#I am unable to draw the same person twice and have them look even close to similar

[katimanki]

Elmaxweek2023 Day 5: Flowers and Nature

@elmax-week2023

#elmaxweek2023 #Day 5: flowers and nature #elmax #I am quite happy with this actually!! #some part could use some more work but it's fine #I especially enjoy how the earings turned out #and MAx's hair!! #shitbyme #myart #dont' look at me #I am unable to draw the same person twice and have them look even close to similar

[mewtagen-mau]

Entry 10

I had…a very unusual dream last night. No. That’s not quite right. I mean, it is. It was very much a dream. But I think in a way it was also real. The other three shared this unusual dream, and Shelalu also noted we all seemed restless in the night. Neither Shelalu nor Nualia had the dream.

In the dream, I was pulled from my sleeping arrangements by the web of a giant spider, which dragged me up into the sky. Instead of a web to ensnare me at the top, I found myself stepping out into somewhere bright and loud and impossible to wrap my head around. Everything was gold or had flashing lights. There were other people at what appeared to be various gambling games, but none seemed to draw my eye at the time—except for a large man made of stone, an aptly named Stone Giant. However, whatever business I had in this dream, it was not with him.

I arrived at this gambling hall with the other three, and although we went our separate ways to look around this unusual place, we all found ourselves meeting again at a large table, set up for playing cards. There was a man there. I couldn’t seem to bring myself to meet his eyes, but I saw his hands. There were golden hooked rings on them. I feel like I’d seen those rings somewhere before—somewhere recently—but I’ve been unable to determine where I’d seen them. I certainly didn’t mention them in my journal. I checked.

The man wanted to play cards with us, to get to know us. He said something about the way a person gambles showing so much about them. He dealt us each a Poker hand. I had a straight flush, so I felt quite confident, and chose to stay in. Krysa and Nanel did the same.

When we revealed our hands, Krysa also had a flush, while Nanel had three of a kind. The man said something to Nanel about how he can’t win if his partner is cheating. Then he produced another hand of cards which was apparently meant to represent Donyoku’s hand. It was all jokers.

Finally, the man revealed his own hand. A royal flush.

The man told us that we would meet like this again, twice more. Then the strange dreamscape faded away, and I awoke the next morning.

While we were preparing to return to the ruins, Nanel said he wanted to come clean about something. He explained that he hadn’t been entirely straightforward with us about what Donyoku is. Nanel had originally claimed Donyoku was his god. However now he revealed the truth—Donyoku was a parasitic plant, using Nanel as his host. Nanel showed us the vines growing through his flesh, and even manifested a second head made entirely of vines for Donyoku to speak to us through directly.

Donyoku claimed he only had Nanel’s best interests at heart. That he was here to protect him. That he cared for him. That this relationship was symbiotic, not parasitic.

I am…not sure I believe him. I was already feeling wary of him when I thought he was some manifestation of a celestial being. Knowing he is a parasite, protecting Nanel out of necessity for his own existence, does not help me feel generous towards him. Nanel trusts him wholeheartedly, however. I asked some questions to clarify my understanding of their relationship and what Donyoku is, and I felt like Donyoku was dripping with manipulation the entire time. But Nanel is too close to notice—quite literally, unfortunately.

I was not the only one who felt this way. Krysa was clearly guarded and slightly aggressive towards the plant creature, while Tabot was outright hostile. Although we all eventually agreed to continue working together even knowing this new information, it was clear that there was tension under the surface. But for now, Donyoku had promised he was trying to do better about not hurting his own allies, and I don’t think any of us wanted to alienate Nanel by pushing the argument any farther.

Nanel will have to see for himself that Donyoku doesn’t have his best interests at heart. Until then, there is no chance he will be convinced. Some things people just have to realize on their own, as painful as it is to see this and feel like he needs to be separated from this creature for his own good (and likely his own health), and wanting to help push him in the right direction. That would end poorly, I am certain.

So, once all our morning preparations were complete, we made our way back to the Thessalonian ruins. It was somehow more harrowing than Nualia, a demonic bugbear, and a greater bargheist combined.

What awaited us in the vault were Shadows. Horrible undead wraiths that could draw out your very lifeforce with but a touch.

They appeared all around the room—still close enough together for Krysa to light them up, but too far for me to do the same with my explosives. My sword was ineffective against them, as well, as it passed right through them doing minimal actual damage.

Tabot, on the other hand, proved exceptionally adept in this fight. He was able to channel positive energy to burn away the negative energy holding the spirits together, and by channeling his holy power into his blade he made it able to cut through spirits as a sword normally cuts through flesh.

We found a secret passage after the shadows were cleared away. It led even further down below the ruins. To a small underground bay. There was an enormous golden helmet in the middle of the water, looking for all the world like some giant warrior had fallen in battle and decayed to nothing but dust, leaving only their helm to mark where they had passed.

More likely, it was just decorative.

Far more intriguing was the wall art. It was a fresco of a glittering golden city nestled amongst mountains. Given the context of the rest of the ruins, I theorized that this was a depiction of the legendary city of Xin’Shalast, which is said to have been a Thassalonian city made entirely of gold. No one has ever found evidence of such a city. No ruins like these. But Varisia is a big place. Maybe it is out there somewhere. It would certainly be a historical marvel.

While I was admiring the wall art, the giant helmet sprang to life. Well, more precisely, the creature beneath it sprang from hiding. The giant golden helmet was being used as a shell for an equally giant crab.

We dispatched the crab, and the others began discussing how we could get the helmet out, so we could sell it. I couldn’t deny that so much gold would be worth a small fortune. But I dismissed myself from the conversation when the others decided the best course of action would be to swim beneath it, using the helmet to trap a bubble of air above them so they could breath as they maneuvered it in the water. I am less than fond of swimming, especially in an ocean we’ve already seen houses bunyips, giant crabs, and all manner of nasty aquatic beasts. So while the others swam their find out, I took the long way back, up the stairs and back through the ruins.

Once we reconvened with Shelalu and Nualia, we made our preparations to head back to Sandpoint. And figured out our plan for what to do about secreting Nualia into town.

The sun was setting as we made it to the outskirts of town. We had two ideas of where to leave Nualia—Nanel’s place or The Rusty Dragon. Nanel’s home would be easier, but he talked about it like it was just a hole in the ground somewhere rather than a real house.

And to be perfectly honest, when we took her there initially, that description is not entirely far off. It was small, and kind of damp and musty. We decided not to leave Nualia there for long, just for long enough for us to talk to Ameiko and get her approval to hide Nualia there.

Seeing as Nualia was a big part of what got both her father and brother killed…I was admittedly worried about how she would take the request.

Still, we returned to the Rusty Dragon to speak with her. She was skeptical at first, of course. But we explained everything, including that she’d been manipulated by the literal goddess of monsters, and when she chose to act in a way antithetical to Lamashtu, she lost her arm as the price. So she was very clearly in a state where she’s open to working on doing better, and she is very much not in the state to kill anyone or lead another goblin raid, or what-have-you.

Ameiko agreed, on the condition that if Nualia did anything to harm anyone, she would kill the woman herself. We agreed that those were acceptable terms—Ameiko isn’t the sort of person to abuse it to take revenge on Nualia. She’ll probably just have her scrub dishes and wait tables as her early penance. Some regular work would probably do her good.

The other thing Ameiko asked of us was that we provide some kind of distraction so no one would see her enter the tavern. We brainstormed, and Tabot floated the idea of doing a live performance. Specifically, Tabot wanted to do a stand up comedy act.

Tabot does not know the first thing about stand up comedy. This was a recipe for disaster. Which actually meant it was the perfect distraction. We all agreed. Nanel said he would stay behind and keep an eye on things incase anything went wrong, while Krysa and I would return to Nanel’s home and retrieve Nualia. I also got her a inconspicuous travelling cloak, so that she could throw a hood up and obscure her face a bit. It had been years since she was last in Sandpoint, but her features are rather…conspicuous.

It's interesting, I’d never met an aasimar besides Morri. What is interesting is how their features have a sort of similarity but they also look wholly different. Nualia is beautiful, with long white hair, but completely white eyes that seem to have a bit of a glow to them. Morri is Morri. You couldn’t mistake her for human, with her almost unnaturally perfect face and golden eyes that seem like they hold the sun. I suppose it’s always struck me as a bit novel, how they look so incredibly human but also so incredibly not. I am obviously not human, being a catfolk, there is virtually no overlap. Morri and Nualia, though. The differences are so slight that I’m surprised I would even see them, and yet they are somehow both subtle and obvious.

I am so glad that Morri never went through the things Nualia did. I…cannot imagine. All that pressure on a little girl. The way she was othered. And then all that venom at the sort of mistake so many other teens make. She wasn’t allowed to make mistakes, to have bad judgement, or to be in any way a regular child or teen. People saw her as a symbol instead of as a person. And symbols don’t have feelings, don’t get angry or sad, don’t fight back.

It is no wonder things turned out the way they did.

Anyways…where was I? My mind wandered a bit. Right. Getting Nualia into the Rusty Dragon.

So Krysa and I went and retrieved Nualia, and snuck her in through the back entrance. I didn’t get the pleasure of seeing Tabot’s performance, but I could hear the crowd heckling him as we took Nualia upstairs.

And then a bar fight broke out.

It would seem Tabot’s act was so bad it drove the tipsy patrons to violence. Not against him, thank goodness. But it sounded like a good few people were thrown out of the Rusty Dragon.

I am now safely in my own room of the inn. I plan on sleeping soon. But…I am hesitant. What was that dream last night, really? Nualia had said a stone man had sent her instructions in her dreams. Could the stone giant I saw in that gambling hall be the one who’d ordered my house burnt down? What will happen if we continue indulging this mysterious card dealer? He seems to be expecting us to meet again, which I assume means more strange dreams. I wonder if I should just throw the amulet with that Thassalonian rune into the ocean.

But it is my only lead. I can’t discard it until I understand where these dreams are coming from, and who is it that has it out for me.

#journal entry #pathfinder #rise of the runelords #rotrl

[rosetheex-editor]

[Video transcript begin.]

[The transcript begins with the camera in a wagon, it faces the back of someone in a brown jacket. A ruby sewn on the back. The person's hair is not visible from the hood, their arm is outstretched, the black plastic handle of the wagon in their hand. In the background the faint jingle of a music box is heard, seemingly being played in the wagon.]

?: Remember what I told you.

[Voice identified: Rose.]

Sp: Don't play it loud. I know.

R: Yeah, we're close to where Ruby was last so y'know.

[Sparrow sighs, turning off the music box and dropping it in the wagon with a thunk. Rose stops the wagon.]

R: What?

Sp: Why are you worried? We've lived this long. Correct?

R: You and I both know anything can happen.

[A loud, metallic scraping noise can be heard distantly.]

R: W- What… Ok Sparrow come on.

[Rose tries to move, her arm grabbed by Sparrow. Bandages visible through the holes in the child's blue sweater. The scraping noise continues.]

R: WHAT?

Sp: I need… Water.

R: [Whispered.] WELL I DON'T WANT TO DIE

Sp: You have. A gun.

R: I… Good point!

[Rose drops the handle of the wagon and pulls a gun out of her pocket, Putting it very close to her head.]

Sp: Is that. Smart?

R: I have one fucking eye dude!

[The scraping grows even louder, as the source of the sound draws closer. A figure appears from behind the corner, a large metal object in one hand. They seem to have been using it to walk.]

R: STAY BACK OR I'LL SHOOT! I- I- what…

[The camera moves, Sparrow propping the camera against what is seemingly their legs. Both figures now properly in frame.]

[The first figure freezes, the metal object clatters to the ground.]

R: No no no no no, you’re dead, I saw you die. TWICE! I HELD YOU AS YOU BLED OUT THE FIRST FUCKING TIME! SPARROW PLEASE TELL ME I'M JUST LOSING IT.

Sp: No. Well… You pointed a gun at someone. So maybe.

?: … Hi.

[Voice identified: Edgar.]

R: Did I take my pills today? Sparrow, did I take them?

Sp: Yes. Yes you did. Hi mystery person.

R: [Whispered.] Am I dead? No, because Sparrow isn't dead. Can I see ghosts? No, why would I be able to see ghosts?

[Rose begins walking back and forth in front of the wagon, popping in and out of frame.]

[After a few seconds of watching, Edgar takes a step forward, almost immediately falling over.]

Sp: Are you ok? Rose quit freaking out. Help the mystery person.

[No response besides the same now jumbled whispers.]

Sp: I swear. Anyway. Are you good?

E: Yeah! I’m, uh. I’m fine. Just… yeah.

R: Quit talking to the dead guy Sparrow.

Sp: Eh? He looks alive to me. Are you alive?

[The man sits up, his features now visible. He appears to be covered in blood, his clothes look as if they’d been ripped up by a paper shredder, but he gives the two a thumbs up, smiling as if nothing was wrong.]

Sp: Rose quit being stubb-

[Rose turns around to face the child, tears falling from her one visible eye, a look of distraught on her face.]

R: I WATCHED HIM SHOOT HIMSELF IN THE CHEST SPARROW! I HELD HIM AS HE DIED! THEN JUST WHEN I THOUGHT I GOT HIM BACK HE GOT SHOT IN THE FUCKING FACE ON LIVE TV!

E: Um… surprise?

Sp: Hug him.

R: What?

Sp: Hug him. If he's dead you won't be able to right?

[Rose sighs, slowly inching towards Edgar.]

R: You sound like your birth mom bloody hell.

[Rose stops right next to the figure, her hands slowly tapping on her hips.]

R: Soooooooo. Um. Can I hug you? Ghost man?

E: Please.

[Rose falls to the ground and hugs Edgar, after a few seconds she begins sobbing.]

R: I- It’s… R- Really you?

E: [Sounding as if he’s holding back tears.] Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.

R: I thought… I. Y- you…

[Rose continues the hug, now sobbing on the man's bloody shoulder.]

E: No, I’ve– it was faked. For the show. I– I–

[Edgar finally begins crying, unable to finish his sentence.]

R: I… [Muffled.] Please never do that again… Please talk to me next time.

E: I won’t. I promise I won’t ever do that again. I’m sorry.

R: I was scared… I… God I don't know how long I just… Spent in a tree. After that I…

Sp: According to Ness and Henry 3 days.

R: I um… I'm sorry I didn't try and help, I missed you so fucking much.

E: Same here. I– don’t blame yourself for that. Please. I– it wasn’t. It was my fault. Not yours.

R: IT WASN'T YOUR FUCKING FAULT! Can people quit saying that!

Sp: Isn't that hypocritical?

R: [Muffled.] I don't practice what I say sparrow. [Unmuffled.] But my point stands! Not your fault!

E: I’m– I’m sorry, I can’t fully believe that. I… I can’t.

Sp: Mystery man. I was told to blame everything on showfall or Mai. So why do you blame yourself?

[Edgar looks up, tears streaming down his face.]

E: I had a choice to not pull the trigger, kid. And yet…

R: STOP! Quit fucking saying it was your fault you pain in my ass!

E: Rose, if it’s not my fault, then who’s fault is it?

R: You wouldn't have felt like that if not for Showfall correct?

E: … there were other factors.

R: Like what…

E: I’d… rather not say. Not yet.

R: I'm here no matter what, I promise. I'm not leaving… [Whispered.] I can't lose my family again.

E: Thank you.

[Edgar continues to sob, showing no sign of stopping soon.]

Sp: May I ask. Who is this mystery man? I zoned out except to correct you.

R: Wha-

E: Oh. Right. They’ve never…

R: Don't you have a pic- Nevermind that probably isn't very accurate now huh?

E: Uh… alright. [Clears throat.] Hello, Sparrow. My name is Edgar, nice to meet you.

Sp: You don't look. Like how I imagined.

[Rose looks over her shoulder, presumably toward Sparrow. A look of shock mixed with annoyance on her face.]

R: What?

[Edgar laughs, coughing a few times after.]

E: What did you think I looked like?

Sp: I drew. A picture.

[Fabric shuffling behind the camera, An arm pops in at the top of the frame pointing towards Rose. Who begrudgingly stands up and walks over to the wagon, paper ripping is heard and moments later Rose returns to Edgar with a piece of paper.]

R: Here.

[Edgar looks at the paper, and bursts out laughing.]

E: I– honestly, if I didn’t know what I looked like, this is what I’d think of, too.

Sp: I see. Also because it has become tradition. And you hurt me.

[Metal and fabric shuffling, after 5 seconds. Sparrow throws an empty metal soup can into frame, pelting Edgar in the head.]

Sp: That's for what you did in the forest.

[The man smiles, holding a metal arm to where the soup can hit.]

E: Yeah… I deserved that. Sorry, kiddo.

R: Oh. Hi adam- WAIT ADAM WHAT THE FUCK?

[Rose removes the hood over their head, long curly brunette hair falling out and covering a bandaged part of her head. As well as some of the patch on her back.]

E: Oh, yeah, um. Adam kinda just… showed up. After I… um. Yeah. Say hi, Adam.

[The robotic arm unlatches from Edgar’s arm, landing on the floor with a quiet clank. He uses the mechanical tendrils in the back part of the arm area to wave at Rose, before scuttling over to Sparrow.]

Sp: H- Hi?

[Sparrow's voice changes, for once not the monotone or sad it normally sounds. This time having a tone of joy.]

?: Hello. Sparrow. I have something. For you.

[Voice identified: Adam.]

[A series of mechanical whirs, before Adam hands Sparrow a lollipop.]

Sp: Wh- THANK YOU!

R: Hooooly shit I don't think I've ever seen the kid that happy.

A: I have had that. For many days. I felt now would be a good time to. Give it to you.

R: As long as you don't try and teach them arson I'm fine with this. You two being friends.

[Adam turns to look(?) at Rose, before producing a lighter from… god knows where.]

A: You are. Lame.

R: They are thirteen, no teaching them to burn shit down.

Sp: Ness did that, does that make her the cool aunt?

R: NESS DID FUCKING WHAT NOW?

A: Two. Things. One, I am under one year. Old. Age does not matter in the case of. Fire. And two. Ness burnt down a… ‘Night Club.’ With Ophelia. And the rest of the ‘Public Relations’ Department.

R: Oh right… I forgot.

[Rose mumbles something under her breath.]

Sp: Do not talk about. Wanting to sleep with the cool aunt.

[Fabric shuffling as if Sparrow was pointing at someone.]

Sp: He's under a year old.

A: I am but. A mere infant.

R: How the hell did you hear me?

Sp: I have good hearing. Please do not talk about wanting to be tie-

[Rose hops up and cuts Sparrow off.]

R: OK ANYWAY NEW SUBJECT! ADAM HOW IS UH… Everyone I can't really check in from here.

A: They are. Worried. For you. And happy that. Edgar is not dead. I do not pick up on emotions easily. That is all I have to say. Unfortunately.

R: They don't have to worry… I'll be fine.

Sp: You had us directly across from “Hetch's” office.

A: I must say. That is a less than ideal hiding spot.

E: You fucking what.

R: IN MY DEFENSE! I DIDN'T FUCKING KNOW THAT UNTIL MANAGER TRIED TO KILL ME THE OTHER DAY!

E: HE WHAT.

R: IT'S A REALLY LONG STORY THAT I DON'T FEEL LIKE GETTING INTO! JUST KNOW, MANAGER TRIED TO KILL ME, I SHOT MANAGER, I PUSHED A SHELF ON MANAGER, WE RAN.

E: Ugh, seems like we both had our own little run-ins with that prick. He runs fast, good on you for pushing a shelf onto them.

R: Running fast isn't an achievement when I ran through the mall with a plant on my back once.

E: Yeah, I’m just lucky I can run faster than him. They described what would’ve happened if I didn’t. So I guess that was some good motivation.

R: What? They just told me I'd be ‘fired’ even though I technically quit.

E: Oh, so you weren’t threatened to be… what did he say… ah! Right. ‘Strung from the wall on the first floor’? Lucky.

R: At least I don't think I was…

Sp: We should. Really plan to get out of here. That does not sound. nice.

E: Yeah. And honestly, even though he’s a little… er… incompetent at times. I do think Manager is going to be a large issue.

R: So what? We could be fucked?

E: No, not entirely. I’m just saying… if you see a red light approaching you, don’t wait around to find out what it is.

Sp: So red and green lights are bad?

R: Yep.

Sp: Hm. I see.

E: Merry Christmas, by the way. Sorry, the combination of colors reminded me that it’s almost December.

A: What’s. This?

Sp: A box.

A: Why.

Sp: I don't actually know. Rose answer that one.

R: Ok! Storytime I guess, y'all know how I was in here… A while?

E: Yeah?

R: Well, before Ruby escaped that one time, we had a hideout in an empty spot of the ventilation shaft. After she escaped I never got the chance to go back… I guess Ruby did when she came back because, I found that in said hideout.

A: … Neat.

R: I uh… Haven't actually opened it, there was a note that said I couldn't open it until on or after my birthday in 2010… Or 2011… Or 2012… Or. You get the point.

E: Hm…

R: Yeah? What's up?

E: Oh, um. It’s nothing.

R: I… If it's not nothing and you're lying. Will you talk to me about it?

E: … Fine. It’s… I was just wondering if anyone ever tried to help me during those 24 years I worked here.

R: I… Maybe? I know Ruby tried to help people… Dunno who all she tried to help honestly.

E: Huh… Well, I guess we’ll never really know, huh?

R: I… About that, do you think… Somewhere in there she's there? Like I was?

[Edgar pauses, staring at Rose, his expression changes several times, first from confusion, to deep thought, then to guilt.]

E: No. No, I don’t think so. Nothing salvageable, at least. I’m sorry.

R: I… [Whispered.] Why is everyone saying that…

E: There’s… something I’d actually like to tell you. It’s important. And fairly on topic, I feel.

R: What? What is it?

E: You’re familiar with… S.V2, right?

R: The… Thing in the tunnels? Right?

E: Yeah. I… have reason to believe. That it’s not just… one entity.

R: Wait like there's more than one or?

E: No, no. I think it’s… not just one consciousness.

R: I… What are you getting at here dude?

E: When it was chasing after me, both times. It looked to be fighting against itself, trying not to hurt me. There are still people in that fucking thing.

R: I… Do you think we can help them?

E: And… that's the reason I’m telling you this. We can’t. I know we can’t. Rose, I need you to listen to me. Okay? Just listen to me for a moment.

R: …

E: Even if there’s something left of Ruby in there. We can’t get her back. She’s too far gone. I’m really sorry, Rose. But we can’t hold onto hope for something like that. It’ll end terribly.

R: I… Edgar… I… Please…

E: If it were up to me, she’d be alive and here with us, but nobody can reverse what’s been done to her.

R: THE… THE REVIVAL THINGY! SHOWFALL CAN BRING PEOPLE BACK! YOU'VE SEEN IT! HELL I'VE FELT IT TWENTY-SEVEN FUCKING TIMES!

[Rose begins laughing, not out of joy or sadness. But her own delusion.]

E: Rose.

R: She's… We can… Please…

[Rose's laughing slows, she begins sobbing again.]

E: I’m sorry, Rose. I really wish things could be different. I really do.

R: I shouldn't be here… It should be Ruby in my place… She had a kid, a husband, a life… I'm just a dumb fucking kid.

E: Hey, you’re my dumb fucking kid. You have a life too, you know. You’ve got Ness, you’ve got Kath, you’ve got me. You deserve to be here just as much as the rest of us. Got it?

R: I just want my big sister… I can't do this… I can't…

E: You can. It’ll be hard, but you’re going to make it through.

R: I want her back… I would do anything…

E: I know, I know… we should… probably get moving, huh?

Sp: Yes. My back is hurting.

R: Yeah… I um… Yeah.

A: My back is also. Hurting.

E: Adam. You don’t– ugh, never mind. Could you go grab the crowbar? I was… using that to move.

[Adam scuttles over and grabs the crowbar, reattaching to Edgar’s arm, he begins to slowly stand up.]

R: There’s room in the wagon. Y'know that right?

E: I can walk.

R: Can you?

E: Well, I made it over here, didn’t I?

R: Edgar.

E: Rose, I need to use my legs, I’ve barely moved for the past… however long. I need to walk.

R: Fine, but if you need it. It's there. Uh Sparrow?

Sp: We forgot water.

R: I will get you your water.

E: Uh, so… are you two planning on going anywhere? Or do you want to follow me to where I’ve been?

R: Uh… Refill the water containers, go back to our hideout… That’s about it.

E: … the hideout across from Hetch’s office?

R: No, we changed location. Uh… This one should be fine?

E: Oh, alright. I… need to go back to Mari’s hideout. They might get worried if I just… don’t come back, y’know?

R: Oh… Mari…

[Rose clears her throat, then whispers something into Edgar's ear not heard by the camera.]

E: Rose, they… I’ve been told how rough of a choice that was. Don’t be too hard on them.

R: They shot her, not just in front of me but in front of the kid. I had to drag Sarah's cold dead body into a fucking plant pot.

Sp: Hm.

E: … At least it was painless…?

R: … I… Let's just get going.

E: Yeah, yeah. I’ll um… I’ll go.

R: No. I haven’t seen you in over a fucking month. Can we… Walk and talk?

E: Oh, uh. Sure. Yeah!

Sp: I have not… Gotten to actually speak to him at all. In person at least.

E: Mhm. It’s nice to finally see you in person, Sparrow. Your hair looks nice.

Sp: Thank you.

R: They uh… They remind me a lot of Ruby when we were kids.

E: Oh, did you cut their hair? Nice work, if so.

R: No uh… Ophelia from PR did.

E: Oh.

R: Listen I… I still don't trust them but… Ophelia is nice to the kid and Ness so.

E: Jeez, I’ve missed… a lot. Haven’t I? Ugh.

R: Emi and Eden um.

Sp: They slept together.

[Rose bolts around to face Sparrow.]

R: SPARROW!

E: They keep bragging about it in my inbox. I already know.

R: She wants to remask Sparrow.

Sp: Yeah um…

E: Jesus fucking Christ. Where’s a damn pack of cigarettes when you need one…

R: Remember how you had a pack on you… In the forest.

[Edgar pauses.]

E: … yes?

R: Sparrow!

Sp: Catch.

[Sparrow throws an object into frame, a cigarette pack. Rose catches it and hands the pack to Edgar.]

R: Sorry there's um… Only seven…

E: Wh– Rose… Have you been smoking?

R: Want the truth or the one that will make you less upset?

E: Neither, hand over the lighter. I’m confiscating it.

R: I've been stressed ok! [Muffled between her legs.] You try taking care of Sparrow.

E: Lighter. Now.

[Sparrow throws another thing into frame, a lighter. Hitting Rose in the right arm, followed by throwing a full soup can at her head. It hits with a thud.]

R: OW WHAT THE FUCK?

E: Hey. Knock it off. This family does not need more head trauma.

Sp: That is for the. Comment. Also. What is up with your limbs? Mr Edgar. We are. Almost matching.

E: [Quickly.] It’s nothing, don't worry about it, let's change the subject!

R: Dad. Don't.

Sp: You were eating yourself in there. Weren't you?

E: Sparrow. You’re being ridiculous, why would I ev–

[One of the pieces of fabric tied around his arm slides, revealing a deep bite wound.]

R: Dad…

[Rose hops up and walks to the wagon.]

R: Remove the fabric.

E: Rose, please. I’d rather not.

R: I'm going to doctor your fucking injuries properly. Remove the fabric so I can do that please.

E: You don’t need to, it’s fi–

R: Edgar.

E: Fine. But I get to put it all back over top of the wounds after.

R: Fine, it can be like your armor in a video game.

[Edgar walks over to the wagon, leaning heavily on the crowbar for support, he nearly collapses when he reaches it.]

R: CAREFUL! Oh my fucking god I'm turning into Ruby… Um. Not careful! I guess.

[The camera slightly shifts as Sparrow seemingly moves closer to Edgar.]

E: Um, just a warning. It’s… pretty gross.

R: I've seen… Whatever the fuck you want to classify those task managers as. I think I'll be fine.

Sp: If you show your wounds I'll show mine.

[Edgar carefully takes the pieces of fabric off of his limbs, revealing many bite wounds. Edgar does not look at either person who is nearby.]

R: Wait a fucking minute… Noona. Said you were alive, and you've been in a corpse room since the show.

[Edgar looks at the floor, not wanting to make eye contact.]

R: I… I'm sorry.

E: Mhm.

[Rose begins wrapping the bandages around his arms, she is seemingly humming a song. Though it cannot be identified.]

E: Er… my finger is also… broken. Um.

R: How.

[He mutters something under his breath, before clearing his throat.]

R: What? Ok you know what. Can we both make a promise?

E: … okay, what?

R: No more secrets. Please? Let's talk about this shit.

E: … Fine.

R: What did you mumble?

E: I… I broke it myself. Out of boredom. I’m sorry.

R: Don't apologize, I did something like that once. It's how I learned I have a secret talent… Well how I got it too

E: Well, nothing like that happened for me. I was just in a closet full of corpses with a broken bone.

R: I um… Christ… Should I share something in return? A secret?

E: Only if you want to.

R: First, I'm done.

[Rose snatches a small pocket knife from the wagon, cutting the roll of bandages, Edgar subtly flinches away, but regains his composure. Rose throws both objects into the wagon.]

R: Second. Why did you flinch? I… I'm not going to hurt you.

E: … I don’t want to talk about it.

R: I'm not going to hurt you, I uh… Think my heart would fucking explode if I tried.

E: I know, it’s just… I don’t want to talk about that right now.

R: Well then… Time for uh… Me to stop running from this huh.

[Rose sighs, seemingly out of sadness.]

E: Yeah?

R: Has Emi told you… Which part of my family she's on?

E: No…?

R: Great… Um… Has she at least said she's my half sister? I know she's told others…

E: I believe so…? Even if she hasn’t, you just did, so…

R: Ok! So… You know how I uh… I've stuttered kinda when talking about my mom?

[Edgar nods.]

R: Ok… I can't really keep dodging it, when I was five my birth mom… hooked up with another man, it was I think less than a month after my birth dad died.

E: Oh, uh. That’s… hm.

R: A week later, she got pregnant… Kicked me and Ruby out of the house, Ruby took care of me for 4 days before our aunt found us.

E: That’s… really awful, Rose. I’m sorry she did that to you.

R: Yeah, I uh… I call my aunt my mom because even though she was really strict… I know why she was. I was the ‘weird’ kid in school, I got bullied because I asked a girl out one time… Part of why my birth mom kicked… Me out

E: Fucking hell…

R: Yeah… It's why it hurts so much Ruby's gone… If it weren't for her I probably would've died under a bridge or something…

Sp: Can I ask a question? Perhaps to lighten the mood?

R: Sure kid… Go ahead.

Sp: Edgar does Rose know you slept with two separate men in high school.

R: Sparrow what the fuck?

E: OF ALL THE FUCKING QUESTIONS YOU COULD’VE ASKED, WHY THAT ONE.

Sp: I thought it was the funniest one.

[Edgar places his head in his hands, laughing.]

Sp: Rose. have you done things like Edgar?

R: Beat people with a crowbar or the other one.

Sp: You know.

R: Then no comment.

E: What I did in high school is none of your business, Sparrow.

Sp: But it's the business of tumblr dot com anons?

E: That’s the only thing I had in there! It was either answer that, or go crazy.

R: [Muffled.] I feel like I'm going crazy.

Sp: You don't get to talk, you no commented a question.

R: Dad help.

E: I can’t help you here, Rose. They got me good.

R: Fine want an answer?

Sp: You said no more secrets. Correct Edgar?

E: I don’t think it can apply to stuff like this!

R: [Extremely Muffled.] no. now leave me the fuck alone about it.

E: God, Sparrow. I was saving that story for… many years down the line.

Sp: You are both. Incredibly sad. So I picked the funniest thing.

E: You sure did. At least Rose didn’t hear it from Leooo… [Trailing off.] I mean. Um. Nobody.

R: You fucked Leon, congrats want a award?

E: I do not want a sex award, no.

Sp: Isn't Leon the guy in the apartment with your girlfriend and ex girlfriend. And Rose's girlfriend, and Mari's sister.

A: Don’t forget. Liam.

Sp: Yeah, Liam.

R: Can we not mention Ness at the same time as your asking dumb questions?

Sp: This is why she's the cool aunt. She wouldn't call my questions dumb.

E: Let’s move away from this topic. We should probably get going, huh?

R: I'm just glad to fucking see you, genuinely…

E: Yeah… I’ve… really, really missed you

R: Same… Um, can we come with you to Mari’s hideout? Just to visit?

E: Well, I don’t see why not.

R: Cool let me just.

[Rose walks over to the wagon, finally noticing the camera and Sighing for 5 seconds.]

E: It recorded all of that, didn’t it.

R: Y'know what! Fuck it! Record all you want because that was a happy thing you son of a BIT-

[End transcript.]

#((ooc) gore) #((ooc) mentions of autocanibalism #((ooc) suggestive) #showfall ask blog #encoreverse blog #rose

[l-r-christian]

Title: 'Tied to one' part four

Summary: The siblings had learned that a witch had rewrote their soul strings mean while Mikael had went after Freya and Y/N as Hayley's misdeeds are undone. Would the siblings forgive her? Or lose Elijah forever?

Warnings: Angst like a lot of it, Angry Mikaelsons. Loss of a unborn child, Violence, Y/N being a badass

A/N: I noted that I kinda made this part every long too. So it makes me wonder do guys like it when I do long parts when doing series? Let me know ☺

Elijah and Klaus kept Hayley close as they walked though the Ninth ward and they couldn't help but notice it was quite. Then they heard screaming and smelled burning of wood and they went to see what was happening with the witches as they hadn't done a trial in so long.

"They are doing a witch trial." Rebekah whispered as they watched witches dragging out another witch that crying and Hayley knew who the witch as she was the one that did the spell that rewrote the soul string.

"Please, don't do this! Please, I beg of the Ancestors! I don't want to die!" The witch shouted as they tied the sobbing witch to a stake. And Elijah held Hayley back from rushing forward to try and save the witch.

"Hayley, we not stop this. Davina is Regent and we agreed to not enter witches affairs."

"Regent, her rights?"

"Annilse for rewriting soul strings and going against the Ancestors. Your punishment is death as you have brought danger to all Nine covens. Your last words?" Davina asked holding up a torch of fire as the witch swallowed her sobs and decided if she was going down she was taking Hayley with her.

"Yes, my Regent. Hayley Marshall, Queen and Alpha of Crescent wolf pack had me do the spell for her own personal gain! The Original soulmate is a witch!" The witch cried out shocking the witches and they whispered among themselves as Elijah let Hayley go. A heartbreak settled over the siblings as Hayley looked at them teary eyed the sound of a burning witch echoed out and the thought of this witch dying because of Hayley hit the siblings with guilt at slowly crawled up their backs.

"She is lying."

"Hayley, we have lived long enough to know that one on their death bed has no reason to lie. Once we find our mother you will explain yourself." Elijah said rather coldly walking pass the female hybrid as the others glared at her following Elijah.

At the Abattoir Freya was helping Y/N with spell to find out what was wrong with her soul strings as both were getting along. Freya found the young witch adorable believe she was a good fit for Finn as they bonded over her possible niece or nephew that Y/N carried.

"It seems my soul string to Finn is pure but it is also saying the other four."

"Impossible, Hayley is their soulmate." Freya said frowning looking over Y/N's shoulder looking at the paper seeing the names of her siblings written our elegantly.

"I knew something was wrong but this magic is to much for me to reverse." Y/N said as Freya smiled taking her hand.

"Don't worry I'll fix it for you, dear Y/N."

"NIKLAUS! Come out a face, you mistake of a man!" Y/N and Freya heard Mikael yell as the witches looked at one another before headed out to the catwalk seeing the vampire standing there. Mikael looked up seeing the witches smirking at them which made Y/N shiver at his dark look.

"Ah my traitorous daughter and the tainted soulmate. Niklaus left you both unprotected."

"I am not a traitor for protecting my siblings from you father. I don't need Nik to protect us." Freya said glaring at her father as Y/N swallowed watching Freya use her magic against Mikael. It was a bloody fight with Freya drawing the most blood from Mikael as Y/N watched Freya fall feeling drained.

"Y/N run!" Freya shouted as the witch didn't need to be told twice and took off running with Mikael close behind. Y/N yelped feeling Mikael grab her by the neck and the witch stabbed his side fighting back as much as she could.

"So the abomination is having another child? How much would it kill him to lose you both?" Mikael said having pinned Y/N to the floor as her heart raced unable to speak as the vampire had his hand around her thoat. Panic and fear filled Y/N feeling Mikael's hand on her abdomen making her struggle to get free when pain shot though her as she let out a pain fill scream and Freya trying to make her way to them both.

"Shame to lose something so lovely."

"Shame....you'll....be enslaved.....monster." Y/N coughed up blood and before Mikael could kill her. The witch smashed a small bottle against the vampire's head and said a quick spell under her breath as Mikael fell over unconscious then rolled over whimpering curling into herself trying to stop the bleeding.

"I can't believe you!" Rebekah growled angrily as they entered the Abattoir unable to find Esther and Hayley was about to apologize again but Elijah stopped her seeing Freya up on the catwalk hurt. The scent of blood hit their noses as Elijah bit into his wrist to heal Freya.

"Y/N......father.....witch room." Freya rasped out before letting Elijah heal her while both Finn and Klaus rushed to the room seeing the two. Mikael was still unconscious as Y/N was curled in a ball crying and Finn went went to his soulmate while Klaus went to Mikael.

"Darling, shhhhh I'm here here now."

"I'm sorry.....I tried." Y/N whimpered burying her face in Finn's neck as both him and Klaus couldn't hear the second heartbeat and realized what she meant.

"Get her clean up brother. I'll take care of this."

A moments later with everyone cleaned up and Freya explained what happened and what she heard. Y/N had her abdomen wrapped with bandage and dressed in one of Finn's shirts as she walked into the den and the rest of Mikaelson was taken back seeing her with a fire in her gorgeous eyes when she walked in.

Mikael stood growling angry at the witch that got of him and surprised to see his second oldest following behind her then moved to attacked the witch to try to use her to get out before anyone could stop him.

"Kneel!" Y/N commanded glaring at the vampire as right away Mikael fell onto one knee shocking the others. Y/N stood in front of Mikael with fiery eyes as to the siblings it was the look of a Queen and to Klaus this was the woman he could see hisself waging a war for.....his true Queen.

"What have you done, witch?"

"My grandmother's old command spell. It only works on vampires and as long as I have this mark," Y/N raised her hand showing what looked like a tattoo of a chain attached to a moon as the same mark was on Mikael's hand, "you cannot hurt me and follow every order I give."

"My my spoken like a true Queen there, love." Klaus says smirking walking behind her placing his hands on her shoulders leaning close to her ear looking at Mikael with a glint in his blue eyes. Klaus was enjoying this a little too much as the others stood by watching.

"Now what does the Queen wish to do?"

"Tell him the truth about the baby." Y/N's words made Klaus smirk darkly looking at Mikael before letting Finn help her sit down and now Mikael was confused as Finn fuzzed over the small witch.

"Well dear father, the baby belonged to Finn here. As it appears that real soulmates are able to have children with vampires." Klaus said still smirking as Mikael look at an angry Finn with a apologetic look on his face as Elijah stepped behind their father snapping his neck letting the body fall.

"He'll come in handy to find mother. Now Hayley what poor dear Annilse said before her death." Klaus said looking at the female hybrid as Freya and Y/N looked confused.

"What is going on?"

"Hayley here had a witch rewrite our soul strings because she wanted Elijah." Kol said as the witches looked at Hayley who looked away ashamed and Y/N stood up teary eyed.

"You took everything from me just so you could have something that wasn't yours?"

"I loved Elijah away before you did! I deserved him no......" Hayley was cut off by Y/N slapping her shocking everyone. Hot tears fell freely down Y/N's face as she glared at Hayley who was holding her cheek. The soul strings that connected the witch to the siblings sparked with color was stronger this time but died out.

"I lost my baby! Finn lost a chance to be a father all because of you! You took everything away from them all because you weren't happy! And I hope you fucking burn." Y/N said leaving the den with Finn following after to comfort her.

"You got an innocent witch killed and my brother lost his child because you loved Elijah? How dare you, Hayley." Freya said walking out to check on Y/N leaving the female hybrid with the other four Mikaelsons. Elijah couldn't look at Hayley as his heart ached and blamed hisself for it all even though it really wasn't his fault and Rebekah covered her mouth as her own tears wetting her cheeks as Kol sat next to her comforting her.

"I'm sorry, if I know this would hap...."

"You wouldn't have done it? If you truly loved Elijah, you would have let him happy like he had done when you married Jackson." Klaus said watching Elijah leave then followed after because he knew guilt was eating away at his brother. Both Rebekah and Kol left also leaving Hayley alone as Mikael wike having heard everything.

"I may be a monster but I wouldn't have never hurt any of my children the way you have hurt Elijah."

Elijah stood in the doorway seeing Y/N laying in bed and swallowing his fear the Original walked inside and sat on the edge of the bed his back to her. Elijah was unable to look at her as his guilt ate away at him. The vampire jumped feeling the witch grab his hand and looked seeing that she laced their fingers together.

"Please don't blame yourself."

"I'm sorry.... I can't help it. I keep wondering if I had just kept my distance from her....to wait for you. Maybe you wouldn't be hurting." Elijah said voice cracking from unshed tears as Y/N rolled onto her back shifting to hold Elijah feeling tears hit her shoulder making her heart break hearing Elijah cry silently into her neck.

"Shhh Eli, I don't blame you." Y/N whispered rubbing his back seeing Finn standing in the doorway and watched him walk in. Finn placed a hand on his brother's back as he sat on the bed while Finn was taken back to when they were children how Elijah looked up to his big brother being comforted by the older Mikaelson when Mikael got to rough with the boy. Both Y/N and Finn calmed Elijah easing his blame away while Freya sat with Davina to undo the spell Hayley had done.

"I can't believe Hayley would do such a thing." Rebekah said huddled in Kol's arms as he was comforting his baby sister still angry that Hayley would do such a thing more so the price of the spell cost an innocent witch's life and Finn's unborn child all because the woman loved Elijah.

"The guilt Elijah will be carrying will crush him." Kol said softly feeling the bed dip with Klaus's weight as their older brother lay a comforting arm over the both.

"Both Finn and Y/N are easing his guilt away."

Morning sunlight shined into the bedroom waking Elijah feeling a body on him making him freeze then relaxed catching Y/N's scent as realized that Hayley wasn't in the bed. Y/N woke yawned and Finn woke also leaning over kissing the witch's head then ruffled Elijah's hair making the noble vampire smile at the familiarly.

"Morning boys." Y/N muttered sitting up with Elijah's help and she frowned feeling the knots in her hair realizing she hadn't wrapped her hair.

"Shower darling, Elijah will help you with your hair." Finn says helping her out of help bed as the sound of everyone moving around reached them. Elijah felt a twinge of familiarly as he did Y/N's hiar helping her put it up into two buns then Elijah helped her get dressed seeing her flinching due to her wound.

"Elijah." Hayley croaked out as the vampire paused seeing the hybrid in Y/N's doorway, Hayley looked a bit like a mess her eyes red and puffy from crying. Elijah looked away from Hayley, his heart squeezing in pain but felt Y/N rub his hand with her thumb.

"I'm going to see Freya and Davina." Y/N said softly leaving the room glaring at Hayley as she passed the hybrid. Hayley moved towards Elijah only for the Original to step back from her and pain flashed in Hayley's eyes looking up at Elijah.

"Elijah....I'm sorry....I didn't....."

"You didn't think this would happen? Hayley, you know more than anyone that all magic comes with a price " Elijah tells Hayley looking at her and Hayley saw the heart break on Elijah's face.

"I....just didn't think this was the price....Elijah, I just wanted you back."

"I'm sorry Hayley....I can't." Elijah says walking pass her not even looking at the woman as fresh tears fell down her face.

"So how do we undo the spell? Also why didn't affect Finn's soul string with Y/N?" Kol asked as everyone was in the room while the three witches stood by a bowl.

"Finn was dead when you met her so the spell couldn't undo their soul string as for undoing the spell. We need your blood then Y/N here to say the spell to unwritten it." Davina explained as everyone did as told then watched the ash gray strings burst with color. The siblings looked at Y/N as everything came back to them.

Rebekah was the first to move hugging Y/N who hugged back as Kol came up behind her hugging them both. Kol buried his face in her neck taking in the witch's scent. Once everyone settled down, they focus on looking for Esther. Mikael had his arms crossed watching his children working out what to do more so how Klaus wanted to make sure that the girls wouldn't get hurt.

"Can I help?" Hayley asked getting the sibling's attention before Klaus allowed her to join as Elijah was cold to her while talking about how to stop Esther. Hayley watched from outside of the gate as the siblings made sure that Y/N and Freya was going to be safe.

"I will be with them. I'll watch over them." Mikael said as the siblings looked at him then left with Hayley. In the den Y/N was writing out a spell in her grimoire as Mikael stood by as Freya stopped watching him.

"I wanted to apologize even though there is no way to undo what I have don. But I was told by Esther that you were the bast....Niklaus's soulmate but I am slowly learning that my anger is driving my children away." Mikael tells Y/N as she looked up at the older vampire seeing he was sincere.

"Thank you, Mikael." Y/N said softly as the vampire sat next to her and Freya smiled walking in with tea and the three enjoyed the quiet. There was a crash and Y/N didn't have to use her command seal as Mikael was quick to protect the witches. It was undead hybrids that Klaus had killed back in Mystic Falls as Y/N and Freya set up spells to help Mikael. When the siblings came home to see Mikael dragging dead bodies as Y/N and Freya was burning the bodies.

"What happen?!"

"Our mother sent your dead hybrids to kill us well more like father."

"You survived Mikael." Esther said glaring at her husband as Mikael glared back as the siblings saw how their father hid Y/N behind him.

"And you almost killed my children's soulmate."

"Since when did you care for the little wench?" Esther said glaring at Y/N believing the little witch stole Finn from her. Mikael growled ready to kill the Original witch when she suddenly fell and Klaus stood smirking.

"Enough of that. Shall we get mother's coffin Elijah?"

"We shall Niklaus." Elijah said smirking seeing the dagger in Esther's back. After placing Esther in a coffin and Freya placed many spells on it so it could never open they placed the coffin behind a brick wall and sealed it up.

"Shall we have a ball? I believe we deserve to celebrate." Klaus said smirking as his siblings chuckled agreeing with him before setting in the den feeling oddly comfortable around Mikael as they planned a ball.

#L.R writes #mikaelson x reader #mikaelson family x reader #Finn mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #rebekah mikaelson imagine

[yandere-sins]

i just binged-read all of your BNHA works and omg... 🥲 you don’t understand the rollercoaster of emotions i just went through! can i please request a story of Kirishima noticing that Bakugou has a crush on his darling. then when Kirishima confronts Bakugou about it, things get heated/physical? keep up the good work, i love your writings! 🥰💗

Thank you so much for reading through them, I am so glad you enjoyed them! :D And thanks for requesting ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

“I don’t fucking know either!”

Loud. Terribly loud were the two voices shouting at each other in your room, the little bit of safe haven you owned, entirely disrupted by the two men arguing. It was only made worse by the fact that they were arguing about you rather than anything else, their attention involuntarily always coming back to you after every sentence.

You had long ducked away, slipped into the area between the wall and your bed, the only place you had claimed as yours ever since you were forced to live here. It was barely spacious enough for you to breathe in, but it was too small to force you out of as well, which you always appreciated. On most days, Kirishima would treat you kindly and with a strange understanding despite the situation and relationship you two had.

But just as quickly did his mood change, his tendencies to demand more than you were willing to give being a constant point of stress between you two. Hiding yourself back here was the closest to some privacy you had, and now than ever, you just wanted to disappear from this pitiful existence. You didn’t even want to hear about what they were talking, let alone witness how the conversation would go.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned loudly, rubbing his hands over his face. “Of all the people...”

“Yes. Of all the people, it just had to be my partner you fell in love with,” Kirishima hissed back, equally angered. You couldn’t even pinpoint for how long the two had been discussing this topic, but it left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, as it seemed. Sighing quietly as to not draw more attention to you, you buried your head in your knees.

For the longest time, you had believed those two were good people. Sure, Bakugou was a hot-headed bastard sometimes, but together with Kirishima, who shone with his kindness, you three always had a lot of fun. When Kiri confessed to you, you had been so happy! What you thought was love probably was more like a deep friendship, but you didn’t say ‘no’ and went out with him.

But then the craziness started. It was subtle at first, and you confided in Bakugou, who told you, you were just imagining things. No one seemed to notice how Kirishima started to polarize your time constantly, how, when he wanted cuddles, he simply pulled you into an embrace even if you didn’t want to. How every problem was solved with ‘Just don’t go there anymore, you can stay here! I’ll take care of everything!’

You very quickly found out you had been wrong both with him being a good person and you being in love with him. But then, of all people, he still allowed Bakugou to come over! Where he kept you locked in his apartment all day while he played hero outside, he still allowed your friend to visit whenever. Seeing that Bakugou was not going to help you, no matter how much you pleaded with him to save you, broke your heart. It completely shattered you.

Honestly, you wanted to believe that you three had been friends once, but whatever happened to make the two into what they were now, it scared you. It frightened you so much that you barely slept at night, rarely managed to eat more than two spoons of your food, and rendered you unable to focus on anything if not ensuring you were safe when things got too much to bear. And now, your body shaking more than ever, you had to witness how even Bakugou seemed to have changed sides, and that scared you even more.

You thought he was just loyal to his friend by refusing to help you, but by god, he was the same as that maniac Kirishima.

“Look, I didn’t choose that either! But you knew I liked them way before you confessed!”

At that, Kirishima only clicked his tongue, unable to say anything in return to counter this claim. So it was right, Bakugou had liked you all along. All these things about Kirishima’s and your love life must have been so painful for him to listen to in this case. However, right then, as you overheard their conversation unwillingly, you didn’t feel bad for him even a second.

“I wish it was anyone else, but it’s them!”

“Well, are you sure?” Kirishima grumbled, and you kind of understood Bakugou’s frustration as his friend didn’t seem to want to hear the truth. “Yes, I am damn sure!”

“If that’s the case...” Kirishima sighed before you heard steps drawing closer. “[Name]? Can you come out? You know it’s rude not to show your cute face to our guest.”

Even if he spoke his words in a sugary voice, nothing about Kirishima could calm you. Slowly looking up at him again, you saw him reach his hand out to you, knowing fully well that he couldn’t get you out of that gap even if he probably wanted. The mood in the room was tense and full of heated tempers. Their back and forth had only made everything more awkward and uncomfortable as it already was for you.

Inwardly, you wanted nothing more than to stay in your hideout, hoping it would all quickly pass, but crossing Bakugou’s gaze briefly, you saw his brows only furrow more, and you wagered if taking Kirishima’s offer was better as long as he still asked nicely before either of them would lose their patience with you, too.

Slipping out of the space without taking his help, it wasn’t long before Kirishima picked you up anyway. The man had as much understanding about boundaries as you had about what even was wrong with him. He sat you down in his lap on the couch, waving Bakugou over, who reluctantly took a seat on the furthest armrest from you.

“Tell him, [Name]. You love me, right? You want to be with me, right?”

Opening your mouth, you wanted to protest, but Bakugou stole the words from you before you could talk.

“Bullshit! They’ve always been complaining because you suck at being a boyfriend! They could do so much better and be with me, right [Name]? Tell that idiot!”

You felt like a dog, with both owners screaming at their furbaby to chose them and go to the one it likes more.

Their back-and-forth continued, Kirishima swearing his love to you up and down while Bakugou praised his abilities to be better in... every way. Kirishima liked to remind you how much ‘fun’ you two had together and how much he did and would do for you in the future. Bakugou liked to argue with his friend, using insults and belittling comments about his plans. Neither made a very good impression, and their voices rose to a volume again, making you wish you had earplugs to drown out at least a little bit of their shouting.

Instead, you lifted your hands to your ears, cupping them as to drown out the sounds, hoping it was over soon. Why couldn’t they both leave you alone? Why did you have to end up in this situation, not once, but twice? Why did the two best friends you had turned out to be this crazy? Crazy about you?

There still were so many questions to be answered, and you curled into yourself as you spiraled down into overthinking everything that happened. From regrets you had, to disbelieve you still harbored, to the despair you felt as you couldn’t pinpoint when this nightmare would end.

You were so inside your own head, you didn’t notice how their voices slowly calmed down, their hearts breaking as they saw you so overwhelmed by the situation. Kirishima and Bakugou exchanged a few glances, and even in Bakugou’s serious and furious expression, there were hints of worries to find that only his friends could discern.

“How about you move in with us... and maybe they can make a decision then. Not that I’d just give them to you, but I can’t watch them being sad about us fighting. You always meant a lot to us.”

Huffing, Bakugou turned his head away, hiding the flustered red spreading on his cheeks. “I won’t share with you, you Dumbass! They’re mine. They love me much more than you freak!”

“Doubt it,” Kirishima chuckled as he brought his hand to your head, brushing over it comfortingly. He had never been afraid to say his opinion openly, a trait you had always found remarkable and remarkable stupid at the same time. “Whatever,” Bakugou grunted, standing up before storming out of the door without another word of goodbye, Kirishima sighing before he pulled you close.

“I hope this makes you happy,” he mumbled, not even knowing you weren’t listening anymore. “I’d do anything if it makes you happy.”

By the evening, a new roommate was sharing the apartment with you and Kirishima. They didn’t talk, neither at dinner nor before or after that. You didn’t mind the silence, but you did mind having to hold one hand of each as they decided to watch a movie, ever so often squeezing to gain your attention and giving you grins when you looked at them. As if that equaled making a decision which you liked better, just because they had a few seconds of your attention.

But even worse were the changes. The first thing Bakugou did was move the bed. Your hideout was no longer as he decided you didn’t need it. And where you had struggled to keep Kiri from you, you now were too scared to shove away Bakugou. Perhaps, you really had it nice with Kirishima. You pondered about it all night as you were squeezed between them, their arguing going deep into the early hours before they fell asleep, snoring away into your ears.

Would it have been easier if you had just chosen one of them?

Or would it be fatal to ever choose between them?

#Bakugou #Bakugou Katsuki #Kirishima #Kirishima Eijirou #bakugou bnha #kirishima bnha #yandere bakugou #yandere!bakugou #yandere kirishima #yandere!kirishima #BnHA #Boku no Hero Academia #MHA #My Hero Academia #yandere bnha #yandere!bnha #yandere mha #yandere!mha #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #Anonymous

[anika-ann]

Words Whispered in the Dark

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 6250🙈

Summary: There are things, intimate desires, which people simply don’t want to talk about out loud. Since you prefer writing those down, it applies twice as much. 

Steve supports your writing – but what he’d think about your newest story… well, you’re not sure you wanted to know.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, bondage, oral (M rec), consensual sensory deprivation, praise kink & body worship, ‘babygirl’, fingering, dom/sub undertones & implied age gap & professor-student dynamic & cumplay if you squint, language ---- (let me know if I missed any…why is the list so long wtf)

A/N: Can be read as a standalone. Part of the Attached ‘verse with professor!Steve.

A/N: For Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. Congratulations to the rightfully earned milestone ❤️ Thank you for hosting the challenge and kindly including even soft fics (even though I feel like my soft got lost in translation a bit).

Prompt: “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” - bold in the text, pls don’t @ me for the way I used it.

Stepping back into your and Steve’s shared bedroom and study room in one, you froze on spot, heart leaping to your throat.

You were lucky you didn’t drop your coffee and snack upon the sight of him, your fingers gripping the items tighter in surprise instead. But fuck, was it a close call.

Because few minutes ago, you moved to the kitchen to grab some refreshments for your brain. Relaxed air had settled over your tiny but loving household on a late Sunday morning; Steve was chilling on the bed, while you sat by your desk, laptop in your lap as your fingers danced over the keyboard, putting into words your latest… uhm, story. It was going great too and being able to steal glances at your gorgeous fiancé and muse in one person was a pleasant bonus.

Steve was, as sheepish as it sometimes made you, well-acquainted with your passion for writing, even rooting for you in his fully-supportive partner mode at all times. He read a few things of yours, both dirty and sweet ones, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. You weren’t hiding things from him, never had to; and damn, did it feel good for both of you.

So technically, you knew there was a chance you’d find him behind your desk, eyes skimming over your words since you left the computer opened, just like the document, but… well.

Nothing could prepare you for the sight on him actually doing it, shoulders tense, Adam’s apple bobbing, breathing shaky as his chest kept rising and falling irregularly.

Your own breath hitched at the sight, face feeling like set aflame, pulse hammering in your temples.

Oh no. Oh shit. This wasn’t happening--

Truth was, you really had no problem sharing your stories with Steve. But this one… well, fuck. You were so fucking screwed.

“Oh---oh honey,” you stuttered, the endearment you rarely used tasting foreign on your tongue. That was how out of it you were upon realizing what was happening here.

Steve was reading it. Steve was reading that thing. That shameless, entirely dubious thing that--- this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, really fucking bad—he hadn’t run for the hills before, no matter how filthy your stories got, but now he certainly would.

Steve’s head snapped to you at instant, cheeks flushed, eyes wide as he was caught red-handed.

“You- uh, you weren’t supposed to… see that,” you stuttered awkwardly, still unable to move an inch.

Maybe you should run for the hills just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath?

He didn’t react apart from spinning in the chair to face you, throat working again as his gaze trailed up and down your figure clad in a simple shirt and shorts, fluffy socks to keep your feet warm. Despite your plain outfit, his gaze burned with intensity and dare to say hunger, enough to stir heat in your belly.

Realizing this might be the last time you’d ever see him (okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but better safe than sorry), you let yourself to take him in as well, again, even if you knew every line of his body, every detail. The cut of his jaw, tendons in his throat tense as well as his shoulders, long fingers griping the armrests, legs slightly parted, accenting the unmistakable growing bulge between them.

Your heart skipped a startled and excited beat. Oh. Well. At least he liked what he read, you supposed, even if all bells in your head were ringing it alarm, because… that. That kind of story would be a little too much for him, you had thought.

Was it?

“Come here,” he whispered, voice hoarse as if he had just woken up, the same voice that caressed your ear as he rutted into you, in the lazy loving which so perfectly fit a morning like this.

Willing your feet to move, teeth sunk into your lower lip, your fluffy socks padded almost soundlessly against the floor as you obeyed his request.

He gestured for you to rid yourself of the items in your hands; once again, you obliged.

The second your hands were free, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a dirty kiss, fingers sinking into your hair to keep you exactly where he wanted you. Sighing in relief, you relaxed into his affection and he wasted no time licking into your mouth, his free hand gripping onto your shirt (his shirt) to drag you into his lap.

A hazardous position in an office chair, one might think. But you had a lot of practice with your favourite professor.

Sliding lower in the seat and pulling you up, Steve positioned you to his liking, drawing an appreciative hum from you as his erection rubbed deliciously against your core. You felt him smile into the kiss at the little sound you made, his fingers digging into your flesh in order to press you into him further, rutting against your quickly dampening centre.

Okay, who were you kidding. You had been writing down your filthy fantasy, you were already soaked, Steve’s movements and apparent enthusiasm just adding to the heat. A whine escaped your lips when he withdrew a fraction, giving you a chance to breathe, hand slipping under your shorts to fondle your lower cheek.

“Well, I did see it, sweetheart,” Steve said lowly, a little too short of breath for the teasing to work in his favour. Still, your stomach twisted in anticipation of what was to follow. “And I want it.”

Your eyes snapped open, your lips parting in awe, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You met his eyes, dark pupils having almost swallowed the blue of his irises, gaze intent to prove his point. Fuck. You could come right now if he kept you sitting exactly as you were and watching you like that.

It was one thing to see him react to your fantasy laid bare for him to see – voluntarily or not – but him admitting it out loud, well that was just a whole new fucking level.

Now the idea of that actually being doable was planted in our brain and your core clenched at the wistful image you had painted with your words.

It took you another minute of staring at each other to realize what exactly he was saying without explicitly voicing it.

“Wait, right now?” you blurted out breathlessly, a single nod and a kiss to the corner of your mouth your only answer.

Fuck. Shit. Okay.

“A-alright. Let’s do this then,” you stuttered, as thrilled as nervous.

You didn’t expect that – but you weren’t one to let the opportunity pass. You framed Steve’s face with your palms, his beard rough against your skin, and pressed your lips to his in a hurried kiss, eager to get him where you needed him before he changed his mind. Last grind of your hips, swallowing his content hum, you climbed from his lap to search for something that would hold.

“Bed. Now.”

Your fingers were shaking a bit under his intent gaze as they slipped under his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Steve was sitting on the bed now, legs parted enough for you to stand between them, watching our every move. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the way he was looking at you – so tender, with longing and yet with such lust.

It lit your nerves on fire in the worst and best ways and that was alright with you, as long as you’d get to keep him.

He smiled at you softly, a little quirk to his eyebrow when he caught you staring and not springing into action just yet.

“What is it, babygirl?”

His hands trailing up your waist made it harder to answer.

You sighed, feeling your earlier confidence wavering. “You’re just so fucking pretty, it’s unreal.”

His lips curled up in a smirk, but the light in his eyes gave away just how much the compliment meant for him. He pulled you closer, a breathy kiss landing on your clothed stomach.

“That coming from you… could look at you all day, you must already know that,” he murmured to your shirt, sending a sparkle of courage up your chest.

You ruffled his hair and pushed him away with a chuckle, mirroring his previous smirk.

“Well, you won’t, not this time,” you sing-sang cheekily, stepping over his thigh to kneel on the bed behind him, hearing his breath catch, his hand brushing your thigh as you danced out of his reach.

Placing the scarf over his forehead first, you felt your insides twist in anticipation, fingertips tingling. God, you were really doing this.

“You ready, Professor Rogers?” you hummed to his ear, marvelling at the effect the title had on him, always, as his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

“When you say it like that, babygirl? Yes, I am,” he grumbled, causing you to bit down on your lip.

Making sure you didn’t tie the knot too tight nor too loose, you moved the fabric so it would cover his eyes.

“Good?”

“Uh-huh,” was his wordless answer as you let your hands slid to his bare shoulders.

Steve was undoubtedly a specimen. He was every male-attracted person’s wet dream and you were the one getting your hands on him.  You thanked heaven and hell for it every day. The barely visible lines of his abs, toned chest… but Christ, it was his back that would be your downfall.

Allowing your hands to wander, your fingertips traced the hard lines of his deltoids, a featherlight touch making him shudder and your mouth to actually salivate. Dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades, you scooted closer so you were literally breathing down his neck, palms sprawled over his triceps, caressing his thick biceps, down his forearms and over his fists and all the way back up.

It was almost like a beginning of a massage, you supposed, but no one could blame you if you were enjoying the sensation on your palms a little too much. You didn’t get the opportunity to appreciate Steve’s physique like this often enough. So you indulged yourself a few more times, applying more pressure, dropping a kiss to the crook of his neck every once in a while. He winced at the accidental scrape of your nails up his forearm, causing you to halt in your movements.

“You still good?” you questioned quietly, genuinely worried for a second. You realized he had barely made a sound so far.

“You could say that, yeah,” he choked out you felt your lips curl up into a smile. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you took notice of the unmistakable hard outline on his sweatpants and gleefully resumed your movements, nibbling on his shoulder before soothing the skin with a gentle lick. “Babygirl…”

“Yeah?”

“You know what. Don’t test me,” he warned, only making you smile wider.

“Or what?”

He turned his head to side despite not being able to see you, giving you a perfect view of how tense was his jaw. Oh, you could imagine the stern look he wanted to scold you with.

“Or you’re not gonna like what’s to come when I put my hands on you,” he threatened, sighing exasperatedly when you replied with a barely audible ‘promise?’.

“In all seriousness though… what if you… uhm, couldn’t?” you asked reluctantly, not keen on sharing what you wanted… but wanting it really badly. You were sensing a pattern within yourself, seriously.

“I don’t follow---  oh,” escaped him soundlessly as your fingers attempted to wrap around his wrists and squeezed to give him a hint. “I don’t know about that, I mean-“

You felt your hear sink in disappointment, but you tried not to let it show, wondering how to try to convince him one more time. Sure, if it was a no-no, then you wouldn’t force him, he never forced you into anything either and this was about your mutual pleasure, but… now, having him partially at your mercy, the idea nudged insistently on your mind and the image of him with his hands tied above his head while you could do anything you pleased… you might have been soaking the shorts and the sheets at that.

“We don’t have to, Steve,” you assured him kindly, hundred percent honest despite planning on playing dirty. Your hands moved to his abdomen, caressing their way up his chest, accidently brushing over his left nipple, your lips moving to his ear. “But I’d be so good to you…”

“Babygirl,” he whispered, out of breath as your hand wandered down his happy trail, slipping just under the hem of his sweats, the fingers of your other hand moving to the neglected nipple, this time shamelessly toying with it.

“I’d be such a good girl for you, Professor Rogers,” you promised, keeping the smile off your voice when you heard him gulp, his cock visibly twitching. “I’d be really, really nice. Don’t you want that, Professor?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, okay-“

“Good choice,” you said approvingly, dropping a kiss to his cheek, making him groan and probably regret his decision already. You stood up, quickly looking for something you could use. “Just so you know, I think this is where the same rule applies,” you noted matter-of-factly. “You don’t like something I do, you want me to stop at any point, you tell me. I really want this to be good for you, Steve. So. What’s the word?”

From the front, you could see the blush that spread over his chest, causing you to bite your lip and nearly stumble over your feet. Good lord, Steve blindfolded, all flushed and waiting for you on the bed so you could do your worst--- now that was a sight to behold.

“Uhm… Waterloo?”

You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at his choice. It was cute and ridiculous... but also kinda hot, because well, Steve’s brains were just another turn-on for you. Of course he would choose something like that. Professor Steven Grant Rogers, history buff, certified hot nerd, the sweetest man to ever walk the Earth.

You pressed your lips together to prevent yourself from smiling too wide. You didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he could see you.

“Okay. Waterloo it is,” you said, swiftly moving to the closet when another idea popped in your head.

Slipping into a new outfit before heading back, you were rather satisfied with yourself as you grabbed the two ties you found prior. Not that it would actually hold him – it was about the idea.

“You’re taking a bit long, babygirl…”

“And? You mind?” you teased him, stopping to stand in front of him. “Have some… pressing issues?”

“Keep it up, babygirl, see what happens once this is over,” he bit back, only making you chuckle at the perfect pass.

“I think there’s something else that’s up--- sorry, sorry,“ you mumbled when his hand landed blindly on your thigh.

His brows furrowed when he felt the difference.

“You changed.”

“Uh-huh.”

His hand trailed up curiously, right under your miniskirt and you let him… just until air got stuck in his throat upon finding you with nothing but the generous amount of slick covering your core.

“Fuck-“

“Nope,” you replied cheekily, even if the flicker of his finger caused you to shudder, his touch like liquid fire at this point.

Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him right now and you wanted him to take you in every way he wanted… but the idea of him at your mercy was appealing enough for you to control yourself.

You grasped his wrist and shoved it away; he allowed it, but not without whining pitifully.

“Lie down, Steve, please. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You better,” he grunted, unwillingly moving up the bed, obediently spreading out on the sheets and letting you guide his arms up as you climbed over him and tied his wrists together.

“Not too tight?”

He shook his head, a smirk crossing over his lips. You rolled your eyes at the double meaning, but you guessed it served you right.

Oh, but would you wipe that smirk off…

Securing the knot, you shifted to be face to face with him, lips hovering just above his mouth, breathing the same air and hoping to begin the sweet torture.

You had to admire his patience; despite definitely noticing your positions, Steve didn’t move an inch. It was up to you then – and the premise sent another thrill through your veins. Oh, you’d break him in the most delicious ways.

As soon as you erased the distance, his lips sunk into yours hungrily, wet and soft in the contrast to his beard, the sensation you adored, having you squirming above him until you remembered again that you were the one in control.

You kissed him with vigour, licking into his mouth, one hand still where his were joined, the other pressing against his chest. Your tongue met his, revelling at his taste and at another of his tries to dominate the kiss, to set things as they usually were. But as much as you loved it when he took charge… not today.

Parting abruptly, his lips following on instinct, you couldn’t but grin to yourself. Kissed his fingertips, you lingered at the one still glistening with your juices. You took it to your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and sucking lightly, feeling Steve’s heart speed up under your palm like crazy.

When you lightly grazed the skin with your teeth, his groan and the way his hips thrusted upward was the best reward you could get.

Kissing a trail down his arm – because goddammit you loved his arms – you hummed to yourself contentedly whenever you could feel the slightest shift of his body under yours and greedy for more contact, you allowed yourself to put most of your weight fully on him.

The choked sound it elicited from him startled you at first – until you realized that with your skirt hiked up, you weren’t the only one enjoying the skin-on-skin contact, your slick coating Steve’s lower stomach just above his sweats. Hopefully it was giving him ideas – it was certainly was to you.

Rustle of fabric, ragged breaths, occasional smacking noise when you moved up or left a small hickey on his shoulder and above his collarbone. Your fingers toyed gently with his nipples as you kissed his sternum before replacing your hands with your mouth once more, sucking, drawing a quiet whimper from him.

Fuck couldn’t get enough of the noises he was making. The pretty breathless moans of your name, the curses slipping from his lips… it was like music, but on a desperately low volume.

“What is it you always tell me?” you teased, lamely covering for the fact that your own arousal was nearly uncontainable. Shit, you loved how sensitive his nipples were… how much more sensitive he must have been now, no visual, laser focused on every touch instead? You wanted more… so much more. “Don’t hold these pretty sounds from me?”

Steve gritted his teeth at the remark, but as soon as you positioned your heat directly over his hard length and rolled your hips, he sang for you beautifully.

“Shit, sweetheart-“

The rush of confidence, the feeling of power was almost overwhelming – the image of him, lips parted in mute pleasure, certainly was. You were a little too close to climbing your own peak a little too quickly to your liking.

Sitting up straight, you undulated your hips few times, hands tracing patterns over Steve’s rapidly rising chest and abs. Much to his obvious dislike, you all too soon slid lower, your mouth making its way down his abdomen and then you finally, finally rid him of his sweatpants and boxers in one go.

His cock sprang free, hard and red at the tip, leaking just enough to cause your mouth to water and your thighs to rub together to give yourself some of the friction you craved so much.

Hands planted on his hips, you kissed along his hip bones and the apex of his thighs, taking your sweet time exploring everything you could – except for where you suspected he wanted you the most. You had to grin for yourself when you cupped his balls, causing him to hiss in relief, the muscles of his abdomen and legs clenching beautifully.

“Talk to me, Steve,” you hummed as you replaced your hand with your tongue, licking a stripe towards his base.

“Christ- don’t stop--“

“Eloquent as always, Professor,” you retreated, causing him to let out a growly sound you never heard before and had your core tingle, cunt feeling awfully empty.

Christ was right, alright. Seeing his chest heaving, fingers twitching as if he wanted nothing but to tug at your hair to keep you there and stuff your mouth full of his cock---  if you didn’t get some soon, you might actually combust.

So you put your mouth back to work on his sack again, fingers barely curling around the base of his cock, giving a first experimental stroke before you squeezed a bit tighter – and then swiftly moved away, his hips following on instinct in, craving more.

“For fuck’s --- how did I ever think you were sweet and nice?” he complained huskily, impatience lacing his voice.

You chuckled, but heard him out, leaving his balls in order to give more attention to his impressive and possibly painfully hard length.

“Beats me,” you retorted, hands busy with gentle strokes to his shaft. “I mean, we literally got together thanks to you finding out I wrote about sucking and riding your dick right in your office, Professor Rogers.”

“You little-“

His protests died in his throat, features twisting in wordless pleasure when you finally wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, delivering a few kitten licks to the tip. His taste exploded on your tongue, eliciting a content hum which he certainly felt too, because a jerk of his hips pushed him deeper to your mouth.

Slowly swallowing as much as you could without having him hit the back of your throat, you curled your hand tighter around the base and started bobbing your head.  

A string of breathless profanities left his mouth whenever you squeezed, only getting filthier when you hollowed your cheeks. It was all encouragement you needed to take him deeper, giving him a taste of heaven as his tip brushed the back of your throat.

“Babygirl, fuck, fuck, yeah--- just like that…”

Your own arousal became unbearable, a surge of hot need squeezing your insides at Steve’s praise. Slipping a hand under your skirt, you sighed in relief when your fingers caressed your lower lips, hips bucking forward in desperate need of more.

Your predicament was impossible to solve – you wanted him inside you already, so badly, but fuck the picture Steve made, even if blurry as tears prickled your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, was just too divine.

Lips crimson with how he kept biting at them to keep at least a little quiet, hair sticking to his forehead, muscles drawn tight like strings as he kept clenching them both unwittingly and consciously in hope to get you where he wanted you and the fresh taste of him whenever you did something he particularly liked--- you simply had to feast your eyes on him. And he couldn’t do the same… or take charge for that matter.

So fucking pretty like this.

And you were the only one seeing him like that, tied up, helpless against the assault on his senses sans vision. He gave himself up to you like that, willingly. The thought warmed you up inside out, enough to drive you nearly as crazy as if you were in his place.

Wasting no time with preparation you didn’t need, you pushed two fingers into your core at once, whimpering around Steve’s cock when you did. Your whole body relaxed, the pent-up desire easing a little and yet burning hotter. You pumped your fingers slowly, the sensation so blissful you had to remind yourself to keep working on Steve too.

Still, your actions didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you—are you touching yourself, babygirl?” he whispered, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

It took you a second to swallow the baseless embarrassment and literally swallow, causing Steve to let out a moan so wrecked and pretty you felt your pussy clamp around your fingers.

Hoping your words would come out less shy than you felt when saying them, you released Steve’s length with a wet pop to tease him some more.

“Yeah, I am…. Why? You want a taste?” you asked sweetly, clearing your throat that suddenly felt so empty.

The guttural moan that erupted in Steve’s chest was music to your ears, his cock twitching and glistening with fresh beads of precum a sight to behold.

“Yeah, babygirl… give it to me,” he choked out and the genuine desire in his voice was like a punch to your solar plexus. Your walls clenched around your fingers, the familiar coil in your abdomen tightening.

Swallowing a pitiful sigh at the loss, you stretched over the warm length of Steve’s body, gulping when his own parted in invitation.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Reluctantly, you let the fingers sticky with your juices brush over Steve’s lips, gasping when his tongue instantly slid out to lick at the essence eagerly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Fuck, always so sweet, babygirl…” he muttered, your breath stuck in your throat when his mouth blindly chased after your fingers before you could withdraw your hand.

“Oh my god-“ you choked out, mesmerized, your pussy clamping around nothing.

He sucked greedily, the image alone causing your hips to rut against his, your clit catching against his rock-hard shaft. Your eyes fluttered close in bliss, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

Unwittingly, you worked your hips faster, riding Steve’s thick cock even without having him inside. The friction, the soaked fabric of your skirt brushing against your clit, the sensation of Steve’s tongue lapping at your fingers as if he had his mouth on your pussy instead--- you felt the coil in your belly snap, the world turning white before you knew how.

You came with a broken cry, blissed out and shocked at the sudden release, but riding your pleasure out on instinct.

Grazing your fingers with his teeth as he let go, Steve spoke words so filthy our head spun.

“That’s it, babygirl. Fuck. Look how little my girl needed to come all over my cock. Using me so shamelessly.  You must have really wanted it, didn’t you…” he said, voice hoarse with a tint of smugness as you came back from your high, the dirty talk only already riling you up again.

You had no idea what just happened, but you had a feeling Steve immensely enjoyed it as he somehow got the upper hand on you despite being the one tied up.

For someone who was supposed to have all blood out of his brain and have it in his dick instead, he was way too smug… but you’d reverse it again. He had no idea what was about to hit him.

Stealing a kiss to taste ourself on his tongue, your fingers went to remove the blindfold.

Your professor was, in certain aspects, still just a simple guy – he liked a good visual. It was silly of you to rid him of it in the first place, no matter how much fun you had with it.

Steve blinked in surprise, squinting against the sudden light, while you slipped out of your bralette, leaving you in nothing but your very schoolgirl-like mini skirt. You smiled at him sweetly, kissing his mouth once more, thumb softly brushing his lips as you towered over him, nearly giving him a view of what was under the fabric.

“I always want you,” you whispered with a smile, your hand cupping your breast, gently tweaking your nipple, his gaze following the movement as his fingers twitched. You bit the inside of your cheek, hand slowly trailing down. “Want you to touch me, everywhere. Always so wet and ready for you…”

Dark eyes watched you as you slipped your fingers under the waist of the skirt, a tiny mewl escaping you when the pad of your fingers bumped into your clit.

You would have felt stupid trying to give him a show after you came after almost nothing, but the warning growl of your name once again assured you that unsexy was the last thing that came to Steve’s mind when looking at you. It warmed both your belly and your heart. You almost felt regretful for a moment that you were still keeping him hanging, neglecting his no doubt aching cock, but he thought he had the upper hand here.

He was wrong.

“Always thinking of you… even when I’m alone, always thinking about your fingers, stretching me so good, about you fucking me, so hard till I’m screaming your name,” you continued in hushed voice, revelling at how tight his jaw set, eyes narrowed, breathing once again picking up.

“Babygirl—”

“Oops, sorry,” you chipped, pecking his lips as you withdrew your hand, quickly drawing a trail of kisses down his chest and abdomen, unable to resist a lick here and there where the line of his muscles looked particularly tasty. “Just thought you’d like to see my mouth on you. You like to watch, Professor Rogers, no?”

He never got a chance to answer as you guided him to your mouth again, holding his gaze as he indeed watched, eyebrows furrowing, each breath hitching, soon chanting your name. You caressed his balls as well, tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his length, your other hand firmly around his base.

You were the first to avert his gaze as your eyes fluttered close so you could fully focus on your task, relaxing your throat.

“Babygirl--- fuck me-- I’m gonna-“

You eased up a bit, earning a frustrated growl, the corners of your lips rising a bit as you imagined the ugly glare he must have shot you.

Thinking about it, closing your eyes was a mistake.

You never saw it coming as a hand suddenly sunk into your hair, yanking you up face to face with him, alarmed eyes staring into black ones as his pupils nearly swallowed all the blue or his irises.

He had slipped out of the poorly tied bonds, clearly fed up with your shenanigans.

Ah-oh, sounded in the back of your mind.

Another part of you didn’t fail to notice that despite the swift movement and calling an end to your games, Steve’s fingers were careful not to pull too harshly, making sure he was cradling your head safely. Same when he rolled you over, trapping you under the hard lines of muscle you had been tasting a moment ago, protective cage of his arms around your head.

If you weren’t so startled, you would have swooned.

You never got the chance, because any possible sound was muffled by his mouth crashing into yours, hand slipping from your nape to your throat to keep you in place with a wordless warning, hips pressed to yours just in case you would want to escape.

You would never. Even if you had a hunch Steve was about to ruin you in a way that would have you feel it for days.

Having enough of your mouth for the moment, giving you a chance to gasp for air, he stared at you smugly, one corner of his perfectly red lips raised in a smirk.

“Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” he grunted, thumb caressing the hollow of your throat softly, causing you to gulp.

You summoned your best innocent look, doe-like eyes that usually worked. “S-sorry?”

A flicker of a smile as he forced his knee between your thighs, instantly pressing against your still sensitive core.

“I don’t think you are, babygirl,” he huffed, nosing the crook of your neck, biting down sharper than you expected, a yelp erupting from your throat. He soothed in with the pad of his thumb, smiling wide, something soft in his eyes when he looked at you again. You were so fucking baffled at what that meant. ”That perfect filthy mind of yours… and you still get a bit shy, huh?”

“W-what?”

“You know what I think, babygirl?” he whispered intimately, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I think that you left the document opened on purpose.”

Your rapidly beating heart stopped in your chest, wind knocked out of you completely.

Fuck.

You were so busted.

Steve had read you like a book wide open--- because of course he did.

Yes, there had been a great part of you who wished for him to see it, hoping in this exact outcome; there had been an equally great part dreading what he would think about you. Writing the story down, you were thinking a bit more with your pussy than your brain though, so you decided to leave it for Steve to read. If he went for it, maybe you’d get something from it. If he didn’t, you’d move on. No harm no fool, right?

Right. No.

Now he did know and saw right through your little trick. And damn, did he look proud of himself for figuring it out. You were in so much trouble.

Somehow, you were as horrified as excited.

Steve chuckled as you swallowed against your suddenly dry throat, eyes no doubt wide as saucers.

“Oh, you did. Too shy to ask for it, leaving that to me instead. My sneaky, needy girl,” he muttered, fondness and humour with a dark lilt in his voice.

“I—I didn’t know how-“ you stuttered, feeling your face burning in embarrassment at his tone, just a smidge patronizing.

You averted his gaze, a vain attempt really, knowing he wouldn’t let you. Slipping two fingers under your chin, he guided you to face him again.

“Didn’t know how… hmm… so you thought you’d play me? That’s really naughty, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry… Professor Rogers,” you added quickly in hopes to mollify him, indeed earning a sweet kiss.

“Oh, it’s okay, babygirl. You know why?” he tested you and you could only shake your head lightly, guessing at best what kind of revenge awaited you. “Because you’re my good girl and you’ll let me settle the score. I’ll play with you now. It’s only fair, no?”

Oh fuck, here it came.

For a brief second, his lust-filled eyes appeared startingly clear and sober, boring into yours with a serious question.

It’s only fair, no? he had said.

It’s alright with you if the roles reverse, right? was what he was truly asking, checking, always checking if you were okay, just like you had been checking with him.

Because sex was fun, but only if all parties were on board.

Because Steve was sweet, considerate, soft and loving and he was everything you ever looked for in a man and more. You trusted him. You always did and you trusted him now – he would make you feel so so good. It was never really a question.

“Y—yes, it is.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, causing your core to weep. And he knew it, oh did he know and shamelessly used it against you... a little payback to all the professor you’d been throwing around. “Close your eyes.”

And you did. The blindfold came first, then hands, his fingers skimming over your forearms teasingly, feather-light touch on your sensitive skin, before he finally brought them up and tied them together.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

No, you were absolutely not ready, but your body was buzzing with desire again at that point, so you breathed a soft yes. And maybe, just maybe… no matter how you had enjoyed driving him crazy, cheeky and full of feeling of power, this felt like home. Because you trusted him – and so you gave yourself to him wholly.

He hummed in contentment as you confirmed, causing you shiver as he nosed the skin under your ear. “Good. Because I’m going to wreck you for that little stunt of yours.”

His words tickled the sensitive skin and shit, okay, your nerve endings were tingling, the sensation amplified tenfold with your eyes covered. Steve really was going to wreck you.

Mouth moving to your breast, he took the nipple in his mouth, shifting so the head of his cock nudged at your weeping opening, pushing just a bit with a promise of a delicious stretch, almost, almost there.

“Please,” was all you managed to breathe out, growing impatient, hissing when gave a playful bite to the underside of your breast, sending a surge of arousal through your veins. You back arched, a mewl escaping your when Steve moved his hips away completely, denying you.

“And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?” he muttered to your skin, lips trailing lower and lower, warm and soft, beard leaving behind a delicious burn.

“Y- yes.”

“Good girl. And what else are you going to do? Tell me,” he encouraged you, large palms pushing your thighs apart so he could fit the insanely broad shoulders between them.

Mind foggy with need, senses overwhelmed, you still had enough wits to understand what he wanted to hear.

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

“Damn straight.” His words were a damp hot blow of air against your mound, causing your hips to jolt as if your body was begging to be taken apart by him already – blissfully aware of how he would put it back together again.

And with an inevitable scratch to your lower lips and a kitten lick to your swollen bud for starters, Steve did.

Attached masterlist

S.R. masterlist

I sincerely apologize for twisting the prompt and not even being able to write a soft enough fic the one time I’m supposed to.

But I hope you enjoyed anyway.  I mean, if you made it to the end…

Thank you for reading :-*

Your Anika I’m-Not-a-Smut-Writer Ann

P.S. Fic loosely relates to one of the reblogs of this series: “You know one good thing about being an erotic writer is - you don’t have to talk about your embarrassing kinks. You want to tie your boyfriend up? You just email him a story about it 'subtly’ hinting at it.” Close enough?

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #professor steve rogers #LEMONS #mind the warnings #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america au #college au #modern au #wrong attachment au #captain america #captain america x you #captain america x reader #attached #words whispered in the dark #anika ann

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 9:

As it turns out, being told there’s an imminent threat on your life, does not lend itself to a relaxing day at work. No, what it lends itself to, is a day of looking over your shoulder, of flipping the lights on in every room- of creeping quietly around furniture, trying to get the jump on whoever is hiding behind it. 

Except, there’s never anyone behind it. There’s never anyone behind anything, and all you have to show for it is a heart beating far too fast. All you have is a ribcage, strung together with dental floss, little bits of string pulled much too far and much too tight. What’s left is a person one surprise from a panic attack, and one loud noise away from a mental breakdown.

It’s the weirdest anxiety you’ve ever felt; a dripping, acrid, paranoia lining your bones with electricity and your muscles with shock. The strangest part of all though? The way you’re counting the minutes. Watching the seconds pass by with each moment, trying to be patient until you could see Bakugou of all people. 

You’re not sure when you started to associate him with safety, but it’s almost a lost cause at this point. His attitude was pretty much irrelevant to the issue, and even if he wasn’t very soft or reassuring, you know he’d rather die than let you get taken. His ego just wouldn’t allow it, and for some odd reason, you think that’s the most comforting part of all.

You walk out the backdoor, dragging your feet and hardly even jumping in surprise when you see him. Bakugou is leaning against the back wall of the alley, disinterest coloring his face. He’s in his hero gear, but thankfully he’s got his mask in his hands- being unable to fully see his eyes made him much harder to read.

“No bruises, scrapes? Blood?” You ask, looking him up and down twice over. You can’t help yourself as you near, eyes squinting as you study him closely. “No injuries, right?”

“No- ‘m fuckin’ fine. Stop fussing, woman.”

You see the red on his cheeks, just barely for a second, before he’s quickly sliding the mask onto his face. So much for seeing his eyes, then- apparently he wanted to keep you guessing all night. Not that you wouldn’t have been anyway. 

"I'm not- actually, yeah, sorry. Maybe I was fussing a little bit." You laugh under you breath, taking a step back. "It's not my fault though, alright? Usually I only see you when you’re exhausted or bleeding out."

"Yeah, because bein' around ya is fuckin' torture, leech. Why the hell would I see you if I didn't have to?"

You turn, balking at him. Under the glow of the streetlamp, something sly and mischievous lines his smile. You watch him glow for a moment, yellow streetlamp luminescence casting his pale skin in shades of glimmering gold. He’s almost unrecognizable like that, unable to help himself when he shakes his head. 

“I told you, leech.” He laughs. “You’re too easy.”

“No- you’re an asshole. You know that? You have to know that, don’t you?”

“I know.”

“And, what, you’re proud of that?”

He just shrugs, kicking off the wall and brushing past you. His shoulder knocks into yours, and you feel a little unsteady at the impact. Bakugou laughs. Then he picks up speed, walking briskly towards the end of the alley, looking behind him to make sure that you’re following. 

“That’s not an answer, you know.” You say, rolling your eyes. “Not even a little bit of an answer.” 

“Who the fuck said I gotta answer all your questions, hah?” He replies, petulance coloring his words. He turns back to look at you, snapping his fingers to urge you on. “Now c’mon. Faster. Pick up the goddamn pace.”

“Jeez, you’re pushy tonight.”

Bakugou doesn’t answer you, just leading you out of the alley, and into the street. He slows suddenly, falling behind you with watchful eyes scanning every shadow. There’s no one out that night, there almost never is at that time, but Bakugou still seems keen on keeping up his vigilance. Turning back to look at him, you’re almost shocked by the concentration on his face.

It’s a look you’re not especially used to seeing on him. You’d never realized how much time he spent just messing with you, but the foreignness of his expression made that apparent. In that moment, all you can wonder is why villians even bothered in the first place- it was obvious they weren’t going to get away with anything under his watch. Not at least if Bakugou’s fists had something to say about it. 

“You look pretty guard-dog-like back there.” You comment with a coy smile. “Super scary.”

“Shut up.”

 “Mhm, that’s what you always say isn’t it.”

 “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing.” You say lightly, spinning to look at him for a moment. He’s confused, head tilted slightly to the side. He looks like a dog all over again and you have to hold back a giggle. “Just means you’re short with me all the time. Well- when you’re not being mean that is.” 

“You pickin’ a fight?”

“No. No. I’m not.” You laugh. “I almost never am, or at least not intentionally. You always think so though.” 

Bakugou speeds up then, his strides matching yours. He’s close then, way closer to you than he’d usually walk. You’re not particularly curious about it, but you’re sure that if you reached out, just barely extended your fingers, you’d brush right up against those giant gauntlets of his. And probably get those same fingers blasted right off- but that’s neither here nor there. 

“You look tired.” He gruffs, changing the subject suddenly. He’s looking away, eyes trained down every dark alley you pass. “You somehow sleep worse than me or somethin’?” 

“No. Just lots of people coming in and out today. Lots of patients to see.” 

“Mhm.” He nods. “Any weird injuries?”

“No? Why?”

He just looks at you then, eyes squinting slightly.

“Oh. Those villians you can’t tell me about. I get it.” You say, and Bakugou nods. “But no. Not that I saw- sorry. Strange influx of elderly people, though. But that’s probably just a coincidence. Probably unrelated.”

“It is.”

“Huh? How would you know?”

“Just do.”

You roll your eyes, huffing. “You suck at explaining things, you know- just like, the worst conversationalist.”

He shrugs again, and at the movement you feel the edge of his gauntlets against your arm. The metal is cold, even through the thin material of your jacket, and you shiver.

“Damn, you really that fuckin’ scared of ‘em?” He scoffs, looking at you a little weirdly. “Chill the hell out, leech. ‘m not after you.” 

“No- it’s not- I’m not scared of them. Well, I am, but not of you. Or them.” You rub at your arms, trying to avoid accidentally elbowing him as he walks next to you. “The metal was just cold. Didn’t expect it, is all.” 

He nods, grunting something under his breath. Then he’s side-eyeing you. For way too long to be normal, even for ordinary person standards. Hardly another breath passes before he smirks, jostling his shoulders and pressing the gauntlet directly into your arm. It hits against your jacket, flooding ice through the material and into your skin.

“It’s cold!” You squeal in surprise, almost stumbling as you pull away. You take another step to the side, just to increase the distance between you and him- just to be safe. “I literally just said that! You’re a dick.” 

Bakugou just smothers his laugh in his shoulder. 

“No! Don’t laugh- what you think this is funny? Huh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, trying to get you with the gauntlets once more. You flinch away, which just makes him laugh more. “I do actually.”

“It’s not! It’s cold out, you asshole! Don’t make it any worse!”

He just laughs at you, eyes crinkling around the edges. Bakugou doesn’t laugh much, not around you at least, but now you’re sort of wishing he did. His eyes look a lot brighter when he laughs. Happier.

“Okay, okay, chill out already.” He smirks, shushing you like a child. “Won’t happen again.”

“You sound like you’re lying.”

“Nah. ‘m not.”

“I don’t trust you.” You counter, eyeing him with suspicion. “Not at all.”

He just shrugs, like your answer doesn’t surprise him, nor does it make any sort of difference. You suppose that’s about right. Bakugou pretty much only cared about pushing your buttons- making you feel comfortable wasn’t even a thought in his mind.

“You’re such a baby.” He comments, eyes scanning down another dark alley. “Seriously. ‘s not even that fuckin’ cold outside.”

“Says you.”

“I’m right.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“You’re absolutely not.” Drawing your jacket tighter, you fight the shiver that threatens to crawl up your spine. “You know, for a guy who gets so mad about me “picking fights” all the time, you sure do like to argue a lot. You sure you’re not actually the one picking fights?”

“I don’t gotta pick ‘em, I just finish them.”

There’s no way- there’s no way in hell a fully grown hero, a pro hero just opened his mouth and said that to you. It’s inconcievable, or, it should be, but then you look at Bakugou and the absolute sincerity of his expression.

“You’re a barbarian.” You can’t help but laugh, pinching the bridge of your nose with faux annoyance. “Seriously. I just gagged on all the testosterone in that sentence.” 

“So? ‘s not my fuckin’ problem.” 

“It is. It definitely is.” You tell him, hardly restraining your urge to knock him right off the curb. 

From where he is, walking on the outside of the sidewalk and closest to the road, all it would take is a little nudge- he’s walking so very close to the edge.  But knowing him, Bakugou would probably take you with him. So you refrain, changing the subject instead.

 “So, you see any bad guys yet?”

“Bad guys?” He snorts, eyeing you like you’re stupid. “No. I haven’t seen any villains, yet.” 

“Good, just checking. I don’t actually know what I’d do if you did.”

“You don’t do shit. You stay the hell out of it.”

“Okay, but what if you-”

“No. You run the other direction and go fuckin’ hide. That’s what you do.” He orders, seriousness lining his features. “Don’t go tryin’ anything. You’ll only get in the way, leech.”

A part of you bristles all over at that- at his insistence that you’d be nothing but useless weight in a fight. It makes you uncomfortable because as it stands, he’s right. You’d never be able to hold your own, much less defeat anyone.

You felt weak. Vulnerable.

“Don’t be a goddamn baby. I can see you panicking.” He says, kicking at a rock on the sidewalk. “I told you- ‘m not plannin’ to let any of those fuckers get you. ‘s a hypothetical, so don’t go cryin’ over shit that hasn’t even happened yet.”

“It’s not that.”

“Fuck is it then?”

“It’s just- I was thinking, you know, about what I’d do in a fight.” You start, rubbing at your elbow mindlessly. “And you’re right. I’d be entirely useless. I can’t hurt anybody. I don’t think I ever would, even if I had the skills to.”

You hardly see it from the corner of your vision, but Bakugou scrunches his nose. Your words must’ve upset him because then he’s huffing like a bull, curling his fingers closed into a fist.

“Don’t say it like it’s a fuckin’ bad thing. Don’t be an idiot.” He mutters lowly, voice pinched and tight. There’s a flush on his cheeks, just barely visible in the dark. “People getting fuckin’ hurt is never a good thing.”

“No, it’s not. I guess you’re right. But, still, I guess what I’m saying is I wish I was a little less soft, you know? Stronger.”

He cuts his eyes toward you, something guarded lining them. You can hardly tell, and you wish he’d take his mask off, but Bakugou almost looks..... offended?

“Bein’ soft doesn’t mean you’re fuckin’ weak.”

“You’ve literally called me weak before!” 

“Yeah- when you were playin’ all fuckin’ nice when you didn’t mean it.” He flares his nostrils. “That’s weak.” 

“Oh, so you’re saying- actually, no, I have no idea what point you’re trying to get at right now.”

“Jesus, you’re stupid.” He mutters on his breath. “I’m saying, don’t do shit just because you think you have to. That’s stupid. That’s weak.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t fight anybody?”

“Do you want to fight anybody?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then why the hell are we even fuckin’ talking about this?” He asks, simple and plain like it never even mattered to him in the first place. “If you don’t want to fight then don’t fight. It’s that fuckin’ easy.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts.” He says, finality lacing his tone. “Besides, it’s not gonna fuckin’ matter anyway. I’ll skin ‘em before they even get anywhere near you.”

Bakugou seems to realize his words- and the weight behind them at the same time you do. Where you’re blushing and looking away, he’s straightening in place next to you. His spine goes ramrod, feet stuttering like the pavement is shooting electric shocks through his heels. 

“That’s- I think that’s the only sort of nice thing you’ve ever said to me.” You utter out, entirely shocked. Then you’re slapping a hand against your mouth, breathing a gasp out between the gaps in your fingers. “That’s- that’s the only nice thing I get? A threat against somebody else? That’s ridiculous!”  

You can’t help the giggle that tumbles out of your mouth then, something small and tiny quickly growing louder. It makes you feel light- weightless on the street, like the pavement below you is bolstering you higher with each step. When you look over, Bakugou’s not laughing, but he’s smiling, something pinched and shy as he looks back at you. A he stares at you, blinking slowly, tipping his head to the side like he doesn’t understand.

“It’s- I’m sorry.” You laugh, biting down on your lip. “It’s just so funny! You being nice isn’t even you being nice- it’s just you being mean to somebody else for once!” 

“If this is what you’re like when I’m fuckin’ nice, then I’ll never be nice to you again.” 

“Don’t grumble.” You smile, trying to cover your smile with an errant palm. “Even if I’m laughing, I’m not necassarily laughing at you, you know? I guess what I”m saying is that it helps with the panic- to know that somebody capable is looking out for me, you know?”

“Yeah, I bet.”

His tone leaves something sour, sarcasm and cynicism left behind on his breath. You look over at him, but his eyes are trained forward, shooting between every dark crevice and shadow. He’s relentless, shoulders constantly drawn forward, stalking and prowling like he’s just waiting for somebody to challenge him.

It makes you wonder who’s looking out for him. If anybody even is- or, more specifically, if he is letting anyone.

“Hey, Bakugou?” You ask suddenly. 

“What?”

“I appreciate it, you know. This. You walking me home.” You find yourself unable to hold his intense gaze any longer. Eyes trained at the ground, you continue. “I know you didn’t have to, and even if it’s not for me, it still makes me feel a lot better. Less scared. So thank you.” 

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t really even react other than straightening a little beside you. It makes you want to take the words back, to fluster, make excuses maybe- but you don’t. You steel yourself and you don’t apologize because you meant it. Meant every word.

“Jesus, you really are soft, huh.” He mutters quietly, voice hardly carrying through the cold air. “Really fuckin’ soft.”

“Yeah. I am.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but he does walk a little closer. From where he is, right up next to you, Bakugou looks a lot different. It might just be the low light, but you could’ve sworn he was all soft angles then; all smooth skin covering a gently sloping nose, delicate lips curled up into the smallest of smiles. You think he’s beautiful then- like somehow, all of his blistering strength had gone molten instead of igniting. 

There’s not much left to say, and you’re out of jokes, so the rest of your walk is spent in silence. It’s a weird kind of quiet, something that sits heavy in your chest, warm and fluid- almost like it’s lulling you to sleep. There’s still a little anxiety rolling in your stomach, but that’s softened now too. You’re sure Bakugou would laugh at you if you told him, but he really did make you feel safe. If only in an belligerent and begrudging sort of way on his end. 

Another few minutes pass and you’re at the entrance to your apartment building. He hovers close behind you as you swipe your keycard, eyes watching the same way they’d done all night. He really is diligent when he wants to be apparently.

“Are you coming in?” You ask, lingering in the door way.

“Nah. I’m on patrol for a few more hours.”  

“Oh- yeah, okay, that makes sense.”

“You scared or somethin’?” He asks, squinting at you. “Go inside already.” 

You curl your fingers a little tighter around the handle, shifting your weight onto your other foot. It frustrates you a little- how he seems to see right through you when you can hardly ever tell what he’s thinking. 

“No- well, yes, but I get it, you’ve got other priorities.” You say, gently. “Go, I’ll be fine. Don’t let my weird paranoia hold you up or anything.” 

He just nods, adjusting the mask on his face as he turns away. Bakugou only makes it a few steps, just barely secluded into the shadows beyond the complex lights, before he’s turning around. Hand itching at the back of his neck, he plants his feet, regarding you with familiar red eyes.

“It’s not weird.” He says. “I’ll be back later. Don’t do anything fuckin’ stupid while I’m gone.” 

Then he’s turning around before you can say anything, his dark costume melting into the shadows. The air somehow feels colder when he leaves, empty almost, and you rush into your apartment complex as a result.

When you’re finally unlocking your door, and quickly relocking it behind you, the exhaustion nearly bulldozes you. You’d been so careful that day, not using your quirk just like Bakugou had advised, but in the end you figured it didn’t really matter- you were scared, absolutely terrified about some villian it didn’t seem like you could even prepare for. That would make anyone tired, weird quirk or not.

Collapsing on your couch with a sigh, you can’t help yourself as sleep quickly takes over.

--/--

You’re jolted awake by the sound of knocking, and, even in your sleep-drunk haze, you know who it is. You’d never known anyone else in your entire life who knocked as loudly as he did. It was like miniature bombs were going off against the glass. 

Bakugou is standing outside in normal clothes, thankfully shucked of both his hero costume and mask. He’s clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, tapping his foot impatiently as you approach the door. You wonder how he’s not cold, how in the world he’s not freezing his ass off out there. You’d ask, but the exhaustion is still creeping in, piloting your body with hardly a quarter of as much energy as you would normally have.

“You look tired.” He says, taking in your appearance when you slide open the door. He lets himself in, brushing past you when you apparently take too long. “You fall asleep or somethin’?”

“Yeah- yeah, I did, sorry.” You yawn, rubbing away the sleep in your eyes. “Couldn’t help it. Was tired.”

“Oh.”

Bakugou seems a little stilted, hardly even looking at you, and when he does, it’s with a flush on his face. You just shrug his weird behavior off, not having the energy to ask nor the care to even remotely get to the bottom of it. As it was- you were dead tired. His weird mood wasn’t going to trump that apparently.

“You all good?” You yawn again into your hand, then stretch your arms high above your head. “No injuries or anything?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s good. That’s good.” You trail off, turning away from him to gather your purse and coat off of the couch. “How was it?”

“I didn’t find them yet. If that’s what you’re asking.”

“No- well, that’s sorta- but not really.” You’re fluffing the pillows for him before you realize, gathering a blanket from where it was tucked away too. “I meant- like, everything go alright? Just general checking up stuff.”

“Why- you decide to care now or somethin’?”

“Don’t be difficult. I care. Wouldn’t- wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care to know the answer.”

“Fine.” He grumbles, cheeks going pink once more. “It was boring. Nobody was out tryin’ to pull anything.” 

“Well, that’s nice to hear, actually.”

You continue making up his pseduo bed, spreading the blanket over your cushions and folding it back neatly. It’s almost subconscious, the way your hands move even through your sleep-fog. Bakugou just watches, looking at you a little strangely. His red eyes flicker from you, to the pseduo-bed you’d made up for him, and then back again several times over. 

On the couch, there’s the normal blanket, but this time you’d also sacrificed one of your real pillows too. You figured that if he was going to go through the hassle of making sure you were safe, then the least you could do was spare him a good pillow. Still, the gesture seemed to stump him, and Bakugou just stared blankly at it. Then his eyes flicker back to you, something unsure in them.

You’re not used to seeing him like that. Apprehensive. Almost timid.

“Hope it’s alright.” You tell him, passing him to flick off the bright overhead light. “Thought it was about time for an upgrade. Take it as a show of my appreciation.” 

“Whatever.” He flusters a bit, but shakes it off quickly. “Glad you finally realized how shitty your throw pillows are.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“You really that tired?”

“Yeah. Sorry. ‘s pretty hard for me to function after I’ve just woken up. ‘s really embarrassing.” 

“No, it’s-”

Bakugou seems to suddenly seize in place half way through his words, spinning the other direction like someone was puppetting his strings. You really start to wonder what had gotten into him in the few hours since you’d seen him last.

“Well, if that’s all,” You say, hiding another large yawn behind your gloves. Then you’re pulling at the material, freeing one of your hands. “Then I’d really like to go back to sleep. So, c’mon, hand out already, yeah?” 

He nods tightly, his whole face red. He won’t look at you, eyes hardly flickering up to yours for a second before he forces them back down. Another loud yawn escapes you, and that only seems to worsen whatever problem he’s having, because then Bakugou is dragging a hand down his face- stretching and pulling and tugging at heated skin like he’s in physical pain. Still, he holds his hand out anyways, refusing to meet your eyes.

That same subtle warmth floods you again, solid and sure where his hand meets yours. It’s muted now, a little softer, but still there. You’re half asleep, barely functioning, and you absentmindedly rub the back of his hand with you thumb, once, twice, and then pat when you let go.

He just looks at you, absolutely bewildered, and honestly- you’re not sure you have an explanation. There is no explanation. All there is, is your bone-deep exhaustion and the apparently uncharacteristic things it makes you do. Like shushing him when he starts to speak, which only seems to stun him more. Then you’re waving him off,  beginning to walk towards your bedroom without hardly letting him get a reaction in edgewise. You’d apologize, but honestly, you’re sure you’d fall asleep half-way through the words. 

“Goodnight.” You say absentmindedly, head lolling over your shoulder to look back at him. “Have a good sleep or whatever. See you tomorrow.”

Then you’re stumbling down the hall, just barely remembering to flick off the overhead lights. You hit the bed, flopping down boneless and sated. 

You’re sure it must take all over 10 seconds until you’re out again. Maybe even less than that.

--

hope u enjoy lovelies :)))

taglist:  @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9  @the2ndl @the-shota-king-masayuki @shy-panda02 @devastyle @shoto-supremacy00 @shotoful 

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x self insert #bakugou fic #bakugou series #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha fic #bnha fic #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine

[itadorisgf]

coming out (as nonbinary).

this is self-indulgent and for all my enby babes<3 i adore you and love you so much. also, this is all platonic because i love platonic relationships<3

nanami kento and zenin maki.

gn!reader/enby reader, platonic relationships.

— nanami kento.

you’re jittery with nerves as you walk down the hallway to the room where nanami’s currently filling out paperwork for his latest mission.

you got this. you got this. you got this.

you repeat that phrase over and over in your head as an attempt to psych yourself up. it took you some time to figure it out, but now that you know you’re nonbinary, you’ve decided it’s time to let people know, starting with your closest friend. standing behind the closed door, you take a long, drawn-out breath before knocking on it twice.

shit, shit, shit. maybe, you should just tell him some other time when he’s not busy. yeah, that sounds—

“come in.”

fuck. 

you slowly turn the door handle and push the door open. nanami glances up from behind the desk he’s working at with a tired, though not unhappy, expression. he’s slipped off his glasses and loosened his tie while his coat rests on the back of his seat. the sleeves of his dress-shirt have been neatly rolled up to his elbows and there’s a pen, paused in mid-air, resting in his hand.

“sorry to bother you, nanamin,” you sheepishly apologize, bringing a hand up to nervously rub at the back of your neck. his mouth tightens for a brief moment at the usage of the nickname that gojo originally came up with before relaxing. it’s irritating when gojo refers to him like that, but not when you do. at the most, he feels fond exasperation whenever you use the nickname.

“you’re never a bother,” nanami smoothly states, placing the pen in his hand flat on the desk. there’s a questioning arch of his brow as he folds his hands together. “though, you don’t normally come to visit me when i’m filling out paperwork.” 

you squirm underneath his gaze before taking a seat in the chair across from him. you force a chuckle to try and dissipate the tension in your frame. it doesn’t work. you drum your fingers against the edge of the desk and bounce your knee underneath it.

“yeah, i actually have something to tell you, nanamin.”

you got this. you got this. you got this.

you take a deep shuddery breath and meet his eyes.

“i’m nonbinary.”

silence fills the air as your knee bounces faster in anticipation. you’re unable to read anything from nanami’s expression, which only serves to worsen your nerves. maybe, you shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that. maybe, this was a mistake.

“what are your preferred pronouns, then?”

the calm and collected sound of nanami’s voice draws you out of your spiraling negativity. you rush to inform him of the new pronouns that you wish to go by and nanami simply nods in response.

“i am glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. though i don’t say it often, you’re a friend i deeply value and trust.”

a giddy grin spreads across your cheeks at nanami’s words and easy acceptance of who you are.

“yeah, yeah. love you too, nanamin.”

— zenin maki.

maki picks up on your nervous energy right away. you keep on fidgeting with your hands, something that you only do when you’re anxious. you also refuse to meet her eyes, keeping your head down low as if the concrete stairs you two sit on are incredibly interesting. there’s no way that they’re that interesting. no, something is definitely bothering you. your out of character behavior is unsettling and maki can’t take it for much longer.

“spit it out.”

you flinch, caught off-guard by the suddenness of maki’s statement. you lift your head from boring holes into the asphalt to look at her. with her brows drawn tightly together, her expression is deceivingly annoyed, but you know her better than anyone else. you can tell maki’s actually worried for you, and you can’t help but feel guilty for making her feel that way.

“spit what out?” 

you feign ignorance, playing dumb to put off the inevitable. you want to tell her so badly, but you're afraid. afraid that she may think of you differently after you confess something that you hold so close to your heart. it’s dumb, to be honest. logically, you know that maki’s not that type of person. she’s your best friend, who’s only ever supported you. (well, most of the time, anyways. she tends to call you a dumbass when you do things without thinking them through ahead of time.) but in fear of getting rejected and shunned, all logic is thrown out the window.

“you know what i’m talking about.” 

maki tilts her head, giving you a pointed look that has you averting your gaze away. you’ve never been a good liar and maki knows you too well. she heavily sighs and knocks her shoulder against yours.

“you can always tell me what’s bothering you, dummy.”

her voice softens in a way that others wouldn’t believe zenin maki was capable of. you count yourself lucky that you’re one of few to have the privilege of seeing this side of her, not that you’d ever tell anyone about it. (maki threatens that she’d beat your ass if you did. you’d rather not take your chances. you know it’s not an empty threat.)

“i know.”

you take a deep breath to calm your racing nerves. maki’s knee brushes against yours and you nearly cry at the action. (that’s always been her attempt at grounding you whenever you get too lost in your head.)

you raise your head to look into her eyes and force the words out before you can back out.

“i’m nonbinary.”

her eyes widen slightly in surprise from your statement, and perhaps the sheer volume of your voice, before she quickly regains her composure. each second that passes by stretches on for hours in your mind as you wait for her to respond. a small smile plays at her lips as she raises her hand to gently hit the top of your head.

“you got all worked up for that, idiot?”

a startled noise escapes you before you pout and rub circles at the spot maki hit. she rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath about how she didn’t even hit you that hard.

“i was nervous! i didn’t know how’d you react.”

her eyes soften before she lightly scoffs. 

“i don’t think of you any differently if that’s what you’re concerned about. in my eyes, you’re still the same idiot you’ve always been and always will be.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #zenin maki x reader #maki x reader #celeste.scribs #celeste.adores #adoring.nanami #adoring.maki #help these made me kinda emotional to write

[maaaddiexo]

The Witch’s Tower (The Weeping Monk)

Mainlist | Serieslist

Warnings: cursing

part 1/4 (4 for now; maybe more after second season release)

[part 2]

-

He was in pain. She could tell from a hundred feet away. Part of her curse, she supposed. He and Father Carden had come back to the grounds after weeks of hunting the Fey folk and she could feel in the air that not all was good. Something was wrong.

Unable to leave her room, Y/N watched from the tower as he settled in a corner of the garden and carved bow after bow and twice as many arrows. She didn’t know why he didn’t get his wounds tended to but that only added to the mystery around him.

Despite the hot summer sun beating down on him, the Weeping Monk kept his hood up and his sleeves covering his hands. He didn’t even take off his boots. Y/N wasn’t sure she’d ever seen his hair – or anything above his eyebrows for that matter. Like everybody else, she only saw his hands and half his face, and only ever from a distance. For nobody was allowed to know she was there. The Weeping Monk was Father Carden’s greatest known weapon, but he had an even greater one. One he kept a secret – locked away in a tower like a princess in the fairytales her mother used to tell her.

Absentmindedly, Y/N felt the tingle in her fingers and raised her hand. The tingling intensified and a small breeze blew through the room, twirling her hair and fluttering the curtains. Soon it left the room and carried outside and down to the man below.

At first, it would feel like nothing more than gust of wind. But she knew the Weeping Monk was special. That he wasn’t entirely human. And she knew that he would feel the magic in the air when nobody else would. And he did. His hand stopped mid-carve and he dropped the half-made arrow onto the grass. His shoulders tensed and Y/N watched from afar as he reached for his sword. She smiled and pointed her finger towards the ceiling and drew circles in the air. The wind picked up and carried her words down to him.

Look up.

The Monk didn’t like magic, but he wasn’t a fool either. He understood magic and knew when to fear it and when to listen to it. Slowly - angrily - he lifted his head towards the sky and, as if against his own will, his eyes were drawn to the abandoned tower of the castle. He squinted. It wasn’t abandoned at all.

Pleased with her work, Y/N stepped back from the window and walked to the other side of her room, past her easel and paints, and to the wardrobe. She didn’t have a lot of clothes but Father Carden made sure she was comfortable enough not to seek attention. She opened the double doors and pushed her clothes aside, reaching in the dark for the lip of the panel that would reveal her only hiding place. The wooden panel came out easily enough and she gathered the pieces of paper and carried them to the round table in the middle of the room. She splayed them out beside each other so that she could see them all at once. Each one was different even though they were all of the same thing.

Him. The Weeping Monk.

Most were of his hands and the part of his face you could see, but a few were of his full body though none of those were completed. He always moved or left before she could finish. He was dangerous – she knew that. But he was also extremely intriguing and her curiosity had finally won her over. She knew his reputation, but she wasn’t afraid of him.

Creak.

Startled, Y/N looked towards her door. It couldn’t be Michael with her lunch and Father Carden was in meetings all day. Tripping over the area rug, Y/N scrambled to collect all the sketches and shoved them back in the wardrobe, sealing them in place behind the loose panel. She heard the lock click and turned just as the door opened. And there he stood. The Weeping Monk.

Y/N swallowed. He was much more intimidating in person. But he couldn’t hurt her and that knowledge calmed her nerves. The Monk took a step forward but ran into an invisible wall. She pointed to the cross above her door, not that the Monk could see it from where she stood. “This is holy ground, which means anyone who comes here needs permission to enter.” The Monk only stared back at her. He never blinked, and Y/N found that unnerving. “Still, I don’t have any friends and don’t get many visitors so come on in. Oh, but leave your weapons at the door. I don’t care for violence.” She sat back on her bed as the Monk tried to step over the threshold again and was successful this time. He slid the bow and quiver full of arrows off his shoulder and undid the sword belt. “And the daggers in your trousers and boot.”

The Monk rolled his eyes but obeyed, making a show of dropping them next to his other weapons. For a moment, they eyed each other before he finally looked away and began to walk around the circular room. He ran his fingers along the intricate carvings in the shelves and along the collection of books but stopped when he came to her worktable. He only said one word. “Witchcraft.”

His voice was low and gravelly. While others may have found it intimidating, Y/N found it soothing.

“That’s what a witch does. I’m surprised you can see anything from underneath that oversized hood of yours.”

The Monk didn’t respond immediately and instead continued looking around. “Father Carden said this tower was abandoned.”

“It was at one point of time. But where better to hide someone you once thought was human than a derelict tower rumoured to collapse at any moment?”

“You’re a Fey witch?”

“I know you’ve got the scent. Tell me, do I smell like Fey?”

The Monk was quiet for a moment. “No. You smell human.”

“By all accounts I am human. Except for the small inconsistency which is that I have the ability to practice witchcraft.”

“That’s not possible.” Y/N couldn’t tell if it was astonishment or fear she heard in his voice.

“Oh, it’s possible. Just unlikely.”

“How? How is it possible? And why would Father Carden let you live? Here? In our place of worship.”

“The same reason he lets you live. Yes, that’s right. I know all about you, Weeping Monk. So don’t you dare judge me. We’re both his greatest weapons and we let him use us because it means we’ll live to see another day.”

The Monk practically growled. “How do you know?”

Creak.

Y/N blinked. Was it lunch already? “Shit.” She began to panic. Seven seconds until Michael walked through that door. “Quick! In the wardrobe.”

“What?”

Y/N tripped over the rug again as she ran for the weapons. “Not so loud or he’ll hear you.”

“Who?”

Y/N dragged the Monk to the wardrobe and opened the doors. She shoved the weapons into his chest before pushing him back into the wardrobe. “Stay here. Don’t move or make a sound. And don’t come out until I say so, okay? If Michael sees you here, then Carden won’t be able to protect you. And I doubt he’ll choose to either. You’ll burn with me if we’re caught.”

“Y/N?”

The girl closed the wardrobe doors and smoothed out her skirts. “Come in, Michael.”

There was no handle on the door. Just a lock on the outside. He kicked the door open with his foot and walked into the room, placing the tray on the table. “Did I hear you talking to someone?”

“Just myself. Working on a healing poultice.” She held up her hand where she’d cut herself on one of the Monk’s weapons. “Cut myself.”

Michael rolled his eyes as he backed out of the room and grabbed the tray that he’d used to carry up breakfast earlier that morning. “Stupid bitch.”

Unperturbed by Michael’s only insult, Y/N wiggled her fingers at him. “See you for supper, Michael!”

“Shut up, stupid bitch.”

Y/N cocked her head. “Hmm. He’s learned a new one. Good for him.” Still, she waited until she heard the sole wooden step creak before telling the Monk he could come out.

“Do you have a death wish?”

Y/N frowned as she took the weapons back from the Monk. “What?”

“You just locked a killer in your wardrobe.”

“Sorry. Next time you can hide under my bed. Are you hungry? I’ve got some wine around here somewhere.”

“Why aren’t you scared of me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and walked to her worktable. “Gods, you’re curious. Sit down.”

Realizing he wouldn’t get any answers out of her by resisting, the Monk slumped into the wooden seat and plucked a few grapes off the plate. He was hungry. Y/N messily wrapped a cloth around her wound before gathring a bunch of items from her worktable. She dropped them on the round table the Monk sat at and began sorting through them.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you. I’ll answer your questions in a moment.” In a stone mortar, she mixed and ground herbs and honey into a paste. “Roll up your sleeve.”

Apprehensively, the Monk did. He rolled it up past his elbow to expose the cuts on his arm. Her hand was warm as she held it firm and applied the paste over the wounds. He swallowed nervously. “What are you doing?”

“I already told you. I’m helping you. The blade you were cut with was laced with poison. That’s why it hurts more than usual.”

“How can you tell?”

“I could feel your pain. That’s what happens when magic is near. You can smell the Fey folk and I can sense them and their magic. Okay, see how this paste is light green? It’ll grow darker as it draws the poison from your blood and will only dry when there’s no more poison in your system. It won’t heal the wounds though so don’t worry – nobody will be suspicious.”

“If you’re not Fey, then how do you know all this. And how can you sense the Fey and magic. I mean…you’re human.”

“That is true. But I’m also cursed. Father Carden says that it’s poison that makes the Fey. But there are some humans cursed to similar fates. My parents were human, but they weren’t good people and they killed a Fey Elder. Because of that, the Hidden took revenge on them by cursing me. I’m not marked or anything. I’m just from two different worlds where neither wants me. But back to the story. Despite killing one of their Elders, the Fey took me in with the intention to raise me as their own. But Father Carden had heard a rumour about a human baby kidnapped by the Fey. By the time he heard the lie and found me, I was five years old.”

“Old enough to remember.”

Y/N felt a tear slide down her cheek. “He slaughtered the lot of them. That whole village…nothing was left. Burned or destroyed. Everything and everyone except for me. When they died, all their knowledge went to me.

“Carden brought me here thinking I was human and introduced me as his daughter. But a year later there was an incident and he saw the truth. In order to hide his mistake and embarrassment, he lied and said that I was killed by Fey and killed a whole village nearby just for the story.”

“But he locked you up here instead.”

Y/N shrugged and wiped her tears. “He knew how useful I could be. He said he’d spared my life two times now and I would spend my whole life repaying that debt.”

“And how do you do it?”

“When I feel magic, I send him a sign to meet me. I tell him where I feel it coming from and he goes in that direction and when he gets there, he uses you to sniff them out.” Y/N looked down at the paste. “It’s dry. No more poison. And you should probably leave. Carden will be looking for you soon.”

“Let me ask you something. I can tell you don’t like being trapped up here and used like a puppet so why don’t you just leave?”

“There’s only two ways out of here. The door or the window. If I take the door and run away, he’ll torture and slaughter all the Fey because he knows it’ll get back to me. And I will not take the window because if I leave this place, it won’t be by suicide. I wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction.”

The Monk smirked and collected his weapons. “I don’t think he realizes that you’re nobody’s weapon but your own. What’s your name?”

“He calls me his little angel, but my real name is Y/N.”

The Monk gave a half smile. “See you around, Y/N.”

“If you do come back, it’s custom you bring something to a witch’s place of residence. It’s a symbol of truce. And I…I like flowers.”

The Monk gave a brisk nod. “Flowers.” He closed the door behind him and walked down the winding staircase until he ended up outside, facing the woods. Looking around and seeing no one, he reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out the folded piece of paper. His bootprint was on it because he’d stepped on it when Y/N had shoved him into the wardrobe but the drawing was still clear. And at the bottom, the image had been signed, dated, and titled.

The One Who Cries for the Family He Kills.

He looked at the image again, feeling a pull on his heart. It was him.

[part 2]

#cursed #the weeping monk #lancelot #fey #the weeping monk x reader #the weaping monk x fem!reader #the weeping monk x y/n #magic #fantasy #fanfiction #camelot #imagine #the weeping monk imagine

[theveryinsignificantpotato]

Hi! I was hoping I could request an Alastor x reader, where the reader is an overlord and one of his top competitors? I’m a huge sucker for a good rival to lovers trope, and I thought it might be interesting with him!

I did love writing this, I got a little stuck on parts so I apologise for the wait, but here it is!

My Sworn Enemy

If you told me before that I would end up here I'd probably have killed you on the spot, laughing loudly while I did. Alastor has always irritated me, and from the moment I saw him trekking through my territory, leaving breathtaking carnage in his wake, we had become enemies. Neither of us would have had it any other way, either.

Numerous arguments and all out battles come to mind when I try to devise what led me here, decades and decades of hatred continuously reminding me of why exactly I should be literally anywhere else, but I'm not, and somehow I ended up wrapped up in his arms with his kiss on my lips.

He was annoying and stubborn and cruel, and I have every right to push him away and slap him and cuss him out, but I don't.

Why not?

He wasn't placing hands on me, or being creepy or gross like one would expect from most overlords, but his kiss was chaste and innocent. Only one of his hands only barely came in contact with my cheek, as if worried for how I was going to react, and his eyes remained closed.

It was strange, when the person who once held so much hatred in your heart is now willingly showing you a more vulnerable side, there isn't quite a proper way to react.

Should I kiss him back?

We were enemies, yes, but our fights ended quite a while ago, naturally we each got caught up in other business and only regarded the other as someone to be careful around, maybe even sneer at in the streets, after so long. Fighting with Alastor was tremendous fun back in the day, but with all these new overlords to worry about, there wasn't really time on anyone's schedule to deal with a mortal enemy.

It was rather silly the manner in which the anger left, the fighting died out over the course of ten or so years, then we stopped. Another decade later, lucifer himself invites a bunch of overlords to a party (just to see the chaos that ensues, of course), and of course, Alastor was there.

I may never understand what compelled him to interact with me, but he did, we talked idly, it was pretty awkward at first, but he was polite, and after he cracked a couple jokes we were chatting like old friends. It was as if someone flipped a switch, and after years of hatred we became somewhat of friends.

From then on when we saw each other in the streets we'd smile rather than sneer, occasionally engaging in light conversation and banter in the light of a coffee shop or while bloodying the pavement on the streets. He was shockingly pleasant to be around, and was consistent in drawing out my laughter with his dumb jokes.

There is a garden just behind the Cannibal Cafe in the west end of the fifth circle, it is quite lovely considering the location, and due to its region, most of the visiting demons were of a type that Alastor was familiar with, and often scared others away (you can't die here, being eaten is not a pleasant experience), so it was pretty peaceful when he led me there. We were just talking, like always, joking about the dumb things we used to fight about, or reminiscing about the carnage we had left behind decades ago. Once he even lifted a flower from a bush and tucked it into my hair, and I couldn't hide my blush even as it died in his hand.

"How did I ever hate you?" I said with a soft laugh after tucking a flower from the very same bush into his fluffy hair so it rested between his ear and his horns, effectively making him the most adorable being in hell.

His smile seemed to soften when I did that, and he looked almost as though he was under a spell when he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine.

Oh right, here we are.

My moment of hesitation seems to last ages, my own mind fighting this long battle over whether or not I should push him away or kiss him back, or just plain not react at all! It's all so confusing, I find myself stressed and exhausted just by thinking, while Alastor is so warm and sweet and inviting, and briefly I wonder if he could help me silence those pesky thoughts of mine.

Then something snaps in my mind and I find myself pulling him closer by the nape of his neck and finally returning his affection, bringing my free hand up to hold his to my cheek where it had once only hovered anxiously.

He reacts almost instantly, bringing an arm around my waist while he traces my features with the pad of his thumb. He seems almost excited at this development, and has a bright genuine grin spread across his face when he pulls away from me.

What the fuck do I do now?

My mind is racing and my face is hot, but I don't look away from Alastor's eyes, red and glittering with delight, they're so mesmerizing I can't bring myself to take my eyes off them. Then his hand is removed from my cheek, only for me to take it in both of mine, holding onto it like a lifeline while I attempt to put together some sort of response to this turn of events.

"Sweetheart,"

His voice seems to dissolve the turmoil that had manifested in my mind, and I catch myself staring at him,

"I seem to have broken you," he chuckles, "do return sometime, I enjoy our talks." He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to my head

"Wh-" I blink once, twice, forcing myself from my daze, "was that real?" I ask finally, keeping my grip on his hand

He laughs softly "Which part, my darling?" He asks, tilting his head to the side while he traces his thumb gently over my knuckles.

"Uhm the part where you kissed me" I said, suddenly overcome by this giddy anxiety that followed today's events.

He hums "Yes indeed, about as real as when you returned my affection." His free hand raises to cup my own over his occupied one, and I take a brief moment to marvel over how warm this man was

"Can… can I do it again…?" I ask, a goofy smile taking over my features

He laughs heartily, "perhaps you may, if I am granted the honor of becoming your lover," He hums with an excited look in his eyes

"My sworn enemy asking to be my boyfriend?" I quirk an eyebrow, unable to hide the small giggle that emerged from my chest, "how can I refuse?"

He grins, releasing one of my hands so he can spin me into another sweet kiss, pressing a hand into the small of my back in order to pull me close while the other keeps its hold on mine.

This time I react immediately, wrapping my free arm around his neck kissing him back with an electrifying excitement. My fingers flexed against his and I could feel his content hum radiate through his chest.

When he pulls away I rest my forehead against his and we share a bright grin.

This should be an interesting new chapter.

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel

[izazov]

This prompt has been on my mind for ages. Today, the inspiration struck, resulting in this ficlet. The ending was supposed to be less angsty and without the dark overtones, but here we are. 

The cot was narrow and hard, and the stone wall uncomfortably damp and cold. After having been stripped of his armor, Obi-Wan was left wearing only thin cotton tunic, loose leggings and boots. It was a poor protection against the chill that was slowly but surely seeping into his very bones.

 Obi-Wan shifted on his small cot, trying to find a more comfortable position. It wasn't an easy task, not even for someone who has spent the majority of his life sleeping under the open sky.

But that was the purpose of a cell, was it not? To leave one bereft of comforts as well as freedom.

Dragging his fingers across his face, Obi-Wan pushed those morose thoughts to the back of his mind. It would do him no good to sink into self-pity. He had made his choice, and he had done it knowing what the cost would be. To lament his decision now would be futile, but also a sign of a weak and fickle character.

He had already lost almost everything, he had no intention adding dignity and integrity to the list.

The sound of metal scraping against stone, followed by heavy footsteps made Obi-Wan stiffen involuntarily, his gaze flicking toward the iron bars of his cell.

Obi-Wan tried to remain calm, but it was a doomed battle. His stomach twisted into a tight knot, his fingers flexing where they were resting on his knees.

Have they already reached a decision? It has been barely a day since Obi-Wan had been thrown back into his cell, after refusing to accept guilt or plead for mercy for having disobeyed his orders.

Obi-Wan swallowed the bile that had gathered in the back if his throat, helpless anger flaring inside his chest as he recalled Palpatine's voice, accusing him of treason.

Treason. After fighting and bleeding for the King and his country his entire adult life, that was what he would be remembered for; the act that had earned him the moniker The Traitor General.

As if the real treason would not have been razing an entire town to ground and spilling innocent blood, all in the Prince's name.

Even if Obi-Wan had been capable of going against his morals, he would rather have slit his own throat than tied Anakin's name with the slaughter of the innocents.

Even those who were supporting Dooku.

Not that it mattered to Palpatine and the majority of the Royal Council. Quite the opposite. Obi-Wan has long suspected the Lord Regent's... less than favorable opinion of himself.

Obi-Wan could only imagine Palpatine's satisfaction with Obi-Wan's fall from grace. Now, there would be no one standing between him and the Prince. No one to lessen his malignant influence.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and grit his teeth, his hands balling into fists as impotent fury blazed its path through Obi-Wan's veins.

There was nothing Obi-Wan could do about it now. No way to prove he had deliberately been set up to fail. He had been stripped of his rank and title, his reputation and honor tarnished. His word meant nothing. He had nothing. Only his life.

Soon, maybe not even that.

The steps grew louder as they drew closer, only to halt abruptly.

"General," the familiar voice called, low and urgent, making Obi-Wan's eyes snap open.

"Rex," Obi-Wan said, rising to his feet and walking over to the cell bars. The sight of Rex dressed in the formal uniform of the Captain of the Guard still seemed faintly surreal to Obi-Wan, even if it has been six months since Rex had assumed that position. Obi-Wan frowned, glancing warily at their surroundings. "You should not be here."

"With due respect, General," Rex said, squaring Obi-Wan with a flat look. "That's probably the stupidest thing I've heard you say." He paused, the corner of his mouth lifting faintly. "And I've heard you composing lyrics while drunk."

Obi-Wan felt his mouth draw into a smile. "Ah, yes. That hadn't been my most dignified moment."

"Maybe not," Rex said, growing serious. "But there's not much demand for dignity while you're out there, freezing and covered in mud, waiting for the enemy. Camaraderie, respect... That's what matters. And you showed us both, General. I- We will never forget it."

"I-" Obi-Wan's voice faltered for a moment, his throat burning with a myriad of emotions. He swallowed thickly, composing himself. "You should not call me that anymore. I am no longer your general."

"You will always be my general," Rex said, solemn and without a moment's hesitation. A shadow crossed over his features. "Cody would say the same if he were here."

Obi-Wan looked away as guilt churned in the hollow of his chest. "It hadn't been my intention to drag Cody down with me. He should not have been demoted because of my actions."

"Cody doesn't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself," Rex remarked, pulling out a key from the inside of his jacket. "What you did was right, and the men know it."

Obi-Wan made a step back, his eyes widening in alarm. "Rex, I am not-"

"I'm not here to break you out," Rex cut in, unlocking the door and pulling it open. "I'm here to take you to the Prince. We don't have much time, General, so save the martyr act for some other time."

Obi-Wan blinked, caught between amusement and concern. "What does Anakin have to do with this?" Crossing his hands over his chest, Obi-Wan gave Rex a sharp look. "You were supposed to discourage his reckless behavior, not go along with it."

"Right now, General, you're the one with the problematic attitude," Rex said, frustration giving his voice a sharp edge. He squared Obi-Wan with a flat look, gesturing at the open door of his cell. "Like I said, we don't have much time. So you can cooperate or risk seeing what the Prince would do if I don't bring you to him on time."

Obi-Wan pressed his mouth into a thin line. "I don't think Anakin has been a good influence on you, Captain."

Rex shrugged. "Since you're the one who recommended me for this position, you have no one but yourself to blame, General."

Obi-Wan sighed, but made no further protest. Rex was right. Whatever ridiculous plan Anakin had concocted, Obi-Wan had no choice but go along with it. Or risk pushing Anakin into doing something incredibly foolish.

Striding out of the cell, Obi-Wan gave Rex a pointed look, arching an eyebrow. "I concede, Captain. Now what?"

Rex pulled out a pair of manacles, looking uncomfortable. "I- I'm sorry, General. It's just-"

"I understand, Rex," Obi-Wan cut in, extending his wrists. "You have my permission."

Rex let out a sigh of relief. But he still looked uncomfortable as he closed the manacles around Obi-Wan's wrists.

"Now," Obi-Wan said, grimly determined. "Take me to Anakin."

***

Obi-Wan had half-expected someone to stop them.

But, as they were walking the mostly empty hallways, Rex's hand firmly around Obi-Wan's bicep, no one had spared them more than a curious look.

Despite that, Obi-Wan could not relax; his stomach was tied into knots, while his lungs seemed unable to draw enough air.

It was nothing new. Anakin has always been the only person capable of completely shattering Obi-Wan's equilibrium.

Though, this was the first time he had done it when he wasn't actually physically present.

Obi-Wan's confusion and alarm grew further when, instead of taking the right turn, Rex took him up the narrow stairs that led to the east wing of the palace.

"Where are we going?" Obi-Wan demanded in a low voice. "This wing has not been opened since the Queen's death."

"I have my orders," Rex answered curtly, making it clear he wasn't going to elaborate further.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, but remained silent.

"We're here," Rex announced, stopping in front of large mahogany doors. He tapped the doors twice in rapid succession, then took a step back. "The Prince is waiting for you."

"You are not coming inside?"

Rex's mouth curled faintly. "Like I said, I have my orders."

"Orders, of course," Obi-Wan remarked drily. Rex merely shrugged in response.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan pushed open the doors, only to find himself enveloped in a tight embrace as soon as the doors clicked shut behind him.

For one moment - precious and stolen - Obi-Wan relaxed into Anakin's embrace, allowing his eyes to fall shut, the entire world narrowing to just the two of them.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin murmured into Obi-Wan's hair, his arms tightening around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "Thank the Gods you're finally here."

Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, painfully aware how there was no other place he would rather be in than Anakin's arms. And equally aware that it was the one place where he shouldn't be.

Silently cursing his own weakness, Obi-Wan forced himself to step back, out of Anakin's embrace. It took far more strength of will than Obi-Wan was willing to admit. Even to himself.

Ignoring Anakin's confused, dejected expression, Obi-Wan sketched a low bow, purposely clanging with his manacles. "You left me no choice, Your Highness."

Anakin blinked, confusion quickly morphing into frustration on his face. "Now is not the time for your poor humor, Obi-Wan."

"Believe me, your Highness, I am in no mood for jesting."

Anakin's eyes flashed. "Stop calling me that," he bit out. He let out a frustrated noise, dragging a hand through his already messy curls. "What is wrong with you? Don't you understand how precarious your current position is?" Anakin's voice broke on the last word, his expression turning desperate for a fraction of a moment.

Obi-Wan's resolve weakened as he took in Anakin's appearance: the paleness of his face, the dark circles underneath his eyes and their almost frantic gleam.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed. "Being seen with me now can only harm you. You know that."

Anakin's lips curled over his teeth, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I may not be king yet, but I am not about to cower before the Council like a scared child in my own blasted home, Obi-Wan."

"Is that why we are meeting here and not in your quarters?"

Anakin opened his mouth, only to shut it, his cheeks coloring.

Obi-Wan frowned, unease forming a tight knot in his abdomen. "Anakin?" Obi-Wan said, trying but failing to keep his growing alarm out of his voice. "What are you not telling me?"

Anakin took a deep breath, straightening fully. "The Council has decided on your sentence."

Obi-Wan swallowed, his breath stuttering in his chest. He made himself smile. "And? What have they decided?"

"Exile," Anakin replied, voice barely over a whisper. He looked away, his hands curling into fists. "Some- Some members of the Council were insisting on execution but Palpatine made them reconsider."

"Did he now?" Obi-Wan said, more to himself than Anakin.

Anakin snapped his gaze up, scowling. "I know you dislike the Lord Regent, but he was the only one defending you." Anakin rubbed at his forehead. "Except Yoda."

"So this is goodbye, then?" Obi-Wan asked after a moment, faintly surprised how steady his voice was.

Anakin shook his head vehemently. As if mere thought was too horrible to contemplate. He crossed the space between them in two long strides, gripping Obi-Wan by his upper arms, his eyes gleaming fervently. "No, because you are not going anywhere. I won't allow it."

Obi-Wan let out a deep breath. "Anakin, there is nothing you can do. Even if you were-"

"Yes there is," Anakin cut in, deadly resolve etched onto his features.

Obi-Wan smiled, a soft, sad smile. "You are my Prince and my dearest friend, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "I would have given my life for you a hundred times over, but I won't allow you to tarnish your honor and what little has left of mine on a fool's quest."

Anakin closed his eyes briefly, his face contorting into a pained expression. "That is not your decision to make, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan felt a shiver of dread crawl down his spine. "What do you mean?"

Anakin released him, then turned on his heel, striding over to a nearby table. He stood there, unmoving, for one long moment, his shoulders sketching a rigid line.

"There is one law that goes beyond the Council, an old tradition no one would dare dispute," Anakin said, voice barely over a whisper. A moment later Obi-Wan could hear a faint click of a latch being opened. "The one thing that could save you and keep you here. With me."

Unconsciously, Obi-Wan made a step back. "There is no such law, Anakin. You should-"

Anakin turned around, fixing Obi-Wan with an unwavering gaze.

Obi-Wan broke off abruptly, his eyes widening at the sight of the gold collar in Anakin's right hand.

Obi-Wan knew that collar. Knew what it meant. But he refused to accept the implications.

Not now. Not like this.

"Yes, there is," Anakin said, striding forward. Obi-Wan felt frozen in place, his thoughts shuddering to a stop when he felt Anakin's fingers brush against his neck in a feather light caress. "I have the right to choose a consort. It can be anyone. And I have chosen you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan blinked up at Anakin, unable to move or form a coherent thought even as he felt the collar close around his neck.

"This is not the way, Anakin," Obi-Wan managed to force through the tight clench of his throat. "Take it off."

"There is no other way," Anakin said, tipping his forehead against Obi-Wan's. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, the soft click of a latch echoing loudly in the silence of the room.

#my fic #obikin #obikin au #one day i might come play in this au again

[friendship-ended-with-pokespe]

Kirby: Rescue the Friend in the Great Labyrinth! Chapter 1

Before the extra large castella, Kirby shut his eyes with rapt attention​. It’s because he felt that he wouldn't be able to hold it and inhale it in one gulp if he opened his eyes. However you look at it, a castella this large, delicious-looking, and top-class is too good to swallow whole in one gulp.

He should first close his eyes, smell it......and savor it without rushing after relishing the aroma of the castella...... Kirby opened his eyes with his heart racing. The castella was shining in gold, as if telling him to hurry up and eat. “Time to dig innnnnn......!” It was when Kirby opened his mouth while on the verge of drooling. “Kirbyyyyyy!! This is terrible~!” The door slammed open and Waddle Dee came tumbling in. Kirby blinked in surprise with his mouth wide open. “Waddle Dee......?” “We’re in trouble! Hot water, Kirby!” “S......Sure. My bad, Waddle Dee.” Kirby felt a bit guilty and apologized. “I wasn’t gonna hog it all to myself. It’s just that I had only one castella......” “Come on, shake a leg, Kirby!” “Chef Kawasaki gave this to me......he said that it’s a prototype menu for his shop......and said to give it a try and tell him my thoughts, so......I......I......” “I said that we’re in trouble! Hurry up and come!” “It’s not good to try it in secret, huh. I should go halfsies for something that’s yummy......sorry, Waddle Dee! I’m glad you made it in time. I’ll split it in half from now......” “Geeeez!!! That’s not what we’re talking about!” Grabbing Kirby’s hand, Waddle Dee pulled him down from his chair. “Wha......what is it, Waddle Dee? Ah, are you going to Chef Kawasaki to get seconds?” “I said that’s not it. That guy came!” “That guy? The ramen guy? The oden guy?” “It’s not a food stand! Anyways, just come!” “But the castella......” “The castella can come later!” Pulling Kirby reluctant for the castella, Waddle Dee started sprinting at full throttle.

Where the pair arrived at was the square at the foot of Mt. Dedede. Shaped like a sailboat, a spaceship with a familiar ring is docked. Kirby’s appetite was blown away right as he laid his eyes on it. “Ah, that ship is......Lor Starcutter! You don’t mean!?” “There's just no way. That guy has shown up!” Waddle Dee pointed to the Lor Starcutter with an unusually stern look. Three people could be seen before the Lor. King Dedede is the one with a noticeably large build. The masked swordsman, Meta Knight is next him. Lastly, the one spruiking before them is...... “Magolor~!?” Shouted Kirby, and in complete contrast from just now, started sprinting with enough force to drag Waddle Dee. Magolor turned around, having noticed Kirby’s loud shout. With a hood on, his face was beaming with a smile. “Yo, Kirby! Long time no see! How’s everything?”

”Y......You......why......” Kirby stood on guard and glared at Magolor. He went through a bitter time with Magolor before. For him to show up in Dream Land as if nothing happened......he must be up to no good. “What did you come here for!? I’m not letting you do as you want! Get out of Dream Land!” “You have the wrong idea, Kirby. I’m really, really, sorry about that time. I really need you guys’ help this time!” He clasped his hands and fixed his eyes on Kirby. Kirby sealed his lips and shook his head “No can do. I’m not falling for the same trick twice. I won’t believe your words ever again!” “Don’t say that! I’m asking you here, Kirby......I want you to at least hear what I have to say.” Magolor hung his head downheartedly. “To tell you the truth......my friend is in trouble.” “......” “I want to go save him as soon as possible. But there’s nothing I can do by myself! I beg you, Kirby. Lend me your strength......!” Kirby still didn’t relax his expression. Meta Knight said, having listened in silence. “You came on a fool's errand, Magolor. There isn’t a single person that could be manipulated by your lies here.” “Don’t say that......Meta Knight......!” “Would you like to be slashed by my sword?” Meta Knight laid his hands on the prized sword, Galaxia. Magolor shuddered with fear and kneeled. “Listen to what I have to say......I want to save my friend! My best friend has been captured in the Great Labyrinth of the Mirror!” “......What? The Great Labyrinth......of the Mirror? On the verge of drawing his sword, Meta Knight, stopped his hands. Magolor said with a frantic look. “You guys know it too, right? That frightening mirror of legends......Dimension Mirror!” Kirby, King Dedede, and Meta Knight all exchanged glances. Suspended above the skies of Dream Land, the Dimension Mirror is a sacred mirror in the Mirror World. It has a strange power to reflect the desires of everyone and grant them. “What do you mean? What happened to the Dimension Mirror?” Asked Meta Knight, where Magolor said while making exaggerated gestures. “My friend has been swallowed up in that mirror! He was unable to leave the Mirror World......I’m worried to death about him......I beg you, Kirby, save him!” Kirby wasn’t sure how he should respond. He does want to lend his strength if what he said is true. But would it be alright to trust him? You see, Magolor is a smooth talker. Kirby hasn’t forgotten that he went through a bitter experience from falling for his words before. Meta Knight, King Dedede, and Waddle Dee all kept their mouth shut. As expected, none of them seem to believe in him. Magolor said in tearful voice. “......I......see......you can’t trust me, huh......” “......” “I’m the one at fault, huh......but it’s sad, you know......how could you distrust even me caring for a friend......I thought Kirby would understand my feelings......” “......Huh?” “You care a lot about your friends. If a friend you love is in danger, you’d never turn a blind eye, would you?” Magolor glanced at Waddle Dee as he said so. Kirby realized suddenly. If Waddle Dee happens to be captured by a bad guy or is in distress, Kirby would go rescue him with all his strength. Whatever the danger may be, he is sure to face it without hesitation.” “I’m the same as you. I want to save my beloved friend at all costs......!” Magolor clung to Kirby with a frantic look. Kirby’s heart wavered. Magolor may be a big fat liar, but him caring for a friend could be genuine. Similar to how Kirby cares for his buddies. Kirby couldn’t possibly trample on such. “......Got it.” Kirby nodded. King Dedede was wide-eyed. “The heck did you just say, Kirby!? Don’t tell me that you believe in this prick!” “I do. I’ll go and save his friend.” “Really!? Hooray! Now that’s Kirby, so reliable!” Magolor jumped about in joy. “Kirby, you can’t just believe in him that simply. He could be up to something again.” Waddle Dee said in worry. “It’s ok-ay! If it’s a lie, I’ll teach him a lesson when that time comes!” Kirby looked at Magolor with a frightening face. Magolor nodded many times over. “I know that! I’ve turned over a new leaf. I don’t lie anymore.” “Then let’s set out pronto. Lead me to where the friend disappeared.” “Sure thing! ......Huh? What about you guys?” Magolor looked at King Dedede and Meta Knight. Without dropping their guard, the two glared at Magolor with a harsh look. Magolor shrugged his shoulders. “You guys ain’t coming......even when Kirby’s lending me his strength?” “Hmph! I’m not a Mr. Nice Guy like Kirby. I have no faith in those words of yours!” King Dedede folded his arms and turned away. Magolor said with sighs mixed in. “I see......that’s unfortunate......although my friend is really rich and open-handed......” “......What?” “I think he’ll repay his lifesaver very handsomely......he would treat you with a dream-like banquet prepared......” “A banquet......you say?” King Dedede gulped. Magolor turned his back on King Dedede. “There’s no helping it......then the feast will be for Kirby only......I wonder if Kirby could eat it all by himself......?” “I sure can~! Whatever the feast is, I can slurp it all in one go! Relax, Magolor!” With his eyes sparkling, Kirby spun once in midair. The last bit of doubts left deep in his heart were blown off with the word “feast.” Grabbing Magolor’s hand, Kirby was ready to start dashing at any moment “Let’s hurry up and go, Magolor! A feast, a feast! “My friend comes before the banquet!” “I know that! We’ll have a feast party after rescuing your friend~!” “Hold it!” Jumping out in a hurry, King Dedede stood in Kirby’s way. “You’re gonna leave me behind!?” “Step aside, King Dedede. You don’t believe in what he says, right?” “I changed my mind, since I’m a kind-hearted king. I can’t leave a troubled fellow be!” “You don’t need to come.” “You won’t stand a chance in the Dimension Mirror without my strength!” “I said there’s no need to come.” King Dedede and Kirby got on the Lor Starcutter, as if elbowing each other out. Magolor let out a soft giggle, and suddenly shifted his focus to Meta Knight.

His attitude unchanged, Meta Knight is glaring at him quietly. “I knew that you won’t believe in me. How cold, Meta Knight.” “......” “Well, it’s fine. There’s nothing to fear with Kirby with King Dedede together. I have no need for your strength. Toodle-oo!” Magolor turned his body and quickly boarded the Lor. Leaving the grounds of Dream Land, the Starcutter was steadily rising up. Waddle Dee whispered as he looked up at it. “It’s a little fishy......I can’t trust what he says.” “It’s natural. Magolor is a liar and a wizard. There isn’t a single truth to his words.” Meta Knight said resentfully. “Kirby cares for his friends more than anymore. He took advantage of that nature of his and moved his heart. Since something like friendship doesn’t work for King Dedede, he lured him with talks of food. He led them by the nose after learning the two’s nature thoroughly. I don’t like his way of doing things.” “How awful......taking advantage of Kirby’s kindheartedness!” His face seeping with anger, Waddle Dee scowled at the Lor that was becoming smaller and smaller. “Sir! That Magolor really is fishy. We can’t just leave it like this!” “......I wouldn’t want to be involved in their affairs,” Meta Knight sighed a little. “But, as you said, I can’t leave it be. I couldn’t care for what happens to Kirby and King Dedede, but I am concerned about what Magolor is up to.” Looking up at the sky, Meta Knight glared at the Lor that became as small as a sesame seed. “Let’s go, Waddle Dee. I ask you to not let your guard down. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Magolor is the most crafty in the universe.” Turning on his heels, Meta Knight headed to the Battleship Halberd moored nearby as he said. “Right, sir!” Waddle Dee nodded firmly and followed after him.

The Halberd caught up to the Lor Starcutter in no time. Magolor and the others were right in the middle of a strategy meeting by the time Meta Knight and Waddle Dee came on board. Kirby was, of course, glad to have the two joining them, but Magolor ignored the pair. “You guys are well aware of the Dimension Mirror, right?” In the meeting room of the Lor Starcutter, Magolor explained while walking about restlessly. “That mirror has a power to project someone’s wish and make it a reality. It’s bound to be in the Mirror World, but my friend happened to get his hands on it......” “Happened to? What do you mean? How did your friend hold of the Dimension Mirror?” He questioned pointedly, where Magolor paused and turned around in an ill humour. “Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking......to begin with, why did you get on the Lor, Meta Knight?” “Change of heart. More than that, answer the question. Dimension Mirror isn’t someone that can be obtained that simply. Just how did he......” “Beats me. I wonder if he just picked it up? Anyhow, my friend got ahold of the mirror and showed it to me first. He’s my closest friend!” “Did you ask for anything to the mirror?” Asked Kirby. Magolor shook his head and spreaded both his hands. “I had no time for that......as me and my friend was talking, the mirror started shining suddenly, and swallowed up my friend in the blink of an eye!” Magolor shivered as if looking back that time. “I was so scared! The mirror swallowed up my friend, clouded up in pale white, and didn’t display anything at all!” “The Dimension Mirror......” “Uh-huh. I lost all my strength. I had no idea what I should do......so I decided to borrow you guys’ strength!” “Where is the Dimension Mirror right now?” Asked Meta Knight, where saying “Over here,” Magolor beckoned everyone and started walking. The automatic door opens, where a dim hall was on the opposite side. Placed in the center of the empty hall is a large mirror. It’s a mystical mirror wreathed in ornaments resembling gold-colored wings.

As Magolor said however, the mirror’s surface was fogged up in pure white. Just like a lake with its surface frozen over. Without lowering his guard, Meta Knight said as he laid his hands on his sword. “So this is the Dimension Mirror? It does look like it on the surface, but......I can’t sense the mystical power that that mirror is sure to have. That’s funny......” “But it did swallow up my friend!” Magolor drew his body back in a terrified manner. “I had no idea what I should do, so......I at least brought the mirror here.” “Your friend is trapped inside this mirror, huh.” Kirby trotted up to the mirror. Waddle Dee warned him in a hurry. “Be careful, Kirby! It’s not safe to approach it carelessly!” “No problemo! Looks like its power is gone, just as Meta Knight said. I can’t feel anything.” Kirby peered into the mirror. The white, foggy mirror isn’t reflecting anything. “This isn’t a mirror but a white plate of glass in this way......I wonder what happened to the Dimension Mirror......” Kirby gently laid his hands on the surface of the mirror. Just then: The foggy mirror regained its sparkle in no time. Kirby’s surprised face was reflected in the mirror. “Hu......Huh? The mirror is......?” Kirby raised his voice in astonishment. Simultaneously, as if being pulled by his display in the mirror, Kirby was dragged into the mirror! “Ahhhhh!?” Kirby’s shout was cut off in the middle. “Kirby!?” By time Waddle Dee screamed, Kirby was nowhere in sight. Meta Knight muttered in blank amazement. “What is the meaning of this......is the Dimension Mirror asking for Kirby’s strength? Just why......” Magolor jumps up and shouts aloud. “This is awful! This is the same as the time with my friend! My friend was also engulfed by the mirror like this! Is Kirby all right? I’m worried to death!” “......You seem quite happy for what you’re saying, Magolor.” Meta Knight pointed out, where Magolor shook his head in haste. “What’re you saying? That’s not what is. Shake a leg, everyone! You’ve got to save Kirby!” “Hmph, you're not the boss of me! You go first since you said it!” King Dedede seized Magolor firmly by the neck and flung him forcefully at the mirror. “Eh......wahhhhh!? What are you doing, you hooligan!!!!!?”

Magolor vanished, as if being swallowed up by the mirror. Dusting his hands, King Dedede went towards the mirror as well. Waddle Dee spoke to him nervously. “Your Highness, are you going to jump into this mirror......?” “You betcha. I can’t stand the thought of Kirby hogging the feed all to himself. You can stay here, Waddle Dee. You won’t be of any use anyways.” “No, I’ll go too, sir! I’m worried for Kirby......” Waddle Dee realized suddenly and buttoned his lips in mid-sentence. King Dedede glanced down at Waddle Dee. “Worried? What’d you mean?” “N......No......that’s......” “I had a feeling it was fishy for quite a while now. You wouldn’t happen to have got along with Kirby behind my back, did you......?” “N-No way! I meant that......I’m worried about Kirby hogging the feast all to himself!” “You mean it?” “Of course, sire. Kirby is my enemy! That jerk dares to rise against Your Majesty!” “Good, good, there you go.” His suspicion cleared, King Dedede turned back to the mirror. Waddle Dee sighed in relief. Waddle Dee and Kirby are very close with each other, but that’s a secret to the king. Dedede sees Kirby as a rival and would bicker with him one way or another. He’s bound to burst enough blood vessels to destroy Castle Dedede if he finds out that he and Kirby are actually friends. (Since it’s Kirby we’re talking about, I have faith that he’s all right......but just don’t get hurt!) Waddle Dee prayed secretly in his heart. King Dedede looked back at Meta Knight behind him. “What are you gonna do, Meta Knight?” “It can’t be helped. I’ll go with you.” “Hmph, I won’t let you have the feeds even if you follow me!” “Don’t lump me with you. I only wish to shed some light on the mirror.” Meta Knight swiftly rushed into the mirror with the word. As though losing to him means trouble, King Dedede also plunged into the mirror in a hurry. Waddle Dee cannot resist either. Though he couldn’t help but be scared, he shut his eyes and boldly ran into the mirror.

Next chapter

Table of contents

#kirby novels #kirby of the stars #light novel #translation #kirby #waddle dee #king dedede #meta knight #magolor

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid 193

193 When Lance fell asleep, their roles had reversed. Keith calling Shiro to check in, after overhearing how they hadn’t really talked to anyone. The conversation with his brother wasn’t that long due to him not wanting to leave Lance. Knowing Krolia, whatever advice she’d given him was probably shit, though, as Lance had said, his mother was probably the closest person he could turn to advice for this. Coran may have had a pretty interesting past, but as far as Keith knew, he’d never been on the end of being pregnant. Pidge... wasn’t exactly maternal, and Allura... was Allura. She’d make a good mother... in her own way. Maybe this trip would have been better if they’d invited the others? Not so much Rieva and Matt, but Pidge and Hunk. “Keith?”Hearing Lance call his name, he forced himself out the bathroom. It was now closer to dusk than to dawn. Lance had needed time to cry out his frustrations“Hey, beautiful. How are you feeling?”“Better... thirsty... and sorry”Sorry because they hadn’t been to see his dad yet... Keith was slightly annoyed by that fact, but not mad. Lance hadn’t asked for his ego to start being a pain in the arse, and with all the stress he’d been putting himself under, he really needed the rest“Do you want some blood?”“We didn’t do my injection”Fuck. He hadn’t thought of that“Do you want to go the bathroom, and I’ll get it organised?”“Okay” It felt like nothing now to draw a bit of blood for Lance’s injections. The fear of the curse had lessened. Lance would have never tried to feed off Matt or Rieva, even in a desperate situation. But whether it be luck, or Lance’s own curse, it seemed to kill the werewolf curse before it could turn their twins. Maybe Lance had a point about some of their more careless activities? They shouldn’t be able to stand being in the same room, they both shared moments with their egos that really hurt, but he hadn’t been thinking of his own safety since turning. Just the safety of everyone they called family. Coming back from the bathroom, Lance sat beside him on their bed. Resting his against Keith’s shoulder, he sighed softly “Okay... inject away”The injection always only took a moment. In, inject, out, then Lance would rub at the healing mark. His boyfriend sighing again, overthinking things“You needed to let it out”“I know. I feel like I’ve brought the whole mood down and I hate it. You must be starving”Yep. He was. His metabolism was something crazy. The amount of food he consumed was frankly scary“I’m okay. Here, have some blood and we can think about getting something to eat”“I thought I had this planned. You know? We’d have breakfast, than go see your dad. Clean his grave up. Talk to him... A mental breakdown wasn’t scheduled”“Are they ever? Did mum help?”“She’s no Mami when it comes to advice. She said to chuck my fear out the window”Keith snorted“Right. Because it’s totally that easy. Was she okay?” They didn’t know if she was coming or not. Not with her work schedule. Keith kind of hoped she would, yet she’d made indications of it. Like, would he even recognise his father’s grave? And what did he say? “Yeah. She was her usual self. I called her for advice, but I know she was disappointed it wasn’t you”“Nah. She loves you. I think she even likes you better than me”“She’s your mum. She loves you. She’s pretty worried how this is affecting you. I could tell”“I’m okay... kind of. I’m getting there. Umm... Nothing time with my beautiful boyfriend won’t fix” Lance groaned at him“Babe, you don’t have to try so hard. It’s okay. I’m hardly beautiful... I’m like... the very definition of a wreck right now”“You’ll be okay. Here, wrist or um... neck?”“Wrist... sorry... it’s just easier in this position”“Don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry”He’d noticed something. Lance only liked to feed on his neck when they were making out or in the heat of things. His fingers when Lance was trying to be quite mid do“I am. I love you so much. So so much. I neglected your safety... and you’re still being... so good to me”“Idiot. I love you. Your hunger won’t last forever. I should have gotten some blood into while you slept... it’s bad to let your... um... levels drop”“I’ll be okay. They’re still okay... I think one of them tried to break my rib when I was in the bathroom” Keith loved hearing the twins were moving. Even when it was uncomfortable for Lance, he felt like he was hearing cute stories he wouldn’t be able to forget. He didn’t think he had the patience to be pregnant... which only made him prouder of strength Lance showed“They take after you. All silent and deadly”“Babe, I’m not a fart”Keith hadn’t thought of that, chuckling as he shook his head“I know. You smell awful in a good way. Not like my lactose farts”“Eh. They’re part of you. A couple of wads of tissue up my nose and you’d never tell”“I’ll remember that for next time. Here, eat something. Don’t be afraid if you need a little more” That was something else Keith noticed. Lance took care with the amount of blood he took from him, but the volume seemed like it would be a lot for a human. Very rarely he felt light headed, questioning if he’d be conscious if he was still human. He’d never tell Lance. He’d freak out immediately, plus fluids and a good meal had him back in shape in no time. Lance moaned as he bit into Keith’s wrist, reminding him he’d have to make more of an effort. Maybe it’d be for the best if he ran an IV line for Lance tonight, just to get his hunger knocked on the head completely. Pulling off, Lance lapped at the trails of bloodied spit left on Keith’s arm. The wounds starting to heal instantly“Better?”Catching a few small beads pushed out by the healing wound, Lance hummed “Mmm... I know this isn’t comfortable for you”It shouldn’t have been hot, but it was. It stroked his pride to provide for their boyfriend the one thing he needed above all else“I’m fine, babe. As long as you’ve had enough”“Yeah... I’m good. I’m still sorry. I think I’ve been taking more and more of late”“Nah, it’s fine. But I was thinking we should probably set you up with an IV later, seeing how little you ate today. You need to keep your fluids up”“But keeping my fluids out means I have to pee”Whining at him, Lance was too cute“I love you and your walnut sized bladder anyway”“I think it’s more like a grape at this stage. I’m sorry my ego chuckled a wobbly... and that we spent most of today in bed”“There’s nothing more that I love, than spending the day in bed with you”“Pervert. I’m serious though. I don’t want to be scared like that. I want to see where you grew up. I want to know everything about you. All of it”“You might not like all of it”“I don’t know. I think we both know that I’m like crazy stupid in love with you and all those little things that drive me crazy only make me love you more” Keith groaned softly. He’d become weak to Lance. Last real story he had left to share with his boyfriend was the night Shiro saved his arse. Lance knew most of it. Keith couldn’t remember what he’d told him, nor was he sure why he’d never told him all of it. Being on the streets had taken a toll, and the thought of a warm bed and decent shower left him going with people he already knew were no good for him. They’d offered him a good time when he’d been so completely done with fighting to be alive“Alright. How about we go get dinner and figure things out from there”“Mmmm... sounds good to me. Let me change, then we’ll go”“I probably need to freshen up too”“I hate to say it but we both kind of stink” From sweat. Under the blankets left them both sweating in their sleeps. Lance smelt deader than ever, with Keith not far off. Personally he didn’t mind stinking of Lance, but Lance felt like he needed to do more to protect Keith with things like being careful with his scent“Want to take first shower while I look for somewhere good to eat?”“Sounds like a plan... I... don’t know if I’ll freak out again”“It’s okay. If you do, we can totally go. I know we’re here to see my dad, but your safety and comfort comes first. I don’t want you to think you have to hide things from me”“I know. I won’t take too long”“Don’t go rushing. The last thing we need is for you to slip. That sounded harsher than what I meant”Lance shook his head at him“It’s okay, we both know I’m a klutz. I’ll be careful. We’ve come this far. I’m not about to risk them”“I’m worried about you, too. I don’t want you being hurt”“I’ll be fine... Let me freshen up, then you can take me out for dinner” Lance kissed Keith’s wrist where he’d fed. Keith couldn’t believe the passage of time since meeting Lance had moved so fast. It must have been a year now, or very close to a year. This time last year, he’d have thought himself turned and cursed with a single bite. The Blades really did teach some total bullshit when he stopped to consider all of things he hadn’t thought of before. He’d been such a dumb arse. Luckily he had Lance to set him straight... or not so straight... though he wasn’t sure what he was as it was Lance he loved and not only his physical body. Realising how easily he could fall into an internal debate over all of that, he gave a shake of his head. Lance said he’d let him take him to dinner, so that’s what he was going to do. *Holding Keith’s hand, the freshness of the night felt nice against Lance’s skin. Keith either hadn’t bothered looking up somewhere else to eat, or he’d been trying to please Lance, resulting in dinner at the same restaurant they’d had breakfast at. This time Lance figured out what was wrong with the place. As they’d finished dinner, the waitress had come to collect to their plates, on her arm balanced by the nozzle was a bottle of orange scented surface spray. Being a public restaurant, smells of all sorts bombarded his senses from the moment they walked. With so many scents, he hadn’t consciously noticed the orange surface spray. The fact that Sendak still held such a hold over him left Lance unable to enjoy his meal. The atmosphere of the restaurant was good, Pidge would have loved the idea of sneakily signing them up for the weekend Karaoke competition, then abusing everyone heckling her over bad singing... He missed those days. He missed not being pregnant and not fearing his scent. Heck, he missed ghost hunting. He missed watching Pidge get super enthused as Hunk prayed for it all to be over. The restaurant was the kind of place he could see himself having a few quite drinks had the place been in Garrison. The kind of place that Sal’s had been to them before he’d had to hideaway his changing body. The Lord knew he was looking forward the day they could all go out again. He was going to order the biggest, greasiest, slimiest, cheesiest pizza in existence. Maybe even have Sal get some cigarette ash in there for that true diner flavour... “Want to take a walk?”No. Maybe... He wanted to go home to bed... but he’d spent the day in the hotel room. Staring past Keith, the stars twinkled over the town as if trying to say that nothing bad could ever happen here, which was a bold faced lie if ever there was one. Keith drew strength from the moon, and both of them had eye sight sharp enough to walk around in the dark safely enough... plus... it’d give them time to get the layout of the town down... His boyfriend seemed to be oblivious to internal wavering, Lance wondering if this was his way of easing into things he either wanted to tell, or easing into seeing his father... or even a chance to cover his arse when Shiro asked how much of the town they’d gone out and seen“Sure. There’s a park a few blocks down. I saw it on the town map”“You saw a town map?”“Did you really not look this place up at all? They have a similar lay out to Garrison, which makes sense in a way... they were both trade posts at some time, though I’ve got not idea what they could have pulled out of all the sand”“I didn’t even know that much. It’s like... all I remember is the shack... all of it feels like being on another planet”Lance slid his hand into Keith’s “It’s a good thing I’m here to keep you grounded. Don’t even think about packing your bags for another planet. You’re not leaving me behind”“I’m sure that if I ever got spirited away into space, you’d be right there with me”“Yep. Probably screaming my head off the whole time too”“I think I would be too. Let’s go, I’ll follow your lead”“Don’t you always?” Keith kissed his cheek. Lance blushing lightly as his boyfriend replied “yep”, followed by two more kisses on his cheek. Lance would follow Keith to the ends of the Earth, with Keith just as happy to follow him instead. Unless one of them made the decision, they’d be following each other around in circles for the rest of their lives... That didn’t actually sound too bad... Walking down to the park, the town had a nice vibe to it. Lance felt bad for whoever was in charge of cleaning the park’s rubbish bin after his dinner decided to make a reappearance before they’d reached the toilets towards the middle of the park. Cleaning up, and using the facilities, the pair of them settled themselves down on the swings. It’d been months since he’d been on a swing set, in Cuba, yet it had to be longer for Keith. Dragging his feet in the sand to make a heart, he supposed they looked like a couple of kids up to no good. He’d seen enough memes that he knew adults missed swing sets, and he knew he definitely counted in their ranks. Pushing off lightly, the chain creaked under his weight. A memory of Veronica coming to mind from back when having a baby brother that was a vampire was something cool. He’d wanted to go higher and higher, the pegs of the swing set shaking, so Luis and Marco held it down as he swung as high as he could get. He’d been sure if he’d gotten a little higher he could have looped the chain around the top, but Papi had lost it at the four of them“You seem happy”“Mmm. I like swings”Letting the swing slow naturally, Lance grinned at his boyfriend mischievously. They had the whole playground to themselves “What about you? What’s your favourite piece of playground equipment?” Keith hummed. He’d been making a mound between his shoes, trying to keep the sand from slipping back down “I hate the monkey bars”“Oh? What’d they ever do to you?”“A shit kid at one of the families threw a rock at me because I could pull myself up to sit on top of them. It hit me in the head and I fell off backwards”“Wow. That kid sounds like a wanker”Keith nodded, expression semi serious “They were. I got in trouble for falling off”“That’s kind of what kids do though. They play and climb... it’s what kids are supposed to do”Keith sighed, before shaking his head“It doesn’t matter now. I can’t even remember their face, let alone why they through the rock”“They were probably jealous because you’re so much cooler than them. I bet you were a totally rad kid. I wish I’d known you then” Lance didn’t think about what he’d said. He felt like kicking himself as Keith mumbled “Right. The fucked up orphan no body wanted was a “rad kid””“Hey. No. No. That is not on you. Not at all. Adults are supposed to be there and be the strong ones. Not kids. I sincerely wish I could lord over every single person who hurt you, how fucking amazing you are”Keith gave a scoff of disbelief. Lance saddened that his boyfriend’s anxiety had gotten to him this badly. Climbing off his swing, the vampire wrinkled his nose at the sand pouring into his shoes as he moved to stand behind Keith“What are you doing?”“I’m going to push you?” Wasn’t that obvious? He’d waddled his pregnant arse all the way behind Keith. The only logical conclusion was he was going to push him on the swing“You don’t have to”“Maybe I want to? Maybe I want to play in the park because there’s no one else around. No bad scents. No blood. No spirits. No yucky feelings other than the sand under my socks...”“It is a nice park”“Right? Now, hold on” Pushing Keith on the swing, Keith gradually loosened up, even starting to laugh as Lance backed off and watched“You can do it, babe!”“I’m totally going to jump off, you know that, right?”“It’s like an unwritten law of swinging, seeing how far you can jump”“I think I have an advantage...”“Doesn’t matter. I’m totally challenging you to a swing off once these two are born”“That’s not fair, you’ve got wings”Lance huffed. They had a mind of their own, much like the rest of his body “Which are mostly useless. I can’t even fly around as a bat”“That’s fine. Ready?”“Go for it!” Keith jumped a little too soon, half faceplanting in the sand. With the way he landed, Lance rushed to his side to find his boyfriend laughing“Are you okay?”“I fucked that up”Kicking Keith lightly in the side with the toe of his shoe, his boyfriend rolled over, smiling like an idiot. Lance’s heart had stopped with the way Keith landed, now the idiot was smiling so happy he felt all warm inside “You had me worried!”“I guess I’m not that great at sticking the landing”“You weren’t that great at jumping. You went before the swing was at the right height!”“You make it sound like you’re training me for the Olympics” Channeling the best sports commentator voice he could, Lance’s voice wobbled slightly as he tried not to laugh at how funny he was“You don’t get at a ten-point-zero for your landing. Zero style. Very simplistic. Could this spell the end for Keith Kogane’s budding career before he even goes professional?”Keith laughed. A proper unguarded laugh. Lance feeling the luckiest man in the world to hear it “I’m being serious!”“Uh huh. Sure you are. You know, the stars are really pretty. I feel like I can see them way better than before”“That’s because all your senses increased. Werewolves and vampires are kind of night creatures”“I still don’t know how to turn into a wolf. I don’t know if it counts”“It totally does... Now, are you getting up? Or should I pick you up in the morning?”Keith patted the sand next to him“You could come down here”“Or you could come up here... I’m too pregnant to deal with sand”“Fair point. We have the whole park to ourselves... I don’t think I’ve ever really... just... you know...” That Keith hadn’t played on a playground saddened Lance. Even as an adult, playgrounds were still fun. With no one around to watch them, there was no point being responsible adults“You know, there’s a slide over there... and a flying fox...”“Babe...”Keith tried to dismiss the idea, Lance using “boyfriend” which proved very effective. Damn Pidge. She’d gone and put that back into his head at her birthday party“Come on, it’ll be fun. I mean, I probably can’t use the spinner, not unless you want to scramble the twins, but the slide never gets old”“Fine, but if we get in trouble, you’re taking the blame”Lance shrugged. They weren’t violating any laws that he knew of. They weren’t intoxicated. Nor were they committing property damage or trespassing“The lawyer in me tells me it’s going to be okay”“I’ll remember that when I get my one phone-call”“You better. Though it would be a conflict of interest to represent you, so let’s not get in trouble?” The did indeed get into trouble. Keith got wedged in the kids slide, and Lance was too tall for the flying fox, so that was disappointing. They were still messing around when the lights of a cruiser flashed red and blue, the two of them called over by a police officer who looked unable to catch them, even if they had been human. Swallowing down his fear, Lance took Keith by the hand, walking him over to the officer when Keith kept telling him they should run. Getting closer, the man clearly didn’t expect two fully grown adults to be playing in the park so late at night. “Officer, how are you tonight?”Putting on an air of responsibility, Lance felt he’d be the more convincing adult of the pair of them“I had a call about teenagers mucking around in the park. Want to tell me about it?”Keith snorted with laughter, Lance stepping on his foot to shut him up“That was us, sir. I’m sorry if we created a disturbance. We’re on holiday, you know, before the twins come, and wanted to have a little fun. I had no idea we we’re causing a disturbance” Keith tried to muffle his laughter, Lance mentally rolling his eyes at his boyfriend who was clearly upsetting the police officer. Huffily, the man asked“So I’m not going to find any of that junky paraphernalia you young people are into these days?”“No, sir. I know we might look young, but I’m 46 and my boyfriend here is 28. No drugs, or alcohol, sir”The man looked them up and down, Lance waited for something along the lines of “I wouldn’t lie to a police officer, if I was you”. Instead the man sighed“Look. You can’t be playing in the park at midnight. You’re obviously not locals. You staying at the hotel?”“Yes, sir. My boyfriend is a photographer, we’re travelling to work on his portfolio. Sorry. We wanted to have a little fun with no one around”“I’ll have you save that sort of fun for a more appropriate environment. Get in the back, I’ll give you both a ride back”Lance immediately shook his head“We’re both able to walk back...”“That wasn’t an invitation. We get a lot of blow ins for this damn Easter festival the town insists on having. The last thing I need is the pair of you thinking your entitled to cause trouble. Get in” Lance felt like a scolded school child as he did as he was told, Keith sliding in beside him, though his boyfriend still thought they should run. Clipping their belts in obediently, Lance bit his bottom lip. Maybe they’d gotten carried away? He didn’t think they were being too loud. All they’d been doing was acting like idiots. They hadn’t damaged any property... plus Keith had gotten on the spinner, which had been hilarious given how much strength he could put into a spin. His boyfriend had gotten off with shaky legs, tripped, fell in the grass and burst out laughing. Lance knew he should stay quiet, but this was a golden chance“Excuse me, have you been an officer here very long?”The man met his eyes before pulling away from the park curb“Long enough” Damn. He wasn’t giving him anything“Do you happen to know anything about the fire that took place here about 20 years ago?”Keith’s heart started racing harder. Yeah. He should have been considerate about Keith’s feelings, but this was like the perfect chance“Oh, I know about that fire alright. One dead. 250,000 dollars worth of damages. I don’t know why you’re bringing that up, but you’re best dropping it. A lot of people were hurt by that incident. Damn candle left unattended. The place went up faster than a whore’s knickers drop”“If one wanted to know about the fire, is there a local registrar office?” The office pressed the breaks suddenly, instead of gently stopping at the stop sign“Look. I’m sure you’re nice... whatever you are. But what happened that day is no laughing matter. We lost one of our own that day. It’s an ugly scar on the history of this town and I won’t have the pair of you treating it like a joke”Whelp. He’d gone and made him angry“I mean absolutely no disrespect. It’s such a horrible thing to have happened. When you saw you lost one of your own, I assume you mean an officer?” Resuming driving, the man sighed at him as if he was stupid, their eyes meeting again in the rear view mirror “No. Not an officer. One of our local fire fighters. They tried to stop the blazing jumping house, when the second floor came down. Horrible tragedy. We lost a fine man that day”“Did you know him?”“Aye, we all did. Bit of a loner. Kept to himself, especially after his missus skipped town. Heeee... had a boy from memory. Hard worker though. That boy... he was tiny thing of a kid. Still, he gave everything he could to that boy. He ended up vanishing, just like his mother. Couldn’t tell ya where she went. Up and vanished as suddenly as she appeared here. No idea how the pair of them met, and before we knew it, she was up the duff, then gone a couple of years later. Couldn’t handle the stresses of being a parent, if you ask me anything about it”“And all of this is public record?”“Bits and pieces. Look. I won’t tell you again, losing Joe hurt a lot of people here. He was a good man. Kind of man you never really knew what was thinking. But when he saw his boy, he’d light up like a goddamn Christmas tree. Loved that kid, he did. He was real torn up when his woman shot through, but never blamed his boy. We often used to wonder what happened to that kid, ah, but I suppose it’s one of those things you’d never know” The officer was letting his accent show. Keith seemed on the edge of tears“Say we didn’t want to drop it, is there anyone from around there that we can talk to about it”The man fixed him with a glare“People move on. Dredging that up again is only going to cause pain. If I hear you two are stirring up trouble because your curious over something that is none of your business, I will escort you out of town meself” That mean there were indeed people out there who’d been around at the time of the fire and may remember Keith, and his father... and that the council office should have record that’d help them place the pieces of that day together. The last few minutes of the drive was in silence. The officer having to squidge himself out the door in order to open the back door of the cruiser to let them out. The man really didn’t know what to make of Lance, he got it. He looked like a woman and sounded like a man. Some people were so damn backwards that they couldn’t accept change. Lance still opting to be polite, on the off chance they crossed paths again “Thank you for the ride. We’re sorry we caused you trouble”“Don’t let it happen again. There’s laws about these kinds of things. Consider yourselves both lucky and warned”“Yes, sir. Thank you” As the police cruiser left, Keith collapsed against him, sniffling as tears rolled down his face. His boyfriend wrapping his arms around him with a little too much force“Babe?”“He... loved me”With his arms pinned, Lance could only raise his hand enough to pat Keith’s arm “Yeah, babe. He did. I’m sorry I didn’t ask if it was okay to ask, but the opportunity to know something more was right in front of us”“He... he still went back in... he...”“He loved you. He loved you, and I know I’m not him. I could never know what he was thinking, but I think all he wanted to do was stop the fire before more people were hurt”“He left me”“Not by choice. You heard that guy. He loved you. He adored you. And he was so proud to be your dad. You... you were loved. You are loved”“Can we go back to the room?”Lance’s heart was breaking for his boyfriend. Sure, they’d learned a little and tomorrow Lance wanted to hit up the council to dig up whatever he could on Keith’s father’s past, but right now...“I was thinking the same thing. I want to hold you”“Please?”“Always, babe. Always and forever” ReplyForward

#Once Bitten #once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #pregnant lance #klance #vld #bottom lance #vampire lance #werewolf keith #soulmates #voltron #mpreg #laith

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Thought about something cute like reader and 5sos singing on the same festival and she’s dating cal 😭 and they switch with her guitarist and drummer boy and at first she didn’t notice but they they start to have so much fun together at the stage dancing together and doing stupid shit them following her around as she tries to prevent herself from giggling too much and actually singing 🥺🥺 and later she walks down when 5sos are performing with crystal Kay and Sierra omg 😳

+ I’m sorry I’m annoying but part two to my last asks!! I just imagine calum being all heart eyes for her minding his own business tho playing his guitar but every time he doesn’t have to use vocals or his bass he caught her hand or keep her close and ahh singing wildflower to her!!’ When at first the girls just wanted to have fun on stage with them but Calum just keeps her close the whole time singing to her and her singing back with him and being all funny and giggly together ooof

Thanks for your suggestion! It took me a minute to get to it. I did combine it with a few other suggestions. One person asked for drama and someone asked for angst. And viola! Here it is.

This is the last part of the Distance series! I’ll do an epilogue if folks want to send in some suggestions for it! HUGE thanks to everyone that sent me ideas! This series wouldn’t be what is it without you guys! 

Find the Distance series masterlist here!  Here’s my main masterlist! CW: 18+ (Smut). Angst. Lots of Fluff. 

Songs I played: Woman and From The Dining Table by Harry Styles!

Here it is at a WHOOPINg 9.6k. Enjoy!

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The release of her album is followed by a tour. At first, she’s excited. Her mind runs wild with possibilities. Her fingers can’t keep up fast enough with every wonder and question she sends to Calum and thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind the incessant buzzing. He takes each question in stride. It’s nice, in a way, for him to have the wisdom to give her. Like she doesn’t have to go in blind like he did, especially since it’s just her. He hopes he can make her feel a little less alone on the road. It can be a hard road to travel alone.

 The glimmer starts to wear off fast. Rehearsals turn her into a zombie. She’s up fairly early stretching, taking her dog for a walk, trying to remind herself that everything’s going to fall into place like it needs to, but the second she walks into the rehearsal space it feels like everything is going to fall apart. That somehow everything she’s ever wanted on tour is just too much, too much out of the budget, too much because she doesn’t have the weight to her name just yet. And maybe it’s a lot of glitz and glamour. Maybe she is asking for too much. Maybe that would be her downfall. 

Her phone buzzes. And she pauses, sitting on the floor with her mic in hand, and glances over to it. It’s Calum again. Another message that she won’t actually read until some ungodly hour in the night. He’s got to be up to his throat in worry. She can’t seem to think enough to text him back during the day. Too much is going on. She feels like she’s going to sink, just through the carpeted floor and through the concrete foundation and bury herself into the dirt. Maybe that would be a better fate for her. 

She turns her attention back to her notebook, with the crude drawing she made when she was trying to set the stage. “Let’s just,” she sighs. “Let’s start from scratch.”

And it works. Though it’s long and arduous, she’s able to figure out how to set the stage, finalizing the neon design. There’s a rough draft at the video that will be playing behind her for a wardrobe change. By the time she’s able to crawl into her sheets, it’s nearly 1 am. There’s barely enough energy to keep her eyes open to send Calum an apology text. When she wakes, she grins at her dog waiting patiently at the side of her bed.  “Ready to go, bubs?”

They give a tiny whine and rest their snout on the covers. She laughs, “Yeah, you’re ready to go.” She manages to brush her teeth and slips into a change of clothes before going out for a run. 

Between showering and getting dressed, she checks her messages. Happy to hear that you got things straightened, baby. Reach out whenever you get a breather, reads the text from Calum. 

She responds with a good morning text and then switches over to her email. At the top is an email with ‘urgent’ in the subject. She’s praying it’s not more bad news. She doesn’t quite have the heart to withstand more bad news after the progress they made yesterday. It’s details about a festival date in LA. That perfectly lines between her break between the European leg of the tour and the North America dates. She doesn’t even think twice about agreeing to the festival show. 

Right as her day winds down, from a shockingly smooth day of rehearsals, Calum calls her. And though she’s drenched in sweat from the light choreography and running it for hours, she stops and answers. “Hey, baby.”

“Oh, she lives!”

“I know, I know. Sorry.”

“Only kidding. I know you’re hard at work. It’s just really good to hear your voice. How are rehearsals?”

“Really good now. Once we got over the hump, it’s like smooth sailing.”

“Good, I’m glad. I was calling. We got word a couple days ago about a festival show right when you’re on break between legs. And I was hoping you had some free time, just to hang out.”

She can’t contain the smile, leaning her head against the window. The evening twilight has already settled outside. “I’m joining that festival too. And we’ll be hanging out in LA for a few days for rehearsals and then shipping out. So absolutely, we can hang out. I miss your face. And Duke. God, I miss Duke.”

He laughs. Of course she emphasizes her longing for his dog over him. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I really can’t wait to see you.” It falls from his lips in a whisper, a secret between the two of them that no one else can be in on. But the boys see it. Everytime his phone buzzes he does his best to look at it as soon as he can just in case it’s her. It’s harder to get out of bed, especially when he hasn’t talked to her in a while. “Can’t wait to kiss you again.”

“You’re a sap, you know.”

“But I’m your sap.”

She giggles, softly, watching cars whizz by. “Yeah, you are my sap.”

_________________________________

Her tour starts off well. And even though it’s her first time being out on the road like this, a constant bouncing around, and completely flipping her normal routine, she manages to cope pretty well. And it helps of course when she calls her friends, or talks to her dog. But it’s still definitely draining, pouring every bit of herself out on stage and then having just enough time to recoup before doing it all over again. There’s value in it, when the lights lift, and she can see the crowd that’s gathered just for her. It’s surreal and makes her feel like she could do this all the time. That the only thing she’d ever need is the sound of a crowd singing her songs back to her. 

In her dressing room, she swaps the gold earrings for a pair of acrylic ones, these jade green. “You’re too quiet on me,” she says, flicking her gaze down to her tablet. 

Calum picks his head up. “It’s hard to say much when perfection’s staring you in the face.”

She grins, hooking the earring back on. “Thank you, but that’s not what I meant.”

“We just got word about two more festivals in the same week you have your break. One’s in LA still, the other one’s a little ways out.” There’s no need to fake the funk anymore, or hide it away. She has another three weeks of shows before her break. And maybe he expects her to fly off the handle. Maybe he expects her to throw a fit, about how they had made plans, and it’s the only time they’ll get for each other for months. 

But she doesn’t. She nods, fingers twirling over her rings. “What are they others saying?”

“They’re itching to get back on stage. And from a business standpoint, it’s money in the pocket of course. But I know we made plans and I feel like an ass. But there’s also the band, too.”

“Our jobs aren’t easy,” she sighs. “Take the gigs.” Calum can see her eyes tearing up just a little. “Mind if tag along on the LA show?”

“Of course not. I’m really, really sorry, buttercup. I’m so sorry.”

She waves her hand, trying to keep the tears back. If they fall, they become real. It’s his job. Just like it’s hers. “I get it.” It’s tight as it leaves her throat. And it takes her a second, plus a few sips of water to get control of her emotions, and clear out all the tears that threaten to fall. He wishes he could say more, or do more. But it’s like the words die in his throat. And he’s left, mouth gaping, wishing and wanting, but unable to do anything. 

“Does it look bad if I just forgo my heels tonight from the start? They’re killing my feet on stage,” she laughs. 

It’s a small grin, upturns a corner of his mouth but doesn’t keep it up for long. “You usually end up kicking them off anyway, halfway through the show.”

“Someone’s been scrolling through my name on Twitter, huh?”

He does. Watching her is mesmerizing and he’s sad that he can’t get the chance to see it in person, so he resorts to the fan videos. But he’s yet to admit to it. “I do not do such a thing.” And there’s giggles. A fit of laughter as she looks over the outfits and plucks her oversize denim jacket and figures even in the shorts, she can make the docs Calum surprised her with work. So she slides into the worn red leather shoes and starts lacing them up. 

Calum whistles, heart racing just a little. He didn’t know those shoes had made the cut. “Look at you.” 

She strikes a pose but laughs. “Do I look good?”

“You look fucking amazing, buttercup.” 

__________________________

The sound of the crowd roaring before her ears turn on will always make her heart race. Calum said he would try to sneak side stage, but considering that he had to play on the mainstage right after her set on the side stage, it might not be for long. She didn’t mind that. But she hadn’t seen him. Not a blond crop in sight, of course if he hasn’t changed his hair since the last time. Her bassist strums the opening cord and it sends the crowd into a tizzy. With her guitar strapped around, she rolls out her neck, lining up. 

As they walk out onto the stage, they launch right into the first song. She feels her fingers buzzing as she strums. But it feels good. The LA sun is hot but she kind of welcomes it versus the heat of the stage lights. There’s still a small breeze. It comes in waves for sure and she can tell that her pits are going to be soaked by song three. “How’s everybody doing?” she shouts into the mic. 

There’s cheer in response and she laughs, hearing it reverb for just a moment. “That’s what I like to hear. Just want to say thank you for coming to see me play today. Your support truly means a lot to me.”

She continues on for just a few more seconds and right as she goes to introduce the fourth song of her set, everyone in the crowd starts to get rowdy. She thinks nothing of it, as the song starts. But she knows something is happening and she turns to check her drummer and in her spin, there’s Calum, her bassist’s bass slung over his shoulder, fingers sliding over the frets, plucking at the strings. Not that she doesn’t think Calum would go for a mint green bass on his own, but she hasn’t seen one in his collection just yet. 

If it weren’t for the verse coming back up, she knows she would just stare. Singing into her mic, she throws a few glances over to him. Waiting as the harmony comes in and Calum slides up to the music, voice smooth in her inner ears, she almost melts right there on the spot. She hadn’t quite thought about the way his voice would sound with hers, but god, he harmonizes like an angel. She finishes the verse, with a small break before the chorus again. The stage is kind of small but while facing the crowd, she can’t quite see to her sides. 

She knows though. She can almost sense when Calum approaches her. She giggles just a little into the mic, watching him smile at her. His head bobbing like it always does when he gets into whatever he’s playing or listening too. Calum plays next to her, watching the way the sweat trails down her forehead, but doesn’t streak an ounce of her makeup. He almost gives in, almost bends in to kiss her on the cheek, but he doesn’t. He lets her voice and the song carry him away, into his spin and up to the drummer’s stand. One foot on the riser, Calum bobs along, laughing at his expression, the raised eyebrow that says it all. 

She gets a small break to watch the way Calum interacts with her band. Almost as if he’s known them just as long as she has. And in some ways, he probably has. She talks about Calum to them and talks about her band to Calum all the time.  Once the song ends, Calum throws one hand in a tiny wave, before smiling over at her. “Didn’t scare you, did I?” he asks, away from the mic. 

She shakes her head, sure that her cheeks will hurt after this. Laughing, she thanks Calum as he walks off stage. And she knows, she knows she shouldn’t. But she jogs after him, as her bassist comes back on, sending a smile over her shoulder too. It’s in that moment that it becomes clear, this was planned. Catching Calum right in the wings, she catches his wrist, tugging him in close before kissing him. It’s quick, but Calum’s heart races in his chest. She runs back out. “Sorry about that guys. I did not expect that.” 

And as they get back to their set, Calum watches her for one more song, the way she dances around the stage. Their gazes lock just before he leaves and he blows a quick kiss, before his security are running him down the stage steps and across the festival grounds to get back to the mainstage in time. “How’d it go?” Michael asks.

“Well,” Calum grins, throwing his brown and black bass over his shoulder. 

“Get any smooches?” Luke teases, smacking his lips together, while his arm is slung over Sierra’s shoulder. 

“And if I did?” 

“On stage?” Michael screeches. 

“No, side stage. I almost kissed her on stage. But I didn’t want that all over the internet.” Considering that they aren’t official publically in any capacity, it would just cause more headache. Their set begins and Calum knows she has to run across the festival, so he’s not worried when by the time they step out and get three songs in, she hasn’t shown up at the side of the stage. And by the time, Calum regains consciousness enough to check again, there she is, standing off to the side, still in what she performed and breathing hard but she waves, gently from the side. 

Out of reflex, once the chords are played, he gives a small wave in return. She returns the blown kiss from earlier and the other girls laugh softly at the action. “God, you guys are so fucking smitten with each other, it’s insane,” Sierra jokes.

There’s no denying it she knows. They’re like lovesick puppies and though it would normally annoy her, it’s nice. Without another word, she sips at her bottle of water and watches Calum, with all the laughs and grins he gives, pouring his soul out onto the stage. 

And though the video calls, and the calls, work. They’re not quite enough. Her tour comes to an end, but just around the corner is Calum’s tour with the band. She think she might be able to sneak another week away before she starts working on her album, but then she gets asked to perform at some more festivals in her home country. And, who is she to turn that down? The more shows she plays, the more her name is out there, the more streams, and the merchandise is purchased. It becomes an endless wheel. Things just keep going, and going, and going and the whole time, she keeps looking for the breaks. For the thing that can put her life on pause and let her feel normal again. 

Everytime she thinks she can get real time with Calum, it ends up short. He has something that comes up. She has something that comes in. It was the festival in LA and now her festival run. It’s his tour and her sophomore album. Why had she met Calum when she did? Was the universe playing a cruel joke on her? Was it taunting her that it could give her everything she wanted and then threatening to have it crumble? Sitting her hotel room, her phone shakes, another call from Calum. She doesn’t answer it, staring at the fridge in her room. She could get a drink. Wouldn’t be hard just take it from the mini fridge. 

Her phone stops shaking. And then a minute later, it chimes, letting her know that a voice message has been left behind. The third one and more likely than not it’s from Calum. She wants this. She wants the relationship, but lately, it felt like there was no time. There was no time for anything. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t pause. And that’s all she wanted. That’s all she wants right now. She doesn’t want to open that voicemail to Calum pleading with her to answer. She wants to get back to when things were easier. And obviously, they were easier because they both had nothing to do. 

Swiping her room key and her wallet, she heads down to the bar in the hotel. She orders herself a glass of wine. The glass makes a soft click as it settles down in front of her. She takes one sip. And it’s a little bitter, the red drier than she remembers it being. Soon the glass stares back at her and she can see her warped reflection. Would it just be easier for them to take things down a level? Is she afraid of hard work or more afraid of heartache?

With another two glasses of wine in her, she climbs back into the elevator and it takes her up, floor by floor until it digs and the doors slide open. The room is dark when she reenters like she left it the AC blasting. But she can see the blue light of her phone, on the desk, lighting up that corner of the room. Is it fair? If she wants to bolt, if she wants to cut ties so it makes things so much easier for them? Why couldn’t it be easy?

Calum’s sure he’s going to pull all his hair out. One moment, things are going good. They get a little tight for sure with their schedules never quite lining up to allow them more time together. But this is the third day in a row that he’s gone with nothing from her. No texts, not a returned call. Not even a meme in their Twitter thread. Nothing on her finsta. Her regular account post mainly about her upcoming shows. But he is as closed to being blocked without actually being blocked. 

“Hey, I-I don’t know if something’s gone wrong. But please, please call me back. Or text me. Or send me a voice message. Something. Anything. Please? If I did anything, please let know what it was? I’m worried. Am I losing you?”

He ends the recording and sends it. Maybe he ought to stop reaching out so much. Should he wait for her to respond before sending more? But he doesn’t want to lose her? He doesn’t want to lose what they have. He hasn’t found it with anyone else in all his searching and even in his not searching. This fell into his lap and he can’t stand to lose it. Not when there had to be something to do to save it. 

His phone sits for another day and half before she calls. He hands shake as he goes to answer it. He almost doesn’t want to answer it. His vegetable stir fry even threatens to come back up his throat. It’s not even burnt this time. But somewhere in his mind, somewhere deep, he had figured she wouldn’t ever call him back. He would be cursed to always wonder what went wrong. “Hey,” he breathes as he answers the call. 

“Hey.” It’s croaky, like she might’ve been crying. And then it’s silent. Neither one of them are sure how to bring it up. Neither of them know how to ask what’s lingering between the two of them seems almost too much for words.

“Did I do something?”

“No,” she sighs. It would be easier if he had. It would be easier if she had. It would be easier if both of them were just bad for each other. “It’s just hard.” 

“Talk to me. Let me in. We can figure it out.”

That’s the whole crux of her issue. She had let Calum in. She had let him so far in that it was starting to seem impossible to stay in her country and work. She had let him so far in that she wasn’t sure it would be possible to go months without seeing him properly. He was in everything, her bookshelves, her closet, her studio, her lyrics, her studio, in her sheets. Everything reminded her of him. And it just hurt in a way that she didn’t think being in love could hurt. In her silence, Calum continues on, “Let me look at something.” He scrolls through the emails, looking at the dates. 

“How? How do we figure it out? On your tour, the only break you have in my country I’m in promo. And after that, you only get a day here or there. Everything’s so mismatched now.” 

Calum blinks the tears that are stinging at his lower lash line. “Something’s gonna give.” Something has to give. There has to be something. Calum goes back to emails. What would be the magic code for them?

“I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

His throat jumps at her words, heart racing. “No, don’t say that. If you say that, I know what comes next.”

“Maybe it would just be easier, Calum.” 

He is sick of it. Sick of things always blowing up in his face. But he can’t make her do something. He can’t make her take the words back, even if he wants her too. “We said there was an us.” It’s not accusorary as it falls from his lips. It just hurts. Things were going so well for so long, until time proved herself the ultimate judge yet again. “So what now?” The walls of his house start to push in closer on him. 

“I’m not saying I never wanted more for us. I’m not saying that I want to cut you completely out of my life, Calum. I wanted so much more for us.”

“Me too. I want more for us.” 

“Is now a good time though? Is now going to allow us more?”

Calum wants to laugh, it bubbles in his chest and he knows it’s delivery would be dry but he swallows it back down. “If you’re always waiting for the perfect moment, you’ll be waiting for a long time.”

“Maybe there’s a better time for us. Not a perfect one. Just a better one.”

“Maybe,” he whispers. 

“You know, you’re in everything right? When you said to let you in, I couldn’t help but think that was my problem. You’re in my goddamn sheets. You’re in everything. When the sun rises, it’s like watching you smile. If you think I’m shutting you out, that I’m trying to save myself, I want you to know that I’m doing the exact opposite. I am drowning. In everything. In you. In whatever the fuck it means to be a musician. I am drowning and I can’t bear taking you down with me.”

He couldn’t possibly be in everything, not when she was in everything for him. In his journals, in the strings of his bass. When he sits down at a piano, he can’t help but think of the throaty notes that start the song she wrote about him. He can’t help but hear her voice, Brown irises and black tattoos. Maybe they were both drowning and couldn’t see anything but the water invading their own nostrils and lungs. “You’ll always be there,” Calum says, sniffling. The tears shock him, he hadn’t felt them until they’re running down his neck. He doesn’t even know where there is, but he feels it in the cavity of his chest.

_________________

That video is going to haunt him. And it’ll haunt her too. Whenever they see the videos and pictures of when Calum surprised her on stage it always shows just how fucking happy they were with each other. How things really were working for them. But right around the corner, right as she runs behind the edge of the stage, the world doesn’t see the kiss. They don’t see the tears that followed phone calls. They don’t see how schedules always seems to be running in parallel but never fucking intersectiong. That’s all they needed. Just one point to intersect, to meet again at, and maybe they would still be tagging each other in stupid memes. Maybe they would still be talking until crazy hours of the morning. Maybe they would still be writing small poems about each other and always posting them, but never saying who they were about. 

Maybe if they just had the one chance to intersect again, her second album wouldn’t be about him. Maybe she could’ve talked about the way the clouds surf in the sky. Maybe she would have pondered the questions of existence without it being tied up in lost love. Maybe Calum would’ve had more to say in interviews. Maybe then, no one would ask him about his love life and it wouldn’t hurt to goddamn bad every time one of the other boys would jump in to save him. Maybe Calum wouldn’t feel like a rock sinking to the bottom of the river and seeing the sunlight just above him, but never having the willpower to push back up. 

He hadn’t removed her number. Hadn’t unfollowed her on her finsta. Hadn’t blocked her on a goddamn platform. Because somehow that felt like a harsher step. Like a permanent close, like he was trying to erase who she was and what she had meant to him. It’s stupid, he knows. It’s insane and it’s not helping him in the slightest, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Maybe part of it was that natural and sometimes detrimental curiosity if that person was suffering just like you. He wanted to know if she bled just like him, if her pain was just as vicious as his. 

Calum watches the video loop back again. The way she bites her lower lip but runs after him. The crowd is still screaming. They are still cheering. They are still buzzing. After saving the tweet, he drafts a message to her: I know you’ve moved to New York. I hope you’re enjoying it. City makes you feel anonymous doesn’t it? I have two days off during this tour. Maybe we have our better time now? I’m sure by now you know all the best places in town for pizza. I could be down for some cheesy delights. 

Should he send that? His fingers shake. What’s left for them after a year and a half? They’ve still supported each other. He retweets about all her singles and videos. She praises the band’s new music in interviews. They aren’t unknown to each other. But somehow they feel like two ghosts. There’s a glass wall between and they look at each other just in passing. They never touch. They never intersect again. Instead, he exits the messaging app, but doesn’t actually delete the words. 

When he goes back to the message thread, about a week from their dates in New York, there’s no shock that the app hasn’t saved it. And he feels partially relieved. He exits the app again and goes back to his mindless scroll through Instagram. An app saved him this time. 

There is nothing to save him though, when he walks into the green room and spies her shrugging a coat on. The New York mornings are a little cool to the start. His heart is now in his throat. He’s not sure if he should swallow it back down. “We can go,” Ashton says quietly, taking him back his arm gently.

And somehow, like her ears are tuned in on everything, she hears something like her name, something like a soft wisp of a voice. When she looks up and sees Calum, donned in all black, though his long lined jacket has some white stitching and embroidery, she’s sure she could melt into the floor. He still looks good. Still has the same quiet pout to his face that makes him look slightly less approachable but it changes in a heartbeat when he smiles. She grabs the strap to her bookbag purse. 

She knows it was her that ended things. She knows that seeing Calum here in front of her, should make her feel embarrassed. But somehow, all she wants to do, all she’s ever wanted to do since that phone call is embrace him one last time. Tell him that he’s still handsome as ever. Promise him that she meant what she said, that he was and still is in everything. “C’mon. We gotta go,” her security tell her. 

But all she can do is stare at Calum. Unzipping her purse, she finds the note, the letter she never had the courage to send him and with a deep breath, she walks over. Ashton looks like he could probably murder her. And she doesn’t blame him. She could never blame that instinct to protect the ones you love especially from the ones that hurt them the most. “I’m sorry,” she says, holding out the white envelope. “For everything. And if we don’t ever get that better time, know I’d only ever wish the best for you.”

Calum’s fingers barely grasp onto the note before she’s sidestepping him. The boys circle around him, like they’re just waiting for his word to pounce. She steps through the heavy glass door. And she’s leaving him again. She’s going to slip through his fingers. Again. Pushing through Luke and Michael, Calum swings open the door. “Wait!” he calls out. 

She stops, spinning on her heels to face him again. Calum jogs down the corridor. All the offices have windows. Everyone is probably watching. With both hands cupping her face, letter between his fingers and all, he pulls her in close. “You’re not leaving me again. You’re not going to walk out my life a second time. Not without me putting up a hell of a fight.”

“You shouldn’t fight for me. Not after what I did.”

“Meet me tonight. Let’s actually talk about it. I’ve been holding so much inside and if, god forbid, if it’s not now if we had our shoot and we fucking blew it, at least I’ll know for sure.”

“Does 8 work for you?” She tries so hard not to wrap her hands around his wrist, not to slide it up his forearms and tug herself into his chest. And god, he still smells the same. Old Spice and Gain. It feels so right to press herself into his chest. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles into the top of her head. It’s still the same scent as before in almost two years, he can’t even believe it.

She takes a step back, patting at her pockets and pulls out a pen. Pulling the envelope from his fingers, she scribbles down a name and address. “If this place is too far from your hotel, just call me.” He watches her, jotting down more numbers. “It’s my new US number.” While handing the infor back to him, she grins just a little. “Don’t lose it now.”

Calum laughs, remembering the first time she delivered that line to him. “I won’t. Promise.”

Dear Calum, 

There’s no real way to say this that doesn’t make my chest feel like it’s been punched  in. I shouldn’t have let you go. There was a way to make it all work. There was a way so that you and I could’ve pushed through. I was just too scared of things going too right, going too well. Maybe that sounds dumb. Or maybe that sounds insane. But the truth of the matter, I messed up. I’m sorry. And you don’t have to ever forgive me. You deserve the ability to move on. You deserve everything good that comes to you in the future. I want you to be happy. Even if it’s not with me. Even if our better time has passed. 

You deserve to be happy. 

Calum reads over the letter again. Still not sure how his lungs are still operating because he was positive all the air had been exhaled. It’s the fourth time he’s read it today. Since he had Michael read it out to him in the green room. He would’ve asked Ashton, but knew that Ashton would’ve told him not to worry, to keep moving forward. Because he had, in a way. He had thrown himself into music. He had tried to chase after her in other people. He had read all the books on poetry, and love, and philosophy. But something down in his gut told him that he would never let her go again if he got a second chance with her. 

He looks at the date. She wrote it six months after everything went south. Maybe she forgot to send it. It had his name on it--just never fully addressed out though. She could’ve messaged him. Emailed. Called. Literally anything and he would’ve answered. But hadn’t she? What held her back? And just as he goes to read it over one more time, the door chimes open. He looks at his phone. Just as the time ticks over to 8. And when he glances over his shoulder, there she is. In the same jacket from before. 

The little pizza shop isn’t too loud. Most people come in just to get their few slices and then dip right back out. She smiles, waving just a little before sliding onto the stool next to him. She points to the letter, that he hasn’t even moved to put up, “Sorry it’s not my best work. I thought about finding a synonym for happy but nothing fit right.”

With a breathy chuckle, Calum folds the letter up, slipping it into his pocket. “What do you recommend off the menu?”

“God, with this place, anything.” 

They settle back down on the stools, paper plates not fully supporting the extra large slices and a stack of napkins between them. The grease runs down his chin and Calum feels it rolling too. But his hands are full trying to keep his slice from falling. She laughs, dabbing at his face with a napkin. “I still see you’re the messiest eater around.”

“Hey, hey, it’s not my fault,” he grins. Their giggles dissipate as the bell chimes again, a signal of another patron entering. “What happened?” The question doesn’t feel full enough, doesn’t feel like it fully encapsulates all the confusion he holds. But yet, those are the only words he has.

“A lot started happening all at once. Your tour, my second album. More shows. It just-I felt like I couldn’t breathe. That I wasn’t a person. And maybe part of it was selfish. Maybe I was trying to save myself all along and I was just telling myself and you that I wasn’t selfish. I really am sorry. Like, if I had known, god if I had known that doing that would’ve caused all the pain it did, trust me, I wouldn’t have. If I could go back and tell myself, that crazy shit happens and you just gotta learn how to keep your cool, I’d do it in a heartbeat. It was a mistake letting you go. But at the same time, reaching out felt wrong too. Like I would’ve been ruining the peace you had created for yourself. And I didn’t want to do that either.”

“You know, I felt like we had something different. Like that was really going to be it for me and I had finally figured out this whole being in love thing. That I wouldn’t have to worry about anything. And maybe that was my mistake. Maybe I saw something happening and didn’t do anything.”

“We were living continents away. With everything happening, you weren’t seeing all of it. No need to blame yourself.” She takes his hand, slipping her fingers between his, twisting at the silver band around his middle finger. “I do want you to be happy, Calum. I want you to be so happy it just can’t be contained.”

“I was with you.” He squeezes her hand, willing her to look at him and not the street in front of them, through the glass. 

“I’m still not in L.A.”

“But you are in the same country as me now and I will take that.”

“You’d still take me back after everything?” When she looks at him, brows furrowed together, Calum knows he’s a goner. He always was with her. 

“I would.” 

“You’d be crazy.”

“I am already crazy. Because I’m tempted to ask you where you’re staying and if I could stay the night.”

He’s leaned in to her, just a hair. And she leans in too, resting mostly shoulder to shoulder. “You are crazy,” she laughs softly, taking in the reflection of the neon lights on the street. “But maybe I’m also crazy too.”

The night is cool again. Both of their boots scuff the concrete. She doesn’t stay far from the small diner, a ten minute walk really. With fingers threaded through each other, they walk huddled close up the sidewalks. The wind whips across their faces. They dodge piles of trash on the edge of the sidewalks and they keep their heads down so as to not attract a crowd. “How do you like New York? Got to be a huge shock?”

“It most definitely is. I like feeling anonymous here. With so many people around.”

“I know you said you don’t do well with people and New York feels like the opposite of the place you want to. Especially not in the city.”

“I mean, I still don’t do great with people. I’m in the city for the time being. But I have my eye on a few places further out. But after everything, I felt less lonely here. I don’t know. No one cared about who I was. No one cared what the fuck I was doing here. And I liked it better that way. Back home, everyone knew. Everyone looked at me like I was a broken vase. Here, no one gave a shit. It’s move or be moved here. Forced me to come to terms with everything. Forced me to accept everything I was trying to hide.”

“Do you need to go to your hotel? Grab or bag or something?” She asks just before they pass the opening for the subway. 

“I have my roomkey. It’s all good. All the interviews were today.” 

“As long as you’re sure.”

He gives her hand another squeeze. “I’m sure.” They reach the door to the complex and she digs out her keys, opening the front door. Calum follows her through the second set of doors. The elevator is a little janky as it carries them up, and definitely tiny. In the space, they’re pressed chest to chest. There are a few extra lines around her eyes, he notices and runs the pad of his thumb over the skin. It’s just as soft as it’s always been. She feels so familiar under his touch, yet so new. 

It’s not a far ascent and she laughs when he pouts as she pulls away. “Just like four more steps.” 

It’s true to word, when they step out of the elevator, her door is directly in front of it. Her keys jingle just a little as she works the lock and pushes into the chipping red paint of the door. Her dog leaps from the couch, greeting her and then barking just a little when they spot Calum. He laughs, kneeling to hug them to his chest. “You still remember me, huh?” he laughs, as they attempt to lick his face and jaw. “Oh, too long, I know. Sorry, bubs. Didn’t forget about you.”

She takes his jacket, hanging it by the door. “Want anything to drink?”

Calum shakes his head from her couch, working at his shoes. “No, I’m good, thank you.”

She nods, watching as her dog claims Calum’s attention. But she can’t find an ounce of herself to be mad or annoyed. So she slips out of her shoes and puts them up, before getting herself a bottle of water. When she settles onto the couch, she just laughs at the antics. Calum keeps trying to say something but at every twist, her dog is right there, plopping themselves in his lap. Calum eventually gives up and wraps his arms around their body, scratching lightly at their fur. 

“Someone missed you too,” she teases, putting her two fingers really close together. “Just a tiny bit.”

His laughter echoes in her head. “Yeah, clearly just a little.” He lifts his head just a little when he feels the wet tongue at his chin. “So, you’re working on your third album?”

“On and off,” she admits. “Playing more shows than anything for the time being. I don’t have to think. Everytime I think too much I end up fucking something up. So I’m just taking it easy for the time being. Taking some brand deals.”

“You’ve got a collab coming out soon, right?”

She nods at the question, laughing as her dog finally settles down. “Yeah, next month. I’ve always lived kind of a boring life, you know that.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know.” He can finally shift, as her dog wanders over to the water bowl, so that he can sit in front of her. It’s a dangerous game. He’s played it before with her. But he takes her chin into his hands. “We haven’t really talked in a while.”

“Is there something you want to say, Calum?”

“Yeah,” he returns simply. Her breath hitches, eyes searching his brown ones for something, anything that tells her what’s going on. “I wonder if your lips still feel the same. I always thought about the way you’d laugh sometimes into a kiss. And it used to haunt me. But right now, I want to find out if anything else has changed.”

She wastes no time, pushing up and sealing her mouth around his. His hand slides to the back of her neck and she pulls at the collar of his shirt. They fall into each other, then falling into the arm of the couch. She exhales her laughter, still pecking at Calum’s lip. Her fingers tease the skin of his upper chest and neck.

“I was right,” he grins. 

She hooks her finger around the gold plate. “I guess you were.” She pulls him back in for another kiss, slipping her hands into his hair. 

As his lips trail over her jaw and down to her neck, she thinks about the time at her apartment back home, Calum woke her up with kisses down her jaw. They still feel the same. Maybe even a little bit better. His finger push up the hem of her shirt, squeezing at the flesh of her side. She sighs and Calum groans at the sound. It sets off everything in his body when he hears her quiet noises of pleasure. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, pulling away to look at her as his fingers brush over her skin. “I don’t want to push you or take things too fast this time.”

Being with Calum feels like no time has past, if she’s honest. She doesn’t have the butterflies, just the comfort of someone she’s known for a year. And it sort of feels like they’re picking back up from where they left off. “I’m okay with it.”

He grins and she sees it--that rising sun in the gleam. His forehead rests against her. “I kinda feel like we have a lot of lost time to make up for.” His lips brush just over hers as he speaks. 

She exhales her laughter again, but agrees. “Just a little bit. I really am sorry.”

“We all make mistakes. You just have to communicate with me, okay? That’s all. Talk to me this time. If you feel like you’re drowning, let me help. Please.”

She pushes up and Calum settles back down into the cushion, taking her hands into his. “I know things won’t be like, perfect now. But I guess, it’s really important that we do get to spend quality time together.”

“It is. And I know my tour schedule is pretty packed right now, but there’s another longer break in about three weeks. They’re LA shows. I don’t know if you have plans, but if you do, we can hang out then.”

She has to laugh because here’s the trouble all over again. “Booked recording sessions then.”

“Okay, well, the week after that is the break between legs. What are you doing then?”

“Nothing.” There’s a break between sessions, and she had just planned to use the time to breathe. 

“I’ll fly you out then. Just you and I and my rehearsals. But that’s besides the point.”

Laughing, she rests her head into his bicep. “Just you, I, and your rehearsals. Got it.”

“We’ll have to better plan out things, that’s all. We’ll have to look at both our schedules and make sure that there’s sufficient breaks and time together.” He guides her head up. “I want you. And I mean all of you. I can’t stand to lose you again.”

“I just have to make sure Ashton doesn’t kill me.”

“He’s protective, yes. But not an evil. I’ll talk to him. Don’t you worry.” 

“He did write a whole song about how he’d bury a body for you. So I think I have a little bit to worry about.”

Calum laughs, shaking his head. “Maybe just a little bit.” Her grin makes him want to bottle it. He wants to carry it with him in his pocket. Leaning closer, he kisses her again. “But right now, it’s just you and I. There’s nothing else but time for us right now.”

She hums. “I like the sound of that.”

Fingers trail back under shirts. She drinks down his moans as they tease, barely touch. Calum’s shirt is discarded in the living room and her is pulled off in the hallway. Calum holds her face in his hands, memorizing the way her teeth sink into his bottom lip in the gentle nip. He moans. Fuck, she feels so good against him. 

Her spine shivers as his fingers trail to her back and unsnap the band of her bra. As the fabric falls from her shoulders and she tosses it somewhere, Calum takes a hand just to cup her. His fingers roll the erect bud and she sighs again, mouth falling slack against his. He laughs. “Hmm, that’s right. Someone does like their nipples played with.”

She grins though, blinking open her eyes. “Don’t think I forgot that you don’t listening to rules and like a little pain.”

Finding her waist with both hands, Calum holds her in close. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She bends her knees, just a little and with hot and open mouth kisses she trails down his chest before taking her teeth into the meat of his peck. Calum jolts, a grunt falling over his lips and throat. “I would dare,” she returns. 

They fall into her sheets, the same golden ones from before. They’re just as soft against Calum’s skin. It’s warm, as their skin heats up. Her skirt has landed somewhere to the floor and Calum pushes his hips up as she shrugs the denim down. She kisses over his thighs, moaning just a little. Calum lets his eyes flutter close at her soft kisses. 

Everything just feels right. Even as Calum takes a nipple into his mouth, tongue teasing her just a little. Or when she kisses over his length. But right now, she tosses her head back when Calum pries her legs open kissing up her inner thighs. “I’ve dreamed of this,” he whispers, watching as she clenches, more of her arousal leaking from her. 

She huffs, pulling a hand through her hair. “You sure do know how to make a girl sweat.”

“It’s a speciality,” he laughs with a wink before kissing her clit. She balls on fist around her sheets, stomach completely clenched. The last thing she wants is to have to wait much longer for anything. The anticipation can be a good thing, though she’s doing everything she can to keep her cool. That is, until Calum finally takes the first lap from her and she unravels, a moan leaving her throat as it mixes with a whine. 

He takes his time, pushing her thighs and knees to give him all the access he could ever want. Calum licks another stripe over her, before sucking her clit into his mouth. She taste better than he could’ve ever imagined. Every sound she gives--moans, groans, or a whine--rattles in his brain and spurs him on. One of her hands finds it’s way into his hair and she tries to push up with her hips and his face down into her core. But it’s not like he needs the assistance or the reminder. When he trails down to her opening, his nose brushes over her clit and her body is reeling. 

“Oh, fuck,” she whines, feeling the coil in her lower gut tightening. 

Calum hums at the sounds, and when she praises him, tells him that he’s the only one to make her feel this fucking food, he rewards, slipping a finger into the mix, pushing up into her. “Is that so?” he asks, watching her head dive deeper into the pillows. 

“God, Calum,” she huffs. 

Another finger finds it way inside, pushing and curling in all the right places. Her body feels like it’s on fire. She feels like she’s a coil so tightly wound she’s going to break. His tongue flicks across her click, lapping at her. And that’s it, that’s the right combination to send her over the edge. Over she goes, with a yelp, her orgasm rocking her frame and toes curling as she cries out for Calum. 

He keeps her going, keeps curling his fingers at her. So lost in the way she sounds. And when the huffs turn into a hiss, he pulls back. She beckons him up, kissing him and tasting her own arousal coating his lips and tongue. He’s careful not to settle fully against her, but it’s quickly changed when her legs come up and lock around his waist. “I’m not gonna break,” she laughs, when he finally let’s go and sinks into her. 

She swallows his response with a kiss but it doesn’t matter anyway. Her hips come up and Calum rolls onto his back, letting her settle atop him. Her nails rake down his skin and she sucks at his neck, he’s sure it’ll bruise just a little but it’s okay with him. His nails dig into the flesh of her hips, not sure if he wants the friction right now or if he just needed to revel in the feeling of her against him. 

“Shit,” he whines when she rocks over him. “I-fuck.”

She laughs, pulling away to reach into her drawer. “That sounds about right.”

Calum delivers a swift swat to her ass at the joke, but laughs anyway. “That is not funny.”

“Then why are you laughing.” When she turns her attention back to him, condom in hand. She stretches down to kiss him again. “Did I ever tell you you’re not the only one that likes a little pain?”

His eyebrows arches and he smooths over her ass before delivering another spank to her opposite cheek. She sighs, eyes fluttering close just a little. “Oh, buttercup, you should’ve never told me that.” 

“We can save it for another time? Because right now the only thing I can think about is riding you until the sun rises.”

Kneading at her breast, Calum grins. “Now, that sounds about right.” 

There’s a moment, right as she settles down on him fully, that they both moan at the feeling. Calum because of the warmth and slickness, her because of the stretch. Her head is dizzy again with need. She steadies herself with her hands planted on his chest and rocks. All she can focus on is the girth of him, stretching her completely open. It makes her toes tingle and she falters, falling into his chest, but starts a new cadence, pulling up and settling back down on his length. 

“Holy shit,” he huffs. She buries her face into the crook of his neck and Calum coaxes her out, to look at him. “You don’t get to hide from me, not again. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum.”

Her hips are still rocking but she nods, eyes fluttering close just for a moment. Calum kisses her, and it’s his turn to swallow down the moan she feeds him. She pushes back up, pulling her own breast between her fingers. Calum loses the top of his head, he’s sure, watching as she rides him. His fingers trail over her hips, up to her stomach. “Why’d you have to be so handsome?” she teases breathy. 

He’s not sure how to respond. Unsure of the heat he feels is a blush or the sweltering of arousal flooding his body. She takes one of his hands, trailing it towards her heat. And Calum takes the hint, thumb circling the bundle of nerves. Her head falls back on her neck as a hum builds in her chest. Calum kneads at her right breast, pulling and pushing at every button he can to have orgasm again for him. 

A high pitched squeak falls from her. The bed taps against the wall, but neither one of them really cares. Her orgasm washes over it, like a wave crashing into the shoreline. She shudders, clenching around him and falls again into his chest, but pushes up onto her elbows, remember Calum’s early demand. “Fuck,” she whines when he starts to fuck up into her. He pulls her body up and she’s useless, body still like jello from her orgasm. Her words catch in her throat. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers into her ear when she bites down onto his shoulder. “You know I like the pain.”

“Feel so good,” she returns. “Calum, shit, you feel so good.” His hips start to stutter, trying to ride out for longer, but knowing that inevitably he’s at the end of his rope. She kisses over his neck. “Cum for me, yeah? Please.”

Who is he to deny her? Who is he she to defy her? He ruts up once, twice, and she clenches hard, taking most of the wind of his third thrust but he cums hard, arms squeezing her to his chest and he knows he’s loud in her ear as he groans. Though, it’s suspected that’s just the sound she wanted to hear as she seals his mouth with hers. 

Calum wraps the towel around his waist. She’s already under the cover, with them flipped down for him. She pats the spot in the mattress. He can see some of the hickies covering her chest that he left behind. Without much thought, Calum dries off a bit more and then slips between the sheets. “Hey,” she whispers. “Come here often?”

“My first time actually. But the first of many, I hope.”

Her nose scrunches as Calum taps it. “Yeah, of many. I brought your phone into the room. Put it on my spare charger. And I know that it’ll go off at 5:55 AM. No, you don’t have to turn it off. I know it’s important to you.”

“You--you still remember that?

“I don’t know if you really remember. But when I said that you were in everything, you were everywhere. I meant it.” She turns to her back, the sheets tucked up to her chin. Both of them are bare beneath them. 

Calum’s taken up drawing random patterns on her stomach as he holds himself up on his elbow, facing her. “I remember. Could never forget that.”

“Guess we might’ve meant for something more, something better.” Her voice is soft. The blinds in her window let the lights of the city in. Nothing about it is quiet as sirens pass by. Calum lets his head fall into her pillows. She turns, both of them now facing each other again. Her arm slides over his waist. He throws one of his legs over hers. 

She’s content like this, where she can kiss across the tattoos on his chest. Though she can’t really see the one just under his peck, she thinks about the question poised there. Why would she choose anything other than Calum? It remains quiet for a while and she thinks he’s fallen asleep until his chest rumbles. 

“We were. It was just a matter of getting there. Finding the right path for us.” He’s positive, as she shuffles in a little closer that this is it for him. And if he has to fight hell, heaven, or high water, he’d do it all for her. 

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood blurb #calum hood smut #calum hood fluff #calum hood angst #calum hood fic #calum hood imagine #calum 5sos #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos smut #asks #answered #h writes #distance series #calum hood x famous singer #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (18)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Life is like an endless road. Sprinkled with pitfalls, choices, regrets, happiness, doubts... so many things that could keep you going... or to end the journey permanently. At every important moment, two paths are open to you. and every path you take will have consequences. This is called the butterfly effect.

But when you look at Danny's life, you quickly notice that he continues on his way even though it should have stopped. Already just during his childhood, he escaped death twice. The violence he suffered because of his "father" almost cost him his life. then when he lost Carla. At first, our dear assassin wanted to end his life before changing his mind at the last moment, feeling unable to do so. That's when the truth came out. That's when his life took a whole different path. And the rest you know.

And there... there is another way opens up. The path you've opened. But how far will this path go? Only time will tell. But one thing is certain: Jed will have to disappear. Danny still can't believe you prefer Jed to him. Such a boring life is almost unbearable! While a life with him... exciting, dangerous is what makes him feel alive! We're going to have to really work on that. As for McKellan.... his time is running out now.

It's all set. All that remains is to wait. Once the discord between him and Hoggins gets to a certain point.... He will strike. It is not in his style or in his habit to blame someone else. But he has to admit that it was fun to make Wilhelm go around in circles. He couldn't wait to see his face when he found out that Danny had put him on a false trail.

“A little romantic dinner, huh? I knew that under those glasses and that nerd look there was a romantic boy.” said Melinda suddenly, bringing Danny out of his thoughts.

Oh, that's right. Have dinner. With you. He sent you a message to see if you'd prefer a restaurant or a meal at his house. And your answer was not long in coming, with a nice touch of humour, you told him that you would like to taste his cooking.  He is not a great Michelin-starred chef but for you he will be able to make a meal worthy of the greatest restaurants. And with a little luck... he will be able to enjoy the softness and warmth of your body for the night... what? Don't forget that he is a man, above all! A man with needs... important carnal needs.

“I may be a nerd, but I'm not an idiot either. And then it was you who told me that I had to think more often about my personal life than professional, right?” said Danny scratching his head.  

“that’s true, but I didn't think you'd listen to me. And also, at home. this story could end well ... If you know what I mean.”  

“Not on the first night. That's not her style. Plus, we're not really ... Together. Maybe tonight will be the beginning of a relationship but... It can also be an embarrassing misunderstanding. I'm not sure it's reciprocal. She can always change her mind...

“Don't start telling you that the war is lost if you haven't fought in one battle! You don't know anything and that's normal! tonight it will be the perfect opportunity for both of you to be sure that it is reciprocal. And if that's the case... then this may be the best night of your life.” replied Melina seriously.

“Yeah, you’re right. I'll see what happens tonight. the boss's plan seems to be working. Apparently Hoggins is going to press charges against the Georgia newspaper. And he's not even aware that we've published it.” said Danny, re-placing his glasses properly.

“The most amazing thing about all this is that Hoggins has a tooth against McKellan! Apparently, he thinks he was the one who sold the wick to the journalist. it's going to create tension...” said Mattew, stretching his arms.

“That's going to spice things up. It can only be beneficial to us. Now don't make mistakes. If hoggins learn that it is us and that in addition they were stolen from his home ... we can say goodbye to life.” said Melina.

Jed nod while Danny smiled slyly. He will be dead long before he tries anything. Because of course Hoggins is going to die. When and how Danny doesn't know, but one thing's for sure: he'll kill him. Then maybe he will consider living somewhere else... You never know. and if he could take you with him... that would be the icing on the cake. He can't wait to see you tonight. More than ever. He wonders what you're going to wear... something soft for sure.  

But it won't be the most interesting... the most interesting will be how the evening will end... He took the opportunity to bite into one of your pastries, since your reopening, you provide the newspaper with pastries and coffee. and everyone appreciates it! But Hembrook is the greediest. His personal order was rather.... Long. the latter passed through the offices, a brownie in hand before stopping in front of our trio.

“Don't forget you have a Ghostface article to write! I'm counting on you my little Jed to get a quality article!” He said with a proud smile.  

“Of course, sir. You can count on me, I'm on my way.” respond Danny with a smile.  

“This little bandit of Wilhelm does not give us much info. Did you find anything on your side?”

“Well... I shouldn't talk to you about it but... I found pictures... really horrible pictures... I didn't think he could do that. I... I dropped them off at your office.. So, you can see it for yourself. But I don't mean to offend you... you had a criminal among your employees.” replied Danny, holding back from smiling.

Two actually, but that, old man, you don't know. Because compared to Mike, Danny is a real cover-up pro.

“Yes... I can imagine the worst. Even though he was a drug addict, I can't even imagine what kind of crap he was doing. I'll be in my office. By the way, you'll tell your friend that I love her cakes! I'll pay for it at the end of the month. At work little kids!

Danny and the others resumed their work, the latter working to catch his article about the drug dealer they recently found. With Mike's murder, it's a big job but it doesn't scare our young reporter. All he cares about is your little face-to-face tonight. Just him and you... both in the same room. The little rabbit trapped by the big bad wolf.

The day passed quickly, the lunch break allowing everyone to take a breather, Danny took the opportunity to watch what he could cook you tonight. A Milanese cutlet with spaghetti was his final choice. He has everything at home to do them. What? Did you expect him to have only sandwiches and ready meals? Danny is a fine mouth and he likes to cook despite his ...bloody inclination. and you're going to be able to see his culinary skills tonight. Actually, Jed's skills from your point of view.

He has to make his alter ego disappear. once and for all. He was tired of being the nice little Jed Olsen. He wanted to be himself. He left his job and came to pick you up as usual. You were exhausted but delighted with this little meal between you. The way home was a laughing as usual and you separated in front of your apartment doors. Danny had three hours in front of him to prepare dinner. He's got plenty of time.

He put his things in his office, took a change, and went to take a good shower. hey he must be presentable tonight! no glasses, no hair tied, it's a very different "Jed" that you're going to see tonight. He left the bathroom, wearing a short-sleeved black T-shirt, black jeans, and grey sneakers. Well, they were white at the base but ... let's say that time has done its work. He was handsome, he knew how to showcase himself, without any artifice. Natural beauty is all that attracted him and made him attractive.

He began to prepare the meal, being careful not to be wrong. He has to make a good impression! if he has calculated his shot correctly, he will have to cook everything when you are there. He'll have a good half hour of conversation with you before he gets to the table. everything was calculated, like his murders. I told you, Danny is meticulously meticulous. Once the meal was ready, just waiting to be baked, Danny prepared the table, simple, sober, but effective. He opened a bottle of wine and tasted it before he smiled. A quality wine for a quality meal.

He placed the bottle on the table and checked that everything was in place and once that was done, made sure that the door of his office was locked. We never know, curiosity is a nasty flaw, and nothing says you won't try to get into it. He barely had time to return to the drawing-room, when he heard knocking at the door. A sneaky smile came to his lips. It's time.

He opened the door, and what he saw left him speechless. You had styled your hair in a beautiful bun, leaving two thin strands of your hair on either side of your face. You had very slightly made-up, very discreet that it does not even seem that you have any. You were dressed in a white and blue striped dress, flesh-colored tights and small navy-blue ballerinas. An angel, you were an angel. And visibly, Danny didn't leave you indifferent either.

“You’re...you’re beautiful.” said Danny, regaining his spirits.

“So are you. I wonder if I'm at the right address. What did you do with the real Jed Olsen?” You said laughing, making Danny laugh at the same time.

“Oh, let's say that when night comes, the little nerd I am is giving way to a perfect gentleman. Especially when I'm in perfect and charming company. But come in, please. The evening will be more pleasant inside than in front of my doormat.”  

“Thank you, my dear little gentleman.” you replied, coming in while Danny smiles slyly, closing the door behind you.  

“dinner is practically ready, but I'm saying we could... chat a little bit. Unless you're really hungry and then I better cook everything before you become a little demonic creature.”

“Really Funny Jed, don’t worry I'm not like Mattew. By the way, everyone enjoyed my cakes?”

“Yeah, especially Mr Hembrook, he's a real glutton, you would have seen him he wouldn't have stopped if you'd brought him more. But keep it to yourself, he's supposed to be watching his line. In fact, his wife does it for him. I met her once and I can confirm that these two there was meant to be together, they are literally day and night. But as they say, opposites attract each other, don't they?”

“It’s true. Melina told me that... that we were all connected to our soulmate in one way or another. and that all our lives we were guided to him or her. After that is it true ... In a sense when I think of my parents, or the Lawsons, I tell myself that it's true. But when I see some couple separating after years of married life.... I tell myself that it doesn't necessarily work every time. Or that we wanted to thwart fate and it put us back on the right path.” You answer shrugging your shoulders, looking at him.  

“Sure...Well, Can I have a drink for you? If I remember correctly, you are not very friendly with alcohol then... Can I buy you a cup of tea? You'll still drink wine at least? just have a drink if you really don't want to, to make me happy.” He asks smiling.

“Yes, for the tea, and just one glass of wine, to make you happy.” You respond, smiling in return.  

Danny serves you a small cup of tea and then give it to you before serving himself and sitting on the couch. You join him and talk for a good half hour. You discuss everything, Danny of his work, you of yours, recalling your little feat of yesterday. Danny smiled, the thought of you mastering this poor fool made him laugh inwardly. Who would have thought that this fragile little body was capable of such a thing? After this half hour of discussions, he got up and put the cutlets into the oven. He pulled out a jug of water that he had put in the fridge, to place it on the table on your side. He then turned on the pan where the spaghetti has cooked to warm them up a little before serving on the plate. Once the cutlets were cooked, he placed them gently on the plate and took them to serve on the table.

“I'm not a great Michelin-starred chef but... I hope you like it.” He said scratching his head.  

“Oh, come on! I'm sure it's very good! Don't underestimate yourself like that! and at worst... You'll be my guinea pig for the next three months.” You respond laughing.

“Well, if it means free cakes...Why not?”

You start eating and he's taking only a bite to congratulate Danny, or rather Jed on his meal. Jed smiled as Danny smiled more widely, of course his cooking was good. He told you, you would be treated like a queen if you preferred him to Jed. The meal went in good spirits, from the dish to the dessert.

“It was really delicious Jed. Thank you. It's been a long time since I've had a... one-on-one with someone. If we ignore the meal, we made at the Chinese restaurant of course. And in the end, you do very well in the kitchen ... Carla was really lucky to have you.” you said smiling.

“Carla taught me everything. If she hadn't helped me with cooking, I would have been a great instant noodle addict.” Danny responds.  

“... There's something I'd like to talk to you about. It's... It's about the two of us. I... I know you can't turn the page since... I mean, you know. But lately, we've both shown signs of affection...”

“We kissed. Twice. The first time was you and the second time was me. And you wonder if... if it's reciprocal on my side. You want to know for sure.” Replied Danny rising from his chair to stand beside you, his eyes staring at yours. He laughs slightly, seeing you nodding, blushing.  “It's true that... I'm having a hard time moving on. Carla... was everything to me. She was the only one who didn't treat me like... someone different. And since we've known each other, I've felt that way again. So, if that can answer your question...”  

He kissed you, without warning, and this time the kiss lasted longer. The softness of her lips added to the softness of his... It's a double feeling of silk touch, both for him and for you. As he was about to release you, Danny was surprised when, against all odds, you kissed him again, not wanting to let go of his lips for a second. Both eventually backed off and a smile was exchanged between the two of you.

“Is that okay with that answer?” he simply asks.

“Yes. You know I don't promise to be the perfect girlfriend...”

“I don’t promise to be the perfect boyfriend too. We're probably going to fight one day. For anything and everything. But know that if you have problems ... I'll be there. I won't let anyone near you. To hurt you, of course.”

“Me too. I... I’m started to be tired. I'm going to go to bed.” you replied, rising up and starting to walk you to the door. Danny hugged you and kissed you one last time.

“Good night my love. Have sweet dreams.” He simply said.

He let you go and addressed his angelic smile when you close the door. He cleared it all, wash the dishes, changed and went to bed. Looking at the ceiling he let himself be dragged by sleep. No stalking tonight. But in his mind one thing was clear:

When it all ends. When no one is on his way, whether it's McKellan, Hoggins, or those who will approach you... He'll have to be the only one in your eyes. Jed will have to disappear.  

FOREVER.

***

(Done! well I took my time and start writing only since Wednesday, but I did it! I hope you’ll like it like the others! time for me to rest this week-end! have a good week-end everyone! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Read Into Me-Chapter 1: Wuthering Heights

Steve Harrington x Shy! Reader

CONTINUE READING THE SERIES HERE

Word Count: 2,849

Date Posted: 04/27/2020

Warnings: Swearing

Author’s Note: We starting something newww friends! If you liked or commented on my post about this series, you’re on the tag list! If you want off lemme know, it’s seriously no big deal. I’ve been working on this one for awhile, so if you liked it, please flash me a reblog or a reply! Criticism is always appreciated!

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @aclockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @banjino-the-hole @buckysarge @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @t0rment0 @10blurredsmoke10 @unusuallchildd @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @alwaysstressedout @peterparxour @linksispink1995 @asharpknife @alex--awesome--22 @baebee35 @marvelismylifffe @lilmissperfectlyimperfect

Flowers poked up between the sidewalk cracks, little white and yellow daisies blooming skyward, their heads turning to bask in the sun. Spring was bursting all over Hawkins, making the town reborn in pastels and Easter bonnets. Babies crawled around in the parks in white outfits, their mothers not worried about grass stains and cooing over their precious bundles of joy.

You crushed the daisies under your boots on your walk to school. You made a point to. They were begging to be crushed, stamped out by your heavy black soles. You didn’t like spring, you hated babies in their grass stained diapers and drool covered cheeks. You couldn’t place why you hated the season, it wasn’t as if you hated the cold or the rain which plagued March and early April, you adored the sound of rain on the Plexiglas roof of your family’s sunroom, thunder in the distance and swirling grey clouds swarming the sky. Then again, that wasn’t what spring wanted to be. Spring wanted to be beautiful bursts of colour and birds singing from their nests, babies crying into life and everything turning green.

Your hatred might have sprung from all that green, your mother had insisted on you taking up an artistic skill, supposedly because it made young women more worldly and affable, and sat you in art classes where you painted bouquets of flowers and bowls of fruit for hours every week. You didn’t hate art; it had become a release for you, a place to vent your emotions and makes something from your mind’s spinning thoughts. You’d filled sketchbooks and canvases with images of aliens and stars and snails. You liked to doodle snails and hourglasses on the margins of your homework. But your favourite thing was to draw your classmates. You were a quiet person, a sensitive soul according to your grandmother, and so often time’s people would ignore you flat out or discount your presence. This didn’t bother you so much, it gave you the chance to look at them without anyone asking any questions, to sketch out their image in charcoal and graphite, covering your hands in black and grey smudges. Your hands were constantly stained black, up the side of your hand to the tip of your pinkie, which meant that your jeans and shirts and sweater cuffs were smudged and stained.

You were sat on the football field’s bleachers one cool April morning, your best friend Samantha Cameron sat next to you, thin headset around the back of her head. She was unable to pull the headset around her black spiked hair, purposefully ghastly pale with black lips. You could hear the muffled sound of Siouxsie Sioux and the Banshees playing at top volume as her head bounced to the beat, her black high tops kicking at the seat below you. You had your sketchpad out, trying to capture the stiff movement of her hair with the graphite piece clutched in your hand.

Samantha turned to look at you with a smile “You get it right yet?” she asked. She could see the annoyance in your face as you rubbed at the drawing, trying to smudge the stray hairs trying to escape the harsh gelling she’d done that morning. Just like your drawing, you suspecting that she’d been unable to get it to do exactly as she wanted.

“It’s getting there, it’s not moving right yet…” you muttered, pulling your lip into your teeth, chewing hard on the skin.

“You have like, four of me as is, I think you’ll survive if it isn’t perfect.” Samantha chuckled, pulling her headset down around her neck, twisting her long strand of pearls around her index finger.

“And I like this one best, your hair is moving so interestingly today…” you swiped at the page, pulling the eraser gum out of the coils and rubbing out the mistake you’d made, adding more shake to the tips of the centre point.

“Besides,” you chuckled “I’m not gonna have the time to get any good sketches of you with post-its in your hair this year.” Usually, you and Samantha would try to take one class together a year, but she had to switch her English class to first semester so she could snag a gym credit to train for potential college reps. She wanted to be a Wellesley girl and get a scholarship for soccer and she needed to be a top performance to get one.

You sighed, turning away from her. “I still hate that Mr. Lawrence insists on group work…” you muttered. You understood her decision, but you felt a bit nervous about being on your own. You’d gone to school with the same kids for your whole life, but being on your own with no one to depend on socially for a whole semester scared you.

Samantha wrapped an arm around your shoulders “You’ll be fine, you know that he usually assigns partners anyway.” She said, rubbing your bare skin gently.

“I know I just really don’t want to get stuck with some nitwit.” You replied. On cue, the bell blared from the outdoor speakers and you closed up your notebook, sliding your graphite and eraser gum into the coils and shoving it into your backpack, stringing it around your shoulders.

Mr. Lawrence’s hair had gone white long before he’d begun to show to process of aging on his face. His only wrinkles were from tension on his forehead and around his mouth.  His white hair was a sort of burst of smoke around his head, always puffed up around his head and never fully settled into a style. You smiled when you walked into his classroom, taking a seat in the far back corner. You’d already gotten a sketch of his puffy cloud hair, so you left your notebook closed.  The rest of the class trickled in, clumped in their little groups and chattering loudly, taking up the seats around you. Nobody paid much attention to you, which didn’t bother you as much as it used to. It still left a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You wished that you had your headset, so you could block out the sound from your peers.

You hoped that the seat next to you would stay empty, that people would avoid you and let you sit quietly. It hadn’t before the break, but the room had been set up in little table groups of four. Now, the room was set up in three rows, two desks pushed next to each other all the way down. Mr. Lawrence had already had to yell twice for people to not move the desks, a sign of little cliques forming. Vicki Clarke had tried to pull the desk next to you over to turn the end of the middle row into a fire hazard, causing Mr. Lawrence to yell out for a third time. Vicki rolled her eyes, but released the desk, taking the desk next to the free one, leaving a clear space between her and you. You didn’t mind; Vicki always smelt like artificial apples, from the cheap body spray she slathered herself in at her locker and the scent gave you a headache.

Tina Martins practically ran to Vicki as the bell rang out, immediately calling to Vicki “Move that desk over!”

Mr. Lawrence rolled his eyes “Miss Martins we are not moving any desks in this room. Take a seat.” He announced. Tina’s shoulders sunk, but she obeyed without an argument, taking the seat to Vicki’s right. Then, the reason for all the commotion walked in, late slip in hand.

Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington was still something to talk about, even after being horrifically dumped by Nancy Wheeler, he was still a hot object around the school, especially for girls burned by the newest small town hottie Billy Hargrove. Vicki and Tina were two primed recent burn victims, Tina having tried and tragically failed to get Billy’s attention at her own house party and Vicki being the first ‘hump and dump’ victim of the notorious man whore. Steve’s sad boy behaviour had attracted the attention of many bleeding hearts throughout the school, letting themselves get their hearts drained by his succubus heartache. And here he was, puffed up like a robin, his bright red member’s only jacket mimicking the red breast on the bird, his hair perfectly coiffed and glinting in the florescent lights. Heartbreak had done his ego good, teaching him that girls were a dime a dozen if you were hot and sad. The concept of preying on vulnerable girls made you sick to your stomach.

Steve handed his late slip off to Mr. Lawrence and he stamped it with the date punch he kept on his desk. “Welcome Mr. Harrington, please take a seat so we can begin.” He said, his rectangular glasses sliding off his nose as he spoke.

Suddenly, the energy in the room changed. It was then that you realized the class was mostly girls and every single girl in the room was staring at Steve. It was obvious to you in an instant: they wanted Steve to sit next to them and they were all out of luck, sat next to friends or other girls desperate for the same attention. The bargaining began, girls whispering to the person next to them to move, sliding cool erasers or lipsticks over onto the other desk, peace offerings they hoped someone would take. Mr. Lawrence’s classroom had fallen to jailhouse rules and you sat wondering when the first person would pull their shank. No one moved as Steve made his way to the back of the class. Then, another thing became clear-you were the only person with a free desk next to them. Vicki waved shyly to Steve as he took the seat and you tried to disappear. The whole room’s eyes were now on you and unlike Steve you absolutely hated it. You wanted to disappear. Now, you were enemy number one to every girl in the room.

“Alright, let’s begin then, yes?” Mr. Lawrence clapped once and commenced the lesson “Welcome to your last two months of English! I’m passing around the breakdown for your final assignment and copies of our last reading for the course, Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights.” The class groaned. You’d been hoping for a lighter, more modern read, something at least from that century. But you knew that Mr. Lawrence loved a classic and had to follow the suggested readings for your grade dictating by the state. You took your tattered copy and wordlessly handed the pile off to Steve, who didn’t notice that it had landed on his desk until Vicki pointed it out with a giggle.

“Now, everyone turn to their desk mate. He or she will be your editor and writing partner for the final essay of the year!” your heart dropped. You were stuck with Steve. And he was an idiot. Every stupid thing you’d heard uttered from a classmate’s mouth had always been from his. He once asked who the US was fighting in World War two. He spent one class arguing with a teacher that Beth didn’t die in Little Women, not believing it even when the teacher sourced the exact page when Alcott revealed it. He once failed a health assignment because he mixed up the names for the parts of the male and female. Literally mixed them up, your seventh grade health teacher had provided them for the worksheets and told the class to cut the out and glue them on and he mixed up all the words into a pile. He was an idiot!

Tina’s hand shot up fast and Mr. Lawrence called on her. “Mr. Lawrence, can we be a threesome with Steve?” She asked loudly, smirking over at you. Vicki giggled at the word ‘threesome’, hands clutched over her mouth.

“But then what will Y/N do? She won’t have a partner.” Mr. Lawrence flashed you a small smile and you just about threw up. This was all too much for you, too much attention, too many people looking at you.

You raised your hand timidly “I’ll be fine if that’s what they want to do. I don’t mind working on my own…” you said, your eyes locked on the course breakdown.

“See, Y/N can handle herself.” Tina said. If you knew Tina to be anything other than mean and condescending, you would’ve taken that as a compliment.

“I want every student to have work edited and reviewed by a classmate before I look at it. I’m sorry, but I’m not making exceptions to the rule. If your desk mate wants to switch with Steve, then that’s another thing entirely, but you cannot be a group of three.” Mr. Lawrence laid down the law on that and moved on with the lesson. While Tina and Vicki attempt to convince one another to switch seats and let the other have Steve, neither would budge and Steve seemed utterly uninterested in their spat. To be fair, he didn’t seem interested in the lesson either. He had taken to drawing on the surface of his desk, scratching his initials into the wood.

“Now, for your first assignment back, I’d like you to write me a piece on your spring break. Nothing fancy, just one page typed. We’ll write the first draft today and exchange it with our partners to be edited and rewritten for Friday.” He announced “When you’re done, read chapters one through three of Wuthering Heights.”

With that, the semester had begun again and everyone went to work. Voices took over the room, people chattering around you. You felt a pair of eyes on you, but you flipped open your binder to a clean sheet of paper and began writing out your simple description of your break. You knew that Mr. Lawrence didn’t actually care about what you had done or had to say, only that you’d done the work and had proof of editing for it. This was a practise for the main event. Still, you could make a page out of art classes and driving to Carmel with Samantha to see some random band in the basement of a dive bar. You could even make it interesting for him. But, something still made your stomach churn. You didn’t want Harrington looking at your writing. You didn’t consider yourself the next Hemingway, but you could write an essay. What worried you wasn’t being told that you were wrong. It was letting him into your mind at all. You didn’t know Steve and he didn’t know you, what if he didn’t understand you? He wouldn’t understand you.

You looked up from your work to see Steve looking blankly at you. You met his eye, raising your brow at him. He looked away fast. You didn’t know what it was about, your hands came up to your face, wiping at your cheeks and mouth. Maybe there was something on your face. Maybe your hair looked silly. Maybe he was making fun of you. That had to be it. He was making fun of you. Vicki and Tina were always bugging you and Samantha, maybe he was joining in. It wasn’t your fault that Mr. Lawrence had forced you two to be partners. You pulled your body away from his, curling into yourself.

When the bell rang, you pulled your work into your bag, making a break for the door. You had your free period next and were desperate to finish your drawing of Samantha. You didn’t need to have her in front of you to catch the right details; you’d drawn her a million times.

You had barely made it into the hallway when Steve grabbed your arm, pulling you back with a cocky grin “Whoa, slow your roll there kiddo,” he chuckled. Your skin prickled under his hand and you wanted nothing more than to disappear. You stopped dead in your tracks, pulling away from his hand carefully.

“So, how’re we doing this?” he asked, his attention moving from you to the yelp of Tommy Hanson. You didn’t need to look to know that Carol Perkins was beating him with her bag again. That was a weekly occurrence.

“Write your stuff and hand it off to me in class. I’ll edit anything up till forty-eight hours before it’s due. I’ll give you my stuff when you give me yours.” You said quickly, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

“Sounds cool,” Another cry from Tommy, this one more directed at Steve, drew his attention fully “Alright, I’m coming Hanson! See ya around.” He directed the farewell to you, bounding off towards the source of the sound. Even when his presence was gone, you still felt his fingertips on your arm.

Samantha threw her arm around your shoulders, rebooting your systems again. “Hey, what was that about?” she asked, leading you away from Mr. Lawrence’s classroom and towards the gym, her next destination.

“That was because you fucked me over.” You sighed. It was going to be a long month.

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