#source: i am in my twenties and everything is horrible all the time :)

[leofrith]

assassin's creed is very realistic actually because almost all the protagonists are in their young adult years for the majority of their games while going through the worst times imaginable

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // twenty-two

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is the last part of s2!! ahh i am so excited for s3 and i hope you guys too after this part :)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

When you come to, the air is cold on your skin and it's mostly dark. You groan, feeling the sway of someone carrying you very quickly.

"Hey, love. Hey..." Coryo says, noticing you stirring in his arms. "We're almost home. Hold on, I'm gonna get you some water."

"O-okay..." You agree, reaching up to rub your eyes so you can better see where you are. It's still nighttime, and you're outside. Looking up, the stars have filled the clear sky.

Coryo looks down at you, and then up. "The stars are beautiful. You were right." He tells you and you smile.

"I know." You whisper. "I'm glad you got to see them."

"Me too."

You almost fell asleep in his arms on the way back to their house. You didn't ask why they didn't take you home- part of you didn't want to know. Every time you caught yourself trying to piece together what happened before you fainted, your heart rate increased again. It wasn't good- that was all you knew.

Sejanus opens the door and Coryo is quick to lay you in his bed, kissing you on the forehead and giving you a bottle of water before quickly leaving. You can hear him and Sejanus talking, but you can't make out what they're saying. It sounds like Sejanus is crying.

You want to get up and help, but you are just so tired. You end up falling asleep.

Coryo didn't sleep at all all night. He tried after getting Sejanus to finally go to bed he came and laid with you, but it was no use. What would they do with you? They couldn't just leave you here- whatever history you and Cole had would no doubt come to light very critically in the fallout of his death. He didn't know if anyone had seen you go in or seen you there that night. After the games, it would be so easy to point the finger at you and call you dangerous and insane.

The bottom line of his decision: he couldn't leave you behind in Twelve.

He had a tentative plan, and you didn't have much of a choice if you wanted to live, but the hard part would be convincing you to come back to the Capitol. Well, convincing your whole family to let you come back to the Capitol.

He waited as long as he could before he had to wake you up, getting up and packing all his things while Sejanus did the same. You looked so peaceful, so untouched by everything horrible that has happened to you in your short life. You didn't know he was about to ruin your life again.

Carefully, when he knew you didn't have another moment more to spare, he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you. "Y/N/N?" He whispers, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Love, you have to wake up. I'm sorry."

You hum in your sleep, rolling onto your back. Your eyes open, only slightly, and you smile. "Hi..." You mumble, trying to untangle your hands from the sheets to rub your eyes.

"Morning..." Coryo smiles slightly. You're so beautiful. It's almost easier for him to just scoop you up and bring you with him just like that- sleepy and untroubled. How he ever imagined leaving without you by his side he didn't know.

"What time is it?" You ask, voice raspy from having just woken up.

"Just past three, but we need to get moving. I'm so sorry, love."

You push yourself up, still rubbing at your eyes. "What? It's so early. What's going on?"

Coryo sighs, running a hand over his jaw. "Let's... Let's get you something to eat and then I'll explain, okay?"

You nod, yawning and he stands as you throw your legs over the side of the bed.

"Oh- oh my god." You mumble, quickly standing up from the old chair at their dining table. Coryo and Sejanus look at each other nervously.

"I didn't know that would happen, I didn't even know they were using the money to buy guns." Sejanus defends himself and you nod, hands placed over your face.

"I know." You reply, voice muffled by your hands. "I just... oh my god. I thought it was a nightmare. I thought I was just having another nightmare I-"

"I know, but it's okay. You're gonna be okay."

"His sword, death's stamp, where it did mark, it took. From face to foot he was a thing of blood, whose every motion was timed with dying cries..." You mumble to yourself, pacing now. "Deaths stamp. The reckoning."

Sejanus looks at his friend as you ramble, eyes wide.

"Y/N?" Coryo tries to grab your attention, but with how quickly you were clearly spiraling he didn't want to touch you. "None of what happened was your fault or ours. There is nothing we could have done."

"I know, I know, I know but I can't stop it either everything is falling apart and I am killing everyone and who is next?"

"No, hey, you didn't kill anyone. No one is next." He assures you quickly. "They can't charge anyone if they can't find the guns, no one can prove we were even there. We just have to act as if nothing happened."

You nod, shaking out your hands and trying to breathe. "Okay, yes. Yes." You press your hands onto your chest, clocking your heart rate. A panic attack wouldn't help. "I am having a panic attack." You state, looking toward the two of them.

Sejanus doesn't say anything, but looks quickly between you and Coryo.

"I know, love." Coryo replies. "But you're going to be okay. We're safe here, but we need to get moving so we have to relax. Okay?"

You take a deep breath in through your nose, closing your eyes. Everything is okay. You can't panic now, it will only make everything worse.

"I'm calm. I'm calm." You tell yourself, but it isn't working. Coryo chews his cheek. He still hasn't even told you that you'll need to come with them.

"What was that joke you told me? From that book?" Coryo asks, trying to distract you. "I think Sejanus would like it, would you mind telling him?"

"'I can see he is not in your good books' The messenger said," You recite mechanically. "No, and if he were I would burn my library.'" You furrow your brow, shaking your head. "No, that wasn't it. It was the one about Benedick and his horse."

"Yes, the horse." Coryo chuckles, trying to help you down. "Although, that is funny too."

"Okay, okay." You nod, taking another big gulping breath. "In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature."

You finish, and Coryo smacks Sejanus's arm when all he does is give you a confused look, trying to track what is meant to be a joke.

Sejanus looks at him and Coryo nods toward you. "Oh! That... yes, that's very funny." Sejanus chuckles nervously.

"She's saying that you can't tell him from his horse because he's just about as smart as it." You explain, knowing he wouldn't have understood. "Well, he would be if she didn't let him keep one of his wits."

And just like that, you're breathing almost normally.

"Feeling better?" Coryo asks, approaching you carefully.

You swallow and nod. "Yes. Thank you." He takes your hand in his, gently rubbing the back of it under his thumb.

"Okay, now, this is the hard part."

You had agreed through tears. The idea of even setting foot in the Capitol again almost set you off, but you made it through. You knew it would be hard, terrifying even, but you would have Coryo, and that would help.

The three of you made your way back to your house in the dark, preparing for you to pack up your whole life in order to move in a matter of hours.

You sneak inside, closing the door quietly behind the three of you.

"Just wait in the living room." You whisper. "I'll start packing."

"Y/N, honey, is that you?" Your dad's voice shocks you, and your eyes shoot over to the clock. He hadn't yet left for work.

"Pa?" You walk into the living room where he is sitting, having his morning coffee.

"What were you doing out so late? Did you have fun?" He asks, and then his eyes go past you to the boys. "Oh, hello. Can't say we were expectin' company this early. Or late, I suppose, for you guys."

Your lip starts to quiver as you walk over to the couch. "What's wrong?" Your dad frowns, eyes back on you now as he puts his coffee down quickly, reaching out to rub your arms. "Did something happen?" He looks over to the boys, but they don't dare move.

"Pa..." You cry, sitting down next to him and he pulls you into a hug.

"Honey, what happened?" He frowns, holding you close. You wouldn't see him for so long, and it was breaking your heart.

"I..." You sniff, quickly running over your agreed story. "I'm leaving."

"Leaving? You don't need to go, you're safe here, Honey..."

You look up at him, trying to smile. "Can you get Ma? I need to talk to you both." You say, chin still wobbling with tears.

"Okay, stay right here. I'll get her." He promises, getting up and patting your head.

"Can... can you guys wait outside?" You whisper and both Coryo and Sejanus quickly nod, passing you to wait out back.

"What's happening, Y/N/N?" Your mom asks, brow furrowed as she pulls her housecoat tight around herself. "Are you okay?"

You nod, swallowing as you refresh yourself on the story you came up with. Your parents sit down, all eyes on you. "I..." You start, but you can't get it out without a sob. "I have to go back to the Capitol."

"What?" Your dad asks, brow furrowed as your mom already begins to cry. "They can't take you back, you won. Fair and square, you're home now."

"They aren't." You shake your head. "Coryo helped me apply to the university there and I was accepted. Our train leaves in a few hours."

Both your parents stare at you, absolutely in shock.

"I... What?" Your father asks again and you nod.

"Yes." You laugh slightly.

"But... You can't go, where will you stay? We can't afford any kind of school or even the food there." Your father shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I know you're happy and this is amazing but... that just won't work."

You shake your head again. "No, we thought of that. I'll stay with Coryo, and he will cover my tuition." This wasn't a lie, that's how he talked you into it, in fact- though you hadn't wanted to accept.

"Look, it won't be all bad. You can come to school with us, get an education. It'll be so good for you and your family." Coryo says, holding your hands between his own. "You can stay with me, I'll pay for everything with money from the prize. You gave it to me, anyways. I owe you that much."

"I can't take that from you... I can't leave them."

"I owe it to you, love. Besides, it's not forever." He promises. "You can come visit, and we'll pay for them to get a phone installed so you can call whenever you'd like. They even have these really nice ones with cameras, we'll get you one of those."

"The school won't take me, I don't have a Capitol degree." You sniff.

"Of course they will- everyone there loves you. They know how smart you are. You'll just have to do some testing first, and then you can major in whatever you like. Even literature."

"I can?"

"Of course you can. Whatever you want to do, anything in the world."

"What are you taking?" You ask, wiping your eyes.

"Political Science."  He answers. "But you could do... art history, creative writing, journalism, anything you want, love. Hell, you could even take mathematics if that's what you want." Coryo smiles, squeezing your hands. "You'll change your family's lives, and we can be together."

"Oh, honey..." Your mother cries, pulling you into her arms.

"He said we'll get you a phone, a nice one with a camera and I can call every day." You tell them through your tears, hugging her back. "And then I'll come back for you, with my shiny new education and neither of you will ever have to work again if you don't want to."

"I... I don't know what to say." Your father admits.

You laugh slightly, leaning into your mother's arms. "I don't either... I don't know."

You laughed and cried together, but you knew you couldn't tell them why you really had to leave on such short notice. They had to be happy for you to let you go without fear. Knowing anything about the truth would put their lives at risk. You cried harder when your father had to leave for work not long later; it would be a long time before you would see him again.

"Well." Your mom takes a deep breath in after a few minutes of your father being gone. "We better get you packed." She pushes herself up, and you join her.

"Ma." You stop her as she goes to make her way to the kitchen, no doubt to put on some tea for the process.

She turns, looking at you expectantly with reddened eyes.

"Lennox is going to hate me, isn't he?"

She frowns, pulling you into another hug. "No, honey. Never." She shushes you. "He may not like it at first, but he loves you so much. He could never hate you."

"You promise?"

"Of course, honey. Don't you think on it for even a minute. He'll miss you, but we'll be waitin' on you to come home. We'll be right here." She assures you. "And we are so proud. Don't worry about us, okay?"

"Parting is such sweet sorrow." You sniff, laughing slightly against her shoulder.

"This time, it is." She chuckles. "Now, let those boys back in and we can get moving. We don't want you to miss that train."

Somehow, you managed to pack everything up without waking your brother. You don't know if that was a good thing or not.

The sun began to rise as you made your way to the train station. Sejanus hadn't said a word since you left their temporary home.

"Y/N." Coryo whispers, and you look up at him. He's carrying one of your bags along with his, while you focus on the makeshift carrier in your arms that contains your cat. "When we get up there, let me do the talking."

You just nod, swallowing back another wave of tears. The guilt you felt was immeasurable, especially now that you allowed yourself to be excited. What if you did get into their school? Your whole life was about to change, but this time, hopefully for the better. But if it was all because of the deaths of three more District kids, how dare you think it may be worth it. Even if Mayfair was vile and Billy Taupe had an insatiable habit of cheating on Lucy Gray.

Lucy Gray. You didn't even say goodbye to Lucy Gray.

She wouldn't handle his death well, you knew that. You would have to write her immediately. Maybe that's what you would do on the train.

You would miss her greatly, but she would understand. Same as your parents, she would be proud. And you'd tell her about their phone and you could call her anytime you wanted as well. It would all be okay.

The train was heavily guarded by peacekeepers- though it was likely less so than usual. All the others were probably out already searching for the guns that killed the Mayor's daughter as well as a peacekeeper. It was unlikely they cared about Billy Taupe. You wish you could have warned your family that peacekeepers may come knocking, but the less they knew the better.

When you see Lucy Gray standing back against the building, looking out seemingly for the boys, your heart feels heavier in your chest. You don't say anything to them before you run up to her. You call her name and she turns, smiling at you.

"Hi, Hun. I wanted you to come say goodbye with me but I couldn't find ya last night, you weren't home when I came by after the show or this morning. I was worried."

"Oh, sorry. I slept over at theirs." You nod back to the boys as they approach behind you.

She smiles, but something in it is sad. Her eyes are puffy, clearly she had been crying. It was about Billy Taupe, no doubt.

"Y/N, I got something to tell you." She says quietly, and you tilt your head at her. "Last night..." Her eyes well up with tears again. "Last night Billy Taupe was murdered. He was shot, at the Hob. And Cole was too. I'm so sorry."

Coryo just catches the tail end of it, stepping in next to you and carefully watching your reaction. Or, what you thought your reaction was supposed to be.

You're quickly handing your bag off to Coryo and pulling her into your arms. "Oh- I'm so sorry, Lucy Gray... I'm so sorry."

Coryo and Sejanus look at each other as she cries in your arms.

"I was mad at him... I was so mad at him and I never got to say that I'm sorry."

"I know... God, honey I'm so sorry." You rub her back as you speak, focussing purely on comforting her. You had been close with him too. You don't know if Lennox knows yet, but you know he will be devastated. Just because Billy Taupe was an awful boyfriend to her at times didn't mean he wasn't still like family. "Don't beat yourself up about it, okay? It's not your fault. He knows you love him, okay? He knows."

She sniffs and you can feel her nod against your shoulder. "Love is immortality." You tell her quietly, kissing the side of her head.

"Y/N." Coryo says, hating to interrupt but the train wouldn't wait for you.

"I know." You reply, nodding as you pull away and take her hands in yours. "Lucy Gray, I am so sorry but I have to go."

"Go?" She looks at the boys behind you and the bags they're holding, there are several more than what they had arrived with. "You're going with them?" Her voice breaks and you nod, swallowing back tears.

"Coryo helped me apply to the university and they accepted me. Classes start in a couple of weeks." You lie, you couldn't find it in your heart to tell her you were there when Billy Taupe was killed.

She looks confused, squeezing your hands tight. "I... why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to wait until we knew for sure. His cousin called last night and said the letter arrived, and it would have been so embarrassing if I didn't get in. I wish I could have told you sooner."

"You could tell me anything. You shouldn't have been embarrassed." She frowns, shaking her head. "I wish I had known- we could have had a goodbye party or something I just feel like you shouldn't be leaving just like this."

"It's okay, I don't need a party. You know that." You smile.

"I know." She sighs. "Well... I'm proud of you. I'm so proud of you. This is amazing."

"Thank you." You laugh slightly, realizing that the tears you were trying to hold back had started to fall. "I love you so much, I'll write you all every day and we're getting my house a phone so you'll be able to call too."

"Okay. We'll talk every day." Lucy Gray nods, sniffing. "I love you, Y/N." You give her another hug.

"It was so good to meet you, Lucy Gray. Thanks for everything." Coryo says as you let her go again. You take your bag back from him so he can hug her. "And I'm sorry about your friend..."

"Thank you... and of course, it was lovely to have some new faces here. I hope you'll come back sometime." She grins, wiping her eyes again as she pulls away.

When she looks at Sejanus who had been awfully quiet this whole time, you gently pull on Coryo's arm. "Let's give them a minute." You whisper and he nods, following you away. You can't look back, if you look at her again you aren't sure you'll be able to board the train at all.

"Excuse me." Coryo approaches the peacekeeper stationed by one of the train cars, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket. "My friend and I have tickets, back to The Capitol."

The peacekeeper takes it, looking it over. "You live there?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why did you come to Twelve?"

"Oh, our friend Y/N lives here. We came to get her, she is coming back with us." He explains, flashing a charming smile as he looks back over at you.

"There's only two tickets here, and neither of them has her name on them."

"Yes, so, we were hoping she could just tag along. She won't take up much room."

"No. District personnel can't just go to the Capitol, you should know better."

"I do, yeah." Coryo nods. "But maybe you'd recognize her, that's Y/N Y/L/N, Victor of the tenth annual Hunger Games. I was her mentor. Under the circumstances we were hoping you'd make an exception- we haven't been able to call home about her ticket but they need her back there. It's a new thing, they want to do a Victory tour, some interviews- that kind of thing. They're trying lots of new stuff this year."

The peacekeeper looks past him and eyes you skeptically. You smile, giving a slight wave as Tybalt squirms in the carrier. "Good morning, officer. How are you?"

"What's in the bag?" He asks, returning his attention to Coryo and completely ignoring your question.

"See, she really wanted to bring her cat. Since the games he's been a real comfort to her, Dr. Gaul, head of the war department and head gamemaker, said that the cat wouldn't be an issue as long as he's kept inside. He'll be an indoor cat only, officer."

"No animals." He shakes his head. "She can go, but a cat isn't necessary cargo."

"Okay, well..." Coryo sighs, looking back at you. You can see the panic shift in his eyes. There was no time to take Tybalt home, and you weren't going to set him loose here. Either Tybalt comes, or neither of you do, and that was hardly an option.

"Here," Sejanus mumbles as he rejoins you, digging in his pocket and walking past you and up to them. "No cat." He hands the peacekeeper a wad of cash so thick that it makes your eyes widen.

The officer chuckles, tucking the money into his own pocket. "No cat." He agrees. "Enjoy your ride."

Coryo smiles at you and motions for you to join him, helping you up the stairs onto the train with a hand on your back while you take another last look at the city you love so deeply.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[transsexualhamlet]

ok girl this is for the thang. I know you haven't read yuumori in over a year but do liam for 13 & 23, hannibal for 20 & 27 n atsushi for 3 & 24 have fun!

answering this because i now have reblogged the ask game a second time... i forgor

ask game

Liam:

13. Your favorite friendship they have

Can I say him and Bond because I know they have barely spoken to each other in canon but in my mind they are besties and Bond tells Liam to "slay" and he gets all teary eyed and looks at his sword and bond is like IM SORRY

23. Future headcanon

Yeah the thing about this is that I'm not super caught up on the manga and the last chapter I read had barely started the current arc. So I'm not sure what's going on or what the situation even is but I sure do know the faggots live together. I think they just kind of safely fade into obscurity exactly how they want to except for when sherlock is a fucking attention whore but well, if they've made up their minds to live in fuckin america (sigh) when they're middle aged and prohibition is going on and there's a whole gay scene and everything I think they do VERY well for themselves. Liam will be just a well behaved little guy at the underground gay bar and sherlock will just drop "oh yeah liam used to kill people way back when it was pretty hot. you know how it is with [insert zodiac sign]" and twenty people and the drag king singing will go WHAT

Hannibal:

20. A weird headcanon

I think Hannibal gets invited to the Met Gala. Once. They do not appreciate his dedication to the craft and the theme by sewing a "flower suit" exclusively out of 1600s silks gotten by bribing museums and ethically sourced human skin from hospitals which is actively growing, you have to admit, really stunning flowers. They do not invite him again yet somehow this garners absolutely no suspicion

27. If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet?

I forgot this was for hannibal and was about to answer I would love to see liam meet light yagami because it would be HORRIBLE however this is in fact hannibal and I can actually be serious. god hmm. I honestly think I need to see him meet Melkor? It would be. A very interesting experience. I am imagining him smiling sitting cross legged at a fancy table inside of a comically large cage as Melkor studies him like a bug and watches as the bloodied and beaten corpses he shoves in get magically transformed into five course meals. Needless to say I think they would hit it off disgustingly well. And even if it didn't, Hannibal is just too hard to torture because he'll just be into it. Good situation for Hannibal no matter what like? Get to have a thoughtful correspondence with a spiteful, gory eldritch mass of a god for the low low price of Mairon poking at you like a dead animal a little bit

Atsushi:

3. A song that reminds me of them

Pinkish by Gerard Way and Sorry About Your Parents by Icon For Hire. The former because god. I really don't know how to explain it I have emotions. It's kind of about him and Akutagawa and it's kind of just about him and himself. And Sorry About Your Parents is just yeah that ones about Akutagawa lmao.

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

Atsushi once accidentally witnessed Dazai sucking Fyodor off and well. Couldn't bring himself to bring it to the attention of the ADA because well how fucking could you . How would you bring that up. He's decided he just needs to stay silent forever

[theringers]

august - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part ten

summary: "august sipped away like a bottle of wine, 'cause you were never mine"

warnings: this shit is sad

3 years later

You walked hand and hand with your son down the streets of Monaco. It was his first day of preschool and you were nothing short of emotional. “Mommy, stop crying!” He kept shouting at you as you walked. You bent down to him.

“Mommy can’t help it. You’re such a big boy now.” You walked past a newsstand and saw the headlines on the tabloids in bold red. “Formula One Driver and Wife Divorce”. Well, that was a familiar headline.

You took a few steps closer to see the faces in the photo. It was your husband’s career after all. Your son complained as you dragged him closer to the newsstand.

The subheading read in smaller font. “Pierre and Anna Gasly finalize divorce just days after filing”. No way. It was a quick divorce with little to no proceedings. He wanted out and he wanted out bad.

More tears fell, but this time it was for a different reason.

He finally left her. The poor guy suffered long enough, doing everything possible to make her happy and him getting absolutely nothing in return. You were hoping he could now find true love and happiness with someone other than the horrible woman he married. To replace you.

It had been almost three years since you spoke to Pierre. Anna’s threat stuck with you and you couldn’t break the promise you made. Not at the expense of your family. Especially while you were celebrating the birth of your son. Little Jamie was the joy of your lives. He came much earlier than expected but was fully grown and healthy. He popped out with a full head of hair as well, a dirty blonde just like his daddy.

The first few months were brutal, to say the least. He never stopped crying. No matter what you did, the loud wails never stopped. Except when he was in Max’s arms. You weren’t sure what it was about him but Max had a way with Jamie that you couldn’t recreate.

It was always tough when he was away for race weekends. You would sit in front of the tv, watching Max and rocking Jamie, hoping the sounds of the cars would soothe him. At least that’s what Max told you. “The whooshing will put him right to sleep,” he would say over the phone. You were exhausted and lacked sleep but he tried to be as positive as possible halfway across the world.

Jamie got to attend his first Grand Prix at only a month old. The Monaco Grand Prix was a sight to see for anyone. Even though he won’t remember when he’s older, there are photos to prove he was on his first podium before he could walk. His daddy held him proudly in one arm and his trophy in the other.

Every time you attend a Grand Prix, you receive a warm welcome from those around you. People are excited to see you after missing you for multiple races at a time.

There was one person who wasn’t excited to see you and you don’t blame her. Anna Gasly kept to herself and avoided you at all costs. It made your stress levels decrease knowing that she wasn’t going to seek you out and knock you out for sleeping with her man.

You could sit in Max’s driver's room or the garage and just enjoy the weekend. Cheer on your husband, exactly what you were meant to do all along.

You picked up the tabloids and examined them, going against your own rule of never reading tabloids. Those stories aren’t real, they’re pure fiction. For entertainment. But this time you hoped it wasn’t. You hoped it would be fact-checked and sources cited. A quote from the man himself.

Jamie tugged at your arm. “Mommy, I gotta go!” He said. He looked adorable in his school uniform. You got emotional just looking at him. He was so excited to be a big boy and go to school. He carried his lunchbox around for hours yesterday just to practice. He was so young and innocent. He had no idea what the universe had in store for him for his life. You crossed your fingers that he met the right girl the first time around. And that he beats his friend to her. Because he deserves all the happiness in the world.

You snapped photos of him in front of his school before waving goodbye and handing him off to the teacher. Your baby was so old and you couldn’t handle it.

The post office was directly across the street from his school, so you decided to stop in and check to see if you had any new packages. No boxes, but the postal worker did hand you two envelopes.

One envelope was stamped with your address and name. Return address, Princess Grace Hospital Lab, Monaco.

The other was handwritten. No return address but it was addressed to you.

You weren’t sure which to open first. The handwritten letter seemed more intriguing.

Y/n,

Hi. I shouldn’t be sending this but I am going to seal it up and hope for the best. If you’re really as mad at me as Anna said, feel free to throw this out. But I know she was lying.

I’ve thought about you nonstop for the last three years. It’s been exactly three years, nine months, twenty-three days, and some odd hours since I last heard your voice.

I used to think about it at night when I couldn’t sleep. You always knew how to calm me down.

Congratulations on the birth of Jamie. I know I’m late, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything when he was firstborn. He’s beautiful. He should’ve been mine. You should’ve been mine.

Anna and I are divorcing. By the time this gets to you, it should be public. If not, feel free to tell whoever you want. I don’t give a shit. I tried for too long to convince myself that she was you but no one compares to you.

You are unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. You are smart, funny, beautiful, and my better half. I didn’t want to imagine a life without you but I’ve lived it and it fucking hurts.

If nothing comes of this, I want you to know I love you. I always loved you and I always will. I think about you constantly and I can’t see that ever ending.

You look happy. I just couldn’t let another day go by without telling you how I feel. How I still feel.

I wish you all the happiness, success, and love in your future. Please don’t forget about me.

Pierre

He signed the letter with his signature, the same one he gives to fans. This made you laugh through your tears. Of course, he still loved you. Something like that doesn’t just go away overnight.

You made sure both envelopes were in your hand when you ran down the street. You busted up a set of stairs, almost tripping on the way up.

You knocked on the door and stood there waiting. “Y/n?” He said opening the door.

“Hi, Pierre.” You held up both envelopes and smiled. It was time to find out the truth.

next part

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Unlucky in Love

masterlist

Gif credit to @ogledalo-moje-duse​

Summary: Spencer is unlucky in love - until he isn’t.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive content

Word Count: 3.4k

           Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love.

           It wasn’t for lack of trying. In his early twenties, Spencer often caught himself fantasizing about being on the receiving end of some great storybook romance straight out of one of the classic novels on his bookshelf. On the rare occurrence where his mind was able to slow down long enough, Spencer would daydream about what his future partner would be like. Would they share his fondness for the written word, or his penchant for foreign cinema? Would they find his tendency to go off on tangents endearing and his less than fashionable style of dress charming? Spencer liked to think so, but the likelihood of finding someone who could accept him despite all of his quirks seemed low.

           But still he hoped, even though he knew hope was a dangerous thing. Hope gave life to the possibility of disappointment – and if there was one thing Spencer did not need more of, it was that.

           Spencer Reid was in love with the idea of love – obsessed with the idea of his soul intertwining with someone else’s. But with his thirtieth birthday quickly approaching and absolutely no prospective love interests in sight, Spencer was feeling more than a little disheartened. It certainly didn’t help that everywhere he turned, love was running rampant. Hotch had Beth, Penelope had Kevin, Jennifer had Will, and Morgan had… any number of possible partners. Emily and Rossi were both unattached, but happily so in a way that Spencer just couldn’t quite manage.

           It wasn’t that he didn’t like seeing the people around him happy – it was just that he couldn’t help but wonder when he’d finally get his chance at love.

           A month before Spencer’s thirtieth birthday, everything changes.

           When a member of Garcia’s victims’ support group goes missing, it’s all hands on deck at the BAU. It’s not that they’d give any less than one hundred percent on any other given day, but as with any case that hits close to home, everyone on the team is in a frenzy trying to put the pieces together. The thing that makes this case different is the fact that people from other departments are quick to lend a hand. It comes as no surprise to Spencer – Penelope is a social butterfly by nature. She made it her business to know and befriend everyone in the building. Her sunny disposition is hard not to love, and her current distress had garnered the support of more than a few non-team members.

           By the time the case wraps up, the bullpen is much busier and, much to Spencer’s chagrin, much louder than usual. The steady influx of people has Spencer’s head spinning and he can’t seem to focus on the papers sitting in front of him. What should take him thirty seconds to read has almost taken twenty minutes, and at this point the words on the paper are all running together. Spencer knows that it doesn’t help that he’s running on less than three hours of sleep, as evidenced by the frequency of his yawns. Worse even is the fact that his coffee cup is empty and no, he thinks, that simply will not do. With a sigh Spencer pushes away from his desk, bones creaking as he stands.

           With his coffee cup in hand, Spencer shuffles to the breakroom. He goes through the motions of preparing his drink, lazily stirring in the mountain of sugar before turning to leave.

           Spencer supposes that if it weren’t for the fact that he was horribly sleep deprived, he would’ve seen you walking down the hallway. But alas, Spencer’s alertness had been compromised by poor sleeping habits, and he isn’t aware of your presence until his body is colliding with yours and his hot coffee is dripping down the front of your blouse.

           “Ouch,” you whimper, and Spencer is immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

           “O-Oh my God, I am so sorry,” he splutters. Without waiting for a response, Spencer’s rushing into the break room and procuring a thick stack of napkins. The part of his brain that controls logical thinking is apparently overrun by the onset of his mortification, and in an act of absolutely panic, he begins to dab at the stains with one of the napkins.

           “I-I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m so so sorry,” Spencer stutters out, frantically attempting to blot the stain. “I’ll give you money for a new shirt. A-Actually, you should probably take this one off.  The best way to treat scalds is to immediately get the person away from the heat source. You should also run some cold water over it.”

           In his hurry to rectify his mistake, Spencer hadn’t managed to take a good look at you. When his eyes leave the stain in favor of looking at your face, he prepares himself to see anger there. What he doesn’t expect is for your face to be just as flushed as his, with eye brows raised in shock.

          Spencer also doesn’t expect this to be the moment he’s been waiting on his entire life, but one look into your eyes tells him this is it - this is your person.

           Stunned into a stupor, Spencer stills, eyes boring into your own. You’re even more beautiful than he’d dared to let himself imagine, but in all honesty that didn’t matter much. What matters is the fact that there’s a faint hint of smile lines etched into your skin, and your eyes are so inherently kind that Spencer has no doubt that you’re as gentle as you are alluring. Your benevolence is also evidenced by the fact that you hadn’t immediately begun to yell at him, and for that he is thankful.

           Spencer’s revelation renders him unable to form any semblance of thought, and before he knows it almost a solid minute of him gaping at you passes. You begin to squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.

           “I, uh, appreciate the help, and you seem like a nice enough guy, but your hand is on my boob and I kind of make it a point to not let strangers touch the goods. So, if you don’t mind,” you stammer, looking pointedly at his hand that is still pressing a napkin to your chest. Spencer recoils as if he’s the one that’s been scalded.

           “I-I didn’t mean to, um, t-touch your -,” Spencer gulps, “- chest. I swear I was just trying to get the stain out. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he chokes out. Spencer had imagined the moment he’d come face to face with his person a million times, and none of his daydreams had accounted for the possibility of him giving her second degree burns and inadvertently copping a feel. His emotions fell somewhere between mortification and elation.

           “Mm likely story,” you murmur, lips upturning into a smile that has Spencer feeling weak in the knees. Spencer practically swoons. “Do you make it a habit to ask strangers to take their tops off, or am I just special?”

           Oh God, had I really suggested that? Spencer cringes and wonders what good an IQ as high as his was when it seemed to fail him at times like these. Speaking to women had never been a specialty of his, despite Derek’s coaching, and Spencer was floundering to come up with an acceptable response.

           You are the most special woman in the world, probably. Nope – too creepy, and Spencer definitely doesn’t want to scare you off. Not when he’s been waiting the better part of thirty years to meet you.

           I didn’t mean to insinuate that you should take off your shirt, but I also wouldn’t particularly mind if you did. Even worse – that would certainly earn him a stern talking to from HR.

           Spencer decides to go for the honest approach.

           “I-I’m not sure how to answer that.”

           His honesty draws a laugh from you, and Spencer loves the sound so much that he decides then that he’ll never tell a lie again. You shake your head at him and reach for the napkins that he still has clutched in his hands.

           “What’s your name?” you ask him as you continue his earlier efforts to sop up the coffee.

           It’s probably the easiest question he’s ever been asked. That doesn’t stop him from making a fool out of himself, though.

           “I’m Doctor Spencer R-Reid. Uh, I’m Spencer. Y-You don’t have to call me Doctor.”

           Someone please put me out of my misery.

           Your eyes meet his again and he can tell that you’re holding back a laugh.

           “Okay, then, Spencer,” you say as you discard the napkins in a nearby trash bin. “I’m Y/N.” You punctuate your words with an outstretched hand, and before Spencer can think better of it, the usual spiel come tumbling out of his mouth.

           “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss.”

           Your lower your hand and cock your head to the side.

           “Are you always this forward, Doctor Reid?” you tease him, eyes flashing amusedly.

           “I-I didn’t mean that we should kiss,” Spencer interjects, cringing at the way his voice has suddenly raised in pitch. “N-Not that I wouldn’t kiss you! I-I’m sure that kissing you would be really n-nice. I just meant that… you know. Germs.”

           Are you there, God? It’s me, Spencer. A hole opening up in the ground and swallowing me up would be great.

           To Spencer’s delight, you don’t seem offended in the slightest.

           “I cannot believe that they’ve been hiding you up here, Spencer Reid. I should’ve come to visit Penny years ago.”

           Wait – what?

           “You work here?”

           You nod.

           “I work on the floor below this one – sex crimes,” you explain.

           “For how long?”

           “Coming up on three years now.”

           Three years. You’d been right under Spencer’s nose for three years and he hadn’t the slightest clue. You’d parked your car in the same parking garage and taken the same elevator as he! How many times had your paths nearly crossed in the last three years? If he’d been just a little bit earlier or a little bit later getting into work, might the two of you met earlier? The possibility of it was maddening.

           “Oh, wow. I-I’ve never seen you,” Spencer mutters lamely. But miraculously, you don’t think he’s lame, if your response is any indication.

           “Nor I you, Doc. It’s a shame, too. You’re a funny guy.”

           Spencer Reid has been called a lot of things in his lifetime – funny was never one of them.

           “Y-Yeah. I’m a real riot at parties,” he deadpans.            “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you hum, and Spencer really hopes that you mean it. “Would you mind escorting me to Penelope’s office?”

           Spencer nods, and the two of you fall in step together. Spencer’s wracking his brain again for something – anything- he could say to fill the silence. Thankfully, you don’t seem quite as inept at conversing as he, and you beat him to it.

           “You look a little young yourself, Spencer. How long have you worked here?”

           “Uh, I’ve actually worked here for almost eight years. I started when I was twenty-two.”

           Your eyebrows raise in shock.

           “Twenty-two, huh? That makes you – what? Thirty now? I wouldn’t put you a day past twenty-five,” you muse, and Spencer isn’t quite sure what to make of that. You must pick up on the conflicted look on his face, because you clarify. “That’s a good thing, Doc. I hope I look as good as you do when I’m thirty.”

           Spencer has to remind himself how to breathe.

           “I’m not thirty yet. Technically I have twenty-three more days. I could have a rapid decline in attractiveness by then.”

           Spencer’s not usually one to try to be funny, but she seems to have a good sense of humor and he wants to impress you in any way he can.

           “I guess I’ll have to swing back by in twenty-three days and find out.”

           The two of you come to a stop in front of Penelope’s office and Spencer tries not to look as disappointed as he feels. He doesn’t want your meeting to come to an end – not when there’s so much about you that he wants to know. He wants to ask about your opinion on books and obscure foreign films and most importantly, Spencer wants to know what you think about him. Did meeting him affect you in the same way it did him? Did you secretly wish to make this moment last, too?

           Spencer wants to say so much, but he can’t. He’s too awkward and too scared and too nervous to find the right words. So instead, he gives you a tight-lipped smile.

           “I’m sorry about your blouse. Can I please give you the money to buy a new one? I feel like it’s the least I can do.”

           “Absolutely not. It’s really not that big of a deal. Didn’t even really care for the shirt, if I’m being honest. Red really isn’t my color.”

           Spencer wants to tell you how wrong you are – that he’s infinitely certain that you’d look irresistible in any color – but he doesn’t.

           You reach for the door knob, and Spencer’s shoulders slump.

           “It was nice meeting you, Spencer.”

           And then you’re gone, and Spencer can’t help but think that he royally fucked up the most important introduction of his entire life.

--

           When Spencer envisioned how his life would look at age thirty, he’d imagined it being a lot different than it is now. He’d hoped to use his intelligence for something great – finding a way to cure Alzheimer’s had been his main aspiration. Yet, here he was, thirty years old with nothing more than three PhDs to his name. He’d accomplished nothing of great significance, and the idea of having wasted his intelligence was eating away at him.

           In short, Spencer Reid was in a bit of a funk.

           It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen you since that fateful day in the bullpen. Spencer had contemplated paying you a visit, but the lingering embarrassment over his actions kept him from reaching out. He didn’t think he could handle how badly a rejection from you would hurt, so instead he sulked around the office and wallowed in his own self-deprecation.

           Spencer’s birthday wasn’t something he tended to advertise. From a young age, he’d chosen to observe it silently. Usually, his mother would forget, and he never really had any friends to celebrate with, so the day was always rather unimportant to him. Perhaps he would order takeout and gorge himself on greasy food while he sat alone in his apartment. It had been good enough for him last year, and he supposed it would have to suffice this year as well.

           He made it a point not to mention it to his coworkers, and the day passed by just as any other day. By the time five o clock rolled around, Spencer was waving a goodbye to his coworkers and heading out the door. As he waits for the elevator, he debates on whether to order Thai food or pizza for dinner.

           Just as he settles on Thai, the elevator doors open.

           “Oh, thank God, I was worried that you had left already!”

           Before Spencer can get over the initial shock of seeing you, you’re stepping out of the elevator and into his space, an excited smile on your lips. And then you’re holding out your hand, and Spencer’s almost moved to tears when he sees you wielding a single chocolate cupcake.

           “I wasn’t sure if you’d like chocolate or vanilla better, so I went with my gut. I get the feeling you’re a chocolate kind of guy,” you say, eyes shining as you look up at him. “So, was I right?”

           “You brought this for me?” Spencer asks, voice barely above a whisper. He can’t fathom it – that you had spared him any thought past your initial meeting. Spencer had surely expected you to forget about him entirely. Either that, or you’d written him off as someone to be avoided.

           You nod.

           “Of course, I did. It’s your birthday. Everyone deserves something sweet on their birthday.” You pause, the smile dropping from your face. “It is your birthday, right? I didn’t miss it, did I?”

           Spencer is slow to shake his head.

           “N-No, you didn’t miss it. I’m just surprised you remembered.”

           You chuckled softly.

           “You’re very unforgettable, Doctor Reid,” you say, and Spencer’s heart flutters in his chest. “And you didn’t answer my question.” You gesture to the cupcake expectantly.

           “Chocolate is my favorite,” Spencer breathes out, raising a shaky hand and taking it from her. “I… Thank you. You didn’t have to do this. It’s not that big of a deal.”

           “Are you kidding me? You’re turning thirty. That’s a very big deal, Doc.,” you argue, and Spencer gives you a tentative smile.

           “If you say so.”

           “I do,” you smirk, before hitting the button to open the elevator doors. “So, do you have any big plans to celebrate?”

           The doors open and you and Spencer file into the elevator together– an event three years in the making.

           “Not really. I was just going to order some food and stay in,” Spencer says before taking a bite of the cupcake. It tastes wonderful – better than a store-bought cupcake could ever be. This cupcake was undoubtably made from scratch, and the thought of you taking the time out of your day to bake something for him makes him feel weak at the knees. Pair that with the way you’re looking up at him and Spencer worries he might collapse.

           “What kind of food?”

           “Thai,” Spencer says around the mouthful of cake.

           “Mm,” you hum. “You know – I happen to love Thai food. And I also happen to not have any plans for the evening.”

           Even Spencer, who struggles to decipher the simplest of social cues, can deduce that you are insinuating that you want to spend the evening with him. He’s thankful, then, that he had already swallowed the bite of cupcake, because there’s no doubt in his mind that he’d have choked on it. Spencer gapes at you, but your gaze is unwavering and your body language gives no indication that you were joking.

           “D-Do… Do you want to, uh, come over?” Spencer trips over his words more times than any grown man should, but in his defense, he isn’t exactly well versed in matters like this.

           “Do you want me to come over?”

           “Yes.” Spencer answers so quickly that it should be embarrassing, but it’s hard to feel anything but happy when you’re looking at him like that.

           “Then in that case, I thought you’d never ask,” you sigh dramatically, and then the door opens up and you link your arm with his. “You know, I was beginning to think I’d never see you again. I’ve been driving Penelope crazy asking about you, Doc.”

           “You’ve been asking about me?” Spencer asks, incredulous.

           “Absolutely. It’s not every day that you meet a guy who has the audacity to feel you up and ask you to undress within the first five minutes. I just had to know more,” you tease, and Spencer can’t help but laugh. Despite the cold air of the parking garage, Spencer feels warm – warmer than he’s ever felt and he knows that it has everything to do with the way you’ve pressed yourself against his side.

           “In that case, I’m very glad I spilled my coffee on you,” Spencer says and you let out a snort.

           “Yeah, I could’ve done without that part. And the part where you called me germy.”

           “I did not mean it like that,” Spencer insists. You hum and detach yourself from him, and Spencer instantly misses the contact.

           “Because it’s your birthday, I’ll let you off the hook,” you announce, making your way to the other side of his car, all while never taking your eyes off him. “And if you’re lucky, birthday boy, I might just be willing to test that theory of yours.”

           Spencer cocks his head to the side.

           “Theory?”

           You nod, and the smile that creeps across your face is the best birthday present he’s ever gotten.

           “You said you thought kissing me would be nice. I think we should find out.”

           Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love. But as he steals glances at you on the way to his apartment, his chest swells with a hope that maybe – just maybe – his luck is about to change.

[thefanficmonster]

Just Two Sad Roommates

Corpse Husband x Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: The power of medieval tavern music gets put to the test when Corpse’s roommate is having a rough day. SPOILER ALERT: it’s more powerful than anyone could assume.

Requested by Anon. You know who you are 😊😋 Wish I could tag you, I loved this idea so much and had such a fun time writing it. Hope you enjoy it just as much 🥰

The last twenty four hours haven’t been so great. 

Last night I had a huge fight with my boyfriend over his flirty messages with several girls. It was not just witty banter, it was way more and way more hurtful to me. He obviously denied it and defended himself, at least in the beginning of the argument. Then he took on the accusatory stance, pointing fingers at me for living with another guy. That had me absolutely fuming. Not only was his statement fabricated and literally made up on the spot, but he also used some seriously horrible insults for him. I was having non of it. Corpse is a really great roommate, sweet guy and overall amazing person. I haven’t once argued with him since we’ve started living together. We’re actually quite good friends. So hearing my asshole boyfriend call him all those names was more than enough to chase him out of the apartment. Thankfully, Corpse wasn’t home to hear all that. He rarely leaves the apartment but by some miracle this was the time he was absent.

Then this morning my mom called me to have a chat. It started off decently enough but it only remained that way for so long. It didn’t take her long to start criticizing each and every element of my existence. From my job, my boyfriend, my living arrangement, the career I’ve decided to pursue, the fact I moved to a different state, my paycheck that’s lower than her friend’s daughter’s...…..You get the point. 

Now I’m sitting here, contemplating what the two years I’ve been in a relationship with Marcus mean to me. I guess it is just like a phone call from my mother - starts off nice but slowly deteriorates. All things follow this pattern in my life, apparently. And just like the phone calls, I’ve considered ending things between me and him many times but never actually decided on it. Until now. The last part of this decision is executing it, which doesn’t look very promising. My thumbs are frozen, hovering over the keyboard.

I take a second to take a look at my life from a third person point of view, like an out of body experience. I am wrapped in a blanket, huddled on the couch like a burrito with a face. A really sad burrito with a face. I have a job where I work as much as three highly ranked workers and get paid a little over a secretary’s paycheck. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion and disinterest. I often forget I’m human and just assume I can live like a cactus - no food, no water. I have a boyfriend that’s cheating on me and most likely has been for quite some time now. And we’ve been dating for two fucking years. Man, that must be the longest cheat streak in history. Who knows with how many girls as well. And I still have trouble deciding weather to break up with him or not. Actually no, scratch that, I have already decided, but it feel so unnatural and so out of character that my body refuses to complete the task of delivering the final blow to the structure of this relationship which was already weak to begin with.

And it only got weaker when I started catching feelings for another guy. I know, I know, I’m a bad person for that, but I was never planning to act on those feelings. They have always just...lingered, loomed over me. They got stronger and stronger every time Marcus and I would fight, as though they were laughing at my mock of a relationship.

Speaking of laughter, I hear my roommate laughing in his recording room. I gave him the spare room for his recording equipment for a cheap add to his rent fee and it’s probably the second best decision I’ve ever made - first being picking him to be my roommate. He was among the first to reply to my online add and appeared the least sketchy over the phone. More hypnotizing if I’m honest. He could’ve told me he was a hitman and I wouldn’t have batted an eye, handing the keys to his room and the apartment without a second thought. All he had to do was keep talking. Again, SUE ME.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic!“ I drop my phone when all the strings inside me snap, releasing the sobs and tears I’ve been holding back for so long.

I bring my knees up to my chest, hiding my head in between them, desperately trying to shield myself from the plane crash that is my life at the moment. Crying makes me feel even sadder and more miserable but I have nothing left to do to get all the crap that’s piled up inside me out.

I’m on the verge of falling asleep, the tears have dried and the sobs have died somewhere in my chest, when I hear what sounds like music straight from Robin Hood’s time. 

Holy shit, I’ve lost it

I lift my head from in-between my knees, looking around the living room for the source of the jolly, lighthearted tune which despite all the heaviness of my self-loathing makes me feel like the main character in an medieval adventure. Wait...Holy crap, it’s that medieval adventure, Robin Hood-ass music I hear from Corpse’s room!

I whip around to face the entrance from to the hallway where I see an arm sticking out, holding a phone which is where the music is coming from. 

“Corpse?“ I call out to him in a questioning manner, shifting to a sitting position with my blanket kicked off of me and bunched up next to me.

“I can’t tell if you’re angry or sad...or both. Didn’t want to get attacked upon entering the room.“ I see the right side of his face peek out as well.

I break out into laughter, covering my mouth with one hand, “You’re such a dork.”

He takes this as a sign to come in, pausing the music as he does so. “What’s wrong?”

My laugh stops but a smile remains on my face as I look at him. He just has that effect on me. “A lot. What’s going on with you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, plopping down on the couch, “The usual, streaming Among Us. You should play with me and my friends some time.”

I scoff, “I can pull of a lie no problem. Maybe I really should.” I don’t actually consider it, it’s just funny to think about. 

I have never watched any of Corpse’s content. Not his scary story videos, not his streams, not his animated compilations. Just his songs. And let me tell you...they are hella good. One song and I was hooked.

“Hey, I have a question.“ I tilt my head to look at him, “What’s with you and your love for medieval adventure music?“

“Medieval tavern music, and it’s not really love.“ He shakes his head with this dopey grin that is just. so. adorable. “More like a coping mechanism. Tell me, did you feel less sad I played it for you?“

I stop and think for a second. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Point made.“ He declares, leaving me to nod in amusement. “Now, tell me what that ‘a lot’ is.“

So, I do. I tell him everything, from how my boyfriend is cheating on me to how my mother thinks I’m a complete failure. He listens carefully, paying close attention to everything I’m saying. I catch myself laughing a few times while I retell the recent upsetting events.

Must be that music.

“So, you broke up?“ He asks once I end my monologue with a sigh

I shake my head disappointedly, “Not yet. I still haven’t pulled the plug. I don’t know what to say.”

He holds out his hand to me, “May I be of assistance?”

I look at his hand then at him and contemplate for only a second before deciding ‘what the hell’ and handing over my phone after unlocking it. The screen displays my boyfriend’s chat so Corpse just types away what he has in mind. Before pressing ‘send’, he hands the phone back to me. “Proofread it.”

‘Dear Marcus, this is one of your girlfriends speaking. Yes, one of them. You think I’m not onto what you’re doing, you little shit? Well, to your dismay, I am. And so, I discontinue this relation between us. That word might have been too long for your IQ so let me rephrase: We are over. Finished. Hope your other girlfriends wake up too, unless they are already in the know, of course. Love, but really hate, Y/N‘

I was never aware this level of sass even existed.

I add a smiling emoji and send the message, sighing in relief. “I can check that off my to-do list now.”

We both lean back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. A moment of comfortable silence takes over, leaving us both wandering in our own heads.

“Hey, um, I wanted to do this when I first moved in, but then I met your boyfriend and I took the hint. Now that you’re single, would you want to...“ he sounds a bit uncertain but continues regardless, “It’s ridiculous cause I don’t really like the idea of going out, but maybe we could order take-out...“

“Are you circling around asking me on an at-home date?“ I am surprised by how unbothered I manage to sound while I’m squealing on the inside. It’s fascinating how quickly a person can flip someone’s day around. Turns out it wasn’t the music at all. It was him that had the positive effect on mine.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch his face turn red and have to contain my laughter. The grin can’t be tamed though, especially not when he says, “Yes.”

Internally squealing, I launch myself from the couch, standing up straight in front of him. “Thai. My usual order is on the sticky note on the fridge. But first,” I offer him my hand, “I need to find out if a person can even dance to that ridiculous music.” At his amusement, my grin widens, “May I have this dance?”

He laughs that adorable laugh of his I’ve only heard through the layer of a wooden door. It’s even cuter when there’s nothing between me and its source. The source is cute too, not gonna lie.

With a shake of his head which is most likely disbelief, he takes the hand I’ve offered him, saying: “And you call me a dork.” 

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.19

The True Heir

03/09/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,781

Warnings: angst, depression, pregnancy, marital troubles, pining

A/N: There is very little editing. Forgive me. I’m sleepy. I’ve been up writing all night. I’ve also been hurting, but it’s all good! I’m so happy to get this chapter out. *insert evil laugh* If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! it truly means so much, more than you know. xoxo

Sunday

Today you do nothing.

You’d opened up your laptop last night and attempted to scribble a few lines for your next book, but all you could think about was Thor, Jane, the babies to come, and where exactly you fit amongst all of it.

After typing Thor’s name along with a few other random words for the tenth time, you gave up and shut the laptop. You’d crawled into bed, bundled up under your fluffy comforter, and bid goodbye to the world as you caved in to unconsciousness.

The fact that morning is here, you find that your hope for today to be better than  yesterday was silly. How can anything ever be good again?

You place your hands on your lower tummy, caressing what feels like a very slight swell. It’s just barely harder than the rest of your stomach. Firm. Despite the happiness that your baby brings you, you stare across the room at your computer and can’t find it in you to get up and work.

Instead you roll over onto your other side and pull Thor’s--that is to say, the one he’d used while he was here--pillow over to cling to.

Thor’s texts are also still fresh in your mind.

Sleep didn’t dull their effect on you or the confusion they raised.

Did they mean that he wouldn’t get an annulment? That’s sorta what you were getting from them. His declarations that he couldn’t live without you and that he would die for you and that he missed you so much at his side sounded like he was also telling himself how he felt. As if he were, not so much convincing, but reaffirming what he already knew.

You reach over and switch your phone on, clicking through to your messages to find that Thor must have stolen his phone back from Loki at some point.

Thor: Good morning, my cherub. I hope you slept well.

Thor: I could hardly sleep with you absent beside me.

Thor: Our bed is too big without you in it.

Thor: Have you seen the doctor yet? You’ll text me as soon as you get a diagnosis, won’t you? I’ll be waiting.

Thor: Loki insists that I give you some distance to rest but being apart from you is torture.

Thor: Would you be very angry with me if I came to see you?

Thor: I have some things I must deal with here before I can go though. Loki is right. I should allow you rest and fix things here before I come to you.

Thor: Are you still sleeping, cherub? I’m sorry if my messages are disturbing you. I haven’t gone this long without talking to you since...I wish I’d met you years ago. When things weren’t so complicated.

Thor: Would you have let me court you even though I am the God of Thunder? Future King of Asgard? Would you have married me when I came back with my people to live here on Earth?

Thor: I think if I had to choose all over again, you’re still the only woman equal to the task of being my Queen.

Thor: And the love that has grown between us is...I will never take it for granted…

As you read that last message, you assume he wants to say he won’t take it for granted again. He’s already let it slip through his fingers, although he doesn’t know it yet.

Thor: Perhaps this can be that break you were talking of. For our baby? Maybe we do need a little bit of relaxation to let our bodies recover?

Thor: And yet, I can’t wait to start a family with you, cherub.

You’re bawling all over again, your eyes flooding with tears as you bury your face into his pillow and sob loudly.

He’d said that he missed your body next to his. You can relate. You want to feel the heavy fall of his chest, the deep breaths that fill his lungs and escape through his lips in a quiet little snore that always makes you cuddle into his side.

Normally, he’d respond by turning to face you and holding you right up against his chest.

The comfort that simple thing would give you right now when your heart is aching so painfully is what you so desperately need. But...you’re so angry too. You don’t want him near you.

The images that flood your mind are torture. Mixtures of pleasant, happy moments now marred by the betrayal and anger that has taken hold of your heart.

You bury your face into the pillow and scream until your throat really does go hoarse. Frustration at the force of change you’ve had to make in the past twenty-four hours.

You’re startled back to the present when your phone rings. You make a small attempt  to clear your throat then answer and the absolute gravel voice you use settles any wondering as to whether your illness is real.

“Hello?” you whisper, clearing your throat to no avail.

“Oh, cherub, you sound terrible.”

Your heart panics. How are you supposed to talk to him?

You don’t want to talk to him.

“I can’t really talk,” you say weakly hoping he’ll take the hint.

“Did the doctor see you already?” Thor asks, his worry evident in the quiet tone of his voice.

“Yes, he gave me some medicine and told me to try not to talk,” you lie, surprisingly easy right now since you don’t want to talk.

For your emotional sanity, you need to hang up soon.

“I’m so sorry, love. I wish I could take this illness from you. Where’s David? I’d like to talk to him.”

You panic again, floundering as you cough and clear your throat to buy some time.

“He’s not here. He went to the store to get some groceries,” you hope he buys it.

“I’ll call him a little later then. If you need anything, let me know. I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks, Thor,” you mumble, suddenly not wanting to hang up.

How can one person give you so much ease and worry all at once? How can he be your source of agony and comfort at the same time? It’s not fair.

“I have so much to tell you, but...now is not the right time. You need to get better first.”

Nevermind! Fuck this guy. Your heart sinks.

“I have to go,” you tell him, hoping he’ll just hang up and leave you be now.

“Very well. I love you, cherub.”

How do you answer him without giving anything away just yet?

“Me too,” you choose. And it’s true.

Even if he’s torn your heart into pieces, he’s still the father of your baby and you still love him.

Whatever madness overcame him when he’d suggested to Loki getting an annulment was the best course of action seems to have passed. Loki must be right about him.

“Bye, Thor,” you whimper.

“Bye, Y/N,” he says your name, making your heart quake a bit.

You hang up and quickly dial up David.

He answers after two rings.

“Hello? How is my favorite girl in the whole wide world?”

He sounds amused by something, or just happy. It’s such a difference to how you feel at the moment that it breaks you and you sob again, renewing your tears.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” David demands, clearly now beginning to fret over the way you sound.

You tell him everything. Somehow you manage to get it all out minus one important detail and when you’re done recounting the most horrible night of your life, David sighs heavily and you can almost picture him settling into a deep armchair with massive worry weighing on his shoulders.

“Well, the good thing is, if he goes through with an annulment, you’re to be given a monthly allowance for the rest of your life. It was a condition in your contract, should Thor change his mind about marrying you. But he didn’t so it was moot, until now. You will be a very rich woman. More so than the small fortune you originally inherited.

“I know that money is hardly a consolation for the man that you love-” David sighs again. “Perhaps he said it in madness? He must have been very upset. Caught by surprise?” David offers.

“Even if he doesn’t mean it or doesn’t go through with it, I know that for you the point is the thought was there.

“However, I do think we must make allowances for Thor. I’m sorry to say. He is a king and he’s responsible for his entire people. A baby would give them security. Stability. A legitimate heir would tie them to Earth forever.

“We musn’t make light of his choices. This isn’t a common situation to find one’s self in. For either of you.”

“David, I’m pregnant.” You finally explain, knowing that it will maybe just show him a little bit more of what you’re facing. “I went to tell Thor and that’s when I overheard them.”

For a moment he’s speechless. When he speaks again, his voice is heightened.

“Congratulations! I-I knew it would happen eventually. The timing is a little-”

“I haven’t told him yet, clearly.”

Silence again. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I was so happy when I went to tell him and then I heard their conversation and I-I just can’t find the strength to do it right now. Not until I know whether he wants the annulment.”

David breathes in deeply and then exhales slowly into the phone. His breath is light and soft.

“You’re afraid that he will only stay with you because of the child,” a statement.

David knows you better than anyone else in your life. It’s not surprising that he’d make the leap so quickly.

“He’s willing to leave me and marry Jane because of her baby. It’s possible that he’ll stay by my side only because of our baby and I’d rather he do what’s best for our people than to stay with me because of a sense of obligation.”

“It could be that Jane will not want him. She might keep her child away from the Asgardian royal court. Didn’t she refuse to marry him because she didn’t want to be Queen?” David’s voice is pensive. “This might all feel much larger than it is. I suggest you take some time to really think through your actions before making any decisions.”

“I’m not going to never tell him, David. He’s the father of my child. He has to know that he has two and not just the one. I don’t think I could do that to him. I could never keep him from his children.

“Either of them.”

“You are magnanimous, Y/N. More than even I thought you were capable of.”

“Bullshit. I ran away and am refusing to see him until I get my week of space,” you nod firmly. “But David-?”

“Tell me,” he urges you, recognizing your tone of anguish.

“I-I know that I accepted this marriage hesitantly. It wasn’t like I asked for it and you know how I felt before Thor asked me to marry him. You know how s-scared I was about marrying someone who was in love with someone else, and now...now he’s-”

“He’s married to you, Y/N. Not Ms. Foster. And from what I have been able to see, he does love you. Not Jane. This is a temporary setback. If you’re angry at him, be angry at him. Don’t pretend you aren’t. If you’re hurt, show it. Wear your heart on your sleeve.

“Loving someone is one of life’s greatest blessings. Sometimes that love doesn’t last, sometimes it takes a beating. But you must choose whether your love is worth fighting for.

“You’ve also got obligations that you cannot escape from. Duties to your people as their Queen.”

“Assuming Thor doesn’t leave me and take my crown,” you scoff.

“I’m with your brother-in-law. I don’t think it will come to that. I think Thor was a little shocked and thrown by Ms. Foster’s news. Now that he has had some time to think, I believe he’ll do right by you and when you tell him, your child.”

“I won’t tell him until he makes up his mind,” you insist.

“That is your prerogative. Do what you need to. What can I do to help? What do you need from me?”

“Just be prepared for any eventuality. I’m not sure what’s going to happen at the end of this week. Oh, and if Thor calls you--just make something up and tell me what you say. He thinks you drove me from the airport and have been staying with me.”

“Using me as your alibi so that your husband won’t come looking for you,” David clicks his tongue. “How much detail shall I give him?”

“You’ve got a job too, just tell him you’re coming and going. Tony had his staff install some security on the house after the honeymoon. I’m safe here. He’ll believe that I’m safe if that’s all you say.

“Anyway, I need to go. I have two more calls to make before I can relax and enjoy my break from the throne.”

“If you need anything, you know how to reach me. Anything, Y/N. I mean it.”

“Thanks, David. I can always count on you,” you smile.

Just a tiny one. A very subtle curve at the corners of your lips.

“Well, you do pay me,” he jokes, which actually pulls a small laugh from you.

“Right. Bye, David.”

“Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

You take only a minute to think about your conversation with David before you make the most important calls of your week in solitude.

The first one is simple. Just a reminder of doctor-patient confidentiality. He understands what you’re saying even if he doesn’t practice by that mentality.

Dr. Wilson’s phone call is more difficult. She wants an explanation. She wants to know why she’s not allowed to tell your husband, the King of New Asgard, that he’s finally got what you and he have been wanting.

An heir!

It’s painful to talk about but you tell her what’s happened. You tell her that Thor doesn’t know that you know about Jane’s baby.

She’s very quiet as you talk. She assumes things and you can hear her anger when she starts to ask for what she can tell Thor.

“He didn’t cheat on me, Dr. Wilson,” you explain, hoping that this will ease her anger.

You’re angry at Thor because of the annulment, not because he and Jane have created a life from their love. You’re hurt because he’s willing or was willing--you’re not sure yet--to leave you to be with Jane, even if not for love but for the baby growing within her.

You’re hurt because the man you love was choosing his duty over his feelings for you.

Even though you know that he’s right to do it. Even though you know that you should understand because he’s King and you also took an oath to put the people of New Asgard first.

It’s your duty to put their well-being before your own. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

In Thor’s mind, his only duty is to his child. Jane’s child. He doesn’t know you’re carrying one of your own yet. Even though that would probably make sure that he stays with you because of the baby, you don’t want that to be the reason he stays.

Proud fool.

“Thor slept with Jane the same night he proposed to me. This was before we loved each other, when leaving Jane was the hardest thing he’d had to do. I don’t hold that against him.”

You don’t tell her about the annulment. She doesn’t need to know how messy this all is.

“He’ll probably call for you and Dr. Alric soon. Loki suggested they get Jane checked so act surprised? But please don’t tell him I’m pregnant. Not yet. He’s coming to see me at the end of the week and I’ll tell him myself then. Please?” And it really is a genuine plea.

“I’ll do whatever you need, Your Majesty. I would like to come and check on you. You don’t sound well.”

She’s very sweet and her concern is touching.

“Thor will probably send you to me eventually. He’s worried but he’s clearly got other things on his mind.”

“I’ll make arrangements to head over there tomorrow. Oh, can you hold for one minute Your Majesty? I’m so sorry.”

“Of course.”

There’s silence on the phone for a few minutes before she comes back.

“It was His Majesty. He’s told me about Jane but she’s not available for an examination until later in the week. So, he’s asked me to come to you first. I’ll be there tonight.”

For some reason, the idea of having her with you eases some of the stress you’ve been carrying with you since yesterday.

“I’ll call and have a car sent for you.”

“Actually, His Majesty has promised to bring me straight to you via bifrost.”

“Wait, what?” You sit up in bed, clutching your blanket to your chest as your nerves suddenly fray and panic begins to build up within you.

“Should I come by plane?” She asks, worried by the sound of your voice.

You can’t see Thor. No. You can’t.

“No. I’ll just be going out later tonight to pick up a few things that I need here at the house. Toilet paper, napkins, laundry soap. I just didn’t want you to get here when I was out, but I’ll text you the passcode to get in.”

You’ll just have to make sure that you’re not at home when they come. That’s what you’ll do. This is a perfect excuse to be out since you need to get the stuff you listed anyway.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t just like me to come by plane?”

“No, really. The sooner you get here, the better. The car ride is so long from the airport. I’ll see you tonight, Dr. Wilson.”

“Bye, Your Majesty.”

Even though you know that you have hours upon hours until Thor brings Dr. Wilson here, you force yourself out of bed and abandon your plans to wallow in your feelings so that you can shower, get dressed, and leave the house.

If Thor’s coming, you’re going to be as far away from your house as you can be. You’re not ready to see him again just yet. You only have small errands to run but you’re gonna stay out all damn day if it’s the last thing you do.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday

Thor is at a loss. Completely and utterly lost without you.

If he was ever in doubt as to how he really felt about you--which he never has been because he knows himself well enough to know better--he knows now that you are the light of his new life here on Earth.

His reign would mean significantly less without you at his side.

Even though the time you’ve spent together has been a short few months, they have been the best months of his life.

If he’d had one of those other women he’d interviewed become his Queen, this life he’s chosen to lead would have felt empty and tedious. Instead of watching his Queen spend her time with his people leading the way in progress.

You’re so eager to be part of the Asgardian populace. They’ve embraced you so fully.

With a sigh, Thor leans forward and buries his face into his hands as he mentally trashes himself for the absolute fool that he’s been about this entire situation.

The fact that he’d even entertained the thought of leaving you.

He wants to cry and tear his hair out in frustration.

Should he tell you that the thought was weighed along with many others at Jane’s news?

And Jane.

Thor groans.

She’s been avoiding him since she told him. He can’t exactly blame her for it. He hadn’t exactly taken the news well.

He had no reason to expect her to be receptive to him after he’d basically accused her of being confused about it. She knew her own body. If she said she was pregnant, what reason would he have to doubt her?

He’s messed everything up so much and he’s terrified to tell you about Jane.

What if you have the same idea he did? What if you decide to leave him in some foolish attempt to have him marry her and legitimize his future child?

It’s something you would do. Sacrifice yourself so that he could do the right thing.

The thought of living this life of rule without you at his side is unbearable.

With another frustrated groan, he gets up and moves to pace the length of the room, ignoring the large pile of paperwork on his desk as his mind moves in circles.

It always comes back to you.

And then you’d been out when he’d gone to drop off Dr. Wilson. He hadn’t expected you to be gone. He’d wanted to see you. To hold you. Touch you. Hear your voice after so much turmoil.

You are his only solace.

Going so close to you and not seeing you has left him with a terrible pain in his chest.

His phone rings.

Thor dives for his phone and fumbles with it as he grabs it off the bed. He almost loses it over the opposite edge.

He literally throws himself towards it and lands with a grunt onto the bed as he catches it.

He presses the button on the screen without looking to see who it is because he only wants it to be you.

“Cherub?” he gasps, his voice an octave higher than normal with the little bit of exertion he just underwent.

“Oh, no. Sorry, Your Majesty, it’s Dr. Wilson. I was just calling to give you your daily report on Her Majesty’s health.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry. I just haven’t heard from-” He clears his throat, sits up, and slides to the edge of the bed. “No matter. How is my Queen, doctor?”

“She was asleep. But just woke up. She’s very tired. Her throat is better, but she’s had a fever every morning since Sunday.”

Thor sits up straighter, hand clenched into a fist around the edge of the bed as his heart starts to thrum loudly.

“Is she seriously ill?”

“No, of course not, Your Majesty. But she really does need rest. She has been under severe stress and I’m sorry to say that your constant messages are not letting her rest.”

Thor’s heart drops and buries itself into a hole at the bottom of his stomach. He feels numb suddenly, fearful of what he might be doing to you. The guilt of what he knows he must tell you soon also weighs down on him.

“Are you saying that I should leave her be until she is recovered?” Thor checks, just in case he’s not understanding correctly.

“I’m saying that if you want her to get well quickly, you must give her what she asked you for. She needs rest.”

Thor hates that he can’t be there to check on you. He wants to feel you close. He wants to see you. What if you’re deathly ill and you’re telling Dr. Wilson to lie for you?

You abhor lies and cherish honesty , but he can see you lying in order to spare him pain. Just as he is lying to spare you the worry of all this uncertainty with Jane.

Although he knows that he can never lose you now and even with a child coming with Jane, you are his wife and he can’t leave you. He was stupid to think he could even try. The thought was a sin and he’ll never forgive himself for thinking it.

Loki was so angry with him.

Rightfully so.

The good thing is that you’ll never know how bleak things looked. At least he has found his sanity again.

“Will you keep me informed? I’ll stop contacting her if you will promise to tell me how she fares. If she gets worse, I want to know.” Thor insists, his voice passionate and begging.

“You have my word, Your Majesty. Have you heard anything from Ms. Foster? Do we know exactly when we’ll be running her tests?”

“She’s very busy. As of now, it’s looking more and more likely that we won’t be able to find the time until the week’s end. After we confirm her pregnancy, I’ll tell Y/N. I’m sorry that I’ve asked you to collude in this business.”

There’s a long pause and for a moment Thor thinks that maybe the phone has disconnected but then Dr. Wilson sighs, “I cannot wait for this week to be over. Will you come back for me then? When she’s ready?”

“Yes. I’ll pick you up in the same spot that I left you. My wife wasn’t too upset about her lawn, was she? Only, Stark seems to get irritated with me every time I land on his.”

“No,” Dr. Wilson chuckles once. “She was not upset. Again, there’s little more than her throat, head, and fever on her mind. I’ve gotta go. She’s gone out into the garden for some fresh air but I need to get her back into bed.”

“Please take good care of her, doctor. She’s...well, she’s my wife,” Thor finishes heavily.

The phone goes dead and Thor sits there staring at his phone until he can find the strength to get to his feet and go off in search of Jane. They really need to talk.

~~~~~~~~~~

Friday

Thor is upset.

He’s beyond frustrated by now.

He’s irritated.

It’s a week tomorrow since he’s seen you and he can’t stand the distance anymore.

Dr. Wilson snuck him a photo but you’d been sitting on your sofa, looking weak and withdrawn.

He’s not sure what exactly is making you sick, but he knows that he can’t go another day without seeing you.

He needs to get Dr. Wilson back here and he needs to get confirmation so that he can have something to tell you once he sees you.

He won’t lose you over this.

It was one last time. One final goodbye with Jane and he’d thought she was on her birth control but apparently she hadn’t been so he hadn’t bothered to protect himself from the possibility of getting her pregnant.

Why hadn’t she said anything?! Why hadn’t she told him that she wasn’t on her pill?

He knows it’s wrong to blame her. It took both of them to make this baby, but being away from you for so long is wearing thin and he’s losing all semblance of patience.

It takes some very careful maneuvering. Heimdall is sent first, then Hilde, then Loki.

None of them know why they’re going in to corner Jane in the tower except for Loki. Well, Heimdall knows, but there’s no hiding much from Heimdall. He pretends not to know and that’s good enough for Thor.

Loki is just stepping out of the tower when he turns to look at Thor with a grave almost exhausted expression.

“She’s up there,” he assures Thor, frowning as he shuts the heavy door. “When will this end, Thor? Are you going to keep the Queen away forever?”

Thor says nothing, he’s too upset to speak. He pulls the door open roughly and stomps his way up the steps taking them two at a time until he’s standing on the top floor landing.

He can see Jane biting her lip, pacing the length of the room until she turns and finally sees him.

“Thor…” she gasps, not expecting to see him.

“We have to talk, Jane.”

She looks away, turning her back on him then moves towards her laptop which she carefully closes. She puts her hand up to her throat and turns to face him.

“I will have Dr. Wilson brought in and Dr. Alric to give you the same tests they have been giving Y/N. They will be confirming your pregnancy and once we have that, then we can all sit down and figure out-”

“I’m not pregnant,” Jane gasps, her voice filling the room despite the quiet breath that escapes her pink lips.

Thor’s stomach twists. It’s agony.

On the one hand, the words she’s just spoken are...they’re a celebration. They’re simplicity. They’re peace and a return back to normal where in his life there is only you.

On the other hand, he’s just lost a baby he never had. An heir that he’d been expecting and now can never get back.

He’d made plans for this child. He’s pictured his life with them, the happiness and joy that their birth would bring to the people of New Asgard. The assurance that they would always belong to Earth.

He’d picked names for boys and girls. He’d begun to make a list of nursery items they would need even as he lamented that the baby was not yours but Jane’s.

This baby would have, and had already begun to change his life.

And now this?!

“What?” he very nearly spits.

Jane is so flustered she’s wringing her hands hard, welting them red.

“I’m...I didn’t expect to come here and see you with her and see how fast you just-” she waves her hand as if shooing away some animal. “-moved on. It’s like you were never with me.

“You were both so happy and talking about the future and I just lost it for a little bit,” she shrugs. “I have no excuses, Thor. I’m sorry if what I said hurt you. It was selfish of me and I just loved you for so long. You were mine, you know? And now you’re married, planning to have kids, and your wife is so nice and considerate and even though she has every reason to hate me, she was polite and so damn perfect…

“I’m not afraid to say that it made me hate her. I’m ashamed of it, but not enough to take it back.”

The silence is thick. The air suddenly grows charged and Thor’s eyes shine a bright sparkling blue.

His hands crackle and his eye spits as if full of blue fire.

The sky overhead thunders and the world shakes with the boom. The lightning strikes sharp and fast, shaking the tower so that for a moment, Thor can see how Jane thinks it might topple.

His anger gives way to betrayal and his lightning fizzles out as he takes a step towards her, his brow furrowed, eye full of pain as he stares at her, searching for the joke that this must be.

There is no way that this is really happening.

“You lied to me?” Thor accuses.

Jane blanches, her lips going pale as she takes a step towards him.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie, I just-I didn’t want to see you with her anymore and I wasn’t thinking straight so I just said it before I could stop myself. I know that it was wrong and I didn’t think it would go on for so long. I wanted to tell you almost as soon as I said it that it wasn’t true, but then you just took off and then the Queen left and I wasn’t sure if you told her and maybe that’s why she wasn’t here.”

Thor shakes his head, turning away from her as he paces towards the stairs but then turns back, his anger returning but full of pain now.

“I defended you. When Loki insisted I have you tested I asked him if he doubted you and I assured him that you would not lie about something this important. What reason would you have to lie?” he demands, almost of himself instead of Jane.

“Thor,” Jane begins.

“How long were you going to let me think you were carrying my child? How long were you planning to con me?” he accuses and his words seem to hurt Jane.

Thor can’t find it in him to care too much.

“I wasn’t-that’s not what I meant to do, Thor. Please, you have to believe me. I just didn’t know how much seeing you with her would-”

“You have no right to be upset!” he booms, his voice loud and it startles Jane quiet.

She’s never heard him angry like this. She’s never heard his voice raised.

“I gave you every opportunity to be with me, to marry me, to build a life here with me and be my Queen. You didn’t want it! You flat-out refused to be tied down by me and this Kingdom but now that you see me and my wife happy, you change your mind?

“You have the audacity to raise obstacles between us because you have regrets?”

“Thor,” she tries again, but Thor won’t let her speak.

“Get out,” he says sternly, turning to move towards the stairs.

“What?!”

“I said, get out. You are no longer welcome in my home. Pray no one ever finds out of your treachery. And should you have the urge to return for any reason, don’t.”

Thor storms down the steps, so angry that each step shakes the tower.

He’s breathing heavily as he slams the door shut behind him.

The storm air helps to calm him a bit. It clears his mind at least and the past week zooms by him like an unpleasant movie.

All of that worry and the plotting and planning. The agony that he felt wondering if you’d leave him when you found out about his child with Jane was the most unbearable.

Your face flashes before his eyes and he knows that there’s only one place he can be right now.

He throws his hand out and a metallic whistling rushes closer before his fist closes around his hammer.

He swings it firmly and throws it up into the air as he makes for your home.

Now that he has nothing to keep him here, he’s eager to get back to you. He’ll tell you everything and hope that you can forgive him for lying to you about Jane.

Even though it was a lie by omission, it was still a lie.

“I’m coming, my cherub,” he whispers, so eager to have you in his arms again.

Nothing will ever tear him from you again. He is certain. Nothing. Not a false heir, or a former love, no doubts exist within him anymore. You are the one.

The only one.

[yoonpobs]

to the touch | pjm

pairing: park jimin x oc (ft. brother yoongi)

genre: mutual pining, fluff, cute crushes, brothers best friend

warnings: JIMIN that's it

words: 5, 216

summary: he's back

“You’re … you’re here?” You squeak and it’s not one of your best moments even if you were sure Yoongi would argue otherwise and that you rarely had average moments, to begin with. But there was something about spontaneity and surprise that threw you off in the worst way possible and made your brain short-circuit to the point where you’re unable to throw coherent thoughts together. And this was definitely a surprise, one that you’d never expected to happen because—

“I am,” Jimin says curtly, tossing you a firm nod of his head when he pushes you aside and steps into your apartment like he’s been year a thousand times. But in reality, it’s his first time standing at your doorstep, first time knocking on your door, and definitely the first step he’s ever had the chance to get a glimpse of how your living room looks like.

You’re still gaping at the entrance with the door open and you’re sure if any of your neighbors were to step out of their homes, they’d just see a lone girl outside that looked a little too unnerved to bother. When you snap out of it and turn your body to face your visitor, he’s already made himself comfortable on your couch and it’s hard to piece together the fact that Jimin was quite in fact in your living room, and lounging on your couch, staring at your television like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“W-What—how?” You croak because there are about ten million different thoughts running through your head but the most pressing one is how Jimin looked … different.

A good difference, for sure. He’s always been handsome and unreasonably so. Especially with the way that he’s dyed his hair back to black and the gentle fluff of how it lays atop his head. You note that he still kept his style despite him going MIA for three years and wore slacks that shaped his legs (and butt) beautifully with a casual shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants. It was unfair how effortlessly good-looking he was on a spontaneous occasion while you looked anything but, especially with your sweats and old tank top.

But Jimin had always been a little hard to read. Terrifying and brassy all at once but never obstructive—although you’d argue that his presence was the obstruction as it is of how distracted you feel whenever he was around you years ago. It’s like you never learned how to accommodate his presence because he happened to fill every space with just his body even if he wasn’t that tall.

“I thought I’d pay a visit. Your brother gave me your address.” He says, finally turning his head to face you, and its still blank like every expression you remember made towards you. You expected nothing more or nothing less than the way he stares you over and makes you feel like the outsider in your own home.

“Yoongi …” You grit, cursing your brother mentally and hoping he’d make use of that stupid sibling telepathy power he claims he has to receive your gripe.

You clear your throat as you awkwardly shuffle closer towards the couch and hover awkwardly by the arm of the sofa to keep your distance. It’s been years and it’s still a little unfamiliar to see Jimin right in front of you, and not someone you kept at the back of your mind.

“You could’ve called …” You say softly while fiddling with your thumbs. Jimin just raises an eyebrow at you and you feel stupid for saying that already.

Some things don’t change and it’s proven when your heart still beats the same when he’s around you. You cursed at yourself for being weak-willed because you thought time would help you get over your silly crush on Jimin but you also long acknowledged the fact that it wasn’t just a crush. It was more.

You hated falling for the cliches of crushing on your brother’s best friend, especially one that was just emotionally reserved and detached ninety percent of the time. The only conversations you remember having with Jimin were the ones that you were blushing at him when he looked at you a little longer than usual, or when he drove you to and from school when Yoongi left for university.

But then he disappeared, without saying goodbye and you only found out from his parents that he got into a dance program abroad and packed his things and left. Obviously, twenty-year-old you was devastated because you somehow convinced yourself that he enjoyed your presence even if he was huffing and puffing every five minutes when you’d fall into a ramble of your own.

He changed his number and he wasn’t a social media person so you had no idea what he was doing or how he was, besides the occasional mention of his name in conversations you had with your brother. It sucked. Majorly. Because you really liked him even if he was cold because you knew that Jimin was a good person. A cold and shitty person wouldn’t pat you on your head before your wisdom teeth extraction and mumble it’s okay if he wasn’t kind.

“The place is nice.” He ignores your statement and glances around your apartment and you feel smaller. You do feel a little relieved that he approved of the place, and you did spend hours browsing through catalogues and going through roommates until you decided that this was perfect. Granted, it was a little pricey but you valued comfort and a decent workplace to really get you motivated.

“Thank you.” You mumble, still shifting on the balls of your feet and Jimin just raises an eyebrow at your impersonal stance. You know he wouldn’t point it out because he wasn’t that kind of guy, but his face often spoke for him so you swallowed all the concerns you had and took a seat at the edge of the sofa, as far away from him as possible.

“Do you live alone?” He asks. You’re about to respond but he doesn’t let you.

“It’s dangerous if you do. Do you really just answer the door for anyone without checking who it is? You’ll get yourself into some serious trouble if you aren’t careful.” He chides you.

You want to scoff at him because you were an adult and you’ve learnt a few things along the road to adulthood. Jimin was always a little on edge most of the time and you knew he was just bad at expressing his emotions so you never faulted him for it. But now, you were a little older and not as naive—but unfortunately still very much into him.

“God Jimin, it’s fine—”

The door opens and both your heads immediately turn to the source, and Jimin is sharp with his movements and you try to not allow your heart to flutter when he tugs you closer to him and hides your body with his own as if he thought it was an intruder. But you knew better, so you knew it was—

“Tae. You’re back early.” You greet your roommate who only eyes the man on the couch who has you situated behind him like he was your personal shield. His bag is tugged over his shoulder and you see a few of his art supplies threatening to fall out so you hop off the couch to help him with his belongings, and Jimin’s gaze just burns harder onto the back of your skull.

When you’re close enough, Taehyung leans in and gives a brief glance over at Jimin who is still piercing him with a fierce gaze.

“Why is your booty call staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens?” Taehyung whisper yells and you glare at him, pinching his hip because just because he thought he was being quiet didn’t mean that he could easily get rid of his naturally loud voice.

“That is not my booty call!” You respond equally as agitated, “That’s … Jimin.”

Taehyung’s eyes bulge out of his socket when he looks over your shoulder once more to still see Jimin glaring at the two of you.

“Why is he so fucking scary? You said he was nice!” Taehyung hisses.

“He is nice!” You weakly defend, “He’s just … scary looking?”

You know it doesn’t convince Taehyung because he’s sighing and dropping his belongings to the floor, offering Jimin as sincere of a smile as he can muster even though you’re fully aware that he’s terrified of the man on your living room couch.

“Hi! I didn’t know _____ was having guests over. I’m Taehyung.” He smiles brightly at said guest but Jimin just blinks at his cordiality and then looks over to you.

“Is he your boyfriend?” The question throws you off guard and you can tell that Taehyung even more terrified when Jimin completely ignores his presence even though he was the tallest person in the room.

You splutter for a response even if the answer to that was obvious. But Jimin had a shitty way of interrogating people, even if it probably would work in legal settings because he was just terrifying enough for you to stumble over your words and make you look guiltier than you were.

“Unfortunately not.” Taehyung thinks he’s saving you when he lightly jokes with Jimin. And you want to facepalm because Jimin was aloof and impartial to everything, and had horrible skills of reading the room because you were sure that Jimin thought that Taehyung wanted to get in your pants.

“Tae, would you excuse us for a second?” You smile stiffly at Taehyung who is quick to oblige as he darts into his room.

Jimin now has his arms folded across his chest in a manner that makes him look more hostile, but you knew him well enough that you suppose he just had a lot of questions.

“Did you really have to be like that?” You ask irritably as Jimin scoffs at you.

“Please, do enlighten me. All I did was ask you a simple question, which you couldn’t even answer. What was that about?” Jimin responds equally as displeased but you had so many questions and you didn’t need to deal with his mini tantrum right now, especially between the walls of your own home.

“Don’t turn this on me! You turned up to my house unannounced after three years of no contact and you expect me to bend at your will? What do you take me for? A puppet?” You retaliate with petulancy and you can tell Jimin is slowly getting more annoyed by the second but won’t blow up just yet. Or probably because you had another person in the house.

“Am I not allowed to visit?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.

You scoff at his audacity because Jimin was seriously so bad at reading emotions. You weren’t even sure why you liked him but your heart never made reasonable decisions for you.

“We haven’t spoken in years, Jimin!” You throw your hands in the air, “I didn’t even know where you were or what you were doing because you disappeared like you were running away from a crime!”

“Did I need to update you on my whereabouts?” You know his question is genuine even though it was posed a little rough and you want to pull at your hair because obviously, you wanted to know! Jimin was the person you spent the most time with, outside of school, and one day he wasn’t anymore.

“Of course! I thought we were—I thought … why did you just disappear?” For some reason, it was hard to say that you and Jimin were friends either because the only reason why he’d ever tolerate you in the first place was that he was a good friend to Yoongi and you were just someone that came with it by association. He never outwardly said that he hated spending time with you but he never said he enjoyed it either.

Jimin raises an eyebrow and stands up, and you notice that he still towers over you. He walks towards you slowly, and you feel all the hotter under his intense scrutiny that you just want to retreat to your bedroom and forget this ever happened.

“You don’t need to know.” He says and you feel yourself deflate, “I wanted to visit because your brother’s worried about you.”

The confession just annoys you because you knew to a certain extent that Jimin wouldn’t be here from … wherever he was … if it was only for your brother. He had to give a shit somewhere deep down in him enough to make an effort to get your address from your brother, then turn up on your doorstep unannounced with his usual impassioned stare.

“Oh fuck off, will you? I’m not a little girl anymore. I can take care of myself.” You bite back.

Jimin shoots you an unimpressed stare at your snappishness and he won't lie and say that he was pleasantly surprised to see you after a long time. You were always pretty, in an unconventional way, he supposes. You never made an effort to look nice but just did with the way you approached life, even when you were younger. But now that you were standing in front of him with a bite that you didn't have when he left, he's intrigued.

"You weren't so rude before I left." He smirks at you.

His gaze also makes you burn and you avoid his eyes when it searches for yours. You hate that his tone makes you feel funny and that you wanted him to be a little mean.

"Yeah, well—that's what happens when you don't see someone after three years with no contact or notice. They change. They get a little annoyed because someone is just too emotionally constipated to ever make any effort to keep in touch." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Why are you throwing a hissy fit? Needed me to keep you company?" He prompts.

You flush but still glare at him.

"Whatever, Jimin. I just would've appreciated it if you called. Or at least have done something to let me know that you were alive." You mutter.

Somehow, he's managed to cage you in with his body against the back of the sofa, and your breath hitches when you feel his broad chest pressed on yours. You didn't realise it happened until he places his arms by your side, effectively leaving you with no room to leave. You gulp because this is the closest you've ever been to Jimin and you feel dizzy. He smells fresh like laundry and flowers. It's a huge juxtaposition to his demeanour, but he smells good and you want to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

"Why would I? You're Yoongi's sister. Not my girlfriend." He smirks.

You huff and roll your eyes. The reminder stings a little and you know he's baiting you.

"So? Were we not at least friends?" You snap.

He wants to laugh because you're obviously annoyed at the casual way he referred to you as Yoongi's little sister. You're frowning but attempting to pretend that it didn't bother you.

Jimin would be lying if he said he was never interested. Because he was, undoubtedly so. But back then when you were still navigating your way at the beginning of adulthood with Yoongi constantly breathing down his neck, he would have never done anything to compromise his friendship with your brother; or lead you on. But now you were standing in front of him, soft and sweet with a little edge to you that draws him in.

"Do you usually have crushes on your friends?" He pushes.

Your eyes widen and snap up to look at his teasing expression. His smirk is apparent against the rest of his face and you feel absolutely mortified that he's so close to you when he called you out.

"W-What? A crush? I didn't have a crush on you!" You rebuff him with a stuttery voice and you weakly try to push him away.

But he locks you in position with his hands around your wrist as he leans down and crowds you further with his presence.

"You didn't?" He feigns hurt, then he pulls away abruptly and you're immediately chasing his warmth, "Shame. I would've liked that a lot."

You gape at him when he shuffles away, putting some distance between the two of you as he dusts his hands on his slacks, giving you a curt smile; one that never reached his eyes but that was still Jimin being friendly.

"Y-You what ...?" You squeak.

Jimin shrugs and walks towards your door and you're half-terrified and half-relieved at the prospect of him leaving. But you're more terrified because you don't know if you'll ever see him again and with your current interaction you don't think you'll ever get over him.

"Usually a cute girl crushing on me would be a huge ego boost ... but you didn't, so ..." He trails off.

You bite your lips as you play with your hands. You know he's teasing you and you didn't know when he's gotten so forward, or good at this game. But you suppose Jimin has always been charming too, even if he was bad at emotions. He was good at playing them. And the way he rakes his eyes over your body only to bite his lip makes you burn in want.

He's about to turn the knob of your door but you reach out to grab his wrist before your mind can tell you it's a bad idea.

"W-What if I ... what if I ..." You mumble, hands wrapped loosely around his wrist as he turns around, leaning against the door the way boys do that was super hot for no reason.

"Speak up, bunny."

The nickname only makes you blush harder because it reminded you of all the times he's ever called you that stupid childhood nickname that somehow followed you up until adulthood. But you had to admit the way that Jimin uses it makes you feel ...warm. Like you want him to call you bunny for whatever reason he does so.

"WhatifIdid ...?" You mutter quickly and softly that Jimin leans in to get a better listen, also prompting you to speak louder.

"Couldn't hear you." He sing-songs.

You grit your teeth and swallow your pride because even after three years, you were soft and pliant for Park Jimin even if he was hot to the touch. You just wanted to please him.

"What if I did?" You say a little louder, braver, with determined eyes, "What if I did have a crush on you?"

He grins at you in Jimin fashion that was still a little reserved but warm because you knew him. You knew that was what he wanted to hear. So, he rests his body against the door and gestures his finger in a come-hither motion to get you to step closer, which you oblige. It should've been offensive that he could summon you so easily, but Jimin was a lot of things but he would never take advantage of your passiveness.

"I don't know. What would you have done if I hadn't left? Play friends? Family maybe?" He teases.

You scrunch your nose at the prospect of playing family with him because you've heard that phrase way too many times. Your parents at one point kept on saying how you had two older brothers instead of one because Jimin was always there, but they were blissfully unaware of your crush and the way you'd frown at the suggestion.

"We would've hung out more ..." You mumble.

Jimin snorts but cocks his head for you to continue.

"What's the point of this?" You huff, shutting your eyes when you can feel his gaze on you.

"You tell me. You were the one with the crush."

You want to correct him and say am the one with the crush, but you bite your tongue.

"You're the one who wants to know." You respond with indignation.

He chuckles, low and deep before he tilts your chin upwards with his index finger.

"You're still a little girl, aren't you ______?" You think it's the first time Jimin has called your name the entire time he's been here and you almost whine with the sultry look he's giving you.

Jimin applauds his self-control because you were a sight to behold. Even if you were in sweats and a tank, with your glasses drooping slightly down your nose and tangled hair, you still were so appealing even if you didn't know. You looked comfortable, homey and it did make Jimin burn with an ugly monster to know that 'Tae' could see you like this daily.

"Am not." You growl, but he only thinks you look like an angry bunny.

"You are. You don't know how to ask for things, hm?" He hums, tracing a finger up your jaw to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I so do know how to ask for things that I want. I do it all the time." You retort petulantly like you had a point to prove but Jimin only chuckles darkly.

"Then what do you want right now?"

Jimin's question is expected but it also throws you off-guard.

"R-Right n-now?" You stutter.

He tuts as if he expected your bewildered and shocked expression.

"When else but now, bunny?" He whispers as his gaze has you locked in a trance when your eyes dart to his lips when he drags his tongue over it. You're entrapped in him because his mouth suddenly looked really inviting.

"I really wanna ..." You mumble, ears flushing a pretty shade of red and you lean into Jimin's hand when he cradles your cheek gently.

Jimin was capable of being gentle, even though he chose not to. But he never was, though there was something about you that made his territorial, made him want to fight. He didn't know when he started feeling this way but he supposed it was a flurry of emotions and the accumulation of the times he's spent with you throughout the years. Three years didn't do him justice and only made him think of you more. He knew he was hard to read, and frankly even harder to understand. Jimin also knew that you were fully aware of this fact. But that didn't deter you in trying to get to know him, to prick yourself against all his edges that were harder to accept.

You were sweet and naive, a type of person that Jimin would usually scoff at. But your one-dimensional and idealistic view of the world was fresh to him, even if that meant you were living in your head most of the time. It never took away from the fact that you were kind and understanding. The type of person that cracked all of Jimin's harshness made him want to try.

But it didn't mean he wasn't going to have his fun. He liked seeing you like this, gentle and warm, close to him as you look at him with a hazy expression.

"Wanna do what?" He prods, reaching his hand to the back of your hair to tug your face closer to his, but maintaining enough distance to prompt you to make the first move.

Jimin would do it. But he wanted to be sure that you wanted this, and not the idea of him. Sure, he was giving you hints and nudging you, but he also was aware of the fact that you'd never say or do anything that you didn't want. You were always clear-cut about this type of thing.

"You know ... that ... thing ..." You mumble, shifting on your feet as he glances down to your face.

You still looked unsure, but you leaned into his hold regardless, and Jimin took that as a good sign. You just need a little push.

"You know I'm not that bright. You need to tell me, bunny." He says gently.

You can't stop the small whimper in the back of your throat at the nickname and it's taking everything in Jimin's willpower to not take you against this wall. He would, but you deserved sweet things and he wanted to try be that for you.

"I ... I wanna ..." You whisper, "Wanna ... kiss you."

You clutch his t-shirt in his hands and when you glance up he's grinning widely as if he's won the lottery.

He nods his head ever so softly, and you take that as a cue to lean in.

When you do kiss him, you already feel your knees buckling because it's like everything you dreamed and more. Jimin was the right amount of assertive and gentle that makes you chase his mouth even if you were pressed up against him. He takes the lead eventually when his hand cups your jaw to angle your mouth deeper into his, and your body flush against his.

You feel like a teenager again having your first kiss, but it may as well be because you've always wondered what it was like to share your first kiss with Jimin back in high school.

"Is that all?" He whispers against your lips, but before you can respond—

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry!" You hear Taehyung squeak and that makes you pull away from Jimin, highly embarrassed to be caught making out with him against your door like a horny teenager.

You want to curse at Taehyung but he's already ducking into the kitchen before you can get any words out.

Jimin doesn't look affected, if anything, he looks pleased. The moment you shared a clear testament of who you belonged to and Jimin loved the fact of people knowing it was him.

When you look at Jimin, you're equally parts flushed from the kiss but giddy too. You give him a shy smile, and Jimin just chuckles lowly at your bashfulness.

"I'll see you around, ______," Jimin smirks at you when he reaches for the doorknob to leave. You follow him out, wanting a little more privacy even if it was in the hallway of your apartment complex.

When Jimin steps out and with you behind him, you swing on your feet as he observes your next actions. You clear your throat, even though you were confused and glad—because that was the closest thing you could get from Jimin that was affection so you'd take it.

"So ... what does this ..." You mumble, before shaking your head.

Jimin raises an eyebrow.

"What did I say about asking for what you want?" He berates you as if he was speaking to a child, but his tone is still curt and a little detached, but very like Jimin. You know that it's him and you like that anyways.

"Don't make me say it ... it's already embarrassing as it is ..." You whine, burying your head into his t-shirt.

Jimin welcomes the sudden closeness and pats you softly on the head. It's a little stiff because he still isn't used to physical affection that wasn't 'intimate', but he did say he would try for you.

"Again: I'm not that bright." He teases.

You roll your eyes, but then bite your lips when you see he's waiting for a response.

"... what does this mean for us?" You ask softly.

Jimin smiles at you and decides to grant you a gentle kiss to your forehead. A kiss that was so domestic and soft that you feel your heart soar.

"Check your phone." Is all he says when he waves you goodbye, as you stare at him dumbly, heart still fluttering and cheeks burning.

When you return back into your home, you lean against your door as you press a hand to your chest to feel the way your heart beats rapidly against it. You feel weak in the knees but so blissful that you let out a squeal into the palm of your hands.

Once you've calmed down, and offered Taehyung a look that said you'll explain later—you rush to check your phone, only to smile at what lies on the screen.

Unknown Number [17:21]: hi bunny

Unknown Number [17:21]: save my contact

Unknown Number [17:21]: make sure that when people see it they'll know you're mine

Unknown Number [17:22]: see you soon

Unknown Number [17:22]: if you're still a little slow ... it's jimin

Unknown Number [17:25]: ❤️

You notice the heart emoji was sent a few minutes after the rest of his texts, which showed you that he may have contemplated whether or not to send it. You feel your heart flutter, as you plop back onto your bed, a wide grin splaying on your face.

extra scene

"I'm sorry ... what?" Yoongi chokes on the piece of meat he just shoved into his mouth as he stares at his best friend in the face as if he'd grown another head. But as usual, he seemed to only attract people that were vastly similar to him, and Jimin's face is unreadable as ever. But Yoongi knows he's serious and not fucking around because he's looking intently at the older boy for a response.

"So?" Jimin says casually, leaning into his seat and Yoongi needs to chug down a glass of water to ensure that the food goes down all the way before he can say anything to the question Jimin just posed him with.

"You want my sister's address ... to ... I'm sorry, correct me if I'm wrong but I had a fall and I may have a concussion so I don't know if I'm hearing things right," Yoongi deadpans but Jimin just rolls his eyes at the older one's dramatics before nodding his head for him to continue.

"You want her address to ... confess to her?" Yoongi says hesitantly and Jimin nods his head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But it wasn't. Because as long as Yoongi's known Jimin, he's been all detached and broody, uninterested in everything and everyone. He's never shown the slightest interest in anyone and usually opted for casual hookups than actual relationships so clearly, Yoongi is a little skeptical.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi asks baffled.

Jimin nods, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yes. I went for a medical check-up that day and my doctor said he's never seen results as impeccable as mine." Jimin says blandly.

Yoongi scoffs.

"You're just not ... the dating type, you know? Much less ... with my sister?" It sounds weird to even Yoongi's ears. He grew out of his childish mindset and had no problem with Jimin dating you, but it was still weird to see his best friend showing interest in you.

"I like her. And I respect you. Which is why I came to you before I did anything."

Yoongi gapes at his best friend, who looks much softer than he usually does.

"Wow ... I just ..." Yoongi exhales, "Damn."

Jimin offers a small smile before gesturing to their food.

"At least we can really be brothers now." Yoongi jokes, sliding a piece of paper with your address on it to Jimin.

Jimin smiles fondly at the paper before tucking it into his shirt jacket.

The image of you in white, smiling and looking only at him drives him to see you the next day.

[xavadak3davrax]

The Burden of Time

The Burden of Time

Vampire! Fred

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: Daddy kink, Dom fem reader sub Fred, Dom Fred sub reader. cum play? idk if I would call it exacly that, but they taste each other. There’s mentions of violance, blood and biting into the reader. Once again i’m sorry if I forgot something and please say something if I did :) 

Summary: Fred as lived on this earth for a long time, and y/n is the cute new worker at the local bakery. 

a/n: So hi! If you don’t like supernatural stuff you can just totally skip this. If this is your type but you’re not sure if you like it, that’s also totally ok! I just did this because my need for vampire stuff came into play and yeah... i just needed to get this out of my system. Also once again, I just really apreciate you all so much, thank you. 

Part 2 

Fred has lived on this earth for several decades. In all honesty he had lost count of how many years it has been since he was put into this state of immortality. For many this life is hard to get too, the denial phase for them prolongs for thousands of years, the idea of killing other people all because you desire their blood, their flesh. For Fred it was quiet the opposite. Fred had been turned at the ripe age of twenty five, he was working in the forest near the house he lived at with his family when he was attacked by something. At the time he was suspicious of a bear, or a tiger or any other animal that they might know it did not exist. He came to find out after that a vampire was roaming near by his house and had caught his scent and couldn’t resist, so Fred had become this. His family had never found him, the vampire made sure after he was well fed that Fred was kept hidden specially during the transition, because it was very hard on anyone. Fred would wake up with the thirst of a thousand animals and he his creator couldn’t bare for him to destroy his whole family.

After all, it wasn’t Fred’s fault of what had happened and of what he had become. It took a while after being turned came to the conclusion and acceptance that he wouldn’t see his family again, that he wouldn’t touch them or feel them, or talk to them ever again. After a while Fred became use to that life. He had always dreaded death. It was something that scared him and made shivers appear all over his body. He hated seeing people around him die, and think about where they were going, if they were going somewhere. Did their lives ended their? He couldn’t really bring himself to think of him inside that wooden casket and … it was just something he didn’t want to think about. So, after being turned and his creator, Joseph, explaining everything to him and of this new life Fred was at peace. He didn’t have to think about death anymore, in fact he gained peace when it came that. Of course there’s always that small chance that he can be killed, but Fred always made sure he wasn’t getting himself in ay trouble that would allow for that to happen.

Also one of the reasons Fred was so at peace was because he broke one of the biggest rules there is in his species. He had contact with humans after being turned. Can you blame him? He did promise to stay way from his family, so that they could cope his death and morn him and he could find some peace. But he had to break that when his parents were on death bed.

His father was first, dying of old age, in the last hours he would be on this earth, Fred came to visit, when he knew his mother or any other family member would be around. Although without a soul, Fred still felt all the love his parents gave him, and he swore if he could he would have cried there, seeing his father so helpless. He thought for a moment if he should…but then he would be condemning his father to something he never believed in, or probably never thought of. So Fred stayed in that room, held his fathers warm hand against his very cold one and spoke some loving brief words. He had to let him know he was okay, he knew their parents had never gotten over his ‘death’. So this was way of knowing when his father was gone, we would be at peace. Fred watched him take his last breath, a small smile on his father’s face , and his name was the last thing he had said before being gone completely. Fred left almost immediately because his mother had made an appearance not long after that.

His mother had left him a few years after. And this time it was harder for Fred to be close to her because since his father wasn’t here anymore, his siblings were the ones who were there all the time, and like the good kids their mother had raised them to be, they were by her side every second that was possible. It was one day, when his sister Ginny was in the leaving room playing with her daughter and the door of his mother’s room had been left closed that Fred took his chance.

He remembers, the look in his mothers eyes, she barely could speak, but she didn’t hesitate one second to, with all her strength, stretch her hand to him, and Fred took it and squeezed it and murmured how much he loved her, how much he had missed her and, like he had done with his father, that he was okay, that she could be at peace and could meet his father wherever it would be, and they could know he was good.

With his siblings he had to take another approach, he had to watch from afar at the funeral, mourning each one as he saw them pass, they all hurt like hell, but seeing his twin brother, George, go and not be able to be next to him and say goodbye was probably the bad thing at he top of the list Fred had to point, relating to this life. He didn’t have many to point.

After they were all gone, his immediate family he could finally leave that place, although he always made sure he got back and kept an eye on his family. Thru the decades he watched the family grow. Right now he actually lived close to one of them, he was a baker at Fred’s favorite bakery.

His main and most important source of food was in fact Blood, but sometimes to get thru life and situations he had to eat human food.  Although not poisonous and deathly it usually left him a little nauseous after. But he could never deny a good cake or sweet, so every morning after he woke up (when he could sleep) he would get dressed and go there.

He was already use to the smell of blood and Fred was proud to say that he had so much control compared to a lot of other blood thirst monsters he had encountered in his life time, and there were a lot. And the places he visited the most were places were the people who worked there had a neutral blood smell to him, something that he could take and live with and know he wouldn’t get into a horrible fit and cause a very bad scene.

But today, as Fred entered the warm cozy bakery at only seven thirty am, a strong sweet vanilla and mint scent hit his nostrils. His fists became a ball and he could feel his eyes wanting to become red. He had to stop at the door before fully closing it to regain his strength, and to think twice if he wanted to get in or not. But the cute boy behind the counter who Fred found very attractive since he had began working here years ago didn’t allow him to do that because he had already called his name.

“Fred, good morning.” The happy, pale guy, with blonde hair and the greenest eyes he had ever seen said. His name was Philip. Fred gave the best smile he could muster up.

“Good morning.” He was usually a very cheery costumer, he always made small talk with Philip and loved to see him squirm under his look, and give him that sweet smile of him. But today his mind could only think of who could have such a sweet scent that evaded everything in him, his smell, his mind and his thirst.

The bakery was still empty, they had only open thirty minutes ago, and Fred was almost always their first costumer, so it couldn’t be that. It had to be someone behind the counter.

“Today I’m not the one who you should ask what you wish, although I already know your regular.” He said, giving Fred a wink, any other time Fred would have taken a chance to actually do something about that small talk they always had, but today wouldn’t be that today. “y/n here will do it instead.” He said, and in that moment from the door that led to the kitchen and into the counter came out a girl, her hair was tucked behind, and tied in as to not get into the food. She wore the bakery’s apron, and underneath that she wore a very cozy black sweater, along with some black pants and some boots.

As she got out she gave her colloeague a smile and then looked at Fred and kept her smile.

“Hi, I’m y/n. I’m new here. What would you like for your order?” y/n asked, her hands close to the screen of the machine in front of her to register his order and then get onto it.

Fred cleared his throat at the same time he tried to clear his mind. Her scent was intoxicating and he couldn’t find anything to say, she was also extremely beautiful. And also a human.

“Ahm, it’s the red velvet cake with the hot chocolate, with caramel, please.” His voice came out strangled, and a little to low, stripped of the confidence he always had. He got closer to the register and although it was part of him but he didn’t really need to, he always made sure it looked like he was breathing, so people wouldn’t suspect. When alone he would only do that when he was hunting. He looked at Philip that had his eyes on y/n and what she was doing to make sure she was doing it right.

“You’re her first costumer.” He said, he put his elbow on the glass counter and supported his head on his hand looking at Fred with those cute puppy eyes, but unfortunately his attention was on the girl.

He could only nod, and when y/n got away from the counter to prepare his order his eyes followed her every move.

“So, the red velvet cake, and your hot chocolate caramel, that will be, six dollars please.” She looked from the screen to him, and now that he was closer to her she felt less confident. The look he had on him, dominant and dark made her spine cripple with shivers and her hands shake a little. He was also beautiful so to speak. He was tall, which y/n loved that on man, she loved a good tall man that could man handle her. His red hair and those yellow eyes were something out of this world.

Fred was able to keep his eyes yellow, which was a sign that his next feeding was close, because the reddish color they always had, had disappeared and been replaced with this yellow, brilliant color. That was always a problem for him to explain why he had that eye color. He wasn’t very much into using eye contacts.

He took the money he had in his pocked and put it on top of the counter. usually, with Philip he made sure to give it to him to his hands, and feel him get all red and blushy because they had touched. But he thought that if he were to do that with this girl right now, that the outcome would be a lot worst.

“Tomorrow we’re gonna have lemon cake, it’s very good and my favorite, you should try it.” y/n, although feeling intimidated by him, still kept her happy voice.

She was new here, this was her first day after being hired last week. This bakery existed since she was small and a baby, her mother always brought her here, and so working here was her dream job, specially since baking was her favorite thing. She was the one who always did those cool cakes at the parties and her friends and family would always come to her. When the spot had opened after one of the girls in the kitchen had been fired for stealing, she took this opportunity. She was still young, only twenty one, she had a small little apartment at the end of the street, where the cheapest and less expensive and modern part of the town started, but it was everything she could wish for and she made it work. She wasn’t in college, but her dream was to be able to go to culinary school. But she was still saving money for that one.

When Fred had finally gain all his confidence and make himself has presentable as he could in this situation he was finally able to give a genuine smile.

“Of course, if you’ll be here.” He said, but this time looked at Philip, gave him that smirk and then looked at y/n to see her eyes wide and her mouth fighting to stay closed. “See you tomorrow, loves.” He said, took the little bag y/n had put his things in and left.

As soon as he was out the door, the gasp that left y/n was huge and Philip was clapping his hands excitedly.

“Did you see the way he looked at you? Is he always this flirty?” y/n was genuinely curious, for a second when he got in he was so quiet, and almost scared, that this last interaction came to her as a surprise. Philip nodded smiling.

“I think he’s bi, you see.” He started, starting to organize some things that should have been done sooner but the Fred had came in. “He already brought many girls here, but I’ve also seen him with some guys. And he comes here since I can remember and way before I started working here. And then I started here and he always flirted with me. But that’s the extent of it.” y/n was nodding, listening closely. “But he also looked interested in you, did you see? They way he looked at you? I don’t think he’s ever looked at me like that.”

“He’s very beautiful. And looks rich too.” y/n looked at Philip, a puzzling look o her face.

“He lives on that penthouse, near the museum.” Shit, y/n thought, that guy was rich, rich.

People who lived in this area of the bakery and close to the museum were rich, rich. She could only ever dream of living there. And the penthouse, she remembers that old building being remolded a few years back, and the way it was town gossip because they had used millions of unknown dollars to build it, all while the poor were strolling to pay taxes and basic things to live. She remembers her and her mother doubling their time on the nearest shelter to help with food and clothes and things to keep the ones in need, warm. All while the rich were… well living their best lives.

Philip felt the need to continue, after a minute of silence from y/n and the frown that had appeared on her face. “He helps more than you know. He’s donated to every place around here and he’s the first to help if anything happened in those communities. I don’t know if you ever heard, or even remember, but that very bad weather we had, and pipes burst open and all, the responsible of the town took him weeks to help with anything. Fred came right up, presented a stupid amount of money and that’s how thing got better. He also hates the rich, every time he comes and talks a bit more he can only talk bad about them.” He laughed a little.

That somehow had made y/n a little less mad and sad. He cared and helped.

“What exactly does he do to have that much money?” y/n asked, curiosity coming to her. Philip shrugged.

“I don’t know, he never told and I never asked, and no one really knows around here because we don’t seem him actually working you know?”

All she could do was nod, but her mind a little lost, his eyes came to her mind, and his pink lips, dry from the cold weather outside. She shook her head quickly and brought herself back to reality and into her work place. She had a long day ahead of her.

--

The next, at six am y/n was opening the bakery along with Philip. Since they had left early the day before, they got the job to open today, and they had to be there on time because all the people in the kitchen who did all the baking needed to get started.

y/n was still sleepy, her eyes swollen from the lack of sleep. Her arms were bunched up around herself to keep her warm, even though she had layers of clothing and the warmest jacket ever, given to her by her mother last Christmas.

“Hurry up, I’m cold.” y/n said, pushing Philip playfully, and when he finally did they hurried inside and close the door again to keep the warm inside.

After getting herself ready, and since Philip was preparing the costumer area she was in the kitchen looking at everyone working. This was her second day but most of the people here were her family, since they all knew her since she was little. And since they also knew her love for baking, they, sometimes let her in and decorate cakes herself. Since working here, in these two day, well one, she hadn’t been asked yet, but she was hopeful they would.

“I hope mister Fred Weasley decides to eat here today and not take his food.” y/n looked at him, they were both behind the counter counting the last few minutes before they officially opened. “He doesn’t always, but sometimes if he brings company he does. He never ate here alone, though, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“I wasn’t gonna get any hopes up, Philip. I’ve had one interaction with him, that lasted all of three minutes, I think.” She gave a confused look, she wasn’t exactly sure of long she had talked to him, and between preparing his food and him paying and leaving. “You can have him all you want, I’m sure any cute girl can walk in here and I’ll be happy.” Philip looked at her a big smile on his face.

y/n was never closed about her sexuality. Her mother was always and had always been very loving even when she knew (before y/n officially told her) that her daughter was attracted to girls. y/n’s first ever romantic interaction had been with a girl. She was never scared of being her true self.

“Whatever, the way he looked at you? I’m sure you could punch him in the face and he would say thank you.” Philip smirked, and got from behind the counter to open the door.

For the first ten minutes no one came in, but after that they started to get easy. Some people came to pick up bread, some their coffee, others some treats for the day. And then after eight people started to actually stay inside. But Fred was no where to be seen, and Philip pointed out how weird that was because he came here everyday without missing. Unless he was out of town, but then he always took enough treats with him to last him the full time he was gone.

Until nine am hit, Philip and y/n were having their pause, after an hour of craziness when he got in, gray sweat pants, a white seat shirt on and some tennis. He had a more relaxed look o him, compared to yesterday where he had more of a casual look.

“Morning.” He smiled to both of them, although his look lingered a bit longer on y/n. She smiled, getting ready to take in his order. She had forgotten yesterday that she had suggested the lemon cake, and since Philip told her that his order right now was the one he asked for yesterday she was ready for.

“Morning, is gonna be the red velvet cake and the hot chocolate caramel?” y/n kept her eyes on the screen, trying to not look at him directly, in fear her legs might collapse from how strong his look was on her.

“If I remember correctly, you suggested I try the lemon cake, was that correct?” he took one of the hands that was in his pocket and came to ruffle his already messy hair. Had he just woken up? y/n swallowed hard, Fred heard, they was it went down her dry throat. He could also hear her heart, beating faster after he came in, and the her pulse and her blood running in her veins. He wasn’t very far from her, but even if he was he would be able to smell her in a crowd of people. Her scent something he had never felt before in all his long years of life. His fangs threatening to come out, his venom already trying to make it’s way into them. Control yourself, Fred thought.

“Ahm, yes, I did, sir?” Sir? Come on y/n he’s not that older. Sir? Her mind making her every move feel weird and like he was judging her. Little did she know Fred got of on names like that, and it made it even harder for him to contain his pointy teeth. “Would like that, with the same beverage?”  When he nodded, y/n put the last things there and went to prepare.

“To eat here, please.” Philip was shocked, and he didn’t want to show it but Fred was able to feel his change, the smallest detail that silly human eyes couldn’t detect even if they wanted too. y/n was also surprised, but she hid it better, Fred noticed. He knew it was unusual, he only came here to eat when he brought all of his hook ups. Never alone. This was a first.  

She only nodded, directing her route to pick up a plate on where to put his cake, and then making his chocolate. All while he made small talk with Philip.

“Here you go, it’s seven dollars, today.” He gave her the money, three dollars more than the final total.

“Keep the change, beauty.” She winked at her, and then picked up his stuff and went to sit at the table by the window.

“Well, that went…”

“well.” y/n finished for Philip, and they both laughed a little. Her laugh stoping when she noticed his eyes were on her the full time he was eating. And how fucking sexual did he have to make that? The way he bit down on the cake, without his fork, with his hands on it going all messy. A hot feeling spread over y/n. his gingers got all dirty with he buttercream, but instead of going for the napkin, he brough his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them. His fingers would also get all sticky after that. The smirk he had on him was sinful, and y/n had to turn around and occupy herself before her mind got to dirty and her panties to wet.

Two days, to freaking days and she’s already getting her mind dirty over some guy? Some rich, also mysterious guy that looked like he came out of a movie? She needed to get her head straight.

Her luck was that other costumers were coming in, some looking surprised at seeing Fred here. From what Philip explained to her later that day when they were organizing their things to leave, it was a very rare sight, since he was completely alone.

“y/n, I’m so sorry can I speak with you for a minute?” It was their boss, Melissa, she was the most kind sould y/n had ever seen, red hair, like Fred’s and a big smile always plastered on her face. y/n nodded, putting her bag back down.

“I’ll wait for you.” Philip said. And y/n nodded going with her boss to little room where she took care of everything related to the bakery but not related to baking.

“I’m so sorry, I know you were getting ready to leave, but the person responsible for closing today, can’t come. They had an emergency. Would you mind doing it? I know it would be your first time, but Philip did all of last week and I can’t bring myself to ask him that.” It was the gentle tone to her voice, the friendly way she always approached y/n that made her say yes, and think how hard it would be to say no.

“Sure, I can do that. I just have to warn Philip to leave without me.”

“Thank you so much my dear, really. And tomorrow you can come in later.” She gave y/n the key and smiled politely before allowing her to leave. She warned Philip who proceeded to leave. And y/n suck up some more hours until closing.

--

It was midnight when the last person in the kitchen left. y/n helped them clean what was necessary so she could also leave. Because they had stopped serving to costumers a little while ago, but the kitchen remained open to prepare things for the next day.

She was all alone, and truth be told the street where the bakery was, had very little light. So y/n had her phones lantern on, closing the door as fast as she could, so she could head home. The street was also silent and she didn’t know what to make of it. Was it good or bad? Might be good because then it meant she could be safe until home, but bad because at anytime anyone could show up and she would be all alone and defenseless.

She started to walk down the street towards where she lived when a group of man started to walk on the same lane she was in. She wanted to move, she really wanted, but at the same it would bring attention to her and she didn’t want any more unnecessary attention.

They passed her in silence, but then another shadow appear on the other side of the street, and she squinted really hard to see who it was until she realized it was Fred. He was already looking at her, and he was crossing the street coming towards her.

“What are you doing at this hour on the street?” Her mind was still processing the fact that they had found each other outside of her work. It wasn’t impossible, he lived in the area, but still, her luck! She looked back at the group of guys that she hadn’t noticed were looking at her, and she thanked to herself, the presence of Fred.

He had approached because of that. Because he was looking for his meal, and then her smell hit all his senses again and he lost focus. Until he saw the group he had been eyeig pass her and then how they had stopped to look at her. He wasn’t planning on intervening, specially when his fangs where out, full of venom, and ready to bite into a fleshy, smooth skin full of blood.

“Oh hi.” She started, a little less nervous now in his presence, but still not fully. They were only two and the group that had passed them were five. They were in disadvantage. “I just left the bakery, I was asked to close. Was heading home now.” She gave him the uneasy smile, her hands coming to the pockets of her jacket to warm her cold hands.

“I think I should accompany you home.” He said, after he looked again behind her to see the guys lurking around talking, maybe waiting for her to be left alone so they could do something. “Where to you live exactly?”

“I live just too more blocks way.” She said. And when he put his hand, gently, on her back guiding her to start walking, she did so, without hesitation. She also didn’t fight him on, how she was strong and independent enough to go on her own, because she knew that deep down she was scared to walk the rest of her time alone. “Thank you.” She said, when silence fell upon them, his hand had left her back and they had a little distance between them.

“No need to thank me.” He was mostly silence because, well, the proximity they had made it even harder for him to control himself specially when he was mid hunt. Right now there wasn’t a thing separating them. And they had walked a long distance that they were finally alone, in the dark street, and in the cold almost no one dared to come outside.

The mint in the scent was stronger today, and when he, from the corner of his eye, or when he actually decided to look at her for brief moments, could see the thick veins in her neck, the blood pumping thru them, calling for him. His venom leaked a little from his teeth and burned his throat. But he could still smell the sweet vanilla in there, and how that mixture, although unknown to him until now, was something he couldn’t forget.

It made his hunger even stronger.

“Do you wanna come in?” The had arrived at what he assumed was the place she lived. She lived in one of the small buildings that only had two floors and usually only two to three people lived in those. “It’s the least I could do, since you brought me home. I can offer you hot tea, or even hot chocolate?” She suggested, the door already opened. He nodded, his eyes trailing over how old the building was and how cold it also was.

He was a vampire, he was always cold and nothing ever bothered him. A lot of his manners were eyes of him disguising himself to humans, so they wouldn’t suspect he wasn’t like them. He couldn’t care less if the temperatures his below freezing. But for humans? Humans were fragile. He doesn’t remember much from his human time, has it happens to any old enough vampire. With time those images are just memories and sometimes something he thinks he invents some of them. But he knows there fragile, that they get too cold, and too hot. That they need different attention that he does. So this house he for sure knew was very cold, the walls were old, almost nothing separated them from the outside.

But when he got into her apartment, he realizes she tried her best to make it warm and cozy.

She gestured to her sofa. “You can seat.”

“I’ll take the warm tea, please.” He realized he hadn’t answered her question from moments ago. She nodded and after taking her jacket and taking her shoes of, she want to the kitchen.

Also mentally preparing herself because, the cute guy she had seen only two times until now was in her house. And how hot and bothered (in a good way) she was about it. When the tea was ready she brought it to him and put in the small coffee table she had in front of her sofa.

“Thank you again. I-“ she stopped for a moment trying to gather her thoughts. “Those guys gave me an off vibe.” He nodded.

“Yeah, I realized that.” He hid the fact that they were his dinner, and that her appearance had disturbed not only him, but also them on their conquest. She yawned, sitting next to him but still leaving a safe space between them.

Good, she’s smart enough to know, not to get too close. Fred thought, his had«nds picking up the tea cup and drinking some of it. He watched her close her eyes, her once rapid breathing was starting to get calm, she had somehow between arriving and making his tea, turned her small eater on and she was warm, but she still had her work clothes on.

“You are tired, you shouldn’t have invited me in. Go to sleep.” He was getting up, but she stopped him in his movements, her hand coming to grab his pants and pulling him down.

“I’m sorry.” She mumble sleepy. “Stay a little bit more. I can stay wake.” He wanted to laugh, how her voice wanted to show this big girl who was able to stay wake way past her bedtime, and how she was a rule breaker, it was cute actually.

“Sure you can.” He said, trying to hide his mocking tone, and she tried to give him a look but her eyes were threatening to close. And then… then they did.

y/n was so tired, from waking up at five am and then having to close the bakery that she couldn’t take it. Her body gave in. her head was resting back on her sofa, her hands on her lap and her breathing was once again calm, letting Fred know she was asleep. And then is thoughts evaded his mind. How her neck look so delicious. How her smell was even stronger now, because, it wasn’t just her now, it was her whole house. Everything around him smelt like her, and of her, and he had to get up quickly.

His mind fighting, if he should put her in her bed, or if he should just bite down right into her. Drain her of all her blood because, in all honesty her scent was to powerful for him and he didn’t think that if he started he would be able to stop.

But the better part of him was winning, and instead of biting down onto her, her looked around her apartment for something he could cover in. moving himself swiftly around until he found something. And then after that he didn’t gave anything else a thought and left, before he regrated anything something else that could happen.

--

It had been more than a week since y/n invented Fred to her home and ended up falling asleep not even ten minutes later. When she woke up the next morning she was alone and Fred’s half drank tea was on the table, she was still fully dressed, but warm and cozy non the less.

y/n thought that day would make things awkward for them. She couldn’t help but overthink, on how she invited a complete stranger into her house. But at the same time the feeling of comfort and protection she had gotten from him being by her side. But no, that day he came in and acted like he had the last two times, and y/n imagines all the times before that.

And that first full week of work for y/n was amazing. She loved the place she was working at, loved that fact that everyone was always so nice and she and Philip were so close. Since they were the ones who spent so much time alone in the front they grew closer very quickly.

But y/n couldn’t wait for her break. She was free from work tomorrow, Sunday,  and after the exhausting week she had, she really needed sometime for herself.

“Know what you doing on your day off?” Philip said, throwing the wet cloth he had on his hand on top of the counter.

y/n gave it a thought for a minute, a small smirk appearing on her face after a while. “I will sleep, and rest, that’s all.”

“Boring.” He said, prolonging the ‘o’ on the word, and then started to rearrange some stuff on the shelves. “Mr. Hot could ask you out on a date no? After all wasn’t he the one who took you home?”

“Philip stop. He took me home once, and I fell asleep after ten minutes. It was the shortest interaction we had.”

Philip was gonna talk again when the little doorbell rang and when they both looked, Fred was coming in. Trying to hide the smirk that was threatening to appear on face because… well, Fred pretty much heard what Philip had said, and wished that y/n went on, so he could know what she thought about him. His super earing came in handy in times like this.

Maybe, just maybe he should invite her out. After he left her house that day he couldn’t find it in himself to stop thinking about her. Not only was her blood engraved on every one of his heighten senses, but also her touch, her face, her smooth skin. Everything. After two days, his hand was asking for a time out. It looked like anyone else he had fed upon was not even close to what she smelled like, and what she could possibly feel like.

Fred hated what he was feeling. Every time he fed it was a one-time thing. He never, ever caught feeling for anyone who he had fed upon. Sometimes if he was busy or wasn’t feeling like having sex he would find some criminal and feed of that person. But the majority he would usually feed of the person he was sleeping with. Now, he knows consent isn’t something you can just get when you’re him. But Fred always makes sure the person he slept with is well cared for. He never does anything to make that person unconfutable and they only sleep together if there’s consent. If at any time they want to leave, they can and Fred will find another way of feeding. He also always makes sure that they don’t have any marks after and that they don’t remember anything. One of the things that came with immortality is persuading people into forgetting things and doing what he wants. Fred only does it when he feeds of someone.

“Good morning, Mr. Weasley.” Fred had to contain himself to not moan right there, in front of everyone. The way it just left her lips, those lush beautiful lips, it just made him hard in his trousers. Philip smiled and after saying good morning, turned around leaving y/n to attend to Fred alone, for the first time since she’s here. “What will it be today?”

“How about the chocolate cake, with just a black coffee?” Fred took it upon himself to put his hands on the counter, closer to where she rested hers before going to prepare what he asked. She nodded. “So, how has it been working here?”

“It’s been nice, I like everyone here, and the people who come are also very generous and nice.” y/n said, while preparing what he asked. Fred had the question on the top of his tongue, but… wouldn’t it sound weird asking it? Just like that? Would she find it suspicious? That he was asking her out without even, technically knowing when her free day is? But before his mushy brain could gather anything else it just left his lips. “Do you go out tomorrow?”

Shit, Shit, Shit, he cursed himself all over. The look she gave him when he turned around was of shock. He had to think fast.

“You know, after work I mean.” He said quickly, before she could say anything else. “That is, if you’re free.”

y/n was speechless for what felt like forever, well for Fred after he stammered that’s what it felt like.

“Sure, I would love to. I’m also free tomorrow, so whatever works for you, is fine to me.” y/n gave a small smile, putting in between them Fred’s request, and then taking the money he had already prepared.

“How about I pick you up for lunch?” When she nodded, he felt a sense of relieve all over his body. “ Perfect then, see you at noon?” She gave the same gesture as before, her mouth looking like it had difficulty opening, to speak because she couldn’t believe what she was earing. “Then it a deal. See you tomorrow.” He winked, and this time his smile was bigger, and y/n for a second thought she had seen some sharp enough teeth that could ripple through her skin, or anyone’s for that matter.

Fred often refused to smile big because he never knew when they would be out. Sometimes when he least expected they were out because someone smelled really good, and almost all the time he couldn’t tell when they were out because they’re sharp feeling was something he was use to already. So he didn’t even notice her prolonged stare on his mouth, or even that his teeth were out. When he probably should’ve know that they were because she smelled absolutely divine and it was almost impossible for him to get any control next to her.

After he left y/n was left to her thoughts. It’s weird really, she probably should have looked at those teeth and just put in her brain that he had sharp teeth and a beautiful white and brilliant smile. But sometimes her mind got the best of her and of all the books and things she loved to read online about werewolves, vampires, and just all the other stuff that no one believe it existed, and she sometimes tried to put in her mind that they actually didn’t, but other times, she liked to think somewhere, they did, and that, she didn’t know how, brought her some comfort.

Seconds before Philip interrupted her thoughts, she made herself put in that head of hers that she was just overthinking and things like vampires wouldn’t exist.

--

y/n was finishing up the last touches of her outfit, the minutes for Fred to arrive coming closer and closer. She decided on something casual and simple since she didn’t know where they were going. She silently prayed it would be somewhere cheap because she wasn’t swimming in rich money to eat at places where plates costed more than god knows what.

So the pair of black skinny jeans, along with a her favorite t-shirt and some snickers would have to do for today. Oh and a jacket, she tended to be very picky when it came to cold.

Although the thoughts of yesterday had gone to the back of her mind they hadn’t completely disappeared, and she didn’t even know why she was thinking about this so much and why Fred. Although other small things Philip had told her until know just made a lot more sense if she looked at him as a vampire and not as normal human. But she didn’t had time to let those thought fulfill her mind again because Fred was here. She knew because the door bell rang and she hated to leave people waiting so she picked up her stuff faster and run to the door.

“Hi.” y/n said, a cute smile on her face, she was messily putting her bag over her shoulders.

“Hi, you look cute.” Really Fred? Cute? Of all the things you could’ve said?

“You look very handsome yourself”. She laughed a little, and thanked all the universe that he had also chose a more casual look that looked way to good on him, and did things to her that she shouldn’t be having for someone she knows for such a little time. But the way the shirt hugged his body, those hands that just looked so muscly and how his jeans hugged his legs and how all of sudden his things looked way to appetizing. Well, y/n was in for a hard time.

And Fred… he also in for a harder time. Because he knew immediately in that small amount of time what he was doing to her because he could smell her. And he was not talking about only her blood. He was talking about the pool of wetness that was forming in her panties, right in front of him. The venom was there again, threatening to leave his fangs, his control almost leaving him.

He had to block all those thoughts before he regretted what he might do. Why, why did she have to smell that good? Why now? After all the time he’s had on this earth, why now? When he’d learned to contain himself.

“Ready?” y/n’s voice took him out of his moment, he streacthed his hand out for her to take and when she did he nodded.

“yes, hope you don’t mind, but I chose the place where we’re going.”

“Not at all, may I know where?”

“It’s a surprise.” He winked, after she closed the door they both went to his car. y/n knew that it wasn’t in town, because otherwise they wouldn’t be taking his, may she had, very extremely expensive car. Entering it even felt like the biggest sin ever, she felt way to weird riding something like this.

Although this clearly wasn’t the biggest sin she had committed and she for sure had ridden way dirtier stuff. She wanted to laugh because of what her brain was picking up. Fred noticed.

“Everything alright?” That’s when she finally looked at him, and the way he had one hand on the stirring wheel and his hand on the gearshift, and how his muscles flexed every now and then because of he changed. She clenched her thighs.  Her smell only intensifying even more.

“Yes- yes everything ok.” She made herself look way, trying to avoid and think to much on the stickiness that was in between her. “Can I know where we’re going now? I mean I know it outside of town.”

“Smart little thing you are, no?” He joked, looking at her for a brief second but the way he retained information was enough for him to know that way the sun hit her face in just the perfect way making her eyes stand out, and her skin be has shinny as his would if he wasn’t wearing things that made him not shine in the sun.

She shivered, only that small name made her tingle all over. If this man wanted to forget lunch and just do it, she, well she wouldn’t mid would she? He was just that good.

“We’re going to the mountains, it’s close but far enough that no one had to know our business.”

She looked out the window, seeing that was the path they were taking. This only confirmed what Philip had said about Fred being a very private person. How he didn’t want people in town to know they were going out. It didn’t hurt her. Actually she was relieved, y/n loved the place she lived in but people talked and sometimes they tried to guess things way out of their league and ended up making rumors that were far from the truth. So, them going to the mountains, was good for her.

She had heard of the restaurant up there, she knew it was expensive but she could take in that type of expensive.

They actualy talked for the rest of the way, both finding it very easy to speak with each other, like they were friends their whole lives. It was easy to look at Fred and want to talk to him, know more about him, it was like he was enchanted and was this person, a brilliant one at that, that just made everyone fall in love.

And Fred? Fred was able to look at y/n outside of a food type of way. He didn’t always looked at her like that, he didn’t always let his animal side come out. But her blood was powerful and sometimes it was hard. But now, in this car and with the way she talked to openly to him about her family, about her work and what she loved the most Fred found his frozen cold heart feel something else. It was like an electric shock, it looked like it was only for a brief second but he could have sworn he felt his skin heat up.

How weird was that? A cold vampire with warm skin? Jokes. Total jokes. But it felt like that. And his hands almost felt sweaty. They were things Fred had last felt a long time ago, when the blood in hum ran in his veins, when he could feel warmth and could blush. It was things he swore he could have forgotten the feeling.

He knew nothing of what he was thinking was happening, but somehow his brain was picking up on those things again.

Fred had become somehow closed when it came to love. He didn’t have a wife, nor a girlfriend in his human time, but he was in love… she was just always out of reach. And Fred had to become what he was today, with a broken heart, knowing he would never love. Because, the rumors were true, vampires were soulless. That’s what Fred had made himself believe even after some vampires he had known along the years had told him otherwise. Vampires who had find they’re soulmates.

Fred had lost his hope a long, long time ago. So this now was just probably a way of his body reacting to her blood. A way of coping that is.

When they arrived, Fred made sure to take up a faster pace than usual but trying to hide his super speed so he could take the role of gentleman and opening the door to her. Some things, even after all this time living on earth, were part of him. He tried to let some things of his time go, try not to be so modest, and in somethings he managed.

But opening doors, and making sure the person he was with was well taken care of? That was something that would always stuck with him. He knew now a days not everyone had that way of acting. They just wanted to get someone to bed.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Weasley.” y/n said in her teasing tone, squeezing the hand he had gave her. He rolled his eyes playfully trying to hide the way his cock twitched in interest in his jeans. When she went in front of him to enter the restaurant he took a few seconds to get himself together.

He asked for the table with the best view, that ended up with them in the balcony that had a beautiful view to everything below, including their town that now looked so small.

“This is beautiful.” y/n stated, putting her bag in the seat next to her and straighten her jacket, because it was breezy outside.

“It is.” Fred was looking at her, although she was still looking around. She just looked ethereal really, angel like, he was lucky she had even said yes to this lunch. It didn’t took them a long time to have what they had asked for in the table. Fred opting for something light. It was now that he was regretting having suggested this because he had to eat and would probably leave him sick. So his best plan was to distract y/n while she ate and maybe she wouldn’t notice he hadn’t touched the food.

It was going well, he made sure to ask some for stuff about some things she had mentioned while in car. About her family, about were she studied, what she liked to do in her free time. But when she finished and was ready to ask for some dessert she noticed he hand’t touched his food.

“Are you ok?” Her voice was filled with worry, she was so distracted sharing things about herself with him she barely noticed his food. And now she felt guilty all over and her eyes had a different look to them.

“More than ok, I just realizes I didn’t want this. Don’t worry I’ll eat something else.” He smiled a little and the hand she had close to him he squeezed in a gentle gesture. She felt his cold skin touch hers. If hers was cold how could his be cold her? She wondered for barely a second, but then justified it with him probably being very cold.

“You’re also very cold, are you sure you’re not getting sick?” her voice still had the same tone. “maybe we should go.” She said ready to get up and pay, so they could go.

“I’m ok y/n, please sit.” He laughed a little seeing how worried she was. His heart could’ve skipped a beat if it wasn’t frozen.

“No.” She stood her ground. “I’m gonna pay and we’re going home, you’re getting sick.” They was she was speaking in that moment was so dominant that Fred couldn’t help getting hard. He was avoiding, thru all the little twitches he gave during the time they had been together, getting hard and he had managed until now. She was worried sick about him and here he was getting hard over it, because well, he wasn’t anything close to sick. It was who he was, she just didn’t know that. But maybe, just maybe he could get on a little about this. He was actually enjoying having her worried sick.

Fred followed her, but did not allowed her to pay. He did tho allow her to drive his expensive cat, because she was focused on the road he was focused on her. He had his head resting back and turned to her, how, unlike him, she had both hands on the steering wheel and only took one when she had to change shifts. Otherwise they were both there, that showed Fred that she didn’t have as much confidence driving as he had, and she was more scared of anything happening than he was. She also had a frown on her face, her features still showed worry.

he looked at her thighs, the way they looked so appetizing in those jeans and how all of sudden thoughts of his fangs biting thru them made him readjust in his seat trying to find a positing where his hard cock wasn’t visible. He had to fight the want in putting his hand on her leg and squeeze it.

y/n realized half way there if she was even ok with her going to his house. But when they got to town and he said to go to his she got the conformation that maybe it wasn’t bad after all. Maybe it was ok. And well her frown had disappeared for a while when she had to take in how everything around her looked. It was so modern and slick, it was amazing.

Fred, on the other hand, was actually getting a little sick, because hiding his hard on was becoming even more difficult. He was starting to feel his body ache, and shivers prickle in his skin. He now looked actually sick. When she took a notice of that, she hurried to his side.

“Oh poor boy, here.” She said, letting him support himself on her, which wasn’t what he needed. He needed her touch yes, but in other way. He was a moaning mess by the time they arrived at the elevator to then get to his house. He didn’t’ even know what had gotten into him.

Never, had he felt like this. He was ok always when he was horny, he was never like this. This achy feeling, his cock somehow already leaking. How had she not noticed it? Fred couldn’t bring himself to have coherent thoughts in his head. All he could think and smell was her. And she was everywhere now. She was right there next to him feeling all of his senses, his house would smell like her. The thoughts he had about her in the last week would be even more vivid not that she was there.

He was a whiny mess. When she managed to open the door to his house she didn’t have time to take in everything around her. The closest she managed to bring him was his sofa, that she for moments realizes was a dark blue color, almost royal.

“Fred.” She called gently, now that he was laying down on his sofa he had let his eyes close, he was trying very hard to get is head straight. To think rationally and not do anything that might ruin him. Or her for that matter. “Fred, come on let me help you.” The gentleness in her voice, his hands in fists to make him stay in that position and not abuse anything. He opened his eyes a little, a small smile on his face, she had a pillow in her hand and he got his head up a little so she could put it underneath is head. “I’m gonna go find something you can take.”

Fred couldn’t speak, so he couldn’t tell her she would find zero things around his house for him to take. He was a vampire and he they never got sick or needed any of those human medicines. But now, in the state he was in he was reconsidering everything in his life and trying to pull up any thought of anything he might’ve read that would explain this.

Well, he… he did remember once his creator had explained to him what this might be. It was a weird thing that rarely happened to vampires. If the need for blood was to much, they could get to a point where they were a complete mess. Fred knew she had created this. Her blood was to much for him and he should’ve known, he should’ve pushed her way from him. He should’ve stopped when he could’ve, but he didn’t. And now here he was, hard like a rock, his cock leaking in to his boxers and probably his trousers too, he couldn’t tell. All because her blood her smell her touch had brought him to a breaking point.

“Fred I didn’t found-“ She stopped mid sentence, because from the place she was coming she could see it clearly. The dent in his trousers. She had taken a lot more time because she didn’t knew his house and he could barely speak to explain everything to her so she had to manage on herself. She looked in the bathroom she had found, but nothing came up. He moaned a little louder now, turning on his side and them on his belly, his cock rubbing against the material oh his jeans and helping him getting some relief. The movement of his hips got a little faster, y/n was at lost for words.

She had so many ways she could react to this. She could leave and let him take care of it alone. She could stay and try to figure out what he had and she could also stay and help. Somehow her brain was yelling that the last option was the best.

“Shit, y/n.” If she had any doubts, the moan of her name made the decision firm in that option. She walked slow like any sudden movement was gonna scare both of them. She kneeled next to the sofa, she brought on of her hands to his face and moved it so he could look at her. “Fuck.” He shook, his whole body starting to get rigid because he was so, so hard and achy that any movement brought him close the edge, and then her touch just made him a whole lot more close.

“You have to tell me Fred, what is wrong?” She knew he was hard she had seen it and now knew he was trying to find some kind of relief, but she was lost, she had mistaken the signs for him being sick, and he was… just horny? Very much at that.

“Fuck, please.” His voice was low, almost sub like, his eyes closing his movements becoming faster, he was gonna bring one of his hands to cup himself truh his jeans. She stopped him before he could do that.

“Please what, baby?” Her hand caressed his fingers slowly, every fiber in her body now almost matching his, like they were synchronized, made for each other. Her body starting to match his, in pleasure and adrenaline.

“Please, I need you, so bad, please.” His voice was raspy Fred had lost himself completely, to the point where his fangs were out, right there in front of her, and his brain couldn’t pick up on it. But y/n, she still had some coherent thoughts and she picked up on it. But she wasn’t scared. Her body telling her to trust him.

One of her hands came to stay on his face and the other that had his hand in his let go of it and grabbed his cock thru the jeans and she squeezed it hard, a loud moan leaving his mouth.

“Does it feel good baby?” Her voice was so gentle, and Fred was so lost in himself that anything she said or do, only brought him closer to the edge. He nodded. “Words, please.” She asked nicely, since she could very much see how lost in pleasure he was wasn’t doing it on purpose.

“It does, please, I beg you.” His voice was breaking into moans and whines and his hips came to meet her hand, trying to find his release. She smiled, taking the hand that was on his face of, and coming to help her other hand open the zip of his pants. And she didn’t waste to much time teasing him because she knew he needed this. She pulled his pants down along with his boxers, letting his cock spring free. He was red, and hard and he was veiny to. y/n felt her mouth water, he was beautiful. Now being on his side his cock rested in one of his flexed legs, even the slightest touched making him feel overwhelmed.

y/n didn’t waste any time taking him in her hands, stroking him first in a slow and gentle manner to get a feeling and grip of his cock. He almost shouted at how it felt.

“F-fuck.” He opened his eyes to look at his cock, her warm and soft hand gripping him so good he felt his stomach tighten and his orgasm so, but so close. “Thank you.” His voice was low, and raspy because he was feeling he was loosing it. y/n increased the speed of her movements, her hands massaging his cock all over, from the base where she squeezed a little more and then back to the top, keeping the pressure almost the same until she hit the head of his cock, where she would engulf it a little more, seeing his legs tremor and his mouth open in pure bliss.

“So close aren’t you lovie?” She had such an adorable look and at the same time so dominant and Fred was feeling so many things that this moment would forever be engraved on his mind. “You weren’t sick after all were you?” He shook his head the best he could, she had her hand at the head of cock pressing her thumb on the little whole where his cum was gonna come out of way to soon. “You just needed a little attention, baby boy just wanted someone to touch him.”

“You.” It barebly came out of him, y/n look at him, they locked eyes and they way she lowered her head to meet the head of his cock all while mantaning eye contact, he lost it there. As soon as her lips envolved his head and the rest of her hand massaged the base of his cock he was a gonner. He came so hard his vision went white, his whole body got rigid, but somehow his toes kept moving almost like little spasms. “Only you.” He managed to get out, mid orgasm, one of his hands somehow finding her face to caress it.

y/n swallowed every single drop he gave her, she milked him dry, sucked him all thru his orgasm. All while taking in the sight he was, how he looked so but so beautiful that her pussy tingled with just the look of it. How she could cum from just looking at him.

When he was sensitive, she moved away, bringing one of her hands to her face to clean the bit of cum that was threatening dropping to her chin. She collected it in her finger and brought it close to his face. “taste it for me baby, you taste so good don’t you?”

He opened his mouth the best he could, a vampire had so much strength and barely needed any sleepy, barely anything could tire him. But here he was, lost of words, tired but in a pure state of bliss. He involved her finger in his mouth and sucked on it, tasting himself. y/n felt the velvety skin of his mouth and how those sharp teeth she had thought about since yesterday, were scratching at her finger, but never once hurt her.

Fred was astonished with himself how he could have done that and not bite into her. Although tired that desire was still there, so present in his mind. She pulled her finger out and rested her hand on his tummy and gently petted him.

“Did so good for me too didn’t you?” She came closer to his face and finally what she was also thinking during this, came to happen. She kissed him. It was a deep kiss where she felt sparkles happen all over her. Her hand fisting around his shirt and she moaned into his mouth. Fred had been so lost into his pleasure, the post orgasmic bliss that he had forgotten that she was had been wet for had long had he was hard and had his cock twitching. She, in that state that made humans even more vulnerable, had taken care of him.

Shit, she really was something else. He went to get up, still kissing her but she stopped.

“No, you don’t have to.” She said, looking at thse beautiful eyes, where she could get lost so many times.

“I don’t, but please, I want to.” She was still on her knees on the ground next to the sofa so when Fred sat down on it he was taller than her and all of a sudden, y/n who had been dominant moments ago, felt all that power get taken from her just by the way he looked.

“You also did so good to me baby didn’t you? Sucked my cock like the good girl you are, went around the house looking for medicine to make me feel better… but the only thing I need is you.” His hand came to pet her face, his thumb on one side and the rest of his fingers in the other and he squished her face a little. His fangs came out of his mouth for the first time, the pointy tip meeting his bottom lip. The realization hit him but somehow instead of panicking, he gave a devious smirk, because he could hear her heart beat speeding up, the blood in her veins running faster, going to meet the little bundle of nerves between her legs that was aching to be touched.

y/n wasn’t scared, she realized finally that Fred wasn’t like her, but in this moment, right between his legs, his cock that had soften starting to get hard again, she couldn’t care less. She needed him so bad. Her cunt so wet that she knew when she took her panties that her wetness would drip down her legs.

She nodded. “Words y/n.” he was more dominant in the way he was speaking than she was. She was soft, and he although still soft and caring had a different way of speaking. She felt her spine tingle and came to rest her head on his thick thigh her look lingering a little bit to long on his cock and then look at him in the eyes.

“Yes daddy.” Fred groaned, one of his hands coming to pull at her hair.

“Up you go then little girl, come and lay here.” He patted his other hand next to the big space next to him, given his sofa was so big, and y/n was about to find out cozy too. She did as she was told. “But take your jeans and panties first beauty.” She nodded, her trembeling hands coming to do just that.

“The shirt and bra too, daddy?” She asked a little low, she was feeling so many things too, she couldn’t wait for what Fred was thinking of doing. He nodded. She was fully naked in front of him. The first thing he looked at was her wetness, he could see it dripping down, but before he even looked, as soon as she took her panties the smell hit him like a thousand things. If it was strong before, it was now consuming everything in him.

She laid down and Fred turned to his side, kneel and opened her legs moving himself in between them. He looked directly at her pussy for a few moment and then at her perky rigid nipples.

“You just wanna be touched don’t you baby? Just as desperate as daddy was for your touch.” Fred referring to himself as daddy had her clenching her pussy around nothing, Fred noticed and one of the hands that was on her thights keeping her legs opened came to graze at her pussy. He touched from her clit to her entrance where he rolled his index finger around, spreading her wetness all around. He then brought that finger to his mouth and sucked on it, the sight making y/n moan.

“Please, daddy I was good. Please touch me.” The desperation in her voice made Fred feel pitty for her. He nodded and came to lean down on it. y/n was about to get her pussy eaten by what she possibly thought was a vampire, and she should be scared and run, or stop this and ask so many questions, but she felt this immense trust for Fred and that he would always stop if she asked, if she needed and he would never do anything she didn’t feel comfortable with. His face was so close to her pussy and he didn’t waste any more time and sucked at her clit. His fangs giving a different kind of touch that her screaming in pleasure her legs threatening to close around him, but one of his hands kept one of the legs where it was before, the other came around his shoulders.

She was so wet, she didn’t think she had ever been this wet with a man. She usually found herself never releasing when she was with a man. They had all but forgotten and negletected her during. She usually only got to come when she was by herself or when she was lucky to have a beautiful girl laying with her. So being with a man and being so wet without any foreplay was astonishing to her. Fred was alternating his mouth movements between gentle and more harsh suckles on her clit and small little pecks and kissed that had her clit tingle in pleasure. y/n was a complete and whining mess, both her hands coming to meet his hair and pulling at it hard. Fred moaned into her and that only made her belly tighten in pleasure.

The two fingers that where now inside of her where moving fast, the only sound in that room besides y/n’s loud whines moans and whimpers where the wet splashing sound that were coming from the wetness of her pussy, that was now a mixture of her juices and Fred’s spit. He pushed his face away and looked at her his mouth was as messy as her pussy. His face and chin covered in her wetness and her spit. The coldness of his touch in her contrasted so well with how warm and velvety and squishy she felt and it was all too much. Her orgasm was so close and the pressure felt so… so different, it was like it was pulling al her muscles and wanted to just explode all over.

“Come on baby, I can feel you squeeze my finger good, gonna cum for me aren’t you? Gonna cum for your daddy.” His voice was like a melody to her ears. “Fucking soake me baby. Give me all this sweet honey I know you have.” His fingers curled right on her spongy spot, she screamed his name and her body tensed. He lowered so his face was close to her pussy again and went on to suckle at her clit again, and the way her pussy was being touched by Fred, how he knew what to do and where to touch her, in just the right placeshad her orgasm splitting her open inside.

Her hands threaded his hair in between her fingers and pulled at it hard, and that only had Fred moan into her, making her orgasm all more intense. Her vision was so blurry and her hearing had a piercing noise that she only heard sometimes and never during this time.

She was so lost in herself that she wasn’t seeing what Fred was seeing, her juices hitting his face, wetting him all over, his fingers coming out of her to rub at her clit feverishly only intensifying it more and he pushed back so he could take in all of her, the way she had now her eyes close and moans of his name were coming out, come low others a little higher and how her juices started to decrease and she started to shake and tremble and her hips trying to get way from his touch letting Fred know she was very sensitive. So he stopped, he put both his hands at her thighs so they had to stay open, and she couldn’t close them like she was trying to do.  He felt her shaking beneath his touch.

“Fuck- I- daddy.” She couldn’t master up any thoughts and her hands that weren’t on his head no more, were squeezing her breasts, finding some conform in that gesture. Her nipples still hard and unplayed with, but Fred knew what he was doing.

“Are you too sensitive baby? Or can you take my cock?” He asked gently, caressing her things very smoothly too and letting small kisses along her bare legs.

“I can take your cock daddy, I’m a big girl.” She opened her eyes finally, and  that’s when she finally looked down to see the mess. The shirt he still wore now see thru because her orgasm had made it that way. All wet. Her thighs also wet and his face just like that too, but the smile on his face didn’t let y/n be embarrassed because, well she took it that he liked it. And she had liked it very much also. Fred shuddered at her words, his cock rock hard again and coming to meet his stomach. He was so big and thick and y/n just couldn’t wait to feel all of him.

“Please.” She asked lightly, and took one of his hands in hers and pulled him to her. Fred took his other free hand to his cock and positioned it to her entrance. He looked from her they meet, from where his cock scratched at her pussy, at her cute little clit, to look at her, her mouth opened, a whine leaving it.

He sinks in slowly, not only because he cared for her, because he knew he was to much for her to handle if he just went fast and hard, but because Fred cared and although he always cared for the people he slept with, he cared differently for y/n. The girl he knew for so little while but that was making his heart feel some kind of way. A deep groan leaves his throat, his cock coming to sit snuggly against her smooth walls, his balls fitting snug against her ass. The hand that had been on his cock came to rest next to y/n’s head to give himself some leverage and the other hand now free came to play with  one of her nipples, pushing it and rolling it in between his thumb and pointer finger. She clenched deliciously around him.

He back up his hips after he feels she’s a little use to his size and then comes to meet her hips again, the slow yet hard movement made both of them moan. He was so big, now inside her felt even bigger than when she touched him with her hand. She could feel the vein that ran up along his cock caress her walls and along with that the pure look of pleasure he had in his face was making y/n a moaning mess again.

Fred kisses y/n, her tongue rasping around his sharp teeth and the feeling had her whimper into his mouth. He pulls out a little faster this time and came snapping against her again, the force of this had his pelvis coming to meet her clit, the extra pressure and sensation had her legs quiver hard.

Fred was fucking her now hard and deep, his other hand on her nipple came to the other side of her face so he could gain more force and speed and his head lowered down do his mouth met one of her nipples, the one who still hand’t gotten much attention and proceeded to get it all wet and messy with his spit, sucking on it while also moaning against it, because y/n was squeezing him hard, and spasming around him. He knew her orgasm earlier had been strong, squirting always made people extra sensitive after, and he knew she was more than usual, and that also having her nipples played with was even mesmerizing.

All the little nerves in her body are on high alert, feeling and letting her know another orgasm approaches, how her hands come to find Fred’s face and pull him in for a deep kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance, his hands becoming fists around the cushions on his sofa. His legs also threatening to give out, because he also had a strong orgasm earlier and he was closer than he would like to admit.

She has to pull herself way from him because her orgasm hit her like a truck, she was expecting to last a small while longer, but all of sudden everything came crashing down on her. The orgasm again strong, she shakes and quivers all over, her hands squishing Fred’s face strongly and her mouth wide open, whimpers start to leave her mouth again

His movements never stop, now that had come, Fred could chase his own orgasm better. He continues, he fucks y/n thru her orgasm, one of his hands comes to her throat and squeezes it. y/n smiles the best she can and turns her head to the side exposing her neck to him. The orgasm still pumping thru her veins, and the vein in her neck prominent, he could see the blood passing in them.

“Bite me.” She said low, if Fred didn’t have that hearing he could’ve sworn it would have pass him. His body almost gave out on him. He felt himself ask low ‘What’.

“Bite me.” She repeated again, with one hand taking the one that was still around her throat but kept her position. “Please.”

“y/n..” Fred started but she didn’t let him finish.

“I’m giving you consent, bite me.” Her pussy squeezing his cock and the request had Fred at the brim of his orgasm and then when he lowered his head again, his lips brushing against her neck and his fangs that had been out all this time and full of his venom came to bite down on her skin. The sweet honeyed flavor of her blood was something that made Fred feel his body relax and just… well Fred didn’t even know how to describe what he was feeling.

y/n screamed, it felt like a sharp, sharp pain in her skin, but then after a few moments if didn’t hurt anymore, it did sting a little, from what she thought was his venom entering her system.

That’s how Fred came, with her pussy spasming around him, sensitive from the two strong orgasms he gave her, him, also sensitive because this would be his second orgasm and from her taste on his tongue, on his mouth and her smell everywhere. He moaned close to her, and right after he hit the top he pulled way from her, licking at the two small marks his teeth had left and it healed.

y/n was now a little lost, he made sure to only drink enough to sustain him, but he had still drunk her blood so she was a little limp.

“Thank you.” Fred said gently, caressing her face and kissing her lips gently.

y/n was trying hard to find words, feeling a little loopy, but still there none the less.

“You’re welcome.” She yawned. “But you have a lot of explain to do.” The both laughed, Fred scooted y/n over a little so they could both fit on the sofa and pulled a blanket that was usually there to just be, but now it would cover and warm y/n.

“I will, I promise. Thank you for trusting me.” That was the last thing y/n remember Fred say before she fell into a deep sleep, snuggled into Fred’s chest.

[fluffi]

AN INTERVIEW WITH EXES :: HEESEUNG

heeseung x gn!reader. angst, exes-to-friends!au. 1021 words. toxic relationship warning. credit to @by-moonflower​.

the first installment of this untimed and unplanned series. be sure to check out @/by-moonflower’s skz and svt versions!

[how did you meet?]

heeseung: well, it was fate, i guess.

you: not really, now that this fever dream is over.

heeseung: if you could just put your petty feelings aside for a moment then we could do this freaking interview.

you: i didnt know i was going to have to do this with you. i wouldnt have shown up if i knew it was going to be between us.

heeseung:

[cut]

you: you were running out of your training building...

heeseung: and you were walking with your iced coffee. you know what happens next.

you: you didnt look at where you were going and bumped into me and my untouched ice coffee! i hadnt even taken a sip.

heeseung: it spilled all over my shirt. i was about to apologize but you and your courteous self decided to help me clean up and one impromptu date led to another one. before i knew it, you would wait for me outside the building every friday evening to hang out.

you: i wasted time out of my only free day to go shopping for new clothes with you, and then i wasted that same free day every evening to spend time with you, only for it to result in...nothing.

heeseung: you didnt waste your time back then.

you: maybe i didn’t last time, but now i have. i wasted months of time and money that i put into this failed relationship.

heeseung: im sorry

you: why are you only saying it now?

[why did you break up?]

you: i dont want to talk about it.

heeseung: i..was stupid back then.

you: i think its good that youre admitting that now. a few years later.

heeseung:

[cut]

heeseung: i was having a long day. i returned home to see you there, and i was happy, but-

you: theres always a but.

heeseung:

heeseung: i got scolded horribly that day, nothing was just going the way i wanted it to. and then i came back to see you so cheerful. you were excited and kept on clinging onto me. i dont know...i- i lashed out.

you: lashed out is an understatement. maybe i shouldnt have been excited to see you return that day. if i were sad, would we still be together right now?

heeseung: no. i hate to say it...we were, perhaps, never fated to work out.

you:

you: i need a moment.

[cut]

you: he lashed out at me and told me that i was annoying, unbearable, and so clingy. he described me as a leech. then, he-

heeseung: dont say it. please, dont.

you: ...he told me that we should’ve never been together. apparently i was the only thing keeping him from success back then.

you: i hope you’ve succeeded now. i hope youre happy without me. thats what you were looking for. happiness. i couldnt provide that for you.

heeseung: i dont know what was wrong with me. i ended up calling you, texting you, knocked on your door every night, expecting a response, even though i knew that i wasnt deserving of one.

you: ...and you didnt get it. i moved out on my own, made new friends. i lived my life the way i truly wanted to live it. i wasnt just your “leech” anymore, i was my own new person.

heeseung: im happy that youre free now. i truly am. i was toxic back then, wasnt i?

you: i didnt see it back then, but as time went on, i figured that we were both toxic, each in our own different way.

heeseung: i thought it was just me? i seriously dont think you did anything wrong.

you: maybe you were blinded by your major mistake that led to our downfall. perhaps, i really was too clingy.

heeseung:

heeseung: oh.

[when were you happiest together?]

heeseung: this is easy. the start of the relationship. puppy love does weird things to your heart.

you: honestly, i think everything flowed better when we werent seeing each other as much. i couldnt cling onto you, and you couldnt yell at me for clinging onto you.

heeseung: thats also true. everytime we stayed together for more than twenty-four hours, we ended up fighting. then it led to ignoring each other, then you wailing at three in the morning, then me consoling you and apologizing, and repeat.

you: you really didnt have to expose me like that.

heeseung: your wailing was kind of cute, not going to lie.

you:

[cut]

you: we really did better when we were busy doing our own things.

heeseung: the weekly meetups were enough for us. perhaps...more than enough. it felt like our dates were my hiatus from the real world.

you: yeah, to sum it up, our relationship was a fever dream, an escape from our real lives.

heeseung:

heeseung: yeah, you were my source of joy, until i felt like you overstepped your boundaries.

you: and you were my source of freedom, until you blocked me out from your life.

you:

you: are we finally agreeing on something?

[what was unique about your relationship?]

heeseung: so many things!

you: mmhm. our route of communication was nothing like what our friends had.

heeseung: everyone around us were always texting their significant others, telling them that they missed them, kisses through facetime, cheesy things that we never felt comfortable doing.

you: we were different. the only times we’d meet seemed to either be utopia or dystopia. there was no in between.

heeseung: i think we just didn’t match. maybe we weren’t like our friends because...we couldn’t be, maybe we didnt see each other in the same tunnel of affection.

[would you try again?]

you: from what we’ve said earlier...

heeseung: no.

you: oh, good! i thought you were going to say something else.

heeseung: i think it is obvious that we were never meant to be together. even our first encounter was a disaster.

you: wow, you really have to put it that way, dont you?

heeseung: i was just stating the truth! besides, we could always try again...platonically?

you:

you: i’d like that. i really would.

2021 © fluffi

[salemruinseverything]

[don't worry, the mile long description is staying, that's my only accomplishment on this site aside from april 13, 2007, brobecks bmonday, and ferb time]

[i'm also liveblogging homestuck intermittently, go here [browser only] for a nice little organized archive. unlike everything else on tumblr it works better on mobile browser, my desktop theme doesn't like long posts]

hi, welcome to salemruinseverything dot tumble, your source for quality reblogs, horrible [affectionate] original posts, and frequent tøp-posting of varying quality [read: reblogging half of what's in the tag every time lore happens]. my name's salem. [mainly.] i use they/them, xe/xem, joy/joyr, ae/aer, it/its, and 🍭/🍭s pronouns [also mainly, you can check my pronouny for more of both of those.] [also, i do sometimes use he/him or she/her for myself, but id prefer if other people didn't.] this is mostly a bandom/shitposting blog, but i have been known to post about politics, animatronics, minecraft youtubers, the nintendo 3ds, and doll collecting very frequently. i once got someone to ask dallon weekes if he knew what furries were, and that is both my biggest accomplishment and the worst thing i've ever done. my only personality traits are being personally victimized by pete wentz, having a crush on gerard way, surviving solely on monster energy and spite, and being a kinnie which i refuse to be ashamed about anymore. i have a lot of ocs. feel free to read on if you want to know anything else but that's really all the info you need.

dni if: you're a queerphobe, an ace/aro exclusionist, anti-xenogenders/neopronouns, a terf/swerf, a pedo/map/nomap/anti-anti/whatever you guys are calling yourselves now, people who genuinely give any shred of a fuck about proship/antiship discourse, anti-kin of any sort, you actively support brendon urie or ronnie radke, preps/posers /mj [this list will also get amended at some point it's like 2 am as i write this] [also fair warning that this isn't an exhaustive list and i hardblock without hesitation if your vibes are off. no hard feelings unless you're a bigot]

hey if we're mutuals/i follow you please tag these w/ "salem dont look" [you absolutely don't have to but id appreciate it]: any photos of actual needles [talk of needles/cartoon needles are fine], minimalist aesthetics [especially in black and white], death from overdoses [other varieties of death are fine im emo & desensitized [mostly]], the names morgan & chey, any photos of posessed ybc!patrick, & agere stuff [i have nothing against y'all and you're very welcome here, but it's a big squick for me lmao]

a short list of things i post about [formerly a list of things i actively post about, but half of these fandoms are dead now and i'm too lazy to take them out]

my chemical romance

various decaydance bands

hating brendon urie

twenty øne piløts[? in my 2024? it's more likely than you think.]

i DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

the aforementioned bamd secretly being catboys

waterparks [the band]

sanders sides

various mcyts/associated streamers

homestuck[? in my 2024? it's m-]

tally hall. how did i forget tally hall.

brian david gilbert [& associated acts]

particularly polygon but i can no longer count that as an associated act

the heart rate of a mouse [i apologize in advance]

will wood, with or without the tapeworms

lalaloopsy [where is lalaloopsy tumblr. please]

american girl

some other general doll collecting stuff as well, but i do mainly collect the two mentioned above [mostly lalaloopsies. lalaloopsy fans please interact]

showbiz pizza/the rockafire explosion[/chuck e cheese occasionally]

disney parks [i hate the corporation but i am a sucker for a good dark ride]

scott pilgrim vs. the world [ramona flowers is my precious little meow meow. she's me fr. if she gets hurt i am killing everyone in this room and then myself]

i haven't seen a single episode of supernatural since i was 9 and have never played tf2 but castiel and scout are my special little guys so i post about them sometimes

this list will probably be changed at some point by the way this is just off the top of my head

tags i use:

#salem's random thoughts: any original textposts i make

#salem's shitposting at midnight again: my old textpost tag, is now mainly used for memes if at all

#top 10 gerard way gf moments: you know how i said one of my only personality traits was having a crush on gerard way? yeah

#salem please stop talking about your kandi: a catchall tag for any posts i make talking about/with pictures of my kandi

#awsten knight troll propaganda: hey did you know that awsten knight is a valid troll name? and that him typing in all caps all the time could technically be counted as a typing quirk? yeah [the tag that inevitably led to parxstuck]

#tally hall out boy cinematic universe: a mostly abandoned project wherein i tried to connect everything possible to tally hall and/or fall out boy

#salems selfies: this is just pictures of my face

#you're a hot mess and i'm falling for queue: uh. queue tag. yeah. mostly used when i hit post limit but sometimes i schedule things

#salems im okay liveblog: on the rare occasions my favorite webcomic, i'm okay (trust me), updates i am bound to liveblog the new episode so if you dont care about it then block that cause I Have Emotions About These Dumb Emo Teens

#salem answers a question: tag for asks

#my friends!!: things my friends post!

#seven of spiders: tag for my band!! it's mostly an actual band now!! we still don't have a drummer though

#salem's discography liveblogs: there were a lot of bands i was avoiding getting into just because i didn't know when or how to start with their music, so i now have a list of said bands and i've been going down the list, picking a band and listening to one of their albums until i finish their whole discography. used to be on sundays but i kind of just do them whenever i feel like it now. i also have individual tags for each band but you can find those by going through the tag. current tags to block if you don't wanna see this: #salems gorillaz liveblog, #paramore discography liveblog [my blacklist tags for this are inconsistent im sorry]

#vampireposting & #idogposting: i like vampires & idogs. self explanatory.

#salems ocs, #the murder crew, #dsmpjoys au, #parxstuck, #my chemical l'manberg au, & #the reprisians: stuff abt my ocs/aus! [please send me asks about them pls pls p] [note because i don't know where else to put it; dsmpjoys & mcl are on indefinite hiatus o7]

#every day i have strange sentences (?) put into my ask box by tumblr user full of teeth: dumb shit [affectionate] that everest sends me. still using his url from two urls ago because i'm lazy.

#liveblogging my breakdown: the posts that get a little too venty lmao, feel free to block if you don't wanna see that shit

#ftwwwposting: mcr play ftwww live challenge

this will also be updated cause i Know this isnt all the tags i use on a regular basis

other things i think are important to note:

all my posts are ok to rb unless they're specifically tagged w don't rb [although i guess this isn't much of an issue now that i can turn off reblogs but. still]

i don't actually ship any real people [at least not anymore- i sincerely apologise if you scroll down far enough to find unironic rpf-posting], but i do make a concerning amount of rpf jokes and am a throamie, and i try to tag any rpf-related content accordingly [i swear i'm posting about peterick in a platonic way i swear it on my life it's not my fault bandom has not caught onto the concept of duo names]

ask me to tag things if you need me to! it doesn't matter how "dumb" you think it is, i will try my hardest to tag it

the only thing i won't tag is blood, because i'm an mcr fan and that shit's so prevalent in this fandom that i don't even wanna try- however, i do tag gore, & i only rb cartoony/artistic gore, no realistic stuff :p

on that note let me know if i miss any tags so i can add them! [i do forget to tag things excruciatingly often, i'm sorry for that]

also on that note since people keep asking: i put tws on fall out boy/panic! at the disco because people asked me to [i don't anymore because i'm like 80% sure they both unfollowed me but. if you see older posts with those tws that's why]

ALSO on that note. i reblog so much mcyt stuff that it's basically impossible to tag it all at this point so like genuinely no offense but if you need that blacklisted please just unfollow stop harassing me to tag it

all the tw/cw tags i use are formatted "tw/cw [thing]", & mentions of that thing are tagged "tw/cw [thing] mention". i often forget which things i use cw tags for and which i use tw tags for so id recommend blocking both to protect yourself from my stupidity

please send me asks. i crave human interaction

i block people a lot, don't @ me- this is my space and i'm curating it how i want. literally, if you give me weird [in a bad way] enough vibes from a quick scroll through your blog after you follow me, i'm blocking you.

if you're not around my age [i am very young! mid teens! im not comfortable sharing specifics but if you're like. under legal tumblr age/above 18 this applies to u], please don't message me if we haven't talked before, it makes me uncomfortable [you're welcome to follow/send asks/reblog with commentary and stuff, just don't dm me please] [this also doesn't apply if we've already talked a few times outside of dms]

i threaten to kill other people and myself a lot. please know that i'm joking. murder is bad. suicide is also bad

my sideblogs: [ironically only three of these aren't related to my ocs]

@mediocreincorrectquotes: incorrect quotes of various fandoms

@sevenofspiders: blog for my band :p

@salems-edits: feel like the url sums that one up

@terribleocincorrectquotes: incorrect quotes of my ocs, horribly organized

@ooc-tiktok-comments: the uh. the url sums that one up too

@cottoncandy-system: system blog (hi we have osdd. apparently)

@bimbemo: aesthetic sideblog (HUGE flashing lights & eyestrain cw)

@its-just-ray-toro: its just ray toro. follow for ray toro on your dash

@bunnyboylyricbot: lyrics i like posted twice daily [when i remember to queue things]

@starstruck-n-m3tal: i am the #1 scholar on all things party poison

all of the sideblogs below are semi-rp, semi-aesthetic blogs for my ocs all of which are very inactive

@alluwantizbadboys - gabe kennedy

@sharpeasaknife - helena sharpe

@christmasknight - noelle knight

@thearistocrat - cain harmony

@mxs1n1st3r - celine sinister

@frmthrzr2thrzry - aaron knight

@b3aut1ful--quarant1n3 - razz roscoe

@voluntaryv1ct1m - jaxxie boyd

@began-and-ended-in-ellipses - cas roscoe

i also have a few secret sideblogs. you'll have to find them yourself

also i am now forcing you to look at these pictures of ryan ross.

[Image ID: several assorted photos of Ryan Ross. /end ID]

that's it thank you have a good day

[cloud9in]

Driving Lessons Pt 2 (Poppy x Bea)

Long awaited. I hope you all enjoy. This is the finale of the series but I think that Bea and Poppy’s high school stories should be continued.....

Read Part 1 HERE

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @baexpoppy @poppysmc @clowneryme @thedaft1 @zigxryanz @aleiramacaii

Word Count: 2.6k 

Pt 2: The Date

Friday night had arrived and Bea’s nerves were at an all time high. She practiced breathing exercises that conveniently popped up on Youtube, there was no room for thoughts other than that of a blonde cheerleader. The buzz of her phone prompted her to jump up in excitement. 

1 message from Poppy🙄

 Poppy: I’m 99% sure that you haven’t forgotten about our “date” tonight. But if you did I’m not here to remind you. I’ll be here in 5 minutes. Remember, dress casual. ❣

 A familiar grin crept its way onto Bea’s lips as she reread the message about twenty times, taking note of the heart at the end. It may seem conventional, but even that was a lot coming from Poppy. Another message popped up which induced a smirk from the brunette. 

 Poppy: No, I am not driving the Benz.

 Bea set her phone down and spun around to check herself out in the mirror. She wore black ripped jeans with a red plaid design in the holes, red converse, and an oversized grey and black long sleeve. This should definitely fit Poppy’s definition of casual, right? 

 The blonde arrived outside of Bea’s house just as she reached the front door. Poppy was the first to react, her jaw threatening to drop open as she took in Bea’s appearance, all of it. Luckily, she was the queen of poker face’s and masked her thirsty expression….Bea on the other hand, failed horribly. She stood there wide eyed, her hands hanging uselessly by her sides as she studied the blonde. Poppy wore a white and pink checkered wool skirt, a knitted pink sweater, and a white crop top. Her jewelry also dazzled brightly against her neck. The blonde watched Bea amusingly, “you can quit ogling me now...:”

 Bea darts her eyes away self consciously. “Your uh...jewelry is distracting.” Really Bea. Nice going. She winces at her excuse and Poppy arches an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the flustered mess of the brunette in the moment. 

 “Hmm..well come now. I don’t like to waste time.”

 Like a puppy being offered food, Bea follows Poppy into her silver Range Rover. She gapes at the pristine interior and the stars on the ceiling. “I thought those star things only existed in Rolls Royce’s.” Poppy smirks appreciatively, her fingers flexing on the steering wheel, “Oh they do, but I have my ways.”

 Bea tries to convince Poppy to tell her where they’re going, but she scoffs immediately, not even turning her head in the brunette’s direction. “It’s a surprise.”

 “I didn’t take you for a girl that likes surprises to be honest.”

 “Well then there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Hughes.”

Bea fought the urge to ask Poppy to elaborate, to tell her every last detail about her. What flavor of ice cream she liked, what she loved to do on a rainy day, but there’s that moment of insecurity  that pushes her away from indulging in those thoughts. She didn’t want to seem overly-interested.

 But maybe that’s what Poppy wanted.

 The sudden quietness becomes obvious and Poppy peers over at the brunette, “I could always let you test drive this one. Maybe brush up on your driving skills?” Bea side eyes Poppy suspiciously, memories of Monday night’s driving lessons infiltrating her mind. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now..”

 “Of course I’m not! You don’t think I remember what you did to my other baby?! You’re lucky you were hurt in the process, otherwise who knows what I would have done…” Poppy glances quietly over at Bea, her eyes carefully scanning the scar that sits on her forehead.

 Bea smiles sheepishly, her hand reaching up to move her locks back. “I don’t think I wanna know- wait hey! What do you mean I was lucky-”

 “Oh please, you were lucky that I took you to a hospital. You are crazy Hughes, you know that?”

 “Crazy for you? Well now that you mention it…”

 Poppy rolls her eyes but can’t stop the smile that erupts on her face. “...Just let me take a look at it later. I need to make sure it’s healing right.”

 “Whatever you say doctor!” Bea mock salutes the blonde which earns another heavy eye roll, emphasis on heavy, but she didn’t mind. The opportunity to be less than an inch away from Poppy’s luscious lips again? Hell yes.

 “Okay, but what did your dad say? I’m sure he understood it was a complete accident.”

 “Mhm tell that to the insurance company. Which reminds me, you will be receiving a bill in the mail sometime next week for all the damages.”

 Bea nearly leaped out of her seat as her head snapped towards the blonde, who looked like she was having a great time. “Pop...you’re joking right...that is a thing you are doing right now.” Poppy rolls her eyes with enjoyment, letting out a soft chuckle. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Farmsville, I know you can’t even afford a tire. 

 “Wha-...hey!”

 ***

 After continuous bickering which almost prompted Poppy to unlock the passenger side door and kick Bea out...psychically, while they were doing 80 on the freeway, she eventually pulled into a parking lot. The only main source of light was the huge sign illuminating the words, “Animal Shelter”. Bea blinks in confusion for a few seconds before realizing she was the only one in the car. Poppy had already started walking towards the entrance, greeting a man with a….smile? Oh yeah, Bea was definitely curious now. Poppy actually looked relaxed when Bea had finally caught up with her. The blonde noticed her approach and hummed to herself, “took you long enough, hurry lets go inside.”

 “Pops-did you take a wrong turn...this is an animal shelter...”

 The blonde rolls her eyes so far back into her brain as she grasps onto Bea’s words. “No I did not take a wrong turn you imb--.....this..this is the place I picked.” The brunette flicks her eyes continuously between Poppy and the entrance before shrugging, a surprised expression on her face. Before Bea could say anything else, Poppy grabs her hand and pulls them into the store and into the column where cute puppies reached for them. A beautiful smile immediately lit up Poppy’s features as she bent down to pet one of the baby bulldogs. This gesture immediately enraptured Bea as she watched...Poppy? Or whoever this was. 

 Not wanting to disturb the moment Bea leans down to the cage next to her and picks up the golden retriever who happily licks her face. “Woah okay there boy, a little too much tongue.” She holds up the puppy as he barks playfully and wiggles in her arms. 

 “I’m definitely not complaining about your destination of choice, but can you tell me why you picked it?” 

 Bea gazes over at Poppy who looks like she’s in her true element. The blonde sighs and stands up, brushing her skirt down. “Well my parents own the place…and well to put it bluntly, some of these animals don’t have much time left.” 

 She turns towards Bea, watching her safely caress the puppy in her arms, and smiles, “I figured you have a close connection with animals and would want to make them feel loved before they go.” 

 Bea watches Poppy with a warm look in her eyes, and it was funny because Bea had been around the cheerleader a lot, but this...was different. Almost incredible. And Bea knew that this was the start of a feeling that she would never get enough of. 

 “I would. Thank you.” 

 The two girls spend a good amount of time playing with the animals. Poppy helped Bea feed newborn strays with a bottle of milk, more than often grabbing a hold of the brunette’s hand to steady the slight tremble. Bea didn’t want to admit she was nervous because Poppy was very close to her. And Poppy would never admit that Bea was doing everything right, but she wanted to hold her hand because it felt incredibly soft for a girl who worked on a farm everyday. 

 But she wasn’t the only one who was very observant that night. Bea kept her mouth shut about the situation, but this new side of Poppy blew her mind. There was so much to ask, to say, but the moment was too valuable to ruin. 

 The time seemed to go by quickly as the shelter started to close down. The time they spent with the animals felt fulfilling but Bea never missed the solemn look on Poppy’s face as she watched one of the older cats rest peacefully. There was so much to learn about the girl, and Bea thought it was best that she kept this date going.

 Food. That could work. 

 “Hey pops...I know I said you could pick the place but there’s somewhere else I want to take you. If you’re up for it.” 

 If it was anyone else, Poppy probably would have cussed at them for taking up too much of her time. But this was Bea, and something in her couldn’t say no. “As long as it doesn’t involve you and I in a forest alone.” The brunette laughs easily, wrapping her arm around Poppy’s waist without a second thought. “Oh please, do you really think that’s how I’d get rid of you?” 

 Poppy seems to lean into her touch, letting her strawberry blonde locks brush up against Bea’s cheeks, “I doubt you’d be the one getting rid of me darling, but sure.” 

 ***

“....Alright I take it back! I’ll even let you drive the car because I am not eating at a diner.”

 “Oh come on, they have the best milkshakes in town!”

 The brunette drags Poppy towards the diner without letting go because if she did, Poppy would probably scream bloody murder in the middle of the lot. 

 Bea led her towards a booth in the back, only then freeing her arm. Poppy plops into the seat after realizing there was no way she could charm her way out of this. “Don’t look so bummed out, you’ll change your mind when you try the famous strawberry milkshake.” 

 “I have never had a milkshake in my life.” Poppy visibly cringes, her posture stiffening at the thought of a sugary liquid infiltrating her body. 

 “Well today is your lucky day baby.” Bea winks at her and calls over a waitress who seems too comfortable with laying a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. It wasn’t evident whether the severe blush on Poppy’s face was because of Bea unknowingly using a pet name or because of the mystery girl who decided to do the most in her presence. 

 “We’ll have the regular Tasha, oh and the strawberry milkshake please.” 

 “Just one? What about your friend over here?”

 Poppy snaps her head up at the waitress who seemed to scan her every move. Something Poppy was definitely used to. Her hands are the first to make a move, slowly trailing their way up Bea’s arm from across the table. She doesn’t take her eyes off the waitress as she speaks softly. “Oh we’ll be sharing it honey. Put a cherry on top too okay?”

 The waitress reverts her eyes from the two and walks away without a word. Poppy watches her leave, biting her lip with satisfaction. 

 Bea can’t help but smirk to herself. “Oh you cannot take your eyes off of her can you? Relax, she’s an old friend.”

 The blonde scoffs, keeping her hands on the surface of Bea’s skin. “I don’t care who she is. Does she flirt with every customer in here? What happened to having class? Or some sort of decent? I mean do you talk to pigs like this?

 Bea squints her eyes and sighs warily. “Poppy this is not a five star restaurant, and that’s what you call being polite and kind to well known customers. People here are normal, not trained robots.” 

 Poppy shrugs to herself, her eyes darting around to the wall decorations and other people who are chatting happily with their families. The atmosphere did feel warm and peaceful, nobody sat up straight and practiced proper table manners. Nobody judged her for who she was or what designer she wore. There was room to actually breathe. Bea could sense the blonde slowly starting to adapt and relax in their new environment and she couldn’t be more grateful for making the right decision. When their food had come, Bea slid the milkshake towards Poppy and smiled shyly. “It’s all yours if you like it, we don’t have to share.” 

 “Nonsense Hughes, I can’t possibly drink this all by myself…but I call dibs on the cherry.” She steals the cherry from the top and plops it into her mouth, eyes sparkling from the burst of flavor. It was nothing compared to the milkshake though, Poppy swore she saw stars when tasting the sweet liquid. Bea laughs as a whipped cream mustache develops on the blonde’s lips after hogging the shake for herself.  

 ***

 “I’m paying for our next date by the way.” 

 Bea peers over at Poppy who walked her to her front door, “oh so there’s gonna be another one?” She can’t help but smile at Poppy’s sudden shyness. 

 “Well I enjoyed tonight, a lot. Maybe more than a lot.”

 “I did too.”

 The silence that consumed them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but it was enough to make them stare at each other. Bea’s mind started to fog as she thought about finally closing the distance between them. She wanted nothing more than to mask the silence with a kiss. Bea looks at Poppy, who seems to be lost in thought. 

 “What are you thinking?”

 “What?”

 “You’re usually deep in thought when your eyebrows scrunch together like that. Or maybe you’re just planning on jumping me as soon as I turn around.”

 Poppy smiles softly. “Do you know the feeling when the thing you wanted the most is right in front of you, yet it still feels unreal and almost impossible.” 

 Bea takes a deep breath and nods, “I do.” 

 Okay Hughes you’re gonna kiss her in 3. You’re gonna make the move. Come on. 

 But of course Poppy had other plans. 

 “Mmh!”

 The feeling of Poppy’s soft lips had caught Bea completely off guard. A hum of pleasure escaped her mouth as the heat started to increase between them. Bea grabbed hold of Poppy’s cheek and steadied the kiss, her eyes slowly started to shut as she sunk into the warm, smooth feeling. Bea smiles into the kiss as Poppy’s tongue begins exploring the depths of her mouth, and she bites back a moan when the blonde takes her bottom lip between her teeth, tugging it slightly, feeling the desire pooling in the pit of her stomach. Poppy places her lips back on Bea’s, passion igniting once more as Bea begins to dominate the kiss, her hands finding her way to the blonde’s waist, pulling her in even closer. 

 Poppy felt like she could kiss Bea forever, if it wasn’t for the need of oxygen. When they both finally pulled back, the blonde laughed with joy. “That felt so amazing.” 

 Bea wanted to blow a huge sigh of relief that Poppy initiated the kiss, because imagine fucking that up. She just held her close and basked in the moment. Her lips swelled with excitement as she still felt the ghost of Poppy’s tongue tracing it. Poppy always had something to say, but right now there was so much more she could do. And the first thing she would do is finally make Bea hers.

***

if you want to be tagged in any Poppy fics let me know.

[otp-holic]

The one place (where something happened) (A03)

“In your life there are a few places, or maybe only the one place, where something happened, and then there are all the other places.” Alice Munro. (or the one where they receive a letter from a familiar name and we go into 4Ks of fluff around a lost afternoon in France)

4K. Lamely explicit at one point. Fanfic + Pictures Inside. Trigger for FLUFF as the main plot. Part of the Never let us lose what we have gained series (AO3)

This was supposed to be a manip with 200 words of bantering and it's now 4Ks of fluff with a few pictures. I've decided to leave them inside the cut because I feel they work better with its context there. I'm sorry for the hassle, but I really hope you give this a chance... unless you have cavities, only like fics with amazing plots or are allergic to shameless fluff.

Please do not repost the pictures, I know this is futile, but… I try :)

DAGUERROTYPE, France 1944 Private Collection.

Steve is cooling down from his very early run, enjoying the feeling of the pink sunrise looming over the awakening Brooklyn streets as he walks the last couple of blocks on the way home, when his phone beeps.

“Check your actual mailbox, we dropped something for you there. I think you should appreciate us making it old-fashioned just for you, grandpas!”

Steve smiles at Sam’s text and as soon as he arrives at their building he snaps a picture of the very common and flat envelope with “Barnes&Rogers” scribbled on top of a Stark Logo, to send along his response.

“Nice try, but this is inaccurate. A letter would have never made its way to us without an address or stamp. We’ll send you a proper thank you card to show you how it’s done.”

He can’t help but chuckle at his own joke rereading the text while he opens the door, and when he looks up from his phone and into the kitchen, he is received by a sleepy Bucky looking at the coffee machine like he looks at Steve during their most soft and embarrassingly cheesy moments.

“You love that thing more than you love me, confess it.”

“In the mornings? Yes. I don’t even like you in the mornings most of the time,” he answers matter of factly. “Want some?”

Steve playfully wiggles an eyebrow.

“No way. Your sweaty self is tempting, but coffee smells better. I might join you in the shower later.” Bucky offers him one of the two cups he has poured and he notices the envelope Steve is holding. “What is that?”

“We’ve got mail!” He hands it to Bucky. “I have no idea what's on it, but Sam texted me to say they had something delivered to our mailbox and there it was. Open it.”

Bucky leaves the cup on the counter, face sparked with a curiosity that makes him look twenty-one (and Steve weak on the knees), and goes for it.

The content is a bit underwhelming at first glance: Another envelope, white, no Stark logo, but topped with a bright green post-it with a note on Pepper’s script.

“This got to me via PR. We analyzed it and checked with the source (no peeking, I swear) and it seems legit. With that return address, it’s likely to arouse your interest. Love, P.”

Bucky tears off the post-it and the letter is revealed to be addressed to Steve Rogers at the Stark Tower, but it is when they turn it around when everything goes still for a second.

The return address is some street in Marseille, but what has Steve’s mouth dry and Bucky’s hand trembling just a bit is the combination of the place and the name written on top: Emmanuelle Jaques Dernier.

“Boom?”, Bucky says, trying to cut through their heavy hearts and taking Steve’s hand. It’s a terrible terrible joke, but Dernier would have loved it and he grins.

“That’s a terrible terrible joke,” Steve verbalizes, “but I think at least we’ve reached the same conclusion.”

“Elementary, my dear Steve,” Bucky answers as he opens the second envelope, only to reveal a folded letter and yet another envelope. “It’s a fucking vault of paper!”

Steve takes the letter from him, unfolds it, and quickly scans it (normal office paper, printed, hand-signed) before he starts reading it out loud to Bucky’s undivided attention.

“Dear Mr. Rogers,

My name is Emmanuelle Dernier and I am the great-grandson of Jaques Dernier of the Howling Commandos.

First, let me tell you that we all in our family grew up with amazing stories and praise for you, Sergeant Barnes, and the rest of the team. I never got to meet my great-grandfather or any of them (you), but I’ve always felt like I did.

In fact, that’s the ultimate reason behind this letter: I ached to honor him and I’ve been putting in order all his remaining letters, pictures, and memories so they don’t get lost forever, and there are many things I’m discovering through this journey. So many pictures and tiny details… and amongst them, you and the rest of the Commandos appear at the most random and memorable moments. Nothing that’s going to make it into history books, more like the stories my grandpa used to share with us over and over again, those important tidbits that make him more human.

Anyway, I was going through the pictures he kept when I came across some war photos that didn’t seem to match the 40s timeframe. Typical daguerreotypes from the 20s in a very bad state, probably taken with a camera from the era in 1944 and developed on a later date by somebody who clearly didn’t master the technique.

They were in a very bad state and hidden inside an envelope that said “Terribly drunk soldiers in France making idiots of ourselves in unique and creative ways. Fun evening, horrible hangover. About 20 miles west of the Maginot Line. Autumn ‘44”. I’m attaching a photocopy of that, I hope you can understand my decision to keep the original.

After restoring the daguerreotypes with some experts, all I got were five very bad pictures with silhouettes of people apparently having fun…. but there was one that got a lot better in the cleaning process that feels important somehow. I’m sending the original, as well as the restored version I got.

I, of course, don’t have the whole context, but I hope it brings back a good memory. My great-grandpa might be in the picture, but I don’t think this one belongs to my family or to a museum.

Thank you for your service, I really hope this letter finds its way to you.

E.Dernier.”

“I can’t believe… Steve, most days I’m convinced that day and that place are a figment of my imagination,” Bucky smiles, remembering. “When I think of a moment of pure joy during the war, I think about that afternoon in France, and it always feels unreal. A bubble of air and laughter while we were so surrounded by death.”

Steve nods, reminiscing about that warm and humid September morning when they arrived at yet another abandoned and destroyed little village, this one about twenty miles west of the Maginot Line. They had orders to lie low and wait for twenty-four hours before they started the maneuver to wipe another Hydra base off the map, and that little town was perfect for that.

Among bomb debris and fallen walls, they found one small building miraculously standing next to the remains of the church, so they decided to set camp under a roof for a change since the weather was being a little flickery with the rain, and they had the rare luxury of time.

The inside of the tiny house was as unusual as the outside: nothing was destroyed beyond being dusty and worn by time, and everything they found (furniture, kitchenware, and even fabrics) belonged more to Steve and Bucky’s early childhoods than to 1944, a living museum frozen in time.

Only it was not a museum, but the parish house left untouched and non-raided: old-fashioned clothes, outdated church books, yellowing clergy collars, and, of course, the wine cellar. Oh, that wine cellar… the havoc it unleashed.

“I remember the absolute excitement when Falsworth found all those bottles of old unscathed mass wine from the parish,” Steve brings his memory to words, looking at Bucky, “I’m still a little convinced that we are going to hell for drinking them.”

“Not for that, probably, but it was a wonder nobody died on the spot of wine poisoning, it tasted like sweet vinegar, ugh.”

“But it did his part, right? Took our minds off things; got us drunk, bold and silly.” Steve answers.

“Apparently not all of us,” Bucky says very seriously, looking at Steve.

“Technicalities… I got drunk by proxy. Seeing you all so happy made me giddy and tipsy, too.”

“I came and went… I remember being a little surprised at the clarity of my thoughts at some moments there when some of the guys were basically drooling on the floor. Now I understand, of course.”

Steve squeezes his hand, not much to be said there.

They were already way too drunk by the early afternoon, drinking to the sound of a sudden rainstorm pouring outside. All of them scattered across the small dusty living room and its adjoining kitchen while they went through all the bottles of wine they had been able to find. Cheering for the foregone priest every time somebody raised a glass, and laughing as if there were no ruins or war on the other side; just silly men (boys, really) laughing their hearts out.

“Earth to Steve… I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to see what the hell that envelope is hiding. Especially now that we know about its time stamp.”

“I’m sorry, me too! Gabe drunkenly handling that old camera and those glass plaques the way he did? I’m honestly impressed that he was able to take any pictures at all,” he muses. “Shit, is it weird that I’m nervous?”

“I’m gonna save us the bantering because I’m nervous, too,” Bucky answers in all sincerity. “Truth is, Steve, I remember everything about that day.”

It’s a new admission, a newly opened door for them because for some reason, they have never talked about that peaceful surreal afternoon, and Steve nods in recognition as he silently goes for the envelope one-handed, not wanting to let go of Bucky’s hand because his surface is way cooler than his wrenching insides. Maybe the picture is an overexposed french wall but maybe…

The photo he extracts from the envelope is clearly the original and damaged one Emmanuelle specified in his letter. Anybody else looking at it would see nothing beyond Dernier’s blurry profile, but since Steve and Bucky were there when this was taken, they know exactly what moment Steve is holding in his hand.

“Buck,…” is all Steve can say, struck by the blurry keepsake.

Later in the afternoon when they had already consumed most of the wine and there was not a single coherent thought left in the room, one of the guys took the parish books and besottedly announced that there was a wedding set for today… thirty years ago. Alcohol fueled a goofy idea that escalated at the speed of light, with Morita saying they were going to a wedding because they deserved a celebration, Dernier confessing that he had once considered becoming a priest, and Dum-dum bringing out all the old fashioned clothes from the wardrobe and deciding they were getting nice and clean for the festivities.

“That’s clearly Dernier in the picture killing it in his priest role, right?” Bucky says, half smiling and interrupting Steve’s thoughts. “You know, I went all-in with that fake wedding party. I was laughing to tears when I saw you put on that ridiculously long and ill-fitting jacket from the 10s, feeling weightless and silly for the first time since sailing off, and God knows we all deserved that. And it was all safe and light-hearted until fucking Morita decided you had to be the groom, and...”

“Were you jealous because I won the dashing groom competition?”

Steve’s attempt at a joke is weak, but there’s truth behind it: Morita chose Steve as the groom (“Cap, you are the most dashing and the least drunk”) to a chorus of excited voices cheering for him. Somebody else, most likely Dum-Dum, chose the rest of the roles (Sarge, best man duty; Jones, camera; Morita, keep the wine flowing; the rest of you, misbehave!) and in the blink of an eye, they were all going outside laughing under a light rain, and about to celebrate Steve’s fictional wedding to nobody.

“How could I be jealous?” Bucky cuts in. “Do you remember all you said to me that afternoon? During World War II and in front of a battalion of men?”

“I was drunk.”

“Fuck you!” Bucky disentangles his hand from Steve’s to use both of them to hold Steve’s face and kiss him with violence. “Tell me. Do you remember what you said?”

As if he could ever forget. He can recall every step he took from the house to the makeshift wedding spot amidst the trees where his best man (looking dapper even in that ludicrous jacket) was laughing along Dernier. He can still smell the petrichor, can still sense the blush coloring his cheeks while hoping nobody noticed and can still hear the beating of his heart when Bucky handed him a battered umbrella (“You don’t deserve to get rained on your wedding day, punk”) and a fucking ring made out his shoelaces (“You’ll have to buy something a little more permanent.”). And then…

“Dernier started the ceremony and he wanted to know if I had somebody in mind and I said ‘of course’.” He replays, his voice barely a whisper. “I said I’d had my eyes on a brown-haired Brooklynite since before I could remember. I said that I was pretty sure those blue eyes were set on mine too and that hopefully those eyes would be set enough to want to marry me even if I had never dared to ask.”

He’s been holding Bucky’s gaze the whole time, and he’s far from over yet, but he needs to fucking breathe before he goes on. Neither of them has moved a muscle for the past minute.

“Then he asked me to repeat the wedding vows after him and…”

“And you said Buck, right?”, Bucky interrupts, voice winded. “You fucking whispered I take you, Buck, as my lawful wedded husband till the end of the line. I heard, Steve. Even if the rest of the world didn’t, I did. But you never said anything, so I always deemed it impossible, a product of the corniest nook of my mind trying to outweigh all those bad things, because not even you could be as bold, reckless, and mushy as to do that,…it’s my fucking fault, I should have known better!”

“Not completely reckless, pal. I was scared shitless as I said those words, but what else could I do? You were right by my side about to put a ring on my finger as my “best man”, everyone, including you, supposedly drunk past recollection, and everybody else too far away to hear my whispers. It was such an easy choice in the end because truth should always win over fear. And those vows were. The truth.”

“You have always been too honest for your own good, Rogers,” Bucky is breathless and exasperated and goes for his mouth again, bringing in all he (they) couldn’t in 1944. “You destroyed me, Steve. My knees were as weak as a teenager’s in front of his first crush. I wanted to kiss you so badly when I heard you say all that there in the open… and I couldn’t even acknowledge it.”

“I know. And for what it's worth, I really thought you didn’t remember.”

It is too much. Is it normal to feel this much? Steve would blame it on the serum enhancements, but he was already overwhelmed at 16, so that’s clearly not the answer.

He craves, no, he needs touching, grounding, closer. Bucky. There’s too much space between them even if they are back to kissing like they would have that day in 44, and at any other time if their own lives wouldn’t have stolen those moments from them.

“It happened.” Bucky whimpers, biting on Steve’s lip who abandons his own stool to straddle him, both of them gasping in sync at the feeling of their cocks, hard against each other’s through their soft pants.

Bucky soon ups the stakes by carding his metal hand through Steve’s hair pulling his head backwards to help himself into that spot on his neck.

“Same two moles as when you were tiny, as when we were at that war... Your cute vampire bite. Favorite spot.” He licks on them with the tip of his tongue. Steve growls on cue and Bucky giggles. “Favorite chain reaction.”

“Buck, you cheater, you know what that does to me!” Steve cries out followed by Bucky’s evil chuckle.”Bed, couch, countertop,…I don’t care, but naked. Now. Stained pants due to heavy petting are too much of a trip down memory lane for me. Let me keep a bit of my dignity.”

Steve stands up liberating Bucky from his grip but aching at the loss of contact.

They are naked and making out in the middle of the kitchen in no time; Bucky steadily pushing him against the refrigerator while fiercely grinding against his crotch.

“Hey, ‘teve,” Bucky pants. “The way this is going, it’s my dignity now that's at risk. I don’t think I can make it further than the floor before I come.”

Steve groans into his mouth just at the thought and they start sliding to the floor the best they can until he’s a human blanket moving over Bucky. With no lube at hand, and no time, that’s their best option.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, his hands not leaving Bucky’s sweaty hair. Bucky’s hands on his ass, forcing their groins closer with one while he (almost absently) plays around his hole with the other, driving Steve crazy in the process. Dicks left to do their own thing through pressure and friction. Everything is working. And fast.

“Oh, fuck!” Bucky exclaims “Can you promise me all this stuff with the letter was real and not a long-con plan to assure your fragile masculinity that I love you more than I love that espresso machine?”

That. That silly unfunny excuse of a joke that screams Bucky all over is what pushes Steve all the way over the edge. He fucking laughs as he comes making absolutely embarrassing sounds, pressing their foreheads and noses together until it hurts, and shaking from head to toe without stoping his pressure on the stupid and smug man under him. His lover. His partner. His unofficial husband. His best friend.

His Buck.

“There’s still too much blood in your brain if you can play that dirty,” Steve states, placing one hand between them grabbing Bucky’s hard cock. “Let’s see if I can do anything about it.”

“Your hand, usually so helpful, but I was already following you after that sound you make when you come and laugh at the same time, shit, it always goes straight to my dick, I’m,…” he keeps talking with difficulty between breaths and moans until he leaves his speech unfinished coming all over Steve’s fist.

They kiss on the lips breathing into each other before Steve rolls over. They are sticky and panting in silence, spread on their kitchen’s floor, Steve’s shoulders crushed between Bucky’s and the dishwasher. Domestic bliss at its most literal.

One lavish fuck and two showers later they reemerge into the kitchen in search of something to eat: Bucky is in charge of the food today, while Steve cleans the mess they left a couple of hours ago.

He’s decluttering the counter when their damaged picture laying there puts a smile on his face but also reminds him of the restored version presumably still waiting inside the disregarded letter, so he grabs the envelope to retrieve its contents: one photocopy (from Dernier’s original writing), and the promised photo.

And it is restored. Everything is clear where it was blurry before: Dernier (so deep into his priest impersonation that he’s not even looking at them), the trees, the battered umbrella, the ridiculous jackets… and them.

“You had the nerve to call me reckless and mushy, Buck?” Steve laughs as he stares at the picture where a very young Bucky is about to put a ring on his finger with the least subtle lovestruck expression he’s ever seen (“and it’s for you”, his brain proudly reminds him) “Wow, you might as well be kissing me there, anything would be more subtle than this!”

“Don’t shame me, you punk, especially not when you were the one responsible for breaking my brain back then!” Bucky answers coming from behind and stealing the picture from his hands to scrutinize it. Goofy grin and raging blush quickly taking over his face. “But you’re one to talk, Cap. You are gazing at that shoelace’s ring as if I were handing you a diamond tiara!”

Steve laughs softly at that and moves his right hand to his pocket, feeling the weight of the little compass he had retrieved earlier from one of his drawers. He used to carry it with him everywhere for comfort, but he has a better option now.

“Didn't you know that shoelaces are forever?” He asks, taking the compass out of his pocket and holding it in both hands as he opens it, nudging Bucky with his elbow to get his attention.

Bucky is confused for an instant while he looks at his young face staring at them from inside the little box. Of course he knew that (he made fun of Steve for days and days) but Steve detects the change in his expression when he notices the other thing.

“Wow, you gigantic sap,” Bucky says, taking the compass out of his hands to double-check he is seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. “You saved my shoelace.”

He had. While they were all celebrating his wedding under the rain dancing to no music, he quietly slipped the little string off his finger and tied it to the most secure place he had back then.

“It’s not a shoelace, you jerk, it’s a symbol. A declaration.” He laughs, stealing the compass back to safely pocket it again.

“You are delusional,” Bucky snorts, kissing the top of his head. But he’s widely smiling and lost in thought as he goes back to their sandwiches.

Steve stays on the spot enjoying the peace in their silent companionship, his focus on the latest news showing up on his phone, the text he’s writing to Sam and the comforting sounds of Bucky moving around the kitchen.

“You might have married me, but I never actually married you.” Bucky blurts out of the blue a bit later, sitting by his side as he hands him a plate with a sandwich and some grilled greens on it. “Do you want mayo with that?”

“Uh?” Steve forgets all about the news and the text and looks at Bucky in confusion.

“Mayo, do you want some?” Bucky repeats nonchalantly.

“No mayo, thank you; but I was actually more interested in the other part, you know, that thing about marriage?”

Bucky looks him in the eye: earnest, blushing and with the same look of smug adoration he had on the picture.

“Oh, that part.” He jokes. “You apparently married me in 1944, but I never married you back. And I would like to.”

“Marry me?” Steve asks and Bucky visibly nods.

“I’m sorry for throwing the idea at you like this, books tell me I'm supposed to have candles, music, and a ring, but you showed me that restored picture and I couldn't stop thinking about it, about proof,” Bucky speaks uncharacteristically slow and very softly, voice trembling here and there while he claps his hand with Steve’s finger by finger for reassurance and as a distraction. “A single photo had the power to transform a moment that existed just as a made-up happy place inside my mind into something tangible and real. Something that would be tangible and real for anybody getting a hold on it and looking at our stupid faces.”

“So stealthy,” Steve says, and they both laugh together.

“Proof, Steve. I was slicing tomatoes and thinking how there’s so much evidence, thousands of files! out there proving that all the stuff that fuels my nightmares were real, but nothing solid about this. Us.” Bucky stops for a moment collecting his thoughts, still smiling even with the heavy subject he just dropped into the mix. “Sorry, I believe I put more time into these sandwiches than into thinking this all the way through so I’m…”

“Take your time, we’ve gone from mayo to marriage to nightmares in five minutes so don’t worry, you have me hooked here.”

Steve makes Bucky laugh again as he intended, and he feels their calloused laced fingers immediately squeezing closer.

“It’s stupid because it doesn’t change anything for us but,.. I don’t fucking know, Steve, I think that picture has messed up with my mind! I instantly found comfort in the idea of people finding facts beyond the nightmares now or in the future. An easy to understand, universal and oversimplified proof of how much I loved you and how much I was loved in return.” Bucky takes a breath and stares at him sporting a million-watt smile. “Marrying you,… I would really love that. And for real this time.”

“Ok, Buck.” Steve instantly replies, eagerness winning over thoughtful and heartfelt declarations. He tightens the grip on their joined hands to drive them to his lips and seals the easiest answer he’s ever had to give.

And it's done!Sorry for the cavities, for going on with the fic when it should have ended and for ending it where it might have had to keep going. It was painful and fun. I'm free!

[shadowfae]

We’re all pretty aware that the tumblr otherkin community is at a huge decline; I was wondering if you have any theories as to why that is?

American Protestantism, the decline of queer oppression in North America and the AIDS crisis, helicopter parenting, web 3.0, morality politics, and  Tumblr’s porn ban; roughly in that order and rolled up into one bombshell that was a few years in the coming but nobody really saw it and understood it until it was far too late.

That was a mouthful and probably only made sense if you follow current cyberpolitical theory. For some of you reading this, as with every other hot take I have this has a chance of being passed around, that alone is enough. But for others who had no idea what I just said and need the ELI5 version, let me explain that. Buckle up, this’ll be a long one, and will go into fandom history a bit as well because it is actually relevant.

As we know, tumblr is a very American-centric platform. Twitter is also this way, but less so, but tumblr has it bad. Now, I’m ‘lucky’ in the fact that I’m Canadian and a twenty minute drive from the American border, so that puts me in the ‘privileged’ majority. (I say privileged because I’m not really sure what else to call it. Most of the information going around about politics either directly affects me or indirectly affects me approximately one or two links of contact away. Someone who’s only influenced by American politics because it makes their sister’s online friends sad is not going to be privileged in that way.)

This means that American politics and their social climate overwhelmingly affects tumblr’s social climate. This also bleeds through into other fandom spaces, on twitter, instagram, and Pixiv to name a few places; but here’s where I spend the majority of my time so here’s what I’ve witnessed.

America’s main religion, as far as I understand (from the raised agnostic and currently neopagan view I have), is some weirdass capitalistic-Protestantism that is so many miles from what the actual Bible says that if I were a betting man and knew more about cults than I did, I’d say it’s some weird fucking cult and never set foot in the country again for any reason that isn’t gaming free shipping through a PO box. If you have no idea what I just said but are at least vaguely familiar with Christianity, this graphic explains it pretty well. So we can see there’s some glaring issues with that ideal.

The decline of queer oppression and the rise of queer rights in North America, which is to tenderly include my own country but we all know when people say ‘in NA’ they mean ‘America, and Canada where it applies because the right-wing Republicans are really good in the propaganda department to convince everyone that Mexico is a drug-lords-and-anarchy wasteland to the point where even I don’t actually know what’s down there other than bad drivers and heat’; means two things. One, it’s a good thing by a long shot and do not mistake this as me thinking queer oppression being lessened is a bad thing. But two, it means that thanks to the AIDS crisis, queer folks lost a lot of first-person sources as history.

The queer elders in NA who survived are typically either a) bitter anarchists who are often POC, probably still dirt poor and do recreational drugs or b) university-tenured TERFs (trans exclusionary radical feminists). Category A are the people who Republicans have deemed worthless in every way, because racism, queerphobia, ableism, and all the other ways to be wrong and different and Evil that they can’t handle, because Jeezus would never want them to actually learn to love someone who wasn’t just like them, and they don’t have the compassion to do better. Category B are the people who want to be different in just a teensie little bit, typically with TERFs they want to be lesbians, but they don’t want to challenge the status quo. They’re fine with the way things work, they just want to be on top oppressing others over ripping the whole damn thing down and building a more forgiving system.

Now, due to all those ‘isms and the cheerfully malicious aid of the Republicans, pun not intended but drives home the cruelty of it all, we also see the rise of helicopter parenting. The invention of the internet did not really help this. Basically what you’ve got is a whole bunch of parents who saw the civil rights movement, just got access to the internet and things going viral, know the world is changing, and like all parents, they’re scared for their children. Now instead of parents knowing one or two people in their classes who just went missing one day and everyone assumed they ran away, they hear about eight homicides in the city of kids going to parks at night and dying. The Satanic Panic was another event around this time that contributed to that, but I’ll let you research that one.

This means that all of these parents, instead of doing what their parents typically did and let their kids wander off for the day so long as they’re back by sundown, they can’t let their children out of their sight. There might be a freak accident where their child is decapitated on the playground swing! Their baby might get murdered by an evil Satanist walking home from school! Their dearest darling might go online and tell their address to someone who’s got a 100% chance of being a pedophile who will show up and kidnap them in the night!

…You get the idea. 

Combine those three things I just established, what we’ve got is a lot of queer kids who have a lot of internalized shame for being different and wrong, because they’re queer, and they can’t find spaces offline to be themselves, because all of the elders who would do that are dead and/or inaccessible and their parents won’t let them go to any clubs that aren’t school-related, which they’ll never find a GSA or queer club because Republicans, ‘isms, propaganda, and the war on Category A queer adults have all done their best to ensure that those spaces don’t exist.

So you have a generation of kids who I am the youngest of. The first generation on the internet. The late Web 1.0 (usenets and Geocities) and early Web 2.0 (livejournal was the big one, ff.net too, also 4chan but fuck those guys) generation. What we were taught was: trust nobody on the internet with your real info no matter how much you like them, this is a wilderness and any crimes that happen won’t be punished or seen so don’t put yourself in a position where you’re going to be the victim of one, and everything you put online is never getting taken down so don’t put anything up that you’re not willing to have on the front page of your local newspaper.

This worked out pretty well, actually! You had kids who knew that if they got in trouble, there was no backup coming to save them. Because the form that backup might take - parents and police - wasn’t going to help. Best case, they’d be banned from their friends and online support groups for being queer. Worst case, they’d be jailed and put in juvie and conversion therapy and turn to drugs and become evil Satanists just like everyone says they secretly are already. So they learned very quickly to take care of themselves. Nobody was going to save them, so they learned to not need saving.

And then, well, Web 2.0 shifted to Web 3.0. Livejournal died because parents - the Warriors for Innocence was the big name - went “gasp how horrible my children are being exposed to the evil pedos and homosexuals they’re going to do drugs and die of AIDS!”. Which is uh. It’s filled with a lot of bigotry, and I’m not excusing them - absolutely I am not - but you can kind of see where they’re coming from, if you tilt your head and squint.

Either way, LJ died, tumblr took its place, Facebook was fast taking off, and the fandom folks who had seen mailing lists go inactive, web admins take their fanfic sites down due to copyright, entire fandoms burnt to the ground in flame wars, said ‘fuck that we’re making our own place’ and that’s how AO3 got made.

That’s important. A lot of folks move to AO3, because well, the rules let them. The rules say ‘you can throw literally anything up here so long as it’s fan content and is not literally illegal, so we don’t get taken down’. It’s a swing for the first generation internet users, those kids who know this place is a wilderness and are carving out our own sanctuary.

But. The children under us. The children for whom AIDS is a nightmarish fairy tale, for whom the ghost stories are conversion therapy, for whom know they can’t really talk to their parents about being queer but can trust they probably won’t get kicked out over it. The children who haven’t spent ten seconds without supervision except online, and their reaction isn’t ‘oh thank god I’m finally free to express myself’ but ‘if I get in trouble, who will protect me?’.

And there’s nobody there. Because we went in knowing there was no backup. And that was fine. But now, the actual adults have figured out that hey uh, maybe we should make cyber laws? Maybe we should make revenge porn and grooming children over the internet crimes? And they grew up with that. They grew up learning that no, even if your parents are suffocating and controlling, they’re always be there for you! Some adult will always be there to protect you!

That isn’t the case. It’s not. But they expect it, because it’s always been done for them. They don’t really want to change the status quo, because that means doing it themselves. They can’t do that, because they don’t know how, they’ve been controlled for every single part of their lives thanks to helicopter parenting and without that control, they don’t know how to keep their lives together, and they demand someone come and control it for them, without restraining them.

Effectively, they want someone to ensure they never face the consequences of their actions. Helicopter parents will rescue you from whatever you did, because you’re their precious baby and it doesn’t matter if you punched a kid, you can do no wrong and the other kid clearly started it.

But being queer is doing wrong. Being queer is something Jeezus doesn’t approve of. So they want to make it something he could approve of! But if it’s too off what they consider to be okay, if it’s too different and weird and wrong and evil, that can’t do, that’s still bad, and they’re precious angels, and children, and minors, why are we the adults not protecting them and letting them see it? Why aren’t we being just like their parents  but queer-friendly, why aren’t we protecting the children?

The adults who taught us were the children of those who died as a result of AIDS. The eldest of my generation knew some of them personally. My therapist’s younger brother died at 20 of AIDS, and she told me what it was like. But they don’t have that. These kids of web 3.0, they don’t have that. What they have is over-controlling parents, and the expectation that someone will always be there to protect them but hopefully in ways that don’t hurt them this time, no real understanding of why Category A queer elders are the way they are, and so much internalized shame that they have to do some pretty fancy logic-leaping to keep them from collapsing entirely.

They can’t turn into Category A queer youngsters, because they don’t know how to unravel the system around them, because they’ve never had to actually make choices in their lives and live with the consequences, because they don’t have the example of how to do it. They can’t unravel their internalized shame because again, that’s hard and they don’t have their parents to take away the consequences and pain. It doesn’t come easy to them, so it may as well not come at all.

But, you ask, if Category A queer elders aren’t around to teach the kids, then how are they learning anything positive at all? Well, Category B, our university-tenured TERFs, who don’t want to change the status quo but want to just be at the top of it instead.

For a lot of kids who don’t know how to make hard choices but want to be queer, this is an extremely attractive option. But when they go online to queer spaces, a lot of them say fuck terfs, we don’t support your hate, and they go ‘yeah okay that makes sense’. They can say fuck terfs without ever actually questioning why terfs are bad. They’re Bad and Evil, just like drug addicts, just like fairytale nazis, just like the evil homophobes.

And we saw them say ‘yeah fuck terfs’ and we were like, ‘aight you got it’ and we never questioned if they actually understood us. They didn’t. They didn’t, and we didn’t do enough to fix it, because not enough of us realized the problem. So terfs got a little sneaky. They hid behind dogwhistles and easy little comments, hiding their rhetoric in queer theory that you’ll absolutely miss if you just memorize it and never actually question it and understand why that point is being made.

This goes back to America sucking, because their school system is far more focused on rote memorization over actual logic and understanding of the text. They’re engaging with queer theory the way they’ve been taught, which is memorize and don’t think, don’t question. Besides, questioning and understanding is hard. Being shown different points of view and asked what they think is not only hard but requires them to go against all of the conditioning that says to just listen and agree and never question it, which goes back to tearing the system and internalized shame down, and we’ve established they can’t do that so naturally they don’t do that.

This begets, then, the rise of exclusionary politics. They’re turning into Category B queer youngsters, because we told them ‘hey that’s a terf talking point what are you doing’ and they never questioned why. They learned you can do all sorts of things, just don’t say X, Y, or Z, because they never thought deeply about it.

The children who have grown on Web 3.0 do not want to do any heavy lifting to make things easier for themselves long-run. They want to do as little as possible and have things get better for them. There isn’t enough of us left in Category A, because Category B terfs are very good at recruiting young folks and Cat. A is overwhelming poor, dead, and easily dismissed in the system as evil and bad, so we can’t exactly convince the young folks to listen. If all of the young kids could agree to tear down the system, a lot more older folks might listen. Change always starts with the young, and there’s a reason for that.

But Republicans have figured out, if you get people fighting, they never put together a force that can actually stop you. TERFs, who want the exact same thing as Republicans but with themselves on top, are doing this to queer youth, and Cat. A elders can’t fight back because there isn’t enough of them and the odds are against them, and the young folk like me who follow their lead.

People can kinda handle gay people. It’s not so far from the acceptable normal that it’s impassable. But you want them to handle kinky people? Gay people of colour? Kinky gay people of colour? Trans people? Those are bridges too far to step across. The original idea was to get the foot in the door with marriage equality and inch our way through with racial equality, sex positivity, dismantling ableism and perisexism (forgive me if that isn’t the word for anti-intersex ‘ism), and see if we can’t patch up the system instead of inciting a civil war over this and have to tear down the system entirely.

Well, we might’ve managed that if not for AIDS being the perfect ‘Jeezus is killing all the evil gay people for being sinners’ propaganda machine. As it stands now, not a chance in hell. So long as Republicans and terfs keep everyone fighting, nobody has the power to dismantle their empire, and they stay in power.

So then, you ask me, “Lu what the fuck does that have to do with the decline of otherkinity on tumblr???” and now that you’ve got all that background knowledge, here is your answer.

Those children who want their experiences curated for them and the evil icky content they don’t like to be gone because it disgusts them and anything that disgusts them is clearly sinful problematic and should be destroyed, are what we call ‘antishippers’, or anti for short.

They like being progressive. Sort of. They learned what Republicans and terfs have honed to a fine talent: keep people fighting, hold them to a bar they have to constantly make or risk being ostracized, and harass the people who don’t play along into getting out of your sight forever. Sound familiar?

They learned of otherkinity, and particularly fictionkind, because web 3.0 means if something goes viral on one site, it doesn’t just go viral on that site, it makes it to worldwide newspapers and twitter and nobody ever, ever fucking forgets it. They realized the following: “Hey wait, if I’m this character for realsies, not only does it help me deal with the internalized shame I’ve done nothing to actually fix because that takes work, I can also tell these people who draw gross content I don’t like they’re hurting me personally, and that actually sounds credible, and I can shame them into stopping”.

If this is your first time here and that sounds sickening, it damn well should, and I am so, so sorry that any of us had to witness this, and I am more sorry I and everyone else who personally witnessed this didn’t realize what was going on and put a stop to it. I answer asks and browse the tags and clear up misinformation and it isn’t just a genuine desire to help. It’s damage control, and my own way of trying to deal with the guilt of not stopping this. I’m well aware I couldn’t have seen it coming, I was a teenager myself still learning and no one person has that much power. I still feel like I should have done more, and I’ll do what I can to fix what’s within my power to fix.

So back to the story. This all culminates around 2016 or so. Trump wins the election, and every queer person ever knows they’re fucked, and the younger generation’s only ever heard horror stories, never seen actual oppression that this could bring. We’re all scared. We all don’t know what to do. Nobody has any answers or any control over the situation.

So they lash out. They attack others for drawing things they don’t like, for challenging them in literally any way, for asking them to reconsider the vile shit they just said, for so much as defending themselves from the harassment they just got. And when challenged, they yell “But I’m a minor! A literal child! How dare you attack me, clearly you get off on this, you evil pedophile!” and they sling around every insult in the book until one sticks. Pedophile is a pretty good one, so is abuser, and sometimes zoophile works out too. Freak is great, everyone gets right pissed off about it.

The fact that Category A queer elders were called pedophiles and freaks is not a fact they know or care about. The fact that they are quickly making every fandom community super toxic is also not a fact they care about. The fact that the ‘kin community has words and terminology and they actually mean shit, and the fact that they’re spreading misinformation faster than we can keep up with, are not facts they care about.

So they come in, take our terms, make it impossible for us to find new folks. They realize our anger is easily a power trip, because we’re already made fun of, so they get off on the little power they can find and make fun of us too, and then when we get rightfully annoyed and pissed off, they can hide behind being minors.

Then tumblr implements their porn ban, because nobody’s stopping them, because it isn’t profitable to have porn on here. Considering most of the otherkin community, and most fandom communities, are full of adults who do occasionally talk about NSFW things, and the fact that they’re just banning everyone who so much as breathes wrong, this begins the start of a mass exodus, scattering already fragile communities to twitter, pillowfort, dreamwidth, and a few other places. Largely, twitter, where you can’t make a post longer than a snappy comeback and where the algorithm is literally designed to piss you off as much as possible.

So community elders have largely left, because they can’t stand the drama and the pain of what’s happened, and that’s if they didn’t get banned for being kinky furries who do talk about how their kintypes merge with their sexuality. Most community members have also left or stopped talking about being ‘kin, because they get associated with antishippers and toxicity and it’s just not worth it. Those of us who are left get drowned out by misinformation and trolls and wishkin and antishippers who appropriate our terminology because it supports them getting a power trip, and whenever we argue, we get called pedophiles and freaks and worse.

And now there isn’t much left. I hope we get to find a better place. Othercon was a good place to talk about it, I did a whole panel (it’s on Youtube!) about what we want to do about it. But I don’t really have any answers. 

But to sum it all up... America’s political climate ultimately culminated in destroying queer spaces, and we survived, and then people who wanted to destroy smaller communities to get on top showed up and we were all but defenseless against something we had never, ever dealt with before on this scale.

One of my twitter mutuals mentioned how kinning and otherkin are now completely separate communities. It’s really the best I can do to keep hoping that continues, until nobody realizes the words are at all connected to each other. It’s the best anyone can hope for, now. I hate it. I hate every part of this. But maybe we can salvage what’s left.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

What Remains (Alec Volturi x Reader x Jane Volturi)

"The Volturi? They're coming here?" You frowned and Carlisle nodded. "Alice just had a vision." "When?" You asked. Dread filling you and a sudden urge to leave. "A day." "I'll never be able to get out in time!" You said loudly. "I know, I'm sorry. Just- stay." You silently exhaled your eyes squeezing shut. "Fine, just...fine." 

Your relationship with the Volturi was completely unique. Jane and Alec were your older brother and sister. However, you looked older considering you were changed a few years after them. 

Aro had hoped that you were as powerful as the twins but lost all interest as soon as he saw that you had no gifts. As soon as you no longer felt 'wanted' there was no reason to stay. The twins didn't exactly fight your case. They were loyal to Aro and the twins were always close to one another. It was always them against the world. The stake only made that stronger. 

Although they tried to contact you every now and then. All attempts failing since you never returned the letters. They had stopped centuries ago. 

Seeing them again, was exactly what you thought it would be like. A tsunami of guilt, hitting you again and again. You lasted twenty-four hours. No longer could you avoid your emotions because everywhere you looked they were there and you had to face what you had done. 

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" Marcus suddenly asked, after watching you grow more and more frustrated as time went on. You shook your head violently in response, biting back any cries about to escape you. "Look at me, turn around." Marcus turned you to look at him, the twins a few feet behind him and keeping their distance. You raked your hands through your hair but never met eyes with anyone, your jaw clenched. "I'm a horrible person." You continued to mutter to yourself. "Why?" Marcus asked. "Because it's my fault the twins got hurt that night." "What?" He asked. 

“Hello, little one.” A man knelt down to your level making you look up from the daisies bunched in your hands. You looked up at him, seeing most o the village behind him.  “There you are, your mother sent us to find you. She’s very worried, where is your brother and sister?” You gave him a startled impression.  “Am I in trouble?”  “No, sweet child but your mother is very worried, How about you run home now that we know you’re safe and we can go and fetch your older brother and sister, do you know where they are?” You nodded before pointing behind you. “They’re picking flowers for mummy. Mummy likes those.” The man smirked. “Thank you, sweet child. Off you go, don’t keep your mother waiting.” 

Your mother taught you to be nice and polite, that with your young age, you were more than obedient. However, when you got to the square you were met with your hysterical mother along with some of the children’s mothers in a heated argument.  “Mummy? It’s okay now, they found me!” You ran up to her but some how she seemed more hysteric.  “(Y/N)! Where is your brother and sister!? Did you tell them!?”  “Yes mummy, they’re picking flowers for you! The grown-ups are going to get them!” Your mother burst into tears.  “...mummy?” 

“I told them where they were, it was my fault. My mother died that night, she got struck in the head and the last memory i had of my older brother and sister was them screaming in agony as they fire began to consume them.” You slowly shook your head. “None of that would have happened if i hadn’t told them. My mother knew it, its why she cried as soon as i told her and after they were gone, i knew it too.” You kept your eyes to the floor, unable to bring yourself to look at anyone. "It's not your fault." Marcus finally said. You shook your head. "It's not your fault." He repeated. “You were only a child, you couldn’t have known.” You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut.  “Have you been feeling this guilt all this time?” Marcus asked, sounding almost surprised. Immediately you took off running, the house was too small, the walls were closing in on you. 

“Should one of us go after them?” Emmett asked. “No.” Carlisle responded. “Let them release their pain. Besides, we are not the one’s who can help them.” Carlisle’s eyes flickered to the twins. 

You ran into the woods, as fast as you can, jumping over any large obstacles and faster than you had ever done before. Finally you stopped, faced with silence. Only the rustling of the trees from the wind, Although the calm didn’t pacify the storm inside you. A pained scream escaped you, finally letting go of all the agony you had felt. You fell to your knees, curling up against the forest floor.

This was exactly why, you couldn’t see them. The two you had loved the most, you were the source of their misery. You did this to them. You destroyed them and so destroyed yourself.  Two black shoes moved to your field of vision. You looked up as Alec knelt down onto his knees to your level. "I'm so sorry." You barely managed out a whisper. "You don't have to apologise to me." Alec said. Carefully Alec lifted his arm, wrapping it to the back of your neck and pulling you toward him. He pulled you in slowly, closer and closer, until you were wrapped in his arms in a hug. You inhaled, his scent filling your nose. He held you tightly his gaze fixed behind you. "I'm your brother, you know you could never hurt me." Alec wouldn’t let you pull away, pressing you into him like you’d disappear. 

Footsteps came from behind you and you were barely able to turn your head to see Jane. She, too, knelt beside you.  “Jane-” You began but she cut you off.  “It was never your fault.” Jane said. “You were the most innocent out of all of us and I hate that you’ve spent all this time thinking you weren’t. Our mother taught you to be nice because she feared you’d get the same treatment as we did if you weren’t. None of us could ever blame you. You were the one who thought the highest of us.” Jane moved closer, wrapping her arms around your waist and putting her head against Alec’s arm that was holding your head to him. “Everything is going to be okay.” Jane whispered and if you could cry you would have in an instant.

[the-realharleyquin]

So I didn't want to make a really long post even longer and I don't have Xkit so I will make my own but here is the post and some others that got me on this rant. it also timed perfectly with my current hyper fixation and special interest. {Source} {Source} 

The Short version if you don't want to go to the link is the MCU is fucking with people's perception since they only use CGI for fucking everything. I am in total agreement with it fucking over people when it comes to how they think shots can be done. Not saying that CGI animators don't breath life into their work but when it is nothing but CGI and a person(s) on a blue/green room’ it is hot garbage. Anyway no big spoilers or anything just basic comparing & contrasting Doc Ock's actuators between No Way Home and Spider-man 2; so some gifs and screenshots below the cut. Mostly of Spider-man 2 since there isn't a lot of clear GIFs of the new movie that I can use when I made this post. I just don't want to spoil anything for anyone. I do genuinely like the movie and think it is one of the better ones they have released in a while, but that may just be my nostalgia for Spider-man.

So Spider-Man 2 (2004) they used a mix of puppetry, animatronics, and CGI. They used this not only because the CGI of the time wasn’t as capable as it is now but it was cheaper to do certain shots with nothing but puppetry and animatronics. Bonus points it would still look nice years down the line. It does tbh It also gave Alfred Molina the ability to actually feel the weight of the actuators since the actuator props that were made weighed 60lbs - 75lbs (the info gives varying answers). That is a lot of weight that gave him a reference of how Otto would be weighed and slowed down by them. So there is at least to me a BIG difference in how Otto moves in the new movie vs the old one. I really am not going to rant about that; its so small compared to what I am going to rant about; The close up shots on Otto and the actuators.

In Spider-Man 2 you get shots like this, all puppetry and robotics! Fucking cool right? It’s so crisp and clean and isn’t dated like if they were to make this CGI from 2004. All of these shots are puppets! How could you look at this and say that it doesn’t work or looks bad?! Fun fact apparently those were actual needles

Compare that to the CGI from the movie

While most of the GIFs are fighting scenes/farther away shots and isn’t the differences that really upsets me or what I am trying to compare. But I genuinely can’t tell sometimes what is puppets and what is CGI in close up shots or less action packed scenes; Honestly if five year old me and twenty-two year old me still can’t tell/have problems telling; That means it is some good shit! 

Like I can’t tell with these ones! My roommate and I sat watching these gifs trying to figure it out and we had to guess and we are still not to sure!

Now compare it to No Way Home with nothing but CGI for fight and close up shots. One scene that really shows what I am talking about is when Otto gives the nanotech back to Peter. In it you get close up of the actuators and while the CGI looks fine right now (2021-22) it is going to look horrible within a year or two if it doesn’t already look like hot garbage  It doesn’t help that when Otto is watching the claw/head of the actuator, Alfred lags behind the head not even a few frames into the shot. You then see all of them standing around and Otto’s arms aren’t moving very much so using puppets/robotics hell even fucking Styrofoam for the scene wouldn’t have be hard to do.

I can’t find any gifs of that scene so these will have to do Like I said the CGI looks amazing I won’t deny that; But you can get the movement in these gifs with puppets and touch up as needed. 

 The fight scenes? Amazing! Love them! Completely understandable why CGI would and is used during them! The Use of CGI in the slower scenes? No gross! Cannot comprehend why you would do something so complicated and time consuming. To be honest some shots with the CGI in Spider-Man 2 still looks awesome! And has a certain charm to it as it has aged! But that is because they didn’t give the animators an ungodly amount of work and insane deadlines. They used the CGI how it should be used; To touch up scenes or to do things that yes the actors can’t do or is to dangerous to do. Relying on just CGI for actors to play off ends up looking like shit. Look If Alfred didn’t want to wear the Doc Ock harness/arms thingy like he did back in ‘04 that is fine and understandable! They still could have made a small lil actuator head and arm on a stick for visualization for the actors and give them something to play off; like this.

It is not that fucking hard! It also gives some really talented people the opportunity to make some really great stuff! Trying to kill off one part of your industry will just hurt you in the long run. In all honesty it is! You have animators with impossible workloads and deadlines, effecting the animators health physically and mentally. Sucking them dry of their artistic spark and love for their craft. If you want to have a movie with a soul, give the actors something to work with other than that shit green/blue room with nothing in it but the actor and don’t overtax your animators!! 

 Anyways thanks for coming to a practical effects and CGI enthusiast’s TedTalk!