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ew-selfish-art · 9 months

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Dp x Dc AU: Danny's final Interview with Tim Drake for the Wayne Enterprise's Space Program Operation Janus Crew... Demon Twin AU.

Danny had been waiting for his offer letter from WE to be officially part of the Janus Crew. He'd done all the standard rigorous testing and passed with flying colors. He'd talked to every single head engineer and interviewed at all levels to prove that he was the man for this mission. It was as good as gold, so Danny was surprised when he got a call from the PA to Tim Drake, the CEO himself, to come in for a final interview. Just a formality and mostly just to meet the man who was going to be the poster boy for their program. Makes sense, but is unnerving, nonetheless.

The second he walks into the office space, Tam Fox seemingly does a double take, blinking a few times when he explains that he's there for a final interview. She nods and he proceeds as if nothing about that was weird.

Tim Drake has four laptops in front of him and a scattering of papers, but looking up to see Danny, he closes them all and the image of a scattered young man trying to run a Fortune 500 company is replaced with some one of deadly capability.

"Danny Fenton. Great to meet you, I appreciate you coming by today." Tim says, but Danny can see the sharks fin in the water.

"Of course, I'm excited to be part of the Crew." Danny throws back, making it clear right away that Tim needs to cut to the chase if Danny's not going to be an astronaut with WE. NASA will take him back in a heartbeat if WE is going to try and play games.

"We're excited to have you, everyone speaks of you like the next Armstrong or Aldrin. I just had a few questions, as an informality, that I wanted answered."

"I feel like I've answered every question there could be about me, but go ahead. I'm an open book."

"Great. I suppose I'll start with asking about your adoptive family, the Fentons. Were they good to you when you transitioned to their home?"

"...It's not common knowledge that I'm adopted. Mom and Dad are fine. We have a strained relationship now because of my teenage rebellion but I still go home for most holidays." Danny is on edge, but also a bit excited? How did Tim find this out?

"I see. I'm an adopted child myself, you can understand maybe why I asked. Do you have any relationship with your birth family?" Tim asks, but its clear he's asking something else. Danny calls it how he sees it.

"What are you trying to find out? I mean really, you're very polite but this doesn't have to do with my job."

"I'll cut to the chase then. Do you hold any allegiance to Ra's al Ghul or the League of Assassins?"

"Woah." Danny blinks.

"Woah as in you're surprised I found out, or Woah in surprise that you've been found out?"

"Woah as in, what the fuck, I haven't thought of his name in decades. I escaped pretty young after being abused from birth."

"That's what I needed to know. You have a sister through the Fentons, and a cousin that I suspect is a clone, any other siblings?" Tim asks, his to the point question making Danny's head spin. How the fuck did this guy know about Dani?

"How do you-"

"Any other siblings, Danny?" Tim repeats, cutting him off.

"...Yeah. I should have a twin running around out there. But if this has to do with whatever crazy bullshit he might be up to, I swear i'm not in contact with him or his family. I haven't been since I freed myself."

Tim looks like he's contemplating something, his eyes are still evaluating Danny as though he were a frog in freshman year Bio.

"I have a little brother, Danny, and it's interesting. He's not particularly fascinated by space but he likes to keep up with all the astronauts. I took it upon myself to research you once you came on the roster two years ago for this position. I know you're capable and I had no doubt that you'd be the man for the job. Then I saw your picture."

"You... saw my picture?"

"My brother watches out for Astronauts because he holds onto the hope that someone from his past might be one some day. That it might lead to their reconciliation." Tim clarifies.

Danny can't do anything but stare. No. No way.

"I told Damian not to look into the astronauts for the Janus Crew. Want to guess why?" For the first time, Tim's eyes look soft around the edges. Danny stays silent for a while, head reeling from this information.

"...Is he. Is he free?" Danny finally asks.

"He's left the league and burned all allegiance he held for them, if that's what you're asking. Came to join his dad, my adoptive father, when he was about ten. So just a few years after you made your own way out without him."

"That's... That's good. I'm glad. He's healthy?" Danny can't help himself but inquire. He'd loved his brother until it literally broke him.

"Most days. He runs an animal sanctuary, has a girlfriend and a best friend, gets along with our large family."

"Woah." Danny's near speechless again.

"I'm telling you this because... He's going to find out Friday with the press release of you being our Crew Leader. He'll see you and no doubt try to contact you. I want you to have the choice of reaching out to him before that, or at least make your peace with what you have to say to him if you don't want a relationship."

"Why?"

"Because I don't care to see my siblings hurt. Here, it's my personal line, below it is Damian's. Reach out to me if you'd like for me to plan a meeting spot, reach out to him if you'd prefer I stay out of it. I understand completely if my questions have led you to not trust me." Tim offers him a piece of paper with two phone numbers on it, Danny takes it with shaking hands.

"I... See. Okay." and then after a moment, Danny added numbly "Thanks."

Tim stands and Danny follows, they're both walking towards the door and Danny can't help but feel like he's waiting for another shoe to drop. Tim has a look in his eye like Jazz might on his birthday.

"One last thing before you go and you're officially listed as our star Astronaut: I took care of those pesky case files and lab reports for you. The white ones. It is quite literally impossible for that heinous shit to every bother you again."

"Wait, What? Why would you do that for me? You couldn't have known-"

"It's what family is for. Have a good day, Janus Crew Lead Danny."

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc crossover #dp crossover #danny phantom #tim drake #long post #dc x dp fic #eheheehe tim is always in the know #nothing can be buried from him. he will find every record #i like to think that Danny joins for a wayne family sunday brunch after his mission in the stars #demon twin au #damian and danny are twins #danny and damian are twins #astronaut danny au

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audhd-nightwing · 7 months

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batfam as new girl quotes

steph: where are you, tim? this place is fancy and i don’t know which fork to kill myself with.

***

dick (16 y/o): i’ll take you through the whole thing. i’ll be like your guide.

jason (13 y/o): like gandalf through middle-earth?

dick: ok, first of all, let’s take the Lord of the Rings references and put them in a deep, dark cave where no one will ever find them.

jason: except smeagol. he lives in a cave.

***

tim: you text me “happy monday.” what am i supposed to do with that?

damian: oh, i don’t know. maybe have a happy monday?

(he’s trying to be nice)

***

jason: would you consider us adorable?

dick: no! we’re adult men.

dick: we’re cute.

***

cass: you always see the worst in people.

damian: yeah, because people are the worst!

***

steph: i mean, bruce, we love you, but…

steph: but you’re not a man of the people.

bruce: of course i’m not a man of the people. i’m above the people.

***

cass: we’re a family. families talk about things.

jason: no, families ignore things until they go away.

***

new parent bruce: dick, do you want to go to sleep?

9 y/o dick: no way.

bruce: if you do, i’ll write you a check for $6,000.

***

duke: what are you doing in here?

tim: eating cookies and avoiding confrontation.

(in the bathroom at a gala)

***

steph: jason, come on, that’s like the president and the vice president not being best friends.

jason: they’re not best friends.

steph: come on. everybody knows they’re best friends.

***

dick: i’m in love!

damian: titus, clear my schedule. i need a word with our brother.

***

steph: duke, those shoes are not brown! they’re green!

duke: you guys are idiots! they’re as brown as money.

cass: what color is kermit the frog?

duke: brown! he’s a brown frog.

tim: duke! you’re color blind, dude.

***

bruce: darn it! has anyone seen my croquet cleats?

***

tim: hey guys, do you think i’m a good person?

steph: you’re a terrible person. it’s hilarious.

***

dick: i’m very quick on my… uh…

jason: did you just forget the word ‘feet’?

dick: feet, yeah.

(he’s been awake for 72 hours without sleep)

***

duke: i can’t believe i didn’t notice this before but damian, you are legitimately crazy.

damian: i think we’re all a little bit crazy, don’t you, thomas?

duke: no, i mean, you’re like aging ballerina, child chess prodigy, professional magician crazy.

damian: it’s my grandfather’s fault.

duke: yeah okay fair enough

***

tim: if i was doing something stupid, you definitely would be involved.

dick: yeah, you’re damn right i would be. and i would probably be there to make it even stupider.

***

bruce: has anyone seen my good pea coat?

***

steph: i brake for birds. i rock a lot of polka dots. i have touched glitter in the last 24 hours!

steph: and that doesn’t mean i’m not smart and tough and strong.

***

jason: are you insane, bruce? we’re not ready.

jason: that’s like taking a musical from rehearsals straight to broadway. you got to workshop it first.

(pushing the theatre kid jason agenda)

***

dick: you realize i say goodnight to you every night and you never say goodnight back?

dick: what is the problem, jason? do you not want me to have a good night?

jason: oh my god you’re so overdramatic

***

tim: please don’t mistake my measured blank tone for calmness, as i am filled with waters of rage.

(he’s at a gala)

***

bruce: damn it! i can’t find my driving moccasins anywhere!

***

duke: what a dumb idea.

duke: do it.

(he is an enabler)

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hiael · 7 months

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Obey Me! Headcanons that the voices in my head created

The pact marks don't affect the MC in general, but when they are used, the color of the user's eyes tends to change to the color of sin (when Solomon sees the color of his eyes changing to the colors of his brothers, geez, jealousy boy), it happens more often than you think and in addition to the marks on the body, it's a reminder to everyone that you're connected with the lords of hell.

Human beings can speak very quickly and neither demons nor angels can keep up when this happens. Scientifically, we talk fast because of anxiety, nervousness, excitement or the communication conditions that the environment provides. Solomon and MC talking about something they thought was cool during the tea? For the others it becomes a RAP battle and all they can hear is "hum, nah, ha, hehe", the rest is indecipherable. More than once, during a presentation or debate in class, MC was told to shut the fuck up or slow down so that everyone could understand.

All material related to the history of the human world is more or less 100 to 200 years out of date in the library. Satan is slowly trying to update this, but they think that 200 years is almost nothing for humans to change, so unlike technology (which they think they created with magic) they just don't care. A new iPhone ok, now the human being landed on the moon during a bloodless war? Their lie, do you still believe what mortals say?

Humans sleep more than angels and demons, but even less than demons from the circle of laziness. MC, Solomon and Belphie (and sometimes Luke) usually sleep in some places at RAD during and between classes.

All exchange students have their own fan club. Luke's must be the quietest, everyone friendly and kind so as not to disappoint the little angel. Did you see him walking past you today, sad that he hadn't managed to buy a keyring at the RAD art fair? Bitch surprise, his fan club are still demons, the keyring will mysteriously appear on his desk in the classroom written "To Luke, a little big ray of sunshine in our lives" and the person who bought it has left the RAD, anyone know why?

Still on the subject of fan clubs, we're not talking about Solomon's. If the number of demons he has a pact with isn't enough of a warning, there are others walking around in capes and blouses as if they were cosplayers and sending letters to his house with phrases like 'roses are red, violets are blue, can we make a pact? Signed: Demon X' should be a better warning

And to end the fan clubs, MC's are trained in the art of being meticulous, a silent army that lives in the shadows - meaning they are in the devildom version of twitter. Lots of photos taken on the sly, fanart of all kinds, fanfics, merchandise and videos edits of (and when were they sheep? There are millions and millions of images circulating out there). Ever wondered why Miss Em sold so much? The MC fandom. They won't compete with anyone for their attention, the sweet human is simply appreciated the way they are (and they don't want to be on the brothers' list to "get away from the MC"). The Human Appreciation Club was not approved by the student council and they removed their devilpedia page, but that didn't erase these demons desire to idolize MCs. Live, love and laugh for MC, the way simps are.

At some point, the Real or Cake trend went crazy until Luke, who started making desserts that looked like everyday things, only stopped after surprising Simeon by cutting a cell phone-shaped cake (Simeon tried to break his with his hand after that, thinking it was cake. He spent 3 weeks without a phone)

Every time MC returns from a trip to the human world, they have to bring a suitcase just with souvenirs from there. Luckily, it can be anything they find fun, like a frog-shaped coaster, a jar of M&Ms with a pinwheel on top, a whole corn cake, a tie with a motivational quote, a children's book, or a coin of a specific year. Everyone just loves the fact that MC was thinking of them and they love using the gift they received. Barbatos's favorite tea set is now a completely transparent one with gold floral details.

Children's cartoons from 1940 still show on Devildom TV and Beel watches while eating or working out.

Lucifer has a family photo inside his wallet, Mammon once tried to steal his credit card, he was so shocked that he ended up screaming, he was caught and punish. Neither of them mention the photo.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me barbatos #obey me hcs #obey me headcanons

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50-beetles · 2 years

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ROTTMNT Headcanons

Turtle Biology! (All hc’s are based on facts about their species of turtle!)

They all brumate (hibernation for reptiles) a little bit. Donnie and Leo have it the worst. It mostly entails them sleeping a lot when it gets super cold.

While they really enjoy human food, each of them enjoy turtle food to a degree (Mikey-least, Donnie-most)

Donnie

Ate a frog for $25 once and liked it and now he freaks Mikey out with it

He can swim the fastest, but sucks at running

When he was very, very little he bit Raph hard enough to draw blood

His bite is just a powerful as Raph’s but he doesn’t brag about it because he would never put something unclean in his mouth (w/o adequate compensation)

Leo

Ate a frog for $5 once and liked it so he and Donnie gang up on Mikey to freak him out

He likes nonverbal communication a lot and prefers it when he’s in a mood

He sunbathes and tries to convince the others to come with him

When it gets super cold he and Donnie bundle up for what Donnie calls “The Brumation Period” and Leo calls “The Super Nap” and they just sleep on the couch together for like three straight days

Raph

He once bit through a table leg

When the temperature gets crazy he gets picky and really fussy

When it gets too cold he takes long naps in his room and enjoys alone time all cuddled up. He leaves the door cracked so that he can still hear his family

He does that thing when swimming where he’ll grab peoples ankles underwater (will cry if someone grabs his ankles)

Has a great sense of smell

Mikey

Was terrified of water growing up and didn’t learn how to swim until very recently

Used to tease Donnie that he could go in his shell so effortlessly while Donnie couldn’t at all (before his battle shell)

When brumation time rolls around Mikey’s room becomes a total mess and he just collects all kinds of garbage that he surrounds himself with

Ate a bug once too see if he liked it as much as his brothers liked their turtle food and he thought it was gross

#rottmnt #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #turtle facts

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phoenixkaptain · 1 month

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I love Stardew Valley and I love the community and I love how we all bond over pixelated chickens like we’re seventy-year-old women bonding over grandchildren- - -

But I get so annoyed with the character hate, like!!! All the characters are great!! All the romance-able characters are great!! I keep getting recommended videos about the bad parts of characters and I just want to scream!!

Penny: lovely. Charming. Kids are a big part of dating her because she teaches kids, of course she’s going to react a bit badly if you hate children. She is trying to teach kids so that they don’t have to have the same life she and her mother do, why do you hate this woman who is just anxious?

Shane: lovely. Charming. Perfect. “He still drinks after we get married, which ruins the whole story” NO. No. Shane is an alcoholic, and a severe one. If he quit cold-turkey, he would fucking die. “Harvey pumped his stomach” HE WOULD DIE. And I don’t care that my husband is messy, he has his own room and I don’t have to go over there!!

Maru: lovely. Charming. She hates working. She loves working on machines. She thinks about machines to build for you to make life easier. She’s adorable. She has a complicated relationship with her brother and I want to help them fix it goddangit because I love fictional siblings.

Elliott: lovely. Charming. An artist. He only leaves his home for like four hours a day. I can really relate to the desire to shave off all of one’s own hair. I feel that in my bones. Also, is friends with Willy and I fucking love Willy so A++

Leah: “she’s a lesbian” She’s fucking bi stop erasing bi rep in Bi Rep the Video Game

Sam: he’s a musician and a skater. This is what the perfect man looks like.

Emily: just the most charming. She has a complicated relationship with her sister because she takes care of her. She works at a saloon, how can someone not love a literal saloon worker? She’s crazy, she’s wild, she’s a flower child, I’m in love with her

Harvey: glasses. Doctor man. Occasionally puts on headphones to not so subtly hint that he doesn’t want to talk to you. This is what the perfect man looks lik-

Abigail: I don’t see a lot of people complain about Abigal, but I’ve seen a few and it just feels like- you guys love Sebastian so much but don’t like Abigail? What type of double standard is this?

Alex: everyone always says not to date him if your playing a female farmer, but honestly, his dialogue only cuts out parts if you play male. Like, he still says he felt different about you from day one even if you’re playing as a girl. The character affected the most by your gender choice in regards to dating Alex is George, and if you’ve already befriended George, he’ll apologize for being mean about your sexuality when he never even said anything mean about your sexuality, which is kind of funny

I never see people complain about Haley or Sebastian, which is fair, because Haley has a cute character arc and Sebastian loves frogs (this is what the perfect man lo-) My only problem is that people praise these two but rag on everyone else when I feel like all the characters are balanced pretty evenly in terms of good-bad traits.

Which trait is which is dependent on the person playing the game anyway, so when someone like me plays, I can’t help but find the characters perfect because I’m very forgiving when it comes to fictional characters’ undesirable traits. I mean, my favourite trait of all is stupidity, pure and unbridled, I’m talking facepalm-inducing, groan-worthy, the type of character people complain about the most; the type of stupid that makes people stop enjoying things. How can I dislike these characters who are cute and a bit awkward and so ready to bed the first hot farmer they come across even when that farmer sifts through their trash and passes out three steps away from their own house and drinks mayonnaise and would eat hay given half the chance. Like come on. They’re all moron-sexual. I can relate to that.

In conclusion: your favourite bachelor and/or bachelorette is as wonderful as you think they are and screw the people who try to tell you otherwise. The characters are great because they appeal to different people. Enjoy the game and enjoy the dating and I swear to God if I see another person say that certain farm layouts are bad because they don’t make enough money- the game doesn’t have a time limit! You can make as much money as you want! You could sell one sap everyday and nothing else and you would still be able to make it to however much money you desire to have. There’s not really a fast way to make ten billion gold, that doesn’t mean that the farm layouts you don’t like are bad and yes I’m ranting just because I love the slopes of the mining farm its layout is chamrjng and picturesque and provides a unique challenge to decorating and placing buildings and it’s actually the BEST farm layout because I just decided so and-!

Stardew Valley is a great game, 10/10 would recommend, and the new update is already great because I found carrot seeds and I like carrots :)

#the inane ramblings of a madman #stardew valley #stardew valley bachelors #stardew valley bachelorettes #i can judge all the characters pretty equally #because my fave partner is krobus #i love my creechur #he gives me hugs!!!#he waddles around my house!!!#i love this guy i want to give him all the hugs in the world #no joke he moved in and i hugged him like twenty times just because i could #krobus for bestest guy in the game #i love shane and penny was my first wifey and sebastian puts frogs in my home #but krobus man #🤌🤌🤌#long post #ignore me i’ve been seeing things with mine eyes and it doth cause me great bother

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shockinglyangel · 22 days

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RECONCILIACION - TOM RIDDLE x Fem!reader

MATURE, Warnings: Porn with plot, Haven’t seen each other in over a decade, 18+, NSFW, Fingering, lots of description, Penis in vag penetration, Unprotected sex, Breeding

NOT PROOFREAD

PROFESSOR TOM!!!!

Looking like my sexy husband Tom Hughes

Nom nom nom

Reader and Tom are like 32 (mwahahaha, I like my men old)

WORDCOUNT: 3195 (fucking crazy)

"Matilda!" You shouted out to the young child as she darted up the stairs, her older brother dragging her along with him, his hand gripping on her arm as they marched further and further away from you.

"Hurry up, mum!" Finley shouted back to you, not thinking to turn his head around as he continued his trek up the many steps in front of him.

You shook your head with a smile, holding your dress up with one hand while the other was out to help you balance. You were taking your kids to their first day of school.

Your husband worked overseas most of the time, alongside the MACUSA, you'd been married for the last sixteen years now, it was a good marriage, only due to the fact that he was never around for their to be any troubles. He of course comes back for your children's big achievements, and by that I mean birthdays and Christmas, he hadn't the time to be able to come back for all the mundane things, that's what made it so perfect.

There were no room for trials and tribulations.

"Finley darling, will you come here please," you scoffed at the young boy as he let go of his younger sisters arm, Finley was now fourteen, Matilda was twelve, it was her first day at Hogwarts, but bless her sweet heart, she was so nervous about it all; which was why you made the decision to bring her yourself. "You have chocolate on your face"

Your son stopped awaiting for you to do something embarrassing as always, young boys always do.

You moved toward him, grabbing a handkerchief from your small bag and adding a dot of saliva to it before wiping the boys face. "Mum!" He grimaced, bringing his hand to his face and pulling himself away from you.

You smiled happily. "I told you not to eat all those chocolate frogs in one go."

He shrugged and walked ahead again, causing you to take your other child's hand and bring her towards the large wooden doors, through the courtyard.

You hadn't been here in years, not since the age of eighteen, but much differed from now and then, and a lot had changed.

You too looked around as you entered the doors from the outside, the sound of your shoes clicking on the floor as they hit the concrete. The sound was all so familiar as it danced around the corridor, the echo being deafening to one's ears.

"Ah, Mr. Starwall," a man looked down to your young boy, his hands deep in the pockets of his suit trousers. "Thought you'd decided not to make a show this year."

Finley stared up at the tall man, giving him a smile. "This is my sister, Matilda," he pointed to the girl who was cowering behind you, her hand tightly laced with yours. "She's a bit nervous."

The man looked away from your son and stirred his gaze to your daughter, leaning out to meet her eyes, his hand slipping from his pocket. "I am professor Riddle, your brothers head of year."

You eyebrows furrowed and eyes went wide as you heard that particular name, one you had never thought be to aware of for the rest of your life. It couldn't be, could it?

The teacher stood up straight now, looking to find you, your eyes found his face with much haste and you took a deep breath, blinking a few times as your thoughts were confirmed. "Mrs," he looked at you, taking in your expression before standing slightly back from you. "Starwall."

It pained him not to say your name, to not be able to call you by your actual name, the one that he remembers falling from his lips so effortlessly in the past. But he needed to be professional, and he needed to be a good influence for the children.

"I want to go see my friends," Finley jumped around, eager to run off into the great hall. "Mum, can I go see my friends, please?" He gave you a wide smile, excitement painting his face.

Tom looked down to the boy, before moving his head towards the door, looking to where Finley's friends were wavering him to come. "Son, why don't you take your sister into the hall to join in with the feast?"

The boy nodded happily, grabbing the younger girls hair and pulling her through the doors and into the hall, the poor girl scurrying after him, leaving you and Tom alone.

"Don't you dare call him that," you took another deep breath, looking up to Riddle who seemed to be contemplating his next move, his eyes still on the two children as they joined the Slytherin bench, a teacher immediately coming over to pull Matilda away to get sorted. "You have no right."

"Is that one mine too?" He turned back to face you, his eyes finding yours in no time.

You scoffed. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Well?" Tom tilted his head slightly to the side, standing in front of you, pulling your attention from your children and to him.

"No!" You let out a breath, trying your best not to let yourself boil over. "There's a two years difference."

Tom nodded. "So it's only Finley?" He raised his eyebrows to look at you, making sure that he had the story right, although it seemed like he was questioning the legitimacy of the situation.

"Finley is barely yours," you gritted your teeth, the fact that you couldn't get him to at all falter was driving you insane, he always drove you insane. "You never made an effort."

He let out a puff of air, a small smirk on his face. "And your husband does?" You went to open your mouth to speak, to silence him in some way, but he interrupted. "Your son says otherwise."

You lifted a finger to raise it at him, your blood boiling, your face beginning to turn red with anger. "My marriage is none of your business."

"It is when he is fathering my son." Tom grabbed your wrist, pulling it down, his fingers still gripping tight.

"He is not your son!"

Professor Riddle rolled his eyes as you repeated yourself, he looked back to the great hall, watching as Matilda got taken up to the stage, the sorting hat being placed on her head. "We are not going over this again." He pulled you towards a door and through another hallway, his hand still on your wrist so you couldn't try to pull yourself away.

You stumbled forward as he let go of your arm, pushing you into the room and following behind, slamming the door closed as you entered a large office, most likely not belonging to him. "Let me out."

He scoffed, leaning against the door and folding his arms. "Do not even try to leave," he pushed himself up from the door, making his way over to the large, wooden desk which was placed in the middle of the room. "We seem to have much to talk about."

"God, Riddle. I don't want to talk to you about this." You trudged after him, stomping on the ground as you made your way over to the desk as well.

He sat down on the desk, leaning against it slightly, his fingers squeezing into the edge of the table, his feet folded over one another. "You don't have a say in this," you stood beside him. "I have been doing nothing but going by my life under your command, don't you think I at least deserve an explanation?"

You looked at him speechless, he was right. He'd never once tried to contact you after you told him to leave you alone, after you told him that you had a family to take care of. Even when under circumstance, it was his too.

Tom tilted his head to the side. "The amount of letters I had to discard because you said you didn't want to hear from me," he stood back up again, moving closer to you as you eyed him. "The times when you refused to speak to me, to tell me how our boy was doing," he stopped for a moment, standing right in front of you now, lowering his head, his eyes bore into yours. "Did I deserve that? Was it some kind of sick revenge?"

You shook your head, your gaze not leaving his. "Riddle,"

"Tom," he stopped you, taking your hand into his, bringing it up to his face, his eyes never leaving your own as he placed a soft kiss on your wrist. "It's Tom."

Your breath hitched in your throat, for all those years that you were confound to him, you were never allowed to call him by his first name, it reminded him too much of his beginning, his childhood, the things that he was so desperate to forget. "Stop it."

He shook his head, lowering your hand slightly, his grip still on your wrist. "I fear I cannot," you blinked a few times, your breath quickening at his words, so simple, so small, he was always a sweet talker. "Don't make me."

You were an addiction for him as he was for you, the poison dripping from the vine, something neither of you should digest, but God the taste. The taste was ever so powerful.

And he missed that flavour.

He wasted no time to bring you into a harsh kiss, taking a deep breath as his lips latch onto yours, breathing you in as if the scent of your soul was enough to expand his life expectancy. Pulling you closer to him, he removed his hand from your wrist, one of his going to your cheek while the other travelled down to your waist, holding you tightly over the cotton fabric of your dress, feeling the silhouette of your body under the bones of his fingers. Deeply wishing for the desirable feeling of his skin on yours.

Your tongues were quick to deny all logical solution and understanding, exploring each others mouths as if it was the last thing you could do, perhaps you would find all the empty promises and unfulfilled truths that he told you, while he searched for the regrettable words that you once said to him. Did you still wish you never said them?

"Tom!" You gasped into the kiss as he turned you around, lifting you onto the desk he begins to run his hand up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher up your legs in desperation to feel something, he needed to know if it was the same, did age change you, or did your body still belong to him?

He kissed you harder now, his chest pressed to yours as he ignored all rational thinking, pushing you further and further in hopes to get what he needed, he knew you needed it too. "Don't make me stop." He repeated absentmindedly, struggling to conjure a single thought as he lost himself in the kiss, the taste of your mouth reviving feeling that he buried long ago.

You allowed yourself to be whisked away, a hand returning his intimate gesture as you placed it on his face, feeling the soft skin under your hand, the heat of his reddened cheeks rising the temperature of your touch. Your other hand found his bicep, gripping him through his suit jacket.

Tom would never allow his proud self to admit it, but he was falling victim to you, the same way that you used to be to him. He would submit to you if you asked him to, he would never refuse the opportunity of being completely under your mercy.

But right now, right now you were under his.

He let go of your waist, not breaking from the kiss as his hand moved past your thigh and to your core, his hand pushing past your underwear and entering two fingers into you without another thought.

You let out a yelp, accidentally biting his lip as you clenched around his fingers, earning a rewarding growl from him as he began to move his fingers inside of you.

"Oh," you pulled back from the kiss slightly, your lips attached by a thin string of saliva. "Oh, Tom."

Sex with your husband was fine when he was home, it would be a lie to claim that it was terrible. However it was never fulfilling, it was always about creating babies, it has always been about that. You decided to go on the potion after your second, Matilda was born, knowing that he wanted another, although you were not ready, you would never be ready, not for that anyway. He'd been wondering for the past decade about why you couldn't get pregnant anymore, you told him to take it as a sign from the universe that two was enough for your family, he had different ideology, he stated that your biological clock was on its last legs and that it was about to stop ticking.

Now you were an alive corpse to him, rather than a wife.

"Tom." You whined against his lips as he brought you into another kiss, his fingers deep inside you as he tried to find those lost moans and whimpers that he knew you could give him. Your sounds were music to his ears.

He pulled away from you, removing his fingers and placing his hand on your thigh for a moment, the wetness from his fingers painting your skin with your juices.

Finally letting go of your thigh, he stood up straight, his head pointed down to look at his feet as his hand hastily fumbled to remove his belt buckle, needing the sweet relief that he knew you could give him, even after all these years, you were willing to please him.

You brought your hands to the table, holding yourself up as you watched him, pushing any thought out of your mind in the hopes of having something of him again, whether it be a simple kiss to the temple, or the opportunity to ravish each others bodies once more, you just wanted him.

Finally he pulled it off, his hand grabbing on your thigh again as he brought your leg around his waist, his other hand going down to his length, watching you with a heaving chest as he aligned himself up with you, your dress concealing all that the lord above would not agree with.

For it was with Tom that you would cheat on your husband with.

He pushed himself inside of you, gripping your waist harder as he filled you completely, your hand coming to his side under his suit jacket, hiding your wedding ring under the clothes of your past lover.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," Tom groaned against you, beginning to rock his hips back and forth, his jaw clenched. "How long I've been waiting for you to come back to me, to have you, to hold you, to - fuck."

You nodded, throwing your head back as he fastened his pace your other arm struggling to keep your balanced as the desk rocked under you. "I've missed this so much." You let out a soft cry from under him.

He looked down again, his hand coming back up to your head, holding you up by the back of your neck, as if he was cradling something he worried could be broken. "He doesn't fuck you like this, does he?"

You shook your head, swallowing as your eyes threatened to close on you. "No, he barely fucks me at all." You admitted.

Tom sped up his pace again, his hips rutting into yours at a speed only he could hit. "He's in ownership of the most beautiful thing, and yet he doesn't know how to treat her?" He forced your head up to look at him. "He doesn't take advantage of this slick cunt?"

You shook your head another time, struggling to say anything as you tried to keep up with his movements, your hand beginning to slip from behind you.

"Or does it only get so wet for me?" Tom asked as he pulled your thigh up higher, causing you to slip back even more. "Answer me!"

You let out a string of moans before answering, not wanting to be too loud. "Yes," you finally breathed out, your mouth falling open. "It only gets wet for you."

Tom smirked and pulled your thigh higher, causing you to fall back onto the desk, your hand coming down to his forearm as he removed it from your head, running his fingers up your thigh before pushing your dress high enough to reveal the connection, his hand now on your waist as he rammed into you harder. "You've always belonged to me, haven't you?" The question came out more of a question of reassurance rather than an rhetorical one.

"Yes." You whined, your nails ripping into the skin of his arm as he fucked you.

He nodded, pushing his tongue to his cheek as he felt himself getting nearer and nearer to his destination, and by the looks of you and the reactions of your body, you were nearing yours too. "You're so beautiful." He admitted, something that had never left his mouth before, not in so little words. "So fucking perfect, moulded perfectly for me," he looked back down to you another time. "For me, yes?"

You nodded again, "for you, Tom, only for you."

He repaid you with a nod too, a slight motion of understanding and vulnerability as he continued his movements, his forehead becoming clad with sweat as his hair began to get stuck on it. "Cum for me then," he bit his lip. "Show me how good I make you feel, how only I can make you feel."

You arched your back at the sound of his words, your eyes forcing shut as your let out a long whine. "Inside of me." You ordered through a breathy moan.

Tom couldn't help but chuckle as you said this, knowing how badly you wanted this made him even more ramped up for the finish. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

He moved his hand to your stomach as he felt you clenching around him, your body shaking as he pressed down on the sensitive skin, forcing you to hit your climax with such speed and agility, your movements and reaction milking him of his as he began to fill you, a stream of sweat dripping from his forehead and onto the ground as he attempted to keep himself stationed, though your body was enough to make the man fold.

And now you had even more to talk about.

#harry potter #slytherin boys react #slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #smut

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sapphic-coded · 2 months

Text

I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun

You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.

Series Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Violence. Reader is a messed up assassin and misses her gun home. Childhood trauma hanging out in the background. Hunted animals. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Life has been crazy. It still is. But this series is so much fun to write. Please know that your comments and love have kept my days bright. I read all your comments. Your likes and reblogs make me do my happy dance. It makes me happy that you guys are enjoying this series as much as I am. I apologize for the wait. I hope this new chapter makes up for it!

Taglist: @natsxwife @iliketozoneout @newawakening9 @natasha-1million @ilovemcuff @taliiiaasteria @alowint @yerisdumbass @natashasilverfox @fxckmiup

Chapter Eight: You Can't Raise Hell With A Saint

Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1993

You watched the station wagon slowly back out of your driveway from your bedroom window. As you watched, you folded and then unfolded the piece of paper in your hand several times. Your father’s departing words echoed in the back of your mind.

“This is vital to maintaining our relationship with our allies. Remember. When the time comes, we must position ourselves on the correct side.”

You waited until the station wagon disappeared from view before your attention shifted onto the snowman across the street. Your father is gone for the weekend. Your assigned homework is already completed and buried in your backpack. You had hoped for two uninterrupted days with your friend. You two had discovered a perfect hill for sledding not too far away. You had hoped you could return to it this weekend with Nat. But before your father had left, he had given you an assignment. One you were not allowed to ignore.

But if you finish it quickly like your homework…

You turned away from the window and got dressed. The house was quiet as you descended the stairs and hunted through the kitchen for breakfast. Your father had given both your brother and sister assignments. You figured your siblings were already out doing them. You found an opened pack of pop-tarts hidden behind the jar of two dead mating frogs. You ate the delicious blueberry pop-tart and washed it down with tap water from the sink. Once breakfast was done, you pulled on your snow boots and put on your heavy winter coat. You unfolded your father’s note once more to reread the words hastily scribbled in fine black ink. Then, you refolded up the note and shoved it into your coat’s pocket.

You left out the back door and pulled on your gloves as the morning winter air scratched at your face. The snow crunched beneath your boots as you headed towards the treeline. The woods behind your house stretched onwards for roughly two miles. It was one of the reasons why your father had chosen to settle here. He could disappear into this patch of quiet woodland and no one but you and your siblings would know.

For a while, the only noise was the steady rhythm of your footsteps and the chirping of birdsong as you left your house behind and walked deep into the woods. The sunlight shone brightly off the surface of the snow and made your eyes water if you stared at it for too long. You felt the wind beginning to pick up and blow against your back as you walked. Your pace did not slow until you reached the base of a tree with a dead hare hanging from a snare.

You knelt down into the cold snow and pulled your hunting knife from your coat pocket. You cut the rope and lifted the dead animal up by the rope’s lead. Its dark lifeless eyes stared at you and you searched for any ounce of pity. When you didn’t find any, you stood up and continued walking. The weight of the hare hanging from the small noose made you feel less alone. You kept walking until you spotted a smooth, round rock. You picked it up and it nearly covered your whole palm.

You tied the end of the rope around the rock as you continued further into the woods. The light of the sun had started to dim when you finally reached a large pond. Your feet carried you to a narrow dock that stretched out over the water. The wooden boards groaned beneath your feet as you came to the end of the dock. You looked down into the dark water. It hadn’t frozen over yet which made your assignment easier. The wind continued to blow at your back as you tossed the dead hare into the water. The lifeless animal hit the cold water with a splash and floated on the pond’s surface for a moment. Then the dark water pulled the dead hare down into its depths. You waited for some kind of response. A sign that your assignment was complete. But nothing happened. So you turned and started the trek home.

Your thoughts returned to your friend as you began following your footprints back the way you came. You would have the whole rest of the day to do whatever you wanted. And tomorrow you wouldn’t have to waste any time with another assignment. Your immediate future was bright and that fueled your quick pace.

But your pace started to slow when you lost sight of your footprints in the snow. The wind that had been blowing must have covered them up. You ignored the first sour taste of fear and kept going. You had planned to just follow your tracks back home, but you could make it back without them. You had only gone in one direction. It wouldn’t be difficult to find your way back home. You shoved your gloved hands into the pockets of your heavy coat as the wind now blew against your face.

The light of the sun continued to fade as you made new tracks in the snow. You were going in the right direction. You had to be. But you spotted new bushes and weird leaning trees that you hadn’t seen before. You felt yourself shivering against the cold as the light faded into the coming dark. You kept walking until you finally leaned against a tree and sank towards the freezing ground. You closed your eyes and tried to curl yourself up as much as you could within the fading warmth of your coat.

You don’t know how you messed up your assignment. You thought you knew your way back. You thought this would be so easy. Your father had dragged you and your siblings out here plenty of times. Yet you’re lost and you don’t know what to do other than sit here and–

“Y/N!”

Nat.

Triskelion, Washington D.C. – 2012

You miss your little piece of woodland paradise. You had discovered the small cabin during your fourth job. You had been posing as a realtor for your target. The cabin had caught your eye because of its remoteness. It was tucked away along the mountainside and far enough away from all the main roads that all you heard when you stepped outside was birdsong and the wind brushing through the trees. It was the perfect spot to kill your target. The cabin had been left on the market for years and only maintained by a vendor who came out once a season to keep the place from falling apart. You would have no interruptions to deal with. If your target tried to flee, it would be a long run back to a main road. And even if your target got that far, they would need to run from there back to the nearest town. This spot was an open playground. You could kill your target however you wanted. Chase them around if you were feeling energetic. Sever their head with an axe like a lumberjack cutting up wood.

But when you had pulled up to the cabin for the first time, you realized that you couldn’t do any of that here. Sure, you had plenty of space. The cabin was remote. The main road lightly traveled. When you let out a scream to test if anyone would come running, no one did. It wasn’t until you walked through the cabin and into each of the small, cozy rooms that you understood why you couldn’t bring your target here. The cabin felt too much like a home.

The pictures that hung on the walls were snapshots of the owner’s life. Frames full of smiling faces and captured happy moments. You saw the lives of their children begin with innocent, small, round confused faces and stop at handsome young faces decorated in medals and gowns. The furniture bore the nicks and marks of a life used. You could even see the spots of soot left behind in the fireplace where the vendor failed to clean.

You had only ever been in a home like this once before. You had sat down onto the couch in the cabin’s small family room and looked over at the kitchen. You imagined the smell of Nat’s home. You imagined Nat’s mother standing in the kitchen. It was the only thing you could think of. You sat there for a long time. It had been the first time in years that you thought about your friend without all the other stories hanging onto the memory. You thought about Nat. You thought about how happy you had been around her. You tried to imagine her as an adult, but you couldn’t. She was dead, and you were no longer the kid she met back in Ohio.

You ended up killing your target during a private tour of a much larger home far away from the cabin you found. By the time you had bought and moved into the cabin, the new owners of the other much larger home had only finished finding all your target’s missing fingers. The cabin had become your home. Your place to unwind after your jobs. You had filled it with everything you knew that belonged in a home. You loved the feeling of walking through the front door after a long job and just breathing in the smell of your home.

Your bunk is nothing like your cabin. You are buried beneath all the important floors. Your room has no windows. Your room has four white walls, harsh overhead lights, and a white tiled floor. The brightness of the room often gives you a headache which is why your favorite time to be in your bunk is when you are sleeping. All the lights are off and you can listen to the hum of the air conditioner. The best part is that you don’t have to wear that stupid suit when you are in here. You are even allowed to speak, however the only person you ever talk to is Rumlow.

You miss your cabin so much.

The lights in your room come on when the door opens. The twin sized mattress you lay on offers the bare minimum of comfort, yet you don’t bother to sit up. Instead, as you wake and hear familiar footsteps, you drape your arm over your eyes. It successfully blocks out the harsh light, but does nothing to stop the approaching footsteps.

“The bosses up top were impressed with your Bardstown mission,” Rumlow says.

You can’t fight back the small laugh that works its way past your curling lips. With your arm draped over your eyes you can see Sikora’s bent neck clearly. You can still hear each crunch as his body collided down each step. “I killed one person and they weren’t even my target.”

“Which worked out in your favor,” Rumlow says as his approaching footsteps stop. “You played your part. The mission was a success, and no one will look deeper than that.”

You lift your arm away from your eyes and let it flop down to your side. The harsh lights already make your eyes water, but you focus on Rumlow who stands beside your bunk looking down at you. “Do you find your work fulfilling?” Instead of answering you, he turns and steps away from your bunk. You sit up. “Satisfaction is very important to me.”

Rumlow causally makes his way over to a small table. He picks up the half finished bottle of bourbon Nat gave you before leaving Bardstown. You couldn’t drink it then. Removing your helmet around her would go against everything Rumlow has been drilling into your head. But you had ripped your helmet off the moment you returned to your bunk. You had brought the bottle to your lips, and you had drunk so much while thinking of her.

“What are you asking for?” he asks.

“Let me work,” you reply. “Without the suit and the rules. Tell me who the bosses want dead, give me back my gun, and let me kill them.”

Rumlow sets the bottle down. “That’s not how this works.”

You roll your eyes and flop back down onto your bunk.

“I also don’t have your gun,” he adds.

You close your eyes and swallow back the urge to yell. You hate this role so much. If you were impressing these bosses so much, why wouldn’t they let you show them how good you really were? What was the point of all the secrets if most of SHIELD was really HYDRA anyways? Or at least, most of the important people. Or whatever Rumlow had told you during those first few days.

“The bosses were also pleased with how you handled Romanoff,” Rumlow says.

Your eyes open and you stare up at the bland white ceiling. You fight back the smile you know is coming when you think back to the best day of your life. You hope you end up on another mission like that. Just the two of you. The one little new piece of your life that made tolerating this role just a bit more manageable.

“How do you feel?” Rumlow asks.

Like you want to pour over the office directory until you find her office. You’d race up there and sneak in when she isn’t around. You’d sit in the comfortable office chair that you hope she has up there. You’d take your helmet off and wait. And when she finally enters you’d spin around in her chair for a proper dramatic entrance.

You turn your head to look at Rumlow. “Depressed. My favorite gun is lost.”

Rumlow holds your stare. You know what he’s looking for. Perhaps if he could read minds then he would have found it. Instead, you hide all your fantasies and memories behind your little lie. It’s easy. You do the same trick your father always did. String together a story from bits and pieces of truth and mold it into what you need. You know it worked when Rumlow finally breaks your little staring contest. You don’t move when he turns away from you. You don’t want to give away your victory.

“You have training with Rollins in twenty,” Rumlow says before he leaves.

You wait until the door to your room shuts behind him before you get up. You move towards the table and grab the half empty bottle of bourbon. You bring it to your lips and take a sip. The smooth amber liquid washes across your tongue and burns down your throat. You think of when she handed you this bottle. You remember the way her hands briefly brushed across your gloved ones.

You set the bottle down and change while your mind lingers in that memory. Rollins is already waiting for you when you arrive at one of the training rooms a few floors up. Bright sunlight pours through the windows that run along the far side of the training room. You feel uncomfortably hot underneath your suit, and you already miss the cool kiss of the air conditioning that hums in your bunk. When you see Rollins in the training room, your interior visor screen lights up with data you already knew. Except for the healing ribs. That part is new.

Rollins leads you over to a bunch of blue mats. The hand to hand combat drills still feel weird. You know what you are supposed to do. You had learned back when Rumlow first shoved you into this stupid suit that going for kill strikes was not in compliance. You had to work your way up to kill strikes to make everything more believable.

“You’re not an assassin anymore. You’re a SHIELD agent.”

Which wasn’t even the truth. You found that this dance they forced you to do felt awkward. Your movements felt sloppy as you fought not to go for the opening that would put your target down permanently. And when a kill strike was considered acceptable, it always came far too late. It never felt right. These lessons pressed up against the memories of your training back in Ohio, and it often left you feeling more frustrated than anything else.

Your training with Rollins is quickly following the same trend as all the others. Your punches feel sluggish and off. Every time Rollins dodges your hit or counters, you know exactly what you should have done instead. Your frustration grows as you hold back. Your thoughts scream at you in the roar of your father’s voice. You want to give in. Why trade blows when it can easily be only you hitting your target? But you’ve already tried giving in. You had managed to bloody your knuckles a bit before Rumlow had started talking to you about compliance. Everything had stopped despite your urge to keep going. Then you were back at the beginning as if your outburst hadn’t happened.

Rollins dodges one of your punches and delivers a blow to your torso that pushes you back a step. He doesn’t advance. He stands there and waits as you swallow back all the foul words that usually tumble out of your mouth whenever something hurts. It’s hard not to say anything. Especially when he stands there looking bored. But you aren’t eager for them to start fucking with your mind again, so you keep quiet. The sound of your heavy breaths fills up your helmet as you return to your spot in front of Rollins. You duck under his right arm as it swings out. Your fist slams into his healing ribs and the noise he makes is exactly what you needed to hear. His cry is short-lived as he quickly masks it with a grunt. He retreats from you, and you let him. You watch as his breaths become more labored as his hands press against the very spot you hit. You don’t know if you just broke one of his healing ribs. It hadn’t been your intention, but you certainly didn’t pull that punch.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

Her voice steals your attention. She stands by the door dressed in a dark gray sweatshirt and black joggers. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest, and her head tilts slightly as her question is first met with silence. Well, more like your silence and Rollins’ heavy breaths. You could shatter this stretch of quiet in a heartbeat, and you want to. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you bury the urge. Your eyes greedily take in the sight of your friend. You are grateful for your stupid helmet as your eyes run down the length of her legs and stop at the black sneakers that cover her feet.

“I thought you were heading back up to New York with Rogers,” Rollins finally says.

“Eventually,” she replies with a slight shrug and walks further into the training room. “But I have some stuff I need to take care of first.” She uncrosses her arms as she casually approaches the mats. “You should head back before anyone from medical catches you here.”

“I’m a bit busy training the quiet one,” Rollins says.

You should have tried to break his ribs. He’d be too busy dealing with that pain to put a premature end to this wonderful moment.

“I can take over,” she offers.

Your helmet conceals the wide smile that cuts across your face. You don’t know what you have done to deserve so much alone time with your friend, but you will happily do whatever it takes to keep ending up in these wonderful moments. You don’t hear Rollins leave, and when you look over at the man, you can tell that he is unsure if he should leave. The questions he cannot voice are written plainly across his face and your smile falters. Is he…is he not going to leave? Is he really going to ruin this for you? You want to tell him that his concerns are unnecessary. If you were going to spill the beans, you would have done it the moment you and Nat were alone on the quinjet. Or sometime in Bardstown. Not in some fancy building secretly full of HYDRA agents ready to put you down with just a couple of random words.

“Don’t worry,” her voice pulls your attention back to her. Despite the fact that she is addressing Rollins, her focus is on you. You spot the beginnings of a smirk that stirs up something inside you. Something exciting and warm. “I won’t break her.”

You hear Rollins sigh and you feel the buzz of your excitement grow.

“If you do, you’re the one having that conversation with Rumlow,” Rollins replies. “Not me.” Rollins gives you one last warning look before leaving. You watch the man’s retreating form and feel at ease when you see his hand come up to gingerly touch the spot where you hit him.

When you look back over at Nat, you find her pulling her dark gray sweatshirt over her head. The uncomfortable heat that sticks to your skin beneath your suit returns as you feel your hands begin to sweat inside your gloves. You ignore the information that attempts to clog up your visor. Your focus is first on the black sleeveless shirt she wears. The hem of the shirt gets caught briefly on her sweatshirt and lifts to reveal the barest hint of a firm ab. You blink when the shirt falls back down.

Nat sets her sweatshirt aside and steps onto the mats. “Are they always that serious around you?”

You nod, but you are not thinking about Rollins, or Rumlow, or how painfully serious both tend to be at all times. You are too consumed by the realization that you have never seen this much of your friend before. No. That wasn’t it. You can recall several old memories of warm summer days and cool lake water. But you hadn’t felt like this back then. You are staring at her lean biceps and you just want to touch her.

She steps forward. “Your missions with them must be fun.” She shifts into a fighting stance and raises her fists. “Let’s see what you can do.”

You raise your fists and shift your stance. Your smirk at your friend’s earlier sarcasm falls away as your visor’s screen identifies multiple places to strike first. You know what you want to do, but that option isn’t listed anywhere on the screen. If it wasn’t for Nat standing in front of you, you would have quickly returned to your sour, frustrated mood. But instead, you wait for her to strike first. A few moments pass and all you two do is slowly circle the mats. You realize that she’s waiting for you to strike first. A hint of your concealed smile returns. You happily oblige.

Your fist swings towards her, and you feel her arm quickly block your strike. Your focus is on her face, and you can tell that she barely had to think about her reaction. You continue to move in a slow circle and she does the same. You fall back into the training that Rumlow has been drilling into you since they freed you from that chair. You move in and strike. You frown slightly as she blocks or dodges every one of your strikes. It makes you feel like she’s in your mind. That she knew what you planned to do the exact same time you did. You retreat back a step when your fifth punch doesn’t land.

You wait for her to move in with her attack, but it doesn’t come. You know she can’t see your face, but it feels like she can when she offers a small shrug and that small smile creeps back in.

“I’m guessing that was your warm-up?”

You know it’s bait, but you take it anyway. You move in with another series of attacks. Every single one of your punches feels just as sluggish as before. The rhythm feels off. You feel like each attack is wrong. Your strikes aren’t landing and just as you are about to sink into the seething grip of your frustration, you see Nat’s fist coming towards you. Your hand catches her wrist before her fist can make contact with your helmet.

You watch as her brow arches in a silent question. You ignore the data that races across your visor’s screen and focus on the weight of her wrist in your hand. The familiarity of it lures out pieces of warmer memories. The touch of her hand taking yours. How her touch would melt the rigid cold left after early summer mornings with your father. You abandon the awkward dance you have been following. You can hear whispers of your father’s voice in the back of your mind as you take a breath and move.

Her wrist slips free before you can pull her towards you. She goes on the offensive and the attacks you block send you back a few steps. You spy her foot moving to hook behind yours and you maneuver away from that pitfall only to feel her fist connect with your side. The pain is barely there. You two are sparring. But it lights a very familiar fire inside of you.

You press forward with an onslaught of strikes that feel more natural. She continues to block most of them until you manage to slip past her defenses and successfully hook your foot behind hers. As you sweep her foot out from underneath her, her hands come up to latch onto the fabric of your stupid suit. She lets her falling body pull you down, and you both land on your side. Your one hand reaches to dislodge the grip she has on your suit while your other instinctively reaches out towards her neck. You feel her legs wrap around your waist and in one quick movement, you are on your back. Her hand stops yours from reaching her throat and pins it against the mat. She quickly pins your other hand to the mat, and you stare up at her as your heavy breaths fog up your interior visor.

She doesn’t let go of your hands as she looks down at you. You know all she can see is her own reflection staring back at her, and you want her to pull the stupid helmet off your head. You wouldn’t be breaking the rules if she exposed this game. But she doesn’t. Instead, she leans down just an inch or two closer and asks, “How do you feel about opera?”

You shrug.

Her smile returns as she finally lets go of your hands. She gets up and you instantly miss her warm weight on top of you. You sit up as she returns to where she left her sweatshirt. She digs into her sweatshirt’s pocket, pulls something out, and tosses it towards you. You catch it. You can feel another burst of excitement rush through you as you stare at the phone in your hand.

“That’s yours,” Nat says as she pulls her sweatshirt back on. “I thought it might be easier for us to communicate. I already loaded my number into your phone.”

You have her phone number. You don’t move from your spot on the mats as your fingers wrap tenderly around the phone. Direct access to your friend without needing to go through anyone else or jump through any additional hoops. It feels like you’re back in Ohio. All you need to do is cross the street, and she’s there waiting for you.

“I’ll be in contact soon,” she says as she moves towards the door. “Don’t put Rollins back in medical while I’m away.”

You watch her leave. You wait until she’s gone before you lean backwards onto the mat and let out a quiet, short laugh.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #my fanfic #fic: i swear that i don't have a gun

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ghouljams · 6 months

Note

as someone who never wants to have kids, i’ve been having baby fever like crazy lately and it’s ruining my life. can you pls write more about cowboy!ghost and goose and their little one?

I don't want kids either anon! But I love writing baby fics, and I absolutely adore writing Ghost as a dad, so you can have as much baby fic with Frog as you want. Here's Frog a little older, when baby 2 is on the way.

"She's fine, Simon, I did way worse stuff than this at her age." You sigh, watching Simon fix the strap under your two year old's chin. She's sat on the shortest, fattest, slowest mini horse on the farm, and looking as happy as a clam to have so much of her daddy's attention.

"I'm not takin' her to the ER again," he grumbles, crouched next to your daughter.

"She tripped and knocked out a baby tooth, she's fine," you press. Even though you can remember the blind panic in Simon's eyes when she'd ran over to him sobbing, blood dripping out of her mouth. You've never seen that man look closer to death's door than he did sitting in the doctor's office holding her on his lap.

He grabs the reigns on the horse's bridle and stands, leading it forward a few steps. Frog giggles and bounces in the saddle, sun shining through her gap toothed smile. She's got little elbow and knee pads, and is holding on tightly to the saddle horn. Simon leads the horse through the grass, his eyes trained on his daughter the whole time. As soon as she gets closer Frog is waving at you, bright and excited as ever.

You catch her hand and put it back on the saddle, leaning over as best you can. "Keep your eyes forward Froggy, you wanna know where you're goin' right?" You tell her, seeing her nod seriously. It makes your heart warm. You look at Simon as he glances over his shoulder to be sure he isn't going to run into anything. "Where are we goin' daddy?" You ask him with a smile.

"Yeah, where aw we going dad-dy," Frog mimics, your smile grows a little more watching Simon's eyes soften.

"Goin' to drop you with nana so momma and daddy can figure out if you're having a brother or sister," he tells her.

"I wanna sister," she responds, looking at him like he could make the whole world bow to her wishes. He would if he could.

"Here's hoping," Simon mumbles, catching your eye. You laugh, and pat your daughter's head. Sure, here's hoping.

#ghoul speaks #cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley #ghost x oc #oc: goose #oc: mary “frog” price #Ghost only has girls and thats a fact #girl dad only #dilf!ghost #cowboy!ghost #this is just fluff

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petitemistletoe · 11 months

Text

Presents of Mind

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst

Word Count: 5.2K+

A/N: Do wizards have grad school? What comes after Hogwarts? Also idk why but its canon to me that Sirius walks around naked

“Why are you moping?” Harry asked you, poking your arm lightly as he sat down on the couch next to you.

“I’m not moping.” You sighed and set your book down.

“You are. You’ve been moping since you got that letter last night.”

“That was my mom,” you sighed again, turning your body fully so you were facing Harry, “she’s going to the United States for Christmas to visit my brother and his wife and their new baby. It’s just going to be too crazy with the newborn so she wants me to stay with my weird Uncle Radolophus for the holidays. I told her I’d be fine here since I have about a mountain of work to finish for my advisor but she doesn’t want me to be alone.”

“Why don’t you stay with me for Christmas? This will be the first Christmas with my dad since my mom started dating Snape.” Harry had a disgusted look on his face. In Harry’s final year at Hogwarts, his parents announced they were getting divorced and his mother moved out of his house a few months later. Professor Snape had become even more insufferable as he tried to win Lily’s affection and luckily for everyone, Lily had waited until after Harry had been settled at university for his first year of a graduate program to start dating Snape. Harry had practically lost his mind and spent several weeks holed up in your shared apartment and you had to draw him out with chocolate frogs and butterbeer.

“Are you sure? Your dad won’t mind?”

“Nah, he’s nesting big time. He’s cooking a whole giant dinner and it’s going to be just me, Sirius, and Remus.” Harry shrugged.

“It won’t be weird? Me staying in your childhood home?” You asked, thinking about seeing Harry’s childhood bedroom.

“No, no, my dad rented a house in Cornwall. It’s a little tradition that him and his friends have. Come on! It’ll be fun. Cornwall at Christmas with my best friend. Snow on the beach!”

“Alright. I’ll come.” You nodded.

You and Harry had been friends since first year but you had strangely never met and had barely even seen Harry’s father. Harry’s mother had been more involved in all the school things and you supposed that’s why Lily and Severus had grown close again. It wasn’t that James was absent, quite the opposite, he was almost always at Quidditch tournaments and of course took Harry to and from Kings Cross every September but you just never seemed to catch him for more than a few moments since first year. You had heard from Hermione and Ginny, however, that apparently the man was supposed to be drop dead gorgeous.

“I’m leaving after my exam tonight. Meet you back here at seven?” Harry asked, getting up and stuffing his textbook into his bag. As Harry got ready to leave you heard a knock at your door. You got up off the couch to answer it and let Hermione and Ron in. They were bickering, as they usually were, and settled down in yours and Harry’s apartment like it was their own.

“Ron thinks that a vacuum cleaner is an appropriate Christmas gift for his parents.” Hermione sighed, pouring herself a cup of coffee while Ron flopped down on the couch next to you.

“It is! Mum loves to clean and dad’ll love that its a muggle invention.” Ron said, grabbing a throw pillow of the couch and burying his face in it.

“Your mother is a person beyond the face that she’s your mother. Why don’t you think of a gift that fits one of her interests?”

“She hasn’t got any interests!” Ron groaned and removed the pillow slightly to check his watch, “Harry let’s go! We got to be at the lecture hall in twenty minutes!”

“I’m coming! God, you two are so lucky you’re done with exams.” Harry said, shaking his head at you and Hermione.

“Oh Harry! Molly wanted me to ask if you’re coming to spend Christmas with the Weasleys?” Hermione said, finally taking her place next to you on the couch with her warm cup of coffee.

“No. I’m spending it with Dad this year. Plus, Ginny isn’t even going to be there, she’ll still be touring with the Cannons.”

“You don’t want to come to your best friend’s Christmas because your girlfriend won’t be there? We were friends before you even noticed Ginny!” Ron said, mouth open in shock.

“Ron, I’m spending Christmas with my father. You can bear Christmas with your own girlfriend and family.”

“Ugh, my family,” Ron sighed, “do you want to come?” He asked you.

“Spending it with Harry.” You shrugged. Harry rolled his eyes then looked at you on the couch. “We’re heading out! See you when we get back.”

You waved and then turned back to Hermione after you heard the door shut.

“So I’m spending Christmas with Harry.” You said.

“Oh my God. Have you seen Harry’s dad?” She asked excitedly.

“You know I haven’t! When was the last time you saw him?”

“I got tea with Professor Lupin a few weeks ago and Harry’s dad stopped by his flat to drop off his broom. The divorce is serving him well, let me tell you. He looks fantastic.” Hermione grinned.

“I don’t remember the last time I saw you this excited about Ron,” you joked gently.

“Ron and I have been together for almost five years now,” Hermione said with a bored shrug, “He gets to ogle Fleur and I get to ogle Harry’s dad. As long as we come back to each other there’s no problem.”

“Okay,” you laughed, “I get it. But isn’t this a little weird? That’s Harry’s dad. He’s our best friend.”

“Talk to me after you see him.”

You thought about Hermione’s words long after she left your apartment. You had a small bag packed and you were fiddling around waiting for Harry to come back. You practiced transfiguring different objects in your apartment into different animals. You figured you had to stop, however, when you transfigured your fireplace into a dragon and it took a few more seconds than you thought it would to transfigure it back. Your walls were a little soot covered but you were up on a chair trying to get the soot off the ceiling when Harry got back.

“What are you doing?” He asked with a surprised chuckle.

“Uh, had a little scuffle with a dragon.” You said sheepishly.

“Transfiguring the fireplace again?” He gave you a knowing look.

“How was your exam?” You asked, getting off the chair and pushing it back towards the kitchen table.

“It was alright. I’m ready to have a drink and not think about school for the next few weeks.” Harry said, setting his book bag down and grabbing his traveling bag.

“Yeah, real smart of us to go from Hogwarts to uni to grad school without taking a breath.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed your own bag, threading your free hand into Harry’s and waiting for him to apparate.

You stumbled onto a stretch of beach with a large manor that overlooked the water.

“So this is where we’re spending Christmas? I knew you came from money but I had no idea you were this well off. Sure you’re happy with Ginny?” You said, grabbing Harry’s cheek teasingly.

“Shove off,” Harry rolled his eyes and led you to the front door. The manor was cute, comfy, and warm. It was more chic than the Weasley home, with newer furniture and more modern decor, but it was still homey. It smelled like warm butterbeer and cinnamon and you could hear casual conversation in the sitting room. Harry walked into the sitting room and you took in the two men who were sitting in there. One of the men was familiar to you, your old defense against the dark arts professor Remus Lupin and the other man was around the same age, with longer dark hair, a chiseled jawline and cheekbones, and a smattering of tattoos that were visible on his chest through his thin shirt. That couldn’t have been Harry’s father…could it? He was beautiful. But he didn’t really look like Harry and everyone was always telling Harry that he was the spitting image of his father.

“Hello,” you said, greeting the two men.

“Ah! There’s my favorite student.” Remus said, standing up and giving you a quick, respectful hug.

“This is my godfather, Sirius Black.” Harry introduced you to the attractive man, Sirius, who stretched out his hand to you after giving Harry a tight hug.

“Pleasure to meet you.” He winked at you and you fought down a blush.

“So where’s my dad at?” Harry asked, flinging himself down on the couch and holding his arm out so you could sit down next to him. You obliged, snuggling up against Harry’s warm body and looking at the two men on the opposite couch.

“He ran out to buy a few things you for you and your friend. He wanted to make the place feel as inviting as possible and make biscuits for the both of you.” Sirius said with an eyeroll.

“How’s he been. You know, since it all with Mum and Snape?” Harry asked. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look before Remus shrugged his shoulders and exhaled deeply, his fingers rubbing his temples,

“It’s been hard. Have you talked to your mum recently?”

“No. Not really. She knows how I feel about her and Snape. We’ve gotten tea a few times since but she knows that I wanted to spend Christmas with Dad.” Harry said with a head shake. You felt a little awkward, like you were intruding on a private moment between Harry and his uncles, but you didn’t say anything, just stared at your hands.

“I have no idea what she sees in old Snivellus.” Sirius rolled his eyes and earned a slap on the chest from Remus.

“Sirius!”

“Come on, you think so too,” Sirius rolled his eyes at Remus, “You hated him just as much when you were teaching as we did when we were at school.”

“Even so-” Remus started to rebut but you heard the sound of the front door shut and you were sure that James was finally home. He entered the sitting room and you had to remind yourself to breathe. He was just as gorgeous as Hermione and Ginny had described. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes and those glasses. He had an easy smile and was muscular the way that Quidditch players were but he also had a distinguished dusting of silver in his dark hair. He immediately bound to Harry and hugged him tightly, his bicep pressing up against your own on the couch. He then pulled away from Harry and focused his attention on you.

“I’m sorry. Strangely, in the entire time you’ve been close friends with Harry we haven’t really made each other’s acquaintance. I’m James.” James wrapped you in a close hug.

“Hi! It’s great to meet you,” you nodded, not exactly hating the feeling of his body on yours.

“So, I thought we would have a little Shepard’s pie if that’s all right with you, love?” James asked Harry. It was clear that he doted on Harry and you thought it was very precious. You had seen the way that Lily had doted on Harry and while that was all well and good it was different from the way that James was doting and it was refreshing and beautiful. You smiled at the duo as you watched them.

“Yeah, Dad, sounds great.” Harry grinned up at his father. James touched Harry’s cheek affectionately and got up to head back into the kitchen. Remus and Harry got up to help James and you were going to get up too but Sirius sat down on the couch next to you and grinned at you with that crocodile grin he was so good at.

“So, darling, do you have any connection to the honorable House of Black?” Sirius asked you, his fingers tracing a shape on your arm.

“No. I don’t believe I do.” You responded. Sirius grinned even wider.

“Perfect.” He said, showing off his white teeth.

“Get off her, Padfoot!” James called from the kitchen. Sirius waved at James’ general direction and stretched his arms over your shoulders.

“You wouldn’t happen to have daddy issues, do you?”

“Are you asking me that because you want to know if I’m into older men?”

“So are you?” Sirius leaned in closer to you so your nose was brushing against his.

“I had a great relationship with my Dad. Right up until he died.”

“Oh,” Sirius’ smile dropped, “I’m sorry.”

��That’s alright,” you said, waving him off, “That’s all to say that I definitely have some daddy issues.”

“Silver lining, then.” Sirius said, smiling. You wouldn’t have been surprised if in the following moments, Sirius was going to close the distance between you both and kiss you on the Potter’s couch but Remus walked in and threw an oven mitt at Sirius.

“Sirius! You whore!” Remus said, feigning anger and walking over to punch Sirius in the shoulder.

“Ow! Get off me, you’re cramping my style.” Sirius glared at Remus.

“You know what else should cramp your style? The fact that you’ve been dating me since sixth year.” Remus rolled his eyes.

“So I’m not allowed to live?” Sirius shot back. You were laughing as you watched the match unfold and it looked like Remus was gearing up to shoot another smart remark back but Harry walked back in and said,

“Dad says dinner is ready and for you two to kiss and make up.” Harry stretched his hand out to help you off the couch. You all took seats at the table.

“If you wanted to watch us make out, Prongs, you should’ve just said so.” Sirius teased. James stuck his tongue out in return. You took a moment to imagine what it would be like to have that tongue all over your body. You promptly shook your head to rid yourself of the thought.

“So darling,” James turned to look at you and fought the urge to blush, “Harry told me your last name is Siphera. Any relation to Jack Siphera?”

“Uh yes,” you nodded, pushing around a pea on your plate, “he was my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. He was an excellent dueler. A strong member of the Order, you remember him don’t you?” James asked Remus and Sirius.

“Jack was a very kind man,” Remus smiled.

“Siphera…I didn’t know that he had passed. How did he die, if you don’t mind my asking.” Sirius asked. Remus was shaking his head but Sirius didn’t seem to notice.

“He was murdered by Bellatrix when she tried to escape Azkaban.” You responded.

“Bellatrix? My cousin Bellatrix? Bellatrix Lestrange?” Sirius asked, dropping his fork with a clatter.

“Do you know very many other Bellatrixes?” Harry asked. You started laughing and so did Harry until the two of you were both doubled over and gasping for breath.

“Alright,” James said, looking at you two warily, “I bought a bottle of firewhisky for us all, raise your glasses.” James poured everyone a generous helping of firewhisky and then raised another bottle of dark liquor for shots.

“To many holidays together.” Sirius grinned at you as you clinked glasses. You tipped your head back and took the drink, swallowing against the harsh burn in your throat. A small droplet escaped past the side of your glass and made its way down your chin and dropped between your breasts. You became acutely aware of the eyes that were on you. You rubbed your mouth harshly and took a large sip of firewhisky, averting your eyes to look at Harry. His cheeks were a bit pink from the shot and he shot you a large, easy smile.

The drinking continued and the evening ended with you and Harry stumbling into a free bedroom and falling asleep. You and Harry had often slept in the same bed, it started when you were in second year and you had both stayed up late revising for potions.

When you rose the next morning, your mouth was painfully dry and your head was pounding. You nudged Harry lightly and he groaned in response.

“What?”

“I need water.” You croaked.

“So get water.” Harry moaned, putting his head into the pillow and trying to wrap the edges of the pillow around his ears.

“I’m too hungover,” you shook your head.

“Fine, open your mouth I’ll use the aguamenti spell.” Harry shoved himself up on his forearms and grabbed his wand. You opened your mouth and Harry cast the spell. Unfortunately for you both, it was with much more intensity than Harry had intended and you choked on the intense stream of water that had assaulted your throat. You and Harry began to laugh as you were both drenched in water.

“I’ll go down and make some tea,” Harry said, changing his shirt.

“I’ll meet you down there, I’m just going to take a quick shower.” You stripped and wrapped a towel around you as you made your way to the bathroom. You let your body relax under the warm water and you thought about how Hermione and Ginny had been exactly right when it came to James. He was unbelievably gorgeous and you couldn’t stop thinking about when he hugged you, when his fingers bumped against yours as he was pouring drinks, as he brushed against you as he served dinner. It was intoxicating. There was also a detachable shower head that you grabbed and adjusted the water pressure. Once it got to a setting that was to your liking, you angled it so it was spraying a steady stream against your clit. You gasped softly at the pressure and let your head rest against the wall of the shower. You tried to imagine the old things that would get you going: the ripped quidditch players, the rugged wizards from romance novels, the occasional rockstar, but then James crossed your mind. The feeling of body against yours, how you imagined his lips felt against your neck. You imagined his cock entering you, the feeling of your body pressed against the shower wall as he pounded you from behind, his large hands on your waist, his breath hot against your neck. You came harder that you anticipated and you muffled your moans in the crook of your arm. You finished showering and changed into a fresh pair of clothes before descending the stairs. You felt your stomach churn in an unpleasant way when you smelled cooking from the kitchen.

“Good morning,” you said, sitting down at the kitchen table and accepting a cup of tea from Harry who looked just as queasy as you felt. James looked like he had fully rested after a long night of sleep. All around him potatoes were being mashed, green beans were being washed, and a turkey was being stuffed. James himself was charming a rolling pin to roll out dough for scones.

“Good morning! How did you sleep?” James beamed at you.

“How is it that even now in our old age, you still have never been hungover?” Sirius groaned, walking into the kitchen completely stark naked and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Sirius! Cover up. There’s a lady in the house.” James rolled his eyes.

“What you haven’t seen this before?” Sirius thrust his hips forward a little and pointed at his dick. You laughed and shook your head.

“Can’t say it’s my first time. Though it is my first time seeing a hickey there.” You and Harry both tilted your heads to get a better view of the large purplish bruise on the side of Sirius’ cock.

“Moony gets teethy.” Sirius shrugged, leaning against the counter and taking a long sip of his coffee. Remus walked in a few moments later and rolled his eyes at Sirius, throwing a pair of boxers at Sirius’ chest.

“Animals, the lot of you.” James shook his head.

“Dad, did you want to go for a round on the pitch?” Harry asked, accio-ing his broom into his left hand.

“Ah, I wish but I have to finish cooking.” James gestured to all the food around him.

“I can cook! Go, it’s alright.” You smiled. James gave you a grateful smile and nodded,

“I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Take your time,” Remus waved him off, “I’ll stay and help too.”

“Cheers Moony!” James grinned, “Pads you coming?”

“Try and stop me.” Sirius laughed. The three boys scrambled outside and you could hear the chatter between them. You laughed to yourself and began to tend to the turkey.

“It’s sweet isn’t it,” Remus said to you, “the bond between James and his son.”

“It reminds me of me and my father. I never realized how close Harry and his dad are. I always saw his mother at school functions.” You said.

“Lily is an amazing mother, despite some of her most questionable actions as of late.” Remus sighed, “I do hope that her and James reconcile.”

“Oh,” you felt your heart do a flip-flop, “you think they might get back together then?”

“I certainly hope so.” Remus said with a sad smile.

“I don’t.” A new voice said. It was James. He was sweaty and panting as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You don’t? Not even a little bit?” Remus quirked an eyebrow.

“No,” James shrugged, “I think Lily is an amazing person but after so many years together I think we both realized that we can be better friends apart. There’s no harm in that.”

“I suppose only you and her would know.” Remus had a pensive expression on his face but he didn’t say anything further on the subject.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly, as you helped James prepare for the Christmas Eve dinner while Remus, Sirius, and Harry decorated the tree. After dinner you drank eggnog by the fire and listened to James tell stories about Harry when he was young and all the Marauders’ adventures. Sirius and Remus stumbled off to bed, thoroughly drunk with Sirius attempting to suck a dark hickey onto Remus’ neck.

“Silencing spell Pads!” James called.

“Cheers!” Sirius called back, the door slamming shut and the unnatural silence of the spell taking hold.

“It’s a little tradition in our household to open one gift on Christmas Eve.” James said with a smile. He handed a small wrapped gift to you and Harry.

“Oh, James, you didn’t have to get me anything. The invitation was enough!” You felt your face burn but you weren’t sure if it was from the egg nog or the gift.

Harry opened his gift first. It was a necklace with a silvery sword pendant.

“It’s beautiful.” Harry said, watching the way the pendant gleamed under the light of the fire.

“It’s functional as well.” James stood up and extended a hand to Harry as well. “Hold the necklace by the pendant and flick your wrist.”

Harry followed his father’s instructions and after the flick of his wrist the pendant expanded to a full sized sword.

“Whoa! Is that the sword of Gryffindor?” You asked, scrambling up and examining the sword up close.

“Yes it is. It’s been in the Potter family for generations. Flick your wrist again.” James instructed. Harry did so and the sword returned back to it’s pendant size. Harry put the sword around his neck and gave his father a tight hug.

“Open mine!” You urged Harry, handing Harry your gift as well. Harry opened it and laughed.

“Oh my God! This is great!” Harry grinned, pulling out a jumper that Mrs. Weasley had helped you knit. It was a dark red with a little design of a figure that looked like Harry whizzing by on his broom after a golden snitch.

“Thanks! It took a lot of yelling from Mrs. Weasley and some tears but it’s done!” You beamed.

“This is truly amazing. You’re very talented.” James was studying the jumper in adoration.

“I’m so glad you think so because after I did it once I was able to replicate it and make some tweaks so happy Christmas James!” You handed James an identically wrapped package. Inside was a jumper but the design was a man who looked like James that disappeared and a stag stood in his place. You had remembered the stories Harry had told you of his father’s animagi status and thought it would be sweet. James wrapped you in a tight hug and grinned at you,

“Thank you so so much.”

Harry gave James his gift and then handed you his gift to you. It was a gorgeous porcelain tea set that was enchanted so the bottom of each tea cup had a grim at the bottom, a silly callback to yours and Harry’s shared time in Divination. James had run out for a moment and then returned with a small box for you. It was a beautiful, dainty bracelet. James helped you put it on. You were absolutely speechless.

“Thank you so much, James. It’s absolutely lovely.” You excused yourself to the bathroom where you investigated it more. It looked like real gold. Why would James give you such an expensive and intimate gift. You saw there was a little slip of paper underneath the bracelet. You pulled it out and read:

To my one true love, my Lily

That made more sense. James had given you a gift that he had intended initially for Lily. You would give it back to him after Harry went to bed. You were about to round the corner to reenter the main room when you overheard a conversation between Harry and James.

“-Siphera is a lovely girl. Are you and her…together?” James asked.

“No, no,” Harry responded, “She’s my best friend in the entire world. I’m glad you got to meet her.”

“I am too.”

You took that as your cue to re-enter the room and you nestled back into your spot and wrapped your hands around your cup of eggnog.

“Alright, I’m going to ring Ginny before bed. G’night.” Harry gave you another hug before going to bed.

“So James, while I really appreciate the bracelet I don’t think I can keep it.” You said, handing James to bracelet back.

“Oh, you don’t like it?” James gave you a look of alarm.

“No, it’s not that. I just saw this note and…” You handed James the note.

“I, um, I am so sorry. I had gotten you a box of chocolates for Christmas but then I saw your gift and I panicked. I had bought that bracelet for Lily months and months ago and I needed to give you something better. You’ve been such a light in Harry’s life and honestly in these few short days I’ve loved having you here. I want you to keep the bracelet.” James looked at you with large imploring eyes and extended the bracelet back to you.

“Oh, thank you so much. You have to know that Harry is my best friend and he’s been amazing. Especially after everything with my father. And I can see where he gets his giving spirit. Thank you again for having me for Christmas this year.” You became aware of how close you and James were on the couch. His hand was on your knee and his breath was warm against your face. He leaned in and kissed you, his hand on the back of your neck. His lips were soft and he was gentle, warm. You pulled away and looked down at the ground.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I’ve just…been lonely. But that isn’t an excuse.” James shook his head.

“I think I’m going to go to bed. Good night.” You scrambled from the room. You reentered your room and tried to think about what had just happened. And then you thought fuck it, you deserved a little guilty pleasure now and again. And before you knew it you were knocking on James’ door, emboldened by the eggnog.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m so so sorry-” James started but you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He pulled you into the room and shut the door, pushing you up against the door and pulling your jumper over your head. He thread a hand in your hair and tilted your face up a little as he angled his tongue. His hand went down to the waistband of your jeans and fiddled with the button for a moment before sliding his hand down into your panties.

“So wet for me,” he whispered into your mouth. You were going to give back a smart remark but James pushed two of his nimble fingers into your pussy. You gasped and gripped James shoulder harshly. His thumb found its way to your clit and he started on circular motions as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His lips made their way to your neck and he was sucking hickeys on your neck that you would curse in the morning but right now all you cared about was James keeping his pace as you approached your orgasm. It hit you like a tidal wave and you were moaning into James’ mouth and begging him for something you weren’t totally sure of.

He moved you to the large wicker bed that sat in the center of the room. You helped him out of his shirt and unbuckled his pants. You kissed down his chest, along his happy trail, and down to his cock. You took him in your mouth and he moaned lowly,

“Oh fuck.” He moaned, holding your hair back as you tried to take him as deep as possible. You grabbed his balls lightly and released a strangled,

“Okay! Okay, I don’t want to cum just yet.” He pulled you off of him and flipped you over so you were beneath him. He pushed himself inside you and you both moaned.

“You’re so big,” you moaned.

“You’re so tight,” he moaned back. He was fucking you at a relentless, unforgiving pace. One of his hands was gripping the headboard tightly and the other was alternating between your nipple and your clit. You were approaching your second orgasm of the night and with the way it was building you knew it was going to hit you even harder than the first one. James pulled out completely and slammed back into you and that was it. You orgasm hit you hard and your orgasm triggered James’. He came inside you, babbling thank yous and oh my gods. He pulled out of you and you both laid side by side, breathing heavily and fanning yourselves.

“We can’t ever tell Harry.” You said, the icy shock of sobriety making you realize the gravity of what you had done. You had slept with your best friend’s dad. That would kill him. James was going to respond when an owl started pecking at the window. James opened the window and untied the piece of parchment wrapped around the owl’s foot. You were able to read it over your shoulder.

James,

I made a huge mistake. Ring me in the morning?

Happy Christmas

Lily

#james potter #James potter x reader #James potter smut #bfd!James potter #harry potter #Aaron Taylor johnson #Aaron Taylor johnson smut #marauders #atyd marauders #sirius black #remus lupin

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spidercookie18 · 6 months

Text

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒖𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝑯𝒊𝒅𝒆

The Lost Boys 1987 AU set in modern time. None of the boys died, and all the Emersons/Star/Laddie/Frog brothers are vampires. This is explained later…

Tags: General violence, swearing, drinking, territorial marking, brown skinned reader, use of y/n, afab, use of she/her Word Count: 5.6k ish Next chapter here:

“No one should suffer what I suffered. I still dread those scenes when man killed man. I lost my parents, most of my family, by running away.” — Milkha Singh

Chapter One:

There was a familiar smell hanging off the air as the boys walked through the boardwalk. David had seemed to be the only one to notice it, as none of the other young vampire men pretended to know what he was talking about when he’d asked. He’d been smelling this particular scent in the shops, on the beach and around the streets these past few days, so he asked Max if he recognized what it was.

“Trouble,” is all his sire responded with.

David knew that was the one warning he’d get on the subject, but he was going crazy trying to figure out where it was coming from. The boys couldn’t smell the scent, but they noticed how irritable he was becoming; so, they rode down into town to harass the locals and cheer up their leader. The rowdy bunch parked their bikes down the boardwalk and were heading up towards the sound of music. David walked with his hands deep in his coat pockets, grinning at his brothers as they bounced around and punched each other’s shoulders. Maybe his attitude would change with a nice night out, his mind starting to leave his obsession.

“Hey watch it!” A man bumped hard into David.

He stared at the human from under his brows, his nostrils flaring in anger, “you bumped into me,” David spat at him.

The human puffed out his chest and the men behind him crowded around the lost boys. They towered over the vampires as they stood, and the smiles faded from the boys’ faces. The man walked up to David, and poked a finger at his chest as he spoke, “oh yeah? What are you going to do about it? Blondie.” The man chuckled and turned to his friends who also laughed.

Tonight, was not the night for mercy, David thought.

David grinned, his toothy smile a foreshadow the men would not understand until later. The young vampire turned as to walk away, then quickly swung back around and punched the man; the connect made the man’s teeth clack, and he stumbled back to the ground. The group the man was with jumped in to hassle the vampires as they all started shoving and yelling at each other, but the boys kept them off of David as he wailed on the human.

David pulled an arm back to begin the assault on the man who’d been so unlucky to get on his bad side that night. He landed blow after blow on his jaw and eye socket till the man was unconscious. He’d all but slumped onto the ground, but David held him by the collar of his shirt; bent over him and kept wailing on his victim. The grunts that came from David were animalistic, and the CLACK of his fist connecting to the skull of the man were loud and frightening. The human men slowly stepped away as David harshly let go of their friend’s collar and threw him to the planks with a THUNK.

He stood up, took a deep breath, and ran his hands through his hair, inadvertently smearing blood in the tips of his mullet. The vampires stood over the bloody victim and the human men moved to quickly gather their friend and run away.

“Feel better?” Dwayne heartily laughed as he patted David on the back.

David licked the back of his leather gloves to taste the blood he was sure they would be having again later. He turned to his boys to give them a devilish grin, “that was fun.”

They chuckled. People continued to walk past them as the boys started in the direction the group of men had run off in. From the side of his eye David noticed a shadow walk swiftly passed him.

That scent.

He turned to find the figure in the crowd and saw a head bob through the sea of people as it walked off. He turned to follow the scent without giving warning to the boys, who’d stayed staring at their ‘to be’ victims. David swiftly moved through the crowd of people, trying to catch up with the source of his fixation; but the figure moved much faster than he had anticipated.

He had been held up by a group of tourists that were walking in a tight line. He pushed through them and their protests as he hustled towards the figure. “Fuck, where did it go?” He looked around and noticed how the crowd looked to thin out ahead of him, he saw the figure again. He sprinted to catch up with the shadow he was pursuing.

It's a chick? David was confused by what he saw; a short, simple human. He felt a pull that led him closer to his fixation.

MINE. The word permeated his thoughts the second he caught sight of what he was chasing.

She's MINE, he felt his boots hitting the ground below him, he was running now.

He was closing the space, but it was still not enough to catch his obsession. She’s so small how can I not reach her?

He watched the curly hair bounce as you walked briskly through the street now. He made a mental image of what you looked like on the off chance he lost sight of you. You were short, even with heels, dark brown hair, and honey skin. It was a simple outfit, white lacey top with jeans. You held a small tote off your shoulder, and you wore cowboy boots. He chuckled; they reminded him of his boots. You half turned your head to see behind you.

Crap. He ducked behind a group of people to hide. Did she notice me? His heart was racing, he clutched at his chest as he peeked out behind the group. No, there’s no way she did. He stepped out to notice you further than ever. “Oh, what the shit?” He sprinted to catch up, his coats flapping behind him; he was almost within arm’s length of you, but you had not made it easy. He reached an arm out to grab you…

“Hey there he is!” The boys came up behind him and he turned before he could touch you.

He quickly whipped his head back to watch you turn a corner and out of sight. He groaned loudly; he couldn’t believe how easily you lost him.

“What happened man? Why’d you take off like that?” Paul panted out.

“The girl,” David was bent over, his hands on his knees, he pointed to where he had seen you disappear, “she’s who I’ve been smelling all week.” He couldn’t believe he was actually panting, if he wasn’t so upset, he would have laughed in excitement at his new challenge.

The boys looked at each other in confusion, “um, there’s no one there-”,

“Okay, well I know that Marko, she ju- …she just took off.” David tried to explain.

“Sure man, your imaginary scent comes with an imaginary girl,” Paul laughed, and patted David on the back. David shot him a look of annoyance, and Paul took his hand off.

“Hey, are we still going after those guys?” Dwayne asked.

“Yeah man, sure.” David was angry again.

How could I let her get away.

He was going to hit something again soon.

The boys turned back towards where they had seen the group of men take off and found a feast before them. They’d headed off the group at the parking lot on the far side to wait, like flies to a web. Once the group had dragged their friend into the back of their truck, the boys struck, quickly, and quietly. They snatched them all into the sky, fed, and rummaged through their pockets to leave their bodies in the trash somewhere. The mangled corpses a clear indication of the rage that still coursed through David’s veins.

The boys had found a decent amount of money in the pockets of the men they threw in the dumpsters. “Well, we’re set for a night of fun!” Marko held the wad of money up in triumph. The boys cleaned up and walked back down to the other end of the boardwalk where they had parked their bikes, next to a bar they knew wouldn’t kick them out.

When they got in, Marko and Dwayne headed to the back of a bar where the pool tables were. They knocked the quarters off the edge of one of the pool tables indicating that they would in fact be next to play. The men standing around recognized the crew; they knew better than to retaliate, and swiftly picked up their things and left the bar. “Huh, looks like it’s open now,” Dwayne laughed. Paul and David walked over to the bar and ordered beers for the group.

David wanted something stronger first and ordered two doubles, “whatever’s cheap and strong”, he told the bartender. He waited for his order and leaned against the counter. The lights were dimmed, and the music was loud, almost painfully loud. He looked around the bar and noticed all the drunk bodies moving out of sync with the music.

Well, there’s take out if anyone is still hungry, he thought and chuckled to himself. The bartender dropped off the shots and the beer and David placed the money on the counter. He left a modest tip, fucking animals, he thought as he saw the other patrons stiff the bartender; he picked up the shot glasses and knocked back his head. Nice n’ hot. The clear liquid burning his throat as it went down. David grabbed the beer and leaned back against the counter, his senses were beginning to dull, and the rage in him subsided. He looked around the bar and noticed a few people walk in.

There she is.

He couldn’t see your face behind your hair, but that didn’t matter; he knew what you looked like, he knew your scent.

You walked up to a space beside him, and he casually turned his head to look at you. You ordered a drink and leaned forwards against the counter. You pulled your bag out in front of you to grab your money, but David interjected, “I got it,” he handed the bartender some money, “whatever she wants,” he said to them casually. You tucked your hair behind your ear and looked up at David, “oh, thank you.” You smiled up at him, and he felt his undead heart skip a beat. If he wasn’t so used to playing cool, he might have dropped the charade, but he just turned to lean against the counter the way you were. He looked over you, and your features.

“I’m David,” he stuck his hand out for you.

You grabbed the drink from the bartender, then moved to offer your hand to him. “I’m Y/N,” you smiled sweetly. He pulled your hand to his face and placed a kiss on it, his icy blue eyes moving from your gaze to his hold on you. Inhaling your smell.

Honey, roses, clove? No, it’s more complex than that. He held the kiss longer, it’s the scent of her skin, but there’s something…else.

Noticing your heartbeat quicken he released your hand from his.

“What a gentleman,” you chuckled nervously, your guard immediately going up.

“Sorry,” he tried to soothe your nerves, “are you here with someone?”

You took a sip from your drink and shook your head no. “Are you?” You didn’t smell like a normal human, but not entirely like something else.

“Yeah,” he gestured over his shoulder to the young vamps in the corner, “me and my boys are having a night on the town,” his voice was warm and inviting. You leaned back to see who he was talking about. You noticed three loudly dressed young men playing pool, they were eyeing anyone who got too close to their game. They seemed territorial, to say the least. “Would you like to join us?” David smiled, really laying on the charm.

“Sounds fun,” you batted your eyes and followed David to the back of the bar where his companions were.

“Hey boys,” they all looked up at him, “this is Y/N,” he gestured to you. They looked from him to you, and you watched their nostrils flare; they were smelling you, and not being subtle about it. David gave them a stern look, “she’ll be joining us tonight.” You held your drink against your body and gave them a quick wave. The boys changed their attitudes and greeted you kindly.

“Can I play winner?” You nod towards the table.

“Sure,” Marko lined up his shot, “that’ll be me.” He looked at Dwayne, “corner pocket,” he said arrogantly. The pool balls clack and he sunk the eight-ball, corner pocket like he said.

Dwayne groaned and handed the cue to you. He leaned down to you, trying to sneakily take a whiff, “he’s a cheater, that one,” he eyed Marko.

“No, I’m just better than you,” Marko started racking the balls back up. You slung the strap of your bag off around your head and sat it down gently on the table nearest, there’s a soft clunk when you set it down that the boys pay no mind to. “You think you can beat me princess?” Marko taunts.

“Oh, I barely remember the rules, I just thought it’d be fun,” you smile innocently. Paul leaned down to hand you the chalk and you could hear him sniff you as well. You forced yourself not to roll your eyes at how obvious they were being, and smile as you took the blue cube from him. You twisted a few turns on the tip of the cue with the chalk, then lined up your shot to break.

CLACK and the balls sailed across the table, THUNK one of the balls sunk. You smiled up at Marko, who was unimpressed, and you moved to line up your next shot. You stepped in front of David and looked back to make sure you wouldn’t hit him; he nodded at you, and you could feel him staring at your ass when you turned back around. CLACK, THUNK. Marko scoffed and you moved past him to line up your next shot. You could feel him breathing in your scent as you moved around him. CLACK, CLACK, THUNK, THUNK. You smiled up at him; he was visibly upset by now; he crossed his arms and looked over at David who was more than amused by the sight before him.

The boys looked at each other, they could smell your perfume, the scent of your shampoo and even the petroleum in your makeup, but they couldn’t smell you. The scent of your skin escaped them, and they looked back at David, waiting for his move. You sauntered in front of him again, and lined up your shot. CLACK, THUNK. You turned back to smile coyly at him, your eyes lidded, and you raised an eyebrow at him, amused in your own antics of teasing the young men.

“Oh, come on!” Marko bitched, “am I going to get a turn?”

You smiled up at him, “in a sec.” You let your tongue slide ever so slightly out of your lips in a focused look. CLACK, THUNK.

“Mother fu-” Marko scrunched up his face.

The others were laughing at him now. You moved back in front of Marko and lined up your shot, you could hear him growling as you slid the cue back and forth between your knuckles. “Oops,” you missed on ‘accident’ and the cue slid up. You stepped out of his way and let him take his shot.

“Finally, fuck,” he lined up, “I thought this would be a one-sided game.” He shoots and skims the edge of a ball. “FUCK,” he screamed. You could hear Dwayne and Paul snickering beside David.

The cue ball landed between yours and Marko’s ball, “let’s see ya hit that,” David called out to you, raising his eyebrow to taunt you.

You sat sidesaddle on the edge of the table and placed your fingertips on the felt. Leaning over the table, David noticed a pendant fall from your shirt. It was a small, thin vial, it looked almost black, or maybe a dark purple. You angled the cue high over your head, CLACK, the cue sailed over Marko's ball and hit yours. The ball slowly rolled over to a pocket and it looked like it would slow to a stop. You eyed the ball and waited for it to fall, THUNK. The boys were in an uproar; Marko was seething now.

He gripped the cue in his hand, and you could hear the wood start to crack over the music. I’m pushing my luck, you thought, the image of a deer in headlights popped into your head. You tucked the necklace back in your shirt safely where it should be, hopped off the table and moved in front of David and the other boys. You leaned down and arched your back as you slide the cue between your knuckles, trying to tease them; you heard David growl softly, the sound made you chuckle. “Corner pocket,” CLACK, the eight-ball sailed across the table, bounced off the edge and turned towards the corner pocket. From the edge of your eyes, you could see Marko gritting his teeth and staring intently at the ball. THUNK.

CRACK, Marko broke the cue over his knee. He was screaming obscenities in a language that wasn’t English, and Paul moved to his side to calm him down. You watched as the tantrum unfolded and David turned you around, to take your attention away from the melt down the short, curly haired biker was having.

“You’re pretty good,” he put his arm around your shoulder.

“Yeah, where’d you learn to do that, short stuff?” Dwayne was laughing at how pissed off Marko was getting.

“Oh, I’ve had a lot of time to practice,” you chuckled.

Marko stomped up to you, “that’s bullshit, you’re gonna play me again!” He shoved your shoulder.

“Woah, woah, calm down Marko,” David stepped in front of you, the silver in his tongue trying to soothe his brother.

David and Marko were eyeing each other, and Dwayne and Paul stood uneasily near them, waiting for one of them to make a move. The tension was palpable, and the hair on the back of your neck started to stand on end. You went to your bag and pulled out a small wad of cash, “I was actually about to buy y’all a round if that’s ok.” David was holding Marko by the scruff of his jacket when the boys looked back over at you, “if y’all want that?” You held it out to hand to Marko, and David let him go. The short blond walked over to grab the cash from you, but before he could take it you flicked your wrist to hold the money away from him, “are we square?” He eyed you, before looking over at David who raised an eyebrow, waiting for Marko’s response.

Marko turned back to you and smiled an unfriendly sneer, “yeah,” he took the money from you, “we’re square.” He turned to walk to the bar, with Paul, and Dwayne in tow.

As they walk past you and David, you heard Paul say something to Marko, “if you’re so mad about it, you should have cheated.”

“I was fucking trying to- Stupido figlio di puttana, pensi che non ci abbia provato?” Marko retorted.

David looked over at you and laughed from the pit of his stomach, it was almost a bellow. “You didn’t have to do that,” he put his arm around you.

You were sure if you didn’t then you’d have to deal with the consequences of a pissy biker. “It’s just a courtesy drink,” you smiled back at him, and the boys brought back a tray of shots.

They all brought the glass to their lips, and you followed suit. The boys took a few more shots as you nursed your drink. David took your hand and led you to the dance floor, he was surprisingly better than you’d have thought, but maybe that had more to do with how inebriated everyone around you was. You could smell the cigarette ash on his coat, and the leather and motor oil as well. The light from the bar contorted his face and casted shadows about his features. He had a dark look in his eyes that made your stomach hurt. The longer you looked at him, the less you noticed him moving.

Was he actually dancing? Was it a trick of the light? You turned so you didn’t have to see how frightening he looked at that moment.

You could feel his hands slide down your waist, and he pulled you close as he swayed against you. You felt yourself begin to sweat, all the bodies, and the man clad in wool and leather pressed against your back, was all too much. David could smell your scent now, over the fixation he could not place, much stronger now than what it had been. Whatever the smell was that he couldn’t recognize was almost completely faded against the fragrance of your skin. He pulled you closer to him and you prayed that was his wallet pressing into your ass.

Mine, mine, mine.

The word seeped through his thoughts again. She’s mine. He let the word run wildly through his mind as he listened to the blood flow through your veins.

His face was resting on your shoulder, his nose buried in your hair, and you could feel him inhaling you now. You turned to face him, he was certainly attractive, but that was no excuse for a stranger to be smelling you like that. You put your hands on his shoulders and tried to push away, his grip tightened, and he leaned down to press his mouth in the crook of your neck. You tried to think of a way out of his grasp, as he kissed and nuzzled against your exposed skin. You turned your gaze to the clock on the wall.

“Oh, fuck,” you sighed against David’s ear.

He hummed and didn’t move from his position.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” you pulled back from his embrace, and he reached for you as you turned to go.

“Where are you going?” You could have sworn his eyes were blue a second ago.

“It’s late,” you tried to back away from him. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

No way you were stupid enough to spend the night with a…whatever he was. Not after him and his buddies were smelling you like damn ‘jeepers creepers’.

At least not until you knew if it was safe or not to be around him.

He held onto your arm, “it’s not even closing time,” he smiled, trying to charm you into staying with him. You pulled from his grasp, and he stopped smiling. He eyed you, waiting for your next move. You clutched your bag against your body, and he realized that his persuasion, for whatever reason, didn’t work on you. He internally raged against that fact, but quickly softened his gaze and began to apologize. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t cool…” he looked over your nervous figure, “can I at least walk you home?”

You tried to play it off, “that’s alright, I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Max’s words echoed in David’s head.

Trouble.

What could he have meant? You’re so helpless, just a fragile little human.

“Nonsense, I insist.” You weren’t getting rid of him that easily, not after he had worked so hard to catch you.

He turned to let the boys know he would be walking you home, and that he would catch up with them soon. He held the door for you out of the bar and you both started down the boardwalk. He stopped by the bikes to give you a ride to your rental.

“Oh, I should have known those were yours,” you bounced on your toes, waiting for him to get back off the bike.

He chuckled, “am I that cool?” He smiled back at you, waiting for you to get on.

“You’re drunk.”

“Not very.”

You stared quietly at him with an impatient look on your face.

“You’re really not gonna let me give you a ride home?”

“I’d rather walk,” you smiled briskly and turned on your heels to begin to wander away from David.

“Oh, shit” he moved to get off the bike, catching his boot on the seat, and hobbled to get unstuck. “Hey, wait!” He sprinted to catch up to you, and you were already at the corner. How the fuck does she do that, he thought.

You turned and chuckle at him, “I don’t live too far.” You pointed off in the distance and he walked beside you. He began to pat at his coat pockets and pulled out a lighter and a cigarette. He lit one and stuck his hands back in his coat.

You tried to make small talk to make the walk go by quicker, but David was not one for polite conversation. “How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, a long time.”

“How long have you known your friends?”

“Oh, a long time.”

“How old are you?”

“Not very.”

“Uh-huh,” you stared at him from the corner of your eye, “you’re a real open book ain’t cha?”

He scoffed, “me? Oh yeah.” He pulled the cigarette from his lips and ashed it over the curb. He put it back in his mouth and took a long drag and blew smoke up into the night air.

You chuckled and looked up at him, “you know there’s blood in your hair, right?”

He shot a hand up to his hair to wipe it off, “oh, don’t worry about that…It’s not mine.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

He turned his head to look at you, the moonlight shining down on your body. His whole unlife, never before had he seen moonlight look so enticing. You caught him staring and he smiled a toothy grin. “So,” he starts, “what about you? Are you an open book?”

You chuckled, “why don’t you find out?”

“Where are you from?” David asked.

“South.”

“Of?”

“Here.”

“Los Angeles?”

“Further.”

“San Diego?”

You giggled, “no, the South.”

“Ah,” David responded, it’d been a long while since he had been down there, he wasn’t exactly ‘up to date’. He stared over at you again.

“What, David?” you looked up at him.

“So, like cowboys South, or hill people South?”

You busted out laughing.

He couldn’t help but smile watching you laugh; he loved the way you looked at this moment. You stopped in your tracks, doubled over, “oh man, that was the hardest I’ve laughed in a long, long time.” He stopped and stared at you, impatiently waiting for an answer, he bent down to be face to face with you and cocked an eyebrow. “Cowboy South,” you wiped a tear from your eye.

He let you finish collecting yourself and followed next to you when you started walking again. “So, what are you doing in Santa Carla?” He could hear your heartbeat pick up, then quickly slow again.

You tucked a curl behind your ear, “oh, I’m just traveling.”

Is she lying? Or is that not the whole truth?

David tried to look into your mind to see what you were hiding, but it was like there was a wall blocking him from you. He knew his brothers could close him off, and Max and Lucy could as well, but he had never had a human lock him out before. This bothered him.

David already knew his persuasion didn’t work on you, so he’d have to press you another way. “How long have you been traveling,” your heartbeat quickened, then slowed once more.

“Oh, a long time.” You both had your reasons for secrecy, and you would give him the same courtesy he showed you.

He snorted though his nose, annoyed, but he would get his way sooner or later. David flicked the dead butt from his mouth and kept himself from trying to pry. You turned the corner and walked up to a small house with a truck parked in the driveway. “Wow, ain’t seen one of those in a while,” David ran a hand across the tailgate of the old truck.

“Yeah, she’s my baby,” you pulled your keys out of your bag and stopped at the top of your porch. You turned to look down at David, he stood with his hands behind his back, bouncing on the balls of his feet; he was clearly waiting to be let in. “Thank you again,” you said. David smiled up at you from the bottom of the stairs and began to walk up them. “Goodnight,” you turned to put the keys in the lock.

The blond stood, stunned that you had no intention of letting him in. “Wait,” he called to you, as you stepped through the threshold. He gestured to the doorway, “Can I co-?”

“Oh, no David, we just met.” You smiled innocently, “and I’m not that easy.”

He stood there, dumbfounded, he scoffed. “Seriously?” He stepped up to the doorframe, and you closed the screen door.

“Goodnight David,” you smiled one last time and closed the front door on him.

“No kiss?”

He stood in front of the closed door, gripping the frame; it cracked under his hands. David growled; he was not used to rejection; nor would he accept it. He walked around to the edge of your house where he found a window to your bedroom. He found it slightly ajar and reached a hand under. He was burned.

Ah what the shit!

He pressed his face against the window and peered inside, he saw a small water bubbling fountain by the edge of the windowsill next to your bed.

Who the fuck does that!

Note: Vampires cannot cross running water; this is mentioned in the novel but not in the movie.

He hissed at the small froggy fountain that was spitting water. He took off his glove and started licking at his hand when he noticed you walk into your room. He crouched so you wouldn’t notice him standing creepily at your window. You took off your boots and dropped your bag gently on a hook by the door. He snorted at how cutely you looked without your heels, tiny thing. You looked at yourself in the mirror and rubbed your neck. You stayed looking at where your neck met your shoulder and rubbed it a bit more. You sighed, threw back your head, then began to pull your shirt off, pulled it over your head and your hair fell over your undershirt and your bra.

Yeaaah, undress for me sweet thing, David thought as he hung off the windowsill. You unhooked your bra from under your camisole, your peaks showing through the thin fabric. David was gripping the windowsill hard now, and you moved your hands down to slip off your pants. David subconsciously growled, you looked to the window. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He slunk back against the wall. You peered out the window, like you knew someone was watching you.

Fuck me, David thought as he tried to stay perfectly still and out of sight. He didn’t dare make any more noise, you seemed to notice him every time he did anything that night. You shut the window, locked it, closed the blinds, and shut the curtains. Mother fucker! Poor creepy David was annoyed that you had ended his show early. He stood up, frustrated, he knew he wouldn’t have a chance at seeing any more of you that night. Drunkenly he stared at the blinds, “stupid girl.”

He scrunched up his face at your window, he heard you moving around inside, he was pissed that he couldn’t watch. He was pissed he was resorting to watching you through the window, like some loser human stalker. He should be inside while you willingly undress yourself for him.

You were his now anyways.

He gritted his teeth, he thought for a second and figured, ‘well, while I’m here’. He undid his belt and shoved his jeans down enough to free his cock, he was going to mark you, whether or not you’d let him. He pissed on the ground below your window and chuckled to himself.

“Let’s see if she notices this.” He chuckled and gave himself a quick shake. He put his member back in his pants, and pulled out his phone to let the boys know he was headed back to the bar. David gave one more look at the window as he put his glove back on and took off in the night.

The next morning, you definitely noticed. You stared at the spot on the ground outside your bedroom window. You knew the frame around your front door was cracked, and now your grass was trampled. Two very clear big boot prints, and what looked like a summersault, or like he was rolling around on the ground. You stood with your mug in your hand, still in your slippers and pajamas.

You sniffed at the air, “oh, that fucker!” You begrudgingly went back inside to fetch something to get the piss off your lawn. You returned with baking soda and vinegar, and sprinkled and poured the mixture on the dead spot till you were satisfied. You went back inside to fetch a pitcher of boiling water and angrily stared at the spot, “goddamned vampire asshole pissing on my fucking lawn!”

You were going to let David have it the next time you saw him.

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i520u · 7 months

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11:11 𓂅𓏲•₊˚

FOUR. 09:42

WARNINGS. gyuvin almost died but he didn’t he’s silly

First impressions have always been something you were passionate about. As in, you would definitely die on the concrete floor like a dried out frog, mouth foaming with bubbles if you were to mess your first impression up. First impressions are important to you, you already can’t stand with the thought of being perceived, but you can’t stop it from happening. So, the next best thing is to make sure the image they perceive is one that is… impressionable, at least.

That was, until today.

It was mostly your fault, but you needed to be petty and blame it on someone — and that someone happens to be your brother, Hanbin. Of course, Hanbin had woken you up extra early like you asked him to, but Hanbin’s also far too nice to pull something crazy like shut the ceiling fan off, or pull your leg to wake you up. You kinda wished he did, though — because you wouldn’t have been in this situation you were currently in, if he did. Again, not exactly Hanbin’s fault, but you needed somebody to blame.

You were about thirty minutes late to school. It definitely could’ve been worse, but this was your first impression, we’re talking about. It was like the universe was out to get you this morning. You overslept, your uniform hadn’t been ironed, your tie was missing. Of course, you’re aware that these are all the consequences of your own actions, but you really didn’t feel like beating yourself up any more than Gyuvin’s about to do.

As you reached the school compound, you could see a tall figure standing by the school gates. Despite his annoyed face, you couldn’t help but see how handsome he was. And — did he dye his hair? You had to mentally yell at yourself to stay normal and focused on the task at hand; you are Gyuvin’s tour guide, and that’s it. You can not afford to let your weird persona on the internet out.

“Hi.” You greeted, trying to ignore the elephant in the room. Gyuvin tapped his elbow with finger as he waited for you to finally reach him, he raised an eyebrow, and was about to say something snarky for sure. “Did you dye your hair? It looks good.” You say before he could utter anything, in an attempt to ease the tension.

“You’re late.” Gyuvin responded, and that practically confirmed your suspicions that he was furious. In fact, the lack of enthusiasm to his voice made it worse. “I’m sorry. It was my brother’s fault, I promise.” You raised your hand like you were admitting defeat. Gyuvin rolled his eyes, “I don’t care whose fault it was. You’re late and unreliable on your first day on the job.” He said with a smug grin on his face.

You frowned slightly as you began to walk towards the school building, “you don’t have to be so mean,” you murmured. A part of you wondered if Gyuvin was generally always this mean — or if something traumatic happened to him to be closed off forever like an anime backstory — probably the former, maybe he’s just an asshole. You shrugged. You’re used to dealing with assholes. Exhibit A, Sungchan, exhibit B, his best friend Jeonghyeon.

“So the first thing you’ll see when you enter the school is the hallways.” You explained, the hallway was empty since the first period had already commenced. Gyuvin didn’t talk much as you showed him around the first building. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if he was even listening. It annoyed you a little, but you felt like you had no right to feel that way in the first place. As a result, you just ignored the emotions building up inside you.

“This is the art section, if you have any art classes in your schedule, all classes would be located here.” You pointed into a different hallway, and Gyuvin still didn't say anything. You glanced at him for a split second to make sure he was at least looking at the direction I’m pointing towards.

The more the two of you continued walking around, the more awkward it felt for you. You glanced at Gyuvin again, and this time, it made him furrow his eyebrows. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as stared down at you, “what are you looking at?” He finally broke the silence with a frown. “Am I not allowed to look at you?” you find yourself saying something snarky back at him before you could even stop yourself.

That only encourage Gyuvin to banter more with you, though. He definitely had no problem arguing. In fact, it seemed like he was in the mood for it. “It’s rude to stare.” He said with a scowl on his face. “You’re rude.” You answered back. He had a look of amusement on his face, surprisingly. Like he was enjoying the back and forth between you and him. “I wouldn’t be if you were actually on time.” He said it in such a nonchalant way, but you just know he said it to piss you off, because you couldn't argue back against that.

So, it was back to being silent as you showed him around again, trying to act civil. Gyuvin knew he had won this round, and he had a smug look on his face.

You were soon done with showing him around the north wing of the school, and you contemplated doing something evil. It was like there was a little angel and devil on your shoulders debating with each other to tell you what to do. At the end, though, the devil won. Because you’re not always a good person — and that’s okay.

“Gyuvin, follow me.” You gestured as you turned your heels to walk towards a darker part of the building. Gyuvin followed you unsuspectingly, and you had to force yourself from rubbing your hands together like an evil cartoon character.

The both of you stopped in front of a large door, it wasn’t locked, but both you and Gyuvin could tell that the place inside was extremely dark. It was a gym pool under construction, so it was naturally off limits for students, but Gyuvin doesn’t know that.

“You should look around inside. All the kids do it, it’s cool.” You told him before taking a few steps back. Your initial plan was to just scare him a little in that dark gym pool. “What about you?” Gyuvin asked, he paused for a beat, “aren’t you gonna come in, too? You scared?” He flashed his signature annoying grin. “It’s dusty inside, I don’t wanna get my uniform dirty.” You answered swiftly.

You had to give yourself a pat on the back. That excuse rolled out of your tongue smoothly. You glanced over your shoulder to see Gyuvin think for a second before shrugging. He allowed himself to walk into the gym pool, and when the door closed behind him, you immediately walked back with the original idea of locking him inside for a good five minutes. Maybe annoy him, make him apologise for being mean, and say ‘please’ before finally letting him out. Well, that was the original plan, anyway.

Although, of course, karma didn’t wait long to hit you. Too bad you’re no Taylor Swift, and karma was definitely not your boyfriend nor a cat purring on your lap. This also goes without saying that it was because of Gyuvin himself, too. Instead of being fazed by the fact that you were about to lock himself in, he had gotten all nosy and distracted by his surroundings. Without thinking much about the repercussions that comes with being nosy, he decided to touch some of the things around. Hell, he didn’t even notice you locking him in.

On the other side of the door, you hear something falling and hit the concrete, followed by a loud thud. You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew it couldn’t be good. Your fingers moved on instinct as you unlocked and opened the door in a panic, your other hand reaching out for your phone for the flashlight.

You burst into the gym pool, flashed the entire place with your phone’s flashlight just to find Gyuvin laying on the floor, his head slightly bleeding. “Gyuvin!” You shrieked in horror as you ran to him, it’s not really common for you to see a 6’1” tall man lying flat on the floor like a crime scene episode you’d see on Buzzfeed Unsolved. It could not be a good sign either.

“Gyuvin!” You shrieked again, you put his head on your lap, and in hindsight, it was a tad bit dramatic for you to do that. Gyuvin let out a groan in response, from the scene in front of you, you could kinda imagine what had happened — a brick probably fell on Gyuvin’s head. Well, not exactly a brick — but it was something of those sorts. Not too dangerous, but his head was still bleeding.

“I’m calling the ambulance!” You say, your voice a pitch higher from panicking. Your complexion slightly paler, your forehead producing cold sweat, and your fingers trembling as you made your phone call. “Nnn… no…” Gyuvin murmured softly as you laid his head on your lap while you asked for an ambulance. “I’m not dead…” he added, almost scowling.

“Shh!” You scolded, while your free hand went to hold the part of his head that was bleeding as gently as possible. “Your head is bleeding, Gyuvin…” you say sadly, you stared at him apologetically too. “I’ll get you to the hospital, I promise. Just shut up and don’t waste your energy.” You added. It almost made Gyuvin chuckle, if he wasn’t so weirded out by the situation the two of you were currently in. You were so worried, when he wasn’t even badly injured. Sure, his head was throbbing from the open wound, but it wasn’t an internal bleeding or anything like that. It was just a wound on the head.

While yes, Gyuvin was a little weak because he had his head hit by something hard. But also yes to the fact that Gyuvin was annoyed because you were panicking for his well being. Even in such crucial times, Gyuvin managed to be irritated by your presence. He could barely process what you were saying to the telephone operator. The other thing he couldn’t process? The fact that he’s really enjoying being this close with you. He liked laying his head on your lap. In fact, he doesn’t even realise that he liked it. He swears he’s weirded out, but that’s only because he couldn’t exactly process his emotions and gather his thoughts at that time.

All he knew was that he didn’t like it when the paramedics took him from you when they transferred him onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. Although, of course, he wasn’t sure why he didn’t like it. Gyuvin told himself that it was probably just the comfort of being held after taking a literal blow on the head. He still finds you annoying. But would he jump on the opportunity of laying his head on your lap again? Well, yeah.

Everything was so bright inside the ambulance, you were there next to him, his visions were blurry, but he knew you were probably crying and muttering ‘is he gonna die?’ numerous times to the paramedic. He could’ve sworn you looked like snot was dripping from your nose, but he wasn’t entirely sure. It made him chuckle anyway, though.

Your face was the last thing he thought of before surrendering to his tired body. He fell asleep, but you were adamant that he was unconscious. Surprisingly, though, he managed to move his hand just enough for it to brush against yours. The motion was too subtle for either of you to notice it, but that was definitely Gyuvin’s body reacting. Reacting to what, exactly? Who knows.

Do you still hate each other? Maybe. Does your body crave each other’s touches after being close once? Yeah. Are either of you aware? Definitely not.

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SYNOPSIS -͟͟͞☆ gyuvin tells himself that he’ll be okay, and losing friends is a part of growing up. he firmly believes that having to move schools in a different city was the universe telling him to try again. he then meets you, and he hates you. he knows he should be thankful that you saved his life, but every time he sees you, he gets annoyed.

NOTE -͟͟͞☆ this was long overdue and i apologise friends but i’m so glad i finally finished writing this

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