#them covering each other's bases while fighting side by side!!

[my-name-is-markus-with-a-k]

I will always defend Markus being able to kick Connor's ass. Markus is not 'just' a domestic android. He wasn't made specifically to be a caretaker for Carl. His origins are mysterious, he was made as a part of a Cyberlife secret project and then later given to Carl by Kamski as a gift when Carl had his accident. He's an RK prototype, just like Connor. And yes, he's possibly a great deal older than Connor, but that doesn't automatically mean that Connor is better, he's just newer. Also, Markus is more durable and resourceful than Connor, whereas Connor is faster and more efficient than Markus.

IDK, it just bugs me when people dismiss Markus out of hand because "ofc Connor is better because Connor's an RK800 and Markus is just an RK200". Because that's just incredibly lazy thinking.

I'm also in no way saying that Connor can't kick Markus' ass either. I do actually think that the odds are stacked slightly more in Connor's favour, especially if he's got a gun in his hand.

But like, maybe don't just base your opinions of Markus' abilities on what you've just seen him do in the pacifist path, whilst looking at the whole scope of Connor's story.

[skyeisabarnes]

Soldat

She and The Winter Soldier are each other's only solace on the H.Y.D.R.A base.

The Winter Soldier X Reader

Bucky Barnes X Reader

"I need to know, kid-"

The snarl that left her lips was animalistic. "Don't call me that," she said, her voice low enough to be a growl.

A sigh left Steve's lips as he stared at her. But his blue eyes weren't intimidating, not in the slightest.

Not compared with what she was used to.

He held up a picture. "Do you know this man?"

It wasn't a clear picture, not in the slightest. Nearly impossible to make out who the picture was of. But she knew. Of course she knew who he was. He was the most terrifying man she had ever met.

"Have you got a date with death, Captain America?" She mused, tugging at her binds. "Because that's all you'll get by seeking him out."

A single flame appeared on her fingertips. She held it against the rope around her wrist.

Steve let his head fall, shoulders slumping forward slightly. "Why are you doing this, kid? Why do you want to work for H.Y.D.R.A?

She clenched her jaw. "I told you, Captain, don't call me kid." She smirked at him as her flame singed at the rope. "I've fucked men older than you."

Pink dusted his cheeks as he turned away from her.

"And," she continued, "for the record, I don't want to work for H.Y.D.R.A. Just like your friend, I don't have a choice."

Her words weren't supposed to be comforting, but warm blossomed in Steve's chest. Of course Bucky wasn't doing this out of choice. Somehow, he was being forced.

The rope fell away from her wrists, but she stayed still.

"He will come for me."

"The Winter Soldier," Steve said and she nodded, confirming it.

But then Steve crouched in front of her, his arms resting on his legs. "Good."

Her fist connected with his face. Not yet surrounded by fire, that would come if he didn't let her go. "Trust me, Captain, I'm saving you!" She yelled as he stumbled away from her, giving her room to stand up. "The Soldier won't hold back when it comes to me."

It wasn't supposed to be a brag, but it was. When you have Earth's most dangerous assassin at your beck and call, it's kind of hard not to brag.

Each step left marks in the floor, soot in the shape of her boot. "If it wasn't for him, I'd thank you for getting me out, Captain." She said it with such sincerity, Steve could only stare. "But I can't leave him there."

Her fists were on fire as she walked away from him. Captain America should have been putting up more of a fight, but he let her go, watched her walk away from him.

At the sounds of screams from outside of whatever building she was in, she broke into a run. Through the empty halls of the building and through the doors, out into the light of midday.

Whatever plan Captain America had, it was a bad one.

He stalked towards her, killing everything in his path. The mask and goggles covered his face, but she knew it was him. She would always know it was him.

"Soldat."

His movements were slow, purposeful as he moved towards her. He said nothing as he became hurried, almost desperate.

This wasn't the first time she had been his mission. She had never been afraid of him, of the danger he possessed.

He held his gun in his metal hand,his other arm stretched out towards her. He spoke in Russian as he took her hand and pulled her into his side.

"I'm okay," she said back to him, switching to Russian. "I'm safe, Soldat."

He was silent as he took her away, his hold on her tight. She wrapped her arms around him as he took her away on his bike. Her arms were tight around him, face pressed against his muscled back.

All the while, she had no idea she was being tracked.

***

He held her tight as H.Y.D.R.A tried to pull them apart. But The Winter Soldier wasn't going to let her go.

"Soldat," she whispered, thumb moving over his cheek. "I'm okay. You can let me go."

A grunt left his lips, but he made no move to release her. But then they started to say those fucking words. "Longing."

"No!" She cried. She searched his blue eyes, tried to work out who he was. The Soldier, or the man he used to be.

"Rusted."

"Soldat." His hand came to rest on top of hers, his other arm still holding her tight.

"Furnace."

He drew in a sharp breath, but he didn't let go of her. He wouldn't let go of her, until his mind wasn't his own.

When they finished those damned words, The Winter Soldier released her. He was still reluctant, moving slowly and unwillingly.

But, as soon as he let her go, they grabbed her, took her away from him. Unlike the Soldier, she wasn't brainwashed. She didn't need reconditioning.

She struggled as they took her away from The Soldier. But she would find her way back to him, she always did. The last time H.Y.D.R.A tried to keep them apart, The Winter Soldier slaughtered everybody in his way to get to her.

"Kidnapped by Captain America," said her handler, her researcher as he stalked towards her, notebook open. "I thought you were trained better than that."

She stared at him, resisting a scowl. "Father," she said and held her chin up. "I don't understand why I am here."

Her father released a chuckle. "We need to understand how, Darling. How did a highly skilled killer get kidnapped by Captain America."

She shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her boots. "He caught me by surprise," she mumbled and shoved her hands into her pockets.

"How?"

"James."

She stopped in her tracks upon hearing his name, her mission forgotten. She knew that name. James. Her Soldier.

"You know James."

Her hands shook at her sides, ready to swing. "No," she managed to spit. But her voice was strained, as if it hurt to say.

But really, she didn't know a James. She knew The Winter Soldier, not the man he was before. The man he was before wasn't hers to know.

"Sorry about this, kid."

"I'm not a-"

But something hit the back of her head, and she crumpled to the floor.

"I don't know," she answered, her voice shaking. "I wasn't concentrating."

He wrote something down.

"It won't happen again."

"It won't happen again, what?"

"It won't happen again, sir."

They dragged her away after that, dragged her back to her soldat. But they didn't have to drag her, she went willingly. All she wanted was to get back to him. Her steps were hurried, her guards holding her back.

As soon as she was in the cell, she was upon him. "Soldat," she whispered as she stood before where he sat on the bed.

His legs were already parted, but he gave her enough room to climb between them. His hands settled on the backs of her thighs as he stared up at her.

Again, she couldn't tell who she was looking at. The Winter Soldier, or James.

Her hands settled in his shoulders. "Soldat," she whispered again. "James."

"I know that name," he whispered.

"It's yours, according to the man that kidnapped me."

A sigh left his lips. His hands moved up, settling on her waist. "Did he hurt you?" He asked, blinking when she pushed his hair out of his face.

She shook her head. "No, but he wanted to get to you," she answered and kissed him. It was only quick, testing what James would let her do.

He kissed her back, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"What if I could get you out of here?" He whispered, his flesh hand moving up her back. "Would you want to come with me?"

This was all she had ever known. But she hated it. There had to be better for her out there, better with him. With James, with her Soldier. She would take him any way she could get him. As James. As the soldier. As Bucky.

She nodded her head as she climbed into his lap. "In a heartbeat," she whispered as she laid her head against his shoulder.

His hand closed around something around her back. He tugged it from her shirt and held it in his palm. "I think I've found us a way out, sweetheart."

She was so damn scared, but she had him by her side. Her James. Her Soldier.

[buryustogether]

yandere alastor x fem!reader hcs

sfw + nsfw below

i have this idea that, when you were both still human, alastor married you for a marriage of convenience (probably tax purposes). he's not one for love, but he does quite like to make things easier for himself, as well as a bit of reliable companionship from someone he can trust. he found it rather cute that you were head over heels in love with him.

he insists upon keeping you at his side almost 24/7. you accompany him everywhere; to his station while he's broadcasting, about town as he runs his errands, even to his overlord meetings, though you are forced to wait outside. he knows you won't up and disappear; even if you weren't such a good little pet, there isn't anywhere you could run that he couldn't find you.

the other overlords tease alastor about his little 'pet' he keeps on such a tight leash. he doesn't ever object to this title.

gives you dancing lessons and doesn't allow you to rest until you can copy his movements exactly. if you collapse from exhaustion before that, he'll coo and brush your hair out of the way, then haul you to your feet and start again from the beginning.

he won't have you doing much other than keeping your shared home clean and occasionally cooking a meal or two. you're his darling, he can't have you wearing yourself out taking care of him. he'll do most everything - he just wants you to sit there and look pretty for him.

won't allow you to leave the table until you finish the meals he makes for you.

loves to have you hanging on his arm. you're like a precious little trophy for him to show off - only his, and no one else's.

being alastor's beloved companion makes you a prime target for blackmail and kidnappers, but he doesn't want you to fret, dear - he has it covered. his shadows are on your trail in the extremely rare occasion he's not with you, and he's killed demons for less than even looking your way.

doesn't allow any kind of modern technology inside his home or upon your person, even if you died long after him. he considers cellphones to be the property of his enemies, and you wouldn't want him to catch you wearing the symbol of the v's, now, would you?

he picks out your outfits for each day, even has them custom made at the tailor's just for you. he knows best, darling, so don't fight him on this. he doesn't want you going out looking like some common harlot, not when you belong to the radio demon.

often takes out his frustrations of the day on you at night when you're alone in his bedroom. he bites and scratches and thrashes like a beast trapped in a snare, and he relishes in having you wear the marks when he's done.

his favorite position to have you in is plain old missionary; not only is it traditional, but he enjoys having complete control over you while he bucks up into your heat.

like most animal-based demons in hell, he enters a rut once a month and rarely emerges from his quarters; which means you don't, either. at least three times a day, and he only stops to give you rest and to whisper the filthiest things you've ever heard in your ear.

enjoys bondage to an extent, but only on you. he's not opposed to pretty little collars wrapped around your neck, either.

now, when you're in the mood and he's not, he's not totally cruel. while he won't fuck you when and wherever, he'll allow you to straddle his thigh and hump his leg like an animal while he continues whatever work he was doing before.

he may often be brutal, he knows aftercare is extremely important. he can't leave his darling bruised and broken for next time, can he? licks up any blood he may have drawn and ensures you drink when you're done, even if he has to hold your back against his chest and tip your chin up to force the water down your throat. he'll usually run you a bath and, surprisingly, will gently bathe you before dressing you in the finest bedroom silks in hell and putting you to bed.

he doesn't sleep much, but since meeting you, he's replaced many of his nighttime activities with sitting at the side of your bed and watching you sleep.

alastor doesn't love; but he knows he would tear hell apart at the seams if you were ever taken from him.

[daycourtofficial]

Come to Bed

Summary: based on this request - a text from Azriel was meant to go to you, but went to his entire family instead.

Author’s note: I loved this idea this was so fun and definitely very on brand for the inner circle tbh

Az: Come to bed :(

It was a short message. Azriel had been sick for two days now, and since meeting you, he can’t remember how he’d just go on during his sick days.

He used to go to work just fine while sick. He’d wear a mask and keep his distance, but he’d be able to go no problem.

But ever since you came into his life, now he was too spoiled when he was sick to go anywhere or do anything. You had insisted that your cuddles would heal him, along with the various soups you made him eat every day.

Honestly? It was a little awesome. If it weren’t for how shitty he felt, that is. You rubbed his back until he fell asleep, whenever he got up to shower you washed his sheets, and you brought him medicine every few hours. He didn’t have to lift a finger, and he was soaking in every moment of your attention.

But now you were downstairs, talking with Elain about something or another. You had told him what for before you left, but his feverish haze had made him forget. He woke up alone, having dozed off in your absence, and all he wanted was you to come back. He had just texted you to come back to bed when his door creak opens.

Azriel pops his head out of the nest he made to find Cassian crawling up his bed on top of the covers, wrapping his arms around Azriel, and spooning him over the covers.

Azriel coughs, “what are you doing here?”

“You asked for me to come to bed.”

Azriel’s head hurts trying to figure out what he means when his door opens once more to Rhysand strolling through the room, lying on Az’s other side.

“Ah, come on Azzy. It’s just like when we were younger,” Cassian tells him, his body heat helping with the chills taking over Azriel’s body.

Azriel sniffles, “we were like eight years old.”

“Well, Cassian hasn’t matured much since then,” Rhysand chimes in, staying on the bed but not too close to Az. He’ll provide some level of comfort with his presence, but he’ll be damned if he lets his brother get him sick.

“Why are you two here?” Azriel croaks, every word hurting his poor throat.

Rhys opens his phone to show him the family groupchat they had, the last message coming from Azriel saying, “Come to bed :(“

Azriel groans reading it, “I’m sure you could guess I sent it to the wrong person.”

Cassian chuckles, causing vibrations through Azriel’s back. He’s too weak to fight Cassian off of him, and the weight of him actually feels nice. Maybe Cassian would make a great weighted blanket after all.

“I never second guess any texts I receive. I assumed you missed me, it has been days since you’ve seen my glorious face.”

Cassian and Azriel continue bickering while Rhysand watches in amusement.

Mor comes in shortly after, bringing a warm cup of tea for both herself and Azriel, handing one mug to him while lounging across the foot of the bed. The tea soothes his throat, and he hates to admit it, but he does appreciate the presence of his family. He had been quarantined for days, trying to keep to his room as much as possible. He had grown quite accustomed to his big, invasive family. Your company was more than enough, but he did miss Cassian’s daily debriefs of his day.

Feyre comes in, taking residence next to Mor, as Cassian tells them all ridiculous versions of how he managed to destroy that building in the Summer Court. Each tale more ridiculous than the last, with Feyre even adding her own absurd version of events.

“I heard that a dragon flew in and Cassian fought it off with his bare hands and the only damage was that one building!”

Their laughter rings in Az’s ears as he closes his eyes, dozing, but not truly asleep.

You were shocked walking back to Az’s bedroom to find both of his brothers, Feyre, and Mor all lounging in bed with him. Azriel perks up at your figure in the doorway, somehow knowing you were there despite his resting state. His voice crackles from his sore throat, “save me?”

You walk in, squeezing yourself between Rhys and Azriel, and your boyfriend melts in your arms, falling asleep quickly as his family still chatters around you.

The next time Azriel wakes up, it’s dark outside, but he’s still cuddled to your chest.

“Hi sweetheart,” you tell him, setting your book down. He practically purrs at you running your hand through his hair.

“Sleep well?”

He presses his face back into your chest. “I would have slept better if they weren’t all annoying.”

You laugh, leaning over to kiss the crown of his head.

“Poor baby with a loving family,” you coo, and he huffs.

“They’re not loving, they’re annoying busybodies. Except Feyre. She hasn’t gotten that bad yet.”

You smile, untangling his hair with your fingers.

“They might be annoying busybodies, but they love you and you love them.”

He squeezes you a little tighter. “I’m sick. I only have so much love to give and it’s all going towards you.”

You laugh, your hand moving down to stroke his back. He relaxes in your embrace, your fingers soothing his clammy skin.

“Okay, you can wait until you’re feeling better to love them again.”

“Deal,” he tells you, eyes growing heavy once more. “Just - don’t tell Cassian. He’ll get upset.”

[crowsofdarkness]

pairings: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

You stumble upon a scene that awakens something inside of you so Bucky helps you unleash it.

18+ CW's below the cut: arranged marriage, dry humping, blood, mentions of torture, licking up dry blood, pussy spanking.

I shouldn’t have done what I did, sneaking into the hidden room at the mansion, but Bucky had been so quiet about some things lately. I couldn’t help but be curious about what he was doing in that room. Especially when I heard screams coming from it. So when I followed him inside, I nearly fainted at what I saw. 

Bucky laying a vibranium fist into a familiar face. 

My ex boyfriend, the one I’d been with before my arranged marriage to Bucky. I confronted him about the bloody scene in front of me which only ended with Bucky dragging me back up to our bedroom. It was clear that I wasn’t happy with this arranged marriage but I had no choice. I needed to do this to keep the war between our families at bay. I didn’t love Bucky but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him, especially right now covered in my ex’s blood as he towered over me. 

“This marriage isn’t real! You can’t defend my honor just because you feel like it. And you can’t kill everyone I ever dated because they touched me,” I yelled at him, holding my chin up high. 

Bucky’s nostrils flared, his anger radiating off of him in droves, and he leaned farther over me causing my body to fall to the bed. His arms locked me in on both sides of my head and I felt his scorching breath fanning over my lips. We were so close that if I titled my head up just a tad, I would finally be able to figure out what he tasted like; a month into this marriage and we had barely touched, even though I couldn’t deny I wanted to know what it felt like. 

“Let’s make one thing clear here. You’re mine, solnyshka. Anyone who disrespects you will pay a price, regardless of who they are,” Bucky pressed his hips against mine. 

I sucked in a breath when his cock brushed along my pussy, over the silk fabric of my pajama shorts. My hands shook at my sides, unsure what to do with them, so Bucky grabbed them and pinned both of them above my head; both wrists fitting in one of his hands. 

“Wh-what did you call me?” I choked out, suddenly realizing what he said. 

His nose brushed along my jawline, breathing me in. 

“Solnyshka,” Bucky almost purred. 

I swallowed thickly, doing my best to keep my strong hold against him even though it was faltering with every brush of his cock against me. He was slowly dry humping me and I was giving back to him with even strokes. There was still dried blood across his bare chest painting him in crimson, and I could still smell the lingering copper scent. 

“What if I don’t like it?” I panted, nearly gone in bliss. 

He groaned while grazing his teeth along my jugular. “Too bad because it stays. Solnyshka.”

With one of his hands still keeping mine locked about my head, his other slipped underneath my nightshirt to graze over my blazed skin. We were like a couple of horny teenagers that found their first moment alone with each other with how frenzied our movements were against each other. My orgasm was building slowly, the familiar tingling sensation in the base of my spine. It was so close, I could taste it on the tip of my tongue and I wanted nothing more than to scream out his name as I came undone underneath Bucky. 

“How wet are you, solnyshka?” He flicked his tongue against my earlobe. “I bet you're soaked just from this.”

I nodded, too far gone now to try and fight against him. I needed this release more than oxygen and it was almost as if Bucky understood because his hand slipped between us to tease my folds over my shorts. 

“I fucking knew it,” he chuckled darkly. “How bad do you want my cock, Y/N?” 

I bit the inside of my cheek, not wanting to give away how bad I actually wanted this. Instead I raised my hips up towards his hands, a silent beg falling from my lips. 

“Use your words,” Bucky demanded before smacking my pussy. 

“Shit!” I cried out. “Fuck you!”

He wrapped one of my legs around his back so he could press his clothed cock over my pussy at a different angle and it was everything I needed for the coil to snap. 

“Oh god,” my body convulsed underneath Bucky as I let my orgasm overcome all of my senses. 

White hazy stars danced at the edges of my vision. 

I could taste the blood from Bucky’s chest as I lapped at it, unknowingly. 

All the noises around me seemed to fade away. The only thing I could hear was Bucky’s grunts as he continued to dry fuck me. 

At some point he let go of my hands and my nails scratched at Bucky’s back, working myself through the aftershocks. 

The scent of his cologne hung along the edge of my nose as I breathed him in. 

“That’s such a good girl, Y/N. You sound so pretty when you cum,” Bucky praised while dragging his teeth along the side of my neck. 

My jaw fell slack when I finally came down from my high and Bucky began raising the hem of my shirt up over my stomach. 

“You can lie all you want, Y/N. But what you saw downstairs turned you on,” he flicked his eyes up at me from his new position over my belly. 

“You’re crazy,” I breathed, letting my eyes flutter shut. 

“For you,” before dragging my shorts down my legs. 

[bettystonewell]

TO YOU I BELONG: CHAPTER 4

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn't looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain't real. He still has free will, and saving you is just another part of the job. Except, monsters aren't the only things you need saving from... 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Word Count: 4.6k words

Chapter Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced physical abuse, referenced sexual assault, language, Dean pre-gaming, fingering

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Sparks flew. Was that the crap everyone always spoke about? Because Dean kind of understood it now.

His body from head to toe was buzzing with excitement, and the closest thing he could liken it to was that blend of exhilarating and nerve-racking jitters he encountered during a fight. His fists flying and landing on another man (or monster) held the same principle as flint hitting tinder, didn’t it?

Yeah. That fit.

But while beating Dick, and any other brawl he’d experienced, required movement and forethought, this kiss was simple and far less complicated than any other he’d shared before.

His soulmate and her delicate lips touching his. Succulent and savouring, with just the right amount of wetness. Even making a soft squelch when his mouth pulled away from yours to get a good look at you.

Your hair was messy against the pillow. No longer knotted and clumped together, as it was three nights ago when he’d found you in the park. It picked up highlights from the lamp he always kept on in the corner of his room.

That same light, which made even the cheap steel of his shotgun on the wall sparkle like silver, now cast shadows over your injured shoulder and neck. They hid some of the fainter bruises while darkening the deeper punctures gathering around that perfectly rounded D, and sharp angles of the Winchester W.

The letters were more prominent now, but they failed to compare to your fully developed black eye.

“You better put some more ice on this today,” he said as his thumb swiped a gentle trail below the colourful ring.

Your smile was infectious, even with the injuries. Your fingers cupped his chin, twisting his head to inspect his own, left, right, then left again. “I think you need it more than I do.”

Yeah. The two of you made quite the impressive pair. Not just with the matching marks from Dick on your face, but by the way you’d fit into his life and not just his bed.

Not that any night moves had gone on - yet. Things had remained PG at second base. A little tongue and boob action here and there, but nothing more. He’d never push you to third because he needed to make sure this was what you both wanted. It didn’t hurt to know each other first, even if the process took place under his sheets. He wouldn’t have it any other way, and there was plenty of time.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Your fingers scratched through his stubble to gain his attention. “You’re spacing out again.”

With a cocked brow and a smirk, he lowered himself down to recapture your lips. He needed a bit of courage before he brought up the nitty gritty of your cycle and his suppressant taking. He’d been meaning to do it. The idea of his world with you in it was fast becoming more real as each extra hour he spent with you passed, but with it was the matter of claiming you, and all that entailed.

Nips from his teeth, licks by his tongue. One hand pushed through your hair while the other massaged every inch of your own baby-smooth skin below.

His elbows and knees balanced his upper half to hover above you, which was both a blessing and a curse. If he could feel his cock beginning to bear a life of its own on your leg, then you most likely did, too.

Fuck.

Dean rolled off to the side, bringing you with him to rest your head against his chest instead. He pulled the covers with you to drape them across your shoulder. Close and cosy, but away from his clear arousal, choosing it best to leave the pressure in his pants over putting it on you.

“I, ah, just need a sec,” he breathed through the grin plastered over his face.

If only you’d give him one.

Your hand patted his sternum, but your leg wrapped over his, bringing your knee close to his semi.

“Not that I’m complaining, sweetheart, but you’re making it hard for me here.”

“Pun intended?” You asked, earning yourself a light smack on your rear.

It was playful, but after what you’d been through, he regretted it, even though you didn’t seem to mind. And his hand remained, running soothing circles over the firm muscle and the fabric that covered it.

“I’m not that fragile,” you said all too knowingly.

“And I can’t wait to find that out for myself. When you’re ready.”

Your walk still held that awkward gait it had in the motel, but you insisted nothing was wrong, hiding every sigh and cringe behind a smile or bouts of small talk.

“Are you leaving that up to me, Doctor Winchester?” More pats from the tips of your fingers struck his chest with each syllable of his name.

“If it were up to me, you’d have seen one,” he leered. Google might’ve said an injury like yours took up to two weeks, but it wasn’t a medical professional. Neither was he.

“They’ll start asking questions,” you whispered.

“So? We lie. In case you didn’t know, I’m good at that. Comes with the job.”

Your quiet snort brought a smile to his lips. Humour always worked, until it didn’t…

“I noticed,” you said. But then you shook your head and your hair shuffled under his chin, bringing with it a fresh wave of your sweet omega scent that went straight to his groin.

How was he supposed to keep this up? (Or down rather.)

“I just want to forget it happened. The sooner his mark fades, the better.”

Dean couldn’t agree more, and he used that statement as his opening. “Did it hurt? The first time, I mean.” It wasn’t a very good one.

“No. But I got lost in the moment,” you said, lifting yourself up onto your elbow to look at him. “Have you ever?”

“Me? I guess I didn’t make myself clear on the ‘me being dangerous’ part, huh?” Dean brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen. “Sam met his soulmate, too. But a demon killed her.”

You had spent little time with Sammy to form any connection, but Dean still recognised the empathy and fear that dampened your eyes. Guilt, no doubt, setting in his. Would what happened to Jess be the deal breaker?

“Since we lost her, we’ve both been on suppressants, so I’ve been able to avoid my ruts and the risk of claiming anyone.”

“So, no sex at all?”

“I’m not a saint. I still hooked-up.” And this was not where he wanted the conversation to go. The last thing you needed to hear was how promiscuous he’d been. “But I avoided anything substantial.”

Okay. That was worse.

“Did you ever—” Sleep around? Have casual partners before you met Dick? What was he thinking? “I mean, was Richie the only guy or—”

“Don’t worry, you’re off the hook.” You chuckled. “There were others, but only the one claim. Well, two…” Your head lowered and your fingers played with the old shirt he’d worn to bed.

“Did you ever try for pups?”

“We did,” you said. “But nothing stuck. Just another thing to be thankful for.”

As much as it hurt him to see you sad again, Dean couldn’t agree more. He hated the thought of anyone growing up in that environment.

Not that your apartment was anything less than the apple pie life he admired. Out of all the homes he’d visited, yours had been better than most, and if it weren’t for mixtures of Dick amongst it, Dean could have lived there himself given the opportunity.

Well, perhaps in a different location. Moving your things into this room would be ideal.

But the idea of a guy such as Dick being a dad? Someone that hit his mate out of jealousy...

His father may have been shitty, and maybe he didn’t treat Dean and Sam the best. Giving a gun to a six-year-old was the wrong thing to do in Dean’s eyes, even if he’d enjoyed it back then. Neither was growing up on the road the way they did. At least John Winchester never struck them until they were adolescents.

As for Dean, he wasn’t ideal either, but claiming you meant no more suppressants and that meant the risk you’d conceive. He wasn’t stupid.

Was he okay with his hypothetical pups living in the bunker if he claimed you on your next cycle and knocked you up as well? It would be the safest place for them, whether he was actively hunting or not. But would that be enough?

Wait. Was he really more worried about the safety of your potential rugrats than he was over actually bringing them into existence?

“Dean?”

“Mmm?” His throat couldn’t produce much more sound than that. A lump had garnered there, having realised and accepted that his inner alpha was besotted to make you all round and heavy with his pup. Stupid instincts.

“If that’s a deal breaker for you, I’d understand.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“I’m an omega. My body is supposed to grow pups, but I don’t think it can. And I dunno what you want, but—”

His hand cupped your chin and with a gentle nudge, encouraged you to raise your head back up so you could see that he meant what he said next. “You know how I keep telling ya I’m dangerous?”

You nodded.

“It’s ‘cause I’m worried things I’ve pissed off could hurt those I care about, including you.” His lips curled upward. His newfound want may have been squashed before it had even festered, but he wouldn’t let that add more to the burden you’d already placed on yourself. “No pups means less people for me to protect. That’s not a bad thing. And I will protect you, if you’ll be mine.”

Your eyes twinkled under a layer of tears.

While he still held questions about your heat and how long he had before he could claim you, right now, he needed to get lost in you and encourage you to do the same. Even if it stayed above the belt.

That was all peachy, in theory, but over the course of the following week, Dean was sure having a hard time keeping things, well, not hard.

His inner alpha yearned for you to be his. Hell, he wanted you, too. However, he was so adamant about not going all the way with you until your body had healed that he had turned himself into the poster boy for that typical kid in a candy store. Forever looking, never relieving the perpetual aching that had made a home between his legs.

Your scent, your warmth, your touch. Everything about you drove him crazy, and while he loved every second he got to spend with you, on the seventh day since your arrival in the bunker, he needed to get himself spent before he took you out for the evening as he’d planned. There was only so much a man could take, let alone an alpha, and he didn’t want his knot ruining the night.

So when he found himself a moment in the garage alone, he couldn’t help but take care of things.

His firm grip pumped his dick at a furious pace, willing his impending orgasm to bust out as quickly as possible.

The pants he breathed bounced off the cement pylons and steel scaffolding. As did skin slapping against skin and his belt buckle jangling in the air. When he gave one final satisfying thrust to blow his load into the oil-rag he had on the ready, your name was on the tip of his tongue. The memory of your nipples hardening beneath his thumb in his mind.

It was risky, jacking off the way he had. Against Baby’s rear bumper where anyone could catch him by walking up the central stairs, but that had also been the thrill. What little there was of it.

Sam rarely ventured down here and you, he presumed, were still being occupied with him, making it the perfect opportunity for Dean to deal with his preparations in peace.

He grinned as he scrunched the evidence into his fist and threw it in the trash. There was no point trying to wash the thing, and he wouldn’t attempt to explain where it had come from if he got caught adding it to the machine.

He had a job to do though, and with his cock still out while he waited for the base to deflate enough to tuck it back comfortably into his pants, he twisted himself around to make sure he had everything he needed in the trunk.

Cooler of beer, blankets. He’d pre-gamed himself. Check, check, and check. Dean was on his way to being a fucking gentleman. He just hoped you wouldn’t see right through him.

When he’d finished preparing, he washed his hands, tucked still not-so-little Dean away and walked the halls in search of you, as predicted finding you with Sam in the library with a screen in front of each of you.

The taller sasquatch form of his brother typed on his keyboard, while your smaller omega frame stared, clicking here and there on the trackpad of Dean’s laptop.

His initial reaction to your furrowed brow had him wondering if he should have triple checked his search history before lending the machine to you, but as he moved closer, he recognised that familiar twang of sadness in your scent. It wasn’t good news.

“Hey.” He hopped up the wooden steps and made the beeline for you. His fingers, following their instincts to comfort your latest grievance, whatever it was, magnetised to your exposed shoulders.

Though the dress you wore gave his hands easy access to your supple flesh and his eyes a feast from above, he was careful to avoid the patches of skin that were still healing. His brief session in the garage may not have been enough to get him through the night though.

“So. What did you find?” he said, his tone conveying a ‘hit me’ attitude.

“He drained my bank account.” You stifled a sigh, but with Dean being as close as he was and hovering over you, not only heard it, but he caught the split second movement when your chest heaved. “He even racked up my credit card. Sam hacked into the records.”

“Does it say what he bought?” Did that really matter?

“Gift cards,” Sam said. His scowl meeting Dean as if he were the culprit.

Fucking Dick. The guy was smarter than they’d given him credit for. This was exactly the kind of thing Dean and Sam used to do before Charlie set them up with their forever balanced bank accounts. If that made them assholes, then what did it make Dick?

“You think you can hook her up to what we have?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Your head twisted to Dean first, seeking an explanation, but when he refused with a shrug, you directed your confused expression to Sam, who had resumed tapping away at his keyboard.

While you were distracted by gaining Sam’s attention, Dean leaned down so that his nose touched the shell of your ear and whispered, “How long have I known ya?”

Nothing could dampen his mood, even discovering Dick was more of a dick than you all had realised. It would seem his preparations for a date night had come at the perfect time.

“Eight days?” Your voice was just as perplexed as the last glance you’d given him had been.

“And how long have we been cooped up in the bunker?” he further asked.

You frowned, giving off a ‘what the hell kind of question is that,’ vibe. “A week. What’re you—”

“Too long to not have taken you out already.” His arms stretched, but both sets of fingers remained on your shoulders as he stepped to the side and looked at you expectantly.

“But my eye.”

Yes. That had worsened again. Now brandishing a deep purple ring around the top of the lid and below it, appearing painted on. It was a sight to see, but so was Dean’s.

“And? I’ve got one too,” he said, releasing you to hold out his hand for you to take.

“Yeah. That makes it worse. People are going to talk if we’re out in public looking like this together.”

“So. Let ‘em.” He shrugged. Though Dean could understand the embarrassment. He didn’t exactly enjoy the idea of some random Joe Citizen taking one look at him and thinking he was the alpha who’d caused your injuries. Especially when he had his own. “Besides, I’ve thought of that,” he said, and pulled you up himself.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Really?” you asked.

“Really,” he said, before shooting a look behind him. “Don’t wait up, Sammy!” he then chirped as his arm wrapped around your waist, escorting you past the ornamental blades and giant telescope thingy, through to the door in the back of the library.

He knew you were still waiting on any explanation, given you focused on him over the path he led you on, but he enjoyed humouring you. The element of a good surprise, emphasis on the good, was so few and far between in his life.

“Where we’re going is for me to know and you to find out, but I’ll let you choose the cuisine,” he said, decking his smirk with a wag of his brows. “Burgers or pizza?” That last part he trilled.

Whatever you chose was neither a win, nor a loss, but he’d judge you on what flavour or kind you selected. No soulmate of Dean Winchester would ever eat a plant-based burger - in his presence. They’d also never opt for pineapple on their pizza, he hoped.

Okay. These things weren’t exactly deal breakers. At least, not up there with the chance of your death at the hands of a demon extracting their revenge on him. Or you, with whatever drama you’d endured unsuccessfully making your ex-mate a baby-daddy.

There were shortcomings and insecurities-a-plenty. It was just lucky your choice in pizza toppings was enough in his eyes to make up for them. What could he say? He was simple, and it was the simple things in life, like pepperoni and cheese, that kiss and all the other sweet moments he’d shared with you.

He couldn’t be happier, though he sensed your mood was waning. Damn Dick and his thieving ass. The asswipe had ruined the scene Dean had been going for.

He had chosen the perfect spot. Somewhere secluded. In a small clearing, about twenty minutes away from the bunker, and his brother. With plenty of tree cover and soft ground to place the blankets down.

Baby’s low beams cast light over the setup, shining through the beer bottles and capturing the stray wisps of hair that fell around your face.

You were perfect. In fact, this whole situation was still perfect, and Dick had ruined nothing. Even the breeze nipping at Dean’s chin was a blessing in disguise.

He slid the empty pizza box out of the way so he could pull you into the space between his thighs. Flinging your legs over his thick one and bringing your rear right up against his crotch.

For now, his balls were alright with it. His inner alpha didn’t mind, either. It had the perfect view of Dick’s claim, and all it wanted to do was, well, that was better left unsaid. Using his teeth on your healing skin wasn’t quite what you needed at that moment.

He’d be wrong. Sort of.

“You okay?” his low voice rumbled from his torso to yours.

“Yeah.”

You may have nodded, but he caught the purse of your lips as they forced a smile. He had become more and more attuned to your sensitivities with each passing day, but even Sam or any other human, alpha, omega or beta could tell you weren’t being truthful.

“Omega?” he pressed further.

But you shook your head and moved your hand to brush over Dean’s initials, peeking out below your loose neckline. It was a distraction for sure. The ruffling of the pretty fabric wasn’t helping when it fanned your scent up to his nostrils.

He brought his hand down to cover yours. His long fingers spread out, touching the very edge of your mating gland and the fading puncture marks from dickwad’s jaw. It caused your breath to hitch and a faint shockwave to travel up his arm to the same patch of skin on his body.

That…was…interesting.

You must’ve thought so too if your scent was anything to go by. There was a definite spike in the almost constant state of arousal that followed you.

“Does that feel good?” It wasn’t like he hadn’t touched you there already. He had done so when cleaning your injuries in the motel. Right?

Well, no. His fingers had come close, but he’d been so meticulous about not adding any foreign material to your open wounds that only the fabric he used to clean them had pressed against your skin.

Earlier in the library, it had been the same. But now your chortle and a flash of a broader smile met his gaze, and he was damn confused.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s just stronger than I was expecting.”

“What is?”

“Our bond.” Your eyes lit up. “You haven’t claimed me, but it’s starting.”

What was starting exactly? Dean knew the logistics of claiming. He had to bite your mating gland when he came inside of you, but until that happened, he didn’t see how any bond could start. Yet here you were excited. And so was his inner alpha.

It clawed away at him again, scolding through snarls and odd commands like, ‘Scent her,’ ‘Kiss her on his mark,’ and all Dean could think was, ‘Seriously?’ because that was the last thing he’d ever thought of doing.

Not that he felt repulsed by you there. He just didn’t want to touch you anywhere near it until it healed completely and all traces of Dick were gone.

But what if the annoying beast in his head had a point?

“Fuck it,” he mumbled, greeting your questioning look with a smirk that made blue steel drop its panties. If the touch of his fingertips on that part of you had excited you the way he thought it had, he was going in for more.

“Dean?”

He swooped down to drag his lips over the faded bite, pulling them together to plant a not so chaste kiss there. Your mewl went straight to his cock, and while it was so damn worth it, his resolve was screwed.

The smell of your arousal only grew stronger, flooding his nostrils and mind with all things good and not so proper.

Would you protest if he moved lower to take your tit in his mouth?

Shit. Nope, nope. Abort, abort. Fucking abort. He needed to focus on the task at hand and think of something less lewd. It was a shame his libido didn’t get the message, because it asked, “When’s your next heat due again?” which, yeah, wasn’t what Dean had in mind. Not even close.

“It’s usually at the start of the season.”

“So we have another month? That about right?” he said between kisses and nips.

“Mm-hmm.”

Dean snickered into your neck at your sudden lack of coherency. He may have taken care of himself, not that it was apparent with the bulge forming in his pants, but as far as he was aware, you hadn’t done the same, and it was no wonder you were putty in his hands. “Don’t think I can wait that long to have you,” he drawled.

“You could have me now?”

He groaned and leaned back up to meet your eyes. “You’re not healed yet.” He’d seen the wince you’d made over one particularly rough speed hump. Dean had winced too - Baby’s rims had packed a beating - but that was before he noticed your discomfort.

God. If only he could have you. It was no longer a want to sink his knot into you. He needed to. But that stupid mother-fucking ‘but’ he had put on himself wouldn’t allow it, even as your thighs rolled against each other to seek friction.

“It’s fine, Dean.” You brought your hands up to splay over his firm chest, twisting and shuffling your body to face him better. “I told you I’m not fragile.” Your fingers headed straight for his right pectoral muscle and placing of your initials over his tattoo.

“I wasn’t doing over five when I hit that bump.”

“That was one time,” you scoffed.

“Yeah, but that ride was gentle. I might not be.” Dean raised his brows and flashed a feral smirk. “You want my knot that badly ‘mega?”

“It’s not just me.”

You had him there, more so when your hand dipped between you. Your fingers were inches from the defined outline on his leg when he caught them.

His dick twitched in protest, but he still pulled your arm away and wrapped it around his lower back instead, entangling his own with it. His grin widened at his antics, but then you melted into him and his cheeks burned at the stretch. He would definitely get used to this.

“Guess not,” he said. “But you ain’t getting in my pants tonight. ‘Specially not here.”

Frustration seeped out of your pores and Dean felt a pang of guilt.

It sounded cheesy for his liking, but this clearing was the last place he wanted your first time with him to be. He’d sooner fuck you in a sleazy motel with thin walls than on the lumpy ground you sat on where someone could come by.

Out here was better suited for a quick romp. With clothes on and prior knowledge of your body and how it ticked.

Here the air was cool and he could only imagine what it might do to an exposed breast or pair of opened legs. The shiver you’d give as it tickled your sensitive parts would be a sight to see.

While that was tempting, he needed to know you were somewhere comfy and warm when things got down to business, so for now, “Would you settle for my fingers, sweetheart?” he asked

That caught your attention, and he took your whimper as a yes.

His hand dipped down to slide along your thigh, caressing every portion of silky smooth skin as he moved closer to your core.

The way you opened up for him and the soft breaths you blew into his ear had him in his zone. But that warmth and wetness, when he slipped two fingers under one elastic waistband, had his cock screaming for attention at the same time. He couldn’t win.

“D…Alpha.”

It was exactly what he’d wanted to hear in the shower that night.

“Yeah?” he said with confidence against your neck.

His tongue swirled patterns over your mating gland and mimicked the movements of his padded thumb below. “You let me know if it gets too much, alright?” he warned, before his middle finger slid through your folds and into your slicked up entrance.

The come hither was slow for both your benefits. His motions contained as he familiarised himself with the right spot on luck alone. A mental note already in place for when he sealed the deal.

To his relief, you moaned. His deep alpha growl nipped at your throat in response as kisses and scent left a trail in their wake.

Screw Dick and any other. You were his. Dean would be yours. It was only a matter of time before he made his claim, marking you as such, and he couldn’t fucking wait.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Mm-hmm. I know I talked with someone about blue balls. Though when I read back over this myself, I’m trying to look past how quickly she trusts him and put it all down to, but they’re soulmates and it’s that getting to know you stage, rampant because it’s the omegaverse…

Things are heating up in here. I hope that didn’t disappoint. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover in this story - silly me lets her ideas get away with her (this started as a 9 chapter plan)… The first half covers dealing with the after affects of Dick and these two lovebirds learning and growing together. Just don’t get too comfortable with the fluff. Hints for the second half are littered throughout and in the tags

Chapter 5: Languishing 21/03

“Omega,” he rumbled into your ear.

“Alpha,” you purred back. Your smile, demure and telling, practically screamed at him to, ‘check this out,’ and boy did he.

Your core was so close, yet sheathed between your clothing and his, and when your eyes looked upon him, twinkling even in the dim lighting of the bunker’s night mode, his cock twitched in approval. He could get used to this kind of welcome.

“I missed you,” you said, before adding, “guys,” to the end when you noticed Sam watching you with interest.

To Dean’s disappointment, your legs unhooked themselves, and he set you on the floor again. Losing your weight made not only his arms empty, but his heart as well. His inner alpha growling in discontentment at the way you halted your affections around Sammy’s presence. Worse still, when you gave him a hug, too.

Oh yes - next chapter is their first time!

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[leyavo]

| Dum spiro, spero | 1

- “while I breathe, I hope”

Summary: You can’t quite seem to adapt to life after a failed op and being tortured. Demoted sergeant to archives assistant, you're slowly becoming a recluse, but years later Ghost offers you a way out.

| Beta!reader x Beta!Ghost | Hurt/angst/comfort/mentions of torture. Featuring Alpha!Price 2115words [Masterlist]

Fate, you hated the word. Every fibre of your being ripped to shreds in the name of the moon. Divinely guided by some goddess watching over you. You’d long stopped talking to the night sky and in general.

You’re lucky to be breathing. The same words thrown your way, without a single thought. The more you heard it, the more it sounded like a threat. No wonder you were always snapping.

Eight years had passed since that failed op. Since you’d lost all sense of self. No you’d come back in someone else’s flesh. Might as well have had another person’s fur. And the years to follow made you feel like a human. You just didn’t expect your pack to treat you like one either.

Most of your days were spent in the dingy archival basement, sorting through paper files for other task forces missions and putting them back on the shelf. In the darkest depths of the archives, keeping you away from everyone else. You liked it that way.

You smelt him before you heard the weight of his steps. The one thing that remained strong, your sense of smell and you relied on it more than you liked. The last scrap of your wolf holding on, you’d been stripped of everything else by your Alpha. No shifting, claws ripped out and left to mirror a human’s hand. You tried to grow your nails, but they were never quite sharp enough. No you mourned the claws, how they used to slice through flesh like a blade and screech against the floor.

This scent, however did not overpower and cloud your senses. No, these were subtle. Hints of tobacco, a musk you couldn’t identify as if he had a signature aroma or a blend with another. Not a lone wolf, but one that had pack.

Definitely alpha though, you could feel the blood writhing beneath your flesh. That little voice in your mind whispering for you to obey, the pressure making you bow your head as he rounded the corner. It didn’t matter how much you tried to fight it, alpha’s got what they wanted in the end.

Your gaze trails after the worn brown boots, kicking the rolling dust along the linoleum flooring as he walked closer.

“Nona.” - your call-sign, the ninth beta to join your task force. Most new recruits were given a number and earned their next one. You were never given another.

You don’t remember much of your life before enlisting in the military, the name you were born with felt more foreign than the number they gave you in the task force. Memory worse since the torture, flickers of the traumatic experience the only thing that wandered back into your mind.

“Would you prefer I call you something else?” His voice soft, you barely register the low tone that rumbles from his chest. Of course, he can smell the pungent bitterness burning the back of your throat.

You blink, vision sharp and clear as you rake your eyes up his thick thighs, gun strapped to his left hip and tactical vest covering his chest. Like he’s just walked here from an op, his fingers are curled around the vest in front of his broad shoulders. A well trimmed beard lines his jaw, moustache framing his lips and chin.

Captain John Price, Alpha of the 141. He doesn’t need to introduce to himself. Each of his team just as legendary as he himself. No one turned down an offer from him. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't noticed them around base. They were hard to miss, commanding any room they entered.

“Nona’s fine, Alpha,” you say, voice gravelly and strained as you try the swallow the lump at the back of your throat. Your fingers twitch by your side, but you fight the urge to rub the heat spreading across your neck. That’s like revealing a weakness to a predator.

His gaze flits to your hand though. Nothing gets past him, no he see's right through you.

“You used to work with frequencies,” he pauses, as if waiting for you to reply, so you nod. “Rare for our kind, recon you could help my task force as a technician?”

Another thing that you were ridiculed for growing up, your lack of hearing. Well for a werewolf, it wasn’t great…human some would say. So you could handle the frequencies used against your own kind. Sometimes you’d even crank it up in the armoury to piss off your team mates when they pushed you too far. Just a little for it to give them a headache, but not enough for them to realise it was a frequency by the sound.

“Join my pack, bond with one of my beta’s and you might just get to see the sun.”

Bond, not mate. You didn’t miss the way he phrased it. You wonder if he's read your file, even the redacted parts.

Part of you wasn't sure if you were ready to face the light, used to blending into the darkness and merging with the silence. Today was the first time in weeks you'd spoken out loud, you didn't even speak to your own alpha. Something he preferred.

“I’ll be back in the morning, so think it over.”

⫘⫘⫘-⫘⫘⫘

The morning couldn’t come quick enough, Ghost had spent the whole night dragging his desk and other items out of his office into his connected bedroom. Perks of being a lieutenant, a decent sized room, en-suite and an office.

He had to remind himself he wouldn’t be mating, but bonding with you. A whole different kind of relationship. There’s no way he’d make you share a room with him, let alone a bed. So he made the small office into a separate room for you.

A single bed pushed up against the wall and a compact chest of drawers squeezed beside it. Not much space, but least it’d be your own. He didn’t bother with sheets or pillows, knowing that you’d bring your own to keep the comforting scent.

Ghost was yet to meet you, heard about you though. Seen your teeth marks in your alpha’s neck. He didn’t pay much attention to the murmurs surrounding your throat or the scars carved into your flesh.

No, he couldn’t help but stare as you walked into his bedroom. The puckered skin lining the column of your neck, the most vulnerable part of a wolf. A curved line marred your right cheek and disappeared behind your right, torn earlobe.

You held his stare though, lifting your chin as if showing him the full extent of your scars. Not that it was anything to be ashamed of.

He’s read your medical reports, knows your vocal cords were damaged beyond repair. How it hurts to speak above a whisper that you don’t bother most of the time. Read the reoccurring dream analysis of you choking on your own blood, Ghost notes to check on you later.

Tucked under your arm is a lumpy pillow, your fingers grasping the fabric as if it’d going to slip through them. Your thin blanket balled up and secured between your upper arm and side of your ribs.

Price hands your duffle to Ghost, small canvas bag covered in mismatched patches. The same one they give you in the training centre, his didn’t last this long. You’re a few years younger than him, thirty three. He’s a head taller than you, but you don’t shrink in his shadow. No you straighten your back and keep his levelled gaze.

Your belongings are plucked from you, Price setting them on the desk now in Ghost’s room. He bids you goodbye, not looking back as he closes the door behind him.

Beta to beta bonds weren’t encouraged, they were seen as unprofessional and lacking discipline or true leadership. The fight to see who would be more dominate, a ninety eight percent fail most of the time. A reason why packs were more efficient.

Could Ghost and you be that two percent? “I like me chances,” he says thinking out loud, you frown at his words.

Ghost grasps your chin in his gloved hand, your lip curling and teeth baring. His gaze lingers on your shaved canines, some sort of punishment for biting your previous Alpha. No bite, a way to weaken you and strip you of a basic need or instinct. Defenceless to those above you.

Still he wonders if your teeth would sink into his neck.

He leans down, his nose trailing your collar bone. Pausing as you hold your breath, waiting for you exhale before he nudges your mating gland. Or the lack of it…the jagged scar making it both difficult to find and scent it. No warmth or reassurance could be transferred to help regulate your emotions. Nothing Ghost could do to help you during your heat.

There’s a subtle hint of jasmine, the kind that blooms at night. He wonders if it’s stronger in the evening.

Ghost doesn’t miss the quiver of your throat as he pulls back, only natural for you to seek out another wolf even if you’re trying to suppress that need. You know that you have to self soothe, no other capable of doing so since your torture.

“I ain’t going to bite ya’. I’m a wolf not an animal.” Again he’s read your folder, seen the experiments your alpha put you through, trying to force a mating connection. How many others bit the scar covering your mating gland?

Bonding, not mating.

None could quite sink their teeth deep enough to mate with you. So they hid you away and neglected you.

“Can’t promise the same,” you whisper, tongue tracing your shaved canine. He knows it’s a thinly veiled threat and not a flirtatious line, but his stomach flips.

Ghost knows it’s his turn to let you scent him, to get acquainted to him and his natural musk. He sits on the edge of his bed, angling his head to the side to show more skin. To allow you more space to shove your face into the crook of his neck.

You don’t move though, blinking down at him. Have you not scented anyone before? Ah, he forgot, your previous pack doesn’t let their females scent the males. Old tradition where the female gives up their own and take on the males, so they smell the same. A good way to deter unmated wolves too.

He tugs you onto his lap, one arm wrapping around your waist, his fingers digging into the muscle of your hip. His other hand snaking up your back and grasping the nape of your neck, like a pup.

A low guttural whine slips from your parted lips, palms resting on his chest as you tried to stop him pushing your face to his collarbone. Your cold nose bumping against the heated spot, muscle flexing at your touch.

“Need to do it, Nona. Otherwise you’re going to go mad,” he says, his thumb brushing the scar covering your mating gland. It won’t soothe you, distract you maybe though.

You grunt, body slumping against his as you lean into the scent. Ghost’s hand fell from your neck, fingers gliding up and down your spine, chasing the tension away.

If he didn’t do this now, you’d be overwhelmed by his presence. That wouldn’t be fair to you or him. He wanted you to be comfortable, free to move around his space as if it were your own because it was now.

Ghost doesn’t know how long your nose had been buried into his neck, but he ain’t complaining. The tingles surging through his shoulder melts away the ache of his sore muscle. Your touch like magic, without even knowing it. He wonders if he’s a grounding anchor for you too.

Scenting normally took at least three hours, sometimes more but that meant staying close and doing tasks together for most of the day. Not holding each other for as long as you have.

He doesn’t know how you pushed him to lay back on the bed, your nose still nudging his neck. Your eyes closed, one arm under his neck and other arm draped over his chest. His legs tangled with yours, he doesn’t complain about the weight your body on his.

Ghost remembers the first time he scented with someone else, knows from experience how touch starved you are. Something as simple as a scent and the warmth of his skin making you stay.

And when he hears the change in your breathing, he waits a couple hours till he knows you’re in a deep sleep before carrying you to your bed.

⫘⫘⫘-⫘⫘⫘

Something's that been in my draft for ages. Might be some errors/mistakes as I am dyslexic. I do check my work multiple times, but still miss things - Leya

[bowiesimms]

the honda odyssey scene but you’re a spideyperson:

(i know everyone has basically done their own take on this scene but this was sm fun to write. also wade is hard to write in character i apologise...fem reader based! very self indulgent. nsfwish at the end. also red colour for wades speech and its yellow for logans lol)

you’re sat in the back of the car, wade and logan up front, not paying attention to anything they’re saying - kinda over the will they/wont they tension they got going on.

playing with your hair or just staring out the window and suddenly the car comes to a complete halt. they both look at each other before looking at you in the back. 

 “what…..?” “spidey, sugarbear, why don't you go for a little walk, hm?” “what’s going on-” “just get out of the car, bub” “oh- okay…” serious side eye from you

not even two seconds after shutting the car door, logan pounces on wade and the car gets to rocking and not in the way you’d want it. but you just let them be for a good while.

its been almost an hour at this point of just straight fighting and you can see blood everywhere and each window is smashed, and you’re just hanging upside down from a tree branch, feeling bored. you’ve had enough.

swinging to the top of the honda, there's a huge hole on the roof from wade being thrown through it. all the seats are flattened, seatbelts have long gone and it's just blood everywhere. the two of them just basically killing each other and other in the back seat (or where it used to be).

andddd your moment comes when wade manages to throw logan through the back of the car, watching as he gets back on his feet and begins charging towards the car. being the hero you are, you swoop in and just before logan gets into the car, you’ve flipped yourself off of it and webbed him to the back of it and it takes a good few webshots to get his hands/claws webbed tight to the back of the car. “what the fuck-what the fuck are you doing?”

“sorry logan” and you are sorry but this is the only way this blood bath will end. swinging back to the top of the car, you look through the giant hole in the roof, “spideypookie! you came to my rescue, i mean i had it covered but hey! Its so lovely to see you” landing in the car, literally on his lap, you web both his hands down to the seat in an instant. “oh god, i’ve dreamed about this so so many times, you dont understand im so wet right no-” “i will web your mouth shut if you dont stop” “oh and you say that too! And then it leads to us fighting around for a bit, getting hot and bothered-”

feeling your senses tingle in the back of your neck you realise logans somehow broken free, throwing yourself in the front of the car logan crashes in through one of the backdoor windows. he doesn’t want to fight you. “get out of the car” his chest is heavily breathily as he stares you down, sweat beading on his forehead, “get out the car, y/n”

and your senses tingle again as you realise wade still has his legs free, and within seconds you’ve webbed his feet down but logan’s already gone in for the kill on him, webbing logan’s hands, again, to the seats. and in the small cramped-ness of the car, you fling yourself at him, now on his lap. “fuck!” “fuck!” they say  in unison.

you’ve got them both webbed to the back seat. all of wades limbs webbed to the seat, legs spread wide a little. whilst you’re currently straddling logan who’s left arm is webbed to the seat as well. everyone in the car is breathing heavy.

they’re both staring at you, covered in their wounds. wade’s suit is ripped in a lot of places and his baby knife is lodged into logans arm, currently webbed. 

a silence falls in the car, everyone's catching their breaths and also no one knows really what to say. well wade does, “this is really hot” both you and logan turn your heads slowly, it's almost comical, and look at him, “seriously, look im so hard right now”

reluctantly you look down. boom. yep. yeah he is, he’s not lying.

“gods sake, seriously?!” “you’re so fucking disgusting” both you and logan are grimacing looking away. “my fanfiction is quite literally coming true in this very moment, i can’t help it. i mean spider-girl? woman? did we ever decide on a name-”

“shut up!” somewhere in the back of logans mind, somewhere deep inside of him is enjoying this. perhaps its the lack of physical contact - that wasn’t punching or stabbing - and the fact you are sat on him and have been for a few minutes now. 

logans hand has broken free from your web - again - but he doesn’t actually go to throw himself at wade. as, to be fair, wade cannot actually move. he’s just wiggling around trying to get out the webs (or wiggling for other reasons...hm).

you’ve taken off your mask now, feeling a bit overstimulated and warm. oh yeah! you should probably get off of logans lap now. HOWEVER, logan has other ideas. his hand goes to your lower back stopping you from moving, and you look up, meeting his eyes. oh! ohhhh.

his hand goes to the lower of your cheek, his fingers in your hair. and wade has been silent for too long now its weird, he’s just watching you guys. sliding yourself more onto logans lap - he’s smug now. he’s got want wade wants. 

“you two are so incredibly cruel but lucky for you guys i'm into this cuck business, but i would like somebody to touch me. please - wolvie? spideybabe? oh you guys are really going at it. you guys are KILLING me this isn’t fair-”

riding wolverine in the back of a horrifically beaten up honda odyssey whilst deadpool watches, hands webbed up was not what you were imagining was going to happen when you got invited to this universe saving shit. but hey ho.

[wriothesleybear]

Based off of this magnificent fanart

~warnings: a lot of fluff and romance, a bit suggestive in Wrio’s part, fem!reader. Word count: 1.6k

~a/n: I couldn’t get over the fanart of Wrio and Diluc as firefighters and I just had to write about it. It’s my first time writing for Diluc so I hope it’s ok. This is also in honor of getting a body pillow of him. It’s so beautiful and I sleep much better with it.

Firefighter!Wrio who you met when he rescued your cat from a tree. You couldn’t help but swoon from the image of this large, buff, muscled man holding a little kitten in his arms. You thank him and he can’t help but think about how beautiful you are. He was about to ask you for his number when he got called for another emergency. You meet him again when your cat gets stuck in a tree again. He feels slightly guilty for being thankful that your cat got stuck again so you two could meet again. After he hands you your cat back, he smiles down at you and asks you for your number. You blush and give it to him.

Firefighter!Wrio who is the type of boyfriend to tease and flirt with you. He has a playful and chill attitude outside of work compared to his focused and serious attitude at work. He likes to carry you a lot, either bridal style or throws you over his shoulder to get you into a giggling mood. It always cheers you up when you’re feeling down. Loves tickle fights. He will actually chase you around the house until he catches you, dragging you to the couch so you two can snuggle. Once he’s got you in a cuddle hold, there’s no getting up for a while.

Firefighter!Wrio who loves kisses and make out sessions. While you’re busy doing something, he’ll wrap his arms around you and pepper kisses down your neck until you decide to drop what you’re doing and give him your full attention. He enjoys when your fingers slide down his body, nails lightly scratching his skin as you admire his build and muscles. He really likes it when you pepper kisses on his scars.

Firefighter!Wrio who is a mixture of a golden retriever boyfriend and scary dog boyfriend. The golden retriever portion is due to him doing anything for you and being needy for affection. He’s always touching you in some way and follows you around the house like a puppy. The scary dog boyfriend is due to him looking scary to those who don’t know him. The piercing, scars, and large build sort of intimidate other guys from approaching you or bothering you. Little do they know, he’s just a golden retriever boyfriend who wants affection and cuddles. He is very protective as well.

Firefighter!Wrio who is great with kids and animals. He lets kids decorate his items with stickers because he can’t say no to them. If it makes them happy and smile, then who is he to take that away from them, he’ll deal with the onslaught of stickers. He sometimes thinks about what it would be like if it was your kids that were covering his things with stickers.

Firefighter!Wrio who loves to lay on your chest while your fingers rake through his hair. It helps him sleep better after a long stressful day. He acts a bit off when he’s had a hard day. He doesn’t really like to talk about the bad work days because he doesn’t want to spread the negativity to you but you can tell when he’s had a bad one. You don’t try to push him to talk if he doesn’t want to so you just open your arms for him and hold him. He can feel the weight lift off his shoulders when you hold him. It lets him know that it’ll be okay and that you’re always there for him even when you don't verbally say it or not.

Firefighter!Wrio who exercises on his free time. You love watching him work out and he likes your attention on him. Your eyes focus on his muscles as they flex when he does pull ups. Droplets of sweat slide down his sweat slicked skin, causing his skin to glisten in the lighting. While lost in your daze, you’re snapped out of it when he leans down in front of you, a hand positioned on each side of you on the bench, and he makes a flirty comment like “Darling, you’re drooling a bit. Am I really that mesmerizing?” as he gives you his signature teasing smirk. He’ll then offer you to join him in the shower. It turns out to be a very long shower that involved more than just washing each other’s body.

Firefighter!Diluc who you met when he saved you from a small kitchen fire. You were trying to bake something and it didn’t work out, therefore, it ended up in a fire. You felt so bad and embarrassed but he just reassured you that these happen a lot so it’s no big deal. He looks at the burnt pastries and points out that you accidentally put the temp up too high for too long causing the fire to occur. He sees the shameful look on your face and gives you a gentle look and some reassuring words on not to give up on baking. You smile and thank him and he swears his heart skips a beat at your beautiful smile. He’s unable to think about it further as he’s called away for another emergency.

Firefighter!Diluc whose heart skips a beat again when you show up at his firehouse later that week, gifting him some pastries you made as a thank you. You joke and say that they should taste better than the burnt ones you made last time. He covers his face to hide the slight blush that begins to cover his cheeks as he accepts your gift. You two exchange numbers as friends until it develops into something more.

Firefighter!Diluc is the slowburn type. You two start off as friends first, hanging out and all that until romantic feelings begin to blossom between the two of you as you get to know each other more. When he's sure you feel the same, he gathers the courage to ask you out on a date. He gives a small smile when you say yes. His shoulders relax and his heart is racing a bit more when he finally hears that you feel the same.

Firefighter!Diluc who is the protective type of boyfriend that spoils his s/o. He loves spending time with you doing mundane things. Cooking, having movie night, reading together, shopping, etc. You two could be doing the most boring activity and he’d still enjoy it because all he cares about is being with you.

Firefighter!Diluc who is a great cook and enjoys cooking/baking with you. He gives cooking advice and hugs you from behind while you cook. He says it's easier for him to help and supervise what you’re doing this way, but in reality, he just wants to be close to you as much as he can. He’s more than happy to taste test your cooking creations. (Plus he helps to make sure you don’t accidentally start another fire again). He thinks your concentration face is adorable.

Firefighter!Diluc who gives you a passionate kiss before he leaves for work. Neither of you ever know what could happen so he wants to make sure that you know how he feels about you in case it’s the last time you see him. He keeps pictures of you and him together in his work locker. It comforts him when he misses you and gives him the courage and strength to make sure he comes back home to you.

Firefighter!Diluc is the type to not discuss his work at home as well. He wouldn’t want to burden you with stress and worries. When he’s had a bad day, he’s pretty good at hiding it, but you’ve learned to read his cues that show he’s not doing too well mentally. You immediately drop everything and guide him over to the couch where you let him bury his head in your neck as you hold each other close. His hold is tight around you, but not constricting. You give him words of comfort while rubbing his back and playing with his long, beautiful red hair. He basks in your affection and comforting touches, inhaling your scent which helps calm him down as he nuzzles into your neck.

Firefighter!Diluc who lets you play with his hair. You have a blast trying multiple different hairstyles on him while he relishes in the feeling of your gentle touch on his hair. After a long day, when you two take a relaxing bath, he appreciates it when you take the time to wash his hair. It’s a rewarding massage that helps him relax and feel sleepy. He swears you have magical hands by the effect you have on him. All you have to do is touch a part of his body and he melts into your touch.

Firefighter!Diluc who loves holding hands with you. The feel of his warm, calloused hands compared to your gentle, soft ones. Your touch is like heaven to him. He prefers leaving kisses on your hands the most. Please cup his face. He’ll absolutely melt right then and there and give you anything you want. He also likes resting your foreheads together. He wraps his strong arms around your waist, holding you close as you cup his cheeks, leaning your forehead against one another and gaze into each other’s eyes. He thinks it’s the most intimate and romantic thing you two do.

[casuallyanidiot]

Moon Waltz [Yandere M. x Gn. Reader]

Made this around a year ago for a Halloween writers collab on Quotev

There are a lot of amazing one shots from authors there, and there's another collab being planned for 2024 if y'all would like to check this out. The theme was Childhood stories, and I chose to base my entry on the theme of music boxes.

On Halloween night, you fall into a strange world and with an even stranger man inside of it. He says he can bring you home by the next full moon, but things start to become odd when you find yourself becoming part of the world too...

Tw. For confinement, blood, manipulation, long post

26k words

Music boxes had fascinated you as a child, specifically the more detailed ones. The kind that had pretty little porcelain figurines on top and flowers painted onto the sides were your favorite. There was something about the looping melody, the softness of the whole the, and the spinning little people living out their lives in complete bliss. You loved it, and often you would imagine yourself carrying out the rest of your life just like that. In hazy daydreams and bouts of pretend, you could pretend that you too were made of glass and covered in delicate gold foil, twirling to a lovely tune.

Of course, as a kid, your parents didn’t really trust you with actually owning any of these admittedly very breakable objects. In fact, after being caught playing with any music boxes in your house a few times too many, your parents had decided to pack them all up in places you’d probably never be able to find them. The ballerinas, fairies, and princes were all packed up in layers of Styrofoam and plastic, sealed away in some closet that your younger self was always too afraid to peek into for some reason. 

Still, you loved the music boxes, and you begged your parents to let you hear them, let you look at them and imagine, to create stories and lives with a simple set of notes and fine china. So, from then on, any time you did good in school or for any other sort of special occasion, your parents took one out for you and set it onto the coffee table. You would sit there, a ball of energy and nerves, patiently as a child could as your mother wound up the music box as far as it could possibly go and place it down. She’d walk out of the room, just within earshot in case you decided to be a bit too rough with it and leave you to your own devices.

You have fuzzy memories of those moments. The sun would be fighting through the cheap curtains, making the room all hot and humid. But the light was pretty, and from where you pressed your little face onto the table, you could see the specs of dust floating around in the air, taking the center stage under the spotlight of sunbeam. And while you dreamed of dancing with porcelain figures, the soft plinks of the music would thrum out. With each note, you could feel the table slightly vibrate, and you along with it. After rewinding it countless times, one of your cheeks would tingle by the time your mom came back to fetch it.

And she would rewrap your little ornate world back up, and place it back until the next time you did something that warranted such a moment of unbridled peace.

It had been years since you were that easily satisfied, though. Now, you were more interested in other things, things that a college aged student you ought to be concerned with. Namely, the bonfire that was going to be held tonight by the lake.

The October air was chilly to say the least, and you watched from the window with mild interest as a few brightly colored leaves were swept up into the dimming eve. You weren’t really trying to take in the scenery of twilight tonight, it just kind of happened to be that you were so bored out of your mind that you had started picking up on the little things again. In all actuality, you had been keeping an eye out for any trick or treaters still roaming about. There had been a steady stream of kids skipping down your street to pound on your door, but they had all seemingly disappeared as soon as the sun even began to set.

When you were a kid, did you ever head in that early? You could have sworn that you had stayed out at least past this point in the evening, but your mom had always made it a point to hand you a flashlight and trail close behind while you ran around, so it wasn’t like you really had that much freedom back then. If you had gone out by yourself, you would have imagined her demanding you back less than an hour after you’d go out.

But anyways, there hadn’t been any kids in a while which was good since the little pathetic candy bowl you had was pretty much dried up. When your parents left the previous day, they had pointed out the two bags worth if treats that they had bought in preparation for all the trick or treaters, but you just had to guess that either they were largely underestimating how many people came up to your surprisingly secluded house at the end of the road, or they had been skimping out on these poor children.

You shook the plastic bowl, bright orange with a jack-o'-lantern style face by the way, and stepped away from the window. Guess there wasn’t much left to do tonight. The house was tidy, most of the candy was gone, and it was late enough where you could call it quits and turn on some cheesy movie to pass the rest of night in peace before you went to bed. Pretty uneventful, but hey, you had done what your parents had asked of you. You flipped off your porchlight, the universal signal to any would be trick or treaters that you would be handing out nothing, and slumped down onto the old, plush couch set up in front of the T.V.

You sighed as you lazily flipped through some channels and streaming apps, before settling on some low energy movie and snuggling into the mediocrity of the cushions. 

If it sounds like you weren’t having a pleasant time, it would be, well because it was the simple, honest and sucky truth. To put it plainly, you had been a bit of a loser in high school. Not very many friends, not the best grades, and hardly any joyous memory for your youth either. It sucked, but you managed to get into a local community college. It was there that, for the first time in what felt like forever, you had started having a social life. We’re talking classmates inviting you out to lunch, going on spontaneous car rides with people for no reason other than to hang out, goofing off in convenience stores, and finally getting decent grades once again. It had been so long since you had felt this accepted, this welcomed by people your age. 

It was wonderful, to be honest. All that time in high school you spent imagining yourself in better scenarios, ignoring your hurt, and convincing yourself that you were fine with the solitude that being a bit of a social outcast brought you had made you miss truly feeling like you belonged. You didn’t know when you had stopped feeling like that in the first place, but now that it was back, you didn’t want to do anything that would risk this new life you had been building up recently. 

So far, everything had been going pretty smoothly, and even your rather protective parents seemed to recognize how badly you needed this, how much happier you had been since you actually started making friends. And even though you were technically a grown adult, they gave you their permission to go out as much as you wanted. It had changed your relationship with them slightly, too. No longer was it you asking them to allow you to go out, but simply stating where you were going to be and a rough estimate of how long you'd be gone. The only thing they had requested of you was that you turn on your location so that they could see where you had been or where you were. For safety of course.

So, when your friend who you had been gradually growing closer with had invited you out to an annual university bonfire by the lake, that was right by your house mind you, you were ecstatic. This was your first real party! Sure there would probably be some alcohol there, but there would also be a large amount of people attending as well. It was an event that was widely known among the youth of your area, and it had been held many years prior to this one. Everyone knew about it. It was safe, and it was an opportunity for you to enjoy Halloween with your new social circle. You were excited, to say the least.

And then… your parents said absolutely not. The “My house my Rules” rhetoric was strong throughout their refusal, and you had to admit a bit of defeat there. After all, they let you live in your childhood home after high school rent free. Seeing as they had already booked a small trip out of town for the day of and week after Halloween, they didn’t want you going out without anyone to look out for you. Not wanting to argue any further, you grit your teeth and accepted the verdict.

But now, on your couch, you scrolled through your phone and all the messages expressing disappointment but understanding that you couldn’t attend, a new determination grew within you. You were grateful that your parents were so concerned about you, but this was a chance for you to live a little! Besides, the location of the bonfire party was close  to your home, and you had traversed the nearby woods enough times to be confident in your ability to not get lost. You sat up confidently before shooting a friend a text in the large group chat.

Actually! I can come! I’ll see you there!

Immediately, your phone began to blow up with excitement at the news. You knew of your shy reputation, and you also knew that many of your friends were ready to get you out of your shell, to help you try new things, to let you do whatever and have fun all the while. You smiled to yourself and giggled. Yeah, you were giddy, but who wouldn’t be? For the first time in your life, you were going out into the night hours. For the first time in your life, you were going to rebel. 

You giggled shamelessly as you threw on a thick, warm coat and a comfortable pair of shoes that would do a decent job of carrying you through the woods. An infectious smile played on your lips as you rushed to grab a flashlight and a pair of bunny ears that your parents had left you as a sad excuse for a Halloween costume on the dining room table. You shoved the cheap mess of felt and plastic on your head before practically skipping towards the back door. Your phone was still nestled in the back pocket of your pants, and you were suddenly aware of what you were about to do.

Your parents, who had only forbade you for concerns of your safety… Did they really deserve this? Did they deserve this blatant defiance of their wishes? Of course not, but hey, if you left your phone at home, then they probably would be none the wiser to your absence. 

So, you went back to the couch and set the device down gently. Your mom would definitely be freaking out the second she noticed that your location had been turned off, then your dad would probably start calling you nonstop. At that point they would call the cops to the house and your ass would be found out. So, the best option would be just to leave it here and hope nothing too crazy would happen tonight on your way there. Hopefully you could get a ride on the way back, though.

You left the T.V running on low volume and left out the back door to venture into the woods. There was a big, infectious smile on your face and a pep in your step while you wandered off to meet your friends. This was going to be great!

This, as it turned out, was not as great as you had hoped it’d be. You frustratedly kicked a branch out of your way while groaning.

  “ Ughhhh, there’s no fucking way I’m this dumb,” you said as you stomped through the vague path made by the few people, mainly kids, that would wander through whatever particular section of forest you had wandered in. Yeah, that’s right. You, in all your excitement, had gotten lost. Who knows for how long, because you didn’t bother to bring a watch or anything with you.

The dark wall of trees loomed over you mockingly. Its colossal mass of leaves and bark blocked any view of the moonlight struggling to stream down, and you felt this crushing weight of fear that had not been there moments before. Your stupid, horrid confidence had tricked you into thinking that this was a good idea (part of you still believed it was), and now you were at the mercy of whatever lurked in the brush. 

Wind curled chillingly around the bodies of wooden figures and cut directly into you. Your fingers had begun to grow numb from their lack of protection, and you brought your hands up to cup the warm puffs of breath you let out to prevent fall frostbite. Your eyes, holding back tears of frustration, stung with the nothingness of the night. It really was too dark to make your way back home at this point. The path you had taken had gotten tangled up like a spool of cheap yarn, and you weren’t sure that there was a way that you could safely find your backyard again, much less your intended party. 

In your wallowing, your gaze fixed upon a faint glimmer from between the trees. It wasn’t particularly bright or dazzling, but the haunting void of the woods offered you no greater comfort. Even if it wasn’t anything grand, a clearing of some kind would be better than staying where you were. I mean, if you were already lost, then why not spend the remainder of the evening looking up at the stars? It was a weak motivator, but honestly the paranoia of the canopy was too much for you to bear. Who knows what was hiding in them? 

So, you stumbled about for a little longer. The tip of your shoe caught on roots that jutted out above soil, and your clothes snagged on whatever stray twig reached out, but eventually you arrived at the source of silver shimmer that you had spied.

It was a little clearing, serene and silent save for the rustle of breeze upon the otherwise still water of the pond. The moon, which you could finally see now, shone merrily on its surface. The reflection bathed everything in bright gray, a stark contrast to the utter darkness you had been struggling through for what felt like eternity. More than just the moon, you could make out the constellations stretching across the night without any interruption. 

You could hear no frog croak, nor the faint humming of bugs. The only thing that reached your ears was your own stilling heartbeat as you decided to rest against a fallen log. Truthfully, you were exhausted. The adrenaline of getting lost had taken a lot out of you, and you held little hope of actually getting out of this stupid forest until the sun rose. Part of you wondered if your friends would think it was strange how you hadn’t showed; You really, really hoped that they wouldn’t call the cops to do a wellness check on you or anything. You would definitely get busted if that happened. 

You groaned in relief as you sunk down to the ground. The cold and damp soil pressed into the lines of your hands, and you cringed slightly at the feeling. You would be super uncomfortable for the rest of the night, but that was just the price you would have to pay for being dumb. Though, as shitty as this situation was, the pond was kind of nice. I mean, it was almost glowing in a way that you would see in a pretty oil painting that had all of the brushstrokes still visible. It wasn’t the body of water you were looking for, but it was still nice. You appreciated the peace it brought you in that moment. 

As you sat there, trying to close your eyes and soak up your surroundings, you heard a very familiar sound.

Plink

Your attention was captivated by that single note. Your heart began to beat and ache for the hazy nostalgia it brought. You knew what it was. You had craved the exact thing as a child, and even now you yearned for the fuzzy warmth that you knew it would bring.

Plink

It was behind you, in the log. You sat up unbelievably straight and twisted to look through the rotting wood. You could feel small spiders and bugs brush up against your fingers, but you persisted. The soft notes rung out slowly, pathetically, begging you to wind it up so it could play to completion. There was a crevice where cold moss had filled in, and you reared your hands back like a snake before striking. It was a clumsy, exhaustion driven endeavor, but you knew you had to find whatever was making the music.

The tips of your nails bumped against something solid. Another note played. Another Plink; you had found it. With some weird sense of desperation you grabbed it and wrenched it out of its place. Your chest heaved with some anxiety as you held it under the moonlight. 

A music box, detailed and ornate like the ones you used to love. The glossy porcelain shimmered like it was made with the finest jewels, and you shakily gazed over the little figurines sitting together on a sculpted, crescent moon, smiling and sitting shoulder to shoulder in complete bliss. You laughed a little. How could you not? In the worst situation you had ever physically been in, you had found a small piece of joy in both the clearing and a trinket that a child version of yourself would have gone ballistic over.

There, on your knees with the dampness of the grass soaking into your pants, you wound it up. The little couple on the moon spun idly as you held it in your hands. There were bits of grime and dirt covering its surface, and you had to wonder how loved it had been. Was anyone missing it? If so, you hoped that they wouldn’t mind having the object find a new home. You knew that if any of your beloved music boxes had somehow managed to wind up in such an odd place, you’d be more relieved to find that it had been loved rather than ripped apart by mother nature. 

You could pretend there in that clearing with that soft tune, on a night made for pretending mind you, that you were anywhere else. That you were living a fantastical life full of romance, adventure, and surrounded by a kind of beauty that could only be found in little delicate pieces, painted with care and crafted to spark comfort. 

When the gears within had stopped turning, you found yourself more calm than when you had been frantically searching for a way back home moments before. It was funny how just a stroke of familiarity could ground you. You held up the music box once more to examine it fully, your eyes squinting with some effort. Still transfixed by it, you began to shakily stand up. You weren’t really sure why. Perhaps you wanted to just stretch out your legs a bit, or maybe you wanted to move around to get some more warmth back into your admittedly freezing body. It didn’t really matter as to why you stood, but as soon as your wobbly calves were placed under your full weight, you stumbled to the side.

You squawked out in surprise as you tripped and careened towards the surface of the pond. You held the little music box tightly, your hands automatically cupping around the figures, as you braced for the impact of cold, frigid water.

Instead, you were met with cold, rigid ground.

Shock raced through your veins as you bluntly landed on your side, all the air leaving your lungs in an instant. You couldn’t breathe. Your chest sucked in and in but nothing was happening, and your limbs flailed around wildly, searching for anything to help. You took in large gasps, certain that you appeared as a beached fish, while your vision blurred and you somehow managed to roll onto your back.

Your entire body felt like it burned, your heart was racing to the point it was painful, and the world was a blur of silver and black, but after a few moments of struggling to calm down and breathe properly, you were able to somehow feel alright. You didn’t feel like it, but you also weren’t suffocating anymore so that was definitely the better outcome. Your hands were shaking as you held them in front of your face, and you could barely focus on them properly. Beyond the tips of your fingers, you could see the porcelain box. It had rolled away after you had dropped it at some point. 

You groaned as you sluggishly reached for it, forcing yourself to sit up along the way. After briefly confirming that the object was okay and not damaged, you quickly came to realize one majorly glaring issue: there were no trees. There actually was nothing that even resembled the little clearing you were in. No rotting log, no moist grass, no pond. No, you were sitting on a brick paved path, the tile made a pearlescent white, shimmering as your gaze raked across it. You blinked slowly a couple times to make sure that you weren’t hallucinating, only to find a large gate before you.

How you hadn’t noticed it before, no idea, but what you could see plainly was its otherworldly beauty. Swirling white wood formed into a circle, Glowing bright in a way that resembled the shining pond. It resembled, to be frank, the moon. Your lips parted wordlessly. 

“What the fuck?” You whispered very confusedly. The more lucid you became, the more clear it was that you were no longer in the forest by the lake. You were, evidently, sitting in front of a gate that was attached to no fence, sitting at the end of a pathway. When you frantically turned your head, you were met with the sight of a sprawling complex of ornate buildings, all connected by covered wooden paths. The place was lush with plants and flowers, and lanterns swayed softly as they lit up their surroundings with a dim, comforting hue.

It was gorgeous, out of a storybook even, but it was, as you quickly realized, all in various shades of silver. What you presumed to be wood was a sleek dark gray, and anything else held the appearance of being bathed in… well bathed in moonlight. You tilted your head up quickly, and your breathing became rapid at the suspicion that had sneaked into your head. Up, there in the deep inkwells of the sky, were stars. Many constellations peppered the night like freckles, and they were clearer than you had ever seen before, even more so than earlier when you had arrived at the pond. It was breathtaking, but there was a lack of a certain presence that frightened you. There was no moon.

With that sudden realization, came a crashing noise. Your attention was snapped back to a lone figure standing on the path ahead of you, just before the complex. A tray laid by their feet, shards of shattered porcelain scattered about from what you presumed to be a cup, and the liquid held within it had spilled all over the ground. You were stunned, all the shock held within you being exemplified by the fact that standing before you was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

He too was not exempt from the grayscale of this odd world you had entered, and his shining eyes had been surprised by your sudden arrival to his home (?). Neither of you moved from your respective spots, until an excited, infectious smile spread across his lips.

“ Welcome!” He spoke as he rushed forwards. He crouched down to your level, stretching out his hands and arms in a beckoning gesture. You curled into yourself a bit, the music box still in your hands. He faltered at your hesitation, the corners of his lips falling ever so slightly, and moved back. 

“ Uhm, forgive me. You must be frightened,” he apologized quickly. The rushed nature in his voice was not lost on you, and his kind smile was stretched too thin for you to really feel comfortable, but he was offering his hand out to you. On the smooth surface of his skin, you could see a desperation that was oddly familiar. Your quickly beating heart stilled slightly before you began to take in an actual good look at him.

He had silver eyes, reflective like the rest of the surroundings, framed by long lashes that you were sure touched his eyebrows. His complexion, a dark gray, was shiny like glass. You could see no blemish upon his exposed skin. He was as mystical as your surroundings. He was tall, with a lean and nimble build that showed with every movement he made. His hair was braided neatly, and you felt a twinge of both envy and awe at the way his locks fell below his waist.

Slowly, as if you might die if you actually touched him, you reached out and put your hand in his grasp. He laughed, softly and so quiet that you weren’t sure you were even supposed to hear it, and From there you were quickly pulled to your feet and tugged toward the complex of buildings. The man led you through the open halls, which were more confusing than you had originally gleaned, shooting you quick, joyful glances. The wooden planks under your feet creaked loudly, there was some faint rustling from the flora, and yet other than that, there was no noise. It unnerved you to no degree. You clutched the music box closer to your chest as your ears searched for anything other than the whispers of the wind. 

It was almost apocalyptic, like you had stepped into the end of the world.

Finally, after winding through the halls, he stopped at a room with a curtain for a door. He brushed the sheer fabric aside and pulled you in excitedly. 

“ Here, sit down. I’ll make you tea!” he insisted. He put a hand on your back and pushed you towards a dusty table. A little stove and sink was in one corner, and it didn’t take you long to identify this place as a little kitchen. You didn’t know what else to do, so you pulled out a chair and settled into it. He bustled about, hurriedly opening cabinets and getting everything ready. You watched him wordlessly, not really sure what to do.

It was obvious that this man was not expecting your presence here if the shattered glass, that he had left by where he found you by the way, was anything to go by. The odd appearance of this place combined with the way you got there in the first place confirmed that either you were hallucinating, or you had somehow gone to a place that was definitely not earth. Your stomach twisted into tight knots at the thought of that. 

The soft clunk of a teacup on wood brought you out of what was likely the start of a spiral, and you looked up to see the eager, smiling face of the man. The steaming cup was pushed gently to your side of the table; he sat opposite of you, watching intently as you stared at the beverage.

“ I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I made black tea. Do you need milk? Sugar?” He asked, already moving to get anything you desired.

“ Uhm, no, no. I’m fine!” you insisted. He sat back down quickly.

“ So uhhh, what is this place?” You cut right to the chase. You were too hopped up on adrenaline to really wait any longer. The pads of your fingers rubbed over the sides of the music box in a self serving manner as you swallowed nervously.

“ I will be honest, I’m not sure myself. I’ve been here for a while, though. I’m Samuel, by the way,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow. He seemed sheepish. It was like he was embarrassed about something small, like a pimple on your back, and not an entirely different plane of existence or wherever it is you were. 

“ Sorry if I seem…A bit odd. It’s been a while since I've, well, since I've talked to anyone,” he admitted. “ I’m terribly sorry if I've frightened you. You must be very confused.”

“Yeah no kidding,” you snorted out almost immediately. He winced at your grumbled words, and a pang of regret hit you. You uncrossed your arms. “ I’m fine,” you relented, “ just confused is all. I got lost and ended up here.” 

“ I see, could you perhaps recall what happened before you came here? It’s been such a long time since I arrived. I’m not even sure I can tell you what I was doing before I became part of this place,” he asked. 

“ What do you mean?”

“ I used to not live here. I was like you, and I used to roam as I pleased. This was a safe haven of some sort, and I kept returning until I felt as if I no longer wished to go back. That was ages ago, though. I can hardly remember it,” he explained. Odd, he looked only a few years older than you were. How long could he have been here to forget everything? Despite your concerns, you introduced yourself briefly and explained how you had strayed away from your path during the night. You briefly mentioned the party and took off your stupid rabbit ears that you were honestly surprised had stuck onto your head for so long at this point. You talked about finding the clearing and falling into the pond.

“ So yeah, that’s when I wound up uh by that moon thing where you found me. Here I am I guess,” you shrugged, not really feeling comfortable with his intense stare. The small little tidbits of information he had given you made it clear that the man was simply lonely. You weren’t exactly sure how long ‘ ages ‘ was, but you didn’t imagine that this little complex of buildings was a thriving social scene. You fiddled with the little figurines in your palms. The curve of the crescent moon fit into your palm like it was meant to be there, but they were starting to feel clammy from your nerves. You gently placed it on the table so you could wipe the sweat off of them, nearly missing the way he perked up.

“ Where ever did you get that?”

“ Huh? What do you mean?” 

“ Where did you get that? I’ve been searching for that for such a long time!” He exclaimed, reaching over to grab it. He snatched it up quickly, a large smile on his face. He held it up like it was a newborn baby, fondness etched into the structure of his face.

“ Oh, I found that before I fell into the pond,” you explained. Your fingers twitched, subconsciously you wanted to take it back.

“ Ah, I see. So it was out there… I would have been searching these halls for an eternity if it wasn’t for you. This is one of my most precious objects, you see.”

“ Oh, uh, you’re welcome I guess. Glad you could get it back,” you said, feeling a twinge of disappointment. The soft melody of the music box wasn’t something you could easily get out of your head, so you could understand his excitement at your discovery, but still that meant that you  were the one that would continue to remember that sweet song for who knows how long. Whatever, it was fine. You could probably scratch the itch by digging through an old closet at home and finding your parents’ collection. Speaking of which…

“ Uhm, how do I get home?” You asked. Your query seemed to break his joyous mood in an instant, his demeanor drooping like a kicked dog. “ I just, you know, I need to be back before people realize I’m missing. I’d, uh, yeah I’d get in a lot of trouble if my parents found out I snuck out,” you lamely explained. You hoped that he wouldn’t take you wanting to get the hell out of here wasn’t a reflection on his personality.

“ You wish to leave? Already?” You nodded, and he sighed sadly. “ I see. Well, it is a shame, really. I was quite enjoying our conversation. You seem like you have a lively character, and I’m sure that there are already people who miss your presence. I would’ve liked to further learn of your life and what it’s like out there right now, but that’s quite alright. Here, I’ll show you the correct way to exit this place.”

You felt relieved the second he stood up. Your cup of tea had barely been touched, and the pit in your stomach had become unbearable. Screw the party, screw Halloween, you just wanted to go and curl up in your bed, pass out and pretend that this whole thing had been just a very weird dream. You followed him out of the little kitchen eagerly, the tension melting away finally. After this, you’d probably be sore for days based on how stiff you were. 

“ I hope I’ve been a decent host. It really has been too long. I apologize for how…dysfunctional my home might seem. It really is beautiful, yet I find that there are simply too many rooms and halls for me to keep them properly tidy. I hope you didn’t mind,” Samuel chattered on as you approached the shiny pearlescent path that you originally arrived at. You considered his words briefly; they did make some sense. It would explain why the table had been so dusty even though he seemed sure about that being the first room he had in mind to bring you. It was only him though.  That gave the serene complex a lonely, melancholic air. 

You watched the way his locks fell down his back. They shone so brightly under moonlight that came from nowhere, and you felt a bit irked that you found someone so beautiful under such odd circumstances. If only you had met him at the party tonight. It probably would’ve only elevated the whole experience. Damn, if only you hadn’t gotten lost. 

“ Here we are,” he said softly as you approached the circular gate.

“ Does this really go back to Earth?”

“ I should hope so,” Samuel’s laugh was gentle and clear as a windchime. “ I mean this is how you got here. This is where I would go through any time I wanted to leave, when I used to do so that is.”

He reached a hand out, ready to go through the shimmering surface of the moonlike gate. His fingers grazed its surface, and his eyes widened slightly. He pressed his palm fully to it before turning to face you with what you could only describe as utter confusion.

“ What? What’s wrong?” You asked, concern clear in your demeanor. His gaze was pointed towards the ground, refusing to meet your eyes. “ Did it not work?” You gulped. At this point, you didn’t notice when exactly you did this, you had latched onto his arm a bit desperately. Finally, at this physical contact, you looked up to see his guilty expression.

“Ah, it, uh, it appears that we missed the window.”

So apparently, the gate that you had entered through only opened once a month on a full moon for a brief period of who knows how long. Samuel hadn’t been able to go through, so, because the universe loved you sooo much, you were stuck in this weird realm until when the next full moon rolled around, AKA, in a month. Basically you were stuck here. 

As pissed off as you were, there was really nothing you could do about it, so all you could do was really sit back and try to relax. Samuel had excitedly dragged you to show you more of the rooms in the complex. There were an incomprehensible amount of bedrooms, though you didn’t have much time to actually look at any of them properly before he had dragged you off to what he was most proud of.

“Here! You can have the room next to mine!” He had exclaimed as he threw open the door to an admittedly very nice bedroom. “ I’ll have to tidy it up a bit,” he remarked after you swiped your finger on the vanity surface and a coating of dust came up with it. “ I’ll rest here for tonight. You may take mine,” he stated. It wasn’t really an offer, more like a fact of the matter.

So you went to his room with a bundle of clothes Samuel had provided from a wardrobe. You had to shake it off for a little before you felt comfortable sliding into them, and they fit loose and baggy on your frame, but they were soft and comfortable so you didn’t particularly mind. You were alone for the first time since you had come here, and it was now that you weren’t swept up in the chaos of your temporary roommate's excitement that you were able to take in the true craftsmanship that was surrounding you. The furniture in his room was part of a set, the bed frame, desk, small armoire, chairs, and wardrobe all having vines and roses carved climbing up the surface of wood. 

It was lovely, and the curtains both by the small window and by the bed were a soft sheer silver, though you were glad that there was actually a door here. You weren’t sure that you would feel the safest if there wasn’t. Granted, there was no lock, but you’d rather have some kind of separation from a total stranger rather than none. There was a series of knocks, and you weakly called out,” Come in.” 

“ I came to make sure that everything was up to par,” he explained. “ Is everything alright? I mean, I understand that you’re not here under the most ideal circumstances, but I mean, is the room alright? I would like you to be comfortable.”

“ Yeah. It’s nice here. I mean yeah, you’re right this isn’t, like, ideal or whatever, but this is okay. Thank you for letting me stay here,” you said absently as you fussed with the sheets and pillows on the bed before sitting down. 

“ It’s hardly any trouble. There isn’t anywhere else to go,” he said pleasantly. “ Ah, I suppose I should leave you to rest. You’ve had an eventful night. Sleep well,” he said, hesitantly hovering by the door as he spoke.

“ Yeah, uh, goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He left after that. You managed to snuggle into the sheets without much difficulty. You had to admit, it was the most comfortable mattress you had ever laid on. It was like a dream, and you thought briefly about how you might actually be doing so. Part of you hoped that this was all some weird nightmare brought on by eating bad candy or something, and you were actually back at home laying on your couch. This was too elaborate, though. As you tried to fall asleep, you gazed at the pond and courtyard just beyond your window, watching as gauzy curtains floated on a gentle breeze wondering about what he meant that there was nothing else beyond here.

It hadn’t occurred to you the night before, but it turned out that the time here didn’t seem to pass the same as it did in the real world. When you had awoken, it was still night. When you left your room and asked Samuel, who was sitting in the courtyard by your door, about it, he had simply replied, “ That’s just how it is.”

He then asked you if you would like to help him clean up your room, and because you weren’t rude and would feel bad if you did make him do it all by himself, you agreed. He became elated afterwards, humming quietly to himself as he fetched some brooms, buckets, and rags from a small little closet down the hallway. 

“ I’ll make us some food soon,” he said, a smile settled on his lips, as he handed you a bucket. When he did so, his fingers brushed up against your own, lingering there for a few moments longer than you what probably would be acceptable. “ Do you, ah, have any preferences?”

“ Not really, just as long as it’s edible,” you laughed weakly, pulling away slightly. He nodded. 

“ I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.” 

The two of you got to work quickly. There was a thin layer of dust over every surface there. It made some sense; there was no need to hang out in a bedroom that wasn’t yours other than maybe for a change of scenery. Samuel made small talk with you as you swept, remarking on various items and books that he found while organizing things. There wasn’t much to be done really, the room looked as if it had been untouched for a long time. It wasn’t messy in the way where clothes and crap would be strewn around everywhere, but there were cobwebs that needed to be gone if you were gonna stay there for more than a night.

You had just finished up mopping the floors when the silver man paused in his dusting and suggested that you two finally take your break. You, running on an empty stomach, agreed pretty quickly. This led to you sitting in the open hallway outside of another small kitchen a couple doors down from the two bedrooms that were now being used. Your legs dangled over the side, your shoes brushing over the blades of shining grass. Behind you the soft sound of a wooden spoon scraping against a pan could be heard along with his humming. 

He had made you tea again, and this time you actually found yourself idly sipping it as a way to pass the time. It was peaceful here, you would admit that. Despite the large amount of skepticism you held, you had to acknowledge that as weird as it was, this was an okay change of pace. Yes, you would have rather spent your time doing assignments or strengthening your new friendships, but Samuel was nice if not a bit over eager, and there wasn��t anything inherently wrong with that. Maybe this was just a really weird way of making an equally weird connection with someone new. 

Plus, like you had noted many times before, he was insanely nice to look at. It was hard to not feel some small flutters in your chest when he looked at you like you were the only other person in the world, mainly because you actually were the only other person here. You were trying to not think about it too hard, though. You wouldn’t be staying here for long. Samuel handed you a small plate filled with eggs and rice with a pleasant expression.

“ It’s not very elaborate, but I hope that it’s enjoyable. I can make you something more flavorful at another time,” he said while taking up a seat next to you.

“ It’s pretty good,” you said after shoveling in a few mouthfuls, nodding with satisfaction.

“ That’s a relief,” he laughed. “ I’m glad that I don’t have to relearn how to cook or anything.”

“ Don’t worry about it too much. I’m not really a chef either. All I know how to make is some basic stuff like noodles. Oh, hey, that reminds me, where did you even get the stuff to make this?” You asked, gesturing slightly to the food. Samuel shrugged.

“ I’m not sure. It simply… appears. A Lot of items here just appear sometimes. There were times where I had to figure out how to use them correctly. Like the fridge. I’m not sure when it arrived or how, just that I had to figure out what it was used for. Some of my food just started appearing there from then on,” he pondered.

“ Hm, well that’s kind of cool,” you shrugged with a hum.

“ Yes, I suppose it is.”

Something that you noticed by your second day in the complex was that there was a lack of most modern technology. There were no radios, T.Vs, modern magazines, microwaves, computers or phones, landline or mobile, that you could find in the main building that you and Samuel were staying in. When you had brought this up to him, he had just stared at you with a slightly bewildered expression.

“ So you’ve never heard of a radio?” you asked a bit incredulously.

He shook his head. “ I’m not certain if I have. Perhaps you could detail it to me? It’s possible that I’ve seen one before,” he said earnestly, leaning over to you. 

The two of you had been sitting out on the lawn of the courtyard, just talking about various topics as they floated into the conversation. Your room had been cleaned out already, so now there wasn’t much to do but hang out. You had asked him if there was anything that he really had to do at one point, but as it turned out there weren’t any real responsibilities that came attached to this place. It was clear though that you were both interested in each other's lives, though, so getting to know each other was pretty high up on the list of things to do. 

“ Uh, never mind, It doesn’t really matter,” you laughed, waving off the whole technology issue. Samuel seemed hesitant to drop the subject, but then you started asking about other things, like how many rooms there were and if he had ever swam in the pond. Harmless topics like that seemed to bring back his excited chatter quickly, and the two of you continued on with your conversation. 

Though later, when you went to bed, you looked out at the stars and wondered just how long the silver locked man had been here exactly.

The third day you had woken up much earlier than Samuel, so you decided that it was time that you do a bit of exploring by yourself. He had shown you around the building your room was in briefly, you knew that there probably were more interesting things to be found in the other ones in the complex. You, in all your modern attention spanned glory, were curious and bored, so you quietly left your room so as to not disturb him and set out to check out the building that was closest to the gate. 

There wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary there other than the fact that it existed in this realm to begin with. It was different from the building with all of the bedrooms, though. There were more places that seemed suited for gathers of various sizes. From small, intimate rooms with couches, pillows and lamps that burned dimly to a large extended banquet table that could seat an impossible number of guests, It was clear that this space was made to house people. It wasn’t just this building though, it was the one with all the empty rooms. This place was supposed to hold life, and the fact that it seemed so desolate despite you and Samuel was a bit chilling. 

Still, you continued to look around, poking your nose into random closets and paging through books that were far too old for you to comfortably sit down and read them. Just like everything else there, there was dust to be found on everything. You had been thrown into a few hacking fits just by sitting down on a few dirty chairs, the upholstery pluming out with grime. 

Eventually, you stood in front of two doors, more large and ornate than any that you had seen previously, so of course you had to go inside. There was no way that you couldn’t, given the burning desire to just get up and do anything. So, you went in to discover, to your surprise, a library. Instantly, you recognized that this space must’ve been used by Samuel regularly, for one, there were signs of actual life everywhere. 

The shelves of the library went all the way up to the tall ceiling, and they were packed full of novels of all kinds of genres. There were scientific journals and romance volumes crammed next to each other, there were history books galore, and you even spied some copies of Shakespearean tragedies shoved next to poets that seemed to weave silk out of words. Your fingers ran over their spines, trying to decide if you actually wished to read something at the moment. It wasn’t like you were doing anything better, though.

Still, there were books strewn out on the tables, candles that had been melted down to the stub, and loose papers stacked into messy piles, even messier handwriting scrawled on their surface. Everything had this old, antique sort of feel to it, one that you would see people trying to desperately recreate online for the sake of living up to some aesthetic. You assumed that everything that was out of the shelves had been handpicked by Samuel, so you began to look through the novels.

As you did, a few trends became very noticeable. One, he seemed to be a sucker for romance. The books that he seemed to read the most, the ones with the cracked spines and softened paper edges were all stories of grand love. You hadn’t known him long enough to properly assess his character yet, but you wouldn’t deny that you could see him being of the tender hearted type, and these stories with prose that dripped with honey seemed to prove that. Not to mention, his writings were all poems that also seemed to focus on the concept of finding one’s true partner. He dreamed of it frequently, it seems. You put down the poems, feeling slightly uncomfortable with looking through something so personal, maybe a bit too late, but hey, you tried. 

Another thing that became quite clear was that most of the books and novels in the library had been published during or before the late 1800’s. You tried to think not too hard about the implications of that.

Eventually, you found a relatively easy read and settled in to really dig into the book on a comfy little couch that surprisingly didn’t have much dust on it. You had gotten maybe 20 minutes into it when you heard the sounds of hurried footsteps, slamming doors and your name being called. You jumped a bit when Samuel came bursting into the library, breathless and clearly just a bit frantic. You blinked at him owlishly as he panted like he had just ran a marathon. The second he caught sight of your tensed up self he let out a large sigh and seemed to physically crumple.

“ Oh good, you were here all this time,” he gasped out, a weak, trembling smile meeting his lips. He wobbled over to you quickly, and you could only really stare back at him.

“ Uhhh yeah, I wanted to see if I could find any books to read to, you know, pass the time. Is, uh, everything okay? You okay? Have a bad dream or something?” You asked with clear concern.

“ Ah, no everything is fine. I just, perhaps I got a bit carried away there. You’ll have to forgive me. I became very frightened when I realized you were not in your room this morning. Then I couldn’t find you anywhere else and I, well, I became worried for a moment. It’s all well now that I’ve found you haha,” Despite his small laughs, you could see that Samuel was still shaking. From fear or what, you weren’t sure, but he was obviously not alright.

“ Oh, well I’m sorry. I, uh, didn’t really want to wake you,” you explained, standing up so you could stand by him and offer a bit of support. You weren’t really sure what was the best course of action to take here, but maybe being understanding was the best route?

“ Of course, It’s really no trouble. No need to apologize. Although, if you could, just please let me know where you’ll be ahead of time? It would save me a great deal of worry,” He asked, his brows pinched up in concern. You bit your lip. This was not normal behavior, to be so worried about a near stranger disappearing and all, but then again, Samuel had been here by himself for what you presumed to be a very long time. If you really were the first person that had come here since he started living in this place full time, then wouldn’t it be natural that he was instantly clingy to the first social connection he’s had in a while?

“ Uh yeah, I can do that. Sure, uh, do you want to uh, go back to the courtyard or something? I wanted to uh grab some books first though,” you agreed and gestured to the shelves. He nodded quickly, and you didn’t fail to notice how he scrambled to hide his various pages of writing behind his back. You  pretended not to, more for his peace of mind. You quickly gathered up any novel that had caught your eye and shuffled out of the library a bit awkwardly. 

The next few days were spent just lazing about and reading any books that look vaguely interesting, and Samuel stuck by your side as much as possible. He tried to pretend that he wasn’t, making up some excuses about wanting to clean a room or him forgetting an object by where you were hanging out, but it appeared that at one point or another he realized how lame he probably sounded so he simply just started following you around the complex. You didn’t mind all that much. He was good company, and it was clear that he was just worried about being a bother. 

You had called him over a number of times to your side, and his bright expression was admittedly pretty lovely. It turned out that he had also read most of the books in the library, if not all of them. You found that out after he made remarks about a fantasy novel you had gotten pretty engrossed in and subsequently spoiled the ending for you. He had been very apologetic afterwards.

Like most days, the two of you would sit in the courtyard and the open hallways, laying down and talking about random subjects. It was one of these idle days that you finally broached a topic that you had been dying to know.

“How old are you anyways, Samuel?” You asked while lazily flipping through some pages that you had already gone through. He, who had simply been watching you, blinked surprised. 

“I’m not exactly sure. I believe that I am about the same as you,” he shrugged. Over the past few days, the two of you had become slightly more casual with each other. Spending all day within each other's company was bound to do that, but you found it to be interesting.

“ Well like, what was the last year before you started living here full time?”

“ Hmmmm, perhaps 1899? I recall many being restless about the incoming new year. You must have experienced that by now,” Samuel hung his head back in contemplation. You blinked in shock.

“ Dude what? You’re from the 1800’s!?” You pushed yourself up, more of your attention put on him.

‘Dude?” he mouthed out, confused by your wording.

“ It’s 2023 on Earth right now. That would make you over a hundred years old,” you explained, awe laced in your voice. You crawled over to him in what you could only assume was in a super unhinged manner. “ You’re like, super old.”

“ I am most certainly not old!” he cried, crossing his arms in protest. You laughed, the most open and expressive thing you had done since you had gotten to this odd place, and rolled onto your side unceremoniously, your body shaking with little snorts. At your response, he could only grin.

“ Come now! You can’t be serious!” he laughed. “ I am not!”

“ You totally are dude!” you playfully shot back. From there, your conversation devolved into a messy tangle of jabs, giggles, and jokes.

 The quietness of the complex melted away slowly as you filled it with the music of your voices intertwining. You would say something silly, and Samuel would respond with naive confusion. He wasn’t used to your kind of humor, but by god was he trying. You could see it in the small pinch of his brows before he would throw all of his 17th century logic to the wind and join in on your fun. 

It was almost like you were a kid again, playing with some other child that you would probably never see again after you left the park. A temporary best friend who you would spill your entire family’s business to as you ran around a swing set. That’s what Samuel was to you in a way. There was actually something kind of freeing about knowing that anything that happened in that weird realm would stay there with him. There was really no reason why you couldn’t be friends with him, even if any relationship built wasn’t very permanent. Besides, he seemed to actively want to interact with you at nearly all points of the day(?) despite knowing that you would be going away in about three weeks, so who were you to really deny that?

At some point the gate had changed in appearance. You had noticed on maybe a week into your stay while taking what you guessed to be a morning walk. The library had been calling your name, probably a product of nothing else but boredom, and you had taken a quick glance in its direction. You stopped in your tracks when you saw that part of the circle had been darkened. 

“ Huh,” you managed out weakly. That was certainly strange, you would have to ask Samuel about that later.

“ Why don’t you clean the rest of the rooms?” You asked him the next day. You had been doodling on a piece of paper while he had been writing what you assumed to be a poem. He had finally gotten comfortable enough with you to actually start doing things that he liked to pass the time, and the two of you had settled into a random drawing room with a table low to the ground. There was a plate of cookies and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate that you had made before your little hangout session had begun. He had been slightly wary of your presence in the kitchen, but you just had to shoo him off so that you could actually treat him to something.

It wasn’t like you were a super experienced baker or anything, but still, you just wanted to do a little something for him. 

“Hmm, I haven’t considered it in a while. A while ago I attempted to keep this entire place spotless, but after a while of doing so, I failed to see the point. It was an Era, as you would say,” He explained, pausing his writing for a moment to visibly think about it. The fountain pen perched in his fingers dripped ink slightly, causing a small, black splatter to appear on the paper. You giggled softly. “ Why? Do you wish to see them clean? I’ll do so if you want. All I ask is that you stay by my side and help as needed,” he offered, very sincerely too. You tried not to think of the way your face might have flushed at that, nor did you pay any mind to the tingling feeling racing up your skin.

“ Nah, I was just wondering. It would be a pretty big project to upkeep this place like how you do with our rooms. Though it would be something to do. Maybe we could pick a random room and clean it up tomorrow?” You suggested as you ran a stick of charcoal on your own paper, creating random lines and swirls. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his lips curl into a fond smile.

You didn’t want to meet his gaze, for you were harboring a sneaking suspicion that you were developing a crush on your new friend. Sure you had only known him for a week, but stranger things had happened. Plus, considering your isolation in high school and middle school, you never really had the chance to explore friendship much less romance. You were sure that Samuel was in a similar position; you could tell by the way his fingers would linger on your skin when ever he pushed you gently into wherever he wanted you to go, by the ways he would look at you as if you were the air he breathed, by way he acted like you were his last chance at anything and everything. 

That was a kind of attention you never had before, and had to admit that it was nice. The connection you had each other felt like a heavy blanket after an exhausting day. At least to you it did. But you knew that you really shouldn’t give in. You were going to leave soon, in like three weeks no less, and that gave you plenty of reasons to not give in to the warm feeling spreading through your chest whenever he gave you a smile. It was hard to ignore, though. 

“ That sounds like a lovely idea. Sounds like we’ll have a busy day ahead of us.”

From there your conversation fell into a comfortable silence. You focused mainly on your growing stack of drawings, the soft skrtching of both of your chosen utensils filling the space with noise. You drew corners of your home as best you could, some of your friends from college, jack-o'-lanterns, really whatever that floated into your mind at the moment. When you finally took a moment to pause from your “work”, you noticed that it was really quiet. Looking up, you could see that Samuel at some point had dozed off.

His arms rested against the table, his sleeves stained by the now dried ink of his poem, the words being a smudged mess of meter and rhyme. His braided locs fell over his face and back which softly rose and fell with every breath he took in. Your lips parted in slight surprise. Without really thinking about it, you leaned over the table to further see his resting visage. You drank in the way his long, silver lashes brushed up against his cheekbones. You blinked for a couple of moments, unsure of what to do. Honestly, you didn’t want to wake him up from his slumber, but you also didn’t want to keep staring at him. It was so unfair. He was too pretty to be real.

So, you quickly scribbled a note that you would be out exploring the rest of the complex and left it on the table before you scurried out of the drawing room as silently as you could. The creaking floors made it hard to do, but other than Samuel’s face scrunching up at a particularly loud squeak, you got out of there without disturbing him. From there you decided to walk through a building you hadn’t been to yet. 

It was cold there. Not just in the temperature, but in the general feel of the realm too. You looked on to the vast expanse of nothingness that stretched beyond the railings of the hallway, at the gray ground, at the stars that freckled the eternal night. There was no warmth, no love, no life here other than Samuel. You briefly recalled what he said to you when you had first met. How he was a part of this place now.

Did that mean he couldn’t leave?

You shrugged off the thought. He said it himself; he chose to be here. You probably shouldn’t pry into the matter. If you did, you weren’t certain that you could feel guiltless about leaving him behind here.

Today, you wanted to go to the building that sat just behind the other ones. It wasn’t by much, but you actively had to go slightly out of the way of the ones that surrounded the courtyard to get there. It had a slightly more gloomy air to it, but that only grew your interest further. 

There were fewer silver lamps glowing on its pathway than everywhere else, something that you thought pretty odd. Even more strange was the dust that covered the floorboards leading up to its darkened entrance. Dust was present everywhere here, it was just a fact, but none of the halls had been this neglected. Maybe Samuel just didn’t have any real reason to come here. 

You walked up to the double doors that led into the rest of the buildings, a bit strange considering that most of the buildings didn’t have anything other than the rooms that were purely indoors. Just another thing to make this one stand out. A trail of your footprints against the dust led up to where you were standing as you gave a couple hard yanks to the entrance before they finally gave way. Inside was almost completely pitch black save for a small window at the end of the hall letting in some shimmering light.

It was pretty eerie, but there was nothing to suggest that there was anything that would actively hurt you here, plus you had already come this far. You entered the dark building, peering at the closed doors with interest. You gripped onto the handle of the nearest one, attempting to push it open, but you didn’t have much luck. Locked, great. You huffed in slight frustration and moved on to try and get into any of the other rooms, but it was the same thing: A bunch of doors that wouldn’t open and your burning curiosity. You made your way down the hall attempting again and again until you finally reached the end of the hall. You were so close to the window that your shadow loomed across the floorboards in a warped manner. Part of you wondered if the light from the stars was really bright enough to have that kind of effect, the others just ignored it for the sake of having fewer unanswered questions. 

At that point, you had kind of given up on your little adventure, but you pushed on to the very last door without much fanfare. When you twisted the knob and pushed, this time instead of being met with nothing, when it clicked open. Your eyes lit up in success, and you couldn’t help the little triumphant grin that crossed onto your face as you found somewhere to finally explore.

The room you went into was probably the dirtiest you’d seen yet, though the locked ones were probably in a worse state. There wasn’t that much furniture there to begin with, but what did occupy the space wasn't in good shape. A chair that had likely once been highly ornate and pristine had been flipped over, part of the upholstery ripped out, and one of the arms as well as a leg had been smashed so harshly into the ground that the floorboards had cracked slightly, and the carved wood splintered all over the floor. 

There was a vanity pushed up against the wall, small gashes on the table top, the mirror shattered with glass shards littering the area around it. In the reflective surface, you could see where it had been hit, the impact leaving a spider web of cracks.

The thing that caught your eye the most was the wardrobe, a milky sort of off white, rickety and aged, with its doors thrown open. Its contents spilled out onto the floor in a haphazard manner. 

It was trash. Like actual garbage. There were candy bar wrappers, empty soda cans and chip bags stacked on each other and crumpled in a careless fashion. You stooped down and gently picked up one of the bags, the plastic crinkling along the lines of your hands, and swallowed down the uneasiness as you realized that you recognized the brand. You remembered the label too. 

Taking a glance at all the other pieces of waste around the room only confirmed that these were all from your world, all varying from different years based on the graphic designs, except that they were all in the silver and gray shades that coated the realm. Had Samuel saved all of these? If so, how had he been getting them? He said himself that he didn’t leave anymore, and his lack of knowledge about current events and culture didn’t suggest otherwise. You set down the chip bag gently, choosing instead to inspect the vanity and its drawers. 

You expected to find more garbage in there, but surprisingly instead you found various old beauty products. A couple of powders, some eyeshadow, pots of eyeliners, rogue, and lipstick. None of them were pigmented, but if you squinted you could pretend that you saw some shades of color. A bit of scarlet red here, some bright coral there, all dull and shining against the pads of your fingers. You held them up close to your eyes to further inspect how they glimmered. 

“ What are you doing?”

You turned around quickly, eyes wide and heart beating wildly. You put your hand to your chest, letting out a relieved sigh at the sight of Samuel standing in the doorway with a hard to read expression.

“ You scared me,” you said, lungs heaving just a bit. He walked into the room, eyes cold as he took in the piles of trash. He chose to go directly up to you, gently taking the pot of blush out of your hands and setting it on the shattered vanity.

“ Don’t touch that. Who knows how long it’s been there,” he softly muttered. You held your breath. He stood so closely that you could feel his words ghosting on the shell of your ear, sliding down the crook of your neck, warm and melancholic. 

“ I was just exploring. This was the only door I could open,” you explained. You shifted slightly on the balls of your feet. The sullenness of his face was enough to tell you that you probably shouldn’t have been in here. It was kind of obvious that that might’ve been the case given the state of the whole building, but you didn’t expect the hurt present on his face. “ What is all of this?” You asked, gesturing to the pile of discarded wrappings. Samuel grimaced slightly. A sore subject it seemed.

“ You don’t, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you rushed out, but he only sighed and wiped his hand nervously on his face.

“No, no it’s alright. I can, I can tell you. Could we, perhaps, go somewhere else?”

His voice cracked slightly, like he was being burned alive with tears. You nodded without thinking, your hands still smeared with makeup, and led him by the wrist out of the dark building. 

His vision was downcast, but he kept up with your pace as the two of you padded towards the courtyard. You stepped down onto the grass before sitting down next to each other, his tall frame resting against the side of yours. Being there with him like that felt like being a part of a puzzle that had just been completed; It was just right.

“ You okay?” you asked. Samuel was blankly staring at the surface of the pond. The gentle wind rustled through the bushes and small trees. He shielded you from the chill.

“ I suppose,” he shrugged. “ That place is just… It holds a lot of awful memories for me.” 

You thought back to the wrecked appearance, how abandoned the building felt. It was like an old tomb, forbidden and desolate. Still its structure loomed on not too far from your little haven, threatening the peace silently. 

“ Objects come here from your world, you know. Things people have lost, things people have tossed aside. Sometimes when the moon is full, I’ll find them by the gate. And when I do, they’re always so colorful. And I know, they’re things that have been discarded. They’re dirty, but I have no color like that. So I keep them, I look at them until they become like me, and when they lose all their vibrancy, I put them in that building.” His voice rumbled softly, coursing through your skin, twisting your stomach into knots. He took a shaky gasp.

“ I- forgive me, I just can’t help it. Whenever I go there…”

“ It’s okay. You don’t have to explain it. I get it. I’m sorry for making you go there. I mean, all you have to say is you don’t want to be there. If it makes you feel bad, then I understand. That’s all I need to know. If it hurts you, that’s reason enough,” you offered in a quiet whisper. You could feel him nod against you, the edge of his fingers finding your palm. You let your hand slip into his, and you could feel him let it lay in his grasp before he tightened it like you were his last lifeline. 

As you sat there hesitantly enjoying his warmth, you wondered if the way the edges of your skin appeared in a shimmering gray was a trick of the dim lighting in a shattered mirror. 

Somehow, you had fallen into the pond in the courtyard. It was probably a symptom of you not properly gathering your balance before walking,  Samuel having just called you to eat moments before. It mirrored your arrival, save for actually crashing into the water instead of another world. 

You groaned as you wiped off the droplets clouding up your vision. Man, your clothes were soaked now. It wasn’t like you had anything else better to do, but you were lazy, so it was more annoying than anything. The chill of the water combined with the wind made you shudder as you climbed out of the pond, its surface sloshing around you noisily. 

“ [Name]?” Samuel called out from the kitchen. You could hear the clanking of plates. Ever since yesterday and your admittedly intimate conversation, he had been calling you by your name more freely. You had to guess it was part of the 1800’s manners that still lingered within him.

“ I’ll be there in a second!” You yelled back, stumbling as you did so. He must’ve heard the struggling in your voice because as soon as you spoke he was poking his head out from the doorway with a concerned expression. He took in your drowned rat appearance, his eyes growing wide.

“ [Name]! “ he cried out. He rushed over to your side, grabbing your arm and quickly pulling you out onto dry land. This was the least gentle he had been since you got here, panic clear in his demeanor. He practically dragged you over to the wooden halls, forcing you to sit down as he began to frantically look you over.

“ Are you hurt anywhere? Here?” he asked as he grabbed onto your leg, rolling up the leg of your pants to check your skin for any sign of bruising. You practically had to kick your way out of his tightened hold.

“ Hey! Hey! I’m fine! I just slipped! “ you protested, laughing a little weakly too. You placed your hands on his shoulders to try and calm him down a bit. Samuel frowned deeply, and you hesitated. Was he still feeling sensitive from yesterday? Probably. You let your touch linger. Your pinky played with one of his locs idly. You smiled at him as best you could, but you had to admit that you were freezing at that point. The cold air of the realm cut into your bones. You shivered, and the reaction did nothing to calm him down.

“ You’ll get sick,” he mumbled, watching the way the water dripped from your clothes onto his dark skin. 

“ I should be fine If I get dressed. Here, let me get up, I’ll go to my room.”

“ No, mine has a fireplace, You’ll be warmer in there,” he stood up, putting his arms under your armpits and hoisting you onto your feet. You cried out as you grabbed onto the front of his shirt in shock. He dragged you towards his room, threw the door open and had you sit down on one of the chairs. You cringed as you could feel the upholstery grow soggy underneath you.

Samuel was rifling through his wardrobe, pulling out sleep clothes and a few fluffy towels. He wordlessly crossed the expanse of his room towards you, and began to wrap the fabric around you, rubbing the sides of your arms. 

“ Here,” he said as he handed you a silken shirt and a pair of pants. You noticed how they were much larger than your own frame, much more befitting the man before you. 

“ Thanks,” you replied weakly. You patiently waited for him to leave the room, but he stood still, blankly staring at your hunched over self. You quirked a brow at him, gesturing for the door. Instead of leaving, Samuel turned his back to you and began to fuss with the fireplace and the basket of wood  sitting on the floor.

“ I won’t… I won’t look. Please, just tidy yourself,” he spoke in a wavering voice. You could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed. You were uneasy, but there was no reason really not to. So, you quickly shimmied out of your sopping outfit and changed into the clean one provided, all the while practically glaring at him to ensure that he was in fact keeping true to his word. You didn’t let him know that you had finished, choosing instead to simply watch him. Soon the silence was filled with the crackling of a fire. He sighed in relief when he stood up and realized that you had done as he asked.

He pulled off some of the pillows from his bed, the duvet, and grabbed some fluffy blankets from his wardrobe. The soft materials were placed down on the floorboards in front of the flames, arranged into a plush little area that looked insanely comfortable. 

“ Here, sit down. I’ll bring you some tea,” Samuel said as he placed his hands on your shoulders and gently pushed you down. 

“ Hey,” you spoke. He stopped in his tracks. You gestured for him to come back to your side, patting the ground next to you. He looked reluctant, fingers twitching and ready to head back to the kitchen. “ You don’t seem okay. Talk to me,” you said as earnestly as you could. You wanted to help him. There was a sort of pain on his face that you couldn’t stand. His fragility was even more pronounced than your own sorry state.

“ Nonsense, you’ll become ill. Some tea will properly warm you up,” he refuted, averting his gaze.

“ You’ve already set up the fire. Plus I promise if I start feeling bad, I’ll let you know. Okay? Just relax with me, please?” You could see the way he bit his lip, the way he still reached from the doorknob. You continued to look at him, pleading silently. You wanted to make him feel better. You didn’t know how since he was being rather mysterious in why he seemed so upset, but you could try. He huffed loudly, the sound escaping through his nose, and it was then you knew you had won.

So the two of you sat in front of the fire, watching the silver inferno dance, spreading light through over the expanse of your form. Samuel had wrapped a blanket over your shoulders, his way of feeling better about the whole situation. He was rigid as a board, stiff and posture straight. You, on the other hand, settled down to lay on your side, tired of sitting criss crossed. When your face pressed against the plush duvet he had put down, you could feel the tips of his fingers lightly trailing on the nape of your neck. You shuddered slightly, for his touch was cold.

“ What’s got you so freaked out?” you mumbled sleepily. He hummed in response.

“ Nothing really. I’m just concerned for your well-being.”

“ Well, I’ll be fine. You’ve done plenty for me already,” you said lazily, blinking slowly. You wanted to say more, you really did, but you were so tired. The fire was so warm, the pile of pillows so comforting that you could barely fight against the lull of sleep. You found yourself falling asleep quickly.

“ I know… It’s just, you’re so fragile,” he sighed, resting his hand on the crown of your head, cradling it even. Still, you could only laugh in drowsy amusement. He looked at you as if you were crazy, but you couldn’t help the smile playing on your lips.

“ If anything, you’re much more fragile than me, old man,” you said with a yawn before slipping away into complete slumber.

Samuel was much calmer the next few days when he realized that you weren’t on death’s door, but he had been pretty insistent that you stay in his room and not go wandering around the complex as you usually would. You were rightfully annoyed by this, but he was, to no surprise, incredibly stubborn when it came to such matters. The two of you had your first dispute since you had been there over it even, and you had eventually given in once the look of hurt on his face grew too great to ignore. 

He brought you books from the library and meals fresh from the kitchen. You had suggested that you eat in the courtyard like usual, but he had shot that down quickly. Something about it being too cold out there. Instead, he had dragged another table into his bedroom so that you could spend time in there. He hardly left your side for those three days, and when you asked about going back to your own room, he had refused on the grounds that there was no fireplace there. Deep down, you knew that you were probably indulging him too much, so you said that after today, the third day you had been holed up in there, you would go back to wandering around as you pleased.

“ Fine, as you wish,” he gritted out, obviously not happy about it, before turning heel and stalking out to do who knows what. You were left there alone for the first time in what felt like forever, and you sighed with relief. Sliding off his bed, you ban to wander around his space to kill time. You appreciated what he was trying to do, you really did, but you were getting tired of being cooped up here. Plus the utter boredom you were starting to feel was getting on your nerves. You figured that Samuel would be less paranoid about your health once he saw that you were perfectly fine, uninjured, and unriddled with all kinds of ailments. You had tried to give him a bit of grace, but you were running out of patience to keep relenting. 

You were tidying things up a little, just to keep yourself busy. You folded up blankets, pushed in chairs, stacked up some of the books you had gone through. Part of you hoped that it would serve as a peace offering to your friend, making his worries fade if only by a small amount. Eventually you waltzed over to his vanity, arranging the various knickknacks on top of it so they weren’t just strewn about. There were bottles of perfume and powders, some not too unsimilar to the ones you found in the dark, dusty building. You did so mindlessly, until you really focused on the object you had touched. The smooth texture was familiar to you almost immediately, and your eyes widened as you looked down at the music box, the one you had found by the pond. 

You blinked at its appearance, once pastel and gold, colored into a silver, platinum and shimmering version of itself. You dropped it in surprise, the notes within it making a loud clang. Your hands which had held it were in the same color scheme as the entire room.

You gasped nervously as you turned them over, your vibrant skin fading into a much duller color. 

“What?” you whispered shakily. Your mind instantly went to the room full of garbage, the ones from your own world. They were gray, just like the music box, just like the world, just like Samuel, and now just like your fingers. You thought of the trash and why he had chosen to keep it. It would be so easy to chuck them out the moon gate, but instead they were collected there in that building. You swallowed thickly, remembering something that he first said to you.

“ I’m not even sure I can tell you what I was doing before I became part of this place.” 

Samuel said it himself, he used to be like you. Now, though, he couldn’t leave, and everything that ended up in the same coloring got trapped here as well. Were you… were you becoming a part of this world too? 

That night you had returned to your room, and Samuel had reluctantly kept to his word. You were itching to ask him about what was happening to you, but you wanted to keep silent for now and see if anything was off about his demeanor. Yes, he had explained that eventually things lost their color to the gray, but he hadn’t elaborated on how long it took. But it had been around twelve days now, and the music box you had entered with had already turned completely.

When you had gotten dressed this morning, slipping on your socks and shoes, you noticed that your feet had lost their original shade. You were extremely unnerved by this, and when you looked in your vanity mirror, it appeared that your cheeks had been dusted with a silver flush. 

It occurred to you that the fire that he had constantly going while you were in his room had likely masked the fact that you had suddenly started to change in shade, you chalking it up to the lighting. Maybe that was why he hadn’t said anything. 

Regardless, you went to check on the moon gate. You were starting to become anxious to go home. It had been over a week since you had initially wandered out, and you couldn’t help but think of the panic your disappearance must’ve made with not only your family but your friends. How would they feel knowing that you went missing on the way to hang out with them? You sighed, melancholy and longing filling your lungs as you looked out at the only thing that could grant you your exit. 

The gate itself had faded from a half full moon to a waxing crescent. The sliver of light shining upon its surface would likely disappear into complete darkness in a matter of a few days. You were nervous, to say the least. If whatever was happening to you completed before the gate fully opened again, you were never going to go home again. 

“ Samuel, how long did it take for you to, you know, lose all your color?” You hated how blunt you sounded, but you had to know. You were sitting in the library today, cozied up in two plush chairs across from each other. You had been trying to focus on a book you had picked up, but your grayed out hands made it hard to concentrate. He was humming, a small smile on his face, while writing his poetry. 

Your question broke him out of his happy state, him quickly snapping into a worried expression. When he didn’t say anything, you rolled up your sleeve to reveal your problem, fading up your forearm. Over the past three days, you had tried to act as normal as you could, shoving down your concerns in favor of returning to the casual atmosphere you had built before you had wandered into the building with all the trash, but it was harder than you thought it would be. 

“ I’ve been, uh, experiencing this for the past few days, and well, I’m nervous that it’ll spread more before it's my time to leave,” you said awkwardly. Samuel stood up from his chair wordlessly and grabbed onto your wrist, his fingers rubbing over your skin in a soothing and curious manner. 

“ You’re becoming like me,” he said plainly. 

“ Yeah, uh I guess I am. I’ve been meaning to ask you about it, but yeah. Is, uh, is there anything I can do to slow it down? Or make sure that it won’t take over completely before the full moon?”  He winced at your mention of leaving, sadness pooling in his eyes.

“ There’s nothing that can prevent this place from claiming you. You must leave before then, but you should be fine by the time the gate reopens,” he explained dully. “ Would it, would it really be so terrible if you were to stay here with me, though?” You looked up at him, your face completely splattered with shock. You choked out a surprised laugh, like he was making a cruel joke.

“ What? You know I can’t do that Samuel. I have a life that I have to get back to,” You rejected the idea immediately, gently trying to tug your arms out of his grasp. He bit his lip as his chest began to rise and fall more rapidly.

“ I understand. However, you, I believe that if you would just stay,  we could have a life here. One that is just as wonderful as your life on Earth. I know that I’m asking you to give a lot here, but I just, [Name] I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m alone again,” he gasped out his words, squeezing down on your limbs without realizing. A few tears, bright like dying stars, began to slip down his cheeks, falling down and splashing your own frantic hands. Your own heart felt as if it were being slammed against your ribcage, guilt and sorrow bubbling up. 

In the brief period that you had come to know him, you had started to become fond of Samuel. It was a fast forming bond, driven by both of your respective degrees of isolation, and you couldn’t deny the attraction that you felt every time he shyly smiled your way. But this wasn’t some fast forming crush. This was a man asking you to throw your everything away for him, for eternal youth, for eternal nothingness. This wasn’t him asking you to become a trusted friend or even a lover, he was asking you to be his whole world. You wondered if he was only offering to become yours because that was the only thing he had to give. 

“ I’m really sorry, but I have to go home,” you said as resolutely as you could, but you couldn’t help the small cracks in your voice creeping in. Your refusal devastated the man, and he let out a few sobs and sank to his knees, placed his head in your lap, and softly cried into you for what felt like hours. All the while he quietly mumbled his pleas for you to reconsider, for you to stay, to witness all he could promise you.

When you didn’t do anything other than caress his head in an effort to calm him, he shambled up to his feet, wiped off his tears with his sleeves, weakly said goodbye, and turned to leave the room. You sat there for a while, staring at the emptiness that flowed in after him, and you thought of how everyday must’ve been like this for him. There was nothing but regret and anxiety of whether or not the right decision had been made everyday for decades upon decades. You felt bad, you truly did, because it was a miserable existence frankly, and part of you worried that if you did stay, you would eventually succumb to that crippling loneliness even with Samuel with you. That you would lose your color, and you would become like the garbage holed up in that room.

The next day, when you cautiously ambled out of your bedroom, you were immediately hit with the scent of flowers. The entire hall was filled with vases and pots containing all kinds of floral arrangements and species. All shimmering and gray, but beautiful nonetheless. 

“ You could have this everyday if you wanted,” his voice startled you, and you jumped when you realized that he was practically leaning over you. You had been too distracted by the plants to notice him emerging from his room, and you assumed that he had been listening for when you would emerge from your own. 

“ Samuel… Please,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “ I understand your feelings, but you gotta also get that I need to go home. I made that clear yesterday,” you pleaded with him as you brushed by his figure, stalking off to make a meal for yourself. He followed suit, hardly a step behind you.

You went through the curtain and began to pull out various pans and utensils, trying to figure out exactly what it was you wanted to make in the first place when he came in and took a spatula that was in your hand. You protested weakly, trying to grab it back, but he pushed you to sit at the table as you normally would. You crossed your arms, quirking a brow at him in clear annoyance.

“ Uh, what do you think you’re doing?”

“ I’m making you breakfast. I know you wanted to split the meal making duties, but I can take over from now on,” he explained, moving to pull out ingredients from the fridge. “ You won’t ever have to lift a finger again. If you stay, that is.”

You ate breakfast with him, because what else was there to do, with a very strange atmosphere. The man kept asking if the food was good, if you were comfortable, asking if you wanted to go to his room where he knows you would be comfortable if you would just let him take you there. His confession, as vague as it was, and your rejection had dialed up his clinginess to the max.

“ I’m going to the drawing room,” you said after dumping a clean plate on a drying rack. Samuel was hovering over you, leaving you slightly pinned to the counter you were working on. You slid past him as best you could, but an arm shot out to prevent you from going any further.

“ I think you should stay here, in the courtyard with me.”

“ I’ll be fine by myself. I need a bit of space right now,” you shrugged him off, trying to ignore the way his face lit up in momentary anger, something that you hadn’t really seen before on his sweet appearance. He ignored your request to be left alone, by the way. He followed you to the drawing room, remarking about how lovely the complex was, how it could be more beautiful if the two of you just cleaned all of the empty rooms. How if you stayed that would be a real possibility. 

You sat there silently, trying to ignore him as best as you could. You were doodling again, and this time instead of sitting himself opposite of you, Samuel decided to cozy up beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder and watching with mild interest as you sketched. His breath was warm on your skin, but you stayed quiet. You hated how flustered he made you feel even now when you were clearly frustrated by his clinginess. Part of it was because you truly couldn’t be fully mad at him. He was lonely, desperate for the first bit of human contact in who knows how long to stay with him, and you couldn’t really fault him for being so devastated by your exit from his life. 

If there was a way where he could come back with you, you were sure that you would have thrown caution to the wind and explored your growing crush on the handsome man. You wished things had been different; that he was just a boy you had known and quickly grown close to on campus or somewhere around your town. 

“ You’re quite good at that,” he said. You called bullshit; Your art was a mess of ink splotches and squiggly lines that you cobbled together to resemble the flowers and the hallways that surrounded you. You hardly put any effort into it, and anyone would be a fool to say it was anything more than a way to pass the time.

“ I can do portraits, you know. If you would sit down, I could draw up the two of us. There are some oil paints around here somewhere, so I could paint it as well,” he offered, his arms slowly moving to wrap you in an embrace. You shrugged him off with a bit of reluctance.  His touch was comforting, but you had to create a fine line between the two of you. Leaving would be harder otherwise. 

“ I’m alright,” you responded curtly. You could feel his lips against your skin form into a frown, and he brought up a hand to turn you head. You startled a bit, but his eyes bore into yours with a frightening amount of intensity. A cold fear settled into your stomach.

“ Please,” was all he said, and all you could do was meekly nod.

Samuel had you sit down in a room with a large amount of windows to paint your portrait. He had given you an outfit that was far more ornate than anything you had worn in the previous week and a half and sat you down on a plush, comfortable chair. He had surrounded you with flowers, petals sitting at your feet and scattered across your lap. Satin, ribbons hung from your wrists, neck, and ankles. He had tied them after you had been dressed, a small, fond smile settling on the lines of his face as he held onto your limbs gently. 

“ You look absolutely lovely,” he said, content as he moved in front of the canvas. 

“ Uh thanks I guess.”

“ Have you ever had your portrait taken?” he asked, holding up a brush between poised fingers. 

“ Not really. I mean I’ve had my picture taken at school,” you shrugged. You wished he would stop staring at you, dissecting you with his fluttering eyelashes. Your skin had continued to gray at an alarming rate, and you could not ignore the panic that had gripped you. You were trying to trust what he had said about you not turning completely before the full moon came, but it was hard to just brush off the sudden way your appearance was changing. 

You had checked the moon gate the night before, passing by it under the pretense of going to the library. You weren’t sure why, but you no longer felt comfortable simply telling Samuel about your true intentions anymore. Before he had asked you to stay the first time, you would simply inform him of where you would be. Sure, he would likely show up to stick by your side before long, but he hadn’t actively stopped you from going anywhere until then. But yesterday with his insistence that you stay with him in the courtyard and his tailing you all through the complex was the beginning of a new pattern that you were certain that you didn’t like.

When you had first woken up this morning, he was sitting outside of your door in the hall. It wasn’t unusual before, but now it felt like a calculated step he took to make sure that every second of your day was spent with him. It was then that he had given you a silken shirt and pair of pants and pulled you into a room with windows that went all the way to the ceiling.

But the moon gate, it had passed from the new moon into the sliver of a crescent. It wouldn’t be long before you could go home. You had to keep reassuring yourself of that. Maybe twelve days or so more? Six until the half moon appeared again for sure. You sighed, trying to focus on anything other than his gaze.

“ Picture? Ah, I recall that being a new thing before I came here. Is it more common in your time?” he asked. 

“ Yeah, uh I’d say they are. Like super common actually. I wish I had brought my phone with me. I think you would have, uh, I think you would’ve enjoyed seeing all the stuff on there,” you laughed weakly. He hummed in response. The room was filled with the sound of paint being rubbed onto canvas. His eyes flitted between the you he was creating and your own fidgeting figure. You wondered if he was having trouble with you not being completely still. After a few moments of him being focused on his task, you let your mind wander. It must’ve gone a bit too far, though, because soon you found yourself voicing a question that you had been holding since a few days in.

“ Hey, if we hadn’t met here, like if we met back on Earth and all, would you have liked me?” Samuel froze, his small smile halting into one of shock. He tore away from his art and fully faced you, truly taking in your petulant expression and pinched brows.

“ Of course,” he said without hesitation, and you sighed.

“ But like, why? I mean, can you really say that if you had met me without being here by yourself for so long, you would be like this with me?” you asked. He stared blankly. He hadn’t tried to think about it. It was plain to see from his silent floundering. Part of you knew that he didn’t really want to answer your question, for anything he said would probably be untrue to some extent. Deep down he knew the way he clung to you wasn’t natural. Deep down he knew that if you hadn’t met under such circumstances, he probably wouldn’t feel as desperate or deeply about you. If he thought otherwise, he would be lying. He had to because to some extent you felt the same way. 

“ Does it matter?”

“ What do you mean?”

“ I don’t think it really matters. We didn’t meet on Earth because we weren’t supposed to. You came to me now, here. There’s a reason for that, you know. I haven’t felt much of anything lately, yet you, you came here. You’re with me now. I know you don’t wish to stay, but you have to agree that this is fate. That’s all I need to be certain of my affections for you,” Samuel looked at you with such fondness, and you couldn’t help but ache. You wanted to believe him so badly that it hurt, that this was meant to be, that you were meant to stay. He walked over to you, his hands reaching up to cradle your face like you were made out of porcelain, his finger pushing down on your lower lip. 

He leaned in for a kiss no doubt, but you turned quickly, your figure curling up on itself in discomfort. He kissed your jaw gently, trying to make his way towards your mouth, but you pushed gently on his chest while quietly saying “no”.  He reared back before homing in close once again, chasing after your affection. Still, you screwed your eyes shut and stood from your seat, breaking away from his touch.

“ [Name] please-”

“ Samuel, You have to stop. This is going nowhere. I care about you, really, and I, I also like you in that way, but it’s just not going to happen. I have to go home, and that’s it,” it hurt to say those words. You wanted fate, you wanted a person that you were destined to be with, but it couldn’t be like this. You had tried so hard to leave your shell, to go out and enjoy life while making friends and experiencing everything to falling in love to the joyful chaos of university. You needed that too, and you couldn’t get it if you stayed here. 

“ No, no, you’re not understanding me. I need you here, please. I can’t be alone again!” He cried, chasing after you as you began to exit the room. As you stalked off, fighting tears along the way, you began to undo the ribbons that he had tied to your wrists, discarding them in the ground in your wake. He scrambled to pick them up, calling your name.

“ [Name] [Name] [Name] “

You shoved your hands over your ears in a desperate attempt to drown out his increasingly panicked voice. You were practically running down the hallways, racing to reach your room. Your feet thudded against the creaking floorboards, his even louder ones following suit.

“ I’m sorry!” You shouted, your throat hoarse with fear and sadness. You slid in front of your doorway, quickly heading inside before shutting and locking it behind you. You could hear Samuel’s body slam into it, his fists pounding against it.

“ [Name]! Please let me in! I didn’t wish to frighten you! Just let me make it up to you! Please I swear I wasn’t attempting to force you. I just, I simply wanted you to understand my feelings,” he begged, his breathing rapid. 

“ Go away,” you said loudly, backing away slightly. He kept on hitting the door, the handle jiggling with his attempts to get in. 

“ [Name] open the door please. Please, I can make you understand.”

“ Go away!” you repeated, a bit more loudly this time. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He didn’t stop though. In fact his actions only became more frantic, and you could see the way the door began to shake with every slam he made against it, the wood shaking against his hinges.

You had begun crying, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sank to the floor, curling into yourself as you sobbed out. He must’ve heard you crying because he was practically trying to break his way into your room.

“ [Name]! Let me in! Please! Just give me a chance! I love you! PLEASE!,” he frantically called as the banging continued. 

SLAM

“ Let me in!”

SLAM

“[NAME]! PLEASE!” He was sobbing too.

SLAM

“ I LOVE YOU! LET ME IN!”

“ GO AWAY!” you screamed, louder than you think you had ever screamed in your entire life. Your body shook as you cried into your knees, and you felt like you were going to throw up, but the terror outside your room had stopped suddenly. 

The quiet was unnerving, and it lasted for a while. You sniffled as the minutes ticked by, trembling as you looked at his shadow coming in from under your door. He was just sitting there, waiting for you to say something, to come out, to fall into his arms and allow yourself to be swept up by the dream-like romance that you knew we wanted to sweep you up in. But you stayed still out of pure fear of what he would do to you once you left the room. You could hear his slightly ragged breaths, waiting to have you in his hold once more.

“ If you wish to stay in there,” he said after a long period of no words passing between you,” It’s okay. I’ll be here for you, and you’ll understand how I feel then.” His words were ominous, and they sent shivers down your spine. 

You couldn’t really believe that this was the sweet and gentle man you had come to know over the past couple two weeks, but then again that was hardly enough time to truly know someone. You felt stupid, being swept up in the way he treated you, in how beautiful this place was and how sweetly he spoke your name. You wanted to make it work. You wanted to believe that this was just a weird dream that was going on for too long. Oddly, part of you still felt guilty over not being able to give yourself to someone who was so lonely, someone who yearned that deeply for connection. You could be that missing piece to make his life whole, but you’d be sacrificing yours in the process. You couldn’t, it was as plain as that, and yet you still wanted to make him happy.

The Samuel that you had started to like, the one who looked at you like you were everything, was not truly real though. The real him was partly that, but he was also desperate and wild to a degree that frightened you greatly. You couldn’t live like that, not after how he reacted. So even if there were still some feelings for him there, there was no way you could let them get in the way of you going home.

He had sat right up against your door for the entire night, and you had fearfully allowed yourself to slip into a fitful sleep pressed up against the wall in your bed. In the morning, you awoke to him knocking.

“ I told you, you would never have to lift a finger again. I made you breakfast. If you open the door it’s here for you,” he chuckled slightly. You didn’t fail to notice the unstableness in his voice as you clutched your blanket closer to yourself. 

“I’ll, I’ll go to my room, just make sure that you eat something. I don’t want you to starve,” he sighed after you didn’t answer. You could hear the clanging of silverware and plates being set down before the tell tale creaks of the floor board gave way to his location. Indeed, he had stepped away, but that didn’t mean you could afford to be flippant about the matter. You approached the exit to your room slowly, unlocking it with a soft click before you opened it in a hurry and snatched up the meal. You locked it back in place almost immediately after, staying alert in case Samuel decided to come running for you. To your relief, he stayed put.

You swallowed down the food as best as you could, but you couldn’t finish most of it. You decided that you would leave the plate on your vanity for later as the more you could avoid having to leave your room, the better. You caught a glance at your appearance in the mirror, and you were alarmed to see that the silver had spread up pretty much all the way to your biceps. It was taking over you quickly. You shakily sighed as you tried to stave off the rest of the time by reading some books that you had left in there from the previous few days. 

Samuel tried to coax you out with lunch a couple hours later, but since you had your plate, you stayed inside and ignored it.

“[Name], please… You’re not taking care of yourself. If you would let me in, I could help you,” he said, but again you stayed quiet. He was a bit more stable than the night prior, though, so instead of screaming at you to come out, he began to read off some poetry that he had been writing. You assumed that it was all from the period after your arrival, recalling how he would be jotting down imagery with a serene expression while you lazed about. You missed how it had been, even if it hadn’t been all too long ago. 

Eventually, his voice grew hoarse from speaking to no one for hours, and you heard him dejectedly bidding you goodnight, once again leaving you with silence.

The next day carried out much the same, and you found yourself growing increasingly paranoid. You didn’t want to stay in your room the entire time. Your books had been read and the gate needed to be checked on, but you were certain that if you stepped out of your safe haven, Samuel would be there ready to do who knows what.

That day, he had spent many hours telling you of how he envisioned a life with you to be, and you became increasingly aware of the notion that he might be planning to prevent you from leaving the realm all together. 

“ We shall sit here and discuss everything and nothing,” he laughed to himself.” Why, we’d be like those scholars in the library! Perhaps you and I could write books together. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” 

As much as his words disturbed you, it did give you an idea. After he retired to bed, you devised a slight plan to visit the library once more. Perhaps there was something there that could offer you an answer about what this place was and maybe even how to slow down its claim over you. So that night, you opened your window carefully and climbed out to land on the barren expanse of silver ground that surrounded the complex. 

The floorboards in the hall would give away your activity in no time, but if you sneaked in through the outside ground, then you could slip into the library undetected. There hadn’t really been any reason to leave the carefully maintained halls until now, but now you were offered a more covert way to traverse through the buildings. 

You quietly skirted on the edges of the property until you gently climbed up onto the wooden pathway. Hopefully you were far enough away from the bedrooms that the slight creaking wouldn’t be too much of a give away. It seemed that you were correct in this assessment, for you were able to rifle through books in the library undisturbed for the first time in what felt like a long while. You were a bit desperate in combing through the knowledge available, though you were careful to put everything back in its place lest Samuel figure out that you had managed to sneak in without him seeing. 

You pulled out journals about the phases of the moon, star maps, novels that looked as if they had been read by him on multiple occasions. You found nothing of use. Frustrated, tired, and scared beyond imagination, you gripped your head in your hands. You surveyed the place, eyes roaming over the shelves upon shelves of information until a slight glint caught your eye. It was something shining between two heavy books, the light from outside hitting it perfectly. You would’ve never really seen it if you hadn’t been scrutinizing the room so intensely, and you quickly made your way over to whatever was shimmering so brightly. It was really just a sliver of reflection, hardly noticeable, but when you inspected it further you found a key, metal and shiny despite a small amount of grime covering it. 

 You turned the object over in your palm curiously and quickly placed it within your pocket. Something told you that whatever answers you sought were somehow connected to this simple piece of metal.

With that you quickly scurried off to your room once more.

“ I know you’d be sacrificing a lot,” Samuel said to you on the third day of locking yourself in your room. The gate had opened up a considerable amount since he had exploded in anguish, and you could tell that he was trying even more desperately to get you to stay of your own volition.

“ You have friends and a family…But I could be both of those for you. You would be the same for me. We could be each other's everything, you know. If you would just give me a chance to prove how wonderful we’d be, I’d make it worth your time.” You could hear the gentle movement of pen over paper, of a broom sweeping down the hall, of his breaths. He would spend his whole time there, luring you with honeyed promises of a romantic and satisfied life, but his frightening behavior made you sure that your days here would be anything but that. If he had you, he would never let you go. This realm was much the same. 

With that terrifying fact in mind, you knew that you had to figure out where the key led into. Its neglected state told you it had to be a place that Samuel hadn’t bothered with for a long time, and there was really only one place that fit that desolate description. While he waxed on about how good he would be to you, how he would worship you if you truly wished, you  thought of that hallway filled with locked doors. Considering how long he had been here, there might be some things of some long gone era including the remnants of a stable Samuel.

Later that night, when you snuck out again, you stared out over the vast silver nothingness. If you weren’t so terrified that there wasn’t anything but the complex, you would have taken off running into it. Your window, which was very high up by the way, looked down on your shifty form.  

The old building loomed in all its dim glory like a beacon in a sea of darkness, and you approached with much caution. The key in your silver palm sat heavy with years of unknown history. The stars watched from above as you gripped onto the wooden railing that decorated the edges of the halls. The carved wooden leaves and flora pressed into your skin, leaving indents in their image. Like many times before, the floor creaked with each step you took. Here, you were less worried about Samuel hearing you as it was so removed from everything else. Here, you could breathe a little more. Your silk shirt didn’t feel as stifling, and you shook a little less. 

You yanked on the handles of the doors, shocked to find that they didn’t budge. Shit, he must’ve locked it at some point. You sighed, part out of anger and part out of fear, and stepped back. If you couldn’t get in the normal way, then some alternative methods were needed. 

So, that’s how you ended up crawling through the window at the back of the building. It was an awkward action, your stomach pressing uncomfortably onto the ledge. You hung there for a moment, trying to shimmy inside before you fell ungracefully onto the floor with a large thud. You froze there as a few moments passed by. Part of you was waiting for Samuel to come storming into the building, for him to unleash a torrent of tears and desperation upon you. Silence passed. There was no thundering pace, and no calling of your name from a man starved of stability. You placed a hand to your chest, gasping in relief and at your aching muscles. 

There wasn’t much time, not much that you were comfortable spending out here from the safety of your room, that is, to properly look through every room in here for a clue on your condition and how to leave. You glanced at the door not too far from you, slightly ajar from your last visit to this place. If that one held things that were more contemporary, then wouldn't it be safe to assume that the ones closest to the main entrance were the oldest?

You shakily stood on your feet while using the wall as your guide. You pulled out the key as you picked the nearest one to the front of the building You slotted in the key, and much to your relief, the door swung open with an ancient sounding creak. The smell of age immediately hit your nose, and your face wrinkled in disgust. This place had not been touched in a while. Unlike the one you had seen a week ago, the room looked as if it had been left as was. The furniture seemed to be in their proper places, and there weren’t random objects strewn about. The only things that could make it messy was the amount of dust coating over every surface and the odd few stacks of books on the floor.  

You quickly walked over to the vanity, rifling through the drawers. There was makeup. Hairpins, brushes, some old pots of congealed ink, but nothing of much note. You threw open the wardrobe to find some fraying clothes that looked nothing like the ones either you or Samuel wore. You gently pinched the sleeve of the faded shirt, the old cotton rolling limply between your fingers. How long ago had he slipped these on? Since he had gone around wandering the world as he wished? You couldn’t imagine the outfit you wore when you came here being sealed away like this.

You frowned deeply. The memories these pieces of old cloth must’ve held…It made you truly wonder what he had given up to be a part of this place. You dropped it and continued to look on for what else was in the wardrobe. There was a box holding a well worn pair of leather shoes, some gloves, and a crumpled up jacket that sat dejectedly in a pile. You rifled through them with haste, frantically looking through them. Within the pocket of the jacket, you felt the fragile texture of aged paper, and you quickly pulled it out.

Underneath the silver moonlight, you could see faded ink looping in their delicate chain, spelling out a sweet Dear Samuel.

I hope this finds you well…

It was hard to make out any of the words on the rest of the page. You furrowed your brows as you tried to piece together prose that had long since lost meaning. There were parts where the parchment had wavered under what you had assumed to be tears, places where it had been crumpled by how tightly it had been gripped, soft and limp from how many times it had been folded. It was well loved, and now, judging by its resting place, it had been forgotten. 

There was nothing to learn from it, much to your frustration. You sighed shakily as you carefully folded up the old letter and tucked it away again. You pressed your face to your palms and let out a low groan. There had to be something that could help you, you were sure of that, but whatever it was had been hidden away. Either that or it was just in a different room. 

So you went to the second door by the entrance. It was much like the one you had just been in before, except this one had a more noticeable air of clutter. There were books everywhere, strewn about in haphazard manner with pages falling out of bindings and ink splashed out across the floorboards. On the desk pressed against the wall was a worn journal, the paper in it bulging out from use.

It was by itself, illuminated by the light from the window, with little else sharing its space. You rushed over to it, before flipping over to a random page.

Today has been an eventful day. Father says that soon Mother, Charlotte, and I shall depart for the city soon. He says that there is work to be found there, and that my brother has found us occupation and housing. It must be quite nice to be familiar with the lively atmosphere. I hold little doubt that such a large number of individuals will suit my character in an unfavorable manner, yet I find that there is little I can do to protest such a sudden decision. Mother is elated for me to finally join brother and father, sister is excited to go to school in a more fashionable location, and my father is simply content to provide. By all means this is an opportunity that I am certain some would be green for, and yet I feel a sense of unease.

For if I leave this town, what will become of this place?

You visibly recoiled from the information. You knew that he had a life before this. It had been mentioned and hinted at many times before this moment, but to actually have it confirmed? It was unsettling. You nervously shut the journal, the leather and paper making a soft thud, and quickly left the room. From there you left the same way you came in, the rusty key and book tucked safely in your arms.

The next day , you sat on the floor of your room hunched over the little book. Samuel scratched at the door now; his fingernails swooping as he spoke weakly.

“ I understand, you know. I do, I really do, but I simply think you’re being unreasonable now. It’s been days since you’ve come out. I miss you [Name], and I know you miss me too,” he drawled. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, and you could practically picture the way dark lines would hang heavily in his otherwise perfect visage. You hoped that his appearance had become akin to that of his words: sick and uncanny.

You pressed your fingers into your temple in an attempt to drown him out. Your brows were furrowed in concentration, trying desperately to focus and make out the looping cursive on the page. You sighed in frustration. You really should’ve paid more attention in classes.

As the move to the city approaches, I find myself increasingly conflicted. There is little reason as to why I should be so opposed, yet I am inextricably reluctant to go. I sit in this pavilion unknown to my family in contemplation, for I have become convinced that this solitude is more befitting of my character. I would have accommodation, food, entertainment, everything an individual would need to live a life of fulfillment and esteem. Additionally, I would achieve every son’s greatest dream: removing the burden of oneself from their parents.

I should consider taking this place as my permanent residence.

It felt wrong reading this. The only thing you could compare it to was watching back footage of a car crash before the collision actually happened. Your silence was a palpable response, and you could feel his unease oozing from into the small gap under your door. 

“ [Name], I hope you know that you still have a few days to change your mind. I’ll be here for you, throughout the whole process and everything. I know it can be frightening, but when you become like me, I’ll treat you so well that you won’t even know why you resisted me,” he laughed lowly, and you seized with fear. Your chest heaved slowly as you hung on the action of flipping a page. 

“ Please just… please just leave me alone,” you said tiredly. His weight shifted under the floorboards, the wood creaking, and he pressed his palms up against the wall outside. You could hear it, no, you could practically feel his eyes wildly searching for signs of you. His breathing was heavy, unhinged, and absolutely terrifying. You winced back from the entrance to your room. There was no telling what he would do to get in, and you had a sneaking suspicion that the door was only a decorative obstacle for him. There was no way he wasn’t desperate enough to not have tried breaking in, and that scared you so much. 

He was so sure of himself, and you did not miss the certainty in his words. When you become like him. When he would comfort you. There was no ‘If’ anymore, no attempt to conceal his certainty. Did he think that he could physically stop you from leaving? When the gate opened, he would probably do everything in his power to stop you from going. 

“ [Name]”

You ignored him in favor of digging further into his past life. He wasn’t satisfied, though. You could feel the way his shoulders heaved in your bones, how he bored his gaze onto silver wood, the way his tongue rolled with your name like a curse. 

He was quiet after that, and you watched as the shadows underneath your door shifted back. Your stomach churned in discomfort, the acid burning and warm as it crawled up your throat ever so slightly. There was no way that you could do this everyday; no way that you could sit there as he hovered around desperately for the rest of your life, or the rest of whatever it was you’d be leading if you did stay.

I have never been humiliated in such a manner as I have in this moment. I confessed my feelings of our departure to the city, how little it appealed to me and all, to my father. I’ve never seen him so cross, so cold towards me. I have always held suspicion that my family did not hold a level of affection towards me as they did to each other, but it seems that I have had to reach this unfortunate conclusion. 

He called me a drain on the fortune he had worked so hard to come across. I know that I write this in a calmer state of mind, but it took everything within me to not burst into tears right then and there. I’m in the pavilion again, and I believe that I should spend the night here. I’ve never done so before, despite all the time I do lay around in these halls. 

He’d never spent the night before? Your face twisted into confusion. That can’t… That didn’t make any sense. Did the gate function differently when he first arrived?

“[Name]...You can’t stay in there forever. If you would just speak to me, I could make this right. I promise,” Samuel mumbled out. You flipped to another page. Another day. Another tainted memory of his.

It’s been a week. I haven’t the heart to return. I suppose that my family has likely departed to the city without me being there. I wish them well, truly, and I hope they feel my support from this place. 

Perhaps I am a coward, for I cannot find the courage to go beyond here and truly apologize nor tell them that my well being is secure. I instead choose to sit around and lament. Truly my self hatred knows no bounds. Part of me imagines that my family shall scorn me for my behavior, the other thinks that they would be indifferent. They’ve never cared to know where I have gone off and disappeared before now, and I don’t believe that they’ll suddenly give a damn. 

The bitterness was palpable, and you winced as you read. The Samuel in the ink was far more antisocial than you would have ever assumed him to be; It was jarring with the way his honey dipped words tried to sway you from outside your safe spot. You swallowed thickly as you tried to imagine him with a cold and disdainful look when you came here. Had he wallowed in this awful self hatred for all this time? There was another series of soft taps on the door, ones that you vaguely recognized being that of the music box on your vanity. 

“ I promise that everyday will always be interesting. That you’ll never be bored, or suffer from loneliness. It’ll be the two of us, and I swear that I’ll make you happy. Please, won’t you please just let me see your face,” he paused, waiting for you to say something (as if there was any chance in hell that you would do that again). “ I just want to see you, see if you’ve become even more like this place and me. You can confide in me, you know.”

Had you grown more silver? The panic of the past few days had deterred you from really caring about your appearance, so the mirror in your room didn’t seem to hold much purpose. Not to mention, you were so fucking scared of what was happening to you. You could already see that the shimmering greyscale had already coated your calves and your fingers entirely, but there were large expanses of your skin that had been covered by clothing.

You slowly stood so as to not make too much noise, and carefully peered into the reflective surface that sat pressed up against the wall. You gingerly brought your hands up to your face as you stared with a mix of dismay and awe. The color had covered half of your features at this point, your eyes maintaining their color. In the meantime your hair had turned a mix of gray and silver from the ends up until just before your roots like a dye job that looked a few months overdue for a retouch. Your breath caught in your throat as you inhaled sharply. It had spread so quickly over these past couple of days…Why? Why had it done that? Was it going to completely take over you before the gate opened? No, because otherwise Samuel would’ve said something. He would’ve noted how this place took hold of him before he could go home, because he said he went home in that journal. Right?

You practically threw yourself to the floor, not caring anymore if he heard you. The Journal had to have some answers. You opened it to a random spot, eyes frantically roaming over the dates and times. The one to which you settled on seemed to be two weeks away from the last one you read. 

My clothes that I wore when I came here have faded completely into this wonderful silver color, and my skin seems to have begun doing the same. I am intrigued by this greatly, and I am interested in how it should progress. I suppose that it would be an interesting endeavor to see how it spans out fully, for I have not seen any deterioration within the objects that I have brought with me. I can only assume that I shall not be harmed by this process. 

I have been missing the company of Mother and Charlotte, and I have been reminiscing on the argument with father as well. I doubt that they stayed within town. The opportunity in the city greatly outweighs any effect my disappearance could have possibly made. I think that after I observe what happens to myself here, I shall leave and go find them. 

Perhaps my findings here could bring me some fortune… In any case, I must sincerely apologize to them. I suppose that this experiment of mine is just delaying the inevitable, but I’ll find them. I’ll make this right, just after this is all. 

I do love them. I hope that I may be forgiven. 

His fate was spelled out for you so plainly, and the irony was so palpable that it could’ve been in a movie. This didn’t feel real, like a story that was unfolding in real time. The shy but remorseful boy painted by words was nothing like the man only a few feet away.

But looking at the dates… This was all in the span of a month. It mirrored your situation very closely, except you were aware of the consequences of what would happen if you actually let the silver coloring consume you entirely. Some sick part of you felt a little guilty. Guilty that you had the chance to get out, guilty that if you did, you would leave him here. It didn’t really make much sense to you, but you thought of how he must’ve been before you came here: lamenting over his family he never had the chance to properly say goodbye to, wishing that he had done something different, wishing that he had someone there to stave off the crushing weight of nothingness that was this place. He had hoped and waited for a chance like you to appear, and this would probably be the last time he would get one. For a long time anyways. When you left, if you left, he’d be destroyed. That fact alone was awful, but it wasn’t your fault and you needed to go home. 

But… the more you read and the more you thought it over, why did it feel like he could’ve left at any time?

You let out a small laugh as it dawned on you. The journal didn’t go back too far, but it made sense, didn’t it? He didn’t spend the night here, he wasn’t forced to stay here until the next full moon. He chose to stay here, and he felt guilty for it too. Then why couldn’t you go?

Another page. Another utterance of your name from beyond the door.

I’ve been monitoring the progress of this process for a week now. It was a slow process in the beginning, yet I found that as the days have gone by, it has spread quite quickly. I find that I can no longer tell the difference from before I’ve gone through this transformation in regards to my surroundings . I believe that it will be a bit jarring to see such vibrancy . The new moon has passed. It won’t be long until I can return. It is my sincerest hope that my family will understand this erratic decision of mine.

You moved on to another day, skipping a few other entries. This one, you noted, was different from the others. The ink was smudged, and there were small indents that had the words run ever so slightly. Tears, if your shaky guess was correct. The loops of cursive was messier than anything that you had seen him write before, not even the hurried poetry he would jot down on the crisp days, sitting in a drawing room while you lazed about. There was a heaviness as you gently rolled the stiff paper between the pads in your fingers. You inhaled deeply through your nose, steadying yourself for something that felt monumental.

I’ve failed.

I can’t go back. The gate was wide enough for me to go through. I should have been able to go through. What have I done? Father and Mother I want to see them. I want to go back.

Is there a way to go back? I’ll have to see. Maybe when the full moon comes I can leave. It’s never done this before. I could always leave as long as the light part of the gate was large enough. I even put my hand through it the other day. Why? Why now? I’ve been trying for hours.

I can go back. I have to go back. I’m so exhausted, and my vision is so blurred I can barely see what I’m writing. 

I should go to sleep. I’ll try again tomorrow when I wake.

You inhaled sharply. He could leave? The entire time?

“ [Name]...You understand right?”

You looked up sharply, your chest rising and falling rapidly. How could you have been so stupid? He lied. It was as plain as day, and you fell for it. 

“ You never planned to let me go, did you?” Samuel didn’t say anything this time. Your voice had wavered slightly, hurt seeping into your question. Though, you weren’t really asking. You gulped slightly, choosing your next words carefully. “ You were just going to lock me here once the full moon came, right? Because after that, I’d have to stay here forever. With you.”

You didn’t dare to reveal that you knew that you’d be fully taken by the silver before then. That you could leave before then. You just wanted to hear him admit it. Admit that this entire time, while you had been struggling with the guilt of leaving him behind, he had never intended to let you go in the first place. From the moment he met you, from the moment he shattered porcelain across his feet, he had decided that you were his. You choked back a small sob, to hold back the tears of anger. 

You were leaving tonight. The gate should be wide enough for you to squeeze through by now, and based on the state of your skin, this would likely be the last chance that you had to escape. You smoothed back your hair from your face, your entire body shaking with nerves.

“ Do you know what it was like?” He asked, steady and emotionless. “ Everyday, with every book in here read? Every thought I had already written down? I lived with 100 years of nothingness. My main joy in life was to find garbage. And everyday, I hoped that I could leave, or that something in this fucking place would just change for once.”

“ And I thought that, eventually, I would die and finally be able to leave this place. But nothing, NOTHING ever happened! And I thought that I had come to peace with that, I truly did. But when you appeared that day, I felt like all this time I’ve wasted, all these thoughts and feelings that I could never do anything with, they weren’t useless. You gave me a reason to start looking forward to waking up, to cooking, to living again. You were the answer to everything [Name]. You are my reward for suffering here by myself for all of this time.”

You sat there, cold sweat clamming up your palms as you scooted back on the floor. Samuel laughed lowly, and this time, you couldn’t picture what he looked like. The sound was so sinister in a way that was so unlike anything before.

“ So no, I’m not letting you leave. I never intended you to,” he said plainly. “ Everything I promised you, it’s still yours. My loyalty, my love, my everything…It belongs to you as yours does to me. Soon, we shall be equal in more ways than one, and you’ll understand. I promise.”

Hours had passed since then, and you sat on the floor of your room with your back pressed against the cold, hard wall. The journal was held tightly to your chest as you kept your eyes trained on the door, blinking ever so slightly from exhaustion and nodding off in fitful bouts of sleep. The sudden movement of your head lolling to the side would jerk you out of “rest” that would find you. Honestly, you didn’t know how you hadn’t broken into hysterics by this point. Same went for throwing up as your stomach felt like a blackhole, collapsing in on itself in a swirl of bile, fear, and the small amount of food that you had reluctantly accepted.

But Samuel hadn’t moved from his spot. After his sudden outburst, you had heard him softly crying against the wood of your door. Whispering your name, saying how happy he was that you were here. Eventually, he slumped down with drowsiness, snoring quietly and mumbling “[Name]”, breathing it like it was air. You waited and waited, hoping that he would fall far enough under slumber that he wouldn’t notice the light creaking of the floorboards as you found your way to your shaky feet and approached the window. 

The cold, dry air dusted over your skin as you gripped the sill, preparing yourself to hoist yourself over for what you prayed would be the last time. You looked back at the small amount of light coming from the small crack under the entrance, and the way his shadow stretched underneath it. Your chest squeezed with empathy despite it all, like you were leaving behind a toy at the store that you decided to not take home after all. But at the end of the day, you had your reasons, and to stay here was sentencing yourself to misery. You turned back to the starry sky and took in a large gasp of air before you pressed up against the floor to finally put this all behind you.

Suddenly, the maws of pain closed in on your ankle as you fell to the ground with a loud thud. The splintering feeling radiating from your foot was accompanied with a loud crack as you realized the floor had broken under you. Horror raced up your spine as the sharp barbs of wood dug into your skin. 

“ Shit, shit shit!” you hissed out as you hurriedly sat up and began to wrench your leg out of the newly formed hole.                   

“[Name]?” Samuel called your name drowsily, concern hiding behind his slurred words. His dark figure cloaked yours in shadow as he shifted. You let out a panicked grunt as you pulled hard on your stuck foot. The splintered wood formed gashes on your silver skin, the blood shining bright red against the greyscale night, ruby and glittering. You stared breathlessly, your vision blurring with awe and illness. How could it be so beautiful? 

There was banging on the door, far louder than any attempts he made in the past. That shook you out of your pain induced stupor in a second, and you began kicking wildly to get out. You had to get out. Out of this hole, out of this room, out of this world and fast.

“[Name]? What happened?” He asked while jiggling the handle violently. “ [Name]!? Answer me!” 

There were thundering footsteps, the drumming of your heartbeat and pulse, and shouts of your name. It was so loud and frantic, and you screamed in agony as you finally ripped your ankle free from the fragmented wood just as the door was thrown open with a large crash. You scrambled up as Samuel stood in the doorway, looking at the crimson splattered across the ground and your hands. 

His front was hidden by the lack of light that graced his shoulders instead, but in that split second you could see how disheveled he had become. His face gaunt with worry and mania, his posture hunched and yearning. This was not the man you had felt the spark of attention for. This was a monster determined to drag you down with him. 

“[Name]!” he cried as you ambled up. The adrenaline coursing through you stamped out the agony that radiated up your form, made you ignore the way you trembled, told you to get the fuck out of there. His arms reached to circle you in a damning embrace, but you slapped him away as best as you could.

“ Don’t Touch me!” you screeched, but he continued to advance. You stumbled up against your vanity, pressed up against hard floral carving as you palmed around behind for anything solid enough that could find your hand. He lurched forward, and you smashed the object against his head with as much force as you could muster up. 

Gears and pieces of porcelain scattered through the air, shooting like comets as silver blood streamed like starlight from his cheek. Samuel cried out in anguish as the music box hit his eyes, ears, and features. He stumbled back in shock, clutching the side of his face as he looked at you with a mix of betrayal and anger. You stood there, eyes locked for a few moments before you dashed out of the room.

“[NAME]!” he screamed as you tore out of the room, scarlet falling behind you in a trail of sinew and desperation. Your feet, dirty and worn thumped against the floor halls of the complex as you ran as quickly as you could. 

Samuel was up after you in a matter of seconds, and you looked over your shoulder to look at him stumbling and crashing into the walls and railings. He groaned loudly, one of his silver eyes screwed shut. You tripped slightly, your limp becoming an increasing hindrance. But you had to get out. You had to go.

You passed by the courtyard, passed the drawing rooms filled with papers and sweet smiles, past the half finished painting of your worried face, past the monumental amount of books, past the softly glowing lanterns that swayed gently despite the chaos until you finally appeared in front of the gate. It sat there in its half moon glory at the end of a lonely path. 

You jumped off the wooden halls and cried out when the pressure couldn’t be held up by your injured foot, causing you to collapse suddenly. Samuel was quick to catch up as you frantically crawled forward. The dirt scraped against the unmarred skin of your forearms while you dragged yourself to freedom. Up ahead laid the few shards of the porcelain cup that he dropped upon the first sight of you, the ones by you leaving small lacerations on your knees and palms as you cursed wildly.

“[NAME]!” He shouted as he stepped down and gripped onto your waist, pulling you back as you clawed at the ground, only finding purchase in one of the pieces of the destroyed cup. He pulled you into his chest, his bruised arms squeezing you tightly. “[Name],” he said, more relieved as he pressed a small kiss at the top of your head. The blood from his lip that had just been busted ghosting on your crown. 

“ It’s alright, I’ve got you now. You’re just frantic right now, hysterical even. It’s fine. I’ll care for you, I swear. So please… Just stop fighting me. I love you [Name], so please just accept it,” he murmured, pain clear as he held you harshly. You cried out slightly, squirming around.

“ I know,” you spat out.

“ What?”

“ I know you lied. I know that I just have to go through that gate and I can leave you for good.”

“ No… No you’re wrong. No you can only leave on the full moon, remember,” he laughed in disbelief as he shook you, his hands gripping your arms as he turned you to face him. He was shaking as a manic smile fell on his lips.

“ I read your journal Samuel. You’re full of shit, and I’m getting the fuck out of here!” You yelled as you began to thrash, kicking and snapping at his arms. His smile dropped instantly as he coldly grabbed your throat. Your breath snared at that moment as he shoved you down onto the ground. The pearlescent brick dug into your back as you gurgled in surprise. He began to squeeze.

“ You don’t know anything.”

“ S-Samuel,” you choked out as you tried to pry his hands off your airway.

“ [Name], I love you. I love you so much, yet you don’t understand. How I’ve yearned for something like this. Just accept it. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that you won’t be able to leave after this, and then you’ll know,” he gritted as black spots began to cloud your vision. Your nails scratched at his arms wildly, taking chunks of silvers down with them. No, no ,no you had to get out. This was it! This was your only chance!

“ I- I love you too. I- I see now. I’m sorry,” you wheezed as you raised a quivering hand to cup the side of his face. In the same manner that you had wished to only a few days ago, you stroked his cheek and wiped the blood from his eye. He visibly softened, lips parting and gaze shimmering with hope. You smiled through your tears when his hands stopped pressed down on your throat, and Samuel leaned into your touch. He whimpered quietly as he closed his eyes and shed a single tear, relishing in your affection for one moment. One moment where he had everything he had ever dreamed of, content for the first time in centuries. You wished that he would find happiness before, but as the fingers of your other hand gripped onto a shard of porcelain just within reach, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to find it in you.

With one final scream of rage, fear, and sorrow, you slashed him across his face. The beautiful starlit man cried in agony, more guttural than anything you had heard in your entire life, as you shoved him off of you and made a running start for the gate. He blindly fumbled around for you, wailing when he found no trace of your warmth.

“ DON’T GO! PLEASE!” He screamed, desperately trying to push himself off of the ground. “ STAY WITH ME!”  His eyes, silver and filled with every emotion known to man, settled on you through blood and tears as you sprinted towards the half moon. ”[NAME]!!!!” He cried one last time before you jumped through, not even bothering to look at his pitiful state.

The world slurred around you in a cacophony of screams, silver, and the brightest of reds. It felt like you were in complete darkness, coated in anguish and regret, and then you couldn’t breathe. You fought, you struggled even with everything weighing you down, and eventually, you were able to take a gasp of air. You struggled for a moment before realizing that you were sopping wet and sitting in the middle of the pond that you had originally fallen into.

The clearing was still quiet as you scrambled out, slipping on damp grass and slick mud. You were filthy, with your clothes plastered to your skin. Not to mention it was absolutely freezing, cold ripping into your injury and fragile state. You swiped the water off your face, and when you caught sight of your fingers you laughed in relief. The noise ripped from your sore throat as the silver color of the realm slowly bled out from your skin, your color returning to its original hue. You had done it.

You cackled loudly as you fell back, looking up at the bright half moon, smiling down at you and your success. The moist grass wasn’t comfy, but you let yourself sink into it, simply too tired to care. And when your joy had passed, you stretched out your palms to the sky, imagined a heartbroken Samuel bleeding and weeping your name, and you too began to cry. 

[xoxochb]

HAIIIII! Can i request a fem reader x Percy based off the song diet pepsi or any chase atlantic song pretty pleasee 🙏🙏🙏ur choice of which if u do this btw xx

(I requested the hypnos reader x percy btw loll 🩷🩷)

⋆·˚ ༘ * diet pepsi

warnings: littering (don’t do this!), smutty-ish, heavy ass make out, read at your own risk!!! pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader a/n: addison rae, my love

It was undeniably one of the hottest days you’ve lived through. that might be because it’s ninety five degrees out or perhaps because percy’s hand keeps crawling higher up the skin of your thigh, making your cheeks turn red like cherries in the spring. you remove yourself from your previous position straddling percy, moving to sit on his side, your legs stick to the leather seats instantly. he takes the can of diet pepsi from your hand, taking a sip for himself. from your new position percy keeps his touch on your skin, his hand now trailing under your dress. you fight ever urge in system not to take it off and let him touch you in places nobody else could

you feel the blaring heat everywhere. It’s stupid. it’s incredibly stupid. and it’s frustrating how you’re forced to suffer through the torturous teasing of percy while he smirks and sips your diet pepsi. you’ve put up with this too long your surprised your clothes are still on at this point. you huff and take the van back for yourself, taking a sip only to find it was the last. you frown in response and throw it out the window and close it after. percy’s hand travels higher slowly. very slowly. if you didn’t know better you would’ve said his hand wasn’t moving at all

“percy” you whine. he laughs at your nature. “fuck you”

“that’s what I’m trying to do, angel”

you glare at him. “what’re you waiting for?”

his hand reaches the edge of your lacy underwear. little by little he slides them down your legs and throws them to the side. you know you’ll be struggling to retrieve them later. at last— after what felt like forever he slots his lips with yours at last. your eagerness pools out more than you would have liked. you take a fistful of his hair in your hand and push him impossibly closer to you. it was a almost cannibalism, the way he was kissing you, basically eating each other

percy gently pushes you back against the seat so he can allow himself to kiss you deeper. you can’t breathe but you surely don’t want him to stop, especially when he begins sliding your dress down. it’s preposterous how he thinks he can get away with this. your hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, you’re trying— honestly you are but your fingers shaking and your neediness to get it off it seems unlikely this will happen in a timely manner

when you finally manage to unbutton the last you rabidly shove it off. percy laughs into your mouth before kissing down your jaw, and then settles on your neck, leaving small bites. you know for a fact the marks will be stygian and you’ll struggle to cover them up. his lips then travel down your collarbone, and lower until they reach the point in your chest where the both of you can feel your heart threatening to burst open. his hands slide the rest of your dress straps down your arms, then slipping the dress down further, your legs toy with it until it falls on the car floor. percy takes a moment to admire you. it was a routine. this asshole

he moves a strand of hair from your face. “you’re beautiful”

“and you’re testing my patience”

he buries his head back in your neck, leaving marks on the opposite side. he places his knee in between your legs, so high you could practically say he was inside of you. you were so going to lose whatever innocence you had left in the backseat

[daisykihannie]

𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝 | 𝙻.𝙵𝚇

Day 6 of 8 days of kinks: Public Sex

Pairing: dom!felix x fem!reader

Warnings: exhibitionism, public sex, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, established relationship, kinda dub-con, biting, almost crying, etc.

a/n: i actually really like this one? i hope you don’t mind the lack of plot here

@chvnlix Day 6: Here

“Felix!? what are you-“ you were cut off by your boyfriend clamping his hand over your mouth, his other hand holding the base of your neck to hold you in place. He was looking around like he was hiding, running, from someone.

You stared at him with wide eyes, your arms hugging your breasts in a poor attempt to hide them on reflex even though Felix could probably map out every feature of them with his eyes closed.

Felix let out a deep sigh when the coast was clear, giving you a blinding smile that made his eyes turn upward into soft crescents before he removed his hand from your lips. “Hi baby~” he cooed in a whisper. “Fe-“ and you were cut off again with his hand covering your mouth again. He looked at you with wide eyes, a warning to be quiet and then removed his hand again.

“Felix- what are you doing in here?” you whisper shouted, confused and a bit snappy with your tone while your eyes shot around the dressing room that you were still half naked in.

“I missed you.” he pouted, feigning offense. “Lix. I was gone for all of 10 minutes. I literally had one more dress to try on and then I'd be right out.” you tried your best to point out how insane Felix’s actions were without having to flat out say it.

He grabbed your wrists, removing them from your breast and pulled your arms down to your side and swinging them left and right cutely. “Did you not miss me?” he asked and looked at you with the biggest, wet, puppy dog eyes and pout.

You let out a deep sigh, rolling your eyes at his antics before speaking. “Of course I missed you Sunshine, but I was going to be right out in only a few minutes.” you stared at him sweetly with furrowed brows and a fond smile. You couldn’t help it, you love him too much even with how clingy he was. He was too fucking cute to deny and you were so unbelievably weak for this man.

He moved his hands to your bare hips, you were almost completely naked except for the thin fabric of your panties that barely covered you. He ran his thumbs in gentle circles along your hip bones and allowed his eyes to travel the expanse of your bare skin, taking an extra long moment to take in the sight of your breasts sitting pretty for him.

He tugged you in by the hips so your chest was flush against his covered chest and your pelvis collided with his, a muffled moan slipping out of his throat. “He missed you too baby.” he said and rolled his hips into you, forcing you to feel his cock that was hard and straining against his jeans.

You bit your lip at the feeling and felt butterflies erupting in your stomach. “L-lix…” you called out in a whisper, trying to sound stern but it came out as a whimper instead. Felix knew that you were wrapped around his finger, knew that you couldn’t fight the arousal that he could easily pull from the deepest parts of your being.

“Let’s help each other out, yeah?” he purred into your ear and continued rolling his hips, dragging his cock against your core that might as well have just been bare considering how thin the sheer fabric of your panties were.

“W-we can’t baby. We’re in public, what if we got caught.” you tried to reason, unsure if you were trying to convince him or yourself that this was a bad idea. The idea of possibly getting caught with your boyfriend's cock inside your cunt made it even harder to deny how arousing the situation was.

“We won’t get caught. We just need to stay quiet.” he hummed, removing one of his hands from your hips and pushing two of his fingers between your thighs and applying pressure to your clit. A whimper threatened to escape your chest when Felix covered your mouth again.

“I said to be quiet, doll.” he purred and tilted his head with an evil, teasing smirk on his face. He started rubbing his fingers in circles against your bud, causing your legs to shake at the stimulation.

“My pretty baby is so wet for me, your panties are completely soaked.” he cooed and withdrew his fingers which caused you to whimper at the lack of sensation. You watched intently as he brought his fingers into your line of sight and separated them from each other, a string of your juices keeping the digits connected before he was dragging them across his tongue. He closed his mouth around his fingers, sucking them clean with a groan and his eyes rolling back.

“You always taste so sweet. I just can’t get enough.” he moaned out, placing his hand on your thigh and hiking it up to rest over his hip. He removed his hand from your mouth, diving into a bruising kiss that was desperate and messy.

You swallowed down as many of your moans as you could as Felix eagerly licked around your mouth, savoring as much of your taste as he could. He kept your leg in its place on his hip and used his free hand to undo the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down and shoving the fabric down to rest around the thickest part of his thighs.

When he released his aching cock, it recoiled up to slap against your sloppy cunt and the two of you swallowed each other's moans. He continued rolling his hips, allowing his cock to slip and slide against the now transparent fabric and through your folds. His cock very quickly became a sloppy mess from your juices, his pubes beginning to stick together with the sticky fluids.

You felt his fingers between your legs again, pulling the fabric to the side, The tip of his cock teasing your swollen clit directly now and your knees threatened to buckle, whining and begging into your boyfriends hungry mouth.

“Don’t worry my love, I'm gonna take care of you. I promise.” he hummed against your spit-shined lips and began to kiss down your neck, nipping at your sweet spot and moving his hand back to your mouth. “I just don’t trust you not to get us caught.” he followed up and slammed his cock into you, your scream muffled by his hand.

Thank god he didn’t trust you, he knows you too well. His hips stilled and he had to take a few deep breaths to keep from spilling inside you already with the way your hole fluttered around his length.

“You always feel like heaven. My cock fits so perfectly inside your pretty cunt. It’s like it was made for my cock.” he moaned quietly into your ear, his voice thick with his arousal causing it to be even deeper than usual. His hand stayed clamped over your mouth in a vice grip as your eyes began rolling into the back of your head. The drag of his heavy cock through your walls was addicting. The way his cock would drive directly into your g-spot with every thrust in had you trembling.

Drool was spilling from your mouth and down your chin through the seam where his hand stayed against your flesh. He wrapped his other hand around your waist in a bruising hold to keep you up. He buried his face into the side of your throat and began mouthing at the soft flesh to muffle his own moans. You had to breathe through your nose heavily as your head began to spin from the abuse to your g-spot.

His pace was picking up as well, punching small “ah ah ah”s from your gut everytime the head of his cock nudged against that spongey spot buried deep inside you. “Fuck doll. Sucking me in so beautifully. Gonna cum inside, fill you up like you like.” he moaned out, his thrusts growing more frantic as time went on. You were on the brink of crying as the knot in your stomach continued tightening at a rapid pace.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, getting closer every time you could hear someone right outside the dressing room you two were in. The fear of knowing that at any second the two of you could get caught had your orgasm crashing into you with the intensity of a cluster of fireworks exploding deep inside your gut. You clamped down around Felix’s cock as your body began to convulse in his hold. He let out soft hisses as he pushed through your orgasm.

He continued to thrust through the vice grip your pussy had on him, pushing him to topple over the edge as well. He bit down on your shoulder hard to muffle his own cries as he spilled inside of you. His cock was buried as deep as he could get it, inside of you and you felt him painting your walls white, his cock twitching and stretching the muscle of your pussy as he filled you up. It felt like he was cumming forever and you felt so full that it was bordering on painful.

When he stopped cumming, he stayed buried inside of you and was left panting when he pulled away from your shoulder. “Shit baby…” he mumbled with a blissed out expression on his face.

He removed his hand from your mouth and you were left panting as well, slumped back against the mirror behind your back. Your skin felt sticky and you let out a hiss at the cold metal once it made contact with your skin.

Once Felix caught his breath, he still didn’t pull out and kept you plugged up with his cock to keep his cum from spilling out of you. He took a hold of where your panties clung to your hips and pulled them hard, ripping the fabric on one side and then moving to the other.

“Lix! what are you-“ you were cut off by his cock slipping out of you and before you could complain about being empty he shoved your underwear inside your cunt before anything could leak out.

“Can’t leave a mess and get caught, my love. Gotta be my good girl and keep my cum inside you till we get home.” he smiled, patting your thigh and allowing your leg to drop from his hip. Your thigh was beyond sore and you felt like a newborn deer trying to stand.

“Go ahead and get dressed so we can go home.” he placed a chaste kiss to your forehead and gathered your clothes, helping you get dressed again and the two of you slipped out of the store unnoticed and not bothering to check if there was any mess left behind, giggling like two high schoolers.

[snowbriar]

Rise of the TMNT base study, anyone?

Mkay so it looks like I'm not the only one who didn't notice this the first three watches.

So in the Rottmnt movie the turtles have a new base: one that they had to get due to the shredder destroying their old base. (I'd imagine also because their location was compromised cause the foot were there.)

We see the old base in several shots during the film, and it never clicked with me where they are at, but apparently they found an abandoned subway and moved in. And let me just say guys, this place looks so cool and I wish we'd had more time here.

There IS still a sewer entrance though as seen in this shot after the mission and before we see the Raph and Leo fight. I would imagine this waterfall-covered hole is a common opening they use to enter and exit the base.

As far as layout goes, it looks like there are three rooms in this base. One is the room where they interrogate Casey, and it has a sort of stairway up to the trains that makes the center of the room sort of inset into the floor. This is also the clearest place to see that there is indeed a train behind them. Looks like a japanese-style time table is in the corner, could that be a clue about where they are at in New York? Looks like the trains are completely walled in too.

In this room specifically we can also see a glass roof. Natural light? Looks like it was pretty grand at some point.

I'm going to call it the north side of this room is a clearly walled-up entryway. I doubt there's an exit behind that sheet over there.

South side opposite that has a stairway leading up to what I would assume to be the other room where the turtle's uhhh 'bedroom' trains are at. Looks like this room isn't used for much as it's messy and has a lot of boxes.

We don't really get much more to see of this room as the perspective is usually facing north/towards Casey.

Second room is this one. It's very similar to the other but it's a slightly different layout and very different vibe. We can see that on either side is a tram (I'm really sorry I know that's not what they're called but I can't think of the proper term rn) and the one on the right is Leo's, while I would guess that the one on the left is Donnie's?

You can see it better in this but it looks like there are multiple cars (that's what they're called good Lord) connected together on Leo's side at least.

The opposite side looks like this and has a very harsh glow to it which is why I guessed Donnie, though I THINK that's more for effect since the brothers are going at it with each other.

But on second thought, because of the red and the bench press I'm thinking this is Raph's bedroom. Idk.

North side is this stairwell that looks very dramatic. Apparently it is Splinter's bedroom. We don't get to see much of it. I like the framing with the lighting being golden in this moment, it's almost symbolic.

South side is junk and stuff. I can't tell if there's an exit out that way but there probably is.

And yeah inside of Leo's bedroom you can clearly see the poles where people could hold onto.

HES FREAKING LEANING AGAINST ONE WHY DID I NOT NOTICE THAT

And yeah you can see the subway care outside easily and it looks more normal, but the lighting of this room is reddish so I think that is more for special effects. Neat use of blue and red here artists, very interesting how they are clashing :)

Third room is this one. It's sort of the main hub I think. It's where we first see them when they return from both key missions. Looks like we have more of the classic lair elements here.

We see the escape pods rush down this obvious subway tunnel and exit through a special mechanical door into this room. So I would guess that the security system at least is in the room, possibly Donnie's lab too. Not sure what side of the room it's on.

There's an I think holographic table in the center of the room, a skateboard ramp, speakers...

They have a neon albearto sign in a corner that clearly used to be a bar but which is just chock full of speakers now.

Yeah see? Bar. Wonder what they serve.

Here's a better view of the table and the skateboard ramp.

This view gives us the best idea of what's going on here. We have an escalator on the west AND east sides of the room which likely lead down to one or both of the other rooms. In the center of the room is I think Donnie's crane thing and on the left side (South?) is a ceiling tunnel and a ladder. Probably an exit.

We can see it a little better here too, with the camera facing north. Looks like there's another exit beyond the bar.

Anyways that is all I could find to talk about. If I had to guess this last one is the 'main room' the stairs past the bar leads down to the 'interrogation room' and the escalators on west side lead to Donnie and Mikey while the one on the east side lead to Leo and Raph's and Splinter's rooms.

ANyways. Hope this is helpful :D

[blackynsupremacy]

BOY, BYE.

pairings: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

drew starkey x black!fem!reader

summary: after a devastating public heartbreak, you show your ex, his new girl, and the rest of the world that nothing was going to bring you down.

contains: based on this request, toxic relationship, break up, mention of sex, mention of cheating, angst, betrayal, swearing, self-empowerment, getting your lick back, reader is a singer, guest starring kehlani, fluffy ending for reader.

a/n: not actually back. i’m on a long road trip to florida and i decided to finish up a draft i’ve been working for months. i hope people still like nicholas lol. enjoy! if it sucks, oh well it’s been a while.

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @exqorcism @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @iamsebastiansstan @stargirl-mayaa @oliviaambs

“n/n! m’back with the food.”

kehlani called out for you as she stepped foot in the front door holding your favorite menu items from the local thai restaurant from down the street along with some extra junk food for comfort. she could clearly hear toni braxton’s “just be a man about it” being reverberated on repeat through your apartment. she walked down the hallway and took a right to solemnly find you in the same place you were before. you sat by yourself on your bed, aimlessly scrolling through instagram as hot tears roll down your brown face with every picture you see of them pop on your screen. kehlani sighed, placing the food on the dresser and immediately going to your side.

“nah-uh, girl! what did i tell you? don’t go on socials right now.” she chastised, gently taking your phone from your hands and placing it on your bedside table. you didn’t put up a fight,

“i know, ‘lani. it’s just—it’s just…” you trail off before sobbing your heart out for the hundredth time this week. kehlani immediately wrapped her tattooed arms around you, swaying you back and forth as if you were her crying newborn daughter.

“let it out, boo. it’s going to get better.” she said with such care and sincerity, if you didn’t need her right now (or if you simply allowed her to), she’d pull up to nicholas’ place to whoop his six foot one ass for causing you this trouble.

ever since your ex, nicholas chavez, ended things with you to start a new relationship with his now not-so-secret fuck buddy, victoria, you haven’t moved from your spot in bed for days. you knew of kehlani’s consistent warnings to stay off social media, but you didn’t care. you missed nicholas that much. where the fuck did it all go wrong? although your relationship wasn’t perfect, how it all started in the beginning got you both was nothing, but romantic bliss. you were only twenty-one the year you got discovered and signed with capitol records, you both met at an after party of a movie premiere and once you started talking about your love of music with him, his face lit up, admitting that he dabbled in his own music in college before he pursued acting full-time. he had a rap name, music videos and everything.

“y’know, looking back at it—it’s kind of embarrassing!” he laughed, you joined in, but waved it off in solidarity.

“we all gotta start somewhere. i still have covers on youtube that i cringe at sometimes. at the end of the day, you can’t get anywhere if you don’t start somewhere, ya dig?”

from that moment on, your vibes just clicked with each other. date after date, the sparks between you grew stronger until you were entangled with the heat of a budding affection towards each other. you both found a balance between work and your relationship by just being the support systems you needed. nicholas would hype you up behind the scenes in the studio as you were piecing together your official debut album, while you there for him on set during his projects like general hospital. your relationship officially became public when you accompanied him as his date to the daytime emmy awards, he caught you off guard when he received the award for his outstanding performance in the soap opera and officially confirmed your relationship on national television during his speech. he even dropped those special three words that brought so much meaning. it was a special evening as the crowd went wild that night and when you both got home, you took your relationship to the next level when you gave yourselves completely to each other—all night long.

ever since that night, your romance was the talk of every media outlet. you were known as the next “power couple” as you’ve shared your journey on sites such as instagram and twitter. there would be candid pictures of you traveling captured the paps, you even took it to the next level by having a professional photoshoot and releasing it to the public as a couple. to so many you look so sophisticated, but behind the scenes, there was a myriad of bloopers that made your stomach ache in laughter at the mere thought. when nicholas was asked about your relationship in interviews, it gave you butterflies to see him all giddy. his usually serious face lightened with a faint blush as he started rambling like a smitten man about how you were the best thing that ever happened to him. of course, there were couple of haters trying to spread lies to spark drama, but the support from both of your fandoms outweighed it all.

supposedly, all good things come to an end, but you’d never thought in a million years that your good thing would end so—abruptly. it all started back when you and nicholas exchanged the most exciting news of your careers: he had been casted as lyle menendez in ryan murphy’s series of monsters and you were green lit to begin the process of writing, recording, and producing your debut album. even though this new shift in your respective fields were gonna be a breakthrough for both of you, you knew that sometimes your schedules would be conflicted over the next few months. you even communicated your doubts to him and he steadied you, his warm gaze always made it possible to calm you down with just one glance as he laid his hands on your waist in reassurance.

“babe, don’t worry. we’re gonna make this whole thing work— y’know i’ll be thinking about you the whole time and each time i get the chance, i’ll call you and tell you everything. i promise. you trust me, right?” nicholas softly questioned, leaning in forward as he gingerly cupped your face within his palms. you never had a doubt in him, you never had a doubt in your love, so you closed the gap to meet him halfway by planting your lips on his to which reciprocates with such tenderness. you pull away before confirming his request with,

“i trust you, nicholas—always.”

as the first few months of your sessions in the studio and his filming on set, things were actually good! nicholas kept his word by checking in by texts, phone calls, and facetime. you both exchange excitement of your work, spilling details about the magic behind the scenes of your areas. it made your heart swell when you send him snippets of the songs you recorded and he’d respond with such enthusiasm, that it made your face rise in temperature. you weren’t sure how or why, but the check-ins from him started to lessen, your heart would fill with disappointment with each unanswered ring of his hand phone. you’d shoot him a text, checking in and telling him that you loved him like always, but they would always be left on delivered for the whole twenty-four hours of the day and if he did respond, it’d be short, quick, and dry. you brush it off at first, filming a series can take a lot of time and perhaps he was just tired, but there was something else still bugging you. you remembered that he gave you the location of a filming site just in case you had time to visit, so you decided to do so, but as a surprise of course. that feeling of uncertainty was still nudging from deep inside of you, but you push it down further as you’re driving and singing along to the love song on the radio in pure excitement because you get to see the love of your life in action in his breakout role.

after giving yourself a pep talk, you hop out the car and give all of the right code words nicholas had provided for you to get access to the set when you conduct your visit. you walked through the bustling, creative chaos of the beverly hills scene in the nineties. thankfully there were some crew members who were friendly enough to point you in the direction of his trailer. with each step of your feet, your heart raced with excitement, bubbling with the anxiety that’s been brewing these last two weeks. you hadn’t seen nicholas for a while, and the thought of being in his arms again filled you with so much comfort, but as you neared the trailer, you stopped dead in your tracks when you noticed him standing outside. there he was happily laughing with a girl who looked to be in your age range. her skin was of a soft milky white with medium length dark brown hair, and an easy smile. she looked—amicable, the way she leaned in closer to your man seemed to more than and nicholas wasn’t making the effort to shrug her off which your stomach twist slightly. there was that pit feeling again. you wish that it would just disappear because you have nothing, but trust for nicholas.

“okaaay—maybe they’re just friends. this happens.” you reassured yourself as you adjust your hair and outfit. with a determined stride in their direction, you approached with your well known enthusiasm.

“hey, baby!” you called out, a bright smile plastered on your face as you reached them. nicholas turned, his expression shifting from surprise to something you couldn’t quite place. your mind started to race,

what the actual hell? does he not want me here? i know it was a surprise, but he could show me energy that he was showing her.

you internally chide the anxious side of you before you continue to the conversation.

“y/n!” he exclaimed, his tone sounding like a mix of relief and something else you couldn’t identify. nicholas stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you to take you in a warm embrace that felt like— home. for so long you’ve missed his touch as you instantly melted within his arms, the familiar fresh scent of his signature cologne filled your nostrils momentarily before you pulled back only to see the girl he was talking to previously had a peculiar expression on her face that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. you found it to be odd, but you never forgot your manners.

“hi!” you said, extending your hand to invite her for a handshake. “i’m y/n, nicholas’ girlfriend.” you noticed how the girl’s smile faltered for a moment before she recovered to return the cordial greeting.

“oh! it’s—uh, nice to meet you. i’m victoria. i’m here to help out on set!”

“yeah, victoria’s been great.” nicholas added quickly, but with a bit much enthusiasm for your liking as his eyes darted between you and her.

“she was just helping me go over some lines.”

you nodded, licking your lips and trying to ignore the slight tension in the air, but you still manage to brush it aside because you trust him not to do anything wrong.

“that sounds cool! i’m just so glad to see you after all of these weeks. y’know it’s been hectic with me in the studio and you on set, so i decided to come see you because i’ve missed you, nick.” you confess your heart, nervously clasping your hands together. you weren’t sure why because you’ve never been afraid to vocalize anything to him concerning your feelings.

“missed you too.” he curtly replied, but there was a hesitance in his voice that made your heart sink. you glanced at victoria, who was watching you both with a curious expression, and suddenly, the friendly atmosphere felt a little strained before she decided to chime in her two cents on the conversation.

“oh, you said something about a studio? what is it you do?” victoria inquired, stepping a bit closer placing herself between you and your boyfriend.

“i’m a singer and songwriter.”

“that’s awesome! i’m always looking for new music to listen to, but i don’t think i’ve ever heard of you. what was your name again?” victoria quizzed “innocently”, tilting her head. you were sure you weren’t imagining things because there’s no way in hell that this girl was throwing shade you. you were about to directly, but politely let her know what was up before your boyfriend cut you off.

nicholas cleared his throat, his gaze flickering back to you.

“the only reason you haven’t heard of her is because she’s been working on her first album that past few weeks—and her name is y/n.”

“ohh, gotcha. well, i’m sure it’ll do numbers when it comes out, right?”

you deliberately nodded, forcing a smile, but on the inside, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about her and your boyfriend again. it was the way he avoided your eyes for any contact, his dry responses, and the tension in his shoulders made you wonder if there was more to this situation than met the eye. you glanced at victoria again, who was now looking at nicholas with an expression that felt a little too familiar—a look that you would naturally give him when you’re in a positive mood.

after that visit on set, that feeling within your abdomen grew stronger. there was finally a week where nicholas had a break from filming, so having him home would be the perfect opportunity to get clarity on some things. his behavior was still the same as when each time you attempted to spend some quality alone time with him, he would always come up with the same excuses.

“not right now.”

“i’m really tired.”

“i just want to relax, okay?”

“can we do that tomorrow instead?”

it was all driving you insane. what even made it worse was that he was always on his phone, he’d just be typing away with a grin here and a laugh there. you tried to get in on what was so funny, but he just said that it was “an inside joke between him and his buddy”. you contemplated about doing the unimaginable: going through his phone while he was asleep. the internal battle of the little angel and devil on your shoulder was intense. one part is telling you to wait it out and eventually hear the truth, the other part wanted you to get the answers right away, whether nicholas knew your plan or not.

you devised a plan to see if he was being faithful when he was knocked out fast asleep next to you. that was the final push after he came home after a long day of filming and had no type of energy to greet you or talk to you. hell, he didn’t even kiss you goodnight. while he was sleeping, you crept out from your spot to find his phone still charging on the nightstand. with so much stealth, you took the device off the charger without making a sound. you attempted to enter what was supposed to be the correct digits to unlock the passcode, you were astonished to find out he changed it. it broke your heart knowing that the code was no longer the date you two officially became a couple. despite that, you had to muster up some strength to find another solution to gain access. with the phone still in your hand, you carefully hovered it over nicholas’ sleeping countenance. to your triumph, his face unlocked the phone and you proceeded to lock yourself in the bathroom to do some serious digging into the matter that’s been keeping you on edge. you were about to know the truth and the truth—hit you like a train that never ended as you inspected texts that gave off “more than friends” vibes and records of constant phone calls, facetimes, and even electronic money transactions to her account.

that wasn’t the worst of it, he even talked about wanting to break it off with you after filming wrapped, so they could be together. he loved her.

that was all you needed to see. with hot, burning tears raining down your cheeks, you mustered up some sort of strength to rise from the bathroom, put his phone back where you found it, and start a new chapter of your life—without nicholas. that’s what he wanted, so you gave it to him, no matter how much it hurt you. you rummaged around your room to find his suitcase because at the end of the day, you bought this place and you’d be damned if he was going to stay any second longer pretending to be in this relationship.

you found the suitcase tucked away in the corner, a reminder of the trips you once took together, now tainted with betrayal. you dragged it out, the sound of the zipper echoing in the silence of the room. with a deep breath, you turned to face him, still sleeping on the bed, his expression a mix of surprise and anger after you chucked the case on his lap. he immediately jolted awake at the painful sensation, before he could even say a word, you did it for him.

“i know about you and victoria, nicholas. you got thirty seconds to get the fuck out this bed.” you spat with venom in your voice. “i went through your phone. i tried to deny for so long, but i knew it—i fucking knew it!”

“what the hell is this?” nicholas shot up, his voice sharp. “you can’t just go through my phone and expect me to be okay with it!”

“you think i give a fuck about your privacy right now?” you snapped, your heart racing. “you’ve been fucking around behind my back! i know you’re not trying to act like the victim here!”

“i didn’t mean for it to happen,” he said, running a hand through his messy, brown hair, frustration radiating off him. “but it’s not like you’ve been perfect either!”

“i know you’re fucking lying!” you laughed bitterly, the anger boiling inside you. “i’ve given you everything! and this is how you repay me? by cheating?”

“maybe if you’d just—” he started, but you cut him off.

“maybe if you’d just what? try a little harder? because it sure as hell looks like you’ve already checked out!” your voice rose, each word laced with pain and fury. “you’ve lost feelings for me, haven’t you? just admit it!”

he hesitated, the truth hanging in the air like a thick fog. “fine! yes! i’ve lost feelings! it’s not the same anymore!” he yelled, his face flushed red with anger. “you’re suffocating me!”

“oh, i’m suffocating you?! or maybe you just can’t handle being called out on your bullshit!” you shot back, your hands trembling as you pointed towards the door, you shut yours as you couldn’t even stand the mere sight of him.

“it’s over, nicholas. get all of your shit and go with your new girlfriend. that’s what you wanted, right?”

he glared at you, the tension crackling between you like a live wire. “you think you can just throw me out like this? after everything we’ve been through?”

“you threw us away the moment you decided to fuck that bitch! boy, fuck you!” you screamed, your voice breaking. “now get the hell out of my life!”

with a growl of frustration, he started shoving clothes into the suitcase, each item a reminder of the life you once shared. you stood there, heart pounding, watching as he packed up the remnants of your relationship, feeling both liberated and shattered. as he zipped up the suitcase, he shot you one last look, a mixture of anger and regret etched on his face.

“you’ll regret this,” he spat, storming towards the door.

“no, motherfucker,” you replied, your voice steady despite the chaos inside you. “i’m finally free from your ass.” and with that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving you standing alone in the silence, the weight of the world lifting just a little. before you knew it, you took out your phone and dialed kehlani’s number before giving her the details of the incident. it didn’t take long for her to be by your side as you were a wreck. this was already so much. you knew this would circulate through the tabloids and now you were supposed to be releasing your debut album within the next month.

“i don’t know what to do, ‘lani. how am i supposed to be on the come up with all this shit happening?” you question to your best friend, who gave you a look of sympathy.

“nah, boo. you’re gonna be on the come up. y’know i got you. we’re gonna get this album done and you’re gonna look finer than ever while doing it. we’ll show his ass.” kehlani reassured you as she took your hand, being a guide to the next chapter of your life.

SIX MONTHS LATER

after some time of healing with the help of therapy, you poured all of your energy into your work. every single emotion you felt was going to resonate with fans who’ve been in your shoes and hopefully these songs will reach wider audiences. kehlani helped you get a makeover for your new era. you started to exercise more, attend regular therapy sessions, wearing your natural hair, and even got some new tattoos and piercings to your likings. the glo-up was real. you blocked nicholas on all social media platforms, so you could give life updates to your fans without looking over your shoulder. they’ve been so supportive and you let them know that dragging nicholas or victoria wouldn’t make you feel any better, thank goodness their love for you outweighed their hate for him. before you knew it, your debut album dropped and it was going viral like crazy! especially your single, “shoutout to my ex” was being circulated everywhere by different listeners.

one day while you were out with kehlani celebrating your success, you got a call from your pr team that the jimmy fallon wanted to interview you and perform your single on his late night talkshow for a live audience. you were elated as you quickly accepted the offer. things were finally looking up. you’ve also been keeping your new man under wraps and you relay him the news, inviting him to come to the show and he gladly accepted to support you. he gave you peace, grace, and understanding, but importantly, he gave you the love that you deserved. the night of the show arrived, and you could hardly contain your excitement as you stood backstage, the energy of the audience buzzing through the walls. the bright lights of the stage were a stark contrast to the darkness you had felt during your breakup with nicholas. now, you were ready to share your journey with the world, and it felt liberating. as you stepped onto the stage, the cheers of the audience washed over you like a warm wave. you took your seat across from jimmy, who greeted you with that signature smile.

“welcome! it’s so great to have you here,” he said, his enthusiasm infectious. “congratulations on your new album! it’s going viral. how does it feel to be back on top?”

“thank you, jimmy! it feels incredible to be here,” you replied, your heart swelling with pride. “it’s been a journey, to say the least. writing this album was my way of healing, and to see it resonate with so many people is just... wow.”

“i can only imagine,” he said, leaning in with genuine curiosity. “you’ve been open about your healing process. have you moved on from your past relationship?”

you hesitated for a moment, glancing at the audience. you could feel the weight of your past lingering, but you had come too far to let it hold you back. “i have moved on, yes. but i’m keeping that part of my life private for now. it’s important for me to focus on my music and my growth.”

“that’s totally understandable,” jimmy nodded. “and what would you say to your ex if you had the chance?”

you took a deep breath, the horrible memories flooding back. “i would wish him well. i hope he finds happiness, just like i am.” little did you know, nicholas was sitting in the audience, his heart sinking at your words. he wasn’t with victoria anymore, as she was just after him to social climb and try to feed off of his acting career. he hadn’t heard from you since the breakup, and he regretted not reaching out sooner before he found himself blocked.

as you prepared to perform “shoutout to my ex,” you felt a surge of confidence. the lights dimmed, and the spotlight focused on you as the music began. you poured your heart into the performance, every lyric a testament to your strength and resilience. nicholas watched, captivated, as you sang about empowerment and moving on, realizing just how much he had lost. he wasn’t kicking himself in the ass at how beautiful you looked as your appearance slightly changed.

when the song ended, the audience erupted in applause, and you felt a rush of adrenaline. you were on top of the world, but in the back of your mind, you sensed someone approaching. after the show, you made your way to your dressing room, still buzzing from the performance. just as you were about to enter, nicholas stepped forward, looking nervous and desperate.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you were taken aback, but before you could respond, your new man, drew starkey, appeared wrapping his arms around you and planting a soft kiss on your lips as he gave you a fresh, large bouquet of flowers. “you were amazing out there, baby” he said, beaming with pride. you couldn’t help, but exchange to the same look back to him and went in for another kiss before drew said he would be waiting in the car for you two to properly celebrate.

nicholas’s expression fell, disappointment washing over him as he realized he was too late. you turned to him, your heart heavy but resolute. “i’m sorry, nicholas, but this is my life now. i’ve moved on, and i’m happy.”

he nodded slowly, understanding the finality in your words. as he stepped back, you felt a sense of closure wash over you. you had fought hard to heal, and now you were ready to embrace the future with open arms. with your new man by your side, you stepped into the bright lights of your new beginning, leaving the past behind for good.

[starwuvs]

cassian andor x gn!reader

“too close for comfort.”

When a mission goes sideways, you're forced to fight your way out with Cassian Andor at your side—the man who's always been more than just a fellow rebel operative. In heat of danger, the line between loyalty and something deeper starts to blur.

You should have known the intel was bad. Cassian had known it too. You could see it in the set of his jaw, the way he scanned the alley for escape routes before the contact even arrived. But orders were orders and when the Rebellion asked, you both delivered.

Now, pinned behind the hull of a rusted speeder, you weren’t sure who was more pissed—Cassian or you.

“Two more on the roof,” he said, ducking beside you, breath ragged. “Snipers.”

“I counted,” you said, wincing as a blaster bolt scorched too close above your head. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a good plan?”

He glanced at you, and despite the danger, his eyes softened just a little.

“Not good,” he said. “Just reckless.”

You cocked your brow. “So the usual.”

Another blast forced you both lower. Cassian cursed under his breath. He was injured—a fall from earlier getting worse—and was keeping pressure on it with his left while gripping his blaster in his right. You reached to help, but he shook his head.

“You’re getting out of here,” he said. “I’ll draw them.”

“You’re not serious.”

He gave you that look, the one so steady, infuriatingly so. “They want the data you’re carrying. You get it back to base.”

You stared at him. “And leave you to die? That’s your idea of a good plan?”

Cassian didn’t answer right away. He looked away instead, toward the horizon where smoke from the ambush still rose. “If it means you live, yes.”

He’d always done this, put the mission above himself, put you above himself. From the first time you were paired together, he’d been always willing to burn so others didn’t have to.

“Cassian,” you hissed, voice low. “We go together, or not at all.”

His jaw clenched and he whispered your name.

“No,” you snapped. “You don’t get to throw yourself away. We’ve gotten out of worse.”

“That’s not—”

“I won’t lose you.” You paused. “Not like this.”

The silence between you was tense. His gaze dropped to your mouth, lingered just a second too long. Then he moved.

His hand reached for yours, squeezing tight, grounding. “Okay,” he said. Just one word, but it held much more.

You both moved fast after that, covering, communicating without speaking. Cassian surged ahead after tossing a smoke charge, and you followed, blasting a path to the extraction alley.

You heard the thrum of your waiting cargo transport and barely made the leap into it, Cassian half-hauling your weight up as you stumbled into the hold together.

Heart pounding, blood still rushing in your ears, you turned to him. He was breathing hard, injured, dust-covered, but alive.

He banged twice on the durasteel wall, the signal for the pilot to get out of there, and soon the ship was in motion, speeding away into the stars.

“You okay?” you asked, voice trembling now.

He nodded. “You?”

“I am now.”

You both looked at each other then, the space between you barely a breath.

He raised a hand slowly, brushing a smear of soot from your cheek. His fingers lingered.

“I meant it,” he said quietly. “If it came down to it…”

“I know,” you said. “But I’m not letting you die for me.”

He exhaled, something a mix of relief or regret. “Then I guess we protect each other.”

You nodded.

For one long moment, under the flickering lights of the transport, the combat seemed far away. He leaned in, just slightly, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, the pull of something between you.

But he stopped just short.

Instead, he let his forehead rest lightly against yours. “We make it back,” he whispered, “we talk.”

“Promise?”

His voice was soft but sure. “I do.”

[ thanks for enjoying my work!! leaving a like, reblog, or follow means a lot to me. be sure to leave a comment or send an ask as well! my requests are open. - love, diego ]

[sonnycampbellsmith]

Pairing: Bucky x Male Reader

Synopsis: Bucky’s anger took over his sense of judgement during a mission and you faced the consequences

Tag(s): angst, hurt/comfort, action, violence, cursing, fluff, reader is Songbird, reader is the adopted brother of Tony Stark

Didn’t realise how long this story was, enjoy!

As always, author’s note at the end :)

*******

Baron Zemo, a man all the Avengers were more than familiar with. The man who successfully broke the Avengers apart is now back and was spotted recently in Budapest.

Bucky was tense throughout the mission rundown given by Maria Hill, everyone sparing him worried glances.

After the rundown, Bucky stepped in to volunteer for the mission.

“Are you sure?” Maria asked him, worried that it would be a conflict of interest.

Bucky nodded. “Never been more sure in my life.”

“Okay then.” Maria sighed. “You’ll be sent in with Cap, Widow and Songbird. The four of you will be intercepting Zemo at his hideout, where you will be arresting him and then he’ll be sent back here to answer for his crimes.”

After discussing a little more, Bucky left the room. You were waiting outside, arms crossed with a worried look on your face.

“Hey, you’re joining us?” You asked Bucky, who was maintaining a stoic expression. The man only nodded, leaving you a little a perturbed at his cold demeanour towards you.

A few hours ago, you were both waking up in each other’s arms, chatting and laughing over breakfast and now it feels like he’s back to the cold shell of a man you first met after the highway fight, years ago.

You stared at him, unconvinced. “Baby, I don’t think you should be-“

“If you have a problem with it, you can leave. I’m still going.” Bucky cuts you off, your mouth shutting audibly. “If you’re still going then suit up, we’re meeting at the quinjet in thirty minutes.”

Bucky then walks past you without another glance, leaving you by yourself. You were a little shocked by how was speaking to you but shook it off, knowing that it was a sensitive and important topic to Bucky.

You try not to let the feeling of hurt cloud your mind as you went and get ready before heading to the quinjet to meet the others.

Bucky and Steve were already buckled in by the time you reached, so you opted to sit at the front with Natasha since you didn’t really want to handle Bucky’s attitude right now.

If Natasha and Steve noticed the unusual silence between you and Bucky, they chose not to say anything.

It was a simple mission on paper.

Locate Zemo, arrest him and bring him back to SHIELD.

Of course, with Zemo, nothing’s ever as simple.

Somehow, he was able to hack into the comms of the quinjet and intercept all the calls from his base of operations.

Once the four of you get on ground, you were immediately shot at by Zemo’s henchmen. Bucky and Steve went running to another direction while you and Natasha managed to find cover, effectively splitting the team into two.

“Songbird, you might wanna sing them a little tune before they blow our heads off.” Natasha joked, making you nod before running out and sending a sonic scream at the shooters.

The henchmen were sent flying backwards, through the front door, effectively knocking them out and leaving an opening for you and Natasha to enter.

“Widow to Cap, we’re in.” Natasha updates Steve through the earpiece.

Steve replies with an affirmative. You can hear both him and Bucky causing damage at the other side of the building.

“Hey, if Zemo’s managed to hack into the comms of the quinjet, who’s to say he can’t hear us on our earpieces.” You tell Nat as the both of you walked slowly side by side, making sure to look out for any enemies.

Natasha huffed out in frustration, realising that you were right. “Then we’ll just have to stick together, watch each other’s backs and hope Zemo comes quietly.”

“Fat chance.” A woman’s voice makes you and Natasha turn to see a mysterious figure in an all white suit, phase out of a nearby wall. “Zemo, doesn’t take kindly to uninvited guests. I’m afraid I’d have to ask you to leave.”

Natasha smirked, giving you a side glance. “Ghost? You’re already wanted in fifty countries, let’s not make this any harder and just give us Zemo.”

“I don’t really take orders from government lackies, unless you’re paying of course.”

Ghost rushes forward, Natasha doing the same only for her to phase through Natasha and then delivering a straight kick to your stomach since you were right behind Natasha.

Natasha quickly grabs Ghost by her shoulders but she phases through Natasha again before delivering a round house kick, making Natasha hit a nearby wall with a groan.

Before Ghost could attack again, you quickly got up and send out a sonic scream. Ghost gets knocked back and you see her body start to frizzle, her powers reacting negatively to yours.

“Did a little research on you and your abilities after your run in with Ant-Man, turns out we’re a match made in heaven. Stand down, now.” You said, watching Ghost get up from the floor and getting to run at you again.

“I’m going to rip your vocal cords out!” Ghost exclaims before getting body checked by Natasha, the two of them landing hard on the ground. Natasha subduing Ghost, now that her powers were affected.

In the corner of your eye, you see a flash of purple disappear up the stairs and your mind clicked onto who it was before taking off.

“Spotted Zemo, I’m in pursuit!”

You heard a faint “Wait!” from Natasha as you quickly run up a couple of stairs, reaching the third story of the building before turning a corner to a slightly larger room.

You barely had time to scope out the room before you felt a kick hit your back, sending you sprawling to the ground.

You hear the main door click, your main way of escape now blocked. Quickly recovering, you push yourself off the floor only to turn just in time to block Zemo’s knee before he socks you in the face making you fall back to the floor again.

With your vision now a little blurry from the punch, you feel Zemo get on top of you and you put your arms over your head as he hammers down on you with his fists.

You feel one of your arms get pushed away and you take a breath in, ready to use your sonic scream when Zemo stops it by punching you in the neck.

You feel the air get lodged in your throat and you’re left choking on the floor as Zemo moves away from your body.

You let out a few coughs as you made an attempt at sitting up so you could regain some sense of breathing, your hands now shielding your throat as the pain continued to pulse.

“Apologies Songbird, I’d rather not be blasted through this window by that melodic voice of yours. You’ve already taken down my men and Ghost, you’re not getting me.” Zemo’s voice taunts you as you try your best to get away by dragging your injured self across the floor.

“Where are you going?” You hear Zemo’s footsteps get closer, causing you to panic as to what cynical plan he has for you next.

You cry out, your voice completely hoarse, as you felt your hair get pulled back. Zemo now dragging you across the floor, your legs kicking away and your hands trying to claw off the death grip Zemo had on your head.

You felt yourself get into a standing position, Zemo now holding you up by your throat. He then pushes you backwards and you feel your back hit glass, the sound of a window shattering at impact.

You were now dangling out of the window of the room you and Zemo were in, only being supported by his grip around your neck.

“It would be ashamed if someone decided to incapacitate me, making me let go of you and then you fall three stories down to your ultimate demise.” Zemo says with venomous glee, his eyes wide with joy behind the purple mask.

“Fuck you.” You croaked at him.

Natasha stared up in horror when she heard the window break. She had knocked out Ghost, leaving the other woman on the floor as she made a break for it, hoping she gets to you in time.

Steve and Bucky arrive to see Zemo standing by the window. Unfortunately their view of you was obscured by some pillars.

Steve presses his earpiece, letting Natasha know that they found Zemo and that Bucky was going to take his shot.

“Wait! He’s got Songbird by the window! Don’t shoot!” Natasha yells through the comms. Steve’s eyes widened before yelling at Bucky to stand down.

Unfortunately, Bucky only saw red. Everything else around him was muted as he pulled out his gun, firing right into Zemo’s shoulder.

Not realising that he played right into Zemo’s plans, Bucky’s anger quickly turns into horror as he watched Zemo stumble backwards and he sees your body fall out the window.

You were free. Once Zemo’s grip on you failed, you took a gasp of air as you felt your weak body fall backwards. You were already too damaged to care at that point, you couldn’t even physically reach out or yell as you fell.

You could only think of the Avengers, Tony and lastly Bucky’s smile as you closed your eyes and braced for impact but it never came.

“Steve?” You whispered in confusion as you opened your eyes slowly and meeting Steve’s worried look. Not even realising that you were caught just in time, thanks to Steve’s quick call to action.

“I got him. Songbird’s alive but he needs medical attention stat!” Steve commanded over comms.

You tried your best to keep your eyes open but you felt your consciousness slip in and out as you heard multiple voices in the background. You think Natasha was shouting at somebody but you couldn’t tell who.

“Bucky…” You whispered his name before everything around you faded to black.

News of your injuries reached the other Avengers. Thanks to Tony, a makeshift hospital room was set up way before your unconscious body even reached the Tower.

Everyone watched helplessly as the medical crew wheeled your body away on a stretcher, Tony following right behind.

Bucky tried to follow but Natasha and Steve stopped him. They explained that the doctors needed space to work and an argument with Tony would only end up being disruptive to your recovery.

Bucky was devastated.

Even though the mission was a success and Zemo was captured, thanks to Natasha coming in the last second to subdue Zemo with her Widow’s Bite, Bucky still got reprimanded by Maria for ignoring his teammates and endangering another. He was effectively off any future missions until further notice.

Bucky couldn’t care less that he was in trouble or that they managed to get Zemo. He just wanted to go and see you but according to Tony, you slipped into a coma. The doctors were unsure of when you were going to wake up.

That night, he slept on the floor next to your empty bed. He couldn’t bear to sleep in it without you but at the same time he needed your scent next to him for him to even drift off to sleep.

His dreams quickly turned into nightmares as the scene of you falling out of the window kept replaying over and over again. Only this time, Steve didn’t catch you and your body would hit the ground with a sickening crack with your lifeless eyes boring right into Bucky’s.

Bucky would wake up, drenched in sweat. He’d have to constantly remind himself that you were very much alive and were being taken care of by the best doctors that only the Avengers could get.

This continued for three more weeks until one day Bucky wakes up from his nightmare and sees Tony standing in the room.

“So you just sleep shirtless?” Tony asks.

Bucky shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “I run hot.”

In truth, Bucky had holed himself up in your room to avoid everybody.

Tony, especially.

He couldn’t face the other man, knowing that he was the cause of your current state.

He hears Tony walk around the room.

“You know, I blame you.” Tony’s voice cuts through the silence, making Bucky freeze.

Tony laughed humourlessly. “Sure, when you murdered my parents, you were under Hydra’s control but what’s the excuse for landing my little brother in a hospital bed?”

Bucky kept silent, he had no excuse. He shouldn’t have been on that mission, knowing how angry he was. To the point, he blatantly disregarded you of all people just so he could focus on getting Zemo. It wasn’t worth the consequences.

Tony rambled on. “By some miracle, Barnes, my brother saw something in you. Even going to the extent of going against me to protect you at Germany. I watched the both of you slowly grow, open up, fall in love and you even wanted to marry him but you chose Zemo over my brother’s safety?”

“Tony, I-“ Bucky sighed but Tony interrupts him.

“Zip it, Manchurian Candidate. I wasn’t done.” Tony’s tone left no room for discussion, leaving Bucky with no choice but to solemnly nod in response.

“I blame you.” Tony repeated before he let out a defeated sigh. “But he doesn’t.”

Bucky’s head quickly whipped up, unsure if he had heard what Tony said was right. “What do you mean? Is he-“

“Just get dressed and follow me, Barnes. I’ll be waiting outside.”

Bucky got ready in record time, practically launching himself out of the room to follow Tony down to the basement level of the building where they were safely monitoring your progress.

As Tony lead Bucky towards the room where you were at, he informed Bucky of the injuries that you had suffered. “The little brat had the nerve to ask for you once he woke up and saw me sitting next to him.” Tony muttered before opening the door to let Bucky slip into the room.

The sound of the door opening and hesitating footsteps caused you to look up from the bland food you had on your plate, making you gasp at the sight of your boyfriend.

He looked like he hasn’t taken care of himself in weeks. His hair was disheveled, the bags under his eyes were more prominent and his stubble now thicker.

You on the other hand, had small cuts across littered across your face. Your throat now sporting a bruise, along with your arms.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Bucky said as he slowly made his way to you. You were shocked when he then fell to his knees and rested his head on your legs.

He softly grabbed your hand, brought it to his face and kissed it gently. He then rubbed his face on it like a cat and it made you giggle when you felt his stubble tickle your hand.

“Bucky…” You croaked out, your voice still hasn’t fully recovered.

“I’m here sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. I’m so sorry, if I hadn’t went on that mission then you wouldn’t have ended up here. It’s my fault, you’re this way.” Bucky rambled on, weeks of not being able to see and talk to you finally spilling out.

Bucky didn’t even realise he was crying over you until he felt your fingers wipe the tears from his face as you gently shush him. He looked up to only be met with you smiling softly at him.

He grabs your hand again and kisses it. Making sure that you’re really right infront of him and that this wasn’t some dream that he was going to wake up from at any second.

“It wasn’t your fault, my love.” You told him as you softly caressed his face. “Even if you hadn’t gone on the mission, Zemo still would’ve gotten me. Maybe Steve would’ve been a few minutes slower in fighting off all the men without you helping him and he would have missed me falling out of the window.”

Bucky’s breath hitch at how you’ve perfectly described the nightmares he’s been having of you.

“I don’t blame you Bucky.” You softly say to him, making him look into your eyes. “But you have to promise me that you won’t shut me out again. That was what I cared about, not what Zemo-“

Bucky frowns when you cut yourself off mid sentence and sees you get teary eyed.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m here, it’s okay. You’re safe, he’s gone. He’s not gonna hurt you.” Bucky softly cooed at you as he gathered you in his arms, mindful of your injuries.

“He was so brutal and I was so scared.” You now openly sobbed into Bucky’s chest, feeling his fleshed hand cradle your head. “I was afraid that I was going to die and all I could think about was how I wasn’t gonna see everyone, Tony and you ever again when I fell out of that window.”

Bucky began tearing up hearing your confession, unable to think of anything to say other than that you were home and you were safe.

The thought of losing you haunted his soul everyday.

You eventually fell asleep in his arms, Bucky then tucking you into bed. Kissing you on the forehead with a silent promise that he won’t repeat his mistakes again and that he’ll always keep you safe no matter what.

With a little bit of effort, he pushed himself off the bed even though all he wanted to do was have you in his arms again.

“Hey.” Tony called making Bucky turn around.

Tony walked up to your bed and softly smiled at your sleeping form. Happy that you were at least now conscious. He sighed before meeting Bucky’s sorrowful look.

“I heard from Maria that you’re temporarily banned from missions, can’t say I’m surprised.” Tony muttered.

Bucky nodded. “To be honest, Stark. I kinda don’t care if it means I get to stay here with him.”

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Young love, always gotta be dramatic.”

Bucky snorted humourlessly at Tony’s jab, wanting the conversation to end.

“I’ll set up an arrangement so you could sleep here with him until he’s recovered enough to move back into his room upstairs. Also it looks like the both of you are going to need go on vacation soon, I wouldn’t worry about the expenses.”

Bucky stared at Tony, completely flabbergasted. He expected Tony to kick him out of the tower, hell, even the team after his fuck up but this was a kind surprise.

“Just take care of him okay? I’ll go get some help to set up a spare bed here for you. In the meantime, you might wanna take a shower. You stink.” Tony said before leaving the room.

Bucky huffed out a laugh before making his way to you again. Reaching out for your left hand, mindlessly thumbing over your ring finger.

“I love you.” Bucky smiled down at your sleeping figure.

With the comforting silence and the sound of your breathing, he patiently waits for you to wake.

***********

Author’s note:

Whew, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.

Angst?

Not my favourite to write but for some reason this story flowed out a little too easy so I gotta go self reflect

I had multiple drafts of how MR was gonna get injured and multiple outcomes of this story, we’re talking break-ups or even death

But my love for fluff powered through so y’all got a good ending. This time.

Anyways, thank you for reading and supporting my Bucky x Male Reader fics!

Check the tags if you think you missed out any other stories because I’ll be updating as soon an idea pops into my head 😂