#mention really creepy and he makes me uneasy and sometimes it's hard to tell if he's with us or wants to rebel i guess that's him though no

[jammingwithpigeon]

i don't know if i've ever told you guys this but back in 2017 i decided to learn the entire animal jam 6th birthday rap by aparri and to this very day can recite it word for word without listening to it

[kmorgzz]

Mistakes?

Character: Porco Galliard x f!reader (female bodied and feminine pet names)

Word Count: 5.8K (look... don’t ask, I was possessed)

Genre: smut/fluff

Plot: bit of fake dating and FWB to lovers babyyyyyy

Warnings: slightest bit of degradation (calls reader a slut a few times), mentions of flushing skin/appearance of hickies, unprotected sex, face sitting, cum swallowing

Thank you @ringpop-poppy for always having Porco brainrot with me<3 and thanks to @alto-march-of-death​ for being a beta <3

“Porky,” you sing as you unlock the door to his apartment. The spare key was hidden exactly where it always is. He had threatened to move it so you couldn’t arrive unannounced like you always did. It was an empty threat, and you both knew it. “I brought the snacks for movie night! If you’re playing with your dick you better put it away!”

Porco rolls his eyes as he emerges from the hallway and into the living room. He’s slipping a shirt on over his broad chest as he says, “You always mention my dick. Is it because you want it or something?” He takes the bags of snacks from you and takes them to the kitchen. “Someone might think you’re only friends with me for the sex.”

You pout, removing your shoes and scoffing, “Oh please, we haven’t even had sex. Following your logic, does that mean you want to have sex with me?” Water spews from Porco’s lips at your comment and you smile innocently, “What? Was it something I said?”

He grabs a paper towel, mopping up the counter, “Shut up. You’re disgusting.” Porco scrunches his nose in distaste, “As if I’d have sex with you anyway.”

You clutch at your chest dramatically, “You wound me, Porky. How will I ever go on?”

He waves a hand as he goes back to the living room to sit on the couch, “If you die, at least have the courtesy to crawl outside. I don’t want you decomposing in my kitchen.”

This was your friendship; it was humorous, teasing, playful. Someone on the outside might be concerned that the threats and the disgust were real, but the two of you knew there wasn’t any truth to it. You made your way to the couch, waiting for Porco to get comfy before you joined him. When he was comfy, he sighed in fake annoyance before patting his lap, “Come on.”

Movie nights always came with this arrangement. Porco with his back to the armrest, laying on the couch, legs spread. You between his legs, head resting on his chest. It wasn’t always this way, but with time and a bit of emotional vulnerability, the two of you had become open to the physical affection of close friends.

The movie started, but it was one you had both seen before. Movie nights started with a movie you had seen, simply because the first movie was background noise. The two of you spent most of the first movie talking about your day, about developments in your lives, things like that.

“How’s that crush on Reiner,” Porco asks. “You ever pull up your big girl panties and tell him you’re interested?”

From your spot on his chest, you pinch his thigh and he grumbles angrily. “No. He’s still stuck on Historia. Which I get it, she’s a good choice--granted, not as good as me, but a good choice nonetheless--but she’s in love with Ymir.” You sigh loudly, “I just need something to push him over the edge, you know?” You tilt your head, looking up at him. “And you? That crazy ex-girlfriend? She ever listen to you when you said you don’t like her anymore?”

Porco groans, “God, I wish she would, but no. She even asked if you and I were dating because she came over here and saw you leaving. How creepy is that?”

You laugh, “She thought we were dating? That’s laughable.” You hum quietly in thought. “You know--”

“Do not finish that thought,” Porco snaps. “You’re going to ask something like ‘what if we were’ or something.” His voice pitches higher to mock you. He can’t tell if the feeling of his stomach rolling is because of the disgust at the thought of dating his best friend or something else. He presses that thought down. “That only works in those fanfics you read.”

You sniff indignantly, “Don’t hate the fanfics because you don’t achieve the expectations and standards set within them, Porky.” He flicks your forehead in response and you roll your eyes, “Be careful, maybe I’m a masochist.”

You miss the way Porco’s eyes dilate at your comment. He turns his face to the TV, trying to clear his mind of your words. “I’m better than those fictional men,” he mumbles, slightly offended.

You laugh and he feels the way your body shakes against his. You gently poke him in the stomach, “I’m sure you are, Porky. Too bad you can’t prove your words since your pride won’t let you fake date me for mutual benefit.” The fluttering in your stomach belies the confidence you’re exuding.

There’s silence from Porco. He does this when he feels the conversation will annoy him. He surprises you by saying, “What does fake dating include?”

You clear your throat, “I mean...it’s dating but...fake. We can decide what that looks like if you’re genuinely interested.” You keep your cheek pressed against his chest. If you look at him now, the carefully constructed façade you’ve built will surely shatter. There was a time when building a friendship with Porco was a ruse; you wanted more than that. In getting to know him, you had all but forgotten that plan from so long ago. But sometimes...sometimes he worms his way into your heart again and you’re at a loss for a moment (or multiple moments).

“You said it was mutually beneficial,” he says by way of explanation. “You’re the one who has read all the fanfics, you tell me how it works.” He feels you grumbling against his chest at the mention of fanfics again. He ruffles your hair, “Come on, princess, how does it work?”

You hope he can’t feel the way your cheeks heat up at the pet name. Your guilty pleasure pet name of ‘princess’ falling so easily from his mouth really sends your body into disarray. “Well, in public, you act like a couple. Outside of the public eye, you can hate each other or be friends or whatever you would normally do. The fake dating is for appearances, you know? So for you, the benefit is that ex getting off your back. For me, it’s--”

“Reiner getting his head out of his ass,” Porco interrupts. He waves his hand leisurely, “Yeah, yeah that makes sense.” He goes silent and you can sense the way he has something to say. You look up at him from your spot against his chest and his cheeks are tinged pink. “Say, uh, do people usually ask questions about our sexual lives? What do we say to that?”

You choke, sitting up as you cough. Porco smacks a hand against your back, shouting apologies. You take a deep breath and stare at him. “Well...what do you want to say to that? I feel like...the people who are going to be asking that question know who you and I are as people. They would have made the assumption prior to asking.”

Porco’s earlier uneasiness clears and his arrogance is back. He smirks at you, “If you want me to fuck you, just say so.” He’s half joking. Or at least he thinks he is. He isn’t really sure at this moment.

You cock an eyebrow. The arrogance you two display always builds off one another. “If you want to fuck me, just say so. You’re the one who asked, aren’t you? You want this to be friends-with-benefits who are fake dating?” You lean forward, face close to his. You revel in the way he watches you with rapt attention. “Just say the word, it can be.”

He presses one of his large hands into your face, pushing you away. “You’re disgusting. Go away.” The half-hard cock in his pajama pants belies his words.

You pout at him, going back to your previous position. Both of you choose to ignore his cock that both of you can definitely feel pressing between you. “I’m not disgusting,” you grumble.

“That’s payback for saying fanfic men are better than me,” he retorts. He swallows the groan he was going to let out as your body rubs against his cock. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear you’re doing it on purpose. Porco grabs you by the shoulders, voice strained as he chokes out, “Stop. Moving. Like. That.” He should’ve known better than to show weakness to you. Mistake number one of the night. You’re like a lioness on the hunt, preying on the mistakes of your prey.

You hum, paying no attention to the grip he has on your shoulders. “Why? Am I so disgusting you can’t help but get hard at the thought of me?” You’re walking on thin ice, you know you are, and yet you’re doing it anyway. This is a line you cannot uncross. You don’t really have the mind to care, not when his cock was pressing against you.

Porco grinds his teeth together, “Stop playing around.”

“Is that any way to talk to your girlfriend, Porky,” you ask, looking up at him and fluttering your eyelashes. Mistake number two of the night. His pupils are dilated as he stares at you. He looks like he’s having an internal debate with himself. Your breath hitches at the sight and you turn your face away to rest your cheek back against his chest.

His hands slide beneath your armpits, pulling your body up higher until you are face-to-face with him. His warm breath fans across your face as you stare in surprise at him. “Nuh uh, princess. You don’t get to tease and get away with it.” You are slowly crossing a line, your toes at the edge of it, ready to run across.

You hate how breathless you sound when you say, “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it, Porco?” His actual name slips out of your mouth without thinking. No ‘Pock’ or ‘Porky’ to keep yourself in check. Mistake number three of the night.

Porco stares into your eyes and he takes one of your hands, sliding it between you until your hand rests against his cock. “You did that. Now you get to fix it.” Quicker than you can register, he wraps an arm around you, lifting you so he can get you on your back. He hovers over you, now slightly uncertain because of the position you’re in. It’s endearing the concern he has. Thinking that thought...mistake number four of the night. He presses his lips together and stares at you, “Are you...sure?”

There’s something about how sweet he is despite how desperate he just was that in turn makes you desperate as well. You grab him by the shirt, balling the fabric in your fist, “This is a friends-with-benefits, fake dating AU. Just fucking kiss me, you idiot.” Porco doesn’t have time to consider what ‘AU’ means before you tug him to you and press your lips together. Mistake number five.

The first thought you have is his lips are so soft. They explore yours gently, something that shouldn’t have surprised you, but did. You get to see Porco in a different light than everyone else; with you, he is open, vulnerable, something everyone else does not have the pleasure to experience. The way his lips roamed your own should not have been a surprise.

Porco is the one to run his tongue over your lips, seeking permission. The way he takes control is no surprise. He nips at your lip when you don’t grant him permission. “Come on, brat,” he mumbles against your mouth. “Quit playing hard-to-get.”

“You knew what you got into,” you tell him, nipping at his lip in retaliation. His hand slides down your body, slipping under the band of your sweatpants and panties. You gasp in surprise and he smirks against your lips, immediately shoving his tongue in your mouth. It’s sloppy but neither of you seem to mind the spit that gathers at the corners of your lips. His hand stays exactly where it was now that his trick worked.

You pull away from him, resting your forehead against his as you catch your breath. “Shit,” you mutter.

Porco smirks once more, “Better than the fanfic men?” He presses his lips to your jaw, using a hand to tilt your head back. “Since I’m real and not fictional, I’ll assume the answer is yes. What I will say is that, even though this whole agreement hinges on you scoring Reiner...I’ll give you the royal treatment, princess, which is too bad as it’ll ruin you for anyone else.” You flush once more at the pet name, but this time, Porco notices. A wicked grin comes over his features, “Aw, jeez, you’re a ‘princess’ kind of girl?” His lips ghost over your throat, lips gently brushing the skin, “Well, princess, enjoy the royal treatment, then.”

Porco’s hand slides further down into your pants, middle finger dipping between your folds first, seeking out your clit. His bites at your pulse point, feeling the way your heart is beating quickly at the predicament you’re in. Your hips buck up as he finds your clit and he smiles against the skin of your throat, “You somehow never shut up, but now is the time you decide to be quiet?”

You tug at the hem of his shirt, prompting him to take it off to distract yourself. You bite down on your lip and then blink slowly up at him, “Give me a reason to be loud and I will.” Porco stares at you for a moment before retracting his hand and pulling his shirt off, throwing it in a corner somewhere. Your hands immediately rove over the hard planes of his chest as he begins to remove your clothes.

He is in no rush as he gently slides your sweatpants down your legs. He swallows thickly at seeing your legs so bare and the wet spot in your panties. You sit up, tugging your shirt off and he blinks quickly. “You-you didn’t wear a bra? To my apartment?”

You give him a deadpan stare, “That’s your first comment, really? Not ‘oh wow, i want those in my mouth’ or ‘damn that’s what you hide under those sweatshirts’ for your first comment.”

Porco continues to stare at your chest and you clear your throat. His gaze snaps to your eyes. Mistake number six of the night. Your eyes are sparkling with the laughter and the teasing you’re giving him. And god, he could watch your eyes sparkle like the night sky until he went blind. Instead, he goes for an eloquent, “I do want them in my mouth.”

You laugh then, grabbing at the waist of his pants and pulling him forward, “Then do it, stupid. Do whatever you want to me.” That is all the clearance he needs. His reservations are dashed against the wall as you give him permission. You both have crossed a line, and you continue to run further from it. He takes a nipple in his mouth, tongue laving over it while his hand pinches and pulls on the other one. His teeth graze over your nipple and his cock twitches as you moan quietly.

His hand moves from your nipple to your mouth, thumb pressing between your lips. You part them, curious. Porco pulls away from your nipple for a moment so he can say, “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you when I ruin you.” Mistake number seven of the night. Your mouth sucks on his thumb and he removes it, shoving it in your panties and rubbing tight circles against your clit again.

Porco takes his time with you. Once he’s satisfied on one nipple, he moves to the other, sucking hickies into the skin surrounding it before letting his teeth graze over the sensitive nub. Your hips buck against his thumb so he obliges, letting his middle finger slide down to your hole, teasing the entrance with the tip of his finger. You whine, just like he was hoping you would.

“You’re so desperate, trying to fuck yourself on my finger,” he says quietly, moving off your breast and kissing down your sternum. “I should’ve known you were a little slut like this.” Porco takes your panties in his teeth, tugging them down. “Jeez, look at you making a mess in those panties,” he coos, voice slightly muffled by the fabric between his teeth.

You huff indignantly and stare at up at the ceiling, “Aren’t you going to fuck me?”

Porco cocks his head, “You haven’t cum yet, so no. Have patience, princess. I know you’re desperate for my cock, but I said I’d take care of you.” The surprise on your face gives him pause. “Has--have your other partners not...cared about making you cum?” You don’t answer and he sits back thoughtfully, thumb still rubbing at your clit. “Sit on my face,” he says simply.

You sputter, “What?” The thought of sitting on his face is daunting. “What if I--”

“Too heavy? I really don’t care,” he interrupts. “I refuse to fuck you until you’ve had at least one orgasm. So you can either sit on my face or get nothing at all.” He gestures to his face, “Your throne for the evening, princess. Take it or leave it.”

Porco knows you’ve conceded so he lays back on the couch. Gingerly, you crawl up his body until you’re nearly to his face. “Are you--”

Porco sighs in annoyance and grabs the back of your thighs, dragging you forward until your center is hovering over his face. His hands travel up the back of your thighs to your ass, squeezing at the flesh. “Lower,” he commands, voice husky with desire. “If you don’t lower yourself, I will do it for you.” You slowly lower yourself, feeling Porco’s hot breath against your wet cunt, his nose gently brushing your clit. “That’s my girl,” he coos, before flattening his tongue against you, rubbing his nose against your clit.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, grabbing at the back of the couch to keep yourself up. Sure, you had gotten head before, but Porco...Porco ate you out like it was a meal to a man starved. Your thighs pressed against his head as they began to shake around him. “P-Porco, please.”

Your plea goes straight to his cock that is straining uncomfortably against his pajama pants. He could barely hear you with the way your legs were pressed to his ears. He rubs his nose against your clit, looking up at you from between your legs. “Cum on my tongue, baby. Do it.” He calls you ‘baby’ without thinking. His mouth continues to work on you, eyes flicking up to look at you your eyes squeeze shut and mouth hangs agape. He could really cum from that alone.

You cum on his tongue and he laps it up, teasing your oversensitive nerves with languid swipes of his tongue. Your hand comes down to rest in his hair, gently scratching at his scalp as you catch your breath. “Have you been tested,” you ask. Probably a bit late for that thought since you just came on his tongue.

“Yeah, why,” Porco says, still beneath you. “I have condoms.” Very quickly, you shimmy your body down his, moving off his face. He props himself up on his elbows, “What are you--”

You don’t give him time to complete his thought, standing up to remove his pants and briefs. “I do not care that you have condoms. Right now, I need…” you pause, giggling. “I need Pock cock.”

Porco stares at you, “You’re so stupid. You are talking about my penis. You are telling me that you desperately want my cock. And you call it Pock cock?!” He runs a hand through his hair, sitting up. “I haven’t-I haven’t even prepped you. Let me do that.”

You grab him by the shoulders, shifting his body so his back is against the back of the couch. “No.” Porco sputters as you kneel, hole positioned above him. You hum thoughtfully, “It’ll be a stretch.” You lean forward, mouth by his ear so you can whisper, “Just tell me I’m a good girl while I do it and I promise it’ll be fine, baby.” You use the term of endearment almost mockingly, a callback to earlier when he had used it. Mistake number eight of the night.

Porco has to restrain himself from thrusting into you right then. He groans, throwing his head back, “Fuck. You can’t just say shit like that.” His hands slide down your body, resting at your hips. “Are you sure it’ll be--” he doesn’t finish the thought. You press yourself down on his cock, your warmth enveloping him as you stretch around him. He’s thick, and you whine softly as you move down his length. 

Porco remembers what you told him. Of course you would have a praise kink. He digs his thumbs into the flesh at your hip, “Fuck. You-you’re doing--shit--taking me so well, look at you, baby.” You’re almost fully around him, so he wraps his arms around you, gently pressing his hips up to meet you. You moan, chin resting on his shoulder. Porco presses his lips to your jaw, then gently nibbles at your earlobe as you adjust. “It’s like you were made for this cock, baby. You feel-fuck, you feel so good.”

You roll your hips against him, both of you letting out moans at the action. You don’t often take the initiative to ride someone. You’re in charge, you set the pace, but it hits a very good spot for you. But you’d be damned if you didn’t get to watch Porco fall apart this time.

Porco should’ve known that you’d be a fucking tease. You rode him without any urgency, rolling your hips and bouncing on him at varying paces, paces that edged him. He was a mess beneath you; his head was tilted back against the couch, and your hips were sure to bruise with how hard he was holding you.

“Fuck this,” he growls, bringing his head forward to look at you. His hand goes up to your throat, gently squeezing the sides, “You want to be a little tease? You want to edge me? Nuh uh, not anymore.” He wraps an arm around you, twisting you so your back is on the couch as he hovers over you. “You were so desperate for my cock earlier. Well now you’re going to get it.”

A strangled gasp escapes you as he pulls out, thrusting harshly back in. His thumb goes down between your bodies, rubbing against your clit. “You cum first, you’re ordering the pizza for dinner,” he says before pounding into you. Porco is merciless, thumb stimulating you as his cock brushes your g-spot at the same time. It doesn’t help that he’s whispering absolute filth into your ear as well. “Look at you, taking my cock so well. Bet you’d like me to fill you up like the little cumslut you are.”

You cum first, clamping down around his cock. Porco slows his thrusts, trying not to overstimulate you as you come down from your high. And fuck, the way you’re squeezing his cock like you want to keep it buried in you, he almost stays there. He pulls out, reveling in the whimper you make. “Sorry baby, but I’m gonna fill that mouth up. Maybe having it full can keep you from being such a brat.”

Porco nearly cums on the spot at the way you open your mouth, tongue out, staring at him through your lashes. He pumps his cock in his fist, pushing himself right to the edge before pressing his cock into your mouth to thrust a few times. He cums down your throat, moaning quietly as your tongue rolls over his cock, cleaning it off.

You pull off his cock, swiping at the corner of your mouth, “What kind of pizza do you want?”

Porco slides into the booth next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You, Porco, and Reiner were at a party, but decided to take a moment to relax. Reiner cocks an eyebrow at the two of you, “Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long.”

Porco chuckles, “What can I say, my princess likes to play hard-to-get.” His other hand rests on your thigh, gently kneading circles into the skin.

“Princess,” Reiner repeats the pet name. It doesn’t have the same effect coming from Reiner as it does coming from Porco. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad one. “What brought this on?”

You shrug, sipping at your drink, “It just kind of happened. I mean, we were friends before we started dating so it just kind of...progressed.”

Porco remembers the whole reason for the fake dating arrangement in the first place. The reason is sitting right across from them at the booth. Porco presses a kiss to your cheek--to keep up appearances of course--and flicks your forehead affectionately, “I’m heading to the bathroom. Be right back.”

You nod, continuing your conversation with Reiner. Porco heads towards the bathroom, rounding the corner and then standing there to watch. He watches the way you laugh at something Reiner says. He knows that your eyes are sparkling like they always do. He hears you snort when you laugh, butterflies erupting in his stomach. It is then that he knows this arrangement was doomed from the start. That night you had agreed on it--the night you two had had sex--he should have known. He plays it back in his head often, counting the mistakes that should have indicated that this was a fool’s errand. There were eight of them.

Reiner’s hand reaches across the table and rests on top of yours as he says something earnestly. Porco wants to walk back then, to interrupt the moment, but he doesn’t. This was the goal in the first place, after all.

You laugh at what Reiner says, his hand slightly clammy on top of yours. You hope the laugh is genuine. You pull your hand out from under his, using it to hold your glass and take a drink. Your phone buzzes on the table. You snort at the message, seeing it is from Porco. Reiner tries to be inconspicuous as he looks at the screen.

Took your hand away pretty fast, princess. Isn’t that what you wanted? Your stomach flips. In the beginning, that was the goal.

His hand is clammy. You send your text, setting your phone down. You nod at something Reiner says.

Porco stares at his phone screen, your explanation for why you had pulled away staring back at him. He can’t help but feel this is a small victory, but he isn’t sure why. Oh, not warm like mine as they caress your skin? He sends the text, watching you for your reaction. The flush on your exposed shoulders makes him chuckle. Got ya all hot and bothered, right there in front of the guy you’re supposed to be making jealous. Wonder if he thinks that pretty blush is for him? Porco pockets his phone, strolling back to the booth like he didn’t just send the text that he did.

“Took you long enough,” you say, “Did you make sure to give a courtesy spray after you took a shit?” Reiner’s eyebrows shoot up so fast, you’re worried they might shoot off his forehead.

“So vulgar,” Porco chides. “Wanna go dance, princess?” His fingers dance up your thighs, teasing the edge of your skirt and heading back down your legs, only to repeat the sequence.

“Sure, dear,” you respond. A furrow appears in Reiner’s brows, but he doesn’t comment on the slight tension in your shoulders.

Porco grabs your hand, dragging you to the dance floor. He tugs on your hips, pulling you against him so your back is against his chest. His mouth is right by your ear. “Such a shame he had clammy hands,” Porco whispers. “You could be dancing with ol’ Reiner Braun instead of me right now, just like you wanted.”

You hum, playing along with his game--it’s just a game, right?--and press your ass against his crotch as you dance. “How bad would that make me look? Coming with my boyfriend and grinding on someone else? I could never, that would be...naughty of me.”

“Could have had me fooled, little slut,” he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe. You shiver against him. “Bet if I asked, Reiner wouldn’t mind joining us. Would you want that?”

“Actually,” you drawl, “I’d like to blow your brains out. In the hot way, not with a gun.” Porco can’t help the throb in his cock at your words. The guy you were intent on getting when this arrangement started was within your grasp, yet here you were...wanting him instead. Is this what it’s like being in too deep?

“Then don’t flirt with him,” Porco growls. “Not when you and I have this. Not when it’s my name you moan almost every night.” Neither of you can tell if he’s serious.

The next opportunity to make Reiner jealous happens a few days later. Porco invites him over to watch movies. He also invites Bertholdt so Reiner doesn’t feel like a third wheel. Without thinking, you and Porco stretch out on the couch like you normally do for movie nights. Porco realizes there is only one couch and the two of you scramble to make room for Reiner and Bertholdt.

Porco pulls you into his lap to make more space. The four of you watch a few movies before getting tired. Porco offers the couch and makes a pallet for Reiner and Bertholdt. “There’s only two spots,” Reiner says dumbly. “Isn’t y/n sleeping out here with us?”

Porco shrugs, “That’s up to her. She can sleep with me or you two.”

“Well I hope I’d want to sleep with my boyfriend,” you say with a laugh. “Sorry Reiner, Berty.” The two of them shrug, debating on who is going to sleep where. The door to Porco’s room shuts softly behind you.

Porco is sitting on the bed, staring at you. “Shouldn’t you want to sleep out there with them?”

You shrug, getting into bed beside him, “I wasn’t wrong. Wouldn’t it be weird if I slept with two men who aren’t my boyfriend?” You’re making excuses now. The clammy hand? That was laughable. This one was at least believable and valid. This plan wasn’t going at all like it was supposed to. The fanfics should’ve been indicative of that.

Third time's the charm, Porco thinks to himself. He hopes it isn’t as he leans against a wall, watching you talk to Reiner. You shiver--it’s a bit cold outside--and Reiner offers you his jacket. You take it. Porco feels a crack in his heart. It’s just cold outside.

You laugh at something Reiner says--Porco hates when you do that because he loves the way your eyes sparkle and he wants to keep that for himself. Only because I’m the funniest person I know, no one else deserves the sparkles of laughter in your eyes when they aren’t funny like me. He watches you hold up a finger to Reiner and then pull your phone from your pocket.

His phone buzzes immediately in his pocket. That wasn’t even funny. Also his jacket smells like lavender. Help. You again laugh at something Reiner says, a hand reaching out to slap at his arm. Porco shoves his phone in his pocket, ready to go over and interrupt. He tells himself it’s only because you hate the smell of lavender. It gives you a headache.

Porco strolls up, “Oh, hey babe. Were you cold? Here, take my jacket so Reiner can have his back.” You immediately take Reiner’s off, thanking him and then wrapping yourself in Porco’s jacket. “Let me see if there’s a blanket around here, I’ll be back.” It smells like leather and mint and bergamot and you take a deep inhale as Porco walks away. Only to get rid of the lavender.

Reiner says something to you that you don’t hear. He repeats it. “Are you happy with him?” The question takes you off guard. “Because...because I thought that...I thought that you might have liked me. And then you two started dating. So I just...I want to make sure you’re happy.”

Porco hears the question. He’s not far enough away and Reiner has never been good at talking quietly. Porco grabs a blanket from the stack. Pieck was always prepared; a bonfire and blankets seemed counterintuitive, but here you were freezing. Porco takes his time.

“Yeah,” you respond. “I am.” It’s simple. Someone else might think you aren’t genuine, but not Porco. You answered without hesitation and with clear strength behind the words. Porco isn’t sure if it’s the cold or his beating heart that causes him to shiver.

Reiner smiles at you, “I’m glad. I’ll see you around then.” He excuses himself, leaving you to ponder what just happened. You hadn’t even thought about your answer. But this wasn’t real. Your mind is racing as you stare at the space Reiner had just occupied.

A blanket wraps around you and Porco’s mouth is by your ear. “Do the people in the fanfics always catch feelings? Maybe you should’ve warned me that could happen to us,” Porco whispers. His hands rub at your arms that are swathed in his jacket and a blanket. You aren’t sure what you can say right now. He heard. He could tell. He knows.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper softly, looking at the ground and glaring at your feet as if they’re the ones who caught feelings.

“Sorry?” Porco walks around so he is in front of you. “For what? Falling love with me? It’s not hard to do, I understand.” You snort and roll your eyes. He grips your chin, tilting your head up. Porco is smiling at you when you look at him. “That’s my sassy girl.”

You cock your head, “Who said anything about falling in love? I think you mentioned it because that’s how you feel.” The conversation gives you deja vu to the conversation that happened before this arrangement was made. When you joked about having sex.

“That’s why I said it, sweetheart. And that’s why I said ‘my sassy girl’,” Porco replies. He flicks your forehead, “Emphasis is placed on the word my because you are mine and no one else’s. Is that enough of an explanation for you?”

“It will have to do for now,” you reply, eyes sparkling with contained laughter as you tease him to exasperation. “You can explain it more when we get home.” You take his hand, dragging him to the chairs set up around the bonfire. Porco can’t help but think back to the night that started all this. He had called his decisions mistakes and counted them one-by-one each time he replayed that night in his head. He supposed mistakes happen, but nothing was a mistake when it came to you.

[barnesbabee]

[B]reeding Kink || C.S

[ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴇɴᴄʏᴄʟᴏᴘᴇᴅɪᴀ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ʙ]

Summary: He broke into your house, and now he’s breaking you. (it's not fucking consentual non-con it's just inmate!San istg)

Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Words: my fairy godmother said it was 4311 words

Genre: Smut

⚠ mention of drugs, breeding kink, mentions of blood, mentions of violence, inmate!San ⚠

  You woke up with loud banging on your door. It was so sudden, you didn’t know what time it was, what was happening, or where you were. It took you a quick second to scan your surroundings. 

    It was 2am, or so said the clock on your bedside table, and you were sitting up in your bed, startled and confused about the booming sound echoing through your house.

    You got up from the bed and hurriedly wrapped your robe around your body, however, just as you were getting to the living room to look through the peephole, the door burst open. You covered your mouth with your hand to prevent any noise from coming out and hid behind the sofa, praying to whatever wanted to help you that he hadn’t seen you.

    You closed your eyes tightly and started breathing heavily as you heard the loud footsteps roam around your house. 

    It was hard to breathe and you felt as if someone was pressing on your chest. 

    You opened your eyes slowly and peeked behind the couch. You could see a man… His appearance wasn’t clear as the whole place was dark, the only thing illuminating the room being the moon. He had a broad back and dark hair, that you noticed, and he wore heavy, black boots, that left a trail of dirt wherever he walked. 

   Who was he? What did he want? Why was he in your apartment?

   You hid back and waited until you could no longer hear him.

    The silence of his steps felt unsettling… Your chest rose and fell rapidly, and it took all of the courage you had to peek around the couch once more. 

    However, this time you were met with a man’s face. He wore a wide, Cheshire Cat-like smile on his face as he stared right at you. You could almost feel his warm breath hit your face…

    “Hello, doll!” 

    You opened your mouth to scream but the male was faster. He slapped his hand over your face, preventing you from yelling for help or anything of the sort. 

    The male approached his lips to your ears.

   “I’m gonna need your help doll…”

   You took a look at his appearance. He had on a white, stained, and slightly ripped wife-beater, along with a flashy orange jumpsuit. You examined his body carefully. His hair was damp and his inked, very well-built arms were shiny, he had been running. You were inspecting everything as carefully as you possibly could.. when you noticed.

     Was that blood!? 

     There were little spots and splatters of dried, red liquid all over his clothes, which made you widen your eyes. What the fuck had he done!? 

     He noticed your sudden change of emotions and realized you had seen the state of his clothes.

     “Listen, I don’t wanna hurt you. I need you to hide me, I’ll explain everything but you’re not in danger, yet.”

     The ‘yet’ at the end of his sentence sparked something in you and you began struggling under his hold. He gripped your arm and forced you to stop shifting.

    “Calm. Down. You’re not in danger, but if you call the police on me, if you yell for help, you will be. All you have to do is be a good girl and cooperate, because if anything goes wrong, all you need to know is that there are eight of us, if I get caught it won’t be looking too pretty for you.”

    You looked at him, eyes still widened and breathing very heavily.

    “You got it?” He asked.

     He slowly removed his hand from your mouth and placed it on his thigh. You were full-on crying in fear at that point. 

    The male said nothing, he just sighed and ran his hand through his sweaty hair. He also didn’t know what to do. He had no idea where the other seven were, he had no idea if they were still alive and he honestly didn’t know what happened next.

    “Y-you should take a shower.” You told him, as you finally felt the reek coming from him. 

   He looked down at himself and nodded. The male stood up and looked at you.

   “I can’t trust you though.”

   “W-what then? You’re just going to stink forever? Are you going to make me sit in the bathroom while you wash?”

   You were just mocking him, but from the way he shrugged you could tell he didn’t mind one bit to have you in the bathroom with him. You refused at first, but you didn’t really have much choice as he dragged you around looking for the bathroom.

    You sat on the toilet, facing the wall as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

    “I can’t believe you’re okay with this.” You complained. 

   “I was in prison, doll, I had hundreds of men looking at my ass every day when I showered, having a girl in a bathroom with me isn’t exactly a nightmare.”

    You were both silent. The sound of the water hitting the floor echoed in the room and the water was so hot that the atmosphere around you two became foggy. 

    “Fuck, this is heaven…”

    You would’ve chuckled if you weren’t so scared and uncomfortable.

    “You know, we have warm water in there, but there are so many people taking showers at the same time so it just ends up being cold all the time. The showerheads are also really old, so they get clogged all the time and there’s barely any water coming out… You come out looking mustier than when you went in.”

    You smiled at that. You could tell he was a people person, he was comfortable enough in this situation to tell life stories and maybe that was the purpose, but you started slowly feeling a little at ease. So much so that you gained the courage to ask the question you were scared of. 

    “What were you in there for?”

    You had to know. You couldn’t have a conversation with him, you couldn’t not feel uncomfortable and uneasy without at least knowing. 

    There was silence, and the water turned off.

    “Murder.”

    Your eyes widened from the nth time that night and you felt all blood be drained from your body. The sense of fear and anxiety washed over you once more, and you didn’t know how to react. Should you run? Should you stay? Should you speak, or should you be quiet? 

    A little childish giggle sounded in the bathroom almost forcing you to look behind. He pulled the shower curtain to the side, and although this man was naked from head to toe right in front of you, your eyes were glued to his face. The giggling was creepy, you hated it.

    “I’m joking, I went in for drug abuse and distribution.”

    You took a deep, shaky breath and closed your eyes, letting your head fall forward. You shed a couple of tears out of stress and relief. 

    “You… fucking idiot.” You cursed at him, still feeling a little lightheaded.

    He giggled once more and wrapped a towel around his waist, after roaming about the bathroom looking for one.

    “Why… Did you have blood all over you then?” 

    He pointed at his abdomen, where a deep cut that your eyes had completely missed stood.

   “It was mine. Mostly… Listen escaping prison isn’t that easy and there’s trap wire and people shooting, if you’re not bleeding it’s because you’re Michael Scofield, and sadly we’re all kind of stupid.”

  Although he moved like the wound didn’t hurt, you couldn’t help but worry about it. You pointed at the ripped flesh.

  “Can I… Can I fix it for you?”

  He cocked his head to the side as he looked at you, silently questioning himself as to why you would want to help him. He shrugged, nevertheless. He wasn’t about to decline help…

   “I’d like that.”

    He tied the towel tighter around his hips so it wouldn’t fall, and sat down on the toilet you were previously resting on. You reached for the cabinet over the sink and took the medical supplies from it.

   “This is going to hurt a bit so just, distract yourself by telling me about you.”

   The male scoffed at your words.

   “I’ve been to prison, I don’t think I’ll be hurt by- oh f-fuck!”

   You giggled at his little curse as you pressed the gauze with hydrogen peroxide against his wounded skin.

   He rested his head against the wall and flexed his abdomen.

   “O-okay so, my name is San I’ve been in there for 2 years and- fucking Hell go easy on me!”

  You giggled and mumbled a soft ‘sorry’ as you listened to his stories. You tried very hard to focus on your job, but your eyes would sometimes wander around his torso and covered thighs.

  “I uh, I started selling drugs when I was eighteen, I got thrown out of the orphanage and my little sister came with me, and I wanted to make good money so she could go to university.” he paused for a second, wincing as you switched products “It was fine for a while, I made some friends there which was nice. I never really had friends, cause I kept moving from the orphanage to foster houses back and forth, so I never stayed in one place long enough to make lasting friendships… B-but it didn’t go so well cause I got caught in a swoop and the eight of us went in.”

  When he finished the story you had no idea what to say… You felt a little bad about what he had just told you. 

   “I’m sorry…”

   “It’s fine, life isn’t always kind. Plus,” he stopped to grab your chin and bring your gaze up to his “I never said I was a good person, doll. I just said I was tryna get my sister to a better place.” 

   You stared into his eyes for a second, before snapping back to reality. You stood up and mumbled something along the lines of ‘I’ll get you some clothes’ as you walked off.

  Some of your larger garments fit him quite well. A pair of large, black joggers and a yellow hoodie that looked stupidly big on you. He had to go commando however, since you didn’t happen to have a pair of boxers lying around.  

   You set up the couch for him to sleep in as you weren’t about to give up your bed for an inmate that had just broken in, but he seemed pretty content in the comfort of your couch. 

    “You sure you don’t need some company in there, doll?” 

    You chuckled at his bold attempt and pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek. 

    “Yes San, I’d rather keep the convict at least one hallway away.” You joked.

    Although you felt a little more comfortable around him, knowing that he wasn’t 100% a scumbag, you couldn’t let your guard down. 

    Your theory was proven when you woke up not much later after you fell asleep with a shadow looking straight at you from the doorway. Not remembering that you had a guest, you yelled. 

    He immediately came rushing to your side and shut you up with his hand.

   “Why did you scream!?” San asked, panicking.

   You removed his hand from your face harshly.

   “Because a huge shadow man was standing in my doorway like a lunatic! What are you doing!?” 

  “It’s… It’s 7am I’m hungry.”

 You shot daggers at him through your sleepy, hooded eyes.

  “Do you not sleep?”

   “Not really…  We have a lot of sleep deprivation in there.”

   Somehow he had this habit of making you do things by making you feel bad. And this was no exception. 

   You groaned and dragged yourself off of the bed, feeling kind of embarrassed about how terrible you looked compared to him. Although his hair was messy, it still made him look good, as it further defined his jawline.

  You didn’t know what he wanted to eat, so you just pointed at your cabinets and began teaching him what was inside of each of them.

   As you did all of this, you realized how often he’d brush his dark locks back, in order to get them out of his face. You looked at your wrist and surely enough there was a spare hair tie on it. You offered it to San, who gladly accepted the item and tied his hair in a small ponytail.

  You started walking back to your bedroom, to resume your interrupted sleep, but a pertinent question popped in your mind, and sleep was no longer your biggest preoccupation.

   You turned around and walked back to the kitchen, to find San shoving his hand down the cereal box and eating it dry.

    “San… What’s your plan here? I mean, in the long run. You can’t just crash in my sofa forever.”

    The male in question looked at you, a suggestive gaze playing in his eyes.

   “I can always crash on your bed.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you as he said this.

   “I’m serious, San. This can be really problematic for me! Do you realize the trouble this could put me in? If someone finds out you’re here I’ll have so many legal complications! I’m on the fourth floor, why did you even choose my apartment!?”

   San went quiet for a second and looked at the floor.

   “You’re the 69th apartment…” He replied quietly.

   You rolled your eyes and turned around, stressed out about his response, while rubbing your temples.

  Before you could get very far, however, the man grabbed your wrist and made you turn around.

   “You’re right, I’m sorry… We agreed to meet up in an abandoned building a couple blocks down from where we lived. We needed to lay low for at least a couple of hours. I got lucky I managed to lose the coppers, but I don’t know about them…”

    He had sat down by the dining table and buried his head in his hands. For some reason, 

you felt as if you should comfort him, so you approached the male softly and pet his head slowly.

    “I can try to help with the smaller things!”

    But little did you know that that statement would soon come back to bite you in the ass, when you came home later in the day, after your very tiring night shift, and found eight very big men sitting around your living room, just chatting it up as if it was their own house.

    Ignoring the possibly dangerous men sprawled on your floor and couch, you closed the door and walked towards San.

    “What… The fuck.” You said through gritted teeth, trying to remain calm.

    “Well, you said you could help with the smaller things, and that side of the town was flooding with cops looking for us, so I figured we could come here to lay low!” He said, gesturing to his friends.

    You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply. 

    “When I said small things I meant maybe food or warm water to shower with. I didn’t mean I’d be the shelter for eight hooligans!”

    “What did you just call us?” One of them calmly asked. 

   You looked behind San to face the bleached haired male, who had a mixture of angry and offended on his face. It suddenly hit you that all of these escapee inmates were in your house, staring at you as you insulted them, and nervous tears started brimming in your eyes.

    “I-I’m sorry Sir, but you are sitting on my rug and you came from jail I think I’m entitled to be upset right now.” You told him, holding up your index finger.

     “Listen I’m sorry but overstaying my welcome-”

     “Oh, you think you’re overstaying!?” 

    Already sick of your snappy attitude, San gripped your arm and pushed you back against the wall, causing you to wince and drop your keys. His face was millimeters away from yours, so close you could feel his breath on you.

    “Listen doll, I don’t think anybody wants eight wanted criminals in their living room but you don’t have a choice, okay!? Neither of us would be here if we had a better choice but we fucking don’t, so why don’t you make this easier for all of us and cooperate?”

    You had no choice but to nod, as you swallowed nervously. San let go of you and sighed, disappointed that he had to resource to violence.

   There was an awkward silence, that the male you had known the longest felt the obligation to fill. 

    “So, uhm, these are my friends… “ He said and began introducing them one by one.

    Some of the men remained expressionless, only giving you a nod as a greeting, while a couple smiled politely and the rest chimed a small ‘hello’. 

   “Did you… All go in for the same thing?”

   “Friendship goals, right?” The male you now knew to be named Mingi said, stealing a smile out of you. 

   There was the heavy silence again… And you searched deep in your head for what could solve the awkwardness.

    “Are you guys hungry? I don’t have enough food here but I could go out and buy some chicken. I don’t think it’s safe to have people deliver.”

    They all agreed and so you went on your way, to buy food for all the unwanted guests. It was probably a bad idea to go out on your own and carry all this chicken and alcohol (that you bought hoping that the eight men would become bubblier and less threatening after consuming it) but you still thought that was a better scenario than being caught in public with a wanted criminal. So after about forty-five minutes of struggling, you managed to get into the house with three huge bags: two for the chicken and one for the drinks. 

    Their eyes all lit up once you stepped foot inside of the house and suddenly they resembled little kids. The men instantly attacked the food, proceeding to hurriedly unwrap the chicken.

    “Damn Y/N, were you in jail too?” San asked when he saw you hungrily devour the food. It seemed like you too hadn’t eaten anything that good in years.

    You quickly flipped him off and continued eating. 

  Your speculations were correct, and as the empty alcohol bottles started piling up, the room started echoing with happy chatter and laughter. 

   All of the stress and panic about the situation started washing off from them as the hours passed by and you had to admit, hadn’t they been wanted criminals you wouldn’t have minded being a part of their odd friend group.

    “H-hey Y/N, you should sit here, it’s more comfortable.” San joked with a sly smirk, as he patted his lap.

     “Keep trying, lover boy.” You told him as you rolled your eyes.

     San then placed his hands around your waist and pulled you to sit on his lap, keeping a slight grip on your body, soft enough for you to leave if you were uncomfortable. 

    “Was this a good enough try, doll?” He whispered in your ear.

    You said nothing, and your silence made him chuckle as he pulled you back, until your back hit his chest. Somehow he was right. It did feel more comfortable… And maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that San was actually insanely hot, but all of the tension left in your body evaporated, and you felt yourself melt into his touch. 

    All of the sounds started fading into the background and you didn’t even acknowledge the rest of the boys, as all you could feel was the way San was drawing shapes on your thighs with his long fingers, and how you wanted them a little farther up your body. You pressed your thighs against each other, and this action didn’t go unnoticed by San, who squeezed them tighter in his hold and groaned in your ear. 

    You could feel a hard-on beginning to form in San’s pants, as it began poking your ass. You shifted in his lap, causing his boner to harden by the second. He gripped his waist tighter and pressed you down on his growing problem. 

     “I really want you, doll, I think you want me too…” He whispered in your ear. 

     “You’re imagining things San.” 

      He rolled his hips up and held you in place, so you could feel every curve of his fully hardened member press against you. Of course he noticed the way you inhaled shakily and giggled. Giggled. 

     San was indeed an intriguing person…

     He kissed a couple of spots on your neck, and bit down on an area he found softer, managing to steal a small whimper out of you. 

     A couple of heads turned towards you and they smirked, acknowledging what was happening, but not wanting to bother or steal the moment away. They turned their attention back to the other men, leaving you two isolated once more. 

    “Please, let me fuck you, doll… I wanna feel how well you clench around me. Will you let me do that?”

    Your mind was clouded by pleasure and curiosity, and so you stood up and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards your bedroom, not even bothering to give him a verbal response.

    The second the male heard the door click, he pushed you against it with his body and smashed his lips against yours. His hands were obsessed with your hips and thighs, constantly squeezing them as you grinded against his crotch. 

     He tapped the back of your legs and you wrapped them around him. San carried you to the bed as if you were made of feathers, and even though his tongue was harsh against yours, the way he let you down on the bed was soft.

      The two of you only pulled away when the confinement of your clothes started becoming unbearable. You peeled the work clothes (that you had never changed from) hastily from your body. San undressed just as quickly, and he couldn’t believe his view. After all that time being incarcerated he managed to have someone so good looking so willing to fuck him… He smirked and slapped your thighs, proceeding to grab them as he kissed your jaw, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach, only stopping when his lips were dangerously close to a place you’d be wishing for him to touch you. He stopped and looked up at you. God, he wished he could take a picture of you right now… All jittery and messy, needy and aching for his touch. 

   "F-Fuck San, please!“ You begged, finally, when the teasing became too much. 

   "Anythin’ for you, doll." 

  He teased your entrance with his tongue before entering two fingers, as to prepare you for what was to come. San squeezed and bit your thighs as his fingers entered you in a high speed. 

    "Oh my G-God, San- I want you in me." 

    He groaned at your neediness, and shoved the fingers that had previously been in you past your lips. 

    You maintained eye contact as you sucked slowly on his digits.

    San lined up his cock with your entrance and pushed into you slowly, causing you to wince slightly and bite his fingers. 

    The male immediately removed his hand and moved both his hands to rest on your waist. 

    "Y-you okay, doll?” He asked, afraid he’d hurt you. 

    "Yes- yes, move…" 

     San bottomed out inside you with a loud groan. He didn’t move for a second, trying to take in how tight you were and how good he felt. And even though he tried to hold back by starting to thrust into you slowly, he soon lost control. His hips snapped against yours uncontrollably fast and neither of you cared if the moans and whimpers could be heard in the next room. 

    "S-shit, look at you doll, taking my cock like a good girl-“ 

     You gripped his arms, digging your nails into his skin, loving the way he talked to you. 

    Something about seeing all of those artworks in san’s body made you feel more attracted to the male. 

   "You feel so good inside me Sannie.”

    The pet name and the little praise caused his cock to twitch inside of you, and you could tell he was almost there, by the sloppiness of his thrusts. 

    You wanted to see what he looked like in pure lust, you wanted to do the dirtiest things with this man, his sinful figure bigging out someone you didn’t even know you had in you. 

     "I-I need to cum doll, where do you want me to-“ 

    "Inside me! Please, please cum inside me San!” You begged as you clung onto him for dear life. 

    His cock twitched once more, and he looked at you with a mix of surprise and lust in his eyes. 

    "Y/N are you sure cause-“ 

    "Fucking breed me, San! I want your cum dripping out of me, please!" 

   The intensity of his thrusts increased as did the grip he had on you. 

    "You want me to breed you? Hm? Make you mine forever? Turn you into a bad girl for me? Y-you’re so dirty…”

   "Y-yes! God yes!“ 

    "Oh f-fuck!” Was the last thing he managed to yell as he buried his member deep inside of you, shooting white spurts of cum that covered your walls. 

    It was the way his body trembled and the way his mouth fell open with small whimpers that caused you to climax right after him. 

   His sweaty body collapsed on top of yours as he slowly pulled out, and you could feel the cum drip out of your hole. 

   For a couple of seconds all that could be heard was the heavy panting, until San lifted his head and looked at you. 

    "Fuck, I guess you belong to me now…“

[realcube]

jealous haikyuu!! boys

summary: the haikyuu!! boys getting jealous over you talking to a boy but as it turns out, that boy is in fact your relative 

characters: third year gym squad (lev, hinata, bokuto, kuroo, tsukishima & akaashi)

thank you to anon for this sweet request! 💖

(y/n) = your name

(b/n) = brother’s name

tw// sexual references, swearing

Lev Haiba 

he was already in a sour mood from practise bc kenma, kuroo & yaku had all ganged up on him so he was getting beat left, right & centre 

so he was feeling extra confrontational when he laid eyes on you laughing and chatting with some other guy, in the spot where you usually stand and wait for him after practise 

he was so mad >:( 

like he just had a shitty day at school and now some punk was trying to flirt with you- and you didn’t seem to be uncomfortable either 

DOES HIS SUFFERING KNOW NO END?! 😩😭

grrr like he had spent 90% of the day looking forward to seeing you and now you were talking to some other guy like he didn’t even exist :( 

a part of him knew that he was being overdramatic but the other part of him was like ‘all feelings are valid, lev. 💕💖💗’

like he literally worked so hard to be the best boyfriend possible and this guy thought he could just swoop in and steal your heart??? without even letting you braid his hair yet??? 

yeah, lev had spent too much money on cat keychains to lose you this far into the game 

also he loves you pls don’t leave him rn (y/n) 😭

so he marched up to you with a frown, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on the back just like he usually does as a greeting, ‘hi, babe.’ he murmured.

your attention immediately shifted onto your boyfriend and you automatically pouted upon seeing his glum expression, ‘hiya. are you okay, hun? rough day at scho--’

he held your hand by his lips and muttered from behind your knuckles, ‘who’s this?’ he inquired, vaguely gesturing to your brother

‘oh, lev! this is my brother! i don’t think y’all have met yet.’

lev blinked rapidly at what you just said, ‘brother? like- male sibling.’

you nodded while simultaneously quirking an eyebrow at his need for clarification at the simplest piece of information, ‘yes. my male sibling.’

lev let out a heavy sigh of relief as his lips curled into a smile, softening his grip on your hand, allowing you to pull it away, ‘ah, okay.’

then he turned to your brother and stuck out his hand, ‘nice to mee-- you don’t look anything like (y/n).’ he chirped, all trances of sadness leaving his face - it was kinda creepy how quickly he was able to do that 

model tingz

your brother shrugged, ‘yeah.’ he hastily took lev’s hand, giving it a firm shake before turning on his heels, ‘i should really get going now, bye!’ he called out before rushing off, quite intimidated by the fact you had a skyscraper for a boyfriend 

lev turned to you, a warm smile now gracing his features

‘uh, where did all your gloom go? you looked miserable just a few seconds ago!’ you inquired, playfully poking his cheek

lev shrugged, poking your forehead in retaliation, ‘i don’t know. i’m here with you now so i guess i don’t have a reason to be sad.’ he said nonchalantly, forgetting the fact he had gotten the results for his midterms today and he had failed maths horribly

but who need maths when you’re a model yk?

Shōyō Hinata

bruh- hinata didn’t even notice you were talking to someone UIEFGBVFE

once practise was over he literally just ran up and threw himself at you 

he has selective vision, he only sees the things he wants to see and rn, all he wants to see you under the moonlight 🥺

so he wraps you in a hug and peppers your face in kisses just like he usually does when he greets you after practise

then he noticed that there was some guy standing next to you, aggressively tapping your shoulder to request your attention even though hinata was clearly trying to tell you about his day at practise 

he unintentionally scowled at the boy before cocking his head to the side and asking, ‘who are you?’ 

although this tone of voice didn’t seem too nasty; given the context - accompanied by the sour look on his face - the question seemed to have threatening undertones

you’re brother blinked rapidly before uttering, ‘i’m (b/n).’

he continued to stare daggers at the guy, ‘what do you want from (y/n)?’

‘the maths homework answers.’ your brother chuckled, continuing to playfully poke your shoulder until hinata swatted his hand away

‘she doesn’t owe you an--’

you were extremely confused as to why hinata took up such a serious demeanour but then you realised that he had never met your brother before, so hinata probably thought there was just some creepy harassing you for the homework answers

although you were charmed by your boyfriend’s attempts to be ‘scary’ for you, you still felt the need to intervene

‘oh, shōyō. that’s my brother, by the way.’ you hummed, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck

both your brother and your boyfriend slowly turned their heads to look at you, sharing the same dumbfounded look

‘your brother?!’ hinata exclaimed while your brother now looked rather offended, ‘you didn’t tell your boyfriend about me- rude!’

to be fair, your one year anniversary with shōyō was approaching so you feel foolish about not telling him about your brother sooner- it’s just that it never really crossed your mind

‘i’m fucking leaving.’ (b/n) spat, turning on his heels; trying to make it seem like he was storming out because he was upset that you hadn’t mentioned him to your boyfriend but in reality, he was just getting tired of prying at you for the homework answers

‘i’m fucking leaving too!’ hinata hissed, imitating your brother’s actions until he got the gate of the school, then he turned back around and shuffled back over to you 

he pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder and squeezing your waist tight as he whispered into your ear, ‘do you have any other secret siblings that you want to tell me about?’

you giggled, pressing a gentle kiss onto his collarbone ‘i don’t think so.’ 

Kōtarō Bokuto

mans thought you were leaving him 🥺

like why would you talk to another guy when you had a cool ace bf already? (˘･_･˘)

in bokuto’s mind, that could only mean one thing;

YOU WERE GOING TO LEAVE HIM FOR AN EVEN COOLER ACE BOYFRIEND!! ヽ(*。>Д<)o゜

and the fact your brother was wearing a jersey didn’t help either

like, he doesn’t often get jealous when you talk to other guys but this one was wearing a JERSEY FFS!!! that meant he must be cool >:(((

also, you were laughing!

yeah, you sometimes laugh when you talk to akaashi or boys in your class but this time it was different 

the guy looked familiar but bokuto couldn’t put a finger on who he was - but he knew that the guy wasn’t from Fukurōdani as the colors of his jersey were a fruity teal and white - and this made him feel even more uneasy

bokuto knew what he had to do

he had to win you back by being thE COOLEST ACE BOYFRIEND!!

he ran a hand through his hair to it was extra spiky before swaggering up to you; chin up, back straight and chest puffed out

‘sup, doll.’ he said with a wink, forcing his voice to deepen

you sighed, upon hearing this unusual nickname, it didn’t take you long to figure out what was going on

bokuto didn’t even let you reply as he dropped to one knee and gently took you hand - making both you and your brother’s breath hitch in unison, thinking that you were about to witness a proposal and knowing bokuto, that didn’t seem completely impossible

however, instead of pulling out a ring; he pressed a tender kiss against you knuckles before pulling the pair of earbuds you had left at his house yesterday, out of his pocket and lowering his head as he held them out for you

‘i humbly offer these to thee.’

‘how did you go from a pimp to prince in 3 seconds?’ you inquired, snatching your earbuds from him while shooting him a disapproving look 

(b/n) couldn’t help but snicker at your boyfriends little performance, ‘i see he’s not changed a bit.’

bokuto hummed, looking over to meet eyes with your brother 

(b/n) smiled shot him a warm smile, ‘hi, bokut--’

‘do i know you?’

you instinctively gasped while your brother just laughed, ‘i’m (b/n); (y/n)’s brother. we met once after one of your games, remember?’

bokuto did not remember - at all - but he trusted that it did happen as that’d explain why he seemed so familiar

to avoid appearing any more ignorant, bokuto just nodded in agreement, ‘oh, yeah! it’s all coming back to me now.’ he chuckled awkwardly while getting up from his knee, ‘you just look so different with your jersey on, man.’

you rolled your eyes at how poor bokuto’s lying skills were but perhaps you should be more disappointed in your brother as he actually fell for it 

‘oh, for real?’ (b/n) asked, looking down at his chest while wondering if jersey really did the trick

needless to say, bokuto never forgot your brother’s face ever again lmao

Tetsurō Kuroo

upon exiting the building (after practise) and seeing you conversing with some guy by the school gates, he wasted no time in ripping his shirt off and parading over to you 

he mentally reassured himself that he had no need to be jealous bc there was no way you’d leave his fine-ass for some average guy that made you laugh by the school gate-- WAIT YOU WERE LAUGHING!?!? ◉_◉

 i mean, kuroo had made you laugh before- but you were just being so nice to this guy who he’d never seen around the school before which stressed him

plus, the guy looked like he was in college so kuroo was extremely worried that you might leave him for an older guy bc he had heard from yaku that some ppl like older men 😭😭

he could not let this happen ✋

his shirt now served as a scarf hanging around his neck as he strutted up to you, placing his hand on your shoulder to grab your attention

he wasn’t sure whether to go for the intimidation tactic or perhaps redirect your attention off of the guy and back onto your dearest boyfriend; so he went with both

‘(y/n)?’ he spoke, lowering his voice so it was more raspy - like his morning voice which he knew you were obsessed with

although kuroo is not ‘chemistry nerd’ smart, he definitely knows how to play his cards right IEFBERGLIEABVR

you hummed in response, swiftly turning to look at him before letting out a cackle upon seeing your half-naked boyfriend standing behind you

‘hey! don’t laugh at me!’ kuroo whined, his mask of confidence quickly shattering

‘put your shirt back on, tetsurō!’ you panted through guffaws, clutching your chest to prevent your heart from beating out of your chest 

honestly, it was quite hot but ofc you’d never admit that so you just had to hide your desire behind laughs

while you were laughing, kuroo turned to look at your brother, trying to form a glare but it looked more like a squint tbh

‘and you are?’

(b/n) wore a stunned look at how quickly your boyfriend’s attitude changed, temporarily unable to think up a reaction but then blurted out, ‘(b/n). you?’

(b/n) cocked his head to the side while backing up slightly, ready to make a run for it as soon as kuroo replied

kuroo didn’t intimidate (b/n), per se, it’s just that (b/n) wanted to get as far away from this interaction as possible as it generally made him feel uneasy

‘i’m (y/n)’s boyfriend.’ he said lowly with a menacing smile

‘cool.’ (b/n) voice cracked as he adjusted the strap of his bag before launching off into the horizon on his heels

a smug expression was plastered on his face as he gazed proudly at his work - he had managed to scare off an upperclassman with sheer manliness

by now, your laughing fit had died down and your lips formed a frown as you watched your brother bolt over to his car, hop in and drive away - presumably, back to your home

‘hey.’ you moaned, watching until his car turned a corner and left your vision, ‘he was my ride home!’

kuroo’s soul almost left his body upon hearing you say that, ‘you shouldn’t be getting in cars with crusty, older men anyway!’

you rolled your eyes, ‘he’s my brother, dumbass!’

IEHFBEVJEAU kuroo shut tf up immediately 😶

 ‘oops- my bad.’ he snickered before jogging out the school gates, ‘have fun walking, babe!’ he threw up a piece sign before disappearing round a corner in a similar way that your brother did 

Kei Tsukishima

tsukishima had just finished practise, he walked out the gym to notice that you were talking to some guy next to the vending machine

he literally almost had a heart-attack bc he thought it was kageyama 

but no

IT WAS WORSE

tsukishima never really got jealous when you talked to other guys bc he knew they really had nothing in comparison to him lol

i mean, tsukishima knew he was a catch: he’s lanky, bitchy, tall, rude, emotionally-distant, tall, untrusting, tall, insecure, surly, a horrible cook- did i mention he’s tall?

ok so maybe he wasn’t as much of a catch as he originally thought but the fact he is tall is really the thing that’s holding together his façade of arrogance

so imagine his shock when he sees you happily chatting away to a guy that’s 6″4 !!!!!!

for clarification, tsukishima is 6″2

tsukishima passed away on the spot 💀⚰

he had already logged onto Instagram and removed the ‘Taken 🔒’ out of his bio 

there’s no way he’s gonna be able to win you back now  ✌😔

he’s had his time has your tall bf- it’s time to resign

BUT HE WASN’T GONNA GIVE UP THAT EASILY

not before he indulged in some bitchery ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

he practised the scene 10 times in his head before executing it, starting by striding up to you and slipping an arm round your waist, pulling you against his chest

his eyes held a penetrating stare on your brother from above the edge of his glasses, he snickered mockingly as his index finger pushed the frames further up the bridge of his nose

honestly, tsukki tried his best to hide it but he was genuinely quite nervous not only bc he actually had to look up slightly to hold eye contact with the guy - which is something he’s obviously not used to - but also due to the fact he simply could not come up with a good insult for this guy; even though he was usually quite good at spotting people’s insecurities ‘:(

hence, all he could to was produce a deriding chuckle which was aimed towards the guy in hopes that it was make him feel half as insecure as tsukishima was feeling rn

‘what’s so funny?’ you asked, clueless to your boyfriend having an internal breakout while standing right beside you 

tsukishima rolled his eyes, realising that the guy seemed unfazed by his dirty looks so it seemed as thought tsukki would have to crack up the pettiness

‘who’s this chump, (y/n)?’ tsukishima leaned in to semi-whisper in your ear, but loud enough so your brother could still hear 

‘tsukki!’ you gasped at your boyfriend’s choice of words before scolding him further, ‘that’s my brother- he’s a 3rd year!’

tsukishima paled

he bowed to the point where he was basically a right angle ‘m-, uh, my apologies, sir. i ha-, um, i had no idea you were related to (y/n).’

he was sO EMBARASSED AAAAAAAAAAA

your brother reassured him it was fine but tsukki was apologising for another 5 minutes after that 

he promised himself never to get jealous again after that (ಥ _ ಥ) it only leads to trouble 

no matter how tall the guy is either- 

he swore that if he ever saw a 9″ guy talking to you and it upset him, he’d just close his eyes 😑

he probably should’ve promised to stop running his mouth too bc that’d probably result in a lot less trouble but- baby steps, y’all LMAO

Keiji Akaashi

i can’t really imagine akaashi as the type to get jealous tbh

and if he does, he deals with it pretty well

like if sees you talking with a guy in a way that bothers him, he’s definitely not confrontational enough to deal with it right there so he’d wait until y’all are alone at home or sumn 

but you had been acting especially distant lately 

so when he spots you hanging with some random guy next to the water fountain, he kinda snaps 

he stalked up to you so he could take your hand in his own, asking if he could borrow just a moment of you time so he could talk to you 

you accept, of course, wondering what this could possibly be about 

he explains how he’s been feeling and you feel quite bad tbh

you weren’t aware that you were detaching yourself from him but you had to blame your schoolwork tbh

once you expressed how schoolwork along with the stress of your job had really been getting you down lately so you asked you brother for assistance, he immediately pulled you into a hug

the last thing he wanted was or it to seem like he was desperate for your attention bc although it was nice, he respected how you had to prioritize other things/people

in fact, he only brought this issue up bc it was beginning to eat him from the inside out - his insecurities telling him that you had lost interest in him and like anyone else, he desired a bit of comfort

you reassured him that you hadn’t ‘lost interest’ in him and you separation as well as you current closeness with you brother was all to do with your workload and hopefully, sometime in the near future, you’ll be able to sit down, relax and just watch a movie with akaashi

that was all fair and lovely but there was still one thing that continued to bother him

‘who’s that guy you were talking to?’ he inquired, gesturing to your brother who was awkwardly standing alone by the fountain

‘my brother.’

‘oh-’

[cornacopicimagines]

after hours│t.h

pairing: professor!tom holland x reader 

words: 6.9k (hehe nice)

warnings: swearing, PURE FILTH, sir kink, rough sex, masturbation (male & female), exhibition kink if you squint, spanking & sort of public sex.

summary:  It's wrong, y/n tells herself. She can't help it though. She can't help fantasising about him. At the other end of the class, Tom tells himself to stop staring at her. It's creepy, he thinks. Neither one knows of the mutual pining that is until tension bubbles over. 

a/n: I’m back bitches! I'm still a fucking sinner and this is such a cliche, I'm so so sorry

masterlist

━━★✼☆｡

y/n sat at the desk. Her eyes never left Mr. Holland. Her attention never left the way the veins in his arms bulged when he picked up the massive textbook, never left his perfectly gelled hair and how it sat atop his head like it was crafted to from the day he was born. Perhaps I should start typing the notes that were on the board, she scowled to herself.

She feels dirty, almost ashamed of her crush on him. She hates herself for falling into a stupid cliché that had been so easy to avoid all these tireless years. y/n doesn't know why she has gone back to a love-sick teenage girl fantasising about a boy who she'll never even get to touch. A boy that so out of her league, he wouldn't even had the faintest idea that she exists. That doesn't stop them though. y/n still finger fucks herself to an orgasm that no boy has been able to give her in her 24 years of life, all the while wishing it was his cock instead of her fingers. If Mr. Holland knew what she did to herself under the influence of him and his stupidly handsome face, he would be disgusted. This she knows for a fact.

This isn't what she thought she would be doing, in all honesty. She is a semester away from graduating and she never wanted to be stuck in a perpetual state of wanting someone so unattainable it's not uneasy, it's borderline unethical. She truly believed she would have ancient married professor that sound like their legs deep in their coffin. Instead she got a literal Greek God as her Psych professor.

She knows that she's not the only one of course. y/n has met 10 other girls in her class that probably write god awful poetry about Mr. Holland's liquid bronze eyes. She can't blame them, if she could write shitty poetry about him, she 100% would. y/n not angry either, she knows out of the 120 students (110 of whom are girls), are probably all in the same predicament. She sometimes gets dirty looks from them when Mr. Holland address her by her first name.

Perhaps that's something she should consider; he calls her y/n not Miss y/l/n or just simply Miss. It's different, it's endearing and when he has a raspy voice, it's so fucking hot.

"y/n," a voice called out, she shook herself out of her haze, "are you still with us?" Mr. Holland was no standing over her. His cologne surrounding her, intoxicating her. y/n gulped softly before turning her eyes to his.

"Yes, sorry sir," y/n replied quickly, trying her hardest not to stumble over her own words or even let the blush run to her cheeks.

Mr. Holland smiled warmly, "that's good, I need at least one of you listening," the class erupting in laughter, "I would prefer it to be one of the brightest." That though got them quiet. y/n sunk into her chair in embarrassment. The blush she had been fighting rose to the surface, making her even more adamant not to look up at him but alas she couldn't.

In that small fleeting moment, she caught something in his eyes. She couldn't define exactly what it was. Whatever it truly was, y/n knew teachers should not be looking at their students in such a way. It made her even more lightheaded with admiration.

The lesson continued on as normal for another hour. Mr. Holland described the outline for the next assignment, it seemed short and sweet. Write a 2-thousand-word essay on the effects of unintentional recreational drugs during early childhood. y/n had to laugh at the way Mr. Holland phrased it. It was as if he had never touch pot in his entire life, to be fair, y/n wouldn't be too surprised if he didn't. Most of the girls in his class groaned at the mere mention of actual work and not an hour and a half session of pure toe-curling orgasm material. Now that she thinks about it, that would be a wonderful way to spend her Wednesday mornings and Thursday afternoons.

Of course, y/n was in another word during the last minutes of the lesson. Unable to focus on anything other than the hint of a tattoo peeking through the underlining of his shirt. She was working so hard to distinguish what it was that she had completely missed the end of the lesson and the dozens of people walking out.

"y/n, what exactly are you doing?" Mr. Holland's voice asked above her. y/n almost jumped in her seat, but she stayed completely still. "This is the second time today, should I be worried?"

This though made her jump out of her seat. "No of course not sir!" She defended as she rushed to place her things away. "I was just off in wonderland today."

"Are you sure there is nothing distracting you?" He asked.

Yes.

"No," she replied hurriedly.

"You know you can tell me if something is," he reassured her.

Yes, of course. Let me just tell you about how you are distracting me by always wearing the hottest casual suits every lesson and giving me the wonderful fantasy of tearing it off you.

"I know that, it's just been my busy schedule," y/n lied through her teeth. She's a broke college student with hardly any friends or real other assignments. "I am just working really hard, you know?"

Yeah, working really hard to imagine you pounding me into next week!

With that last thought, y/n knew she needed to leave before she exploded with embarrassment and arousal right there in front of him.

"I just wanted to let you know that you are totally allowed to change the topic of the assignment if you feel like there is something that strikes a chord with you," Mr. Holland smiled brightly.

Fuck! Did he have to look so gorgeous even when he's trying to be dorky and supportive.

Mr. Holland noticed the shocked look upon y/n's face and immediately retracted his statement, "I promise I won't fail you, if that's what your thinking." He explained. "I really enjoy your work, you're a gifted woman with a real talent and I don't want to see it go to waste with my shitty assignment."

y/n turned her attitude around. He was stumbling over his words. It was kind of cute and endearing, like everything he does. She smiled warmly at his compliment.

"Sir," she spoke softly. It came out a lot mouseyer and somehow sexual than she would have liked but she refused to back out of her statement. "I can't wait."

She didn't say another word but simply slung her back over her shoulder and made her way out of the class. Tom followed her figure in complete and utter shock. He praised whatever god watched over him for the small mercy that was having y/n's back turned to him to witness his immediate blush cover his entire freckled face.

Tom never let his eyes leave her. He just watched her waltz right out of his classroom, he bit his lip at the sight of her perfectly cupped ass in her jeans. Through-out the entire lesson, all he could think about is how her tits would bounce as his dick thrusted up into her little cunt. Just the thought made his cock spring to life.

He stared up at the clock. He had to be in another lecture in 10 minutes, he had to teach another round of student without her pretty face in it in 10 bloody minutes. Sadly, it wasn't enough time to imagine cumming over her said face. He fidgeted until his painful erection was safely hidden.

God, you are such a fucking creep, Holland. He thought to himself.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n really didn't want to be doing this.

She really didn't want to have to walk to the library in a mini skirt she had when she went through her cringy hoe phase and a low-cut tank top she only really wore to bed at 8 at night. Luckily before she left, her roommate gave her a full can of pepper spray and a pocketknife. A handle tool for when you looked like a prostitute.

She had no choice. It was laundry night and she had to get her assignment out of the way, or she would never finish it in time. She wanted to kick herself for letting laundry night fall on the only night the library stayed open until midnight. It was a perk for sure but not when you had nothing to wear but pink neon rags.

y/n pushed open the library door and relieved herself of the anxiety of being abducted by the greeting of Harry. He looked familiar but she couldn't pinpoint where she had seen his face before.

"What cha doing here?" he shouted. Quite contradictory for a librarian. y/n grinned when she saw his dorky face at the counter. That is until he caught wind of her outfit, or lack thereof. "Got a late shift at the strip-club after this?" Her face fell.

"I hate you," she played along, her arms slumping on the cold desk. y/n looked around the library. It was basically empty, with the exception of the middle-aged teacher grading a stack full of papers. Poor bastard, y/n thought. "Got one for me?"

"You're going to get me fired if I do this again," Harry huffed, he banged his head against the keyboard in frustration.

"This is the last time," y/n explained, "I pinkie promise." She lifted her hand over the counter and waved her pinkie finger in Harry's face. He stared up her than move his eyeline to her finger now just touching the tip of his nose. He groaned loudly as he took her finger in his.

"There is a ton of empty booths, choose one and don't make a sound," Harry told her angrily, y/n simply clapped her hands in celebration and skipped off. She chooses the booth in range of Harry, in hopes that maybe he will distracted her and she won't have to do her work because she's too busy goofing off.

y/n dropped her stuff in a huff. Her back slumped into the curve of the chair and the desk covered her body happily. She placed her earphones in and played her favourite study music. She was in absolute heaven.

The assignment was kicking her ass, but she was determined to do it. Mr. Holland seemed genuinely excited for what she would write about if she did decide to change the topic. Now though she's regretting not letting Mr. Holland's hopes down.

She could find hardly anything online and even if she did it was by some random SJW on Tumblr. That's what lead her here tonight. In hopes that maybe some privileged white asshole with a degree would have some sources sighted to help her. Unfortunately, she was having trouble with that too.

It was now 11:30pm. She had been at this god forsaken table for two and a half hours now in an endless pursuit of bullshit. y/n had half a mind to give up and just suck his dick for the grade like other girls would in this situation. y/n had to remind herself though, she is a gifted woman with a real talent that should not be wasted on something shitty to please the masses. Did she just quote Mr. Holland?

She caught eyes with Harry in her block, who had two pencils stuck up his nose in an attempt to cheer her up. It did for the most part. y/n wanted to play along but it had seemed someone else had walked through the door at that very moment and Harry threw the pencils out. Harry's face lit up with red upon the arrival of this mystery person. y/n was interested in who this mystery person was. That is until she saw his face.

Mr. Holland walked up to the library desk in a fit of laughter. His hands smacking the counter and his face contorted in a wide smile. y/n instantly ducked under the table. She could faintly hear their conversation. It just sounded like muffled words until her name popped up.

Jesus Christ. Not now. Not tonight. Why of all night to run into his must it have to be tonight. Maybe I should make a run for it now, bust out of the wind-

"I know you're under there y/n," Mr. Holland's voice sung above her. It was too late now. Any escape plan that her mind frantically tried to rationalise was long gone by this point. Slowly, y/n retreated from her hiding spot to face him. He had his normal outfit of a tight t-shirt paired with a decorative tie and slightly lose pants. This time though he had a long burgundy coat draped over his shoulders. He looked like a painting. y/n smiled sheepishly.

"Hi," she said simply. Regaining her seat from before and fully appearing in front of him. "I had no idea you would be here this late," she tried with conversation.

"Harry's my brother, I have to drive him home before leaving myself and he just wanted to work the late shift tonight," Tom laughed to himself and he turned around and waved at Harry. His brother waved back guiltily. "You know, I could say this same to you," he smirked at her.

"I am working on your assignment, sir," y/n responded quietly. Tom's eyes lit up at that and he rushed to snatch the papers off her desk and into his hands. Much to the disapproval of y/n.

"Oh good, you've decided to change it," Tom sounded almost relieved as if he trusted her judgement more than his own. Worse of it all, he decided to sit down next to her. Even taking off his coat, making his biceps bulge through his shirt. His eyes flicked through what she currently has. His eyebrows raised in shock, "I have to say, I was not expected you to decide to do something about the female orgasm and its effect on the psyche," his voice was an octave deeper than usual. y/n could feel her arousal building.

y/n couldn't decide if he was just being friendly or if he was trying to send a deeper message. Either way, she decided to take action. "Well, with the number of women being unsatisfied I thought it was an appropriate topic," she snatched the papers out of his hands, "but you wouldn't know anything about women being unsatisfied would you sir?"

Tom sat there in astonishment. His cock stiffened against the restraints of his jeans, he has only been in her vicinity for 5 minutes and already she has him hard as a rock. It was times like these that he wished he could just leave all his determination to fuck her over this very desk at the door. Regrettably, he couldn't.

"Well, that just ruins the surprise," y/n sighed delicately. Her fingers flicking through the pages of her useless book. "Either way, the resources are complete shit," this time her sadness was real, and Tom snapped out of his lust-ridden haze.

"Did you really expect a man to know mostly everything of something that is so cardinally female?" Tom smirked as he closed the book on her and pointed to the photo of a wrinkled old man. He was the author of a stupid book and to be fair, he looked like he would write this type of book as well.

"Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong," y/n hissed. She had been spending her entire night trying to piece together information from a man who can only give her half the story.

"The book on the top shelf is one on the chemical effects of orgasming in females by a female," Tom leaned in and whispered in her ear. His hot breath wafted of her skin; it was enough to send goose bumps over her entire body. y/n turned her head to face him, their lips inches away from each other. If they didn't have Harry watching them like a hawk, they probably would be out of breath from lip-locking. Instead, y/n nodded and got up out of her seat, making sure to give him a stunning view of her tits through her tank top. He wanted to audibly gasp but kept in inside. It didn't help with his situation downstairs any more than the last few minutes have.

Slowly, she walked over to the bookcase. Her eyes scanning the endless rows and she made sure Tom had enough time to enjoy the deep red thong underneath her skirt. Finally, her fingers coiled around the book and brought it down to her. Tom couldn't believe his own eyes. He was so under her spell. The way her top hugged her curved and let his eyes completely drink in her breasts. How her skirt was pulled up to her waist, allowing the flushed skin of her ass to be visible to him. He wonders how a woman like her even exists and yet she takes a seat next to him, absolutely unaware of his throbbing manhood. Begging to be touched by her, to be taken by her, by anything to do with her.

"Thank you, sir," she almost purrs to him, Tom's struggling to keep it together. He afraid the next thing to slip out of her flawless mouth, he'll cum straight into his pants when he would rather cum into her.

"Anytime," he responds just a dark before getting up. Hiding his clearly hard cock behind his briefcase. "I'll see you in class?" He already knows the answer, but he just wants the last bit of assurance from her.

"Of course," she smiled warmly. With that Tom basically books it, he's frantically making sure he's well-hidden as he quickly bends over the counter.

"I'll come back to pick you up in 30, I forgot some paper work back in my office," it's so fast, Harry almost doesn't have time to translate it before Tom's out the door and rushing down the hall.

At one point, he basically running to get to his office. Feet tapping against the concrete as he continues to see nothing but flashing images of y/n. It blurs his vision and he's so desperate. He considers using a spare supply closet but know he will only get complete privacy in his own office.

He finally gets there, after what seems like an eternity of running. He checks the hallways before entering. He drops all of his things at the foot of the door. He even has the decency to hang his coat upon the rack. Tom slowly walks over to his chair. It's a rough leather material and usually he would refuse to do what he's about to do in here, it will be stained with the memory but at this point. He got no fucks left to give.

He crashes down. His back hitting the material he hates so much. He doesn't think he's got time, but he still does it slowly. His belt drops next to his and he undoes the zip slowly and the cold air hits his dick. He hisses at the feeling but proceeds anyways. Tom pulls the rest of his jeans and boxers down his legs and kicks them across the room. His hand takes his dick, slowly rubbing the head. Imaging y/n's fingers dancing over it, spreading the precum over. He uses his palm to envision her own stroking up and down in an even motion. He can't help but moan. He can't help but softly call out her name.

He so entranced that he doesn't recognize the following light footsteps approaching. He's so into her non-existent touch that he doesn't hear the door peacefully squeak open. He's so in love with the feeling he doesn't feel y/n walk around the room to get on her knees in front of him.

She's in glory of his movements. Watching him stroke his much bigger cock than her masturbation version has her in a hurry to get her own panties off her body and across the floor. She's sure she's dripping onto the wood below but she does have single care in the world. Tom has his head thrown back in ecstasy as his hand starts to speed up, that's when y/n decides to go for the kill. She licks a long strip up his shaft. Her hands stabilizing him by placing them atop his bare thighs.

Tom almost jumps out of his chair. He had no idea she caught him in the middle of something so vile and wrong. Better yet, she had caught him with the tip of his dick around her perfectly glossed lips. He doesn't get to say another word before y/n's hands begin massaging the bottom of his manhood. It's slow to begin with, it's almost if she's easing him into it. Her cheeks hollow out to allow his length into her warm mouth. It's incredible. Tom can't help but buck his hips up into her throat causing her to gag slightly. It's a sound he wants more of.

His hands ball her hair into his fist. With the faster her movements become, the harder he fucks into her mouth. They sync up almost instantly. One of y/n's hands leave his cock to fuck herself. Tom's mesmerised by the way her fingers act as a replacement for his dick. He's certain he's not going to last much longer.

"I should be d-doing that," he whispers through grunts. y/n lifts her head to smile at him, still letting her free hand jerk and pull bringing him closer the edge.

"I know," she responds, just as quiet. Her mouth reconnects but Tom quickly snaps his hips up into her. Her muffled moaning vibrated against his cock as he fucks her mouth. It's the hottest thing he's ever done. He tugs and pulls at her hair, y/n's edging him on. She's exquisite, it's like she's mastered this and has allowed him to chance to feel how fucking beautiful her little mouth can be.

Like it's effortless, he comes. Without any warning, he is shooting hot stream of cum into her mouth, filling it up. Tom swears he's seeing stars but can't bring him to call out her name but instead bites down on his hand so hard he's afraid he's drawn blood.

y/n releases him from her mouth and is from an actual porn Tom spent his teenage years watching, his cum leaks from her lips and falls down on the curves of her tits. It's a sight he was to remember forever. He wants to grab his phone and click so he will get to look at her covered in his cum for the rest of his life but alas, he's still regaining his bearings.

"Tastes better than I would have expected," y/n giggles as she brings the liquid back up to her lips and swallows. There is no way this woman gets better; he thinks to himself.

"Sweetheart-," he begins but she beats him to it, her gets back on her feet and plants a sweet kiss upon his lips. He can taste himself on her lips, it's addictive.

"I wanted this," it's almost as if she read his mind. He doesn't respond but he simply looks at her, his hand coming up to twirl a strand of hair that has fallen in front of her face.

y/n pulls away from him, walking over the pile of discarded clothes and bend to pick up her soaked underwear. She gives Tom a look, he's so close he can smell her juices from his seat. Her pussy look like a paradise waiting to be exploded by him, but he keeps his hands to himself. y/n paced herself over to the coat hanger, her folded panties in hand. She places them in the left pocket with a devilish smile upon her face. Tom had now place their rest of his clothes back on and had joined her.

"I'll get them back next lesson," y/n grins. Tom nods quickly, their feet fumbling under her back hits his office door. She's trapped in between him, he smells of pure sex but she's committed to her idea. He bends down to capture her lips in his with a forceful kiss. It's hungry and needy. She wants it so badly to give but she pulls away. "My roommate is waiting for me outside."

"We'll finish this," Tom whispers as he opens the door for her. It sends shivers down y/n's spine. It's not a promise, it's an order.

She grabs the rest of her things and heads off. Almost in a sick turn of events, Tom watches her bare ass strut away from him. Just like the last lesson, except this time all he can do is imagine him face fucking her. It's a beautiful sight.

━━★✼☆｡

The three days leading up to class where probably the slowest 72 hours both of them had ever experienced. A constant detail of pleasure from the night before. So when the fated day arrived, both parties didn't know what to do. Tom debated just staying home, though he couldn't deny he so desperately want just another taste. He thought, if he didn't show up, all his guilty conscience of a student giving him the best head he's ever had in his life would simply disappear and he would go back to being a normal teacher. y/n, too, thought of skipping this class for a completely different reason. Perhaps she had got a surge of confidence after hearing her professor call out her name while he touched himself or it could just be the pure scandalous nature of it all. Either way, she wanted to stay cooped up with a blanket while she watched him unravelled. No matter the psyche from the both of them, they went.

y/n stood outside the classroom for a good 20 minutes, unsure of what she should do. Should she go in now and fuck him in the small window or wait and play with his emotions? She hadn't realised how fast the time had went until she saw other student's start entering. It was now or never and unfortunately it was going to be now.

The room was smaller than y/n remember when she stepped in. It seemed more wide the last time she came in here. Of course, the last time she came in her, she hadn't sucked Mr. Holland's cock.

Her eyes landed on him in a matter of seconds. His back was turned to her as he wrote on the massive blackboard in front of him. y/n could see his muscles flex as he tried to reach for the duster above the board. She bit her lip as she thought of her nails digging into his back as he fucked her. It was a fantasy she had to push to the side.

Tom could practically smell her once she walked in. It was her normal perfume that had been intensified 10 fold. He refuses to turn around, afraid that if he did all his good heart nature would go out the window. Tom could hear the faint clinking of the heels of her shoes walk up the stairs. He so desperately wanted them to come right back down.

"Okay, as you know, you're assignment is due in 2 weeks and this is going to be the only time I will answer your questions," Tom's voice boomed. He hadn't got a lot of sleep since that night and he didn't particularly want to do this but he considered himself a kind professor, so he had too.

He turned around and saw the entire class' hands go straight up in the air. Including y/n, though hers was a little lower. Her eyebrow raised and a small smirk painted on her lips. There was no way in hell he was answer whatever question came out of those pretty lips. She looked even more exquisite than when he last saw her. A tight t-shit that had a stained 50's logo on it and a pair of tight black jeans, he knew as soon as he spoke to her, he would loose all control on himself.

So he never did, constantly dodging her. Answering every single question, even if half of them were if he was married or worse if he was free Friday night. He will admit, seeing y/n get frustrated every time he passed her to talk to another young female student made him just that tad bit excited.

It was an hour and a half of pure tension. Sure, no one else in the class could feel it but they 100% could. She never felt more out of control and for some reason, she despised it. He kept ignoring her, kept refusing her, kept defying her. It was infuriating, that she wanted to take fate by the hair.

She waited, until every single soul had walked out of the door. She waited until the last gaggle of girls had finished their blabbering to Tom before she starting to strut down the stairs. Tom refused to meet her eyes even when he knew that's all she did. Glare at him as she stomped past him desk to the classroom door. He heard it lock.

"I wanted to ask you a question," she almost spat, "sir."

Tom straightened himself before swivelled around to meet her. She was so livid with him but he knew deep down that all she wanted from him was to have the white chalk from the board rubbed up her back from him pinning her down.

"Fire away," he responded exactly the same. She stared at him for a moment before strolling towards him. She made sure to swing her hips every other time. She noticed his eyes on her, finally she was getting somewhere.

y/n pressed her chest upon his heaving one. Her face lifting to meet his. They stayed like that for a good minute, just pondering. They listened to each other's heats thumping against their rib cages. They both desperately needed this.

Never taking her eyes off him, y/n snaked her hand around the side of pocket of her coat, smiling once she found what she left. Her soaked red thong, it was a sight for sore eyes.

"I wanted to ask if I was every going to get payback?" she giggled softly. Tom knew she was playing a game but he had no idea which one it was.

"I don't think I understand," he stammered, she strutted away from him until she met the edge of his stainless desk. Her fingers gliding over the wood ever so slightly. She turned her head to look at him. She had a rawness in her eyes; lustful, a sinner's stare. It would be a look Tom was never forget for the rest of his life.

y/n suddenly jumped on the desk. Her ass moving the papers to the side as she slowly started to unbutton her tight jeans. "I think you do," it was almost a hiss but he only heard the desperation in her voice. "I want you to make me feel all the things you did that night."

Tom almost fainted just with that until she dropped her jeans the floor. She had come to class without any underwear on and her wetness was dripping onto the desk. Tom was sure was in heaven but he didn't want to believe it.

He got on his knees. His hands palming at her soft thighs. Tom didn't need another incentive, he didn't need another spur-on. Tom licked a single strip up her folds, y/n bit a moan back. It was like tasting ambrosia or doing cocaine for the first time. He needed more, so he went back in again, this time it was rougher. His fingers gripping at her ass, pulling her closer to his mouth as he devoured as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Her hands tangle themselves in his floppy curls, she tugs harshly on his scalp as he adds a finger into her warm entrance.

Tom's never felt like this before but he doesn't care. He's sure people can hear her soft but frantic moaning from outside, but he doesn't care. He'll never look at his desk the same way but like everything else, he doesn't fucking care. Tom curls his fingers in the perfect spot inside of her.

"Just like that," y/n calls out, her hair now sprawled out on the desk. "I'm going to cum sir."

Tom feels her walls contract around his fingers as he pulsing faster, her back arches and she trying so hard to force her cries back into her throat. It's a sight he wants to from above, it's a feeling he wants to feel inside of her. So, at the last minute, he retracts everything. His tongue leaves her throbbing clit and his finger, which are glistening with her slick, slid out of her.

y/n can't hold back to whine that leaves her left from the loss of his god-like tongue and fingers. "What the fuck Tom?!" she's angry with him, she wants to tell him off but before she can do it. One of his hands captures her wrist and slams them against the desk below her, pinning her to it. She whimpers at the sting of pain.

He's right above her but she can't see a single thing below her. "Look at me," he tells her sternly, she does what's she is told instantly. "You can't talk to me like that sweetness," y/n knows there is a venom behind his words even if she speaks in a melody. "I'm not your fucking boyfriend, you don't call me that."

Without any warning at all, he pounds right up into her. y/n almost spasms out of Tom's grip from the wave of pleasure. Tom doesn't move at all, he stays nuzzled inside her. It's agonising, almost painful for y/n. Having his perfect cock not jamming into her tight cunt. It's torture.

"You understand that?" he peppers kissed against the nape of her neck, she's about to cry out, she'll do anything. She nods her head frantically, hoping it's enough. It isn't. He keeps his hips locked tightly against hers. "Words, sweetness."

"Yes," she responds. She can feel him frown against her skin. He pulls right out of her and rams right back in, causing y/n to scream out in pleasure. "Y-yes sir," she corrects herself and with that, Tom starts a pace. It's slow and tantalising, he watches amazed at how her pretty folds swallow him up with every thrust. It's magnificent.

He wants to savour this moment forever. He wants to fuck her brains out for every waking moment of his existence.

"Sir, go harder," she moans below him. Her wrists bruised from his gripped, but the pain just only contributes in her overwhelming amount of pleasure. His thick cock is so much better than her fingers, no matter how many she adds.

Tom obliges and starts to really pound into her cunt. It's raw and ruthless, he's calling out her name now. "Fuck sweetness, you so bloody tight," he purrs, y/n can't respond through her chant of curses. "You're little cunt was made for me, it was made for me to stretch it out."

The dirty talk elevates her, y/n's not sure how much longer she'll last. His filling ever last inch of her. She can feel her tits bounce every time their skin collides. Her wrists are finally let free as he begins to clutch at her naked hips. It's an experience she's never felt. The sound of skin slapping and their combined gasping and cursing are the only thing she can perceive to hear. If there was a knock at the door, y/n knows she would have no idea about it.

Perhaps, it's the pure excitement and morality of this whole situation that makes them both feel like they're on cloud nine. Her arms snake around his waist, her hands move with every rough thrust into her. She's gripping onto his back through the material of his tight shirt. Her nails clasping on the contracting muscles. She would have left his back red and sore if he didn't have the damned t-shirt on to protect him.

"Fuck," she curses as he started to hit an area inside of her, she never knew existed. "Just like that sir, I am going to cum," she moans, her forehead against his. They lock eyes again, this time though there is no linger feeling of want or romance. It's just sex. Dirty, hot, intense fucking.

She's the first to come undone. The fire now transformed into a raging wildfire spreading across her entire abdomen. y/n throws her head back in ecstasy, her whole vision goes black and she has to bit down against her hand to stop and inevitable pornographic scream to jump out of her mouth. Her other hand clutches his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Tom follows shortly after, his thrusts become sloppy and erratic but never easing up. His cock twitches inside of her before he shots the hot white liquid all inside of her cunt. He pressed his lips against her as his attempt to stop his moan as well but he continues to call out her angelic name against her lips. Once, Tom pulls out of her, he watches in awe. The mixture leaks out of her hole and then pools on his desk. He's so in love with this woman it hurts.

"I have never cum that hard in my entire fucking life," she giggles, pulling her top down her flushed tits. As he too, starts to redress himself, he simply stares at her. Watches her retrieve her jeans from the floor and slip them up her bare ass. He spots her shove her panties back into his back pocket, not before she scribbles something down on a torn piece of paper.

"What are you doing?" he asked gently, wrapping his arms around her waist. She nuzzles her face in the crook of her.

"I'm giving you a reason to come make me dinner and then fuck me again," she explains, "I put my address in there, so hopefully you can't get lost."

"You sure about this," Tom asked hesitantly, y/n now swivelled around to face him. Her warm palm caressed his face.

"I wouldn't have just done that if I wasn't," she places a soft, tender kiss to his cheek. "Make it a Thursday though, my roommate will be out on those nights," she told him as he grabbed the last of her things and unlocked the door. Tom grins warmly as she makes herself presentable for the last time. "I would clean that up if I were you," y/n laughed, pointing at the obvious mess all over his desk before quickly exiting.

As she wobbled back to her dorm, she wondered what article of clothing she should leave out on their next escapade.

━━★✼☆｡

a/n: this is gonna flop, i just fuckin know it 🥴 anways i hope you enjoyed my fic that has ended my hiatus. see you (hopefully) soon 🥺

[fairestwriting]

title: a treasure hunt of sorts

word count: 2696

summary: Malleus had been gifting Ellis gems, recently, so many that they were piling up and he wouldn't know what to do with them even if he actually understood the meaning behind the gift. After some "careful consideration", he decides to give something back.

commissioned by @nymphgrotto​ , also available on ao3 here ! tysm for the commission, i hope you enjoy it!

my guidelines for commissions are here, in case anyone else is interested

Everything in the Ramshackle dorm building creaks, floorboards and doors and ceiling threatening to collapse in a way that Ellis somehow had just grown used to. Door shut behind him, he walks noisy steps towards the lounge, leaving the beautiful night outside, and placing a red gem the size of his palm on the coffee table.

Another one. The fifth one he’d gotten this week, and they were only halfway through it.

The gems gather on top of the surface like freshly picked fruits, full of color and life and almost glaring at him in their little shiny pile. He slides the blazer off, tossing it somewhere — Grim was asleep at this point, it’s fine if he wasn’t being the best influence — and lets himself collapse on the plush stuffing of the couch.

The gems were a gift from Malleus Draconia — A name that strikes fear into many students’ hearts, for reasons Ellis just couldn’t see. They had met by chance outside Ramshackle, Malleus was taking a nightly stroll and they just ended up chatting for a reason or another. He found out bits and pieces of information every time they saw each other. That he liked abandoned buildings and the night sky, that he was very knowledgeable about gargoyles and owned a tamagotchi, then his name that he had been refusing to actually tell. They hit it off and became friends. Malleus was a person Ellis liked to be around.

And a person he had an exponentially growing crush on, he admits, but just to himself for now. He sighs again, head in his hands. His crush, putting a different precious gem in his hand every night. It should have been a dream scenario, but he just doesn’t get it. The way Malleus does it is so unaffected, they couldn’t be heartfelt gifts at all. It looked like he was lending him money.

Maybe that’s what’s happening, he thinks tiredly, looking around the inside of the building. He had been cleaning up for most of the semester, it managed to look decent now, if only a little like somewhere a grandmother would live, but that was cozy in its own way. The outside was still screwed up, though, so maybe Malleus trying to help him with repairs? Ellis stares at the pile of gems, they stare back. With the amount all of them were worth, they were probably enough to cover all the costs needed to polish Ramshackle’s outside, so maybe…

...he really didn’t want his crush, a guy so lofty and admirable, to think he just couldn’t do something like that by himself, though. The very thought of it makes him uneasy.

He sighs. Maybe he should talk it out with someone, he was burning up his brain cells just thinking by himself like this. He scrolls through names in his contact list before stopping on Cater’s. Cater had mentioned talking to Malleus before, right? And he didn’t seem scared. Plus he may have been aware of Ellis’ crush, even half so — Though that’s sort of embarrassing, it’s not like he’d been trying to hide.

But it’s okay, the phone makes its dialing noise. “Hey, Cater?”

“Ellis! Hi hi.” Cater chimes from the other side of the line. Ellis could hear ruffling even through the phone, maybe he just moved around on his bed. “What’s up!”

“Malleus.” Ellis starts, leaning back against the couch. Thank god it was so comfy, right. “Has he ever brought you, um… gems and stuff? Like really expensive looking things?”

There’s silence.

“Uh, no?” Cater responds mid a confused laugh. “...why are you asking that? We don’t really talk.”

“I don’t know.” Ellis admits, shaking his head in defeat. “He’s been giving me gems all week and I don’t get it. I thought maybe you knew something since you’ve talked to him...once? That’s more than most people here, anyways.”

Cater hums, a short pause. “Well, I really can’t tell what that means.”

Another sigh, another feeling of defeat. Ellis sinks on the couch.

“Ugh. Do you think he feels bad about the state of the dorm or something? I like gifts as much as everyone else, but…” He sighs. “I just wanna know what’s going on in his head.”

“Y’know, they’re still gems, I don’t get why you’re complaining. And you’re so curious about him too.”

“I just wanna know.” He huffs, face feeling hot. “I feel bad I’m not giving him anything back, is all. Gifts are nice but this is too much.”

“Ehh, you wanna one up Malleus?” He asks, voice incredulous. Do I wanna do that? Ellis finds himself wondering. Is that what this is about?

“I mean, I might as well try, right.” He says. He thinks of it as a joke, but it might not really be one. Looking up to Malleus all the time felt… kind of lame, sometimes, Ellis wanted him to look up to him too. His heart feels heavy thinking about it — But he does.

“Okay, that’s just crazy.” Cater laughs from the other side of the line, mixing with the ruffling sound again.

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe.” He laughs back, but, again, he’s actually thinking about it. He can’t help but think about it. What if he actually impressed Malleus this time? He wonders how he’d look.

They say their goodbyes after more idle chatter and Ellis has his flushed cheeks on his hands, pulling his knees closer to his body. He’s tried doing something impressive before, though it usually just ends up going humorously wrong… but, but, maybe this time it’d work. He stares at the gems on the coffee table. These could be the clue he needed.

A wide-eyed Malleus comes to mind. If things went like that, maybe the messages he’d been wanting to send with all the casual affection would get through. Even if Malleus didn’t like him back — That was a scary thought, but he knew it wouldn’t ruin their friendship, Malleus wasn’t like anyone else — he’d been wanting to tell him in a way where he could actually understand, visualize how deep his feelings had been running. This seemed like the perfect chance.

He dreams of emeralds in a treasure room that night.

. . .

He knew that this, at least, was something Malleus would like — Ellis can’t help but giggle in excitement while he drags him around the woods, clutching at his hand, hearing the crunching of leaves under their shoes and the subtle howling of the wind.

“So, tonight,” He introduces, voice chimy and full of energy. Malleus is standing right behind him in his towering glory. His stare is mostly blank, but Ellis somewhat knows how to decode it, and he can see a glint of curiosity there. They stop in front of an assortment of rocks that made up something looking like a gate. “I was thinking we could go looking for gems in this little cave? I heard from some guys that it has a lot of interesting stuff inside!”

Some guys was a chain of information that started with Rook, who had been doing god knows what in the cave, but what mattered now is that Ellis would go there, and he would find something that would blow Malleus away.

“A cave,” Malleus repeats, blinking. His long hair sways with the wind, lime green glow emitted from his eyes — He did things to his heart, honestly, even just being there — as he looks at Ellis with amusement. “Is that… a common outing for your culture, Child of Man?”

“I mean, not really? But I like collecting things.” He says, a bit sheepish as they begin to walk inside. It’s dark, but that’s an issue easily solved by flicking his flashlight on. “And I thought you might like this.”

Malleus chuckles, and that does more to his heart than him just standing here. “I see,” He says, the amusement visible. Ellis can’t help the excited smile beginning to show up on his face. This was it. “I do think it could be interesting.”

“Yeah!” He chimes. Shining the light forwards, he inspects the path in front of them as they walk further away from the entrance — It was safe, right? A lot of people seemed to have been there, plus it wasn’t exactly hard to move inside, the ground wasn’t as rocky as the walls “I heard they have gems deeper inside? Uh, it might be a little creepy for a bit, though.”

Malleus hums. The glow of his eyes shows up more at every step they take towards the inner parts of the cave, shrouded in darkness. Looks magical, Ellis’ brain unhelpfully reminds him, majestic, beautiful.

(He needed to get that confession out already, and yet…)

“I’m not displeased with this place, though.” Malleus’ voice makes a light echo. “It reminds me of home in a way.”

“Home? Like in the Valley of Thorns?” He asks, wincing when he steps against what seemed to be a tree branch, cracking it into two. How do things like that end up here, anyway?

“It’s a very rocky scenery. Tall mountains and thorn bushes, dark almost all year long.” Malleus explains. “I remember seeing it through my room’s window.”

“You know, that’s kind of cool in a way, I’ve never been somewhere like that.” He comments, thumb resting over the flashlight’s switch. He feels fidgety trying to visualize the Valley of Thorns in his mind, then briefly entertaining the thought of actually being there, with him too… “Is the palace all dark too?”

“Darkness is associated with royalty, so naturally it is.” He speaks. There’s a hint of nostalgia in his voice, almost. It’s strangely warm thinking of a smaller Malleus walking around a big, imposing dark castle, and still making all those sweet childhood memories there. It’s a testament to Malleus himself, maybe. The contrast between the imposing exterior and the softer interior. “It's tall, built in black bricks a long time ago, surrounded by thorn bushes…”

“You should bring me there one day.” Ellis suggests. His voice comes out sweet, it always does — And he hopes Malleus can notice why, he wants him to. But he doesn’t expect it at this point.

(Because if there’s one thing about Malleus’ he’s learned, it’s that genius or not, everything just flew right over his head, and flirting with him was a battle you lost before you even started fighting.)

“Perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.” Malleus says mid a chuckle, and his heart flutters. Oh to have a tour around Malleus’ hometown. Maybe there wasn’t much more to see at the place than thorn bushes, but Ellis thought about it insistently anyways. The things that made it unique, and the things about it that Malleus carried over. It’s insistent curiosity and his equally insistent crushing.

He glances forward as he smiles, recalling what he’d been told about the cave. They should be getting to the part with the cool rocks (Cater’s words, not his, maybe not even Cater’s either, since he got that from Ace who got it from someone else… you know how it is) now, Ellis is excited. He’s read up a little bit on gems before doing this. Surely Malleus would be caught off guard by that too, if he was interested in them, then they could choose one to bring home, and it’d be like jewelry shopping, kind of, maybe…

But jewelry stores don’t have swarms of bats in it, and caves do — And in they come, screechy noises and motion blur, and Ellis wasn’t thinking about the presence of bats at all, so he completely flips out, jumping in shock with a yelp and dropping the flashlight.

Dropping himself, actually, tripping on a damned rock and almost falling on top of Malleus as he hears the crack of his light falling, rolling somewhere he couldn’t see.

“Careful, Child of Man—”

Ellis blinks, looking around to try and find that light, but it’s nowhere to be seen — Not that he could see anything, the place was shrouded in darkness now — and his breath quickens with panic, damn it this wasn’t what…

“The flashlight?” Ellis asks, voice frantic. “Damn it, I can’t see it, I…”

Malleus’ eyes are still glowing green.

“I’m guessing you can’t see in the dark?”

“No?” He sputters. What, now he could see in the dark too? Malleus’ abilities are usually interesting to hear about, but now… “Ugh, the flashlight…”

“It’s not anywhere near us.” He informs unhelpfully. “Fallen from a drop. Perhaps I should guide us back.”

He sighs, heavy and tired. Great, there went his plans, everything down the drain again. Usually he could just laugh something like this off, but…

Maybe he had higher hopes for tonight.

“Yeah, I guess.” Ellis mumbles. “Sorry, in the end we couldn’t really do anything cool.”

“We still have time for a stroll near the woods, don’t we?” He can’t see Malleus’ face, exactly, just the outline of his eyes dotting the black dye, but with the way they move he guesses he may have tilted his head. “And I’ve actually enjoyed visiting this cave, short as our outing was.”

“...yeah, b-but I wanted to impress you.” His face feels hot, mostly with shame, the stutter comes with the blurting out of the words. He hates being upset like this, and yet— “You’re always the one doing cool things, disappearing in thin air and leaving fireflies behind, bringing me all that stuff… I wanted to do it too, I guess, especially with you bringing me all those gems for reasons I still don’t know why. I wanted you to… l-like me more, I guess, because I really like you.”

Too many words. He feels his core burn, but they’d been spinning around in his mind for so long now, at some point it was meant to come out. At least, even if Malleus hated that, he wouldn’t…

“Child of Man,” He speaks, voice clear and blank after a pause. There it comes, Ellis thinks dejectedly, though he doesn’t know exactly what bad thing he’s expecting. “Ellis.”

But that’s his name. His agape mouth closes. Was it that bad? One might worry his heartbeat would start echoing into the empty cave.

“...I believe there may have been a misunderstanding here.”

He shakes his head, heart twisting. “N-No, it’s okay, I get that you don’t…”

“Are you not aware of dragon courting traditions?”

Ellis feels his heart both drop the ground and soar at the same time.

“...the gifting of gems. I’d been trying to tell you about… how I feel, I suppose, for a while.” He says, and his voice sounds different. Quieter. Guilty? Ellis can’t put his finger on what it is exactly, but he wonders if Malleus is blushing.

And the image of it in his mind makes him want to look away, even as he can’t.

“There’s been a misunderstanding after all.” Malleus sighs. Yeah, his voice is different. Airy, light, something to it that has Ellis’ face burning. “If you’ve been thinking you could make me like you any more than I already do.”

It feels like an impossible dream to have something like this happen, in this damn cave of all places too, but the smile makes its way into his lips and doesn’t leave, lopsided or not. The laughter starts bubbling up. And on his first snicker, he has Malleus’ confusion too.

“Are you laughing at my confession?” He asks when the snickers turn into a full on laugh, one that has him wiping tears off his eyes with his sleeves.

“G-God, no way, I’m just laughing ‘cause we’re both so stupid…” Ellis shakes his head. Who would have known, huh. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Then we can go for that walk you wanted. I think it’d be nice.”

“As you wish, then.” He replies, and Ellis feels his hand on his, warmth spreading across him. It’s really a dream— “Would that mean we are… dating, now?”

Oh to see the great Malleus asking him all these dorky questions. “Maybe. Let’s get out of here first.”

The light from the entrance shines back onto them soon.

[nakunakunomi]

Henlo all! This is my extremely-close-to-the-deadline-submission for @some-piece​’s AU event. I got these 5 characters to chose from: Rebecca - Hachi - Hawkins - Zoro - Paulie. And after contemplating for a long while I decided to put Zoro in an animal shelter AU which automatically became modern AU setting as well as slight!college AU but the main focus will be on the shelter.

2nd person. Genderneutral reader. slight mentions of animal abuse, nothing too bad. 99% fluff!

“Can I help you?” 

A young man about your age had walked into the shelter where you worked. He had opened the door quite harshly, making the bell at the top ring, and making you put down the cat you had been brushing for a bit and put it back in its cage. You walked up to the little desk area at the front, where he was standing with his arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face that only seemed to relax a bit when he heard you speak up. 

“Yeah I sent an e-mail, I needed to be here for the volunteer program?” 

You thought for a second, suddenly remembering that you had posted an ad at local universities and colleges to come volunteer at the shelter. Most of those students didn’t have the time to come volunteer, but you had gotten a handful of mails. Most of the students never showed up and the only one that had made an appointment for today had made the appointment for two hours earlier so you had just assumed it was going to be another no-show. 

“Oh… you’re…” “-Late I know, I got lost.” You furrowed your brow wondering how someone could get lost for two hours coming from a campus that was only a fifteen minute walk away, but didn’t pry any further, just happy to have some possible assistance.

“Okay! Well, I’ll go get the stuff in order then, you can wait out here for a bit.”

After you got the papers he handed you some form from the school as well and explained that he had to fill in a couple of hours a week with other things than his sports curriculum to get his degree to be complete, and he had jokingly added ‘how hard can it possibly be to look after a bunch of critters’. The statement in itself did not seem to be meant to discredit your work or the animals, but you already saw that he was vastly underestimating just how much effort went into your work. So as soon as all the papers were signed and in order, you could prove him wrong. 

“You’re in luck, all the cleaning is already done. It’s feeding time now, and I was doing a round of brushing today, so maybe you could help with that and if we still have time left we can take some dogs out for a walk.” 

The grin on his face was confident, and you were taking a little pleasure in knowing it would be wiped off his face in an instant. Your main focus was to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally harm the animals, and to make sure they were properly taken care of. But if it meant this overconfident jock got his ass handed to him, you’d take it. 

The day had proceeded as you had expected. Zoro, as he had introduced himself once you got over the formalities, had not been really good with the animals. He was strong, and a hard worker you had to give him that. But the animals… seemed to not really like him, even if he did do his best? Cats hissed, dogs barked, the one abandoned parrot you were temporarily housing had pecked him so hard his finger started bleeding. Luckily for you, he didn’t physically lash out at the animals, but you had heard a whole new array of curse words and insults that you previously didn’t even know existed. 

You had spent most of the day explaining all the things to him and helping him out whenever he was really struggling but most of the time you had actually been occupied with trying not to laugh too hard at his failing ministrations. 

“You have to be kind, try not to come across as so intimidating. You’re a big bad man that they are scared off, and they’re all just trying to defend themselves,”  you said as you petted a big fluffball of a cat while Zoro put fresh water and new food in its cage. The cat was now happily purring and nudging your hand with his head while a few minutes ago it had been aggressively hissing at your volunteer. 

Zoro just angrily grumbled in response, finishing up his task so you could put the cat back. You eyed the clock, noticing it was already time for him to leave for the day. “I’ll release you from your suffering then. See you next week?” “Wait but you still have all these cages to do?” “I’m used to doing this all by myself, no worries” He frowned, and he seemed to be deep in thought for a second. “I’ll stay until it is done.” You raised one brow: “are you sure? These hours won’t count towards your total and it is getting quite late.”

He only shrugged in response: “My roommate is gone and I don’t have much better to do. I am volunteering time anyway, what is one extra hour going to do?” 

You smiled widely. “Let’s get to it then!” 

Even though the animals didn’t seem to like him very much, you couldn’t help but admire this green-haired man and his incredible work ethic. He showed up late often, because even after a few weeks he still managed to get lost regularly. You had just started to say that he needed to be there an hour earlier than he actually had to be there, so with his geographical skills he’d be there on time or even a little early. 

Most of the animals still were not that much of a fan of him, but you’d worked out a nice system that ensured fast and efficient work, and as little scratches and bites as possible. You got work done faster, had more time for social media and such, and thus animals got adopted out faster. It was a win-win, and you noticed yourself always looking forward to the days he’d come to help. 

Zoro wasn’t really talkative, but would listen to your endless ramblings as you talked about the shelter, all the animals, but eventually also things about your life, your family, your home… he was an excellent listener, and his very blunt character made that he usually came up with very honest opinions and helpful solutions, even when he didn’t necessarily intend them like that. And sometimes, when you stumbled over your words cause you were too focused, or said something that didn’t make sense he would laugh. It was a deep and loud laugh, making his whole upper body shake, and lately whenever he laughed, it made your heart flutter a little. Another reason to look forward to his help, which had already exceeded the number of hours he had to do for his extra credit. 

But the semester was coming to an end and you very well knew that even though he seemed to be enjoying his time way more than he initially did, that he would not do extra time. He had his sport’s practices to focus on and his group of friends that frequently went on weekend trips and such, and he had been missing out on a lot of that because of the volunteering he did. You felt a little sad, but had made peace with it. Still, a little voice in the back of your head was nagging more and more often to ask him to meet outside of the shelter. But you didn’t want to seem weird or creepy. Besides. He was obviously a popular college student, finishing up his degree, with a big group of friends that obviously adored him, and model-grade gorgeous. You were just a high school dropout that managed to get a job in a local shelter of which the owner died only a little after you got settled. You were struggling to make ends meet, had little social life besides the animals. You kept telling yourself that the only reason you were feeling so strange whenever Zoro came out to help, was because he was the only one who had made you feel like your life and stories mattered even a little. But you could get used to being all alone in here again with the occasional customer or 1-day volunteer. It was what you were used to. You had already taken far too much advantage of this gorgeous man’s free time.

And then the last day of the semester came. You were finishing up the chores of the day with a heavy heart. You would have to say goodbye, and you would have to keep it professional, since you never worked up the courage to really deepen the connection the two of you had besides working together. Zoro seemed a little uneasy as well, but neither of you was going to bring up the tense atmosphere. Tense was still better than awkward so you rolled with it. 

“Well then”, you started as you put your broom away, “you’ve been an amazing help this semester.” You walked over to the front desk and handed him all the papers he’d need to get his credit in order. 

“You more than deserved these, too bad I can’t give you a grade.” He chuckled in response. “I wish I could say I would miss it a lot, but I think my arms are better off scratch-free” You laughed a little as well, but felt yourself dying on the inside. Of course he wouldn’t miss this place. Or you. 

He put the papers away in his bag, and you were staring at the desk, desperately making up sentences in your mind, of which you could utter maybe one, just one, to say what you were feeling and what you really wanted. But anything you came up with seemed so lame, so stupid, so hopeless, so desperate, and even though you felt like all of these things, that was not how you wanted to portray yourself in front of him for all people. 

He softly touched your arm, his hand warm, and you jumped at the sudden contact. He stepped back in surprise at your reaction. “Sorry”, he mumbled, “I just wanted to say that I didn’t mind my time here. You really helped me out well”. He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, clearly not too used to being soft in someone’s presence, and he smiled an adorable smile as he said those words, a mix of embarrassment and sincerity on his face. You felt like melting, and had to suppress the urge to just wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. With those broad shoulders and strong arms, you were quite sure that the hug he’d give back would be heavenly. But you didn’t, because again, that would be so strange with no indications beforehand that that was what you wanted. 

You nodded, a soft smile on your face as well. “You’re welcome. If you ever have some spare time and get bored, you know the way… or well, you don’t but you’ll find it.” He frowned a little at your remark, but the glint in his eyes betrayed that he found it quite amusing too. He picked up his bag, and opened the door. “Bye then?” “Goodbye Zoro”

A box of kittens. You had nearly tripped over them when you left the shelter to go home for the day. The box was in front of the door and weak, tiny mewls already betrayed its content as you did your utmost best to regain your balance. You kneeled down next to it, carefully opened up the top. Four little kittens, way too young to be away from the mother yet. Already emotional from the happenings of the day you felt tears well up in your eyes. You picked up the box and placed it inside, immediately grabbing whatever supplies you could find to keep the kittens warm, furiously wiping at your eyes in order to clear the tears before they could stream down your cheeks. Things like this could make you so furious. And oh, if only Zoro was still here to calm you down and help out a little. 

You had to take a few deep breaths and gather your thoughts. You had to get out, running for some kitten milk. These babies needed their nutrients and you’d probably spend the night in the shelter making sure they were fed whenever they needed it, keeping an eye on them. So you’d have to go get an overnight bag. But that would mean you would be away from them for a considerable time. You decided that the food was the most important part and literally sprinted to the most nearby pet store, mentally reminding yourself to book an appointment at the vet asap when you were back. 

Sunken deep in thoughts, you weren’t seeing where you were walking, running straight into someone, stumbling and falling on your back in the process. Great. That was what you needed. Some public humiliation while you were already at the verge of a little breakdown. You started to mumble a string of incoherent apologies when you looked up at a surprisingly familiar figure. “y/n?” “Zoro? What are you doing here?” “The apartment I live in is right here. What are you doing here?” He pointed upward at an apartment building and offered you his hand to get up. You grabbed it, and for a split second you wondered how he could possibly take up to two hours to get to the shelter from his apartment that was even closer to the shelter than his college campus was. But then you were back on your feet and you remembered the kittens. Your mind immediately regained some focus again. “Kittens” “What?” “Someone dropped a box of newborn kittens at the door. They will die without supervision, milk and warmth. So I'm getting some food for them and I’ll be staying the night with them to keep an eye on them” You managed to get all things out in one breath, almost turning to start walking again. No matter how much more time you actually wanted to spend in his presence, you knew it was a race against the clock to help the little babies, and those were your top priority right now. 

Zoro’s eyes grew wide. No matter how much he didn’t always connect with some of your furry friends that he had to take care of, he too was filled with rage when he had heard tales of people mishandling them and the reason why some were so scared and defensive when he was too loud or too brisk. You apologized again, explaining that you really had to go, that time was of the essence, and started walking. You were surprised to notice Zoro walking with you. 

“I’ll come with you.”  “What?”  “I’ll come with you. You need food too. And probably some blankets or something for the night right? You need some rest if you are going to take care of everything we usually do and then the new kittens on top of that. I’ll help” 

It was not a question, not even an offer. More a matter-of-a-fact-statement and even though every polite fiber in your being was telling you to follow etiquette and politely tell him that that was absolutely not necessary, you couldn’t push away the overwhelming relief and admiration you felt for this man in that moment and you accepted his help immediately.

You were back at the shelter in a matter of minutes, basic supplies for the kittens in hand, and the vet already on the phone as you followed their instructions on how to take care of them overnight, so you could bring them in for checkup and more detailed advice first thing in the morning. Knowing that Zoro would come and help you out, had done wonders for your mood, your resolve and your nerves. You felt more steady, like you could actually pull this off without neglecting either the kittens or any of the other animals that also needed your attention. 

Zoro had promised to go get some things to make the night at the shelter a little more comfortable and something for you to eat, because he figured you probably were starving at that point. And while you had not eaten yet, the adrenaline made you not feel the hunger. Now that things were calming down and the adrenaline was wearing off, you could feel your stomach grumble and you were mentally thanking your green-haired hero for his considerate streak. He had literally no obligation to help you out in any way. He was no longer officially volunteering. He had nothing to gain. He was probably on his ways to get a couple of beers and blissfully pass out after an evening of fun with his roommates. But he had seen you in distress and decided to help, and it had warmed your heart and given you renewed energy. 

The kittens were left to sleep a little after you had given all the first help that you could under the phone-guidance of the local vet clinic, and now you were nervously waiting on the couch for Zoro to return. You were nervous cause of the kittens, but you also caught yourself being a little nervous about the fact that he’d be keeping you company for the night. Not that you were seeing this as a date of any kind, but just the mere idea gave you the shivers in a nervous kind of way. 

He arrived only a little after you sat down, bag with a big blanket and some drinks in one hand, and another one holding a steaming bag of takeaway food. “I’m sorry it took me so long, I got -” “lost” you chuckled, “no worries, I got the first things taken care off” 

You patted the spot next to you on the couch. “Sit down, thank you for getting food. And thank you for helping out… I… I think I might have had a little breakdown if it wasn’t for your presence” He shrugged off the praise. “I am already used to helping out here, and besides, I kind of liked spending time with you, so a little extra won’t hurt”. 

He said those words so easily, you wanted to smack him for how casual he was about it,  and how bluntly and honestly he expressed his feelings, while you shared the same feelings but didn’t dare utter a single word. You grabbed the food instead and the blanket, sitting down so you could both sit down comfortably, keep an eye on the kittens and eat without too many problems. He got the hint, and made himself more comfortable on the couch as well.

The evening flew by. You had food, checked up on the kittens regularly per the vet’s instructions, and since there were no other chores to do, you could actually have some proper talks with Zoro. He was still not really as talkative, but he answered your questions, told you some more details about his life that he had not mentioned before. You could almost physically feel yourself growing more and more attracted to him, and nearly felt guilty about it. 

Despite all the adrenaline wearing you off and making you tired, you stayed up a remarkably long time, Zoro’s company and the kittens keeping you awake for longer than you had expected to stay up. But now it was nearing 4am and you were feeling your eyelids grow heavy. You were telling Zoro something about why you dropped out of high school, but you kept losing track of your own sentences. You had to think long and hard before repeating the few words you had already said. The playful smirk that was present on his face as you were struggling to find cohesion in your story didn’t help either. He thought it incredibly endearing, and when your eyes finally shut without opening again, and a soft snore could be heard, he very carefully moved you a bit so you would lay more comfortably. He crossed his arms and legs and leaned back in order to get some shuteye as well. 

You woke up to your alarm, that you had set up to go off every few hours, just so you could check up on the kittens and go through all the steps again. Your eyes and whole body felt heavy and it was harder to get up than expected. Not only because you were incredibly tired still, but also because a muscled arm was snugly resting around your midsection. You were sure you had fallen asleep on one end of the couch, but for some reason, you were leaning on Zoro, and he had wrapped an arm around you to secure you and make sure you didn’t slip off the couch. 

Your heart skipped a beat and you got up rather briskly. Of course, the sudden movement made Zoro wake up as well, and he seemed just as embarrassed as you were about the slightly compromising positions you had been napping in. You quickly cleared your throat, muttering ‘kittens’ before standing up, checking up on the babies and going through the motions. Without having to say anything, Zoro got up and started the morning chores already. It was way too early for those, but before you could protest he said that he’d get them started as long as you were working on the kittens, so you both could have a little more rest before your planned vet visit. You gave him a grateful smile. 

When the work was done, you called Zoro back, and you both sat down on the couch again. He seemed incredibly relaxed, almost as if he had forgotten that you were practically cuddling a little while ago, the mere thought of the sensation of his strong arm holding you making your heart race again. You shifted positions seven times in the span of three minutes and you could feel him staring at you, one brow raised in confusion at your almost yoga-like contortions you were trying in order to get comfortable. 

“Are you okay y/n?” 

“Yeah...I...I just… I don’t know how I could ever thank you properly” “Well… I already got my credit. But your head resting on my chest was kind of nice. Maybe a goodnight kiss before we go to sleep again for a little while?” He sounded casual, but he was avoiding eye-contact, regretting the words as they left his mouth. Your eyes grew so big they were about to pop up out of your sockets. “I mean, if you don’t mind if not… I…” Now it was his turn to get flustered, the little bit of smooth talk he had had earlier completely gone as the inner panic set in of maybe misunderstanding your previous actions, glances, words, and ministrations. 

You gathered up all your courage, and gave him a soft peck on the lips, seeing his eyes widen in surprise and the tips of his ears turn red before you rested your head on his broad chest. “You know for that payment, I’m willing to hire you as a full time worker here.” you hummed contently. He let out a few confused grunts, surprised by your bout of confidence, not seeing that you were trying to hide the insane embarrassment on your face. Face red, he managed to utter just one response before you drifted off into sleep again. “I’m gonna need a little more payment than just that. But well, I’ll consider it” 

fin. 

[khangowrites]

Is it a Complaint Essay or is the Workplace Unsuitable?

Ah, what am I writing today? Oh, well I suppose it’s almost 12am. Seems like a good a time as any. I wanted to just jot down a few re-occurring experiences I’ve had in the workplace and sometimes in other social spaces, and attempt to analyze them.

CW: mild mentions of abuse and bodily ailments.

A bit of forward: I tend to mask myself heavily whenever I am in any social situation; whether it be at work, at home, with friends or online (although I’m getting better at being myself on Discord at least. I owe a lot to my friends who accept me and whom I care so much about.) What this means is I often plan out what I’m needed to say in advance of a situation. I have an arsenal of about 5 minutes of small talk before I tank and several small greetings/placations I can cycle through on any given day if I’m not overloaded. I also limit my natural inclination to movement.

It’s called unprofessional/unsightly to sit with your legs folded under you, or to sway and shake your arms and legs back and forth in time to music in your head. But it’s okay if you tap your pencil. Everyone does that.

I have to wonder how noticeable my ‘masked’ self is. How real or fake it appears.

There have been a few trends I’ve seen with the way people treat me as an employee in the time I’ve been in the workforce. For clarity, I am a 23 year old 5’1” AFAB person with a face that looks like it stopped aging when I was 12. I’m non-binary, but I’ve seen that many have a hard time using a different pronoun for me because I look ‘so feminine’. I had one old man repeatedly tell me that my body was too pretty and that I shouldn’t hide it and ‘pretend’ to be something else. I was and still am quite unsettled and disgusted by that comment.

I haven’t used my full preferred pronouns at work simply based in fear of being fired or discriminated against further. Same thing at home- I haven’t told all my family out of fear. I may look back on this at some future date where I fully respect myself and I’m confident. I look forward to that day.

Oh, and I’m autistic.

Perhaps it is one of these things or all of them that cause people to treat me certain ways. I’d like to find out.

I worked outdoors at an Orchard for a season. They called me Cinderella because of the way I looked when I cleaned. They gave employees gloves and heaters. Only not me. When I asked, I was given a broken one and told to fix it. A coworker who had intellectual disabilities and poor eyesight was not offered a heater at all. I did not renew for the next season. Kim and I stayed in touch though.

I worked next at a gift shop at a historical site. I loved the history and the old buildings, but the cashier work was admittedly difficult. Most of the employees were kind, retired old ladies who treated me gently, like a child. Sometimes too much like a child. The assistant manager seemed wary of me, and she often avoided me. I don’t know why. I’m not good with eye contact, and I always fear that people will mistake my zoning out as being creepy or disrespectful; maybe it was that. She never brought her kids with her on days I worked.

The head manager was courteous, but always called me Special. We had an older man work in the last 2 years I was there who had a strong inclination to associate with the children at the shop, and in turn, me as well. He would always want a hug or pat me on the back, but ignored the other workers. I told the managers my uncomfortable feelings about him, but it went mostly unnoticed.

When it was found that I was decent with computers, I was tasked with entering jewelry into the system and creating labels with number associations. I enjoyed it, and they promised me a decent raise. My pay was raised a dollar several weeks later, and I found myself being tasked with more and more computer work, to the point of becoming an office manager myself, earning a grand total of 9 dollars an hour while my counterpart who started a year earlier owned a home on the same work.

I left that job after 4 years to be the music director at a local church. I love music and was excited. Maybe too excited. I developed acid re-flux and was hospitalized the week before my start day due to a panic attack. I realize now it was from stress. I also had an ovarian cyst removed a year later- it took up my entire pelvis and its formation was also attributed to stress. I’ve since been diagnosed with generalized anxiety, and I continue to have ever changing digestive issues, muscle problems and panic attacks.

After realizing I was autistic and also non-binary, so much of the stress of life started to make sense. The past few months I have been making life changes, and working towards finding a workplace that is accommodating and safe for me. My stress has lessened.

I worked at the church for 2 years. My last day is actually at the end of this month. As is the trend, I was not treated with respect when it came to my job. My pastor started choosing the hymns over me, and would make comments about me during services. His favorite was to say that my music made him fall asleep, and wait for laughter from the congregation. He had no musical knowledge, and forced me to play every song as fast as I possibly could. He didn’t believe I could do my job. Any attempts at mutual work failed to manifest. I unfortunately was groomed by a member of the hiring committee there as well, a type of abuse I didn’t even realize I had fallen into until several months after it was too late.

I currently work at a high school as a choir accompanist. I use she/they pronouns there, but no one uses they and I’m too worried to be fully they like I am outside of work. I am wary of soiling my relationship with the director further. She’s quite religious in the ‘gays don’t have rights’ way, so I have my fears.

The director is kind, but sees me as this innocent child that happens to have natural piano abilities, and the mutual respect that I’ve come to dream of just isn’t there again.

The director has the key to the doors and lets students in without fail, but conveniently forgets to let me in almost every day. At one time, I was in physical therapy and had a hard time standing and walking for any period of time. I almost went home because she didn’t answer any communication, class started 20 minutes previously, and it was 90 degrees outside and I needed to sit down because my legs were cramping. She plans the music weeks in advance, but doesn’t give them to me until the day the students get it, despite my repeated asking for time to prepare.

One day I was on zoom and she and the student teacher greeted me and then ignored my presence and played the piano herself for class. She struggled with the parts and commented to the choir that, “wow, Ms. Khango is actually pretty dang good at this- that little girl can play!”, but didn’t listen to me when I offered to play. I left the zoom after an hour.

The online students seemed to share my surprise at least, and I am grateful to them. They kept me grounded and reminded me that I matter and should have the same respect as everyone else in the room, zoom or not. They talk to me about not being heard and their chats not being read during class. It bothered me, too. The next week I brought it up to her in the form of making sure the zoom students were heard and she quickly dismissed it, like it was a puff of smoke. The students online now ask me questions directly and I relay them. It’s met with annoyance by the director.

They have voices too.

One of the scariest moments of my life was last week- I wore my ‘disability rights are human rights’ shirt to school. (Okay, maybe not scary to some, but it very much was for me.) After class, one of the students came to me and asked if I could help him find a way for his grandfather to get a seat at the concert, as he was disabled and he didn’t know how to proceed.

It filled me with joy to help him, and it filled me with rage when the teachers asked if his grandpa could just get out of the wheelchair instead.

My overall conclusion to all of these things is that people simply don’t understand, or don’t want to because it makes their lives harder.

Is discrimination and ignorance really easier than respecting people?

I’m not sure if this is all just one big complaint essay. I guess it is. What I needed to do was write it all out. All the things that make me uneasy or feel like lesser of a person. And I wanted to know why.

I note that at every job I am perceived as a child, or as someone naïve. I am not treated the same as another adult employee. I was ostracized for my way of moving and talking. Taken advantage of. My needs were not accommodated.

Even now, I feel guilt for writing this, like I’m just playing the victim for attention or something.

I want to be strong enough to stand up to it and ask to be treated with respect and have it follow through.

I want to unmask myself more and let myself move and talk naturally, and use my real pronouns.

My respect for myself and for others must become a powerful force.

My friends on discord- my real, genuine friends, have become monumental in my life. Most of my life I did not have true friends. Without them and their unconditional love and support, I would not be where I am right now. We are all equals. I want to embody that strong respect and bring it to others.

It’s getting late. 1 a.m. now. Well, I have tomorrow. Plenty of time for Star Trek.

[deputyrhiannonhale]

Nodus Tollens Chapter 1

(A/N and ooc) ok everyone, here is my first chapter to my Far Cry 5 fic with my OC Rhiannon Hale. I've worked really hard on this character and I hope everyone enjoys her and her adventure!

I will add trigger warnings for each specific chapter, but the general triggers are: toxic relationship, canon-like violence, and mentions of abuse.

Also, if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

*****

Two years. That's all the time that had passed since Rhi left Hope County, to go back to Billings to settle her affairs and continue her training to become a police officer. Two years isn't long, especially not long enough for what Earl was telling her about how much had changed.

When she was recovering from her injuries and her step brother Deeter's death, she knew there was a, for lack of better terms, cult settling in the county. She had only had the one run in with a religious zealot, trying to tell her that her loved ones were in a better place, and now she's learning there had been plenty more and they had now been kidnapping people, buying up land, basically taking over.

Right now, she was even watching a video on her phone that got leaked of a "sermon"-Rhi uses that term loosely-where the leader gouged out the mans eyes who had been recording this video.

The streaming video started to buffer and finally cut off and Rhi made a frustrated sound. Earl tapped her knee, an amused smile on his face.

"I know, Unk, no service." Rhi stated on a scoff before he had the chance, as she put her phone back into the depths of her pocket. It was one of the things she didn't care for in this part of the state. Spotty cell phone service, and at the same time, it made her more uneasy this time around. She shook off her anxious feeling, assuming it was just first job jitters.

Rhi looked out of the helicopter, seeing a giant statue of the leader himself; Joseph Seed. 

"Wait...what is his last name?" Rhi asked, her head turning back so she could look between Burke and Earl.

"Seed?" Burke answered, his tone overly confused, and Rhi's blood ran cold causing her to shiver.

No, that had to be just a coincidence, right? Was Seed a common last name? Certainly John wasn't a part of this? He couldn't be...how could he have hidden something like this from her for literal months? Rhi shook her head again. Of course it was impossible. 

She looked down at her right forearm, her gloved hand tracing along the momento mori tattoo her John had given her back during those months. He's not related to this crazy man, she thought to herself, completely galvanized in her decision.

Rhi watched the ground as the helicopter slowly descended towards it, everything suddenly seeming surreal. A religious cult? It's something she'd only ever heard of when watching documentaries, never something she thought she would actually be face-to-face with.

She followed along behind Earl, Burke and Hudson, her head on a swivel, watching all of the Project members sizing them up. Rhi jumped when a dog began barking, causing her to curse under her breath. 

"Goddamnit, calm down!" She commanded herself, even though she had every right to be on edge, the air was thick with tension. Quickening her pace to catch up with the others at the church doors, Burke and Earl were still bickering as Joey touched Rhi's shoulder.

"You'll be fine." She encouraged, Rhi gave her a small lopsided smile before taking a deep breath and walking through the double doors.  

Rhi's heart was pounding, not really from nerves now, but from adrenaline, as the Project members slowly turned in their seats, eyeing the trio as they walked by. Rhi's body tensed, ready for a fight if needed, her eyes scanned the small room, taking it all in and that's when she saw him. Her body had NOT been ready for that.

John.

It had been her John all along. She felt her heart sink to her knees, her stomach was in knots, stinging of tears threatened however a more familiar feeling washed over her: anger.

He seemed just as taken aback to see her waltzing into the church dressed as a deputy, however, John quickly regained his composure, looking away from Rhi, which caused her anger to rise more. Why was he looking away from her? Acting like he doesn't know her? She watched as he moved to stand behind Joseph. She gritted her teeth, her tiny fists clenched at her sides, not even hearing what was being said anymore. She was fully aware of the tension building all around them as the church members gathered, she could hear the voices raising and she could feel her body temperature elevating, her cheeks were warm, her heartbeat was thumping loudly in her ears. All she was focused on was John though.

How the fuck could he lie to her about his involvement with this? Why the fuck did he hide this from her? What the fuck was the reasoning behind it? Or even his approaching her to begin with? The gears were turning a millions miles a minute as she began connecting dots.

John approached Rhi a day after her run in with who she now realizes was Joseph. She was mad and hurt about Deeter's suicide, and she was being irreverent towards Joseph trying to use religion to help her feel better.

Of course.

"John, what the fuck?!" Rhi's outburst was unexpected, causing Earl and Burke to look at her wildly, as she stepped forward, not even looking at them, her hazel eyes only glaring daggers at the youngest Seed brother. She felt Earl place a hand on her shoulder, not understanding how she even knows John Seed personally enough to speak to him like she has. She could see the tall red headed man-he had to be Jacob-flanking on Joseph's right side give John a confused glance, but John didn't take his eyes off Rhi, her nostrils flared at his silence.

Rhi twisted away from Earl's touch, shooting him a quick, don't touch me look, before turning her attention back over Joseph's shoulder to glare at John once more. 

"How could you not tell me about this, huh?" She shouted, waving her hand around, gesturing towards Joseph and the church. "Was it all fun for you? Did you guys have a good laugh at the poor girl who was dealing with her step brother's death?" Rhi continued, her hand on her hip as her free hand was still motioning around wildly. Joseph looked over his shoulder at John, a clear frown on his face, he didn't approve of whatever was going down here between them.

"Rhi…" Earl's voice finally broke through her anger and she turned her glare onto her uncle, but seeing his face, which was a mix of confusion, disapproval and disappointment in her actions, the wrath left her veins immediately replaced by embarrassment over her scene. "Do you want to just cuff him, rookie?" Earl's tone was enough to get Rhi to focus back in what they were here for. Joseph's arms were still extended out to her, her outburst happening so quickly, no one really had a chance to fully process it.

"God will not let you take me." Joseph promised, and Rhi scoffed before she squared her shoulders and cleared her throat, as she grabbed the handcuffs from her belt and clicked them onto Joseph's wrists all while keeping eye contact with John. She could see his jaw muscles flexing and bunching as he witnessed his brother being arrested by the woman he had grown so close too. Jacob looked over at his brother and quickly shook his head, and John lowered his eyes to the floor as Rhi pushed Joseph out in front of her and placed her hand firmly on his shoulder and led him out of the church.

"Sometimes the best thing to do...is walk away." Joseph whispered softly, Rhi just rolled her eyes, and forcefully pressed her hand on his shoulder.

Rhi was so furious at John she barely paid attention to the members surrounding them as she paraded Joseph to the helicopter, she was muttering to herself, as if she was still fussing at John.

"You've grown close to my brother, my child?" Joseph's voice broke into her train of thoughts and she glared at the back of his head.

"Don't call me that." Rhi snapped, rolled her eyes, and she heard him chuckle, tightening her grip on his shoulder. She didn't want his eyes on her again. That intense stare really unnerves her. "Like you don't fucking know." She muttered under her breath, putting emphasis on her lewd word just for him. 

"I had sent him to you, yes, to bring you to us. I could see in your eyes you needed a family to love you unconditionally." Joseph admitted, softly, and Rhi's breath hitched in her throat at his words. 

"Yeah, well, he failed. Now shut up and just walk." Rhi retorted in lame attempt to sound tough, but he had hit a nerve. How could he have seen so much in her? Was she that easy to read? She had spent so much of her life building a wall around herself, she hated to know she was still so transparent, even if it had been noticed during her time of mourning.

It wasn't until they nearly made it to the chopper and a rock being thrown at Burke brought her back to her senses. It all turned into a blur of screaming and Rhi being forced into the helicopter with Joseph and the others.

All she could focus on was the creepy way Joseph was singing Amazing Grace, was this song supposed to be comforting? Maybe it was just his calmness in this distressing moment, she realized then he fully believed God would stop this.

Rhi's body was being jostled around as she tried to hurriedly fasten the safety belt around her waist after shoving away a woman with a shaved head, other project members throwing themselves at the helicopter, trying to pull Joseph out, trying to bring the chopper down? Who knew at this point. Rhi was beginning to panic just as the alarm bells started sounding off as the helicopter lost control as she grabbed a hold of her seat and they all braced for impact.

~~

Rhi groaned and slowly opened her eyes, hearing different voices that were distorted, like she was hearing them from underwater. She was looking around trying to get her bearings, the others were knocked unconscious still, and she touched Joey's neck to make sure she was still alive, she was met with a steady heartbeat and she sighed in relief. Rhi fully snapped to her senses, realizing everything was upside down, and finally looked to where her safety belt was the only thing that was keeping her from being on the upper part of the helicopter. It was cutting into her and she fumbled with it, trying to unbuckle it when she heard Nancy calling over the radio.

"Nancy!" She called out hopefully, reaching out in vain trying to grab the dangling headset before her. "Oh come the fuck on!" Rhi growled out, her fingers were nearly on it when a hand grabbed her wrist firmly. She screamed in surprise as Joseph's visage came into view, his blue eyes focused on her hazel ones intensely as he grabbed the headset for himself. 

It was almost as if static was filling her ears, she couldn't believe what she was hearing as she listened to the exchange between the Father and Nancy...she was in on all of this?! That fucking traitor. Rhi's blood began to boil again, as Joseph leaned in closer to her face.

"No one is coming to save you." A chill shot down Rhi's spine at his soft spoken promise, and she watched him as he was climbing out of the helicopter.

Rhi began to scramble, trying to undo her safety belt but it was jammed. Panic caused a bad taste at the back of her throat as she periodically looked back to the cult as Joseph was babbling about starting some reaping. 

The group came back towards the chopper, grabbing everyone in it, Joey began screaming, trying to get away, as Rhi grabbed onto her leg trying to save her, but it was a worthless attempt.

"EARL!" Rhi shouted, as her hands went back to the buckle at her waist, watching helplessly as her still unconscious uncle was dragged away from her. "UNK WAKE UP!" She was on the verge of tears, as Burke got her attention.

"We gotta get outta here!" He shouted to her and she growled.

"Nah shit!" She spat at him as she continued to struggle, watching as he got free and just ran, her jaw slackened by the fact that he ran off without trying to help her.

A rush of adrenaline got her focused and she finally got herself free and she crashed onto the top of the helicopter hard. She grunted, holding her elbow tenderly before that little voice in her head yelled 'RUN'.

Like a bolt of lightning, Rhi shot out of the chopper, stumbling slightly as she ran towards the wooded area where she had seen Burke disappear.

She had no idea where she was going as she heard bullets whizzing by her head, she ducked and weaved through the trees, her lungs burning as she willed her legs to pump harder. Rhi was putting as much distance between her and her pursuers as she possibly could. There were so many of them and only one of her. 

Rhi came to a drop off that landed her in a small pond. The water was cool against her flushed skin from her run, but she didn't give herself time to enjoy it before she was out and jogging again.

"Hello, is anyone there?" It was Burke's voice on her radio, she pulled it from the clip on her belt, and was about to chuck it into a tree out of pure spite against him for leaving her for dead, but the logical side of her brain told her that he may be her only way of getting out of this mess.

Rhi listened and followed where he gave his location.

Instead of unloading onto Burke all her thoughts of him, she just stewed in it as she ran to find the trailer he was talking about. How could he have left her for dead like that? He better have a damn good reason behind it. Maybe she should have told him she was on her way?

That thought came a little too late as she opened the door and Burke attacked her.

"Hey asshole, it's me!" Rhi shouted, swinging back at him out of instinct, and he made an audible noise and backed off.

"Rook, oh god, it's you." He said relieved and she rolled her eyes, straightening her jacket back out.

"Yeah, it's me. Fuck dude." Rhi understood why he'd attacked her, he did send a message out over the radio, probably an unsecured line and yeah she also realized that she should have told him she was coming. They were both a little at fault here.

Rhi checked the rooms as Burke explained that there was a truck outside and that they needed to get out and back to Missoula before coming back and saving the others. Rhi wasn't 100% that they should leave the others behind right now, but what choice did she really have?

"Ok, I'll guard at the window and if any of those Peggies show up, I'll cover you while you get the truck going." Rhi agreed as she picked up the nearby rifle, checking to see if it was loaded. 

She watched as Burke left the trailer and she shattered the glass with the butt of the rifle, positioning herself comfortably at the window, looking through the scope, she began firing on the cult members that emerged from the woods.

Rhi ducked down from the opening to reload her gun, taking a deep breath to clear the thoughts from her head. She was so worried about her uncle, she knew he could take care of himself, but she just couldn't handle the thought of another family member being hurt. Rhi kept hearing Deeter's voice in her head: 'Just relax. Picture the gun as an extension of you. An extension of your arm. Imagine the bullet as part of you, straight from your arm until it lodges into the target.' She was zoned in when she lined her shot back up, taking a few more out when Burke finally blew the truck horn to get her attention. After popping off a few more rounds to buy herself time, Rhi left her position, breaking another window, she hurtled herself out of the house and into the truck with Burke.

"GET THE FUCK OFF US!" Rhi screamed as she leaned out of the window, firing more shots at the tires of the trucks following them, trying to get the cult off their tail.

"Fuckin' Nancy…" She heard Burke mummer under his breath as she finally sat down in the seat. Rhi took several deep breaths, getting a moment to relax. "Damn, they've blocked the road!" He shouted and Rhi scoffed, wiping the sweat off her brow.

"Of course they fucking have. Just bust the fuck through it!" Rhi demanded, leaning back out of the window, spraying bullets and watching the Peggies scatter to take cover as Burke sped the truck up.

"There's dynamite in the back! Use it!" He screamed at Rhi, who nodded and grabbed several of the sticks as gently as she could, she leaned back inside long enough to get Deeter's lighter from her pocket, lit the first stick, and chucked it into the cab of the truck closest to them.

The Peggies in the truck cursed and bailed from the vehicle moments before the dynamite exploded and Rhi laughed, before a light above her got her attention, she rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated growl before flipping back into her seat, placing the lighter lovingly back into her pocket, patting it before turning to face Burke and pointing out the back window at the helicopter hovering them. 

"Oh fuck me running! They have air support too? What the actual fuck man?!" Burke looked into the rearview and cursed loudly, slapping the steering wheel hard. 

"They're in front of us too!" He pointed out, and Rhi looked in front of them as they were getting ready to cross the bridge that would lead to their freedom. Rhi once again leaned out the window, shooting the man who was manning the mounted gun, but she knew they didn't stand a chance when the bridge exploded and Burke jerked the wheel to the right and they plummeted from the bridge into the river below.

*****

Tagging: @ja-crispea @returnofthepd3 @dieguzguz @shelliechen @f0xyboxes @ramadiiiisme @hopecountygazette (lemme know if you dont want to be tagged)

[ambistep]

Play Date, part 2

Herald’s got more training, Nehal has a mission and lots of weird feelings - she should probably see someone about that. Mina just has to sit and watch. Can you separate the art from the context or is Frederic Remington’s work irredeemably tethered to the atrocities of America’s westward expansion? Maybe we’ll talk about it.

Retribution spoilers, implied hypothetical eye trauma, Nehal PoV. Extensive Headcanon for her character~

Part 1 is here

It’s weird seeing her like this - in a gym, in gym clothes. Like she’s just some sort of normal person, some young professional getting in a workout before she goes back to the office. Like she’s not your weirdly comforting-and-psychotic boss who puts on a suit of armor to go stomp in the faces of the city’s hailed heroes and government pigs alike. Only the scars really give her away - one along her brow, the back of her left hand, the burn on the side of her neck. Every now and again, you catch a look in her eyes, past her eyes, and catch a glimpse of… whatever batshit craziness it is that’s fueling Clarity. You wonder if other people notice - or maybe you imagine you notice because you’re looking for it. Whatever that thing is, it’s wild.

But that’s what makes it fun, right? 

This time, she catches you looking, “...you listening?” Shit. You weren’t. Does she know? She could be reading your mind - she says she doesn’t, she promises but… like, the government says they aren’t spying on you either, so who knows?

“...yeah.”

“Worst lie you’ve told all day,” she crosses her arms - long sleeves, always long sleeves, you noticed - that’s deliberate, everything she does is deliberate - maybe it’s more scars there? She raises an eyebrow, coolly chiding you, “You lose focus for one second in this game a-”

“-and it all comes apart. I know, I know. I can handle it.” You can’t help but grin. She’s worse than Mom - well, that’s not true. But damn if the similarities aren’t there.

“Don’t underestimate him - he’s bad with real world stuff, logistics, common sense but he reads people well, good with emotions, sensitive.” Her voice is low, cutting, steely, you have to nod, trying to do your part to be a good student. “You use that, carefully. Like we talked about.”

“Like we talked about ten times already, I got it, Mina.” It still felt weird, calling her that, but a little part of you is proud you got that name out of her, that she trusted you enough to let you in on this. It almost seems like a real name but who knows with her?

“He’s here. Laugh. Be funny.” She does that thing, where she changes modes - the hard, bitter lines vanish from her face, years seem to melt away, and you’d swear it was some sort of shapeshifting power. She puts a hand on your shoulder, smiling with what seems to be real warmth, maybe real affection - damn, she’s good at this. “You’re a natural, just… be Nehal.”

You do the same, not as dramatic as her mode switch - but there’s still a small leap from you to well-behaved you - . You throw up your hand in an enthusiastic wave to the angel-headed hero striding into the gym. 

He’s cute - but he looks cuter on television, you have to admit. Maybe he wears makeup? Doesn’t really strike you as the sort. Pretty blue eyes, makes you want to jab them with your thumbs - bad instinct, weird instinct, Nehal, what the hell? Maybe examine that drive later. 

“Herald, this is Nehal.” Clarity smiles, just bubbly enough to make it creepy, soooo creepy. Herald doesn’t notice - of course he doesn’t, because he doesn’t know who she is, so it’s not creepy for him, duh, Nehal. “Nehal, this is… well, this is your play date. ...Herald can get wrapped up, we’ll get started.”

He smiles, and it’s dazzling, makes you want to pull out his teeth or kiss those pouty lips, you can’t be totally sure which is, cool, cool cool cool. Not weird. “Sure, Mina.” He drops his bag, unzips it and starts to wrap up his hands - you see the slight favoring of his right leg she mentioned, but he’s not thinking about his leg, he’s looking at you, “Hey, I appreciate you being cool about this - Nehal, right?” 

Maybe he thinks you’re starstruck or something - maybe the boss thinks you’re playing that up on purpose - but it’s just weird, talking to him, like everything’s normal, like he’s not a Los Diablos Ranger, government law enforcement. And he’s not, he’s… he’s only a couple of years older than you, right? Just some guy. Weird. “Oh, um, yeah. Sorry.” You laugh, a nervous laugh, “It’s all cool, everything’s cool… Herald.” You try out the name - it isn’t his name. Clarity said he was a bit private about the thing. She knew, but she wasn’t telling, so you wouldn’t mess it up. Fair.

The boss settles back on one of the weight benches, doing her Teacher bit, her Pop Quiz voice. You know it well. “Alright, Herald, she’s smaller than you, she’s had training, so what’s she going to do?”

He claps his hands together, working out his limbs, “Uh, she’s going to… probably get in close, try and use my momentum against me.” He tosses his hair back, shrugs his shoulders at you. You flex a little, pose like you’re a threat, flash him a goofy wink. Just a student. You like iced coffee and avocados, right? You are like the other girls. Smile. 

“And what are you going to do?”

Herald spreads out his stance a little, but it’s uneasy, unpracticed, clearly not his preferred style,  “I’m going to plant, use my reach.” 

“Alright, Nehal, what about you? He’s bigger than he seems, and despite that goofy smile, he knows how to handle himself.” Clarity - no, Mina - has her eyes on you.

“Um, I dunno, go for his legs, right?” Your voice hits an octave higher than you meant to. Maybe that was too much. She raises an eyebrow a little - so, yeah, too much. You’re supposed be a nice girl for now, not stupid. 

“Alright, you’re going to take turns going through your forms, slowly. I want you to watch each other’s movements, watch shoulders, watch hips. Learn. We’ll… go through all that, some drilling, then sparring.

You lean in and bump your wrapped fist against him, “Let’s make this look good, I don’t want her to get all grumpy.”

He laughs, an easy laugh, so he knows exactly what you mean, “Don’t worry, I’m already on thin ice.”

~

He’s not as bad as Clarity had said - maybe she’s just too demanding. She’d made it sound like he was a rank amateur, some kid, but he’s actually pretty decent. Maybe not as good as the boss or Charge or something, but most people aren’t. You’ve worked up a real good sweat - it’s been fun, fighting him. He’s got such a pretty jawline, and an easy humor, a lightness about him with just a tinge of sadness you can sniff off of him - you see it in the worried looks he holds after knocking you on your ass in the last bout. He comes from money, you’d wager, it’s just something in that flavor of softness.

But not this time - he’s stronger than you, stronger than he looks, maybe from his Boost? But he’s still slow, and the boss is right, his heart’s never really in it, he can’t make himself fight hard in the gym, because it’s just a game for him, and you’re just some girl. You go in for the right knee, and his footwork is slow, he’s protecting it, protecting it too much, so he’s not ready when you slip your arm around his and twist. Insufferable, pretty blond thing.

“That’s enough.” Clarity’s voice brings you back to good senses - that command, that threat in her throat, that’s definitely the boss, not Mina. You recognize you have your hand reaching for Herald’s throat, a foot stepping on his, and his arm still twisted around yours. Shit, where’d you go off to? Lost your focus, like she warned you, dumb dumb dumb. Herald is looking at you, confused, unsure, worried. Not worried you might hurt him, worried about you. Concerned for you. Clarity’s instruction would be to use that. 

You bite your lip, tilt your eyebrows up, “Sorry, um, I got a little carried away.” Apologize, profusely. It’s good that he’s worried, pull him in, but gently. Is that your thought? It feels like maybe it’s your thought, but maybe it isn’t. Shit.

Clar’s up from her seat, scowling - but not real scowling, this is… different. This is Mina scowling, not the scary kind. And she’s aiming it at your opponent, “That was sloppy. You let your guard down because she’s not Oryx or Deadeye or whoever, but anyone who steps in front of you and squares up - you need to respect them, Herald.” She uses that name like a barb, probably the hardest blow he’s taken today. “Even when training - especially when training.” 

Finally, she turns to look at you, “You, you need to focus.” You lost control, you know, you know. She always says that but, shit, it just slips sometimes, like blacking out. Should probably think about that. The boss gives you a curt nod, “Thanks for coming though, I think this’ll help both of you a lot. I’m going to talk to Herald here a bit longer.” That’s your cue, clean up, scoot out.

~ 

It’s a good fifteen minutes of waiting outside the gym before Teacher finishes up with Herald and he comes out looking a little sulky. But you’re there to greet him - he puts on a smile for you. You reflect that smile back at him, “She really let you have it, huh?”

He’s a little sheepish, scratching the back of his neck, “It’s fine, I’ve faced worse villains.” You can’t help but laugh, snort just a bit. He totally hasn’t. “What about you, you okay?” Neat how he does that when he gets uncomfortable, turns it around into concern for others.

“Oh.” Are you okay? How were you going to play this again? Apologize again. “Yeah, I mean… I hope I didn’t hurt you, I just…” His smile is soft, and getting broader. “...what?”

“It’s okay, Mina told me you were going through some stuff.” Hell. What did she say to him?  “That was a good move though, with the arm twist. Training with Sidestep pays off, right?”

She was right, he couldn’t help himself. You put on your best confusion, “Sorry, who?” 

“She didn’t tell you?” When does he ever not look bashful, “Oh, man, I thought you knew she was a hero.”

You downplay it a little, “She told me she did like… some vigilante stuff. But no, I guess I didn’t know.” Like you didn’t go on the internet and start searching every single thing you could about the boss’s old days the second you’d found out. “Listen, I usually get a smoothie at this place around the corner, you wanna… y’know?”

You hadn’t planned to do the smoothie thing til next week. Clar warned you about rushing things but your instincts tell you he’s down for smoothies. “Sure, yeah! That sounds great.” 

Nailed it. 

~

The smoothies are alright - there’s a better smoothie joint, but it’s further away from the gym, and neither of you have a car. He’s… charming. She did warn you he would be. He’s just real likable, and that’s sort of insufferable all on it’s own. 

“I guess, I just can’t really see him as some sort of monster.” His hair has flopped into his eyes, and he’s had different versions of that smile plastered to his face. People pass by you two - some take a second look, but people don’t seem to really think that would be Herald, sitting on a park bench in street clothes, you guess.

“I’m not saying he’s a monster, he’s human, but like… Remington’s first real work was him covering the US government’s war against Geronimo, his entire damn oeuvre is romanticization of westward expansion. He built the public consciousness of the - the Western frontier for decades, and his romantic imagery totally papered over atrocities. So much so that we have a hard time convincing people that there even was a genocide, to this day.” Careful, focus, you get all excited like this, ‘geeked up on injustice’ as ZaZa put it. It scares people off.

But he doesn’t look too scared, “Sure, but do you think he knew he was doing that?”

You dig around in the bottom of your cup for the last of the smoothie, “I mean, he was there!” 

“Yeah, but I mean, it’s hard for people to see themselves as part of this whole big thing, in the moment. Maybe he should have known better, but there wasn’t the right person there to make him reflect.” He’s so nice about it, it almost makes you ease off your ‘fuck Frederic Remington’ position. Almost. He slurps his smoothie - he’s empty too.

You nod a little - this is the right time to surrender, “Y’know, you’re different than I thought. I figured like, Marshal Steel was King Cop, and the rest of the Rangers would have that big cop energy. But you seem alright.” He has… nice energy, doing-his-best energy.

You can sort of see it now, what Clarity had meant - that this whole thing was about helping him out too - that he doesn’t have to be The Enemy. Seemed a little self-serving at the time, and maybe it still is - an excuse to manipulate him - but the rationalization must have helped her. It helps you too. 

“Well. Thanks.” He leans back, eyebrows up, trying to parse what to make of your compliment, “I guess.”

You hold up your fingers, pinching them together, “Little bit of cop energy though. We’ll work on that. In return, next time, I’ll try not to drop the g-word, alright? I know it’s kind of a buzzkill.”

He blinks a little, laughing, “G-word?” You can see him searching… “Oh. Genocide. No, it’s good. I don’t get to talk about this sort of stuff with… well, my colleagues. The big cops.” 

“No? Charge not a big fan of the Hudson River School?” It’s easy to tease, but more difficult to keep yourself from going harder.

His laugh is perfect somehow, full and honest, “Not exactly. I think she’s more into Hawaiian print.” He looks into your eyes, searching. Shit, why does that make you nervous? “Next time sounds good.”

“Alright. Next time then, Herald.”

“Yeah…” For the first time, he actually looks a little nervous, unsure of himself, “...It’s Daniel.”

Smoothies today had been the right call. Definitely. You don’t have to put on any fake smiles. Thinking back, you haven’t had to fake anything for awhile with him. That’s nice. Should probably reflect on that. “Cool. See you next time.” You point a finger at him as you turn to head off, “Don’t go so easy on me though, alright?”

He’s back at ease, effortlessly sweet, “Same.” It takes a moment for you to figure - he’s taller because he’s floating, and he’s floating, because he’s… leaving - there he goes.

You watch him ascend and dart off, beyond your vision, and almost missing him already. 

Shit. That was a good mission. ZaZa’s going to be jealous as fuck.

[wolfcrunch]

75, Izuku and Kaminari, angst? It might be a weird combo idk.

this was a really fun combo to write!! i haven’t written much kaminari before, so i hope i did him justice!

Prompt #75 - Can I be alone right now?

read on AO3 - request a prompt and character(s) for me to write!

Izuku would like to think that he had a pretty good grasp on the characters that made up his class, thank you very much. Not even a year had passed since they had started here, at U.A, and Izuku would be proud to call the nineteen other members of his class his friends.

Aside from the boy being very knowledgeable in all of their quirks (although this was not something he liked admitting out loud), but he figured he knew a great deal about the individual hobbies his classmates took on, or other little quirky things about them others might not notice.

He knew that Iida always set aside an hour for reading every day, except Sunday’s where he did two. He knew Uraraka, despite her money issues, often liked to partake in homemade craft, often using disposable items that people were about to recycle. He knew that Asui (no, Tsu, he reminded himself) had a collection of pebbles and small rocks in her room, some she had been holding onto since she was a small child with a variety of colors, sizes and shapes.

Kirishima often liked to make his own little wooden figurines that he painted as gifts, thanks to his quirks. Ashido was amazingly good at cooking spicy foods, sometimes even managing to rival Kacchan. Tokoyami would take any sweaters or jumpers that somehow got left in the common room, ’borrowing’ them in his room for the time being and Jirou seemed to, surprisingly, be a big fan of classical and orchestral music. Yaoyorozu and Kouda seemed to both be fans of writing and drawing, respectively.

Last he knew, the latter two were trying to work together and make a short story about their classmates, which he honestly couldn’t wait to see.

But yes, Izuku would say that he knew all of his classmates fairly well - even Kacchan, as hostile as ever, seemed to have a fascination in reptiles of all creatures, and was currently set on getting permission from Mr. Aizawa to bring one to the dorms.

The boy didn’t know if this was normal or not…after all, before coming to U.A, he hadn’t had many, if any friends at all, reluctant to even consider that Kacchan so close…so can you really blame him, wanting to know everything he could about his classmates?

 But if he was being honest…there was one classmate who despite all of this, and despite his own outwardly demeanor…Izuku had to admit that he knew the least about this particular student. 

And it wasn’t that he wasn’t observing the other - it was quite the opposite, really. It just appeared that the student, Kaminari, knew how to hide his interests extremely well. It wasn’t something one would call the electricity-quirked user - secretive.

But…Izuku didn’t know what else to put to the other boy. Maybe he was just really shy with whatever it was that he liked doing? But surely he knew none of the class would laugh or make fun of him…

Not to mention that he wasn’t exactly the closest with the blond - who was usually a member of Kacchan’s small group, and the thought of asking the explosive blond leader was out of the question. Kacchan would tell him…but in his own loud, profanity-filled Kacchan-esque way.

No, if Izuku wanted to get closer to another classmate, this was the perfect opportunity. This was his chance.

 And Izuku might not be the best when it came to socializing and getting together with others…but surely it couldn’t be that hard, right?

 —–

 "Ah, Kaminari!!“

Izuku had waited until the following Monday, carefully keeping an eye on the blond as the group finished their classes for the day, waiting until they all got back to the dorms before he decided to approach the other with a raised hand and a light call. The boy startled out of whatever conversation he’d been having with Mineta, and Izuku only felt a little bad.

Judging by the blush and slight nosebleed on Mineta’s face, he should give himself a bigger pat on the back for stopping wherever that talk had been heading.

"Midoriya?”

The other hero-in-training looked confused, and Izuku couldn’t really blame him - neither went out of their way that much to talk about one another. Izuku could only smile sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah, it’s about the English assignment we got today…I know you’re pretty good with English, and Todoroki’s not available to help out today…mind if we maybe work out the assignment together?”

Kaminari looked shocked, as if he’d literally shocked himself with his own quirk. “You want me…to help you?”

 In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the best excuse…but Izuku wasn’t exactly lying either. His English could be downright awful at times. Even with his admiration of All Might…it left him with something less than desired.

 "I…I don’t think I could really be that helpful, eh? I’d just be distraction…“

Izuku refused to back down, "Think about it, Kaminari– you say you always have trouble writing it all down, right? We can help each other…I could even give you some notes on our Maths and Art classes-”

Kaminari moved in the blink of an eye, snatching Izuku’s arms. “Why didn’t you say anything before?! Man, not that I appreciate help from Kacchan, but he can be a reaaaal bummer!”

Izuku smiled at the use of his childhood friend’s nickname, letting the other teen start to drag him along towards the elevators. “So I take that as a yes?”

“Totally!! Oh, dude, we’re gonna have soo much fun!” It seemed as if Kaminari forgot the whole reason they were doing this already, “We’ll go to my room…no offence, but studying and doing homework, All Might watching me from every corner? A real creepy vibe, dude.”

 "Haha, yeah…….wait, what?“

 —–

 "Just throw your stuff wherever ya need to, bro!”

Izuku had seen the blond’s room once - when they had first moved in. He’d been…surprised, sure, by the others taste. But this…

“What an…interesting set up…”

Izuku had no clue where to look first. Kaminari just grinned, trotting right in and all but dumping his schoolbag onto the small table in the middle of the room, books spilling out as he searched through to find his English book.

 And that’s when Izuku saw it.

 A small notebook slid out, falling off the edge and landing on the floor with a quiet thump. Kaminari, too engrossed in finding the correct schoolwork, didn’t notice as Izuku walked over, picking up the notebook carefully in both hands.

It seemed to be about the same size as most of his quirk analysis notebooks…and it seemed extremely worn out, like it had been used a lot. On the front, in big kanji, was just one word that make the unruly-haired teen’s eyes lighten up in excitement.

‘QUIRKS’

Ehhh?! Kaminari keeps a book on quirks?! I mean, I guess it could be anything really…maybe he just thinks of quirks that would be cool to have? Or maybe…

“Hey, Kaminari? I never knew you were one for liking to know things about quirks!” Izuku proclaimed, waving the book around shyly with a hand as the blond’s head whipped up to look at him with wide eyes. Izuku just grinned, turning the notebook over in his hands, almost admiring it. “We should compare notes sometime! It’d be interesting to see how different or alike our notes could be…do you keep updated on heroes or just the class?”

As Izuku spoke excitedly, his scarred fingers began to open the cover of the book. He had no time to react to what came next. As fast as a snake striking, Kaminari’s hand grabbed onto Izuku’s wrist, squeezing tightly as the other hand grasped the book, snatching it out of Izuku’s own.

All Izuku could do was give some sort of yelp of surprise, yanking his hand back hard enough to almost stumble the other teen with his eyes wide.

A throbbing pain started in Izuku’s wrist, and he hissed, covering it with his free hand. “What was that for?”

The One for All user hadn’t seen how Kaminari’s face darkened, snapping back. “You shouldn’t open up other people’s stuff, Midoriya.”

 Izuku had never heard as much malice in the others tone, and even Kaminari seemed caught off guard, taking a step back. “Holy crap dude, I didn’t mean to snap!” he murmured apologetically, keeping his distance as he set the notebook aside on his shelf. “Really, I was way out of line…my notes aren’t any good though, sorry to grab you like that. Is your wrist alright?”

“Ah…yeah, it’s ok…” Izuku mumbled , stretching his fingers before looking at the boy who’d lashed out. “It should be fine.”

“Let me go get you an ice pack from downstairs!” Kaminari insisted, hurrying towards his door. “We can compare notes when I get back, if you’re still up for it?”

“…sure.”

 Izuku didn’t like the unease crawling in his gut, listening halfheartedly as the other told him to sit down and wait before dashing out. Izuku’s free hand tentatively rubbed at his sore wrist, frowning slightly at the force his classmate had decided to use.

Man, I mean, he’s right…but I’ve never seen Kaminari react like that before, and I know he tends to let other people get way closer than that…

An uneasy thought nagged at him, suggesting that perhaps the other had been hiding something within the notebooks contents - but Izuku decided to push that away with a shake of his head. This was Kaminari, after all, one of the nicest people in the class! Surely he, of all people, wasn’t hiding anything to warrant that kind of reaction…

But…

Izuku found himself carefully, quietly heading to the very same shelf Kaminari had put the notebook in the middle of the conflict, only hesitating for a few moments before he reached out, taking the item and sighing softly.

This feels really bad but…I feel like something’s…

Izuku couldn’t really put his finger on the unnatural, bad feeling about it all.

He opened the book–

only for the first page to be empty.

 Frowning, Izuku flipped through the next five, that were equally as blank, and stopped for a moment, eyes raking down the page critically. 

Is it invisible ink maybe? Or maybe he hasn’t even written anything…

But the hero student flipped to the next page, and his throat ran dry. For this page was full…very full. He nearly dropped it, green eyes frantically scanning the pages.

 His stomach crawled as he read the information on the page.

 Name: Aoyama Yuuga (Hero Name: Can’t Stop Twinkling)

D.O.B: 30/5/2XXX

Quirk: Naval Laser

Strengths: Able to shoot out laser in various spots with hero costume. Hyper-aware of surroundings. Able to bend his own light in various shapes. His quirk is exceptionally powerful on its own, and he has deadly accurate aim.

Weaknesses: Stomach hurts after using quirk at full-blast for 10-20 seconds. Has a bit of an ego. Body isn’t very adaptable to his quirk without his belt. Seems to be the odd one out in the class, and acts strangely around them - stands out.

Aoyama seems to think extremely highly of himself, and it would be quite easy to go under the guise of a fan of his, or even a civilian asking about what he calls his “fashion sense”. He loves anything related to France, as well as cheese. Not terribly too smart, but not one you would want to mess with, either. Has not yet trained himself in much when it comes to hand-to-hand or quirkless battling, and being hit with his quirk isn’t an option. Close range battling is best for taking him out.

Rating: 1/5. Body is too unstable to use for different quirks -  however his quirk, with the right base, would be acceptable for H.E.N Project #021

 and that wasn’t all - in any clear space were pictures of the boy himself in all his glory, for once unaware a photo had been taken. There was also a picture taken of the boys hero costume, little bits of writing detailing every part, and even where he would be most vulnerable to strike.

On the next page stated more information about the other blond in their class - his birthplace, current address, and even the basic information about his immediate family - and their quirks, too!

What the hell is all of this…? And this H.E.N Project…

 Izuku wanted to put the book down and leave, feeling a chill go down his spine…but the boy kept going, flicking through the pages and feeling his stomach sink even lower with every filled page he came across.

Ashido Mina

Asui Tsuyu

Iida Tenya

Uraraka Ochako

Mashirao Ojirou

Kirishima Eijirou

Kouda Koji

Satou Rikido

Shouji Mezou

Jirou Kyouka

Sero Hanta

Tokoyami Fumikage

Todoroki Shouto

Hagakure Tooru

Bakugou Katsuki…

 and finally,

 Midoriya Izuku

 Izuku didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, staring at the bottom of Kacchan’s final page before turning it to his own, not sure what he was suppose to be expecting. Well, what he had been expecting, at the least, was writing about as detailed as all his other classmates.

But how wrong he was.

Kaminari’s assessment on him didn’t only have pictures on the hero student himself - no. There were pictures of several others - heroes.

All Might and Gran Torino.

Izuku’s heart sped up, all air leaving his lungs when he also noticed older photos - not of him, but of an younger Gran Torino, of a younger All Might.

Of Shimura Nana. All Might’s mentor.

Izuku’s hands shook as he finally read the information listed, although his green eyes only stuck to one very specific part, one that just about sent the boy into pure terror at the thought of being found out.

 Quirk: One for All.

Counterpart to All for One. One for All allows Midoriya to have access to immense speed and strength. He is currently the ninth holder, inheriting the quirk from All Might, and is likely being trained to be the next Symbol of Peace. One for All grows as the holder grows and mends with the quirk themselves, meaning that Midoriya’s output will eventually be much stronger than that of All Might in his prime. It also appears that One for All can influence the user whenever stuck under any quirks that capture their mind, or force them to go against their will. One for All is not able to be stolen, and can only be passed with the holder’s permission. This quirk can cause dreams forced by those previous, some of which can cause the quirk to lash out violently whilst the current user is sleeping.

 No…no way…Kaminari…

He know’s about One for All!

 Izuku slammed the book shut, putting the book back where he found it as he stumbled back, eyes wide and body almost trembling. His hands found their way to the straps of his backpack, clutching tightly.

He knows about One for All…I know I’ve almost spilled it a couple of times, but there can’t be any way he could’ve heard one of my talks with All Might, or even Kacchan…No one else would’ve told him. No one else knew the secret and Kaminari well enough to talk about it, especially not to his face! What the heck am I suppose to tell All Might?!

…..

Unless…

 All for One.

It felt as if cold water had been thrown over Izuku at the suggestion conquered up…logically, there was no other way the electric quirked boy knew but…

Kaminari…working with All for One? The League of Villains…?

 …it all made too much sense. The attacks. The camp. Kacchan’s kidnapping and Kamino…everything.

He felt sick. Emotions coiled and squeezed at his insides, as if stones were weighing him down under water, and Izuku wasn’t aware of how hard he had been biting his lip, the coppery iron taste of blood filling his mouth. His face paled at what exactly he was accusing the other boy of.

Of being a traitor…

 I have to go…I can’t be here, it’s too dangerous–

He couldn’t take the book with him. It would arouse too much suspicion. Izuku turned his back on the notebook, hurrying to the door, which Kaminari hadn’t closed behind him. But just before he got out to the hallway–

“Midoriya? Dude, you alright? You’re looking kinda pale there.”

Izuku jumped almost several feet in the air, whipping around in fright as Kaminari appeared at the other end of the hallway, coming to meet him with an ice pack in one hand. The One for All user couldn’t help but step back, earning a puzzled look from the blond.

“Midoriya…?”

“A-Ah, sorry Kaminari…something came up,” Izuku couldn’t stop the stutter in his voice, pulling on his bag straps and forcing a wane smile across his face in an attempt to convince the other. “My, uh, my mum called me. Something happened at home and I– I just really gotta go and sort this out, you know? I need to…can I be alone right now?”

Izuku’s gaze averted to the carpet hallway flooring, toeing at the material before he made to go around Kaminari, giving him another uncertain smile. “Thanks for the ice pack, but my wrist barely hurts–”

 "Midoriya.“

 Izuku blinked, and Kaminari went on the offensive. With his quirk crackling around his fingers, the blond had struck out, slamming a hand on Izuku’s chest and letting loose. All in time that was not enough for the target to react as the taller boys quirk reacted immediately, striking out.

The electricity ran its course through Izuku’s veins, setting them alight in fiery pain as he let out a shriek - one that Kaminari quickly covered up with his other hand, dropping the ice pack. Izuku’s legs gave way as the shocks zapped and crackled across his entire body, limbs locking up with Izuku’s mouth gaping open. His throat closed over, stopping any oxygen.

With a vision swimming of black and white, Izuku tried to give out a weak cry, doing his best to fight off the unconsciousness that threatened to submerge him. The sting of copper filled the back of his mouth, and Kaminari crouched besides the fallen boy, golden eyes watching him like a predator.

Kaminari, hair standing up due to the voltage of his quirk, only gave a sickly sweet smile at his classmates predicament, going to pat the cheek of the freckled boy. His voice was muffled, but Izuku could still hear him. Hear the calmness cold that took over the others tone.

"If only you had kept your hands to yourself, Deku…what a naive little hero wannabe.”

No…I can’t…All Might!! Someone…!

But the downed boy couldn’t move his mouth, his tongue as heavy as led, and the student above him sighed.

“I kinda liked your work ethic, ya know? But, well…all good things gotta come to an end, right?”

 And that was the last thing Izuku heard, his body finally going into shutdown and static filling his eardrums, the unconsciousness gripping him and dragging him into the void with its deathly claws, claiming its prize.

  Kaminari scowled at the now knocked-out boy, scoffing as he got up and nudged the smaller boy’s face with his foot. What an idiot.

He quickly looked, making sure no one was entering the floor nor leaving their rooms before he grabbed hold of one of Izuku’s arms, dragging him into his room and shutting the door behind him.

“That was easier than I thought…”

Dragging him across the floor, Kaminari quickly found some rope he had stored away to tie and bound the others arms and legs, shoving him all too roughly into his closet before fishing his phone out of his pocket.

The number he dialed he practically knew off by heart, and he was sure to send a password via text so that the receiver knew it was in fact him.

The phone rung three times before being picked up.

“You better have a good reason for calling, kid.”

  Kaminari couldn’t help the grin that spread across his features. The giddiness that filled his being, almost wanting to make the boy prance around his room in delight.

“Dr. Tsubasa, I got him. Midoriya Izuku is ready for transport to your facility.”

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 3: The Truth

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

As it turns out the Trinity is still in New York. A desperate Nadya agrees to meet Valdas and his promise of answers, but is she ready for the truth behind her visions?

[READ IT ON AO3]

Nadya, Lily, and Jax agree to wait until the seventh and final night of Valdas’ offer.

So, naturally, Nadya goes the night before on her own.

The vampire watches her with an uncomfortable curiosity. It doesn’t carry the usual weight of immortality she associates with him. A year ago he moved like every limb was dragging Atlas’ burden by iron chains but now he’s… well he’s just different.

“You know, I was convinced you would wait until the last day to come.”

Nadya shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “I can go if you want,” though she really can’t and hopes he doesn’t take her up on it, “and come back tomorrow.”

“No no, that isn’t what I meant at all. I’m merely surprised. Help remind me to ask for cash back when we’re finished here, would you? I owe Isseya a few hundred for the bet.”

There’s something just… so wrong about a man over two thousand years old talking about ��cash back.’  Maybe that’s why Kamilah always insists on paying where Nadya can’t see.

But the mention of his partner makes Nadya uneasy. They’ve always been joined at the hip. “She won’t be joining us?”

Valdas shakes his head. “No, not tonight at least. I thought it best we keep this an intimate affair.”

“Ew.”

He gives her a chastising look but says nothing more on it.

Nadya doesn’t know what she was expecting; what she would have done if she had waited for her friends to come along as backup, or if she’d sucked it up and told Adrian and Kamilah about going behind their backs in the worst way. It’s not hard to imagine their looks of disappointment.

Even not knowing what to expect, though, didn’t mean Nadya had prepared herself for a place that’s actually kind of cute. An inside that smells like fresh coffee grinds and vanilla and a surprisingly decent bit of sidewalk real estate gated off with a wooden fence painted glossy black.

Not that any of that eases her worry. She’s prepared herself for the worst — tenses up at every passerby, catches herself halfway reaching for the stake in her purse when the vampire across so much as shifts in his seat.

Only Valdas is the epitome of a gentleman. He plays the part he’s dressed for almost too well. Still, Nadya reminds herself not to be fooled, not even for a second. She’s seen what he can become; what he can do. Sometimes she still tastes Vega’s ashes tickling at the back of her throat.

He glances up at the strings of yellowed lights crossed aimlessly over their heads. “It’s a rather charming place, wouldn’t you say? And, I hope, agreeable to your anxieties. Though I wish you would have let me take you somewhere —”

“Somewhere what,” interrupts Nadya; words bursting with accusation, “somewhere secluded and private, or with leather and torture devices?”

Valdas raises a single dark eyebrow in an ‘are you quite finished?’ way and no, she’s not — not by a long shot. But she’s willing to admit (silently, to herself, not out loud whatsoever) she might be making it worse for herself at this point.

Especially when he answers.

“Somewhere proper; with enough courses to get us through what I’m sure will be a difficult if enlightening conversation for you and I to have, Nadya.”

Yeah, especially then.

“Oh. No — this is fine.”

Someone clears their throat behind her; makes Nadya almost jump out of her seat in a heart attack. The barista does his level best not to laugh at her while he adjusts his tray bearing a steaming mug on a saucer and a plate of tiny finger sandwiches. “Oh, we didn’t —”

“Here will be fine,” Valdas pushes his folded newspaper aside, “thank you.”

He’s young; one of those obviously-New York types with several studs in his ears and a streak of blue in his blond hair, and likely a long-time server judging by the way his face goes red at Valdas’ simple act of common decency. Run, she wants to shout because she’s seen that darkly alluring smile before and nothing good can come of it, run while you still can.

Instead Nadya mouths a voiceless thanks. They are left alone.

“I didn’t order anything.”

“I took it upon myself.”

“But you didn’t know which night I would show up.”

“Indeed. After the third night they knew my order by heart.” He glances appraisingly towards the inside cafe — Nadya on the other hand can’t focus on anything but their reflections in the glass. “It’s hard to find attention to detail like that these days outside of hired help.”

With pursed lips Nadya pushes the latte away. “You really shouldn’t have. I can’t —”

“It’s soy milk, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Uhm, what? Yeah — only one of them finds her surprise funny and hint; it’s not Nadya.

“At the Awakening Ball, shortly after our first introductions. You were rather loudly threatening Raines and Sayeed with what I believe was a platter of artisan cheeses?”

“That’s… very diligent of you.” Creepy. It’s creepy. It’s so so freakin’ creepy.

Valdas gives a soft snort of amusement. “I’m old, Nadya, but not antiquated. In fact I’ve been looking for someone to discuss the latest season of The Crown & the Flame with, should you have time after our business is concluded.”

“That’s not —” This is so getting out of hand; more than that its wasting time.

She can’t let this chance slip through her fingers. “What are you trying to do? I didn’t come here to have small talk or drink coffee or talk TV, and I’m pretty dang sure that’s not why you invited me but if it is then tell me now because I don’t have time for it.”

“Very well,” he says just a little too flippantly for her growing irritation, “I thought you might be more comfortable this way. I apologize.”

“Apology only accepted if you start talking.”

The vampire leans forward a little too quickly for Nadya’s liking. All that arrogance, immortality; suddenly so plain on his expression he might as well have ‘VAMPIRE’ painted on his forehead.

It takes everything in her not to move away.

So many questions and now she can finally get her answers. But it leaves Nadya a bit stalled on where to start. But Valdas stays eerily patient.

Okay, big questions. “Am I dying?”

“You’re mortal, you are dying from the moment you’re birthed.” Which is not the answer Nadya’s looking for and he knows it. “But no, not more than any other.”

“Do you plan on killing me?”

“No; you are far too valuable for that.”

“What does that mean?”

Valdas carefully chooses every word to answer; “It means… that we are very happy you are alive, Nadya.” And his not-answers feel a little too close on the family tree to Nadya’s mostly-truths.

Though if he thinks she missed that “we” thing he’s very much mistaken.

“So my nightmares, what exactly are they?”

He’s too casual — plucking one of the sandwiches on the tray and nibbling it idly. Nadya entertains the image of her throwing it in his face… it’s a nice one.

“Nightmares, you say? So the visions only come to you when you sleep?”

“Visions?”

“Visions, mental images, nightmares — name them what you will but they are the same thing. Events you never witnessed, lives you never lived…”

“People I’ve never killed?”

The words come out of her so scared, so broken; and Nadya’s almost angry for it. A sound so pitiful that even Valdas — the same man who threatened Jax so easily, hurt Adrian and Kamilah so easily, killed Vega so easily — lets sympathy slip through the seams of him.

“And those, yes. They are all a part of you; they have been all your life even if you were once unaware, and they will remain that way from this day to your last day.”

Nadya shakes her head so hard it hurts. “No. No way I — I can’t feel like this forever. I won’t survive it. I… I won’t. I feel less and less like me every time I wake up. There won’t be enough of me left.” I worry there isn’t enough already.

And he really sits there without an answer for her? Two thousand years and this is all he’s good for; making her feel like her life is already over? What good is it to live for so freakin’ long if it can’t help her; save her?

“What did you do to me,” it feels good to ask; really good — better than she’s felt in a while, “why did you do it? How do I stop it, or make it hurt less, or make it happen less, or —”

“Forgive me —” —she doesn’t— “— but… you believe I am somehow responsible for these visions? When I just told you they were yours from your first breath.”

“Well what else am I supposed to think?” Nadya snaps. “My head almost explodes, you do some weird psychic mojo that makes it better but also makes it worse, and the last thing your bonkers girlfriend—who conveniently isn’t here—says to me is “enjoy my gift?” I gotta say — that all seems pretty freakin’ responsible to me!”

The last time she raised her voice at Valdas, Nadya had Kamilah and Adrian combined to back her up. Yet here she is, no immortality at her back, and honestly she doesn’t even care.

“I am scared, okay? So, so scared — scared enough that I’m doing stupid things that I know I shouldn’t be doing, lying to the people I love, going behind their backs and putting myself in danger and you know why?”

“Because fear is an irrational motivator.”

“Shut up. It’s because I would do all of that again and again and again if it helps me find a way to make this stop. If it takes away all of these horrible feelings that aren’t even my own and… and stops tearing me up inside.”

Who are you, Nadya asks herself, because they may be her words in her voice but they’re so wrong — so not Nadya. And that just adds onto her already existing fear.

It’s not fair.

None of this is fair.

Valdas waits until Nadya catches her breath; until he can hear the slowing down of her heart. “Are you quite done?”

“I dunno,” her face is still flushed, “but… sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

“For telling you to shut up.” Because she’s pretty dang certain if anyone else had tried that they wouldn’t have gotten to finish saying their piece.

But she did. Valdas let her get it out until she was pink in the face and more than a little hot under her coat collar despite the bitter night breeze. Why?

“No one should ever feel the need to apologize for their grief.”

Nadya glances up from her white-knuckled hands; but Valdas isn’t there — not mentally, anyway. His focus is far off and distant… millennia away. “Grief is a complex thing felt in complex ways. It kills us inside… but the pain of it is proof we are alive, too.”

“I’m not grieving though. I can’t grieve. I have to hope there’s a way to fix it.”

“If my efforts to ebb the storm still leave you this way Nadya, I must admit I’m doubtful of it.”

How is it something so bleak leaves her so breathless?

“What do you mean,” she chokes out, “what—what efforts?”

“The ones you would so quickly write off as malice. Though I suppose I’ll give you one thing — my beloved Iss’ has a knack for making most things sound malicious.”

“That’s an understatement…” and apparently the only bad thing he’ll ever say about her, “so—so wait. I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Valdas does the decent thing and turns his face away, but that doesn’t mean Nadya misses the color me surprised raised brow.

“Psychic prominence can be innate, yes, but when you reach a certain age most talents are easily learned. I had hoped the web I was allowed to spin in your mind that night at the Musea Sanguis would hold long enough to bring us to this point naturally. Sadly this was not the case.”

He offers his hand out palm-up between them. He could just as easily take what he wants from her but no, he’s offering.

And the more she thinks about it the more Nadya realizes Valdas had done the same that night. “I thought… when I touched this—this column I could’ve sworn I… that something to do with you had…”

Valdas nods with growing understanding.

“Well that’s to be expected. When psychic abilities grate up against one another it’s a bit like grit-paper on stone; the outer layer of the stone crumbles into a fine powder, yes? The influence that was being pressed unto you turned you into the grit — the rest of the world; your stone.”

“So it’s all in… in touch?” Nadya looks down at her hands as she asks.

“No, but given the borders of your capabilities…” The curl of his fingers draws them both down to watch. “Physical contact is a tether in any instance. But objects have memories just like people do, Nadya. And we vampires are an odd in-between of the two.

“I could show you — if you wish.”

Their fingertips couldn’t be more than four—five inches apart. But to Nadya it looks like miles; like ages stretching out across the tabletop.

Two thousand years of history, of life; of love. And the very idea of inducing this terror upon herself has Nadya actually questioning her sanity — and rightly so. But there’s a power in it, too; in controlling it, not letting it control her.

The last of her reservations are dashed when her mind unhelpfully supplies the memory of Kamilah in the penthouse kitchen — hands hesitant to hold her, to hurt her; fear hidden in the familiar dark of her eyes, fear both of and for Nadya. Because she’s not torturing herself enough already, apparently.

“You don’t have to. The choice is yours.” Really though — is it?

No. “No, it’s not.”

Nadya sucks in a deep breath and dives in headfirst by giving Valdas her hand.

In his dreams they do this bathed in sunlight. But dreams are for the young and the innocent. He is the Made-God Valdemaras and he is neither.

The rapier catches in the grooves of his vest and bends dangerously close to snapping. Behind him, Isseya laughs giddy and without care.

“You know, you really should be cheering on your Maker, darling girl.”

Valdas rounds on her but she meets him petulantly prideful. “Should I? Lucky for me that I am free to champion whomever I wish.”

“Fair enough. I would champion him too, if I could.”

They both look to watch him pull the ribbon from his hair; it falls damp around his shoulders — little golden wisps clinging to the sweat on his forehead. The exhaustion of his efforts flashes bright in the deep red of his eyes but his smile is as unwavering as his beauty.

“I’m flattered, truly,” Cynbel croons to the pair of them, “but that would leave me with no one worthy of a good spar and you know how troublesome my spells of boredom can be.”

Likely that he thinks the wink he gives their girl is a charming one. But taken with him as they are their love does not blind them — not anymore.

“Indeed.” Valdas clicks his tongue and begins to undo the clasps of his suit. “But that is enough sparring for tonight, I think.”

“And what of my prize?”

Before he can say another word strong arms embrace him close; hold him in the rough-hewn fingertips that claim Valdas’ body as easily as they cradle it. When he looks up it’s to the familiar sight of adoring eyes; of endless devotion.

As if the kiss Cynbel steals from him doesn’t say as such enough on its own.

“Satisfactory?” Valdas asks his Golden Son — though he already knows the answer.

“Rather I would call it divine.”

He decides he will commit this, right here, to the parts of his memory that will never wane with the ages.

At the very least he is owed that. They all are.

Nadya and Valdas realize it at the same time. The trembling of their joined hands isn’t Nadya’s fault at all, but rather the rarest and greatest slip of the vampire’s composure.

But he doesn’t let her go. He can’t, she accepts solemnly, because this wasn’t about showing me anything. It was about seeing.

It was about him.

So Nadya spares him the indignity and brings her hand back to rest in her lap. Valdas startles as if from a deep sleep; runs his hands over his face and Nadya can’t help but hurt for him as she watches that careful mask slide back into place.

“Forgive me,” he clears his throat abruptly, “I wasn’t expecting you to be this, ahem, advanced — for you to be able to project the, erm —”

“‘No one should ever feel the need to apologize for their grief.’”

The vampire focuses on her sharply — the look he gives her makes her feel complex and worth studying. Or maybe she’s just feeling him still; feeling the things that break his heart with every passing day. When he realizes then that she’s sincere — that Nadya repeats his earlier sentiments because she believes they will heal him somehow — he visibly eases.

“You are wiser than your years, you know.”

“Lately they aren’t exactly my years though, are they?”

In her lap Nadya digs around in her purse and pulls out a small journal. Even just the sight of it makes her queasy but she has no one to blame but herself. When she tries to toss it down between them Nadya finds her grip only tightening — her fear of its discovery so innate she has a hard time letting it go even willingly.

Valdas sees this and reaches out; strangely careful to avoid touching Nadya directly as he pries it free. “What is this?”

“A journal.”

“Yes, I can see that.” He begins flipping through the book; eyes roaming over Nadya’s neat scrawl. Page after page of it; filled from top to bottom in various colored pens and then some. Tabbed notes and scribbled margins — but the closer he gets to the end the more chaotic the entries become.

Careful recall hours later turned into hasty ramblings in the throes of panic. The ravings of a mad woman.

“I don’t always remember,” explains Nadya, “but I write down what I can.”

“What you can remember?”

“What I can stomach.”

If anyone understands it would be him. He’s practically dripping in blood; it oozes from his pores just like his infallible persona. And Nadya hates that she knows this with certainty.

Valdas stops on a page near the end; leans forward intensely as he tries to decipher her cursive’s best impression of wet noodles. Do you know how hard it is to write with gel pens, hands shaking and slippery from sweaty palms, in a blacked out room when you can’t tell the difference between the pages and the bodies piling up before your eyes?

Pretty freakin’ hard.

The way he reads it though — like some riveting tale to stand the test of time. In a way it does, maybe. “I was here for this,” and he sounds a little too amused for her liking; nothing in that awful book is amusing, “we all were, even dear Kamilah. From the tone with which you write I would say this is the petit Lafayette’s account of the siege of his township.

“You write with great passion; ever considered a career in fiction?” He pushes the journal back her way with a single finger. Nadya practically snatches it up to be buried back in her bag. Underneath the work notepad and pens, her glasses case and the stake she is never without.

Only when her secrets are six feet under does Nadya relax.

“I wouldn’t dream of exposing the world to those terrible things.”

“The world has already been exposed to them.”

“Well I shouldn’t have been, but I didn’t really get the chance to choose did I?” Nadya stares at him hard. Valdas has the good sense not to justify a reply.

Already the city is well into bed with the night around them. The cafe window bathes the pair and the sidewalk in soft yellowing light but directly across the street neon pinks and blues flicker out of the corner of her sight.

How long have they been here, she wonders, but can’t muster up the courage to look at her phone. They have to know by now; they have to. Lily’s probably already GPSed her and they’re all on their way, crammed into Jax’s fake plumbing van, ready to jump out and hog tie Valdas while shoving a dirty rag into his mouth… actually maybe he’s on to something with this ‘fiction writer’ idea.

“Why didn’t I get to choose, Valdas?” Because he’s old — he’s so old which means he has to know. He has to. That’s why she’s here. That’s why she’s risking everything to be here.

“Rarely are we given the opportunity to choose our own destiny.”

“But it’s possible, right?”

He gives a reluctant nod. “Yes… for others. But not for you, Nadya. I would have thought this, here—tonight—had given you clarity of that.”

Clarity? More like the exact opposite. Nadya feels deeper in the fog than ever and that’s just fact. But is it so wrong for her to hold out even a crumb of hope?

Valdas sees this — her resistance — and maybe he even admires her for it. The man lifts his hand and Nadya readies herself to flinch away—don’t touch me pleasedon’ttouchme I don’t want to see any more please—but he hovers it just shy of her skin. So close he can feel the heat of her cheek against his palm.

“It’s unfortunate what little control you did have was taken from you so soon.”

“I don’t understand.”

His brow furrows. “I said as such, remember? You were always meant to walk this path but Jameson’s influence sped the world up beneath your feet; sent you along farther than you were meant to be.”

Shut the front door.

Nadya recoils so hard her chair legs scrape against the concrete loud and jarring. Suddenly all the little beautiful things around them — the lights, the baristas winding down inside, even the people just passing by beyond the gate — seem dull; lifeless.

“Ja—Jameson? What are you talking about?”

He had even agreed with her: it made sense to think Valdas was the one doing all the pulling of the strings. But okay — so it isn’t him. Jameson, though? “Jameson. Jameson, Jameson. Like the weird little librarian guy; the one from Adrian’s trial. That. Jameson.”

“Yes…” answers Valdas, and Nadya really isn’t a fan of how hesitant he says it, “He’s the only prominent psychic in the country. Moreso than myself, even.”

Holy… crap. Totally not a conclusion she would have even put under the ‘Extremely Unlikely Possibilities’ category — like at all. But the wild thing is the more the idea has time to marinate the more Nadya’s starting to get it. The more she’s starting to believe him because somehow it makes… sense?

“No,” no, remember who this is, remember how he lied so easily and condemned Adrian to death, “no no, that’s not… he’s a member of Kamilah’s clan!”

Which apparently is news. “Is he really? That’s surprisingly deceptive of him.”

Surprisingly deceptive. Ha!

This is too much to process. Nadya’s still reeling — she’s still him in a way, still feeling the pressure of his eternal life crushing her own heart in a stone grip. It doesn’t make sense and it also makes total sense; she just isn’t certain which one of them is real.

That doubt screams at her through the pain still growing. How dare you trust him, it growls; a monster hiding under the bed, after what he did to Adrian, after what they did to Adrian, to Kamilah, to you! Are you really so desperate and so far gone?

Of course she remembers his lies. So easy and flawless and done on the thinnest whim because of what — a rumor; a ghost hidden behind another man’s face? The pain he’d caused them all…

“You can’t expect me to trust you.”

“Perhaps not ‘expect’ so much as hope I’ve proven enough to you tonight that such trust comes willingly.”

“Do you really think it’s that easy?” She bites the words off her tongue in chunks of anger; frustration. “Or is it that you think I’m still just some dumb human who will believe the scary old vampire without even a question otherwise.”

“Quite the opposite. I think you resilient, resourceful, and yet reticent to act on impulse — when you’re of sound mind that is.”

“So you’re calling me nuts.”

“I’m saying the fault isn’t yours. And if you’re still hesitant to believe me then there’s a very simple way to prove the truth.”

The second time Nadya holds his hand is much less reluctant. Maybe part of her wants to get it over with. Maybe whatever’s left hopes she’ll find something wrong in him; his intentions. Like a validation.

She squeezes so hard it hurts her palm but what is feeble mortal strength compared to, well, him? And…

“Nothing?”

He keeps them connected — really just completely dedicated to this whole proving himself trustworthy thing, apparently. “Don’t sound so disappointed.”

But really; there’s nothing. Not the low-key anticipatory bombardment of visions and the feelings that come with them. Not voices or sensations that aren’t her own. And not even some weird warm glow of altruism either.

It’s comforting as much as it is worrisome but in the absence Nadya realizes just how tired she is.

“You’ve helped me, tonight.” There are so many things to tell Kamilah, Adrian. Finally a step closer and she gets to rub being right in their faces on top of it. “Really… really helped — maybe more than you know.”

His chin raises slightly. “Is that a ‘thank you?’”

“It’s a question.”

Why did you do it?

Valdas’ thumb tickles the bare skin of her wrist in gentle motions. It’s intimate — weirdly so. Which means Nadya is completely justified when she takes her hand back.

Until he squeezes tighter, that is.

“This was the last act of my own free will. Perhaps not forever—hopefully not forever; I’ve had quite a few forevers already and they are dreadfully long.”

Nadya tugs again in vain. It’s like a completely different man sitting across from her, now. Darker; deeper and digging deeper still. She doesn’t want to dig deeper, though, but the longer Valdas holds on the more the choice is taken from her.

Another thing taken from her.

Her voice cracks slightly. “Valdas… please let me go.” They’re still out in the open air but it breathes heavy and stifling in her lungs. Reeking of dust and mothballs and other old, ancient things.

It’s the Musea Sanguis all over again. The onyx coffin that haunts her nightmares — the ones that belong solely to Nadya Al Jamil.

She meets Valdas’ eyes and the fathoms of them are too many to count.

“I wanted to help you, Nadya. I wanted this, the act before the sin, to be one that mattered — one that meant something.”

“W-What sin?”

“Forgive me.”

“Val—”

He’s holding her too close — Nadya can’t pull back far enough. But someone, probably Kamilah — definitely Kamilah, should be proud of her that she struggles every moment.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I wish that were the case.”

All the way up until his fingertips brush her temple and the world goes dark.

LINEHERE

In between waking and being awake there is a place where all is calm and well. Where she feels safe and warm and at peace. How often does she get that these days? Is it any wonder she clings to it desperately?

Long fingers brush through her hair. There is a warmth about them, even dark as they are — even though they haven’t seen the sunlight in so many years.

Lost, lonely — yet they comfort her even now.

Nadya opens her eyes and the first thing she sees is the shifting canopy of leaves overhead. No—not leaves. Dark green fabric, sheer and draped around the four posters at each corner of the bed and over her head like an old ritual dance. One that called upon forgotten things and spoke in relic tongues. She can taste the words of them; bright mint and heavy sage. All she need do is open her mouth.

“Ssh… not yet, my darling.”

The hand slips from her hair and Nadya keens at the loss. Turns towards where the touch might have come from like a child comforted in a storm.

The woman beside her has been wandering the dark for so long. Nadya can smell crisp groundwater on Her skin; salt on the back of Her tongue. The rich caramel of Her covered in the brightest white she’s ever seen.

“I’m scared,” Nadya tells Her. Is it possible to know a stranger all her life?

Perhaps it is. Just as it’s possible for the woman to laugh above her, face just out of sight, and for it to sound like every song she’s ever known or loved and also like nothing she’s ever had the luck to hear before.

“I know. But you must be brave.”

“I’m tired of being brave.”

“I was, too,” Nadya sighs as she feels an arm come around her shoulders; strong and more certain than she’ll ever be, “but that does not mean your trials are done. Be brave for yourself; and be brave for the both of us.”

She’s about to protest when the door opens on the other side of the room.

Nadya sits upright at the sound; fights through the waves of nausea and vertigo that wash over her and blind her with colorless spots of light behind her open eyes. She reaches out — waits for the stranger woman’s touch — but it doesn’t come.

When she can see everything right again Nadya doesn’t understand why she was waiting for someone there, anyway. The bed is barely rumpled. She’s alone.

“Ease yourself, Nadya. Your heart sounds like a racehorse.”

Oh, hell no.

She doesn’t have to see him to know the dark figure that watches her with the closed door at his back.

Valdas crosses the room in several long strides and holds something out to her. She knows the glint of her glasses in the otherwise dim light and snatches them from him; but tosses them onto the bedspread to be abandoned.

She doesn’t want to see him; the false sympathy in his eyes. He’s lied to Nadya enough already.

“Where am I?”

“Putting your glasses on might help.”

“I don’t want to look at your face.”

Valdas sighs. “Nadya…”

“Don’t you dare,” the rage that seethes from her clenched teeth surprises them both but gotta say — Nadya’s kind of a fan of it, “don’t. you. dare say my name like that. When you…”

She looks around again. Tries to keep dignified through wide eyes even though everything is a blur. Now it’s the principle of the thing. She can just make out the cut frame of the door beyond him.

Nadya spreads her fingers out on the coverlet like she’s searching. Can’t see Valdas’ face but she knows—she knows him maybe a little better than she knows herself right now. Just like she knows when he thinks he realizes what she’s doing and reaches out to grab them; to help her.

She clutches a blind hand desperately around the tassel of a pillow and whips it at his face as hard as she can.

“Asshole!”

The pillow does about as much damage to the millennia-old vampire as, well, a pillow would. But it gives her an opening and Nadya takes it.

Launches herself from the bed and hits the ground running; stumbling — her depth perception absolutely shot — but clear of him and with the black seam of freedom just barely in her sights.

It takes two steps for her to feel an ironclad weight clasping around her arm to pull her back.

“No—no nono!” Nadya screams; struggles against Valdas’ hold but the vampire is too strong. She might as well be trying to tear down a skyscraper with her bare hands.

He wraps both arms around her middle and knocks the breath from her lungs. But desperation — it’s a funny thing. Gives Nadya just that little kick of adrenaline she needs to keep fighting even if she chokes on every effort.

“Please stop this,” he growls in her ear, “the only one you’re hurting is yourself!”

“You’re insane. You’re a psychopath!” I’m a fool for trusting you.

“Nadya I can explain —”

“Don’t wanna hear it! Guh— lemme go!”

“I was the lesser of two evils I assure you!”

“Bull!” She pops her ankle and feels it collide between his legs with a fleeting satisfaction. Valdas crumples slightly, hisses at the pain that lances through him. Just enough for her to pry free and make another, equally mad dash for freedom.

The moment Nadya clutches at the door handle it jerks open; sends her flying backwards where she collides painfully with the rug.

“Grief, Valdas, she’s a fucking human child. How hard can it be?”

She almost doesn’t recognize Isseya at first — the proud woman of the abyss Nadya had last seen in the Council Chambers barely even a shadow flickered on her face.

In the time it takes the other vampire to assess the situation, though, Nadya is already scrambling ready to crawl her way out if that’s what it will take.

Valdas growls around his injury. “Iss’—”

“Yes yes, I’m not a fool.” Then Nadya screams, loud as she possibly can — tries to tear through the claw raking its way through her hair such a violent touch where was the kindness of the dark from before but it hurts too much too much and no matter how hard she hits Isseya’s grip doesn’t let up in the slightest.

She yanks Nadya up by her hair like a puppet on strings. “And I think you’ll find it a little bit harder to incapacitate me in such a way.”

“Let me go!”

“Need I even humor that with an answer?”

Valdas comes into view through the pain prickling at the edges of her vision. “Let her go, beloved.”

Behind her Isseya’s voice drips with irritation. “But —”

“Isseya. You know our orders.”

“Well I’ve harmed more than a few hairs on her head. Better to ask forgiveness, no?”

“No.”

Finally she’s released and the suddenness of it sends Nadya flying forward. Her hands and knees burning against thick wool fibers everything blurrier than blurry from the tears and she tries not to think too hard about the hairs she had felt torn from her head.

But, really, it’s her fault in the end — for thinking it was gonna be that easy.

When is anything ever that easy?

“Are you mostly unharmed?”

His legs come into her smudged view before Nadya can even blink. Valdas reaches out a hand in offering; she smacks it away instead. “Like I’d fall for that twice,” she mutters ragged; feels the last breaths of her screams for help itching in the back of her throat but knows, ultimately, they’re of no use. Standing alone is an effort but she manages it because she will not look weaker than she already is.

“Am I…” Nadya’s scoff is a bitter surprise in her mouth, “are you really doing this right now? Good vampire, bad vampire?”

“You think this is bad, just wait until the appetizer,” says Isseya — too close says Nadya’s entire nervous system and every hair on the back of her neck; has her jumping back but that puts her closer to Valdas and crap on a cracker they have her pinned.

“The appetizer being me, I’m guessing?”

To her surprise, the vampiress laughs. “No, I’d be looking forward to the evening far more if that were the case.”

The evening. It has Nadya running across the room to the large fuzzy shape of floor-to-ceiling curtains. There’s no way — absolutely no way it isn’t dawn yet.

And she’s kind of right. But this is one of those situations where that means about as much as being wrong.

The sherbet gradients of the setting sun bring a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. “It’s been… a whole day?” And they haven’t come for me? Not Adrian, not Kamilah… nobody?

Valdas, ever vigilant of the sun, is careful as he comes up beside her. Nadya’s glasses catch the light in his hand.

He almost sounds relieved when Nadya finally takes them, practically crushing the lenses against her face. “I confess I had hoped extending our evening would give them time to find you. But the years have made your friends soft and trusting.”

“What does that mean?

Isseya comes around to join them — awkward, all of them, too domestic for the pain she still feels at her failed escape — and keeps to the shadows too as she sits. She nods to the window. “Open your eyes, see for yourself.”

Nadya has to shade her eyes with her hand to see much of anything. Wherever they are there aren’t any buildings to block the path of light.

When the garden finally comes into view down below Nadya chokes on her own breath.

It takes a bit of searching but she finds the bridge and familiar pond just at the edge of her window’s view. It had been over a year now but suddenly it feels like no time has passed at all; like the Ball is still in full swing and she’s still Cinderella before the apocalypse.

At least she knows where she is now. Upstate New York; five hours’ ride by old-fashioned locomotive. She remembers the journey to Marcel’s castle and the Awakening Ball like it was yesterday.

[santalsaburablog]

Adventures of Santal. Chapter 2: The first meeting.

Anything bad can happen will happen.

The changes begin! While the Sabur clan is enjoying a quiet life on Ryloth, something is about to happen in the galaxy that can change not only one planet, but the whole world. And in the life of young Santal Shan, irreversible metamorphosis will soon begin. As a result, she will have to change her lifestyle and take a new path. But for what, depends only on the girl herself.

Ryloth is a harsh, rocky planet, home to the Twi'lek. It is located in the outer Ring on the Corellian way and is the beginning of the death wind corridor. There is no day-night rotation on the planet, because the rotations around its axis and around the sun are synchronized, and the planet is constantly facing the sun with one side, while the other is in darkness. The illuminated side is called "Bright lands". However, the landscape also has jungles, plateaus, valleys, and volcanoes, and the atmosphere is breathable for both Twi'lek and humans. The equator covers a forest populated by dangerous predators. Given the diverse and dangerous landscape, Twi'leks live in underground caves.

Kala'uun is a large underground city on Ryloth, located among the Five lonely mountains, one of the two capitals of the planet. Like all cities on Ryloth, it is located on the twilight terminator that separates day from night. The city is home to a major spaceport, which is the center of interplanetary trade of the Twi'lek. To protect the city from heat storms and the Twi'leks who lived in the area, the only tunnel leading to the city is blocked by a massive stone block. It is there, between the upper and lowest levels, that the sabura clan resides. Nobi and Elina. For three years now, they have been raising their adopted child, Santal, who was very attached to them.

This family once lived in another settlement, which was very far from their current home. At the very edge of the Bright lands. But then, after saving up some money, they moved. And soon the daughter of Elina's friend, Adira Shan, appeared in their lives.

They met a long time ago, when Elina was still a very young girl. Then letanka studied at a dance school, and then wanted to get a job — to perform in the theater. But it so happened that she ran into scammers who decided to sell her to a familiar gangster-Hutt. As a result, Elina was trapped, forced to dance in a revealing outfit in front of criminals and other scum of society. It is inconceivable how humiliating it was for a letanka from a simple but decent family! Fortunately, it only lasted a few months. Then Adira and Bastian were on a mission for the Order, and by chance they crossed paths with that Hutt and saw Elina chained up. And then released, freeing the girl from slavery. So we became friends. After this incident, letanka became very careful, found a husband, Nobi, and started doing housework. I forgot about my career as a dancer.

When the sabura clan learned of their friends ' deaths, they were heartbroken. Young, talented and full of strength Jedi were defeated by some mercenaries. It's just not fair! That's why they were surprised when a newborn baby was found in the rescue capsule. By establishing the trajectory, they found out that this capsule was from the exploded ship "New hope". Elina realized that the Shang dynasty was not dead. And, fearing that the villains would find out, she and her husband moved to Kala'uun.

Santal grew up cheerful, curious and good-natured. By the time she was four years old, she was a pretty girl, with features more like her mother's than her father's. Her hair was a cold brown, and her eyes were brown and honey-colored. The future beauty is simple! Elina, looking at the growing up of the foster child, sometimes cried quietly in private, because she remembered.

                                                         ***

Santal couldn't sleep. Every five minutes she would jump up and look out the window at the sky, then walk around the room and lie down again. I can't sleep. She had been dreaming for two weeks. Very unusual dreams. And all terrible.

For example, how different creatures brandishing swords of different colors, mostly green and blue, were shot by some soldiers in white uniforms. Or I dreamed of her house. There was a terrible fire. My aunt and uncle are screaming for help. She tries to help and... at this moment wakes up, pulling herself out of the nightmare, not wanting to see the ending.

Once Santal tried to tell Elina, but she said it was just a nightmare, no need to worry. But she was uneasy. What if this dream is a harbinger of trouble? Adira had once mentioned the Concept of Seeing the force to her. Maybe her girl had it. But she's only three years old. Isn't it early? How could she, insensitive to The force, know that? Letanka did not fool the girl and therefore asked not to be taken seriously.

Two weeks after the first nightmare, Santal was still looking out the window, thinking. About everything. About parents, dreams and dreams. And also about how beautiful the world is. When she was older, Santal wanted to leave Ryloth and explore other planets and even make a discovery. It doesn't matter which one. In short, the plans were colossal.

Suddenly, she saw a strange white light in the distance. Santal immediately wondered what it might be. A fallen star? An asteroid? A signal for help? Or does someone just have a light on? Oh, there are even two of them. And they are declining. What is it, after all?

The girl was bursting with curiosity. Maybe we should take a look. Nothing terrible will happen if she goes out of the window at night and looks at the street. Just look. And then go home. Without stopping anywhere.

Santal climbed up on the windowsill and dropped to the ground quietly. Looking around, the girl found the lights and ran in a straight line. Especially since the lights are still on and are about to land. It was impossible to miss the chance. What if she opens something?

The white lights turned out to be the ordinary lights of a starship. But Santal didn't know that was what it was called. Having satisfied her curiosity, the girl was about to run home, when the above feeling came with a vengeance. This time, the ship itself aroused Santal's interest.

A more cautious or older child would have turned and run. But the girl really wanted to know what kind of unusual ship it was. And he seemed to her simply huge for his small stature.

Then suddenly the door opened, and out came a creature of an inhuman race with long legs and arms. Having never seen anything like it before, Santal felt both surprise, delight, and fear at the menacing appearance of the creature with its red, creepy eyes and blue skin. The man calmly walked down the ramp and closed the door. Ads: Hide

The girl moaned softly. She didn't know what to do. Follow the man or wait for him to return and explore the ship on the sly. Santal planned to do this: if the first option, then by sneaking and hiding, she would look a little and run home before they missed her. The second option: wait, and when the mysterious stranger returns, together with him, while he does not see, explore the ship. The main thing is to remain unnoticed. After a moment's thought, Santal decided to follow the man until he was completely out of sight.

For about half an hour, the girl, hiding behind objects, watched the unusual creature. I must admit, Santal really enjoyed playing spy. It was very exciting! Finally, the man brought the curious woman to the warehouse. Then she could see him better. Her skin looked more blue than blue in the light. Red eyes without pupils looked creepy. And a big hat that really fit his head without ears and nose. But what really struck Santal was the small hoses attached to her cheeks. Or pipes, it is unclear. Why would he want them? Maybe he has health problems? And I wonder how he wears it? Does it hurt? Isn't it hard? Probably not. Otherwise, I wouldn't wear it. And how does everything fit on it?

another guy with a hood on his head came up to the man in the hat. It's not even clear if it's a man or a woman.

"You're late." "Sounds like a man after all."

"I wanted to make sure I wasn't followed." Or you didn't bring your friends.

— Intelligently. Oh, well. Show me what you brought. But not here.

Inside, the ship seemed even more exciting. Long corridors, lots of rooms. The Hatter led them both into a dim room. Santal carefully hid behind the crate. Fortunately, the darkness accompanied the disguise.

"You didn't open it, did you?" "what is it?" asked the cowl — man, when the Hatter provided him with a small chest, slightly shorter than the girl, and green in color.

"I don't open anything unless I've been warned." I'm a professional! the blue — skinned man snapped.

Santal shivered and lifted her head, hoping to see what was in the box. The two began to discuss something unknown to the girl.

During the conversation, the customer opened it and fished out a rectangular object, poked with his fingers. There were some strange pictures, squiggles. The man with the big smile stared for a long time, and then laughed maliciously. Then, after examining the interior of the box, he said:

"You did a great job, bounty hunter. Any complications?

Santal did not understand: behind the heads? It turns out that someone lost their head, and this Hatter helped them find it. But this one's got a good head. And what does the pictures have to do with it? Anything else you want? Blue smiled helpfully.

— No. The money was transferred to your account. I'll contact you if I need you again. The hooded man turned and headed back.

Santal started to follow them, but suddenly she wanted to see what else was in the trunk. No time. The girl could barely keep up with the men on tiptoe. And then my eyes started to close. Sleep hunting. No! We must go home! She's already been up too long. Visiting is good, but at home is better. Wanting to get home as soon as possible, the girl revealed herself when the customer had already left. But she forgot about the Hatter! When I realized it, it was too late.

"You didn't know that, but when people spy on me, I take it personally.

Santal jumped in surprise. The blue man with the hat and the pipes was looking at her. The face might have shown some negative emotions, but the eyes... they made it seem like the man was always angry. The girl cringed in fright. Her gut told her not to look at him. The

Man sat down on his haunches, which made him seem smaller. Santal was a little emboldened and tried to justify herself:

— V-you… You are... from VIN-n-Ni-I-te. I won't tell anyone. I didn't understand him at all. The girl was on the point of bursting into tears, and she would have done so if it hadn't been for the stranger who had startled her with his appearance.

The Hunter reached out and lightly touched the girl's cheek.

She stood paralyzed with fear. I was afraid to move. A blue hand gently ran the pads of her fingers over the soft skin and lifted her chin slightly. After examining Santal, the man abruptly grabbed her by the scruff of the neck. The girl immediately began to struggle.

"What are you doing?" Let me go!

The Hatter did not react at first, but suddenly stopped abruptly and raised it at eye level.

"Did you think I was going to let you go, baby, after you found out something that didn't concern you?" You're a witness.

As the man dragged Santal down the corridor, She tried to bite him a couple of times. Going into a compartment, the hunter put the girl behind bars and locked her up. Santal tried to pull away, but where would she go? Exhausted, Santal slid to the floor and fell asleep.

She woke up, as it seemed to her, in half an hour. Then she found herself lying on a cold, hard floor. In some place in the shape of a rectangle with bars from the ceiling to the floor. The entire ceiling was streaked with the same long, cold lines. Well, she didn't know the words "cage" or "prison cell"at that time!

Santal began to slowly come to life. What happened to her? Oh Yes, she saw the lights, decided to look, the man in the hat, the conversation… Oh, my God! The girl raised her head and was horrified by what had happened overnight. This couldn't have happened! This is all unreal! She's only a three-year-old girl! She wouldn't have thought of that! This is a dream!

From fear, the girl even forgot for a while that she wanted to look at the lights. It seemed to her now that someone had been controlling her mind. But when the puzzle came together and the picture became clear, I was completely upset.

"Did you sleep well, child?" A familiar, deep, mechanical voice interrupted his thoughts.

Santal squinted in the dim light. That blue-skinned guy again.

— Not very. Look, uncle, I don't know why you brought me here, but this isn't a funny joke. Please let me go home.

The blueskin made a sympathetic face.

"I'm sorry, little girl, but you've been following me and my client. I don't like that. And you can easily tell your parents what you saw. And then they would quickly tell you where to go. He added to himself: "And I would have been put on the wanted list."

Santal shouted. "And I don't remember well!" I promise not to tell anyone! Forgive me and let me go. I won't tell anyone! There were tears in the girl's eyes.

"What's the difference?" the Hatter grinned. "You can tell it from memory, and the adults will understand.

— Yes, I... I'm a little girl! I still didn't understand. Please let me go! I want to go home! the Man took out a jar and opened it. An unpleasant smell reached the girl's nose. Santal grimaced. The man took a sip and only then answered:

— No problem. He smiled nastily. He moved closer to the girl, squatted down, and flicked her nose. "Now be a good boy and don't make any noise. It still won't help. He left, patting the child's cheek with a blue hand.

Santal was perplexed and upset at the same time. I even tried to take offense. Fail. Such an affectionate, but harmful uncle. But maybe he would let her go. I'm sure all his talk is just a joke. An adult uncle wanted to scare a little girl. But Santal sabura won't give in! She had exposed him! It won't be long before she's released. And if she gives the address, they'll take her home. Her aunt always told her to do this if she got lost: go to someone you thought you could trust and give her the address. That's it! And this blueskin didn't seem so scary to the girl anymore. Although the appearance of the baby was a little scary at first, but she quickly got used to it. The girl's spirits rose at the thought.

But at that moment, a slight shaking started. It was obvious that the ship was beginning to rise. Well, that's right! She's going home now! As soon as the uncle comes, she will give her address. And my aunt won't even know that her adopted niece was out at night. Although the girl was once warned not to go anywhere alone, not to talk to strangers, immediately run away. And don't turn your back. Except that Santal didn't remember exactly when it was. The words were somehow left in my memory. And anyway, when she saw the lights, she thought for a moment that nothing would happen if she just broke the rule once. So it happened.

And the ship rose higher and higher. Santal have sick feeling in my stomach. It became uneasy: a suspicion crept in that she would not get home. If it wasn't, the man would have already asked for her address or just dropped her off. Any minute now. And he hesitates. So... everything he said wasn't a joke! A terrible thought shot through the girl's mind. Oddly enough, in such situations, the brain of people begins to think smartly. Santal's brain was no exception: "What is it? What to do? What to do? We need to get out of here! Let me get hit, but only to get away! I'm the only one scared. Mom».

The girl curled up and wept bitterly. And why did she go? I'd be home and asleep right now. Sleeping? Sleeping?! Of course! What if she had managed to fall asleep at home and was having an amazing dream? But how do I check it? Idea! Santal closed her eyes tightly and froze for a few minutes. It is not known how much time passed, but when the girl opened her eyes, nothing changed. Same floor, iron bars.

He heard the steps. The girl started. The man with the hat came in.

"Aren't you hungry?" Almost morning.

Of course, the girl is used to having her aunt feed her Breakfast every morning. But in this situation, something told me that you can't take food from someone you just met. So she shook her head.

"I'd take another hour's NAP if I were you." We have a long way to go.

"Where to?"

The man didn't answer and started to leave. Santal felt very ill. A strange man is going to take her definitely not home, to a completely different place, and most importantly — it is unclear why.

— No! the girl screamed. "Don't! Bring me home! Please! — I wanted to cry, but for some reason I was afraid to become a laughing stock.

Her screams had no effect on her uncle, judging by the expression on his face. Instead he turned around and said with a smile:

"I'll sell it to the highest bidder, and good bye."

— No! Santal didn't know the meaning of the first word and wasn't going to find out. It was obvious that it was something evil.

And then something happened that had never happened to the girl before. Santal stretched out her arms, and some unknown force hurled the man against the wall. He slid to the floor. Sabura stared at her hands in shock. As she watched, either the blow was weak, or the blueskin was hardy, but he quickly stood up and looked at the girl strangely. She looked into his eyes and decided. Something's about to happen. Maybe he'll punish her.

"Looks like I'm getting more than I bargained for," the man said, more to himself than to Santal, who was terrified.

Three questions kept running through my mind: what would happen to her? What just happened? Suddenly , my vision began to blur, and the world around me began to turn into a mosaic. Santal felt stiff, unable to move. After a few seconds, everything was gone. The girl began to fall into an unknown abyss…

[ginnyzero]

Week 1 Booktober 2020 Intro

For new people here, I’m Ginny O. and I write books about werewolves (mostly.) I love werewolves! And my favorite thing about my Heaven’s Heathens novels is they are expansive enough I can do anything I really want with them from cozy family drama, to action scenes, to some good old fashioned makes you uneasy creepy horror.

I’m a country girl so my type of horror is ‘there is something in the woods or the cornfields and it’s watching you,’ and you don’t know what it is. It could be a deer. It could be a bear. It could be a wolf. Or a cougar. Or it could be a yeti! Or you know, a crazy man. (Very, very possible.) And “is that roadkill or is that a body?” And my second favorite type of horror is body horror since werewolves and shifting. (I like shifters.) There is something very creepy and uncomfortable about changing from a human to an animal or to a mixture of the two. And also mildly fascinating. I also like ghosts. But writing ghosts and making them work can be difficult.

What really got me into horror and the supernatural was actually the Bible. I grew up in a moderate Christian home and my mother went through this “Halloween is evil” thing after I hit about second grade I think? No more trick or treating. However, the bible has stories like flesh growing back on bones, mentions of Nephilim half-angel giants, and Christ casting demons out of people and into pigs. (I guess him raising from the dead could be creepy too. I mean, we don’t think about it that way, but it is. Crucifixion is horrifying from any angle.)

My mother, who was also my Sunday School teacher, taught me these stories at a young age, so I was really fascinated with demons and angels. She says one thing I’d do as a child is say “Satan, get thee behind me,” a lot. I don’t remember this, at all. One of the things Christian fiction will do is demons and angels! So, I would read those when I was a young teen instead of Goosebumps. Because I was allowed! Stephen R. Lawhead could be pretty creepy to young Christian teen me.

Once I started getting more secular books from the library, then I really started getting more into vampires and werewolves and stuff like that. It was more of an access thing really. It was much easier to get books out of the church library than the “local” small town library. (Not local at all, over the hill and through the woods literally to grandmother’s house we go.)

I honestly, don’t think this is what my mother wanted at all, but that’s how I got interested in the supernatural. Totally the opposite thing of what she intended I’m sure.

My current books are about werewolves, which are somewhat paranormal. And I do have ideas for a couple other books that involve more creatures, and ghosts, and witches, and creepy golems and things. I love science fiction. I love fantasy. Creepy body horror, ghosts, ‘there is a monster in those woods’ is about as close to horror as I get. But it does show up. And like, I don’t try. I like cozy things. But here, have a dash of “the chills.”

I do believe in ghosts. It’s hard not to believe in demons and angels and not also believe in ghosts. I think there are different levels of ghosts. Most are excess energy and not harmful. Others are definitely out there to hurt you. They can be attracted to negative personal energy. And if they are bound in place, will drain you. Personally, I’m careful. I don’t seek them out. I have been places where I’ve felt uneasy and found out later they were supposedly haunted. I am a low risk type of person. No thank you.

I grew up on bluegrass music, so my favorite ghost story is the one immortalized in the song Bringing Mary Home by the Country Gentleman. The song goes, a driver sees a young girl by the side of the road, so he stops, she gets in telling him her name and where she lives. He drives her home and when he gets there, she’s gone. A woman comes to the door, he tells what happens and it turns out Mary had been killed 13 years ago and he’s the 13th one to bring her home.

It’s sung in A Minor and it’s just very haunting.

Mary is what ghost hunters like to call a “rider.” A rider is someone usually killed in an accident and their spirit is bound to a stretch a road. So when someone comes along they ‘hitch’ a ride with them. Sometimes by actually having the person stop and take them to a place. Or there are riders that grab onto you. They either just appear in the car or grab you around the middle if you’re on a motorcycle or horse.

Mary is generic enough to be about any one of these. I did some research into the song at one time and found a couple stories that might fit. They’re in a bigger city. One, Mary was a young woman who went out dancing with her boyfriend in the 1920s. On the way home, she got in a car accident and now asks for rides from the scene.

The other story takes place near a graveyard. “Mary” is buried in the cemetery and it’s a well known spot that people have picked her up by the side of the road. However, bad luck tends to follow those who pick up Mary.  Car accidents and the like. Word got around. A priest found out about her, and he decided to go consecrate the gates of the cemetery.

Well, that night after he did the blessing to keep Mary in, someone drove past the cemetery and saw a little girl with blazing eyes clutching to the gate. When they went back the next morning, pressed into the metal of the gate were small hand prints from Mary.

Mary obviously wasn’t pleased.

The consecration wore off and I think the gates were eventually replaced. People still see Mary and hurry on.

Moral of the story: Beware hitch hikers. They may be ghosts.

Once again, anyone is welcome to join me in Booktober. Do you like horror or the paranormal? What got you into it? Are you a believer in the supernatural? What’s your favorite ghost story? If you’re an author, do you write it?

Next week, I’m going to talk about some of my favorite horror and paranormal books and things in book format! You can join in too! (Here is an image, totally optional if you want to use it.)

[snarkystarkybby]

: sweet like honey : Peter Parker x oc.  /two/

Hi, 

sorry about the long wait but heres chapter 2. please please please send me some feedback or requests or anything. 

hope you enjoy xo. 

The night went perfectly, and every time Honey found herself slipping into a daydream about the annoyingly perfect specimen that was peter parker, a giant neon sign screaming ‘HES GOT A GIRLFRIEND’ lit up nice and clear- effectively ruining her daydreams and annoying her to no end.

As annoying that his perfect lips and soft freckles were, she found herself completely entranced by his silky-smooth voice telling the anecdotes from his European trip. It sounded almost too amazing and so Honey attempted to distract herself with the cheesy pasta and toasted bread in front of her.

It was a stupid plan because her sudden crush on her Aunt and Uncles’ favourite apprentice? Intern? (she wasn’t sure what he actually was, but it was currently irrelevant) was sending nervous signals throughout her whole body like lighting and she wasn’t sure if at any given second she would either collapse or combust. consuming anything that wasn't small sips of water seemed sickening.

Thankfully, she made it through dinner without embarrassing herself and she couldn’t have been more thankful when Morgan asked if they could have dessert. Honey leapt from her seat and rushed towards the kitchen, Morgan hot on her heels and chattering about something the older girl couldn’t quite focus on.

Honey knew exactly what was happening from the moment she stood up. Her heart was racing, her hands were both freezing cold and clammy and no matter how hard she tried her lungs seemed to repel all intake of oxygen. Her body slid down the counter and crouched on the floor and when she felt the gaze of her younger cousin she managed to gasp out,

“I’m fine morg- please don’t tell your mom” the girl nodded almost too calmly and pushed a cup of water towards Honey.

“Honey- Honey it’s okay this happens to dad sometimes just focus on something happy” for a seven-year-old Morgan was incredibly clever and understanding. Something about that hurt Honey- kids shouldn’t see this stuff.

It felt like a lifetime but in reality, it only took a few minutes for Honey’s heart to return to normal and oxygen to return to her lungs. She felt a rush of dizziness as she stood up, but she shook it off- this had happened before, she would get over it. Morgan sent her a sad smile as Honey neglected to mention the situation and just prepared the cupcakes onto a plate; which Morgan then happily carried out.

Pepper interrupted the conversation between the three as the girls walked back towards the table- cupcakes at the ready.

“is everything okay- what took so long” Honey’s panicked face gave it away buy no one seemed to comment on her lie,

“we had to trial our treats before we served it- it’s the rules of baking” Morgan seemed to realise what her cousin was doing and just nodded and smiled, helping to settle the tale. The little brunette girl handed everyone a cupcake before digging into one herself.

Honey wanted to eat it but the still ever so present nerves and overwhelming knowledge of her recent anxiety attack caused her stomach to turn and she decided that nausea and cupcake probably weren’t the best combination.

Food was finished and it was time for Morgan to go to sleep, she insisted that Peter took her to bed and he just smiled and whisked her away towards the elevator. Which was how Honey found herself sitting next to Tony on the sofa being at the receiving end of his worried glances.

“what really happened in the kitchen?” She couldn’t find it within herself so lie so instead she just looked away and shook her head,

‘it was nothing- it happens all the time” her stomach flipped as she spoke. She never spoke- to anyone, not about this at least.

“Okay if you’re sure. if you need to talk to someone, I know I’m not the most serious person but I can be- or Pep, just as long as you’re okay” He sounded so sincere but something within her said he was lying so she felt herself closing up even more. Something within her mind screamed retreat and so she did.

“I’m really sorry Morgan had to see that it won’t happen again, thank you for dinner but I don’t feel well I’m going to head up to bed” she stood up and walked out ignoring Tony’s cries for her to stop, politely thanking her aunt for dinner and getting into the elevator.

As she pressed the button and waited for her floor, she felt the tears welling up- she hated this, why did she have to cry like a baby at the drop of a hat. Somewhere between her self-pitying and destructive thoughts, the elevator doors opened. Standing on the other side was Peter dreamboat Parker staring directly towards her reddened cheeks and streaky mascara.

Her voice croaked slightly as she coughed before pushing back the hair which had fallen in front of her face,

“I’m so sorry I’m not feeling well-, but it was really nice to meet you”

He seemed frozen and confused which only fuelled her anxiety.

Perfect, now he’s going to remember her as Pepper’s emotionally unstable weirdo niece.

There goes any chance she ever had with him. Honey rushed through the halls to her room- dramatically tossing herself onto the too-soft-silky-sheets-from-heaven and attempted to relax and forget about the night.

At the same time, Peter made his way back downstairs to the living room to see Pepper walking away -to her office he presumes-  and Tony on the sofa, the look of confusion on his face told Tony all he needed to know. So, he figured to save Honey from any embarrassment and because it wasn’t his place to explain he told Peter she was having issues with a boy from her hometown which Peter accepted and didn’t mention again.

Tony couldn’t help but notice the slight falter in Peter’s demeanour, disappointment? Anger? Sadness? when he mentioned Honey and another boy in the same sentence so partially for his own curiosity and mostly because he actually cared he asked Peter about MJ, who Tony realised had conveniently been left out of any stories about his travels.

“talking about love lives how is Wednesday” Tony tried to keep it light-hearted, but the second MJ was mentioned Peter looked like he would breakdown and cry, instead he let out a sarcastic laugh and huffed,

“I thought it was perfect- I thought we were perfect” Peter slumped back into the sofa and  ran his fingers across the back of his neck,

“in the last week of the trip she seemed off and I got so worried I didn’t know what wrong-” Tony was hadn’t meant to interrupt peter, but his mouth moved quicker than his brain,

“oh god you didn’t knock her up did you” Peters's eyes widen, and he shook his head as if to say no, tony sighed.

“thank god I thought I was going to be a grandparent” he let out a worried laugh but still peter seemed uneasy.

“We got home early this morning and went straight to her apartment ‘cause her parents are out of town, and she just sat me down and said it had to be over” Tony’s stomach sunk- MJ and Peter had been together since their school trip to Europe before sophomore year and now almost three years later a trip to Europe together was their downfall. It had to be some sort of sick joke.

“she said that we should end on a high note because why waste a summer” peter wiped hot tears from his cheeks as she spoke,

“she’s moving away for college and I’m staying here, and it wouldn’t work- she said she needed to experience life by herself, no ties” Tony had his hand running soothingly up and down peters back as she spoke through sobs and shallow breaths,

“three years and all she could say was that I was tying her down”  Peter accepted Tony’s firm hug and retreated into his arms trying to calm himself down but after suppressing his emotions he had to let it out.

“you know what Pete, I know it hurts but I doubt it was an easy decision on her behalf- you have to accept her choice” “I-i just don’t want to replace her, ill never find someone else like her” “you don’t have to replace her- you just have to find someone who you love in a million different ways. she was your first love Pete; you’ll never forget her but someday you will find the girl who makes it hard to remember anyone but her”

“is Pepper your girl?”  Tony just nodded and smiled. Pepper was his girl and he wanted nothing more than for Peter to find his. The poor spider-kid deserved it after all.

Peter ended up staying the night after he and Tony binged watched Star Wars in an effort to lighten the mood- it worked for the most part.

And when he woke up on the sofa, cold toes and yawning to be met with the gorgeous caramel eyes and blonde messy bun he realised that maybe Tony was right. So, he sat there secretly watching Honey attempted to cook pancakes? Crepes? (he wasn’t sure) with Morgan who sat on the kitchen counter laughing at the older girls’ failed attempts to flip the food, he took note of her, how she smiled at every word Morgan would say or how her golden hair would be constantly pushed away from her face.

He hated the guilty feeling deep in his stomach he felt from just observing her- he had only just been dumped and was literally sobbing about it last night shouldn’t he feel sad at least. Tony had mentioned Honey having a boyfriend so he shouldn’t get too caught up on her for one it was creepy, and he was a mess -she didn’t need his damage.

“Hey Peter, you like pancakes?” her melodic voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he followed the sound,

“yeah sounds great”

[jjkpls]

untitled (m)

> genre : smut

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader

> words : 3.6k

> warning : none

> Jeon Jungkook, the cute irresistible dongsaeng, proposes to help you out of a dry spell or something like that. (blowjob; noona kink maybe)

A/N : sorry I’m bad at summaries please read lol; also I’m sad because I couldn’t find a gif of the very moment that inspired this. also i hope the smut doesn’t suck too much (pun intended). and kookie I’m sorry TT

> Read the bonus: Jungkook’s POV after reader’s confession here !

« Wait! »

My hands jump to grab his own but I stop mid-track, almost falling off the bed. He freezes his movement, he is a second away from taking off the very last pieces of clothing covering his frame, he then raises his eyes at me. Round and large with confusion. His bottom lip, the cutely plump one, falls downward.

« What are you doing? Are you insane?! »

I may have screamed a little too hysterically because he starts pouting like an upset kid, ready to whine and maybe even cry. I almost find him adorable, almost feel bad but after a quick blink, I'm reminded that right now he is the farthest from a kid he has ever been.

His fingers are twitching nervously, centimetres away from the fly of his jeans. I am trying, concentrating all the willing power I can gather, to not look at him. But he is standing right here. So close. The enchanting smell, a mix between a sweet sugary note and a more natural one, subtle touch of sweat that makes my mouth dry and my head slightly dizzy.

I am so weak I need to close my eyes shut to stop staring at his fair skin. Even from the corner of my eyes, I can not help but notice the studded trail of hairs under his belly button, the trace his boxers' waistband has left on his skin. My heart misses a few beats and I'm terrified, for a seemingly eternal instant, that it won't start anew.

It was too sudden. It feels like a second happened between the moment he knocked on my door, and the one when he just occurs to stand right in front of me, clearly on the path of stripping himself entirely naked. His clothes must have been removed at some point but I did not even get to see it coming. Red is starting to colour his cheeks and his fingers tremble more in the air.

"Noona, you said you wanted me..." He transpires sheepishness. His words, stuttered out through pouty lips, are inarticulate, lisped even more than usual. I don't think I've heard him sounding so unconfident in the past two years. He used to be like this all the time back when we'd just met and he had a hard time hanging around me without awkwardness bubbling in his belly. I really thought that period was way behind us, buried to never see the light of day ever again as we've learned to grow so comfortable around each other. But here he is, uneasy breath stumbling out of his agape mouth, his whole being decomposing under timidness and confusion. My heart squeezes painfully in my bosom.

He doesn't get the fact that I'm turning away so far, stiff neck starting to hurt from the position, just to avoid looking at his body. He might be even a little hurt by it. My inner instinct to take care of him in any circumstances, makes me want to catch his hands in mines and squeeze them lovingly until the confusion fades away. But I know I just can not do this. Not when my fingers, even with the most careful effort, might accidentally brush against the warm skin of his chest. Not when he is mentioning this old episode. That old episode I thought had, somehow, auto-destructed itself into thin air to be forgotten by all, and especially by him -because it was over for my own case, no matter what I've tried to do: auto-hypnosis, self pep talk consisting of denying, busying my mind to make sure I don't accidentally think about it and revive the memory to my conscience, the nightmarish memory is still damnly engraved in my brain. That damned episode of that damned time when I did say that I wanted him and even more.

A little bit of soju. Literally just a little bit. I know I can not handle much alcohol. Therefore I am smart enough to avoid it for reasons similar to the one you'll learn soon enough. But I am not wise enough to ignore dumbasses provoking me restlessly.

« Laaaame! »

I glared at Kim Taehyung, head tilted to the side, eyes squinted in quiet threat. He thought he was cool but he looked ridiculous with his glassy eyes and a stupid grin he could not get rid off, swaying on his seat as if stuck on a wild boat. He had a brownish stain going from his neck to down his chest: beer he had spilt on himself after having one fucking drink. Impossible to take him seriously or even consider taking his attacks seriously. But then Park Jimin, the over sexual drunkard, was done acting like a nympho in the hallway he had decided to turn into a dancefloor and came back to the table to harass me as well, as a backup to his soulmate.

So, obviously, to shut their stupid loudmouths I downed a shot glass of soju and well, it was enough for me to lose my goddamn self-preservation and any sense of decency apparently.

It started with what I imagined to be a charming, seducing, definitely tendentious pose. Cheek set on my hand, leaning towards him with my elbow holding me up riskily on the table. I was probably swaying a little bit back and forth like the idiotic Kim Taehyung, but I didn't care. I smiled kindly at him, eyes soft and shiny with mischief.

He, as always, was sporting that dull-witted expression on his face. This kind of blank, simply still expression that doesn't say much. He looks like he is paying great attention but also like his mind is stuck somewhere else and he doesn't understand anything you're saying. Calm and relaxed, big round eyes looking confused even if he's not which, well, could be confusing.

Not that I am blaming him. But if he had a more expressive face, one that would obviously say « Noona, you're drunk and I don't feel like listening to your crap. Please shut up. » well, I would have as I should have shut up for good.

On the moment, I was mistaking the situation. Not feeling particularly weird even though I knew I was spilling some truths I had felt I shouldn't confess to him ever -at least, before this very moment of distraction. Unfortunately enough, I have a perfectly clear image of him left in my mind now. That same image that keeps making me so mortified every time it flashes, unannounced, behind my eyelids.

He was sitting still, next to me, wide eyes emphasized by his stupid Harry Potter glasses, staring at me blankly or dancing amongst the table, as if looking for any plate with anything left for him to eat. His lips slightly parted as in deep reflexion. He had a sign of... disturbance? though. Something pretty obvious. Pretty fucking obvious for someone who wouldn't be intoxicated the way I was. In fact, his leg was shaking non-stop under the table, sometimes up and down, sometimes from left to right. But mindless me, who sort of noticed, could only focus on how tight his light blue denim was stretching on his thick thigh; and the tempting skin, winking at me through the inappropriately large holes.

I leaned even closer so he could hear, him only, all that I had to tell him. About his thighs I wanted to grab, scratch, bite before riding them to cloud 9. His neck I was slightly obsessed with since I saw him once leaving a stage, pearls of sweat rolling down the expanse of his milky skin. His cute lips I imagined red, swollen from my ministration or from the effort they would put on my body; big round eyes shiny with tears from the overwhelming pleasure I wanted to torture him with; soft, dark hair stuck to his forehead, falling low on his eyes; thin waist perfectly shaped for my legs to wrap around. And his stupid ridiculous overgrown-bunny muscles that I couldn't help but imagine him using to lift me up and pin me up against the wall.

And he just left me talk. He remained there, listening carefully as he always does. Not blinking much more of usual. His doe eyes would sometimes look at me carefully, most of the times lose themselves into space, not giving up on much of what could be going on in his head. His face and neck and ears were blushing a vibrant red but I'd just assumed that the alcohol was the cause behind it. Absolutely not that I was appalling him then and there.

I had started to talk about his cock in way too obscene and creepy ways when, luckily, Park Jimin put me in a headlock, begging in a whiny honey-like voice to go dance with him. After fighting him for way too long about the fact that we were in a fucking restaurant and there was no dance floor waiting for any of us, the night I sexually harassed that poor Jungkook kid was over.

« You said that, didn't you? »

« Still, you can't- I thought- Why are you mentioning this now? »

Because it's been like five months. Since then, he's never showed any sign of interest. Literally. He's kept treating me like his noona. The unattractive noona he would not perceive like an actual potentially sexual being. As a matter of fact, he hasn't shown any sign of remembering the incident. I prayed, long and hard, for him to not have any recollection of it and it seemed to have worked. Still acting like a clown to make me laugh, invading my home to play games with me, whining cutely to have me treat him all kinds of food. There was not the least wavering in his behaviour.

I may have thought catching a bizarre hesitation in the looks he gave me at the beginning but I've come to the conclusion that the guilt and the embarrassment made me see things that were not there since, soon enough, he was back to normal.

But he did remember, didn't he?

"Noona, you need a man and I'm here." He says, firmly, straight eyebrows frowned in determination, bombing his chest. He probably thinks he looks tough but he appears quite cute like that.

"What do you mean I need a man?"

"Hyung said so." There is a curse that I can't prevent from slipping out of my mouth. I'm not sure which one of his hyungs he is talking about but I'm pissed. Why, did I think, for a second, that confiding my love -and sexual- life fiasco to them was a good idea? "I remember what you said you wanted from me the other night so here I am. I'll give it to you."

The tone of his voice, sweet and soft as always, not stranded by the tension from earlier, fills up the room and diffuses the nervosity I was suffering from. Biting back a smile, I lean to pick up the tee-shirt he discarded and give it back to him.

"Kook, I don't- Put your clothes back on."

"Wh-why? I- I will do it with you! You don't want me anymore? Why?" It takes all the power in me to not laugh at his cute desperation. I swallow it back though because I'm terrified his sheeny eyes, staring straight back into my gaze, will start spilling tears. With cautious words and a benevolent smile, I explain, calmly, that this situation is just wrong. I explain that he can't just give himself away, throwing himself at me as an offering, just because he's been told that I'm sad and lonely and horny. As kind as his gesture is -in theory- it's simply wrong. You pursue people that you want, that turn you on, not that you want to be kind to.

"I do want you, noona! I really want to do it!"

Do it. It makes me cringe. Not that he is not cute, he's quite adorable as he always is. But him not even being able because of shyness to put the right words makes me feel worse than ever. I feel like a damned sinful creature trying to corrupt a sweet innocent angel.

"You don't, Kook."

"I do!"

"You can't even name 'the thing'! You don't want it, you're just bein-"

"Stop putting words in my mouth." His hands squeeze the tee-shirt he is holding in a frustrated ball. "I do. I wanna make love with you." My heart stops once again. And my centre throbs. The whole tension from earlier trying to seep in the tip of his nose back in the conversation. He is sulking, I can tell by the lowness of his tone. Nevertheless, there is a sincerity strand impossible to ignore.

Those words I've wanted to hear for so long never sounded so good, even in the most sophisticated fantasy my mind could have come up with. My head is dizzy. My cheeks are burning. I just hope he can't see it because it'll be even harder to not give in.

"___." As if the use of my name instead of the usual honorific term doesn't translate enough his newfound confidence, Jungkook throws harshly his shirt back to the ground. Tips of cold fingers grazing the reddish apple of my cheeks, I'm exposed.

"I won't sleep with you, Jungkook." His shoulders slump down, miserably. "I'm- It's too confusing."

He is handsome. He is deadly. From the line of his body to those traits, the most captivating ones I've ever seen on any human's face. And of course, appearances and beauty are subjective. And of course, I don't think, in-depth, that they influence the least one's feeling towards someone else. Quite frankly, it's his heart the biggest and warmest one I've ever encountered that moves me. He is soft and he is so kind and so generous. Before those obscene thoughts have started invading and plugging up my mind, I only wanted to shower him with love and the most platonic kisses. I'm not even sure what happened. Probably that fucking comeback stage coming straight from hell he and his friends performed a little over a year ago.

Anyways, all I was trying to get at is that, besides his soul being so precious, he is hot as fuck and I can hardly consider that he would really, sincerely want me.

"I'm sincere! I really-"

"Jeon Jungkook, stop !" He glares at me, puffs his cheeks, sighing deeply. "You're too weird. You've never shown any interest and out of no-" In a swift motion, Jungkook grabs my hand to place it on his crotch. His bulging, obviously worked up crotch.

"Can I suck you off ?" Yes, I've just lost all willing.

"C-can you- what ?"

"Suck you off ?"

"Ye- I mean no !" He bites hard on his lower lip, the cutely plush one. "No, no, no. It's me- I'm- I'll take care of you."

"Kook, you want to do something for me ?" He nods eagerly, hair flying around, feet scooting unconsciously on the carpet to get closer. "Then let me do this. Pleasing you is what I want."

"Only if you let me take care of you afterwards." He is all frowned eyebrows and tight jaws, looking like a serious negotiator. Therefore, I simply nod, crossing under my thigh my fingers because it's a lie.

Trembling fingertips reach to touch the soft skin of his hips, he flinches under the touch and I almost decide to retract them once and for good. It's a quick glance up to his face that makes me change my mind and grab with more assurance the hem of his jeans. He is looking down at me with this telling glint shining in his pretty eyes. He really wants it. I have no doubt anymore. He is just as nervous as I am.

Leaning forward, I press a soft kiss against his bustling heart, trying to get him to relax as my hands work on getting him out of his pants. He breathes out, his nose releasing a tiny whistle that makes me grin against his skin. I'm so done for this boy. "Kook, I'm a bit eager so I won't take my time. I hope it's okay for you." I ask, peering at him from under. His jeans are unfastened and balled up around the middle of his meaty thighs -the prospect of losing probably 5 good minutes in getting those tight as hell jeans off of him just convinced me to keep them here. Meaty thighs I can't keep my fingers from digging in. God, how greedy I've been for these thighs.

"It's okay, noona, anything is okay." He reassures quickly, words tumbling out messily from the tautness he is under. When I grab a full hand of his still clothed shaft, he twitches not only under my fingers but his whole body does, a loud whimper erupting from him.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" I ask, a hint of a sneer in the edges of my tone. I'm not mean, I swear. But the cute uncontrolled noises and the vibrant red of his cheeks are just lavishing.

"Yeah, I- fu-" He bites back the curse that almost slipped when I've started massaging him, slowly but firmly, through his underwear. This cutie still cares about not cursing around me. He'll be the death of me.

He is already so hard and he feels so burning hot, my mind starts falling in a haze. It's insane the effect Jungkook has on me. He hasn't touched me in the least bit but I feel like a few words whispered by him might make me come undone.

The darker stain appearing on the tissue resolves me to get to it already. Exhaling hard as to chase away the anxiety, I slip one of my hand inside, dragging the waistband down with the other one. My eyes are observing his face carefully as to delay the moment I'll have to face his cock. Jungkook is so quiet, eyes wide and apprehensive. I smile gently at him, caring to defuse his possible uneasiness despite having to deal with my own. I don't know why I'm so nervous. Maybe because I can't really believe this is happening. Maybe because in the back of my head, anxious little versions of me are running around like headless chickens, bumping into each other, yelling something about what's going to happen after with him, our friendship and everything and everybody else. Maybe because it's been a while since the first and last time I've given head -a debacle, let's not mention it- and I'm terrified to mess up.

When I finally take my wild thoughts under control, I allow my gaze to fall down from his pretty eyes and linger on the object of all my fantasies. My heart is beating like crazy, and my breath seems too short, but I'm overwhelmed by greed and don't let another instant to pass before quite literally jumping on it.

With no sense of shame or embarrassment or doubt, I engulf the most I can of his member, swallowing around it like a starve woman, encouraged by the hissing and whining coming straight from his core.

I am way more selfish than he probably thinks me to be right now. As I'm leaning further on his shaft, between kisses and licks and sucks, slowing my pace so I can feel and enjoy the heat and the smoothness and the dizzying heaviness of his cock on my tongue, I know I wouldn't want to be anywhere else doing anything else. I'm not even sure I would trade this to have him take direct care of my needs. And I know, I am, right now, creating excellent material to recycle for the years of lonely nights I might have to spend in the future.

"Fuck, ___." He groans, looking straight into my eyes. He looks absolutely breathtaking like that. Hair sticky to his forehead, few droplets of sweat rolling down his neck, eyes glassy, and mouth agape. His bottom lip, the cute, slightly crooked plump one I too often tend to be mesmerized by when he talks, is dark as hell and I think I even catch a glimpse of bloody red.

His heavy hooded eyes are clinging to my own in an inescapable hold as my hand jerks him off fast.

"Are you close?" I breathe out, voice hoarse, mostly strained by arousal. His head falls back with another groan. He's too immersed in his own pleasure to answer but the angry red his tip is tainted with tells on him. Closing my mouth gently around the tasty-looking head, I suck hard, jerking hard while his hips follow with an erratic thrusting.

He curses and groans and whines, loud and clear, unbothered by how he might sound to me or even to my neighbours, as I help him out through his orgasm. My name erupts again and again from his sweet lips and I moan from down here, clutching my thighs one against the other wondering if I could actually come just by hearing this sinful calling of my name.

Once I swallowed everything he gave me, I peck his cock gently and release him from my hold. He falls on the bed, spent and eyelids struggling to stay open.

"Do you wanna sleep here ?"

"No, I- I'm not sleeping, I have to give it back to you."

I chuckle at his form, slumped on the mattress clearly not ready to give anything at the moment, and proceed to tuck him under the covers after I've freed him from his jeans and arranged his briefs back on. He complains for good measure but I can hear, as I'm leaving for the bathroom, that he's started snoring.

And shit, I'm not even mad about it.