#true blood nights! UM. it's such an interesting show

[safyresky]

So I've started watching True Blood bc my work girlies love it and were like WE'RE DOING TRUE BLOOD NIGHTS and my GOD. It's wild?????? We've gotten to season two and I'm like WHAT. This show reads like a crazy fanfic and watching it is like, feels like it should be cringe??? And it is but like. DELIGHTFULLY SO. I think watching it with a group is adding to the experience. ANYWAY. Jason Stackhouse is the dumbest bitch alive, I LOVE Lafayette and my GOD I hope he gets to be a slutty, slutty vampire tbh

[ohcaptains]

what if this is real?

pairing. ellie williams x female! reader

an. i'm gonna pretend that this isn't my first fic in six months and just move on...anyway. um. hi? i hope you enjoy -- not my usual filth. love u.

synopsis. it's the end of the world, but there's still parties to attend. or, the first kiss in yours and ellie's situationship.

warnings. kissing -- suggestive language and swearing. probably the most tame i've written in a hot min!

You’re standing in front of Ellie’s door, thinking, fuck this.

It would be easy to turn around and pretend that you’ve forgotten all about the party. You could pretend that you’d slept through the whole thing. Ignore the – eventual – banging on your door, and the husk of Ellie’s voice penetrating the wood, asking, Babe, you sleeping?

Your cold fingers reach down and tug at your rising skirt, and you think -- for the third time this night -- that you shouldn’t have worn this God damned outfit.

The alcohol you’d downed before trudging over here quiets that voice a little, but you’re always nervous around Ellie.

If you told her that, she’d scoff and laugh you off. It was true, though. She made you go all doe-eyed and dumb.

The thought of her complimenting you made you wear this silly outfit, and It was winter, for fucks sake.

You knock on her door, déjà vu washing over you. How many times have you stood, nervous, at Ellie’s door? You chew on your bottom lip, playing with the hem of your skirt still.

“Coming!” Ellie’s familiar cadence immediately hollers.

She fumbles around with something, and when she opens the door, she’s tugging a simple tank top over her muscular belly.

You briefly glance at her middle, eyes finding the faint lines of her abs.  

“Well don’t you look nice,” she teases.

When you eventually drag your eyes to her eyes, she’s giving you a once-over, a teasing beam on her pretty, freckled face.

As if to get a better look at your outfit, she pushes her loose auburn hair behind her ears.

Music floods through the open door – some shitty indie band she had a thing for – but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears from her previous compliment.

It wasn’t all that great– she’d said you had looked nice – but that, plus the interest in her green eyes as she examines you, has your belly swirling.

Ellie steps back to get a better look. She licks the corner of her mouth and nods to you. “Twirl for me.”

Your eyes automatically roll, but you listen anyway -- hands out at your waist, you do a little slow twirl. Ellie whistles low.

When you face her again, she’s leaning against the door frame, muscular arms crossed over her chest and grinning cockily. “Oh yeah, putting on a show for me.” “Shut up – are you coming?” you ask, ignoring the heat that finds you and jabbing a thumb behind you.

Ellie drags her eyes away from the cut of your skirt, glancing into the distance. She nods as if she’s just remembered. As she nods, small bits of hair flutter onto her broad shoulders.

Her white tank is damp, too, with small patches of water staining the fabric.  

“Oh yeah, I just got distracted. My hair was touching my shoulders weird, so I’m trying to cut it but I think I’ve fucked up the back.”

Trust Ellie to get that distracted and take up such a monumental task before a party. You motion for her to turn.

“Twirl for me.”

Begrudgingly, she does, managing to roll her eyes.

“Oh my god,” you suddenly gasp, hands flying to your mouth, “what have you done?”

Ellie spins, grabbing the back of her head in a panic.

“What?” she asks, green eyes wide. Just as quick as you put the act on, you drop it with a shrug. “It’s fine, just slightly uneven.”  

“You’re an asshole, get in here.”

She grabs your hand and yanks you in, closing the door behind you. The speed makes you dizzy, so you grab a hold of her shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

“Whoa – gimmie a minute,” you whisper, trying to blink the world back into the frame.

Ellie immediately bends to look at you, confused.

There’s a beat where she’s concerned, and she gives you another once over, trying to see if there’s anything physically wrong. “The fuck is wrong with you?” she asks, nervous laughter bubbling out of her lips. “I’m –” you start to admit, blinking the fuzz away. Ellie watches you put your forefinger and thumb together, squinting, explaining that you’re, “– slightly drunk,” and she frowns, her face hard, waiting for you to explain further. “I’m wearing a skirt,” you simply state, and her frown deepens, mouth quirking to the side. She glances down, eyeing the short fabric.

“I noticed,” she bleats. “And I needed a little liquid courage…” you let out an exasperated sigh, shaking your head at yourself. “Neil’s homemade wine is no joke.” “Okay, sit down,” Ellie orders.

She begins to walk towards you, using her body to edge you closer to her bed, and you frown, asking, “What?” but still, you move with her. You try and explain that “I’m fine,” but Ellie just shakes her head, “Sit down, before you fall down.”

She can’t be serious. She’s seen me drunk before…worse than this. “El- “you begin, and her face tenses, no more fun Ellie. Her hard tone is unwavering as she asks, “Do I have to pick you up and sit you down myself?”

Your eyes widen, and there’s a beat of silence where your body reacts to her words.

Holy shit, you think, cheeks going hot. You have to laugh to hide it – have you push your thighs together.

The fuck was that?

“Ooo, okay,” you scoff, hands up, brows wiggling, and you let Ellie finish walking you to her unmade bed. You bounce onto the mattress, hands in your lap obediently.

The desire to explain hits you again, and you push at the mattress, saying, “Ellie, seriously, I’m fine.”

It’s a lie – every time you twist your head, the world turns – and the sudden concern from her is slightly overwhelming, if not embarrassing.

Still, she ignores your comment and walks to the sink, pouring you a glass of water, and then she grabs something from a wooden box. She thrusts both into your hands. “A bran muffin?” you question, staring at the lopsided baked good. Ellie pushes the glass to your face, and you glance up at her over the rim.

Her jaw is tense with unease, and her shoulders are rolled back, heavy with responsibility.

When you don’t move, she leans down, and her face is blurry, hand blurry, as you see the side of it before she taps your cheek softly.   “Drink and eat – I’m gonna finish my hair.”

Then she turns to the bathroom, and you watch her muscular back disappear.

90’s indie pours into her little apartment, and you sit, dumbfounded at what has just happened.

You diligently sip at the water.

Ellie is always a little hot-headed, and yeah, when you mucked about on runs, she’d snap into leader mode, but the alcohol, threaded with the warmth of her apartment, your nerves, and the bare skin of her neck and arms – the slither of skin between her belt and hem of her top – have you befuddled.

She’d slipped into protective mode so quickly.

Was a little mean about it too.

You lay back on her bed, pulling the hem of your skirt down to try and cover your bare thighs, and frown at her ceiling, munching on the muffin.

Come to think of it, Ellie had been odd these last couple of weeks.

Your usual flirtatious banter has been edged with something else, and she was glancing at you more often – ushering you in front of her on runs, so she could watch your back. Pulling you behind her all the same.

Do I have to pick you up and sit you down myself?

You sip at the water and nibble on the muffin. Mindlessly rub circles into your lower thigh, thinking about the way she crooked her scarred brow and the hardness of her features.

Challenge me, I dare you.

Ellie always took a lot on, and she has been stressed more than usual recently, but she didn’t have to be a dick about it.

You push your bottom lip out, thinking at the ceiling. You think about her though, and something sickly sweet still swirls in your belly.

It makes your cheeks heat, and you blink away the sudden fever, clenching your eyes closed.

You manage to finish the water and the muffin, but your belly still feels funny. Hands are clammy, skin prickly.

Maybe you’re drunker than you thought.

You decide to get more water.

As you get to her kitchenette, she glances at you from the bathroom beside it.

“You okay?” she asks, and you turn to her. She’s mid-chop, the scissors loosely sitting in her grip. She’s also taken her top off. Now donning only her bra and jeans, the swirl in your belly doubles.

The sight is not uncommon for you, but you find it hard to be angry at her when she’s half-naked.

There’s a light dusting of loose auburn hair on her shoulders, and she drops the scissors, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair.

You glance down at her chest, seeing the faint muscles flex as she stretches. Her jeans hang low around her hips, and it’s only then that you notice they’re unbuttoned.

How hadn’t you noticed that before?

“Babe?” “Hm?” you hum, snapping back to her. She’s wearing a bold smile. Your throat constricts. “I asked if you were okay.” “Oh –” you start, quickly turning to the sink. You pour more water, shaking your head. You remember where you are. Remember what’s happening.

“No,” you start, crossing your arms under your chest, “you were mean.” Ellie pauses. When you turn back to her, there’s an amused smile on her face, “Mean?” she asks, “Yeah – “you firmly jut, sipping your water. “I’m not a child Ellie.” Ellie mimics your stroppy face and puts her arms under her chest, too.

You risk a glance at her chest and see that her nipples are hard, peaking through the soft fabric of her bra.

Fuck. You snap back to her face.

“What do you mean?” she questions, cocking her head to the side. She begins to sway towards you, and you don’t move as she comes to rest in front of you – your back to the kitchen counter. There’s a second where your brain short-circuits. You forget that you’re meant to be mad at her. Her long fingers reach up, and you glance at her hand, breath caught in your throat. She smooths your hair behind your ear, inches away, “You’re my wittle baby.”

“You’re annoying,” you quickly groan, trying to suppress your smile as you turn to put the glass in the sink.

Ellie groans, “Ughhhh, I know I know, I’m awful—” and reaches around to take the empty glass from you and put it in the sink.

You stare at it. You could have done that. You were about to do that.

 She takes your hand, turning you to face her again.

“Come help me with the back.”

Your intertwined hands rest between you, pushing against your bare thigh.

Ignoring it seems like the wisest path. “Why should I?” you quirk, a faux frown on your face.

She’d put your glass in the sink. She’d taken the glass out of your hand and put it in the sink for you. Ellie pouts, pushing her bottom lip out, and she leans her full body weight on you, hips flush against yours, suddenly so close as she whispers, “You don’t want me to look pretty?”

Your belly flips. The smell of her, citrusy and damp, floods your nostrils, and you try to blink away the sudden dizziness that threatens to wash over you.

It’s then that you realise you’re not all that drunk anymore.

It’s just Ellie.

Your eyes flick down to her lips.

You trace the pink of them, focusing on the little cut she’s got there from chewing nervously. The air is suddenly thicker – all-consuming, and on your belly, you feel the brush of the button on Ellie’s jeans.

Warmth blooms, confusing and sudden.

Ellie’s silent. Looking up at her, you find that she’s studying you, too. Lavish green bathes you and you feel her unlock her hand from yours, pushing them onto the countertop on either side of your hips. The movement forces her closer, and you instinctually lean back, gasping as she follows you, forehead against yours.

You grab the back of her neck to stabilise yourself.

Her hands have moved to hold your hips.

There’s a fleeting second where you think she’s going to kiss you, but she instead brushes her nose against yours, and your mouth opens, a small hush of breath escaping.

Whatever this is, it’s never happened before. This is uncharted territory.

Your fingers stuff into her loose auburn strands, and you look down at where your body connects, seeing the tops of her breasts in the fabric bra. Her hardened nipples push at the cotton.

You drag your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath.

Looking back to Ellie, she’s watching you watch her. A small, crooked smile has absorbed her lips, and her cheeks are flushed pink, warm under your curious gaze.

She looks at your mouth, pushes her forehead against yours again, and inhales deeply, exhaling as she whispers, “Really wanna kiss you.”

Your heart picks up speed, the beat of it making your skin prickle -- your fingers numb.

A nervous panic finds you, and words fail as Ellie lazily gazes at your lips.

Your fingers move in her hair, cradling the back of her head, and, “Kiss me, then,” you whisper.

You barely see Ellie’s fleeting smile before she’s moving to press her lips to yours.

Her touch is tentative. Nervous, as she thumbs your hips, soft lips brushing against yours. Your eyes flutter closed, leaning into her mouth, and Ellie hums, the sound of it echoing through your body.

She pulls away for a second – maybe to centre herself - but you come back, excitedly brushing your tongue over her lips before kissing her, swallowing the surprised groan she emits.

Her hands tighten on your hips, while yours come to clutch the back of her head again. She tastes warm and new, the feeling unfamiliar, but you quickly become accustomed to it as she tongues her way into your mouth, body pressing tight against yours.

Heat consumes, warm and sudden.

For a fleeting second, you think, I’m kissing my best friend, but the thought is pushed away as Ellie’s hands greedily push behind you, flattening against your ass.

A gasp flutters out of your mouth, followed by an immediate swirl in your belly.

You move your hand, massaging the muscular side of her stomach. The kiss picks up as your hands move, your thumb running over the band of her bra.

Ellie whispers your name, desperate and breathy, and suddenly, it’s all too real -- you pull away.

Your eyes flutter open, and you swallow a gasp.

“We’re going to be late,” you rush, hand flattening on her stomach. Ellie takes a minute to collect herself. You can’t look at her as she watches you, emotions a whirlwind.

Eventually, her breathing settles. “Shit, yeah. The party,” she whispers, and she pulls back, hands leaving your body, the heat dispersing. She itches the back of her neck, nervously looking around. “Er – fuck. Lemme put a shirt on,” and as she looks for one, you lean against the counter, head hung back as you silently curse at the ceiling.

The walk to the party is silent.

Ellie – bless her heart – keeps a tight grip on your hand, thinking you’re still tipsy, but the alcohol has faded from your veins, replaced by a thicker, more visceral intoxication.

The touch of her is maddening.

You try and keep up, but your brain is foggy, and you’ve suddenly forgotten the way to the Tipsy Bison.

Ellie’s hand in yours is like a homing beacon.

Really wanna kiss you.

That’s what she’d said, right? The tenor of her voice consumes your mind, followed by the taste of her, and the slow-building desperation as she pulled you against her.

You hear the reverberating sound of her quick breathing as the bar comes into view, bright lights pouring out of its windows.

When Ellie pushes the door open, she drops your hand.

“Look who decided to finally show up!” Jesse hollers when he sees you. A hot acid shoots through your chest.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you mumble, pulling away. Ellie glances at you, eyes sombre, and you think she’s about to say something, but no words make it out. “What’d I miss?” you hear Jesse ask. You clench your hand together. Really wanna kiss you.

Of course, Joel is behind the bar. His smile is welcoming and warm as he takes you in.

“Fashionably late?” he quirks as you lean against the wood.

“Er, yeah. Something like that,” you mumble, then motion behind you.

“Your girl always has the best timing.” Joel squints. He flicks his curious gaze between you and Ellie, noting the way she’s watching you, and his mouth twists, teasing. “I think you mean your girl.”

“What?” you snap, head craning to Joel. His smile widens. Panic blooms again. “She say something?” you rattle, not bothering to hide the eagerness in your tone, and Joel shakes his head, pouring you a drink. He pours two, and slides them to you, “Not a word.”

The night passes in a blur. You spend most of it with Claire from the Kitchen, ignoring the burn at the back of your neck from Ellie’s eyes.

It doesn’t matter where you scamper off too – her gaze always finds you, searing a hole in your spine.

At one point, Claire cuts you off mid-sentence, “Sorry, Ellie’s looking at me weird.” “What?” you ask, turning immediately. You find the green-eyed girl staring, and when you glance at her, she quickly snaps away, almost flinching. With a sigh, you turn back to Claire.

“It’s not you – it’s me. It’s—” you shake your head, “—a long story.” “Well, maybe you can explain later because she’s coming our way.” You twist, and sure enough, Ellie is pushing through the crowd, half-full drink in hand. When she looks at you, she takes a sip, as if she needs the liquid courage.

Quickly, she’s inches away, and you smell the musky citrusy warmth of her. Take in her frame from your seat in the booth. Really wanna kiss you.

Her eyes find you, and they’re glazed from what looks like whiskey in her tumbler.  “Um. Can we talk? Please,” then, “Hi Claire.”

Claire waves. There’s a beat of silence where you just look at Ellie – your friend, Ellie, who you just kissed – and you find that you’re rooted to the spot.

You don’t want to talk about it.

Don’t want to talk about how dizzy she made you feel, how you’d begged for more, reaching for the warmth of her lips as you dragged your hands over her narrow body.

Kiss me then.

When you don’t move, Ellie’s features freeze, and there’s fear there – please. Please talk to me.

You begin to slide out. Put on a front for Claire who is looking between the pair of you, perplexed. “Yeah, sure Els. Sorry, Claire, I’ll find you, okay?” Ellie holds a hand out for you to hold, but she pulls it back, scornful of the instinct. Shame, as you were about to grab it.  

When you get out of the Tipsy Bison, you realise that the temperature has dropped rapidly.

You’re about to comment on the weather, but Ellie is turning, suddenly, stopping near the notice board and holding her hands up.

“I’m sorry,” she spits, the apology loud in the chilly air.

There’s no one around. They’re all either in bed or at the party, and the empty streets of Jackson make her apology more real, almost – just the two of you.

Music bleeds through the wood, swirling between the pair of you.

She clasps her long fingers together and starts tugging at them, wringing them out like a wet towel.

“I’m – fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry for kissing you it was…” she shakes her head, not able to find the word. Her lip wobbles and you remember that Ellie’s an emotional, needy drunk. “…I’m sorry,” she whispers again, words cracking. She looks at her Converse, ashamed. You take her red hands. Smooth your fingers over the marks she’d rubbed into them, silently begging for her to look at you.

Ellie had never kissed you before. But thinking about it, there’s not an ounce of regret floating in your body.

Confusion, sure but confused because you want it to happen again.

You bend to look at her, saying, with every fibre of your being that “It’s okay.” She’s quick to brush you off. Still looking at the floor, she states, “You were drunk.” “I wasn’t that drunk, Ellie. You’d plied me with food, and I had two glasses of water.” She shrugs, “Still.”

Taking a tentative step closer, you tug her hands, holding them close to your belly. Ellie runs hot and holding her has taken the edge off the chill.

Kiss me then. “I asked you to kiss me, Els.”

And I’d ask you to kiss me again if you weren’t so sad. Did kissing me make you sad, Ellie?

She slowly raises her head. There she is.

You husk, “I’m sorry if I made this confusing.” “No – I. I shouldn’t have,” she flexes her fingers around yours, “said what I said. I didn’t mean it.” Your face falls. Quickly, you try and pull the mask back up, but you squeak, “You didn’t mean it?” Ellies pales.

“Fuck—” she pulls her hands away, turning her back to you.

“I always say the wrong shit.”

Without her touch, the Jackson cold consumes you. A blue wave crashes into you. Lonely.

You’re lonely, standing on the porch of the Tipsy Bison, watching her back move as she rubs the base of her palms into her eyes.

She spits a curse. The air swirls under your skirt, and you suddenly feel a sickly feeling in your belly.

Your voice is a shell of itself when you whisper, “Ellie. We can just forget it happened if that’s what you want.” You get no response.

Had you made it all up? Had you read it wrong? Had Ellie even said what you thought she had?

“Please say something,” you breathe, picking at your nails.

You lick your lips and taste the ghost of her, hot and desperate in her apartment.

The musky taste of her will haunt you. Will consume your dreams, you’re sure of it, and you’ll wake, startling back into Jackson with that Blue Wave knocking into you once again.

Her back flexes. Silence ticks. Music bleeds, tinny – not real. Might as well not be.

The echo of the kiss fizzes at the back of your teeth like the hard-boiled sweet Ellie had slipped you during a drill one morning.

It’s lemon, she whispered, just don’t choke on it when we run.

You turn, ready to run back to your apartment and hide under your duvet.

Rid yourself of this shame that has suddenly consumed you, the Blue Wave that runs cold, but warm Ellie takes your hand, pulling it to her.

A gasp lodges in your throat, and Ellie’s speaking, spewing the truth at you with wild, green eyes.

“I did want to kiss you, fuck. I did. I did, I did---I do!” she brandishes the words like a weapon, planting it into Jackson, the first man on the moon.

 “and I—probably should have waited for a better moment. But you were just—” she huffs, shaking her head at herself, holding your hand like it’s hers and she’s not really holding it, just, feeling it there, the constant feel and not feel of your limb, warm and fuzzy from under the skin.

You watch her swallow down a thousand eventualities, a thousand ways to phrase her thoughts.

Finally, “I do want to kiss you,” she concludes. After a beat, she flashes you a small Ellie smile, and Jackson isn’t cold anymore. It’s summer. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “Okay,” she copies. “Cool.” “Yeah,” another Ellie smile, “Cool.” “You wanna go back inside? I’m freezing.” “Yeah,” she nods, holding her/your hand, “Cool.”

[kissingfinelines]

High School! Nanami headcanons

(ac: mineco000 on twt!)

(emo nanami x gn! reader)

A/N: If no one else is gonna pump out emo kento content ig I’ll do it :/

Gets teased constantly about being emo (mainly by his peers Gojo, Geto, Haibara, etc.) It’s all in good fun and it doesn’t really get to him but when he catches feelings for you it makes him wonder if he’d be your type.

He wonders if you’d like boys like him because he’s noticed that outgoing fun guys like Gojo are typically seen as more attractive.

You’re oblivious to his crush on you because he’s always quiet unless he has something worth saying. But Haibara noticed immediately because…

Nanami is usually quiet but does small gestures that show his true feelings towards someone. Like whenever you talk Nanami gives you his full attention but when you look at him he immediately turns away and just nods. Haibara notices this and giggles about it.

YU HAIBARA NUMBER #1 WINGMAN

He’s always telling Nanami to shoot his shot w you!

H: “C’mon I’ll set up a date and everything! We could go to a cafe [as a group of 3] but then I’ll lie and say I left my stove on or something. Then I’ll leave and it would just be the two of you!”

Nanami says it’s the stupidest idea he’s ever heard (but he considers it for days.)

He doesn’t try to flirt with you because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable (but he practices what to say to you in the mirror and Haibara caught him one time 💀)

NK: “So um, Y/N, what… kind of music do you like?” He mumbles to the mirror, awkwardly fixing his hair. He tries to imagine your response in his head.

“Oh, I love the same music as you, Ken! Take me to a concert so we can rave and make out!” Haibara teases from the doorway, making his voice high pitched. He wraps his arms around himself and makes kissing sounds.

Nanami threw a pillow at him and jumped him.

But when he is alone with you…

For example, if it’s just you two on a mission, he’ll try to make small talk even though he hates it.

He’ll bring up anything he knows you like (shows, movies, music, etc.) because even if he knows nothing about it, he likes watching the way you light up when you talk about your interest.

If you’re walking next to each other and your hands touch he won’t visibly react but he will scream internally.

If you flirt with him even as a joke, he won’t know how to react and he will blush like crazy. His face will be so red you’ll ask if he’s having an allergic reaction.

Constantly fights the urge to look at any part of you

Finally confessing…

If you confess first:

He’ll ask if you’re joking. Even if you confirm that you’re not, he’ll ask 10 more times.

He’ll start to smile but quickly cover the corner of his mouth with the neck of his uniform jacket.

He finally makes eye contact with you and softly says “I like you too.”

He’d like to kiss you on the spot, but thinks it’d be more romantic to wait for the first date.

Instead, he asks to hold your hand. When you accept, he holds it tightly, wondering how he got so lucky.

If he confesses first…

It would probably be after a long mission. It’s late at night and you’re both pretty beat.

You’d be covered in scratches and cuts, bleeding lightly. But to Nanami, you’re still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

Without thinking, he’d reach forward and wipe a drop of blood from your chin.

When you ask him why he did that, he’d just shrug and give a small tired smile. He’s usually stoic, but how could he not smile after a job well done?

And in all honesty, he’s just glad he didn’t lose you.

It’s late and you’re both exhausted, so he suggests going to a local bakery he loves and insists that he’ll pay.

It doesn’t matter if you order a pastry or a sandwich, he’s happy to treat you.

On the walk back to campus, he watches as you eagerly chow down on whatever he bought you. He decides to use whatever adrenaline he has left to confess his feelings for you.

NK: “Hey, there’s something that’s… been on my mind for a while. I’ve tried to ignore it but, it’s pretty difficult to do when it’s about someone like you.”

He rambles on how about how much he likes you. His words sound like a poet but they’re basically verbatim with the lyrics of his favorite song.

Once he’s done he goes quiet and looks at you. “So… what do you think? I don’t expect you to feel the same, but if you do…”

When you tell him you feel the same, his knees go weak. He can’t even believe the words you’re saying.

“I’ve always liked you, Kento.” You laugh, placing a hand on his arm.

“You’re lying.” Nanami’s eyes are wide with surprise.

“I’m not, I swear! I thought I made it obvious. Even Haibara noticed.”

“He what.”

[stellernorth]

[dashboard simulator of a world without the ghostfacers effect where the true supernatural show is perceived]

🫀waityourrturn Follow

spot the difference stick figure violence and samruby moments

(1 note)

🟪 sparklezzstiel Follow

if i was the mall cop who got kid sam in trouble for stealing nail polish i would have instead helped him steal more nail polish. also i wouldn’t be a cop

(184 notes)

🧪dogsogdog4 Follow

hey i’m finally watched lazarus rising and i cannot see anything when “castiel” enters its just fully white and the static noise is kind of painful tbh lol. is this a my computer problem or what

(7 notes)

🎉 rowenapublicindecancy Follow

(52 notes)

🫐 numberfff000 Follow

you all aren’t taking like medical advice from supernatural right??? the medical advice that has resulted in canonically [checks notes] one (1) instance of blindness due to ingesting rubbing alcohol, two (2) toe amputations and one (1) case of SEPSIS?!

🎪 kevinscriminalrecord Follow

no we aren’t doing that

🌠 mixtapesextape Follow

Sounds like someone hasn't heard about the kitchen accident diy stitches girl from LiveJournal. So weird that the fandom today doesn't know about her, back in the day it was everywhere.

🎪 kevinscriminalrecord Follow

huh???

🧔‍♀️ heritagepostsof-spn Follow

Heritage Post.

(1943 notes)

🥬 fishhooklove Follow

day 1 of asking john winchester to put his cigs out on me

🤟hannahgirl Follow

could you stop

🥬 fishhooklove Follow

oh here come the buzzkills. i bet you thought it was hot when bela did it to dean. but i’m not allowed to express my interests i guess.

(218 notes)

⛸️ mangojuicecas Follow

Um Guys i had this guy i’m seeing over and we were taking. about watching a movie. and. im the most embarrassed i’ve ever been i can barely type this. and i opened my computer and clicked to the netflix tab. and it was paused mid crypt scene blowjob kill meeeee 😭😭😭

🩶 charlierowena2024 Follow

why would you ever stop halfway through. that's like looking at half of starry night then closing your eyes and leaving the museum

(78 notes)

🧑🏻‍🦳s6monster Follow

Uquiz - Which Supernatural scars are you?

I GOT RUBY’S ARM SCARS WAAAH

(3 notes)

👩‍🦰 cleopatralumineersrowena Follow

depeche mode master and servant spn bdsm and fight scene compilation amv we're really in it now

#using lyrics as censor bars is the innovation of the century

(59 notes)

🌂 kansaslawrence Follow

for everyone who said dean slamming his hand in the impala door when he was drunk wouldn't do that to his fingernails i did a similar thing (accidentally, before the show aired) #deancoded loll and it looked basically the same. here are pics of my and his hands afterwards side by side for reference

(482 notes)

🍄 0nth3h34d0f4p1n Follow

Another reason samruby is queercoded is how her spitting blood into his mouth parallels the champagne scene in my beautiful laundrette

(38 notes)

🎃 sammmyspooks Follow

2.16 "this disease pumping through my veins and i can't rip it out or scrub it clean--i've tried; i'm a whole new level of freak" and 8.21 "you used to read to me when i was little i mean really little" etc we all remember sir galahad speech. sooooo how young do you think sam was when he first tried

(739 notes)

🪼 ccoldfridge Follow

just remembered how dean tried his best to ask cas to take a female vessel so they could fuck heterosexually in ftbyam and i nearly passed out in the post office . castielllllll he was saying he wanted to fuck youuu

(63 notes)

🤵 a1waysenduphere Follow

comparing the endverse sam arc to the classic structure of a shakespearean tragedy

part 1: aloneness and exposition

keep reading

(382 notes)

👩 isolationnatural Follow

the way people #coquette #lanadelrey #femaleangst -ify claire's s12 shoplifting eating disorder getting into fights self medicating situation is so so weird and fucked up. we saw stanford era dean do literally exactly all the same shit but with him it's ohhh classic beautiful americana what a tragic figure i understand his emotions have depth and complexity THEY DID ALL THE SAME STUFF maybe think about why you see the situations differently

(294 notes)

🔵 butchruby4femanna Follow

why did i have to see dean naked that many times. just wondering again

(2 notes)

⚡ cassandrasam Follow

ok spn 5x20. so sam's kissing the demon possessing brady out of nostalgia and grief for his dead boyfriend, the demon's kissing back because he knows it will make sam more likely to listen to him, imagine if dean had walked in in that moment

❗greendean Follow

or crowley

(158 notes)

🍇 notgoodnatural Follow

hey everyone. wjsh i could have seen dean naked more times.

(10 notes)

[ielectrica]

Headcanons for Alejandra Huerta-Morena (one of my TWST OC's!)

⋆ She does have magic, but her magic is incompatible in Twisted Wonderland. So in order for her to actually learn magic, she would have to start all over again. So this is why, for now, she's in Ramshackle!

⋆ If Alejandra had an UM, it would be this:

"Fortuna Estrella" Her fortunes and future readings are extremely accurate and it allows her to see a little bit into the future. Her visions are also vivid and more detailed than the average seer's. A small reading would cost her only a little bit of her magic, but they would have to recuperate for up to 12 hours before using it again. A good sized reading would have to take up to 24 hours to be fully recuperated from before in order to do another reading. Finally, for a full on reading, she would need to say the full chant as well as tap into her full magical potential. But that takes a toll on her mental health as well as causes migraines. Depending on how intense the vision is, she could end up losing blood via having a nose bleed or pass out due to the mental exertion it brings upon them. For them to be able to use it fully again, they would need up to 48 hours to recuperate from using up that much magic before doing it again.

⋆ Ale identifies as a demigirl since they're okay with femininity as a concept and for themself sometimes, but they do sometimes prefer a more gender-neutral, more nebulous form of gender identity.

⋆ Ms. Huerta-Morena is proficient when on the drums from the time that she had started a band with some of her classmates while in school.

⋆ Yes, she's also intersex with not only clitoromegaly, but with Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia, which was found out early in her life (during her later childhood years when puberty hit with irregular periods, higher amounts of testosterone, more muscle at the age of seven, ended up being taller than everyone else in their grade, having some thick facial hair that they would end up shaving off, broader shoulders, XX chromosomes, deeper, huskier voice, body hair on her arms, legs, her chest, stomach, and a bit at the side and bottom of her toes)!

⋆ Their height is 5'11.5"

⋆ Before she ended up in Twisted Wonderland, she was actually a dancer starting from the age of three, which means that prior to being transported, she's danced for 21 years as a Broadway dancer! (Tenth life)

⋆ They have a toned, fit physique from dancing and sword fighting.

⋆ When she saw that Night Raven College didn't have a club that didn't specifically cater to her interests, Alejandra ended up making a club called History and Appreciation of Dance (HAD).

⋆ Having lost their eye through having acid thrown at them, they now have gray and golden glass eyes that they carry around with them. Every now and again, they would have to replace that glass eye with the other one. Their skin around their eye and the upper half of her cheek as well as on their eyelid is tender and sensitive after many surgeries performed on them form having acid thrown at them. No matter what the surgeons and doctors tried to do, her eye couldn't be saved due to how much it had melted when the acid had made contact.

⋆ Alejandra seems to only understand the basics of how modern technology (such as smartphones and such) work but beyond that, she would need some assistance.

⋆ Although she hasn't played any video games in her life, she'd be willing to be taught how! She's more proficient with board games though and has a competitive streak when it comes to them!

⋆ She has a trust system (kind of like a dating sim/otome game style system) where if you get to their highest level, they’ll show you their face underneath their mask and tell you about their true self.

⋆ Right now, the reason that you wouldn't see facial hair or excess body hair on Alejandra is because they're the type to (right now since this can change based on which interactions they'll have!) want to not want to deal with a lot of body hair, especially their facial hair since going to laser appointments makes them nearly freeze and lose their breath. Going to the doctors for any kind of exams (especially those involving surgeries that are for her genitals, doctors and surgeons taking pictures of her naked body, the amount of medications she has to take just so she doesn't go into shock, etc.) has made her wariness and fear of the healthcare system increase tenfold. So she ends up avoiding most of it along with with therapy like the plague.

⋆ They're Afro-Latina with some indigenous blood in them, so they'll have a sepia (reddish-brown, so some warmer undertones with some warm overtones) complexion with hair that's almost constantly in locs to protect her hair and she washes it like once a month in order for the oils to not dry out. She also has coarse hair that's also tight and curly, requiring a lot of time and patience to care for! It can also be seen as puffy since it's bouncy and has evenly distributed tight curls, so her hair's almost constantly in locs to protect her hair and she washes it like once a month in order for the oils to not dry out. As for her nose, she has a thinner bridge with a fuller nose. Her eyes are a smoky, charcoal grey due to her having some blue eyed- people in her family tree and some people who have other eye colors such as green as well!

⋆ Her piercings consist a golden bottom lip piercing, a golden septum piercing, and long golden earrings of a sun and a crescent moon with Alejandra having a mole on the bottom of her cheek and closer to her pouty lips. Accompanying her neck is a black choker with a golden crescent moon on it alongside a delicate golden necklace with upside down triangle patterns closer to where her shoulder blades are.

⋆ In terms of her estranged family, she still loves them, but it's complicated since she resents the things that they did to her such as telling the doctors and surgeons that it was okay to do surgeries on her without her consent as an infant and that's a big part of why she hates herself and her "ugly" body. Her younger brother, (changing his name from Alfonso) Diego, still loves and cares for her, but is ignorant of her struggles since they don't communicate as much as they used to. Alejandra and Diego are like 6 - 7 years apart in age difference too, so Alejandra almost had to raise Diego in a sense.

⋆ Alex has had ten lives thus far, averaging out to 500 years. This means that by approximately the age of 50, they are most likely to be met with some sort of deadly demise. Their soul is immortal and Alex ends up collecting all of the memories of their past lives, thus some family estrangement was inevitable. Especially in this life. However, her family member aren't immortal and their memories don't carry with them, so they get confused as to why she hold these grudges and resentments.

⋆ Alejandra doesn't exactly know what she wants in terms of family because she used to have a loving and caring family before her interest and hyperfixation on magic and alchemy in general (healing to be more specific). Since they had been so fixated and obsessed with that and with the trauma that she went through of literally being burned at the stake due to being accused of witchcraft. They abandoned and disowned her before that though and the heartache she went through because of the sins that she has committed in her family's eyes has caused her to have a sort of distorted and "warped", I guess, view of what family is supposed to be like. Although she would like to have a child in the future, her body with it's medical issues due to the physical and mental trauma that she went through along with the extreme stress of her bereavements would most likely cause her to have a miscarriage. They would literally think of themself as useless and unworthy of any kind of love, almost giving up on the concept of having that family that they desperately want. This pertains to all of her lives, not just the first and tenth.

⋆ Alex went by a fake name so that nobody could discover her true identity and that fake name (along with fake backstory) has given her some form of comfort from the life she used to have. Although for Malleus, they would have let him call them "Child of Man".

⋆ (Pertaining to her first life as a Countess when she was born and raised in Spain; before entering Twisted Wonderland in her tenth life) Still misses their family even if their family hates their guts. At least their younger brother still cares about them even if he ended up being the reason that she ended up burned at the stake and tortured by the village folk.

⋆ Alejandra is quite knowledgeable about many things that pertain to older things in history, which can come off as peculiar to many others in Night Raven College. Although she isn’t shy or timid, Ms. Huerta-Morena tends to keep to herself due to prioritizing their homework or other things within their respective dorm above all else. She is, however, not an introvert and more of an ambivert, preferring to blend into the background. Because they’re so secretive about their life and where they originally came from, they’re not likely to make a whole lot of friends. Of course, that’s all fine and dandy by them. They’re quite competitive when it comes to playing games, (almost) having only one rule. To win.

⋆ Background for her first life (this will be separated into four sections here with a star point so that it's a little bit more digestible to read): She's a human who was a noblewoman back in Spain during the time of the inquisition about 500 years ago. So because she was interested in magic and the art of healing, she would study up on it alone sometimes in her own bedroom while attending to her duties as a Lady (being the daughter of a countess and a Count since her father was knighted by the King of Spain for his service in the Spanish military). For a while, her own parents would do their best to dissuade and discipline her (since that was against the word of God) by having her work for some nuns and priests. Her mother had felt ashamed that she was not able to instill good Christian morals into her own daughter while her father was angry at Alejandra for having listened in on the servants speak about their magic. However, the more she had done work for the Nuns and priests, the less she believed in the glory and goodness of God due to seeing people starving and begging for food and money to feed their children, for medicine to get them through another day. Was that supposed to be God's doing? If it was, then Alejandra wanted nothing to do with it. So when she was allowed to go back to her family, she apologized to them and promised that she would do better as a daughter of God. But as she grew up, she would begin to combine elements of what she was taught by her mother, father, and servants through alchemy and the "dark arts". Alejandra had gone around in the dead of night dressed as a lower class citizen in order to give away some coins, food, and water along with medicine that she had made herself in order to help those in need. Since she knew that she was putting everything on the line by doing this, she would actually go by a different name. Maria.

⋆ There would be a rivalry between the Huerta-Morena home and a few others due to them wanting to be in the King and Queen's favor. As of that particular moment, Alejandra and her family were in the favor of the royalty in the Kingdom of Spain due to her father having been knighted for his service in the Spanish military. Because the families of the other noble houses were jealous of the Huerta-Morena's wealth and status, they would give orders to their servants to follow the family wherever they went. At first, nothing was amiss. The children were obedient and acted orderly just as they should and the parents loved each other dearly. This would go on until a servant of one of the noble houses of the royal court had discovered (way later down the line) that Alejandra had been making potions and other magical, alchemical items in order to heal others in a cabin in the countryside, they had told their master and mistress about this. That was when the rumors had spread amongst themselves and amongst the people living in Spain that Alejandra was a witch practicing the "dark arts". Because there were other noble houses wishing to seek favor with the royalty of the Kingdom of Spain and it was a tumultuous time for those who weren't of pure Spanish blood (those who were Moorish, Jewish, Muslim, etc.) and the fact that Alejandra's ancestors had come from Mexico a couple of centuries earlier as slaves (yes, she is of Indigenous Mexican heritage along with having both Moorish and Jewish ancestors as well as being part Spanish like her parents and younger brother are), they were completely screwed. Before they knew it, their home would be ransacked by the Church, finding books about alchemy, magic, some writings of some ancient rituals that could cure others of their suffering, etc. Due to having found these writings and scriptures, the family would be ripped of their status and their possessions handed to the Church.

⋆ Not only did Alejandra and her family lose everything because of this, but it was due to the fact that now the other noble houses had more power than the Huerta-Morena's. Now it seemed as if they didn't run away to some other country, then they would end up dying by hanging or by burning. Alejandra would end up sparing her family by having them pack whatever it is they had left. But now, they were on the run. Becoming desperate for some kind of freedom and salvation, Alejandra would pray to God and the Gods in the skies to listen to her prayers and save them from their doomed fate. No matter what it took, she would make sure that they were safe even if now they despised her for what she had done, practicing alchemy and magic in order to save and heal others from their fate.

⋆ At this point in time, no matter what she had done, her family just wouldn't have it. There would be verbal spats and arguments about her digging even deeper into the arcane arts, going back on her promises to be on the righteous path. Due to her desperation, she would revert to darker arts and praying to the Gods. Because her family couldn't take it anymore, they had would pack up their belongings and leave her in the cabin all alone. Being all alone in a world where it practically hated her for her existence had nearly broken Alejandra… Was there any hope left for someone like her? Her family was everything to her, yet all they could see her as was just a traitor; as someone who didn't deserve to be in the family and a liability to them. All she had left was her fervent worship of the Gods, her altar, and the grimoires and books that she had been studying on magic.

⋆ Rumors spread like wildfire of Alejandra being in cahoots with the devil, of consorting with other witches of the forest and dancing naked, being a part of devilish rituals that were unholy and unnatural. The leader of the village had ordered the villagers to go find her and bring her back alive. But that wasn't what Antonio (the name of Alejandra's younger brother) had grown up with. This wasn't the version of her that he had seen! She was nurturing, protective, and fearless to the point of having defended him from bullies due to him being weak physically. However, he could not deny that she had fallen down the wayside of the righteous path. Hiding amongst the villagers that went off in search of her and the accursed cabin, he would do his best to try and find a way to bring her back. To see if she could be convinced once more to walk down the righteous path and be a daughter of God again. But what he and the other villagers had found had horrified and troubled Antonio deeply. Notes on how to summon creatures and spirits from other dimensions and worlds?! Written nonsense on how to create potions and spells to "heal" (using quotations in this case due to them not believing in that kind of logic and instead believing that God could heal all) others and actually relieve them of their suffering??? All of this was nothing but proof that Alejandra was a witch! A bride of the devil! Hearing noises of her home being ransacked, Ale would come out of her bedroom and go into the main room. Unfortunately, that was a terrible idea on her behalf. The villagers and Antonio snatched her, her cabin having been ransacked and her work having been stolen to burn. Dragging her to the center of the village, she struggled in the arms of the strongest villagers. Having already declared her a witch, they would tie her to a pole and then set fire to the hay, the people watching as she pleaded for them to hear her out, to stop this madness. But it was too late.

⋆ (Fake backstory for when Alejandra gets isekai'd into Twisted Wonderland; also mentions their fake name which is Athanasia Vita "Eternal Life"; will be divided up into sections so that it's easier to read): Coming from a humble, nomadic background, their older mother had raised them alone after they were found on the streets of her hometown. Traveling from town to town, they would tell people their fortunes, whether they were good or bad. There were even times that they would go almost without any Thaumarks/Madol and had to save them for another day. It was one night that tells a story about a girl who went on a magical adventure with some animal friends. Finding others like them along the way, they then proceeded to get rid of the evil threat that was planning to rule the world. From there, they became well-known as heroes and they lived happily ever after. Of course, that was only so that she could have good dreams when she slept since she didn't want her child to be thinking about the cruel reality of her situation of merely surviving on the meager earnings of that day’s Thaumarks/Madol.

⋆ From there, Athanasia had suddenly found her mother to be ill. Not having enough Thaumarks/Madol for medicine, she had created some herself and found that she was talented in terms of magic. Using some of her magic that night, she had predicted the future for herself and found that her mother would become well again if she had attended a prestigious school that would help enhance her abilities. Night Raven College. Once her mother found out about her magical abilities pertaining to predicting the future, she gave her the crystal ball that had been passed down from generations of fortune tellers. “Use it well for if you do not, it will break. If this breaks, it will never be of help to you again. The Great Seven will curse you to never use magic for the rest of your days.”

⋆ Working tirelessly for the next few years, they would save up more than enough Thaumarks/Madol by the time they were able to in order to expand their business. The daughter for her fortune-telling and the mother for her tarot card readings. The more well-known the duo became, the more fame that they had via word of mouth. Unfortunately, this came with some consequences as the duo were becoming more well-known. There were more customers that were not too keen on having their bad fortunes read to them.

⋆ At one point, there was a customer angry and offended enough that the daughter had endured acid to the face. Being rushed to the nearest hospital, she had to be attended to immediately. Having been there for days, she had ended up losing one of her eyes, having to use glass eyes for the rest of her life although her skin was able to be saved. However, it had left them with a scar that up to now has not fully healed. Her mother was distraught, worried for her child’s safety and health. Thus she had to close down the shop for multiple days, losing revenue on it.

⋆ But that was nothing to her compared to the potential loss of her child. From these days forward, they would have to wear intricate prosthetic masks in order to cover and hide the face as it is slowly healing. Luckily for the duo, the doctors and nurses were sympathetic enough to tell them ways that they could pay off their medical expenses, even helping them by buying some of their services. Since these were all during Athanasia’s teenage years, this has reflected on how they see beauty standards and their envy for beautiful faces. It has (to an extent) affected the way that they see themself, seeing themself as a hideous creature. To this day, they had to hide their face from the world via a prosthetic mask. Fortunately for them, the masks were used to also intimidate and scare off former disgruntled customers.

[shzmluvrs]

K so hi can u do a little Halloween one where yn an Freddy r at home watching scary movies bc Freddy can’t rly go trick or treating an after there done yn can’t sleep bc the movies scared her to much (or u could also do it with Freddy waking up bc he heard yn scream a little from like a nightmare or smt idk) an freddy stays up with her an they spend all night cuddling an talking about nerdy stuff idk if it’s to boring of an idea for u but it makes me squeal thinking about an I can’t write for Shit soooooo pls <3

Well, I can write for shit, so I'm gonna make your dreams come true, bestie😼✌🏽. Also, this is a cute plot, so I'm excited, and I hope you are, too, because you deserve to be happy and have some good cooked soup🤌🏽 (aka, good written fanfiction).

~ Star✨️

Wake Up (No Break Up)

Prompt: You love horror movies! Just... not at night. Or in the dark. Or by yourself. And no blood, guts, and/or screaming. And no slasher, paranormal, or psychological. And especially not on Halloween night.

Do...you even really like horror movies, or...?

Timeline: Post S!:FOTG

TW/Content: Mentions of gore/horror/stuff relating⚡️Freddy and reader (you) being extra reassuring🫶🏽⚡️Billy being a bitch and a half (not really, bro only pops up, like...twice)

Reader: Fem! She/Her/Hers Pronouns!

Requested By: Anon

Back to Master List

Freddy peered into his pillow case with a look of disdain smeared across his features, ignoring your buzzed rants and raves while you unlocked the front door to his home with his house key. It wasn't that he meant to, of course. Turning a deaf ear to the music that was your voice was never a controlled option, his annoyance all but getting the best of him and clouding his mind.

Again, not directed towards you.

He followed you into the house with a silence you found odd. It ceased your gossip, pocketing his keys into your own pillowcase of candy for quick safekeeping before giving the boy your full attention. He watched the blue lanyard connected to them follow, his brows knitting and a pout evident that finally pulled words of concern from your throat.

"What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"How much candy did you get?" He asked almost too quickly, throwing you off for a moment before the words finally clicked in your head.

"Oh! Um, I dunno'..." You trailed, prying your makeshift bag back open to inspect. You gave it a little shake, smiling to yourself upon seeing some of your favorite treats mixed in with the neutrals and the disliked. Even a couple of loose trinkets, some adults known throughout the neighborhood to give out small toys along with or rather than candy.

"I got-"

"Not a lot." He cut, having already eyeballed the weight of your bag to resemble his own. You shrugged at this, hardly fazed by the realization while his brown eyes continued to find interest in his shoes.

"Did... you want some of mine?" You asked, unclear of the situation suddenly presenting itself.

"No."

His answer was short, curt. Very unlike the Freddy Freeman you knew, although you loved all sides of him regardless. Even this one, a side you knew to show the very most love to. Because when he got like this, it was usually because-

"We could've gone to more houses, y'know. You and I both could've spent more time out and gotten more candy an' stuff if I didn't-... if my leg wasn't... I dunno', it's stupid."

There it is.

"Freddy..." You spoke his name with a tone of sincerity, completely dropping your bag to the floor and coming closer to your dwelling boyfriend.

"It's not stupid." You reassured. "And, I mean... yeah, we could've. But we also would've been cold, and our feet would start hurting really bad, and we'd have to keep listening to Darla scream at literally everything. And also, we'd get so far away that the walk all the way back would be horrendous. Plus, our bags would've gotten so heavy that we'd be so over it. And-"

"Yeah, but that's basically Halloween tradition!" Freddy boasted. "You didn't even really trick-or-treat if all of those haven't happened. And we didn't, just because Rosa wanted to be sure that I didn't, 'Over exert myself', whatever that means."

The boy huffed, turning away even further. It was quiet, and yet you knew he still had more to say, paitently waiting until he did so.

"We couldn't even stay out long like any other person normally does, and I had to drag you with me back home just because of this stupid crutch, and sit here, and do nothing. With barely any candy."

"Freddy-"

"And I know we could just get some from the store and yeah, I know you're probably gonna just tell me that it's okay and you don't mind, but I do, y'know?" He ranted on with a fast pace, indicating he was now onto the bit where he was beginning to overthink.

"But is it really okay? I mean, if I were you, I definitely would've wanted to stay out longer, like...- Plus, don't you think it's kind of weird how they make the candy half-price after Halloween? Like, we're already getting it for free the night of. We'll, most of us, which is why it makes me think about all of the other kids who get little to none. Like, what about them? Don't they deserve free candy, too? And-!"

"-Freddy!"

"My love."

You couldn't help but giggle, both at his tangent and his sudden pet name, before pulling yourself together enough to give him the reassurance he both needed and deserved.

"It's okay." You placed two firm hands in each of his shoulders, looking into his brown eyes with intense sincerity. You repeated your words, ensuring that they went forced into his head in order to wipe away any forms of guilt, doubt, and insecurity.

"It's okay. You know I don't care about the candy. I care about you, and spending time with you no matter what we're doing is what I enjoy. Your leg... don't let it make you think of yourself so bitterly. It doesn't change who you are as a person, and it never will unless you let it."

Freddy inahled as though her were going to speak, his bottom lip hanging open in the slightest before engulfing you into a much needed hug. Squeezing your frame against his chest while he exhaled into the crook of your neck, opting for a soft and simple, "Thank you..." instead.

"It won't be all bad." You whispered against his temple, the boy eagerly perking up to hear your suggestions. You smiled when he did, the giddy expression on his face practically urging you to cup it in your hands (you did so without second thought).

"I'm here with you."

"My beautiful bodacious babe."

"Exactly." You giggled at his wording. "And I think we have enough candy regardless of how you wanted your pillow case filled up to the open seams."

"D'ya think I'd look better with dentures or silver teeth?"

"Harhar, you and your inevitable cavities are very funny."

He chuckled to himself in amusement.

"All I'm saying is, is that we can still have fun on our own."

With a genuine contemplation to your words and a wide glance around the downstairs area, he gave a decided nod before moving around the room, collecting as many pillows and blankets and other soft things into his arms as possible.

"You're right, actually. My room is never free, Billy is always in there. But since he's not right now, we can make the biggest fort to ever fort literally ever."

A snort left the back of your throat at his words, but a fort did sound nice. A little cozy area to spend your time together, eating away at your collected Halloween candy and other snacks. Maybe some music playing in the background or binge watching a TV show. Gossiping... sharing a few kisses... touches...

"That's the spirit." You encouraged, gathering some supplies yourself before following your boyfriend up the stairs.

And it wasn't long before talk of Freddy's dream fort had come to life, the whole room covered in blankets and oddly placed furniture to hold them up while the two of you carefully crawled inside.

"What're you doing?" You laughed unsurely, watching Freddy slap a random pillow as hard as he could before explaining himself.

"This bad boy can hold so many Freddy and (Y/N)'s."

You quirked a brow to keep yourself from chuckling even harder.

"Really, dude..."

"Well, I can't slap the top. It'll all crash down." Was his clarification. Not one suitable to your sarcasm, but one nonetheless. Plus, as usual, it was his quick wit that made you laugh adoringly, snuggling as close to him as possible in the dimmed darkness of the area.

"So, what now?" He asked, already sucking on a cherry flavored lollipop. "I challenge thee to spill your ideas of fun."

"Welll..." You trailed in a hard-to-miss, sultry tone, your finger running up and down his chest just the same.

"We're here together... all alone... in the dark..." You reiterated the obvious, pretending to think for a moment before letting out a long, theatrical sigh. "And you know, I've always loved your amazing kisses..."

You couldn't have been anymore patent if you tried, just barely ghosting your lips over his in hopes to taste the tiniest bit of cherry before his lips curled into a seemingly knowing grin.

"I think I know what you're gettin' at..." He teased back, leaving you eager and pleased to know Freddy had caught all of your perfectly dropped hints.

"Three words."

'We should makeout.'

"Horror movie marathon."

"...wha...?" Your brows knitted together instantly, his words not at all in tune with your (apparently wrong) predicted thoughts as you began to pout.

"I can't believe I didn't think about it before, I mean, it's literally Halloween. Oo...Halloween..."

He sat himself up and gingerly pulled his laptop closer, setting it on top of a pillow and queuing up some random website. Natrually, one where he'd pirate whatever movie and/or show that he wanted and was quick to find the entirety of the "Halloween" franchise.

"Or-or...!" He gushed further, already typing in another series into the search bar section. "If you're more of a paranormal chick, we could do "The Conjuring" universe. But then, like... there's also "Texas Chainsaw Massacre"- Nevermind, whatever, you should pick."

Upon promptly turning to face you, he was taken aback by your pushed out lip and inattentive gaze, (E/C) eyes focused on the blankets beneath you.

"Or maybe you're a "Get Out", "Antebellum", "Nope", type of girl..."

"Is none of them an option...?" He barely registered your downcast mumbles, bringing the laptop a tad bit closer so that he had a clear view of your face under the light before providing comforting (almost obnoxious) cooes.

"Why the pout~? Stop that. It's cute, but it's also-... staawwwp~...! What's the matter~...?"

You had trouble fabricating a proper answer. Regardless of the fact that some of your disappointment lied in the fact that Freddy hadn't caught onto your advances, admitting to him that you weren't the biggest fan of horror movies wasn't something you were too keen on doing either.

Sure, you enjoyed a zombie show or maybe some "Paranormal Activity" as much as the next person. But only during the day. You had sworn yourself off of anything scary during the nighttime because it was the obvious recipe for nightmares. And even then, you wouldn't be caught dead finishing "Signs" or literally anything found-footage troped without putting on cartoons immediately afterward in order to "flush out" the negative energy.

You were too jumpy for your own good, too swift to overthink and allow your brain to warp your surroundings. October 31st or not, horror movies four hours straight in the dead of night was a no-go.

"Why don't we just...watch "Ghostbusters" instead? The little tune is catchy!"

You even went as far as to sing it, making quiet little, "Do-dodo-do-do, do, doo!"'s to yourself with in-sync head bops to go with, Freddy giggling at your antics.

"You're so funny, (Y/N)-darling. See, this is why I married you." He hummed fondly, nonchalantly typing "The Nun" into the searchbar. It has seemed he had settled for "The Conjuring" universe, but for the moment, that wasn't your biggest focus.

"Married?" You questioned with a confused laugh of your own. "We're not married, you dork, what are you talking about?"

"We will be." He stated matter-of-factly, whipping his head around just to give you an intense and stoic stare that further tickled you.

"Ominous, but okay." You retorted happily, moving closer in hopes that he'd at least catch your signals for cuddles. Luckily, he did, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other across your shoulders as you swaddled yourself further into his embrace and a blanket. With your gazes fixated on the first movie, you knew it was time to accept your fate.

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

It wasn't long before you had made it to "Annabelle". So far, you had found yourself doing pretty well, not at all paranoid like you thought you'd be. Like you normally were. You chalked this up to more than likely being because of Freddy's presence, his lazy hold putting you at ease with a sloppy kiss pressed to your cheek or temple every so often. Or his words distracting you entirely, the boy rambling on about some weird factoid he knew or how he swore up and down that, "That one girl in "Annabelle: Creation" looks way too much like Mary."

The only thing that had scared you so far was the sudden jolt Freddy did at an unexpected jumpscare onscreen, your head perking up in confusion only to meet the embarrassed chuckle coming from the back of Freddy's throat.

"Did that really get you?" You asked with a laugh of your own, quickly understanding the reason for both his sudden movement and the way he could barely hold eye contact with you.

"Stop it..." He hummed, already anticipating your light teases. With you poking and at his chest and sides, you simply just couldn't help it.

"You're my boyfriend, Freddy, you're supposed to be the one protecting me!"

"I-!"

"Do you need me to hold your hand so you're not scared anymore~?"

"(Y/NNNN)...!" He elongated the last syllable of your name as if to sigh, but still couldn't cease the giggles that left him at your baby talk. "That's not funny, you're not funny, stop it."

When you continued to stare with a suspicious brow arched high, he huffed.

"Yeah-Okay, well, you know what? Don't think I don't see you gripping onto that pillow like your life depends on it."

And just like that, you were poker-faced. You didn't think he'd notice, really only ever squeezing the pillow when you anticipated the next scare. But it had eventually grown into a constant hold. One so tight that your knuckles had lifted a shade until you finally released in order to deliver a playful slap to his chest.

"Well, unlike you, this pillow is being much more comforting."

With that, you completely turned yourself away from the boy, hugging the pillow closer than you had ever been Freddy. Natrually, he scoffed, slack-jawed at such a claim coming from you.

"You are so dramatic." He sassed, returning the same playful slap you had given earlier to your thigh. "C'mere."

When all he received was a doe-eyed stare, he was quick to pull you back over himself, making it so that you had no choice but to straddle him to be comfortable. And finally, that's when he caught the hint. You weren't dropping any on purpose this time (ironically enough), but your lowered eyelids and fingers gently twirling around the hair at the nape of his neck was where and when it finally clicked.

"C'mere..." He teased one last time, pulling your lips towards his by the chin. You melted into his touch, his kiss, with ease. Though your words may have had a joking cadence earlier, you completely meant it when you said Freddy's kisses were amazing. His lips always seemed to be so soft, the boy never minding it anymore when your chapstick or lip gloss would get all over them. He simply left it, the taste he'd lick at later reminding him of yours.

With the movie still playing in the background, the dark ambience provided the perfect mood lighting for things to continue. Growing more heated, his kisses left your lips and began to trail along your jaw, your eyes fluttering shut as you hummed in satisfaction the lower he went. He nipped at your earlobe, causing you to giggle lightly as he whispered even more yet unexpected gratitude.

"Thank you..."

"For what?" You questioned, your voice light and airy and your brain foggy, swept away with love. Or maybe lust. A palpable mixture of the two while he answered fondly.

"For staying up with me tonight. For staying with me at all, ever."

"Always." You murmured, petting his curls while he pushed his face into the crook of your neck. It wasn't long before he was dusting light kisses anywhere his lips could touch, your eyes opening up just a bit to peer at the computer screen. The movie was still going (no reason for it not to be), and you could sense another scare was abound. But alas, you remained distracted yet again, Freddy's ghost kisses slowly morphing into that of actual ones. Which quickly escalated to playful nips and licks.

"Stop it, you're gonna leave a mark." You whined, pouting near his ear as he chuckled.

"That's the goal."

But he never actually completed it. Or, he might've...

You weren't exactly sure, his mouth having been latched to that sweet spot on your neck for quite some time now. Surely, a hickey had long been already placed there, but it was once you actually took notice of the slow rise and fall of his breathing, you realized he had fallen asleep.

Mid-hickey.

"Are you shitting me..." You huffed, your bitter words barely even a question realizing that you were now on your own for the next few movies that continued to autoplay. You didn't have the heart to stop them, knowing you'd wake Freddy, and he'd pitch a fit of some sort.

"Hey, why'd you turn it off? That was a good movie, you can't just cut it off in the middle like that!"

"No, stop it, I was watching that...!"

"(Y/N), we didn't even get to finish it! Why didn't you just wake me up?"

Yeah, yeah, whatever. All excuses you had heard a thousand times before, the boy never one to admit he's a deep sleeper. Plus, it'd further push the notion that you were indeed scared. Well, you weren't before, but the longer your gaze remained fixated on the plot and sound, the more your anxiousness grew. Your simple thoughts and wonders transpiring into more paranoia.

"Ahem..." and other miscellaneous coughing noises left your throat. It was a purposeful attempt to "accidentally" wake Freddy up. It was in hopes that you really, truly wouldn't have to suffer through this alone, as dramatic as that seemed. But the plot of the movie was thickening, and the scares were growing more intense. Almost hard to watch, and yet, you couldn't look away. Even when you really wanted to, those moments stifled by Freddy's slumped figure against you, holding you in place. Hell, you had practically buried yourself in the fluff of his curls as much as you could.

But it wasn't enough, and neither were your half-assed attempts to wake him through noise. So, your next best option was to fight to ignore the movie entirely. Completely tearing your eyes away from the screen, you scanned your surroundings for your phone.

You were lucky to see that you had placed it within reach, carefully going for it and turning down the brightness just enough so that you wouldn't go blind...

─────────────────────

Billygoat💀

Yo when are u coming home😃?

Why is something up?

No just curious

Oh

Idk, we'll be home when we get there, ig

─────────────────────

You huffed, rolling your eyes at the lackluster response. Didn't this boy understand that this was a matter of particular emergency?

─────────────────────

Billygoat💀

Gee, Billy. Thx for the insightful and helpful info

I'll be sure to consider that when I'm looking at the clock😐

😐

Did you want something or are you just distracting me from getting more candy rn, cuz...

I'm tryna get more than Eugene and I can't be texting you at every house

Fine k bye

Seen

─────────────────────

Well, that was a bust. If a conversation couldn't be had, your best bet was to rely on other social media. Although Instagram has been pretty dry lately, so it wasn't long before you had gotten bored of your feed and clicked the home button.

TikTok was always a good choice, though! You couldn't count how many times you had sat and scrolled on that app for... much longer than one should. But you quickly found it wasn't as entertaining when you couldn't even turn the volume up to hear anything.

Pinterest had become your last hope, saving a few pictures to your organized boards every so often as you scrolled through the different sections. But even that grew boring, and again, wasn't much help to keep you from listening to the horror going on in the movie. You didn't want to click your phone off, letting the darkness consume you once more. But to sit there with it on while not even using it seemed silly, so with reluctance, you clicked the side button and let it drop back to your side.

As much as you forced yourself to remember that it was all fake... just actors in costume and makeup; just musicians and soundboard creating the melodic effects; just CGI and scripts being read off of a paper... it didn't stop the feeling of being watched slowly crawling up your spine. Your arms littered with goosebumps, and- !!

You forced yourself to calm, even if it didn't work all that well. It was just the house settling. A sound easily mistakable for someone inside going bump in the night. But it was just you two. Just you, Freddy, and an old house. That's all.

And still, your eyes couldn't help but wander around anyway. The fort, every single blanket, pillow, and whatever else in its place casting odd looking shadows that seemed to warp and grow the longer you looked. And the worst of it all, the small entrance, a blanket for a door lazily draped over the opening that wasn't quite closed off. You could peer right through the tiny space, which granted you access to see right outside the open door into pitch-black nothingness.

'It's just the hallway.' You reminded yourself. 'You've been here hundreds of times; you know exactly what it looks like, (Y/N). There's just pictures and shelves, and the rug, and the doors to everyone else's rooms... it's just the hallway.'

You wished nothing more for than to be able to close that little bit of the blanket. But your jitters stopped you, barely even wanting to move, not that you really could with Freddy still holding you against him like you were a stress ball or a stuffed animal. A stress animal.

!!! "Fuck..." You whispered, this time having jumped at both a scare from the movie and the coincidential timing of Freddy's crutch tipping over on its own. Reasonably, it just fell over. Like any other crutch, it wasn't made to stand on its own and at one point or another, was going to lose its balance and drop from its leaned position on the side of Freddy's bunk bed.

But you were jumpy, adrenaline feuled, and oversuspicious. You were not thinking reasonably.

"Freddy, what was that..?!" You whisper-shouted, rapidly tapping at his shoulder until he stirred. Not fully awake, a staggered and voice-cracked, "Hmgh?" leaving him before he was already beginning to let sleep take him again.

"Dude, Freddy..." You trailed, tapping him some more which swiftly turned into gentle shakes. "Please wake up, I don't wanna be awake by myself."

"Then go t'sleep." He mumbled without second thought, barely conscious, which you couldn't really blame him for. But still, the fact that he didn't budge made you guilty. Waking him up over something that was probably nothing wasn't really fair. Not to mention, he was right, in a way.

"Move." You commanded, sinking yourself further so that you could lay against him rather than sit. With all of the previously mentioned factors in mind, maybe sleep was just what you needed.

You couldn't be scared if you weren't even conscious.

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

Your restlessness proved otherwise, twists and turns slowly shaking Freddy awake until he had enough. Gently holding you from being able to tossle about, his eyes gently peeled open just to squint harshly at the light of his still-running laptop. He couldn't gauge what movie was playing next, but a short and small whine pulled away his attention from the screen and onto you. He smiled softly to himself, grazing over every single feature he could make out on your face.

Your brows, which were kintted together in your sleep before dropping down to your eyelashes. He had to resist from curling over them with knuckle of his index finger, instead watching as your eyes seemed to move about under your closed lids. It made him wonder what you were seeing in your dreams, and why it caused you to pout your lips and wiggle about in what looked like distress.

"Hey..." Freddy hummed as softly as he could, brushing hair out of your face in hopes to coax you awake as gently as possible.

"(Y/N), wake up."

This continued for a couple of short minutes, him cooing your name and you seeming to both fight sleep and your dream at the same time. A battle you were loosing, which only caused you to huff and hum some more. It led the boy to believe that it couldn't have been a good dream you were having. A nightmare, even. And anyone with a working brain could only assume why.

"(Y/N), wake up. You're just having a nightmare, 'kay? I'm guessing sleeping with horror movies playing in the background has gotta be some sort of fucked up subliminal for your brain, huh?"

He was more or less talking to himself at this point, only growing fully serious when small tears managed to ease their way from your closed eyes and down your cheeks. Crying was the ultimate no-go for one Freddy Freeman, your tears damn near a trigger for him with the way he responded.

"Hey-hey-hey, no, don't cry. (Y/N), wake up, wake up..."

And with a couple more eager shakes, you jolted up, nearly hitting your head against the "roof" and taking the whole fort down with you before Freddy stopped you. Your breathing was shallow, shaky, as you struggled to take in your surroundings and collect any proper thoughts together.

"Oh my gosh..." You sighed, having hardly any remembrance of the actual nightmare. All you had left was the feeling it parted you with, your heart pounding out of your chest and jumping slightly once more when you felt a hand slip into your own.

"Are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"

"Oh..." Was all you could say, squeezing at his hand while attempting to form proper words. "I-... It... I'm sorry, I was just scared. I didn't mean to wake you. Well, I mean, I did try to earlier, but before I fell asleep. But-"

"(N/N)," He sighed, using a nickname in further attempts to bring you comfort. "You don't have to apologize, it's okay. Why didn't you just tell me you wanted to watch something else?"

"'Cause I just wanted to spend time with you." You admitted with ease. "Make you happy, y'know?"

"Wh- No, I am happy. I'm super happy, I'm always happy when I'm with you. Like you said when we first got home, it doesn't really matter what we do."

"Just as long as we're together." You finished, nodding to yourself.

"Exactly. But, minus the sappy shit... you were actually scared...?"

You narrowed your eyes at his snort, Freddy continuing on as if you wouldn't slap him at any given moment.

"I knew it, I knew it! Nobody who's normal death grips a pillow for no reason, you little liar~!"

"You were scared, too!!" You shouted a little louder than intended, shoving him lightly. "You jumped like ten feet in the air when we were watching "The Nun"."

"That's not fair. You know the religious horror stuff always gets me!" He laughed wildly, nudging you back as he went on. "Did you know that when they were filming, some of the cast members actually experienced real freaky-deaky shit?"

"No, but I do know that the girl from that movie is Vera Farmiga's sister." You stated matter-of-factly, Freddy's eyes going wide before turning to the screen. One of "The Conjuruing" movies, neither of you knew which, was playing and there the woman was, co-starring with Patrick Wilson.

"No way, oh my god...! I thought she looked familiar, but I didnt-! She has a sister?!"

You giggled at his passion, forgetting all about your worries and your scares while you two gossiped and ranted for as long as you could stay awake. Every fact branching off into more conversation until you two layer sprawled out in your fort, wrappers and bags everywhere while huddled in each other's arms. A perfect way to end the Halloween night, or any night, for that matter.

Bonus Ending (bc I like to spoil my readers🤭😼):

The light of the early morning sun blared through the window, neither of you two affected by its rays due to the comfort and darkness of your cave-like fort. A peaceful slumber had taken over the both of you, blissfully unaware of the chaos about to strike.

"Aah..."

"Whfmgh...! Wha'the fuck, dude...?!"

While your "scream" was barely that (more of a monotonous noise drenched in tiredness), Freddy was quick to react with slurred words to the sudden beams of light and wrecking of your guy's structure with wild movements. It was then replaced by a glare towards his brother, Billy staring down back at them with the same expression.

"I'm taking my blanket back. I was cold all night and could barely even make it to my bed because of... whatever this is, in my way."

"Bro, you just destroyed-!"

"-I don't care. Use your own shit next time."

You couldn't help but push your face further into the pillow. You tried your hardest to will yourself back to sleep, even if you were unable to help but smile at the amount of sass going on in the room. From two teenage boys, no less. But then again, what did you expect?

"Okay, so actually, you weren't even here when we used your stuff, so it was free game."

"What, am I supposed to call dibs on my own blanket, now?"

"What are you, five?" Was Freddy's quick-witted retort, pitching his voice up high to mimic that of a whiney baby. "Oh, woe is me, I'm Biwwy Batswon, and I can't sweep withouwt my bwankie, wah-wah-wah!"

The brunette's glare worsened, Freddy slightly feeling the pressure of this and going quiet for a mere, peaceful, four seconds while Billy spoke.

"...You're only acting like this 'cause she's here. And as soon as she's gone, I'm beating you with your own pillow."

You snorted, having yet to lift your face from the pillow nor choosing a side to the argument.

"Yeah, well, you wanna know who wasn't here? You! Or anyone else while I was stuck here! Lonely, all by myself with my girlfriend and way less candy than you, so you should consider yourself lucky that yo-"

"-Fine, you know what...?!" Billy interjected, moving across the room with an eerie silence that caused you to finally pop your head up and peer through your messy bed-head hair.

"Take it all, I don't give a shit...!!"

And with that, Billy practically launched his giant pillow case of candy in the direction of you two, suckers and gummies and whatever else flying everywhere while most others pelted the two of you like hail.

Natrually, you both screamed.

And, for legal purposes, it all ended in harmless laughter🫶🏽.

I miss Halloween, bruh, even tho the vibes have been kinda lackluster for it the past few years🥴.

~ Star✨️

Back to Master List

[navxry]

aster ehe

[ aster— do you have any 'fictional crushes' on any movie, tv show, or book characters? who and why? ]

well there's a lot.

like a lot lot.

but to give the general rundown of every crush I used to have AND still have to this day.

(warning: long ass post lmao)

dear God help me

I used to really like Jack but that's cause my sorry ass was cis and straight and I did not know what it felt to like other girls.

I grew out of it cause it was cringe and tbh he wont get along with me too much LMAOOOO

ANOTHER ONE I LIKE IS MINHO FROM THE MAZE RUNNER AND IT'S THE BOOK VERSION OF HIM- but the movie somewhat justified his sass like DAMN.

I also love Newt in the books, fucking cried when I red The Death Cure (I'm so sorry Newt) AND THE FUCKING ENDING I AM WEEPING AT THE TRILOGY.

Theresa was my then crush now :/ because the conclusion was. wack.

Okayokayokay so uh next lmao

on the topic of TMR, I red a lot of books when I was in my 7th to 9th grade years (mostly cause my old phones either broke or got taken away), and I actually liked a few people I red?

I love Poison from Chris Wooding, but it became less love and more "I like the character" (and also it got me into the matters of worldbuilding with fantasy so ty Chris Wooding)

The Selection by Kiera Cass was a book I CANNOT put down and I love the MC and the male lead. I forgot their names because its been years BUT I CRAVE TO READ IT AGAIN AND THE REST SOB SOB

Uhhhhh who else fuck uh, rattling my brain---

there was this one book that's like (I forgot the title name I apologize in advance) the house is abandoned and there's the typical girl that moves in from her apartment, and the plot is just. so wack? But the ending is that this one guy she's into is running some fucking cult and he's into this other girl but it is MESSY.

And the other guy which was the bad boy was tryna help but reminded me of Scara

my dumbass back then liked the guy that ran the cult. yeah, freaky.

mmmm which book uh, fuck-

OH THERE'S ONE BOOK I KINDA REMEMBER THE PLOT OF

its premise is so!! Interesting!! And basically the plot is just royalty but with magic, and the parents got killed one night. and then the MC and her brother ran away from royalty (so true), and in recent times, her and her bro tried to get away cause she found em, he dies, and she's out for blood.

I'm so sorry this plot is wack its been years bUT I LOVE IT AND OH MY GOD

HOLDING YOUR SHOULDERS RN

I LOVE THE MC

I am not joking the MC??? She's such a girlboss and my young self was SMITTEN. Fucking lesbian that's closeted smh smh

I swear I'm gonna write abt that plot one day in a series once I remember, trust me.

OKAY NEXT

uhhhhh tv shows

um shit

so I have a confession to make:

I have no idea who I liked back when I was so young and used to wach TV shows. like a normal kid.

BUT I used to like Boboiboy because an old friend from elementary had me hooked on the series…

… buuuuuut I fell out of it and honestly lost touch with her :( it was sad because she's the first person I can say I rlly enjoyed talking abt shit like this, but. yeah. still miss her tbh.

mmmmm I think that's it? I mean, if you want me to rant abt gaming fictional characters then I'll def rb this LMAO

but yeah, that's all the crushes I have lol

[rivangel]

Canal pt.4: Passion and Persistence

work summary » You think the greatest feat of your career is upon you when a mythical creature is stolen from the sea and thrust into your life—then, stubbornly, into your heart.

You both learn there is more to each other than circumstances, and appearances, let on—until an accident threatens to tear you apart. Soon, both of your fates depend on defending everything you’ve worked to build, or setting him free.

ch.summary: Erwin's intentions defy all expectations, which encourages you and Levi grow closer than ever. With just a few hiccups, the rest comes naturally.

Only, when said plan unravels before your and Levi's eyes, the foundations of your relationship are put into question. Levi's true feelings show themselves.

content/warnings: mer!Levi is so cute, unexpected allies, loss of virginity (kind of), imposter syndrome, minor descriptions of blood, misunderstandings, NDE, masturbation, praise, dirty talk, rivals, descriptions of a panic attack, learning to trust, (over)protective Levi

wc: 14.0k

a/n: i did my best in researching for this ch... i know it's long... i also realized some parts feel rushed but this story was supposed to be SHORT......have mercy🥺

anyway until next month time!

previous part・work masterpost・last part

taglist: @ackermandick | @audreys-works | @ackermandick | @sckerman | @katty | @jayteacups | @notgoodforlife | @chaotic-nick | @b-o-n-e-daddy | @levisbrat25 | @1-800-mocha | @oh-my-bakura-akefia | @happybird16 | @s0levis | @Rogue_variant | @sparkywrites25 | + link to sign up

You paced around the private bathroom—because of course a restaurant on a boat had private bathrooms—in a carefully concealed panic.

“So, just to be sure, you saw absolutely nothing.”

“Yeah, that’s what it’ll seem like,” Eren replied.

God, you could slam your head against a wall.

This morning, you had called Eren in a panic about the cameras, being so distracted by Levi that they had never crossed your mind. That wasn’t like you, but then again, Levi made you feel and do many things “unlike” you.

“The tapes were erased,” you stated, expecting an affirmative.

“I never saw them.”

“‘I never saw them’ as in you erased them, or you don’t know where they are?”

Eren said your name through a heap of laughter. “They’re gone. Dead. Thrown out into outer space. Is that what you wanna hear?—Look, I had no interest in… you know, so.”

“...What about Mikasa.”

He coughed. “She’s getting ideas; nothing to do with you. Look, I have to go, but good luck and everything.

“You don’t have to give me more weed—”

“Eren you can’t just say that—”

“—but if you do, cool. Talk to ya later.”

You took a good, many moments to calm down, including splashing water on your face and pacing in a few circles for a while. Eren was a good person, but younger than you, different, and thus: frustrating.

But, he was a good person.

Tonight was the night you and Hange were to confront Erwin on your entire scheme, and to be fair, it didn’t look like it would be a longshot: Levi had recovered healthwise completely, and Hange in their reports went on about how great he was behaving and how much progress had been achieved.

(This was not true based on what Levi said, but they improvised at the best of times, and what was one white lie? ...A lot in your opinion, but the point still stood.)

All your nerve silently shriveled up and died however as you stepped out of the bathroom and spotted Erwin and Hange conversing at your table. 

Were they… getting ready to leave? Whenever you went to the bathroom, Erwin hadn’t even arrived!

‘Um’ was the first “word” out of your mouth as soon as you approached. Hange was apologizing to the waitress. 

“Erwin?”

He said your name in return, answering nothing for you.

“We’ll take my car!” Hange burst, the waitress scurrying her way back to the kitchen. They looked more frantic than even Hange ever was, which set off alarm bells in your head.

“We should carpool,” Erwin replied, and didn’t wait up.

What’s going on? you mouthed to Hange.

They took your arm, mildly jolting you like a shock of electricity from the sudden contact. 

They paid no mind as your feet launched into motion. “You were taking ages in there, and I mentioned Levi once, and all the sudden—”

Your eyes widened.

“—Erwin said he already had ‘plans’ in mind that he needs your permission to conduct, and I’m a marine scientist, not a rocket one, and I think he wants to get rid of Levi.”

You shook your head all the way down the short wooden steps on the dock, reeling to catch up. Warm sea air hit you in the face.

All this, and your stomach decided to growl in-between that tiny moment after you had settled in Hange’s car and before they cranked the engine.

“Why do you think he wants to get rid of Levi, again?” you asked, before they could laugh.

Hange turned the wheel, their head craning in search of Erwin’s SUV. “Because, Erwin’s even smarter than you give him credit for, and he wouldn’t be in such a panic by one word about Levi. He must’ve figured out why we were there, and came up with a contingency plan.

“And so, we’re hurrying,” they sighed lightly. “We all know how you are about Levi, too.”

“How I am,” you sounded out. You decided to ignore that.

For Erwin, you would have called this a panic for sure. If he was anything, it was calm and confident, and to rush out of dinner like that with a sudden plan to meet inside the canal on a Saturday evening?

This couldn’t be good.

The drive was arduous and endless. You could have mistaken yourself for the main character on an episode of The Twilight Zone for how unreal the passing scenery and the hum of Hange’s engine seemed to be, droning on and on, forever.

Your mind was busy with scenarios.

‘Getting rid of Levi’ could lead to a few things, but each path led to an iron fist; say, the government for dissection, weapons’ testing, crap—maybe a museum, even though that didn’t match Erwin’s grandiose style.

You tailed Erwin all the way there, and with the rank he had, he requested access to the front gates with ease. The same could be said of the canal by the time you and Hange had, somewhat begrudgingly, caught up to him.

Your heart was beating like a racehorse in your chest to match your hurried pace, because for all your fear, you weren’t one to back down from much of anything. 

All you could think of, in that winding trail through the dark canal, was Levi. The dim light made it easy to picture his visage in your head, or to recall the time he escaped, right in your steps. It made you yearn, oddly, for simpler times.

Erwin brushed the flaps of the canal aside without bothering with safety equipment, you noticed. Nothing hands-on would be happening tonight; nothing… drastic.

“This is far enough.” Erwin abruptly turned, and without skipping a beat, “You two..." He sighed. "I deceived you, just as you deceived me.”

You all stood before the canal, where, many halls away, Levi was either asleep (if he did sleep), or awake, you imagined mourning Isabel and Farlan still.

Your face turned hot. “Yes, well—”

“What do you mean?” Hange squeaked.

Erwin’s lips pressed, solemn. “That restaurant was no place to be discreet.” He seemed to wrestle with a choice. “We’re not seeing Levi. Come with me.”

In tune with your better judgment, you did, and filed into the elevator that climbed up to Erwin’s office. He let you all in, but no one sat. He kneeled behind his desk, and began to pull out files—all on Levi, you guessed. Drawers whined.

Erwin then stood, and said your name. “You were correct, as usual. Your… passion made my plans difficult to carry out, and I worried your persistence would as well. For all our sakes, be glad it didn’t.”

You worried your fingers together and waited, as usual, for Erwin to get to the point. Levi would have hated to have a conversation with him.

“Passion and persistence.” Hange blew a raspberry and finally plopped down in one of Erwin’s leather armchairs. “So what? What do you want, Erwin, uh, sir? Get to the juicy part!”

Erwin’s eyes flashed. “I want the same thing you two do. For Levi, the mer, to be elsewhere. Out of captivity.”

Erwin slid the files towards you. They were reports and email exchanges between him and—

Oh.

“Tell Hange what I’m reading, sir,” you requested, brows knit with focus as you pulled Erwin’s notes apart. By all accounts, his actions had strictly opposed freeing Levi.

“Marie,” Erwin answered, as if that explained it all. It was a name he seemed reluctant to say.

It did, to anyone familiar with Erwin’s wife. Between like-minded people like you, Erwin and Hange, she was a household name for her work in endangered animal preservation and recapture, usually from testing facilities or other companies which could have been dubbed… inhumane.

“Your—” Hange stopped themself. “I see.”

As good enough terms as they were on, Erwin and Marie were not together anymore. The refuge she owned and operated was located in a completely different country, bordering a completely different sea from your own.

This changed things.

“While she and I spoke, and I contracted some… necessary jobs, such as shipment, I needed discreteness. As few minds as possible should’ve been around Levi, who knew as little as possible.”

“Ouch,” Hange retorted.

Erwin smiled ruefully. “My apologies. I don’t mean anything by it, Doctor.”

They waved their hand, rolling their eyes. “Give me a heart attack, why don’t ya.”

“And of course,” Erwin looked at you, “your passion made this operation difficult. You must understand—”

“I do understand,” you cut in without looking at him, and you did. “You had no way to know my intentions, and whether they were true or not. 

“Well, they should be obvious now. What do we do next, Director?”

Erwin smiled like a schoolboy.

By all accounts, the complete unexpected was happening. You began to conduct a plan.

You ignored fleeting looks from your subordinates as they passed out of Sector 3, having been given their new assignments this morning.

Considering your reputation, you doubted it had been surprising news, but after the “incident” (so it was called) between you and Levi and your near-drowning, exaggerations stretched the story and lies festered. 

It wasn’t a popular choice to issue dismissals from Levi’s case, ironically in the opinion of everyone except those who worked with him firsthand, and thus knew how crass he was.

Either way, a non-disclosure agreement prevented them all, by law, from saying anything.

“You’re still working at a time like this?” you asked Erwin, smirking a little. He stood by the wall, seemingly sketching something in long strokes.

He smirked, too.

Seeing how he had never met Levi in person, you figured he would be in a bigger rush. He was as curious as Hange at heart, if not more, but then again, he wouldn’t be seeing him for long. 

You wondered if it was jealousy, Erwin being everything an explorer was, but doing none of the things an explorer did. That would have been a sad role, but for his actions you were thankful.

“You know me,” he chuckled lightly. “Always up to something, hm?”

A shriek echoes from down the hall. You looked around, and you hadn’t noticed, but Hange had disappeared. Erwin looked up as well, the frown evident on his face.

It sounded like one of their happy shrieks, so you jogged faster in the direction it came from, your lanyard bouncing around your neck as you went.

“He spoke to me! He spoke to me!” they yelled as soon as you appeared in the doorway, all to the sight of Levi sat up in that awful tank, ears flared and killing Hange with his glare.

Nothing seemed amiss enough to piss Levi off, but you knew how Hange’s… Hange-ness made him feel.

After his glare darted over to you, it eased a little, but didn’t subside. Things being the way they were, it was impossible for Levi to get in the know with anything as soon as it happened, and that was especially true now.

“What did you say…?” you asked Levi as you wandered over to the specially-designed stretcher which had evidently been shoved aside, and fixed it. Its metal rungs and wheels weren’t unlike the ones for people, except it was much bigger, and dipped in a bowl shape.

(Hange’s design. Orcas and similar whales were always transported using crates, and you planned to run Levi just a couple minutes through hallways. You refused to let him drag himself along before he was even given a choice in the whole matter.)

“Told ‘em to quit touching me with their disgusting hands,” Levi snipped under his breath. He eyed the “bowl” with much reluctance.

Hange pouted, and raised their arms. “I’m wearing gloves.”

“Gloves tainted by disgusting hands.”

“Alright.” You snickered despite yourself. They got along, kind of. “Levi, you’re going to meet Erwin today.”

“The one that bosses you around.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong, but you didn’t like the growing look of disdain spreading across his pretty features.

His nose scrunched. “What’ve you got to be nervous of?”

Hange ushered Erwin inside. “His sense of smell! I forgot. Quick, Levi, what does Director Erwin smell like?”

Levi’s head turned sharply towards the burly man in the doorway, who stood as straight and knowing as a flying arrow.

Levi frowned. “...Can’t tell.”

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head. “You can’t tell?” 

So much for Mike calling you out for being Erwin’s “copycat” whenever you were in the same room together. Were you that obvious, or Erwin that surreptitious?

Erwin introduced himself with a cordial nod and held his hand out for Levi to shake. Curiosity shone in his blue eyes. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Levi’s eyes reeked with suspicion toward the hand. He grasped it, but slid away before Erwin could grip it.

You got a sense of deja vu, thinking back on the time Levi snatched your wrist and made a decision about your character based on the touch of your hand alone.

“You have soft hands for someone in such high rank,” Levi said.

As usual, it was an odd time for Erwin to smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Levi narrowed his eyes. “It’s your funeral.”

“Jeez,” Hange laughed. “Alright, enough animosity, let’s get going. Levi, play nice, and you—” Hange pointed in your direction, “—if he doesn’t, make him, please.”

Levi and you matched the same gawking expressions (if his being a little more reserved).

“You aren’t serious—”

“I’m not gonna make him do anything.”

“Enough,” Erwin stated calmly, louder over your both. “Let’s go. Levi, you’re going to stay somewhere else from now on.”

Then Erwin glanced at you. “I assume he’ll go willingly?”

Your brows knit. You didn't like this new-found animosity Levi had sparked between them, one you weren't sure why even existed.

“Of course, sir.”

Levi didn’t seem to trust any of this, but with a reassuring smile from you, he obediently, almost eagerly, shuffled from the tank and neatly slid into the round stretcher. A shallow layer of water would keep him from drying out, and any accidental splashing.

“It’s going to be bigger,” you told him, before Levi had to ask. “Lots of water, and more heat so it’s like being outside.”

Hange joined in. “It’s going to be great.”

Levi didn’t look pleased exactly; he was still eyeing Erwin with some suspicion. Had he somehow sensed Erwin’s deceit from before? The satchel around your middle, the objects inside, weighed heavily.

Still, he didn’t complain beyond Hange’s sloppy pushing as the stretcher rolled into the bright hallway, joined by you. Erwin went first.

“You don’t have to…” Levi stalled. “Tell me more about this place.”

He wasn’t talking to Hange, but they spoke anyway. “I’d love to! Our good doctor once had quite the fascination with albinos! Manatees, seals, sharks, you name it!”

You blanched.

Levi looked at you blandly. “Sharks, huh?”

“A side-project,” you argued, more to Hange than Levi. A sweat had broken out on your brow for all your hard work. “And those animals don’t have long lifespans; they can’t blend in with the rest of their species, so they’re often isolated, and much more vulnerable to predators. Even sharks.”

Before you could observe the growing sullen look on Levi’s face for what it was, Erwin cut in, “Preserving their lives is important for the sake of knowledge, but at the cost of their well-being. If we can learn…”

You were dragged into your head again by Levi, who wasn’t paying attention to Erwin’s noble speech, but neither was he looking at you. Arms crossed, his fingers smoothed over the bend of his tail, thinking something over.

“Tell me what all this is about already,” Levi demanded. “I don’t have much choice in it, right?”

“Not exactly true,” you disagreed.

Levi’s head tilted as Hange gave him a cheshire grin. “Just wait.”

—

This exhibit of yours was not unlike penguin and seal exhibits at some aquariums, but yours was a mirror image of a sandbar belonging to any unnoteworthy cove. Warm, salty water was contained by glass panes taking up the majority of the area in an L shape. 

It was nowhere near the size of the wavepool, but it spared plenty of space for sea mammals around Levi’s size; an olympic swimming pool, you would estimate. In order to reach it, you would ascend the platform via a short set of stairs.

The walls were standard for the complex, but areas of water stretched deeply and sloped up to “sandbars” with artificial sand. Ponds dipped into the area here and there, but Levi had the most room to swim here.

He immediately crawled to the end of the “bowl”, sloshing water as the glass doors separated, and you entered. His throat made a shrill chirping noise, causing the one out of two flabby albino seals to bark at him.

In lieu of having any real place to transfer them that would support their needed habitat exactly, and there being a total of four here—two seals, and two manatees—you made a decision.

“Does the company bother you?” Erwin asked Levi, brushing by the two of you and shuttering a switch that would power up the heating lights overhead.

“No,” Levi said. Though it was only a bland quip with his back turned away from you, you noticed his tail waving slightly and bit on a smile. 

Hange pushed off of the cart and stretched their arms behind their head. “Hot damn, you’re really heavy, Grumpy, you know that?”

Surprisingly, Levi didn’t entertain the jab. He only scoffed in the water's direction before pushing himself up and cocking his head over his shoulder at you, waiting for your word.

After rounding the “bowl”, you gestured to the glass wall before him, as thick as a cinderblock. The top was level with the top of his head. “Hop up here for me.” 

Levi ducked away from your eyes and shifted around, lifting his backside up on the glass. Even though he would be scandalized to accept any help, you kept your hands outstretched a tad just in case.

One hand fell into the water and waved around. His nose scrunched before he chirped, you thought in approval.

Your brow quirked. “Is it to your standards?”

“Repeat.”

“Is it good?”

Levi hummed.

His wet tail flopped as he maneuvered over the edge. The water tore apart as Levi dunked in, shaking his hair out and then, naturally, abandoning you all to explore his new (temporary) surroundings.

Glancing back towards Hange, they were practically swooning. Once they caught your eye, their hand slammed down on their chest, dramatically professing, “O, be still my beating heart! How could I ever compete?”

And then, again serious, they turned to Erwin. “Kicking them off Levi’s study was the only wrong decision you’ve ever made, hope you know. Sir.”

Erwin frowned. “As I said, it was for a good cause.”

“Have you ever heard a joke before?”

Erwin deadpanned.

You snorted at them both and walked around to the steps that led to the platform, followed by a small gate. 

Hange followed, while Erwin idled around the glass edge. He was so tall that he could comfortably rest his arms and watch from afar. He reminded you of a movie director.

The floor was made of poorly-concealed planks that functioned more like metal. It groaned under your feet as you propped an observation chair near the edge. Hange was retrieving a bucket of fish for the manatees.

At your arrival, one with patches of grey over blinding white blubber idled along the surface.

It randomly occurred to you that it would be fun to tell Levi that story about early accounts of mermaids by English settlers: they had mistaken manatees for mers. His reaction would be cute.

Levi glided seamlessly through the water, as if he was made of water itself, before surfacing. You were almost disappointed to see it happen.

Levi blinked. “So.”

“Not all is as it seems,” Erwin begins, startling the rest of you. “Levi, there are alternative plans for you that I have kept hidden up to this point. The question is what you’ll choose.”

You cut in, “Director—”

“What’s he speaking of?” Levi snipped. “Can’t you say it to make sense?”

The manatee rolled over in the water as a fish snack pelted the water, disrupting the whole argument.

Erwin didn’t look discouraged, but conflicted, surely.

“I’ll explain,” you said evenly.

Levi seemed to fully understand the ramifications of what the government keeping him would mean; his jaw tightened with a frown, and then, as you launched into an explanation of Erwin’s idea, it deepened.

“Preserve.”

“Like a shelter,” Hange chirped from beside you, cross-legged on the sandy floor. 

From one of the many lapels on their coat, they swiped a baggy of dried seaweed, and handed it to you. You nodded your thanks.

“Yes. My wife, Marie, she takes care of it,” Erwin joined in. He rubbed his chin in thought. “You would be treated well there, Levi.”

He would have, you had no doubt. The caveat wasn’t even that he wouldn’t see the deep blue ocean again—a portion of the coast was fenced and reserved by Marie—and it was guaranteed that he would have no worries for the rest of his days.

And, he wouldn’t be alone.

Levi eyed the seaweed, but was motionless otherwise. “Where is this?”

Your lips pressed. “On the other side of the sea.”

Now he quieted. As it persisted, other than the whir of the water and Hange’s slippery rummaging with the fish, you plucked a piece of seaweed from the baggy and held it out in front of you.

You were hard-pressed to make your opinion known to Levi, let alone the entire room. If you had had things your way, nothing would change except for this conflict to resolve, to be erased, somehow.

The caveat was you would never see Levi again. For very good reason, Marie's preserve didn't allow visitors; those rules especially wouldn't change due to what Levi was.

Levi waited on you, though, without reaching out for the treat. You leaned down, but he pushed away, and on the other side of the stream, pushed his backside up and onto it.

He brushed his wet bangs off his forehead. “A cage for a cage, is that it? And through life-ruining efforts.”

Erwin looked indignant. “I would not risk such a thing if I had no confidence we would succeed.”

Levi’s knuckles curled over the pool’s edge as Hange remarked upon the reason you vanished for some time; because of Erwin. Levi’s sharp eyes shot to the man in question.

“Levi—”

“You shitty bastard,” Levi seethed.

“Levi,” you tried again, “it’s okay now; it was all for a good reason. We’re all here now, aren’t we?”

Even Hange seemed put-off by Levi’s behavior. You too remembered how much you had agonized when you thought you would be separated from Levi for good, but you understood what good it did in the end; Erwin couldn’t have been caught.

But Levi either didn’t understand, or didn’t care.

Levi glared at Erwin and said your name pointedly, like a blow. “You won’t deceive them again. While you got the rest of us racing in circles, you’re going through the trouble just for a prison. And trouble for you. You seem more obsessed with your work than them.” Levi nodded towards the frown on your face. 

“No. Forget that plan,” Levi went on, glancing at you demurely. “I would rather something else was done.”

“...I see.”

You swallowed. “What do you think, then, exactly?”

“Who knows,” Levi replied, a little too quickly. He finicked with his fingers just slightly, a tell that he was nervous. “Maybe I could think with some fucking privacy.”

Hange hummed, slow and thoughtful, then launched to their feet just as one of the albino seals dove into the water. “Request granted.” They beckoned you and Erwin towards the doors.

Erwin had officially checked out of the larger conversation some time ago, but he nodded now as if he had always been listening. “I understand, but don’t waste time; there isn’t much of it to spare.”

“Got it.”

Officially sullen, you rose to your feet, only for Levi to hiss softly and gesture with his head. Down.

“I’ll stay a little longer,” you told Hange, voice as light as air. You were pleased Levi trusted you so, but you were hard-pressed to admit what you wanted before he could give you an idea of his own.

Smiling, Hange clapped you on the back. The baggy was also shoved to your chest. “Get ‘em, tiger.”

Levi made a face.

Hange hopped down and thrust the cart in the direction of the double doors, and once the doors beeped brightly, you were well and truly left alone.

Levi clicked his tongue. “Come here.”

You plopped down cross-legged on the edge. “I’m wearing dry clothes. You come here, hm?”

His brow puckered at the request, followed by the swooshing of the water as he dropped into it, and appeared again on your side. Water in streams washed down his scaly cheeks.

You found it in yourself to smile, and slid the seaweed over, but your real focus was on taking his jaw, feathering your thumb across his cheek.

A hand plopped down on yours, neglecting the snack and making your heart jump. He leaned into the touch.

His eyes searched yours avidly. “What do you want?”

Sighing softly, you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. 

He pushed up in a quick response, as if he was waiting for permission. As a hand slid over your nape, the other that was just holding yours squeezed your knee.

He massaged his lips with yours, making your breath to shake. Your head tilted, deepening the warm exchange.

You, you wanted to say. I want you.

As his tongue slid over your warm lips, you all but keeled over to indulge. Heat licked your bottom half at the same time he licked into your mouth, and the inside of your cheek. Your tongues mingled.

Both his hands were on your legs, you fleetingly noticed. But you bypassed his tail entirely and pawed for his bicep. You bit back a shiver.

“Levi, I,” you murmur into his lips. “I want—” you. “I wanna talk about this.”

He turned a bit timid again, his hands sliding away. 

“I don’t want a whole other shitty cage,” he rasped, and plucked up the seaweed, but with it a shiny silver coin that hadn’t been laying there before. 

This, he nudged in your direction, absentmindedly scratching the surface of it.

Your brows raised. “For me?”

“Who else around here?” he retorted, sour. “The seal?”

Neither albino seal was anywhere near him; they slept on rocks. Cheeks warm, you picked it up: a dime, and in pristine condition. 

You frowned as you got to wondering how it could’ve possibly got here.

He finished dousing the seaweed in water, but stopped with it raised to his chin. He looked… frustrated.

“It’s not the gift—it’s sweet, thank you.” You wetted your lips. “I just don’t know how it got here. I always keep everything clean.”

He blinked. “Of course. I took it.”

“From me?”

“From Glasses. Don’t get pissed,” he said quickly. “There’s nothing else to give, anywhere.”

You shook your head, dazed. He wanted to give you a gift that badly?

You didn’t condone him stealing, but would you give this back to Hange? No. Would you shove it in your coin purse?—Of course not. It was from Levi.

As a sign of good faith, you kissed your forefinger and pressed it to the coin’s surface. Levi looked pleased with himself, maybe even smiling a tiny bit.

“...I don’t want another cage for you, either,” you admitted. “It would be… better, but everything has pros and cons, right?”

He swallowed a piece of the green seaweed. “Some outweigh others.”

“It’s the ocean, isn’t it?” You asked this before he could scarcely finish speaking. “Wouldn’t you be more… at risk by yourself?—Like you said.”

He scoffed.

You gathered your nerve. “I don’t want you to be backed into a corner with this. Neither option is perfect, everyone is at risk—”

“One option is much more better than the other."

You stopped.

"I would rather not be across the world, away from someone as clingy as you. You might fall apart.”

You scoff, aghast. “Might I?”

“...You might. As I said, you’re soft.”

You laughed. It was easy, then, to reject Erwin’s plan, because the truth was, he wasn’t wrong about you… and it was clear he would be unhappy, too.

Levi’s gift reminded you. You tugged your satchel around your middle and dug inside of it. “I have a way for us to communicate more often—if that’s something you’re interested in.”

He was thoroughly done with the seaweed now, and dunked his head underwater by pushing the edge, swished a little, then pushed himself up and onto the edge, gills flexing.

Even though your clothes would get speckled with water, you found yourself scooting nearer without realizing. 

Then you plucked the device out. The walkie-talkie (A two-way radio, you went on to explain, whose name Levi didn’t snort at this time) was deeply black with a speaker and a red button that would allow its user to speak into it for the other person to hear, and reply back.

Levi cocked his head and reached.

You yanked your hand away, chuckling nervously. “This can’t get wet. I’m leaving you some towels for this reason.”

His lips parted in understanding, but in lieu of having any towels around right this instant, you rubbed his wet palm on your leg before setting it in his hand. Levi’s cheeks were pink the next time you looked.

“You got wet anyway,” he told you frankly. Things were suddenly unbearably awkward. 

You shook your head. “...You’re welcome anyway.”

Levi examined his gift more closely. “Thanks. But what use is this junk to me?” he questioned. “You need another, right?”

You replied, “Yeah, and I do,” before pulling yours out. Tugging the antenna on the top caused static to crackle through the speaker, which also caused Levi’s eye to twitch.

After showing him how to do what you just did (in lieu of any thorough explanation about radio waves; not your expertise), you said into it, smiling, “Hi, Grumpy. Over.”

A reaction he couldn’t help: Levi’s eyes blew wide with wonder, having heard your voice two ways. He held it up to his lips, forefinger on the button. “Why are you over?”

You snorted. You couldn’t help it. “Why am I what?—Over.”

He glared at you over the radio. “Why are you over?”

“That’s what you say after finishing a transmission. A message. Roger?”

His brow puckered. “Repeat.”

“Roger. Over.”

His angular ears twitched as he set his down rather calmly, before tearing yours out of your hand and surging forward for a kiss deep enough to drown in. You imagined those romantic Hallmark movies where the man swept the woman off her feet, and tilted her backwards into the kiss.

You gasped into his mouth, soft like velvet.

It was just heating up when he pulled back. “No more talking your shit,” he snipped, lips searing against your jaw. He licked a long line.

“I—” Your arms tightened around him despite what you were about to say. “I-I have to go.”

The shift of mood was palpable. He pulled away, but tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

You considered telling him the truth, but your tongue felt like a chunk of cement in your mouth all the sudden.

Dinner with Hange was the excuse you used. It was Friday, and Levi knew about that little ritual, but it was nowhere near that time.

You felt horrible for lying.

Thirty minutes later, you were clambering into your car when, from your satchel, came a gruff stacky sound, followed by muffled speech.

You yanked the radio from its depths and spoke Levi’s name into it. “Yes? What’s wrong?—Over.”

You were greeted by abrupt silence for the next couple of moments.

“Wanted to make sure this thing wasn’t bullshit.”

You bit down a smile as you turned your jangly keys into the ignition. “Is that all? Over.”

“I’m not gonna talk to you when saying that dumb word. It makes no sense.”

As the air conditioner gusted against your face, you kept silent on purpose. The point of it was to know when the other person was finished talking; of course it was repetitive.

When Levi said your name next, he sounded antsy.

“Yes?” you replied. “Over.”

“...What're you doing?”

“Just teasing you,” you replied, leaning against the center console. 

If Levi wanted your attention, he was going to get it. Maybe talking to each other like this was some novelty that would wear itself out, but right now, it sure didn’t feel like it.

Some static crackled the radio when he sighed. “No. I mean what’re you doing?”

Your brows shot up. Just when your lips parted to reply—

“Ridiculous. Nevermind.”

“No, wait!” you exclaimed, but the static abruptly cut off, severing the connection. If he closed the antenna, he wouldn’t be able to hear you.

You let the radio drop to your lap, frowning. 

He… wanted to know what I was doing?

It had only been thirty minutes since you left, so you struggled to come up with any reason why he wanted to know. Maybe he was bored.

Your purse slumped onto your coffee table the next time you fished the radio out. The only thing on TV you were vaguely interested in right now was the news, and you were on it for your actions, plus a “secret project”. As such, your phone was off.

As you pulled up the antenna and found the frequency, you absentmindedly started up your coffee maker. All it took was muscle memory.

Surprisingly, you were met with static. He must not have left the antenna shut long.

“Hi,” you spoke, a little lamely. “Um, I’m making coffee—you wanted to know what I was doing, right? I just got home.”

You didn’t really expect him to reply. With the radio set aside on the counter, you poured in some rich beans and let the machine do the rest; no boiling water required. 

(God bless modern technology.)

Then, the walkie briefly spilled static. Levi’s voice was surprisingly low, even reverent. Maybe sad. “What’s home look like?”

The steamy smell of roasted coffee drifted away as you plucked the radio up. A warm, but heavy feeling spread over your chest.

“Let me tell you about it.”

You and Levi spoke on the “phone” throughout the week just as much as you did on the weekend when you didn’t come in to work.

Most times, you were the one talking, explaining to him things he wanted to know. Usually this turned into long, intricate conversations about the mechanisms of things like a washing machine, but also world history. Politics, even.

“Why can’t any of you people be decent to each other?” he had retorted, evidently while munching on something. “Do what you like without all the rape, deceiving, and killing.”

As far as those conversations went, he came to accept that you didn’t have a helpful answer. No one really did, as far as you were concerned.

You also discovered that no matter how well Levi liked someone, he was very hesitant to talk about himself as it had to do with… anything. Unfortunately, you weren’t too different from him, and you two could only deflect off each other for so long. 

“Stupid soft talking” was reserved for late nights, you under your blankets and eyes closed, him slumped in the shallow shore of some artificial rocks. As you expected, he was careful about not drowning his walkie-talkie. 

It was convenient, because as final as that discussion with Erwin and Hange was, you had ceased to speak about it while smaller details were ironed out, like ordering the proper equipment and getting a groundwork of the pipe network underneath the facility. 

As the canal could be sealed and flooded, escaping through the piping system was the most practical method to escape. You tried to be willing, but it was a work in progress. You didn’t discuss it with Levi much.

The scary, movie-like… illegal activity had entered a sort of lull. You dared to call it normal.

Tonight, even with your AC cranked up and two fans whirring on in your bedroom, the air remained muggy and thick while a thunderstorm came down outside. It did no favors for your damp hair, but being dressed down to an old tee and just shorts helped.

“Did you have a bucket of coffee before bed?” Levi was asking down the other line, making you snort. “I hear you squirming.”

“I’m surprised you can hear anything over my fans.”

“Answer.”

“It’s dumb.”

He snuffled. “Answer now.”

It really was dumb, though. After slaving away in the tub to shave your legs, the skin was left smooth and soft, so rubbing them together was… satisfying.

Levi was just plain fascinated. “Like rubbing your arms together? Or what?” Water swished in the background. “Does it feel that good?”

“I mean—” you laughed softly, “—I don’t think you’re missing out on much, besides… walking.” You sucked in a gasp. “Did you know that the most painful bone to break in the human body is the femur?”

“...If you’re trying to convince me to envy you, it isn’t working.”

Just from his voice, you knew he was smirking.

You curled up in your thin sheet. “Yes, it feels good.”

But then the silence makes you rephrase your answer. “Not in that way; satisfying.”

“In what way?”

You turned hot. At least he couldn’t see (or smell) you getting flustered. “Um.”

“Look, I’m not an idiot,” he scoffed. “It’s less fun to tease you because you’re so oblivious…”

His voice grew a little low “But I don’t see how you could avoid it, rubbing between your thighs. That must feel better, doesn’t it?”

You found yourself squirming despite your heart, which had jumped to your throat. Of course, it felt good.

“Oh?” You were surprised by how breathy your voice sounded. “That makes you so deprived.”

He huffed softly. “Does not.”

You bit down on your lip so hard it pinched before responding, “...Prove it.”

To some extent, admittedly, you did know. It was impossible not to, given the purely scientific x-rays and scans on Levi’s part, but that was it. He was so different, too, in that way especially.

But naturally, the reasons for your curiosity this time were completely selfish.

“I—” Levi faltered. “Fine.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“And why do you think I did, sweetheart?” he retorted, but with no attitude whatsoever. His voice teetered on the edge of a whisper, growing raspier.

“S-Sweetheart?”

“You’re sweet.”

Could you argue with that? You swallowed, your heart beginning to pound—not only in your ears, but between your thighs as well. “...No reason?”

“Do I ever do anything for no reason?”

No. Heat in your lower half bloomed and twisted, and you yearned, then, to see him. The next best thing was to listen, but all you had were his soft breaths.

“Tell me how you do it, sweetheart,” you encouraged.

A heavy huff. “I’m not—Th-That’s embarrassing.”

“Tell me.” You copied him from earlier. “Now.”

“You should be able to experience for yourself,” he retorted, immediately followed by, “There’s a slit, in the middle. To coax it out, you have to touch me.”

“Touch you?” Your eyes shut. “Where?”

“My chest, my hips,” he whispered back. “Like you’d get wet, I’d get hard.”

You swallowed a whimper as your palm crept down to your breast, trying desperately to imagine his soft pecs, and his pink nipples which you always saw, growing red and raw from pinching, rubbing, licking. A sweat broke out on your forehead.

His cock sliding out from his slit, swollen. It slapping against his pelvis and making a mess, oozing his cum. It throbbing on your tongue. 

You matched his heavier breathing. “Levi, I’ve never done this before. That’s why I left earlier, I, I’ve never done this.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, holding onto a string of hope that you hadn’t ruined the mood.

“I understand those nerves,” he said softly. Levi, soft. “Do you want to stop this talking?”

You blanked, and searched your feelings. Fuck, were you nervous, but fuck, were you wet. “...No.”

“Good, then,” he murmured. “Will you tell me something?”

You rolled onto your back, properly massaging your soft breast through your thin tee. “Uh-huh?”

“How easy is it to make you wet? Dip your finger in your slit. Tell me.”

You pinched your nipple, and bit back a whimper. That hand drifted down, nudging the crotch of your shorts aside, lips parting to find your pussy soaked. There was barely any friction.

“I’m… I’m so wet,” you answered in a small voice. “I can’t even… How hard are you?”

Finally, you get a hushed groan through the speaker, nudging your cheek. “Me too. Wet.”

 Pushing your finger through your folds was only a drop of what you needed anymore. Your jaw dropped, until what he had said registered.

“You are?”

“I told you; it comes from my slit. Everything is wet. And it’s fucking—” A harsh sigh. “—I-It’s sensitive. Tight.”

A moan tumbled off your lips. “Let me touch my clit. Please.”

“Let you?” A low, husky laugh combines with the static. “Are you that eager to please me?”

“Yes,” slipped off your tongue before you could stop it. You can flick your thumb across your nipples, and squeeze your legs, but the ache only worsened.

Levi gasped. He said, “I’m fucking my hand. Use your fingers and tell me how tight it is. Tell me what it tastes like. T-Tell me…”

Knowing how badly he wanted it, just as you did… You kicked your shorts down and all but flung them across the room. Seeing how forward he was being, maybe it was your turn.

Your hips all but jerked as your palm slid over your clit. “Fuck.”

Levi moaned, low and gravelly. “Filthy word, for you. What could you possibly be doing?”

“I know,” you sighed. Your grip on the radio went strangled as finally, your pussy sucked in two of your fingers, and involuntarily tightened around them.

“It’s tight, so wet, it’s easy to…to—”

“To fuck yourself,” he finished. “Is it full enough? Do you need more?”

By the question alone, your pussy quivers. You fuck them slow, but deep, allowing your clit to rub up against your palm on every downstroke.

“Need more. Even if I went faster—” you curled them, and moaned, “—not full enough. I’ve never… Never felt full enough. Tell me what you're doing?”

You knew Levi was picking up the pace by his hastening panting. A whine slipped through as you finished talking, dissolving into a thick groan.

“I’m fingering myself.”

“Fuck, Levi.”

“Never, at all? Never been fucked full of cock before?”

“No,” you squeaked. “Levi… I’m.”

“Never felt a tongue on your clit? Never… felt your legs being kissed? No one’s ever gotten to taste you?”

Your fingers slammed in now, and curled. “No.” 

Frantically, you bullied in a third, and shivered out a moan. “I want it to be you.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you.” You were too aware of your closed eyes now, of the distance. “Wanna kiss you, wanna fuck you, w-wanna make you come.”

“You’re already making me come,” he groaned. “Fuck… I want…A-Ah.”

“Tell me,” you whimpered, fingers curling. Your climax was right there. On the very edge.

“...Everything. E-Everything.” Then he whined, your name stammering out. “I’m gonna, fuck, I’m gonna.”

The tiniest moment of silence dissolved into a heavy moan on his end, sounding like it came from low in his throat, and rose higher.

God, you wanted to see. You wanted to catalogue all his sounds to memory, photograph them, or stuff them in a bottle so they were preserved the exact way you heard him now—that normally harsh, sour tone gone soft and strained as he came undone for you. His panting echoed in your ears.

You intentionally slowed to hear all of him. Imagining his terse features drawn loose and full of bliss, the blush stretching down his neck like the first time you kissed. Hands balling into fists, his head thrown back.

Slowing down didn’t matter. A faint cry shattered the air, your back bending into an arch. You shivered, fucked yourself hard. His name fell off your lips without a second thought, only this time he was capable of hearing it.

“Yeah, fuck your cunt for me. Come all over your fingers,” you heard through the buzz. “That’s a good girl. Keep saying my name.”

And you did. You did—until it was the only word you could come up with, and you shuddered from the sweet shocks when the sweet shocks made you slow.

In the glowing aftermath, your breathing slowed. You worked your fingers out with a small whine, and laid your hand on your stomach. Vividly, you sensed your hands shaking.

What could you say after that? Not even a moment had passed, and your belly was already light with embarrassment.

Levi’s voice was a heavy rasp. “Gonna see you tomorrow. You’re going to come here.”

Tomorrow was Sunday. You didn’t come in on Sundays, it was completely unheard of for you. Even when you were neck-deep in work, you allowed yourself at least one day of rest—

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you replied.

Early that next morning, you felt the sweat clinging to your skin before you were even conscious to be totally aware of your phone ringing; you pressed the call button before registering Hange’s name, even. 

Their voice burst in your ear, “We have a problem.”

Your body, heavy from sleep, vehemently disagreed with shooting up in bed, but you did it anyway, stumbling to your closet. (Good thing you dragged yourself out of bed last night to shower.) Hange never sounded so urgent.

“What is it?—Y-You’re up before me?”

“I got a call from Erwin, who works too much to sleep. Now listen. I’m sure you heard that storm last night.”

The events of last night slammed into you with vicious clarity, so much you dropped your belt, stammering, “Y-Yes.”

“Well, it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.

“I mean, they’re not calling for an evacuation, don’t worry about that!” they exclaimed. “But it’s supposed to be this way all week, so the team the state sent out is grounded ‘till Friday.”

As Hange said this, you whipped open your curtain, scowling. The sky was blanketed by a dirty bluish-black, full of foreboding. Rain smeared the glass, making the world beyond a giant smudge.

“They can’t use an airport?” you snapped. “Aren’t they…”

“Grounded.”

You shut your eyes, trying to remember. Erwin scheduled this evaluation for Wednesday. It would be unusual for such an early evaluation, if only this wasn’t Levi.

“So it’s happening today,” you surmised, barely breathing.

“I’m afraid so.” An engine turning over rumbled in the background; Hange’s Jeep didn’t have doors. “So we need to go. Stat. Erwin never leaves work, so at least he’s ahead!”

You shot downstairs and whipped your phone off your ear to check the time. It was so stormy, you couldn’t tell if it was morning or not.

It was late, later than you tended to wake up, but still early. This would be close, but…

You told Hange, “I’ll meet you there,” and hung up. 

The last thing you did was shuck on your raincoat and snatch your keys. No time for your earrings (Dad’s gift. Lucky. You told yourself that that was a myth for now) or any coffee.

But, Levi’s coin weighed heavily in your pocket.

All the way past the main desk—nodding to Petra (who had ended up there after being relocated from Levi’s project), scanning your keycard, keeping a suspicious eye out for anyone in suits—you walked calmly, your head held high. 

It was only when the heavy metal block, the door to the canal, wandered open before you could get to it did you hurry. That must have been Eren. 

Incredible, you thought. The power of persuasion.

To your surprise, inside the canal, Levi was already leaned up on one hand in the lowered stretcher near the Director, who was crouched and finicking with the wall-mounted spout. Given it was dismounted, water from the underwater tunnel system would pour in.

Levi perked up at once and tilted his head at you, as if measuring you up.

Cheeks warm, you nodded to him. “Good morning. Are you ready?”

A subtle pink even rose to his cheeks. Reaching, he pet your hair down before diving into fixing what a haphazard brush through it missed. 

“...What a stupid question,” Levi said.

“A meaningless one, yes,” Erwin agreed, though it didn’t seem like he was paying attention. 

Moving past Levi, you crouched and yanked the navy tarp covering your equipment away. Looked good.

“No matter what happens next, there’s no turning back now,” Erwin went on. “Very good, Levi.”

“I wasn’t talking to you. And I’m no seal. Don’t praise me,” he refuted, tail flapping.

You could hear the smile in Erwin’s voice. “Certainly not.”

The full-body spandex suit was as blue as the tarp, and the hardest to peel on over your clothes. Easier was the slim pair of gloves. Then you shucked your shoes off in exchange for the flippers (Levi watched avidly as you did this, contrary to his ordinary brand of watching), followed by your diving helmet. Tubes connected it to the fat tanks you strapped onto your back. 

You assembled your rebreather. It was a much more sophisticated device, incredibly expensive, too, because it recycled all the air you breathed out in exchange for a much larger supply of oxygen. 

It was almost magic, if not for the dangers of being underwater, be it too deep, or for too long without surfacing. The descent wasn’t anything to worry about, though, and with your route, you didn’t plan to be underwater long enough for it to fail.

That was the plan, at least.

Parts clicked. While your focus remained steadfast on this, you briefly thought of Hange. They were your distraction; it was up to them to hold Theo Magath and his men up for as long as possible, giving you and Levi precious time to escape. Erwin would eventually join Hange.

Finally, your tool belt. Along with a knife, a round flashlight, and your oxygen gauge, a slim navigation computer joined your supplies. It shut like an accordion (These things always astounded you. You wondered what face Levi would make when you opened it), and when closed looked like an ordinary pole. 

You clipped that flashlight to your chest, and turned your radio to Hange’s frequency. Whenever, for whatever reason they or Erwin needed you, you would be there.

With a sigh, Erwin rose to his feet, hands on his hips. “It’s ready to flood,” he said, almost reverent, but mostly awkward. “Good luck, Doctor. You as well, Levi.”

Why did this feel so… final?

“Luck is a scam,” he muttered, but took the pat on his shoulder. “...But thanks.”

You smiled.

You and Erwin worked around your equipment—especially the helmet tucked under one arm—to share a half-hug. 

(Levi made a face.)

You were thankful that Erwin reminded you to radio Hange once you made it to Anchorage Cove, your destination. If you didn’t know any better, you would think this was your eulogy. 

Levi would be on his own after that. Despite knowing you would see him again, a sense of loss punctured you. Nothing would be the same; he had the world to himself again. Really, how could you compare?

“Understand?”

You nodded. “Will do.”

Erwin left you. As soon as the heavy door grinded shut, you slipped into a crouch and shielded your face before popping off the spout. A gush of cold water roared into the canal, then poured and poured.

“You know what this means,” Levi spoke over the bombardment. He leered over you.

You pinned your tongue between your teeth, trying desperately not to smirk. If this was the time to talk like that, you could breathe underwater. 

“It means we’ll have a proper goodbye, until next time?” you guessed.

He leaned over and flicked your forehead. Then his fingers feathered down and tilted your jaw up towards him. He looked remarkably fond.

“A proper ‘see you later’,” he corrected you.

“You’re right,” you breathed. You kissed him lightly, only for salt to spread over your tongue as you were dragged even closer.

When Levi grunted, you pulled away so you weren’t reminded of similar noises you heard him make the night before. 

“Cute,” you scoffed.

“I know.”

Shadows off of it casted shimmery lines across the walls, and the air became more briny than ever. It reassured you an enormous amount (to your embarrassment) to sense Levi plop down nearby. 

Metal off the nearby grate, already unscrewed, whined as it was popped off its hinges. You didn’t doubt that Levi insisted on helping Erwin with that, before.

Biting down a smile, you performed a final check of your equipment, and stopped at the glassy gauge that monitored your current oxygen levels.

“Levi,” you said tonelessly.

He was already smushed against your side, glaring. “It’s not full.”

“Yeah.” You blinked, struggling to believe. “I know.”

Things moved so fast before; the tanks must not have had enough time to be filled. Some random person on the nightstaff was to blame—you couldn’t do anything about that—and it was too late to turn back, so what could you do?

Levi seemed to understand the gravity of what was happening much faster than you. He took your wrist and shook it gently. “What now? Huh? I can’t just breathe into your mouth.”

“No, you can,” you murmured, still taken with the gauge. Between the thick green line labeled ‘FULL’ and the glaring red ‘REFILL’, the ticker idled perfectly in half. How much wiggle room did you have? 

Vaguely, you registered flat water rising up and swallowing your calves.

Levi slapped your flipper. “Do you plan to tell me while you can still talk?”

“I’ll be able to talk,” you replied, again, toneless. Your mind raced.

An eerie calm settled in your blood as you went about explaining CPR to Levi. It was like anxiety’s swift fire, but tamed by an invisible force, and you didn’t know what. You could only take advantage of it while it cooperated with you.

You didn't have time to teach Levi “Stayin’ Alive”—the perfect, and easiest, rhythm to learn that CPR is performed in—but you could explain enough until the water overtook your chest.

Thirty seconds between firm, not rib-breaking, chest compressions, then exhaling into your mouth. When you rushed to explain the part about 90 beats per minute, Levi’s head cocked and upturned. It floored you how well he understood math.

“But that’s just in case. If I ration my air, we should be fine.” You shot your arm out for a pipe embedded in the stony wall in order to stay rooted to the floor. The water rushing in had other plans. “But we can’t stop. Not for anything.”

Levi wasn’t affected by the urgency lacing your words. He only nodded and rose up on his palms, following the water with his tail’s natural buoyancy.

Your rebreather hummed to life as you popped your helmet over your head (staying mindful of your hair), the air hissing as it sealed. A thick, fixed tube supplied your air from the two tanks strapped to your back. 

You glanced down at your oxygen gauge obsessively as water engulfed you completely. Your suit’s tech blocked out the chilly temperatures.

Levi either didn’t notice the cold water, or made it seem that way. He glanced at you fleetingly before pushing off the sides of the gaping grate first, of course; his tail accounted for how much bigger and faster he was. All by himself, he possessed the strength to tear that grate off its tight hinges, if it came down to that before.

With much less grace, you followed. The quick, controlled flaps of his tail was your only sight, even with the small flashlight attached to your chest… unless you counted the rusting walls above, below, and on either side of you, that was. It was disgusting, and by Levi’s quickening pace, you bet he thought the same.

Before you ended up at a crossroads, you stretched the flexible display  of your computer open. In lieu of any additional light, the map built in was more analog. It reminded you of Pac-Man, where your location was outlined by the fat white dot blinking in the top right portion of the screen. Sector 3.

Every pipe, outlet, and path of the facility was laid out before you in green borders, like a maze. You imagined hundreds of canals, just like the one you knew so well, laid out before you. Paths.

A few avenues laid ripe for the taking, but not all were made equally. There was size to account for: the fastest routes and the dead-ends. Water was carefully filtered down those paths so, excluding the reservoir you needed to make it to, fresh water circled back to all areas in an endless loop. 

These, to be concise, were walls. You couldn’t be sucked in, but hitting one would mean turning around while fighting the current, which meant wasting oxygen—a privilege you didn’t have.

You squinted as the pipe began to extend and widen around you. The new space let Levi push against the water, joining your side. 

He had to slow, though. His tail meant the only advantage you had was kicking your flippers. Your lungs strained.

Both his arms stayed extended far in front of him while he squinted over your shoulder at the strange device. No comment.

“I have to slow down for you to keep up,” he spoke. Bubbles wafted up from the corners of his mouth and got trapped by the rusted ceiling.

He bent his elbow just slightly. “Hold onto me.”

With a grunt, you locked your elbow with his. Your hand scrambled back to the computer’s rubber handle before a squeak (Please let him not hear that.) was torn from you at the sudden increase in speed.

High-quality equipment like yours was a blessing; no buttons stood in the way of your voice and Levi’s hearing.

“Levi, slow down!” you yelped. “I need time to plan a cohesive route!”

“I don’t know ‘cohesive’. Either way, you breathing is more important than that.”

You floundered. At this rate, he would soon be dragging you. 

“A good route,” you spelled out for him. “If we don’t have that, we’ll get stuck, and then air would be an issue for sure!”

He growled, actually growled, like an animal. “Why didn’t you make sure?”

You had been asking that yourself, kicking yourself over it, too. All you could say was, “I can’t plan for everything! I wish I could!”

“Don’t yell!” he yelled. “You’re wasting it!”

Obediently, you shut your mouth. The first crossroads was nearing, anyway, and you needed to focus.

You reached the sharp split in the passage in what felt like no time with your eyes on the computer and Levi all but racing. His halting hit you so sharp that you could have jerked miles back if it weren’t for his hold on you.

“Left,” you ordered. “Lev’, slow. Down.”

His sidelong look at you is long and sharp. It wasn’t just that he feared for your safety any longer, but… as if you were locked on the stand awaiting a damning sentence. You didn’t know how to get it across any clearer that it wasn’t your fault. Guilt is a long-fought enemy of yours.

“I’m sorry,” you hissed. “S-Stop looking at me like that.”

His lips pressed. “I’m not blaming you.”

While his arms pushed through dark waters, he eyed the computer over your shoulder. Only the distant yellow flashlight and the occasional white blip washed his face in a flash of light.

You followed his eyes to the computer screen. Your dot flashed adjacent to the dead center of the maze.

“We really don’t have that long to go,” you explained. 

“But what of your air,” he snarled. “You’re too relaxed about your own death. Did you enjoy drowning before, and want it again?”

All you could do was shake your head and squeeze your fists in efforts to manage just that: your dwindling supply of air. The darkness smeared your vision of the gauge, but you knew the signs: light-headedness, anxiety, confusion… If only you wouldn’t hit empty sooner by falling into a panic because of Levi’s incessant griping.

You heard him. In fact, you were all too aware of the pathetic barriers of spandex and glass from suffocating water. 

Claustrophobia would eat you alive, but only if you let it.

Be brave, Dad would say. Don’t get wrapped up in a bunch of complicated advice. You know what to do, so be brave, and do—

“Stop breathing so fast.”

Your shoulder knocked his, gasps growing. The blood pumping through your veins lifted into a vicious wind.

“‘m not doing it on purpose,” you snapped. Your suit constricted your chest tighter, it felt.

“How to stop it? You’re wasting your air.”

“You’re making it worse!”

Now did his race between him, you, the baggage, and the water idle some; your heartbeat throbbed in your elbow when his grip slackened. He had held you that tight.

Levi’s eyes flashed through the inky water. “I’m sorry.”

You coughed out a sob, blinking through your tears at the computer. Another choice was just around the bend, quite literally.

“Tell me what to do. What can I do?” he went on. The order was the same, but too soft to be defined as anything other than begging. “I don’t want you to die.”

Here, you hit the wall. Your voice shook after you cleared your throat and spoke, “Right. We take a right, here.”

Strings of dark hair, made brighter still than blackness like this, waved about Levi’s head, but he didn’t move. His right hand braced the rusty bottom of the passage.

When you turned towards him, your light exposed his expression for what it really was: fear. His eyes wide and searching below his furrowed brow, jaw so tight that the veins in his neck popped out.

“Levi,” you begged him breathlessly. You glanced at your wrist. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Don’t be like th-them. Or like him.” His temple knocked your helmet. “Don’t make me helpless. Take deep breaths, so I can keep you from… being like them.”

His friends… Dad? 

You gaped softly, blinking at him through the dark haze. This was no time to get embarrassed, but you certainly didn’t believe Levi was being driven this crazy over you. In your mind, getting him out was all that mattered. All that really mattered.

A moment of stillness soothed the anxiety, but Levi was still waiting on an answer.

“I need you to trust me,” you told him, determination renewed. “What you think is best isn’t always the best choice. Okay?”

His lips pressed, frustration evident in the furrow of his thin brows. If you knew anything about Levi’s bad sides, it was that he always believed he knew what everyone was thinking. That his way was best.

Underwater, the odds were certainly in his favor, but not all of them.

A hand feathered down around yours through your glove, and squeezed. Finally.

“...I trust you,” he said.

An invisible weight flew off your shoulders. “Then let’s keep going.”

And so you did.

A pressure system was in place to pump out any undesirables that might have gotten trapped in the tunnels, like dead fish or garbage, and the further from the center you moved, the more you saw. Soda cans, candy wrappers skirting along the tunnel’s rusted bottoms, or floating listlessly in your path. 

Levi batted these away with growing irritation, the gills on his neck flexing. Since the last time his nails were trimmed, they have retained some of their talon-like sharpness, and you flinched whenever he happened to shred a piece of litter. 

You became accustomed as you approached the third and last—

You glared at the tablet, not entirely believing your eyes. The kicking of your flippers faltered, and Levi noticed.

“What’s wrong?”

You blinked. Your clear, calm exterior again completely masked what you truly felt. 

“We’re going the wrong way,” you stated blandly. “It’s my fault.” 

Your eyes squeezed shut. “Shit. Fucking fuck. Goddammit, if I wasn’t in such a rush before…”

Levi’s eyes went a touch wide; you had never cursed so much in front of him.

But, his voice came to you eerily calm. “We go back.”

“Retrace our steps, yes,” you said, then coughed. A cursory squint at your wrist made for an even filthier string of curses.

He was seemingly nonplussed. In fact, an entirely harder brand of determination fell over his expression. “You should hold onto me. I’m not stopping.”

You shucked the computer shut and shoved it into your toolbelt. With a nod, you took his arm with both of your own, but Levi shook his head. He took his arm back and instead bullied himself underneath you.

“Don’t get cocky or anything. I’m not some pony… Just hold on to me.”

An image flashed in your mind of a rollercoaster. Oh, god.

Acting cocky was the last thing on your mind. 

You floated up behind his back and locked your arms around his middle, feeling flustered for a reason beyond you. Someone needed only to look at Levi and shrink away from his imposing presence, so clinging to his muscular back was intimidating, even knowing him as well as you did.

“Tighter.”

“O-Okay.”

You forgot about his uncanny sense of smell. You earned a tiny scoff for your embarrassment before he lurched forward with a sudden shove that yanked a cry of surprise out of you.

Bubbles rushed by your ears in an eternal cacophony of noise. There wasn’t a moment of reprieve, not one where Levi’s strong tail bumped your knees, forcing them into a tight bend that made your thighs burn.

Thanks to your helmet, your eyes could remain open, if your only view wasn’t wisps of Levi’s hair plastered to the glass, and darkness. This was where, evidently, his special night vision came in handy, like a cat’s.

Turns lurched your body one way, like a bull intent on bucking you off, but Levi never let you even have the chance of straying too far. The powerful whips of his tail would occasionally stutter so he could reclaim your grip with a snap to hold on.

You could have argued that his speed was bordering on supernatural, but you were too busy trying to hold on to be snarky.

Levi’s navigation must have been supernatural as well. You didn’t doubt his ability to stop, and right before you hit the split in the passage where you once were—one way forward, one way right further back the way you came—he paused abruptly, nearly bucking you off for the nth time.

You plopped your chin down over his shoulder, while in front, you unfurled your computer. The light planted you above the center, like before. The way out was straight right. 

“We were supposed to go right, so go straight,” you said.

Levi didn’t reply, but he didn't hesitate, either. You couldn’t decide if this was a good or bad thing when you narrowly had enough time to shut the display in order to hold on for dear life. It didn’t help that you could no longer tell if the thinness in the air was a lack of it, or his speed. 

Did that even make sense? You risked flying off if you pulled your wrist away to check.

The passages were slowly constricting again. If you were still beside Levi, you would have been forced to swim behind like before—a snail’s pace compared to what he could do. Every few paces, more and more often, the divots of a metal air vent would pass overhead, the bubbles wobbling in your wake.

Almost there. You commanded your arms to stop aching and hold steady.

By the time tiny groups of tiny fish whirled past—you flew by too fast for your flashlight to even fall on them to tell you their color—you knew you were heading in the right direction: towards the reservoir.

You tucked your head down as much as the helmet allowed and told him so. Your next breath in filled the bottoms of your lungs, but it felt like nothing.

“How long?” he shouted over the current. Even he was out of breath

“There’ll be a reservoir,” you gasped. “And light. That’s how we’ll know—” gasp, “—that, that we’re out.”

Levi tilted his head upwards, and slowed.

“What’re you doing?” you asked over the noise.

He slowed and slowed. As usual, he pried your wrist off from around his middle for you, and glared at the ticker wobbling over the red line.

“Is your head light?”

You blinked and sputtered, not understanding the question. It was like a cord in your mind that was progressively stretching longer and longer, halting any sensible train of thought.

“Yes,” you said. When you spoke, you closed your eyes, and got the uncanny feeling of your mind alone floating above yourself in a tight squeeze. A head above clouds. In outer space.

Levi stopped below a vent, and gently shrugged you off so you were forced to brace yourself on the unforgiving metal wall. It knocked against your helmet.

Nothing was making sense. Weren’t you supposed to keep going?—You were nearly out!

“Levi!?”

He shot you only a brief sidelong glance, as his arms were held above his head, fingers skirting over the vent. “You’re going to pass out before we make it.”

He sounded so final.

“...Um, it’s…” You went to rub your face, but knocked the helmet instead.

This appeared to be the only answer Levi needed.

Silence, besides the drumbeat, your heart, beating in your skull, was thick until what sounded like a metal beam cracking rang through the water. It happened once, then again, then once more before it even occurred to you to look at Levi.

His biceps were straining, matching the twisted grimace on his face. Metal twisted, followed by the grate slowly wobbling its way down. It was shoved away, causing a clang that rocked the inside of your skull. Blood in thin strings wandered in its wake from his busted knuckles.

You gaped, stupefied. The world wobbled ungracefully, like a slinky falling upwards as you were grabbed and thrust through the new entrance at the top of the passage.

Levi finicked with your helmet until the clasp released. Your hands were just stuttering up to help when a sudden rush of sour air swallowed your head. But to you then, it might as well have been a fresh breeze.

You gulped in air with abandon, arms flailing. Unbeknownst to you, he held you up; his hands were sloppily bullied around your waist, tight. Over your shoulder, clammy hair touched your temple.

“There,” he huffed thinly. “Good. That’s good. Take your time.”

God, you did. With a cursory spin of a dial, your air shut off so you wouldn’t waste more, and then your head fell back, simply taking in what you had been deprived of since your lungs decided it wasn’t enough.

You coughed and gasped until it felt like you had your head together again. The throb in your skull and the squeeze in your chest abated, then vanished.

His voice was in your ear. “That’s better.”

You were much more aware of your closeness. All you could do was shiver. “Thank you.”

You touched his hand, but he only batted yours away. 

“I’m fine compared to you,” came his low voice. “Tell me how many minutes the screen says.”

“Fine,” you sighed, not feeling that way at all.

From your belt, you bullied the pole out and unfurled it. Droplets fell over it in rivets when you raised it above the water.

“A few minutes,” you replied. “I can make it to the reservoir, but after that I need to surface as soon as possible.” 

You wished you weren’t so weak. “This wasn’t supposed to…” You shook your head, slightly blocked by Levi’s.

“There’s nothing we can do now,” he settled. “I’ll get you there.”

You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, and tilted your head slightly to rub his temple. “I-I trust you.”

Levi was not one to crack under pressure.

After a series of vents, busting his sore knuckles, your precious, hurting gasps for air, you made it to the reservoir. No sun shone light from the sky, making the water a blue blackness only he could see through, even inkier thanks to the boats overhead.

The Officials, Levi so thought of them in his head, had come. Thunder shook the earth as he whipped through the water, and he shivered, chilled by the water, then chilled further when those gasps ate at his racing heart once again.

He didn’t have the privilege of slowing; he merely tossed you the words, “Don’t let go of me!”

Not a response came, only strained gasping crackling in his ears. It was like tearing, like ripping a fragile thing open, like you were dying and there was absolutely nothing he could do for you besides hurry more. Hurry until his heart exploded. Hurry until he, too, couldn’t breathe. 

That would be fair.

Levi dipped deeper into icy night, raking his memories. Many years of belonging to this area, and many many many living in water itself offered him a memory of a cove nearby—Anchorage, you called it—with lots of rocks. You could survive there.

Survive, he thought, as your grip on his middle slackened, then went limp.

“No,” he spoke aloud, veering left. Ache latched its piercing talons into his muscles, especially his arms. He finally glared over his shoulder at that look you were wearing, and regretted he did.

He put his eyes towards the rising sandbank instead. What to say—How could he convince you, in that state?

By the time the nearest rockwall shielded you and he, he popped up from the turbulent waters dragging you, and winced as slimy edges dug into his tail on the fattest rock in the area. To say he ripped the suffocating helmet off your head would be a severe understatement.

Only, you didn’t wake up then.

“Hey,” Levi panted, and all but dropped his quivering hands on your cheeks, shaking your head from side to side. He patted your cheek, and slapped, but you just—

No help would come, he knew that, and so he drew and snagged the zipper on your suit’s front; that’s what you told him to do. To fix it. To give you air.

Were you breathing? A cursory hand falling over your lips told him that that meager breath was coming from you, not the wild breeze blowing his hair.

Your heart. His head fell down on your chest’s right side and waited.

A rough crackling broke the breeze. Hange’s voice yipped your name. “We have a problem. Over.”

Levi screwed his eyes shut, and all but nestled his ear close, searching for a distinct pounding over the cacophony of noise. Rain pelted his back like bullets.

“...Levi? Are either of you there!?” Then quieter, “Please tell me something is wrong with this thing…”

“Shut up.” Levi clamped his hand over his other ear, then jerked as a gloved hand fell on his back, patting like a dying thing would.

The radio growled, and growling himself, he ripped it off your hip and knocked it aside, not too far it’d fall in the water, but uncaring if it did. You were breathing so weakly it sounded like crying, and so he climbed and bullied his hand under your shaking back (every bit of you was trembling).

For as harshly as the coughing shook your chest, your eyes stayed closed.

“Cough,” he ordered. “Now!”

The radio went on neglected while your coughing, your retching, came thicker and rougher with each heave your chest made. It was dry; no water. 

He frowned, now full of doubt how much you being awake meant now. The smallest chance of you falling back under, or worse, leaving him just when relief was rearing its head was unthinkable. 

He doubled forward and reached around you, as he had done before to encourage your lungs, but you dragged his wrist down to your belly instead. He was pinned.

“What do I do?” he asked by your ear, eyes wide and wild. “T-Tell me what to do. Just tell me, and I’ll get us out of this. You don’t have to do anything anymore if you just tell me what to do, I....”

The only way you responded was by shaking your head. “Jus’ need to adjust.”

“Repeat.”

You coughed, coughed, and coughed.

He sent a cursory look around the cove, but all that walled your surroundings were rocks, bushes, and shallow pools. Not having a vantage point bothered him.

You were clutching your belly, or his hand, hard. While you panted, he rubbed gently, causing you to huff.

Your eyes opened, shut. “I’m okay, Lee. CO2 poisoning. Just need to breathe.”

CO2? He frowned.

“Okay,” he replied. He trusted you.

Seemed you were getting your bearings finally, but he didn’t relax yet. A seagull crooned overhead.

The radio rumbled once more from beside him, and finally, you perked up a little.

“Hello? Levi?—I need to talk to your other half, urgently this time. Over.”

Glasses again. 

You hiccuped. “Please, Levi.”

He picked it up and pressed the button. “Yeah. They can hear.”

“I don’t have much time to talk; Erwin is covering for me,” Hange said, sounding more grave and more serious than Levi thought they were capable of. “With Levi and you missing, Theo… upped security. Federal agents are here, and they plan to conduct a search.”

Because you ran out of time. Because Levi wasn’t fast enough. 

Clutching your temple, you leaned over and tilted the radio towards you, but your mouth opened and closed, useless. To be fair, Levi didn’t know what to say, either.

“I wouldn’t—” Hange’s voice cracked to add to the uncanniness. “Listen, tell me you’re okay. Tell me you’re fine?”

“I’m fine,” you ground out.

Levi looked down at the lumpy rocks, brow drawn, and a stone in his chest. “Go back.”

Hange cut in, “Levi, you need to get out of there. I bet ships have already showed up—”

“They have. We’re past them.” 

He told you, “Say you went after me, but failed.”

This… poisoning, was his fault, and in the first place, he shouldn’t have pushed you so hard before. You did all this for him; that Blondie included, and Glasses. 

You would be fine. This was the plan.

He had much to feel guilt about, and he struggled, very much struggled, not to regret his actions. At least when it came to Izz and Farlan, circumstances had been beyond his control.

“Levi,” you coughed, head shaking.

He imagined you being thrown into a situation like he was. A soldier like Eren, and the murder machine in his hand, and outright nausea turns his stomach. His jaw stammered uselessly.

The radio crackled, which put Levi immediately on edge. Hange said with some reluctance that they had to go, and, “they’re gonna be tracking this frequency, so for now, you need to get somewhere safe.” 

They paused, clearly wrestling with something. “Hey, Levi?”

He grunted, stomach churning.

“...Nothing. You know what?—Nevermind.” Then they said your name. “Stay. Safe. You hear me? I’ll get back to you as soon as I can; or Erwin, but probably me,” they spoke in a flurry.

You sounded the same. “Yes, yes, I hear you.” 

But did you?

The radio crackled and died, and after that, quiet permeated except the waves washing over rocks and sandy shore. Levi hadn’t even processed the fact that he was home again, until now. It felt very alien to him.

Inevitably, his eyes wandered to you, who looked better, if a little clammy, your pallor sick-looking. Seemed you were processing, blinking at the rocks.

“You go back,” Levi said again, stubborn. “You noticed me gone and went in pursuit, but failed, and go back injured. They’ll take pity on you.

“But you’ll need details to make the story realistic. I can get far enough away for it not to matter.”

No, he would not protect you further. He knew what he was, which he had forgotten in his time in the cage after some point. The both of you were divided on a fundamental level. Species, people. 

Who was he to make all these demands of you, and go on to ruin your entire life because of a choice he… must have swindled you into making? You were not to stay with him.

“Levi,” you said.

Either way, this was poorly advised. Foolish.

You don’t… match. This was wrong. Even if things had gone without a single slip, it was wrong. He had no one, and so he was doomed.

“Levi.”

You needed to just. Go. Back.

“Just. Go. Back,” he barked, borderline snarling at the water. “At best you’ll be questioned.”

“At best I’ll be held in contempt by the highest courts in the land, Levi,” you ground out, eyes closing. “I ‘let you escape’. We can’t. I can’t.”

He would argue, again and harder. “See reason already. If you choose—” he shook his head, flabbergasted, “—this path, to not go back, you can’t go back again. You might as well be dead.”

“I know,” you sniveled.

His voice broke. “You want that? I can do nothing for you, I’m not…”

“No—”

“You shouldn’t’ve trusted me. You fucking fool, you shouldn’t have—”

“Stop, Levi!” Your eyes were round, fists tight on your lap. “If that’s how you feel, then just go. That was the goal anyway. Get out of here.”

He gaped, stricken. Leave altogether? “No.”

Your legs crossed, your head planted firmly in your hands. “Either way, you leave, and if you don’t, then… I failed.”

“No.” 

It hurt him like a twisting dagger, hearing you speak like that. You were so wrong.

You shook your head. “I’d be dismissed if not tried, and then—regardless, we could be shut down. You’re that important.”

You said all this without looking at his pinched expression, muffled in your palms. ‘Tried’ was a word he didn’t know the meaning of in this context, but he said nothing.

“This way it’ll just be a tragedy.” You rubbed your temples, then peered at him over your hands. “Don’t look at me like that. You saved my life. Again.”

He looked away, but kept the same expression. How else should he look at you?—With contempt? Nothingness? Both were impossible.

“Levi, I…”

His breath caught. “Don’t,” he whispered. His eyes snapped shut. “It’s too late.”

You began to fall apart. “I can’t go back.”

“I know.”

He couldn’t leave you, and yet he was wrong for you.

“Tell me,” he croaked. His decision-making was not always best. “Tell me what I can do for you.”

Despite himself, in wake of no answer from you, he shuffled over and nudged your shoulder with his forehead. 

You sniffled, a hurt sound, so he wrapped his arms around you, and you seemed to let go. Your whole frame relaxed against his like you needed him just to breathe. You did, before.

“I…” Your soft hands moved around his own, and squeezed. “I think there could be one thing… Do you trust me?”

None of this would have been happening if he didn’t.

| levi masterlist | main masterlist |

[donutloverxo]

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[henry-and-the-seven-lords]

Hello @gluttonousfruit you are in fact my first request. (I did not forget about you in moving my blog.) I am super excited to have anyone ask me to write something! Also I would love to be friends! Feel free to message me through asks or in private DMs! I hope you enjoy the imagine!

Warnings: Fluff with a small amount of angst because Levi doubts himself 😞

Brothers Masterlist | Dateables Masterlist

Levi with an Animator S/O

"Okay MC, I know we just finished 'Swimming Only Leads to Hot Mermaids,' but I was thinking since we are already watching otomes, we should watch another series that everyone is recommending online!" Levi says this as he begins to pull out one DVD and place in another while bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excited puppy.

"I guess I could watch one more series, but it better be a good one. Sure the mermaids were attractive, but there wasn't much of a plot." MC says with a yawn. A quick look over to the clock, and it reads 11:48 PM in a blinding blue light. Not too late for one of Levi's normal bingefests, but a little too late for MC when they have classes tomorrow.

"No, I promise this one is good. Everyone is talking about the art style. They say it is so original that it's captivating." Levi walks to the small futon briskly and plops himself down next to MC as he continues to ramble about the art. His voice slowly trails off as the opening begins to play.

As the music fills MC's ears, they perk up and a small smile appears on their face. "Levi, could this perhaps be, 'I Went to Hell For a Weekend and Got Stuck in a Love Heptagon with Seven Incubi'?"

Levi faces MC in shock. The look on their face is quite smug. (In all seriousness, it reminds Levi of Mammon when he wins poker, but he doesn't want to be think about his brother while looking at MC. So he pushes that thought away.) This anime came out only the day before their bingefest. And even then, Levi had this copy pre-ordered for this very occasion and it arrived before any stores were selling physical copies. There is no way a normie like MC could have heard about its release. Does this mean MC isn't such a normie after all?

"You heard of this show already?" The surprise in his voice was impossible to hide.

"Yeah, I have heard of it." MC smiles and chuckles quietly, "I have never actually seen it, but I have heard the opening quite a few times."

"Oh..." Levi sighs. He was so stupid. Of course MC had heard the opening. It is all over his Devilgram and they were on their phone for part of the last show, so they obviously just heard it on there. Levi deflates looking solemn. It was just a pipe dream that MC would ever be interested in his yucky otaku interests.

"Hey! There is no reason to be all sad just because I know the name of the show. I still haven't seen the whole thing. My first time watching will still be with you Levi, isn't that special enough?" The smile on MC's face seemed sincere enough, but the words that came out of their mouth made blood rush up to Levi's cheeks. Their first... did they really mean to say it like that?...

As thoughts begin to flood Leviathan's head the show began. It was true the art style was captivating. So captivating in fact, that he forgot about his embarrassment. But MC's words still lingered in his mind as he watched the show.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Well, I am dead tired." MC stands cracking their aching joints as they look at the clock. 2:37 AM. It was that late already? "I think I need to head to bed Levi. I have classes in the morning and I need at least a few hours of sleep."

"Are you sure?" Levi was just starting to enjoy MC's presence. At the beginning of the night, he was on edge trying to make everything perfect. Levi did want to mess up by being a yucky Otaku and give them a reason to leave him all alone. But as the night progressed, (and more snacks were consumed) he felt increasingly more comfortable with sharing his favorite shows with MC. "I have other shows we could watch to pass the time, or we could play this new game I got-"

MC walks over to Levi and gently sets their hands on his shoulders, "Games and anime are great, but what I need right now is sleep." MC watched as Levi's face filled with a blush and his eyes flashed with hurt. "I am not leaving because I am mad... or sad... or anything really. I just need to sleep, Leviathan." Their voice was barely above a whisper as they said his name. How could he disagree with them when they said his name like that; all the while, looking deep into his eyes. He felt like he could explode.

As MC turns away, the demon in question then sighs mutters a quiet "okay" under his breath. "Don't worry, Levi. This isn't the last time I will watch anime with you. I promise we can do another one of these when another new anime comes out." MC begins to pick up their things. A blanket they brought with them to keep warm in Levi's cold room and the rest of their human snacks. "Besides, I really liked that one, and I have heard they are already making season two." As they speak, MC makes their way across the room to the gigantic tank.

"Wait. How do you-"

"Good night Henry. Good night Levi." And with that, MC leaves. Closing the door behind them.

How did MC know about a second season? Even he, the Great Otaku Levi, has not heard about a season two on any forums or on any other website... After thinking about it, Levi suspects it's probably on Devilgram like the opening was. To prove his theory, he pulls out his D.D.D. and opens up Devilgram to the 'I Went to Hell For a Weekend and Got Stuck in a Love Heptagon with Seven Incubi' page. He scrolls through their posts and finds the opening, like he predicted, but what he didn't predict was their most recent post.

"This show would not have been possible without MC. Thank you for making such a great story and great art to go along with it!"

Levi reads the caption once, twice, thrice and is speechless. The photo for this post is none other than his MC standing with a hand drawn piece of the protagonist. He can even see their signature in the corner when he zooms in! He knew that they liked to draw, but he never thought they would make an anime.

Without thinking, Levi gets up and begins to run to MC's room. He needs to know that this isn't some sort of elaborate prank that MC and Satan brewed up to make him like a normie more.

The door to MC's room busts open, "MC!" The room is completely dark except for the light shining in through the doorway.

"Levi...? Is that you? Is something wrong?" MC's voice is soft and laced with sleep. If this were any other time, Levi would have screamed over their cuteness, but today he had a mission. He immediately marches up to the half asleep MC and promptly shoves his phone in their face.

"Did you make 'I Went to Hell For a Weekend and Got Stuck in a Love Heptagon with Seven Incubi'?" MC sits up and squints as their eyes adjust to the blinding screen and look at the post.

"Um... yeah. That's me isn't it?" Silence takes over the room, before Levi begins to scream.

"WAHHHHH! MC, why didn't you tell me!" Thankfully with the phone only being pointed at MC, they can't see the blush spreading across his face.

"Well, I didn't want you to treat me differently because I make anime." Laying back down as they speak, MC tucks a pillow under their head and looks up to where they guess Leviathan's face is. "Besides, I thought it was really cute how you were fanboying, and I didn't want you to stop because you knew you were in the presence of the creator." A small smile makes it's way on to MC's face as Levi feels his own get hotter.

Now covering his face, Levi quickly makes his way to the door while muttering, "You can't just say things like that..." As he begins to close the door, he pauses and opens it up again while looking back, "Can you tell me more about your show tomorrow, MC?" His voice sounds small compared to his previous scream.

"Of course Levi. We can talk for as long as you like."

[inhuman-obey-me]

Knowledge is Wrath

Word Count: 1.8k Description: The Avatar of Wrath had mastered the art of pleasantries and placid smiles, a mask he wears nearly perfectly -- but if you try and take advantage of him, he won't hesitate to let it fall. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Hereeeeee's Satan and his glorious wrath!! Note: Cabariel is a high-ranking demon named in the Ars Theurgia who has fifty dukes attend to him in the day, and another fifty dukes attend to him at night. Thalbus is one of the named night dukes, who are said to be deceitful and disobedient. Can also be found on AO3 here. content warning: gore gore gore, blood, body mutilation/horror

The Avatar of Wrath had mastered the art of pleasantries and placid smiles, burying the rage that always burned under his skin deep within the darkest parts of his soul. He would be more than wrath, more than the fury that everyone expected of him. At least, that is what he would constantly tell himself, knowing that many still found themselves on edge in his presence. It’s all an act, some who had witnessed his true self would say, others merely repeating it for his title and position alone.

There was a place where those whispers would fade away, however. The company of high-society, where he had gathered an array of acquaintances with whom he could discuss a variety of subjects, sharing his extensive knowledge and exchanging it for theirs. These connections only ran so deep, most never crossing the line into friendship -- but friendship is not what Satan sought. He wanted status, a curated image that placed him firmly in the echelons of the wise and out of the shadows of rage incarnate, out of the shadow of pride.

“Thank you again, Lord Satan. I can’t believe I’ll actually be able to see this scroll for myself!” A lesser demon eagerly walked alongside the Avatar of Wrath, accompanying him through the gates of the Demon Lord’s Castle.

“It’s my pleasure, Thalbus.” Satan gave the other his ever-polite smile. “Cabariel had mentioned multiple times that you were anxious to get a look at it, so I’m glad I can be of assistance.” Here he was, leading one such acquaintance to the Royal Archives housed at the castle. It was a privilege few had, one that Satan treasured greatly. He had been allowed by Lord Diavolo centuries ago to visit the archives as much as he pleased, and he did not let the offer go to waste.

They descend now, traversing through the grand passages of the castle -- both imposing and eerie, some corridors shrouded in darkness while others are aglow with flames. Portraits watched them pass by, whispered -- ‘a new visitor, how quaint’. Upon reaching the door that housed the array of treasured documents and scrolls, Satan whispers an incantation he knows well, the last of the words leaving his lips and turning into a spark of light that traces the intricate pattern carved in stone. With a click, the door opens, and the two walk in -- the door then heavily shutting behind them.

“Here we are.” Satan gestures to the main archive room, lined with towering shelves that nearly reached the domed ceiling. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“It is, it is!” Thalbus gives him a grin, ever-so-slightly crooked. Clasping his hands together, his eyes scan the magnificent annals of the Devildom. “So … where is that scroll?”

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Satan merely smiles, though he feels the way his jaw wants to clench. “Come, it’s in one of the back rooms.”

Down a few aisles, through an archway, and they now are before a vitrine with a scroll neatly rolled out in full display, the parchment delicate from its age but its fibers intact due to restorative magic. It’s much smaller than one would expect, and thick ink is scrawled across it in ancient demonic tongue -- “The Word of the Regent”.

“Wow,” Thalbus gasps in awe, scuttling closer to the glass to get a good look at the prized artifact. “So it really does exist … “

“That it does.” Ah, what a smug look it was that now graced the Avatar’s features. “It really is fascinating, apparently written by one of the first kings. Many are still trying to decipher it’s more complicated and muddled passages, as it seems to speak of a series of powerful rituals that would grant whoever is able to perform it a great amount of power and wealth. Or, so say the urban legends, the actual validity is still debated and -- “

Satan continues to speak, showing off every bit of knowledge he has on the subject as Thalbus continues to admire the scroll. He gets a few ‘hmms’ and various other one-word acknowledgments in response, which is all he needs to continue his confident rambling. To be in the presence of another demon who understood the splendor of such a relic was refreshing, even if for only selfish reasons in that the Greater Demon could bestow an interested party in all his wisdom.

“Thank you once again, Lord Satan.” Thalbus gestures in great respect, hiding a rather satisfied smile as they both eventually leave the archive chamber. “I am incredibly lucky to have been able to be introduced to you, and to see the scroll for myself! Ah, what a dream come true!”

“Again, you are very welcome.” Picture-perfect smile, a steady gaze. They round a few corners, go down a flight of steps -- the portraits whisper again, “oh my, oh my”. They enter one of the dim passages, steps lost to shadows.

“Um, Lord Satan … forgive me, but is this the way back out?” Thalbus warily speaks up, eyes darting around the dark.

“Oh, no. No, it isn’t.” Satan laughs, shaking his head as a large smile stays plastered on his lips. A fool, the Avatar thinks to himself, he truly takes ME for a fool! How ridiculous, preposterous, outrageous. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice, Thalbus?”

“Pardon me?”

“Adorable, how you think you can feign innocence.” He laughs again, though malice bleeds through his voice this time. With a wave of his hand, the shriek of metal scraping against stone is heard -- a gate closes, and Thalbus now realizes he is trapped in a room with no escape. “So, why don’t you hand it over?”

“Oh … you mean, this?” The lesser demon produces a thin tube from his jacket, cocky grin splitting his lips. “I suppose you’re sharper than I realized. Didn’t think you would pay attention while you kept yapping and yapping.” How courageous, for him to act as if he wasn’t moments away from wrathful consequences, Thalbus would have one think. How utterly foolish, is what Satan knows.

Imperturbable smile still present, the Greater Demon steps closer and moves to snatch the contained scroll from the thief, but Thalbus has decided he’d much rather opt for more severe torment as he moves to hide it again. Were all demons of deceit this imprudent? The flames of wrath begin to grow within -- hotter, deadlier.

“How about we make a deal?” Thalbus tries. “You let me borrow the scroll, and I’ll grant you something in return.”

“Oh?” Satan’s smile widens, but his teeth grow sharper. “A deal you say? Truly, Thalbus, you continue to impress!” He begins to laugh, that laugh that sounded so melodic and cheerful and yet just a hint deranged. Satan tilts his head to the side, his eyes glowing a fierce green in the darkness. “You think that you of all demons can entice me with a deal? Just what could you possibly have to offer ME?” His laughter continues, growing more maniacal as his body continues to shift and distort. His claws grow longer, his tail thrashing about as flesh gives way at parts to bone, green flames tracing up his spine to match the searing verdant flames that now emit from his hollow eye sockets. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

Thalbus does not have time to respond, though the terror now present on every crevice of his being is answer enough. In an instant, claws are at his throat as he is held up against the wall, the sound of metal hitting the stone floor ringing out as the scroll slips from his grasp and rolls into the far corner of the room.

“Ah, looks like you’ve lost your bargaining chip!” There is a distortion to Satan’s voice, a grating echo. “That’s too bad.” His tail goes to flick at Thalbus’ cheek before roughly moving against his flesh, its sharp edges peeling away at his skin to reveal what lay underneath. The lesser demon tries to shriek, only to find no sound leaves him. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

Satan laughs again, before the claws of his other hand immediately go to grip Thalbus’ jaw, wrenching it open and piercing a claw through his aforementioned muscle. “Oh, guess it’s actually me.” As the lesser demon struggles, Satan can make out a garbled “Please!” as he sees tears leave the other’s eyes.

Please?

PLEASE?

What could this pathetic excuse of a demon, this wretch, this absolute shitstain be thinking that begging “please” would help get him out of this? This situation that he only had himself to blame, for daring to think that he could outwit Satan. The flames that danced atop wrath’s form grew brighter, hotter, larger -- and he unhooks his claw from the demon's tongue to instead grab hold of his jaw once more and rip it clean off his skull. Blood gurgles up and spills from the deceitful demon’s open cavity of a throat, muffling his continued screams which only sounded like music to Wrath’s ears.

Rage overflowed through every fiber of Satan’s being, his mind now clouded and his vision blurred among the inferno. His blood boils as he descends into madness, a flurry of demonic curses escaping through grotesque fangs until words become unintelligible screams that shake the stone walls in his fury.

Idiot, idiot, idiot, IDIOT!

The sharp bony horn that now protrudes from Wrath’s forehead is lowered to skewer an eye, then the other. Piece by piece, Thalbus is torn apart -- claws ripping apart limbs, teeth tearing out his organs, horn impaling muscle, tail grinding bone -- all while the smell of burnt flesh fills the room as flames lick at the remains. The sickening sounds of the lesser demon’s body being completely obliterated fill the otherwise empty chamber, a song of violence.

He is long dead before Satan is finished with him, painting the walls and floor with ichor and tissue and ashes of whatever else comprised the once corporeal form of Cabariel’s duke.

Ah, right. Cabariel …

Deep breath, count to ten … and Satan feels his form shift again, sharp edges folding away as his more human form comes into place. The haze in his mind is gone, the flames put out, the wrath forcibly buried back down as rage subsides. He is himself again, he thinks, for obviously this was who he was and not that beast that had just reared its head.

Yes. Himself.

He walks over to the corner of the room, deftly picking up the nearly stolen artifact. Rage begins to unfurl within him once more, but he must keep it at bay. This problem had been taken care of, disaster avoided. Cabariel would not be pleased to know that he was short a duke, but that was the least of Satan’s worries -- after all, Cabariel should be glad that it wasn’t his throat Satan came for next.

Another look around the room, and a tired sigh leaves the Avatar’s lips. He had purposely lured Thalbus away from the Royal Archives, but still ...

… Barbatos was not going to be pleased.

[herwritingartcowboy]

Blood And Love

Okay this is a request by @stygianoir , I so i hope you like it. But this is my first bsd request and i think i did good.

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Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Character(s): Lovecraft

Warning(s): Fluff, Smut, Tentacle play, nsfw, sub female, dom male,

Readers Gender: Female

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{Gif Not Mine}

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For many years you swam across the great ocean living on for years and years to come. But you were missing something more like someone. As one day you were floating along the water you heard voices. You swam back down in the water seeing something dark on top of the water. You knew it was a boat of some kind, but you weren't so sure. You tried to get closer, picking your head up a bit enough to hear a conversation going on. 

“Can’t we just go back” “No we must finish this mission” “I knew you were going to say that”. 

You were swimming a bit closer now you were intrigued. But who knew that would be your downfall here. “So why do we have to do this again?” “Well there is a myth of an immortal mermaid here, locals call her a goddess, many come to get a peek”.

“So where is here to look at something that doesn't exist” “Well there are sightings and we must find her and collect her” “Why that?” “Locals say her blood came to heal and make others immortal along with her but beside the mermaid part” “Yeah take me back to sore” “Really fine but you’ll have to wait for me alright” “Fine just hurry”.

They were going to take your blood and would not let that happen. They were going to pay for thinking that.

One man with long dark hair came back sore. You went on sore to go into your human form. “Hello is anyone there”, you said as the man flinched. “U-um who’s there” “I’m sorry i’m just los-t”. The man walked back a bit as you got closer.  You notice him scratching at his hand a bit.

“Sorry ma'am i can't help you” “But please sir i can give anything in return” “U-um you don’t even seem lost” “Well i am and can you please take me to your place please sir” “But i don’t even know you” “I’m Y/n and what can i call you” ‘U-uh L-lovecraft”

“What an interesting name, Lovecraft”. The man took you to his place but still was very distant and you found it rude on how he left the person he was with.

After he questioned you for hours he let you stay at his place saying you had nowhere to go and making yourself look helpless. 

Your plan was to make his life miserable and for him wanting to end it all but somehow you 

Lost interest in all that. There would be times where he was kind to you and times where he wasn’t but you didn’t care. You would wait for him to get home, always saying to yourself why you would not just kill him already. You killed many before dragging them down into the deep parts of the oceane, but he was different.

He looked like he could do no wrong in your eyes, almost helpless. And he soon started to feel the same way. Maybe it was because you helped you even though you were a stranger and how you never looked at him differently, even when he showed you his monster form by accident and instead of running away you came to him even though he would cut your body at places you would die you still went to him even cutting him in place where he would die and he didn’t/

One night you told him your true plan of everything and how you fell in love with him.

That night you both kissed, sharing each other's feelings for the other.

(Smut Here)

The kiss turned from passionate to lustful and rough as hands went around you. “Y-you don’t know how long i waited m-my goddess”. He soon started to grope at your breast taking off your shirt as he went to attack your nipple with his mouth playing with the other one. “L-love pl-please”, his mouth went up to your neck as he left purple markings all over back to your mouth. “I have an idea if you don’t mind” “What is it Love” “Can we use my other form”.

When those words left his mouth you felt you becoming more wetter as your face flushed. “I didn’t know you were that dirty love”.

“Sorry if i made you uncomfortable” “No i want to love please fuck me in anyway you want”. 

Tentacles went around your body as you both took of your clothes. He had you in front of him bend down resting your body on the couch you two were on. 

“Sure you want to do this” “Please love as long as you're okay with it”.

You felt a wet tentacle go in you as you moaned out in pleasure. 

“You like huh my slut” “Yes i do~”, he added a few more in your ass, cunt, and mouth.

He even slided his own length inside you as you were filled. 

“Ready for me to move”, you can only nod as everything started to move at once. It was nothing but pleasurable. You felt the tentacles mess with your insides. “You’re so tight”.

Soon he started to go faster as you clenched on him as you felt the knot in your stomach is about to come undone. “Please cum please please cum my goddess”, with those final words you came but he only speeded up as him and his tentacles came everywhere on you.

(Smut Ended)

You soon fell on the couch as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you okay Y/n” “Yes love i am fine don’t worry”. He picked you up as he started a bath as he went behind you holding you close. “Don’t worry i won’t let them do anything to you, you are mine Y/n” “And I am yours”.

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[suguruswife]

His best work of art Danny Johnson x Gn!reader.

Warnings: Death and feelings.

Gender neutral reader.

Words:3000+

Um, well, this is the first thing I post here so I hope it's not too bad.

I previously posted it on Ao3 (it's still there) but I wanted to do it here too!

Link

I apologize in advance if you notice any grammatical errors!

Summary: A serie of bad decisions led you to the wolf's mouth, although you don't seem to care.

'Good morning, dove.'

You rubbed your eyes to read Danny's message, still sleepy and exhausted. The morning had only just begun but he'd already texted you.

He usually send a 'good morning' to confirm that you were still alive—or at least that's what he always says—mainly because a murderer was hanging around town lately. Danny joked that the killer liked pretty young people, albeit according to the newspapers that wasn't a true fact.

The victims were men, women, tall and small, adults or adolescents. He didn't seem to care, he was only dominated by the desire for recognition and art; his knife being his brush, blood being his acrylic and the dead body of someone being the canvas.

Going back to Danny, the blue-eyed man always seemed to care about you—although at night he hardly appeared to show signs of life—there is a mutual concern between you two. Sincere, thanks to the friendship you have.

You like to piss him off about it and tell him that he was the only one looking for pretty people to fuck, to which he usually replies that if he had a good time, then there was nothing wrong with that.

After arranging your sheets to be comfortable and warm, you took your cell phone to answer his message.

'hello Pine Head what r u doing today?'

'The usual. Go out with some girls and go back to normal hours so mommy doesn't get mad.'

'Ouch, tell them that you still sigh for me.'

'you wish.'

You let out a laugh, and settled into your bed again. Today it seemed that it was a beautiful day but you didn't have the courage to get up. Preferring the security that the pillows and sheets gave you.

Suddenly, you remembered something you wanted to tell Danny.

'eyyy you seen?'

'what.'

'heard rumors that theres a page where you can ask Ghostface to kill you.'

'what?'

'yeah, you can send your personal information and he will see if hes interested in killing you or not lmaoo.'

'Sounds pathetic. What about the police?'

'this is all relatively new, Danny. and even if they were already aware, they wouldnt do anything because they are useless brains. Literally a bag of morons.'

'What a shitty town damn. Wanna meet in the park so we gossip about this?'

'mmmnqnwo yes, tell me what time.'

After getting the details from Danny, you got up to get organized. There were still like four hours left but you can't live in bed and this would be a good opportunity to clear you up and take a shower. Dan wouldn't appreciate a late arrival, the last time he waited more than 15 minutes he almost insulted even your family. The brown-haired man wasn't primarily characterized by his patience and kindness but he was like that, pleasant in his own way.

'Cookies or chocolate cake?'

'Both.'

A smile appeared on your lips, he really can't control his hunger, can he?

'both will be.'

-

"This shit is addictive," Danny said as he ate a piece of cake, scattering the crumbs everywhere. "Would have been better with a chocolate frosting."

"Didn't have time." The answer came out of your mouth, with one hand holding a cookie and the other entertaining with the grass.

"With this you could make most of the Slashers fall in love," he joked, directing his remaining piece in your direction. "Take it. This is the definitive piece, it'll taste like paradise."

You snorted before answering, "Danny, I made that cake, I know very well what it tastes like."

"Just take it, we'll have an indirect kiss by the way, muak muak." He took your chin between his hands as he directed that baked cake towards your mouth. "Don't be shy."

You did what he told you, you took the bite and you felt the same as before: a wave of flavor. Only chocolate.

"Still the same."

Danny gasped pretending he was outraged. "You can't be serious now, I literally sacrificed my best food and in this way you thank me."

"And I literally brought the cake," you remarked, emphasizing 'literally.'

"Whatever. Only I properly appreciate sweet things, dove."

"Why do you always call me that? Please stop, the last time an old woman looked at us as if we were a couple," you mumbled-yelled at him.

"Wise men say~" Danny started singing Can't Help Falling In Love while laughing out loud from time to time. "But I can't help falling in love with—"

"Shut the fuck up. You go out of tune more than my grandfather at Christmas and he really has vocal problems."

"You're so boring," Danny sighed, turning his gaze to you. "Tell me what other ways I can call you, dear grumpy."

"Let me think." You put your hand on your chin thoughtfully, staring at nothing. "What about 'love'? When will you call me that?"

"Love? The last time I called you that, you were a blushing mess," Danny couldn't help but snort in amusement. "What's the problem? I thought you liked the nickname dove."

"I was kidding, you can call me whatever you want, except degrading names, those are reserved for the bed." After saying that, you got up cleaning the dirt that the grass left on your clothes. The desire to extend this moment was deep, unfortunately it was time to go home.

"You don't have to go, you know? I could take you home later and—"

"I would love that but today is Lasagna Thursday, you know I have to be on time. Besides, I have business to attend to," you interrupted him before he finished speaking, you knew where this was going, you knew what he was craving. A moment alone, a moment of peace. Albeit you couldn't grant that to him.

"Alright," Danny said before getting up with you too. "I'll see you around?"

You smiled brilliantly, certainly Danny at this hour was getting calmer, more relaxed. "Of course you will, pine head. Don't even hesitate," you lied. It wouldn't be the first time, the words just slip away, giving a false promise of another reunion. You hoped he hadn't noticed the slight trembling in your hands, or worse, the look of regret and sorrow in your eyes.

But he did.

He approached taking your hands in his, and almost whispering, let his thoughts escape. "Take care and don't do anything stupid." He directed his hand towards your forehead to give it a small blow. The frown was what stood out the most on his face at the moment, and even understanding what he meant, you couldn't help but question him.

"What would be stupid to you?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Curiosity is one of the strongest weaknesses of people."

"Sometimes I wish you would stop acting like a dad, you will get wrinkles," You rolled your eyes feigning annoyance, but the smile on your lips showed otherwise.

"I care about you, you know that," he replied. In a way, his blue eyes deepened when he showed concern. It felt like they had a life of their own.

"I know. Take care, Danny." You kissed him goodbye and headed home. You could feel his gaze, it was so comforting and heavy at the same time.

-

When you got home, you went directly to your room to turn on the computer. If Samantha hadn't lied, then there really might be a possibility of contacting Ghostface.

She had sent you a link that you hoped to be able to access from your computer, it would be easier to handle.

You only had to wait a few minutes for it to turn on. You copied and pasted the link and it took you to a page.

What the hell, you thought.

The screen welcomed you with everything in black. It looked like it had stuck.

Shit, you didn't know whether to think that your computer exploded or if you were just being hacked.

You decided to wait a few minutes to see if something appeared, otherwise you would have to explain to your parents why and how you screwed up the computer in the house. Although a wave of hope filled you when you saw the page was redirecting you to another. At least nothing broke.

But the feeling dissipated as soon as you saw that there was a message where the address of your house was read. The idea that this link was fake and stupid was gone, now the question that was on the screen watching you with impatience.

Is your house here?

Yes. No.

Without hesitation, you pressed no, confirming it would send you straight to the wolf's mouth. People say 'don't get too close to the fire' after all.

Such was the surprise when you saw how the "Yes" box had been marked. You didn't know or have any idea if this was a machine error or if this was already programmed to work like this, certainly it was causing you panic.

Nothing else appeared. You also didn't dare to move from the chair-just in case something happened and you weren't there- and that was until you heard your cell phone vibrate. You reached out to grab it, looking briefly to see if it was important or not, usually hardly anyone was texting you at this time. Curiosity came to you when you saw that it was an unknown number, they had only written hello to you but you could clearly see that they were still writing. Impatient, you returned your gaze directly to the screen and then to the cell phone.

The horror and fear settled in your body like a parasite as soon as you read what they wrote to you. A location, not yours but somewhere else, a park.

An invitation.

'Park. In front of the fountain with the statues of angels. Don't make it difficult and come. You decided to join the game, now you can't take it back. If not, I will take other more unpleasant measures. GF.'

you already lost.

You spent a while spacing out, reading the message until you heard your mother telling you that the food was done.

Lasagna never felt as unpleasant as it did now.

-

You decided it was too late to retract the decisions you made all day; from listening to Samantha, taking Danny's piece of cake, to now hitting an unknown link and being stalked by a murderer who only God knows how many families he ruined with his murders. All those events led you here, you had no one to blame but yourself. So, when you arrived at the park, a feeling of discomfort settled throughout your body. You couldn't help but think that you were being watched. Maybe he was already there, playing with his food.

What would he do first? Try to scare you and then stab you out of nowhere? You wanted to think that you'd certainly not scream but if he came out of nowhere… that would probably scare you to death. It would be funny though: 'Ghostface scared a person to death, new modus operandi?'

You were so deep in thought that you didn't notice a man sneaking up behind you until he put his gloved hand over your mouth.

"Waiting for me?" the male voice asked in a sweet tone, too cloying for your taste. "It's such a pleasure to have a pretty one around here, are you my prey today?"

He waited a moment before realizing that he still had his hand over your mouth, clearly preventing you from speaking. Slowly he slid it, freeing you from that grip.

"So... you came," you muttered as you analyzed his costume. There wasn't much to look at either, it was simply a black cloak and the hideous mask that gave him his name.

"I never miss a chance to recklessly kill someone." His voice was rough and raspy, it fit him well. Almost as if it was made just for him, leaving the other poor men dumb. "I must admit that I've received a lot of requests regarding this, but you must be the first to stay this calm and still. I believe you will be my favorite, Birdie," he put on a tone of false affection.

"I better be. Maybe I'm asking you to kill me but that doesn't mean I wouldn't want to be special."

"Bonus point 'cause you are extremely cute and quiet. But I'm a big fan of screaming too, so if you want to scream I'm not complaining."

You smirked boldly at that, "Do you want me to scream and make a great scene? I can do that." You cleared your throat and prepared to say the first thing that crossed your mind. "Oh please don't kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel," you heard how he let out a laugh. His laugh sounded so spontaneous and familiar.

"Didn't hear a scream in that sentence but at least you were original. I like that," he said as he sat down on the grass and patted his left side, hoping you would seat as well.

You hesitated before approaching. "May I at least know your name?" you said that while bending down slowly and carefully. The most normal thing would be to do everything quickly but what is the rush? It's too obvious how the night will end for both of you, better enjoy it as much as you can.

Ghostface was silent before answering. "Names are sometimes associated with appearance, I'll let you give me the one you think is more appropriate."

"I do not think that names are associated with the physical aspect of oneself but... lemme see. From your tone of voice I think you are someone pragmatic and bold, but I feel this is a facade more of Ghostface than your true self," you paused before continuing, thinking of a name that might fit the man behind the mask. "It would be funny if you were a shy nerd in your daytime "me". If so, the name I would give you would be... Jed."

Luckily you couldn't see him, because otherwise you would clearly have seen his indignant face.

"Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to like that freaky name!" Ghostface barked with what was supposed to be rage, but a little chuckle gave him away, showing that he found the situation funny.

"Well, you never said you had to like it, plus it sounds good. Jed, the man behind the murders overnight, and a great investigator of the local serial killer during the day." You started shaking with laughter, the fall of the great assassin would be completely a funny thing to witness.

"Well, you never said you had to like it, plus it sounds good. Jed, the man behind the murders overnight, and a great investigator of the local serial killer during the day." You started shaking with laughter, the fall of the great assassin would be completely a funny thing to witness.

"Well then Jed will be." 'Jed' snorted sharply before sinking into deafening silence.

It was so strange how today especially was such a different day, removed from the real world. As if this were a movie and not just another event that will take place in the town. Not a normal one, of course.

The biggest clue was that there wasn't a sound, and you barely heard the breath of the person next to you. It felt as if today the insects and the wind had decided to leave you to give more peace to the environment.

Jed shifted uncomfortably next to you, you felt his leg brush against yours. "Are you scared?" he asked. Oh, how you wished you could see his face. His voice said as much as his mask: absolutely nothing decipherable.

"Trust me, I got more scared seeing Chucky for the first time." At this, you both let out a couple of laughs. It would have been a romantic scene at its best if not for the fact that Ghostface pounced on you, dressed as a being of the night instead of one of the light. You still got carried away with the moment and ignored the fact that he had a knife pointed at your stomach.

"Are you okay?" Jed whispered slowly, your brain processed what he said syllable by syllable, as if his mouth longed to lengthen the moment anyway.

"I'm in my prime, don't you feel like I'm brighter today than usual?" you asked wryly. You knew he didn't know you in person, otherwise it would be really embarrassing.

"Must be the effect the moonlight has on you. It suits you very well," he replied while touching your forehead with what you would call affection, however, you didn't feel warm fingers but his leather glove once again, cold against your skin. The touch made you shiver.

"Don't say that unless you want to excite a poor soul like me." Giggles without genuine emotion escaped your mouth. You didn't expect an answer nor did you want it.

Silence came again. No words were needed for now, but a kind of nervousness arose in you. The anticipation of upcoming events unintentionally upset you. Either way, Ghostface didn't seem to like the idea of being quiet.

"Why do you wanna die?" he asked with what in your ears sounded like genuine curiosity.

"Give me an easier one." You rolled your eyes in obvious annoyance, apparently not even the murderers are spared from the lack of tact in conversations. "You wouldn't get it. Also, why would you be interested? You even care when your victims beg you to live? for you to have mercy?"

In a blink of an eye, Ghostface put his hands around your neck in a warning manner, not a strong grip but a firm one.

"So will you just leave like this?" he asked in an angry tone. "Isn't that selfish?"

"Any feeling of selfishness is erased when it's replaced by loneliness and darkness."

"Are you willing to leave your family like this? To leave him?" he spat out those words, like he was giving you clues to some twisted game. Whatever it is, you and your inner self refused to participate.

You frowned, confused at the mistaken assumption that there was a 'him'. "Yes, if that is what is going to bring me peace once and for all, then that is what I want."

"Selfish, selfish, selfish," Jed muttered endlessly, the words spilling out, one after another. "I... You're lucky that you are behaving and have good manners, otherwise I would have gutted you at this time."

"You think I'm educated?"

"I think you were decent."

"Do you think I'm attractive?"

A pause.

"I've seen better looking people."

"It can't- I'm literally gonna die and you tell me I'm like the others?" you asked, feigning outrage. "First of all you point a knife at me, then you tell me I'm ugly; and so do you consider yourself a gentleman?"

"It's a shame that you treat me in such a way, I was just thinking about letting you go and revealing who I am."

You looked for his eyes with your gaze -no luck though- darkness surrounded everything.

"Are you being serious?"

"Of course I'm not!" Ghostface replied while squeezing your neck a bit more.

"Kinky," you just said at the same time you were smiling. "Am I being a good victim?" you asked him with a twinkle in your eye, longing to know that at least this time you're being useful.

"I think you're the best. No other person will be able to fill your position," Ghostface answered without a trace of doubt in his voice. Never in his life had he hesitated to drive his knife into someone else's chest, and yet he still did not understand why his fingers were so tight around the knife, as if they didn't want the monster to devour the princess, having a consciousness of their own.

His thoughts never waver but his body language tells another story.

"Is it a promise or a fact?"

"Both," he said while at the same time plunging his knife into your chest, he felt that you were unconsciously holding onto his hand. But that's fine, he allowed you, after all, you were the protagonist today. And for the rest of his life. Being the brightest star in the galaxy.

As life was leaving your eyes and body, Ghostface took the opportunity to slide his mask a little over his lips. You could glimpse they were shaped like a cupid's bow, good lips.

He leaned even closer to you and placed a small kiss. It was as if his warmth was suddenly focused on that kiss. You would have kissed him back if your senses hadn't weakened so much along with your heartbeat, and perhaps you could've heard the last thing he whispered to you. It was the first time someone said those words to you, but certainly the last as well.

"Good night, love."

Your lifeless body was breathtaking, anyone with a deceptive sight could have believed you were an angel or some kind of statue. They would completely deny from their hearts having witnessed such a work of art. Truly a shame. This is the best work of a murderer. Made by Ghostface, nothing more and nothing less.

[your-average-weeb-dealer]

um can I get some Jjk angst? Just some really angsty drabbles (I want to get hurt lol)

Heh- I can work with that

warning(s): blood, death, being cheated on, rejection. unrequited love, murder (kinda), extra sads on this one :(

{𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢} Itadori has never felt this way about anyone, ever. The way your smile seemed to make his entire body explode, your laugh made his knees weak, your eyes were so beautiful it made him feel like crying. Yet, you weren’t his, and you’d never be his. You loved someone else, and no matter how hard he tried he’d never be that person. He watched you giggle with your partner and his heart ached. When your lips pressed together, Itadori imagined you were kissing him- and that made his heart flutter. Still, it was just his imagination. Sukuna mocked Itadori, telling him every reason you wouldn’t want to be with him. Against his better judgement, Itadori listened. Maybe it’s a good thing, y’know? Since they would execute soon him.

{𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨} He sat alone in his room, staring up at the ceiling, wondering where he went wrong- was it something he said, he did? Was he too boring? Was it the way he held you, did Itadori hold you better than him? I bet he did. Or maybe he just wasn’t enough for you. It’s probably a combination of all of those things. Tears rolled down his face as he turned onto his side, grabbed a pillow and screamed as loud as he could. He missed you so much- and he hated himself because of that. He was so stupid, how could he ever believe someone as beautiful as you would ever want to be with him, someone so perfect could never love him. Of course you love Itadori, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking perfect, compared to Megumi- he’s everything he isn’t, kind, powerful, attractive. I guess you’re right, be with Itadori.

{𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮} Gojou has never really feared rejection, I mean what does he have to fear? He’s powerful, attractive, and smart. He normally has no problem getting who or what he wants. But with you it was different, you never showed an ounce of interest and you always told him to “stop” when he was flirting with you. He just took it as “playing hard to get”, yet when he told you how he felt- you said you hated him. You hated how he could never take a hint, how he walked, how he talked, how he acts so smug, finally you called him childish. Gojou had never had this happen to him. He felt his heart shatter into millions of pieces, little windows of insecurities opened up, making way for every negative thought he’d ever have. This is what he deserves isn’t it. He could never take a hint.

{𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜} It was rare for Inumaki to wish he never had cursed speech, sure it was annoying- like when he couldn’t say I love you (vocally at least) and when he needed to comfort you. Other than that, it was pretty useful. But now, seeing your empty eyes as your body lay lifeless in his arms, he loathed his technique. He didn’t even know how it happened. Everything was spinning, his mind running a mile a minute trying to think of what happened to you. Yelling and screaming your name from the bottom of his lungs until blood came gushing from his mouth, yet he still called for you. The tears and blood mixed in a pool by his knees. Just open your eyes! Open your mouth and tell him it isn’t true, caress his face and tell him everything will be ok, just move, do something! Please…

{𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐞𝐢 𝐘𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨} You sat at home watching tv, waiting for your boyfriend to call you back. You weren’t that worried. Sometimes it took him a little while to call back, he was probably binge watching another movie series and had turned his phone off. No biggy, he’ll call you back to tell you the entire plot line soon. When your phone rang you picked it up immediately, not looking at the caller ID, it had to be Junpei- nobody else was going to call you this late at night.

“Junpei, finally, I was getting a little worried-” you smiled excitedly into your phone.

“I’m sorry, Junpei Yoshino is dead. We recently found his body on the Sato Zakura campus. This number was listed as his emergency contact would you like to discuss..” The man’s voice on the other line faded out. Your eyes filled with tears, your lungs felt empty, you tried to breathe but everything felt brutally cold. You would never see him again, your precious boyfriend would never call you at 3:00 am again to tell you about a movie he just watched, you would never hug or kiss him again, this can’t be real. It’s just a dream, and you’re going to wake up with Junpei right next to you, right? Yeah, that’s it, just a dream. Wake up, all you have to do is wake up.

[zvnphoria]

- how being koko’s best friend would be like

a/n - had too much fun with this. THIS IS VERY LONG UM. this is an apology for being inactive.

contains - fluff, teeny bit of angst, just platonic because YEAH, fem!reader, implied strong reader, reader has mommy issues (definitely not projecting), reader had a friendship with akane and looked up to her like an older sister

you and hajime go way back since you were kids. you two met in an interesting way but not necessarily in a good one.

you were walking to the nearest park to get out of your crazy house because your mom kept screaming at you over the littlest thing again. you forgot to wash the dishes (you didn’t necessarily forget that’s for sure). you stopped once you saw a boy around your age getting beaten up by some older kids. his hand gripped tightly on what looked like a school bag and protected it like his life depended on it.

it didn’t matter anymore because you had just knocked out both of the bullies in no time without a thought— almost as if it was normal to you. when you looked at the boy, he had blood going down from his forehead to his cheek, heavily panting and on the verge of passing out. he’s not the fighting type, huh. luckily you had a towel wrapped around your neck since you had just gotten out of the shower when you walked out your house, you weren’t gonna spend much time at the park anyways

you kneeled down and wiped the dripping blood off his face and noticed a bigger figure running towards you both. it was.. a girl?

“hajime-kun! what happened here?!” she panicked as she checked your surroundings

“akane-san.. it’s no big deal i promise..”

“no big deal?! i knew something was up when you rushed the other way. and my bag also happened to be missing! why didn’t you ask for help? you don’t need to be independent all the time.”

“and you,” she began, making eye contact with you

“are you okay? are you hurt?”

“no no! i’m fine don’t worry.”

“she was actually the one who knocked them out, akane-san,”

the older girl looked at the unconscious bullies, then back at you with shock and amazement in her eyes

“you did this? that’s amazing!” she says as she quickly takes your hands and wraps it around hers

“uh.. yes i promise it’s really not a big deal. i’ve dealt through worse, trust me,” you say as you gaze at the direction of your house

“worse or not this is still definitely something! even i cant beat someone up, and i’m way older than you!” she chuckled

“well it’s not like you have the heart to do something like that, akane-san,” the boy comments

“hahah you’re right, you’re right. anyways we should get going now— the sun is gonna set very soon, and you should get home as well. is your house nearby? we can walk you if you’d like,”

even ‘til this day you still don’t know why you didn’t decline her offer. was it because she was nice? it didn’t matter anymore, because if you had declined, you wouldn’t get to meet such amazing people.

it’s been a few months after meeting hajime and akane, and you had also met akane’s younger brother who was your age— seishu! you four would often hang out, whether it was at the inui home or at hajime’s house. getting to know them was pretty fun, and very interesting because a certain someone had a crush on akane.

it was definitely not seishu because they’re siblings and that’s just weird, definitely not you because akane had reminded you of your older sister who was almost never in your life, so that only left one choice— hajime.

his crush on her was so painfully obvious that you couldn’t stand seeing him try to impress her every now and then. he even ditched his glasses and bought contacts just for her to compliment him! he’s whipped huh..

one day you decided to help him out a little with his crush. it was another day of your usual hang outs except this time it was at your local mall! akane’s birthday was coming up and you three had collectively agreed to take her to the mall and see if she would see anything she’d like. turns out she was eyeing some platforms with red on the bottoms, and you took notice.

seishu dragged her to go to the food court with him because he was “hungry” so you and hajime took the chance to buy the heels. you were both now at the cash register, waiting for the register person

“i don’t understand you,” you began

“i don’t understand why you like her so much. i mean— i get that’s she’s amazing and nice and pretty and all but.. there’s another reason why you like her. something must’ve happened for you to be so attached to her so what is it?” you meant no harm with this question whatsoever. you were simply curious and that’s all.

before he answered, he smiled to himself and looked back at you

“she’s the only one that makes me feel not under pressure all the time. she’s the one who constantly reminds me that i shouldn’t be so independent and that i should always ask for help.” as you took a breath in to reply, he stopped you

“before you say anything, i know. i know she doesn’t like me. i know she’s just being nice. but there’s nothing wrong with a one-sided crush right?” he grins

even though he was beaming with a smile in front of you, you knew. you knew this wasn’t how he truly felt. you knew that deep down he was hurt but it was understandable. after all, he was just a kid wasn’t he? you saw right through him.

it was a shame after what happened the next couple of weeks after that conversation. it all happened so fast and none of you were prepared for it. you weren’t prepared for the incident that had happened to akane. a few days before it occurred, koko proudly told you that he was planning to confess and you were way against it.

“huh?! but i need to get this off my chest, y/n! i don’t care if she rejects me or not!”

“haji, i have a bad feeling about this.. i’m serious. you know how i always get bad feelings and they turn out to be true!”

he groaned and scooted far from where he was originally sitting which was right next to you. you sigh and got up to sit down next to him and laid your head on his shoulder so he wouldn’t escape

“i just don’t want you to get your hopes up, that’s all.” deep down you knew the truth. akane wasn’t interested in boys one bit despite all the confessions she had received almost every week.

“fine. you have a point. but im still going with this,”

all you could do was do nothing but let him. oh how you wished you protested more, because in return all he got was a huge burden on his shoulders.

“please ma’am, just please tell me what room akane inui and seishu inui are in,” you shouted as tears were rolling down on your cheeks. “107, right down the hall and take a left ‘hon”

you bowed and quickly made your way into the room. as you burst the door open, your eyes immediately go on seishu who looked so sad to the point where he didn’t even bother to look up at you. you hug him with a feeling of relief flowing in your body, but soon that feeling was gone when you asked where akane was.

you stood outside the door, not knowing why your feet couldn’t move. what’s wrong, y/n? her voice rang your ears. go on, don’t worry i’ll be right here next to you and if you get scared, just hold my hand! right. that was the time you were at a “haunted” house together and you were scared to go in. why are you being reminded of this right now?

you gulped and slowly opened the doorknob and found a crying boy in front of you, hands grabbing on the sheets with his head on the edge of the bed. you couldn’t do anything. all you could do was sit next to him with your head resting on his shoulder while you were crying.

a few years after that, you both acted as if nothing had happened. not because you wanted to forget akane, but because you knew akane would’ve wanted you both to continue living on without her.

despite not dating, you two would always have couple tendencies like feeding food to eachother or hugging often but you’re just THAT close to the point you can probably kiss without feeling any romantic attraction whatsoever

you couldn’t hang out with him as much anymore because of all the gang related things he’s doing. to make it up to you, he knocks on your window late at night and sleeps over most of the time. you talk to him about the usual— have you been eating? you should get more rest. and so on.

you were the one who got him to start wearing eyeliner! at first he just looked at you with a confused face when you handed him it as his present, but then you explained that if he wants to go fully dedicated to the black dragons, the wings of the eyeliner would represent the wings of the dragon. he didn’t wear it at first, all he did was ruffle your hair and said he’d think about it— and he kept his word! so now he’s the iconic money-making genius that wears eyeliner.

after all that’s happened between you two, there isn’t a single awkward moment you share. you know those friends who bring up an adult related topic out of completely nowhere? you two were those friends.

“i was walking by an alley and i heard a girl getting fucked,” he says while chewing the piece of gum you handed to him

“..and??”

“i’ve never walked away so fast in my life.”

there are days where you’re sad but, of course, you don’t tell him. in fact you don’t need to tell him because he’ll know when you’re upset.

“so are ya gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he says as he rests his head on your thighs

“ugh how do you always know..”

“because we’ve been together for the longest, duh.”

he doesn’t show it much, but he cares for you more than you think he does. overprotective and can’t help but show it at times, but don’t worry! he’s doing it because he loves you. remembers the littlest things you talk about and are interested in. he’s also constantly on the lookout so that you don’t get hurt or even worse.

when he’s the one who’s upset, you immediately know. he’s quieter than usual, zoning out a lot and just not paying attention to what you’re saying to him, almost like he’s in his own little world. before you initiate a conversation, you play with his hair so he’ll feel comfortable as a way for you to convince him to tell you what’s wrong.

even though it happened such a long time ago, he still thinks about her. you cant blame him, you do too! if you were to describe your best friend with one sentence, the first thing that would pop up in your head was weak little boy. not weak as in physically weak, but weak as in mentally weak. he can’t help but get emotional when it comes to her, which is understandable.

“it’s not your fault, hajime. she left you with no proper closure, and now you’re carrying guilt and burden on your shoulders. anyone would feel the same or even worse in your position.”

he didn’t respond but he doesn’t need to. all that matters to him is that you’re next to him, comforting him with your kind words like you always do. you both have some differences which caused a few arguments, but in the end you would still be best friends.

speaking of arguments, you argue either over the dumbest things ever or over serious topics. one time you got mad at him because he was beating you in a video game and his smug expression was not helping at all. you kicked him out of your house because you were just THAT frustrated. you felt guilty so you decided to walk to his house and apologize but stopped once you saw a certain figure trying to climb up to your window.

in the start of the serious argument, it was completely something different than what you were yelling at each other about now.

he showed up at your house with your favorite boba and snacks. you demanded him to put those down.

“hajime. food— no. MONEY cant keep me happy forever, and that also applies to you!”

“then what else am i supposed to do?!” his voice started getting weak. he was never the type to argue because he’d always get emotional.

“what am i other than a money-making genius? other than a wallet?”

“i cant do anything about my situation, y/n. nothing. because that’s all i am. just a stupid wallet for everyone to use.” he says about to walk away until you grab his sleeve to stop him.

“that’s not even true. you’re so much more than that, hajime. i’m sorry.. i’m so sorry.” you were crying into his chest and he couldn’t help but cry with you.

he spoils you 100%, no doubt. there was a point in life where you would always decline but you had just gotten so used to the offer that you got tired of fighting back. i mean, how could you? he was so willing and eager and most importantly HAPPY to do this for you.

hajime cant drive motorcycles and you constantly tease him about it, which he just responds to you by squeezing your cheeks together so you could shut up. the bad thing about this is that you guys always have to walk or go on a bus to the specific place you’re going to which is pretty tiring at times. although that doesn’t matter because what matters is that you both have each other.

back to the overprotective part.. you got called by this boy to meet him at the rooftop by the end of school and you already knew what was about to go down because of your shoujo manga reading sessions. the first thing you did was call hajime and he immediately got there to warn you about what you were gonna get yourself into.

“don’t you already have someone you like??”

“uh.. no?”

“i couldve sworn you liked that ‘tora dude..”

“keep your mouth shut!”

“…so you’re gonna reject him right?”

and you did! nicely, of course. hajime advised you should make come off as mean so he wouldn’t bother you again but you just ignored him and pretended like you didn’t hear anything.

being his best friend contains some ups and downs, but that’s the point of true friendships— it’ll never be perfect.

[austarus]

HR Wells x Reader - Reversal of Denouement

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes​ for being my beta reader.

Word Count: 8251

MASTERLIST

A low groan left HR's lips. His body felt numb, his chest ached - tingled as his heart beats steadily. Is it beating? The darkness of his eyelids eased the stinging coming from his mind – it wasn’t so bright. The headache formed there. His body screamed at him as the novelist made the slightest of movement. His left shoulder in particular had protested in desperate agony. He couldn’t move it very much, the area succumbed to restraints of some sort. HR’s throat felt raw as his body throbbed, the blood coursing meticulously through his blood vessels. The sound of a soft voice greeted his ears, but his eyes refused to open.

"I... you, HR... even if... see it." The voice was so familiar, so gentle. So sweet. "Should... better." A drop of water hit his numbed hand, static still prominent there from the little movement his body had done. “I wish…” The dark-haired doppelganger could only understand fragments of what the speaker was saying. He felt a pressure on his hand, tender skin holding onto his before something tickled his forehead. Feather-light. What was it? Who was it? A few moments passed and he heard nothing, the novelist only assumed that the voice’s owner had left. He didn’t want to be alone right now though, not with the darkness.

It had become unbearable.

Since... Since when did…? How...? Oh. Right. Savitar... Am I dead? Is this where spirits wait for their turn to pass into their designated afterlife? Have I really...? Events from earlier resurfaced to his mind, his senses coming together. Right, had to protect Iris. For Barry – it was my fault Savitar had gotten to her. My big mouth. Even if Barry didn't really see me as a helpful friend. At least... At least I proved Savitar wrong, who ironically is a version of Barry. That's hella twisted. He huffed out a breath before venturing back into the calmness of sleep. Maybe a little more rest will help?

***

HR cracked an eye open: this time, harsh filtered light had greeted him. The novelist grunted in pain, adjusting himself slightly to assess where he was. What day was it? What was the time? How long have I  been here? A yawn left his lips this time, his throat and mouth as dry as a desert.

“Well look who finally decided to wake up?” HR’s eyes met Cisco’s, who stood with a tablet in hand. “How’s sleeping beauty feeling?”

The Wells doppelganger cleared his throat. “Like I’ve gotten assaulted by an Amtrack bus, and not the good kinds.” HR’s baby blue eyes scanned the room, landing on the flower vase that was set on a table near him. Blue forget-me-knots and pink hydrangeas stood proudly in their vases, nurtured well. HR felt his heart swell, his eyes not daring to leave the delicate petals that accented the med bay in better tones. Cisco handed him a cup of water to which HR downed it immediately.

“Amtrack does trains.”

“Not on my Earth, Francisco.” The author couldn’t help but ask, his eyes lingering on the flowers once more. “Did Tracy bring those?”

Cisco pursed his lips, an odd look present on his face. He wanted to tell HR, but… “No. Um, she didn’t.” Tracy had been visiting, though it had become some sort of a nuisance to all her complaining at this point. She hadn’t even known HR for that long, anyway.

“Oh?” His shoulders dropped subtly in disappointment. “They’re beautiful, I was just wondering and…”

“Let’s just say, a special someone’s been… dropping by and bringing a new flower each day. That’s all you’re getting from me, Aurora.” Cisco reasoned with the Wells doppelganger. The mechanical genius knew, but it wasn’t his place to say. It killed him, but… “I wouldn’t move around too much, if I were you. You’ve got a fractured shoulder and that chest wound. I’ve been told to relay the message that you’re to be on strict bed rest until that shoulder further heals.” HR lowered his gaze to see the cross-body sling. He clenched his slinged hand and unclenched it to bring some feeling into the limb.

“What about my chest?”

“Miraculously, that’s been healing really well since day one.” Cisco kept the talk real, showing the injured doppelganger the schematics and pictures. “You got lucky that it missed your heart by a centimeter.” A stab wound like that should have… I wonder if she knows that I know.

HR blinked at the seriousness in his injury, the looming idea of death from his decision. “How long was I out?”

“A week and a half.”

“What?” HR’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I-”

“HR!” Tracy’s sudden voice pierced the room, stunning Cisco and triggering an ache in HR’s head. The grad scientists shuffled over to him, both forgetting that Cisco was in the room. “HR, my love, how are you? Are you feeling okay? Is there any pain?” He continued checking his friend’s vitals and adjusting dosages to the IV and morphine administered – as per your request. The room was growing ever louder with HR and Tracy. Tracy embraced him, minding his injuries as she continued to fuss over him. It made the Wells writer smile, yet… his heart didn’t swell as much as it used to.

Odd.

Cisco sent you a quick text while the two were preoccupied, but you were already at the Labs. You stopped just outside the entrance, the wall and dimly light hallway obscuring you from who remained in the med bay. They wouldn’t be able to see you from where you stood.  A shaky breath left you as you clutched the Freesia flower in hand. Your heart shriveled in your chest as you backtracked. Hearing his voice is enough. After all, with Tracy around you couldn’t be near him – those dirty and hateful looks she’d send you. Best to keep my distance, I guess. You couldn’t help but sneak a peek at him though, the man who had unknowingly captured your heart and would never reciprocate your love. You pushed down the lump in your throat. Hastily, you sent Cisco a text to check on the flowers. Silently, you trailed away from the med bay and to the upper levels of STAR Labs. I wonder if he liked the flowers. Standing at such altitude with the wind blowing lightly had calmed you a bit. Looking down at the flower, you gripped it tightly before you began to pick off the petals one by one. The little moments you had with the goofy novelist surfaced to the forefront of your mind with each petal you held. Your little curious escapades. The little talks. The nights you’d visit him when Tracy wasn’t around.

“He loves me, he loves me not,” You murmured, a stray tear trickled down your cheek. The freesia symbolizes unconditional love and honor. “He loves me, he loves me not,” Your voice cracked as more tears fell. “He loves me, he loves me not…”

***

A frown presented itself on HR’s lips as he tilted his head to crack his neck. The crack relieved him tremendously. It didn’t make sense. The novelist mused to himself, setting aside the current chapter draft he was working on. The voice I heard was… different. It didn’t sound like Tracy’s. HR couldn’t get that voice out of his mind – the tenderness that was laced in the tone of that voice. Nothing like the slight shrill in Tracy’s. He eyed the flowers once more that day, their presence was prominent. If Tracy hadn’t brought those, then who had?

The team had helped situate HR in his room in order to vacate the med bay should another imminent event occur. He had overheard Cisco tell Wally that you were preoccupied with something in Star City – a bit of disappointment twinged inside him. HR had taken up doing bits of physical therapy for the rest of his body without moving his shoulder as much. His shoulder and arm remained in a crossbody sling. The flowers sat on his bedside counter; he tended to them as best as he could with the limited movement he had. Tracy protested that they don’t need to be around, but the novelist was vehement on keeping the plants. HR won’t deny the fact that he had gotten annoyed several times with her around when he needed thinking space for his writing. He couldn’t write with noise and nonsensical chatter, especially if it’s mainly coming from someone who doesn’t want to really listen to his input. She’d go on and on about her scientific research and such, but wouldn’t hear a word from HR regarding his writing. The longer the novelist was confined to his room for rest, the more he had time to think – to contemplate. Yes, he liked Tracy, but… it just seemed that she didn’t really see HR. She does all the talking; she doesn’t really ask about how I feel about things or ask me about my life, even things about Earth-19… It’s like she doesn’t see me for anything other than a pretty face. It’s not even my face that Tracy sees, just Randolph’s. Was I too quick to jump at the first person who showed interest in me? Had I rushed into ‘forever’ with her?

He tabled those thoughts for now. HR reached for his laptop; one hand opened it to start it up. While the device loaded, he grabbed his black-clear glasses and set them on his face. If anyone saw him as such, they wouldn’t be able to tell the physical difference between him and his handsome, yet grumpy doppelganger. Except for the eyebrow scar, but that was obscured by the glasses. HR did a couple of searches with a concentrated look. Surely, it was the person with that… angel-like voice.

“Hydrangeas,” HR whispered as his eyes skimmed over the text that had popped up. “The hydrangea represents gratitude, grace and beauty. It also radiates abundance because of the lavish number of flowers and the generous round shape. Its colors symbolize love, harmony and peace.” The Wells doppelganger scrolled further. “Pink hydrangeas symbolize heartfelt emotions.” Interesting. HR continued his research, glancing at the other flower type that resting in the vase. “Forget-me-nots symbolize true love and respect. When you give someone these tiny blooms, it represents a promise that you will always remember them and will keep them in your thoughts. They are also considered a symbol of fidelity and faithfulness.” A particular link caught his eye, he clicked on it. The novelist read to himself the text once more, “Based on Christian lore, the story about forget-me-nots is that God was walking in the Garden of Eden. He saw a blue flower and asked it its name. The flower was a shy flower and whispered that he had forgotten his name. God renamed the flower as forget-me-not saying that He will not forget the flower.”

HR swallowed thickly; contrary to popular belief around here, he wasn’t stupid. Sure, he wasn’t a science-based genius, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an expert on other aspects of life and had basic common sense. The author was emotionally intelligent and intact with the world around him. These flowers weren’t picked out on accident. But who would do that? Who doesn’t want me to forget about them? The dark-haired man shook his head slightly as he shut his laptop. A surge of sadness welled inside him at the notion of ‘being forgotten’. Who had he done that to? He’d get to the bottom of this mystery in due time. Right now, I need to jog my memory on what I was writing. A hand found a rough draft paper, his eyes scanned over the words he had typed out. His brows creased as the written notes he’d made on the paper as well. (Y/N) … I had… What had I been writing about again? The novelist read each line, each note he had made no drafts and scratch paper.

The hairs at the back of his neck stood up as realization hit him the more he had read on. The drafts, the notes, all of it – the little novel he had been writing regarding his adventures. But this particular part of his story – the ‘angel’ in his story. The one who stuck by him since coming here, the one who had given him a safe space… And the one he hadn’t seen since waking up. How could he forget? HR lowered the paper; his eyes became half-lidded as guilt shot through him. Before Barry had gone to the future and gotten hints of Tracy with her Speed Bazooka, HR had been working on his book. A book that he had pushed off to stick with Tracy and help in any way that he can to make the speed weapon possible. He had gotten distracted from doing the things he loves. A few conjectures arose in his mind as he slipped his glasses off, one arm end pressed to his lips. His heart hammered into his chest; you were among the last faces he had seen before passing out that night.

The irony. How could I forget that (Y/N) was the ‘angel’ in my story?

***

“Look at you, up and at ‘em.” Cisco strolled into the lounge with a cheeky grin. The mechanical genius didn’t take HR for granted anymore, not with the stunt he pulled. No, Cisco willingly checked up on him – not just for you, but for himself. HR had truly become one of his close friends in the end, especially with all the advice about Gypsy. “What are you cooking up this time?”

“Just an omelet with a side of bacon and toast, Francisco,” HR turned to the mechanical engineer who continued to tinker away at the schematics to get Barry out of the Speedforce. He offered Cisco some with a gesture only for the scientist to politely decline. “I haven’t seen (Y/N) anywhere. Um, is she also…?”

“Oh, you know how she’s like. Either up in the vents or chilling in her birds’ nest on the roof. And on that note, our resident hummingbird has become quite the firecracker.”

HR raised an eyebrow at his friend. “How so?”

“She punched Savitar square in the face then decked him multiple times over when Barry brought him in. Harry had to be the one to pull her away – well, more like carry her away kicking and screaming bloody murder at him. It sounded badass; wish I had been there to see it.”

The Wells doppelganger gritted his teeth at the mental image of Harry carrying you – touching you. The thought ruffled his feathers for some reason.  HR expertly masked his irritation, turning the stove off and assembling the food on his plate. “Why?”

“Because he hurt you, HR.”

“…”

“He almost killed you.” And that was unforgivable, especially to her. “We almost lost you. She almost lost you.”

A rough sigh escaped HR as Cisco had sent him a knowing look before exiting the STAR Labs lounge. The Earth-19 man chewed on the inside of his cheek. Only a fool would misunderstand Cisco’s subtle intentions. HR knew what he had to do – he’d been reflecting on his time here, thinking about the people around him, about the relationships he’s formed. The novelist glanced outside – the sun shined, the birds chirped, and the trees rustled with the wind. 

And the world continues to move on.

***

“When are you going to tell him?”

“…” You tensed at the abrupt voice. You snapped your head up, eyes darting to find Cisco approaching you with pocketed hands in his gray-black jacket. He wore a Bulbasaur shirt. The clouds surged by with the intensity of the breeze. Your hair blew over your shoulders slightly. Tilting your head, you turned back to watch the city. Days had passed and you refused to see HR, content on what Cisco had been telling you. He’d been recovering tremendously well, but… you didn’t really want to hear about what he and Tracy were up to. It wounded you. “Tell who, what?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about, Ms. I’m-going-to-put-my-feelings-in-a-box.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ohohohoho, no. I am tired of the love eyes, the lingering gazes, the pining. It ends.” Your best friend came to sit down next to you with that frustrated look on his face. “I know you have powers.” Your heart stopped in your chest at his accusation. “I know you used your powers to heal HR.” You bit down on your lip, not wanting to validate his statement. Cisco saw “I analyzed the wounds, looked at his healing at a microscopic level. I’m not Caitlin, but even I can pick up a few things. His cells were excelled to heal, but there were residues of your genetic markers at the wound point. You stitched his wounds together, cell-by-cell. My point is: why didn’t you say anything? Your powers are a-”

“-A curse.”

“What?”

“They’re a curse.” You threw a hard look at Cisco, making sure your hands wouldn’t touch him. “I can’t be playing God, Cisco. And… it’s unpredictable, volatile. I could either heal the life in my hands or take it away. I could rip someone ‘cell-by-cell’, Cisco. There’s no ‘in between’, not this time. He got lucky with my powers. He got lucky I didn’t make things 100% irreversible.”

“But why didn’t you say anything?” Cisco eyed the gloves you wore; it wasn’t the season for leather gloves.

“Because I didn’t want to give anyone false hope.”

“You don’t want to give yourself false hope, you mean.”

“…I can’t even heal a plant, Cisco. No matter how hard I tried, it wilted further. It’s a curse.”

“That’s not guaranteed every time, you know. It takes practice – discipline to get your powers to work with you instead of for you.” He nudged your shoulder with his, turning his gaze to the flock of birds drifting through the wind. “You know, he broke up with Tracy.”

“Ok?”

“Happened a week ago. She didn’t take it well and let me tell you. Tracy Brand was livid – the rage and yelling were off the charts. I think she has Harry beat. I knew it wasn’t going to last anyway, it was too superficial to begin with.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to sound uninterested, but deep down you were relieved. You heard a little ring in your ear. You wondered…

“She’s gone, won’t be coming here anymore.

“Ok.”

“So, go make your move.”

You turned abruptly to face him. “Cisco, have you thought that maybe HR doesn’t want to dive into a relationship right away? That… maybe he needs space to focus on himself?” All were things you had contemplated for yourself before.

“And what better way to do that than with a new roommate.”

“Excuse me?”

“Surprise, you’re getting a temporary roommate while we fully fix up things around the labs. I volunteered you since you have the space and the patience to deal with HR.” Your blood froze in your veins.

“Francisco Ramon, I am going to-”

“-Thank me, you’re going to thank me.” He had already breached away before you had the chance to strangle him. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the idea of HR living with you, even if it was a temporary living arrangement. You scolded your heart for beating loudly in your chest. One hand gripped tightly to your other. An audible sigh escaped you as your mind played with the idea.

Shit, what am I going to do?

***Day 1***

Cisco blew out an exhausted breath, setting down another box on top of a box in the guest room. You and the mechanical genius had been breaching back and forth with HR’s things as said novelist was crippled. His arm would take about another four weeks to heal. About 20 percent of shoulder fractures are displaced and may require some type of manipulation to restore normal anatomy. Occasionally the rotator cuff muscles are injured or torn at the same time as the fracture. Fortunately for HR, his rotator cuff muscles weren’t as damaged. This can further complicate the treatment. Therefore, in that time, HR would just be handling the lighter stuff, bless his heart. The novelist entered the room with his black backpack slung over his functioning shoulder – it was the last thing that he could carry.

“I think there’s one more box left,” HR pointed with his thumb towards his back direction, the breach closing behind him.

“I’ll go get it, not a problem. Why don’t you two get started on unpacking, huh?” HR shrugged with one shoulder and stepped away to set his bag down by the bed. Cisco threw a cheeky look your way when HR had his back turned, his eyebrows wiggling. ‘Have fun love birds,’ the scientist had mouthed at you. You flicked him off with a deadpanned look. Instantly you dropped it when the Wells doppelganger turned as Cisco snickered before he breached away. He gave you a confused look, but you waved it off.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For allowing me to stay obviously. And for all the help since I’m, well, a bit tangled up at the moment.”

He was referring to the cross-body sling that clung onto him like a spider. HR rubbed the back of his neck, and you didn’t miss the way his bicep flexed at the motion in that gray short-sleeve shirt. Calm the fuck down, it’s just a toned muscle. You’ve seen things like that before.  The puppy-like smile HR sent you had your cheeks warming up. The gentle smile that made your heart melt all over again. You cleared your throat as you reached for a box. “It’s no big deal, HR.” Undoing the tape seal with scissors, you opened the box- and the first thing you see are a pair of handcuffs accompanied by a silky black blindfold.

“What’s in the box?”

A little noise left you as you shut the flaps of the box, trying to seal it again. The flaps remained downward in the box. “Nope, nothing. Just some clothes here. I’m going to get that one box from the living room.” You had backtracked right into the door, your nose throbbed in response at the collision. “Ow,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing the skin.

“You ok?”

“I’m fine,” your response was quick, but not rude. A deep chuckle made its way to your ears as you scrambled out the room, your heart hammering in your chest. Your thoughts scolded you for being so awkward and flustered around him. Be cool, just chill out… The man you’re hopelessly in love with is just living with you temporarily, it’s not like anything will amount from this. You picked up the last box in the living room, hoping that just clothes would be in here and not anymore kink toys. I mean… I have toys, too. AW SHIT, I HAVE TO HIDE THEM!

HR’s eyes never left you as you made your panicked exit. He let out a little breath before shuffling over to the box you had been attending to. Immediately, he face-palmed hard when he had opened it with one hand. His face felt impossibly hot at what you had seen. She must think I’m an idiot or something. His mind thought back to when you helped him shop for some new clothes then it had gotten ruined from a meta. His hand fell away from his face, the image of your kind grin imprinted in his mind. I am an idiot, though. A fool.

Once Cisco returned, you three continued unpacking HR’s things for the time he’d spend here. The labs were still in ‘piss-poor’ shape according to Cisco and that he’ll need to consult with Harry and Wally regarding repairs.

“HR, how are you showering?”

“Um, like a normal person?” A dumbfounded look crossed HR’s features as he set the plate of sandwiches down. The novelist had knitted his eyebrows at Cisco. He had taken up to experimenting in the kitchen when he wasn’t writing. The tea and coffee were still brewing in your kitchen.

“No, I mean with how your shoulder is injured,” Cisco snuck an evil look at you, you returned it with a glare, “must be hard handling it alone.” You knew exactly where this dumbass wanted to take this conversation, so you stayed silent as to not get caught in the crossfire.

HR thought to himself for a moment. “Just a bit, but I’ve gotten used to the mild discomforts and pain. I can mostly reach everything thanks to my long limbs. But I think the nice thing is that it’s an internal issue, not an external one. An external injury or wound would require me to really have help with showering that way the area doesn’t get infected or irritated with the contents of soaps.” A laugh fell from his lips, but his mind wondered what his friend was playing at while you were around.

“I’m just saying, if you ever need a hand well,” Cisco trailed off with a smirk, chomping on his third sandwich.

Oh, I see. Devious, but a futile effort. “I’ll make sure you’re the first one I ask for help,” HR teased with a smirk of his own for Cisco to drop his in disgust. A cough escaped you, which had HR’s eyes land on you. Your eyes met for a moment before you deviated your gaze. HR felt hypnotized for a moment. Hm… The engineer quickly recovered from HR’s snide remark.

“Alright kids, I’ll be going now. The labs require some diligent work that I, a capable and distinguished engineer, could only do.”

“Yet, we still have the occasional security issues,” You sipped your tea once the snarky comment was out. HR stifled a chuckle, but you heard it. The corners of your mouth lifted slightly at the notion.

“Hey, that’s not fair. They always come up with something new to invade our space by.” Cisco pointed a finger at you, mocking a hurtful expression on his face. It dropped into a sneaky smile. “Make good choices and always use protection, you two!” He breached away before you could throw your cup at him.

***Multiple Days Pass***

Through his time here, you noticed HR fueled to write what’s on his mind in the guest room. You could only assume that he continued his adventure story. Sometimes he would venture out for some coffee or take a walk to give his creativity a break. Keeping that in mind, you gave HR the space he needed as well as all noises to a minimum. You knew he liked the quiet atmosphere to pour his heart and soul into words as he did research for a scene. Pulling your jacket on, you compiled a list of groceries before you stepped out of your apartment. Locking the door, you headed out to the store picking up a few necessities as well as some snacks for HR. Like Harry, the novelist can easily lose himself in his task – which meant that he tended to forget about eating and such. You found a bag of Jitters coffee beans, adding it to your cart of items. Buying some snacks and fruit, you’d leave a note in the kitchen of the snacks when he emerged from his writing cave.

On the way back, you stopped by at Iris’ studio to check up on her. A few groceries for her as well were in hand. Cecile and you did your best to visit Iris. But you can’t deny that you blamed her to a certain extent. Had she spoken up once she had left Savitar’s place disguised as HR, HR wouldn’t have been hurt that night on Infantino Street. Surely, she could have contacted her father or Cisco or something. The transition could have been smoother. HR wouldn’t have been… The journalist was faring; she pushed through the pain and as Barry had told her ‘to keep living’. So, Iris did. She hadn’t been herself since Barry went into the Speedforce – she pushed too much, the smile wouldn’t reach her eyes sometimes. You sympathized; she lost the love of her life. But you almost had too.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, just… taking it one day at a time.” You nodded at her response, a small smile on your face. “How are things with you and HR? I heard of the temporary living conditions.”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m in my bubble and he’s in his doing his writing.”

“Right. Nothing going on whatsoever?”

“Iris.”

Iris set her cup of hot chocolate down and raised both hands in mock defeat. “We all saw it. We all see it.”

“See what?”

“How smitten you are for him.”

“I’m not-”

“-Don’t say you’re not. If you weren’t you, Harry wouldn’t have to pry you off Savitar before you clawed his eyes out.”

“…” You just looked into your tea, the honey that settled at the bottom. Iris placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t look at her.

“The heart will want what it wants, (Y/N). Pushing your feelings into a box and denying it out loud won’t change things.”

“I know.”

And my heart wants him, over and over again. Even if he can’t see me.

***

HR tapped his pencil against the desk at a steady pace. His mind wouldn’t focus on the words in front of him, on the scene he wanted to set. Instead, it kept drifting further from it. Further towards you: your eyes, your smile, the kindness that you held; the serenity that your existence held as the world continued to turn and chaos had unfolded at each turn. HR didn’t see much of you while he was here, the novelist missed your company. You were here, but you weren’t really here. You were either in your room or at the balcony with a book or on the couch with your Switch. He didn’t want to bother you, but… sometimes HR just wanted to sit beside you and pull you close to talk. To hold you in his arms and ask you about your day, to understand what you were thinking. HR cracked his back in a stretch from where he sat on his bed, being mindful of his injured shoulder. It didn’t hurt as it had originally done a few weeks back. The Wells doppelganger noticed that you were careful to avoid touching him or him touching you. Not even a hug that you used to graciously give him. You were especially guarded with your hands. A rough sigh left him as he threw his pencil down. The frustration was setting in, he was getting nowhere. You consumed his thoughts. HR wondered if you were revolted by him but doesn’t verbalize his thoughts to you. He didn’t think you’d give him your truthful answer. Maybe she is revolted by me. She did find the cuffs and the blindfold… No, she knew about the cuff stage thing well before that.

The sound of the front door greeted his ears followed by the soft tune of music. A frown made its way onto his face. Might as well take a break. HR stretched once more when he fully stood up, a little noise of relief left his lips. He cracked his back once more before smelling himself. For safe measure, the novelist sprayed a bit of cologne on himself and turned off the candle he had on. He mentally noted to take a shower after dinner since his last was yesterday. He liked the feeling of being clean, to be honest. HR carded a hand through his hair. I need a haircut soon, too. Yeesh, I feel like I’m letting myself go. Once I’m all healed it’s back to proper cuts and the labs’ recreation room. He wanted to go back to lifting weights and doing yoga for body stability purposes – especially now because of his shoulder. HR rested a hand on his chest, the wound had healed completely, but a scar remained. Upon entering the kitchen, he saw the groceries on the table and heard you whisper along with the lyrics. The music was set to a low level that your whispers were audible enough. He watched you sway a bit with the tune.

So please don't break my heart

Don't tear me apart

I know how it starts

Trust me I've been broken before

Don't break me again

I am delicate

Please don't break my heart

Trust me I've been broken before

The guitar tune pulled at his heart, feeling the raw emotion behind the lyrics. He eyed you for a moment. HR cleared his throat to make his presence known, he knew you didn’t like to be snuck up on. However, a little gasp left you from where you were. “You went out shopping?”

You looked up from where you crouched to put away the cereal. “Uh yeah, we were running low on some stuff.” You shut the cabinet and went to the other items you had bought. The music continued to delicately play.

“Need any help?”

“Um, sure. Uh, just set these into the cabinet on the left.” Normal, be normal. He’s not going to eat you or anything. Distance is good. Distance keeps you safe. You didn’t meet his eyes, the eyes that’d pull you in and never let you out – your heart shook with him here and the song that played. You were hoping HR wouldn’t come out while you prepped dinner to have a sort of peace of mind. The next song played before you could stop it-

My last made me feel like I would never try again

But when I saw you, I felt something I never felt

Come closer, I'll give you all my love

If you treat me right, baby, I'll give you everything

“I like this song,” HR started as he was finishing up with putting his side of the groceries away. Another guitar-like song that brought out the soft feelings of love and rejection. HR mused to himself if fate had planned this out. If this was some sort of sign or a cruel joke… You had stopped yourself from clicking the button to skip the song at his comment. You don’t know what possessed you to let him indulge in another song that you’ve cried to late at night. “Hey, I can cook dinner tonight. I have something I’ve been wanting to try. I’m not that crippled so I can manage with a few cookware.” HR chuckled to himself, a goofy grin on his face. Your heart leapt in your chest; his grin caused a small smile to pull at your lips. “You can wash up first?”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes meeting his icy blues. You felt your cheeks warm up slightly as the nerves crawled up your spine. “Oh, ok. Cool, yeah. Can’t wait to see what you cook up.” You nodded, ducking your head away and shuffling out of the kitchen with that shy smile on your face. You missed the longing look he had sent you as you fastened your steps to head to your room.

God I love that smile. What goes on in that little head of yours? We used to be so close… before Tracy came into the picture. HR pulled out the spices and the chicken breast. He shook his head and proceeded to prep the food with his one useful hand. I need to consult Francisco.

***

“We need to talk,” HR’s voice broke the silence in the side lab of the Cortex. He had breached to the labs using the Breach Extrapolator after he had showered and such. His damp hair was pushed back in HR’s normal style.

“About what?” Cisco raised a concerned eyebrow at the writer, stopping what he had been doing.

“(Y/N).”

A nervous laugh left Cisco as he went back to attempting to make the necessary modifications to the Speed Bazooka. Tracy was reluctant to help the mechanical engineer after the breakup. “What about (Y/N)?” Cisco put down his screwdriver. “Did you do something weird to her?”

“What? No! I- we used to be closer. We always talked, we’d hang out after a long day here at the labs.”

“Uh huh.”

“And, maybe it’s just me, but things have changed.”

“How so?” Cisco was wondering what conclusion HR was leading himself to.

“Things changed when Tracy came into the picture.”

Cisco made a little ‘o’ with his mouth with a little nod before closing it. He pushed a rough sigh past his lips, he was getting really tired of this puppy love game. “Why do you think that?”

“Francisco, she flinches when I get close – almost when I touch her… Does she hate me?”

“I think you and I know the answer to that one. But I think the real question should be: Why do you care so much? Why does it bother you? Do you love her, HR?”

The novelist tensed a bit. “…” HR pursed his lips as Cisco walked around the table that the speed weapon was mounted on. Blueprints were scattered on one table while the glass board held variables and equations he could not decipher. “What?”

“I said what I said,” the mechanical genius smoothly responded. One look at HR and Cisco knew that he was baffled by his forward words. But they needed to be said. “Now run along and use that head of yours to think about what your heart wants. Barry isn’t going to get himself out of the Speedforce.”

***

Cisco’s words mulled through HR’s mind as he breached back to your apartment’s living room.  Only the lamp light on the side table was on. HR’s eyes landed on you, who laid on the couch with the book you had been reading on the back ledge of the couch. The novelist took off his shoes and set down his bag. He had detoured to the bookstore, looking for the next installment of your current book. The Wells doppelganger had assumed you didn’t buy it yet as it was vacant from your bookshelf. The gentle giant stepped silently closer to you; the dim light cast over you like a glow. There were slight bags under your eyes. She hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Spotting a large and fluffy blanket near, HR grabs it and lays it on top of you. He remembered you mentioned to him prior that you easily get cold, especially at night. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, HR contemplated something before his body moved impulsively. The novelist placed a gentle kiss on your forehead; his lips lingered for a few more seconds. Pulling back, HR watched your chest rise and fall.  He turned the light off and stumbled over to his room with his phone light guiding him. He knew what he was going to write. Cisco’s question pestered him enough though.

Do you love her, HR?

HR took one look out his door before shutting it, his heart squeezed tightly in his chest as he whispered, “Goodnight, my angel.” Only the shadows that lingered were a witness to the fondness laced in those simple words.

***

You woke up with a start, you hand instantly smacking right into your chest. Heavy breaths left you as your nerves were in overdrive. Cold sweat beaded your skin as you gasp for air. It was another night terror – the same one for a few weeks now; a new way in which you caused HR’s death. Swallowing thickly, you screw your eyes tightly shut and whisper the mantra that calmed you down. After a few minutes, you started to regain control of your breathing – the thoughts that ravaged your mind finally ceased like the tides subsiding after a tsunami. You blinked languidly, hating nights like these. They weren’t rare, but they weren’t an uncommon occurrence. Deciding that you needed to step out for some air, you did so with the intent of getting a glass of water from the kitchen. Your fingers found the lights for the dimmers in your room, setting it to its lowest setting for you to see yourself out.

Cracking the door open, you were instantly met with the scene of HR passed out on the couch again. He’s been doing that for around two weeks now, the couch his new base of operations. His mouth was slightly open as little snores escaped him. A lovestruck smile crossed your features at the sight. Papers were littered around him, on the ground, and on the tables. Must be the manuscript he’s working on for his final draft. I hope I can read it at some point. Coming back from the kitchen with the water in hand you couldn’t help but stop to admire the sight. You noticed the glasses still perched on his face. Moving as silent as a ninja, you inched closer to pull off the glasses from his face. They’ll break if he keeps them on while he sleeps. Then he won’t see for shit when reading things. You nibbled on your bottom lip as your eyes drifted to the papers. One peek won’t hurt anyone. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Seating yourself on the ground, you leaned your back against the foundation of the couch. You were opposite to where HR’s upper body was. If there were any telltale signs of him waking, you’d hightail out before he could fully wake up and process what you were doing. Picking up a small stack, you started sifting through them. Your mind became engrossed with the words – the beginnings of the story he had spun about his adventures as to how he came to Earth-1. Then… mentions of an angel eluded you. It couldn’t be Tracy, could it? I know they broke up, but… on the other hand, it doesn’t mean that he can’t say that she was his angel at the time. Like a character development thing leading to their break up?? Well fuck, I don’t even think he’d mention such a personal thing in his book. I know I wouldn’t… would I? I don’t know. A little smile danced at your lips while you read on about the synonymous things regarding Team Flash that you failed to notice HR rouse from sleep.

“Do you like it?” Lethargy intertwined his words. A stunned noise left you as you clutched the papers. You turned to see HR rubbing his eyes before gazing at you.

I could get lost in those eyes if I stared too long.

“Uh, yeah, its- it’s really good,” you stuttered, setting the papers down in your lap. Embarrassment of getting caught gripped you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind you taking a peek. I don’t have anything to be ashamed of in it.” HR shifted his lithe body to sit next to you on the ground.

“Oh.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“It’s not that important, I’ll be ok.”

“If you say so,” HR’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m here if you want to talk.” You nodded at him, whispering a little thank you. HR ran a hand over his knee, he took a glimpse at you who stared at the papers. He noticed what chapter you hand been reading – the angel was making an appearance in the story. The hair at the back of his neck stood while you thumbed the words on the paper back in forth, just lost in your mind. Your hair was messy from sleep, the bags under your eyes were still there. It killed him how you wouldn’t confide in him anymore. But he didn’t push you. You would open up to him if you wanted to or not, even if he wanted you to do so as so his mind can be at ease with knowing what’s going on with you. Cisco’s question sprang up in his mind once more before he licked his lips, his eyes watching you. “I do.”

You gave HR a strange look. I do, what?

“Tracy wasn’t her.” Realization struck HR the more you whispered with him.

“Huh??”

“I heard this voice before I woke up.” The novelist fully turned to you with intense eyes, the enlightenment in them – the fire that burned brightly. “The tenderness in it could rival any tasteful delight in the multiverse.”

“A voice?”

“Mm, it made me think that only a heavenly deity would have such a voice.” You remained silent as he spoke. “I never got to hear that voice since my coma… until now?”

You tensed at what he was insinuating. “Now?”

“How could I forget?”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“How could I forget about you?” The baritone huskiness in his voice made you melt with the way he said those words. You swallowed, trying to calm the butterflies that raged in the pit of your stomach. “The flowers that were left – beautiful, delicate, yet meaningful. You left those after visiting me.”

“…”

She didn’t deny it. “But you never visited when I was awake because of Tracy.”

“She hates me.”

“And I was too blind to see that until I broke up with her, she threw quite a fit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you must have loved her so much that it would be hard to let go.” She was your angel, after all.

“She didn’t even know me. Truly know me.”

“… Did she hurt you?”

“Slightly, but the bruise is gone.” You and he were silent for a moment. Only the sound of a distant car horn was heard from the streets. “You didn’t deny it.”

“Deny what?”

“The flowers, the visit…” HR licked his lips as a rough breath left him. His nerves were climbing, but he needed to do this. “Cisco told me what you did to Savitar when you saw him. How angry you were that Harry had to pry you off him – I was so angry.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know then… but I know now.”

“And?”

“Tracy was never the one written in my story – she didn’t care. She didn’t see me for anything other than a pretty face obsessed with coffee. You did.” HR tucked your hair behind your ear, carefully gauging your reaction. He saw how you tried not to flinch away from him. “Do you hate me?” He asked as he retracted a hand from you, happy that he was at least getting through to you.

“Never could I feel such a way towards you.” You hesitated for a moment before testing the waters. You started to explain, “I- the night you were stabbed by Savitar I… I just broke. I pushed Tracy away, I had Barry rush you back to the labs. You were dying, unconscious on the gurney and… I got to work trying to resuscitate you. I had Cisco take care of Tracy while I worked, I needed space to think clearly, but I couldn’t. When- when the others were preoccupied with Iris’ appearance, I used these powers.” It was now or never. “I was desperate. Your life was hanging by a thread- I didn’t think it was going to work, but nothing else was working. You were bleeding so much. But I had to try. I…” Your glassy eyes locked back on his, your hands pulled close to your body. HR understood now why you never tried touching him. Why you are avoiding getting too close. “Cisco found out, he confronted me. But these powers, life isn’t guaranteed. They’re volatile, unprecedented – regardless of how I feel in the moment the balance can tip between giving a life and taking one.” There was a tightness in your chest as your voice cracked, “I’m cursed, I could hurt you.” I’m dangerous.

“I don’t think you will.”

“You don’t know that!”

“But I do,” HR reached a hand out to hold yours. Tension filled your heart as panic started to settle. “You wouldn’t let yourself hurt me. It would pain you too much.” HR squeezed your slightly shaky hand, his other hand still bound by the cross-sling. “My life is in your hands.”

“How can you trust me so much?”

“Because love cannot be built without a foundation of trust.” He placed a sweet kiss on the knuckles of your hand. “And understanding.” He took the other and kissed it, baby blue eyes shifted back to yours with such intense emotion. The adoration that filled the author to the brim for you. Just for you. Only you. The one who saw him for everything and anything that he is. His safe space – the one other thing he wanted to be for you as well. He wanted to eliminate any fears that resided in your heart, the pain and doubt that remained.

“Do you hate me?”

HR cupped your cheek tenderly as he leaned close, your heart wanted to stop as blood rushed to your cheeks and ears. Your half-lidded eyes shut slowly as his lips skimmed over your own. “Never in my life, angel,” the novelist whispered as he captured your lips in a tender and sentimental kiss.

Never in my life could I hate the one who my heart has yearned for.