#this took a bit to figure out but!! enjoy!

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 5)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

(Prologue and Ch. 1) // (Ch. 2) // (Ch. 3) // (Ch. 4)

Rafe slammed his lips into yours, prying them open with his tongue, and you immediately allowed him access. Still holding your forearms, he lifted them so you would wrap your arms around his neck. He lightly tapped your lower back and you took it as a signal that he wanted you to jump. You sprang up and he caught you, like he always has. Hands firmly on your ass, he walked the two of you towards the living room.

He dropped you onto the couch roughly, making you yelp as you bounced off the plush cushions. You smiled at Rafe but he didn’t smile back.

“Take your clothes off,” he commanded.

Your smile faded, the tone of this interaction was so far from the playful, affectionate intimacy the two of you used to share. But something in the way Rafe looked with his jaw clenched and his eyes fierce made you want to comply with his request. You removed your clothes quickly as he watched, stopping when you were left in only your panties. Rafe crawled over you, causing you to lay back on the couch, your hair fanning around your head. You watched him with rapture as he took off his own shirt, he had clearly been working out quite a bit in the last few years. You didn’t think it was possible to be more attracted to him than you used to be, but you were wrong.

He hovered over you and kissed you again. You could feel him through his sweatpants, ready for you. You moved your leg so it would rub against him and he groaned into your mouth. He moved his lips to your ear and bit down on your earlobe as he grabbed your boobs hard. He’d never been this rough with you, and you were a little frightened by how much you were enjoying it. You couldn’t hold back your words any longer.

“I missed you, ba-” you tried to say.

Rafe lifted his finger to your lips and slipped it inside, silencing you. You were stunned for a second, before wrapping your lips around his finger and sucking, surprised at how hot you found it that he was shutting you up.

“Shhh,” he whispered in your ear as you swirled your tongue around his finger tip. He added a second finger and you welcomed it gladly.

Rafe used to encourage you to be as loud as possible, loving how you talked to him, praising him, confessing how much you loved him when he was inside of you. But if he heard one more word from you then he’d start thinking about how much he loved you, and if he thought about how much he loved you, he’d start thinking about how much you hurt him. This would only work if there was no thinking involved. 

He removed his fingers from your mouth and trailed them down your body. You gasped when he finally made it down to the waistband of your panties. He bent his fingers and rubbed two knuckles over the lacy fabric, the pressure too light, making you buck up when they ghosted over your clit. Your eyes shut and a soft “please” escaped your lips, the sound shooting fire straight through him. He pressed his knuckles in with a little more pressure, and you started writhing, your wetness soaking through your underwear.

“That feels so good,” you whispered. He thought he didn’t want to hear you talk, but the words sounded so good that he figured he’d make an exception. So long as he could keep your words focused on how your body feels and not how your heart feels, he was still in safe territory.

Rafe was holding himself up with one arm, hand next to your head, forearm veins deliciously prominent just a few inches from your face. You looked over at his arm as he continued his work on your lower half. You knew the look of his arms so well, you could probably draw them from memory, but your brow furrowed when you noticed something you hadn’t seen before - a partially healed, blotchy pink scar on his forearm, just above his wrist. The skin was barely healed over, so the scar couldn’t have been too old. 

Rafe looked up from your lower half to catch you looking at the scar on his arm, a prominent frown tugging at your lips.

“What happened?” You asked him, still studying the wound. 

“Nothing,” he shrugged. He hated the empathy he saw in your eyes, despite his hard heart softening slightly at the sight of your concern for him. 

Needing to pull your attention away, he suddenly pushed the fabric of your panties aside and rubbed the pads of his fingers from your entrance up to your clit. Your hand shot down to grab his wrist, stopping the motion.

Your eyes didn’t leave the scar, unable to enjoy this moment and the feeling of his hands on you until you knew where it came from. It could’ve been an accident, maybe he burned himself in the kitchen, or while working on his bike. But something told you that wasn’t the case. There was that eerie intuition you’ve had since you were kids. Despite not having the facts, you still knew him in a way that didn’t make sense to anyone, including you. The idea that he had been in pain, that something had broken him and you weren’t there to fix it, was almost too much for you. Without really thinking it through, you leaned closer to his arm and placed a soft kiss to the scar.

The second your lips met his skin, Rafe pulled his arm away from your head and his hand from your heat, pushing himself off of you.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, not entirely sure what you were apologizing for, but afraid you had hu somehow.

Rafe stood from the couch and stalked over to the window, facing away from you and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

“You can’t fucking do shit like that,” he said so quietly, you wondered if he was talking to you or to himself. 

You reached down to the floor and grabbed your shirt, holding it over yourself as you sat up on the couch, suddenly feeling extremely exposed.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you explained.

“You didn’t hurt me,” he snapped defensively. You wondered if he was talking about the scar, or something much bigger.

Rafe shook his head, his hand instinctively rubbing over the scar on his arm, as though he could wipe away the feeling of your lips against the marred flesh. You pulled your shirt back over your head and searched for your shorts, the moment was clearly over and you felt like an absolute fool sitting there naked. 

“I should go,” you say as you pull on your shorts. 

The muscles of his bare back tensed but he forced himself to keep his eyes off you, afraid if he saw the hurt look on your face he’d crumble.

“Yeah, you probably should.” 

You weren’t necessarily expecting him to disagree with you, but there was a tiny sliver of hope that he’d ask you to stay. You still had some delusional dream that he’d finally just explain himself to you, hold you and tell you he’d never let you go again. God, you really were a fool.

Rafe winced as he heard you sniffle. You scrambled to find your shoes and pulled the first one on as you ran out of the room, desperate to get out of there before your crying got any more pathetic. 

You ran out the front door, one shoe on and one off. Your mother’s car was gone, the tow truck must’ve pulled it off the property while you were inside. You realized you never even asked Rafe where they were towing it to, meaning you had not only stolen your mother’s car, but now had no idea where it was. You’d really thrown away any hope of ever reconciling with your mom for whatever the fuck just happened in that house. Hot tears began falling down your face, no strength left in you to hold them back.

What a sight it must’ve been to the neighbors - you running away from Tannyhill, clothes askew, tears streaming down your face. It was mid-morning now and a beautiful day, you passed at least a dozen people as you ran directionless down the street.

Two Years Earlier…

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. 

Rafe rapped his knuckles against your front door hard, wincing at the pain. His hand had slammed into the steering wheel hard when he crashed, it was probably sprained, but that was a problem for later. The only thing on his mind at that moment was seeing your face. Maybe once he touched you he’d wake up and realize the whole thing was just a terrible nightmare. 

His heart jumped as the door slowly creaked open, but fell when he realized it wasn’t you on the other side of it.

Your mom had never liked him. In fact, most moms didn’t like him. But he didn’t understand what exactly he had done to make this particular mom hate him so much. They had exchanged plenty of angry words before, Rafe never being one to just sit and watch when someone he loved was threatened. Everytime your mom raised her voice at you, he’d step in, yelling at her to back off.

“This isn’t about you,” she’d say to him, all three of you knowing it was a lie.

He expected her to say something about how he should leave, that you were grounded and he couldn’t see you. But instead, she smiled politely and said, “hello, Rafe.”

“I - uh - hi,” he stammered back, the speech he had planned on the way over about how you were an adult now and she couldn’t keep you from him dying in his throat. “Is y/n here?”

Your mother just looked at him, but he couldn’t read her expression. Rafe never saw the resemblance between you two, perhaps blinded by his own hatred for her. But in that moment, there was something oddly familiar in the way her eyes softened when she looked at him. 

“No,” she said simply.

“Okay, well do you know when she’ll be back? Because I-”

“She’s not coming back, dear.”

Rafe just blinked, the words so confusing his brain couldn’t process them.

“What- what are you talking about?” 

“Maybe we should talk later,” she said, condescendingly touching his arm for a second before he ripped it away from her. 

“I don’t want to talk later,” he raised his voice. “Talk now, where is she? What did you do?”

Your mother narrowed her eyes at him, all of the fake softness she was trying to show brushed away immediately at his accusation.

“I didn’t do anything,” she said. “She left.”

Rafe shook his head, none of this was making any sense.

“What are you fucking talking about, she left? Where did she go?” He was yelling now and your mother gave him a poisonous look.

Rafe stepped back into the yard, looking up at your bedroom window.

“Y/N!” He yelled. Your mother looked around, checking to see if his volume was drawing the neighbors’ attention.

“She’s not here!” She snapped once she had confirmed no one was watching. “She didn’t want to be here anymore. She left!”

Rafe looked at her with fury in his eyes, his chest rising and falling in angry pants.

“You’re lying,” he accused through gritted teeth.

Your mother approached him silently, and he stepped back, not sure if she was gonna hug him or slap him. She did neither, instead pulling a small object from her pocket and holding it up to him.

“She wanted me to give you this,” she said.

His world slipped out from under him and his face went pale. This really was a nightmare. Why the fuck couldn’t he wake up?

“She wanted me to tell you goodbye for her,” your mother said.

Her arm outstretched, she gave Rafe your promise ring.

Now…

Rafe waited to hear the front door slam before finally turning around and taking in the spot on the couch where you had been just a minute ago. His thoughts were a knotted mess he couldn’t detangle. One thread of guilt, the sounds of you crying like an arrow through his chest. One thread of anger, how dare you try to be sweet to him after all you’ve put him through? One thread of shame, surely if you found out the truth about what he did to get that scar, and the even worse things he had done since then, you would never be sweet to him again. 

You said you still loved him. But you didn’t really know him anymore. If you really knew everything, there’s no way you would’ve said all of that.  

His senses return to him slowly, still in disbelief that he’d just had you naked beneath him, after all this time. He needed to wash this morning off of him, to clear you from his head. He needed you off of this island so he could return to the plan he had been executing- sell the gold, keep the house, take over the company, be the man. It was an equation you just didn’t fit into anymore.

Dragging his lifeless body up the steep spiral staircase, he forced himself into the shower. He held his hand under the scalding hot water, watching it turn red and splotchy. He let the heat burn away the lingering feeling of you as his eyes grazed over the scar on his arm. He had never really treated it, delusionally believing if he ignored it then it would just go away. 

Even as he held his face under the steaming water, he couldn’t wash away the image of you placing a gentle kiss on it. No one had looked at him with genuine concern like that in such a long time. 

Fuck. His bottom lip quivered and he placed his hand on the wall of the shower to steady himself. Something sharp ran through his chest - he ached for you. He couldn’t believe he had you so close to him, telling him you still loved him, and he’d let his pride fuck it up.

He thought about Shoupe’s comment that there was nobody left who cared about him. But clearly, you did. And he was going to push you away - for what? Because he’d fucked up so badly two years ago that you had to leave? After all, it was his fault wasn’t it? Most things were. Now you were back, ready to love him again, and after all he had done, who was he to push away love when it was offered?

He turned the shower off and dried off quickly. He needed to find you. 

You had been on foot, so you couldn’t have gone far. You wanted to avoid your mom so desperately that you had slept in your car last night, so clearly you hadn’t gone home. As he was pulling on his clothes, it dawned on him - he knew exactly where you were.

There were a few families on the beach, though the chilly autumn air had sent most of the tourons packing for the year. He hadn’t been to this part of the beach in over two years, unable to stomach the site of the abandoned Lifeguard tower without you under it. But this time, you were standing on it, hair whipping in the wind as you leaned against the decaying railing. He couldn’t help but smile when he realized you had climbed over the “condemned structure, no trespassing” signs to get up there.

Rafe walked quietly around the tower and appeared in front of it, causing you to jump when you looked down and saw him standing there.

“Jesus, Rafe!” You said, quickly wiping the tears from your face. “You scared me.”

“Whatcha doin’ up there?” He squinted in the sun, reminding you of how he looked when he was younger. Like the boy who you’d given your first kiss to under this very tower was standing in front of you now. 

The sight made you long to go back in time. You looked away from him, another round of tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. Rafe didn’t hesitate to climb up the tower, avoiding the parts of the old wood that had rotted away.

When he got to you, he pulled you into his chest, holding the back of your head to him as his shirt absorbed your tears. You didn’t exactly hug him back, but you didn’t push him away either.

After a minute or so, he pulled you back, hands on either side of your face, wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“I’m having a really bad week,” you told him.

He chuckled, “I know what that’s like.”

You looked up at him, eyes red and swollen. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “I just can’t stand knowing you’re in pain.”

“I know what that’s like,” you repeated his words back to him.

“It was easier when you were gone,” he admitted without thinking.

Your lips parted like you were going to say something, but nothing came out, your heart shattering at his words. You turned away from him, afraid the tears you had finally gotten under control were about to return.

“No, that’s not what I- I just,” Rafe sputtered, mentally kicking himself for making you cry again, the opposite of why he had come to find you. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. If he said another word, he was afraid he’d officially lose you forever. But if he said nothing, you would never know what he was really feeling.

Rafe grabbed your shoulders and turned you around forcefully, immediately pressing his lips to yours. You didn’t kiss him back right away, so he ran his tongue over your lips gently, trying to show you that he wasn’t giving up. After what felt like forever, you finally sighed and began kissing him back, no denial left in you.

The two of you kissed for a long time, arms wrapped around each other, holding on for dear life. The old wood of the tower creaked under your feet every time either of you shifted your weight. You thought the floor might fall out from under you any second, and you didn’t care. You’d go down with him.

Suddenly, you heard the low hum of an engine in the distance, and you opened your eyes, keeping your lips on Rafe’s. When you realized what you were looking at, you tapped Rafe's shoulder, trying to signal to him to pull back.

“Mmm Rafe!” 

“I know, baby, me too,” he mumbled before continuing to kiss you.

“No,” you pulled away from him, “look!”

Rafe followed your pointed finger to see the Kildare Beach Patrol ATV driving down the beach towards you.

“Shit,” he said. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be up here.”

You eyed the many “No Trespassing” signs and laughed sarcastically. “What makes you say that?”

“C’mon,” Rafe grabbed your hand and your heart sank in disappointment, thinking he was going to lead you off the tower, that the moment was ruined.

But instead he turned to the door of the Lifeguard tower’s small office, wrapped in yellow “do not enter” tape. He shook the handle but it didn’t budge.

Rafe looked down at the beach, the patrol vehicle getting dangerously close.

“Fuck it,” he said, ramming his shoulder into the door as hard as he could. It flew open with a CRACK and you gasped, a thrill running through you at his reckless show of strength. 

Rafe pulled your hand and you giggled as you flew through the door behind him. The door closed and you were quickly pressed against it, his warm body invading your space. 

“I can’t believe you did-” 

Rafe’s hand flew over your mouth, silencing you. He leaned his ear against the door over your head, listening for any sign that the patrol officers had seen his breaking and entering stunt.

He was so close to you, your face nearly pressed into his chest, that you could feel the warmth of his skin radiating through his shirt. You couldn’t help yourself, feeling like a woman possessed as you leaned in and took a deep breath through your nose, breathing him in.

He looked down at you with an amused face, his hand still covering your mouth. Your eyes widened, feeling foolish.

“Did you just smell me?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

He moved his hand from your mouth so you could answer, and you immediately missed the roughness of his skin against your soft lips.

You couldn’t think of words to explain how badly you had been craving the sight and smell of him, the feeling of him, for so long. Ever since you could remember, being in his vicinity had always consumed your senses. You had only been shut in this room with him for a minute and you already felt drunk off of his presence, the cloudy fog that was once your greatest addiction slowly filling your head. You decided that was the problem - you’d been clean for far too long, you needed him in your system again. You thought for a long time, afraid to attempt the words again after the aggressive way he had declined them earlier. But you desperately needed to get them off of your chest, even if he didn’t want to hear them.

“I missed you.” 

Rafe looked down at you, the hand that was just over your mouth finding its way to your hip. The image of you somewhere far from here, missing him and thinking you would never see him again flashed across his mind. The thought was so painful that he had to close his eyes, a lump of anger clotting in his throat. He gently set his forehead against yours, breathing deeply.

You didn’t understand why your words had upset him, and you immediately wished you could take them back. Something about what you said had clearly caused him pain, and you couldn’t bear it. You reached up, grabbing at his shirt, his arms, the back of his neck. You were pawing at him like you could somehow pull him into you, absorb him and take away any pain he’d ever felt. 

“Hey, hey,” you whispered to him, your hands finally landing on either side of his face, pulling back so you could look him in the eyes. He blinked them open into yours and you brushed your nose against his lovingly. “Talk to me.”

Rafe swallowed hard, looking at you with an intensity that made you feel like you were floating.

“Tired of talking.” He slammed his lips into yours before the words had even fully left them. Both his hands were on your hips now, pushing you back against the door. Your chests were pressed together, the power of his body crushing you so sweetly. You inhaled deeply into the kiss, realizing you had been holding your breath. As you released your breath, you let out a little moan that set his blood on fire.

One of his hands fell to your ass while the other cupped the back of your neck, pulling your face into his, making it impossible for you to pull back. You wouldn’t have broken the kiss if this building was on fire, but the idea that you couldn’t, that he had you, was exhilarating. In your excitement, you bit his bottom lip.

“Shit, sorry,” you said, watching as his bottom lip began to swell.

“Do that again,” he demanded. 

Your eyes widened at the darkness in his voice and he worried that he’d scared you. But his worries faded when you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to reach his mouth, drawing his bottom lip between your teeth again. 

You bit gently at first, but increased the pressure when he left out a broken groan that was so hot you found yourself clenching around nothing, already impossibly wet.

After a moment, you released his lip with a ‘pop’. You watched proudly as it turned purple, and he didn’t miss the mischievous flicker in your eye. His eyelids were heavy as he looked at you, a heat between you that was more electric than anything you’d ever felt. You thought back to a few nights ago when you first saw him. You still hated the way he talked to that waiter, hated how viciously arrogant he sounded when he hit on that woman at the club just to piss off her date. But right now, all of that passion and ferocity was aimed directly at you like a laser beam, and you wanted it to cut straight through you. But you had to know something first.

“Did you miss me, baby? You whispered, still watching his lips, afraid if you looked him in the eyes and didn’t get the answer you wanted, you’d break beyond repair. 

Rafe couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did he miss you? He’d been walking around a shell of a man since the night you left him sitting on that curb. Did he miss you? He hasn’t slept in two years. Did he miss you? He has to stay high every minute of the day, afraid if he’s sober long enough to remember everything you’d been through together, he might not survive it.

Your ability to read his mind still hadn’t fully returned, and you couldn’t quite understand the look on his face. His brow was furrowed, but you didn’t know what emotion was behind it. You were suddenly afraid that asking the question was a mistake, but you couldn’t let this moment with him slip through your fingers. 

When he opened his mouth slightly to respond, you abruptly reached up and placed your fingers over his mouth, silencing him. You shook your head ever so slightly and Rafe wasn’t entirely sure what you were saying no to, him now being the one afraid of the moment ending. But then you slid your hand down, over his neck, his chest, down his abdomen, until you reached the outline of his erection. You palmed him through his jeans, pressing firmly as you rubbed back and forth. His eyes rolled in pleasure and a breathy moan left his lips.

Thinking you had gained all the power, you went to slide your hand under the waistband of his pants, but he grabbed your wrist hard, stopping you. You gasped as he grabbed your other wrist too, holding them firmly to the door behind you, bending down to get his lips next to your ear.

“You didn’t let me answer,” he snarled.

It all happened so dizzyingly fast. Rafe suddenly pulled you off the door and backed you towards an old desk that sat on the other side of the small office. He held you there with one hand while he used his other arm to push all of the old papers and office supplies off of the desk. Once the surface was cleared, he lifted you up from under your arms and set you down on it. He kissed you hard as his hands worked on the buttons of your shorts, ripping them down your legs along with your panties. There was no time to undress either of you slowly, he needed to be inside you, and you were thinking the exact same thing.

He unzipped his jeans and took himself out of them, not even bothering to pull them off all the way. Rafe pumped himself as he neared you, rubbing his tip through your soaking folds before sinking himself into you.

Your mouth fell open at the feeling of him entering you. The stretch hurt a bit after two years without him, but you welcomed it, clawing at his flexing arms as he started moving in and out of you. You looked down, watching where he entered you with your eyebrows knit together, too engrossed in the sight to make a sound. Rafe grabbed your chin and pulled your gaze up to meet his. 

“Did I miss you?” He repeated your words incredulously as he slammed into you hard, finally pulling a strained moan from your throat. 

Rafe started fucking you like he never had before. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving marks as you whined and mewled. Your whole body shaking from the impact every time he bottomed out. You wanted him to give you all of his passion and fury, and now he was. 

Tears formed at the corners of your eyes. When the first one fell, Rafe placed a kiss on it, wiping it away with his lips. Still holding onto your chin, he moved his lips over and kissed the other side of your face, the gentle action in such stark contrast to the way he was pounding into you. 

He pulled back and looked into your eyes again, and said in a startlingly clear voice, “you are the love of my fucking life.”

You broke into a sob.

“Rafe!” You cried as he somehow sped up his thrusts even faster. 

“It destroyed me when you left,” he kept going. “Never gonna let you leave me again. Never losing you, baby.”

The passion in his words and the intensity in his movements were almost too much. It was all so perfect, so exactly what you’d wanted for so long, that you almost couldn’t bear it. Your orgasm crashed into you out of nowhere, and you came with a loud cry of his name.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed you through it. “Give it to me, give me everything.”

The feeling of you clenching around him mixed with the sound of you screaming his name pushed him over the edge and emptied himself into you. He flinched when he realized he was completely uncovered, but as he made to pull out, you wrapped your legs around him, holding him in. 

Rafe stayed inside of you for a moment, holding you with your head resting against his chest and his hands in your hair. When he finally slid out, he put his hands on either side of your face and kissed you one more time, both of you groaning at the separation.

Once he had tucked himself back into his briefs, he kneeled down to get your shorts off of the ground. He pulled them over your feet and up your legs, helping you down so you were standing as you buttoned them. This time, it was you with your hands on either side of his face, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs as he knelt before you. 

Rafe reached into his pocket and pulled something out you couldn’t quite see. You eyed him curiously and he slowly opened his palm to reveal something small and gold. Your promise ring.

to be continued

a/n: I told you the smut was on it's wayyyy! but those of you who are here for angst, never fear.... 👀

as always if I left you off the taglist i'm sorry and please lmk!! Idk why but tags aren’t working in the post so I will put them in replies! I may be switching to a notification account soon because these tags give me such a hard time everytime I post 😭

[andillneverbethesame]

omg i love your writing!! could you do a taylor swift song prompt of “so high school” x james potter? potentially with a ravenclaw reader?

looove this! so high school is absolutely james coded aaaaa. this is so short but i hope u enjoy anyway<33

so high school

❥ james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader

❥ warnings; none really

❥ word count; 1.2k

❥ my ts masterlists; pt 1 & pt 2

"oi, james!" sirius called his best mate and gestured for james to sit next to him as if he wasn't going to do that anyway.

"good morning, everybody," james smiled at his friendgroup, his eyes lingering on you a tiny bit longer than on anyone else, making your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up. you glanced back Down on your plate in hopes to hide it.

"james," sirius spoke up again, "marry, kiss or kill; lily, marlene, y/n."

"well, we all know who'd he want to marry," marlene said in a low voice, only for you and lily to hear. lily snorted and you lightly elbowed her.

the girls were convinced that james fancies you just as much as you fancied him. however, you found that hard to believe that someone so perfect like him could like someone like you.

james frowned. "i don't like this game."

sirius rolled his eyes. "oh, come on, you just don't want to say it out loud so you don't hurt anyone's feelings." he tapped on his ear. "whisper it to me."

james lowered his head at the level of his best friend's ear and whispered his answer. you girls tried your best to read his lips but it was no use.

"oh." an amused look appeared on sirius's face and he looked at you. you stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

come on, james. are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

——————————————————————

the gryffindor quidditch team won the cup.

just when it seemed that they were going to lose against hufflepuffs, james caught the snitch, making the score 250 - 260 for the reds.

you were never more proud of him than in that very moment. you jumped from your seat and yelled his name in a cheering tone, clapping so hard your hands almost hurt. like if he heard you, his brown eyes found yours in the crowd. he grinned and sent you a wink and a kiss. james was thanking you, you were his lucky charm.

that night, the gryffindors threw the biggest party ever. it was many student's last game at hogwarts so it was also a goodbye party. all of the team members were there and talked about the match and their time playing together in general.

quidditch wasn't your thing. you were the stereotypical ravenclaw and you'd much rather be in your bed, under cover and reading a book. but james practically begged you to be there. after all, it was thanks to you that they won. you knew that wasn't the truth but you couldn't say no to him and you were glad you didn't. he looked so happy and beautiful and you couldn't help but admire him.

"let's play truth or dare!" marlene's voice rang through the common room and every person there agreed.

"i think i'm gonna go back to my dorm, it's late," you yelled over the loud music into james's ear.

"nooo," james pouted and give you a puppy look, he got a hold of your hand. "you can't leave now. please? just stay here for ten more minutes."

you sighed. you hated how easily you'll do anything he says.

"alright," you said and let him drag you to the circle of people in the middle of the room. a lot of people had gone to sleep already or some could be found vomiting in the bathroom so there weren't a lot of you. you sat down next to each other and waited for the game to start.

marlene picked up an empty whiskey bottle and spun it around. it landed on mary and she groaned, knowing that her friend has some of the most. . . interesting questions and dares.

"mary," marlene grinned widely. "truth or dare?"

"truth."

the blonde took a few seconds to think of a question before asking, "the freakiest place you did it at."

"that would be. . . a bed of one of my dorm mates."

"what?" lily, alice and marlene asked in terror, each of them wondering whose bed was it.

mary smiled innocently. "my turn," she spun the bottle. and then, everyone glanced at the boy beside you. you let out a sigh of relief.

"jamie, truth o—"

"dare."

a devilish smile crept onto the girl's lips.

"kiss y/n."

your eyes went wide as the people around you let out an "oooooh".

"mary!" you hissed. "what the f—"

before you could finish your sentence, you were rudely interrupted.

he tasted of— well, alcohol. rum and coke, to be exact. but it didn't matter. he was kissing you, and your whole body was on fire, your heart rate raised to at least hundred more beats per minute and fireworks. it was maybe cliché, yes. but it was the truth.

before you could fully register what the hell was happening, he was pulling away, making your lips feel cold at the sudden loss of the warmth of his mouth.

his gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes.

"i imagined our first kiss differently," he spoke in a low voice so only you could hear, sounding disappointed. he reached for the bottle and spun it around so the game could continue.

you stared at him for at least ten more seconds. you couldn't believe what just happened and what he said after.

and you started to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

——————————————————————

and in a blink of a crinkling eye, you were at sirius's and remus's apartment, sitting on james's lap in the living room. all of your boyfriend’s closest friends were there and just like any other saturday night, you had a film night. tonight, it was american pie.

james and you started dating only recently. it’s been a month,to be exact. so everything felt still really new. and you felt embarrassing for the fact that he still had the same effect on you like when you were bittersweet sixteen. it takes you back to the times when you used to admire him only from afar. but now, you get to kiss him. you get to touch him. 

like, for example, he was just touching you. as you tried to stifle your sighs, everyone seemed to be paying a great attention to the film. except for you two, of course. you coud not focus when james was constantly placing kisses in the crook of your neck and your shoulders.  you could not focus when one of his hands was drawing on the skin of yourupper thigh. you could not focus when his hot  breath made you shudder.

“james,”  you sighed quietly. “you got to stop.”

“and why would i do that?” he whispered back.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’re horrible.”

he shrugged. “you love me.”

oh, you did.

out of the blue, he spoke louder, “guys, me and y/n are sorry but we’re pretty tired so we’re headed home.”

huh?

all of your friends looked at each other and than back at you, saying “suuuuureee” in union.

“james, why are we leaving?” you ran outside after him.

he turned around and smiled. “you already know.”

“aw, we’re horrible!” you pouted playfully. “we’re abandoning our friends to have sex.”

“i’m sure they understand,�� he said as he opened the door of his car. “remus and sirius used to do that all the time.”

you burst out laughing and let him pull you to the back seat.

no one’s ever had you, not like him.

[heavenlyvision]

˚₊‧⁺⋆༄ dearest pt.II first part ˗ˏˋ here ˎˊ˗ pairing: Vamp!Tomas x reader wc: 7k warnings: 18+ only, smut, mentions of injuries, blood drinking, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v sex, minor cumplay, -- like tiniest amount, afab!reader, no pronouns or y/n used, pet names used; dear/dearest a/n; i hope you enjoy it !!! i know this took a while for me to finish and i'm thankful to you all for being so patient !!! <333 MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Most of your day is spent being anxious about Tomas’ promise to return tonight, you don’t know what he’s expecting, or if he’s expecting anything at all. Last night… sleeping with him was stupid, he’s not even really Tomas, you mean… he is… but he’s not. What even is his end game here, was it to sleep with you? Does he plan on killing you? And what is your end game? Surely you can’t leave him like this… you don’t want to leave him like this, you miss your Tomas.

The way you’re feeling is getting hazy and the lines are blurring, you’ve grown too attached to someone who isn’t even their original self. How would Tomas feel when he comes back, only to see you left him like that for so long, would he still look at you the way he used to? With kindness and adoration, or would he condemn you and tell you that you’ve broken his trust. These thoughts that plague you are debilitating, whatever you decide to do, you need to do it soon. Maybe you’ll be able to talk to him tonight… or maybe that’s not a great idea.

A knock on your door startles you out of your thoughts, looking to the clock you can see it’s about the time Kuai Liang visits everyday but when you open it, the only person in front of you is Harumi.

“Hi! It’s just me today, Kuai is a little bit busy but I’d like to chat, we’ve not spoken in a while,” she smiles at you, it’s kind but also mildly strained.

You eye her for a few moments, feeling uneasy by her lack of explanation and Kuai’s lack of presence, “…Yeah, uhh… come on in,” you say, stepping off to the side to let her into your home.

She brushes past you and moves to the small dining table, sitting as she asks, “How have you been?”

Lingering awkwardly, you answer, “I have been… fine I guess,” you pass her on the way into the kitchen, “Tea?”

“Yes, thank you,” she fiddles with her fingers against the table and quietly waits for you to return with tea, not speaking again until you’re done in the kitchen and sitting across from her, “I just wanted to come by and check on you, make sure you’re… well,” she blows on her drink, watching you carefully.

“I’ve been fine, not great but nothing has changed since yesterday,” you’re lying through your teeth, you just hope she doesn’t notice.

She has come here for a reason today and you aren’t quite sure what it is but she knows something, you can only hope she doesn’t know about Tomas visiting you nightly. The reactions you’d get from her, from everyone, well, to be quite honest are frightening to think about. You’ve waited so long now and there isn’t any real or good reason as to why – besides the fact that you enjoy Tomas and all of his attention, foolishly, you like him.

This visit is incredibly uncomfortable, you know why you’re uncomfortable but you can’t figure out why she’s uncomfortable. It’s been a good few moments now, of her trying to think of something to say and failing.

Your patience is growing thin and as you sigh, you decide to be blunt, “Has something happened, Harumi? You seem to be worrying about something.”

Her eyes grow wide for a second before she collects herself, “No, nothing has happened… I guess I’m just worried over Tomas, I’m not supposed to tell you… but he’s been moving closer to the village, I’m just a little concerned for you.”

If you hadn’t known her for so long, you’d believe her but she’s still withholding something from you. It is an incredibly good cover though, “I am not worried, I can take care of myself,” you offer in an attempt to ease her nerves, she’s lying but she’s still genuinely concerned for you, you believe that much.

She smiles appreciatively at you but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “Thank you,” she murmurs, taking a sip of her drink.

The visit isn’t long, she doesn’t linger like Kuai Liang does, she came to check on you, have a small chat and then she’s out the door. It’s something you value about her, not really being one to linger yourself. It’s not often she drops by on her own though, her solo visit has raised alarm bells in your mind.

You’re on edge for the rest of the day, leg bouncing anytime you try to sit still, too much anxious energy pent up inside you. You can’t focus enough to do anything though, nothing holding your attention long enough to forget about your situation. The day can’t go by slow enough, you want it to hurry up so you can see Tomas and talk to him, maybe he has answers, or will be able to offer you some comfort… wait, since when did you start seeking him for comfort?

˚₊‧⁺⋆༄

Frustratedly, Tomas did not come by last night like he had promised, you waited, even stayed up significantly longer than you usually do, only for him to neglect to visit. It’s not characteristic of him, not when he’s made it an active habit to see you every night for the past few months. For him to suddenly stop out of nowhere, it hurts if you’re honest. It hurts because it feels like he’s gotten what he wanted from you, like he’s lost interest suddenly after fucking you.

Though, it’s suspicious too, especially since Kuai Liang also neglected to come by, sending Harumi in his steed. The lack of communication here is annoying and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to fix it, having to just deal with it whether you want to or not. It’s not like you can ask anyone if they’ve seen Tomas and you certainly can’t ask Kuai, not when he doesn’t even visit.

You’re feeling a little aimless and still on edge, it feels like every muscle in your body is wound tight and like you’re ready to fight back against anything that could give you a mild fright. You can’t sit in your house all day again, you’re going to go stir crazy, you might start bouncing off the walls. Instead of rotting away in your house, you wander around the village, even visiting people you’ve not spoken to in months, not since Tomas’ original disappearance.

It's nice but by the time you’re done, there is a significant amount of day left and you’re still high strung. This is frustrating you to no end, so you choose to go for a walk, not particularly enjoying the thought of it, only hoping it will expend enough energy and that you’ll be too tired to continue to be anxious.

Walking is honestly, annoying, it feels pointless, you know it isn’t and that there are benefits, you just personally feel no benefits from it. You don’t experience the mental clarity; you experience mental irritability. Almost as soon as you start, you want to stop but you’re determined to waste your time, maybe if this irritates you enough, you’ll be too focused on being annoyed to remember everything else.

You can’t be sure how much time passes, but you sure are irritated, instead of forgetting things though, it’s just piling all together. Frustration reaching a new point, you want to scream and kick your legs and have a full-blown tantrum but you just keep going, keep moving forward. You… aren’t used to feeling this uncertain for this long, normally you know what the right thing to do is and maybe if you were being honest with yourself, you’d realise you already know what the right thing to do is but just because it’s the right thing… doesn’t mean it’s easy.  

When you finally turn around and head back home, you’re sufficiently tired by the time you walk through the front door. The first thing you do is head for the shower, washing the day away before collapsing onto the couch, it doesn’t take long for sleep to find you. It isn’t intentional but you also don’t really mind, happy that you’re finally exhausted enough to sleep at all.

˚₊‧⁺⋆༄

It’s been a couple more days now and you still haven’t heard from Tomas, at first it mostly hurt and was vaguely concerning, now it’s starting to just feel concerning. You’ve seen Kuai Liang once, he visited yesterday quickly, to check in on you but he seemed… similar to how Harumi was acting, like he knows something that he’s keeping from you. No one is saying anything to you, so you’re taking things into your own hands. Maybe visiting people again and talking to them will result in some kind of gossip, someone has to have seen something helpful.

Being nosey proves to be fruitful, people tell you little tidbits and what you’ve gathered is – Kuai Liang has seemed on edge the past few days, he has recently asked people if they’ve seen anything unusual, and has been searching the nearby land a lot more frequently. You don’t have to be a genius to figure out he’s had some kind of run in with Tomas, whether he actually made contact or only saw him, you have no way of knowing but you know he’s clearly had some kind of confirmation of his proximity to the village and he must have witnessed his presence himself for it to have affected him this much.

Knowing Kuai has seen Tomas is worrisome, you don’t think Kuai will hurt his brother, he believes he can be helped. It’s Tomas who might react more…violently, he’s not adverse to injuring people, he’s grievously hurt some people just to make a point. To completely dismiss the idea of him harming Kuai Liang would be foolish, though it seems Tomas is avoiding him at the moment so you can be thankful for that much, he’s not actively aiming to attack him. Small miracles or whatever, you just hope Tomas comes by soon… you’re worried about him, the hurt you felt has passed, especially since it seems like he’s been avoiding getting too close because of Kuai Liang, at least… that’s what you’re telling yourself, until proven wrong.

The sun has gone down by the time you get home, though it’s not quite late, you just spent a lot of the daylight in the village, you think you’re finding joy in talking with people again. That or you’ve been feeling lonely since you’ve been getting less visitors lately. Brushing off the thought, you commence your nightly routine of showering and cooking dinner for yourself.

It’s not until after dinner that you’re graced by Tomas’ presence, you’re washing up in the kitchen when you hear thumping as he stumbles into your house. It makes you jump, all the noise he makes as he clumsily enters your home.

“Tomas! What the hell? Where have you–” moving closer, you take in the state of him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m all good,” he smiles at you, “How have you been?”

He looks really tired, “I’ve been…” you frown deeply as you remember how you’ve been, “I’ve been worried! What happened to you for the past few days?”

He looks guilty, well… as guilty as he can manage, “A lot happened, I–”

“–You slept with me and then disappeared for three whole days,” you cross your arms, still eyeing him carefully, concerned.

“Yes, I see how it may look like that,” he scratches the back of his neck.

Your eyes scrutinise him, “It doesn’t just look like that, that is objectively what happened.”

“From your perspective yes, but a lot… a lot happened, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging… I just couldn’t get close enough to see you again,” he sighs, dejectedly.

You cross your arms, sizing him up, “Well, now that you’re here, can you explain what has happened?”

“I can, I just need to sit down or something,” he rubs at his eyes.

There is something definitely wrong with him, he looks exhausted, you don’t think he could look any worse, “…Yeah, just… lay down on the couch, I’ll get some extra blankets.”

“I won’t need them,” he reminds.

You pause, “Maybe not for warmth but the comfort would be nice… right?”

He smiles at you softly, so slight that you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t watch him so closely, “Sure.” You know he’s lying for your sake, but you’ll get him the blankets anyways.

When you come back into the living room, Tomas has made himself comfortable on your couch, you go to give him the blankets and his hand brushes yours as he takes them. You aren’t sure if he’s going to use them or not, but he unfolds one and stretches it out over himself, he’s quite large under the small throw blanket, not that he seems to mind. He uses the other to prop his head up on the arm of the couch, he looks a little ridiculous actually, his feet don’t fit under the throw and his head does not look comfortable like that.

You frown at him but there’s an amused smile ghosting your lips, Tomas looks at you, “What?”

“You look ridiculous… you don’t have to use the blankets if you’re uncomfortable,” you move to sit in the armchair facing him.

He frowns, his tone defensive, “No, I will be using them.”

Lightly huffing an amused breath, you say, “Alright! I’m not stopping you…” You let him settle in some more before asking again, in a polite way, “…What happened, Tomas?”

His eyes flick to yours quickly before looking straight ahead, “I ran into Kuai Liang…after I left yours.

You stay silent, mostly because you’re thinking too many things to be able to pick which question you should ask first and you’re hoping he’ll offer that information on his own. But the silence persists, he just lays there, his eyes closing as he sinks further into your couch.

He must feel your increasingly aggravated staring though because he sighs, “We fought.”

The annoyance you’re feeling towards him increases tenfold, “Why are you withholding? Just tell me everything that happened–”

“–Why?” He glances over to you, smirk plastered on his face, “You worried about me? You care about me, about my safety?”

The urge to roll your eyes is strong but you worry that if you give into that urge now, they’ll permanently be placed at the back of your head by the time this conversation is finished, “More worried about what you may have done.”

He huffs at you, amused by your inability to admit you care for him, “Kuai Liang is fine, I had a feeling if anything happened to him you would get upset so I played defence, I didn’t even hurt him… that bad… I think.”

Your tone is flat, “Are you kidding?”

He blinks at you, “I don’t think so.”

When you saw Kuai he seemed fine, so you’re going to assume if he was hurt, it really wasn’t that bad but that doesn’t mean you’re elated by all of this. In fact, you’d say you’re pretty well on your way to being pissed off right about now, you can feel your eyebrow beginning to twitch.

“Okay, listen… before you get upset, just know I really did try my best to avoid a fight,” he moves to try and sit up but winces as he does, only making it about halfway up.

Frowning, you move over to him, kneeling on the floor, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” his hand holds over his stomach as he continues to sit up, his legs still laying across the length of the couch.

You’re beginning to get exasperated, “Okay… so, am I not worrying about it or are you fine?”

He pinches his brows, “Both.”

He’s frustrating you and he knows it, you tug at his clothes to try and see what may have happened, “Stop being annoying and–”

“–You know…if you wanted me to undress for you, all you had to do was ask,” he throws that smug smile your way and you feel like you might start vibrating with your irritation.

Tugging your hands back, you slump to the floor beside him, “Tomas please– just let me look at you…”

“Listen.” He waits for you to look him in the eyes again before continuing, “When I ran into Kuai we fought and I was focused on not hurting him… he nicked me is all, it really isn’t bad.”

You’re confused, “That was days ago… why aren’t you healed yet?”

He looks away from you, “It’s not important.”

Thinking on it, you realise it’s pretty clear why he’s not healing, “Tomas…”

“I’m fine,” he asserts.

You place your hand on his, “You could be finer though… I can help.”

His voice is firm, “No.”

He’s back to annoying you, “Why not?” You whinge slightly, hand tugging away in your irritation.

He sighs heavily, “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

You don’t appreciate his tone, “I’m fairly certain I do.”

He repeats his previous sentiments with a simple, “You don’t.”

You spell it out for him, to show him you do understand, “I’m offering to help you heal faster by letting you drink my blood, there isn’t much to not get–”

He’s growing frustrated with you now, “–You aren’t understanding the gravity of letting me do that.”

You understand his trepidations, but you want to help, “…Tomas–”

“–What if I can’t control myself? You are literally the last person I’d ever want to hurt…” He’s frowning to himself, agonising over the thought.

Reaching out, you go to touch him on his arm again, attempting to offer comfort but it only makes him tense in response, “I want to help and… I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.” He looks you straight in your eyes, his brow set, tone serious, “You’re not understanding just how good you smell to me,” you have a feeling, that if he could manage it, he’d walk away from you.

His words effect you in a way they probably shouldn’t, at least not in this moment anyways, you push away the feelings swirling in your stomach and refocus, “Let me at least see how bad you’re hurt then.”

The hardness in his eyes softens and he nods, a good choice because you were not about to let this go. He moves to sit on the couch properly, no longer laying across it and you stand to help him undress his upper half. You try to be careful, but he still winces at some movements made, his discomfort more apparent now that he’s not trying to hide it from you. Once you’ve managed to get his layers off, you shuffle to sit beside him and look him over, he lets you get your eyeful.

It's honestly not as bad as you were picturing, still not great, if he were human you’d be running to get your first aid kit, but you know of a quicker and hassle-free way to have this fixed fairly soon.

He must feel how hard you’re thinking because he says, “I’m good, it’s fine.”

“Doesn’t look fine,” you quirk a single brow at him.

He keeps a straight face, “Well…” He looks down at his wound and then back at you, “It is.”

“I don’t want to keep going round like this, you’re being unnecessarily stubborn, let me help or I’ll…” You pause to think of a good threat.

He just smiles smugly at you, waiting for your threat patiently, nodding his head in encouragement.

“I’ll…” You look at him sternly, “I’ll never let you touch me again.”

“Well, that seems like an overreaction,” his expression is still overwhelmingly amused, not taking you seriously at all.

You huff out a sigh and slump slightly, “I just want to help.”

“I know you do,” his hand reaches out to cradle the side of your face, “But it’s not necessary.”

Leaning into his touch, you offer a different perspective, “If the roles were reversed and I was the one who was hurt, would you be so quick to give up your argument and not help?”

“I don’t think that’s the same,” he defends himself, badly.

You go to argue with him, but he predicts that move and instead kisses you, he’s gentle about it, kissing you sweetly for only a moment before pulling back. Frowning, you try to remember what you were going to say, “Tomas… seriously, just bite me.”

He hums at you, “No,” he murmurs, moving in to kiss you again.

You stop him, holding a finger to his lips, “I want you to bite me.”

“You into that sort of thing?” He speaks against your finger.

Choosing to fuck with him, you reply, “Yes.”

He groans at you, “You make everything difficult.”

You drop your finger, “Me!?” You’re shocked by his audacity to accuse you of being difficult when this conversation could’ve ended ages ago.

“Yes, you,” he grumbles out mildly annoyed, before pressing his lips onto yours again, this time less gentle about it all.

His kiss is deep and unapologetic, his tongue licks into your mouth, you moan at his forcefulness. The hand on your face tilts your head so he can have more access to you, his other hand gropes at the fat of your hip, wanting to tug you closer, he wants you in his lap.

Parting from him, you voice concern, “Tomas, I don’t think I should sit on you, right now.”

“I disagree, in fact I think you should always sit on me,” he tries to pull you onto him more.

You place your hands on his shoulders, “No, Tomas, seriously, I’m worried about hurting you–”

“–It’d be worth it,” he smiles but you frown at him, and he drops his smile, instead offering, “It’s fine, you’re not going to hurt me.”

You insist, “I don’t want to risk–”

He gets sick of this back and forth and cuts you off by moving you into his lap with ease, apparently his initial attempts were just for show. “I’m not made of glass,” he leans in close, his lips brushing your cheek, “I could still fuck you stupid.”

Deciding to spin this in your favour, you say, “If you want to do anything more than just kiss me, you’ll have to bite me.”

“I really don’t want to hurt you, dear,” his thumb brushes high on your cheekbone.

“This is my first, final, and only offer, if you want to… go any further tonight, you’ll have to drink from me,” you shrug, playing at indifference despite knowing he’s done an exceptional job at making you wet without trying very hard.

Dropping his hands to your thighs, he shuts his eyes and sighs, his head leaning onto the back of the couch.

Cruelly, you grind your cunt down into his pelvis, hoping to incite some kind of reaction, this is quickly changing from wanting to help heal him, to wanting him to bite you while plowing into you. His response is a deep groan and his fingers gripping your thighs harshly, his dick jerking underneath you.

He opens his eyes to look at you, “You’re not playing fairly.”

Quirking a brow at him, you ask, “Would you?”

“Of course not,” he smiles, leaning up again, “But you know… you’re giving away your intentions.”

You feign ignorance, “I’ve not a clue as to what you’re referring.”

“Keep going, keep rubbing your pretty, little cunt down into me and we’ll see who ends up more affected,” he hums, “But remember… I can smell you,” he moves his lips to the side of your ear, “And dear, you smell divine.”

You don’t move, mostly out of spite, he’s overly confident and there’s good reason for it but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss you off, just a little bit, “I’m not doing a single thing.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder and his hands rub up and down your thighs, a faint humming leaving him in thought. Turning his head to the side, he licks along the expanse of your neck, when he reaches your jaw, he presses a small kiss to it. Trailing his lips back to yours but you turn your head just before he can kiss your lips and he huffs a sigh in response.

“I can’t even kiss you now?” He questions.

You pout, looking away from him, “No.”

Sighing, he asks, “You want me to bite you this bad?”

Turning back to face him, you add, “Please?”

“Fuuck–” his brows pull together in thought for a moment, “Fine.” You go to celebrate your win, but he cuts you off, “But you need to tell me if it hurts, or if you’re dizzy or if you just don’t want me touching you anymore, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile at him.

He looks worried, like he’s still not sure if this is a good idea, “Alright, just… relax for me.”

“I am relaxed,” you reach out with both your hands and cradle his face, “You need to relax,” leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling back and waiting for him to bite you.

He takes a breath, “Kiss me again?”

Moving your hands to his shoulders, you lean in again to kiss him, you mean for it to be quick, but he lightly grabs the side of your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you deeper. His lips are insistent and his free hand gropes at you. His sudden parting from you has a whimper leaving your lips but he’s already trailing his kisses from the corner of your mouth down your cheek, past your jaw, to your neck.

He doesn’t bite you, not straight away, he sucks and licks at your neck first, leaving gentle kisses in between. He nips lightly at your skin, and you stifle a moan at it, not wanting him to know just how aroused you’re getting from the thought of him biting you. The way his mouth quirks against you has you doubting that you’re hiding anything from him though. Thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it and instead presses a single peck to your neck.

Pulling back, he looks you in the eyes one last time, wanting to check that you’re absolutely okay with this. When he’s satisfied, he nuzzles into your neck, you move your head to the side, offering him more room. His teeth lightly graze your skin before slowly sinking into your skin, the pain shocks you but dulls as he lathes over the spot with his tongue, licking at your blood.

It’s a new feeling, the ache of his teeth in your skin, it’s making you hazy. Tomas moans into your skin both from the taste and because you’ve begun absentmindedly grinding down into his lap, seeking friction. When he pulls back, he moves to see your reaction, to make sure you’re still okay.

In all honesty, it doesn’t feel like he drank that much from you, “I thought you would take… more.”

“Mmm, I want to bite you elsewhere,” he moves in and continues to lick at the blood left behind.

Seemingly keeping true to his word, he shuffles to move you. He’s careful as he does, laying you down against the couch gently. Getting himself comfortable, he leans over you, a smile prominent on his lips. Your clothes are his next focus, his hands pulling at you. You want to help him but as you rise he places a hand on your chest and lightly pushes you back down.

Arching your back, you make it easier for him to take off your shirt, “Don’t overdo it.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles in mindless agreement, though he’s not really listening now, too busy looking at your tits.

“Tomas.”

His eyes flick to yours, “Sorry dear, what did you say?”

Squinting at him, you repeat, “I said, don’t overdo it.”

“I am fine,” he leans back to show you wear he had been injured, “Look, already healing better.”

It is, it’s still there and looks irritated but the minimal amount of blood he took from you seems to have helped a great deal. It’s less open and for that you’re thankful but it still has to be tender, “Just be careful.”

“Someone might mistake that for you caring about me,” he has a giddy look in his eyes.

Smiling at him, you say, sheepishly, “Well, I might not go that far.”

He hums at you with a slight smile on his face, not believing you. His hands move to your lower half, pulling off your bottoms, your underwear are tugged off along with them. He’s not wasting any time tonight, eager to have you naked underneath him.

Maybe if he were to give you a little time to think, you’d feel more embarrassed about how he’s stripped you bare and pulled your legs apart all within the span of a minute but he’s not giving you that time, he’s already shuffling himself in between your legs. Your legs which have been haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, you could’ve sworn you just told him to be careful.

He trails his lips along your inner thigh, his touch so gentle it makes a shiver run down your spine, “Can I still bite you?”

You feel fuzzy, his words not completely registering when his breath is tickling your inner thigh, “You can do whatever you like.”

A big grin breaks out across his face, you can feel it, you don’t get a chance to correct your statement or make a snarky remark though, he’s already sinking his teeth into the soft expanse of your thigh. You jump slightly but he holds you steady, growls leave him, clearly enjoying this immensely.

When he parts, he licks and sucks at your thigh, not letting your blood go to waste, “Still with me?”

You feel a little hazy still, but you don’t know if that’s from him biting you or the position he’s put you in, he’s so close to your pussy and you want so badly for him to just put his mouth on you–

“­–Hey,” his voice cuts off your thoughts and you look down to him, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm, yeah, I’m all good,” your head flops back onto the couch once you’ve answered him.

He sighs, “Mmm, is that so?” His thumbs move to your cunt and spread your lips apart so he can hungrily gaze at you on complete display, “You okay with me leaving you like this?...” His thumb runs through your slick heat, “…Or do you want me to do something to help?”

He places his thumb over your clit, not moving, just keeping steady pressure and it’s driving you insane. You want more, you need him to do more, he’s being purposefully cruel now, he wants it just as bad as you do. He also likes to hear how much you want him though and he’s not going to give you any sort of relief before you do.

On another day, maybe you hold out longer, tease him back, but today you’re all too happy to bend to his will, “Tomas…” His eyes shoot to yours, “I missed you.”

The look in his eyes lower and a huffed breath leaves him, “You play dirty.”

“I wasn’t trying to– ah,” you get cut off by his tongue licking at you, up the length of your cunt.

Genuinely, you were trying to give into him, but you seem to have said something that carried more weight than you expected it too. His tongue drags heavy on your pussy, flicking at your clit just to watch your thighs shake and body twitch. Unconsciously, your thighs go to close around his head, he moves he hands to keep them apart. He doesn’t stop there though, he pulls them open and up, almost folding you half.

His mouth doesn’t leave you, in fact, his tongue enters you, his nose presses into your clit, he’s trying to taste as much of you as he can. The wet slurping sounds he’s making are obscene, the room filled with how he laps at your cunt. He’s getting you close to finishing embarrassingly quickly but just when you think you could cum like this, he pulls his mouth back and bites into your other thigh.

Two of his fingers slip into your cunt just as his teeth puncture your skin, the simultaneous feelings are like a gut punch, you twitch and go to cover your mouth as his thumb reaches your clit and circles it harshly. A loud moan slips from you and is caught by your hands, the resulting sound a muffled cry. You cum around his fingers, your thighs shaking with it, Tomas moans into your skin, feeling your cunt pulse around his fingers and your blood coating his tongue, it has his control slipping.

Retracting his teeth and fingers from you at the same time, he slips the two fingers that were in you into your mouth. You take them, glassy eyes looking at him, your blood stains his mouth now, he was messier about his last bite. Slipping your tongue between his two fingers makes him shiver, the look in his eyes is dumb and sated.

When he pulls his fingers from you, he watches intently as they leave your mouth, he trails them, wet and slick down your chin, neck, sternum, all the way back down to your cunt. You gasp against the sensitive feeling, he pushes them inside you, crooking them up, his thumb already back on your clit.

“I really do love watching you cum,” he mumbles mindlessly. Going to say his name results in a pathetically moaned sound leaving you, it makes him smile deviously, “Trying to say something, dearest?”

You shake your head no at him, huffing out small sounds as his fingers pick up speed, his eyes never leave yours, intent on watching you the whole time, wanting to see every expression you make.

He leans down, free hand holding himself up, “Tell me again.” Your thoughts are garbled, and your eyes get lazy, unfocused, “Stay with me, I want to hear it again – how you missed me.”

You focus back on him, words slurring slightly, “Missed you so much, Tomas– hah.”

His fingers speed up again, his thumb harsh on your clit, you spasm around his fingers, your stomach pulling tight.

“I missed you too,” he smiles at you, his fangs showing through it.

Your back arches against the couch, “I– I was –mmphf– I was worried about you~”

Tomas curses at your confession, his head swimming with affection for you, he pulls his fingers from you suddenly and you whimper at the loss, “No– no, don’t be sad, I just can’t fucking wait any longer.”

The overwhelming need for you has overpowered him, he’s shucking his pants down his thighs carelessly. Pulling his cock out and immediately guiding it to your cunt, he slips the head of it through your folds a few times before slowly entering you. He’s trying to take his time and be gentle, he really is but he’s so suddenly desperate to be balls deep he can’t seem to find the patience to open you up for him more.

He makes it easier for you though, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. It’s completely unexpected when you cum on the first few inches of his cock like this, a bitten back moan leaving you as shudders run through you. He had gotten you so close before retracting his fingers, the fullness now and way he was playing with you had your forgotten orgasm being not so forgotten.

“Tomas– it’s –ah–” You can’t even get out what you want to say, though you’re not entirely sure what you wanted to say. Cumming on his dick makes you go cross eyed, your hips moving to grind up into him, wanting so badly to be stuffed full as you orgasm.

He grunts out, “Fuck–” before taking advantage of your gushing pussy and slips balls deep, a loud and deep moan leaving him, “So incredibly slick, my dear,” he grinds down into you, his pelvis digging into your clit, he’s trying to give you a moment to breathe but he desires friction. “You never cease to amaze me, so incredibly perfect… responsive.”

Ironically, your cunt twitches at his words and a devilish smirk makes an appearance on his face, as if to gloat about his previously accurate statement, “I don’t know… if I can handle another,” your eyes are wet and unthinking when you look up at him.

“You can handle another,” he groans, dragging his cock out at the same time as he speaks, “Been so good to me tonight, I’m just returning the favour.”

He slams back into you, a high-pitched whine leaving you, matched against his low one, “I jus wanted to help –mmph–”

“And help you did, so incredibly helpful,” his words are coming quickly as he starts thrusting into you more consistently, “Taste absolutely divine, dear. Few moments there –ngh– I was scared of hurting you, you’re such an overwhelming presence in all facets of my life.”

Lewd and wet slapping sounds follow each of his thrusts, his hips fucking into you at a speed that makes your head spin. You’re not really capable of responding to him anymore, you’re as good as gone. His cock hits so deep inside you, he tickles your cervix, a thrilling kind of pain following each of his deep thrusts.

“You wanna know something?” He leans in, getting impossibly closer, deeper.

He’s waiting for your response, “Yeah– hah– mmph~”

He engulfs your mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue in your mouth before you can really register that he’s kissed you. He’s heated and rushed; kissing you in such a needy way that you can’t even keep up with him. When he pulls back a string of saliva connects the both of your mouths, he licks his lower lip, disconnecting it.

“I could smell how fucking wet you were getting each time I bit you,” he huffs breathlessly into your ear, “Fresh arousal drenching your cunt every time my teeth sunk into you, do you know how hard it is to focus on not taking much blood from you when you’re getting horny from it?”

“S–sorry,” you apologise but your pussy clenches down on him, his words working you up.

“No, don’t apologise, dear. You did nothing wrong, nothing.” He traces wet and sloppy kisses down the side of your face and neck, “I just meant to say, I think you would cum awful hard if I were to bite you at the same time, don’t you?”

Before you can comprehend the conclusion he’s given you, his hips switch from slamming into you, to grinding when he re-enters, the added stimulation makes you stupid, slurred words of praise and his name leaving you. Just as you’re about to climax, he bites into your neck, he doesn’t drink from you this time, he just sinks his teeth into your flesh. The pain rockets through you and you finish all over his cock, fresh, creamy, cum leaving you and leaking down his dick, a white ring left at the base of it.

The sound he makes is feral and not human, deep animalistic groans leaving him at the way you squeeze his dick so tight. He forces his way through all the sensations he’s feeling, fucking into your tight, spasming cunt, the slick of you making it easier. You’re so fucked open on him that he’s getting dizzy thinking about it, about how well you take his fat cock.

Raising his upper half, he looks down to where he’s fucking you, at the mess you’ve made, at the bite marks on your thighs, it’s all driving him wild. There’s very clear evidence of him being here and it’s sending pleasure down his spine to his core.

His dick jerks and twitches and as he looks at your face, at the gooey look in your eyes, at the unshed tears sitting in your waterline, he cums. It forces its way through him, the sensation almost making him spiral, he’s already cumming when he remembers what he wanted to do.

Pulling out, he aims the rest of his cum at your cunt and thighs, wanting to leave evidence of him all over you. He almost whimpers at the sight of your pussy leaking and being coated in him. Absently, he takes his hand and places it in his spend, smearing it up your stomach and grabbing your tit, leaving evidence of it there too.

You gasp at how he grabs at your breast, his slick forefinger and thumb tweaking your nipple, “Tomas–” You moan out to him.

His eyes shoot to yours and he looks sheepish, “Sorry…I got carried away.”

Mumbling lazily, you ask, “Are you okay?”

He bites a laugh at your question, “Are you kidding? I feel fantastic.” He moves in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, “How do you feel? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay…tired,” you wrap your arms around him, pulling him down into you for a hug.

He breathes in the scent of you, committing it to memory, “You should sleep, I’ll carry you to bed–”

You object, cutting him off, “–No… you’ll be gone when I wake up, I really did miss you…”

He can’t hide the way your words make him glow with joy, “How about, we shower and see how you feel?”

“Mmmkay, you’re gonna need to do all the work though…” He’s already picking you up off the couch halfway through your sentence, “…Don’t think I can walk.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” he chuckles, carrying you off down the hallway.

˚₊‧⁺⋆༄

IT IS DONE !!!!!! MWUAHAHA!!! i hope you enjoyed it :3

[reveluving]

heartburn ; the ghoul x reader

summary: kindness gets people killed in the wasteland, and yet, cooper can't help it when it's you.

warnings: s~mut obv (minors DNI!), pre-war performer/entertainer!reader (for your creativity!); now an immortal ‘smoothskin’, soft as hell but our lovely ghoul is still a loud mouth, age gap but not really (think of him in his 40s & you in your 20s/30s but both in 200-ish years old), typical fallout violence & explicit language, loads of banter & fluff!

a/n: it’s here! based on this because the brain rot was (and is) so real. decided to call this the ‘la rouge series’, just to make it easier for tagging and when any lil’ pieces/asks come in. hope you guys enjoy & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about my writing? come & check out my main m.list!

» smut includes: possessive soft & slightly mean dom!cooper, ‘pretty girl’ & baby as pet names, dirty talk i.e. + about exhibitionism (it doesn’t happen tho!), body appreciation, nipple play, spanking, fingering, a bit of edging/teasing, unprotected s~ex (p in v), bits of aftercare but overall, coop likes it nasty.

'It was worth holding back a witty remark during moments like these if it meant seeing you light up each time.' ;

It should’ve been uncomfortable; the sheen of perspiration building up along your body, despite the cooler night, albeit marginally as opposed to the day. Had it not been for the ceiling fan, no matter how slow it gets once in a while, you were indebted to its existence. 

Especially at this exact moment, throwing your head and watching the contraption spin above you as Cooper bucked up into you. 

Lucy had dozed off, you checked an hour prior, finding her asleep in the old guestroom when you stopped by. Maximus, too, snoring away on the wingback chair next to her. Whether it was because you entered with light steps or the duo were bone-tired, you had successfully spread the thin sheets over their figures before turning the table lamp off—all of which Cooper watched behind the door, feeling an overwhelming emotion brewing in him. 

You barely knew them, hell, he was there when you shot Lucy a chilling look, realizing she was the daddy’s girl, but beyond that, you also saw two souls who were… lost. A set of strangers who wanted nothing more than to do the good thing, even if you didn't agree with their beliefs. And yet, the old caring nature in you couldn’t help but offer at least some form of appreciation for their humanity. 

You held yourself back when Lucy babbled, even if—when you wanted nothing more than to cuss her father out. You didn’t lash out when she asked about your time in the shelters way before her mother was around. You acknowledged Maximus’s good intentions, even if they were a little gullible. 

Cooper noticed it all, and fuck, if your unmoveable kindness wasn’t disgustingly the sweetest and sexiest thing he had ever seen.

It all felt like a typical romance movie after that, when you crossed paths in the living room, with you on your way to the kitchen when he stopped you. Delicately (and uncharacteristically, you might add) holding your wrist and tugging you to his chest to stare into your dreamy eyes. How a smile naturally bloomed on your face as you reached for his jaw. He indulged in your cutesy behaviour, as he always does, angling his head to kiss your palm while your eyes remained locked. It was worth holding back a witty remark during moments like these if it meant seeing you light up each time.

Not that you couldn’t handle them, if anything, putting him in his place wasn’t unheard of—you knew how to shut him up with that aura of yours from time to time.

But make no mistake; he knew how to get you tongue-tied, too.

He dipped his head, and the kiss that came was nasty. Swallowing your little gasp when he took hold of your jaw. 

“Here?” You whispered incredulously between giggles when he led you to the couch. All he gave you was a grunt, falling back into the seat and pulling you with him. Your legs snugged around his as he encouraged you to sit, not hover him. The soft tune that played in the kitchen reminded you of a scene out of a cheesy porno from your old days, and when he hummed along, you knew he had the same thoughts, too.

“It's our house,” He grinned, “Means our rules.” 

“Uh-huh,” You humoured, amused as you shook your head, but the use of ‘our’ did send butterflies to your stomach, “Mind elaborating, handsome?” 

He explained all-too-happily, “It means y'got every right throw y'guests t’the doghouse if they start yappin’ ‘bout indecency.”

You say that now, but you knew he would shoot one in between their eyes for ogling you clothed, let alone in your glory. He has done it before. 

Countless times.

But you’d kick him to the doghouse if he ever got blood on your floors. And just to piss him off further, you’d allow Dogmeat to sleep on the bed with you. 

“You'd like to do that, wouldn't you?” I snorted.

His eyes lit up, taking your words as a green light, “Y'offerin’?” 

You smacked his chest. “I know your games, cowboy. Room’s not far, y’know?”

“Aww, c'mon,” Calloused fingertips traced up your legs before slipping under the skirt, alternating between kneading and smacking your ass repeatedly to hear your squeaks, “When's the last time y'and I messed ‘round in the livin’ room?” 

“Just last week.” You huffed, partially from the way his hips rolled against yours.

With any lack of action and the undeniably warmer weather throughout the day, you thought it was time to enjoy the night breeze with a slit skirt. The hems were slightly burnt off from past confrontations, involving a near-fatal experience with a Molotov cocktail, but besides that, it was relatively intact. 

And just like you, it was Cooper’s favourite piece, too.

“Mm,” He acknowledged with a grunt, “Far too long t’me.”

He leaned back, arms spread across the backrest while looking at you expectantly

“Y’gon’ take it off f’me or…?” He asked. You rolled your eyes—as if you could ever refuse him. 

But you couldn’t just give it to him, right?

You sat back, poised and coy, toying with him when you gazed up at him through your lashes. In the mood to give him a little show as it seemed like your guests were going to stay out cold for a while.

You were definitely teasing him when you popped the buttons of your shirt, only to let it droop around your elbows, just enough to get a glimpse of your cleavage and pesky black bra. 

Reaching over, you dragged your index finger from his Adam’s apple, down to the collar. His overcoat long gone for your convenience, uncovering his chest without problems.

He was always intrigued, and if he was being honest, in disbelief by your fascination—by your need to have him unclothed in some form of way, despite his condition. The wariness grew over time, and he had not only relished it in but encouraged you for it, too. 

Bunching up and pushing your skirt to the side, his fingers rubbed your pussy through your panties. He sighed, feeling the patch of wetness that soaked through the fabric. He was excited as you were, eager to feel you against him as he shifted under you.

He raised his fingers to his lips, sucking on his middle finger sloppily and groaning at your taste before dipping them under your panties. He straightened, pulling you forward by the back of your head as he prodded a finger into you. The position had you arching, chest to chest as he forced you to moan in his ear. 

At your mewls, he was more than content to give you another, sinking his ring finger in bit by bit to feel you clench desperately. 

He revelled in the warmth, the tightening of your warm walls as if fearing he'd pull out. The more you felt him curl inside you, the more useless it was to muffle your cries. The embarrassing squelch didn’t help either, but how couldn’t you, with that romantic stunt he pulled moments ago?

He tapped on your hips, silently requesting you to hold yourself up for a moment while he shoved his pants down. His cock stood with pride, twitching at the cool air and the anticipation to feel what his digits were feeling.

Pushing your panties to the side, he lined up the head of his cock to your pussy.  He was practically dreaming of feeling you sink onto him at once, already bucking his hips to fill you to the hilt. Instead, you took him in ever so slowly, bit by bit before raising your hips till there was nothing more than the tip of him in you. Taking him in little by little as he teased you with his fingers.

“Y'tryin’ t’kill me?” He gritted out.

“You can handle it.” You cooed back, already losing composure as you felt up his chest.

He groaned, eyeing you dangerously only to shudder when your thighs slammed against his. You felt full, hell, you were full, needing a moment as your fingernails dug into his skin. 

“Fuuuck,” He groaned, tipping his head back though forcing himself not to close his eyes to watch your tits bounce as you moved faster, “Look at y'go. Yeah, ride m’cock, pretty girl. Juuust like that.” 

His praises had you pulsing around him, but so did his desperation. Slowing down once again to feel him buck under you. 

But there was also something else about tonight.

Familiarity was putting his feelings lightly, unable to tear his eyes off as images of the same smile, maybe just a tad more innocent about the world, flashed before his eyes. Remembering his lucky encounters with you when you were both stars. When the two of you had dreams. When your worries at the time were nothing more than bringing joy to the people who watched you perform like you had hung the moon. 

He could never forget admiring you and your artistry, similar to how you marvelled at his productions in awe, even after when they were nothing more than a man on a horseback before it all went to hell. 

And to have him before you once more, albeit a bigger menace than you thought was possible, he was still your Cooper Howard.

Your cheekiness was wiped off when his hand dropped to your ass with a sharp smack, the slap drowning out the radio for a split second.

“‘Y'had your fun.” He growled. His hands held onto you so desperately, similar to the way you grappled onto his shoulders for support.

Your button-up was sticking to your skin just below your breasts, and as much as Cooper loved the little striptease, he wanted more. 

He pulled the article further down by your sleeves, where you shuddered at the feeling of Cooper’s lips latching onto your skin. The sensation rough as he nipped at your rib. He surged forward, salivating as he sucked and tugged on your nipple. He let out a heady groan, tasting a hint of salt while rigorously bouncing you up and down his cock. 

You were what pin-ups couldn’t emulate, what poets or authors couldn’t convey with mere words. 

Anyone, surface dwellers and vaulties alike wished they could have you.

He crept one hand in between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. He didn’t relent when you trembled, when you tightened as you came hard. Not even when you spasm, overstimulated when he continued to thrust in and out of you.

He held you down longer than you would've liked, too obsessed with the way your walls fluttered around him. Begging for some form of friction as you clamped him like a vice. The mewls that followed were music to his ears, frustrated in the cutest way when he did nothing more than flash you an infuriating smile.

A tight one, you noticed. Unable to hide his own need for long as your juices dripped down to his thighs. He was… a little sick in the head—who would’ve thought—abstaining himself from chasing the high for just a moment, just to amp up the pleasure and feel his desperation sated as if he finally deserved the ‘treat’.

“Coop…” You mewled, nearly choking on your spit as his iron-clad grip forced you to feel each and every ridge of him up to the brim, “Coop–! Please! Please move, please—fuck.”

Oh, how cruel of him to deny you. Especially when you sang for him so sweetly.

You raised your head, lips parted as his eyes bored into your teary ones. Even when you became lost in your lustful haze, only able to churn out nothing but his name as hushed moans, he couldn’t miss the small dazed smile flickering across your face. 

He couldn’t resist, reaching up to brush across the pads of your plush lips. And as hooked as you were over the proximity, you placed your hand over his, keeping it on your cheek. 

Your eyes screamed for him to go faster, to put you out of your misery. He pitied you to some degree when he rolled his hips.

“That too much? No, y'can take it. M'pretty girl can take what I give.” 

“Gonna fuckin’ come in’ya, y’hear me?”

“Oh, you’re tearin’ up, feels really good, doesn’t it, baby?”

He slammed you down as soon as he came, thighs sticky and flushed. His grinds slowed down, chest heaving till he had his last spurts of cum in you. He traced his hands along the bruising spots he had left on your hips, then up your sides, tickling you.

The corner of his lips twitched at your tired giggle, catching your breath with your face pressed against his shoulder.

“Y’liked that?” He matched your amusement, reaching over the dry towel conveniently draped on the arm of the couch and wiping off the sweat dripping down your back. 

“Mmm.” You hummed into his skin, already comfortable against him.

“Y’really liked it,” He reiterated, finding your playful eye-roll worth it, casually dragging the cloth under your chin and the area between your breasts before tossing it to the side. He let one arm outstretched on the backrest, “Y’need some water or somethin’?” You thought for a moment; you’d need a sip or two after all that, but you could hold it off for a few minutes. 

“In a bit,” You returned to snuggling in his arms, much to his satisfaction, “Can't you just carry me to bed?” 

“I would, but…” He trailed off. You followed his line of sight when it fell to his lap, not only reminding you of the mess but also if he stood up, well, you might as well fall with him if his pants dropped to his ankles. You knew he could clean you up and buckle his pants before carrying you to your room with no problem, he just didn’t feel like it.

And, well, you understood him.

“Fine,” You sighed, feigning resignation even though a little smile was playing on your lips. You knew each other too well, “But if I hear rushed footsteps or that girl yapping about ‘my eyes’, I blame you.”

“Not the first time you’ve ever blamed me for anythin’—m’poor ol’ heart,” He pretended to weep, placing a hand on his chest, only to catch yours when you tried to smack him for it, “See? Unloved, by m’own girl.”

You shared a laugh, and when he pulled his rest on your waist once more, you knew none of you were going anywhere. 

In minutes, you were finally able to take in your surroundings, recognizing the chorus playing in the background, a classic of Dean Martin’s, one that even Cooper couldn’t help but hum to. It was soft, no more than within your hearing range, even bobbing his head to the beat. You followed, too, and to your surprise, the two of you coincidentally sang a particular line together. 

♫ Your love made it well worth waiting ♫

♫ For someone like you ♫

You turned your head to head to the side before he could look at you after spotting the knowing smile he was sporting. And as the song came to an end, eyes droopy as he instinctively rubbed your back, his hat tipped down. 

You couldn’t help it, craning your neck and planting one final kiss, to which he eagerly returned before your bodies melded into each other once more. Relaxed and protected from the dangers outside your safe haven, even for just a moment. So long as both of you were still breathing, you’d take the bull by its rotting horns in stride.  

♫ Everybody loves somebody sometime ♫

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: fun fact! ignoring the fact that the concept of the game is inspired by the 50s and burlesques would no longer be as famous then, one of the many entertainer options I imagine for the reader (depending on the fic) is burlesque (?) dancer, which very much inspired this piece! not necessarily as her job in the old days but someone who knows a thing or two about it! but again, as the reader, you have the right to imagine whoever you or your mc however you’d like! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[enbesbians]

here’s a little writers update.

though im in the process of writing a fight club abby fic, im also picking up my ‘pomegranate juice’ fic. i left a sneak peak already to show what the overall vibe was.

here it is.

just to let everyone know that this fic is a bit different from the other’s that i have posted— i enjoy morbid love more than i like to admit. the way cannibalism can be used as symbolism for love. ive made numerous entires pertaining to it and never really made much of any of them public.

i thought it would be a good idea to finally go through with that and finalize an abby fic just like that. it’ll be more on the poetic side of things where certain things said will be in feelings, conscious wants rather than actions. it’ll make more sense when it’s uploaded.

extended summary: the rawness of love can take a person by surprise, especially when the person pops into one’s life by accident rather than intentional. abby, she thought she had all the pieces together in her life. she thought she had herself all figured out. whatever she wanted in regards to her desires and ambitions came clear to her and the end goal was just as easy. but when you came along, it seemed like all of that came dwindling downhill. you rotted her— made her learn that love wasn’t just something that can be felt and touched yet hungered and devoured. your being wrapped around her tongue like the most delicate dessert, coddling her mind and her veins like a growing disease that made her believe that all things insane was sane. interest molds into obsession and obsession to greed. your body being a temple she wanted to concur, control and feast. if she could, she’d let love settle on her tongue if it meant that the love you shared was the flavor of your flesh or as sweet as your slick. nothing about you made her feel like anything she had before where you complimented her bones and the way her blood tasted when it spilled from it’s wound— where the psychotic tendencies that festered between the love you shared turned into cannibalistic infatuations. just as much as you wanted to feel her skin, muscle and bones wrap around you like a suit, she wanted to feel the vibration of your heart across her tongue as if she were to finally be able to have a piece of you. so what does that make both of you? crazed lovers? or completely sane admirers?

anyway, just wanted to let people know that this is what’s to come next (as well as meeting your online gamer friend in person (an ellie fic) and fight club abby). i hope to post it earlier than i had with my last fic that took me forever to post.

hope everyone’s day is going well.

[ane-doodles]

Hello! Love your multiple Lambs and your artstyle! You, me, @poppy-purpura, and @agnusloomis are the only ones I know of currently with multiple Lambs. Tell me of your Sorrow and Fondness Lamb, and also the Showman. How did those two come to be? Drink water plenty. May a kind week grace you.

Yayayaya! At first I tried to resist having so many AUs... but in the end it's something that makes me happy, even if I'm not able to write/draw a good story for everyone in the end.

Oh yes rambling time LETS GO!! (notice that a LONG post is coming)

Suemy (Fondness & Sorrows AU) This is born from a kind of "What if" from Chain for a promise, in which instead of Avana being the last lamb, the one who survives is her twin sister Suemy.

If you have had the opportunity to read my little ramblings previously you will have an idea of what this entails, if not I will tell you already: in CFP the tragedy occurs two days before Suemy's wedding, she and her partner being the first to die, followed by the parents of the family and finally Caleb (the older brother) who dies protecting Avana.

However, in F&S the formula changes: Caleb and Suemy's partner are the first to die in order to give the sheeps time to escape, but this does not last more than a couple of days since both are found easily and in an attempt desperate to protect her sister, Avana dies, leaving Suemy alone as the lamb of the prophecy.

Suemy is someone sweet, kind, I originally designed her based on the image of a princess with a heart of gold and a soft and melodious voice. So here she is now, heartbroken, alone, incapable of attachment, completely detached from the cult and fulfilling a mission assigned to her while grief suffocates her. She becomes an untouchable and perfect figure in the eyes of her followers, but inside so small with a wound that she herself refuses to let heal and that bleeds her heart every day.

But, "oh lucky one... A god has set his eyes on her.

In two lives immersed in the sadness of loss and betrayal, both meet to perhaps repair a little of the damage accumulated by the passage of time and repressed feelings.

Narinder was initially hardened by the pain and frustration of his siblings' betrayal, combined with the helplessness of being dependent on someone else to free himself. A whirlwind of strong and changing emotions within him that blind his vision, focusing only on a revenge calculated for more than a thousand years without rest...

But a hardened heart is capable of softening in the face of the purest tears, and with a delicate hand the wounds can be sutured..."

This AU is a kind of Post-Canon bad ending Hurt/Comfort. There is not much plot to tell, it focuses mainly on the thousand and one ways in which Narinder cares for and pampers the lamb in order to make her feel good, while at the same time the desire for revenge (the main reason for being freed) is replaced with the desire to protect such a delicate flower that bleeds in his hands.

.......

Now, about The Showman... Funny story

This lamb was supposed to be my Lambsona, something for personal use to scribble among my class notes... But little by little it evolved.

The Box AU is a sort of "bin of discarded ideas" (it basically has all the ideas, scenes, and dynamics that I decided to leave out or modify from CFP but still enjoy). The Box AU is totally self-indulgent and I'm still amazed today at how far I've come in thinking about this AU (I've even considered twisting it a bit and turning it into an original story).

Anyway, the story in a nutshell: In short the game was broken.

Einar is a black sheep, they was separated from the group due to superstitions, but they never took It the wrong way. They became a kind of traveler/storyteller when they abandoned their flock, thanks to this they was the last lamb to survive.

The lamb is strong... Too strong actually, but they lacks any battle skills which makes them die often (it's based on my save file, because despite playing on easy mode I'm terrible at combat). Frustrated with this, they decides to find another way to complete their mission of freeing The One Who Waits.

By chance, they discovers a book with ancient knowledge of the gods of the ancient faith, where there are multiple rituals forgotten by time. Thanks to this, they learn a way to invoke the god of death and free him from his punishment!! ...But with the price that he is now trapped in a mortal body with his powers reduced and a suppressed rage towards the lamb.

Even so, Einar considers it a victory and offers to help him rebuild, expand and please the cult, so that through devotion his powers return, but of course, the crown is missing.

It turns out that the crown is "stuck" to Einar's head, as they were designated as the perfect vessel, which is why the crown rejects the cat's attempts to retrieve it. On one occasion Narinder reviews the ancient book of the lamb and discovers a possible solution to his problem... A union ritual. Once he and the lamb unite the power of the crown will be divided, then it will be a matter of getting rid of the usurper.

Either way, this won't be so easy. Since in this AU Narinder and the lamb don't really know each other (the ritual happens before confronting Leshy). So there you see Narinder behind the lamb trying to convince him of a marriage while Einar rejects him a thousand and one times without the slightest interest and trying to discover a way to grow the cult.

I love the dynamic between these two in this AU. A combination of comedy, silliness, misunderstandings, adorableness, and a manhwa-style romance (because hey, the marriage of convenience trope has to come from somewhere).

I like to imagine that between Narinder's frustrated attempts to conquer/convince Einar, he gradually develops a special affection for them, while for his part the lamb sees the god as a companion, a friend and someone with whom maybe they wants to identify himself in some way (you know... A black sheep and a black cat)

And well! This is a kind of summary/introduction!!

I'm sorry for making such a LONG text, but I really like thinking about them and the idea of sharing a bit of my brainrot was too tempting to contain...

F&S doesn't have much material currently, but I'm drawing a couple of sketches from time to time (still figuring out how to do Narinder's post-imprisonment design).

On the contrary, Box AU has a considerable amount of material, scenes, ideas, sketches and even its own shitten with a sequel! So if you're interested in that let me know and I'll make a super post dedicated to this AU.

Have a wonderful day!!

[olivermorningstar]

Oliver Hawkins

A young man who has Baba Yaga's Curse. He used to live out in the woods before he was picked up by Jude Jazza. The two of them seem to have a strange history together. He is a huntsman by trade and prefers to keep to himself.

Curse: Baga Yaga's Curse or Crone's Curse

Benefits: Allows for the ability to enter deals with individuals where Oliver is able to grant a single wish. However, these deals are known to backfire and become backhanded. For example, a girl wished to never see her family again. A day later, she lost her vision.

Cons: Oliver requires human flesh to live. Without consuming this, he begins to grow weak and wither away. He is capable of eating meat raw without much consequences, but he is unable to handle a lot of different foods without getting sick as well. Roger has likened his stomach to a dog's with the way it handles food.

Background: Oliver came from a noble family and was their only sickly daughter at the time. They took on an attendant, Aurora ( @loverscreation ), who was able to help Oliver recover well enough to begin looking at his prospects of marriage.

At a ball, he ended up meeting both William, who he was instantly smitten with, and his would-be fiancé, Felix Bauer. Bauer managed to anger Oliver by asking invasive and degrading questions about how he would be as a wife, so in retaliation, he bit his ear off. Afterwards, Oliver was locked away as the Hawkins and the Bauers fell into a strange feud. Oliver, meanwhile, begin to have some revelations about himself and how delicious his little bite was.

Partially to be rid of Oliver and the shame he brought, partially to patch over this fued, Oliver was betrothed to Felix. However, unsatisfied with this arrangement, he ended up meeting a shady man who agreed to help him out if Oliver did a favor for him in return one day. He agreed.

Oliver then lured Felix in, killed him, and ate part of him before he managed to carry out disposing of the body. With Jude's help, he then fled and began to live in the woods.

There he was taken in by a huntsman who began to show him the craft. Once Oliver felt he was confident enough, he helped himself to the huntsman and took over his gear and his home out in the woods. He began to help strangers he would find out there and his reputation grew as a witch of the woods who could do miracles.

Of course, some did work out well, but many more resulted in folks worse off than before. But this didn't bother Oliver any. After all, if they decided to attack, then he was just defending himself.

Of course, after a bit people began to notice folks weren't coming back and Crown caught wind of him. He was brought in as a more extreme curse for Roger to study and he's been working with them since.

--

The cane serves a practical use of helping Oliver around when joint issues flair up. Meals aren't super consistent for him, so sometimes he just has to figure out how to keep working.

There is a deal with a hospital that unclaimed patients go to Oliver. He isn't thrilled by this as some bodies aren't too edible, but hey, better than nothing he supposes.

Rather close to Liam, actually. The two weirdly click in the roleplay he is from. When he isn't arguing with Jude, he rather enjoys working for him.

Embarrassed to high hell about his old crush on William. He did indeed send him a love letter prior to running away. William kept it.

He couldn't tell you when exactly he started to live more as a man. He doesn't fully consider himself one, but he prefers it vastly to living as a woman. Oliver was the name he gave Jude when they started working together. It stuck.

He thinks Roger is very handsome, but has bad experiences with doctors, so he's also... pretty scary to Ollie.

Enjoys cute things. Has a few stuffed animals on his bed and likes to make them. He also crochets as a hobby as it helps pass the time. So far he's made a blanket for Jude and he's working on something for Liam next.

Flower guy, loves to see them, loves to grow them.

Decent chef! Likes cooking for others.

[calicoheartz]

Oh oh anddd...

Cait x wbbp!reader. Caitlin confesses to reader after their homecoming game because Caitlin realized that she doesn't want to hide her feelings anymore and possibly lose the love of her life.👀

-🦢

Hoco Hearts ; Caitlin Clark

꣑୧ — summary | you and caitlin had been best friends since middle school , what happens when she decides to make you hers on the eve of your homecoming game? 💌

wc ; 805

— warnings | lots of romantic / sexual tension , a bit suggestive , mainly fluff (high- school au)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : ugh ily anon. YOUVE BEEN KEEPING ME FEDDD W UR REQS! also sorryyyy its low-key kind of short :( Enjoy besties ◡̈

Caitlin stood beneath the glowing lights of the basketball court, the scent of popcorn and excitement lingering in the air, as the sound of excited highschoolers filled her ears. It was homecoming night, a night pulsating with anticipation and celebration, as everyone gathered to experience the last basketball game of their senior year. But amidst the anticipation and excitement radiating both on and off the court, Cait’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions.

Her eyes glanced across the eyes before locking them onto a familiar and distinctive figure. You were a dedicated member of the girls basketball team at Dowling Catholic highschool, and had been playing varsity since your freshman year. 

You were always there, capturing every moment of the games with unwavering passion, and Caitlin couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves in her stomach everytime their eyes met.

Your history with Caitlin goes all the way back to middle school, with you two quickly developing and forming a strong bond, especially with your common interests such as basketball among other things. It was undeniable that you two had underlying romantic feelings for eachother, but the two of you never knew when the right moment was to bring these newfound feelings to light. 

There had been a number of situations where you two had almost shared a kiss, whether it was behind the bleachers after an intensive game,  or possibly alone in the bathroom at a halloween party; regardless, it was very obvious that the two of you were just more than friends.

But Cait was your best friend, she had been there for you when you got your first boyfriend, received your first heartbreak, and all the hallway crushes you had acquired over the years. And it pained her that you weren’t getting the hints she was giving you, the way she glanced at your lips constantly, or occasionally rubbing the inside of your thigh when around your friends, it was torture. 

You knew Caitlin liked girls, she knew that you liked girls, so why weren't the puzzle pieces naturally falling into place? 

That's why when their last homecoming game approached, Caitlin knew that this would be her last chance to confess her feelings before it was too late.

The game was intense, with both teams giving it their all. Caitlin played her heart out, her mind consumed with thoughts of you. Every time she made a play, she hoped you were watching, hoped you could see how much she cared, not just about basketball, but about you.

As the final buzzer sounded and the crowd erupted in cheers, Caitlin felt a mix of emotions. On one hand, she was thrilled that they had won, but on the other, she knew that the moment of truth was fast approaching. She had to tell you how she felt.

After the game, as the team celebrated their victory, Caitlin pulled you aside, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage, and looked into your eyes.

"Hey, can we talk?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, concern etched on your face. Caitlin led you to a quiet corner of the gym, away from the jubilant crowd.

"I... I have something I need to tell you," Caitlin began, her voice trembling slightly. "I've been keeping this to myself for so long, but I can't hide it anymore. I... I love you, Y/N. More than anything."

You stared at Caitlin, stunned into silence. You had never expected this confession, never even considered that Caitlin might feel the same way you did. Your heart soared with hope, but you needed to be sure.

"Do you mean that, Caitlin?" you asked, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt.

Caitlin took your hands in hers, her gaze unwavering. "I do. I love you, Y/N, and I don't want to hide it anymore. I want to be with you, if you'll have me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized that your feelings were reciprocated, that the person you loved felt the same way. Without hesitation, you threw your arms around Caitlin, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"I love you too, Caitlin," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. "I've loved you for so long, I just never thought you could feel the same way."

"I've loved you since I was 14.." the brunette whispered back.

Caitlin held you close, her heart overflowing with happiness. She had taken a chance, laid her heart on the line, and it had paid off in the best possible way. She was with the person she loved, and nothing else mattered.

As you both stood there, lost in each other's arms, surrounded by the sounds of celebration, Caitlin knew that this was just the beginning of your love story. And she couldn't wait to see where it would take you.

ahhhhhhh omg wait I rlly wanna write more cc/pb high school au fics !!!! as always, thank you guys so much for reading <3

[sunflowersandsapphires]

If the Sun Starts Setting

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 7

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: Swearing, family drama, characters celebrating Christmas, mom with terminal illness, crying mentions

a/n: Sorry to post this so late everyone! I have had the WORST brain fog today. I hope you enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs fuel me!

After just one semester of law school, the drive between suburban Connecticut and the Columbia campus was one you were becoming well-acquainted with. It wasn’t unbearably long, nor flooded with traffic on a dark Sunday evening. Headlights of oncoming vehicles painted swatches of light against the navy sky, a semi-urban work of art unlike anything you’d enjoyed before. Usually, it was a sight you took the time to admire. However, this particular evening you were unable to focus on anything but the tinny voice bubbling out of your phone’s speaker. 

Gritting your teeth and rolling your eyes to the heavens, you cursed the universe for a moment, tuning out the man on the other end of the line while you did so.

The sharp call of your name across the speakers regained your attention. ”Are you listening to me?“

Your father's inflection was grating on the best days. After three weeks spent waiting on him and your two ungrateful siblings while they preached about the importance of family during the holidays, you were ready to scream with every word he spat at you. The two hour drive back to campus was supposed to be the growing light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, you'd spent the last third of it arguing with your father about healthcare charges.

”Yes, I'm listening.“ ‘Unlike some of us’, you thought to yourself. ”As I said, that charge was for her brief hospital stay over Thanksgiving. I've already paid it and it might take a week or two to reflect—“

”This is a debt collection notice, hun. That means they didn't receive the payment yet. Which means they'll be coming after me when your mom inevitably cannot pay.“

Contemplating banging your head against your steering wheel just to remove the memory of this conversation, a flash of movement across the parking lot caught your eye. Expression softening, you almost sobbed in relief when you caught the two beaming expressions of your friends waving from the exterior door. Unfortunately, your father wasn't quite done arguing with you.

”Dad, I understand you don't want to be on the hook for this—“ ‘Not like you would be anyway.’

”I most certainly do not.“ He interrupted. Once again ignoring his rambling, you snatched your backpack and exited your car, slamming the door with a bit more force than usual.

”Dad, just forget about it, ok? I'll deal with it, just—“

”Well, clearly you won't deal with it in a timely fashion, which is why I'm calling...“ ‘Was he trying to kill you? It sure felt like it.’

”Ok, well I just got back to school so I need to go now.“ You tried to nudge him into polite farewells as you practically sprinted across the pavement towards your friends. As expected, he didn't take kindly to being rushed off the phone.

”Of course you do,“ He laughed incredulously. ”You know, this is your mother's livelihood we are discussing. It wouldn't kill you to be a bit more compassionate.“ ‘You're one to talk asshole.’

”You're right. I'll try to work on that this semester,“ You remarked drily. ”Gonna go inside now. Bye.“

Not bothering to listen to the screaming that answered your callous goodbye, you hung up, breaking into a strained smile as you greeted your boys. ”Why hello there, strangers.“

As if he didn't just witness you walk literally and figuratively closer to a breakdown, Foggy squealed, nearly taking you to the pavement in a tackling hug. “Welcome back, bug!”

“Christ, Fog, you're gonna crush her.” Matt laughed, hearing you grunt as you fumbled to stay upright with Foggy coiled around you like a boa constrictor.

“I missed you too, Fog.” You murmured, tears welling in your eyes at the sensation of being embraced.

You had missed them. Deeply and almost pathetically. After an entire semester at each other's sides, the few weeks in your hometown for Christmas had felt like an eternity.

After Matt and Foggy had been struck with the campus flu, the rest of the semester passed in a whirlwind. The two clingy boys had unsurprisingly infected you, meaning you were unfortunately sick for Thanksgiving and had to remain on campus to avoid passing the virus on to your immunosuppressed mother. Matt had been incredibly apologetic, and plagued with his typical Catholic guilt, so he'd stayed with you while Foggy returned to Hell's Kitchen for Turkey Day.

The next few weeks were spent cramming for finals and, eventually, celebrating the end of your first semester at Columbia—which you had all, amazingly, passed. Leaving for the lengthier winter break had been an abrupt end to the joy you felt over your grades, however.

You returned to New Haven a day earlier than expected to sit in the local hospital's oncology ward with your mother. While you were ill over Thanksgiving, she'd had a recurrence of stage 3 pancreatic cancer, which meant more frequent trips to see her doctor as well as numerous bills that neither of you could afford. Because of her declining health, your father and siblings had come to Connecticut for Christmas. The extra company meant that your holidays–which were meant to be a time for recuperation following a strenuous first semester–had been frustrating to the point of tears. Which, embarrassingly enough, Matt had been burdened with when you called him to complain.

The two of you called multiple times a week, exchanging stories and annoyances just like you did when you were living within a few blocks from each other. But it didn't stop you from missing him and Foggy fiercely for 24 excruciating days.

Swallowing a lump of pent up emotion, you huffed out a shaky exhale, your breath clouding in the frigid winter air. “Ok, Fog. You know I love you, but it's cold as fuck out here.”

“Right! Sorry.” Foggy withdrew from the embrace, blushing furiously as he scratched at the back of his neck.

Immediately replacing Foggy in front of you, Matt took a chance to hug you quickly before pulling you inside. “Glad you're finally here, I thought Nelson here was going to combust.”

Letting Matt usher you inside, you heard Foggy's baffled scoff. “Do I look like a patient man to you, Murdock?”

Matt smirked, “How would I know?”

You and Foggy both groaned loudly, looking to each other for support as Matt cackled. “C'mon, you set that one up perfectly. What's a guy to do?”

“You should've heard him over break, bug. He was driving my poor mother towards a stroke, I swear.” Foggy shook his head in feigned irritation.

“Oh please, she loved me.” Matt shoved his roommate, nearly bowling the three of you down the staircase as you trudged toward their room.

“I bet she did.” You snorted, “You probably dialed the charm up to 11.”

“Try 15.” Foggy remarked, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

Ignoring the jab, Matt held out a hand for your bag, allowing you to slip out of your coat and shoes.

“Who were you on the phone with?” His question was meant to open the can of worms in a structured way, rather than answer his own burning question. He’d bet dollars to donuts that it was–

“My father.” Came your fatigued response, confirming his suspicions. Your words were tinged with a bitterness that he’d expected, but they held a deeper upset thinly veiled by your exhaustion.  

“Is everything ok?” Foggy asked quietly, his brow pinching with worry as he studied the bags under your eyes. The blond was less informed on the hell you’d been put through over the last month or so, only picking up bits and pieces if Matt relayed them.

With a groan, you collapsed unceremoniously onto Matt’s bed beside him, leaning heavily into him as one of his arms fell across your shoulders. “Of course, it’s just…it wasn’t the pleasant send off I was hoping for.”

Your pulse jumped when you spoke, steadying out as you reached the end of your sentence. Matt already knew that things weren’t “ok” with your mom or your home life in general, but he blinked in surprise to hear the disappointment that coated your words as you referenced your father’s curt goodbye. Making a note to bring that up when you seemed more inclined to be vulnerable, he rubbed a palm over your arm in a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish it had been better.”

Huffing a tiny laugh, you let your head fall against his shoulder. “Me too. How were your holidays?”

“Pleasant.” Matt murmured at the same time Foggy clapped his hands together.

“Fantastic! I forced Matt to watch all of the Star Wars movies with me and we ate our weight in cookies.” The long-haired boy explained with genuine enthusiasm. As he began to recount the escapades from the annual Nelson holiday party, your eyes flicked upwards to look at Matt, whose arm was still moving slowly across your shoulder and back as he caressed your sleeve. His eyes were trained forward, but a muscle in his jaw twitched as you focused on him, so you had a sneaking suspicion that neither of you were listening to Foggy’s story. You’d forgotten how well he could read you, until he gave you the option to pretend everything was fine with your dad.

He knew it wasn’t, and you did too. And maybe shoving that shit deep down and pretending it didn’t exist wasn’t a healthy way of handling it, but if you met Foggy’s worried gaze right now it would make you cry, which you were not prepared for. So, whether it was a wonderful coincidence or Matt could truly read you like a picture book, you were thankful for his deflection.

Smiling softly, you looked back to Foggy, listening to him talk about his drunk aunts fawning over Matt and feeling the thick tension bleed out of your shoulders.

Eventually, Foggy took a deep breath, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Woah, head rush!”

Matt chuckled, “You didn’t even stand up, buddy. You ok over there?”

“Yah, I’m fine! Just excited!” Foggy waved a hand, unfazed.

“And I can’t wait to hear about everything, Fog. But maybe we should take a break for presents?”

“Presents?” Foggy’s eyes widened along with his grin, his behavior as animated as a child’s at the mention of gifts. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

You laughed, prying yourself out of Matt’s secure grip and opening your bag. Tossing two wrapped bundles across the room and onto Foggy’s bed, you set the other two in Matt’s lap.

“Merry Christmas, my lovely Musketeers!” You giggled as Foggy mime-fenced toward you. As soon as the blond was finished beating you in the imaginary sword fight, he eagerly tore into the glittery wrapping paper. Next to you, Matt looked much more apprehensive about the packages in his lap.

“Go on, Matty. Open them!” You encouraged, bumping his shoulder with your own.

“But we don’t have anything for you,” Matt’s lips curled into a pout, looking like a sulking kitten as he trailed a single finger along the crisp edge of the parcel nearest to his hand.

You rolled your eyes fondly. The poor kid had a strong enough sense of justice for the whole campus. ”Matty, we're in college. And I'm the only one with a job. I didn't expect you to get me anything.“

”But—“ Matt argued, but you cut him off with a laugh.

”No more buts! I got these presents for you because I wanted to, not because I thought I’d receive something in return. Please open them?“ Though he couldn't see your face, you batted your lashes and widened your eyes, hoping he could sense the pleading expression.

With a frown, he nodded once, carefully peeling the tape from the paper as if the task required surgical precision. Grinding his teeth as the paper crinkled raucously, he slid the first gift out of its casing carefully, as if he was expecting it to shock him if he moved too quickly. Withdrawing a lump of the softest material he'd ever felt, he ran a thumb over it, trying to decipher what it was. The strip of wool was composed of thick braided stitches, promising to retain warmth in even the most bitter winter weather.

”A scarf?“ He asked, his lips pursed into a small, surprised oval. A rosy blush dusted the tops of his cheeks.

”Yes! I made one for you and one for Foggy. Except yours is a deep red and his is orange.” You spoke softly, smiling over to where the longer-haired boy was wrapping the length of yarn around his neck triumphantly.

“Our favorite colors.” Matt murmured, his fingers still tracing the fuzzy stitching. “You remembered?“

”Of course I did, trouble. That's important information. I'd be a fool to let it slip through the cracks.“ You hoped the joke would make him laugh, but he continued to stare blankly at the scarf as if it was an animal that had just died in his arms. ”If you don't like it, I can take it back, and donate it or something–“

”No!“ Matt looked up, horrified, clutching the scarf to his chest. ”No, I love it. I just...“

Turning his face back to his lap, he licked his lips before continuing. ”I've never gotten something like this before. I don't know what to say, is all.“

”No need to say anything, bub. I'm glad you like it.“ You rubbed your palm over his arm, mirroring his actions from just a moment ago.

Still focused on his own gifts, Foggy's excited screech startled both you and Matt. ”NO WAY!“

Turning to you with a dropped jaw, Foggy shook his head. ”There is no way you got this.“

”What is it, buddy?“ Matt asked, his lips curled into a soft smile as he heard Foggy open a hardcover book eagerly.

”A first edition of The Fellowship of the Ring!“ Foggy was practically giddy, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he rifled through the pages. ”How did you even get this?“

Grinning at him, you giggled. ”My mom has a friend with an extensive book collection and asked where we could find one. Turns out, the friend had one of her own and was willing to part with it for next to nothing. Guess she owed my mom a favor.”

Diving across the room to crush you in another hug, Foggy kissed the top of your head. “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!”

Laughing brightly, you struggled to shove your friend off of you. When he was this worked up, Foggy had the tenacity of an overexcited golden retriever. As usual, Matt helped release you from his clutches. ”You're welcome, Fog. I wanted to get you a nice copy since you lost the one you brought to school.”

“I'd say you accomplished that, my lovely jitterbug.” Foggy ruffled your hair, retreating to his bed and launching himself onto the mattress–the rusted springs creaking in protest.

Giggling at him, you turned back to Matt. “Alright, Murdock. Your turn, again. After this, I promise never to put you through this torture again. Until next year.”

Matt groaned in response, snatching the second gift with more vigor. “Let's get this over with.”

Approaching the gift with the same systematic tactic as the first, he slid the paper off of the box without a single tear. Setting the wrapping aside, he opened the cardboard package and pulled out his real gift.

“Ok so, I'm not sure how helpful these will be,” You warned, fidgeting with your hands as he ran his fingers along the band connecting the ear pieces. “But, they're, um, noise-canceling headphones?”

Matt's breath caught in his throat. He was overwhelmed with guilt and affection and surprise at the present, all words of gratitude pulled back down to his vocal chords as he focused solely on not bursting into tears.

Over the past few weeks, the Nelsons had been kind enough to invite him to stay and celebrate with them. He was flattered, and so thankful, but he wasn't used to so many...people. During a few of your phone calls over the break, he'd mentioned that the excessive stimuli, mainly noise, had been getting to him and giving him headaches. And rather than chastising him for being ungrateful, you'd listened and sympathized with him over the phone, ultimately buying him a solution to the issue with your own money.

Sure, there was no guarantee that these would work for his heightened senses, but you didn't know that. And the idea that you were willing to go to such immense lengths to ensure his comfort...it was evidence of a love he hadn't experienced in a decade.

“Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?” Your worried murmur broke his train of thought.

“No,” He choked out. ”No, they're perfect. So is the scarf. Thank you, bug.“

”Of course. Merry Christmas, Matt.“ You kissed his cheek gently and he felt a flush crawling up his neck. Wrapping an arm around you, he tucked you close to his chest, hand cradling the back of your neck.

”Merry Christmas, sweetheart.“

The two of you sat there in silence, holding each other close for a minute before your phone rang. Sighing deeply, you rested your head against Matt's shoulder as you fumbled for your phone. Thankfully, the screen displayed your mom's contact information, not your father.

“Sorry, trouble. I have to take this.“ You squeezed his arm, pulling out of his embrace and stretching as you stood. ”I'll be right back. Hopefully.“

Smiling at your near-groan, Matt jerked his chin towards the door. ”We'll be here.“

Slipping into the hallway, you lowered your voice. ”Hey mama, everything ok?“

”Hey baby, everything's fine, just had a couple questions for you about bills.“ Her sweet voice was strained and you could practically see her flicking her gaze to meet your father's, his metaphorical gun to her head as she made the call.

”Ok,“ You ground out, trying not to snap at her when she wasn't the reason you were frustrated. ”Um, what questions did you have?”

“You did pay the one from November?” She asked, predictably.

“I did. It'll reflect soon and Dad has nothing to worry about. The bill is attached to our names, not his. That's why Collections isn't writing to him.“ You explained as calmly as you could, knowing that she was aware of this already, but probably had you on speakerphone. ”Was that all?“

”Not exactly.“ Her tone shifted, pitching lower and sounding almost embarrassed. A crackle rippled over the line and suddenly your father's gruff voice replaced the one you adored.

“You need to come home next weekend to help your mom with the next round of billing. I've run out of time off and can no longer assist.” He commanded, the ‘compassion’ he held for her livelihood nowhere to be found.

‘Oh because you were so helpful this month when you were ordering us around.’  You griped internally. “What round of billing? The one from Thanksgiving–”

“Was four appointments ago. These things aren't free, you know. They’re wanting us to pay for them.”

Both you and your bank account were intimately familiar with the steep cost of her treatment. Inhaling deeply, you paced a few steps from Matt and Foggy's room. “I know they aren't free. We signed her up for a payment plan two weeks ago that offers a deferral–”

“She was denied.” His laconic answer made your spirits plummet as time came to a halt. Your pounding heart froze in place, dread creeping up your spine. 

“What?” On the off chance that he was being unintentionally misleading, you needed to clarify.

Your mother's apologetic voice came over the line once again. ”I wasn't accepted into the financial assistance program, baby. But, it's ok! I can pick up more shifts–“

”No!” You exclaimed, the shrill edge of your cry echoing down the hallway. You tried again, digging your nails into the flesh of your palm as you fought to keep your voice steady.

“Don't...you don't need to do that mama. I don't want you to overwork yourself. I'll come home on Friday and we can talk about options, ok?“ You bargained, running through your work schedule in your head to create a plan.

”Are you sure, honey? Won't you be busy getting a head start on the semester?“ 

Blinking back tears at her obvious care for you, you cleared your throat before answering. “It’s alright, mama. It’s just syllabus week, I’m sure I’ll have time to come home and sort things out.”

“She’ll make time.” Your father’s promise was more for your mom than you, but it felt like a swift kick to the gut all the same. 

Because you would make time. You had to. No one else would. You were your mom’s last line of defense. Prioritizing yourself and failing to be there for her wasn’t an option you had. The emotional burden you were carrying felt impossibly heavy, as if there was a line of anvils across your shoulders and chest, slowly forcing the oxygen out of your lungs until you perished. 

“Of course I will. I’ll see you this weekend, mama. Love you.” You choked out, slapping a palm over your mouth before you broke. 

“I love you too, baby. Have a good week at school!” You could picture her tired smile as she wished you a proper goodbye, the image cracking your composure. 

You hung up before the first tear rolled down your cheek. Dropping your face into your hands, you bit your lip to stifle a sob, letting the tears flow silently instead. Falling back against the wall behind you, you let your legs give out as you collapsed to the disgusting dorm hallway carpet. 

The blood rushing in your ears drowned out the noises drifting through the thin walls, an urge to scream churned in your chest. Ugly, rage filled sobs were barreling up your throat, desperately trying to claw their way out, to make your pain known. Hunching over your knees in a pitiful crouch, you shielded your face with your arms, preventing any passersby from seeing your much-needed meltdown. 

Choking out a breath around another half-smothered sob, you nearly screamed when a warm hand landed on your shoulder. Looking up frantically, the outburst downgraded to a strangled whine when you saw Matt’s furrowed brow directed at you. 

Wordlessly, he sank down beside you, opening his arms with a frown. Throwing yourself into his embrace, you couldn’t help the hideous sounds that escaped you as he enveloped you in his muscular arms with ease. Tucking your head under his chin, you shook violently against his chest as you bawled. 

“I can’t do this, Matt. I can’t–” You gasped out, your breath stuttering as you wept forcefully into his shoulder. 

Shushing you gently, he rubbed circles into your back with his large hand.

Whimpering at the touch, you wiped at your tear-streaked face furiously. “”I’m barely an adult. How am I supposed to do this?” Your voice shattered around the words, throat constricting with anguish.

“I don’t know,” Matt cooed, stroking a fresh pair of tears away from your skin with his thumbs. “But I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’ll get through it together.” 

Burying your face into his neck miserably, you shuddered with distaste. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to ask.” He whispered gravely, pressing a kiss to your crown. 

With that promise, your brain seemed to shut off. Your tears gradually slowed to a halt, leaving you dazed and exhausted in Matt’s lap. Heaving out a shaky exhale, you closed your eyes, letting his soft touches wash over you like the tides. Kissing your forehead tenderly, Matt cupped your cheek. 

“Why don’t we go sit somewhere softer than this shitty floor, hmm?” His small question was meant to make you laugh, but your fatigue had chased away every other emotion. 

Nodding softly, you let Matt pull you from the ground and back into his room, welcoming the darkness after the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hallway. Sliding off his glasses and placing them on his nightstand, he guided you to Foggy’s bed. The blond frowned at you, setting his book aside. 

“You ok, bug?” He asked, sitting up to inspect your puffy eyes.

Shaking your head tiredly, you crawled onto his mattress and let him wrap you in a hug. Matt, with an impressive amount of agility, somehow leapt onto the bed behind you, snaking his arms around your middle so that you were sandwiched between him and his roommate. You listened to their steady breathing, letting the sound lull you into a more peaceful state of mind. 

Tangling his fingers with yours, Matt’s lips scratched over the back of your head. “Fog, think you could read some of your book for us?”

“Uh, yah totally.” Foggy pouted, gaze still lingering on your drained face. “Let me just find my page.”

The combination of your worn-out consciousness and the comforting presence of your two best friends was dangerous. Your eyes fluttered shut and you could feel yourself drifting off. 

As if reading your thoughts, Matt kissed your hair. “Go on, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

Squeezing his fingers, you stopped fighting the darkness pulling at the edges of your vision, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe@abbyhaslongshorts @mrs-bellingham @abucketofweird @yeonalie @jadeunstablexx @spider-murdock @0ctober-writes @danzer8705 @mattmurdockstateofmind

Please tell me if these tags aren't working for you all because Tumblr has been acting up :/

[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 3

Chris was on cloud nine after the date with Louise. He had struggled a little being so close to her scent, he wanted nothing more than to touch her. Though he knew he had to take it slowly, to keep himself in check.

He desperately needed a release now, however. So, he made his way further into the outskirts of the city, near where the seedier sort of pubs could be found. He came across a young man on his own, stumbling home.

It would be so easy to just drag him into the small wooded area off to the side… Though Chris felt a little pang of guilt hit him, something he’d not felt before. He found himself wondering what Louise would think of him if she found out he’d gone and dragged an innocent man into the woods to feed from.

He had paused too long, the man got too far ahead of him and seemed to have caught up with a few of his friends. Chris hissed in slight annoyance, and turned back towards the pub, though he stopped as a cloaked figure was stood in his way.

‘It’s been a while since you’ve come to bother me.’ Chris said, amused.

Toshi flipped her hood down and smirked. ‘Did you miss me, hound dog?’

Chris raised his eyebrow at her and chuckled a little. ‘That’s a bit of a stretch.’

‘You don’t seem on your game tonight, letting an innocent get away from you so easy. Are you feeling alright?’ Toshi asked as she walked up to him and circled him once.

‘I am just dandy, thanks.’

‘You seem in a good mood, compared to normal. You’re rather dressed up, too… On a date with your soulmate, hm?’ Toshi folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head slightly while she waited for a response.

Chris rolled his eyes. ‘Nothing gets past you, huh?’

‘Is this human turning you soft?’ Toshi grinned.

‘Don’t push it.’ Chris growled at her.

‘If you’re interested, I know where there’s a not so innocent human you could feast on. I just caught the guy trying to rape a young woman, he ran off while I was helping her out. I’m sure you could sniff him out, if you’re hungry?’ Toshi held out a jacket towards him.

Chris raised an eyebrow at her and glanced at the jacket. He did need a feed, so figured why not. He took the jacket from her and sniffed at it. ‘Where did you last see him?’

‘Not too far from the sushi restaurant down broad street.’ Toshi responded.

Chris tossed the jacket down to the side now he had his scent. He nodded at Toshi, then turned into a bat and disappeared into the darkness.

‘You’re welcome!’ Toshi shouted after him.

-

The following morning, Loki and Claire were snuggling in bed, enjoying a longer lie after the late night. They were heavy petting and kissing softly, when the doorbell rang.

Loki growled in annoyance. He glanced at the clock and huffed. ‘I bet that’s Chris already.’

‘Aww, he will be excited to see Louise again.’ Claire said as she rolled onto her back.

Loki sighed, then looked to the bottom of the bed where Bat was lying. ‘Bat, can you go see if Louise is up. If so, she will open the door and you can give Chris permission to come in?’

Bat opened one eye to look at Loki. She slowly got up and stretched with a yawn, she let out a small grunt and hopped off the bed.

‘Thanks, Bat!’ Loki called after her with a chuckle.

‘That’s mean. Making Bat do your dirty work.’ Claire teased.

‘Mmm, but means I can spend longer in bed with you.’ Loki growled and grabbed Claire, pulling her flush against him as he reached down to squeeze her ass.

Since learning about Bat being a vampire cat, he found he conversed with her as if she was human, knowing that she did indeed understand what people said. It certainly became rather handy in situations like this.

‘You just want my body.’ Claire said as she squirmed in his grasp.

‘I do… Problem with that?’ Loki smirked at her and dipped his head to nibble on her earlobe.

‘Mmm… I guess not.’ Claire giggled.

-

Louise was downstairs, she had been dressed for a little while and when she heard the doorbell, she knew it would be Chris. She had gone through to answer the door, but knew he couldn’t step over the threshold without permission from someone who lived there.

‘They’re still in bed.’ Louise said sheepishly when she opened the door to reveal it was indeed Chris.

‘Lazy buggers.’ Chris scoffed and leaned against the doorway as he folded his arms over his chest.

Louise wondered how Chris managed to still look just as hot even when wearing more casual clothes. He was wearing ripped jeans with a black band t shirt underneath a leather jacket, yet still looked amazing.

‘Did you sleep well?’ Chris asked softly.

‘Uh, yeah… The usual, really.’ Louise smiled at him. ‘Though they have a super comfortable bed in their spare room, it’s like a marshmallow.’

‘Loki is rather good with getting the best of the best furnishings.’ Chris chuckled.

Bat came wandering down the stairs with a little purr. She strolled up to Chris and meowed at him.

‘Are you giving me permission to enter? Did my lazy brother send you?’ He asked her.

She meowed again in a high tone which they had come to learn meant yes. She also flicked her head upwards once.

Chris stepped across the threshold and slipped off his jacket. He crouched down to scratch Bat under her chin. ‘Thank you, Bat. Sorry my brother was too lazy to get up himself and disturbed your beauty sleep.’

Louise’s heart exploded seeing the way he interacted with Bat.

Bat meowed happily and strutted off through to the living room. Chris stood up and ran a hand through his hair as he looked at Louise. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek, making her blush. Though she did the same quickly to him before he stood up straight again.

‘Sorry, where are my manners. I should really have greeted you properly first before Bat.’ He said sheepishly.

‘Not at all. Bat is the Queen after all, she needs to be greeted first. Especially since she let you come in.’ Louise giggled.

They wandered through to the living room. ‘What would happen if you entered someone’s home without permission?’ Louise asked Chris as they sat down on the sofa, Louise was secretly pleased he chose to sit right next to her.

‘We physically can’t. It’s as if there’s an invisible wall blocking us from entering. If there’s something on like a party, like Loki’s birthday for example, I already had a pre-existing invitation for that specific day and time. So they knew I’d be coming along, so I can enter then without express permission.’

‘Oh, that makes sense. Though public places are fair game?’

‘They are. Unless we’ve been banned from somewhere, such as a bar or club. If the owner tells us we are banned, then we can’t enter again unless they say otherwise.’ Chris explained.

‘Sounds like there’s quite a lot to being a vampire.’

‘I guess there is.’ Chris nodded. ‘Thankfully it’s mostly fun.’

‘What’s mostly fun?’ Claire asked as she walked into the room.

‘Being a vampire.’ Chris replied.

‘Hmm, I dunno. Being a vampire’s personal blood bank is much more fun.’ Claire said when Loki walked in behind her and slid his arm around her, growling into her neck when he heard what she said.

‘Keep it for the bedroom you two.’ Lousie teased.

‘Are you going to cook us breakfast then or do I have to do it myself?’ Chris asked as he raised an eyebrow at his brother.

‘Fine, fine. I get the hint.’ Loki sighed and stalked off to the kitchen.

‘I better make sure he doesn’t cremate the bacon.’ Claire said as she turned to follow.

‘Oh, you know I love cremated bacon though!’ Louise shouted after Claire.

‘No, really?’ Chris gasped dramatically.

‘Of course. Crispy bacon is the best.’

‘Crispy, yes. Not cremated though.’ Chris said as he pulled a face.

When they eventually went through to join Loki and Claire, Loki was putting some bacon to the side.

‘Now that’s perfect bacon.’ Chris said as he grabbed a bun to butter.

‘No way, that’s still oinking.’ Louise said after looking at it, making them laugh. She then looked in the pan and saw that Claire had told Loki to keep cooking some slices for Louise.

‘That’s more like it.’ Louise said as she motioned to the pan.

‘That’s come from the depths of hell that has.’ Chris chuckled.

‘Remind me to never cook breakfast for these two again.’ Loki grumbled to Claire, who just laughed in response.

[mayhem-neverending]

The Big Bad Wolf

Part XX

Word count: 1,293

Warnings: none

Notes: This is a short little bit I just wrote while the class is watching a movie. Unedited. Enjoy :)

You were in heaven for the next 15 minutes. Obito's warmth and rich musk enveloped you like a weighted blanket, pulling you deeper and deeper into divine comfort as your breathing slowed and matched each other's. That was, until a burning smell wafted to your nose. 

Your brows crinkled, then you realized, “Oh shit, the eggs!”

You stumbled out of his arms and ran into the kitchen, yanking the pan off the gas burner and turning it off. The blackened eggs smoked and the smell assaulted your nose. You took the pan out the back door and dumped it in the snow. 

Obito opened the kitchen window as you were walking back in. An amused smile played on his lips when you made eye contact with him before he walked across his cottage to open the front window as well.

You shared that smile and said, “Whoops,” with a shrug. 

He playfully rolled his eyes. You shook your head at yourself while turning on the tap to wash off the pan. You scrubbed the charred bits of egg off and looked up at Obito who came to stand in his usual spot against the counter. 

“Something about smelling burnt egg has really done wonders for my appetite,” he drawled, a teasing look pointed at you. 

You gave his side a light shove and he chuckled at you, not having budged an inch. “You're awful,”

“Not as awful as the breakfast you were trying to serve me,” 

“Oh shut it,” You grinned, putting the now clean pan on the drying rack. 

“I suppose I should actually make you something now. Maybe we should stick with toast, though,” 

“Hmm, that may be for the best,” 

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled the new loaf of bread from the cabinet. He watched with his arms across his chest, leaning lazily against the counter. The way his shirt pulled against his biceps caught your eye, and you had to force yourself to look away. 

“Are you up to train today?” He asked out of the blue. 

You looked down at your sweater and jeans and back at him. “Don't think I'm appropriately dressed for that,” 

He hummed. You continued, “Besides, I have laundry, cooking, sweeping, and all that to do today. I have to catch up from our mission,” 

He looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. “Fine. How's Hikaru?”

You smiled and took a sip out of the coffee He had given you earlier. “He's good. He was so excited to see me,” 

You huffed a laugh. “Kakashi got him a matching Hokage robe. He wore it around the house all day when we were home together,”

He quirked a brow but quickly lowered it. “I'm glad he's doing well. It must have been hard for him to be without you,”

You nodded. “All’s well now. Hopefully there won't be any more big adventures for me for a long while,”

“I think I can agree with that,” 

The toast popped up and you quickly spread butter and jam over them. You handed them over to Obito on a plate and grabbed a broom. He sat down at the table while you got to work. 

The entire time Obito wasn't too far. He seemed to find himself near the same places you were working in throughout the day. You couldn't help but notice it, and while you worked quietly, you thought about how lovely it was to be held by him. His proximity didn't help, and you could feel your body, your energy, being tugged towards him wherever you were. You wondered if he felt the same. 

It had been some time since you were held by a man. More time since you were help by a man that you wanted to be around, so you figured the pull must be because of that. A need needed to be filled, and he was an attractive man, whom you enjoyed spending time with, that was happy to do it. You definitely didn't like him more than you were supposed to. 

The line between caretaker and friend had already been crossed. You could reel yourself in before it went further than friendship. Self restraint was one of your stronger qualities. No matter how much your heart fluttered, or how strong your desire to climb onto his lap became, you could handle yourself. 

The day was coming to an end and you were dusting around the fireplace - the warmth of the blaze sinking into your skin in the most welcoming way. Behind you Obito was lounging on the couch, his legs spread and a book that he was reading in between glances at you in his hand. 

You could feel his hot gaze on you like electricity; jolting you wherever it landed. For a moment you thought he might even be using his chakra to reach out to you, but your signatures only intermingled at the edges when you checked. Glancing back, you saw his eyes on the pages of his book. 

He looked so good like that, with the warm light of the fire flickering across his face, his dark eyes catching the glow. His one arm across the back of the couch, the material doing little to hide the tone of his muscles, and his sweatpant clad legs, sitting open and just inviting you to take a seat. The urge to straddle him and rip the book out of his hands was so startlingly strong that you fumbled the duster and dropped it on the floor.

You cleared your throat with wide eyes, facing away from him while you picked it up. A voice in your brain told you to walk away to take a moment, so you headed for the linen closet in the hallway. You could feel his eyes on you until you disappeared.

While putting the duster away, you took a deep breath. You looked back in his direction and pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat of it. You reminded yourself that those thoughts were absolutely inappropriate, and decided it was close enough to five that you could probably just leave and rid yourself of your indecent thoughts away from him. 

“Hey, I'm going to go ahead and head out,” You called to him, walking to the kitchen table to grab your bag. 

“Oh, that time already?” He sounded disappointed. 

“Uh, yeah. I'll see you in the morning,” You put on your coat and slung your bag over your shoulder. 

“Okay, have a good night,” he said, watching you from the couch. 

“You too,” opening the door, you waved to him and headed out. 

You visited Hina on the way back. She was doing surprisingly well. It seemed that having Toji and her grandma's help was really good for her depression. She was already taking to motherhood well. 

On your way out, Genma was coming in for his shift. He stopped you near the barrier. 

“Hey, how's it going?” He asked with a smile.

“Good, you?”

“Good. I was wondering, since you weren't able to come to my birthday, would you come out with me this Friday for a few drinks?”

You thought for a moment. It would be nice of you to go, and you probably deserved to relax after the recent stress. Plus, you hadn't been able to properly catch up with him since coming back. 

“I'll see if Toma will take Hikaru and let you know?”

He grinned and readjusted the strap of his backpack. “Awesome. Okay, I hope he does,”

“Me too,” You replied back genuinely. 

“Cool. I'll see you later,” 

“You too.” You waved as the two of you parted and headed to the daycare distractedly, more than a few things clouding your mind. 

Taglist: @mostlyunsure, @humongousdreamlandbear, @ichaichahatake, @mandy-yeager, @detectivestucks, @faces-ofvenus

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Open requests yaaaaay!!

I feel like my request is too detailed, feel free to ignore it if it's hard for you to do so ♡

I would like to request something from tmc. As a reader who practices any sport (boxing or karate. Whatever is good.) and see the reaction of the 4 victims to this (Cesar, Mark, Adam and Jonah)

Something like, their reaction to watching their partner train or seeing how they practice it.

That would be all. Have a nice day <3

(I'm sorry if my english is really bad or something I said was misunderstood. I am using translator to write this. Really, my apologies.)

Oh no worries, your english is good! I'll do boxing for two of the fellas & karate for the other two

......

Cesar

You're at the top of your karate class, and he's proud of you fr.

Cheers you on at matches, tournaments, or even if you're just training at home in your personal dojo.

But at the same time, he gets worried whenever he sees you with a new and fresh bruise, being a very doting bf.

You just brush it off as something you did to yourself on accident.

Because you know he'll try to beat up whoever did that even tho he's nowhere near as strong as you.

His mom has plenty of medical supplies and ice packs at their home, so he always has them on-hand so you never run out.

Fortunately, you two have good reputations so neither of you have many enemies.

But if some jealous prick comes along (and they will when they see you hanging around Cesar) and harasses you two...you'll first ask them to politely leave.

If that fails or they get aggressive?

They'll leave with a black eye.

Prior to TVs being outlawed, Cesar watched Karate Kid and similar movies often to get a better understanding of your sport.

You admit to trying to learn a few moves from those films, but had yet to fully master them.

Mark

When he first learned you've practiced boxing on a daily basis, he's like "lord thank you for bringing someone who's not only sweet but also strong into my life,,,,love is real god bless-"

Tbh you don't think it's a big deal. You just like to punch things and win matches (and also protect those you loved, ofc).

Once you broke a bully's nose after they claimed you didn't "look" tough and tried to fight Mark.

He begged you to never do that again, but knows you can't make any promises.

Whenever you're training with your punching bag, he has to be careful not to accidentally sneak up on you..considering how quiet he usually is.

He's gotta make his presence known loud and clear if he wants your attention (lest he gets a broken nose, too).

After you chased an Alternate out of his house, he wonders what happened as he didn't hear any gunfire.

All you did was walk up to it and punch its jaw before jabbing it in the ribs, breaking its bones as it screamed in pain and shock, eventually running away.

Clearly, Alternates were at their strongest psychologically...not so much physically.

Your knuckles bled and bruised pretty badly, but Mark bandaged them and kissed them, thanking you nonstop for saving his life.

He murmurs prayers that your hands healed quickly, and you just smile, your love for this good man only growing.

Adam

You two are more or less polar opposites in terms of physique.

You're a boxer who has a (generally) good diet, and Adam's, well...a paranormal hunter who lives off of pizza and stale chips.

He's way out of shape and feels exhausted just from watching one of your matches alone, even if it's a video.

Eventually you suggest that he uses your punching bag to build up endurance (which he'll def need if he's running around chasing "ghosts").

However, it quickly becomes less of that and more of a release for his pent-up anger and frustrations.

Anything from a bad day at school to a rude comment calling his BPS footage "fake" will set him off; you'll hear him yelling and hitting the bag like no tomorrow.

He only stops when his knuckles bruise so badly he's in constant pain and you gotta bandage them, reminding him that he can't just wail on it nonstop without breaks.

He does admit to overdoing it, though, and lets you have it back.

Post-Catalyst, he retains some of the strength he's gained, but is deathly afraid of using the punching bag again.

His hands hurt the most when his bones broke for the first time, though as soon as he mentioned it, you bandaged them up despite it being pointless.

Tries his hardest to suppress his Alternate instincts, but he gives you full permission to beat him up if he did anything to hurt you.

Jonah

Was honestly a clueless mf before he realized you've been doing karate for years.

Apparently, he was convinced your black belt, Gi, tournament posters, and awards was just "sport merchandise".

But after all of that's clarified, he supports you 101 percent!

Tries attending the matches or tournaments you're in (luckily for you, he's willing to put those events above BPS missions), though half the time he's covering his eyes because he hates to see you get hurt.

He will, however, cheer the loudest should you win the round and brag about it to everyone he knows.

Lowkey wishes he can do all of those sick kicks and flips that you perform with ease, but remembers he'd probably pass out on the mat.

One time, he was stoned and insisted he could chop through the stack of wood you keep in your dojo, thinking it couldn't be that difficult.

Oh how wrong he was.

Next thing you knew, he's sobbing on the couch and you had to bandage his bruised hand, constantly reassuring him that his bones didn't shatter into a billion pieces.

It continued to be sore for the next several days, and you'd keep giving him that look of "I told you so" whenever he whined about it hurting.

[ind1c0lite]

Woe pearly be upon yee

[spotsupstuff]

HMM maybe classic ol moon and pebbles and the vanilla sibs (monk, survivor) for rw requests? You have no idea how excited i was to see someone else point out the possible parallels/symbolism between the 2 pairs of siblings when you made the post abt them ... either that or daszombes "iterator logs" characters, if youve seen it!

i am SO sorry for how long this took me to get to, holy shit, but ouhg yesssssss the sibling parallels are SO -punches wall- GOOD. are they speakin to the slugs? are they speaking to the wind, hoping it will carry their words all the way to the other? nobody will tell, nobody shall know

[mishapen-dear]

look at them having a completely normal non-manipulative friendship what good friends they all are. look at those happy smiles and ignore the red lines im sure the red has no symbolism at all hahaha

[anoiximera]

Part 4

Apropos of Nothing

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