#peering in the mailbox // asks and replies

[knightyoomyoui]

MiNayeon (Mina x Nayeon)- “Back To You”

"And that will do it," Mrs. Myoui said after decorating the walls with photo frames. "Phew, we finished sooner than I expected," she exclaimed, wiping her sweat away with a towel.

Mr. Myoui approached his wife and took the towel to help himself wipe the sweat away. "Oh cmon, hon. Great teamwork is usually the secret to a group activity's success," he kissed his wife's forehead, making her smile widely at her husband's constant tenderness. "And, of course, our big boy right here will be the MVP, as you always do," Mr. Myoui said, pointing to his son, Kai, who had just finished piling boxes at the door.

Kai snorted. "Dad, my football profile has no connection of this, okay?" he said, smiling with his cherished family. "And please, don't make me the most useful of us here; what matters is that we all completed our task properly at the same time," he remarked, widening his arms.

"Tsk, humble.", Mrs. Myoui clucked her tongue and pursed her lips at her son. "So, how's our new house now?" she asked, rotating her body to glance around the interior of their new home. Her hands were on each side of her waist.

"Great.", said Mr. Myoui.

"Looking good.", Kai agreed.

"Minari, how about you?" Mrs. Myoui asked the young lady who was standing on the door, still peering outdoors as she looked about at this unfamiliar environment.

"U-uhh, I agree with you all too okasan," replied Mina, the Myoui family's daughter, turning her body to face her parents and brother, who were observing her. "I'll miss our previous place, but I know I'll get used to being here," she says softly.

"I'm glad you feel the same way, Mina," her father nodded, smiling at her daughter. "Anyway, let's take a break for now. Let's just continue what we need to do tomorrow.," the rest quickly responded, and moved on to do whatever they wanted to give themselves for a break after such a long tiring day.

Meanwhile... A girl named Nayeon, who was dressed in a school uniform, was strolling down the sidewalk of a street in Incheon. She had just turned onto another street when she noticed the house she always gets to view first has its lights completely lit.

"Someone moved in today?" she perplexingly said. She took the last few steps before arriving at her house and examined the mailbox, which had the words "Im Residence" inscribed on it.

Seeing nothing, she opened and locked the front gate before entering their house.

"Good evening, mom and dad," she said as she removed her black shoes and placed them on the shoerack behind the door.

"Good evening, honey," her mother, who was in the kitchen, said to her.

"Good evening, daughter. How's your class?" her father said, reclining on the couch and watching TV.

"Stressful as usual," she sighed tiredly, but she kept her voice upbeat. "Uhh, by the way, I observed that the house in our front looks like it's now occupied," she said, pointing to the back above her shoulder, referring to the outside where the house Nayeon saw is located.

"Oh yes yes, a family moved there earlier this morning, about an hour after you departed., Mrs. Im stated. She then placed her freshly cooked Korean-style honey glazed fried chicken on the table. Both Nayeon and her father's tongues watered at how delicious it looked.

"I also suspected that as they were taking out their things to place inside, they were speaking something that I don't understand at all," Mr. Im said, recounting what he saw hours before.

"Perhaps you don't hear them clearly, dad," Nayeon explained after hugging both her mother and father.

"No, I swear I heard them loud and clear," Mr. Im said, pointing his index finger at his ear. " They were literally shouting at each other in a different language. "

"I guess they're foreigners.", his wife said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Oh okay.", Nayeon nodded after she understood what her father is saying. "I'm just gonna go upstairs to change, mom!"

"Okay! Be right back and join us to eat after, dear!", Mrs. Im said to her daughter who just took the stairs to reach the next floor where her own personal room is.

THE NEXT DAY

Mina just picked up a ketchup-flavored chip from a shelf inside a convenience store she visited this morning. She was about to turn right next to the beverages section after placing it in her basket when she accidently bumped into someone.

She raised her head to look at the person she had just collided with, not expecting to see a woman she knew. Her eyes widened as she recognized the woman standing in front of her, who was also carrying her own basket.

"M-Mina?!"

"N-Nayeon?" she gasped.

"H-hey! Long time no see!" said Nayeon, stammered at first due to the sudden nervousness she felt after seeing again the person she had previously been very close with.

"Yeah, you too," Mina replied, almost having the same feelings Nayeon is having at their current encounter.

"Didn't expect to encounter you here," Nayeon chuckled, still unable to keep her gaze fixed on Mina. "I-I'm here to get some of the missing ingredients for today's lunch, you?" she asked Mina, raising her basket slightly to point at.

"Ahh... yeah, I'm just here to get some snacks."

"You done? I'm going to take this to the cashier now," Nayeon questioned again. "We can both go there instead," she suggested.

"Yeah, I'm just n-needing to get the cola behind you, Nayeon." Nayeon lets out a small "oh" sound as she realizes she has unwittingly blocked Mina's way for her last item to grab. She took a step back to allow Mina reach the can of cola in the freezer before placing it in her basket.

They then went to the cashier together and paid for their own items. They walked out of the store, continuing their talk while holding their plastic bags full of goods.

"How are you, Mina? It's been a year since we last saw each other right?", Nayeon said, coming up with a new topic to check up with her former classmate.

"How are you, Mina? It's been months since we last saw each other, right?" Nayeon asked, inserting a new topic to discuss with Mina.

"That was after our graduation and departure from high school last year,yes" Mina confirmed. She then curved her lips upwards on both sides to give Nayeon a smile. "I'm good, how about you?"

"Same here. Still managing to survive college," Nayeon said with a wide grin on her face, displaying her cute front bunny teeth.

"So uhhh.... what school are you currently studying at?"

"I was at SNU but I placed the past tense because I will drop out there and move to a new school because my family just moved to a new house here in Incheon from Seoul."

"Oh... is that so?" Nayeon then reacted fascinately. "Wait, so that means you now live close here? I've been buying stuffs at that store for so long yet I never seen you there not until today," she said confidently at how very certain it is.

"Yup, I'm only two blocks away," Mina said, nodding her head. "I don't know what the name of our new address is yet; I was merely drawn here by my curiosity while walking about for a bit," she admitted shyly, scratching her nape.

"We're actually the same," Nayeon stated, making Mina gape in amazement. "Two blocks, you say? Well, that street is...", Nayeon paused after when she began to finally guess what Mina is talking about as she raised her hand, only two fingers standing and the rest curled.

"Wait, IS YOUR HOUSE'S COLOR ARE WHITE AND MINT?", Nayeon's voice got louder as she asked Mina, who got startled at her sudden question.

"Yeah, how did you-" Mina halted, her face revealing the same emotion as Nayeon when she realized what Nayeon is talking about. "Oh my god..."

"No wayyyy!!! Y-you!!!" they both came to a stop as Nayeon jumped up and down with a wide grin on her face, clutching one hand into Mina's arm and using the other to point at her. "You and your family were the ones my family mentioned to me yesterday about taking the vacant house in front of us!!!," she said, her tone rising with enthusiasm.

"Does that mean that...",

"YEAH WE'RE NEIGHBORS, MINA!", Nayeon exclaimed and laughed after. Mina got stunned for a second before she also started to let out a disbelief chuckle and joined Nayeon in her laughter. "Wow, I can't believe this. I thought our meet up would only last a little but now... I guess it won't be the last yet then."

"If that so then I'm glad you're my neighbor and the first one I met in our neighborhood.", Mina smiled, feeling relieved. "Pardon me again, I really am still not completely familiar with this place.", she shyly said.

Nayeon shook her head. "Don't be, leave it to me, I'll help you get used to be around here," she assured Mina. "Even if we haven't met in a year, I hope you haven't forgotten that I'm still your friend, Mina and I have to do this." Nayeon then gave her a trustworthy grin, just as she used to do for her whenever she had problems in their high school years.

Mina, on the other hand, can't believe they've become this close again despite not seeing each other for a year and also when that moment occurred between them last year.

It gradually led her to believe that Nayeon had forgotten about it already and moved on.

"I didn't, I swear," Mina said, raising her hand and posing as if she's truly swearing to her words. "If we weren't anymore, we wouldn't converse like this as if we were very close together. Thank you, Nayeon. I appreciate it," she said, smiling gratefully to demonstrate her sincerity.

"You're welcome.", Nayeon responded.

Just after they finished talking, they took a left next to the street where they both live in front of each other. "All right, we're both here now; let's chat more later, okay?" Nayeon said as she and Mina stopped in front of her house. Mina also agreed with an "okay" on Nayeon.

"Do you still use your account where I'm one of your friends?"

"Yup."

"Okayyy!!! Nice meeting you again and welcome to our neighborhood, Mina!" exclaimed Nayeon wholeheartedly.

"T-thank you, Nayeon," Mina replied with a gummy smile. She waved farewell to Nayeon as she opened her gate and entered her house.

Mina crossed the street and walked inside her own house. She exhaled in relief as she slumped her body on the couch, knowing that happily; aside from her family, shealso knows someone around here who is very close to her, and that person is Nayeon.

3 WEEKS LATER

The two began to communicate and meet more frequently, usually to spend their free time together, though they were still able to interact with one another even when they were busy through chat or even a call. They appear to have discovered a new way to entertain themselves by simply being together.

As an unexpected result, Mina slowly developed a secret romantic attraction to Nayeon because of these. She didn't realize it at first that whenever she wanted to see and to be with Nayeon, it held a whole new meaning and something more than what Nayeon and her could only imagine.

Not until Mina and Nayeon went to an amusement park together as part of Nayeon's deal with Mina that she'll take her to the rides if Mina earns a high score in more than two subjects.

Encouraged and motivated even more by her crush-which, as previously stated, she was unaware of-, she did everything she could to focus on the exam and meticulously answer every question on the test. As a result, Mina received high marks in three core subjects: English, Math, and Science. She received 47, 49, and a perfect score out of 50.

Leading her tonight with Nayeon as both of them are now riding at one of the compartments that belongs to the giant ferris wheel here at Incheon's amusement park.

As they're just inches away from reaching the maximum height level of the wheel, Mina got her heart rattled in immense surprise when she heard Nayeon shouted loudly out of nowhere while using her phone.

"Hey," Mina said to Nayeon, who was concealing her mouth while staring at her phone. "What happened to you? You startled me so much," she giggled, amused by this bunny's yell.

"Sorry. I just couldn't help it.", Nayeon waved it off as her chubby baby cheeks starting to form some reddened blush all over it.

"Why did you screamed? Are you afraid of heights?", Mina teased Nayeon.

Nayeon smirked at Mina while puzzledly looking at her. "No, I won't be joining with you here if that's the case. I can't even pretend at something I know will endanger my consciousness," she said, shaking her head.

"Okay, that's understandable," Mina conceded, nodding her head and pursing her lips to signify that Nayeon had convinced her of her reasoning. "Then, what's with the sudden scream?"

"U-uhh... it's because..." Mina's curiosity grew as she spotted that Nayeon was hardly blushing. She was dragged down into the depths of her emotions as everything just flipped to the opposite when she heard the one thing that served as a trigger that would finally make her realize the one thing that her blindness was keeping it hidden.

And I screamed loudly-sorry again-because I just can't hold my voice and breath at how gorgeous she is here." Nayeon continued speaking and then showed her phone to Mina, who is now paying less attention to Nayeon but still able to understand what caused Nayeon to react as she did earlier. "Look, she's so beautiful here, right? "

Mina saw a selfie of a woman uploaded on Instagram with the username "m.by__sana" and assumed it was the account used by Nayeon's crush. She's not going to lie; this woman is stunning. It won't surprise her if she's an aspiring model or an idol because her beauty defines her as if she was born for it.

"Y-yeah... that j-justifies your reaction w-well.", Mina said between her stutters, also presenting the fakest smile she ever made in her life so far.

"See!!! I told you! " Nayeon said, her body quivering from the intense thrill caused by the woman she admires. Those people at our campus talking about her were right. Whether you're a boy or a girl, you'll either turn straight or gay only because of her beauty, and I'm pleased to say that I'm one of those people she caught! " Nayeon continued. She had no idea that her companion beside her had very little amusement left in her.

"What's her name?" Mina asked seriously. If looks can kill, Nayeon isn't even aware that she's in grave danger.

"Sana. She's Japanese too, like you. "

"Oh... okay.",Mina flashed a quick unrealistic smile again and returned her lips flat as she stared at Nayeon bitterly while she continued typing on her phone, probably complimenting her crush with her dummy account or any possibilities that were coming into her mind all at once.

The more it disturbs her mind, Mina's mood keeps on getting worse to the point that it pushes her to make this stop already so that it won't completely ruin her night with Nayeon.

"N-Nayeon... can you use your phone later?" Mina asked her busy friend, still trying to compose herself so she wouldn't be affected by these strange feelings she was having. "L-let's look at the stars too! She suggested, "They are surprisingly many tonight!", but it was only a ruse from her so that she could give an excuse for Nayeon to get rid of herself from the phone.

"Okayyy, I'm back.", Nayeon turned off her phone and placed it in her pocket. A huge sigh was released from Mina's mouth. Nayeon looked up to the sky to follow what Mina said. "Y-You are correct, they perfectly match the ambiance of the park, and it makes the night brighter," Nayeon said, loving the sparkling dust of the space visible to her eyes. She thought her friend was looking up at her, but Mina was actually paying more attention to her side profile, as her perspective on Nayeon had finally altered from just a normal friend to something more than that, something that involved a deep and strong feeling within her.

"Mina, you keep staring at my face. You don't have to be afraid to tell me if there's something-" Nayeon observed Mina out of the corner of her eye but was cut off by the latter.

"No... no, there's none, Nayeon." Mina was embarrassed when Nayeon caught her, causing her to hurriedly shift her head away from the girl and redirect her gaze to the starry sky. "It'sjust that... you look breathtaking tonight."

Nayeon burst out laughing at Mina's remark, causing her to playfully shove Mina away with her arm. "What's your point, Mina?" "You're making me flutter, aren't you?" she exclaimed. Mina's mood lifted slightly as she realized she had made Nayeon insanely delighted because of her this time. "I know, I'm glad you know too," Nayeon remarked, teasingly flipping her hair in the air and stared closely at Mina.

"Well it's g-good that you know at yourself too b-because that's the truth.", Mina stuttered, shyly avoiding Nayeon's playful deep stare at her, knowing it could melt her in an instant.

"Aish, just let's take a picture!",laughing again at Mina's comment while the blush on her face lingers, which was at first generated by Sana but has now been replaced by Mina.

Mina then leaned in close to Nayeon, her heart starting to beat rapidly. They both looked at the camera and smiled broadly as they posed for a picture. They checked it, both were pleased with the result. For a brief moment, Mina forgot what she had learned earlier... because all she could think about was Nayeon again.

As they waited for the ride to end, the two became stuck in silence and instead chose to just look around at the nighttime landscape of Incheon. Mina was yawning heavily as Nayeon moved her head to look at her. Then she watched Mina put her chin back over the top of her palm that was resting on the handle.

Nayeon reduced the distance between Mina and herself by moving her body closer to her. She catches Mina off guard by grabbing her head and laid it on her lap, voluntarily serving as Mina's pillow.

"Let's go home now after this; you're already tired, I see.", Nayeon said softly to Mina as she proceeded to stroke Mina's black hair. Mina, who was bewildered at Nayeon's action, watched her friend's face staring up above as the moonlight struck directly within her, highlighting her beauty, which she didn't expect that there would be a time that she'd fall in love with it too.

After the ride ended, Mina and Nayeon took a taxi together on the way home. Reaching their destination, the two are now standing in front of Mina's house, as Nayeon wanted to watch her friend go inside.

"Thank you for today, Nayeon; I had a great time with you." Mina quietly giggled, clasping her hands and pressing them against her chest.

"That proves that my money and our time were well spent," Nayeon said triumphantly. "You're always welcome, Mina. Goodnight!!! "

"Goodnight, Nayeon." Mina then waved her hands goodbye to Nayeon, who reciprocated with a smile. The two went into their respective houses and shared their day with their parents, who were both still up.

But Mina preferred to tell that part to someone she knows who can help her about this instead.

After a quick bath, Mina changed into her sleeping attire and headed to her bedroom, eventually falling asleep on her comfortable bed, making a mental note for tomorrow morning to tell her friend and classmate at her college university where she is studying at.

4 DAYS LATER

Nayeon was in her bedroom, writing her own reviewer for her impending exam, when the doorbell rang.

She looked through the window to see who had pressed it, and to her surprise, it was Mina's mother, Ms. Myoui, standing in front of their gate, waiting for someone to appear.

She dashed downstairs and opened the door to see Ms. Myoui standing at the gate. Nayeon greeted her elder politely as soon as they met each other. "Oh... k-konnichiwa, okasan..." she said respectfully, bowing her head and bending her body.

"Konnichiwa, Nayeon-chan.", Mrs. Myoui said; doing the same as Nayeon.

"What brings you here, okasan?"

"Uhm I was wondering if can I have some favor from you?", Mrs. Myoui requested, making Nayeon curious.

"F-favor? What is it, okasan?", she asked curiously.

"Me and my husband are going to attend our company's job fair today for two days but something happened that made us wanting not to continue going there anymore.", Mrs. Myoui started to explain. "Sadly, even if we want to, we can't because me and my husband has respective booths there at the job fair. Kai's on the other hand, is on his football practice."

"Ohhh okay, what's the problem then okasan?"

"Mina is sick, and we wanted to ask you if you could be Mina's guardian for today, if that is okay with you." Mrs. Myoui, said Nayeon nervously. Her eyes widened with surprise and anxiety when she learned of Mina's condition today. "We are literally frightened right now. She didn't even attend her class today because of her high fever," Mrs. Myoui added, her voice tinged with panic and worry.

Without thinking twice and a pause of hesistation, Nayeon quickly accepted Mrs. Myoui's favor for today. She knows it will be just easy and after all, she's doing this for her beloved friend. "Don't worry, okasan. I'll take care of Mina. I don't have that more schoolworks to do anyways, just reviewing for our upcoming exam.", Nayeon assuringly said.

"Ahh okay.", Mrs. Myoui nodded her head after she understood Nayeon. She grabbed her wrists after and looked at her gratefully. "Thank you so much Nayeon for this. You can expect a repay from me-",

"No, okasan. Save it.", Nayeon shook her head, interrupting Mrs. Myoui to decline her offer as a replace for her good deed. "Mina's my friend, and helping her through her hard times and seeing her okay because of me is enough for me already.", Nayeon said, showing an assuring smile.

"I'm really happy that Mina met a nice person like you, Nayeon. You are surely trustworthy.", Mrs. Myoui said, tapping and squeezing Nayeon's hands.

"And I'm glad that I met your daughter too, okasan.", Nayeon said in return.

"I have to leave now. Please send my greetings and apologies for my favor to your parents, okay?" said Mrs. Myoui. She then reached into her pocket, inserted her hand to retrieve the house key and gave it over to Nayeon. "Here's our house key, and based on my estimation, you can give her medicine later at 4," she said to Nayeon as she dropped the keys in her palm. "We have to leave now or we'll be late; bye and thank you again, Nayeon-chan!"

"Bye, okasan!", Nayeon said, waving her hand at Mrs. Myoui who is now entering their car along with her husband who will drive them both through the job fair. After Nayeon watched her slowly disappear from the distance, she looked at the keys in her hands before crossing the road and go to Mina's house.

After Nayeon opened the door carefully, she looked around the place inside the house. It was very neat, the furnitures were placed well. She kinda had some Japanese vibes around here as she looked around at some stuffs that definitely defines their culture, and Nayeon was very invested with it.

She also looked at the picture frames where it displays Mina in her different age along with her family. Nayeon then lastly saw Mina's graduation picture, reminding her of what happened last year that caused their goodbye to each other on exiting high school to get ruined.

She shook her head to get it out of her thoughts. Nayeon decided to walk down the stairs leading to the top floor after not seeing Mina in the living room.

When Nayeon reached the second floor, there were three rooms in the corridor; nevertheless, the namecards made the job easier because Nayeon saw Mina's name placed on the door that was located in the middle.

She slowly opened the door to find Mina peacefully asleep on her bed, her entire body wrapped in a blanket. Her room was already warm because her air conditioner and electric fan were both switched off. Nayeon had already guessed that this was Mina's method of sweating off the heat in her body to reduce her fever.

Nayeon took a step to the side of the bed and leaned in closer to the sleeping Mina, resting the back of her hand against Mina's forehead.

"She's burning.", Nayeon said after she felt Mina's temperature."She's lucky her parents still care for her even if they chose work today.", Nayeon whispered as she looked at Mina worriedly. She then decided to left the room and go back to her house to grabe the materials she'll need to review.

Notifying her parents about Mrs. Myoui request, they allowed her right after since Mina and her parents know each other already.

5 HOURS LATER

"Mina... mina... hey, wake up penguin.", Nayeon said as she gently shaked Mina's sleeping figure. Couple of attempts has done and in success, Mina woke up as she blinked her eyes rapidly, regaining her vision.

"Aer... Ju-.. Wai-...N-Nayeon?", Mina said after she finished rubbing her eyes off and identified the person standing beside her.

"Hi."

"Why are y-you here? You might get infected...", Mina confusedly asked. She tried to lift her body up on the bed but Nayeon prevented her and slowly pushed her back to lay down.

"It's just fever.", Nayeon reasoned out. "What matters here today is that you're sick and I'm here to take care of you."

"T-take care of me?", Mina's eyes widened at what she heard from Nayeon.

"Yup. Your mother requested this of me and I easily accepted it, so... for today, I will stand as your temporary guardian for today.", Nayeon proudly said as she presented herself to Mina. Observing that she hadn't said anything in return and still frozen in her shock and embarrassment, Nayeon then asked as she wondered. "Hey, is there a problem?"

"N-nothing... it's... it's just embarrassing," Mina said in hushed tones, since the softness of her voice, combined with her sickness for the day, reduced the energy and volume of her voice even more. Nayeon simply adjusted herself for Mina by paying close attention to what she was saying instead, and when she heard what Mina said, she burst out laughing.

"You're cute, Mina.", Nayeon said, rolling her eyes as she shook her head while smirking. Her compliment made Mina's cheeks became beet red again, smiling uncontrollably. "Don't be, okay? I willingly took this, so please do the same for me."

"O-okay.", Mina agreed.

"All right, here I made you some porridge; I did my best," Nayeon said, taking the tray behind her from Mina's study table. She assisted Mina in gently placing it on her lap so that the hot porridge in the bowl would not spill. "You need to eat first before taking your medicine," Nayeon said, taking the spoon.

Mina's eyes widened as she realized Nayeon was going to feed her like a baby, as the spoon with porridge approached her face. "Wait... I-I can do it my-"

"Sssh stop," Nayeon admonished, leaving her no choice but to comply. "Let me do it; just keep resting there," she said. She had no choice but to let Nayeon finally put the spoon in her mouth to make her taste the porridge she had made. Nayeon asked curiously after releasing the spoon from her mouth. "How's it?"

"Good enough," Mina answered, slowly nodding her head as she chewed her food.

"Phew. "That's a relief," Nayeon said, wiping away her anxious sweats. "Here, keep eating; you need your stomach full," Nayeon said as she scooped another and fed another to Mina.

"You wore it." Nayeon said, not looking at Mina.

"Hmm? "What-," Mina was going to question what Nayeon was saying when she noticed her staring at the necklace she was wearing, which instantly transported her to a past with her that heavily involved this treasured item for her to finally understand. "Oh, yeah, I did."

"Wasn't that my Valentine's present to you last year?" Nayeon asked, laughing as she remembered the story behind the necklace. "You didn't realize that was one of my ways of discreetly showing that I had a crush on you back then."

"I can't throw such beautiful thing like this, especially when it's from my... f-friend.", she added, bitterly smiling after hesitating to continue saying the last words because it makes her heart ache knowing that it will most likely be the last time they get to treat each other forever.

"Here's your medicine, by the way," Nayeon said as she lent it along with a glass of water to Mina next. "Take it so you can have a rest now." Mina followed Nayeon and placed the capsule in her mouth before drinking water to swallow it.

While seeing Mina finally drink her medicine, she tried to excuse herself after she remembered that she still had something to do downstairs. "I'll be just down-"

"C-can you stay here?"

"Hmm?", Nayeon turned around and looked at Mina, who interrupted her excuse to ask something she didn't expect. "You... want me to stay here?"

"I don't want to sleep yet. I already gained some energy because of your food, so... please? I don't want to be alone. ", Mina pleaded, pouting her lip to make her Nayeon submit and grant her wish.

Nayeon, who thinks that Mina is too adorable to resist, accepted her request, making Mina happy. "Sure, Mina. I guess I need this to have some rest too from studying." She nodded her head in agreement.

Mina flashed a gummy smile on her face. "Here, join me in bed." She patted the empty space in her bed to give it to Nayeon. She sat at it, and now both of them are in bed side by side.

"Can I lay my head on your shoulder?"

"Yup.", Nayeon permitted. Mina then proceeded to do what she asked for. She didn't know that this girl is just beyond amazing where only just a simple little touch or even seeing her just very near from her could make her go crazy in love already.

"Want to watch a movie?", Mina asked.

"Who's gonna pick?"

"Do you want to?"

"Yes.", Nayeon nodded.

"Well I want to pick too. So, to make it fair... both of us will pick.", Mina said.

"Then we will watch two movies?"

"Yeah," Mina nodded. Nayeon felt Mina's very warm head brush off slightly through her sleeve. "Alright, you pick first." Mina then reached for the remote control along with the lampshade and some mini picture frames placed on top of a small cabinet.

She pressed the power button as she pointed the remote through the sensor to turn on the TV.

Nayeon smiled as she braced herself to watch it again, despite how many times she'd seen it before.

" That's a pretty long title." Mina chuckled.

"Yeah, but the film itself is so good." Nayeon said. Mina then searched for the film and they watched it together where they mostly cried during the entire film because of how great the acting of Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet were as Joel and Clem. Like, for example, their scene where Joel recalled how he and Clem first met at the beach.

Mina was also secretly taking a glimpse of Nayeon, who was focused on watching the movie.

While watching the next movie, Mina suggested, Nayeon noticed that she was already sleeping in her arms. She was staring at her elegant face, which she used to adore before, when she was so in love with Mina back then.

Up until now, it still was, although not the same as she could tell about her feelings for Mina. She knows she's already done and openly accepted her fate that she would never be Mina's type. That's why she tried to find someone and, luckily, she found Sana, and now she's raising her hopes up again that she'll succeed this time to win her heart.

She wondered if Mina was already in love or in a relationship too, especially with that girl she had a crush on back in high school. She hasn't seen or heard any updates about her admiring someone. Whatever the case may be, all Nayeon could say to her friend was "good luck."

Nayeon then took a picture of her and Mina before she carefully moved Mina's head away from her lap and fixed her position again on the bed to make her sleep comfortably.

She patted her head one last time before going downstairs and continuing reviewing for the exam.

THE NEXT MORNING

Mina, who is now almost recovered from her sickness, went downstairs after waking up at 8 a.m. Thankfully, her vision wasn't too blurry for her to get dizzy anymore, so she could carefully move around her head again a little.

Stepping into the living room, she stepped on the smell of something being cooked, and there she saw Nayeon standing in the kitchen, looking very focused on chopping tomatoes.

"What are you cooking?" Mina suddenly asked, making Nayeon shout in surprise. Mina laughed when she saw Nayeon breathe heavily while placing her hand on her chest.

"O-oh.. M-Mina you're awake... jeez you don't have to scare at me like that!", Nayeon sulked, stomping her feet on the floor. Mina just mouthed a "sorry" to her. "Uhh I'm making breakfast and..."

"I smell something burning...", Mina quickly said, after sniffing her nose at the smell and quickly detecting the source of it. Nayeon followed where Mina was looking, and there they both were now looking at the burnt bacon in the pan.

"Right... aish..." she hurriedly grabbed a tong and removed the burnt bacon to throw it away. I just wasted high quality bacon again. "I'm sorry," she said shyly, scratching her nape.

Mina laughed. "You look struggling."

Nayeon nodded, agreeing with what Mina observed for her. "I tried cooking, that's why." Nayeon eagerly said, "I'm honestly not good but... I want to learn." She then stepped forward in front of Mina and placed her backhand on her forehead. By the way, your fever is slightly gone now. "You ain't hot anymore."

"All thanks to you." She pinched Nayeon's chubby cheek, making it red again, not just because of her pinch.

Having remembered what happened at the amusement park where Mina used Nayeon's weakness, she then planned on doing it again to tease her and... hopefully to impress and try to make her get attracted back to her again instead of that woman named Sana.

She also followed what her friend told her a few days ago after they talked when she and Nayeon went home from the amusement park. Her friend made her understand again that Sana is just Nayeon's crush and hasn't been accepted nor rejected yet. That's why she suggested Mina try to win Nayeon back again after she made Mina answer it by herself that she is definitely now in love with Nayeon after giving her the hints she did to look back.

"Here, I'll help you. Let's cook breakfast together." Mina said, and then grabbed another apron hanging on the wall to wear.

"Are you sure? You might get tired easily, but you still need to rest. "," Nayeon concernedly asked.

Don't worry much about me, Nayeon. In fact, being with you is already my rest.", Mina said, smiling. After that, Nayeon was instructed by Mina on what to do step by step, carefully so that she could follow.

While preparing the garlic, Mina noticed that Nayeon's technique of chopping was very dangerous, putting her hands at high risk of getting cut.

Keeping her other side of herself for today as Sharon, the most intense and serious one of hers, she stepped behind Nayeon and locked her in her arms, gliding her hands slowly through Nayeon's and grasping her. Her head is laying low just right next to Nayeon's face.

"Follow my hand. Hold your knife like this, then guide it through the blade as you chop," she whispered straight to Nayeon's ear, making Nayeon secretly feel goosebumps. Place your hand like this so you can't cut yourself. She said, now leaning away from her ear, and then pursed her lips to look closely at Nayeon.

Nayeon gulped at how close they were to facing each other. Mina smirked and then patted her shoulder to make her motivated.

Hours later, after they ate breakfast and while Mina was resting on the couch, typing on her phone, and Nayeon was reviewing once again, they were surprised by the familiar shout they heard coming from the door.

"They're here." Nayeon said as she looked at the door like Mina did. She stood up and opened the door, meeting Mina's parents standing in front of her.

"Good morning, Nayeon," the married couple greeted Nayeon in sync. Nayeon greeted them back too. She gave them the way to enter, and they did, removing their shoes and placing them on the rack.

"Good morning Minari... you're okay now?" Mr. Myoui asked her daughter immediately after he saw her on the couch.

"Yes, mom and dad, just a few more rests and I'll be fine.", Mina assured her father and even her mother, who were probably asking the same thing as what her husband did.

Mrs. Myoui then looked at Nayeon, who had just finished preparing her things. "Thank you so much again, Nayeon. Please, if we can help you and your family next time.. feel free to let us know, okay? "

"Yes, okasan." Nayeon replied, taking that in her mind. She then looked at her watch to check the time. "I have to go now, auntie and uncle. I still have some volleyball practice to attend. "," she excused. "Hey, Mina, are you free tomorrow?"

"Hmm, I'll check. Why?

"If you want, come to our campus' court and watch me play for our final game." Nayeon said, inviting Mina.

"Oh wow, sure then Nayeon!" Mina immediately accepted. I'll do my best to be there and support you. Just name the time, okay? "

Nayeon then placed her things on the table just to run towards Mina and hug her tightly, making Mina panic deep inside at the body contact.

"Yayyy! "Thank you!", she happily said. Mina can't help but to blush harder and let out a wide grin on her face because it really is that very uncontrollable to hold onto herself. Her parents, who aren't aware that their daughter has secret feelings for her friend, just watched them adorably.

Nayeon let go of Mina, scooping up her belongings as she walked to the door. Bye, Mina! Get well soon! "

"Bye, Nayeon. Thank you for taking care of me. "

"No problem; that's what friends do for each other, right?" Nayeon replied, prompting Mina's smile to fade.

"Ahh... yeah right.O-okay," Mina said, her real smile replaced with a fake one as she saw Nayeon leave their house and return to her own.

THE NEXT DAY

The game has just finished. Nayeon's team were declared the champions for this season's volleyball tournament. What's even more exciting to see for Mina is that Nayeon also won the award for Finals MVP.

Mina believes that her chanting for Nayeon was arguably the loudest she's ever been so far.

Mina was waiting in the main hall of the campus when she noticed Nayeon running towards her, wearing their customized championship shirt while her bottom was still from the uniform. Even though her hair looks messy from their team's celebration, she still looks beautiful and even sexier for her.

Now that she's seen her, it's finally time for her to execute her main agenda for tonight, which is to confess her love to Nayeon after she made up her mind thinking about it yesterday.

"MINA!!!!" she yelled her name so loudly that it echoed throughout the hall, causing some of the people around her to stare at them, but neither of them cared.

"HEYYYY CHAMP!!!", Mina caught Nayeon by hugging her too. "Congrats, you really did a great job there! You deserve to be the MVP indeed. "," she said after releasing Nayeon.

Nayeon denied it, maintaining her humble demeanor because she didn't want to take all the credit.

"Uhm, by the way, I just want to talk-," Mina was about to start when suddenly she heard the voice of a woman calling Nayeon from behind.

"NAYEONNIEEEE!" she exclaimed, sprinting towards Nayeon and hugging her from behind.Mina saw her face and definitely recognized who she was.

Her identity and the way she acts around Nayeon right now is enough for her to slowly feel her heart crumbling, impending to be broken in pieces.

"Oh, you're back. Did you excuse yourself already? " Nayeon asked, caressing the woman's hands wrapped around her stomach.

"Yuppp! They agreed. "," she nodded. She then raised her head and noticed Mina, who was just seriously standing in front of her and Nayeon. Oh, I'm so sorry. "I didn't know you were talking to somebody here," she apologetically said.

"Oh right, uhm, Sana, meet Mina... she's my friend and Mina I know you've seen Sana already, but let me introduce you again to her."," Nayeon said as her attention switched back to Mina again.

"Hi, I'm Minatozaki Sana." She smiled, offering her hand to Mina after releasing herself from Nayeon.

"Mina. Myoui Mina," she introduced herself again. Her lack of interest in getting to know her more was clearly visible on her face, but they couldn't read it.

"Was it true? You already saw me before? " Sana asked.

"Ahh yes, Nayeon showed me your picture and said proudly that... you're her crush." Mina gulped heavily at the last words.

"You're really head over heels for me do you, Nayeon?", Sana teasingly smirked at Nayeon who only replied with a sheepish nod.

"And you won't gonna believe this, Mina. Guess what...

... we're already a couple now!", Nayeon proudly announced it to Mina, unbeknownst to her that she effectively just shattered Mina's heart into tiny many pieces and blacked out her entire mood for today.

"Ahh... s-so... she's your girlfriend now?" Mina said, now only pretending in front of them two.

"Yeahhh!!! She just instantly answered me right after I did my speech there at the podium. "," she said and then wrapped her arm around Sana to pull her closer and kiss her directly on the lips.

Mina just witnessed her crush kiss the one she prefers to be with right in front of her very own eyes.

With that, all Mina wants to do now instead is go away from this and return to her home so that she can drown herself in complete pain, guilt, agony and shame.

"C-congratulations to both of you," Mina lifelessly said. "I-I must go now."

"Wait, Mina. Do you want to join us and celebrate? You'll go home alone if you do.", Nayeon asked.

"Nah. I'll pass.", Mina waved it off. "You two should have fun alone together now. I'll just call my classmate to pick me up here. "

"Alright then," Nayeon shrugged. "We'll get going now, Mina." she said. Mina just nodded back. Nayeon then hugged Mina one more time, although Mina didn't want it again because she didn't know how much longer she could contain herself from breaking down in her emotions. "Thank you again for coming. So much. You're the best friend ever!"

"Anything for you, Nay." Mina said. She already sniffed as a sign after Nayeon just gave a last damage by saying again that very irritating and frustrating word for Mina to hear, but thankfully the two still didn't notice it.

Bye, Mina! "Nice to meet you again!", Sana waved her hand goodbye to Mina.

"Bye. Mina waved back, only doing 3 sways before bringing her hand and arm back down as she watched Nayeon and Sana walking out of the building, away from her sigh. with their arms hooked together.

Right after they left, Mina quickly called her friend on her phone to request that they pick her up at the campus where she's studying. A Japanese woman with long hime-cut black hair exits her car minutes later; she ran towards Mina after seeing her slowly walk out.

"Mina! "Why did you ask me to come here- Oh!", she got taken aback when Mina swiftly hugged her tightly. Her concern increased as she felt her shoulder getting stained with wet from Mina's tears.

"H-hey... calm down. Why are you crying? She rejected you?", she asked while rubbing Mina's back gently to comfort her. She felt Mina's head move as she shook it.

"Then what?"

"Momoring, I'm too late now. Nayeon's already taken.", Mina said between her heavy breathing before she continued sobbing hard once again.

"Let's talk at the car about this.", the girl, whose name was revealed to be Momoring in her nickname-or simply Momo as her real name-said to Mina, and then she assisted her on their way inside her car.

2 WEEKS LATER

Mina and Nayeon attended the reunion of their school year's batch after it was announced and had them updated about it. They met their former classmates and some acquaintances from other sections at the party.

Nayeon was talking to her other fellow batchmates, Mina and Momo, who also studied at the same high school as Nayeon and Mina but from other sections, were talking together at their table when their topic quickly shifted to Nayeon as Mina had her eyes focused again on her.

"You're going to do it?" Momo asked. Mina just responded with a nod.

"Good luck then. You know that I will be here right away for you." Mina looked at Momo, who was giving her a supportive smile.

"Thanks, Momo." She nodded. She then stood up from her seat and walked towards Nayeon.

"Nayeon, can you join me for a walk around the school? I just want to do something rather than celebrate here.", Mina said.

"Oh yeah, sure. I'll join you. "," Nayeon accepted. She then excused herself away from the other batchmates and joined Mina to walk around the school together.

During their walk, they stopped by to see the familiar place where they used to study for 2 years.

"That's our classroom right there." Mina pointed at the second room across the first floor of this four-story building they were looking at. "I miss our high school days more. So many great memories we had. "

"Indeed, time flies, right?" Nayeon said. "Look at us now. We are already in college... things are getting different, it may be fun too but nothing compares to what we had here." They took a seat afterwards at one of the benches near the tree.

"As usual, to our favorite spot here in the school." Mina said before sitting down.

"I can't count how many times we used to sit here just you and I together.", Nayeon chuckled, patting and feeling the texture of this bench that holds a special place in their hearts.

"This is where we first met, remember?" Mina said, looking at Nayeon to her right.

"Yeah... I remember how I looked like a lost child as I asked your permission to sit beside you because I ran out of seat in recess.", Nayeon said as she got a flashback of herself holding her lunch approaching Mina who was silently reading a book to ask if she could sit with her. "Then you welcomed me just that easily."

"I was very kind to you back then because I've been there in your situation before."

"And for that, I am grateful." Nayeon said, placing her hand on her chest. "You never change, and I'm glad you do. Keep it like that, Mina. You'll attract the person you like in the future, like what you did to me before," Nayeon said. Mina's eyes widened and so did Nayeon's after she just realized what she said.

"God, sorry.", Nayeon covered her face with her large hands ans she shook her head in embarassment. "Ahhh I seriously remember that time too when I also confessed my feelings to you here.", Nayeon stated as that memory started playing again in her mind when Nayeon told Mina that she has a crush on her during their graduation practice but Mina rejected her instead because she liked somebody else before.

"Yes, I know it's cringy and-"

"I should've said yes to you."

Nayeon heard that. She slowly removed her hands away from her face. Furrowing her eyebrows, she looked at Mina who is now bowing her head low.

"Eh, what did you say?"

"Nayeon, are you happy with Sana?", she asked out of blue. Nayeon was confused and dumbfounded how the topic just changed in a snap and how does her current relationship status matters that much.

"I- I do. Honestly so far she's great.", she replied. "Makes my whole time admiring her and wanting her to be mine more worth it.", she smiled in relief.

"That's good.", Mina nodded slightly, a faint smile appeared. "Sorry, if I asked about it it's just...", Mina then paused, making Nayeon anticipatingly wait for her to know what was she's trying to tell.

"What is it, Mina?"

"I envy her.", she said, still unable to make eye contact with Nayeon.

"Why? Cmon, Mina. You're great too, you know. Look at her, she found someone that will love her for her personality and that's me. You'll be just like her too soon. Just wait and don't lose hope...", Nayeon got interrupted when Mina spoke once again.

"Tell me, how can I? How can I lose hope when I don't have it anymore. How... how can I wait if... it's already done?", she said. Few seconds later, Nayeon then heard some sniffling of tears on Mina, she went closer to her friend worriedly.

"Mina, are you okay?"

"Nayeon... I'm sorry."

"W-why are you apologizing?", Nayeon asked puzzledly. "Hey, what's with the tears? Did I do something wrong?", she frantically asked as she saw Mina now wiping off the tears in her eyes with her hand.

"N-no... no... you didn't. It's because... I'm just telling you right now how I actually feel for you like what you did to me too.

"I just realized these days that I fell in love for you, Nayeon.", Mina finally confessed, leaving Nayeon completely suprised.

Her eyes widened, brows raised, jaw dropped in shock as she found out that this woman right here beside her, the one she used to fall in love with before and the one she's been treating as a friend again despite hurting her heart badly, is now confessing her true feelings for her just now.

"But... Mina, you know I have a girlfriend now." Nayeon reminded her. "I have Sana with me. What's the point of this? "

"I know and please don't take this as my way to tear you both apart. "That's not my intention." Mina shook her head. "This all started when you... y-you shared to me about Sana. It pulled a trigger on my heart and mind to become fully clear about these strange feelings I'm having for you whenever we're together since we met again. "," Mina started explaining how she got it.

"It easily affects me more compared before on the way how you act sweet, caring and loving towards me because I have no one else to focus but you and I... was planning to confess yesterday but, it seems like Sana already blocked the way for me.", Mina added, crying harder as she rewinded to hear what happened two weeks ago that caused her to lose herself and gave her sleepless nights.

"Wait, that's what you're planning to do when we talked after the game?", Nayeon shockingly asked Mina. The latter just nodded, making Nayeon realize how it must've hurt insanely for Mina to witness her and Sana acting as lovers in front of her.

"Oh my god. I-I'm sorry, Mina.", she then went on to hug Mina from behind; her tears started to fall too as she can definitely feel how her friend is devastated right now because of her.

"Who are we kidding? Even if I were the first to tell you how I feel, you wouldn't return the same, do you? Your heart is choosing Sana now, and I'm just nothing but your tragic past, "Mina added. They both fell silent for a split second as only the sound of their cries could be heard around them.

"I'm very sorry, Mina," Nayeon said as she kissed her forehead and held her hands together.

"It's fine. I deserved it anyway," Mina said coldly. "Karma struck back and taught me a lesson for what I did to you, and now I'm here regretting what I did in the worst case scenario," she sighed heavily.

"I should've listened and gave my attention to you more than the one I've keep on fighting for not knowing I won't win at all.", she said, referring to her past crush that also ended up breaking Mina's heart when she just found out one day that Son Chaeyoung, the girl she was admiring at that time instead of Nayeon... was dating a girl named Kim Dahyun already.

"In that way... maybe... maybe I was the one experiencing what Sana's been having right now, and that is by how it is to have you as her lover.", Mina said with full regret. "I shouldn't have kept pushing you away if I'll just gonna end up coming back to you. ",

Nayeon then pulled Mina's head and placed it in her arms as she cuddled her poor friend and admirer in comfort. "Let it out, Mina. It's going to be okay. Please don't blame yourself too much, hmm? Love is really that unpredictable. You'll never know or tell when it comes and whether it will or not."

"You say it's karma, as if I was angry at you and I want you to have it just so you can feel what I felt when you rejected me, but no, I don't; I accepted the fact that I can't force you to love me because I respected your decision at the time."

"In fact, I'd like to apologize as well because I had no idea I was accidentally and unknowingly hurting you deep down because of my news about Sana and my new relationship."

"But Mina..." Nayeon paused for a while, catching Mina's gaze.

"Y-yeah?"

"I wish you were her as well; I really wanted to make you mine," Nayeon admitted, making Mina frown at the wasted opportunity.

"I still have you in my heart, Mina... but I'm not that same girl from before anymore who is able to catch you immediately when you fall.", Nayeon said, shaking her head. "But we can't do anything about it now. Who knows, maybe in the next lifetimes... it's you and I together.", she shrugged, looking back again at Mina who is hoping too that it would become real.

"For now, let's just be grateful that love taught us a lesson for each other that leads us on finding other person that will makes us feel special. Mine is Sana, and I hope you can get your own someday soon, Mina... who can do things that it'll make you feel that you're in the right hands.", she patted Mina's hand to signify what she meant.

Mina then moved her head forward slowly, directly through Nayeon, who is aware of what she's about to do but can't stop her body from avoiding it instead.

Mina gave Nayeon a kiss on the lips. It lasted a while, but just long enough for her to be satisfied, as she finished it by taking her lip away from Nayeon, who is still astonished by what Mina just did.

"So this is how it would've felt if I'd chosen you," Mina chuckled. "I can't believe I'm this foolish to lose something this good," she sighed.

"Are you going to be okay?" Nayeon simply asked, brushing some strands of hair away from Mina's face.

Mina nodded. "I will. For the better good. Atleast I'll remain by your side. Seeing you and Sana happy in your relationship together as she gives you the exact amount of love you're giving to her is enough for me to support you two to the fullest.", she lets out a smile, a proof that this moment they're having right now even if it hurts.. it's still effective for the both of them.

Nothing heals by going through pain first.

"That's right, and be certain that we will do the same for you once you get yours soon," Nayeon informed Mina, now smiling alongside her.

"Thank you, Nayeon for this. Seriously."

"Same as you too, Mina." Nayeon said, the two sealed their proper closure together with one last hug before cutting it out when they heard the host announce something to everyone.

" Oh, the fireworks display is about to be set off in less than a minute. C'mon, let's go there and watch it!", Nayeon stood up immediately and offered her hand for Mina to hold onto. She accepted, and the two ran together back to the main ground to join the rest.

After witnessing the fireworks show for 5 minutes, Nayeon resumed talking with some other fellow batchmates while Mina returned to her table where Momo is eating a plate of jokbal alone.

"How did it end up?", Momo asked.

"It turned out well. We are now both happy for each other.", Mina smiled in assurance.

"Don't worry, Mina. This isn't the end for you yet. You will be loved soon. Just open your heart and let yourself realize who may that be.", Momo gave her friend another advice to cheer her up.

"I will.", Mina nodded. Momo then gave her a plate of one of the foods she picked and Mina gratefully took it as she started eating too.

Unbeknownst to Mina, Momo was secretly looking at her, and a smile began to grow on her face as her heartbeat began to soar in sync with the joy and hope she was feeling.

"I guess this is my opportunity now," Momo said in her mind, smiling broadly at it.

-🐰🐧-

[josiebelladonna]

paraselenae | the royal shaft

pairing: eric peterson x louie clemente (blood & chocolate)

genre: erotica of the kinky caliber

fandoms: testament

*18+ only; minors dni*

Warnings: spontaneous sex

*Please note that you are responsible for your own media consumption. I came here to write and relax, not police you.*

Summary: eric and lou spending a day together

Word Count: 4165

note: aside from meaning "being snubbed by your best friend", the royal shaft is a geology term, referring to the main artery of a mine. so keep digging for that silver vein because you will find it~

“So, Alex got sick again?” 

“Apparently, he did. He's back home right now with a majorly upset tummy.” 

“There’s a part of me that wants to go on over there and rub his belly for him.” 

Lou burst out laughing at that. He and I had another day alone together, and a day where the sun was out for once, and thus, I could relax on the home cooking, anyway. He had come on over once Angie had left for work, and the two of us found quite a bit of time to ourselves, and as far as I knew, it would be for most of the morning, if not into lunchtime. He and I had left my apartment, and we made our way out to the grassy courtyard. The breeze fluttered our hair about our shoulders and the crowns of our heads. 

I put on my sunglasses and adjusted the lapels of my jacket; I glanced over at Lou and the mirrored lenses upon his face. He cracked me a smile, such that his face resembled the full moon at the zenith of the night sky on a clear wintry night. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. 

“We should just head on over there and pop in and surprise him,” he suggested to me. 

“Nah, I don’t really wanna do that,” I declared with a shake of my head. “Especially since we’d have to deal with his parents.” I paused for a second. “Have you met his parents?” 

“I haven’t, no,” he confessed. 

“They’re such nice people but just trust me when I say this, though—you don’t really want to pop in like that.” 

“Is it really that bad?” he asked me. 

“Nah, I wouldn’t say it’s bad,” I said with a shrug. “But it’s just—you don’t really wanna surprise them like that. Like there’s a reason why Alex’s dad has often referred to him as ‘meshuggah’ when he was growing up.” 

“Meh what?” 

“’Meshuggah.’ Crazy. You should hear him say it, though. ‘My kid’s meshuggah!’ I remember the first time Alex said that to me, we were both like, ‘that’d be a great name for a band.’” 

“It really would!” Lou laughed at that, and the two of us walked along the narrow walkway through the grassy courtyard towards the driveway of the apartment complex. I shuddered inside of my jacket as we reached the mailboxes, and we made our way towards the sidewalk at the street. A few cars whizzed past us, and Lou huddled closer to me with his shoulders knitted up closer to his ears. 

“Are you cold?” I asked him over the noise of the street. 

“I just got a chill,” he answered, and I peered up to the sky overhead. Not a single cloud to be found over our heads, and yet the slightest feeling of rain riddled in the air around us. It would be the last clear day before the next rainfall followed, and thus, the perfect day for the two of us. 

“When is the next round of rehearsals, by the way?” he asked me. 

“In about a week or so,” I replied as I tucked my hands into my jacket pockets. “I’m really feeling out this new album for us right at the moment, and so far, I've got about seven songs written out: the label wants us to have at least nine for a full album. Now that I think about it, I really hope Alex can recover and have a better feeling in his tummy soon enough. It'd be like having to recover our best player or our best fighter on the team.” 

“Yeah, for real! We need Alex’s sword and his magical powers as well.” 

“Have you seen that sword shop over by the harbor?” I asked him, and he shook his head. 

“C’mon, let’s go see if they’re open at all—if nothing else, we can just look at the swords in the window.” 

“Do a little window shoppin’,” Lou suggested, which in turn made me giggle. We walked together along the sidewalk, but every so often, he lingered behind me, and I peered over my shoulder at the sight of him. 

“Are you with me?” I asked him over the noise of the street. 

“Of course!” he declared. I shivered a little bit, and especially as we reached the next street corner and, once we glanced both ways, the two of us ran across the dark pavement side by side. 

Within time, we reached the cozy part of Berkeley, right under the guiding lights of Treasure Island and the spires of the bridge off in the distance. Somewhere along those streets was that sword shop in question: it was literally a place that specialized in swords and blades, and everything about it brought out the fantastical side of me. Ever since I was a kid, I loved all things fantasy, and especially anything that involved dragons and knights: it was in the cards for me to do something fantastical and big and powerful, whether it was to write a novel or do something on a musical level. 

In the first couple of times that I made my way into that little shop, that part of me was tickled to of great extent. I had to share it with someone, and I had to share it with someone whom I was very close with like Lou. 

We crossed the street again, and once again, he lingered right behind me. I peered over my shoulder at him and the thoughtful look on his face as he gazed across the street to the little bistros there. I figured that, while we were out and about, we could grab a bite to eat, and especially since I had just gotten paid by the label for the week. 

I reached the next corner first, and I craned my neck to refresh my memory as to where the shop was, especially when the bistros across the way gave way for a view of the harbor waters beyond there. I walked along the front of the hardware store, followed by an ATM, followed by an alleyway, and then a blank store front, a place without any markings whatsoever, a place that looked as though it had been cleaned out at some point. I peered beyond that to see everything else. I returned to the blank window before me as well as the dark inside there. 

The sword shop was gone. 

“Huh...” I closed my eyes and bowed my head. I clasped my hands to my eyes. “Huh... oh, god.” 

“Damn,” Lou remarked. 

“Jesus paint-huffing Christ,” I groaned out. “I swear to god, that place was only open for about a week!” 

“What happened?” he asked me, taken aback. 

“I don’t have any idea,” I replied with a shake of my head; a big truck whizzed past us, and we lunged for the front blank windows to save ourselves from the draft there. 

We glanced at one another with frowns on our faces. 

“Let’s have a milkshake, shall we?” he suggested to me. 

“You want a milkshake?” There was something oddly amusing about the way that he asked me that. But then again, I had the money, and all it took was a quick glimpse around the street before we crossed for one of the bistros there on the other side of the street. 

I took a chocolate shake, and he a peppermint one. 

We congregated outside there on the sidewalk and sipped on them together, and every so often, I peered up to the sky again in all of its rich royal blue color. I wondered as to where we would go from there, especially since the day was still young and we still had a lot in us to do more for ourselves. 

“I kind of want to walk on over to Alex’s house and give him something,” Lou confessed. 

“You know, I do, too,” I said to him after a sip of shake on my part. “What do we want to give him, though?” 

He sipped on his shake some more as well, and then he padded up the sidewalk to the place right next door from there. There was a display of all manner of Valentine’s Day gifts and things, even though it would be another month or so before we could even so much as think about that holiday. He sipped on his shake, and then, with his free hand, he picked up a little white and pink teddy bear from the shelf right in front of his face. 

“A little teddy bear,” Lou suggested as he showed it off to me: I smiled at the little pink heart embroidered right in the middle of its chest. 

“I’m sure he loves to cuddle,” I assured him. “Should we get him some flowers, too?” 

“You said he has a tummyache,” Lou pointed out with a little chuckle. “It’s not like he’s in a coma or has cancer, Eric.” 

“Yeah, but—I'm thinking about his mom, though,” I clarified. 

“Ohhh, I see,” he teased me, and I chuckled at that. 

“But yeah, let’s get him the teddy bear and we’ll look around for some flowers for his mother—I'm thinking since it’s the middle of the day, they probably aren’t home at the moment. So, we’ll surprise ‘em. You know—like I said, they’re nice people.” 

“Oh, yeah, for sure.” We sipped on our milkshakes some more as we made our way into there to pay for the teddy bear as well as a little bouquet of black-eyed Susans for Alex’s mother. 

If nothing else, it would give us an excuse to walk a fair distance from the harbor over to their neighborhood, especially with those milkshakes in our bellies on top of breakfast as well. I never really liked staying in one place after eating a great deal such as that: it was right then I understood Alex’s woes. 

We thanked the nice lady in there, and then we made our way back to the neighborhood in question. I was hoping that I was right in my assumption as we finished our shakes, and right on the money no less as we reached their neighborhood. When I made my way up to the house first, I realized that Lou was, once again, lingering behind me. I wondered as to why he was doing that as we reached their doorstep and I braved it with a knock on the front door panel right above the doorknob itself. 

We stood there in a brief moment of silence: I turned my attention back to Lou as he craned his neck for a view of the driveway. 

“Are they home at all?” he wondered aloud. 

“Is the car there?” I asked him. 

“No.” 

I knocked on the door again. We were once again met with silence: I turned my attention to the window next to me, where we were met with drawn blinds. I frowned at the sight of it, and yet, there was nothing we could do about it, however. 

I set the little bouquet of flowers on the narrow concrete doorstep and Lou followed it up with the little teddy bear. If nothing else, they would be home soon, or Alex would come out at some point. We padded off the doorstep together, and we returned to the street behind us: at that point, the sun hung high over heads, albeit at a slight angle, which told me it was after lunchtime, and yet I did not feel like eating at all. 

“There’s a part of me that wants us to head on down to the shoreline,” Lou suggested. 

“The shore by the bridge?” I clarified. 

“Yeah. It's been a while since we went over there.” 

“It really has,” I noted, and the two of us headed away from the house of Skolnick and back to the street there. A gust of a breeze shot shivers up my spine as we walked along the sidewalk together: Lou once again lingered back behind me as we headed out of the neighborhood and back towards the fringe part of the town itself as well as the road back towards the bridge over there across the water. The surface of the water itself chopped underneath the breeze: the sun was about to give itself away from us in no time, but we could walk along to the bridge with no problem. The spires of the bridge rose from the horizon before us: off to the right, I spotted the crown that was Treasure Island as well as that of Alcatraz off to the side. If only we had some more time to ourselves on the former in particular. If only Alex was feeling well and the three of us could do that over there. 

The road wound its way along the rim of the waters, and we reached the mouth of the bridge in no time. The wind from the ocean whistled through the cables over our heads as we turned our attention over to the pathway which led away from the road; down below, there was a bunch of large boulders that overlooked the cold waters, a cornucopia of stone for us to weave through for a time before the waves became too much for us to bear. 

Indeed, as soon as we reached the edge of the shores, a little wave of spray washed up onto my head and shoulders. I almost slipped on a smooth piece of stone embedded in the dark earth underneath my feet, and I clutched onto the crown of the boulder right next to me. 

“Easy there—!” Lou called out to me, and I returned to him with a sand dollar and a conch shell in hand. I had felt them there at the very top of the stone, and he cracked me a smile at the sight of them. 

“Consider these a token from me,” I told him, and he put his arms around me as a result. He kissed the side of my neck. 

We took a little walk around the rim of the waters, and then, after about an hour or so, we headed on back to the road, and then back to the apartment complex. We did so much walking, and it was right then, when the sun began to hang over the horizon behind us. 

We reached the front door, and I unlocked it for us. I hung up my coat on the hook. It was right then the thought that Lou lingered right behind us left my mind, and more so when I reached my bedroom to take off my shoes. I ran my fingers through my hair, and then, when I turned around, I spotted him there in the doorway. 

“What’re you thinking about?” I asked him as I headed over towards the door. 

“I want to have a moment with you,” he confessed to me as he set his hand up on the door, right up over my head. 

“A moment, like... how?” 

Lou moved in closer to my face, and he hooded his eyelids at me. 

“I have been in a mood since we left this place earlier,” he told me in a low, husky voice. 

“Is that why you kept walking behind me all day?” He smacked his lips at me, and then showed me his tongue. 

“Oh.” 

He held onto the button of my jeans and undid it with only his index and middle fingers as well as his thumb. I held my breath and locked eyes with him. 

It was all so on the spot, so right on the money. 

“OH—” 

His pressed his lips onto my own, and I pressed my back to the wall. I could feel my legs turn to jelly from the feeling of his skin, and I swore that I was about to fall down onto the floor with my back still to the wall all the while. But he kept me in an upright position, and then he reached his hands up to the wall over my head to steady himself before me. Nothing more than a few inches of clearance between the two of us. 

I jerked my head to the side for a look into his eyes and those parted lips before me. 

“What are you doing?” I demanded. 

“Going with the flow,” he told me in a low, husky voice. “Like how I always do.” 

“What do you mean?” I demanded again, and he lunged for my lips again. I swatted at him, but he pressed on. He pressed his body against my own, still with his hands on either side of my shoulders to steady the both of us. 

“What—What—Lou!” 

Before I could even so much as say another word to him, he kissed the side of my neck, which only made me feel weak at the knees once again. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, and I let out a soft moan from the back of my throat as he gently nibbled on the base of my neck, right above my collar bones. I relaxed every inch of me. 

If he was going to be spontaneous, then I should be as well. 

The very second that I thought about that, and the very second that I accepted that thought, he reached down into the front of my underwear with both hands, and he placed his hands onto my warm skin there. I held still as he fondled me with both hands, and there was a part of me that wanted him to do that Indian burn that we used to give one another in school. 

I gasped from the feeling as he peeled down my pants and revealed my bare cock and my thighs to him. He licked his lips and then he stooped down and held onto my dick with his lips. I closed my eyes as he sucked me off right then and there, right in my bedroom. I opened my mouth and let out a soft gasp as his tongue slithered around my bare skin and he scraped the edges of his teeth along the skin. My toes curled inside of my shoes as he sank them further into the taut skin. 

I gritted my teeth as he dragged his teeth down my skin, down towards the head. I wanted to tell him that it hurt, and yet there was something about the way of the pain, the way that it made my toes curl and a chill shoot up my spine, the way it made me writhe and breathe harder as if I was running at a stout clip at a particularly hearty length of distance. I curled my fingers into the wall behind me. 

My dick was wet, and it didn’t come just from the fact that he had his lips around it. I was on my way up, and yet I needed a bit of help from him, though. 

He kept his tongue at the side of the shaft, and he gave me another long, low lick before he stood up and dropped his jeans before me. I looked down at his bare dick, fully erect and ready to roll. There was a part of me that wanted to touch him and get him off right there, but he had this flame in his eye, though. He looked as though he was ready to give me another blowie with his full set of teeth, and deeper into the skin as well. 

“I want you to fuck me silly,” he whispered right into my face. 

“Do you have any lube?” I asked him. 

“Nope, but you do, though,” he pointed out, and I gasped at him. 

“No. Lou, no—” I beseeched to him. 

“It’s something, Eric,” he insisted with a shrug of his shoulders. “Do it. Use it as that—besides, it’s not like you can get me pregnant with a bit of cum, either.” 

I swallowed. He was right about that, but my guess was that it left my stomach churning a bit. But I had to man up for it, though: we were just two guys and there was only one way out of this, and there was only one thing for me to do, and that was take it as it came to me. I always did it with Alex, and thus, I could do it with Lou, especially when it rolled about at such a quick pace. 

He turned around and showed me his bare ass, smooth and shiny, just like his face, just like the full moon at the peak of the night sky. I pursed my lips, and I brought my gaze to my own dick and the layer of sheen on the head and shaft from his sucking on me as well as my own precum. 

“Hold me,” he told me in a low voice. I held him by the hips. I was firm and full between the legs. There was a part of me that wanted to take him over to the bed, but I was already there, with my back to the wall. 

I licked my lips, and without another moment of hesitation, I thrust into him. Because of the sheen on my own dick, I was able to slip it with ease. I bowed my head and thrust a few more times into him. He gasped from the feeling: it was so weird at first because I had never had thrust my dick into the backside of a boy whom I loved before in my life, but the more that I thrust into him, the more that I wanted to do it. A complete and total cycle: each one brought me closer and closer to an edge of sorts, and to a level of power that I only ever got whilst holding a big-ass sword right next to my head. 

A big-ass sword that was my head right into that tiny hole. 

I swore that Lou was about to fall ass over teakettle in front of me when he reached around and clasped onto my wrists. 

“What’re you doing?” I blurted out. 

“Spank me,” he declared, out of breath. 

“What!” 

“Spank me,” he commanded to me. “Spank me! Spank me, dammit! Spank me!” 

I swallowed, and then I took one hand off his hip and tapped the right side of his ass. 

“Harder,” he said. “C’mon, Eric, you can harder than that.” 

I tapped him harder, and he burst out laughing. 

“You call that a spank? Harder! Harder, Eric! Hit me like how I hit my drums!” 

I resisted the urge to laugh at that, and then I held my hand back out so far and I brought the hammer down on him. He let out a loud yelp, and then I followed it up with another one. 

“Yeah! Yes! That's it! That's it! Come to papa, baby!” 

I slapped him a few more times, and then I swapped hands. 

He let out a loud moan as I slapped him some more, and then I used both hands. 

“Part of me wants to get the pizza peel,” I confessed to him. 

“Make a pizza outta me? I don’t think so—AH!” 

That time around, I slapped him on the ass and then gave him another thrust at the same time. 

“Phew!” 

I did it again, and he gritted his teeth from the feeling. 

I did it a third time, that time with both hands, and he fell forward. I lunged down towards him and we both lay on the floor together, both of us out of breath and both of us with our pants down around our ankles. He reached up and clasped his hands to his forehead. I let out a low whistle: I was glad that I had taken off my jacket back outside of the room there because I could feel the sweat on the side of my neck as well as my face. 

“Damn,” I groaned out. 

“Yeah, that was—god, that was something,” he told me in a hoarse voice. I raised my head for a look down at his bare cock laying there as if he had just been through the rendezvous of his life. He had, and what better person than with his best friend. 

“What a day,” he groaned out, and he rolled his head over to me and let out a low whistle. I wondered if we could be able to tell Alex about this the next time that we saw him over dinner, be it there at my place, or with Lou and Angie, or anywhere else there in San Francisco. 

“What. A. Day.” I closed my eyes for a moment. I knew I couldn’t lay there for long enough because we had to have dinner at some point, especially with the sun setting. 

[ecstilson-blog]

Throughout my life, I’ve written letters, addressed them to God, and dropped them off at the post office. I did this when my first son died, when I got divorced, and when I finally attained my bachelor’s degree after being a single mom. I never included a return address or a clue to my identity. This was just my message in a bottle, so I felt like Heaven heard me…

Today, I thought about this at the pharmacy. Mike had tried getting my prescription, but there are national shortages on many medications—and mine are some of them. “They ran out,” Mike said, coming back to the car. “Sorry that took forever; there’s a huge line.”

“But… my oncologist called yesterday. They have just enough for 18 days.” And then I did something I rarely do in front of Mike; I cried.

We walked back into the pharmacy to see six people in line, and as we stood there, my right leg began to shake. “You should go sit down.”

“It’s okay,” I told Mike. “I don’t wanna miss when it’s our turn.” They hadn’t listened to him. Maybe they would listen to me.

At different points, each person in front of us glanced back. They all seemed around my age (40) or younger, healthy, probably doing some Christmas shopping. Then, I had the audacity to think, “Why don’t they offer to let us go ahead? Mike was just in here. And I can barely stand this long.”

One man in line called his mother and complained while we waited. “Hi, Mom.” He paused. “Yes. Just at the pharmacy. There’s a huge line.” Another pause as he glanced back, listening to her reply. “Right?! He said he can’t even face his friends unless he gets a new gaming system this year.” He exhaled with such force that I clocked it at 50 mph. “Oh! And you know I take Nicki on a shopping spree every year? It just never seems to be enough. I hate this time of year. Are all women that needy? No wonder men joke about marriage.”

Mike looked at me and smirked. I plastered a smile onto my face, but it felt subpar. I thought of this woman, “Nicki.” Meanwhile I’m just praying for another week, another day, another moment with my family.

After a bit longer, they called us up and my leg shook so badly that I held the counter in a death grip. “I have terminal cancer,” I said, my eyes pleading with the pharmacist and my knuckles turning Porcelain 10.

“It’s for Magagna, right?” He looked at Mike, remembering him from earlier.

“My oncologist called yesterday and said you have enough for 18 days,” I begged.

“But like I told your husband, we can’t fill this for the full 30 days. We don’t have enough for this prescription.”

“My doctors’ office is closed for the weekend, and I’ll be out of this tomorrow. If it’s not too much to ask, can I please have the 18 days?”

He typed something into the computer, and my breath stopped. He practically held my life in his hands. “This’ll take about 15 minutes. I’ll come get you when it’s ready? You can take a seat over there.”

I noticed then how stressed the pharmacist looked. “I’m sorry about the line,” I suddenly said. “This must be a stressful day for you too. Thank you for your help.”

His peered at me and Mike, his eyes widening with disbelief. “What you're both going through is so much worse. I’m sorry you have cancer.”

“Well, let’s just say I didn’t ask for it.” I tried to laugh, but it came out like a hiccup. Then I turned away.

Mike decided to shop for some ice melt, and as I walked toward the chairs, I fought falling into the throes of irony. A private corner seat, behind a display of reading glasses, seemed ideal. I felt secluded as I mulled my thoughts. Why had this hit me so hard? Then it came to me, the thing I’d said to the pharmacist: “Let’s just say I didn’t ask for it.”

One of the hardest things about cancer is knowing it can affect anyone. I’d gone from participating in marathons to barely being able to walk to my mailbox. I faced the pharmacy’s northwestern wall and tears flooded my cheeks. I have terminal cancer. And there’s no denying it. Every moment in pain is a reminder.

God, not this! Not here. Wiping my face with my scarf, I dug a medical bill from my purse and flipped it over. “Dear God,” I wrote, hoping to calm down.

Dear God,

I didn’t choose this situation, and right now that’s hard. I don’t want to have terminal cancer anymore. I want a day where I don’t feel sick at all. Even ONE day. Just to remember what that was like. I’ll appreciate it so much. God. I feel trapped in my own dying body.

I hate knowing that without certain medicine I’ll die. I hate that these are my fears while some man’s wife is upset that she won’t get as much STUFF as she did last Christmas. Seriously?! I need strength. Strength to stop judging people.

Strength to keep getting cancer treatments. Strength to not complain and let this turn me into a bitter person with a curdled soul. No one can uncurdle milk! (Well, I guess YOU can.) But anyway…

Another person called last week and said I should quit getting treatments because I don’t have a quality of life. I laughed at first, but on my hardest days, I remember their words and it’s hard to keep going.

God… I’m sorry to be so judgmental. I really am. I’m working on it.

AND… if it’s not too much to ask, can you please give me strength? I know you’re gettin’ a lot of requests though, so if you can’t, I understand.

-Elisa

—

At that moment, I glanced toward the counter and spotted a woman who looked 10,000 times worse than me. She’d lost her hair and probably weighed 100 pounds—even with her walker. She could barely walk and hunched so badly; I wanted to pick her up in my arms and hold her tight. Why hadn’t I looked back when I was in line? Why hadn’t I offered to trade HER places? Screw my aching hips and shaking leg. Why hadn’t “I” done more? Then the answer came: Because I was too wrapped up in my own problems. And that’s exactly why other people hadn’t offered to help me…

Woah. Mind blown…

I suddenly felt sympathy for the man whose family always wants more. I felt bad for his wife who doesn’t know what really matters. I felt even more compassion for the pharmacist who’d just been yelled at and wiped sweat from his brow. And I felt a bit of strength come with every second that I stopped focusing on myself.

“You wanted to swing by the post office?” Mike asked as we walked out of the store.

I looked at the letter I’d written on a medical bill. It simply had my first and last name above all of the numbers. For the first time, I’d broken my one rule: to never write a letter to God that included personal information. “No, it’s all right. We can just go straight home,” I said.

With one hand, I crumpled the bill and threw it into a big garbage can at the front of the store. God had already answered my prayer. He’d given me strength AND empathy. I guess He really can hear us anywhere, even in a pharmacy in southeastern Idaho. Plus, He didn’t charge for same-day delivery or anythin’.

For more posts like this, please follow my page at https://m.facebook.com/realecstilson .

[yafaemi-but-gone-fishing]

In the 5.3 ending Yshtola throws him a bag of cartridges. Im not sure how itll play in Trust dungeons in 6.0 however.

^^ 

Folks in the comments mentioned that, too. I really thought it was some kinda like, bag of gil for a bet. My brain went somewhere else there apparently. :P 

It’ll definitely be interesting to see how it goes with future trusts, though. Maybe it’ll be like SHB ones when Ryne’s not in the party? Apparently he doesn’t use cartridge abilities if you don’t have her with you or something. 

[themartiansdaughter]

Is This Your Dog?

Adrian Chase / Gen!Reader

Fluff

Warnings: Really none to speak of? Very small implication of a Bi!Reader if you squint.

Word Count: 2039

AN: This is based on a true story of how I found a dog after work today. So enjoy it. Or don’t, I’m not your mom.

It had been nearly a year since you moved into the Bridgeview Apartments in Evergreen, so you had begun to fall into a bit of a routine. You’d wake up, go to work, come home, stop by the mailboxes, read your mail in your car, then trudge up the stairs to your third floor apartment to make dinner, watch some TV, and go to bed to do it all over again. Besides your weekly Dungeons and Dragons game with the few coworkers you actually like, you mostly kept to yourself.

Today, you were sitting in your parked car blasting some Owl City and holding a save the date for your cousin’s wedding as you worked up the strength to tackle the stairs. Suddenly, there was a tap on your window. The sound made you jump out of your seat, unopened bills and jump mail flying out of your hands. And the culprit? That was a rather large dog.

The dog was standing on his hind legs, leaning his front paws on your window. You could see the blur of his wagging tail. He (you assumed) looked mutt-ish, but with a lot of German Shepherd. He had that coloring at least. He also had a color, and looked clean.

You tapped on the window, and the dog fell back onto all fours, which allowed you to open the door. The dog stuck his (you were sure he was a “he” now) head right into your lap and began to sniff. You gently began to scratch his head.

“Hello puppy,” you said, getting more comfortable in your petting. “Where is your person?”

The dog simply looked up at you with big eyes. You stopped petting for a moment to collect your scattered mail, but he bumped your hand with his cold nose until you resumed petting. You got a chance to look closer at the dog, he looked well cared for, with a clean soft coat. He had a collar, but no tags.

“Needy little guy aren’t you?” You laughed. “Come on, let's find your person.”

You gathered your things and began walking up to your apartment, the dog followed you like a duckling, which stole your heart. You fell in love instantly. You opened your door to drop off your things and the dog trotted right in like he owned the place. This made you think he belonged to someone in your complex. You put the mail and your bag down and looked up to see the dog sitting patiently by the fridge.

“There’s nothing in there for you,” you said. “There’s not even anything in there for me.” You walked to the closet to see if you could improv a leash with anything in there. You settled on pulling the belt out of your bathrobe and tying it around the dog’s collar. He sat still as you did so, tail wagging all the while. As soon as you were done he began to lick your face.

“Okay okay” you laughed, pushing him away gently as you did so. “Let’s find your person.”

You started with the apartment directly across from you. After quickly knocking on the door, you peered over the railing down at the parking lot below to see if you could see your neighbor’s car.

“Hello?” He asked when he opened the door. You had seen him coming and going over the past year, but this would be the first time you ever spoken to each other.

“Hi! Is this your dog?” You said with all of the chipper-ness you could muster. Your tall, thin neighbor broke into an ear-to-ear grin and fell to his knees, scratching the delighted dog behind his ears.

“Hello puppy!” He said, “Who’s a good girl?”

“Bork!” Replied the dog, licking the neighbor’s face.

“This is a boy dog,” you said.

“Sorry?” Your neighbor asked. You got a good look at his face from this angle, even with the dog determined to lick every centimeter of it. He had clear light skin, a sharp nose, big green eyes behind silver aviator glasses, and a mess of dark curly hair.

“This isn’t your dog, is it?” You said. Your neighbor shook his head.

“Sorry, no, I’ve never seen this dog before,” he said, looking a little sheepish, but never once pausing his hands working their way into the dog’s fur.

“Oh,” you said, “sorry to bother you. Come on boy, let’s go find your person.” You said as you stood.

“Wait, can I help?” The neighbor asked.

“Uh… yeah? I don’t see why not.” You said to him.

“Great! Let me get my shoes,” he said. He closed the door and emerged a few moments later with shoes and a hoodie on.

You don’t know exactly what compelled you to invite him along on the journey. You suspected that it was partly that the situation was already so weird, and partially because you always thought that your neighbor was a little cute. Regardless, the three of you set off down the stairs and knocked on your downstairs neighbors’ doors. No luck. No luck on the ground floor apartments either, so the pair of you walked to the next building in the complex.

“How did you know it was a boy dog?” The neighbor asked you.

“His penis was a bit of a hint,” You said dryly, causing your curly-haired traveling companion to bark out a laugh loud enough to make the dog jump.

“Some girls do have penises though, so how can you be sure?” He asked after he maintained his composure. You didn’t really know what to make of that.

“I’m Adrian, by the way,” the neighbor said. Offering his hand to shake. You smiled when you took it in the hand that wasn’t holding on to the dog’s impromptu leash, then you introduced yourself. Adrian repeated your name to himself, as if he was determined to remember it.

“What happened to your face, if you don’t mind me asking?” You prodded, gesturing to a band-aid on his forehead.

“Snowboarding accident,” he said quickly.

“You snowboard?” You asked him. Surprised for several reasons, least of all that it was currently April.

“Yeah,” he said, “that’s not weird.” He said. It was weird, but you could feel him getting defensive, so you dropped it.

“I like your pin,” he said, changing the subject with a gesture to your jacket. Your hand fluttered up to the pink, purple, and blue enamel D20 on your collar.

“Thanks!” You said, blushing slightly. “My DM gave it to me for my last birthday.”

“What do you play?” He asked.

“DnD 5E, mostly. But I’ve done some 3.5 and some Pathfinder,” you explained. He lit up like a Christmas tree, and it made your heart skip a beat. He had an incredible smile.

“Me too!” He said, excitedly. “I didn’t know girls played.”

“Well, we do,” you said, unsure how else to respond. You noticed he did that often, saying things so out of the blue you didn’t quite know what to make of it. It was charming, in a way.

“Not that like, you can’t, or anything, just, I’ve never played with a girl before.” He covered, some pink tinged his cheeks, which made you notice his freckles.

“Bork!” Called the dog, as if to remind you he was there. You scratched his ears and continued to knock on some neighbors’ doors. You got through the entire other building and still didn’t have any luck.

“This is getting tedious,” complained Adrian.

“You can go back home,” You offered. “He’s a really good dog, I think I can handle this.”

“No, I’m invested now.” He said.

“We can go to the animal hospital, see if he’s chipped?” You offered. The color left Adrian’s face.

“We can’t go to the animal hospital.” He said, a little too quickly.

“Why on earth not?” You asked.

“Because… My ex-girlfriend works there. She’s a nurse, a girl nurse, and she’d go ballistic if I showed my face in there.” He said.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you told him. “But fine, we can try the Shelter instead.”

You walked back to the parking lot and unlocked your car. Adrian opened your back seat’s door and the dog jumped right in.

“Are you sure this isn’t your dog?” He asked.

“I think I’d remember,” you said. Adrian followed your dog into the backseat and you made your way around to the driver’s side. You entered the Shelter into your GPS app and set off once the route was populated.

“Do you have any dogs?” Adrian asked you, holding the dog to keep him from jumping on you while you drove. You shook your head no.

“I want to, I love dogs. But I work full time and I don’t want to coop one up all day.” You explained. “What about you?” You asked.

“I never really had much interest in pets,” he explained. “Well, my first best friend has a bird, and the bird is my second best friend in the world. But this guy is making me want one.” The dog licked his face in response, skewing his classes which made you giggle. When you hit the main road and started speeding up, the dog started to whine.

“Shhh, it’s okay boy,” cooed Adrian, running his hand down the dog’s spine. Which, surpassingly, seemed to work. Something about watching him calm down the dog in your rear view mirror made you bite your lip.

After a short drive, you pulled into the Shelter’s parking lot. Adrian let himself out, holding the dog’s bathrobe leash, so you led the way into the building, holding the door for him. When you entered, you were immediately assaulted by the familiar scent of soiled puppy pads.

“Can I help you?” Asked the friendly-looking woman behind the counter.

“Hi!” You said, can you scan this dog for a chip?” You asked, stepping aside so she could get a better view of the animal.

“KODA!” She barked, causing the dog to tuck tail. “Where have you been?”

“You know this dog?” You asked. The counter lady nodded.

“He gets out ALL THE TIME,” she said. “Someone brings him in every other day.” She came around the counter to get a better look at the dog.

“Don’t get me wrong: he’s a real good boy and his owner is great, he just figured out how to get out of his yard and it’s been a nightmare these past couple weeks.” She explained. “Thanks so much for bringing him in. You can leave him here and we’ll ca—”

“—Hey, can I have a dog?” Blurted Adrian.

“You… Want to adopt a dog?” Asked the woman, and Adrian nodded excitedly.

“Yeah! Do you have any dogs?” He asked.

“I… do,” Asked the woman, “Want to meet some?” Adrian was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Adrian I’d hate to burst your bubble, but don’t you think this is pretty impulsive?” You asked, following him into the kennel.

“Yeah, maybe, but all of my best work is done when I’m impulsive, it’s how I met you.” He said. You felt the tips of your ears get hot.

“Do you even know anything about dogs?” You asked. He shook his head. “No, but you do, will you help me?” He asked. Something about his boldness was endearing, and you loved the opportunity to get to know him a little better.

“Yeah, sure, we can co-parent a dog,” You said. “Stranger things have happened.”

“How about this one?” Asked the employee. She stopped in front of a kennel. “He’s been here for about a month now. Mutt, but has some pit in him. He’s about a year and a half old. All his shots are in order, you could take him home today if you sign the paperwork and pay the fee.”

The dog, a medium-sized black pit bull with a white tummy and socks, practically leapt at Adrian the moment his cage was open, jumping blindly into his arms and licking his face.

“He’s perfect,” he told you.

“What are you gonna call him?” You asked, petting the dog’s head. Adrain thought about it for a moment. Then he lit up with an idea.

“Vigilante.”

[mianavs]

—Surrender

Hanma x reader, angst with a dash of fluff, hurt with comfort, mention of death

a/n: just a little something for Hanma's bday

wc: 1.3k+

tg: @tometpd

You hate the rain.

You hate the cold.

So when you get off from a twelve-hour shift at the hospital with aching muscles and the lingering smell of disinfectant only to step outside and find cold rain falling from the night sky, you want to collapse right there on the steps of the staff entrance and let the rain wash you away.

Away from your family’s debt

Away from your shitty job

Away from your miserable life

“See you tomorrow, Y/N?” A coworker of yours asks as they sidestep you and release their umbrella with a sigh. They turn to you when you don’t answer right away, capturing your attention and dispelling your wishful thoughts.

“Bright and early,” you reply, with what you hope is a grin instead of a grimace. “See ya.”

They offer you a worn-out smile of their own before setting off for the staff parking lot, rainwater splashing around them with each step. The rest of the maintenance staff files out of the building with umbrellas, coats, or hats, while you remain on the steps with neither of those things.

Having run out of bus fare, you’d planned on walking home, not expecting the late-fall rain. You check the weather report to see when the rain will stop only to read that it’ll continue late into the night. With a defeated sigh, you zip up your sweater and hold your lunch bag over your head before stepping out from under the entrance cover into the cold heavy rain.

You make it around the corner of the hospital when a tall dark figure emerges with an oversized umbrella and blocks your way. Even under the dim flickering street lights, you’re able to make out the worn-out hoodie, mop of long black and blonde hair, and the word ‘sin’ tattooed on the hand he’s holding the umbrella with.

“Tch, done lurking in the shadows?” You scoff, brushing past him to resume your trek home. Hanma says nothing but you hear him following you, the pitter-patter of the rain on his umbrella a dead giveaway. You try to lose him but he’s a giant and you’re no match for his long legs that reach you in no time, shielding you from the rain with his umbrella.

“I’ll walk you home.” He peers down at you. A ghost of a smile on his lips. “Wouldn’t want ya to get sick and miss work.”

He’s trying to be nice, per usual, but you’re exhausted and in no mood to pretend he isn’t the reason you have to work like a dog to survive. You shoot him a pointed look that’s akin to a punch in the face from the way his expression sobers up.

“And whose fault is it that I can’t afford to stay home sick?”

Hanma averts his eyes and says nothing. His ghostly smile is gone, and he hunches over even more from the weight of your words. You look away as well when your putrid anger disperses at the sight of his misery and guilt surges up, lodging itself in your throat. Rain beats down on Hanma’s umbrella and you resume your walk to your home with him stubbornly at your side.

Your relationship with Hanma hadn’t always been enveloped in resentment and guilt. Once upon a time, he’d been the attractive delinquent from your neighborhood that used to give you stolen candy from the convenience store and helped you escape from school to go to the arcade. Once upon a time, Hanma had been your friend and even something more when he stole your first kiss during your last year of middle school.

Then everything went to shit when he got involved in some shady dealings and a rival gang started tracking him down. Unfortunately for them, Hanma had always been good at hiding and managed to avoid them. Unfortunately for you, they tracked you down instead and took your parents’ lives, leaving you an orphan and with their debt.

That was how Hanma ruined your life. No matter how much he now protected you from his enemies, it didn’t change the fact that your parents were dead. No matter how many envelopes of petty change he slipped into your mailbox, it didn’t change the fact that you were in financial ruin.

And yet, no matter how many times you told him off when he approached you, it didn’t change the fact that you let him follow you, letting him in your tiny studio to shower, eat, and crash on your old couch.

Tonight is one of those times. After the rain and your exhaustion eat away at your guilt, you start complaining about your day to let off some steam. You tell him about your overbearing manager that never lets you clean in peace, the cranky old man that always complains about the smell of your cleaning supplies, and your two-faced coworkers that talk shit about each other and then act all buddy-buddy the following shift.

Hanma strictly listens and occasionally hums in agreement until you turn to him and ask, “what do you think?”

Then his eyes widen ever-so-slightly and he wets his lips before giving you the response you want to hear. The topic eventually changes during your walk and the two of you can pretend you’re kids again without any responsibilities and people hunting you down.

When you reach your door, Hanma’s grin fades away and he reverts back into the worn-down man with the disheveled hair and sunken eyes. He takes a step back as you fiddle with your keys and says ‘goodnight’ when you unlock your door.

“It’s late. You can crash here if you want.”

You don’t look at him when you utter those words. You merely walk inside and leave the door open, knowing he’ll come in and close it behind him.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” he says as you kick off your shoes and peel off your sweater. “It’ll be nice ending my birthday in a warm home.”

You freeze at that, dropping your wet sweater on the vinyl floor before meeting Hanma’s gaze. He grins but it doesn’t reach his melancholic eyes that shift to your couch. You realize it’s October 27th and your mind scrambles to find something to say. You open your mouth to offer him a meal only to realize you don’t have any ingredients nor do you have any money to buy some. Your gaze shifts around your barren studio for something, anything, you could give him but there’s nothing.

Just as he’s about to take a seat on your couch, you blurt something out.

“You can sleep with me!”

His head whips in your direction, his hood falling and revealing his shoulder-length hair. Hanma is rarely surprised but your outburst does just that; it surprises him and leaves him speechless. Embarrassment creeps up and you feel a furious flush spread from your cheeks to your neck and ears.

“I-I mean in my bed! You can sleep in my bed!” You sputter, crouching down to pick up your sweater to avoid making eye contact with him. “I have an electric heater so it’ll be warmer than sleeping on the couch. Of course, you don’t have to sleep with me… er I mean next to m–”

“I want to,” Hanma interjects and it’s your turn to whip your head to look at him. A tentative smile blooms on his face and it stirs something in your stomach. You swallow and make a beeline to your closet, dropping the damp sweater in your hamper and picking up a clean towel. Stepping away, you turn to Hanma and toss the towel at him.

“Shower first.” You say, crossing your arms across your chest. “No way I’m letting you in my bed all dirty. Even if it is your birthday.”

Hanma laughs at that and it’s not one of those restrained chuckles or stifled snorts he occasionally allows himself. It’s the old Hanma’s laugh that stems from his stomach and forces his entire mouth open while his shoulders shake. It makes him look his age instead of the haggard person he’s become. It causes your stomach to flutter the way it once did and makes you believe you can truly forgive Hanma one day in a not-so-distant future.

[bookishofalder]

Pretty Girl - Seven

Summary: In which Pretty Girl and Flip take things to the next level after dating 6 months. 

Warnings: Smut, language, talk of period sex, copious amounts of fluff. WC-5,507

A/N: Ah! I can’t believe this is the final chapter-just the epilogue to go now! Thanks so much for enjoying this story, it’s been wonderful to share. [Just to be clear, I’m a cis female and speak from experience in regards to the embarrassment that occurs around period sex. That scene is basically inspired by my own incredible husband. We celebrate menstruation on this blog!]

“I think we have to break up.”

A soft breeze blew in the window over the sink, the promise of summer in the air. He was wearing an old t-shirt and jeans and a frown that contrasted against the warmth in the air. Flip stared across the kitchen at (Y/N), eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Now why the hell is that, exactly?” He questioned, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms.  

She gestured at him wordlessly for a moment, then pointed her finger at him accusingly, “I just don’t see how we come back from something like this, Flip. I really don’t.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, darling, come on!” He pleaded, giving his head a shake in disbelief.

(Y/N) marched to the fridge and flung it open, her back to Flip for a minute as she dug out what she was looking for, then spun around to face him. She had a can of soda in each hand-one Coca-Cola, one Pepsi, her expression indignant.

“These. Are. Completely. Different.” The pucker between her brows appeared as her frown deepened upon seeing him begin to laugh. “Flip! They taste entirely different!”

“Darling, they really, really don’t. It’s all the same, sugar and carbonation. That’s it.”

Setting the pops down on the counter, she huffed stubbornly, mirroring his crossed arms pose and glaring at him. Flip pushed away from the counter, no longer able to resist her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed the top of her head as he let out a rumble of a laugh.

She was pointedly not hugging him back.

“I can tell the difference.”

Flip leaned back and met her gaze, “You want to bet on that, pretty girl?” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity at his suggestion.  

“Go on then.” She replied, grinning up at Flip.

Inwardly, though it had been a playful disagreement, he was happy to have her smiling again. Six months together and he still couldn’t stand to see her anything but happy, his daily mission to ensure she smiled and laughed more than anything else-something he was often successful at. He felt like he pulled in oxygen from her laughs and giggles.

“Hmm, well how about I pour each of them into a cup, and you don’t know which is which, and then you taste them and tell me which one is Coke.” He tucked some of her loose strands of hair over her shoulder, simply an excuse to touch her. He watched her consider the offer, warmth and affection shooting through him.

“That’s easy,” She replied with a nod, “And what does the winner get?”

“What do you want?”

He hadn’t meant for the words to come out as suggestive as they did, but (Y/N) simply rolled her eyes, giving him a playful wink. “Well, if I win...then I want to go to your place after lunch and purge your closet!”

Flip groaned, releasing his hold on her, though she remained leaned against him, to run his hands through his hair. “Of all the fucking things, darling!”

Giggling, (Y/N) reached up and stroked Flip’s jaw. “It needs to happen, detective. And since we’re both off this week, there’s never been a better time!”

Flip scoffed, “We’re off because we’re on vacation, pretty girl. Why the hell would I want to clean my damn closet on vacation?”

“Because you won’t do it any other time, you big grump,” Patting his cheek, she arched a brow at him, “Now, if you win?”

He considered for a moment. Initially, he was just going to use this as an excuse for spending the afternoon in bed with her. But now, high stakes were on the line and Flip wanted to match her offer. “Ah, I know,” He said with a grin, “If I win, you’ll let me take you to the gun range to train you on how to use my gun.”

With an exasperated sigh, (Y/N) stepped back from Flip, “Not this again, Flip, I don’t wan’-“

“It’s not about wanting, darling. It’s about safety around firearms, you should at least understand the basics of the one I have on me, just in case.” He reached out and cupped her soft cheeks, thumbs stroking gently. They often bickered about his insistence on keeping her safe, and this was a point of contention for them they had yet to work through.

“Uhg, fine!” She stuck her hand out, and Flip took it in his own to shake, sealing the deal. “I’m going to wander outside and check the mailbox while you pour, I guess.”

Spinning, she barely took a step before Flip smacked her affectionately on the behind, “Trust me, it’ll be fun at the gun range!” He joked, watching her retreating figure with admiration.

Without turning, (Y/N) continued toward the front door and called over her shoulder, “Funny, I was going to say the same about purging your closet, detective.”

With a bark of a laugh, Flip shook his head and turned to the soda’s, grabbing a couple of glasses and setting to his task. Noting which one was the Coke, Flip set them back on the counter and moved the cans to the table, where a delicious looking lunch spread was waiting for their argument to end.

It had begun innocently enough as they prepared lunch together in (Y/N)‘s comfortable kitchen, until he let slip that he didn’t see any difference in the two drinks and his girl lost her damn mind. 

Flip had to admit, in addition to being a wonderful baker, she was a talented cook as well. But years of living alone and not wanting to clog his arteries from eating out constantly led Flip to become a decent cook himself, and he insisted on sharing kitchen duties, regardless of whose home they were at. And so, most days they would find themselves in the kitchen together, cooking, baking and chatting. They tended to spend more time at (Y/N)’s place, for various reasons including the proximity to the station, the overall warmth of her home and her formidable bathtub. Flip was a big fan of ending their days with a long soak before bed, whether he stayed the night or not-though, he mostly stayed the night.

Reentering the kitchen, (Y/N) tossed the mail onto the counter and glanced around at Flip, eyes twinkling. “Ready?” Flip responded by gesturing a hand at the drinks, his eyes sliding down her figure when she turned to them, admiring her curves in the high waisted shorts and a black band tee.

“Go on then, impress me.” He rumbled, watching her closely.

With a smirk, she took a sip of the first drink, loudly and unnecessarily smacking her lips. Her intent was probably to be obnoxious, but Flip found himself becoming semi-hard at her performance, eyes on her plump lips. She set the drink down and picked up the second, already smiling, and took the sip.

“Easy, detective,” She bragged, setting the second glass back on the counter. She pointed to it, looked at Flip over her shoulder and proudly announced, “This is the Coke.”

Damn it, she was right.

He didn’t even need to reply, as the expression on his face gave him away, and (Y/N) let out a gleeful shout before bouncing over to Flip, standing on her tiptoes and throwing her arms around his neck. One hand splayed out and pressed, urging his head to lower and meet her lips. She tasted especially sweet from her taste test, but Flip didn’t return the kiss, though his hands did settle on her hips instinctively.

“Yeah, yeah, you won,” He conceded grumpily when she pulled away to peer at him with a smug little smirk.

“Oh, come on Flip,” She breathed, rolling her hips into his slightly, “I can feel how not annoyed you actually are.” Groaning at the sensation, Flip shook his head before pointing at the table, ignoring his arousal.

“Lunch, then we’re getting this purge over with, and then maybe I’ll consider this,” He slid his hand between their bodies and patted his erection. “Maybe, if you’re a good girl.”

Cheeks blazing at his words, (Y/N) simply nodded at Flip with a small grin and then pulled away from him, moving to the table.

They let lunch stretch along, not rushing as they enjoyed relaxing together. (Y/N) did spend most of it explaining how the process of this clean out would work. Flip just knew he was going to be bagging a lot of clothes for donation or garbage at her insistence because she was right that he hadn’t done a proper tidy out in years. He hadn’t seen the point.

Though now, unbeknownst to her, he did have an idea of why it might be good to do one-in addition to the joy she would gain from doing it, that is. He just needed to ask her.

All in good time, he thought.

+

Four hours later, four, and they were still working away and Flip was starting to lose his patience. (Y/N) held up an old plaid shirt that had some minor tears in it, her face scrunched, “Well, how about this one?” He wasn’t sure if he was bothered more by her endless enthusiasm and patience for him, or her determination to seemingly leave him with little remaining clothing.

“I don’t see why I can’t keep that. It’s good for yard work.”

“Flip,” She deadpanned, “It looks like a bear mauled you while you were wearing this, it’s not suitable for anything.”

With an annoyed huff, Flip wordlessly gestured at the ‘dispose of’ pile. He grabbed a large garbage bag to put that pile into, knowing it would do no good to argue. (Y/N) was smiling away as she hung up a section of shirts he was keeping, ordering them by colour which, he had to admit, was visually very pleasing. After stuffing the throwaways into the bag, Flip had cleared enough space on his bed to lay down, stretching out the wrong way across, his joints clicking in places.

Closing his eyes, he relaxed for a moment, content despite the loss of many, he felt, quality pieces of clothing. Though when (Y/N) had made the point that, due to his overall largeness, his clothing would most certainly benefit men at the shelter who normally couldn’t find donations in their size, he had relented on many items that he didn’t wear anymore.

When he felt a couple of pieces of clothing hit his legs, tossed somewhat carelessly by (Y/N), Flip’s eyes snapped open and he sat up in protest, “Now what are you-Oh.”

Oh.

The clothing had been hers, shorts and shirt on the ground at his feet, (Y/N) stood in a simple white cotton panty and bra combination that instantly had him growing hard. It never ceased to amaze and disarm him, how fucking beautiful she was. Glowing skin, soft curves, plump lips, she was devastating. He often wondered what he'd done to deserve her.

Six months together meant they’d been on plenty of outings, either errands or dates, and he’d see the way others would admire her. He always kept a hand on her lower back when they walked together, both to keep himself steady, and to remind others that she was his, and he was hers. And maybe to remind himself, as well.

“Christ, beautiful, you getting a little warm?” He growled out, unmoving on the edge of the bed. With a coy smile, she walked over to stand in front of Flip, eyes only looking down slightly into his. He’d discovered pretty early in their relationship that she found their size difference just as much of a turn-on as he did.

“A little...worked up,” She admitted, closing the gap between them. With practiced ease, Flip lifted (Y/N) into his lap, her legs straddling his. Her fingers sunk into his hair as he latched his mouth to the curve of her throat, kissing her, then dragging his tongue along her skin. With a moan, she ground her hips down, rolling her heat across his hardness. “Maybe a lot, actually.”

With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her and twisted, depositing (Y/N) on the bed before jumping up to rip off his clothing, eyes never leaving hers as he did. When he pulled down his boxers and he sprang free, her gaze lowered and she licked her lips in anticipation.

“Pretty girl,” He growled, crawling over her and caging her body beneath his, his length resting against her thigh. “Do you think you’ve been a good girl, that you deserve to be fucked?”

(Y/N) gave a keening whimper, struggling to wrap her legs around him. Flip didn’t let her, he braced one hand on the bed next to her head, the other he used to still her hips. He began his assault on her neck and chest then, licking, biting and laving his tongue over the skin to soothe it, leaving light marks just how she liked it.

“Please, I’ve been good, so good, it’s been days, I need you,” She breathed out desperately, writhing under him.

Flip snorted, “That’s your own fault, darling, we could have been doing it every day this past week-“

Still whimpering, (Y/N) cut him off, “No, I told you, I was on my period.”

“And I told you,” Flip pulled back and met her eyes, his expression serious, “Unless it hurts, I don’t care what’s going on down there, it’s natural and it doesn’t bother me.”

They’d had this conversation a few times before, as spending so much time staying over at one another’s meant that, eventually, he’d been with her while she was on her period. And Flip didn’t mind, didn't care, going so far as to call his mother and ask if women were okay to have sex in such a state. After she spent five minutes roaring with laughter, she assured him that yes, with certain precautions taken, and it wasn’t on the worst of cramping days, it was perfectly fine.

But (Y/N) had shut down each time, insisting a few days without sex wouldn’t hurt all the while appearing shy and embarrassed. He hated that she felt that way, but he didn’t pressure her. He simply reminded her it was on the table, whenever she might be ready.

“I know,” Her small hand moved to his cheek, caressing it, expression softening, “Perfect man.” And then her lips found his and the sweet moment was over because it was fierce and possessive and Flip could feel her trembling with anticipation, with need. For him.

With the countless amount of times they had come together, Flip still felt an intense sense of rightness, of home, whenever he was inside of (Y/N), pulling sounds and curses from her lips as he moved. Whether it was a quick and passionate release like this or a night of never-ending pleasure, each and every time was always perfect. Exhilarating. Because they were made for one another, and every kiss or moan or touch only proved it; it was easy, so fucking easy to sink into that feeling of perfection, of irrevocable love so intense it was like taking a hit of a drug every damn time.

“Love you,” He murmured into her hair, his hips pounding into her relentlessly as her legs only encouraged him, tight around his waist to urge him closer, deeper.

Her response was automatic, “Love you more, Flip.” And then she was jerking beneath him as she crashed over the waves of her release, crying out as her walls fluttered back-arching, fingers digging into his shoulders.

His own orgasm washed over him, a long, low moan rumbling out of him as he filled her, his movements slowing, sloppy as he coated her walls with rope after rope of cum. “Fuck!” He finally cried, pulling out to jerk himself a few more times, another few spurts coating her stomach.

With a groan, he flopped on the bed next to her, careful not to push the pile of donation clothing off. Lazily, he draped an arm across her torso, kissing her shoulder. They stayed silent for a short while, catching their breath in the glow of the afternoon sun. These were always his favourite moments; when it was just the two of them blissed out and tired and content.

“I think we should move in together.” He blurted out suddenly. Inwardly he smacked himself on the head for His callousness. He had been thinking about it for a while now and had planned many ways to say it.

But of course, he just spewed out his thoughts with wild abandon. Christ.

(Y/N)‘s head jerked off the bed, and she leaned on her elbow, looking down at FLip with wide eyes. “Wait, seriously?” She was giving him a cautious but promising smile. His heart was pounding in his chest, harder than it had been just ten minutes ago.

Flip nodded, “Yes, pretty girl, seriously. Been thinking it a while,” He sat up, crossing his legs before reaching down to stroke her hair, “We don’t have to if you’re not ready, but I wanted you to know that I’m ready. I hate spending nights without you or coming here to an empty house. I love waking up with you, hell, spending all my time with you.”

He wondered why he chose this exact moment to ask her, when he was naked, his cock softening from their romp, her stomach coated in his spill. It wasn’t exactly romantic, though it did manage to increase the vulnerability he was feeling.

“I, wow, Flip. I’d love that, I hate spending nights apart too. I sleep so much better with you keeping me warm,” (Y/N) giggled, then sat up and took his hands into hers, “There’s a lot to discuss before we make a decision, but I’m ready too, Flip.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his.

“Well, can I tell you what I was thinking, and then you can tell me if we’re on completely different pages?”

(Y/N) nodded, a smile splitting wide across her face upon hearing that he’d put so much thought into it. “Let’s hear it, detective.”

Flip grinned, “Well, I’ll be honest I like your place much more, not just for its proximity to the station. And I was thinking, I could rent out this place pretty easily, make some extra cash. Pay half the bills and whatnot at your place, and then maybe when we’re ready, we both sell and get a place a little bigger. Maybe something with a large backyard?” He’d meant to say less, but the more he spoke, the wider her smile grew, eyes sparkling in delight. A warmth was growing within him, spreading through his body. He felt almost giddy.

Instead of replying, (Y/N) launched herself into Flip’s arms, toppling them into the donation pile of clothing, and started peppering him with kisses.

"I'll take that as a yes?" He asked through his wide grin.

(Y/N) giggled, "Oh, detective, it's definitely a yes."

+

“Christ, it had to be the hottest day so far this year, didn’t it?” Flip grumbled, wiping his arms across his forehead and considering removing his shirt, though he wasn’t sure all of his latest love marks had healed up, so he kept it on begrudgingly.

(Y/N), as if knowing exactly when Flip would hit his limit in the heat, suddenly appeared at the propped open doorway, a large glass of lemonade in hand. John and Ron appeared behind her, following her outside with their own glasses. He watched, grateful for his sunglasses, as she walked toward him, hips swaying in her linen shorts, breasts curving beneath the thin white T-shirt she wore. Though she usually kept her hair down at home, it was too hot today and instead had it pulled into a high, messy ponytail.

Patting his arm comfortingly, she handed him a cold glass, “Here, take a minute, you guys are nearly finished.” And her eyes surveyed the remaining boxes, the armchair and the stereo system, all that was left of the items he’d brought from his old house.

“Thank you, pretty girl.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead before gulping down the lemonade like a dying man, already imagining the cold bath he’d be climbing into later on. Preferably with his new roommate.

“Bailey’s got burgers and beers ready in the back, so once you finish up you boys come through and have a rest, alright?” She smiled around at them, Ron and John both nodding eagerly, just as ready as Flip to be finished.

It only took twenty more minutes to get the rest inside, and Flip was impressed when he came through the door the last time and saw how neat everything was. Evidently, while they’d been hauling things inside, (Y/N) had made quick work of organizing anything she could lift. Even though Flip insisted she not do any of the hard work, he could tell by the number of missing boxes that she had carried a lot of them to the rooms they were meant for, getting a head start on the unpacking process.

When he followed his helpful friends outside, he found (Y/N) and Bailey laughing together on the back deck as they plated the burgers. Next to the grill, they had a table set up with all the fixings, including potato salad and, of course, more of (Y/N)‘s baking, this time in the form of mini sugared donuts.

Before he could make his way toward her, (Y/N) caught Flip’s eye and pointed at the lounger, a silent order to take a seat. With a grin he flopped down onto the seat, grateful to be off of his feet and out of the sun. Under the shade, it was much cooler, a soft breeze playing across his sweaty skin.

John walked up to his wife and kissed her on the cheek, thanking her for cooking for them. Ron had copied Flip, sitting in another lounger, his eyes closed. The atmosphere was relaxed, the best part of a busy moving day.

With a beer in one hand and a piled-up plate in the other, (Y/N) plopped herself into Flip’s lap and handed him his reward. With a grateful groan, he pulled the plate out of her hands and immediately started devouring the burger with one hand, the other snaking around her waist to hold her hip. She took a sip of his beer, watching him eat with a happy smile, her cheeks flushed from the heat.

“You two are such an affectionate couple,” Bailey pointed out with a smirk, “Even with a burger you find a way to cuddle, it’s almost annoying.”

The elder (Y/L/N) sister was, in many ways, opposite to (Y/N). She had a cooler, calmer personality, her humour more sarcastic and her gaze a little intimidating at times. Flip liked her, and her husband, quite a lot. They often had dinners together on Friday’s, and Flip had even taken John to the gun range a handful of times, discovering that despite (Y/N)‘s hatred of guns, John and Bailey were a little less wary of them.

“Nah, it’s groovy!” Ron amended with a grin, taking the plate Bailey was handing him with a grateful nod.

“I don’t know,” John said between bites of his food, pointing his burger between Flip and (Y/N), “I think of all the couples I know, you’d be the ones who’ve had sex on every surface and piece of furniture.” Ron and (Y/N) burst into laughter, Bailey shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

Flip flushed, his hand squeezing (Y/N)‘s waist, but made no reply beyond a slight grin. With a bark of warm laughter, John nodded his head, happy with himself.

The rest of that early summer afternoon was enjoyed in good company, the group casually conversing as they lounged in the shade, until the setting sun was low enough in the sky to capture their notice. They all pitched in on tidying up, bringing the leftovers inside while (Y/N) wrapped up a couple of donuts for Ron to take home. Congratulations and thank-yous were exchanged, along with heartfelt hugs and cheek kisses.  

And then, it was just Flip and (Y/N), waving goodbye from the front door with wide smiles; alone at last. His mind on drawing a cool bath, Flip was caught off guard when he was suddenly pushed against the wall, and (Y/N)'s lips were crashing into his.

Flip was never one to question these types of moments, instead, his hands found the curve of (Y/N)‘s hips, pulling her close as his tongue licked into her mouth, and a moan escaped them both. They stayed like this for a few minutes, making out as they clung to one another, until (Y/N) pulled back and smiled up at him with wide eyes.

“You don’t have to go back to your place tonight, right?”

Flip shook his head with a smile, “No, I’m meeting the new tenants there tomorrow afternoon.”

Her eyes darkened considerably at his response, pupils blown with desire. Flip’s hands tightened on her hips in anticipation, eager to hear her next words.

“In that case, wait out here for about three minutes and then meet me in the room, okay detective?” She murmured, then pulled away and danced off toward their bedroom.

Flip stayed against the wall, considering for a moment and then deciding to strip off his little remaining clothing. He heard the sounds of the tub being filled as he pulled his shirt over his head, and his cock twitched in anticipation. He then wandered into the kitchen, helped himself to a glass of water, and then figured it had probably been long enough.

Making his way down the hall, careful to skirt around a few boxes piled somewhat precariously, Flip felt an overwhelming sense of joy; the stressful work was over, and now he was living with his girl full time. If anyone had told him last year that he’d come back to work after that fucking Klan case and meet the love of his life, he’d have scoffed at them, convinced he was an unlovable son of a bitch.

And then (Y/N) came along and found her way into his heart, shattering every doubt he had of himself and somehow, amazingly, fell in love with him. He’d never been happier, a sentiment that he knew he thought almost too often, but if the other shoe was going to drop, it missed its chance. He even liked fighting with the woman, for Christ's sake. Though they didn’t argue much beyond occasional bickering, especially since she apparently had an unlimited supply of patience for his various sour moods, they did sometimes had what Flip considered a ‘blow out’.

After each one of these intense fights, they would somehow meet in the middle, always willing to compromise with one another no matter how passionately they’d been arguing. And then, the sex that would follow was always mind-blowing, fast and powerful, and selfish. They’d each work to bring themselves off, which was never the case otherwise, usually striving to bring as much pleasure to the other as they could.

But Flip had always heard that makeup sex was on another level.

He had known for a long time now that he wanted to marry her. They’d spoken of it a few times, casually, each sussing out the other’s reaction carefully. Flip had learned that she hadn’t ever wanted a big wedding, something her sister had wanted, which had solidified the decision in her mind that it wasn’t for her. This suited him just fine, as he wasn’t one for big parties and it meant he could invest more money in the ring, get her something she could be proud to wear.

But first, there was tonight.

When he walked into the master bath, completely naked and already mostly hard, his cock stiffened further at the sight in front of him. Of her.  

(Y/N) turned to face Flip, and though his eyes swept over her beautiful face, they didn’t linger as he took in the sight of her, standing wearing his favourite buffalo plaid shirt, unbuttoned with absolutely nothing else on. She’d taken her hair down, and it fell in waves around her shoulders, brushing against her stiff buds.

He couldn’t even form words, he was so turned on, seeing her wearing his clothes, standing ready for him to do whatever he wanted with her. He came undone entirely when, upon seeing his leaking, hard cock, she fucking whimpered.

With a growl, Flip closed the distance between them, swiftly lifting her onto the bathroom counter, which happened to leave her dripping heat at the perfect height for him to thrust forward, filling her in one motion. Fuck, she was tight around him, and so wet already.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” He groaned as she cried out his name repeatedly, “So fucking wet for me already.” He adjusted his arms, putting each under her legs so that she was pressed back and folded, exposing her enough to find an angle that tore screams of pleasure from her as he slammed his hips into her, splitting her open most satisfyingly.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s so good, so perfect Flip.” She whined, trying to keep herself steady on the counter as he absolutely ruined her with brutal thrust after thrust. He could hear himself growling and groaning out her name each time he pulled back, living for the way she screamed his when he would slam back in.

Keeping his arms hooked under her legs, Flip removed his hands from the counter and pressed them into her lower back under the shirt, both forcing her body a little closer and helping her to stay upright. He was impressed at her flexibility, though he checked her face as he moved, ensuring she was comfortable. The way her eyes rolled back told him everything he needed to know.

“You take my cock so well, you know that? Perfect little girl,” He broke off and moaned as he felt her walls tighten further around him as he spoke, her orgasm closing in. “Fuck, you love it when I tell you what a good girl you are, don’t you?”

Her mouth fell open for a moment before she could find the ability to speak, “I love it, I’m such a good girl for you, you fucking fill me so well, Flip,” (Y/N) whimpered out, her body beginning to tremble. “Fuck, I’m going to come!”

He increased his pace, her words bringing him closer to the edge, “Go on then, cum all over me, pretty little girl, and I’ll fill you up. Fucking give you all my cum.” He growled out, and her eyes rolled back again as her body seized up, her walls fluttering around him and her cries unintelligible. When Flip looked down at where their bodies connected, he saw just in time as her juices squirt out for him, splashing him in the warmth and fucking sending him barreling over the edge, his movements slowing as he pushed himself as deep as he could and releasing his cum into her.

It took several moments to come down from their high, the combination of the happy, emotional day, and the two days they hadn’t been able to have sex because of the busy work that was moving, made it so that their peaks were nearly debilitating. Flip could have sunk to the floor, he was so exhausted. Just able to remain standing, he instead slowly slipped himself out of (Y/N), both of them watching as their combined fluids seeped out of her deliciously. He was careful to let her legs down slowly, and she groaned in a little discomfort as he did.

“Bath time,” He whispered, helping her off the counter and to the toilet first. Once she finished, he stepped into the lukewarm water and helped her in after him, lowering them slowly until they could cuddle up, (Y/N) between his legs, her back on his chest. The water was a sweet relief to both the heat of the day and their sore muscles. They laid together for a long time; until the sun was gone and the twilight light was too dark for them to see anymore and sleep was a whisper away.

“You ready for a nice long sleep, detective?” (Y/N) asked him as they dried off, her eyes half-closed with exhaustion that he was certainly was mirrored on his face.

“In our bed, darling.” He replied, with a sly smile. She giggled happily, tossing her towel into the hamper.  

When they climbed into bed together, still naked, (Y/N) laid her head on Flip's chest. One hand trailed lazily along his flat stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“I love you so much, Flip Zimmerman.”

His heart stuttered. He brought the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her to tilt her face up, meeting her tired gaze. “I love you more, pretty girl.” And he leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a goodnight kiss.

Both of them fell asleep easily mere moments later, wrapped up in one another in all of the best ways.

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[waitimcomingtoo]

fine line - p.p

chapter 5

pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: there’s a fine line between love and hate and you and Peter dance it on a regular basis

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

Peter found you in the kitchen the next morning, smiling shyly you as he stood in the door. Unsure of how to interact after the night before, he kept his distance as to not overwhelm you. You nodded towards the empty seat next to you, and a relieved smile appeared on Peters face as he grabbed a cereal bowl and joined you at the table. You silently pushed the milk towards him, feeling your face heat up when his fingertips brushed yours.

“Thanks.” Peter said as he poured the milk into his bowl.

“You’re welcome.” You kept your eyes down, focused on your cereal as you raked your brain for something better to say.

“So, am I like your girlfriend now or-“

“I would like that very much.” Peter said quickly, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment at how desperate he sounded. You laughed at his eagerness, feeling inclined to lean in and kiss him right there at the kitchen table. He happily kissed you back as soon as he was able to stop smiling. You pulled away and rested your forehead against his, already enjoying this version of your relationship with him.

“I like you so much.” Peter mumbled, peering at your through his eyelashes.

“I like you too.” You giggled, still finding it funny to hear those words from your own mouth.

“Well, this is quite a turn of events.” Tony commented as he entered the room, making you and Peter jump apart.

“We were just-“ Peter began.

“Save it, skip. FRIDAY logged you going into my daughters room last night but never logged you going out. My guess was you snapped and killed each other or finally kissed and made up. I’m assuming it’s the latter, no?” Tony raised his eyebrows, asking a question he already knew the answer to.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Peter apologized. “All we did was talk and sleep. It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t need details.” Tony stuck out his tongue and gagged. “Just try not to break my daughters heart, yeah spiderling? Mark 45 is getting a bit rusty and would be more than happy to take you out.”

“I won’t, Mr. Stark.” Peter said confidently

“Good. Because if it came down to you or her, I’d pick my princess every time. No offense.” Tony waved his hand dismissively as a surprised smile crossed your face.

“Really?” You wondered after his recent actions implies the opposite.

“Oh, absolutely.” Tony said like it was obvious. “Peters great and all, but nobody compares to you. You are a Stark, after all. That means you’re predestined to be better than the rest.”

“Thanks, Daddy. It’s nice to hear that.” You grinned, his words meaning more to you than he knew.

“Don’t get too excited. You’ll be less happy to hear that we have to head to Florida tonight to check out some psychedelic weapons being sold. Should be a drag but that’s what we’re here for.” Tony pulled at his collar and grimaced.

“We?” You asked hesitantly. “As in me too?”

“Well Romeo here is great and all, stupendous really, but I’ve missed you by my side.” Tony said causally. “And also you don’t make the whole jet smell like axe body spray and Proactive.”

“It’s Clean and Clear, sir.” Peter corrected your father, retreating when Tony shot him a look.

“Well, you should pack. We leave after dinner. Plenty of time to say goodbye to lover boy.” Tony shrugged, making you and Peter flush. “Parting is such sweet sorrow and all that. See you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” You nodded eagerly as Peter squeezed your hand under the table.

Tony winked and knocked the table twice before exiting the kitchen.

“Did you say something to him?” You looked curiously at Peter once your dad was out of earshot. “It’s been over a month since he’s taken me on a mission. And I’m pretty sure I’m the least qualified person in this tower to recovery illegal weapons.”

“Would you be mad if I did?” Peter asked, scrunching his face nervously. You looked at Peter fondly before grabbing his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you.” You whispered as you rested your forehead against his once again. “Thanks for being patient with me.”

“You were worth waiting for.” Peter smiled softly as he tucked your hair behind your ear. “I still want you to clean up your cereal bowls though.”

“I’ll think about it.” You giggled, moving your spoon around in your cereal. “As long as you promise not to dip your fingers in my brownie batter.”

“Gross.” A voice came from in front of you, startling you and Peter. You looked up and saw Drax with a bowl of cereal in hand, staring directly at you and Peter.

“Drax?” You shrieked. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m visiting the city. I always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. It’s been a dream of mine since I was a child.” He deadpanned before slowly raising his spoon to his mouth.

“How long have you been there?” Peter stared at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t know.” Drax thought. “When did Iron Man come in?”

“A few minutes ago.” You shrugged, still staring at him in confusion.

“Long before that.” Drax concluded, making you and Peter look at each other.

“Oh my God.” You groaned.

“Could you give us a few minutes?” Peter asked with a fake smile.

“Okay.” Drax nodded and walked out of the room.

“So as I was-

“How many?” Drax popped back in and interrupted Peter.

“What?” Peter asked, growing annoyed.

“How many minutes do you need?” Drax wondered.

“A lot.” Peter stated through gritted teeth.

“All of them, if we’re honest.” You mumbled.

“Okay. Bye guys.” Drax waved and left the room again.

“Bye.” Peter grunted, rolling his eyes in disbelief. “Where were we? I forget.”

“I could try and remind you.” You smiled as you leaned in to kiss him. Right before your lips could touch, the doorbell rang. You hung your head in disappointment and sighed.

“Oh my God. What now?” You whined.

“I’ll get it. Stay here.” Peter rubbed your arm comfortingly and made his way to the door. Peter opened the door to find a clean cut brunette in a crisp button down.

“Hey.” The boy smiled. “FRIDAY let me up.”

“Oh, okay.” Peter nodded. “And you are?”

“Harry Osborn.” The boy said, making Peters heart stop. “You’re Peter right? Y/n has told me a thing or two about you. Is she here?”

“In the bathroom.” Peter fibbed. “Can I ask why you’re here?”

“We cut our date short last night so I thought I’d surprise her.” Harry replied.

“How nice. She’s gonna be really really surprised.” Peter began to sweat, not knowing how to deal with his new girlfriends almost boyfriend.

“Yeah. I’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend today.” Harry announced, making Peters heart stop. “I’ve waited too long, you know? And hot billionaires don’t fall into your lap everyday.”

“I don’t…” Peter trailed off, looking over his shoulder at you in the kitchen. You gave him a friendly wave, and he waved back before turning to Harry. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What? Why?” Harry sized Peter up, unhappy with his answer.

“Well, she came home really upset last night.” Peter began, which was partially true. “I don’t think she wants to see you anymore.”

“What?” Harry laughed in disbelief. “Did she tell you that?”

“Yeah. She told me.” Peter folded him arms, standing his ground.

“Why would she tell you that?” Harry cocked his head. “She hates you.”

“She doesn’t hate me.” Peter snapped, his jaw locking.

“Hate to break it to you, Dude, but she does. You’re all she talks about. Hang on, fantasy football.” Harry held up a finger as he checked his phone, putting it away after seemingly reading something he liked. “Anyway, she said you were the worst thing that ever happened to her.”

“Well that’s not what she thought last night.” The words left Peters mouth before he could think them through, but he didn’t mind the look it left on Harry’s face. Peter smirked as Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You two...”

“Yeah, we’re together.” Peter shrugged with his arms still folded. “Looks like you waited too long.”

“Wow. I guess there really is a fine line between love and hate.” Harry laughed bitterly, as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, she and I have built a permanent residence on that line.” Peter told him. “Sorry about it.”

“Alright. I better go then.” Hardy said coldly, burning holes in Peter with his eyes.

“Thanks for stopping by.” Peter smiled widely as he shut the door. He returned to you in the kitchen, guilt building up in the back of his mind.

“Who was that?” You asked from the kitchen sink as you rinsed your bowl. Peter smiled at you listening to what he asked you to do, but it quickly faded.

“Uhh, Mailman.” He lied to you, adverting his eyes as he leaned against the counter.

“Really? Why did he come to this floor?” You chuckled curiously as you put your bowl in the dishwasher. “He usually leaves it in the mailbox in the lobby.”

“Oh well he wanted to see the main floor.” Peter said weakly. “Can’t blame him, the interior decoration is really something to behold.”

“You’re acting funny. Do you feel okay?” You furrowed your eyebrows, pressing the back of your hand to Peters forehead to check his temperature.

“I’m fine. Just happy to be with you.” Peter shrugged as he held your hands in his, his conscience getting the better of him by the minute. You noticed the sweat building on his forehead and slowly let go of his hands.

“Peter, where’s the mail?”

“The what?” Peter wondered before he remembered. “Oh, there was none.”

“Who was at the door, Peter?” You asked suspiciously, your face hardening as you broke through his web of lies.

“Harry. But I got rid of him!” Peter said quickly when your face showed signs of anger.

“Got rid of him how?” You demanded.

“I told him we were together.” Peter said timidly, weary of how you’d react.

“What?” You exclaimed. “Peter!”

“Whats wrong? We are together.” He reminded you, getting the feeling you wanted to hide that fact.

“That doesn’t mean he needed to know that. And he definitely didn’t need to find out like this.” You crossed your arms. “That’s not fair to him. Do you know how heart broken I’d be if he did that to me?”

“You said the date was lame. And you have a boyfriend now, so who cares?” Peter shrugged dismissively, growing frustrated over you caring about Harry’s feelings.

“I do, Peter.” You raised your voice. “Yeah the date was lame but that doesn’t mean he deserves to be blown off. He’s a person with feelings. He deserved to hear it from me.”

“Apparently he’s heard a lot of things from you.” Peter matched your anger. “Like how much you hate me, for instance.”

“What are you talking about?” You shook your head in confusion.

“You told him I was the worst thing that ever happened to you. Is that true? That’s how you feel?” Peters voice wavered between angry and upset as his eyes desperately searched your face for answers.

“I used to feel like that, but not anymore.” You retorted. “You know how I feel about you now.”

“Do I? Because you seem awfully concerned over hurting Harry’s feelings. Do you still like him?” Peter demanded answers, a mixture of insecurity and jealousy eating away at him.

“No.” You shouted. “I just don’t want to hurt him.“

“You had no problem hurting me when I first moved in.” Peter said coldly.

“And I apologized for that. God, you’re so jealous.” You spat, rolling your eyes at Peter and turning away. He gripped your arm to make you face him again, not enough to hurt you but enough to keep you in place.

“I wouldn’t have to be jealous if you weren’t so indecisive.” He seethed.

“I did decide.” You stepped you to him. “I chose you. But you had no right to send Harry away like that and lie to me about it.”

“Like how you lied about hating me?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you know how it felt to hear him say that?”

“It’s a figure of speech.” You scoffed and yanked your arm out of his grip. “I never actually hated you. Do you have to knit pick everything you hear?”

“Apparently I do since you don’t know how to send a clear message to save your life.” He shouted. “You hate me, you love me, which is it?”

“I hate you!” You screamed, pointing a finger in his face.

“I hate you too!” He yelled back, stepping closer to you so your noses were touching. The fire in his eyes ignited one in your own, making you suck in a sharp breath.

“Good!” You barked.

“God, do you ever stop talking?” He gripped the counter angrily as he stared you down.

“Why don’t you make me stop talking?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“You are the most annoying girl I’ve ever met.” Peter growled as he towered over you.

“You’re no walk in the park either, Parker.” You hissed.

“My name is Peter.” He snarled, griping your hips. “Say it.”

“You wish.” You laughed shortly. That was all Peter needed you hear to push him over the edge. He grabbed your face and pressed a searing kiss to your lips. You clutched his shirt, gripping it firmly to keep him as close as possible as he trailed kisses down your neck.

“Peter.” You mumbled into his ear, making him chuckle when his plan worked.

“Fine line, huh?” He smirked as he held your chin between his fingers.

“Yep.” You laughed breathlessly and kissed him again. “The finest.”

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[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley Chapter 16

"But Suzuki-san was knocked out a bunch before this," said Ochako.

"I know," said One, still holding out the little packs of pills, "but apparently going to sleep is different from being knocked out."

"I think being drugged is a lot different from going to sleep, too," said Todoroki, taking one of the pill packs.

"I literally did not make the rules of this quirk." He turned his head to the side and started muttering about how Saito's quirk could have been used for good.

"How closely are you related to Midoriya, anyway?" asked Todoroki.

One startled. "Oh, uh, heh. You know. Enough for him to use the quirk?"

Wow. That was a suspicious answer.

"Are you Midoriya's father?" asked Todoroki.

"Todoroki, what--" started Iida.

"I have been dead for over a hundred years."

"That's not a no."

"Anyway," said Ochako, taking a sleeping pill from One but not opening it. "Are you sure, completely sure, you don't want our help? I mean, thinking about it, if you can get Izuku's quirk back from him like this, can’t he take your quirks, too?"

"Probably," agreed One, casually. "That's part of the reason we want you away from him." He mixed taking a pill. "We're also trying to make him think he can't. Or at least think that we think he can't. He's never had a very high opinion of our intelligence. And if he thinks that we think he can't, he'll never think that we're doing it."

Todoroki nodded along to this sagely.

"There’s also the possibility that he won't be able to - there are significant differences between my quirk and his. He can't do a passive DNA read, for example. That and the remnants of Izuku's quirk are the main reasons we think this will work, after all."

The world trembled slightly, then shook, as if an earthquake had just happened.

"He could take our mental selves, though," continued One. "Whether or not he'd keep them once this quirk wears off is something I'd rather not know… Although it'd be interesting to see if he could take the DNA aspect of a quirk that doesn't have a corresponding mental component present, since that's what actually trips him up when he tries to take One for All - he can't take the mental aspect, so his quirk aborts the sequence."

The ground shook again, harder.

"But that's honestly academic. You see, being dead can get boring, so we've spent a lot of time running war games and fighting each other."

This time, the shaking knocked all of them but One to their knees.

"Please take the pills? Now? We're really going to be fine."

A rocket screamed in the distance, followed by an explosion.

"This doesn't have opiates in it, does it?" asked Iida.

"Nothing here is real, so, no."

.

Ochako startled awake and immediately clutched at her head. That was one heck of a headache. Driven by the need to see where she was, she peeled open her eyes.

This was… the infirmary at UA?

How'd she get here?

"Oi! Granny! Cheeks is awake!"

That was Bakugo. There was something she wanted to do regarding Bakugo. What was it again?

"Don’t shout! This is a place of quiet and healing."

"I wanna know what fffffffffrick happened to shhhhtupid Deku."

Oh. She remembered now.

"As do we all, but you shouldn't crowd someone coming out of a mental quirk like that, it could be--"

No time like the present, decided Ochako.

She snapped into a sitting position, and punched Bakugo in the face.

"Ow! Mother--!"

Recovery Girl sighed. "Dangerous. Uraraka, how are you feeling?"

.

"I'm telling you," said Suzuki, propped up in the hospital bed, "there's a whole cabal of them, telepathically linked to each other and to All for One." He swatted away the nurse's hand. "Some of them are old heroes, too. They must have gone over to him for longevity quirks or something. They were- they were joking with each other about how to kill me. That's why I had to bail out."

"I believe you," said the commission president solemnly. “We have come across some evidence of our own that puts yours into a much more… credible light than it would be otherwise. Could you identify them, the other members of this ‘cabal?’”

“Some of them,” said Suzuki, doubtfully. “But others I didn’t recognize, or see for very long.” He shuddered. “Some of them… Some of them I would very much like to be mistaken about, sir.”

“The ones you are sure of?” prompted the president.

“Skyrunner,” said Suzuki, looking pale. “We should investigate her associates, as well,” he added, as if the president was unfit for his job. “There was another… I only know him from pictures, but I’m sure it was Fidelity.”

The president let neither his annoyance at Suzuki nor the familiarity of the two names distract him. “And how did Aizawa Shouta interact with them?”

Suzuki sniffled. “He sided with them. They all tried to put up a show when I was watching, but they never attacked him like they attacked me. That woman… she kept dropping me…” He knotted his fingers in his hair.

“What about All Might?”

“I’m… not sure. There was an image of him there, but he didn’t speak, not like the others. I couldn’t… couldn’t say if he was involved like they were.”

Not the conclusive report he’d been hoping for, then, but it confirmed that Midoriya Izuku was indeed in league with All for One.

… and also that he was providing All for One with at least one link with the outside world.

If Skyrunner and the others truly were alive, that meant that he had even more.

If. If they were alive. Even for a man of All for One’s talents, he had doubts about his ability to locate so many longevity quirks. The nomu with their duplicated quirks seemed to be a recent development. Then, too, there was the matter of Midoriya’s blood sample. Skyrunner and Fidelity were both on the list of people whose DNA had been mingled with his.

“There was also…” said Suzuki. He swallowed. “There was also… Tempest. She looked just like the old posters.”

Another name from the lists. The president closed his eyes briefly and pulled out his phone, going to the pictures he had saved of the hero Lariat and the vigilante Forewarning. Lariat’s photo was obviously better, having been an official picture for the purposes of identification. Forewarning’s was blurry and at an awkward angle, but given what he’d been - and who he served - it was only to be expected.

He showed the phone to Suzuki.

“These two?”

Suzuki stared. “Yes,” he said. “How did you know?”

“As I said,” replied the president, “we’ve gathered some of our own evidence while you’ve been asleep.” He put his phone away. “I expect a more thorough, formal report of what you discovered in Midoriya’s mind by the end of the day.”

“Of course, sir,” said Suzuki.

The president nodded, and with no more farewell than that, left.

As soon as he was alone, his phone was in his hand again. “I need an emergency exhumation order for the heroes Lariat, Fidelity, and Skyrunner.”

.

Aizawa stepped into the lobby of the apartment building. It seemed normal enough, even if the finishings were incredibly old-fashioned and its emptiness gave it a disturbing quality. The overhead lights buzzed. The wallpaper peeled. The air smelled faintly of ammonia. The paint on the receptionist’s desk had flaked off in places. There was gum matted in the carpet.

It was a normal apartment building. Not a nice one.

Aizawa walked cautiously to the desk, and peered at the mailboxes behind it. He picked out the name ‘Shigaraki’ in the third row, and made note of the apartment number.

The elevator, predictably, was out of order, not that it particularly mattered to Aizawa. He wouldn’t have trusted it to bring him to his destination, regardless. He barely trusted the stairs for that, after how many times this dream world had changed under his feet.

He reached the third floor without incident, and found the Shigaraki apartment. The door was locked, but Aizawa always carried a set of lockpicks with him, something that was as true here as in the real world. He made short work of it.

The apartment was… normal. Chaotic. Not very clean. Several sets of shoes, various sizes, littered the entryway. Medical bills and homework covered the kitchen table, more than a few letters on the floor. Bowls were stacked next to the sink. One of the rooms didn’t have a door, but a curtain. There were scorch marks on the walls.

Aizawa took a deep breath, and stepped into the apartment.

At first, nothing changed. Then, the light streaming past the curtains dimmed, natural light becoming weak, flickering sodium-yellow, and the dusty silence of an abandoned place was replaced with something that was almost like city nightlife.

Almost. There was something badly off about it. More than something… Too much anger. Not a single happy voice. Too many crashes and bangs. But… also not enough. Not enough for a riot or a protest. No motors, either. No cars.

He made his way to the window and looked out. There were people there. Crowds, even. People raging. People despairing. There were people tearing at the buildings, attacking their surroundings and one another, but many simply laid on the ground. Others… others seemed to be hunting. Looking for something, armed with makeshift weaponry.

Red lightning split the sky above them. Someone wailed, and the hunting party changed direction, going to where the lightning had struck.

Aizawa had seen the footage from Kamino, the way lightning had sparked, jagged, around the villain’s arms. He didn’t know what that lightning meant here, but he didn’t intend to get close enough to find out.

But he did have to go out, to find Midoriya’s quirk, or the representation of it. Wherever it was, it wasn’t in this apartment.

Probably.

Just to be sure, he threw open the doors and cabinets, searching and not finding. However, the apartment really was as empty of people as it seemed. Part of Aizawa itched to investigate this place more, this place where All for One was allegedly raised.

He left the apartment, making his way quickly down the stairs. In the real world, he would have most likely left through the window, jumping down to quell the near-riot happening below, to pull aside some of the younger people he had seen. But none of the people below were real, and he needed to lay low, stay inconspicuous.

Walking through Midoriya’s and the others’ minds, he and his students had always been noticed immediately. The ‘vestiges’ were distracting All for One, but Aizawa didn’t want to push his luck.

He walked out into the dim street, keeping close to the walls of buildings for whatever little cover they provided. The air tasted… oddly sterile.

The ‘people’ here were most likely stolen quirks, not memories. Would Midoriya’s be out in this? Or hidden away? How big was All for One’s mental landscape? The man was more than a century old.

If the quirk acted like the child it had belonged to… most likely it would go somewhere familiar. Midoriya’s apartment, maybe? Had he lived there, back then?

It was, unfortunately, his only lead.

(He did not think highly of his chances at success.)

“Eraserhead?”

The call was hissed, hushed and disbelieving. Aizawa half-turned, thinning his profile to provide a smaller target, his hands on his capture weapon.

Then he hesitated.

“Ragdoll?”

She blinked rapidly at him, eyes tearing up. “He got you, too, Eraser?”

Aizawa took in the brightly-colored hero costume and the ever so slightly off way she held herself. “You… aren’t really Shiretoko Tomoko, are you?” He knew that, or should have known that, but it was very different to see someone he knew… the quirk of someone he knew… here.

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, face still twisted in upset and grief. “Just like you aren’t really…” Her eyes widened, and she pushed him into a nearby alleyway. He let her, barely resisting the urge to throw her off and double-guessing that decision. “You are the real Eraserhead,” she whispered, urgently. “The real Aizawa Shouta.”

To trust or not to trust… She’d know more than Aizawa about this place and where Midoriya’s quirk might be, but she was also compromised simply by the situation she was in and what she was. He didn’t know how much control All for One had over her, nor how similar she was to the real Ragdoll.

“Why are you here? How are you here?” Her words carried an edge of desperation. “You can’t be here. This is hell.”

“It’s a quirk. I’m looking for someone,” said Aizawa, making a snap decision. “A child.”

“One of your students?”

“Younger,” said Aizawa. “About five.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down as much as I’d like,” admitted not-Ragdoll.

“A boy,” said Aizawa. “Curly green hair. Probably small for his age.”

She blinked again, eyelashes fluttering. “Green hair? Like Midoriya?”

“You remember him?”

“It would be hard to forget the student Kota punched in the…'' she trailed off with a grimace. “Is he alright? Kota?”

“He’s fine. And… you’re fine, as well. Alive, I mean.”

“That’s not really…” She chewed her lower lip. “Call me Search. Midoriya, is he…?”

“He’s… The situation is complicated.”

Ragdoll-- Search nodded. “I haven’t seen anyone that looks like that,” she said. “But I’m not the only hero-- The only hero’s quirk here.” She stepped out of the alley. “Let me show you.”

This felt like a trap.

He didn’t have any better leads.

He followed.

.

Kazuki had never been strong. As a child, he’d been sickly, and he’d grown into a sickly adult. Allergies and autoimmune disorders had plagued him growing up, as well as common viruses made near-fatal by his adverse reactions to vaccines and already-compromised immune system. Then, as a teen, he’d been diagnosed with a cellular degeneration disorder that had sprung up at about the same time as meta abilities. A disorder that, if Nine was any indicator, had never been cured.

Then his brother had given him the stockpile. And that had…

Well. It had hurt, at first. It had left him sicker than ever, confused and possibly a little delirious as his own power sheered away the ghost of a half-brother he’d never met into near-nothingness, as instincts and senses he’d only been peripherally aware of opened up, angry and inflamed by the violation.

(He wondered, now, if One for All might have manifested very differently if the stockpile hadn’t been forced on him. If the reason Izuku was drawing out the quirks of his predecessors wasn’t because of the mechanical remnants of his original quirk, but because One for All itself had finally settled into equilibrium with the stockpile.)

But. He’d had the stockpile. He’d had that well of power, shallow as it had been back then. at the beginning.

Kazuki still wasn’t strong. Never, in his entire life, from birth to death, had he been strong.

But it was a fact that, for as long as the strong and the weak had existed among men, so had equalizing devices.

Kazuki could lean on a cane. He could also beat someone to death with one. At least, when he’d been alive.

He’d done some staffwork, too, when he’d been alive. The weapon wasn’t as inconspicuous in the modern world as it had been in the past, but it had reach and versatility. Also, many cleaning implements, garden tools, and lengths of pipe could be used as a staff in a pinch.

But his favorite weapon was the sword.

(Kazuki had excelled above his older brother in only four areas: morality, med school, finishing books, and kendo.)

Force multipliers, one friend in the underground had called Kazuki’s weapons. Specialized levers.

Someone, a westerner, Kazuki thought, had once said that you could move the world with a long enough lever. Kazuki couldn’t claim to have done that, he couldn’t even move his brother, but weapons had made his use of One for All much more efficient.

Much more deadly, in some cases.

Unfortunately, his blade failed to cleave off his brother’s insufferably smug face, steel skittering off his brother’s quirk-enhanced hand. Kazuki dove past him, tumbled, making sure to keep the cutting edge of his sword pointed away from himself, and rolled smoothly to his feet, the phantom buzz of One for All under his skin making him much more coordinated than he otherwise would have been.

Daigoro and Rokuya had already engaged his brother. Ryuji was circling, unnoticeable, waiting for an opening. Miranda had summoned a dense fog that crackled with lightning (incidentally not something she’d commonly been able to do in life - for most of her feats, the prevailing weather conditions had to be just right first). Nana was minding the environment, for the moment, making sure it suited them and hindered their opponent. Although, she’d attempted a few several-story axe-kicks, when she saw the opportunity.

As for their youngest two members…

“I hadn’t expected you to let Midoriya Izuku fight,” said All for One, as if everyone involved wasn’t completely, brutally aware that he was Izuku’s father, “but I really expected more action from All Might. Are you afraid I’ll do to your mind what I did to your body?”

“Shut up!” shouted Izuku. “Leave him alone! He’s driving!”

“He’s wha--?”

Rokuya and Miranda both took All for One’s distraction as an opening to hit him with electrical attacks. Rokuya laughed wildly. “Tase him again, senpai!”

Kazuki adjusted his grip on the police stun baton he found in his hand (he’d stolen one, once, and kept it for a week before realizing it was GPS enabled) and smiled. A request like that from his successor? How could he refuse?

.

Vlad’s car, ever so gently, rolled to a stop. Toshinori cursed vigorously, though not particularly creatively, and winced. There wasn’t anything he could do about a empty fuel tank. Swearing at it wasn’t going to fill it up.

Once met someone with a quirk like…

Toshinori squeezed his eyes shut and let the foreign memory roll over him. Focus on positives. They were much closer to the Wild Wild Pussycats’ compound, almost to the cliffside that Izuku and his classmates had been tipped off of by Pixie Bob, and… Toshinori had to let that memory flicker and pass as well.

He pulled first their supplies, then Izuku, from the car, wanting to keep his student in the warmth provided by the barely-functional heating system for as long as possible. On a whim, he took the emergency supplies Vlad had stored in his car as well.

Perhaps taking things from his fellow teacher should have twinged his conscience more than stealing from villains, but, well. Vlad would have more loss to worry about than a small first aid kit, emergency foil blankets, and road flares. Toshinori had originally intended to return the car, or at least leave it somewhere Vlad could find, but his plans had changed.

The car might not be next to the cliff Izuku and his classmates had fallen from at the beginning of their summer camp experience, but it was next to a cliff.

He made sure the wheel was turned in the right direction, got behind the car and pushed. It took longer than he would have liked to get to the cliffside, but once he did, momentum and gravity took care of the rest.

The result was loud enough to jostle Izuku from his state of not-quite-sleep and left a fair amount of car-related debris on the side of the cliff, but the car itself was obscured quite nicely by the pine trees below.

He walked, slowly, back to Izuku, who had struggled into a sitting position, and was now contemplating standing.

“Don’t,” said Toshinori, softly. “I’ll carry you.”

“But,” said Izuku, looking at him with worry. He swallows, licking split lips. “You’re really not in better shape than I am.”

“You’re keeping us hidden,” said Toshinori. “I’m not.”

Izuku sagged, defeated. “Okay,” he said, softly.

.

“I was on my way when I found you,” said Search, leading Aizawa forward. “He knows everywhere here, he is everywhere here, and a lot of the quirks here belonged to his followers, or to people who were his enemies but were just as bad as he was… We have to move where we meet.”

“And who is ‘we’ in this situation?” asked Aizawa.

There was a lull in the conversation as they pressed themselves to a wall to let a large group go by.

“Other heroes,” said Search, quietly, once they were more or less alone again. “Rather, their quirks.” She looked up at him. “We might not be them, but we refuse to let him change us, destroy more of what we are.” Something more… natural, for lack of a better term, bled into her bearing.

It was then that it struck Aizawa, what had been bothering him about all the ‘people’ here. None of them moved like they were alive. Not even the vestiges in Midoriya’s mind felt so dead.

Aizawa was standing in a world of ghosts.

He forced himself to nod at her, this specter wearing his colleague’s face and memories. If what she said was true, then she was, indeed, pursuing a noble cause.

She led him to what looked like an average, middle-class hotel, except that it was painted with bright, red graffiti accusing the owners of being ‘mutants.’ They entered through a side door, and went down into a basement filled with washing and drying machines.

The room was also full of people. Quirks. All of whom became very tense upon seeing Aizawa.

“Who’s this?” asked one of them, a thin woman still wearing a blood-splattered costume. Aizawa vaguely recognized her face as that of a hero who’d been popular when he’d been a kid.

“This is Eraserhead,” said Search. “The real Eraserhead.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” said Search.

Aizawa didn’t know how she could be, seeing as she hadn’t really asked him any questions that could confirm his identity, but he didn’t belabor the point.

“He’s looking for someone,” she continued.

“Forget that, how did you even get in here?” demanded someone else.

“A quirk,” said Aizawa.

“Duh,” said a boy in an old Shiketsu uniform. “Of course it was a quirk. Can we have some more detail? We haven’t gotten any news since she came in.” He jerked his head towards Search.

“It was a number of quirks,” allowed Aizawa, “interacting in an unpredicted way. The reason you haven’t gotten any…” He looks at Search. “News. Is because All for One is in Tartarus.”

He’d vaguely expected for the quirks to be reassured by this. Instead, they frowned.

“If you manage to get out,” said the boy, “tell them that they need to kill him. He’s not going to stay nicely in prison.”

“He’s right,” said the woman, crossing her arms. “It doesn’t matter what kind of restraints, drug cocktail, or quirk you’ve got. You see the crowds out there?” She moved to point. “Every person in them is a quirk. Strength quirks, fire quirks, longevity quirks, healing quirks, you name it, he’s got it. The only reason he hasn’t sunk the country is because he wants to rule it.” There was a murmur of agreement.

“I’ll pass it on,” said Aizawa. “But I do have something I’m here for.”

“What?” she snapped.

“A kid’s quirk,” said Search, quickly.

“Why?” asked a vigilante’s quirk, stepping forward. Aizawa had investigated their death. People with healing quirks rarely died like that. “What good does it do you?”

“I know the kid in question,” said Aizawa. “The rest is classified.”

He could make things classified if he wanted to.

“Can you describe them?” asked the vigilante, making gentle shapes with their hands.

“A boy,” said Aizawa. “Green eyes, green curly hair. Probably small. Probably has a thing for notebooks.”

The atmosphere in the room stilled from merely unnatural to deathly.

“Yeah,” said the woman. “We know who you’re talking about.” She pursed her lips. “This is something that’ll make it so All for One won’t be able to use him anymore, right?”

“Hopefully,” said Aizawa. “When you say use…”

The woman waved him off. “The kid’s fine,” she said. “Just terrifying, is all.”

Aizawa closed his eyes. “Of course he is.”

.

"We decided to keep him away from the other kids," said the vigilate's quirk, "because he was freaking them out."

They were in an apartment building again, this one newer.

"We try to keep the kids away from all that in general." The vigilante waved towards the racket outside. "Wish we could get them free, but…" He trailed off, fixing Aizawa with an appraising look. "If this works with your kid, and he gets his quirk back, maybe you could try with some of the others? I think at least some of them must still be alive out there, right? If your kid is."

"I'll look into it," said Aizawa, "but I'm afraid this is a one time only chance."

"Figures," muttered the vigilante. He knocked on the door.

There was an excited gasp from the other side, and then the pitter-patter of little feet. Then, more concerningly, several metallic clanks and clicks as bolts and locks from the other side of the door were released. The door swung back, and a painfully tiny version of Midoriya beamed up at them.

[kindahoping4forever]

Under The Christmas Lights // Ashton Irwin

Cass and I are having a blast so we hope everyone has been enjoying Hoe For The Hoe-lidays as much as we are. Her Cal blurb for the day, Baby Please Come Home, is up at @cal-puddies​ and it is one of my favorites from her, so you should definitely check it out if you haven’t already. (And as always, links to all of this week’s blurbs are in the event masterlist below!) Stay tuned tomorrow for our last set of blurbs and our grand finale on Monday: a galaxybrain co-write I guarantee you do not want to miss.

Extra thanks to Cass for helping me figure out what this story wanted to be. The overall concept remained but the structure, character details and tone of it took on a life of its own and morphed drastically as I was writing it. 

Warnings: Established slow burn with Neighbor!Ash, mentions of quarantine, a healthy helping of thirst and sexual tension, implied consensual voyeurism and exhibitionism, mutual masturbation

Word Count: 4048

Hoe For The Hoe-lidays Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist and Ko-Fi linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

"Quite the festive display you have there."

He stops at the end of his driveway, popping an earbud out as he turns towards your voice. Your next door neighbor, Ashton, stands in his yard, looking at you expectantly as you sit on your front porch, gesturing towards the freshly hung Christmas decorations all along his house.

"Oh thanks! I'm actually not even done. Waiting on a few more pieces to be delivered, really trying to merry things up, you know?" He answers, turning to collect today’s mail.

"Oh really? Everything's already so bright and eye-catching… up so early too," you punctuate your evaluation with a sip of coffee.

He smiles at you and you’re almost embarrassed to say you feel your heart skip a beat. You admit you had a bit of a crush on him when you moved in last year and for a while it seemed plausible you could’ve ended up more than just friendly neighbors. But that hope was yet another thing 2020 took from you.

Even though you were home more because of quarantine, you understandably had to interact with him less and less; gone were the days of “accidentally” baking too many cookies and walking over to offer him a plate or hoping your mail gets misdelivered so he’ll have an excuse to come visit you. These days, your visits were relegated to socially distanced greetings over the backyard fence and happenstance meetings like this.

“Yeah… I know it’s early in the season but I thought after the year we’ve all had, a little extra Christmas cheer couldn’t hurt,” he shrugs. He looks like he’s about to elaborate but then he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket; he apologetically but sincerely says, “Have a good night” and then scurries back to his house before you can get another word in.

It’s another couple of weeks before your next encounter, one night when you’re bringing the garbage can back up the drive and you hear Ash’s voice greeting you from his side of the fence.

“Those decorations certainly escalated, didn’t they?” You ask, amusedly peering up at his colorful house; the flickering icicle lights on the trim were a new addition, along with a big glowing snowflake and star sitting on his balcony.

“Does that mean you like it?” He laughs delightedly, walking up his own driveway. Your brain involuntarily appreciates how he looks with the lights reflecting off the dark wool trench coat he’s wearing; his hair is a lot longer than the last time you saw him, beard much darker and fuller. He looks good. You try not to think about it.

“Very pretty… not anything I would put up, but it suits you,” you comment, hoping your tone landed on the right side of the line between flirty and rude; you’re so out of practice at this, you’re not quite sure.

He takes it in stride. “That’s fair,” he chuckles. “No decorations for you this year?”

“Oh, I’ve got a wreath on my door,” you gesture. “May or may not get a tree. Little touches like that, things just for me; that feels appropriate but full on decorating this year… it just doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel true to what we’re all experiencing.”

He furrows his brow. “Do you think my decorations are dishonest?” He asks, looking interested in your perspective.

“Not yours specifically, lots of people in the neighborhood are doing the same thing, some started even earlier than you did,” you carefully try to explain. “It just feels like surrounding ourselves with these crazy festive decorations… it’s like we’re working very hard to convince each other, maybe even ourselves, that this year isn’t any different when that couldn’t be farther from the truth… it is different and it feels weird not to acknowledge that.”

You look up, hoping you haven’t offended him, that you don’t see like too much of a grinch; you find yourself surprised at how relieved you feel when he nods thoughtfully as he considers your point of view.

“I actually agree, people are definitely using the decorations as a bit of a coping mechanism,” Ashton states, leaning on the fence as he ponders. “But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I know for me, after spending so much time being upset that I was trapped in my house this year, I figured I should do what I can to make my house feel happy for once. Especially if I’m gonna spend Christmas alone in it.”

You marvel at how despite the heavy turn the conversation has taken, his face never darkens, his warm and cheerful aura never falters. “Oh. I actually hadn’t thought of it like that,” you admit, playing with the drawstring of your hoodie, wondering why you care that you’re feeling vulnerable around him. “I’ll be alone this year too. I guess it just doesn’t feel like Christmas to me so I don’t like reminding myself that it is that time of year. If that makes sense.’

He gives you a sad but empathetic look. “I totally get it. I felt like that for most of the year… birthdays, seasons changing… I didn’t want to admit any of it was happening,” he shares. “But I don’t know… not to seem like I have it all figured out, but if we can’t change how we react to the environment we’re in, I think there’s something to be said for changing the environment itself. It’s important to acknowledge what you feel but also letting in even a little positivity can do wonders.”

You offer him a soft smile, letting him know you appreciate his encouragement. “Even just seeing the wreath on my door every morning is a nice moment,” you confess.

Ash smiles back and you feel warmer than if you’d gone inside and cozied up in front of your fireplace. “See? A couple strings of lights, a little tree. Maybe break out with that big yellow Minion you put out on your lawn when you moved in last Christmas,” he teases, lightening the mood.

“OK, first of all, it’s not a Minion, it’s Woodstock from the Peanuts, thank you,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I’m surprised you remember that.”

“Well, it was quite the first impression,” he shrugs and you can’t help but notice how broad his shoulders look in that coat.

You lay in bed that night, the night’s events on a loop in your mind; you ended up standing outside and chatting over the fence for more than an hour. It was nice and stirred a sense of normalcy in you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. It stirred other feelings in you as well but you knew there wasn’t any sense in dwelling on that since it’d be a long time before either of you would be able to do anything about that.

A few days later, you hear a muffled murmur that sounds a lot like your name while you’re washing dishes; you look out the kitchen window to see Ashton waving at you from his patio. He’s shirtless and sweaty, having clearly just finished his afternoon yoga session. Not that you had taken to timing your kitchen chores to coincide with his workouts.

You signal to him to give you a minute and then you head out the backdoor to chat. “What’s up?” You say as casually as possible, willing yourself to keep your eyes trained on his face and not the sweat dripping over his defined muscles or how low his athletic shorts are hanging.

“Your house is looking nice,” he gestures at the colored lights you recently hung around your window frames. “Little touches, just for you, like you said. I like it.”

You beam at him, impressed that he remembered your words from the other night. “You were right, I do feel a bit brighter having put those up,” you share, stuffing your hands in your hoodie pocket to keep from fidgeting, thinking about how much you’d like to brush the curls out of his eyes.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replies jovially. “I actually have something for you.” He gestures for you to back up as he ducks inside his backdoor, retrieving the package off his kitchen table; he walks back out and smiles when he sees you’ve also turned around so he can surprise you. He sets the box over the fence and returns to his patio; he waits a beat longer than necessary to give you the all clear, he had to give himself a second to appreciate your ass in those leggings.

You spin around and see a box containing an inflatable light up Minion wearing a Santa hat. “Are you kidding me?!” You burst out laughing, picking up the gift to inspect.

“Figured Woodstock could use a buddy,” he laughs, shrugging. “Ordered it when I came inside after our talk the other night, just in case you changed your mind about decorating.”

You feel yourself blush. “Wish I could offer you more than a smile and a thank you,” you blurt, before realizing how forward that sounded. “I mean, like a hug or dinner or something…” You laugh nervously and look to see him trying and failing to hold back a devilish smirk.

“Well. When the time is right, I’d love to take you up on that offer… for the hug or the something,” he flirts.

The next day, you make Christmas cookies and leave some in his mailbox when he goes for his morning run. When he comes to tape a thank you note to your front door, he catches a glimpse of you through the window, decorating the tabletop Christmas tree you bought for yourself and you share a nice moment.

You gave him your phone number that time pre-lockdown when he went out of town and you watered his lemon tree; he finally starts using it, texting you on and off throughout the day and it’s nice to feel like you finally have someone to share with.

It’s when you’re in bed at night, texting away, that you always wish you could share even more with him. Your phone says he’s typing a response and you turn over to stare across the room at your bedroom window, the one facing his bedroom window. His curtains are drawn but you can see the soft glow of a bedside table lamp illuminating the room; you wonder what color the lamp is. Wonder if he sleeps on the left or right side of his bed. Wonder what he’s wearing while he’s typing his messages to you. If he’s wearing anything at all. Wonder if he wants to ask you the same thing. You lay there, wondering, until your phone buzzes again and the cycle continues.

You carry on like this for the next couple of weeks, collecting feelings and building tension. A few days before Christmas, you hurry outside to collect the packages that were just delivered by the mailbox, rushing to bring them in before the holiday Zoom party you have planned with friends.

You stop to text your pals you’ll be a few minutes late when you hear a sharp gasp behind you. You turn and see Ashton at the end of his driveway, eyes poring over you in the fitted green velvet wrap dress you’re wearing.

“You sure cleaned up for the mail delivery?” He jokes, trying to recover how clearly affected he is by the sight in front of him. You realize it’s the first time in months he’s seen you in anything besides hoodies and lounge pants.

You laugh, walking to the fence. “I have a Zoom party to attend but I didn’t want these boxes sitting out here all night,” you explain, instinctively starting to touch your face out of nervousness before stopping yourself for the sake of the dark red lipstick you have on; you’re not used to wearing makeup these days.

“Well… you look fuckin’ incredible,” he breathes, making no attempt to disguise the way his gaze is travelling up and down your body. He runs his hand through his hair and clears his throat, willing himself to move on. “I won’t keep you, then. I just wanted to ask you something.”

You lock eyes with him and feel your heart speed up; usually you’d have a quippy reply to shoot back to him but today, all you can think of is the heat you feel between the two of you. Instead, you nod attentively, trying your best to act like your mind isn’t distracting you with daydreams of walking around to his side of the fence and leaping into his arms.

“I know we’re both alone for the holidays… wish I’d thought of this sooner, so we could’ve done something about Christmas, actually… but say if we were to properly quarantine - you know, like, no outside contact at all quarantine - would you want to spend New Year’s together?” He’s speaking quickly, rushing it out as if he’s afraid he’ll lose his nerve and yet he presents his proposal with an assurance that almost hypnotizes you.

You can’t keep from grinning ear to ear but you still try to play it cool. “That could be fun,” you answer, grateful. You joke, “God, I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at a party for New Year’s, what do people even do to celebrate at home?”

Without missing a beat, he suggestively replies, “I’m sure we can think of something.”

You have fun with your friends on Zoom but in the back of your mind you can’t stop thinking about the way that Ash looked at you, the honest hunger in his eyes. You keep your curtains open much later than usual, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, wondering if the lights around the window will catch his eye and he’ll stop to try and catch a glimpse of you.

New Year’s can’t get here fast enough as far as you’re concerned but time feels like it’s moving slower than ever. Christmas finally arrives and you wake up bright and early to Zoom your family to open the presents they sent you. Afterwards, you decide to give yourself the gift of going back to sleep; when you wake up a few hours later, you tidy up the living room, gathering the trash bags of torn wrapping paper and ribbons to take out to the garbage.

You step outside and note Ashton isn’t on his patio like he is most mornings; you’re just about to head back inside when you hear a warm “Merry Christmas” from over the fence.

You turn to see him wearing a smile brighter than his extravagant Christmas lights display and yours combined. “How’s your morning?” He asks earnestly.

You smile back. “It’s good! Slept in a little, Zoomed with the fam. Lowkey but nice.”

“Ohhh. That’s why you weren’t at the window this morning,” he muses. You look at him quizzically and a sheepish look washes over his face. “I’ve maybe noticed that you seem to like tidying up the kitchen around the same time every morning… maybe sometimes when I’m ready to start my stretches, I’ll check to see if you’re at the window yet. Maybe sometimes if you aren’t there yet, I’ll wait.”

You feel yourself flush, flattered. “Here I thought I was being voyeuristic when all along you’re just an exhibitionist,” you smirk.

He chuckles knowingly. "And you're leaving your curtains open all hours of the night for aesthetic reasons?"

You're surprised you don't feel embarrassment, just a sense of pride and overwhelming desire. "You're welcome," you say coyly.

Completely devoid of self-consciousness or hesitation, Ash says seriously, "I'd give anything to come over there and kiss you right now. Touch you. Just feel you."

Your breath catches but you manage to get out, "Six days. Just gotta get through this week. Somehow."

The interaction plays over and over in your mind throughout the course of the day: the confident way he told you he wanted you, the way his gaze seemed to devour you entirely, the simultaneous relief and ache you felt knowing that the yearning that’s been threatening to overtake you has him floundering too.

Six days is a long time, especially when you’ve not so much as grazed another person since the beginning of the year, not to mention you’ve been waiting to get to this place with Ash for over a year.

The idea enters your mind while you’re cleaning up your dinner dishes, peering out the kitchen window he’d freely admitted to using to perform for you. You slip out to the garage, finding the box with your usual Christmas decorations much more easily than you expected. You glance at his living room window, ensuring he’s occupied before heading up to your bedroom to set your plan in motion.

You add as many strings of lights to your bedroom window as you can fit: colored ones, white ones, blinking ones, the ones that get slowly brighter and then dim back down. You stand back and nod to yourself, pleased with your work. You’d certainly call this eye-catching.

You feel more excited than nervous when you see it’s already around the time that Ashton usually heads upstairs for the night. You see the light in his room go on and you wait impatiently, just long enough for you to wonder if you didn’t go far enough with your display. You jump as your phone buzzes on your nightstand with a text message.

“Feeling extra festive tonight?”

You chew your lip, weighing how to play this. “Wanted to be sure I had your attention.”

He types for what feels like a lifetime but all he ends up responding with is: “Oh?”

You push yourself off your bed and go stand in front of your window, responding, “I think I’ve figured out how we get through the next week.”

You see him through his window, shirtless and in his boxers, laying on the bed with his phone. He reads your message and runs his hand over his beard, lost in thought; his head turns towards the direction of your house, pondering, when he notices your illuminated figure. You see him sit straight up and stare in disbelief as it dawns on him that you’re standing at the window, dressed in a lace lingerie set that has him almost feeling dizzy from how fast the blood is rushing to his cock.

He walks over to his own window, needing a closer look; he groans as he takes in every detail: how the red color of the bra and panties contrasts against your skin, how the black lace trim accentuates your curves, how the strappy detailing of the underwear present you as a Christmas gift meant just for him to unwrap. The lights around your window cast a glow around you, making you look like even more of a holiday fever dream come to life.

His eyes meet yours and you hold his gaze as you run your hands slowly down your body; you start by trailing down your neck to the straps of your bra, tracing along the lace outline with your fingers. You give your breasts a firm squeeze as you run your palms over the cups, stopping to use your thumbnail to tease your nipples until they poke through the thin material. Your fingers dance down your torso, swirling around the lines of your belly, pulling at the waistband of your bottoms. You tauntingly skip over your hips entirely, moving to caress your thighs.

Your phone buzzes again and you pause your show to reach for it. “Wish it were me,” Ash’s confession reads.

“In my mind, it is,” you reply, sitting your phone aside to dip into your panties. You lick your lips, in awe of how aroused you are, how aroused you’ve been since you decided to create this situation.

Ashton gulps and if he wasn’t so blinded by lust, he would’ve laughed at how audible the sound was in his ears. He wants to text you back, wants you to know how he’s dying for this week to pass so he can ravish you with the attention you deserve, the attention he should’ve given you a long time ago. But he also doesn’t want your hand to stop moving inside your underwear, so he waits.

You spread your wetness around, teasing yourself slowly. You considered bringing your bullet vibe to the window with you but you figured you were going to be overwhelmed enough and you weren’t going to need any help getting off. You close your eyes as you trace around your clit, not allowing yourself to put much pressure on it just yet, not willing to risk having this be over too soon.

He sees you throw your head back in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut, lips swollen from sucking them between your teeth and he can’t take it anymore. He pulls his cock out through the hole in his boxers and starts stroking, exhaling in relief at how instantly good it feels; he spits in his hand to ease the friction at first but it only takes a few tugs for precum to start trickling from his tip. He groans and pumps faster, knowing this won’t take long.

You press a fingertip inside yourself and moan a lot louder than you expected; you open your eyes and notice his stare remains unwaveringly focused on you, only now his hand is working his cock. He moves rapidly up and down his shaft, seemingly unconcerned with taking it slow. Part of you wishes his movements would slow down so you could get a better look at his dick but you also love that he’s seemingly so turned on by the thought of having you that he needs immediate gratification.

He tries to keep up with you, matching you stroke for stroke as you continue working yourself up, hand speeding up inside your panties, hand pawing at your clothed breast. His rough grip catches on one of the veins running down his cock and he chokes out a strained curse; he notices your mouth keeps forming a perfect O shape as you react to your self pleasure and he lets out his own whimper as he imagines how heavenly your sounds must be.

“I can’t wait to hear you when I make you cum for me.” You softly whine as you read his latest text. You’re nearly there and your head is spinning at the deliberate nature of his words: “When” he makes you cum “for him.” You rub hard at your clit and feel that familiar burning ache building in your core. You swear your wetness increases tenfold as you feel the pulsing begin.

Ashton’s cock leaps in his hand as he witnesses your body tense and shake as your orgasm washes over you; he notices your lips murmuring something and the thought enters his mind that you could be saying his name. He hopes you are.

You’re still waiting for your heart rate to settle, realizing there’s no way it will as long as you’re watching Ash pull at his cock like that. One hand flies over his length, the other firmly clutching his balls; his hips start to move, fucking into his hand as he nears the edge. You’re captivated watching his abs tense, fluttering with intensity until suddenly they’re being coated with cum. The ropes streak his skin and you decide it’s too soon to text him to share how badly you want a taste.

He hangs his head in exhaustion, briefly ducking away from the window to grab a tissue off the dresser; he cleans himself off, tucks his cock back in his boxers and finally looks back up at you. You smile softly at each other, though you’re not sure of the tone; it’s not exactly shy and it’s not entirely wistful. Whatever it is, it’s nice. Hopeful? Satisfied. For now.

You text him, “It’s after midnight now. 5 days.” 

You see him shaking his head, smiling as he types. “Still too far away. Same time tomorrow?”

You grin, shooting off your response before blowing him a kiss goodnight. “Still too far away. Meet you here after yoga tomorrow.”

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

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[nazyalenskyism]

How You Get The Girl (Part 2)

Summary: Part 2 of a Zoyalai AU  based on ‘How You Get the Girl.’ |  Nikolai tries to win Zoya back, but she’s not going to forgive him so easily.

A/N:  Zoya's reminded of all the good times she had with Nikolai, but is it enough? Thanks for reading, feedback is always really appreciated. 

How You Get The Girl (Part 1)        “Zoya, there’s someone here for you.”

        “I’m busy,” Zoya replied distractedly, her eyes fixed on the monitor before her, “tell them I’m not here.”

        “Zoya,” her new receptionist hesitated, “I tried, but he said, ‘tell Nazyalensky I know she can spare five minutes out of her busy schedule to meet with the CEO of Ravkan Industries,’ is he delusional, should I call security?” Zoya paused. Sending security to haul Nikolai out of the firm would be funny, but it would never happen. Unfortunately he probably knew the names of all of the security guards in her high rise office and sent them Christmas cards every year. Her fingers twitched around the pen she gripped in her hand, she only had another hour before she went home, and she’d taken the day off tomorrow so that she could spend it with Genya. Undoubtedly, Nikolai was here to try to weasel his way into her evening plans.

           Well, Zoya mused, if I accept whatever outrageous proposal he has for tonight, at least I won’t have to pay for it. And, if Nikolai was serious about wanting to win her back he would try as hard as he could to do so (like he did with everything), so it would be safe to assume he would splurge on her. You don’t have to take him back, you can just make fun of him the whole night and get a free dinner out of it too. She sighed, knowing this night was already doomed to be a disaster. Whatever, disasters were always more fun to deal with when Nikolai was involved. She pressed the comms button on her desk, “send him in. Tell him he has five minutes before I call security on him. But first, put him on the DNA list.”

                                                          ***

          Nikolai grinned at Zoya’s new assistant who was clearly flustered by the situation, though she did an excellent job in appearing unphased. Zoya’s old assistant must have left while they were still in the ‘try-to-contact-me-and-I’ll-run-you-over' stage of the last few months, seeing how her new assistant, Leoni, didn't know who he was. “What’s the DNA list?” he asked, blinking confusedly when she whipped out her phone, clearly snapping a picture of him. “Are you going to pull out a few of my hairs? What would Nazyalensky even want them for?”

          Leoni looked up, “ Miss Nazyalensky said that it’s classified information, sorry.”

          Nikolai peered at her screen, she was making a poster with the image she’d just taken of him, captioned with, ‘CEO of Ravkan Industries.’ “My name is Nikolai, if that helps. Nikolai Lantsov.”

          She waved him away, “you’re free to go in now. Have a nice day. Also, watch out, she’s very good at tearing men to shreds.”

          Nikolai let out a laugh, “thank you, Miss Hilli, I’ll keep that in mind. I also happen to have it on good authority that she won’t tear me to shreds tonight.”

          “Why not?”

          “Because I think she’s been expecting me for a while.”

          “You’ll need a better line than that to win her over.”

          Nikolai pressed his knuckles to the door, “it’s me.” He heard faint grumbling he assumed was Zoya cursing him out before the door opened automatically and he sauntered into the room. “I can’t believe you forgot to tell Leoni who I was, Nazyalensky. Can you imagine the blow to my ego when she didn’t recognize me?” He slipped into the chair across from her, attempting to snatch a piece of candy from the golden bowl on her desk.

          “Hey!” she snapped, swatting his hand away without even looking up at him, “I’m sure your gigantic ego can handle it.” she continued flipping through the papers on her desk, highlighting things before turning back to her computer, never once looking at him. After 10 minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore.

          “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?”

          “You know that I know why you’re here. You just want a chance to say it out loud.”

          “Right you are, Zoya dear! Tonight, you and I are spending the night out on the town.”

          She looked at him pointedly, “and why would I agree to that?”

          “Because we’re taking my car, and I’m paying for dinner.”

          She arched a brow, “you’re driving? What, no chauffeur today?”

          Grinning, Nikolai leaned back in his chair. “Well, I’m certainly not getting into a car with you behind the wheel.”

          “I’m a good driver!” she hissed, jabbing her pen in his direction.

          “Mailboxes and terrified pedestrians beg to differ, dear.”

          “Whatever,” she huffed, “you’re not much better.”

          “You’re right about that, I’m infinitely better.”

          “Aren’t you trying to get me to agree to go out with you? Insulting me isn’t the way to do it.”

          “Come on Nazyalensky,” he smiled, “it can’t be more insufferable than going out with -- what’s his name, the guy who works across the hall -- the one I saw trying to get himself together enough to ask you out tonight? Mel? Mervin? Martin? Marcus?”

          She made a face, “I think it’s Merle?”

          “Exactly my point.”

          Zoya twisted a tendril of hair around her finger, which she usually did when thinking. “Don’t mistake my amusement for something else. I haven’t forgiven you.”

          “I didn't ask you to,” Nikolai replied softly, “I just asked for a chance. Please just let me take you out tonight Zoya. Please.” He never begged, it wasn’t in his nature, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make her look at him like she did before, like he hadn’t hurt her.

          She exhaled, “fine, but this doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

          “I know.”

          “You’ll have to wait a while, I can’t leave until I finish going through this case, it’ll take me at least another hour, maybe two.”

          “Take your time,” Nikolai said, taking out his laptop from his bag, pulling up his own work, “I can wait.”

                                                          ***

          Three hours later, it was 7 PM and Zoya had collapsed on the ground, now staring up at the ceiling from her plush rug, her case files a mess around her. Nikolai sat by the window, the light of the setting sun illuminating his features. He looks like a prince in an oil painting, she thought, and then figured that her lack of sleep plus her hunger must be making her delirious.

          “Let’s get some dinner,” Nikolai announced, suddenly standing up.

          “Lantsov, I’m too tired to go out.”

          “Fantastic, we’ll order in then.”

          “Fine, but only because I’m too tired to storm out of here and go home right now,” she grumbled, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes.

          He let out a chuckle, picking up his phone, stopping in his tracks when Zoya’s fingers shot out, wrapping around his wrist. “Wait, where are you ordering from?”

          “Tolya’s, of course,” Nikolai replied, his eyes trained on Zoya’s fingers still clutched at his wrist. She moved to pull her hand back, but he was quicker, resting his on top of hers for an extended moment, his eyes lingering on her face. She fought to keep any hint of feeling out of her features, but she knew the tops of her cheeks were pinking. How dare he affect her this way. It was the first time they’d touched this way in months and Zoya hated how her chest constricted the longer he looked at her, the longer that his fingers brought warmth to her. She pulled out of his grasp, trying to clear her mind, deciding to settle on scooping up case files from the ground so that she could free herself from his piercing gaze. Nikolai turned towards the window, the city lights masking his face from her as he ordered from their friend’s restaurant.

          She had missed this, just a bit, she could admit that much to herself. She had missed Nikolai’s ability to make others feel at ease, to make them laugh, and trust him. To want to lay their faith in them. She had missed the press of his fingers and those intelligent hazel eyes that never missed a thing, that could read her like an open book. Those eyes that were now back on her, Nikolai’s hand warm in hers as she took his offering hand to pull her up.

          “Tolya said he’d personally deliver the order to the lobby, is that okay?” She nodded dazedly in response, picking up her bag and heading following him out the door, halting by her receptionist’s desk.           “Leoni,” Zoya said, feeling breathless as she ran a hand through her hair, “why are you still here? You know you don’t have to stay a minute past 6.”

          “Oh,” Leoni said carefully, “I know, I was busy and forgot the time.”

          Zoya frowned, moving around to Leoni’s side of the desk, “what were you working on? Everything but the Brekker case is closed and I just started it.”

          “These biscuits are so tasty, Leoni. Are you sure it’s okay if I take the whole box?” the man who was mumbling through a cookie halted in his tracks as Zoya whirled on him incredulously.

          “Adrik Zhabin, what the hell are you doing here?”

          “I--”

          “You know Zoya?” Leoni interjected.

          “Well, funny story--”

          “Does he know me? He’s my friend’s little brother! Are you,” she jabbed an accusatory finger at Adrik, “flirting with my receptionist?”

          Adrik flushed as Leoni smiled at him affectionately, “no, I’m just driving her home.”

          Zoya raised an eyebrow, “I have my eye on you Zhabin. You better just be ‘driving her home.’ Does your sister know about this?” She yanked her cellphone out of her purse, nearly dropping it when Nikolai placed his hand on top of hers.

          “Nazyalensky, leave him alone.”

          “But--”

          “Zoya”

          “Fine,” she huffed, putting her phone away, “Adrik, I’ve already lost one receptionist thanks to Mal Oretsev, you better watch yourself.”

          “Yes ma’am,” Adrik said grumpily, avoiding eye contact with Nikolai as Leoni led him out the door, his hand tight in hers.

          Nikolai waited until they were out of sight before turning to Zoya, “Can I walk you home, Nazyalensky?”

          He got an eye roll in return, “if you want to waste your night, go ahead, but I’m planning on taking my share of dinner and going back to my place.”

          “Fantastic .”

          “Fantastic,” she muttered.

                                                            ***

          “I forgot how short you are without heels,” Nikolai teased as Zoya collapsed next to him on the picnic blanket, her glare bleary but cutting all the same. The sun was slowly setting, and the riverside was quiet, the only noise being the occasional conversations from those on the pathways. Dinner had been fairly quiet, they were too hungry to talk and Tolya’s food was far too good to not eat it quickly. Or at least that’s what she assumed Nikolai’s logic was, she knew her own reasons for refraining from chatting away with Nikolai, as easy as she knew the old habit would be to fall into.

          “I’m six inches shorter than you, Nikolai, you’re not as tall as you think you are.”

          “Anything shorter than me is short.”

          “Ugh, I don’t care. I’m too tired and stuffed to deal with you,” she pushed his cheek away with her hand, closing her eyes as he laid down next to her, their hands nearly touching but not quite.

          There was a long silence and for a moment Zoya thought Nikolai had fallen asleep, but then he spoke up, “do you remember how we used to come down here on the weekends?”

          Zoya pushed down the urge to look over at him, “yes.”

          “When you used to sit up here with your giant textbooks and chunky glasses.”

          “My glasses were sleek and fashionable.”

          “You remember 6 A.M. on Saturday mornings very differently than I do.”

          She jammed her elbow into his side, his wheezing laugh making her shake her head. “With your back to back rowing and sailing practice, I had a lot of time to study.”

          “Yeah, but you always found the time to cheer me on. Every time I looked up, you would be waving back. In the team rooms on campus, half of my pictures on the wall were ones you took after practice.” The pictures in frames, she knew were all the ones he had said he loved, where her bright lipstick stained his cheeks. It had been so easy to forget her hurt this afternoon as they worked quietly, side by side, when they joked as if nothing had happened, but this reminiscing was too much, it brought back all the wrong memories.

          “Young Zoya had a habit of getting herself caught up in things that wasted her time when she shouldn’t have.” The words were harsh, they left a bitter taste in her mouth but she couldn’t hold them in. How many nights had she spent, curled up in bed, simply wanting answers as to why Nikolai had walked out of her life with no explanation. She hated to admit that she had been searching for love her whole life, love from a mother and mentor who saw her as nothing more than a means to their own ends. Love from a father who was too afraid to stand up for himself, for her. She had found it once, and she thought that with Nikolai she had found it again. How wrong she was.

          “I know you don’t believe me, Zoya, but I never meant to hurt you.”

          “You don’t know what I believe,” she whispered, horrified at how her eyes burned. She shut them tighter still, “I know that you left because you were trying to protect me. Because you thought it was your fault and you wanted to fix things, because you always want to fix things.” Nikolai was quiet and so she continued, six months of pent up words tumbling out. “You made me feel safe, you made me believe that you wouldn’t leave. I let myself fall for your charms again and again, I won’t let myself be fooled so easily again.” She felt tears leak from the corners of her eyes, even in this moment where all she wanted to do was yell at him, she felt safe enough to tell him the truth of how she felt. Damn him.

          “I wasn’t trying to trick you, not you, never you.” Nikolai’s voice was thick and she knew that if she looked over at him, she would see tears in his eyes too.

          “I tried so hard to hate you. I really did. But then you called every day, you sent me those letters, all the flowers, why couldn’t you just tell me the truth from the start? You know I would’ve understood. I would’ve helped.”

          “I’ve told you how bad my family is, but they’re truly horrible. I couldn’t think of a way to fix the situation without ruining your life, if they knew you existed, they would’ve made it hell. I should’ve told you before I did any of it, but I was a coward. It was easier to leave first and explain later. I didn’t want to watch your heart break,” his voice broke on the last word and Zoya pressed her palm to her mouth, trying to push back a sob.

          Nikolai’s hand brushed against hers on the picnic blanket and she grasped it tightly, needing something to hold onto as silent sobs racked her body. He didn’t try to reach out or comfort her, he knew she didn’t want that, that she didn’t need it. Despite all that, she let herself break in that moment, surrendering to an all too familiar comfort, the press of his hand against hers. Zoya took one deep breath, then another, until she felt grounded, swiping at the tears that still lingered on her cheeks. She stood up abruptly, gathering her things as quickly as she could, without looking back at him. Zoya needed to get out of here, her head was still swimming with a thousand emotions she couldn’t try to detangle, and she refused to fall into Nikolai’s arms again because she let her emotions get the best of her. He didn’t try to stop her.

[ashestoashesjc]

A Necromancer & His Zombie Boyfriend On A Couple's Retreat

Short Story 1/2/(3)/4/5/6/7/8/9/10

"RrRRrrrr... grrr? <Hey, uh, babe... seen my arm anywhere?>" rang Sett's voice throughout their cigar box of a house as he rummaged through closets, opened cabinets, overturned couch cushions. 

Shutting and latching the front door behind him, Ulrick began flipping through the stack of envelopes clutched in his right hand. "Huh? Oh…”

“Okay, so… don’t get mad,” Ulrick began, as meekly and guilt-tinged as one can make a shout. “But... there was this huge, I mean HUGE silverfish…” 

“GRrrr! Rrrrr. <Dude! Not cool,>” could be heard as Sett stomped his way to the foyer. 

“I know! I’m sorry! I’m weak!” moaned Ulrick. 

Sett sighed as he entered the cove and laid his single remaining hand on Ulrick’s left shoulder, the other sleeve draped flaccidly at his side. “Grrrr. <Well, yeah.>” he said. Ulrick snickered. 

“You know, having your boyfriend kill a bug for you is exceedingly normal,” Ulrick said, separating the bills from the letters that weren’t bills. There were very few that weren’t bills. “Almost conventional.” 

“Rrr. <True,>” Sett replied. “Rggrrrr. <Probably while the arm’s still attached, though.>”

“A mere quibble.” 

“Rrrrgrrr? <So, where is it now?>” Sett asked. 

“Ugh. Still getting cozy with the silverfish, I’d imagine,” Ulrick admitted, guilt creeping back into his voice. He covered his eyes with his free hand and shuddered. “In… the shower.”

Sett sucked air through his teeth in a compassion-filled cringe. 

“Yeah,” Ulrick sighed, resigned to his trauma. 

“Grrrr. <Don’t worry,>” said Sett. “Rraarr. <I got it.>” 

Ulrick slid his hand down his face with a grateful groan. “God, I love you.” Sett pulled him forward by his collar and pecked his forehead.

Continuing to sort through the mail, Ulrick came to a red envelope and, seeing it addressed to Sett, handed it over. “Looks important.”

Confusion clouded Sett’s eyes for the first few, slow moments spent undoing the envelope’s seal flap, until suddenly, a surge of realization like lightning drove him to violently tear the crimson paper away.

As he scanned the contents of the letter contained within, words failing to do his emotional state justice, Sett began to fist pump wildly, God help anyone in the flight path of his singular elbow. Ulrick looked on in entranced bewilderment.

“Was there itching powder in that envelope?” asked Ulrick.

Sett shoved the creased letter in Ulrick’s face, his manic energy not yet dissipated. Ulrick took it and held it out at arm’s length until his eyes brought the words into focus. 

“A couple’s retreat?” he wondered aloud, lowering the paper enough to peer over the top at Sett.  

“Grrgrrrr. <An all-expenses paid couple’s retreat.> Rrrrrr. <At a swanky resort.> GrrrrRr. <Complete with water skis.>”

“This is from a contest?” he asked, rotating and inspecting the sheet. “When did we enter a contest?”

“Rrggrrrr? <You know those entry slips we’re getting in the post all the time?>”

“The ones I’m always throwing away? I’m familiar.” 

“RrrRrrrrr ggrrrr. <Well, your aim could use some work, because some of them wind up in the mailbox,>” said Sett, with a shrug.

The sound that next filled the room, colored with exasperated mirth, was one Sett was used to Ulrick making, though one that never stopped bringing a flush of heat to the place where his heart used to be. 

He grabbed Ulrick by the hips and the two began to sway back and forth. “Rrrrrr. <Just imagine it,>” he purred dreamily. “GrrrRRrrrr rrrrRrrr grrr...arrrr? <Massages, rock-climbing, a luau. And… did I mention waterskiing?>”

Swaying still, Ulrick looked up with his head cocked. "I've... never heard you mention waterskiing before."

"GrrRrrrrrr. <I enjoy a lot of things I don't talk about.> Rgrrrrgrrr. <Like country music, or bad chick lit,>" Sett said before twirling and dipping Ulrick in a blur. "Rraarrrr. <I'm a multi-layered zombie.>"

Breaking clumsily away from the songless dance and squeezing the bridge of his nose, Ulrick set down the remainder of the mail on the side table by the entrance and looked his boyfriend over. “It’s totally free?”

“Grrarrr. <It’s totally free,>” confirmed Sett. 

Ulrick raised an eyebrow. “No catch?” 

���Rrr… <Well…>”

-

“And streeetch! That’s right! Streeetch!” 

At the front of Meadow Grove Resort’s famed yoga studio balanced - one foot planted on the ground, the other hooked deftly behind her neck - Chrysanthemum Smith, a remarkably limber 60-year-old instructor, urging her out-of-shape contest winning students to achieve the same feats of flexibility.   

All around Ulrick and Sett, a pretzel factory’s soon-to-be-discarded collection of heinous, gnarly undesirables had been given life in the form of sweaty middle Americans. 

That pretzels went through a less agonizing process being baked at 500 degrees was a fact Ulrick was both confident in and envious of. His legs were angled in a way he was sure he’d feel for weeks to come. 

Sett, on the other hand, had apparently been a contortionist in a past life, the way he bent himself into poses, well, a pretzel would gawk at, holding each position stoically before moving gracefully on to the next. It also helped that he couldn’t feel what would leave most tendons shredded rags.

Ulrick gave up the pursuit of dislocating his pelvis and instead went to poke Sett in the cheek. Through his mask, Sett made a chomping motion at the finger, though remained otherwise totally still. "Okay, but this kind of bites, right?" Ulrick signed. 

"A little. And not in the fun way," Sett signed back.

On a pair of blue, rubber mats to their left were two women - one in a biker's jacket and tattered, patched jeans, short red hair tied into a haphazard ponytail; the other a dark woman donning a shaved head, flower-patterned maxi dress, and combat boots - the former of whom suddenly grabbed Ulrick's attention with a nod. 

"You're telling me," she signed. 

And in an instant, they were no longer alone in the hazy, secluded sphere that made their reality.

So taken aback was he that he blurted aloud, "You sign?" 

The yoga instructor shushed him from her place at the head of the wide room, leading him to duck down sheepishly. With the forced inclusion of an overly casual air, he said more than asked, "You sign."

"Oh, yeah," the woman chuckled gruffly. "Mom's Deaf." 

Taking a sudden interest in the conversation, Sett's head swiveled to the leather jacket-clad woman. "Shit yeah!" he signed with fervor, eliciting a harsh snort from the woman. The instructor's head whipped around to glare her way, but went ignored. 

Sett's hands jumbled for a moment before he continued. "I mean, I'm sure that must have been very difficult for your family and--"

She gave a dismissive wave of the hand. "Nah, don't worry about it. She's capital 'D' Deaf. A congenital thing. Whole family's been signing forever."

Her wife - Jen, they later learned - chimed in with, "Di does it at home, too. She's taught me half the lyrics to Boys for Pele." 

"Wow!" Ulrick said with teeth-clenching enthusiasm. "That's so great! Isn't that so great, Sett?"

The mask did nothing to conceal Sett's raised, beaming features. "That's so great!" he signed. 

"I'm sorry!" bellowed the lithe yogi, shattering all delusions of serenity. "Am I boring you?" 

Several overlapping voices came to the general consensus of "Christ, yes."

One of the husbands, portly and somewhat resembling the famously affable capybara, asked, somewhat less affably, why they were being stretched into taffy when they should be outside taking one-on-one lessons with the beach volleyball instructor. He was joined by a few surly “yeah!”s. 

They were met with an unimpressed crossing of the arms. Though it should be noted Smith’s foot was still being held comfortably behind her head. 

"I would suggest, in the future, that you more closely scrutinize contest entries," Yogi Smith advised in as calm a manner as it seemed she could now manage, though with an unmistakable edge to her voice. "In order to partake in our facility’s more... physically involved activities, you’ll first need to align and cleanse your mental, emotional, and spiritual energies.”

This provoked a studio-wide groan, with the exclusion of Jen, who seemed just eager enough to cancel out the cloud of grim impatience encircling her. 

“Unless, of course,” Smith said, shifting poses to something favoring the letter ‘G’, “you’d prefer to construct your own schedules. In which case, a full price admission to Meadow Grove Resort remains available.”

She sleekly extended her right leg, pointing its foot pin-straight toward the sliding studio doors. “Don’t, as the masters of yore were wont to say, let the door hit ya.” 

When no one moved and the room went quiet enough to hear an acupuncture needle drop, Smith resumed a standing position and bowed three times to each division of the studio. “Namaste. Namaste. Namaste.” 

Chrysanthemum Smith had in no way undersold how ‘aligned and cleansed’ couple’s therapy and its airings of dirty laundry and subsequent ferocious dissolutions of decades of marriage; couple’s pottery, the same thing but with clay vases; and couple’s finger-painting, a bonding exercise in shared humiliation, would make their minds, emotions, and souls through sheer gut-rending hilarity.

Ulrick almost didn’t want to stop watching people who, hours ago, seemed all confidence and bravado, now being brought to tears by an instructor’s criticism of their macaroni art lacking ‘depth.’ 

But their confinement was over and they were free to roam the grounds as they saw fit and Sett, without even feigning to look for a map of the resort, made a beeline for the largest body of water (and the largest gathering of humans) he could sniff. Ulrick was still surprised at times by how agile Sett could be on his feet when on the hunt for blood - or recreational watersports - and struggled to keep up. 

Their long-awaited waterskiing adventure began almost as soon as they arrived at the lakeside, the instructor needing a volunteer at that instant to man the skis while he lectured another guest on the controls of the boat. At nearly a head taller than anyone else present, Sett didn’t need much more than a raised hand to stand out. 

Things were going great; Sett mounted on skis as long as he was tall, the boat revving greedily for take off. At Sett’s thumbs up, the runabout hammered off in a thunderous roar. And then, all at once, things were going wrong. 

The envisioned majesty of skimming the motionless calm of the crystal river was halted abruptly with a leaden Sett stumbling mid-lake in his skis, trying and failing to correct himself, going feet-over-head, and sinking like an anchor to the agitated silt of the riverbed below. 

Ulrick, though he jumped with concern at the first hint of a misstep, expected a brief swim back, perhaps slowed a bit - but not much - by Sett's stoney limbs. He’d been the star diver of his local swimming hole as a teen and still maintained some of the underwater dexterity, though nowadays tended to lurk the floors of bodies of water like a carnivorous bottom-feeder; eating habits included.

But then a few minutes passed, and nothing. A lifeguard and two of the more experienced swimmers among the guests plunged into the river and searched for fifteen minutes, cracking the surface now and again for a gulp of air, all to no avail. The water was too cloudy with sediment to see past a certain depth, and the orange-purples of dusk were beginning to settle in. They'd need to return in the morning with a diving team.

It'd now been forty-five minutes, and three of the resort’s other guests were consoling Ulrick, one herself on the verge of waterworks. They'd just witnessed a man - someone's significant other - torn tragically from life's teat, and in front of the man he loved, no less. 

Ulrick, for his part, was positively miffed. 

"When I get my hands on him..." Ulrick started, before one of the grievers tossed him a teary-eyed questioning look. "Er, that is... would that I could only put my hands on him... again..." he corrected. 

Just as Ulrick had begun mentally reviewing the basics of the Arts of Throttling, a movement, barely noticeable, shook the surface of the lake. Then bubbles, then the full break of the water as a head rose into view. Then the screams of onlookers as, in the fading light, a ghastly lake monster began its murderous approach. Then screams of a different kind as people began to make the connection proper. Then there was weeping, fainting, more than one declaration of faith renewed. It was a miracle!

Later, after insistences for medical attention were politely but firmly refused and the religious stragglers begging for just a smell of Sett’s waterlogged clothes were shooed away, Ulrick asked why he waited so long to resurface, to which Sett said, "GrrrrRRrr. <Well, at first I was just sort of embarrassed.> RrrrrrrGrrrRrrr? <Then I thought, "How often do these people see miracles?>"

"Oh, sure," groaned Ulrick. "A man comes out of a lake after half an hour and it's a miracle. A man comes out of a grave after a few months and it's "Grab the torches and pitchforks, everyone!""

"Rrrr. <Babe.>"

Ulrick gave a pouty grumble. "I'm just saying. One's a little more miraculous, is all." 

Sett pulled Ulrick's head into his chest and stroked his hair. "GrrrRrrrRrrr. <Shh, I know, dude, I know.>" His heavy, soaked clothes and lack of body heat didn't chill Ulrick as much as they should have, and though a fine coating of sand covering him from head to toe gritted against Ulrick's cheek, it only made Ulrick rub his face in rebelliously. 

"Okay," Ulrick said, resting his fists on Sett's chest and gazing up into his eyes. "What's the next activity? I think we’re... due-au for a luau?" The moment the words left his lips, his face collapsed into disgusted regret.

“Rgrrr... <Actually…>” Sett said, wrenching off his mask and shaking the excess water from his hair, teasing a blush out of Ulrick. “GgrrrRrrrr? <Doesn’t watching the stars by the lake sound pretty relaxing?>”

Ulrick grinned and took a seat on the shoreline, running his hands through the tufts of ryegrass stretching out in waves around him. He tapped a spot to his right and Sett, half-cocked smile in tow, came lumbering over to take it. 

Hours flurried past, changing nothing about the image of the intimately silent pair but the number of stark white pinpricks in the sky they beheld. 

They threatened to sit silently basking in each other forever. 

And then Sett said, “GRrrrrgrrr, rrgrrr, graargrr. <So, Diane and Jen gave me their number, and they want to plan an outing.>” 

Unease shot through Ulrick’s veins, but he held his tongue in search of the correct words. “O-oh?” 

“Grrr? Rrgrrrrr. <Isn’t that cool? People want to spend time with us,>” said Sett, ensorcelled with the twinkle of every new star. “Rrrrr. <With me.>”

“That might be…” began Ulrick, before noticing the glimmer in Sett’s eyes and faint lift at the corners of his mouth as he stared up towards a great unknown. He sighed. “It’s going to be great.” 

Sett rested his hand on Ulrick’s, their fingers interlocking. He smiled, and the two gazed into an ever-darkening firmament, speckled with a thousand stars and a thousand futures. 

[yafaemi-but-gone-fishing]

There Yafaemi was minding their own business when they heard a faded The Answers playing. Anxious at first they began to relax...when suddenly their text box lit up with the message "Dalamud is falling."

Oooh, do you think we’ll get a second version of the legacy tattoo for A Realm (Once Again) Reborn? That’d be cool. 

[rat-gvf]

Chapter 2. LIKE WE USED TO (SAMMY X ORIGINAL CHARACTER)

The following is a transcript of text messages between V and Sam Kiszka on June 23rd, just two weeks after the breakup.

SAM: I think I left my new bass strings at your place.

V: my place? you mean our place? you still live here.

SAM: I left my strings there.

V: whatever. come get em, i guess.

SAM: Thanks.

V: i can put them in the mailbox.

SAM: Even better.

V slipped the strings into the mailbox and slammed the door shut. Hurriedly, she returned to her home and peered out the window for Sammy’s all-to-familiar car to pull up. He showed up just a few moments after she stopped staring, and when she heard the shutting of car doors, she sprung up and ran to the window to watch. She hoped, and expected, for him to come to the door and at least say hello, but he didn’t. He got out of his car, and walked to the mailbox, grabbed his strings, got back in the car, and left. In fact, he left so swiftly that V thought maybe he didn’t even want to be seen. V slumped her posture down into the seat she had half-taken by the window to watch him, and sighed. She was half-angry and half-relieved at his lack of conversation, but she was more relieved than anything. On the television, the local news talked about petty thieveries in the neighborhood nearby, and Saginaw’s up and coming. V pressed down on the off button of the remote and got up from her seat to go take a dip in her pool. In her dresser, the clothes she kept hidden away from her own self stuck out like sore thumbs. Sam’s old T-Shirts with his band logo on the front were sitting folded nicely amongst his plain shirts he wore as “pajamas” before bed. His lounge shirts still smelled faintly of him, and his cigarettes- and V resisted the urge to cry when she lifted one up, and took a deep huff. 

“What am I doing?” she asked herself. She put the shirt back into the drawer and grabbed her one-piece suit. With hesitancy, she went outside to the pool and sunk into the water like a rock.

Her phone rested on the concrete pattern next to her arms that she used to hold herself up with. Every so often, it would chime with a message from her old friends asking her how she was doing- she didn’t have the nerve to tell them about Sam and her breaking up, so she lied and said they were spending the day together. Jake had texted her, but she didn’t open it. On her phone, his message idled: ‘Party tonight, me, Jita, Josh, and Sam are going. Wanna join?’. As badly as she wanted to go, she wasn’t sure that Jake knew yet, therefore she was unsure she was even welcome to go. She let the message sit for just a few moments longer, until he got impatient and called her.

“V,” Jake said, almost celebratory on the other end, “Hey! I texted you! Everything good out there?”

“As good as it gets,” V replied, splashing a bit of water with her toes, “I’m in the pool, sorry I didn’t see your text.”

“That’s all good, my friend.” Jake said, “I was asking if you wanted to come to a party with us tonight!”

“Sure, what time, and where?” Despite that she should have asked if Sam told them about the break up, a small fiery pit of vengeance grew in her chest and she felt determined to go just to piss Sam off; especially after he tried his hardest to be unseen.

“Our parents’ house,” Jake said, “Dad’s got a concert tonight, and Ma said we can use the place to throw a little shindig if we wanted.” 

“I love a good ‘shindig’.” V chuckled, and got prepared to get dressed. She knew what was next: it was happening, right now, and she was late. Or, it was going to happen an hour ago, but they’re only starting to set it up now. Either way, the boys always impulsively threw parties- and if there were planned ones, they were always late to them. Jake told her they were still setting up, which surprised her considering it was barely daylight, but she said she’d go help them anyway.

When she got back into the small home, she was overwhelmed with decisions to make. If she wanted to make Sam mad, she easily could wear one of his shirts at the expense of smelling like him all evening and potentially bringing herself to tears- or, she could try to dress up and look good. She stared at her naked body in the mirror and tried hard to admire her figure, but found it especially hard when Sammy wasn’t sneaking up from behind her to remind her how beautiful and sexy he thought she was. She reached her hand up to her right shoulder, the one he always wrapped his arm around, and touched her own bare skin. A choked up cry came, and she fought it hard. After choking back the tears, and successfully avoiding puffy eyes, V turned around to her closet and grabbed some casual party wear. She donned her white shirt, corset duo with a black jean jacket over top. She slipped her legs into a pair of black jeans, and grabbed her boots on the way out to the front. In the driveway, her rickety old car sat waiting patiently to be used. She hadn’t left the house for two weeks unless she had to, and she tried her best to avoid having to leave. V unlocked the doors and put her shoes on, then got in her car and turned the radio volume all the way down.

Her phone connected to it, and she saw “Caravel” playing on the MP3 screen of the car’s dashboard. She laughed, and switched to another playlist to ignore the Greta Van Fleet music for the time being. V was certain she would hear plenty of Josh’s scream-singing shenanigans at their family home, when they threw parties, that’s what he did. Sam mentioned it in an interview once, how Josh always found the highest part of a room and stood on it and sang, and he wasn’t wrong. However, Josh usually didn’t waste time to start singing, he was usually singing on his way to his makeshift stage. V remembered how much Josh loved attention, especially from his guests, and the excitement of seeing her brother’s old friends, especially Josh’s boisterous energy, made her drive a lot less depressing.

[lukesvangelista]

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

*gif is not mine, all credits go to the creator.

in which john b is smitten and down if you ever want to be in love with him.

pairing; john b x reader

requested; yes

warnings; fighting, mentions of blood

“We should go over to Figure Eight! We can trash their mailboxes or something,” JJ exclaimed as he paced around the porch of the château, but it was quickly shut down by everyone.

It was finally the beginning of summer break for every kid on Kildare Island, and it hadn’t gotten off to the best start, if you were being honest. School was officially out a week ago, but the five of you hadn’t been able to hang out at all. Pope had caught a bad cold from stressing out over school, John B had a bad week with DCS, Kiara’s parents needed her to work at The Wreck a lot more than usual, and you had cut your hand while slicing some onions for dinner, and your wound required 27 stitches. To put it simply, your schedules just didn’t line up, but you all were finally allowed to hang out today.

“No, JJ. That’s stupid as hell,” Kie began, “Pope, any ideas?”

Pope sighed, looking up from his book, “Why don’t we just go on the HMS Pogue for awhile?” he suggested, but he was denied by John B.

“Nah, I’ve been taking her for a spin almost every day this week. Her motor wore out. I have to fix it.” he explained.

“Y/N, do you have any suggestions?” JJ asked, an open beer now in his hands.

You smiled, leaning back on the couch cushion, “It’s a beautiful day to go surfing. I can’t believe you guys didn’t think of that.” you explained, looking around the group for answers. Almost everyone seemed to consider it, but John B was hesitant.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to go surfing, with your stitches and everything.” the brunette boy spoke, looking over at you. Pope laughed, but you weren’t sure why.

“I’m not, but I don’t care about that. No one has to know.” you replied.

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s the best idea-” John B spoke up, but was cut off by JJ.

“She already said she wanted to go, John B. Let’s do it.” he shot back, not waiting for a reply from anyone. John B rolled his eyes, and you all went into the château to get changed.

Kie walked into the bathroom to get changed once you walked out. JJ was doing whatever in the van as Pope and John B were sitting back on the porch. You walked out, turning around the corner to ask a question, “Do you have any gauze?”

“Uhh, I’m sure there’s some in there somewhere. I’m not quite sure where, though.” John B replied.

“I have some in my backpack, Y/N.” Pope smiled, unzipping his bag and tossing you a roll of gauze. You caught it with your one good hand and smiled as a thank you.

Sitting next to John B, you asked, “Will you wrap my hand for me?”

He nodded, gently grabbing the gauze out of your hand. John B wrapped it gently at first, but you told him to wrap it tightly around your stitches, “I don’t want to hurt you.” he muttered, looking up at you.

“You’re not going to hurt me, John B,” you replied, rolling your eyes slightly, “It’s okay. I’ll be alright.”

He sighed, beginning to wrap the gauze tightly over your wound. Kie was out of the house and back on the porch by now, and she gave you a look as if to say, “Prank him!”

You rolled your eyes at Kie, but decided to do it anyway. As John B was focusing on your hand, you pretended to wince, then exclaimed, “Fuck! My stitches!” as you quickly pulled your hand away.

Pope looked up from his book. Kiara pretended to be shocked. John B worried as you were clutching your hand in pain, pretending to fake cry, “Y/N, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he panicked, frantically peering into your eyes for some sort of answer.

The pain etched onto your face slowly went away, only to reveal a small smirk, “I got you.”

“Y/N, that’s not funny! I thought I seriously hurt you!” John B exclaimed, slightly shoving you a little. Pope and Kiara were laughing in the back.

Suddenly, JJ called, “You guys ready to go?” from the van. He had already loaded your guys’ surfboards into the vehicle, so he was just waiting on the four of you.

Without any second thought, you all nodded, piling into the van.

When you arrived the beach, Kie and you immediately grabbed your surfboards and rushed into the water. The three guys stayed back for a bit, but as their feet hit the sand, JJ sensed that John B was admiring you.

“You’re so whipped, man.” he laughed, turning to face the brunette boy.

John B scoffed, “No, I’m not.”

JJ rolled his eyes, “Whatever makes you feel better, dude.”

“Seriously, JB. Y/N’s got you wrapped around her little finger.” Pope joined in.

“She does not. Besides, even if I did have a crush on her, I can’t break the no Pogue on Pogue macking rule.” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“Oh, you love her,” Pope laughed, “You’re an asshole to JJ practically 100% of the time. Whenever I try to ask you a simple question, you’re distracted by her. Kie knows, too. That’s why she shoots you those little side glances whenever she’s talking to Y/N.”

“So, in conclusion, I’d say that you’re whipped.” JJ smiled.

Yes, John B was smitten. He knew that, but he just didn’t want to admit it, “I’m not smitten, okay? We’re just friends.”

“Sure, pal.” Pope and JJ said at the same time, smirking before running off to surf in the water. John B rolled his eyes before grabbing his surfboard to join them.

A few hours later, you guys were all done surfing, just chilling on the beach as the sun went down. It had gotten a little chilly, so you were cuddled up in John B’s sweatshirt. He had been so kind as to lend it to you.

“God, the sunset’s so beautiful.” you smiled, moving your head to look at John B. He nodded, smiling down at you and pulling you into his chest. You cuddled into him, attempting to steal as much of his body heat as you could. Kie smirked at you, and you rolled your eyes.

Kiara knew of your crush on John B. You always tried to deny it, but she was so persistent in getting you to admit it that you finally told her. You also said that you didn’t want to break the whole macking rule, but she told you that she could make an exception.

An unfamiliar voice snapped you all out of your thoughts, “Well, if it isn’t the no good, useless group of Pogues,” Rafe Cameron spoke, stopping in front of the five of you as he crossed his arms over his chest. Topper and Kelce appeared behind him, which made you and your friends shoot up.

“What are you doing on the Cut?” Pope spat, stepping towards the three Kooks.

“No one’s told you? We come here once a month to pick on a group of lucky Pogues.” Topper scoffed.

You shifted uncomfortably in your spot, gripping onto John B.

“Get the hell off of our side of the island.” JJ yelled, stepping forward to join Pope.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Rafe shot back.

“Just leave, Rafe! There’s no reason for you to be here on the Cut!” you yelled, growing frustrated with the Cameron boy.

His face suddenly turned red, and before you knew it he was charging at you, “You wanna say that again, pretty girl?!” John B stepped in between you and him before Rafe could reach you, and JJ had run towards him to fight. Soon enough, Pope joined in on the madness.

You hated fights. You hated when your parents fought, when your siblings fought, when Pope fought, when JJ fought, and especially when John B fought. You had always been the peacemaker between everyone.

John B was about to join the fight, but you stopped him, “No! John B, it’s not worth it.” you tugged on his shirt with your one good hand. You could hear Kiara yelling for the boys to break it up in the background, but you weren’t really focused on that.

“Of course it’s worth it! He almost hurt you,” the brunette boy turned back towards you, wanting nothing more than to beat Rafe Cameron up, but your grip on him was firm.

“He didn’t, though. Please, JB, just listen to me. I don’t want you to fight anyone,” you pleaded, your voice laced with desperation. Your grip had moved from his shirt to his wrist, which gave you a firmer hold on him.

When he saw your face, John B’s eyes softened a bit. He slowly moved back towards you, joining in with Kie’s yelling, “Break it up! It’s not worth it!”

JJ had beaten Rafe pretty badly. Blood was pouring from his nose, and a few bruises were becoming prominent on the Cameron boy’s cheekbones. Pope wasn’t doing too badly, either. Fighting wasn’t usually his scene, and he didn’t have much experience, but he landed a few good punches on Topper. Your boys were getting their fair share of it, too. Blood was dripping from a cut on Pope’s cheek, but it wasn’t horrible compared to Topper’s injuries. A ring of black and blue was beginning to form around JJ’s icy blue eyes, but again, the injury was minor.

John B was about to pull them back, but Kelce stopped him, “Rafe, Topper! Let’s go!” he yelled, attempting to retrieve the two boys from the fight. Luckily, Rafe and Topper listened to him.

“This isn’t over,” Rafe declared before Kelce forced him to leave the Cut.

When JJ and Pope walked back over to the three of you, Kie locked eyes with both of them, “Never do that again!”

“He was about to hurt Y/N!” Pope tried to reason with her.

“You think we’re just going to let Rafe Cameron get away with that?” JJ shot back, eyeing you.

You leaned into John B, placing your head into the crook of his neck, “I just want to head back to the château,” your words came out muffled, but he understood you. The next thing you knew, the five of you were piling up into the van, on your way to John B’s house.

When you arrived at the château, you went inside to wash your would of any salt water before rewrapping it. John B had followed you as the three others decided to stay on the front porch. When the door was shut, he spoke up, “Y/N?”

“Yes, JB?” you looked up and smiled.

“I, uh... I’ve had this crush on a girl for awhile now. I know this sounds so cliché, but every time she walks into the room my heart flutters, and her beautiful smile lights up the room. The thing is, I’m not very good at reading signals. What do you do when you like a girl and you want them to be your girlfriend?”

You swear you could feel your heart shatter in that moment; John B was in love with someone, and it wasn’t you. No matter how much it hurt, you turned to him and smiled, “Most girls like it when you’re honest to them. If you really like her, tell her. She’d be a lucky girl to have you, John B.”

He smiled, “I’m so lucky to have you as my best friend, Y/N. Thank you. I’m going to go call her now.” he kissed your cheek and rushed into his bedroom.

Not even 15 seconds later, your phone began to ring. You looked down to check the caller ID. It belonged to John B.

“Hello?” you answered, confused.

“Hey, Y/N. I, uh... I’m in love with you, and I just want to let you know that... well, I’m down if you ever want to be in love with me.” John B told you, his voice steady but full of nerves at the same time.

“Wait, John B... are you serious?” you asked, chuckling slightly.

“100 percent,” he whispered.

“Well, I guess you’d be happy to know that I’d be glad to fall in love with you.” you smiled, and you swear that you could hear the grin on John B’s face through the phone.

“I’m so glad. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to hang up and squeal like a little boy because I am so happy to get the girl of my dreams.”

“Okay, JB.” you laughed.

“You never heard that from me, though!”

a/n; this one was tough to write because i’m currently suffering through writer’s block, but i wanted to get an imagine out. i hate this ending but it’ll do. i have some pope requests, so those will come out next!

tags; @jjmaybnks @jjtheangel @maybankiara @jjouterbanks @jjmaybank @downbytheouterbankss @downbytheouterbanks @drewstarkey @supremestarkey @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @johnbroutledge @johnbsflowr @johnbstwinkie @kiespogues @heywards @jiaraforever

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[skiller0dani]

Briefly Mine | Timothee Chalamet

M A S T E R L I S T

smut | vampire au

part 2

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doesn’t he look like such a daddy in that gif? 🤤  

He’d moved in across the street nearly 3 weeks ago and neither you nor your sister had seen him leave the house once. The mysterious man across the street with a head of curly hair and eyes that were shrouded in darkness. You watched the house from out your bedroom window, the house sat a little ways up on a hill, surrounded by trees. He’d arrived late at night, wearing a dress shirt and tail coat- he dressed like he was from a different time. Even though you were sitting safely in your bedroom across the street, he turned and his eyes landed on you. Through the black of night, and the darkness of your bedroom his eyes landed right on you. You feel shudders running down your spine. You continued to search his house for any signs of movement, but not even the lights were on. The windows were dark, the door was always closed and he never leaves. You curiosity was eating you alive, you want to know what’s he’s up to in that big house. 

You sit at your bench window, a book you’re not reading perched in your lap as your eyes stay trained on the house across the street. Your sister always tells you that you’re too obsessed with the “creepy Hannibal Lecter’ that lives across the street. But you wouldn’t label this as an obsession you’re just...concerned. About your new neighbor. Who is ridiculously hot. And mysterious. You wrap a blanket around your shoulders as you see a shadow pass in front of one of the windows upstairs. “You should go to bed.” You hear a voice behind you and you squeal, jumping in your skin as you whirl around. Your heart is absolutely hammering against your chest as your eyes land on your Dad. “Dad what the hell, you scared the crap out of me!” You exclaim, a hand over your chest. Your Dad says nothing as he walks over to the window and yanks your curtains shut. “Go to bed, and stay away from him.” He orders, giving you a stern stare before turning out of your bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

You focus towards your curtains and take another peek, the house is still and looks empty. You can’t get the intensity in your Dad’s eyes or the gravely serious look on his face before he left your room. Does he know who that guy is? He certainly doesn’t seem to trust him, but as far as you’re concerned they’ve never met. Days pass in a blur, and you still sit at your bench window every night, observing the strange house across the street. Watching as nobody ever enters the house, or leaves it. Your eyes flicker to the overflowing mailbox of letters and you stand from your bench before heading to the door. You’re only being a nice neighbor and bringing him his mail. But when you reach for your door handle, it doesn’t turn. What the hell? Did your Dad lock the door? You turn back to your window before sliding it open and dropping onto the patio roof located perfectly in front of your bedroom window. 

As you make your way across the street, you feel your heart begin to pound in your chest as the house looms above you. Your palms tremble when your fingers secure a grip around the big stack of letters before heading up the driveway. Your hand is incredibly shaky as you knock against the wood, and you hear nothing but silence from the other side. You chew on the inside of your cheek nervously, he’s probably not going to answer. From within the house Timothee digs his nails into the wood of his dining table, your blood calls to him. You smell so good, he could smell you before you even crossed the street- living right across from someone who smells so delicious is a special kind of torture he did not prepare for. He can hear your heart pounding furiously in your chest, your nervous breaths growing louder. Timothee feels an aching in his gums and he squeezes his eyes shut to will his fangs to retract. But when his eyes snap open, they’re shining an emerald green and his fangs have fully extended as he turns for the door. 

Just as you begin to turn away you hear the lock on the inside of the door unbolt. You bite your lip nervously as the door is slowly pulled open to reveal easily the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. His eyes lock on yours and he looks perfectly collected as he stands behind the door. Upon seeing you, his fangs sink back up into his gums but he can still hear your blood pulsing in your veins. His curly hair is pushed back, with only one stray curl falling over his forehead. “Y-You didn’t get your mail...” You say nervously, stumbling over your words. You hold the mail out to him, and he gently takes it from you. When his fingers accidentally brush against you, you nearly jerk back from how icy cold his skin is. His skin is pale, it lacks the natural rosy color that skin normally has. If you didn’t know better, you’d say his skin lacks life. “Thank you.” He says, his voice smooth like honey and for a moment you just stand there and bathe in it. You want to say more but your voice gets caught in your throat as you look up into his green eyes. While he looks youthful in his face, his eyes look wise. Like they’ve seen more than his skin has, like they’ve witnessed more than the years he’s been alive. 

His eyes suddenly snap behind you and in an instant he’s grabbing you and pulling you into his house before swinging the door shut. You feel panic shoot through you as the door swings shut as you press your back against the door. “Your Father.” He explains in a calm voice and you nod slowly, still feeling fear coursing in your veins. Your breathing slows as you stare up at him, “do you know my Dad?” You ask him and he takes a step away from you. Touching you nearly sent him over the edge, he hasn’t fed in too long. But you make it impossible for him to leave his house, he grows intoxicated by your scent. You look so much like her, it leaves him breathless every single time he looks at you. But not even her scent was as delectable as yours, as luring, you are a Vampire’s biggest weakness. Your scent was potent, and your blood would be sugary sweet he’s sure of it. If he were to sink his fangs into you, he would drink your blood right down to the bone. He hates hurting people. “No.” He says simply, his eyes staying firmly off of you. 

“I’m Y/N,” You smile, but get no smile in return. You simply receive a curt nod as his hands fold behind his back, his palms are twitching. He’s not sure how much longer he can stay composed in your presence. “If your Father has returned inside, you can see yourself out.” He says, turning on his heel to disappear around the corner and as far from you as he can get in this house. “You’re not going to tell me your name?” You call after him just before he disappears from sight. He pauses, looking to be facing inner turmoil as he turns his head to look at you. “Timothee.” He says simply before continuing his coarse. Timothee. You smile to yourself, that name suits him incredibly well. Timothee collapses against his bedroom door, he shouldn’t have let you in- your scent is everywhere. It surrounds him again, like a blanket it smothers his senses. He reaches into a cooler he has in his room before quickly opening the lid of a jar, which has blood in it. It’s cows blood, it’s disgusting but it does satiate the thirst.  He drinks it greedily and slowly feels the agonizing thrumming of his senses easing. He doesn’t hear the door close, have you not left yet. Timothee inhales deeply, and sure enough your sweet fresh scent fills his nose once more. 

He returns down the stairs and sees you peering out the peep hole. “Why are you still here?” He asks and you turn to look at him, your eyes tracing over every detail of his perfectly smooth and blemish free face. “My Dad knows I left my room, I can see my bedroom light on.” You say sheepishly, you feel incredibly stupid at how overprotective your Dad is. He makes you feel like a child. His eyes stay on yours for a moment before Timothee is tearing his gaze away from yours. “He does not know you are here I take it?” He questions, that stupid perfect curl hanging on his forehead looks so soft. You want to run your fingers through his dark curls so badly. “He’d be furious. He specifically told me to stay away from you.” You admit and that doesn’t surprise Timothee in the slightest. Your Father is more well educated about the world than you are, he knows of the monsters and the shadows that wake in the night. Timothee really should have been more careful before carelessly moving into a house across the street from a hunter. 

“So then, why are you here?” Timothee asks, raising a brow as his eyes study you. You freeze under his questioning gaze as you stay planted firmly in front of the door. “You didn’t get your mail...” You say unconvincingly with a blush on your face. Timothee has a small smile on his face as he watches you from a safe distance. “You disobeyed your Father, and risked making him furious with you just so you could bring me my mail?” He asks and you blush harder. All you can do is nod as you continue looking into his mesmerizing eyes. Timothee doesn’t know what to make of you, he is however concerned for your safety. Curiosity can lead to danger. If Timothee were a complete monster like some of his Vampire Brethren, he would have drank you dry and dumped your body by now. He tries not to hurt people however, but your curiosity may certainly lead you into trouble. “Curiosity can be quite dangerous,” He comments off hand as you check out the peep hole again. Your Dad tells you the same thing, but he can be really overbearing. “We all live to die someday anyway, what’s the point in not seeking out answers when you don’t understand something.” You reply and he pauses. Not everything that walks this Earth lives to die. 

“Come with me.” Timothee says and turns, leading towards a back door of the house. He opens it and steps outside, and you follow him around the back of the house towards the far end of the street. You slowly slink to the fence of your yard and he holds out his hand, stopping you when you go to walk again. To the left of the spot you’ve ducked in, you see shadows pass in front of your living room window. Timothee keeps his hand out as his eyes stay trained on the window, and for some reason that you don’t understand- you feel safe with him. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, being around so many humans is usually far too tempting for him. You don’t realize the danger you’re in, Timothee is sure your Father loves you but if you discovered the existence of Vampires? He fears what your Father would do then. Once Timothee hears them move away from the window the two of you slink under it towards the gate going to your backyard where the patio roof is, just beneath your window. 

You feel adrenaline coursing through you as you follow him to the roof, where you can still see your window slightly open. Timothee approaches the patio and hauls himself on top of the roof before reaching an arm down to you. You take his hand and he lifts you onto the roof with ease, and your eyes widen in surprise. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. You can’t shake how the icy feel of his skin sinks to your bone, why is he always so cold? You reach for your window but Timothee grabs you and yanks you to the side, out of view just as your Dad slams into your bedroom again. Your Mom follows shortly after, “just relax she’s fine-” She starts but your Dad whirls around to look at her. “Fine? If she’s over at that damn blood suckers house, she could be dead already!” Your Dad exclaims in exasperation. Blood sucker? You glance over your shoulder at Timothee, who has an almost sad expression on his face. His eyes flicker down to meet yours and his pupils dilate before he pulls his gaze from yours. 

Once you’re stood safely in your room again, Timothee turns to leave when you hear footsteps down the hallway. Before the door opens, TImothee slides into your closet, pressing his back to the wall as the door flies open against the wall. “Where the hell were you?” Your Dad snaps as he glares down at you, you’ve never seen him this angry before. “I went for a walk! I would have gone out the front but you locked me in my damn room like a prisoner.” You snap, and he releases a breath before stepping towards you. His eyes scan over your body, focusing on your neck and wrists. “Did you go see him?” He asks in a low voice and your eyebrows raise. Your Dad glares down at you and you feel your heart race, “no I didn’t see anybody.” You say softly, looking fearfully up into your Dad’s eyes. Your Dad’s serious expression drops as he gently presses a kiss to your head before turning to leave the room. “Good, stay away from him. I mean it.” 

When he shuts the door you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Timothee emerges from his hiding spot. “Why doesn’t my Dad want me around you?” You ask him as soon as you hear the footsteps down the stairs. Timothee remains silent as he moves towards your window, “please answer me.” You plead softly as his hands lift the window up further. He pauses before glancing over his shoulder and the sight you see steals the breath right from your lungs. His eyes are glowing a neon emerald color and his canine teeth have grown twice their normal length. “Because I’m different. Don’t seek me out again.” He warns before he’s out the window. 

The following weeks, Timothee plagued your every thought, both waking and sleeping. You felt like you’d been thrusted into some crappy Twilight fanfiction, because seriously? Vampires? There was something about him, something that kept you wanting more. You wanted to be near him all the time, being around him made you feel alive. You thought of his beautiful eyes piercing through yours as he pushed into you, or those pink lips pressing against your inner thighs. You thought of all the wonderfully dirty things he’d say to you with that smooth voice of his, the way he would use his words to coax you to an orgasm. You spent many nights with your hand down the front of your shorts, picturing his fingers inside you instead of your own. You threw your head back into your pillow, your fingers pushing inside you as you closed your eyes and pictured his head between your thighs. You wondered if he’d be a delicate lover? Full of romance and passion? Or a rough lover? Full of anger and pent up tension? You bit your lip to silence yourself when you began thumbing your clit. 

Timothee’s fists curled in on themselves as he took steady breathes to calm his heart rate. It’s time like this that he really curses his heightened senses because right now he can hear your soft groans of his name, and he can smell your arousal. “Fuck Timothee,”  He can hear you whimpering under your breath, begging for him- for his cock. He can barely take anymore. Timothee licks his lips as his mouth waters for your blood and your cum. His hard on presses against his jeans tightly and he reaches down to gently palm himself to attempt and relieve some of the tension. He’s so hard it’s actually beginning to ache. He so desperately wants those whimpers of pleasure coming from your lips to be his doing. He wants to hear you cry out his name and drag your nails down his back. Never has his desire for a human being been so strong before he met you. “Fuck,” Timothee groans under his breath as he listens to you cum around your fingers. He can hear your soft panting, he can smell the heavy sweet scent of your arousal, he can practically feel your heart racing. Timothee listens to the sound of your bed squeaking as you stand, and he hears the taps of your fingers against your phone screen. “I need to cum around a cock so badly, hopefully Evan is still up.”  He hears you mutter to yourself and Timothee is launching up from his bed in a second. 

You scroll through your phone to find Evan’s contact when you hear a gentle tapping against your bedroom window. When you pull the curtains open, the sight of Timothee standing by your window, breathing heavily surprises you. You open your window and as soon as you do, he’s got you pushed up against the wall. “Gonna call Evan huh? Wanna cum around his cock instead of mine?” He husks in your ear, and suddenly it feels like your entire body is on fire. Your phone slips from your hand and lands against the floor with a thud as Timothee traps your hands above your head. “Driving me fucking crazy, every single night I have to sit there and act like I don’t hear you begging for me.” Timothee groans, grinding his crotch up into yours. Up until this point he’s done his absolute best to stay away from you, who he is, the lifestyle he leads, it’s too dangerous for you. Humans who get close to him all end up the same way: as nothing more than blood and bones. “Y-You can hear me?” You whisper, breathless. Timothee’s lips brush over your ear as his hands still hold your arms above your head. “I can hear everything. I can smell your arousal, so wet on your thighs for me.” He growls, an animalistic tone in is voice. 

“Don’t you know how dangerous it is for you to get close to someone like me? For you to want someone like me?” Timothee breathes into your ear, his voice serious and strained as he desperately tries to hold himself back. “What’s life without a little risk?” You challenge, looking into his eyes when he pulls his head back to look at you. Your eyes lock for a few torturous minutes before he slowly releases you. “This isn’t the fun kind of risk Y/N, this is the kind of risk that could get you killed.” He says, turning to face away from you. You approach him from behind, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder. “Not if you make me like you.” You whisper and he turns, a look of pure fear in his eyes as he lets what you said sink in. “No, absolutely not! You don’t want this, you don’t want me. You don’t know me Y/N,” He stammers, the panic in his eyes building. You cock an eyebrow as you sit back on your bed. “I don’t want you? I’m pretty sure you can still smell how wet I am Timothee.” You purr, your voice sultry as you gaze up at him. 

Timothee’s pupils blow wide open when you spread your thighs, and move your tiny little sleep shorts to the side- revealing your soaked pussy. “I don’t want to hurt you. Once I start, I don’t know if I can stop.” Timothee chokes out, using what’s left of his self control to hold himself back. Your fingers move to your clit, so swollen and practically begging for attention. You begin to rub small circles into your clit as you look him in the eyes, “if you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t have come over here. And if I thought I couldn’t handle it, then I wouldn’t have been moaning your name.” You whisper, a whine escaping your mouth after you finish speaking. Timothee hovers over you, pushing your back into the mattress as his wild eyes bore into yours. “I’ll only do this under one condition; you never ask to be turned again.” He says, and you can tell he’s serious about this. Your hands slide up his chest and grip his shoulders, “I won’t.” You promise and that’s all he needs before his lips are pressed against yours with a bruising force. His hips grind down into yours and you moan into his mouth. 

“Now you’re gonna have to be really quiet baby mkay? Wouldn’t want Daddy to catch us.” He says, his eyes looking down into yours. Your core heats up as you nod, biting your lip. “Yes Daddy.” You smile when you hear his soft groan at the name. But he raises a brow at you, “he’s not Daddy, you are.” You whisper against his lips. Timothee’s hand slides under your shorts as he ghosts his fingers over your lips, “you’re goddamn right I am.” He growls as his lips press against your collarbones. He can hear your heartbeat under your skin and can feel your pulse on his lips but he focuses on his hard cock to control the blood lust. You whine softly as you try to grind your hips against his hand, but every time you move Timothee moves his hand away. Finally you stop moving and wait impatiently for him to touch you while your pulse pounds in your core. Finally he slides 2 fingers inside you and a cry begins to leave your lips before his hand presses over your mouth. “You have to be quieter than that baby, don’t make me gag you.” Timothee threatens in a low voice, but the thought of him fucking you while you’re gagged causes you to moan softly against his hand. Timothee begins to slowly finger you, and you whine in annoyance against his hand. 

He keeps his hand over your mouth as he slowly picks up his pace, and he feels his lust rising. Timothee knows his eyes are glowing as he watches you come apart at his touch, and right as you near cumming he slows his pace again, fingering you agonizingly slowly. Tears of frustration from the denied orgasms spring in your eyes as you begin to wriggle underneath him. The slow teasing touches and edging is making you throb, you can’t take anymore. When Timothee removes his hand from your mouth he replaces it with his mouth as he begins to finger you at a quick pace. You begin to pant into his mouth as your body arches up into him, and you feel the heat building and building in your stomach. You feel yourself on the edge of cumming and your arms wrap around his shoulder, and as you begin to fear Timothee will edge you again, he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, watching as you cum underneath him and gush around his fingers. He gently fingers you through your orgasm before pulling you up to your knees on the mattress. You’re panting when he desperately pushes you to the ground on your knees and you immediately begin scrambling to unbuckle his belt. 

You yank his pants and boxers down and you hear him hiss in relief as his cock springs free. Timothee winds his hand through your hair and pulls your mouth on his cock, forcing your head down until his tip pushes against the back of your throat. You relax your jaw as he begins to thrust into your mouth, using you only for his pleasure- which you are totally okay with. You see his emerald eyes glowing brighter as you reach down to cup his balls. You love watching him lose control, it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever had the privileged to witness. “Fuck, you suck my cock so good baby.” He groans softly as he continues to thrust harshly into your throat. Saliva drools down your chin and tears run down your face, and he loves seeing you like this. On your knees crying from his cock down your throat. When Timothee feels tingles going down his cock he pulls you off him, he can’t cum in your mouth he needs to cum inside you. 

He immediately pulls you up and rips your shorts from your body as he bends you over the bed. When the head of his cock presses into you, you stop him. “Condom?” You ask breathless and he chuckles. “Baby, technically I’m dead. I can’t get anybody pregnant.” He growls before sliding into you. You cry out against the mattress as you feel yourself stretch around him. “I thought I said you needed to be quiet hm?” Timothee says, and you hear a tearing sound. “M’sorry Daddy.” You whimper moments before he’s tying a piece of torn t-shirt around your mouth. “Now I have to gag you because you didn’t listen.” Timothee growls before he begins to pound into you, and you feel a sharp sting every time his pelvis hits yours. Your moans and cries of pleasure are muffled by the makeshift gag as your fingers curl around your bed sheets. You hang on as he continues to slam into you, being pushed up roughly against the bed. “God baby you feel so good around my cock, so fuckin’ tight.” Timothee groans as he reaches down to flip you over, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. “Evan could never,” he snaps his hips into you, “ever,” he slams against you again, “fuck you like this.” Timothee groans, his thumb moving down to press against your clit. 

Your hands reach up to grab at his shoulders and wind around him, holding him tightly to you. Timothee continues you thrust into you, and when he feels you begin to squeeze around him he knows you’re close to cumming. You sob against the gag, the pleasure coursing through you beginning to overwhelm you. When Timothee presses down hard on your clit and slams into your g-spot, you’re exploding around his cock. Your head is thrown back as you nearly black out, you’re so fucked out you almost miss him coming in hot spurts inside you. Slowly, Timothee reaches down to pull the gag over your head and you both sit there and regain your breathing. He stays inside you as his cock softens, and you pull him down to sweetly kiss him on the lips. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides out of you, reaching down to find his pants. “Are you leaving?” You ask, the pain in your voice unmissable. Seeing the hurt look on your face, he gives in and slides into bed beside you. “i don’t really sleep yknow.” He informs you and you roll your eyes and you place your head on his chest. “That’s okay, I do. So please just hold me until I fall asleep?” You ask him with pleading eyes and he nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

After your breathing evens out, Timothee gently pries you off of him before reaching to find a pen and paper. He scribbles down a short message before leaving it on your nightstand. He finishes getting dressed before disappearing out your window. Timothee doesn’t want to do this, he really doesn’t but it’s not safe for you to be around him. Sooner or later your Dad will find out, and he’ll either lock you away somewhere, or kill Timothee. He knows you care about him, and he wouldn’t want to put you through the pain of watching him die. It’s just better if he leaves town, start over somewhere new. To keep you safe, and he can only pray that when you wake up...you’ll understand. 

When the sun rises the next morning, you didn’t expect Timothee to still be laying beside you. Because your Dad would probably try to drive a wooden stake through his heart. You roll over to where he previously was laying when a little white piece of paper catches your eye. You grab it, with a smile on your face but that smile quickly fades. 

Y/N, 

By the time you read this I will have already left town. Being near me will hurt you, and I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. I will never forget the night we shared, and I know I’ll never forget you. You made me feel alive again.

Always Yours, 

-T.C.

Tears wet your cheeks as you desperately clutch the piece of paper in your hands. You scramble out of bed and throw clothes on before you’re rushing down your stairs and out the front door. The house looks as vacant as it always does, so you hope against hope that maybe he was just lying to keep you safe. Maybe he was still there, maybe he didn’t leave. You pound your fist against the door, not even caring if your Dad catches you. “Timothee!” You cry out, continuing to knock on the door. When you don’t receive an answer you scramble to the back door, and reach down under a rock for a spare key. Much to your delight, you actually find one and quickly throw open the door. “Timothee!” You call out again, your heart sinking in your chest as silence is the only response you receive. You rush up the stairs and throw open his bedroom door, to find his room empty. You begin looking in his dresser drawers, all empty. You look in his closet, which is also empty. You collapse on the bed, tears wetting your cheeks when you spot another paper. 

Y/N

I figured you’d probably come here looking for me, and yes I really am gone. Don’t try to find me, I’ve been in hiding for centuries. I’m good at it, and trust me when I say it’s better this way. I can live happy, knowing you’re safe- you should try to do the same. Thank you for being briefly mine, as I will be forever yours.

Goodbye sweetheart. 

T.C.

You hold it to your chest and cry, you know he won’t come back. You want to believe it’s better this way, but how could this be better when you hurt so much? You lay down on his bed, tears wetting the comforter as you try to hold on to those notes, they’re all you have left of him. 

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