#and when her ears are completely lax when shes chilling somewhere and she looks like a fucked up giant mouse

[metaphorical-love-for-a-car]

Sunshine After Rain-- Connor (RK800) x Reader (Part 5)

Summary; After the death of your little brother, Cole, your dad hated androids. He blamed them for Cole's death. Hank couldn't stand to be around them. How the hell are you supposed to tell him that your soulmate is an android?

Warnings; swearing

Word Count; 2.3k

Notes; A big thanks to everyone who has stuck around and read this fic!! It was my very first reader insert, so it isn’t the best... but I still love going back to it and seeing how far I’ve come since. I’m glad that I was able to re-upload it to this blog, all these years later :)

Connor squinted up at the gray sky as snow slowly fluttered down. He glanced around his surroundings. The small pond had frozen over, and almost all the trees were barren. He walked along before him until he came across an open area. "You've been avoiding me, Connor," Amanda hummed. Her eyes were as cold as the snow beneath their feet. "And at a time like this? We are on the verge of a civil war. The machines are starting to rise up against their masters. Humans will have no choice but to destroy them." Connor explained that he thought Kamski might have the answered they needed but was wrong. He avoided her gaze, like a child being reprimanded by their mother. He then started asking her questions. She avoided all of them. His voice began to rise alongside his frustration. "I expect you to find answers, not ask questions. You're the only one that can prevent this war from coming. This is your last chance, Connor. Don't forget what you are and let meaningless people prevent you from completing your mission."

You bobbed your head to the beat of the music. The headphones covering your ears silenced the world around you. Bending over, you shoved a handful of files into a drawer. When you sat up, you saw Connor standing in front of you. You paused the music before pulling the headphones off. "Hey, Con. What's up?" He glanced around as if he were making sure no one was listening. He sat on your desk and leaned forward.

"I need your help."

"On a scale of slipping laxatives into Gavin's coffee to committing treason, how big of scheme do you have going?" You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. A small smirk twisted the corner of your lips. Connor raised a brow at you.

"I need you to distract Perkins while I sneak into the evidence room." You hummed, intrigued by his request.

"Alright... I'm just gonna not ask any questions in case things go south and I get interrogated." You pushed yourself away from your desk, imagination running wildly.

You slinked off into the kennel as Connor made his way to the other side of the room, waiting for your distraction to come. A tennis ball bounced its way through the bullpen. A few people raised a brow at it but overall did nothing. Connor frowned, was that your idea of a distraction? Without warning, a group of younger dogs barreled into the room. They were all barking and fighting over the ball. You poked your head around the doorway, tossing another ball in Perkins's direction. The dogs thundered toward him. He shouted and tried to brush them away. Several officers circled the dogs in an attempt to grab them, but the pups evaded their capture. You noticed Connor slip into the evidence room and put your fingers to your mouth. A sharp whistle echoed through the precinct. The dogs looked in your direction. "Attention!" you called out, marching to the group. The group younger dogs sat, looking prim and proper. You picked up the tennis balls and turned to Perkins. "Sorry about that. Playtime can get out of hand," you said with a shrug. He grumbled something about keeping the dogs under control.

"Don't let it happen again." You mockingly saluted him.

"Sir, yes, sir!" You turned your back to the man as he put his phone to his ear again.

You herded the dogs back into the kennel before separating them into their pens, making sure each one was secured. You quickly walked out, hoping that you were able to give Connor enough time. As soon as your marched out of the door, you collided into someone. “Shit. Sorry, I— Connor! Did everything work out?” He nodded, glancing over his shoulder.

“We need to leave. I need your help with something else.” You raised a brow at him, not moving. He sighed.

“I need new clothes. I discovered where Jericho is, but I need to get out of my uniform in order to blend in with the deviants.”

“Okay.” You glanced at your watch. “Dad is probably at Chicken Feed right now. We can go borrow some of his clothes, I’m sure he won’t mind. I mean, he pretty much wears the same two outfits over and over again.”

The two of you slipped out of the precinct before anyone could ask where you were off to. When you arrived at Hank’s house, you quickly raided his closet. Pulling out anything you thought might possibly work for the situation, you tossed piles of clothes onto the nearby bed. “If you find anything you like, just try it on” You threw a shirt over your shoulder. “Anything of his is probably going to be pretty big on you, but it should be good enough for tonight.” You turned and gave him a smile.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You chilled on the couch while he changed. Several minutes passed by before you heard the door creak open. Connor sheepishly walked around the corner, tugging on the clothing that hung loosely around his body. He almost looked embarrassed by his appearance. “Now you’re lookin’ like a deviant,” you joked.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, totally! Just need a finishing touch…” you trailed off, looking around you. A smile crossed your face as you spotted it. A gray toboggan with a little puff on top sat on one of Hank’s bookshelves. You accidentally left it and had been meaning to pick it up, but this seemed like a better opportunity. You snatched it up and secured it over Connor’s head. “There! Perfect,” you said with a laugh. You tugged Connor into the bathroom where he could get a look at himself. When he saw his reflection, he grinned. You put a hand around his arm. “Connor, I don’t know what’s going to happen when you get to Jericho, but I just…” you sighed, “I just hope you do what’s right. Who knows? Maybe androids deserve a chance to be free.” You carefully watched Connor’s expression, staring into his brown eyes. He looked sympathetic for a second, but it was washed away by determination.

“I know what I’m doing, (y/n).” You nodded, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“Stop by my apartment when you’re done, okay? Just so I know you didn’t get destroyed or anything,” you said in a joking tone while being completely serious. Connor nodded, his grin returning.

“I will be fine, (y/n). There’s no need to worry about me. I can always be repaired.” You rolled your eyes. You patted his shoulder.

“I know that. Now, go get ‘em, tiger.” You pecked his cheek. His eyes widened for a moment, and he almost looked like he was short-circuiting. Connor quickly turned on his heel, but you noticed the deepening red tinting his cheeks as he left.

It was nearing midnight. You were on your fifth cup of coffee. You were fighting back sleep with a broom, wanting to stay awake for Connor. You were curled up on your couch and having a Disney movie marathon. You figured that singing along to the songs would help keep you alert. It worked... for the most part. Your eyelids drooped as your head slumped over. Suddenly, someone knocked on your door. You jumped to your feet and answered it as fast as your tired body would allow. You perked up the moment you saw the RK800 standing on your doorstep. "Connor! Did everything go okay?" His eyes were wide and frantic.

"We don't have much time. They're going after anyone they believe I have emotional attachments to. I need to get you somewhere safe," he quickly explained. You nodded, slipping on a nearby pair of sneakers and a jacket. You locked your apartment door behind yourself as you followed Connor out. The two of you quickly jogged out of the apartment complex.

As the building started to fade into the background, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. You furrowed your brows. The world around you stayed in its usual gray hues. A terrible realization sank to the bottom of your gut. This wasn't Connor-- not your Connor. You stopped in your tracks and tried to wrench yourself out of his grip, but the android was stronger than you. "Let go of me, jackass!" You swung your fist at its face. The imposter caught it easily. With a swift movement of its leg, it knocked you to the ground. You wheezed, trying to regain the breath that had just been knocked out of you. The android kneeled beside you, holding you to the ground. Its eyes narrowed. It leaned close to your face.

"I'm not sure how you figured out I'm not the deviant RK800, but no matter. You're sleep deprived, causing your moves to be sluggish and highly predictable."

"Predict this, motherfucker." You jerked your head forward, headbutting the android. Alas, androids do not feel pain the way humans do, so it just blinked down at you.

"I recommend you do not continue to resist. I will not hesitate to harm you in order to complete my mission." The android stood, hauling you up to your feet. You thrashed around, hoping that something you did would at least loosen the thing's grip so you could get away. The RK800 had enough of you. Without warning, a fist cracked down upon your face. You yelped in pain as your head recoiled. Blood slowly trickled from your nose. When you looked back at the android, it held a gun to your forehead. "As I said, do not resist," it growled.

The android shoved you forward. You stumbled but managed to find your footing before you could fall. You glared daggers at it. "(y/n)?" You turned to see Connor, the real one, standing with his arm outstretched to an android on standby. Worry filled his features. The imposter held its gun to your head. It taunted Connor, telling him that its time for him to decide who he is and what matters most. He was clearly overwhelmed, eyes flickering between you and the imposter.

"Connor, look at me." His eyes landed on you once more. "You don't have to worry about me. Just do what needs to be done. It'll be okay." Connor turned his focus to the other RK800. He tried to explain to it that there was more than just the mission, but the android just wasn't giving in. It pressed the gun closer to your temple, causing you to flinch. You were beyond terrified. You didn't want to die, but you also didn't want to jeopardize everything the deviants had worked towards. You closed your eyes to keep the tears that were threatening to form at bay.

"If I surrender, how do I know you won't kill them?"

"I'll only do what is strictly necessary to accomplish my mission. It's up to you whether or not it includes killing this human." A second passed where no one dared to move. "Enough talk!" the android suddenly shouted, "It's time to decide who you really are. Are you going to sacrifice your so-called soulmate's life, or are you going to sacrifice them?" Connor didn't even hesitate with his choice.

"Alright, alright!" He held his hands up in surrender, backing away from the android on standby. "You win."

You opened your eyes. Why was he giving up so easily? Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a swish of movement. The RK800 had moved the gun away from your head. You took your chance and leapt at it, trying to wrangle to weapon from its hand. The android shoved you to the ground, and Connor barreled into it. The two faced each other off. Two equally powerful androids, each blocking the other's advances. You watched the two struggle for a moment, mind racing wildly in an attempt to formulate a plausible plan of attack. You noticed neither of them was holding a weapon and immediately began searching for the gun. As soon as you spotted it, you dove for it and hopped to your feet.

"Enough!" you shouted, aiming the gun in their direction. The two androids looked at you and slowly stood. You chewed on your lip. They looked exactly alike.

"Good job, (y/n), I don't know how I'd have managed without you. Get rid of him, we have no--" You pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through the android's forehead. It fell flat on its back. Connor gaped at you.

"How did you know that was the fake?" You wiped away the blood that had gathered around your top lip with the back of your hand, grimacing at the sight of it. You tucked the gun into the waistband of your sweatpants.

"That son of a bitch talks a lot more than you usually do." Connor quickly swept you into his arms. He placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry, (y/n). I shouldn't have let you get wrapped up in this mess." You cupped his face with your hands.

"Hey, don't sweat it. I mean, the worst that happened to me was getting punched in the face, but I'm okay. We're both okay." He opened his eyes and stared into yours. Connor slowly leaned forward, pressing his lips against your own. The kiss wasn't hungry or overly passionate. It was gentle and sweet, almost innocent. When the two of you parted, a smile crossed both of your faces. "I guess this means you're a deviant now, huh?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

~*~*~

Want to be added to a tag list? Follow the link in my bio or just click here!

Permanent Tag List:

@blitchen

@blitchen-fics​

@phire23​

Sunshine After Rain Tag List:

@creation-magician​

@mysteriouswritingzonthewall​

@vix360​

@nincomplexity​

Connor (RK800) Tag List:

@sammyyyygp​

Detroit Become Human Tag List:

@katsavoie17

@dumb-ass-ghost​

@peter-the-pan​

@bucky-blogs

#detroit become human #detroit become human connor #detroit become human x reader #DBH #dbh x reader #dbh hank #dbh rk800 #dbh rk800 x reader #dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #connor x reader #connor imagine #connor rk800 #connor rk800 imagine #rk800 #rk800 imagine #rk800 x reader #Bryan Dechart #bryan dechart x reader #hank anderson #dbh hank anderson #hank anderson x reader #hank and connor

[quarterfromcanon]

Next to You

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 15 - Playlist [1,550 words]

“How are you completely packed right now?” Valencia huffed while arranging ensembles along the edge of the mattress. “I’ve loaded and unloaded my suitcase three times just since you’ve been sitting there.”

“This is all routine for me,” Heather reminded her. “Davis family reunions have been around longer than I have. The specific pants and stuff change from year to year, but the basic wardrobe requirements stay the same.”

“I still don’t know how to prepare for their weather.” Valencia put her hands on her hips and considered three different shirts. "Seventy degrees for us versus seventy degrees for them could feel totally different. I don’t want to shake your grandparents’ hands with pit stains but I also don’t want to be the weird California girl who keeps shivering every time she’s under a shady tree.”

Heather unfolded her left leg from beneath her body. She stretched it across the sheets to point to an option with her toe. “That one. Open with a tank top. You can tie it around your waist if you get overheated, but you also don’t have to worry about it hugging your arms too tightly and showing sweat if you need the extra layer.” 

“Thank you.” Valencia adhered to the suggestion and rolled the chosen garment the way she’d learned from a YouTube luggage space-saving tutorial. 

“It’s gonna be okay.” Heather didn’t look up from her laptop, but her voice was sympathetic and knowing.

Valencia twisted the recommended tank top in her fists. “This just means being around a lot of people. Like, so many. I come from a big family too, but I’ve got a safety net there. Everyone knows that Fernanda Perez would destroy their bloodline if they went after any of her daughters. It’s one of those ‘it’s only okay when I do it’ things, but it does provide the benefit of not having to hear what my aunts really think of me. They only discuss it when we’re out of earshot. I won’t have that going for me with your relatives.”

Heather waved her hands over herself in a ‘What am I?’ gesture.

“Yes, I’ll have you,” Valencia acknowledged. “I know you’d defend me if you had to, but I don’t want that to even come up. I don’t want to be the cause of a fight on a day that’s just supposed to be happy and fun.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Heather asserted again. “Seriously, they won’t give you any trouble. The Council of Elders might creak their old bones to give us side-eye, but that’s as confrontational as it’ll get.”

Valencia shuddered. “Can we call them something else? They sound terrifying.”

“Cheaters of Death? Ghosts of Prejudices Present? Good Ol’ Fashioned Pains in the Ass?”

Valencia smiled in spite of herself. “You’re teasing me.”

“A little. Is it helping?”

“Kind of.” Valencia sorted bottles of hygiene products in a clear, rectangular bag. “What’s got you clicking away over there? And why does it require headphones?”

“Travel soundtrack,” Heather answered simply. She held one of the headphone cushions to her ear with visible concentration. “I’ve gotta switch a few around. They’re fucking with the flow.”

“For the flight?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“For me?”

“Yep.”

“Music to soothe the anxious beast?”

Heather’s eyelids crinkled at the edges. “Something like that.”

Valencia settled across the narrow vacant space on the bed. She ran her palm up and down Heather’s leg from ankle to knee and back again. “I appreciate the personalized calming technique you’re creating but, if it makes you feel any better, I honestly won’t notice whether it all blends perfectly or not.”

“I know. I just like the challenge.” Heather twitched her shoulders.

Valencia poked the curve of Heather’s muscle. “You take your arrangements very seriously.”

“‘Music is crucial. Beyond no way can I overstress this fact.’” Heather intoned while she typed something else into the search bar.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re quoting that futuristic bumper car book at me again?”

Heather leaned sideways toward the shelf along the wall. Her fingers found the third level up without looking and counted across three spines before sliding out the fourth novel over from the right. Valencia verified the author name and title even though she was already familiar and shook her head. Rant by Chuck Palahniuk.

“Chapter seventeen,” Heather confirmed. “Hit Men.”

“I’m pretty sure you have the best memory of anyone I know. It figures that line would stick since it does sort of sound like you.”

Heather winked. “‘I carry a mix for any human condition.’” 

Valencia lightly slapped her hand against Heather’s thigh. “Showoff.” 

They both resumed their activities until dinnertime approached. It was decided that ordering in seemed the best course of action so they wouldn’t have any dishes to do before their early bedtime. They settled on opposite ends of the couch with their legs crisscrossed atop the middle cushion.

“You said we won’t be the only not-straight people there, right?” Valencia prodded at her noodles with chopsticks. 

Heather tucked a diced carrot into her cheek. “Are you still stressing?”

“Are you still surprised?” 

Heather gave Valencia’s kneecap a comforting squeeze with her calves. “No. I was just hoping it’d pass, for your sake. But yeah, there’ll be at least one other couple there. My cousin Nancy came out back when she was in high school. She’s bringing her fiancée, Charlie. They won’t be hard to track down; Charlie’s hair is an even brighter red than Paula’s. It’s like the easiest game of Where’s Waldo in a group of brunets.”

Valencia nodded. She tapped her hands against the sides of the takeout box. “So which of you two is older?”

“Me by about... four years?” Heather tilted her hand from side to side to indicate a rough estimate. “I was somewhere in college by that summer. She texted me the week before to get advice. I showed up in this denim jacket covered in, like, every pride button and patch I could find. I had a pansexual pin for her in my pocket."

Valencia’s expression softened and she nudged Heather’s waist with her foot. “That was really sweet of you.” 

Heather shrugged. She focused her attention on fishing out an elusive pea in her rice. “The plan totally worked because, no matter how many people noticed what she was wearing, I was always gonna be the more distracting one. It took some of the heat off Nancy and helped her chill out a bit. We basically sat on a picnic bench all day just talking and laughing, staring back at anybody who got a funny look on their faces.” She laughed quietly. “It was great.”

“All right, well, mission accomplished.” Valencia reached for her drink. “I’m at least a little excited for this gathering since it means I get to meet her.”

“She said the same thing.”

“Psh, no she didn’t.”

Heather pulled out her cell, tapped the screen, and scrolled. She turned it to face Valencia with her thumb under a message in gray.

Valencia clutched her heart. “Aww!”

Heather clicked her phone off and returned it to her pocket. “Told you.”

___

The four-and-a-half hour flight from LAX to DTW was a ride for Valencia in both the literal and emotional sense of the word. Her inner responses to their journey swooped from eager to bored to panicked and then repeated the cycle. Heather remained ever-present and attentive, able to track and accommodate whichever stage Valencia was experiencing at the time. 

The digital map on the fold-down display indicated they were now flying over Michigan. Valencia couldn’t help obsessively checking every so often to see if she could spy the city below, even though she knew it would be a while yet before they were that far across the state. Heather snuggled against Valencia’s shoulder with her cell phone in her lap, set to play the collection of tracks she had so meticulously assembled. The headphone splitter was nestled in her half-open hand.

They were about twenty-five minutes from the disembark when Valencia finally got a proper view through the clouds. Her breath caught in her chest and it was at least a full sixty seconds before she became aware of the lyrics playing through her earbuds.

‘Is this the fate that half of the world has planned for me? I know I love you, and you love the sea...’

Valencia turned to nudge her girlfriend awake, but Heather was already watching her intently. They met each other’s gaze for a moment and Valencia arched an eyebrow. “Did you time it out so one of my favorite songs by Vampire Weekend would be on right now?”

Heather could not quite conceal the upward turn at the corner of her lips. “I’m flattered, V, but don’t give my playlist-making skills too much credit.”

Valencia dropped her voice an octave. “Oh my God, you’re so full of it. You’re, like, so full of crap.”

Heather fluffed Valencia’s sleeve like a pillow. “That’s a good impression. You should trot that one out at the reunion. You’ll be a hit.” She shut her eyes and sighed contentedly. “I’m gonna catch a few more Zs before we land.”

Valencia rested her cheek against Heather’s hair. She pressed a soft, discrete kiss to her forehead. “I love you, too.”

#H+V FF #CEG Writing by Me #Helencia #Heather x Valencia

[mx-bebe31-blog]

Vampire!Kihyun

I’m really proud of this vampire!kihyun au I did. Please enjoy!

No one knows Kihyun when he comes into town

You only hear from your older sister as you two sit together, sewing dresses and suits in your mother’s shop

You’re obviously a little interested, a sly smile on your face as you lean closer to your sister

“Oh? What’s he like?” You don’t care if men say women gossip too much, there isn’t much else to do in this town, and you revel in what details you can manage

Your sister seems to blush as she swats at you with a needle in hand

“I don’t know! I just know he’s an apparent apprentice for Doctor Crevan.”

“Has he gone to medical school then?” You question quietly as you focus on your task

“I heard it was at Washington University - down in Louisville.”

You nearly prick yourself at that statement. Washington University was one of the top medical schools in the entire nation. You’ve never known anybody who has gotten in yourself.

It’s almost like you’re waiting to get a case of the sniffles just to get a glimpse of this Sir Yoo Kihyun

But you back off as you see all of the other girls and women in your town flock to that doctor’s office.

You actually really like Doctor Crevan - he’s been your doctor since you were a little kid, and you tend to deliver gifts to him when you can manage it. So it’s when you hear that the craze over the new handsome graduate is dying down, you head over to Dr. Crevan

You bring a goodie basket just for him - it has a new silk tie you made for him, a pin, cotton socks, and food you think would be good to gift a person. There was a loaf of fresh bread from the bakery this morning, two small bottles of spices, potatoes, and a bag of fresh greens.

You’re smiling as you knock on the back door to the clinic, and go in yourself.

“Adrian! It’s me, (Y/n), I have a gift for you since it’s been so long -”

For some reason your smile completely drops from your face when you round the corner to see what must be the new apprentice - Kihyun.

You freeze as you hold the basket to your chest. Kihyun looks like a cold man when you catch him off guard, so when he suddenly breaks out into a smile you know he must be a bit of a fake.

“Oh, is Dr. Crevan here?” You simply ask as Kihyun stares at your form with that false smile on his face, his hands clasped together.

“He actually just stepped out to go to the town square. He is getting a new shipment of tools. And...who are you?” He steps forward, his voice edging interest as you shrug, turning to open Adrian’s office door.

“I’m (Y/n). Who are you?” You ask just to let him know he isn’t all he’s chalked up to be in this town.

You hide your smart scoff as his footsteps hitch following you into the small office meant for simple check ups and consultations.

“Forgive me, I’m Yoo Kihyun. I’m the new apprentice from Washington University.” You can hear in his voice that he’s waiting for you to praise him from being such a top notch school, but you only hum.

“Oh, that’s rather far from here, wouldn’t you rather work somewhere in London or Winchester? A lot more people would know your name.” You quip as you look at him before arranging the basket on Adrian’s desk.

Kihyun blinks as his lips fall lax. You look up after you leave your name on the basket, watching as he brings himself to a chuckle.

“I guess you’re right about that, but I’ve always wanted to work in the north. It’s much more...comfortable and quaint. Don’t you agree?”

He’s looking at you like an enigma. You’re not falling for his charming face or his impressive academics.

“I guess. Well, anyway, would you tell Adrian that I left this for him? I best be going.”

Kihyun gives a little smile, “Yes, I’ll be sure to pass along the message. (Y/n), was it?”

You nod, leaving the office as he is quick to follow you out - too quick. You feel his hand grasp your elbow and your back brushes his chest as he sighs next to your ear

“It was nice meeting you. You must have a strong immune system..I feel like I’ve met every other lady in town this passing winter.”

You’re easily able to step out of his grip as you turn, looking up in his dark eyes.

“Don’t be surprised if they all catch hay fever, too, with you in town. Goodbye, Mr. Yoo.”

You turn back and scurry back to your mother’s shop, passing your older sister at the counter.

“Was Dr. Crevan in?” She asks, seeing the lack of gift basket in your hand.

“Yes, of course, we had a lovely chat.” You smile before huffing behind her back and heading into the back.

Kihyun thinks you’re interesting. You’re not like the rest of the ladies who seem to just swoon over him at the very first glance. He knows it’s impossible for someone not to fall ill at least once in the year, yet he’s never seen you.

When he asks his mentor about you, gesturing to the gift basket on his desk, Adrian seems to go off on a tangent

Dr. Crevan was older than Kihyun, but not by that much. He was only thirty, and still looked youthful and healthy. Even handsome. Kihyun wonders if you two are somehow a forbidden item in this small place. He doesn’t see a ring on the doctor’s finger, and you certainly didn’t give Kihyun any of your attention.

You even called his mentor by his first name - Adrian.

“Oh, no, no, she’s just…”

But even Adrian didn’t have an answer.

So Kihyun decides to ask you

Sooner or later you would have to come to him - even if it’s just for a check-up

And that’s precisely what you’re here for, and you stand by the front desk where Kihyun is waiting.

“You’re our only appointment today, did you know that?” Kihyun asks you

“No. But it’s a small town, and the doctor’s office shouldn’t be full of sick people - we’d all catch our death.”

Kihyun watches you fill out your forms before you ask when Adrian will be ready.

“Oh, I’ll actually be doing your check up, Miss (Y/n).”

You’re taken aback but you can’t say anything. You don’t see or hear Adrian, and assume that he must have been called out to a different local office or maybe there was an emergency somewhere..

So you follow Kihyun back to the check-up room. Adrian’s office door is closed as you pass by.

The tests are normal, and fairly quick. Kihyun asks you a few questions regarding health, eyesight, and illness history.

“You’re as healthy as a horse.” He smirks as he kicks back in his chair, looking you over as he wraps the stethoscope around his neck.

“I try my best.” You say quietly as you look around the office. Your gaze comes back to Kihyun as he sits painfully silent.

“I don’t mean to be such a bother, but I’d like to ask you a few questions that don’t necessarily pertain to your health.”

The air is stale, but you agree.

“It says here you’re (age). Correct?”

You nod and watch as Kihyun sits up in his chair, rolling closer to you as he leans forward. “Adrian is just about thirty - he’s a pretty young doctor. He danced around this question when I asked him, but I’ll ask you the same one -- Are you two a sort of item, hm? Maybe in secret?”

You’re taken aback, and shake your head, “N-No, why would you suggest something like that? He’s a married man. And why would you care about such a trivial thing as that?” You tighten your voice, not sure why this med student has to know every detail of everyone’s life.

“Just curious, is all. You know you’re different from the other people in town.”

“You keep saying that, but all I really do different is treat you like the normal person you are.”

“How thoughtful.” He deadpans before taking in a deep breath. “What’s your family like? I recognize your last name...Is your sister (S/n)?”

You nod, “Yes. Her, myself, and my mother...we run the shop on Elaine Street.”

He tips his head, “Wonderful.” He muses. “They make dresses, and suits, correct?”

You nod, unsure of why he is asking.

“You look lovely in that dress you’re wearing right now. Who made it?”

“I-I...did.” You did indeed, it was a material you have been saving up for awhile. A plated silk in a cream color, making it flow beautifully to just above your knees.

“Before I let you go I also needed to get a blood sample. Is that alright?” Kihyun stands as if he never went off topic, and you watch him grab a vial and needle from the cupboards.

“Is that all you need then?”

He smiles, “Yes.”

You wonder what causes him to switch back and forth from the way he looks and talks to you, but you figure after this there is no more reason for you to stay.

He’s very concentrated on getting the needle sterile and tying a rubber band around your arm

“Are you afraid of needles?” He asks quietly

“No..not really.”

He smiles as he sticks you with the needle and slowly draws blood out of your arm.

You watch, trying not to shudder as he takes a sample. When he’s done he puts a bandage over it and looks up with a small smile.

“(Y/n), before you leave, do you remember when I told you I wanted to work in the north instead of the city?”

You nod.

He chuckles, and you watch in stagnant horror as he takes the vial and tips it back past his lips. All of it - your blood - goes down his throat, all the while he looks at you with half lidded eyes

It’s like he enjoys it. He hums in satisfaction and it sends chills down your back. You nearly scream.

“The air up here is nicer, cleaner. There isn’t a lot of people to create a mass hysteria...and no one would even know if this town were to disappear. Don’t you agree?”

You want to choke, you feel like you might pass out as you stare at the vial with remnants of your blood inside it. Kihyun licks his lips as he takes your hand, kissing your fingers.

“You’re different, (Y/n). You’re healthy. Your body has adapted to the air up here, leaving your blood with a different texture and consistency that’s enthralling. Now, as long as you keep up your appointments, we won’t have a problem, understand?”

He smirks as he takes your index finger and presses his lips to it. He bites down into the shallow skin and you cry out at the sting. He sucks at the wound for only a moment before licking over it, closing it like a suture.

“Understand, Miss (Y/n)?”

_________________

Hello! Lmao, look, an ending where (Y/n) doesn’t die! I think this is my fave vampire!au I’ve written - I’m thinking of re-writing Wonho’s and Changkyun’s bc they didn’t turn out like I wanted. Hope you enjoyed!

-S

#monsta x #monsta x au #kpop au #kpop fanfic #kihyun #yoo kihyun #monsta x kihyun #kihyun monsta x #kihyun au #vampire #vampire au #vampire!kihyun #vampire monsta x

[missvalerietanner]

The Unseen Soldier | Part 39 | Up In Smoke

Subject: Hades & Persephone (aka Aiden & Sophie)

Genre: Southern Gothic retelling

Words: 1,766

Summary: Sophie chooses her ending.

Updates every Sunday! Click to read.

Midnight.

The weather was calm, and the forest was cool.

Sophie stood on steady legs with fire nipping at the ends of her hair. Aiden stood at her back, and before her Harvesters stood before each panel of the mirrored wall. Among the silence of the forest, she drew in a long, slow breath and began.

The Harvesters raised their arms as one and struck the glass with their bony fingers. Their claws dragged down the surface, sending high pitched screeches into the air. Fresh scratches disrupted the pristine glass, marring it face, but they continued, urged onward by Sophie’s orders.

They withdrew their bony claws and struck at the glass again and again, lashing against its like a whip striking a victim’s back. They clawed and swiped, tearing through the glass without pain, and with each pass, the glass grew weaker, more unstable. Fragments began to crack and separate from the whole and fall to the ground and land at the ends of their dirty robes.

Sophie squeezed her eyes tight and clenched her jaw to suppress a pained groan as she shifted on her feet. The flames fully engulfed her hair now, lifting her orange strands in waves that cracked and weaved behind her head, lashing hungrily at the open air like tongues.

Aiden stood to her side suffering in silence.

Don’t touch me. Don’t leave me.

The two things she requested of him before setting out tonight, and he had promised to oblige. But watching her struggle now, watching her flinch beneath the pain of her own power, and listening to her moan in agony--it was breaking him not to intervene. But this was her idea, her solution, and their last resort. So he kept his distance despite the ache in his bones telling him to react.

With a sharp, splintering crack that bit at their ear drums, the interior mirrors fell into piles of broken shards as sharp as spears. Urged onward by Sophie’s drive, the Harvesters attacked the exterior mirrors with fierce dedication. They stood as the final barrier between the forest and the town, and the Harvesters were eager now, staring for the chance to touch the town and taste its air.

Sophie whimpered and stumbled forward, mashing her teeth harder to keep from screaming as the boiling heat of the Hollow flooded through her veins asif her blood were gasoline ignited by the match of her anger, her rejection from the town, and her desperation to save people who refused to save themselves. She focused on that anger and let it warm her.

She stumbled forward again and caught herself on the wooden frame of the Wall. The broken shards still clinging to its sides cut into her palms and set rivers of blood streaking down the wood. But she didn’t feel the cuts or the sting of the glass biting into her skin.

She felt only a warmth spreading through her limbs as the fire leaked from her hair and danced down her arms and around the curve of her hands. The flames ignited her blood and gobbled up the entirety of the frame. The flames incinerated the wood in a flash, leaving ashes in their wake.

The fire spread like a cancer across the frame, chasing down the paths on either side of her to complete the circle on the other sides. As the flames of the Hollow reached the Harvesters, they reeled back their jawless heads and stared to the ebony, cloudless night sky with those empty eye sockets and screamed as if they themselves were burning.

The sound of their screeches pierced Aiden’s ears, and he clamped his hands against the sides of his face to block their shrill cry. The three dogs whimpered at his back and dropped their heads to the ground, seeking any kind of relief from the noise.

Outside the Wall, the whole of the town was awakened at once by the shrieks. Families exited their homes as one and hurried to the outskirts of town to see the Wall for themselves, to prove it was still there. Others cowered inside or on their porches, shielding their ears from the piercing howls.

But all of the town could see the smoke rising from the forest’s edge in hefty gray puffs reaching high into the sky. And those who dared to reach the Wall witnessed the wrath of the flames burning the frame to the ground; they felt the scorching heat against their skins and wiped sweat from their brows despite the chill in the air.

The Harvesters’ fingers pierced the glass and dragged down, shattering the mirrors from the backside. The heat singed their bones, leaving black stains on their brittle bodies. Many of the Harvesters’ robes caught fire and were eaten away in seconds, leaving the frail, skeletal body behind without cover. Their slender gray bodies slouching forward ended with rounded ankle bones protruding through torn skin that now dangled for all to see.

The townspeople began to scream as they watched the outer mirror being ripped to shreds like fabric before their eyes. Soon, the black, eyeless and open maws of the Harvesters came into view through the holes, and the townspeople began to huddle together for safety. A few of them thought clear enough to bring weapons: rifles and shotguns. A few of the housewives wielded knives while the rest shielded their children from watching the destruction.

Amid the screams and roaring fire, through the haze of the smoked filled town lit up by lanterns and flickering street lamps, the exterior mirrors fell in a wave, dropping with a crash that silenced the Harvesters and the townspeople at once. The fire faded from life when the last of the wooden frame rotted beneath its heat, and all that remained was a crowd of people staring wide-eyed and terrified into the faces of the naked Harvesters with burned skin and charred fragments of their robes hanging in ropes from their misshapen figures.

With a soft exhale, Sophie collapsed. Aiden rushed forward to catch her in his arms, but he stumbled to his knees in his haste. He curled his large arms around her ashen body and cradled her at his chest. He tried to wipe away the stains of the fire from her face, but his sweaty fingers only smudged the ash into gray streaks across her face.

Her hair had returned to its normal orange thickness, and it too was covered in soot, lying lax beneath her head and entlanged among his arm as he held her. Her chest rose and fell in long, slow bursts, proving she was alive but unable to witness the remains of her success.

The Harvesters lingered at the edge of the forest, wavering forward and backward like dogs testing the strength of their leash. The shrinking group of frightened townspeople wavered on nervous legs. Most had already departed, running back to the safety of the town while the bravest remained, too curious and too hypnotized to look away.

Aiden stroked Sophie’s arms, hoping to wake her from whatever darkness held her under.

“Come on, darlin’. Come back.” He glanced between the leashed Harvesters and the terrified and huddled mass of people. “I need you to take charge again.”

From outside the remains of the Wall, Denise watched the remaining embers die away. Her eyes were locked on the Harvesters; their hideous, jawless faces gaping at her, and their black, empty eye holes staring through her rattled her bones with chills. Somewhere in the distance of her foggy mind, she felt someone shaking her shoulder and shouting her name--but to her ears, the shouts were a whisper lost in a daze.

“Denise,” Susanna shook her shoulder violently, trying to jar her out of her stupor. “What do we do now? Those creatures--Denise!”

But Denise could only stare back at the Harvesters while her daughter's words looped in her head.

“I’ve made my choice, Mother.”

“I will not apologize for finding my true place in the world.”

“If you care about me as much as you claim you do, then you will think hard on what I’ve said.”

Denise blinked and tore her eyes from the creatures. She scanned the remains of her Wall, of all her hard work and rage, and at the center the destruction, she saw the Soldier kneeling in the mud with Sophie cradled in his arms.

“My…” she huffed a panicked breath and reached forward. “My baby girl.”

“Denise,” Susanna shook her shoulder again. “We should go, get away from this place before—”

Denise heard none of her friend’s pleading words. She didn’t notice when Susanna dropped her hand from her shoulder and left the scene to seek shelter in town. Denise didn’t notice when the others left her too. She didn’t notice when she was the last person standing on the blacktop under the hissing streetlamp in the center of a pack of carnivorous creatures. All she focused on was her daughter at its center and the man who took her from her.

Aiden swallowed his worry and slid his arm under her knees to lift her from the muddy earth. He rose to his feet and drew her body close against his chest, folding her small frame into a half-circle so that his body would shelter her from the cooling wind on the way back home.

But before Aiden turned away, he felt someone’s eyes on him, watching him, judging him.

Denise watched the Soldier raise his head, and for the first time, she looked the beast in his light gray eyes--the eyes of his mother. She almost felt pity for him, recalling all his mother suffered through before she finally took her own life. But that was a long time ago, and it didn’t excuse what he had done now to her baby. But she found her muscles refused to move under the watchful eyes of those hideous monsters; and so she just stared back at the Soldier as he frowned, shook his head, and turned from her. He disappeared among the thickness of the trees along with her daughter.

Denise released a heavy sigh and stumbled backward, finally able to feel her legs again. As the final smoke clouds cleared from the forest, she saw the Harvesters turn their heads as one, all of them looking to the path where the Soldier disappeared. And they followed him, leaving her and the town untouched.

A sob left her throat like a cough, and Denise sank to her knees and wept in silence beneath the clearing skies.

#tus #the unseen soldier #hades and persephone #hapsgs #southern gothic #greek mythology #writings

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Andrew Garfield x Female Reader: Twenty-Four, Six (Forty-Fucking-Three, Part 3)

A/N: First of all, I am so sorry for this long wait. In order to make up for it, I made this third part much longer than I originally intended. In fact, to be completely honest, it’s gotten a little bit out of control. Some passages got me a little bit fucked up, but I guess I needed it to at least try and make it feel authentic. To you, beautiful human being, who’s reading this, I really hope you’ll like it. As always, feel free to give me feedback as some of you did - I appreciate it more than you can ever imagine! I also listened to ‘The Moon’ by The Swell Season when writing the last part, check them out.  Enjoy it, lads xx 

Lots of love and good vibes to you all!  Warnings: Some serious angst, mixed with a tiny doze of fluff and heartbreak. SMUT (I can’t believe i wrote that). If you don’t feel comfortable reading this, you can skip the entire last part, except for a couple of sentences at the end. It’s my first time writing smut (and probably the last), so I probably did a pretty shitty job with it, but hey! I tried. Also, swear words. My English, but I guess you’ve gotten used to it by now (: New to the series? Start by chilling at LAX airport here and then talk to your bf Brittnee here! 

Clinging to your dream as if it was your lifeline, you rolled over in your bed, commanding yourself to fall back asleep. It seemed like you had been tossing and turning for years now, your fragile slumber slipping away from your cold fingers as you tried to hold on. 

People crossing the boulevard. The sound of the water in the Louvre fountain, the drops of it crushing into the cold marble… Someone drumming their fingers on the table in a deserted Parisian café… 

Only you weren’t in Paris anymore.

You lay on your king-size bed, your body only slightly covered with blank sheets as someone banged on the door. You opened your eyes all at once, as realization dawned on you. It took a minute for you to blink off the remainders of sleep, stretching your hand to the bedside table. Your phone indicated five-thirty in the morning, the early rays of the Californian sun conquering darkness on the horizon. You sat on your bed, covering your breasts with your hands, numbly asking yourself whether you didn’t imagine the knocking rather than heard it.

The sound of someone’s fist colliding with the door split the silence of the room. Its echo rang in the air, as you stared into the dimness of the corridor, struggling to think straight. Slowly swinging your bare legs over the edge of your bed, you got up on your feet, cold air biting at your exposed skin. You grabbed a fluffy, white bathrobe on your way to the entrance door, wrapping it around your naked body, your hair caressing your bare shoulders – you tied the soft belt around your waist, but the robe was three sizes too big for you… 

White first-rate cotton was going to be your armor for this verbal battle that you knew you were not ready to fight. 

Quickening your pace, you approached the entrance, drowsiness blurring your vision. You carefully turned the doorknob, releasing the latch… You could feel your heart freeze all of the sudden, the blood in your veins ceasing to flow –  for a brief instant of hesitation, zero-gravity before the fall – before your eyes finally met Andrew’s, blood-shot and inert. 

Garfield’s dark, thick mane of hair had probably been coiffed back in some kind of a trendy hairstyle before airplane, Los Angeles’ wind and his nervous fingers ruined it. His rumpled polo clang to his broad shoulders, leaving little to imagination… His muscles tensed, as if he felt your gaze, as if it was physically draining to have you scan his upper body.  His ebony eyes, so striking against his paper-white face, weren’t blinking, as they stared at you, telling you so much yet not producing any sound.

Andrew bit his chapped lips, stretching his hand out to you. You looked down. His elegant fingers were wrapped around a big box of Pierre Hermé macarons.

Your heart ached, trying to break free from its ribcage. Your skin broke out in goose bumps, but it had nothing to do with the coldness of the air this time. 

“I asked the lady at the reception desk where I could find you. My guess is she loves herself a juicy Hollywood gossip, so…”

Garfield swallowed hard, probably trying to come up with another appropriate thing to say at five in the morning. You didn’t move an inch, just stared at him. An insane amount of guesswork was going on in his head, as he tried to figure out your next move. What was he supposed to do now? When you refused to take your favorite patisserie, he realized his best option was to walk away. Leave this stupid gift that he was idiotic enough to think would somehow remedy the entire situation, and just walk away. He had crossed the line. You were done. And he should have known better.

Every time he thought he’d put a finger on who you were, his presumptions always blew up in his face.

“Come in,” you suddenly said, your voice almost tender. You stepped aside, your eyes never leaving his. “Thank you for bringing breakfast”.

As he followed you into the kitchen space, his eyes roaming over your silhouette, he felt both relieved and miserable.

In terms of figuring you out, he was back to square zero.

“Tea or coffee?” 

You sat in a leather chair facing the French windows, watching LA slowly wake up. Broken out of your reverie by Andrew’s throaty voice, you turned your head his way, massaging your nape absentmindedly.

He stood by the kitchen counter, looking at you questioningly, holding a box of Nespresso cups in one hand and a Twinings selection in the other.  

‘I’ll take coffee, thanks,’ you deadpanned, turning your attention back to the city. The rays of the summer sun met your wandering glance head on, and you let them play with the shadows your eyelashes casted on your cheeks. Strong smell of coffee reached your nostrils, as Andrew placed a steaming cup right in front of you on a small glass table. You could feel him watch you, as he sat in an empty chair right in front you, leaning in, his elbows pressed against the rigid table surface.

“I assume you came here to talk”, you turned your whole body towards him abruptly, sliding the coffee cup out of your way. The hot brown liquid spilled on the table, forming a bizarre pattern, which you wiped off with a sleeve of your bathrobe distractedly. “Would you like to start?”

Andrew’s eyes remained fixed on the lower part of your face after you spoke, as if he was lip reading. He blinked twice before raising his glance to meet yours, his fingers rubbing his mouth. 

“I’m sorry for waking you”, he finally managed, staring down at his coffee cup. “I’m sorry for having left you in that airport. I’m sorry that, for the love of me, I couldn’t leave her. I’m sorry for being still in love with her, and I’m sorry you have to deal with…”, he was staring at you now, his eyelashes damp, “…all this mess, that I’ve gotten you into, God knows you deserve better, Jesus you do, but I just can’t let you go, I can’t because I…”

As you felt your nose go unnaturally warm, you hurriedly lowered your head, burying your fingers in your tangled hair. You tried to keep your breathing even, but a sharp exhale still managed to escape your mouth, leaving Andrew speechless. Watching you silently struggle to keep emotions at bay, he wrung his hands in utter self-hate, standing up abruptly, turning away from you.

“…because I love you,” he yelped, turning back to face you, ripping his heart up into these four innocent words, which only made sense when they were spoken together.  “So much…” he whispered, his hands behind his head. “How in hell can I love you both?… You’re going to tear me fucking apart!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, throwing his head back. You watched him, not emitting a sound, your eyes filled with what felt like acid. Pressing your lips tightly together, you closed your fluttering eyelids.

“I know that this wasn’t supposed to… We weren’t supposed to…” Andrew murmured barely audibly. “But…”

You heard yourself inhale spasmodically, as you gathered your strength and looked at him.

“But we did”, you finished for him, feeling the weight of the truth fall off your chest, heavy like an old graveyard stone. “Because that is what happens when you fuck around. You get attached to people. We both fucked up so bad…” you looked at him, meeting his downcast eyes, grief coloring them black. “I don’t want to do this, Andrew”, you bit your lip as hard as you could, keeping tears from rolling down your cheeks. “You want to break, you break alone. I don’t want to be a part of this… this carnage”, your chest felt so tight, too tight to hold that blast of emotion you held caved in for so long. “I’m out. I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend anymore. You’re on your own now.”

When the echo of your words had finally died and the silence settled in, it came as deep and vast as an ocean, separating the two of you. The ocean, in which you both were drowning, and nobody was here to save you.

“We shouldn’t have met”, you caught yourself whisper, a bitter salty taste invading your mouth. “Not at this time. Maybe one day…” you slowly rose from your chair, looking at Andrew’s tear-stained face. “Maybe one day, years from now, we will meet again, somewhere far away from here, and then we will give it another shot. Real shot this time,” you wrapped your hands around his neck, burying your face in his collarbone. You felt him shudder as he pressed his body tightly to yours, hugging you with all his might, his eyelashes tickling the sensitive skin next to your ear.

“I love you, Y/N”, he repeated and his breath felt like a dagger, its blade carving his words into your heart.

“But you love her more,” you murmured back, an explosion going off in your chest at last, deadly in its silence.

Your cold cups of coffee bathed in bright rays of the Californian sun, witnesses to the soundless affliction, until Teddy came knocking on the door, bringing hotel maids with him as he entered. These two young women later washed them and stacked them away, burying the porcelain in the armor, along with the life-changing conversation they heard. The day came and went, busy and merry, in the city of angels.

The sun, tired and bleeding, peaked in between half-closed curtains, its rays creeping inside, strips of liquid gold illuminating your empty hotel room. You had to avert your eyes the moment you walked in, for the first time since this morning, blinded by their brilliance. 

It was over. You no longer needed to play the hardest role you had ever taken on, because the show had finally come to an end. You could stop pretending now, when, ironically, you no longer needed to. That thin line between the stage and the reality had faded out, so leaving Andrew meant starting over, reinventing whatever was left of your life after he passed through.

You now knew why hurricanes were named after people.

Ellen’s show went well. It’s amazing how feather-light you felt after all the i’s were dotted and all the t’s were crossed earlier in the morning. You kept smiling at each other, kept laughing at Ellen’s comments, which were supposed to feel you uncomfortable, but failed to do so. You just stopped feeling things – everything except for that peacefulness that usually comes around once your fate is sealed. Still, you’d never admit it, even to yourself, but your eyes kept slipping in Andrew’s direction, taking mental photographs of his contagious smile, of the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, of his messy hair, falling on his face, of those lines on his forehead, when he gave questions a proper thought…

God only knew when you were going to see him again.

Packing took you longer than you’d expected. Mostly because you wandered in your hotel room without purpose, feeling like a ghost, stuck in the place of a tragedy. Your flight to Paris was leaving early in the morning, so that was another reason for which you weren’t in any hurry.

Tony Kushner himself called you during Ellen’s show. It was a perfect timing, really. You answered his call, and he offered you a part in his play, right on the spot, with the whole world watching. When you said yes, you saw Andrew squirm and close his eyes – a brief moment of weakness – before he beamed at you, applauding and playing the role of a happy, proud boyfriend. You both saw bridges between the two of you burn bright red, and neither did anything about it. All was said and done, and you were now a bird set free.

Teddy stopped by at around nine, to see how you were holding up. You spent hours talking, drinking from the bottle of Martini that he brought, saying your goodbyes – he told you today that he wanted to retire. While at first you felt betrayed, then you understood. His kids needed him more than you did. People have been choosing other people over you a lot lately, and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it, except sucking it up and trying to live with it.

You closed the door behind Teddy at midnight, ready to go to bed. Your stomach growled as you passed the kitchen. You haven’t eaten today at all, the stress, all these crisis situations and difficult decisions making you forget about your body’s basic needs. You made your way to the kitchen space, thinking whether you should order room service, searching for a menu with your tired eyes… when some kind of a white box caught your attention. 

Pierre Hermé, Paris, was written on the lid in simple, yet elegant black letters.

A dull pain stabbed your chest, as you carefully opened the box. Twenty-four perfectly round macarons stared at you, their colors almost shining in the darkness of the room. A small note lay on the arrangement, stark white, with only six words scribbled on it in a hurry.

I’m Nothing Without You, Bee’s Knees.

You closed your eyes, clutching the lid so tightly in your hands it elicited a moan, folding in two. God knows you tried to fight it. You really did your best. Still, this wasn’t enough. You couldn’t just pretend that you didn’t want him. That you didn’t love him. It’s him who didn’t love you enough. That was the truth.

Well, you could fuck the truth, now that it had already fucked you.

You suddenly realized your mind had been made up ages ago. You closed the box hurriedly, grabbed it and headed to your bedroom. Having dropped the macarons in your bag, you picked up the hotel phone from your nightstand, arranging for your luggage to be delivered directly to the airport tomorrow morning. 

Slamming the phone back in its nest, you headed out of your room, stopping by the mirror and taking a look at yourself. Just as you thought, the little devils inside your head had lit up the fires in your eyes, impossible to put out.

If Brittnee couldn’t be proud of you for deciding to go to hell, she’d sure admire the way you went down – swinging.

The world was spinning before your eyes. Speeding cars batted their lights at you, as if they were in onto your little secret. Biting your lip, again and again, you silently prayed for the taxi driver to push the pedal to the metal, before you could change your mind. 

You were tired and sore from the long day, but you didn’t care. You didn’t need sleep, you needed him. For just this once, you admitted it to yourself, and you were going to act on it.

You wanted Andrew Garfield, right here, right now. Wanted to feel his weight on top of you. The beads of sweat on his forehead to drop on your collarbones. You even wanted the ache that you knew the sunrise would bring, when you would have to leave him, and never come back.

This was the deal you made with yourself. Fair and square. The deal you’d rather die than break.

The car came to a complete stop unexpectedly. Everything was happening too fast for you to keep track, to fast for you to make smart decisions. After you handed the driver a fifty, you stumbled out of the car, pouring rain soaking your clothes through in a matter of seconds. As you stood in the street, taking in Andrew’s house, the taxi disappeared in the wake of the street, together with your last chance of getting away.

Andrew’s place was surprisingly immense, most of its walls plates of solid glass, illuminated from the inside. At least, he was home. This thought warmed up your chest and pushed you forward, your feet numb and cold. Your wet hair sticking to your face, your eyelashes heavy with water, you advanced, trying hard to make out the steps, leading to his door.

Your blouse and the suit you were wearing became heavy, as rain whipped you mercilessly, slapping your cheeks and shoulders. You couldn’t wait to take your clothes off, strip down to your underwear, to feel light again. But the minute you froze in front of his door, all the adrenaline seemed to evaporate off your body.

What the fuck are you doing here, you pressed your palms to your temples in desperation, as your mind tried to dominate over your heart one last time. He doesn’t love you. He never will. He…

“Y/N?!” the door to the house flew open all of the sudden, as you stood there, hugging yourself, trying to keep warm. Andrew, wearing grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt, let his eyes roam over your wet, cold body – his observation only lasted a second before he grabbed your arm and practically dragged you inside, closing the door. “What are you doing here? And at this hour?” his warm, rough hands cupped your face, as he looked down on you in disbelief. “I saw you get out of that cab… Come on, let’s get you warm,” he let go of your face and you almost whimpered, losing his heat. Walking right on the small puddles of water, formed by your dripping attire, he took your hand, leading you deeper into the house.

The living room he took you to was dim. He motioned towards the burning fireplace, as if telling you to move closer to it. With a look of concentration on his face, he disappeared behind bathroom doors, coming out with a towel in each hand. Before you could as much as clear your throat, he wrapped one of them around your shoulders, coming dangerously close.

You looked into his eyes, framed by impossibly long eyelashes. Chocolate, wrapped in black paper.

“Um, here, take this one, too”, he let go of you, handing you the second towel. He sat back next to you, watching you, obviously bewildered.

“Nice place you have here,” you commented in a low voice, looking around, clutching the soft towel close to your wet clothes. He didn’t answer, just kept looking at you, still amused at your nighttime visit. “Did I wake you?” you asked, your voice and body trembling.

“I’m going to get you a hot tea. Would you like that?” he rose back to his feet, ready to fetch the hot liquid. “You didn’t wake me,” he added, noticing your expectant stare. “I couldn’t sleep”.

“Neither could I…” you whispered to yourself, standing up. From the corner of your eyes you noticed shadows dancing on the walls of the room, as you moved towards him, the towel falling down at your feet… 

The only source of light in the room was the fireplace, so you could barely make out your surroundings. Rain dropped heavily on the ground outside, its pounding deafening now, as you stepped closer to the owner of the house.

Andrew’s eyes seemed so big and deep now, you could easily drown, their sparkling surface luring you in. He bit his lower lip slowly, looking at you, unblinking, trying to read you, trying to figure out what was on your mystery mind this time… You brought your cold fingers to his cheek, slowly stroking his skin… He knew what you wanted. He didn’t need to guess this time.

Your fingers caught sparks as he leaned his face into your palm, closing his eyelids. As you ran your other hand through his mane of soft brown hair, bringing him closer, so that your rugged breaths were mingling together, he opened his eyes. They were glassy, his irises indistinct… Looking like burning rooms filled with dense smoke. 

“Y/N, if I kiss you now…” he whispered, and you felt every letter he pronounced touch your lips. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

Bare millimeters were separating your lips now. You felt your nipples harden at his words, and it startled you. He was watching you, letting you make the decision that would send you both in a place from which neither of you would be able to come back the people you were before. You would die before you’d let him know what a struggle it was, this balancing on the edge, and still appearing calm. You tried to move your hands, now settled on his broad shoulders, but they didn’t even tremble, as if tied to his body with invisible threads.

“Then… Don’t”, you could barely hear yourself say, before his lips found yours. It was there and then that you knew. You could play a million roles, turn hundred and fifty and visit every country in the world, nothing else would ever provoke that weightlessness in your stomach, that tantalizing soft sensation, grazing your mouth, that trembling in your knees… Nothing at all, but the masterful movements of his lips.

Andrew kissed you like there was no tomorrow, like now and here was all you had. His strong and gentle hands did not miss a millimeter of your skin, caressing your nape as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along your lower lip, tasting you, conquering you little by little… Your hair came slipping in between your mouths, as he sucked on your lower lip, gently. You moaned as he buried his hands in your lush, soaked hair, pulling just enough for you to feel that spring tighten a little in your lower stomach. 

He opened your blouse slowly, twisting each button with his fingers, their tips dancing along your breastbone. Then, all of the sudden, his raw lips were gone, as he distanced himself, drinking you in with his eyes. Your blouse fell open, your underwear now showing. 

Your black lacy lingerie enhanced your femininity, while the hard, purely masculine suit denied it… Getting another torturous eyeful, Andrew leaned forward and kissed you again, with more fervor this time. He knew what he was doing as his mouth explored the valley in between your breasts, your heart beating frantically, making your whole body shudder under his kisses, his tongue skimming over your bones. His hands were now gripping your hips so hard, his fingers were sure to leave bruises the morning after, a sweet and painful reminder of what you’ve done.

You slipped the T-shirt he wore over his head, pressing your forehead against his immediately after, you fingernails scratching his naked chest. His kisses leaving burns along your jawline, he lifted you up easily, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You heard him sigh as his hips crashed into yours, before he lowered you on the ground by the fire, hovering over you. So close… Your bodies were in sync, perfectly aligned now. You felt his heartbeat against yours, your ribcages being the only things separating them from becoming one. His hands slid down your thighs as he propped himself up, getting rid of your pants and underwear… You made short work of his sweatpants, kissing his torso, his taste forever engraved in your lips…

At last, he entered you, his lips grazing your earlobe as you closed your eyes, your soft breath dissolving into the heated air of the room. Pushing your knees up higher, he drove himself deeper into you, every thrust making the tingling inside of you grow. 

This was your love affair. Wordless, silky, flustered and seemingly eternal…

When you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, you came all around him, screaming his name, riding out your orgasm. You felt him ejaculate inside of you, right before the second wave of pleasure rolled over your body, making you bite his shoulder, your eyelids fluttering.

He kissed your eyes, watching your beautiful face. Then he pressed his lips to yours, this kiss unbearably fragile, an aftertaste of all the sensations combined… Under his weight you felt warm and protected and stoned… The feeling you’d trade for nothing in the world.

He rolled off you, careful not to crush you. His hands wrapped around your slick body, his lips placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead…

In that moment, you were infinite.

You both just lay there, listening to the raindrops, still crushing on the ground outside. You savored this moment, yet the emptiness in your chest was growing, no matter how far you tried to push it. Even if you knew what was coming, you still weren’t prepared for it.

Andrew’s breathing eventually became regular, as exhaustion closed his eyelids. He fell asleep, holding you in his arms. Tears accumulating in the corners of your eyes, you kissed him on the lips one last time, before carefully detangling yourself from his gorgeous warm body. 

You got dressed as quickly as you could, your clothes still wet and clinging to your skin. Grabbing his sweater, lying on the sofa, you threw it over your wet blouse. Picking your bag off the floor, you gave him one last look before walking out of his house, and out of his life, for good.

#andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield imagine #smut #angst #fluff #imagine #x reader #reader insert #moony x reader #amazing spider-man #i'm sorry for this #i'm also going to hell