for the first time."

If there was even the slightest of resistance about laughing, it's not the case anymore for her. Half-heartedly trying to push his hand away, she tries to excuse her earlier awe of meeting his gaze with more teasing, pointing out how she hasn't had a chance to see it ever since last night. They bicker for a couple of moments more as she makes sure he doesn't accidentally get into a comfortable enough position to prolong his slumber. God forbid! She put so much effort into it.

He ends up looking at her upside down, as his head rests on her lap. He knows he is getting too cheeky this morning, but at the same time, it feels fair with how she tricked him into believing he had to get out from his cozy bed for work. Speaking of the despicable…

"So it's a Sunday and not a workday. Anything else you wanna add?"

"Hmmmm…" MC cradles his cheek, looking nowhere in particular as if to play dumb. "Oh, it's summer break."

"Right. It's a Sunday on a summer break."

"Are you angry at me?"

Napoleon tries to snatch her hand and give it a little bite or whatever his irritation chooses to manifest as - but she is quick to withdraw as she is a little too trained for his attacks. He thinks that she might be cutting their messing around short because of genuine concern, and hurries to affirm her.

"How could I be? Look at you, being so cute first thing in the morning."

She giggles to shake the sheer embarrassment away and shifts her legs a little to let him know she wants to stand up. "I'm afraid this is far from first thing in the morning for me! I've been awake for some time now."

"Hmm? On a Sunday? Something you had to take care of?"

With a little more effort that makes it seems like Napoleon's head is a magnet glued to her lap - or rather, to any resting spot in general - he is put at a safe distance that makes it possible for MC to stand up. She searches for her house slippers that got kicked somewhere under the bed earlier, and tries to answer him in the meantime.

"No, just felt like it! I still haven't had breakfast, though. Let's go in the kitchen together?"

"Sounds good. I'll see if I could make you something in return for waking me up."

Wait, wasn't he displeased for not sleeping in, or maybe he is happy after all? Despite being puzzled about it, MC pays it no thought as she tugs him to get out of bed. She makes sure he is walking in front of her as they head to the kitchen.

"Wow, what is that?"

Napoleon squints a little, trying to see what MC is talking about. The morning light is still a little harsh on his eyes, despite the good twenty minutes or so they spend back at the bedroom. The first thing his eyes lay on, however, is something on the kitchen table that could as well be the same thing that is catching MC's attention.

"Nunuche where did that-" His rational thoughts come into his mind before he could finish the question. He is still sleepy alright, but not so enough to not see right through her second- no, third!- lie for the day.

On the middle of the kitchen table is placed a big sundae in a tall parfait glass. There are multiple scoops of what looked like vanilla-flavored ice cream with lemon topping on it. It even has the classy chocolate wafer rolls and the cherry on top as a decoration.

He knows exactly where did it come from, or rather, which pretty little hands made it.

"Nunuche."

MC is prepared for the way he turns around to face her, but not for the way he scoops her right from the ground in his arms.

Napoleon ignores her protests, crossing the room towards the table, and pulls a chair, sitting sideways on it with MC still in his arms. She ends up occupying his lap and having little to nowhere to escape from what she knew was coming.

"I guess is not any ordinary Sunday, on a summer break." She wants a second to prepare herself, just a second more - but the way his eyes are holding hers, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile that tells her that he already knows the rest of it -

"Happy birthday, Napoleon."

She closes her eyes, anticipating the kiss that she was a hundred percent sure was coming, only to feel her lips twitch nervously at its delay. Her eyes open to check for his reaction, and she is taken aback by the sudden clash as Napoleon presses his mouth to hers. Naturally, her eyes fall closed again as she sinks into the growing warmth that nestles in her chest.

Napoleon is a little slack in the kiss, as if hurrying to cut it short because of an urging thought. His hands carefully find their way on both sides of her face, caressing it gently as if it's his biggest treasure that lies between them. She remains with her eyes closed, a little smile on her face as she lets him do whatever he wants, feeling his thumbs rub into her cheeks.

"I-" Napoleon starts, suddenly not finding it that hard to wrap his mind around rational thoughts and all that. Each one of them prompted him to thank her, to confess his astonishment with just how cute and clever she was for preparing this for him. Or, rather, to go further than that and thank her more, for being here for him through another birthday, for staying in his life this long, for everything. He releases a lifetime wouldn't be enough for that, and remembers two simple words that MC taught him to use more often, for times just like this.

"Thank you." Napoleon leans close, wondering if another kiss would be too much to ask for, and he settles for a small peck against her lips. "Thank you, my love."

MC returns the gesture with a smooch of her own that falls just short of his lips. She throws her arms around him, cuddling him close to herself satisfied with his reaction. "Aww, it's just a sundae, though!"

"For me, that's enough. Well, at least until I'm done with it. We'll see afterwards-- wait Nunuche, I'm joking! Don't pull on my hair like that!"

In an attempt to stop her, Napoleon almost drops MC from his lap. That makes her grab onto his shoulders harder to regain her balance as she shrieks. Napoleon secures his hold as he laughs at her reaction, kissing her on the lips again to calm her down. He hugs her close, whispering softly in his ear with no clear vexation to his tone.

"You're making good use of my morning cluelessness, aren't you now?"

"Hehe…how could I not? It makes for a nice surprise, with how easy it is to lie to you…" She knows she is asking for more naught, so she hurries to add something that would distract him. "Though, you know what wasn't a lie? That I hadn't had breakfast yet."

Napoleon hums before nodding in agreement. "That's good." He tips his head in the direction of the huge desert waiting for him. "Because I think this is too much even for me and my sweet tooth." He carefully pulls the glass closer while refusing to let go of MC, hugging around her waist with his other hand. He fishes out the little spoon in the sundae, taking a scoop and bringing it to MC's mouth.

She opens her mouth ready to take it in, only for it to be snatched away as she watches Napoleon eat it himself. "Hey!"

"What, this is my dessert. I get to try it first, it's only fair!" He jokes, enjoying her expression as he scoops another spoonful before his nunuche could get too rilled up by his actions. It's only the beginning of this wonderful Sunday on a summer break that also just so happens to be his birthday. It would be a shame if he got her rilled up so fast into the day, considering that he had so many more plans for her that involved a sprinkle of teasing on top.

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[dreamsclock]

consider: enderdragon!dream but nobody really knows what he is because nobody's ever been to the end and seen an ender dragon. they know he's some kind of mob- obviously with the wings and tail and claws he's not human but they've never seen anything like that before. maybe somebody connects the dots by reading through old books and seeing a drawing?

cut for length !! this is ENTIRELY fluffy and made me so happy to write :D this is set a couple of years into the future where everyone is happy and healed because this is what i need BSKBFKS, and everyone knows about karl’s time travel!!

“So, uh, Dream,” Karl says awkwardly, “I slept with your mom last night.”

Quackity instantly hoots with laughter, cackling. “Karl, man, holy shit!”

Dream rolls his eyes, curling up on the couch with a snort. “Jeez, Karl, I thought I was safe from the mom jokes, considering we don’t know who she is,” he banters goodnaturedly, “what the hell.”

“That was kind of messed up,” George adds, but he’s smirking, and Sapnap imitates him in a high-pitched voice that has George glaring at him, “Sapnap, shut up.”

“No, no, I’m being serious,” Karl stresses, fidgeting, and George shuts up for a second, arching his eyebrows in confusion, “I- uh, Dream, I kind of met your mom last night. And we-”

“You’re not seriously telling me you slept with some lady claiming to be Dream’s fucking mom,” Sapnap says in disbelief, “no, what the fuck, I can’t do this today.”

“No, no, oh my god, I didn’t-” Karl giggles nervously, “I didn’t cheat on you, what the honk, I wouldn’t do that.”

Predictably, Quackity bursts into noisy fake sobs, burying his face in Sapnap’s shoulder. “He’s fucking cheating on us, babe,” he wails, and even Dream, who looks far more stunned than any of them, can’t help but snort in amusement, “I hate it here, Karl, you’ve broke my heart.”

“Hey, hey, wait a minute,” Dream says, frowning after regaining his composure, “what do you mean? You met my- my mom?”

And there’s something aching in his voice, something so soft and longing that the others shuffle, quietening down and focusing on Karl, who waves his hand vaguely. “So, you know I can time travel,” he says awkwardly, “I sort of travelled back in time yesterday. And, uh... met your mom.”

George looks surprised. “How do you know?”

“Because I met Dream as a kid, too.” Karl has to smile at the reminder of the cheerful freckled little boy he’d met with clumsy wings and a gap-toothed smile. With years of healing and careful conversation, he’d slowly regained that personality, but there’s still something vacant behind his eyes sometimes. Seeing his friend as unburdened and childish had been nice, even if it hadn’t been for very long. “Your mom let me stay for the night. I didn’t... I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go, hah.”

He takes a breath.

“So... Yeah, I kind of figured out what you are.”

That catches all of their attention. Eyes widening, Dream leans forwards, drumming his fingers against the table. “You did?” He asks. “What- What am I?”

Karl gnaws his lip. “Well, firstly, you’re not from this world,” he says, and over the table, Sapnap swears, and passes three diamonds to a smug-looking Quackity, “you’re from... The End.”

“The End?” George muses, tilting his head contemplatively. “That’s a myth.”

Dream has gone very, very still. “No,” he says quietly, “it’s just off limits in this world.” His tail twitches; self-consciously, he tugs it closer to him. “What am I? What creature from the End?”

“An enderdragon,” Karl replies, watching Quackity’s eyebrows shoot up on his head, “half, anyway. Half dragon, half human.”

He fumbles in the sudden stillness of the room, pulling out photos from his bag and handing them to Dream, who takes them stiltedly, pale and stunned.

“Photos of your mom and you,” he tells him. “I thought... I dunno, maybe you’d want them.”

And Dream’s face breaks out into a glowing smile, fangs and all, soaking in the photographs intently. 

“I do,” he says softly, “I do, yeah.”

Sapnap ruffles his hair, Quackity kicks Dream’s foot, and George tilts his head to see the photos better. Small gestures, but Dream looks near tears, and, when he meets Karl’s eyes, he’s happier than he’s looked in decades. 

Karl thinks of the little boy who had offered his hand in the End with his smiling mother nearby, and grins back. This is the future Dream deserves.