#were going to be made/melted in the oven and he got so PISSED at this news

[kawaiianimeredhead]

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[herlondonboy]

Oh, My, Love Is A Lie

pairings: Taylor Swift x gn!reader / Taylor Swift x Joe Alwyn

summary: The one where Taylor falls out of love with you and in love with her PR boyfriend.

warnings: PR relationships, lmk what else. Is it weird that it’s Joe? idk. No way in hell am I writing about yk who though

word count: 0.9k

You were at home again.

At home alone whilst Taylor was off gallivanting with Joe. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Joe, he was nice and shared a few qualities of your own, it was that he was going on dates with your girlfriend. The part that probably pissed you off the most was the fact that when Taylor’s team had suggested a fake boyfriend to divert everyone’s attention from the two of you she agreed instantaneously.

You knew she wasn’t embarrassed by you per se, but the fact that she had already made up her mind on the matter before she spoke to you about it hurt.

Four years together were ruined by a photo of a kiss on the cheek that Taylor blamed herself for. She had let her guard down and loved you in public and now you were both paying the price.

The soft hum of the television was the only sound apart from your rapid beating. You stared down at the velvet box in betrayal before opening your phone to the messages from the night before, double-checking the time you had agreed on.

You: Are we still on to celebrate tomorrow?

Taylor: Yes, of course!! 10 pm, right?

You: Yep. See you then, I love you!

Taylor: Love you

You looked at the clock on your phone and sniffled, 00:13. It wasn’t even your anniversary anymore. A sigh sounded and you stood to go to the dining room. The dinner you had made Taylor was still on the table so you moved it to the oven just in case she got home and was hungry.

Next, you made haste with removing the wax that had melted onto the table. They Taylor’s favourite scent and you sniffled in remembrance before tossing them into the bin.

The television was still on as you found the bedroom. Plastic rose petals littered the floor in a way that looked random, but was anything else. You wondered if she’d even notice if you left before she got back. Probably not. You put the petals back into the bag that they came in and chucked them on the bed before walking over to the wardrobe.

You didn’t blame Taylor. You were nobody and Joe was somebody. Okay, maybe you did blame her a little bit. But she had fallen in love with someone who didn’t even love her back whilst the person that did love her watched from their home.

Four years gone. And for what? She let her insecurities get the better and now you were insecure. Constantly blaming yourself for being the reason she latched onto Joe. Had you seen the cameras sooner, she wouldn’t have kissed your cheek and she wouldn’t have needed the PR relationship in the first place.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door creaking open and a small curse followed by skin slapping against the floor, “y/n, baby, are you awake?” She called out and you walked back into the lounge, frowning when she grinned at the sight of you. Taylor saw your look and pouted, walking over to you, “I’m sorry that I missed our date. I just got a little carried away at the studio.”

“It wasn’t a date,” You said softly, looking up at her, “And I wish that was true, but photos of you and Joe leaving the studio were published hours ago.”

Taylor tried to think of a response before just looking down guiltily. At least she still felt enough for you to feel bad, right?

“It was our anniversary,” You continued, a lump forming in your throat. “And I tricked myself into thinking that you wouldn’t stand me up for Joe on a day as special as this, but I was so wrong.”

“Y/n,” Taylor murmured, “I’m sorry. I lost track of time, but I can make it up to you. I promise, just let me try.”

You let out a shaky breath and looked down at the coffee table. Taylor followed your line of sight and gasped, covering her mouth. Picking it up, you held it out to Taylor, who took it regretfully.

“I love you, Taylor, and I always will, but I can’t be with someone that doesn’t love me back anymore. The way you look at Joe now is the way you used to look at me,” You explained. “And I wondered if you actually got here on time and we celebrated our anniversary would you have said yes?”

The look on her face said all. She knew she was falling out of love with you, too.

“Don’t worry,” You said, knowing that you didn’t want her to feel even worse, “I wouldn’t marry me either.”

“Y/n, that’s not-“ Taylor stammered, “I would- I would marry you. I just… I didn’t mean to.”

Sniffling, you nodded. People don’t control who they fall in love with, unfortunately. If they could, you wouldn’t be blaming yourself. A weak smile graced your lips and you leaned forward to hug the blonde, “I love you, Tay, and I want you to be happy. If that means Joe, then so be it. I’m sure, I’m sure he does love you back. You’re hard not to love.”

“I’m sorry,” Taylor whispered, “I really did love you.”

Can’t you see that your words are hurting me? You wanted to scream at her. She was trying to comfort you and was failing miserably.

[thegodthief]

If you could relive any of your memories, which would it be?

Memories that have come unbidden today:

The time my 6yo daughter went to the sushi bar with me on a Friday night and we sat at the sushi bar and the businessman she sat next to audibly groaned as she climbed into her chair. Only for him to apologize to her when she politely asked him to pass the soy sauce because he assumed she would not have any manners because she was a child. We were sat at the border of two different chefs so the entire night they competed with each other to make the best sushi art for her. I had asked for small portions so she could pace herself and they took full advantage of the steady flow of plates.

The first time that I made a drum sing. It wasn't a true talking drum where the player is able to adjust the pitch on the fly by squeezing the drumhead ties with their body as the play. This was a bog-standard kettle (style) drum that was supposed to just go boom-boom-boom, but once my hands knew the drumhead's surface, I got into the rhythm of it and it made sounds that others were surprised to hear.

I will assume that by "reliving" a memory, you mean to "experience the scenario again as if for the first time". First-time joys that I wouldn't mind forgetting if it meant I got to live them over again:

When I tried the internet ice-cream cake recipe with a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream and the resulting bread was so good that I devoured half of the loaf on the day I made it. (I lost the link but it was to mix 1 pint of melted ice cream with flour in a small bread pan and bake as a normal loaf. But I don't remember if it was 1 cup of flour or 2, but it was a big meme on Tumblr for a hot minute.)

Making biscuits for my daughter for the first time and taking the most ugliest, pitiful, visually decrepit, eldritch horror-adjacent lumps of steaming something ever to be ejected from an oven and placing the tray on the trivet in front of her. To call the drop biscuits piss-ugly would be an insult to a regular body function. When I left the kitchen to mope about it, she waited for the biscuits to cool off enough to handle, got the butter, and promptly erased the evidence of two of them before I realized that it was too damn quiet in the kitchen. She later told me that she thought that I had made them ugly on purpose to make her laugh (which it did), but regardless of what they looked like, they were very yummy and she took a third to share with a friend at school. "The lumps hold the love."

Marching band competition in my youth. I managed to score a critical spot for a combined-school band that was to make an entrance into a particular stadium. Front row. The lead player for my instrument section. That moment when the rear gates were opened and the drums were marking the time and our feet were marking the distance. "Ready to play!" Instrument at the ready. The drum major's whistle giving the signal to begin play. A deep breath as the drums counted the cadence and then.

No. That's all nice and nostalgic, but you know what... if we're gonna replay a day, let's replay the day that my band nemesis and I ditched class to go behind the gym to settle once and for all, who was the better player. Except we weren't exactly subtle nor quiet about it, and almost all the band members joined us to bear witness. And our instruments weren't exactly quiet ones either, so it didn't take long for the principal to find us. He wanted to bust us, but the band teacher, who was supposed to have gone home for the day, had found us first and held him back because some things can't wait.

We had chosen a competitive marching band piece for our personal challenge. The better player could play it from memory, on proper timing, without slowing down for the difficult parts, and nail the superior solo. At first we were going to flip a coin to see who went first, but ultimately we decided that since we had an audience, that we would play tandem, and let our peers judge us.

We played. I knew every missed note and timing fumble on my part. Each time I did, I could only hear his perfect rendition smothering me. The short piece was over. We looked at each other. And to both our surprise, we both stuck out our hand to surrender to each other at the same time. He nailed the solo perfectly. He said that I had kept to the cadence far better than he could, even if it meant missing a difficult note to do so. We actually started to argue about how the other was a better player.

And then the band teacher and principal came around the corner. Welp. Busted.

We were told to face the wall and the band teacher took a show of hands from the audience about who was the better player without getting (or receiving) stink eye.

Our peers said I was the better player, this time. So I got first chair for our section, this week.

We all got detention, but if we spent the rest of the ditched class hour helping food services clean up the multi-purpose room, the detention would be scrubbed and our parents wouldn't be called.

My nemesis, my friend. We were ruthless to each other for competition, but we also supported each other and our section. We both learned very quickly that the way to be a better player was not to tear the other down, but to literally play to each other's strengths. I would never find such steel against which to sharpen my ambition again.

[sometipsygnostalgic]

“Love Day”, a catradora fanfic

I was apprehensive about posting this, because it is a personal gift for @phosphoricbomb​! 

But here is Love Day which is a fic that I wrote in her dms from the very random brain thoughts in my head on February 14th. 

It’s the first fic I’ve posted in many months and my silliest yet. Enjoy! 

Adora was drinking a coca cola, her favourite drink, in the Bright Moon kitchen area. She was banned from the kitchen area, after her first and final attempts at cooking dinner for everyone. But nobody was around right now, so she could drink as much coke as she needed and feel only mildly guilty about it!

Suddenly, with a loud SPARK, a wild Glimmer appeared.

"ADORA!!"

Adora yelped and dropped her coca cola glass on the floor, spraying both her and Glimmer, who would've probably been pissed off if she wasn't already so stressed.

Glimmer grabbed her arms. "Adora... I NEED your help!!! I haven't figured out what I'm going to do for Bow on Love Day!!"

"Love Day?" said Adora. "What the hell is Love Day?"

Glimmer narrowed her eyes at Adora. "The annual Etherian holiday where you show the person most special to you that you appreciate them, through exchange of cards and gifts?"

"Aaaa???" Adora was suddenly panicking too. "Oh no, what? Is that today?"

"YES!!"

"But I haven't got anything for Catra! She's going to think I'm a terrible girlfriend and leave me forever!"

Glimmer shook Adora. "You can't be having a crisis about not getting anything, I'm having a crisis about not getting anything! Just get her... like... a squeaky toy, or your old hoodie!  I need ideas for Bow!!!"

"Um. Get him, uhh.." Adora scratched her chin. "Get him a guitar pick or something."

"Musical instruments? Eh, maybe. Okay well you're shit out of luck, BYE ADORA!!!"

"WAIT NO GLIMMER YOU HAVE TO HELP ME TOO---"

And Glimmer teleported out of the room, leaving Adora alone, to figure out what to do for Catra!!! Adora rushed through her own things to see if there was anything she could give to Catra. Ahah - A SWORD!! Wait no. Was Catra interested in swords? Or was that just something Adora was interested in. But having a sword is the COOLEST thing ever. Or was it only cool to Adora? Would Catra think Adora got a gift for herself? Well it was literally one of her own swords, so was it just a handaway? AaaaaaH!!! Why is this so hard!!!

Adora also looked through her old hoodies. Sure, Catra nuzzled up against them every time she got the opportunity. But was it really fair to give it as a Love Day gift? How all out were you supposed to go for this? In the Horde, sure, being given someone's old clothes was a dream come true!!! Catra wore Adora's old uniforms ALL the time. But these hoodies were ALREADY covered in Catra's fur, and Adora suspected that Catra preferred to steal her hoodies rather than actually own them.

Adora made her way back to the kitchen area, wondering if Catra would instead want to make food, when she bumped into Frosta and Sea Hawk! Adora processed the scene in front of her. Sea Hawk was throwing coal into the oven, like he was trying to power a steam engine.

"More... MORE!!!" Frosta yelled. The oven was burning up a storm, the fire inside probably heating up way past its normal limits.

On top of it, Adora could see several chunks of large metal.  They were being heated up by the gas burner.

"Uhhh.... what... is happening here?" she asked. "Are you, are you supposed to use it like that?"

Frosta laughed maniacally. "We are making GUNS!!!!"

"That's right", Sea Hawk replied cheerfully. "Frosta is helping me make a sniper rifle for sweet Mermista! She always wanted to be a secret assassin, and what better gift than to make her dreams come true!!"

"So is that why you're filling the oven with coal?" Adora asked.

"It's so that the fire on the stove burns HOT ENOUGH to MELT the METAL," said Sea Hawk, "so we can make the gun!"

"You do realise that the temperature of the bottom part doesn't... power the stove, right?"

"Hmm? That's nonsense", said Sea Hawk. "This is CLEARLY where the fuel goes--- Oh dear---"

The oven was starting to MELT from the inside, droplets of metal and paint pouring onto the floor, while the metal chunks at the top had barely heated up at all!

"YESSSSS" cried Frosta. "MORE FIRE!!!"

Adora, not wanting to get Super Banned from the kitchen, ran away before the fire alarm went off. There was no way any advice from Sea Hawk was going to help her make a gift from Catra, especially if they weren't actually able to make any guns for her.

Adora, starting to feel hopeless, wandered into the basement area. How was she going to explain things to Catra? "Sorry Catra, I found out Love Day existed like 5 minutes ago so I got you nothing, here's a hug!"?? She couldn't even make Catra some certified Fake Ration Biscuits now! She was CERTAIN that Catra was going to open another portal as soon as she realised Adora hadn't even thought to gift her anything.

She stepped on something--- and it YELPED, and scratched her leg! Actually no, it didn't scratch her leg, it deliberately drew a taser and gave her a quick zippity zap.

"Ouch!!"

She realised that what she had stepped on was a small robot kitten, which wandered away into the newly built Bright Moon Lab of Robots and Awesome Science, aka, BRIMOLRAS, which was a stupid name, but she wasn't going to argue with  Entrapta.

Adora entered the lab, and saw Scorpia talking to Entrapta animatedly, while she focused intensely on something.

".....so she told me that I looked really pretty in the earrings, and I said 'Thanks, they belonged to my aunt!', and she said 'I hope I can meet your aunt one day', and I said 'That's too bad, because she was murdered by the Horde 30 years ago!!', and I don't know why but that really killed the mood, but anyway, that's why I wanted to give her some earrings too. They're awesome right?"

Scorpia held up the earrings, which were warped copper rings that had incredibly ameteur attempts at what appeared to be wooden scorpions attached to them. One of the scorpions appeared to have a blob on its head and was smiling happily in the way you'd see in a small child's drawing. The other had a spiky head, and was a bit larger, but unfortunately its tail appeared to have snapped off.

Entrapta raised an eyebrow, before smiling. "I think Perfuma will wear them every day :D"

Hmm. Maybe Entrapta and Scorpia could help Adora sort something out for Catra?

The robot cat meowed loudly, and the pair looked up at Adora. "Hey," Adora started, "could I have help with--" The cat meowed loudly again. "Making a gift---" MEOW!!!

"SHUSH, CHEESOID" said Entrapta. "Sorry Adora, she gets like this when she doesnt have Electrical Robo Snacks. Scorpia could you feed some to her?"

"Oh - Got it!!!" Scorpia replied, upright and happily grabbing a thing. It dispensed glowing smaller thingies which the robot cat preyed upon like it was starving to death. Scorpia cooed over it and patted its head, and the cat hissed at her. This didn't stop her gooey eyes at "Cheesoid".

Adora coughed. "Anyway---"

"Are you here because you need help making a gift for Catra for Love Day because you didn't know it existed until just now?" said Entrapta, hair hand pointing up and a smirk on her face.

Adora was stunned but only for a moment because she was used to this bullshit from Entrapta. "Okay, yes."

"That's okay," said Entrapta. "At least four other people have approached me today with the same issue! Thirteen minutes ago, I was helping Glimmer repaint her gift for Bow. Then she warned me not to help Sea Hawk make any guns! I haven't spoken to Sea Hawk yet but I'm 50/50 on whether I will help him make guns."

"I don't know what I can give her :(" said Adora. "I've known Catra for so long, but... we only got together, a couple of months ago." She sat down on a nearby table, shoving aside a couple of grenades to make room.  "I want to make Catra feel important, like she is special to me. How can I do that if I won't even do anything on LOVE day of all things? And, maybe she'll be okay with it, but.... I won't be. I'm not fine with knowing I let her down." Adora sighed, and stared at the floor.

...A tendril of hair patted her on the head gently. "There there!"

Then Adora dared to look up, teary eyed, and saw Scorpia staring straight into her soul with the most sappy, almost tearful expression! "Ahh!!" Adora yelped. "Eye contact!!!"

She fell backwards off the chair, knocking over the grenades. Fortunately Entrapta caught them all, and had room to also catch Adora, pushing her back onto the table, where Scorpia gripped her arms determinedly.

"You care so much about Catra!!" Scorpia yelled.  "I'm so... You're so sweet!!" She started bawling and hugged Adora very hard. "I'm so... I'm sorry, I just have so many feelings right now! I used to feel the same way, but you know her so much better than I do. You're made for each other Q_Q" Scorpia continued crying, and Adora tried to resume breathing. Entrapta stopped what she was doing for a moment, rotating her chair and looking at them both.

"Maybe you can't think of anything to give Catra, because neither of you know what she likes yet?" she said. "I know that Scorpia and Hordak thought they hated kim chi stew, but the first time they tried it, they asked for it every night. Even with me cooking!"

Adora huffed, insofar as it was possible while being hug crushed. "We just... we've barely been able to do anything, I don't even know who I am anymore... I guess I'm still learning who Catra has become, what she likes."

"It's going to take a while", said Entrapta. "Fortunately, I ALREADY KNOW what Catra likes!!!"

Entrapta spinned on her chair and took out a couple of charts. Entrapta was able to maintain so many charts and make so many things in a short time that Adora was wondering if she was living in a parallel plane where time was slowed down.

"See, it says right here.... Catra likes the colours black and red, dangerous new weapons, and cuddling Adora. Underlined in three black lines. She REALLY LIKES cuddling Adora."

Adora blushed. "Wait does this mean a hug is a viable gift then?"

"After doing much research, I've concluded Love day is less about materials... and more about spending time with the people you care about!!! But a hug tends to be a free offering."  Entrapta was rotating slowly on the chair and Adora tried to turn with her so she could see the chart, and was getting dizzy. "Catra likes some material things, and some immaterial things. She loves Melog, who as a cat companion, is both cuddly AND a friend. But maybe she would like something that represents Adora directly, when Adora is not there? Or at least something to remind her of you." This talk was starting to break Adora's brain. Cuddly, a friend, and would remind her of Adora..? She watched the robot cat purring on the floor, Entrapta patting it on the head once again. Its grumpy deeanour reminded her of Catra and Melog. The difference is, the cat wasn't very fluffy, and wasn't that down for cuddles--

"AHAH!!!" A flash of inspiration went through Adora. "I got it!!!" She pried her way out of Scorpia's arms using She ra strength. Scorpia sniffed and wiped her nose. "Alright Entrapta", Adora continued, "Can I borrow... uhh.... some material, some sewing needles, and any amount of fluff you might have?"

"Oh the sewing needles are over there next to the chainsaw", said Entrapta. "But I'm all out of fluff and material, you can steal it from Glimmer's secret pillow armory."

"Great, THANKS." Adora ran out of the room, and then back in again. "By the way is that thing you're working on for Hordak?"

Entrapta looked up from where she had started welding again. "For Hordak? Oh, no. This is my own power suit. I haven't got anything for---" She snapped the mask up. "WAIT!!! I forgot to finish Hordak's gift!!! I only have two hours!" She grabbed Scorpia. "Please help. If I don't get Hordak a gift for Love Day, he'll be so sad---" Adora couldn't stay and hear Entrapta resolve her crisis, for she had work to do. She found Glimmer's secret Pillow Armory, which everyone stole pillows from regularly because they were the softest fluffiest pillows, and got to work!!!

Two hours later, everyone came together at dinner... which was a takeaway for Sea Hawk reasons... and began sharing their Love Day gifts.

Micah went first. He placed a bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table, Angella's favourite. Castaspella and Glimmer hugged him.

It was silent for a while. Then Netossa launched something at Spinerella with her net!!! Spinerella looked up and narrowed her eyes. "A code for Sea of Thieves? Really?" "Hell yes, said Netossa. "We haven't played together since your Xbox Gold expired. Season 7 is SOOO much better Spinny, we're going to sink so many people!"

Bow coughed nervously, bringing out his gift for Glimmer. "I got you... a new cloak?" 

It had a sparkly under layer like Glimmer's current cloak, but it was much warmer, with a fuzzy white collar sewed onto it. It was magnificient, the colours of the galaxy. Glimmer looked so... happy, almost tearfully, and teleported to Bow, hugging him instantly. "Oh-- I got you something too!" she said bashfully. Then Glimmer pulled out.... a SHIELD!!! It was wrapped in a bow. And it had Bow's face printed on it with a wink, in his own art. That was probably the secret work Entrapta helped with but while Adora was autistic she still knew it was a bad idea to tell the world how last minute Glimmer's gift idea was. "It's your SUPER HERO shield", said Glimmer. So... you're safe, while you're protecting people  🥺 ” And then he kissed her on the top of the head, and she hugged him. Hey Tippen, I DO write Glimbow sometimes! The gift giving continued. Swift Wind got a pair of sunglasses for Castaspella, which fit her well somehow. Adora didn't think they were dating but it wouldn't entirely surprise her.

Inexplicably, Sea Hawk gave Mermista a gun. It was a sniper rifle as promised. Mermista blushed, and looked away, muttering something before gifting Sea Hawk a small box, which he stared at with such wonder as he opened it. He didn't share what it was it with the group.

Scorpia gifted Perfuma the little earrings. Perfuma looked SO happy, but she didn't put them on. Then she gave Scorpia a medium sized box, which Scorpia opened. "Wow..." she said, "This is so..." She took something out. "This is Scorpion Sensitive Soap... I thought it didn't exist anymore! And here are a pair of fuzzy gloves and one for my tail--" She took out the gloves and put them on immediately, even though it was really warm. Scorpia looked fuzzier than ever.  "I.. You're the BEST, Perfuma!!" And then the pair cried very loudly and everyone smiled, and talked a bit more loudly as things continued. Hordak looked a bit downtrodden as Entrapta wasn't here yet, but she showed up suddenly, running around the corner. "I'M SORRY I'M LATE" she said, "I WAS STILL WORKING ON IT!!!" And then she dropped a fucking engine onto the table. Hordak's eyes went wide.

"This..." he said, "This is the engine from my designs to upgrade the starship..." "Yep!!" she grinned. "But.. we thought we couldn't stabilize the plutonium crystals necessary for the catalyst..." "All sorted!!!" He stared at her, in disbelief, then pulled something out of his pocket. Entrapta gasped. "Is that a data crystal?" "I heard it's Etherian tradition to give your partners a part of yourself. This necklace... is a response to the one that you gave me long ago." (A/N: It was less than a year ago.) Entrapta had an unreadable expression as she tried to plant the blue crystal in her chest, then remembered she didn't have a power suit on, and placed it around her neck. "Wanted..."

They hugged, it was nice. Tipsy Adora thought it was very cute that Entrapta and Hordak seemed to have found someone who understands them. Catra had been watching events unfold while seated next to Adora, and grabbed her hand, stroking softly. Adora was flustered, and nervous as hell, but now she realised it was time.

She turned around and faced Catra.  And was stunned. She stared at Catra's beautiful face for about sixteen seconds before Catra stammered. "Uh. Hi Adora!" she said, tail flicking and a smirk on her face, amused and intimidated by Adora's behaviour.

Adora blinked. "H... Hi Catra."

Glimmer rolled her eyes. "Disaster lesbians." Spinny and netossa nodded in agreement. Entrapta was counting the seconds, verbally, that it took for Adora to continue. Scorpia was holding her breath, which couldn't be healthy. Bow was just gazing with his Bow face like he was going to start crying and hugging everyone again, which is happening a lot in this fic, but that's what you get when you're gay and sappy and writing a valentines day crack fic for your girlfriend.

"Mm-hmm!" Adora coughed. "So. Catra. I... I've known you for a very long time... and we've changed a lot over the course of that time... and I guess..." Adora sighed. "I guess, I'm starting to realise, I'm still learning about you. And now we've escaped the Horde, now we have ROOM to enjoy life... I have such a hard time figuring out what it is you like, or what even I like! Which is scary... but at the sametime.... kind of exciting. "

Catra's eyes were dilated and her tail had moved around her legs. Adora continued.

"I think, I know enough about you.... to say that for whatever reason, you like me. And I like you. So I thought maybe you'd appreciate it if you had something, that made you think of me."

She blushed and revealed, from behind.... a golden retriever toy! Or at least, that is what it was supposed to be. Some parts of its fur were less fluffy than others and its eyes were mismatched, but they were blue buttons, with black and white dots pained on them. It was so very cuddly and kind of fat. "I know it's not really useful like some other people's gifts... and you haven't asked for a cuddly toy... but I thought, you should know it's made with a lot of love."

Catra took the toy, and Adora waited for her reaction. She wondered if Catra was going to divorce her for such a shoddy gift, especially compared to Mermista's gun and Hordak's radioactive engine that he and Entrapta were now taking out of the room after much begging from Bow.

Catra laughed. She fucking laughed! But after a few seconds of wishing she was dead, Adora realised that Catra was crying. It was a happy laugh. Catra gave adora a hug, kissed her on the cheek, and talked in her ear. "You dummy. Of course you don't know what I want. I never tell you!!!"

Catra drew away, while Adora was enchanted. Catra was smiling peacefully, but then realised she was surrouned by people, and was blushing and looking away a lot like Mermista, as she took out Adora's gift. It was wrapped in several pieces of newspaper and tape.

"Here", she said. "Take it before I change my mind."

Adora unwrapped the gift... it was...... A cuddly cat. No, not just any cat - A Catra! It was a small cuddly Catra, on all fours with cartoonish proportions, like a very chibi Cat. Some parts of the fur were off colour - it seemed Glimmer's Pillow Armory had seen a lot of theft as of late - and it was slightly smaller than Adora's Adoretriever. But it was so funny. Adora giggled, she couldn't help herself, and Catra smiled.

"I thought the exact same thing", said Catra. "Now I'm with you forever whether you like it or not."

She picked Adora up, then realised Adora was too heavy to pick up, so Adora picked her up instead, and they kissed and hugged.

Why did Catra always have to be so cute?

The end!

And this is the fanart I drew to accompany it :)

[13meigo]

A snakes plaything | Fifth year || Sebastian Sallow

Chapter 15 | Feldcroft + Visuals

When Ominis got up and went to Sebastian's bed to wake him, he grabbed Violetta. The poor boy had no idea what was going on. Well, at least he couldn't see the embarrassment on Sebastian's and her face. Both of them were naked since they left their clothes to dry near the small oven in the center of the room.

After some very vague explanations for Ominis, Violetta managed to somehow sneak undetected with a disillusioned spell out of the Slytherin common room. Luckily Sebastian opened the door and she hurried with them to breakfast.

This troubled night was now some weeks past and had school started again. The weather got warmer and the snow started to melt, making a place for all the beautiful flowers to grow and bloom. The spring also got to someone's head too. Ever since the sun started to shine more and more, professor Garlick went even crazier about her plants.

Violetta was standing at a table next to Poppy in herbology. The venomous tentacula next to her reached her tendrils in Violetta's direction. She slowly tried to back off pushing Poppy further toward the edge of the table.

Professor Garlick entered the greenhouse. She had put pink and yellow flowers on her hat. Did she look happier than ever, well did this woman ever have a bad day?

'Class, we have today a very special day!' A mumbling when through the students. 'We are doing excursions! Together with Madam Kogawa, we decide to test your knowledge in flying and in plants.' The professor fluted while petting a plant with giant blue leaves. Violetta looked at Poppy, who was really excited. Violetta also noticed Sebastian looking at her with a smirk. She rolled her eyes at his pathetic attempt to gain her attention. Ever since she made a not-so-elegant appearance in the Slytherin common room and her hot and steamy night with Sebastian, he swirled around her like a bee around a flower. He had been way more alert about her and gave her so much attention that it even confused her at first. It was so unnatural from him but maybe he truly meant his whispered words. 

'You will be put in pairs and you will have the whole day time to search for plants in some areas around Hogwarts and its lands. Every pair will get a very specific map and herbology card of this plant.' Professor Garlick pulled out a stack of old parchment papers from her giant basket. She flipped her finger through it and smiled. Violetta never saw someone be so happy about some plants. 

'I will put now the pairs together! Prewett and Oggspire.' Nellie and Leander walked towards the professor and she handed them a paper. Both looked at it with confused faces. Violetta sneaked away from the table and looked at their paper. The herbology page showed a green plant with orange blossoms that looked like a cat's face. 

'Chinese tiger leave?' Violetta said and tilted her head. 

'At least it's not far away.' Nellie said and showed Violetta her paper. By now a small crowd of students formed around them. 

'It's apparently around Aranshire.' She said and pointed at the marked area. 

'Gaunt and Everleigh.' Professor Garlick's voice echoed through the greenhouse. Violetta looked over to Ominis who stood next to Sebastian and some other Slytherin. 

Oh, Ominis really disliked Lenora. His face turned from neutral to pissed off. She heard the Slytherins laugh. Sebastian laughed the loudest and his deep chuckled made her brain melt a bit. Damn, he really had her wrapped around his finger. 

'I'll be damned!' Violetta heard Ominis curse under his breath and even she couldn't hide her amusement and snorted at his reaction. Ominis stopped and tilted his head in Violetta's direction. Well, he for sure heard it. Ominis continued walking to the professor. 

More and more people got paired until only some were left. The other classmates already had their brooms and were on their way. 

'Ainsworth and Sallow.' Violetta's heart made a jump. Violetta stood next to Amit and looked at Sebastian who sat next to Violet McDowell. The Slytherin squinted her eyes at Violetta.

Oh, she was one of the girls that were always starting rumors about her. Violetta didn't like her at all and she knew that McDowell had a crush on Sebastian, well who hasn't? 

Sebastian was indeed good-looking, charming, and knew his way around girls. Violetta smiled at the thought that none of them knew what was going on between Sebastian and her. Maybe Ominis but he wasn't any threat to them. Sometimes tho his kind character made her feel so appreciated and even gave her butterflies. Butterflies?

'Here.' Professor Garlick said and handed Sebastian and her the papers and a basket. Violetta and Sebastian walked out of the greenhouse and Violetta gave Violet a death glare before exiting. 

'I saw that.' Sebastian laughed and Violetta looked at him innocently. 

'I don't know what you mean!' She said with a smirk. 'What are we searching for by the way?' They stopped and looked at the herbology card. It showed a picture of a flower with long velvety leaves and blossoms with petals that looked like snowflakes. It was called an arctic lover's plant. 

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise and happiness. 

'I know that! My sister loved to pick those when we were small. In which area are we?' Sebastian spoke with anticipation. Violetta showed her page. 

Feldcroft. 

'It grows right behind my uncle's house! We can visit my sister!' Sebastian said with happiness and hugged Violetta suddenly. 'I need to introduce you guys to each other! You will like each other for sure!' With those words, he released her and ran toward the bell tower to the Hogwarts grounds where Madam Kogawa waited for them.

Feldcroft was a beautiful area just in the shadow of the giant ruins of a castle. The region was surrounded by the coast and the wide blue ocean. It was mostly fields and small cottages. 

Violetta flew after Sebastian. The sun was shining but the winds blew cold into their faces. Violetta even changed into a pair of pants. The winds blew into her hair while they slowly lowered their brooms.  

Sebastian pointed at some houses in the distance. Violetta nodded and followed him towards the little hamlet. The houses came closer and closer until Sebastian killed the speed. Violetta saw the plants they were searching for all around the cottages. There were some houses and in the center was a well. Sebastian landed followed by Violetta. The sweet smell of flowers filled her nose and she looked around. She put her broom next to Sebastian's against the well. Violetta looked around and saw him walking to a house. 

'Hey, where are you going?' She asked confused. Sebastian turned around and looked at her slightly... annoyed? Violetta didn't know this side of him yet. 

'I am just going to my sister. She lives here with my uncle.' He said and continued walking towards the house. 

'Wait for me!' Violetta spoke and hurried after him. With every step, she took closer to the house the more she felt that something was off. She felt this electricity in the air. Ancient magic. 

Sebastian entered the door and when they walked in he walked with fast steps toward a girl sitting at a table. He pinched her in the sides and she jumped up with a laugh. Somehow this made Violetta so... jealous. She just stood silently next to the door and watched them hug and talk. Those traces of ancient magic swirled around her like flies. Violetta felt that those energies couldn't be controlled by her. They didn't belong to her. Yet.

Sebastian's sister, Anne released the hug and smiled at him until Violetta caught her attention. 

'Oh! You must be Violetta. My brother wrote so much about you!' Anne spoke with a soft voice. Her face was pale and her eyes dark. The curse really got her in a chokehold. Violetta stepped toward her and held her hand in Anne's direction. Anne smiled and took Violetta's hand. Her handshake was weak but yet her hands were so warm. Sebastian was watching the two girls like a hawk. 

'And you must be Anne.' Violetta spoke, releasing her hand. Out of Violeta's peripheral vision, she saw the traces of ancient magic starting to glow. Something was about to happen. Violetta breathed in and instinctively took a step back. The traces of ancient magic shot toward Anne's body and a pained shriek filled the house. Anne dropped to her feet and clutched her stomach. Sebastian bowed down to her and consoled her. Violetta backed off into a shelf causing some things to fall out of it. With a loud crash a picture shattered on the floor. 

The door flew open and a middle-aged man hurried inside, pulling Sebastian off his sister. 

'Sebastian!' He cursed and held Sebastian by the shoulder. 'I told you that you are not allowed to introduce new people to her! Every notion could cause the curse to hurt her more!' 

'I maybe found a cure to her curse!' Sebastian replied angrily and shook his uncle's hand off him. 

'There is no cure for your sister!' His uncle Solomon yelled. 'When will you learn!' Sebastian's face twisted with anger and he stormed out of the small cottage. Anne looked at her uncle and Violetta bowed down to grab the broken picture. She picked it up and turned it around, expecting a picture of Sebastian and his family but to her surprise, it was a female with white hair. Violetta tried to put the picture silently back on the shelf when she stopped. She had seen this woman before. 

Violetta looked at the picture again and recognized the woman. It was the one from the portrait! 

'I am sorry to cause such a disturbance but who is this?' Violetta spoke, causing Solomon Sallow to curse. 

'Damnit!' He turned around, earning a laugh from Anne. 'I didn't even know Sebastian brought a visitor with him.' Violetta handed him the picture.  Solomon looked at the broken frame and smiled painfully. 

'Sebastian's father, Alfred, and I had a sister, Ruth Sallow. She was the youngest of us three. One day, she just disappeared.' He said. 

'I am sorry for your loss.' Violetta said softly. Solomon looked at her and his sad face turned into anger. 

'Why am I even telling you this? Out of my house now!' He rumbled at the confused Violetta. Even Anne was surprised by his hostility against her. 'Tell Sebastian that his cure is non-existent!' Violetta scurried past him and ran out of the cottage. She felt Anne's sad eyes on her back. 

Ruth Sallow, who was she really?

Why did the ancient magic lead Violetta to her?

Ruth Sallow

If you enjoy the content please leave a vote, add it to your library, and follow to not miss any updates! xx Meigo

[fictionkinfessions]

im feeling sentimental right now but i wanna yap a bit. preferably at my slingshot (purrfurably if you will /silly)

when i first started remembering you i was trying to nail your vibes down, and remember more about our relationship. i still don't remember a lot but i do remember you had some sort of energetic and confident fun to you that is solely unique to YOU and nobody else that i can remember in any of my lives. you remind me of what basic understanding i have of sonic the hedgehog a little (i do not kin from sonic and im not really a sonic fan, it's just something about your silliness and the way you spoke with confidence and energy)

i remember when we were together your voice became so gentle as opposed to when we were out doing things, or in phights. there was something so about you that i can't quite place yet, but i know i valued it a lot.

a lot of people draw you with a long cat tail, but your fluffy bob tail was super cute to me, especially when you wagged it a little. i thought it was super adorable and i loved seeing you so happy

i remember you were competitive and didn't like losing. there was one memory i have where we met up in crossroads with rocket (who, for context of anybody else reading this was part of the main friend group of me/sling/skate as well as sword) to go on a phight and you were super super excited. you were super pumped but when we got there we ended up losing and you got frustrated because you thought you threw the game (which may i add you didn't. it was just an off day maybe, and everyone in the team is responsible for a win or a lose, it doesn't affect your personal skill). you didn't really want to interact with anybody, and i understood that and i just put my tail on your lap and sat beside you in some sort of comfort.

and i don't know how long from that memory it was, but you were feeling a lot better and we went on a date in the crossroads and i was so happy to see you feeling better. i kept trying to subconsciously wrap my tail around your legs as we were walking, and i didn't really realize it a lot of the time hehehe

you were also brave. i am not sure why my memories always pertain to banhammer beating me up or somehow you (in that one memory where we lost the match he kinda slung you across SFOTH and i was like FUUUCK) but i have a memory where i tripped in some sort of way because banhammer was on my trail (i had just shielded Shuriken who promptly was able to get away after i stepped in for support) you shot at him rapidly and then taunted him when he was about to hit me with his hammer... and like, pissed him off. we locked eyes for a second and you gave me this mischievous smile before running away after he made chase towards you. i didn't really process it until later but i really appreciated it (would rather not have a life end with being crushed by some huge object for the THIRD TIME and gods forbid it be by banhammer /silly)

i remember sitting down somewhere. maybe at your place with shuriken and vinestaff and everyone else (who I don't think was there) or at my place (i am unsure where exactly) but i was watching you take cookies out of the oven and oh my gods they were some of the best cookies ever. i loved seeing you smile as we shared warm treats together and absolutely melting in utter bliss at your baking skills

i miss you, and i'd love to talk. and perhaps if you'd prefer not to reach out, hey, i get it. all i wanna say for that is thank you for the memories. you mean a lot :]

i hope i got everything right with this one. what an essay of a 'fession oopsiiiiee. if you see any mistakes noooo you didnt /j

-boombox (#🕹️👾🎸)

x

[sinning-23]

Lonesome Love (Zabuza x Reader)

HAHA bet you fuckers didn't expect me to write for NARUTO either huh??? Well, the villains are fucking fine so ill be writing for them. expect some Orochimaru smut sooner or later

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!

WARNINGS: smut, fingering, cunnilingus, breeding...kinda?, miss you seggs, cum(obviously), sort of orgasm denial.

Fall graces the fields as the leaves begin to brown and a breeze fills the open air. Autumn was always one of your more favored seasons considering most of your favorite flavors and foods became available to purchase. You’d always been one for cooking and baking, especially when he was bound to come home at any time. Your ‘sweetheart’ made a habit of up and leaving more often than not and never telling you when he’d be back or where he was going.  

Despite it pissing you off to no end you and him both know you’ll be here cooped up with whatever seasons apparel and a home-cooked meal. Haku, also often disappeared with him and he was all too grateful when you had new scarves or gloves made for the possible harsh weather they could face where they went. Zabuza had forbidden you from hounding them on their escapades, too dangerous he says. 

So here you stay, rolling out the dough for personal apple pies and stirring a three-person serving pot of butternut squash soup(courtesy of the lady at the market who had far too many squashes and gourds to keep on her own). The cinnamon butterscotch candle you’d made burns bright and fills the space, mixing with the smell of the meal you’ve prepared. You were the crafty, homely type, your decorative pillows and knit blankets adorning your shared hut. You did plenty to give the home more or less a ‘woman’ touch. 

However, being a wonderful home caregiver didn’t mean you were humble and mousy. You, for lack of a better word, were still pissed. So much so that when Zabuza and Haku wandered into the home after 3 months, you only greeted the boy and stared the short-haired male down. 

“Why don’t you go wash up Haku? I’ll fix you something to eat after.” You offer and he nods, your eyes following him to see that he was out of hearing range as well as sight. 

Your hand raised quickly, rolling pin equipped to hit Zabuza over the head but he’s far more trained and quick on his feet than you’ll ever be. He’s got your wrist in his hand now, brows furrowed at your attempt to clobber him with your cooking utensil. 

“You bastard! Let me go!” You fuss, pulling your hand away, eyes nothing short of livid when you gaze at him. 

“Why try and hit me when you know I’ll just dodge you?” He questions, eyes tired but also slightly irritated. Of course, he’s less than thrilled to deal with your antics after a 3-month long mission.

“Is that any way to greet your lover after a long trip?” He questions as you snatch your arm away, nose upturned as you move to put the pies in the oven. 

“No lover of mine ups and leave for months on end multiple times a year! You must think I’m a fool!” You scoff, squeezing your oven mitts angrily. 

He only groans, coming behind you to hold you close. He’s far larger than you remember, his arms giving you a shield of sorts while he manages to hunch over enough to rest his head on top of your own. 

“Listen, woman, I came back and so did Haku. Are you going to whine and be bitter or be happy we’re back and somewhat well?” He questions, now placing kisses over your face. 

You can’t help but melt into him. He knows your body better than anything else. He knows you love his lips on your skin despite him having his face wrapped 9 times out of 10. He knows you love the way he towers over you, holding you close to his body, trying to meld together for maximum closeness. He knows your legs tremble and knees buckle when he touches righttttt here-

You whine, almost instantaneously falling forward, knees weak at the way his hands snake from your hips to under your robe, the fabric falling down your shoulders, collarbone now exposed. 

“For someone to be upset your body seems to miss me more than you think.” He comments, turning you around to get a good look at your face. 

Damn. He hadn’t seen you in so long, but he could never forget how beautiful you were. His girl, falling to her knees over his touch. For him. All for him. 

“Beautiful.” He hums, taking your face in his hand, and connecting your lips. 

He knows you’re busy with your cooking so he leaves you with that. Your wide eyes and practically ready to spread, he disappeared down the hall. You manage to recuperate, taking your pies out of the oven and turning the stove off to leave your soup to cool. Your next task was to get into that man's pants after he just left you hanging like that. 

“Zabuza! Damn you!” You call, turning down every hallway of the hut you lived in to find him. He was damn good at hiding and leaving. That mf.

You sigh, giving up on your search knowing he would show himself eventually. Who did he think he was!? Rilling you up like that then leaving without a word! You shuffle back to the kitchen, seeing a very content Haku waiting patiently at the table for a serving of your freshly cooked meal. 

“How was your trip?” You hum, fixing the boy a bowl with a smile. He bows his head before he begins to eat. 

“It was okay. Learned some new things.” He explains softly, taking his time eating the meal you cooked. Haku was always so thankful when you took the time to cook. Of course, you were all too happy too but still, seeing the joyed expression on his often stoic face was heartwarming.

Zabuza had finally made his way back to you, his distance well kept considering Haku was still in the area and eating. You only place a bowl down, a silent signal for him to eat, he had a habit of not doing that. Once Haku was finished you wish him goodnight after he places his dishes into the sink. 

It's only a matter of time before Zabuza is back on you again, lips melting together as he lifts you and sits you down on the countertop, your legs spread enough to wrap around his waist. You can't help but gasp at the sensation of his body so close to yours. It's obvious he missed you, his movements are erratic as he unties the strings of your robe, pulling the fabric down to reveal your plush skin. He's hungry for you to say the least. 

“Missed you.” He growls, burring his face in your neck, grip on you tight. He's already gone to work with marking your skin with bruises and bites of all sizes, sucking harder in some spots than others. 

“P-Please, need you-” You whine, pulling him in by the waist with your legs. He groans in response. 

You know he’ll give you what you need but you can’t bear to be teased any longer. Your poor body could only take so much. You needed him inside you and fast. 

“No more teasing.” Your voice is serious and he only grins wickedly at your eagerness. 

He soon drops to his knees, gazes never leaving yours as he pulls your underwear off. You thought he'd discard them somewhere to the side but instead, he shoves them into your mouth, his index finger raised to his lips. 

“Shhhhhh, stay quiet for me.” He challenges, seeing the panic in your eyes. 

He knows he's going to make you scream but you pray that these panties would find a way to keep you from practically breaking the sound barrier. He’s definitely staying longer this time, especially when he’s left his girl on her lonesome for so long. He's cruel, but never to you……well at least he tries not to be.

Your eyes roll back when he licks you, tongue warm on your clit. It’s no surprise your legs instinctively squeeze together but Zabuza easily pries them apart again. His hands are rough, caressing the plush of your thighs and closer to your pussy. He’s amused to say the least, knuckles brushing over your wetness as he chuckles at your shiver. 

“Looks like I need to prep you hm? Let’s see if you can cum on my fingers first.” He suggest, taking his time pushing his middle finger into you, then pulling it out to watch you drip onto the counter. 

You whine at the sensation, then again in impatients when he pulled it out. Your desperate and he knows it. Zabuza had a way of making the wait feel worth it. So when he not only pushed two fingers into you but attached his mouth to your clit, you were sure you saw stars. Hips bucking against him, he continues his antics, the parties in your mouth definitely doing their job. 

“Feels good huh sweetheart? You gonna cum from my fingers? Can you do that for me?” He coaches, a mix of your own slick and his saliva dripping down his chin. He was always a messy eater when it came to you. 

You nod, legs whining to tremble when his fingers curl upwards, his pace unchanging as he gets you to your high. 

“Please please please please, please! Gonna Cum! Right there!” You beg, voice muffled from the gag. 

He knows what you’re saying though, and with one last suck on your clit your pussy clenches around him, orgasm falling over you with ease. His face is stuck between your thighs when you squeeze them shut and he only chuckles in response, continuing to lick up your release. 

“That's my girl, now let's work one more out of you.” He hums, kissing you roughly enough for you to taste yourself on his tongue. 

He wastes no time pulling you closer , his dick is already aligned with you. He's eager but still looks at your for reassurance. 

“May I?” He asks, as less of a question and more of a confirmation. 

You nod and when you do he pushed into you, stretching you wide enough to make you wince but filling you full enough to make your breath catch in your throat. His head lolls back as he tries to adjust o having you squeeze so tight around him. He's intoxicated. 

“Fuck, how are you such a perfect fit.” He groans, resting his head between your neck and shoulder. 

Finding a rhythm, your hips snap to meet one another halfway, your grasps and whimpers now more susceptible to being heard since your ‘gag’ slipped out your mouth upon your first orgasm. He's gripping you now, hips and thighs sure to bruise from how he has you help close. He’s more intimate than he lets on, one hand at your waist while the other is intertwined with your own. This wasn't just an apology for leaving..no this was more than that. This was how much he misses you after every single mission he finds himself on. This is for every time he's up and left you, wanting nothing more than to stay. This is to show you how much he loves you, just by being as close add your bodies would allow.

You can feel your body squeezing, your orgasm building up far quicker than you’d hav thought. He notices, slowing his pace down. He wanted to savor this, have you for as long as he possibly can. 

“F-Fuck, no please!” You whine, gripping his forearms as he grins. 

“No, let's take our time. I want a make this last.” He explains, kissing you again. 

The hand that was once at your hips moved to trace feather-light circles around your clit. You can't help but moan, but his lips swallow up the sound. 

“Please, please let me cum.” You beg, legs already shaking and Zabuza can't help but give in to your pleas. 

F-Fuck.” He groans, practically kissing your cervix.

Before you knew it, your second orgasm crashes over you and your legs move to pull him impossibly closer. He's got a grip on your hips, indents from his nails mark your plush skin. He's breathing heavily into the crook of your neck, semi-panic sinking in when he realizes that he never pulled out and his cum was beginning to drip out of you onto the countertop.

Of course, he wasn't going to let you sit in a mess so he's quick to find a paper towel and wipes you up, legs twitching at the feeling of the rough paper grazing you. 

“You didn't pull out.” You hum, letting him raise you from off the counter and back onto the floor with wobbly legs. 

“I know…will you be okay or do you need to see someone.” He hums, hoping it's the latter. 

“No, no, I think we’re ready. Besides when youre away I'll have a mini-me of yourself and me to remind me how much I love you both.” You explain, fingers crossed he wanted the same. 

He nods, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, and leaving to your shared room. He’d be sure to fuck another baby into you just for good measure tonight. 

[finelinevogue]

Can you do something where Y/N is sick and Harry has to take care of her please?

i actually had written something similar to this before so i present you a lengthy blurb;

You were pretty sure if you got invited in to hell it would feel something like this.

Hot. Sticky. But chilled.

You had come down with a concerningly high temperature. Along with the added luxuries of a deafening headache, cold sweats and an upset tummy. Your body was burning all over, as if it had just been freshly cooked in the oven but you felt colder than ice. It was a confusing juxtaposition, but there it was.

You'd called Harry, since he was in the studio recording his new music and asked him to come home early. You didn't even get to the reasoning of why he should come home before he hung up, telling you he was already vacating the premises. You hated to be that needy girlfriend who had to call about nearly everything, but Harry loved it more than anything. He loved the fact that you needed him. It gave him purpose, apparently .

You couldn't work out whether you regretted asking him to come home, or whether it was a blessing. It was a very fine line.

It was a blessing because, he looked after you like a mother would her child and made sure he stood by your side any time you found yourself lurched over a toilet. He made you chicken soup from scratch and even tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot, or salty - despite being a vegetarian himself. He even made you honey and lemon tea, which he had to run to the store for the honey. When you say run, you mean run. He didn't want to leave you alone at all, so he put on his running shoes and sprinted to the shop and back. However, it was a slight regret because of how fussy he was over you. He loved it to bits - nursing to your every need.

You truly believed you didn't deserve Harry. He was just too kind and pure for his own good. You were unarguably lucky. Laying on what felt like your death bed, didn't feel so lucky though.

It was now 10 pm and you could hear Harry turning on the alarm for downstairs, the loud beeping noise preventing you from sleep. That's all you'd done all day. Sleep. You thought it'd be more magical than it was. It was just uncomfortable though, because of how cold and hot you were.

Your much better looking other half trudged through the bedroom door within a minute of the alarm going off. He was only wearing checkered pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt and yet he made it look like Gucci Runway 2021.

The jingling of keys signalled Charlie was also present. Charlie was your 2 year old Golden Retriever. He was beautiful. When you and Harry has moved in together 2 years ago you'd managed to persuade him to get a dog. Within a few weeks of moving in you had a 5 month old puppy running around your house. He was your best friend, no doubt about it. He was also ridiculously photogenic.

"Hey Chaz!" You cooed as Charlie walked over to your side of the bed, where you were snuggling down under the sheets. You reached out your hand to give him some loving and attention. You could tell by the small smile and sparkling eyes that he was one happy boy.

"Alright, buddy. Let's leave mum alone." Harry came behind Charlie to manoeuvre him into his bed, which was in the corner of the room. It was more like a big cushion. He started to whine after being forced to leave you - having not seeing you all day. Harry was strict in keeping him downstairs so not to disturb you whilst you were sleeping.

"H it's alright, let him on the bed. He can curl up on my feet." You sympathised with Charlie, as you always did, hating to hear or see him upset. Harry was like the 'bad-cop' when it came to parenting Charlie, because you were too sweet to say no to him.

"You're one spoilt boy, aren’t you?" Harry messed around with Charlie, before telling him he could get up on the bed to see you. Charlie leapt on the bed and wandered over to give you all the kisses he could, before Harry came to calm him down - as you really didn't have the strength.

"I missed you too, Chaz." You quietly laughed, not wanting to set your headache off even more.

"You gonna let me kiss mum now?" Harry rhetorically asked, but as he came over to you Charlie laid down on you so your face was buried underneath his body. You could feel him panting with his adorable tongue out above you, as he hid you from Harry.

"Someone's jealous."

"Feeling like a bloody third wheel over here." Harry tutted and you laughed until you got hot with the movement.

"Harry? Can you move him please?" You whined as you tried to shuffle around.

"Okay Chaz. Let's let mum get some sleep, alright?" Charlie is slowly removed from you and ends up curled on top of your feet, keeping them warm for you.

Harry slipped into the covers and shuffled his way over to you, putting the back of his hand over your forehead and hissing quietly at the simple touch.

"Baby you're so hot." Harry complained.

"I know." You teased with a wink at him, taking his worry out of context and turning it into a flirting compliment.

"Oh piss off!" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you closer. "What am I going to do with you, baby?" Harry then planted only a few delicate kisses to your lips - not wanting to overwork you and your tired body.

••••

You woke up with drowsy eyes to find you're in bed alone.

Your throat was incredibly dry and your whole body was sticky from sweat. Your pyjamas were damp and your face looked like it'd just been drowned in a rainstorm. It was disgusting. Still, you brought the duvet up to cover yourself more, as you let out a dramatic shiver. Why was it so cold?

Mixed into the background noise you could hear the cheering of crowds and it really confused you, until you looked at the wall and noticed the football was playing on re-run on the TV. Manchester United Vs Manchester City. You hated that you knew that just from their football uniforms, but that's what you get for living with a football-crazed boyfriend.

You noticed Harry emerge from the bathroom, a washing up bowl in his arms. He came and sat down in bed, the bucket of water to his side. "What are you doing?" You quietly asked, peering up at him through tired eyes.

"Oi, you're meant to be sleep y’minx." Harry told you off.

"I can't. I'm too uncomfortable. I'm hot, but i'm cold. I also find it hard to sleep without you next to me." You huffed out in annoyance.

"My poorly baby." He leant down to kiss your forehead, "c’mere, baby." He urged.

He helped you move, seeing as your body was really weak, so you could lay down against Harry’s body. He was sat up against the headboard as you nestled down between his legs, your back to his front. It was a lot more comfortable than before - probably because Harry was closer to you. Charlie noticed the disturbance and waited for you to stop moving around, before maintaining the job of guarding your feet.

Once he was happy in his position he fell asleep again, making you jealous of his ability to do that. Especially now.

"Why's the football on?" You asked, motioning towards the TV.

"Had to keep myself awake somehow." He explained, but it only made you more confused.

"Why?"

"So I can take care of you, y’muppet." His words actually melted your heart - more than chocolate could melt on your forehead right now.

After you'd settled, Harry reached into the bucket and drained out a cloth. He made sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. You hummed in appreciation when he placed it against your forehead, rotating it to the back of your neck also in order to relax and cool you. It made you realise just how hot you were.

"I think i'm dying, Harry." You groaned as the nausea came over you again. Harry kept a firm hold of the cloth on your forehead, dabbing gently and careful to not let any water drip down into your eyes.

"No you're not, baby." Harry gave you a light-hearted laugh.

"Well, living shouldn't feel as shitty as this H." You grumbled, not appreciating his lack of understanding.

“Then just let me take you to the chuffing hospital!" He exclaimed, making Charlie stir slightly.

Harry had been demanding you go to the hospital all day and all evening, but you were too stubborn to go. That, and you were terrified of hospitals - more terrified of needles and blood than anything else. However, you were starting to reach the point where you were giving in to his request, though. It was becoming unbearable to sleep and harder to breathe. You were worried for yourself.

"I don't like it." You pouted like a child, as Harry wrung the cloth through the fresh water again.

"I don't care whether you like it or not, Y/N, I really think we should go. More like need." Harry insisted and you could tell he wasn’t giving up without a fight. You didn’t want that either.

You hated how he was right.

It was only going to get worse from here, and you didn't really want to be alive when that was going you happen, so going to the hospital to get checked over and drugged up seemed like the best option to go for. The more sensible option.

"Fine." You finally accepted, Harry slinking his arms tight around your waist after discarding the cloth in to the bucket. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted an abundance of kisses there, your skin burning just to the touch.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He repeated in-between kisses.

•••••

It took 20 minutes to get in to the car. 20 minutes.

All because Charlie was reluctant to letting you get up and go. So Harry had to dress you into a more appropriate attire, with a dog sat on your lower body. It was then half an hour later that you were in the hospital.

The hospital was quiet at this time of night and for that you were grateful. It was obviously a night where little numbers of people were doing silly things to get themselves hurt. There was the odd patient for a minor cut injury and there were a couple of people in for burns. There was even a woman in because she accidentally superglued her hand to a bottle of superglue - ironic, but painful.

You sat patiently on Harrys lap, waiting for someone to escort you to a cubicle. You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering - your outside body was giving off the opposite temperature. You tried to get as close to Harry's warmth as possible, pushing your body against his.

"You're alright baby." Harry shushed you, as you let out a small tremble.

"If I do die—"

"Which you won't." Harry chuckled.

"I know, but if I did I want you to know that I love you." You told him. Even though he's heard you say it a million times before, it still made his heart flutter as you spoke each word.

"I love you, baby." He kissed the side of your head. "But you're going to be just fine, so no more talking about you dying okay?"

"Why? It's only a natural thing." You pointed out.

"Sure, but I don't want to think of a world without my girl living in it. So zip it before I make you."

You never thought of dying as a world without Harry before now and it wasn't the time to start thinking about it either. It was a horrible thought and you understood why Harry didn't want you speak about it. That world would be so dark and empty and you hated thinking about it.

Harry was called to the front desk to fill in some forms for you, since your hands were too cold and shaky to do it for yourself. He accidentally wrote 'Styles' as your second name, before realising his mistake and scribbling it out.

“Shit.” Harry went red in the face and chuckled over his silly mistake. His hand was shaky and you smiled at how he got so flustered over something so simple. You rested your hand on top of his, bringing his attention to you.

“One day.” You told him and he leaned to give you a kiss on the lips. You couldn’t help but feel like his lips were a future promise to make sure he wouldn’t have to scribble out his second name the next time it was written next to yours.

The doctor saw you shortly afterwards and you thanked your lucky stars that there was no injections or removal of any blood involved, Harry sticking with you the whole time. Turns out you were suffering from a moderate fever, but the doctor said with good rest it should pass. The doctor had given Harry permission to make a big fuss over you - explaining how he was going to love it and you were going to hate it - and to make sure to come back with even the slightest worsen of the fever. You got given a prescription list of various medications that you'd need to take over the next week or so. After collecting the drugs, you were back in the car on the way home.

"Told you you weren't going to die." Harry smiled, happy to have you still by his side, whilst holding your hand over the gear console.

"Unfortunate for you, I guess."

"Will you shut you, y’bloody nuisance. You know I can't do life without you, Y/N." He spoke softly, squeezing your hand tighter to assure you that he's going nowhere.

"Same here." You smile at him and he smirks back at you with his dimple-loving smile.

"You’ll always be it for me, baby." Harry speaks, before you drift back off to sleep.

Happily.

[frankcastleissoft]

Lover

Frank Castle x reader

Word Count: 4,431

Warnings: angst, attempted rape, conflict/tension, and fluff (( but that’s not a bad thing :) ))

__

This new life with Frank was very simple. Not much else to be said about it. You both went to work and came home. Day after day, week after week. Simple.

It had been almost five months since Frank had finished off the last of the people responsible for his late family’s death. You could tell it still hurt though. It stung deep in his core. Like there was a ton of bricks inside of his chest, weighing him down. It hurt you too, to see him like that. Work for him was just a way to let out everything he was holding deep inside of him. He worked at a construction site, tearing down an old building. Sometimes he didn’t come home till dark and that scared you.

You worked at a catering company. You would go to the companies and help cook and keep the food refreshed. Cooking was something you really loved to do, so when you were able to get this job it really helped the situation.

The situation:

Frank was dead. And technically you were too. Not really anyone knew about you, but you had to be dead too. Now you both were living in a small, one room apartment.

You would come home around 5:00pm every day. Frank never beat you home. The last five months had been rough to say the least. Your marriage felt like it was hanging by a thread. You hardly talked and there was always this tension between you two. Some days you wouldn’t see Frank at all. He would come home after you were asleep, take a quick shower, find the plate of dinner in the fridge, then go to bed. You always made him dinner. Without fail. Frank loved your cooking. He was always starving when he got home.

And by the time you woke up in the morning, he’d be gone. It gave you this ache in your heart when you woke up and he wasn’t beside you in the bed that was much too small for the two of you.

So you would get ready for the day, then head out the door for work. It was always the same. Unless on the rare occasion, Frank would be dead asleep next to you, breathing heavily. He slept so hard sometimes it made you worry about how intensely he worked.

Work was long today. It felt like everything was ten times harder than it usually was, so you were looking forward to getting off your feet and sipping some tea, while reading a book. The little things meant the most living like this. The air was cool as you walked along the busy, Brooklyn streets toward home. You pulled your coat collar up against your neck, attempting to warm yourself.

After a few flights of stairs, you pulled your keys out of your bag and unlocked the door. You set your things on the table in the middle of the room and put your coat in the wardrobe that was just small enough to fit in the room. You looked around the apartment. The bed was facing you, across from the door and the wardrobe. In the middle a table sat there with two chairs on each side. To the left was a door that led to the smallest bathroom in history. Then a doorway beside the bathroom led to the narrow kitchen. The cabinet space was limited and there was a small oven and only a little bit of counter space. The Fridge seemed to take up the most room. It wasn’t much, but you did your best to make it feel like a home. Flowers on the table— they were dried up and dead now. A rug in the kitchen, a knitted quilt on the bed, and a few books on the nightstands.

You made your tea, then made dinner soon after. Just like always, saving a plate for Frank. You had finished dinner, avoiding the mess, now sitting at the table, reading and indulging in another cup of tea to help you sleep well tonight. Then you heard a key slide into the lock and the door opened. Frank’s heavy boots stepped in, the weight of his feet sounded like he had had a long day too. He placed his metal lunch box on the table, and sat down to take off his shoes.

“Hey,” his deep voice whispered.

“Hey,” you said just as quietly.

He put his shoes by the door, then went to the bathroom to wash his hands. You watched him from where you sat. His dark hair was getting longer and his beard made him look so different. You didn’t mind it though. Your eyes traveled down to his hands. They were so calloused with so many welts and blistered. More proof he worked so hard.

“I wish you wouldn’t work so hard,” you said without even thinking about it.

Frank turned off the water and patted his hands dry. You knew he had heard you, but he pretended not to.

“I’ll heat up your dinner,” you said, setting down your book and heading for the fridge, avoiding eye contact.

As his plate made its way around the microwave, you stared at it intensely, lost in a jungle of thoughts.

You and Frank had met during his massacre in Hell’s Kitchen. One night (or early morning) you were walking home from your dead-end job at a crappy diner, when a strange man came up behind you, sticking a gun against your side. He casually told you under his breath to stay quiet or you were dead. You felt fear spread through your entire body, not one finger left without terror. You continued to walk, the panic making it hard to put one foot in front of the other. But the man helped you out by shoving you along.

“Wha-What do you want?” you managed to crack out.

“I haven’t quite decided yet,” his voice sounded evil and cold.

Your stomach fell through, your heart pounded even harder. You had hoped he had just wanted your wallet, but now it seemed he wanted more from you.

“Come here,” he growled, shoving you into an alley, no one around to possibly help you.

You let out a cry as he shoved you against the wall, your head felt like it could have split against the brick. You sobbed out little pleases and cries.

“Shut up!” the man yelled in your face.

You finally saw what he looked like and you almost wished you hadn’t. He began to pull off your coat with one hand, the other holding the gun at your stomach. You felt paralyzed. You wanted to fight back, to never let this man take this from you, but you just couldn’t. Once your coat was off, he started on your shirt, a white button down, your diner uniform.

“Oh, hello, Y/N,” he sneered, noticing your name tag. “It’s nice to meet you.” His voice echo through your head. You knew it would haunt you if you made it out of this alive.

At that moment, you heard heavy feet scuffing against the sidewalk outside of the alley.

“Please,” you said a little louder, hoping the person would hear you.

“Shut up!” the man yelled again, shoving the barrel of the gun into your stomach harder. And just then, a large man shoved into the man who had half unbuttoned your shirt, knocking him to the ground. You cried harder, relief washing over you. The big man got the gun from the criminal and began beating him with it. Repeatedly and with so much force, you couldn’t help but stare. When his head was much too beat in to be alive, the big man stood up, looking down at his work. You just stood, melting into the brick wall. Both of your breath was rapid and heavy.

“You okay, ma’am?” the big man’s raspy voice echoed in the alley.

You just nodded quickly, almost scared of your hero too. He turned to look at you, his face splattered with blood. This was all too much. You were just coming home from work, looking forward to sleeping for twelve hours. But there was something in his eyes. They were dark, but full of something you couldn’t quite place. Your mind began to fog up and you felt yourself lose control. Then your legs gave out and you began to lose consciousness. You felt strong hands catch you around your waist, then you were out.

It was dark and quiet except for the faint sounds of cars and sirens. You were laying down and staring up at the darkness, a small light illuminated the space around you. When you were fully awake, you shot up, looking around. For a second you thought you had been taken somewhere, kidnapped, but when you saw the man who had saved you, your fear subsided some; but still wary of your safety.

“Hey,” his voice just as gravelly as in the alley. “You’re safe.” He added, noticing your nervous eyes.

“Where are we?” you asked, looking around.

“An old building,” he replied. “You’re safe here.” He assured again.

You took in your surroundings again, lost in your fuzzy brain. Then something struck you, and you looked back at the man sitting on the floor. His face was stained with bruises. Dark ones around his eyes and lighter ones on his cheeks.

“Wait…” you spoke softly. “You’re Frank Castle. You’re The-The Punisher.”

“That’s what they’re calling me.” he said, almost pissed off at the mention of it.

You felt a bit of fear stir up inside of you again, but it quickly settled. He saved you.

“Why did you save me?” you asked.

“I wasn’t going to just keep walking when I heard you were in trouble.” his gruff voice replied.

You gave a slight smile, thinking.

“You’re not like what the news makes you out to be.” you started. “I mean, what you did to that man was pretty… intense, but you saved me. They make it seem like you’ll just kill anyone.”

“I only take out the ones that deserve it.” he said matter of factly.

You grimaced a little at that; you didn’t know how you felt about his morals. But you watched him from where you laid. There was something about him that was comforting. Maybe it was the fact that he had just saved you from something that would have stuck with you forever, or maybe it was that he seemed like he genuinely cared about your well being.

“Where’s my coat?” you sat up, feeling a little frantic. It was something that felt so important in the moment that it made you anxious.

“Oh, I- I didn’t get it. I didn’t see it,” Frank said, noticing your frazzled state.

“It’s okay,” you sighed. It was just a coat.

“Can I go home?” you asked, slightly pulling the blanket off of you.

“Yeah,” he stood up, a grunt of pain leaving his lips. “I’ll walk you back.”

At first you were going to decline for some reason, but then you realized that was the stupidest thing you could do. You stood up slowly, your head still fuzzy from the passing out.

“Here. You can use this.” Frank laid a big coat over your shoulders.

“Oh- thank you.” you said, caught off guard. You slipped your arms in the sleeves that were too long for your hands to poke through.

“Yeah,” he said under his breath.

As you walked home there was silence between you. You wanted to talk to him though. This all felt so surreal.

Then a loud noise, probably a motorcycle backfiring, came out of nowhere. You were still shaken up by what had happened maybe an hour before, so this sent fear through your body. You let out a fearful cry and grabbed onto Frank walking beside you.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He said calmly. “It’s nothing.” He held your wrists, taking your hands off of his arm.

“I’m sorry,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I’m so on edge. This isn’t my average night.”

Frank gave you a smile. His smiles were magic, his eyes smiled too.

“This isn’t too unusual for me,” he snickered. “Except for you.”

That made you smile a little wider. There was something about him. Had you known him for twenty seconds, or twenty years?

“Well, this is it.” You said, taking a step up to your apartment building, now more level with Frank’s eyes.

He stood there, stocky frame, both hands in his pockets.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, a slight smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said quietly, almost blushing at the care in his voice. “Do you want your coat back?” You began pulling your arms out of the sleeves.

“No- you keep it,” he put a hand out in front of you in rejection. “I lost yours, so.”

You smiled again, putting your arms back in all the way. It was quiet for a little while, just standing in front of each other. The city was mild tonight- well, this morning. It had to be 3am by now.

“Thank you.. Frank.” You said his name, really felt the word, nervous what he would think that you used it. Names are weird to say sometimes… when you don’t know the person very well.

He didn’t respond right away, maybe you were overthinking and it hadn’t really been that long.

“—For the coat.” You giggled, holding the front of the coat with one hand like a model.

Frank snickered, shaking his head. “No problem.” He grinned.

The joke hung in the air for a while as an excuse to not leave each other. But then it left and you both stood there in the silence again.

“Good night… uh.” Frank said.

“Y/N,” you replied.

Frank had seen your name tag, but he didn’t want to sound creepy by knowing your name.

“Y/N.” He said back.

The way his voice carried your name gave you this feeling deep in your stomach.

“Good night.” You replied.

He took a step back and you took another step up.

“Be safe.” He said quickly, then turned away, walking back to where you both came from.

The next night, you were walking home from work again. This time with your pepper spray in hand. As you walked, you felt like someone was following you. You became very aware and walked a little quicker. Then you slightly turned your head and caught a glance of the person. You stopped in your tracks. That frame you knew anywhere.

“Are you trying to get pepper sprayed in the face?” You chuckled.

“Not what I was wanting to happen, but worth it just to know you’re taking safety precautions.” You heard a gruff voice say behind you.

You let yourself laugh out loud, turning around to see Frank in a baseball cap and coat. He was grinning from ear to ear too.

It continued like that. He would walk you home every night. “Just for his peace of mind” he would tell you. That made the butterflies in your stomach fly higher. Those butterflies wouldn’t calm down. Even when you were just at home or at work. Frank was all you could think about.

One night you were at the diner, pulling another graveyard shift. You were in the back filling up the salt and pepper shakers. It had been a slow night. The bell sounded, telling you someone had come in.

“One second!” You called, screwing the top back on a salt shaker. Then you went to the front and saw Frank. You both gave each other bright smiles.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, coming out from behind the counter.

“Had the night off, thought I’d pop by.” He shrugged.

“Oh, okay,” you replied, shrugging too, joking like this was a normal thing he did. “Coffee?” You asked, but already started pouring a mug.

“Thank you.” He nodded. “I’ll just wait over here till you get off.” He went over to a corner booth.

“Okay,” you ducked your head, smiling like a fool.

As things progressed in The Kitchen, Frank walked you home less and less. You knew what he was. You knew what he did. It scared you to think about sometimes. There was something so mysterious about him, but there was something rooted so deeply in him that was just simply good. That’s what you saw every time you looked at him. His goodness.

Frank didn’t tell you much about what was going on, he said he didn’t want you getting in the middle of it; you had a couple fights about that. But you knew about Karen and how she was trying to help him. You were thankful for her. That she was helping him in ways you couldn’t.

He told you about his family. You cried. It broke your heart to hear the way he talked about them. His eyes glossy, his voice growing raspier.

Then he got arrested. You were shocked as you watched the news on the tv in the diner.

As the days dragged along, you felt yourself start to think it wasn’t ever going to be what you wanted it to be with Frank. It was hard to come to that conclusion, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop caring about him.

One day, you tracked down Karen Page and told her who you were and you both talked for hours. She told you about how she was investigating his case. You told her what you knew about him, it wasn’t much at all, though.

She told you as much as she could about his case. It was nice to have her, you both got along so well.

You kept up with the trial through the news, it hurt to see the way he was handling it.

Then he broke out of jail. That scared you. You didn’t know what he was doing.

Then all of the shootings happened. Everyone was blaming him, and you didn’t know what to believe. Karen was quick to tell you that it wasn’t him and that he had saved her. Those few days you were a nervous wreck. Karen wasn’t answering your calls and you didn’t know what to do.

Then the next night— or very early morning, you were coming home from work. You dumped your coat (the one that was really Frank’s) and purse on your couch and headed for the fridge; you were starving. Then you heard a sound in the corner of your living room, causing your stomach to flip. You slammed the fridge door in fear. Then a figure stepping forward, into the moonlight coming through the window.

“Frank?” you dropped the apple, tears immediately flooding your eyes. “Wha-What is going on?” Your voice quivered with emotion. You noticed is bruised and bloody face.

“I gotta disappear for a while,” he said slowly.

“Frank,” you said again, running forward, into his arms.

This was the first time you two had had any physical contact like this. His arms wrapped around your waist so tightly, you thought he could break your ribs if he wanted to. Your arms were around his neck, your face in his shoulder. Blood was probably staining your shirt, but you didn’t care.

“Do you mind if I wash up a bit?” He asked after you had parted.

“No, of course,” you led him to the bathroom.

That was the last time you saw him. The news said he was dead. Some explosion. It broke your heart.

A few days after the news, you learned it wasn’t true. The experience in your living room when he showed up was heart stopping. You woke up around 11am after another late shift. You shuffled into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

“Can I get some of that?” You heard the familiar, gravelly voice say behind you.

You gave him the what-for for scaring you out of your skin. But it ended in tears and gratefulness that he was alive. You had to admit, you had a feeling he was.  

He left the next day, saying he had to finish what he had started. You tried to convince him not to, but he was too stubborn.

About a week later, he came back. He told you he had to disappear, go underground. He had changed his name to Pete Castiglione and he said he couldn’t see you anymore since he was technically dead. It stung. It hurt him too, you could see it in his eyes. There was something about his eyes that always had you captivated.

“Frank,” you said quickly as he stood up to leave, after telling you all of this.

He froze.

“What if I came with you?” You knew it sounded crazy, but you felt like Frank was someone you couldn’t live without. You’d known each other maybe a month, but it felt like years. You had a feeling he felt the same way.

He didn’t move, holding his hat with both hands in front of him. You stood up from the couch, turning to face him.

“Tell me you don’t feel like you’ve known me for years, like we were meant to meet.” You said, your face burning with embarrassment as you spoke. “Tell me you want to leave and never see me again. That you could just leave and never look back.” Your voice got caught in your throat.

“Y/N…” Frank whispered, taking a step forward.

“Cause if you tell me that, I’ll let you go. It’ll break my heart, but… I’ll let you go.” You bowed your head, closing your eyes, tears streaming silently down your cheeks. You felt a warm hand grasp your face, so gently. You looked up and was met with those eyes. They were glossy and sad.

“Frank,” You said so quietly.

“I can’t tell you those things, Y/N,” he replied. “I can’t lie to you.”

Your heart sped up as you looked up at him, his thumb grazing your cheek, wiping away fallen tears. You leaned forward, your head resting on his, both of you holding onto the moment with everything you had inside of you.

“I can’t let you go.” You whispered.

“You don’t deserve to live like a dead woman.”

“I’ll be with you.”

“What about your life? Your friends and family?”

“I don’t have any of that.” You told him that your parents were both dead and you didn’t have any other family. And friends were never your strong suit.

“But I—“ Frank continued. “I can’t put you in danger and you deserve so much better than—“

“You deserve to be happy, Frank.” You interrupted. “I know you don’t think you do, but you do.”

He was quiet. Standing there, you in front of him, your hands now intertwined in between you, he was in awe of you. He never thought he would feel like this again about someone. To him, you were perfect in every sense of the word.

“Please, Frank,” You stood on your toes and place a kiss on his cheek. Your lips felt the tear that had run down his lightly bruised face.

“You’re gonna have to start calling me, Pete,” he said, and both of you broke into the biggest smiles.

You jumped up into his arms in the tightest hug. Then you pulled away, looking at his sweet face. You both dove in at the same time with a deep kiss. It was full of so much love you both felt like you could burst into a million pieces.

“You are everything, Frank Castle.”

A few weeks passed and you both decided to get married. It was scary and something that was difficult for Frank, you could tell, and you didn’t blame him. But he loved you, simply and hard, so he knew it was right.

You changed your last name and quit your job and began to live a different life. A life away from the internet and the outside world. It was difficult to have to forget about your old life. More difficult than you thought it was going to be. You moved into a much smaller apartment and left everything of yours behind. You were dead after all, and you can’t take your things with you when you die.

You had contacted Karen before everything. She was the only person Frank trusted and you wanted to make sure she knew that you were both okay. She was so happy for you both.

Now here you were, months later, that honestly felt like years. Frank had distanced himself from you and you had curled in on yourself too. Things were rough. The routine was the same and everything was stuck in a time loop.

 Frank had cleared his plate, now taking a shower. You turned on the clock radio for some music while you tackled the messy kitchen. Music was a safe place for you and it was nice to at least have the radio to keep you company. Then a love song came on that you adored. It was one of those songs that you can’t help but sway to. Frank came out of the bathroom soon after it started, but you hardly noticed as you were lost in the tune. You were standing over the sink, washing a plate, swaying to the slow beat. You did notice Frank enter the small, kitchen area, but you were caught off guard when he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You were stiff for a moment, but quickly softened into his embrace. You laid your head back against his shoulder as you both swayed from side to side, lost in the lyrics.

“You’re my, my, my, my… Lover.”

You felt Frank’s warm breath against your neck. It was so comforting. His arms tightened around you and you dropped the plate in the dish water, moving your soapy hands to on top of Frank’s. This was everything.

The song ended, it wasn’t long enough. You turned to face Frank, looking into his eyes. His eyes. You hadn’t looked at them and gotten that feeling in so long.

“Frank,” you said with your breath, your hand grasping his bearded cheeks.

You felt his hands grasp your hips tightly, and you both leaned in, your lips pressing firmly against each other. Things got a little brighter as the night went on.

...

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

A/N: Back on Writer Wednesday! YEAH! Kicked this out super quick while I was inspired so it hasn’t been beta read at all. @autumnleaves1991-blog @clydesducktape

Warnings: Alcohol consumption 🤷🏻‍♀️

Word Count: 1173

You shifted the bag to your other hand, you hadn’t realised how heavy you’d made it filling it with all your Christmas crockery and stuff to lay the table with. This year Christmas was at Ivar’s and he never made any effort. You and his brothers always dragged decorations and food because if you didn’t, well you'd all be standing around in his flat like normal.

Finally you made it to the top of the stairs blowing a sigh out of your body before you knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” He yelled. With a grin you shoved it open expecting to see nothing in his flat but the sight of a tree in the corner had the words melting on your tongue. He watched you come in, shutting the door behind you and walking over to the tree. If you could call it that. It stood about three feet tall, he’d placed it on a wooden stool and wound some lights round the sparse branches then trailed the excess across the window in a haphazard way. Mismatched baubles, around ten of them hug disappointingly from the branches making you point in disbelief.

“Ivar. What the fuck is this?” You asked, finally turning to face him. He got off the sofa with a huff. The sound of his cane loud on the wooden floorboards but not as loud as the annoyance in his voice.

“It’s a fucking tree what does it look like?” He replied scowling at you, his hair falling either side of his face when he moved.

“A twig,” you responded immediately. He rewarded you with his middle finger and a stupid grin as he sloped off into the other room. “I mean, the effort won’t go unnoticed!” You called, tentatively reaching out to touch the poor sad looking thing. At the brush of your fingertip some needles fell off and clattered to the floor. “Oh shit,” you whispered, kicking them under the stall.

“At least I made an effort this year,” he shouted sullenly.

“Well, I guess,” you mumbled.

“Anything else you’d like to pass comment on?” He asked sarcastically, pausing in the doorway.

“No no. I think I’m done.” He smiled baring his teeth in a grin that didn’t reach his blue eyes before giving you a mock bow. “Anyway, move this shit I need to lay the table and put the oven on.” You could hear him mumbling curse words at you as he pulled his photography magazines off the table and dumped them on the sofa. You were going to make the comment that someone would need to sit there but you’d pissed him off enough already. He pretended to ignore you but really he was watching you closely as you laid the decorations on the table. As you were setting the plates out he stomped over, running his fingers over the red table runner. He traced the golden thread pattern for a moment.

“Did you make this?” He asked.

“No, it was my mothers.” His fingers curled away from the fabric, looking up at you with an expression of disbelief.

“And you’re wasting it on me and my brothers?” Smiling a little, you shook your head.

“Not wasting. My mum would have loved having Christmas with a large family so in a way she’s getting her wish. There,” you announced. Taking a step back to stand beside him, you admired your handy work. “I brought my firecracker hot chocolate,” you told him.

“You did?” He shrugged trying to come across uninterested but out of all the brothers he always drank the most. It relaxed him, made him smile more and he did not stop talking which was the opposite of the Ivar standing here right now. Entering the kitchen you pulled the pot out of your bag and settled it on the hob. Both of you whipped round when the door crashed open and Björn strode in, running his gaze over the apartment.

“Ivar!” He bellowed. “Sæta?”

“In here!” You squealed as Björn wrapped his arms around you, lifting you into the air. Ubbe followed, giving you the same treatment with Hvitserk and Sigurd trailing behind. The kitchen became the epicentre of activity, Ubbe had cooked the Christmas dinner it just needed all heating up. You were handing out your firecracker hot chocolate and then shooing them all out of the room. You downed your hot chocolate feeling the warmth from the alcohol pool in your belly as you got another cup.

“The table looks pretty kær,” commented Hvitserk. “Did you see Ivar’s tree?” You pinned him with a firm stare and a pointed finger making him hold his hands up.

“Don’t rag on Ivar’s tree! He made an effort and I’ve already said all that needs saying on it.”

“How is that fair? You get to have all the fun!” He moaned.

“Shouldn’t have been so late then should you.” He rolled his shoulders with a sigh.

“You know Ubbe drives like an old man,” he mumbled.

“Yeah well…skál!”

“Skál! Ah! Eye contact!” Both of you downed the drink while maintaining eye contact when Ivar came in. Wordlessly you took his cup and refilled them both at the same time.

“Skál,” you said, holding out your cup. He hesitated for a second, his fingers shifting on the cup before snapping his intense gaze to lock with yours.

“Skál.” Holding eye contact with Ivar was completely different to mucking about with his brothers, maybe it was the ridiculous amount of alcohol you put in the chocolate, possibly the gripping intensity that sparked from his stunning blue eyes. It could be the heating just kicked on in the apartment but something was making you feel stupidly hot. Shedding your cardigan with a soft gasp you tossed it on the side and picked up your cup.

“Come on, let's join the others.” You stepped towards the doorway when Ubbe threw out his arm to stop you both.

“Look,” he said simply pointing at the top of the frame. A sprig of mistletoe wrapped in a red bow hung above you and Ivar, who turned his furious gaze onto his siblings.

“Who put that there?” He demanded. “It’s not mine!”

“Well it’s in your flat,” Björn pointed out as he slapped Hvitserk on the arm who was sniggering with Sigurd. You tried to push past Ubbe but he didn’t budge, giving you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes in frustration.

“Fine!” Before Ivar could react you grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him towards you. His hands stayed up in the air in surprise as your lips collided roughly but otherwise he didn’t hold back. Even when his brothers cheered, neither of you stopped, chasing the taste of the hot chocolate on each other's tongues until you ran out of air. Pulling away you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, finally opening your eyes to his wide eyed expression of shock at what just happened.

“Merry Christmas Ivar,” you whispered breathlessly.

“Merry Christmas elskan.”

[pinkjeanist]

“cooking by the book!” || katsuki bakugou

     ⇥ When Bakugou teaches 1-A how to bake a cake for an upcoming festival, you can’t help but notice how he treats you a little nicer than the others. But that’s just your crush on him talking...right? [1.6k words]

a/n: this is named after that remix of “cooking by the book” from lazy town bc no other song captures the pure essence of bakugou and reader’s relationship. this was also largely inspired by the difference in how gordon ramsay treats kid chefs vs. adult ones.[navigation]

You should have known that taking cooking lessons from Bakugou wasn’t going to be easy. However, with the way he taught you differently from everyone else, you had to admit: it could have been a lot harder.

“You’re gonna bake a cake, today.” You looked down at the empty mixing bowl before you, biting the inside of your cheek. You’d heard that baking was somewhat difficult to begin with, including (but not limited to) cake, and for Bakugou to choose that as your first proper baking session ever made you a bit intimidated (though whether you were intimidated by him or the cake was unclear).

Another school festival was coming up, and your class was expected to bake for the guests, which would have been okay if both halves of your class were competent enough to use an oven. So here you were, standing behind one of the many kitchen counters, trying not to stare too much ahead at Bakugou. You caught yourself doing that a lot on the daily, and even if you sometimes caught him doing the same, it was rude on your part. So, long before you’d even stepped foot in the kitchen, you decided that you would put your feelings aside and focus on the task at hand (which was already proving difficult).

After preheating the ovens, you all went back to your stations. You reached for the apron on the counter and slipped it over your head. Next to you, Kirishima asked his friend, “Are we supposed to do that?”

“Are you kidding me? Is that a question?” You paused in tying the apron behind your back as Bakugou raised his voice. “Yes, you dumbass! Who the hell doesn’t bake without an apron?!” 

You nodded even as his shouting wasn’t directed towards you, and again attempted to tie the apron behind your back until you realized it just wouldn’t stay tied. You almost asked Kirishima or Mina to help you before Bakugou came over to grab the strings and do it himself. You went still, and didn’t quite hear him the first time when he mumbled, “Is that too tight?” 

You swallowed. “It’s fine, thank you…” 

He moved back in front of the counters again and tied his own apron. “You each have a recipe in front of you. Don’t use it unless you need it. If you listen to me, you won’t need it at all.” 

You nodded and put your hands behind your back, not sure what else to do with them until he instructed the ten or so of you to find the flour. The others scrambled to the part of the kitchen you knew had flour somewhere around it, but you distinctly remembered there being another, smaller bag of it in a different pantry, so you went there instead. You retrieved it and presented it to Bakugou.

“Is this flour?”

He blinked. “No. That’s sugar.”

“Oh…”

“You’ll need it. Take it back to your station.”

“Oh, okay!” You smiled. Turning on your heel, you did as he instructed, and waited patiently until you were told to find the sugar (which you already had), baking soda, baking powder, cocoa, salt, and espresso powder. You tried to keep the list of the items in your mind as you turned to search for them, but found yourself at a loss. 

It was your fault for only partially-listening when Bakugou had given the instructions, but were you really to blame? He was wearing a sleeveless shirt under an apron that hugged him tight enough to show off his tiny waist. How were you supposed to have paid attention with that in front of you? 

But you wouldn’t say any of that to him- never in a million lifetimes- so you were as quiet and unassuming as possible as you took the recipe from the countertop and went over it. You knew where the flour was, and you had the sugar, but looking around the kitchen, you couldn’t spot anyone with espresso powder, which you didn’t even know was a thing that was supposed to go in cakes, but that wasn’t the point. You stood, biting your lip, until Bakugou came over again.

“What are you confused about?” His voice was a lot softer than you expected it to be, seeing as how he’d done nothing but yell at everyone else (you couldn’t blame him. Cooking was just that big of a passion for some people), but you couldn’t complain. You looked down at the recipe to avoid his eye.

“I’m not confused, I just- I don’t know who has the espresso powder.” 

Bakugou put a hand on your arm, and you tried not to melt under it as he shouted over your shoulder: “Who has the espresso powder?!”

“Is this it?” Kaminari lifted a large jar of brown powder over a sea of other bakers-in-training, which drew another rant from Bakugou about kitchen safety and do you want someone to get a concussion when you drop that?!, but you were still too focused on the weight of his hand. When he got done yelling, he squeezed your arm gently before looking down at you, and you swore you felt your heart stop before beating out of control. 

“Go and get a teaspoon of espresso powder. I’ll announce everything else, but if you forget the measurements, just look at the damn recipe.” 

You nodded and said, “Okay. Thank you, Bakugou.” 

Walking away, he muttered a quiet “you’re welcome,” and you could only smile to yourself as you looked back down at the recipe. 

Bakugou called out the measurements, and eventually, you had everything in the mixing bowl, and whisked through the powders until combined as instructed. You were then told to add milk (Bakugou measured that out for you without you needing to ask) and add two eggs (he did that for you, too) with vegetable oil and vanilla. Once you had everything in, you began to stir it, but apparently, whatever you were doing was wrong, because he moved behind you to take your hands in his on the side of the bowl and on the paddle. 

“You have to be more rough with it,” He muttered, moving your hands at a faster pace. “Or you’re gonna be standing here for three hours until it finally mixes.” 

You couldn’t even find the words, anymore. The voice that constantly nagged you in the voice told you that you were doing everything wrong, and that you were helpless for needing his assistance with each and every step, but you really couldn’t complain. Another voice told you that you were actually doing well and that he was helping you because he wanted to, not because he felt obligated, but you pushed that thought back. You knew that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. (Could it, though? (No. No it couldn’t.))

After he decided it was mixed to his satisfaction, he stepped away and went to observe Kirishima’s bowl.

“Is it supposed to be this kinda poop brown?”

“Never fucking say that again about food. And what the fuck is this? Stir it!” Bakugou grabbed the bowl and stirred it with vigor while Kirishima stood by and laughed. He didn’t hold Kirishima like he’d held you. And as he went around to stir the bowls of others, he didn’t even lay his hands on those faring worse than you. You furrowed your brow, but elected to continue stirring to keep yourself busy. 

You were then told to put the batter in the two prepared pans in front of you, with the word “evenly” stressed after the fact. Bakugou again walked over to you as you got done. “Is this okay?” 

He huffed. “This one has more batter, but it’ll do. Go put them in the oven.” 

You nodded and put the pans in the oven, nearly dropping and spilling one on the way before catching it- but other than that, they went in smoothly. Over the next half hour, you took Bakugou’s advice and used a toothpick to check the center of the cakes, and sat on the flour-covered counters in the meantime while they baked. Bakugou came to sit by you while you twiddled your thumbs.

“You did a good job today.” 

You looked at him, then immediately back to the oven with wide eyes. “Oh. I-I feel like I messed everything up, to be honest…” 

“You did fine. You didn’t mess anything up.” He didn’t look at you, so you both kept staring at the oven, afraid of eye contact.

You hesitated before saying, “Thank you for helping me.” After a moment, you added, “You’re a really good teacher.” 

“I know.” His head whipped over to where Kaminari was about to eat a spoonful of cinnamon, and chucked a wooden spoon at his back. “Not in my kitchen, asshat!” 

You actually giggled at that, which was even more embarrassing with him looking at you afterwards. You quieted yourself soon after and shoved your hands into your lap. 

“Why do you do that?”

You blinked. “Do what?”

“You always stop laughing. You laugh enough with your friends but never with me. Stop doing that.”

“Who says you’re not my friend?” You asked before you could stop your tongue, then meeting his eye. You desperately wanted to look away, but the need for a connection with him was too strong. “You are. My friend, I mean. Uhm.”

“So laugh if I do something funny. It pisses me off when you don’t.” He hung his head to mess with his hands, and you grinned shyly to yourself as you turned away.

“Okay.”

When the cakes were pulled from the oven, Bakugou was by your side the most, helping stack the layers and frosting it with chocolate buttercream. In which, when your hand brushed against his as you frosted the cake, you didn’t shy away from him. You each stole little glances, meeting one another’s eye every now and again (which was starting to become less uncomfortable each time). 

You thought your cake was a little dry. He said it was the “best fucking thing” he’d ever eaten.

-

taglist: @keigos-dove​ @knifeewifee​ @wesparklebitch​ @bvnnyclouds​ @hanniejji​ @katsukis-sad-angel​

other tag/s: @pixxiesdust​

- dm/inbox to be added or removed from a taglist. 

[abbatoirablaze]

TM Tragedy, Season 2, Chapter 13

Word Count:  998

Warnings:  angst

Mandy’s POV

"Come on," I giggled, "we're gonna be late."

He stopped me as we reached the steps. None of he bikes were there yet, but a bunch of cars were. He pushed me up against the frame of the house and kissed me. I melted into his touch. When he pulled away, I frowned.

"Come on," he jokingly mocked, "we'll be late."

I pulled him back to me by his kutte and he smirked. I bit my lip, "I love you, Juan Carlos Ortiz."

"I love you too, Amanda Morrow."

He pulled away again but grabbed my hand. We were met by a few sweet butts opening the door. They ignored Juice. "Gemma's looking for you Mandy."

Shit.

I cursed under my breath and let go of Juice's hand. Inside Gemma was ordering some more sweet butts around. She smiled when she saw me, "oh thank god you're here. Tara's supposed to bring the salad. But she hasn't shown up yet. I need you to start setting the table."

"Where's the kids?"

"Mikey's watching Rizario, Cain, and Declan," she replied quickly, opening the oven to check on the roast, "come on sweetie. It's all out there. The table just needs set. You and Juice do it."

I shrugged and went out to the dining room and began setting the table.

I smiled when I felt Juice wrap his arms around me and settle on my hips, "wanna try sneaking off to your old room before everyone else gets here?"

He playfully kissed my neck. I stopped setting the table and closed my eyes, "JC you do not want to play that game with your pregnant girlfriend."

"My fully legal pregnant girlfriend," he said, nipping at the sweet spot on my neck. I stifled a moan as the front door slammed behind us, “shit.”

"You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago with the salad!" Gemma growled. I turned slightly to see Tara and her beginning to argue. I groaned as they made their way out to us.

"I'll catch up with you later...where's Rizario?"

Mikey's watching the kids." I said, nodding my head towards Alicia's old room. He kissed my cheek and headed that way. I turned around to see Tara and Gemma glaring at Lyla.

"Oh, great we're serving hand jobs for desserts."

A very distressed Lyla looked at Gemma before putting the dish down that she'd made and storming out. I looked at Kenny, Ellie, and Piper, "go down the hall and find Juice."

The kids nodded and I turned towards them, "That's the only person that's been able to pick up the pieces with Opie. So you two angry bitches better stop taking it out on her."

Tara looked at me, pissed as all hell, "what did you just call me?"

"You heard me," I growled, stepping up to her, "mom wants everyone to come together, and you're so busy playing like you're better than everyone, you're tearing us more apart."

Mom looked at me, then at Tara.  I could see the guilt on her face.

"I'm gonna go see if I can convince her to come back in," I said slowly, "whatever issues you want to push onto someone else, Tara, save it for your job. Not regular people trying to live their lives."

I didn't wait for a response. I ran after Lyla. She had already pushed past Ope and Jax, "your girlfriend is a real bitch. Ope the kids are with Juice and Mikey. You take them home. I'll catch up with Lyla."

Ope nodded, and Jax grabbed my arm, "be nice to Tara."

"Tell her to be nice to Lyla," I growled, "it's the least you could do for covering this shit up."

I could see the pain in his eyes. He knew that I knew. I ripped my arm from him and chased after Lyla. She was crying in her car. I sighed. I knew what it was like to feel unaccepted and unloved. Slowly, I made my way to the passenger's side and knocked on the window.  She wiped her tears and turned the car on to unlock the door.

"Hey," I said slowly, "are you okay?"

She shook her head, "I just...I don't get why she's such a bitch to me."

"Trust me," I said with a shrug, "they're just wary of you...I wouldn't take it personally."

She opened the door and I got into the seat next to her.

"Amanda, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "you can call me Mandy."

"You're Juice's girlfriend?"

"Yeah. And one of Clay's daughters."

"That's why they're nice to you."

"They kind of have to," I said with a smirk, "they're not so kind to JC though."

"They're meaner than some of the girls that work for Luann."

"Forget those bitches," I said, trying to comfort her, "Lyla, can I be honest with you?"

"Please," she said in a huff, "I feel like everyone is either a cunt, or walking on eggshells with me."

"You're the first person that Opie has even shown interest in," I admitted, "ever since Donna died, it was like a part of him did too. His mom came down to make sure the kids were taken care of...and then he came across you...it seems like he's slowly coming back to life..."

"We just get each other."

"I think he likes you," I replied, "the others—Tara, my mom, the crow eaters—they all can see Opie is interested in you."

"He's not," she said, shaking her head, "he jus-"

"Lyla," I said, reaching across the gearshift and taking a hand, "he is. That's why they're going after you. You are doing something that not even the club could do for him. Helping him live...that's a gift...I think they're just worried you'll try and take him away."

"I wouldn't," she said. It sounded like a desperate promise, "I wouldn't even think of it. I know Ope loves the club."

"I know," I smiled, "we just gotta show them that." 

Chapter 14

Tag List:  @lohnes16 @evyiione

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

The Green-Eyed Monster

This is a sequel to Water Seeks Its Own Level, although you probably don’t have to read that one for this one to make sense. It’s set a few months after the events of that story. I originally intended to write for someone new but I am just totally smitten with Eddie. He called me back to him. 

Pairing: Eddie Kingston x OFC

Word count: 3,836

Content advisory: a healthy dose of smut and cursing

“Son of a bitch!” You jerk your hand back, wincing in pain and you smack the side of the toaster oven, as if it’s the appliance’s fault you haven’t yet figured out that food coming out of the oven is hot. To make things worse, you actually feel a little guilty for taking your anger out on the inanimate object. You’re in a bad mood. The toaster oven is just the latest thing to make your day worse. 

You run some cold water on your hand before you go back for another attempt at removing the leftover pizza slice that you don’t even want but you figure you should eat something because you’ve poured a couple of beer down your gullet and if you don’t eat something, you’re going to get a headache. 

So you gnaw joylessly at your pizza slice, trying not to notice that reheating it has not made it taste fresher than the three days it’s been in your refrigerator. None of this would have happened, of course, if you’d just gone out with the rest of the crew like you’d assumed you would. There was a Korean barbecue place that a few of the AEW gang had heard good things about and finally someone had taken it upon themselves to get a side room reserved so that you could all go together and have a good time. You’d been looking forward to it. 

But earlier in the day, you’d found out that the group that was going included Eddie, along with his new so-called family: the Butcher, the Blade, and the Bunny, also known as Andy, Braxton, and Allie. It shouldn’t have bothered you. They’d known each other a long time. You knew them all well. They’d all been bugging you to come along whenever they were going out together, or at least they had until recently. 

As things too often did for you, it came down to Eddie. After he’d shown up in AEW, the two of you had rekindled the fuck-buddy thing you’d had going when you were both on the indies. The problem was that now you weren’t just hooking up when you happened to be on the same tour or show: you were together every week, living in the same city, working the same schedule. So your casual, no-strings-attached thing had become a very frequent thing. It had become a leaving stuff in each other’s apartments thing. It had become a casual understanding of at least one night of the weekend together thing. 

What it hadn’t become was a relationship, at least not in the articulated, public, monogamous sense. You didn’t have anyone else in your life. You didn’t want anyone else in your life. You’d spent years telling yourself that Eddie was just someone you could go to for a good time in the sack, and even though you were aware that he always stirred up feelings in you that went beyond a fallback booty call, you kept telling yourself that was all it was. 

Now that the two of you were actually stable in terms of work and living space, though, you’d started to wonder if maybe you did want things to be a bit more stable with Eddie as well. Although you’d never discussed your status, you didn’t have anyone else in your life and you didn’t want anyone else in your life. Even though you were surrounded by beautiful people at work, people who had their shit far more together than Eddie Kingston ever would, it was like they didn’t really exist. You didn’t say that to him because you didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself. If it was going to happen, it would come out naturally, by which you meant that he’d have to get around to bringing it up. 

Things had been fine until recently, until Eddie had taken it upon himself to reunite Braxton with his estranged wife Allie, the Bunny, so that they could have each other’s backs. At least, that’s what he said he was doing. But it actually seemed that Allie was spending most of her time with Eddie. He was the one on television calling her “the beautiful Bunny” and taking credit for wooing her back to the fold. He convinced her to join them. He was the one she seemed loyal to. Even backstage, when the four of them were around each other, Allie always seemed to be hanging off Eddie’s arm, laughing extra loudly at his jokes, and insisting that he come along wherever she was going. It made your blood boil. 

You didn’t say anything because it wasn’t like you had reason to think that Eddie wasn’t going to have anyone else in his life. And you were even sure if he did, because cuckolding his friend right in front of his face would be bold even for him. You’d gone out with the group of them a couple of times but you’d felt nauseous from jealousy, watching him talk about how great it was that they were all working together again. 

So you’d ended up begging off and just spending time with Eddie when you could be alone. More recently, you’d just started avoiding him because thinking that he was leaving your bed to have a quick shower and then run off to another woman had you crying your eyes out on several occasions. You never said anything, you just stopped returning his texts and stayed clear of him at work. And after a while, he’d stopped messaging and trying to talk to you. Things were over. 

You throw the remainder of the pizza in the garbage. Thinking about everything that’s happened in this weird, hopeless thing with him makes you feel rejected and miserable all over again. You miss him. A lot. But now it’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want anything more with you, that he wants to keep things open, and you know you can’t deal with that. 

The doorbell cuts through the fog of frustration and self-pity, startling you so much that you give a little yelp. You old place had one of those systems when the bell was hooked up to your phone but this one had a buzzer that sounded like an aircraft engine and you didn’t feel like you were ever going to get used to it. 

“Hello?” You mumble, hoping that it isn’t another homeless person looking to sleep in the hallway downstairs. 

“It’s me, can I come up?”

He doesn’t even have to say his name because you’d know that almost cartoonish accent anywhere. It figures that he’d just show up unannounced after eleven, like nothing had been weird between you. Maybe for him, things hadn’t been weird at all. 

“Yeah, sure.” You press the release to open the front door and wait, pacing a little and trying to stay calm until you hear a knock on your door. 

And when you open it, there’s Eddie, his face and jacket sprinkled with rain, sporting a fresh-looking bruise on his left eye that he turns to try to hide it. 

“We haven’t hung out in a while,” he grunts, his eyes a little suspicious and resentful. 

“True. Guess we’ve both been busy.”

You motion for him to come inside, quietly pleased that he remembers to take his boots off. You reach over to take his jacket so that you can hang it up and he looks almost offended. 

“I know where it goes,” he snaps, opening the closet and putting it on a hanger himself. 

You grip his jaw and turn his face so that you can get a better look at the damaged eye. 

“What happened?”

He steps back, pouting like a child who’s been caught doing something he knows he isn’t supposed to. 

“We went out to a bar after the restaurant. Archer offered to buy me a drink, and I said I wanted to buy him a drink. I guess it got out of hand.”

“Two friends try to buy a round at the bar turns into a fistfight. That is so you.” 

You can’t help but laugh at your own joke because it is such an Eddie thing but he doesn’t seem amused. 

“You got something I can put on this?” He grumbles. 

“I have a couple of ice packs in the freezer. Come on.”

He follows you over to the open kitchen with its little breakfast counter while you start lifting frozen entrees out of the way to find the artificial ice. 

“So how come you didn’t come to dinner?”

“I don’t know,” you lie. “My stomach was a bit upset and I probably wouldn’t have been much fun.”

He gives a low cackle. “You just don’t like it when you can’t have me all to yourself.”

You pause from digging through the back of the freezer to shoot him a scornful look. 

“You just want me there so you can have a larger audience,” you retort, standing and producing the ice pack. 

“Who said I wanted you there?”

You slap the cold pack into his cheek, giving a cruel little smile when he winces at the impact. 

“Thank god you never decided to become a nurse,” he growls. 

You can feel his eyes digging into you, searching for an opening. He knows all your fault lines so well, but he knows that there’s something going on with you that he hasn’t seen before. Your body twists under his scrutiny, trying to make it less obvious that you’re avoiding meeting his gaze. 

“So what’s up with you anyway?” he asks, still studying you too closely for comfort.

“Not much. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine with me.”

“What?” You finally look back at him, eyes wide with fake surprise. “Did I say something that made you think I was pissed at you? Did I do something to get you pissed off?”

“Come on. You know what I mean. You barely talk to me at work, you never go out if you think I’m gonna be there. You won’t answer when I message you, or it’s two words long like I’m annoying you. I thought things were going ok with us for once.”

“They were. They are,” you counter desperately. 

He places the ice pack on the counter and arches his brows at you. When you reach to remove it, he grabs your wrist and pulls you between his body and the counter, shaking his head as he presses it hard against yours. 

His hands graze down to your hips and under your shorts, gripping both of your ass cheeks hard and you feel yourself melt against him, as you always do. You incline your head forward until your lips are against his, your arms winding around his neck, and you let yourself fall into the kiss you’d told yourself you were going to avoid. Everything that Eddie does with that mouth of his is magic and every second you spend locked in that embrace, you get drawn further in. 

“I missed this,” he growls softly, giving a hard squeeze for emphasis.

It’s almost painful to pull yourself back from what you want so much but if you don’t extricate yourself now, you’ll be going crazy over him forever, so you force yourself to do it. 

You try to pivot a little but he has you locked in place. 

“Please, just let me put the cold pack back in the fridge.”

“No,” he whispers, giving you an evil little smile before nipping at the skin of your neck. “That’s gonna stay right there and melt and make a mess until you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“That’s not fair!” You whine, trying fruitlessly to reach back so you can at least throw the stupid in thing in the sink. 

“Kinda seems like the Princess has decided she’s too good for me again.”

His lips lock onto the base of your throat and you main loudly. He’s doing it on purpose, tweaking your sensitive spots with his caresses and his words. 

“You know that’s not true, Eddie.”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you were afraid someone might find out that I was your dirty little secret.”

“It’s not that, I don’t give a fuck who knows.”

That draws a guttural laugh from him and the sound makes your stomach flip. You don’t offer any resistance when he eases your tank top over your head and trails kisses down the center of your chest. 

“So tell me,” he insists, twisting a nipple hard between his fingers, “why I haven’t been getting any of this.”

“Why does it have to be something wrong with me? You’re the one with your new faction or family or whatever, making all sorts of plans and wooing Allie to join you.”

He lifts his head and as soon as you see the smirk on his face, you know you’re done for. 

“Wooing Allie?”

“I don’t know what you call it. You got her to ditch what she was doing and go back with you guys.”

“I call it talking to my friend’s wife and making her work things out with him. That’s not what most people would call ‘wooing’, princess.”

“Whatever, I just meant that you’ve been busy so maybe I’m the one who should feel neglected.”

You fold your arms in front of your chest because the only thing worse than trying to salvage your stupid comment is trying to do it half naked while he gives you that amused look. 

“I don’t believe it. You’re fucking jealous.”

“No,” you whine. 

“Oh yes you are. You think there’s something going on with me and Allie.”

“I guess it seems like you have a bit of a thing for her, at least. You’re always talking about how beautiful she is and all that.”

“Princess, has anyone explained to you that not everything you see in wrestling is real?”

“It doesn’t matter. I just said that you’d been busy and-“

He kisses you again, little ripples of laughter coming out as he does. You return the kiss, diving in and hoping that you can just shut him up and make him forget what you’ve said, and to shut yourself up before you say anything worse. 

“I like this,” he chuckles. “You’re jealous because you think I’m hot for someone else.”

“Fuck off, I never said that.”

The two of you continue kissing, more passionately and hungrier than before, but the next time he pulls back to catch his breath, he goes back to his new favourite subject. 

“I am never letting you live this one down.”

“You can leave any time, you smug asshole.”

He chuckles again, his hand sliding under your clothes, between your legs. He buries his face against you, his lips pressed against your ear as he drags one finger, ever so lightly, from the back of your slit all the way up to your throbbing little nub, repeating the gesture and using his hip to hold you still and stop you from thrusting against him to get more friction. He just keeps up with that ghost of a touch, humming with pleasure the more he can feel your frustration. 

“You want me to go? Really? Because it feels like maybe you’re not so sure.”

You just whimper in need, while at the same time trying to force the desire you’re feeling out of your body. 

He lightly strokes and taps at your clit as he whispers to you, “I like that you’re jealous. But you need to tell me these things, not deprive both of us, ya silly brat.”

His attention then shifts, two thick fingers swirling at your entrance while the two of you bite and lick at each other. You hold out as long as you can, which isn’t long at all, before begging. 

“Don’t do that. Stop teasing.”

“Well what do you want me to do?” he rasps, grinning as you thrust against him, trying to force some more pressure. 

“Fuck me. Stop talking and fuck me through the mattress and into the goddamned floor.”

He lifts you up by your thighs, smiling when you wrap your arms around him to secure yourself as he carries you to your bed. As he places you down, he removes the rest of your clothing in one smooth movement before discarding his own. You kiss playfully for a moment before you tap his thigh. 

“Get up here,” you order. 

And he is most happy to oblige, kneeling over your body and letting you take his thick cock in hand, easing the swollen tip past your lips, sucking and licking while you slowly move your hand along his shaft, occasionally letting your thumb flick delicately along the seam, relishing the yelps this gesture never fails to elicit from him.  

“So you want that even if I’ve been giving it to another woman?”

You growl but the vibrations only increase his pleasure and he starts to thrust a little, pushing himself further into your mouth and throat. 

“Aw, don’t worry,” he purrs, “I’ll always have some use for you.”

At that, you punch him hard in the hip and rake your nails down his ass. He eases down your body, sparkling, mischievous eyes meeting yours. It’s like there’s nothing else in the whole world for you but you know better than to say so. 

“You know what you need to do, Kingston? You need to shut the fuck up.” You push on his shoulders to direct him where you want him to go, and while he takes his time getting there, the journey involves him working his way down your body, like he’s worshipping you. 

“This what you want?” he asks, licking at your soaked flesh. 

“Mm-hmm.” You squirm in anticipation, suspecting that he might try to draw this out longer, so when he dives in and starts fucking you with his tongue, lips and teeth, you let out a loud moan and clench at the bedsheet with both fists. You’re already so close.”

“Lucky for you I have such good stamina,” he hisses. “So I can handle all of these women I’m fucking.”

“You’re still talking,” you groan. “Why are you still talking?”

He gives a harsh bite on the inside of your thigh. “Look at me.”

You glare down at him but immediately feel a little unnerved by the deadly serious look in his eyes. 

“You know damn well there aren’t any other women. I haven’t fucked another woman, haven’t kissed- hell I haven’t even beat off thinking about another woman in months. So let me enjoy this for a few hours until you go back to thinking you’re too good for me.”

With that he goes right back at it, letting you feel the full skill of that constantly moving mouth. You let yourself go, feeling for the first time in ages like you have exactly what you want, what you need, right here in your bed doing everything to make you happy. Your whole body trembles in ecstasy, the tide rising steadily within you, your whines and moans growing ever louder. 

“I love you.”

It slips out so naturally that you almost don’t notice that you’ve said it until he pulls back. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“Get back down there!” You push his head but he shakes you off and now you’re aware you have a problem. 

“Oh no, I want you to repeat what you just said.”

“I don’t remember,” you whine. 

“Sure you do.” He moves to his side next to you, running his fingers over your skin so that you stay worked up, frustrated, and desperate. 

“I fucking hate you.”

“No,” he scolds, “that wasn’t what you said.”

You exhale in exasperation. 

“Let me get you started. You said ‘I’... come on, repeat after me.”

“What makes you think I even meant it?”

“Well you have to tell me whether you did or not, don’t you, princess?”

His finger traces a curved line between your hip bones that only accentuates your overwhelming, unmet need. 

“I’m not hearing anything,” he coos, flicking his tongue over your nipple. 

“Fine!” you roar, hitting your breaking point. “I said that I love you, and yeah, I meant it.”

Grinning, he moves back down your body. 

“Now was that so hard?” he asks just as he buries his face between your legs again. 

You’d love to give a sharp retort but the second he’s giving you what you want, every other thought leaves your mind. You are one pulsating nerve waiting for release and he is expertly guiding you there. Within minutes you’re screaming his name, tears leaking from your eyes as you come down from the best orgasm you think you’ve ever had. 

By the time you can open your eyes, he’s hovering over you, the tip of his cock throbbing against the lips of your pussy. 

“Say it again.”

You groan a little and push against him but it doesn’t work. 

“Say it again and look at me this time.”

His incredible eyes bear down on you and it’s very different than before. This time, you can’t hide the truth of it behind sarcasm and annoyance. This time he can see into you. You’re vulnerable. 

“Come on.” He prods at your face with his nose and lips before once again locking you with that killer stare. “Let me hear you.”

“I love you,” you stammer, trying to read his reaction and more than a little afraid of what that might be. 

He moans a little and pushes himself part way inside you, rocking his hips slowly. 

“Again,” he rasps. 

“Don’t be like this. I said it. I said it twice. What the hell do you want?”

He grabs a handful of your hair and thrusts his face even closer to yours. “Five years. Five fucking years I’ve been waiting for you to come around. So I want to get the most out of this that I can.”

“Eddie Kingston, I love you.”

He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and thrusts into you harder. 

“Are you going to say it back?” 

“Sure,” he laughs. “When I feel like it.”

He pounds into you with increased vigor, laughing more when he sees your face contort somewhere between fury and ecstasy, your pussy contracting involuntarily around him. 

“You are such a bastard,” you yell, fighting the second orgasm that’s about to overtake you. 

The phrase is barely past your lips when your whole body spasms, pulling him right along with you. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he pants after a couple of minutes. “I am a bastard. But you finally managed to figure out I’m the bastard you want.”

You can’t help but laugh, wondering if he really did know ages before you did that you were in love with him, or if he was just hopeful. You run your hands over the back of his head and pull on his earlobe a little with your teeth. 

“God help me,” you whisper.

[animeheadspace]

Scaredy-Cat

zenitsu x reader

summary: you get annoyed at your boyfriend’s fear of practically everything, and he tries to compensate by buying you food. 

warnings: mentions of spiders, insects, oven fumes, snakes, and fear for all of them. 

sometimes you really question why you’re dating zenitsu. here you are, trying to film a cute couple tiktok in your vanity mirror looking all dolled up and pretty, and zenitsu has his arms and legs wrapped around you, screaming his head off at a spider he managed to see to your right. on some days, you would have more patience. but today you decided to be petty, even going so far as to actually clicking that record button to eventually use as blackmail. 

it was only when you stomped over the spider with your shoes, picked up the remains with a napkin, and flushed it down the toilet did he stop yelling and kissing your cheek with a soft “thank you”. 

and for the time being, you were fine, your rigid shoulders deflating as you gave him a small smile. but when zenitsu was cooking something in your oven and smoke starting billowing out, he was on you again in an instant, screaming, this time tears collecting at his lash line. you took out the burning remains of your food, and placed it under cool water, the smoke eventually exiting your apartment through the window. 

that was it. 

as soon as he got off of you, you decided to give him the silent treatment. it wasn’t that you didn’t know zenitsu really couldn’t help it, but you were getting sick and tired of him screaming your ears off: he had a fear of practically every insect in existence, even fucking butterflies, and there was this one time he saw a snake on the road to your apartment --- every time he comes now he is armed with a snake repellant spray can. 

zenitsu....hated your newfound silence. he tried everything to get you to talk, but you took to stone-facedly watching the news, resting your body on your couch. he silently left the apartment, leaving you slightly insecure, even though you knew you had made him insecure. curling up like a ball, tears started to collect on your own lash line as you flipped through channels. you wanted him back. but your pride didn’t let you call him, so you sniffled even harder. 

you heard your front door open again, keys jangling in the locks, and you immediately lifted yourself up, calling out zenitsu’s name as he was the only other person with keys to your apartment. he walked into your living room, shyly holding up a takeout bag from your favorite restaurant. you melted, leaping into his arms for once, rubbing your nose into his neck. he was strong, after all. 

“i know that you’re probably really ashamed of me, but --” he began, but you immediately cut him off, planting a kiss on his lips. 

“i will never be ashamed of you baby. today was just a really bad day for me, but i love you. please don’t doubt that. ever. i mean it from the bottom of my heart,” you sniffled tucking yourself back into his neck. 

your voice rose however, much to zenitsu’s dismay. “but you’re a fucking karate instructor in the most ruthless martial arts studio in this entire country, you dumb fuck!! how did your grandfather raise someone like you?? how will you be expected to lead that dojo when you piss your pants when you see a lady bug???” you exclaimed, biting his neck in anger. but also in love. but mainly in anger. 

zenitsu laughed, sitting in front of the tv again, resting your body against his, chest to chest, as he leaned back, placing the bag to his side. 

“i’m the coolest man you’ve ever met before though right?? i’m so strong that i can protect you!! look at my muscles they’re so big and --” you shut him up with a glare that could destroy moons. but he giggled placing a loving kiss on your forehead, and after some thought, you decided to reciprocate it. 

“i hate you dummy.” 

“i love you too, y/n.” 

a/n - this may actually be my longest fic yet??? anyway here’s to kicking off my demon slayer masterlist!! i’m so excited hehe 

[moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown]

We all know how hard colson is and how much of an ✨asshole✨ he can be so imagine he’s just had a rough day of interviewers asking him dumb questions so when he gets home he’s pissed off, but he sees you quietly dancing around the kitchen baking cookies and softly signing to yourself and his ice wall instantly melts🥺

Colson hated interviewers that asked the same dumb fuck questions, his love life, his old feuds with people he didn’t want to think about anymore. He got enough people in the daily tweeting about how

‘Big king won so hard MGK had to switch to a different genre’ as if he was some bitch running with his tail between his legs at a rapper who seemed to think the rap and hip hop game was still stuck in 2002.

So when he came home pissed and on edge he just wanted to punch things. Not that he would because casie was home and that meant he had to reign in his anger at least until he knew his baby was asleep.

Walking into the house his annoyance twinged just a tad when he tripped over one of casies sneakers, or maybe it was yours he never knew the difference it seemed when it came to the massive shoe collections both you and his daughter had.

He could hear music from the kitchen, the lights on and the smell of something in the oven. He could hear casie and you jamming to Doms voice in the blu tooth.

“Casie hold still you lil squirm, you wanted the space puffs and I spent like 4 hours while you were in class on YouTube learning how to do them so you keep squirming and one puff is gonna be bigger then the other”

he heard casie laugh as he peeked around the corner, your back to him, a mirror set up on the table along with the mountain of hair products his daughter used to keep her hair healthy. Next to them the oven was on, the look of cookies in the oven baking away.

“Okay now just gonna stick the lil moon pin in here, and the star one in here. And bam! Perfection” smiling colson felt the ice he had been surrounded in slowly melt away as he watched casie study the mirror before turning and hugging you tight.

“Looking slick like a villian” casie pulled away hearing colsons voice running over hugging his

“Hey baby. You making y/n your personal hair stylist today? Looks dope AF,” casie smiled up at him shrugging

“She offered to do them dad. We made cookies and had nothing to do while they baked.” Colson nodded

“Well why don’t you go to your room and put your shoes away that my tall ass almost died tripping over” casie giggled before running off to the living room.

Walking over to you his arms went around your waist, sighing into your neck when he leaned down

“Bad day? Or just bad interviews?” Colson shrugged

“Ahh so both. I could tell from the one word answers on the phone. We made cookies, would some sick af cookies help?” Colson laughed into your shoulder nodding

“Just seeing you and casie hanging like besties helped. Also I am offended you are playing Dom and not me right now” sighing you turned holding his face

“Casie picked the music. She’s been on a kick of Dom since he last visited. Said his crazy matched your crazy. Plus she’s 12 so. It’s almost the emo ‘it’s not a phase’ dad time of life soon” colson groaned leaning his head into your neck again

“Don’t remind me. How did my baby get so grown? She was just a literal baby like yesterday” laughing you sighed

“I don’t know but I can see the pissed off angry hard rapper is gone and colson the teddy bear has returned” looking at you colson growled slightly making you laugh

“Oh so hard. So edgy, so bad ass. Much hard rap man” colsons hands went to your sides tickling you

“Yeah not so big talking now huh?”

If anything could melt the ice he held after days like today it was you and his baby girl, cookies were a solid second place though.

[grimrester]

The Heat

The fall semester of my last year of art school had barely started when the air conditioning in the senior art studios broke. If I lived further north that might not have been a problem, but I lived in Georgia, where the summer heat didn't quite break until September or October. And it was still August.

To make matters worse, the studios were in an old building with high ceilings and big glass panels built into the steep, sloped roof. All the natural lighting normally would've been a blessing. But with the air conditioning broken, it instead turned the studios into an oven. Heat seeped in all day long and remained trapped there indefinitely.

The studios themselves were two rows of cubicles with high, 8ft walls, built right in the center of the building after the college had purchased it. The open ceilings of each cell and the large gap between the cubicle wall and the sloped windows above allowed the light - and the heat - to reach anyone who might be working inside them. Each graduating senior was assigned a specific cubicle as their personal, 24/7 studio space.

There was a big hallway around the perimeter of the building. One section of the hallway widened to make space for a sink to wash brushes in and a table and chairs for critique sessions. The bathroom was there, too - a unisex one with a derelict little door, nearly hanging off its hinges.

Initially I'd worried that having just one toilet in the building wouldn't be enough, but it ended up not being an issue. Most of the students didn't last long. The heat during the day was too oppressive. At times, the air in the building was so suffocating that the heat almost felt like a physical presence, like a large creature weighing down on our shoulders, crushing us under its weight.

---

I caught the student assigned to the cell next to mine moving out all his paintings just a couple weeks into the semester.

"Hey," I said, pausing outside the door to my own cubicle to gawk. The student - I never bothered to learn his name - looked entirely morose as he stacked a few canvases by the door. "Moving out already?"

"Yeah," he said, solemnly, heavily dropping another canvas on the pile. "I have no idea how you can work in here. My oils keep melting."

"What?" I said, confused. I shuffled over to get a look at the top painting on the stack, and sure enough, the half-finished landscape he'd made with oil paint was completely distorted. Strangely, the melted paint seemed to be in round sections, about as large as my head, scattered all over the canvas.

"It's fucking weird, right?" he said, following my gaze.

"Wouldn't it melt all over?" I asked. "Why is it just in some parts?"

"Beats the hell out of me," he replied. "My best guess is it was cloudy or something so it melted unevenly where the sun got to it."

"Guess it's lucky I work with ink," I said. "It dries fast so it'd sooner burst into flames than melt, and it's too humid in here for a fire."

The student clucked his tongue. "I shoulda used acrylic. Might've held up better." He sighed and picked up the stack. "Too late now, I guess. I'm going to see if I can salvage them at home."

"Good luck," I said, watching him go. At least he had the option of working at home. My apartment was too small for the large paintings I wanted to make, so I was forced to bear the heat.

---

I and the few other students who had to work in the little plaster cells complained to the administration about the heat many times, but I guess our small group just wasn't a priority because the air conditioner remained broken. The heat remained an issue into September, even when the outside air had cooled off a little. I began to think there was something wrong with the building, that perhaps the AC was spitting out hot air or the large windows had been specifically designed to turn the place into an oven.

I eventually started coming into the studios later and later, hoping that the space would at least cool down at nighttime. I preferred working in crappy, dim synthetic lighting over standing there with the sun bearing down on me through the open top of my cubicle. But even at night, the heat was terrible. It felt muggy, smothering. I felt the weight of it on me from the moment I entered the studios.

To add to the uncomfortable conditions, the building was pretty old and made creaking and moaning noises as it marginally cooled down overnight. The exposed pipes near the ceiling were especially noisy, making all sorts of awful, creepy groans. I'd mostly gotten used to them after a while.

Then one night it got worse.

I was in my cubicle, in the final stages of one of my larger ink drawings. I was painstakingly cleaning up some lines with a fine brush when suddenly there was a huge slamming noise, loud enough that I could hear it through my music and earbuds. I jolted, screwing up my line in the process, and hissed through my teeth.

"What was that?" I called out, taking out one earbud. I thought maybe one of the artists who worked in the far end cubicles had dropped something or fallen over, but there was no reply.

I cracked the door of my cubicle and peeked out, looking around either end of the hallway. Nothing seemed amiss, so I just closed my door again and went back to work. I assumed it was just a new pipe noise or something.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, I was trying to decide on a new playlist when it happened again. My music wasn't playing, so I heard it clearer this time - a loud BAM noise from the back building wall, several cubicles away from me. It almost sounded like some huge beast was outside, hurling its body against the side of the building, trying to get inside.

But that would be silly. This was the first time I'd stayed past midnight and these noises were probably normal at this time of night. I just hadn't heard them before.

I tried to focus on picking a playlist. The noise happened again. But this time, the brushes on my work table rattled in their mason jar from the force.

I stared at them. I'd never heard a building settle so hard that it made things move.

I suddenly had the feeling that something was very wrong. I felt queasy - my stomach tightened and churned. Maybe I was just not feeling well and the heat was exasperating it? I'd been working long hours and late nights in the studio, so it was possible I'd made myself sick. I felt the need to vomit, and I hoped it would make my nausea subside.

I pulled my earbuds out and left my studio, walking quickly to the bathroom. The slamming noise echoed out again, on the other side of the building. I locked the rickety bathroom door behind me, my moist palms sliding against the metal handle as I did so. The back of my neck felt wet, too, that sort of gross, warm moistness that comes with the Georgia heat.

I knelt by the toilet, face hovering over the bowl. I still felt sick but nothing was coming up. I pressed my fist into my stomach hard and tried to retch, but still nothing happened. The nausea was starting to make me dizzy. Did I get heat stroke or something?

The door rattled behind me.

"Someone's in here!" I called out, my voice warbling a little. Weird, I thought, since the studios had been quiet all night. I thought I was the only one there.

The door rattled harder, the whole thing shaking with the effort.

"Jesus," I muttered. Then, louder, "I said, it's occupied!"

The rattling increased and there was a loud BANG as something hit the door hard. I twisted around and stared, gripping the toilet seat, shocked. Who the fuck needed the bathroom that badly? Whoever was outside smacked the door hard again and I worried that the shitty, old wood would simply splinter under the force.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped. The rattling and banging just ceased. I stared at the door a little longer, wondering if the person outside had left yet. I didn't particularly want to run into them if a locked bathroom door was enough to make them throw a fit outside. I waited and waited, to be sure they left, so long that my nausea had subsided.

Put off by the whole experience, I quickly gathered my things from my studio and left for the night.

---

When I returned the next night, the heat was inexplicably worse than before. I couldn't even listen to music to distract myself this time. I was a little worried that whoever had given me a hard time in the bathroom would come back, and I didn't want to miss hearing them coming if for some reason they were on a warpath.

The relative silence of the studio was decidedly eerie. There was a faint buzz from the lights and the occasional groaning and moaning of old pipes, but otherwise you could hear a pin drop. I began to rethink my decision on the music because the silence was spooky and setting me on edge. I thought maybe I could play it on my phone's speaker so I could still hear someone coming. But then, if they were there and so quiet I couldn't hear them, playing music out loud might've pissed them off…

My train of thought was interrupted by that awful, thundering slamming noise from the far wall of the building. The great, hulking beast I had imagined was back.

Sweat began to gather on my palms and neck again and I put my brush down to wipe my hands on my pants. The air in the studio became so muggy that breathing suddenly felt like inhaling swamp water.

Hardly a moment later, there it was again - BAM. My paintbrushes rattled in the little jar. My first thought that maybe whoever had needed the bathroom yesterday was throwing another fit, but it really sounded like something massive hitting the wall. Something too massive for one person to hurl.

I once again had the distinct feeling that something was wrong. What would have the kind of force to make everything move like that? Was the old building going to collapse?

BAM - louder this time.

Maybe this was some bizzare, localized earthquake, I told myself. It didn't matter that I'd never heard of an earthquake that behaved this way. It seemed more likely than the alternative I imagined, that some huge beast was hurling its hairy, grotesque body against the walls.

I sat motionless, listening closely.

BAM. My door rattled.

There was no mistaking it that time. The sound wasn't getting louder - the source of it was just getting closer.

The monster I had imagined wasn't outside and trying to get in. It was already inside the building.

I stared, frozen in place, at my studio door. I felt ridiculous. How would some kind of monster large enough to shake the walls even get through the building's doors?

BAM. Even closer now.

BAM. It sounded like it was right outside my door. I could see the handle shake with the force. Something was definitely wrong. This wasn't an earthquake and it wasn't some deranged art student. There was something out there and it wanted to be in here, with me. I tried to take deep breaths to remain calm, but sucking in big gulps of warm, humid air just made me feel queasy again. I looked around, trying to find somewhere to hide, but my cubicle was bare - just a folding table and a stool. There was nowhere to go. I pressed myself against the corner of my cell, as far away from my door as possible.

There was a long moment where there was no sound - not the slamming, not the usual groaning of the pipes. I slid down to the hard concrete floor and waited. Perhaps it was over?

The door handle rattled, this time unaccompanied by any slamming noise.

My breath caught. Sweat dripped down my forehead. I stared, watching as the handle jiggled. Whatever was making it move seemed unable to turn it properly, just fumbling it around without getting it to unlatch.

I waited. The handle stopped moving.

There was another moment of dead silence. Then another new sound - fast, heavy, stomping footsteps, heading towards the section of hallway with the bathroom, table, and sink.

I got up and grabbed my phone and bag. I didn't know what the fuck was going on, but I couldn't stay there any longer.

There was a creaking noise, and then a terrible thumping sound, like something had just hit the ground hard. Then crashing, over in one of the cubicles on the far end, as though whatever had been in the hall had used the table in the critique area to hop the cubicle wall and was now making a mess inside. Another creak, another thump, more crashing, closer, just a few cubicles away.

I threw my cubicle door open. I just had to make it to the main door, but it was all the way on the other side of the building. I'd have to run around half the perimeter hallway to get there.

So I ran.

The beast, whatever it was, continued into another cubicle - creak, thump, crash. Then it paused as I rounded the first corner, my sneakers squeaking on the concrete. A terrible dread settled in my stomach. It was listening and it knew I was trying to leave. It didn't make any noise - no breathing, no wailing, no roaring - but I somehow still got the sense that it was pissed off by my attempted escape.

I rounded the second corner. I could see the door just ahead.

A creak. I looked at the tops of the cubicles as I ran for the door, but there was nothing there. No hairy beast hovering over the wall and dropping into the next studio. I slowed my running.

A thump. A crash. A creak.

I paused, my hand on the front door, my mouth gaping as I looked at the tops of the cubicles. I felt I had to see it, had to know I wasn't just crazy, but it seemed there was no beast to see.

Then I finally saw it, lurching over the wall, headed right for me. Warped air, shimmering, the way streets do on a hot day. A mass of heat made alive, barely visible unless you're looking closely. It was hard to tell the boundaries of it, but I could tell it was huge, fat enough that it nearly didn't fit in the cubicle it was lumbering out of.

It dropped down over the wall, landing in the hallway, with a thunderous thud.

I pushed the door open and ran into the night. I ran and ran and didn't look behind me. I didn't hear its thumping footsteps, but it was so difficult to see that looking might not have helped anyway.

I ran all the way back to my apartment, about a mile from campus. I slammed and locked the door behind me, blasted my air conditioner, and hid in my bed until morning.

---

I was eating a late breakfast, wondering if I'd somehow imagined the whole thing, when a friend called me.

"Were you in the studios last night?" she asked, a touch of panic in her voice, forgoing any pleasantries.

"No." The lie slipped out easily. I had that feeling of inexplicable dread again. "Why?"

"Apparently there was some huge break in," she said. "All the studios were trashed! It sounds like the people who did it didn't even take anything, they just… melted a bunch of stuff. Paintings, metals, anything meltable."

I struggled to think of an adequate response, just stared down at my soggy cereal. "Huh. Weird," I managed.

"Do you think they'll put some extra security on the building?" she asked. "It's weird they leave it unlocked all the time."

"No," I said, thinking of the broken air conditioning. "Knowing them, they'll probably just leave it, since no one got hurt."

---

I never told anyone what I saw that night. What would I even say? Who would believe me? Anyone would just assume I was crazy or suffering from heat exhaustion.

But I wish I'd at least tried.

I waited a week before going back to the studios to clean out my cubicle. I went during the day this time. I wouldn't be there long and I had encountered the creature at night so it seemed safer.

The building seemed empty when I arrived, but as soon as I opened the doors there was a terrible smell. It was sickly-sweet and sour, like trash left out in the sun. I pinched my nose as I rounded the corners to my cubicle, but the smell only got worse. It was so overpowering as I rounded the second corner that I considered cutting my losses and just leaving.

The cubicle door on the end was left wide open. Was someone in here working? I looked inside as I passed, then froze.

There, huddled under the table as though hiding from something, was a body. It was withered as though there for some time, almost mummy-like, the skin leathery and dry like beef jerky. The eyes were wide open, dry little balls pointed right in my direction.

I didn't scream. I just turned around, walked out of the building, and called the police.

---

The autopsy said the student died of dehydration and heat stroke. The news reported it as some sort of freak accident, a student that got so lost in their art that they stopped taking care of themselves and passed out in that hot studio, baking alive until they finally died.

The air conditioning finally got fixed after that.