#I was supposed to do some school work spread out over two weeks right

[priniya]

OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY !

when the addams twins arrive at the castle, xavier thorpe doesn’t expect to be interested in one of them.

notes: its been two weeks and im still not over xavier thorpe. xavier thorpe x addams!reader. reader is kinda more open and more emotional than wednesday. mentions of death, teenagers making out, hydes. also unedited, so don’t mind the mistakes pls <3 SPOILERS for the show!!!

masterlist • taglist (click to be added!)

wednesday and you weren’t exactly identical in personality, some would even dare to say you two were polar opposite, but it wasn’t the full truth. you were… similar, however throughout the entirety of your lives, you seemed to be the more open one, the one who wouldn’t mind physical touch with family, and the closest friends. yet, despite things that defined the differences between you, you were still closed off, a facade built around, so hurting you would be harder.

when you arrived at the castle, the principal decided to split you, giving each of you a little space to breathe, after sixteen years of living together, and being attached by a hip. then, you were told by your parents that you’d be the one living alone, which made your heart clutch.

“tragic events occur, when twins are being separated.” you uttered, arms crossed at the chest as you walked down the hallway, looking for a room that was assigned to you. “don’t say i haven’t warned you.”

the room wasn’t like your sisters, you hadn’t had an eccentric, colorful roommate that was willing to become friends with you – for the first time in your life, you were all alone, not sharing anything with anyone.

later, you’ve learnt that mrs. weems assigned a boy to show you around the school, to provide you a, as she stated, fresh start with friends made, because of you, and not your sister. you were fast to notice that xavier thorpe was quite popular amongst the students, and when you walked around the castle with him, rumors were starting to spread like fire.

well, at least he decided to stick up with your throughout the breaks, so you weren’t bothered by people trying to get the reason of your arrival mid-semester. and after a few weeks, you grew to tolerate his presence, some would say you grew to like him.

when you were assigned to help at the weathervane, and found out it was xavier’s doing (he switched his assignment card with yours, and then switched his with someone else), you even smiled a little to yourself.

“wednesday’s friend works here.” you uttered, standing in front of the coffee shop with a still face. you averted your eyes to xavier as he scoffed, brows knitted at your words. “i suppose you know him?” a sigh slipped through his lips as you cound sense that he was bothered by the mention of your sister’s friend.

“it’s the guy i’ve told you about.” he began, and you understood. xavier talked about a lot of things, and if he started to rant, you’d listen to every single word that left his mouth. “the asshole.” you chimed in, making him smile. so you were listening (he had doubts).

you pressed your lips into a thin line, stepping inside the shop with thorpe right behind you, hand somewhere on your lower back, a gesture he would repeat, whenever you had a walk. “wednesday?” you heard an unfamiliar voice spoke out with shock, walking up to you. his eyes followed your partner’s arm, causing him a lot of… unnecessary stress.

“a sister.” you replied. his body relaxed, the same second a relieved sigh left his mouth. nonetheless, you could feel your friend’s muscles stiff by being around the boy who ruined his mural.

before you could even refuse, you were having an orange apron wrapped around your chest, being told to at least have a little smile on your face prior, which lead to the blonde boy laughing at your reaction, and then at the reaction of the owner, when you cursed under your breath.

“colors suit you.” xavier commented, hand running through his hair, trying to get the annoying strands of the face. not even knowing why, you were observing each of his moves. “what?” he asked, a little flustered, which was a rare thing.

without uttering a word, you grabbed a tie from your wrist, pulling him closer, so tying his hair would be easier. when you processed the situation, you blinked twice, heat unwillingly coming to your cheeks, giving them a chance to tint pinkish. “it was annoying.” you whispered, his face right in front of yours.

at the end of the outreach day, you got exhausted, fingertips burnt by accidentally touching the hot surface of the coffee machine, heart pounding by consuming an insane amount of caffeine. you were sitting at your desk, finishing an assignment for ms. thornhill’s classes, a large essay about a certain species, when your hand started to draw all across the page, a scene that you guess would happen in future.

you got your visions randomly, whether you had something to sketch on, or not, it wasn’t as intense as your sister’s ability, but was definitely more trustworthy than hers. a wave of dread washed over you as you realized the picture showed your body, with a monster that killed rowan on top of you, its hand in the air as if it wanted to take a swing at you.

you didn’t even know where you were heading, legs taking the absolute control over you as you entered one of the boys’ wings, finding yourself at the door of xavier’s thorpe, tears threatening to spill.

“he- what are you doing here, what happened?” he let out, pulling you into his room, a worried grimace spreading over his face as he watched you breaking down. tears ruining your makeup, breath so short that you couldn’t catch it a few times, your whole body shaking, scaring the shit out of your friend. “y/n, what is-” words died in his throat as soon as you threw your arms around his neck.

it was a sign for him to shut up, and embrace you in a tight hug. nevertheless, hearing you crying, or just seeing you so vulnerable made his heart itch, a jolt of pain hitting him so suddenly. he let his head rest on yours as his hands caressed your back up, and down slowly.

you pulled away fifteen minutes later, his white t-shirt stained black, because of your smudged mascara and eyeliner, your eyes red, swallowed, and puffy. “i apologize, don’t know what lead me here.” you sniffed as his palm cupped the side of your face as the thumb wiped away your tears.

“shhh, don’t say that.” xavier shushed, his eyes looking directly into yours, the worry on his face never gone. “just tell me what happened, okay? i’m worried.” he whispered, stroking you cheek gently.

“i’m going to die.” your words made the boy tense up, eyebrows knitted together as he tilted his head to the side. “the monster will kill me, i saw it xavier. it-it’s going to rip me apart.” you cracked a humorless laugh. “i overreacted, death will come to all of us, right?”

“yeah, but it won’t take you away from me, okay? i’ll promise.”

you stayed overnight, because xavier said he’d like to have an eye on you, in case something happens (which you thought was an absurd, because what would happen at the castle, but you let down without a fight). at first, you were supposed to sleep on his bed, while he occupied the empty one, but somehow, the two of you ended up in one bed, staying up almost all night to talk.

since that evening, the form of your relationship has shifted. he was the only person to see you without the facade, you’ve built to protect you. and… you’ve got close, extremely close. xavier wanted to protect you, so he offered to spend time with him at the shed. you didn’t even hesitate.

his presence was soothing — for the first time in your life, you liked to have someone next to you, to give you the sense of comfort, and protection, something you’d hardly ever experienced. at the same time, you could witness how the walls around him fell down with each hangout, showing you the real him.

you remember sitting in the yard, on a bench next to wednesday and enid, who couldn’t stop talking about how well did ajax look at the poe cup with his makeup (you wouldn’t admit it, but the only one you looked at that day was xavier, could anybody blame you though?).

“hey.” a familiar male approached the three of you, a shadow of smile hovering over his lips as you turned yourself to him, matching the smile immediately. “could we talk, for a minute?” he asked, eyes focused on you.

“she stays here. we’re going to be witnesses.” wednesday blurted out before you were even able to open your mouth. a sigh, full of misery, left your mouth, but you just nodded, making enid giggle.

“yeah, sure.” he shrugged, not minding their presences. “would you… go to the raven’s with me?” he cracked a smile, his words making your stomach clutch, planting there a warm, unknown feeling.

“i’d love to.” the corners of your lips went a little upward. a scene of you, and xavier both clothed in white, slowly dancing at the dance floor with his hands on your waist. god, just a thought of what may happen at the raven’s made you smile.

“god, i thought you wouldn’t agree.” he chuckled, eyes flew to your friends. “okay, i won’t interrupt anymore. catch you later, right?” you nodded. as soon as xavier left, you were burried in questions by sinclar, who suddenly got so interested in how did you bond with thorpe so fast.

however, your sister didn’t share the enthusiasm with enid as she watched xavier leave with narrowed eyes. “you should be careful.” she muttered, sparing you a glance. “he acts suspicious, you should spend less time with him, in case something happens.”

“don’t worry. i can keep myself safe, wednesday.”

for the next few days you were mostly hanging out with your sister, and her crew, spending a lot of time at the weathervane, keeping an eye on tyler, who wasn’t the most innocent in your eyes, especially when he pinned over your sister.

it was easy to assume that as a child, you weren’t really enthusiastically participating in such trivial activities as school dances, trips, school clubs until you came to nevermore. sometimes, at night, you’d wonder what has gotten into you, making you change so suddenly. then, when you woke to a message from xavier, you always understood where did it come from.

you expected the things between you to end a few days after he showed you around, being left alone with your own thoughts, which could result in running away with wednesday as soon as possible or in going against anything that mrs. weems had planned for you.

but fortunately for you, your friend decided to stick around, making sure you will accommodate yourself at the school, somehow he found protecting you as his mission after getting interested in you. sometimes, you thought that xavier thorpe was like an angel sent from heaven just for you, to be honest — he felt the same way with you.

seeing you, dressed up in the prettiest dress you’ve found in jericho, waiting on him at the entrance of the ophelia hall with a shadow of smile hovering over your lips as you noticed him, wearing a perfectly fitted, white suit, hair tied in a bun. too handsome to keep your eyes off him.

“didn’t expect to see an addams in a white dress.” he let out a laugh, taking your arm gently as you walked down the way to the hall. “you look gorgeous, though. it suits you.”

“enid made me choose it.” you rolled your eyes, earning a small chuckle from your partner. “don’t laugh at me, asshole! it was so hard to convince her to let me pick one on my own.” you punched his arm playfully, stepping into the room.

“it must be weird seeing her around wednesday so much.” you nodded. “it’s so… mind-blowing how different the two of you are. you begin to grow to become grumpy and sunshine, funny.” his laughter rang in your mind, the meaning of his words hitting you after a second.

“did you just call me a sunshine? do i look like a sunshine to you?” you scoffed, turning your head to him with a scowl. “it’s like an insult in my family to be called a sunshine.” you added, getting another chuckle in response.

“if you were dressed in a yellow dress, then you’d be cosplaying the sun.” you could feel his breath on your ear as he laughed, nudging you lightly. “god, i start to regret i agreed on going with you, asshole.”

the rest of the dance was truly wonderful. for the first time, you’ve had as much fun, doing a thing you thought was reserved for someone who came from a normal family, and your family wasn’t exactly the most normal one. most of the time, you spent with your body glued to your partner’s as you danced, barely paying attention to people surrounding you, almost as if there was no one around you. it was also the day, when xavier heard your laugh for the first time, the second you noticed people tripping over the red paint that covered the whole hall (including your dress, and thorpe’s suit).

you didn’t know about the vision your sister had, since you barely have spoken a word to each other as your dates didn’t really get along. you arrived at the door of your room shortly after the dance was cut off. “i have to admit, i had fun.” you cracked a smile at him, hands wrapped around his chest as you slowly pulled him inside.

“see? you’re the sunshine.” he laughed, reciprocating your smile. “sure, does that make you the grumpy, then?” you tilted your head to the side, feeling his hands on your waist. “do you want me to be the grumpy?” a whisper left his mouch, your lips inches away from each other.

“what if i do?” you let out.

before you could add anything else, xavier pressed his lips against yours, closing the gap between you. your hands immediately flew to the collar of his shirt, pulling him even closer as a soft sigh escaped from between your lips. you closed your eyes, the warm feeling appeared in your abdomen once again.

the impact xavier thorpe had on you, made your legs wobbly, unable to stand still as you had to tighten your grip on his shirt to keep you steady. everything felt like a dream, his lips moving against yours, hands tracing around your body, before your back hit the sheets on the bed, not really minding that you’d have to change them later.

then, when you woke up, still in the now-red dress, your friend sleeping next to you, his arm threw over your waist, you felt million things at the time. heart’s pounding in your chest in the moment, when you brushed the hair off his face. a soft smile spread over your lips. then, one significant thing popped up in your mind.

the parents’ visits weekend.

“hey, xav.” you mumbled, shaking his arm gently. “wake up, your dad’s probably waiting for you downstairs, right now.” you didn’t even realize he was up until he groaned at the mention of his dad.

“he’s not.” he replied, fingertips caressing geometrical shapes on your waist. “he texted me, he’s not showing up.” the boy shrugged, showing you the notification on his screen. “excited about having a weekend with your parents, though? missed them?”

“well, kinda.” a sigh left your mouth as you turn your head to him. “it’s good to see them, but not too exciting.” you sent him half a smile, and brought your feet to the cold flooring.

you wished you could say that the parents weekend gave you a great time to bond with your parents, and siblings, but all you got was the vision coming true. you were coming back from xavier’s shed, wanting to have a word with your relatives, when something threw you on the tree with its full strength.

death fascinated you as a child, you wondered what would it be, nonetheless, you’ve always wanted to be in control of your last seconds. maybe killing yourself with a gun by playing the russian roulette, or by jumping off a plane without a parachute, but definitely not by being torn apart by a monster who injured wednesday’s friend, and killed xavier’s roommate.

you didn’t even fight, accepting whatever would happen next, not contemplating whether you’d end up in heaven or hell. limbs cut to flesh, leaving you with scars that would take a whole lifetime to heal. it took you long enough to pass out or die, you weren’t certainly sure.

to your dispair, you were alive, in a coma, but still alive. it was probably the tragic outcome you’d talked about the day you arrived at the school. unconscious, surrounded by your friends, and family at the hospital in jericho.

you regained consciousness late at night with the head pounding like a drum. then, you realized that maybe, xavier thorpe was an angel sent to you from heaven, when you catch a glimpse of him, his head leaned against the white sheets of the hospital bed, your hand intertwined with his. it seemed like he could feel you switching on the bed.

“y/n? oh my god.” he whispered, tightening the grip on your hand. “you’re alive, fuck me, they said there was a slight chance that you’d wake up.” it was all unbelievable for him to see you awaken.

you cracked a soft smile at him in response, head tilted to the side as you murmured. “my death would be more phenomenal that this, since when do you think so lowly of me?” a low chuckled escaped from between your lips. “how long have i been… half-dead?”

“a while, you missed your birthday.” he sighed. “and you also missed, when your sister accused me of being the monster that attacked you, which is funny, you know, because even though her evidences lead to me, i was the one who found you, and took you to mrs. weems, i was the one who sit here most of my free time.”

a week later, a few days before wednesday’s date with her boyfriend, you got out of the hospital, although still weak, so xavier was always somewhere near you to scare off people who was a possible bother.

you were sitting in his room, revising the notes yoko has given you when you left the hospital, and you decided on continuing the semester. a playlist, you’ve made a few hours earlier, was playing in the background as the two of you were minding your things. the first peaceful evening in a while.

“hey, uh. i need to tell you something.” he caught your attention. “i know that it’s partially my fault for your accident, because i should go with you to the castle that day but-”

“xavier-” you started, but he immediately cut you off.

“let me finish, okay?” you nodded. “uh, where was i? the feeling that you’ve might not wake up was destructive, the awareness that i won’t be able to hear you laugh, see you smile or kiss you made me realize how much i don’t want to lose you, and that i love you. love you from the bottom of my heart.” now, he was sitting right in front of you, his hands holding yours gently.

“and i know that everything’s so confusing for you right now, but i’d like to be more than friends.” he mumbled, keeping eye contact with you. “you don’t have to tell me you like me, or love me, you don’t even have to agree i just–”

kissing xavier was the only thing that popped up in your mind, when you thought about cutting him off, one of your hand placed on the back of his neck, the second one patting his cheek. the kiss didn’t last long, because you pulled away after a few seconds. “will you listen to me now?”

“i like you, xavier thorpe. it’s hard to say, but i wouldn’t let someone do anything to you, you know? that kind of like.” a grin appeared on your lips, being quickly matched by the boy. “i’d really like to be your… girlfriend, but you’ll have to give me some time, before i drop the l-bomb, okay?” your boyfriend nodded, closing the gap between you.

happiness wasn’t really made for you. the rumor about xavier being taken away by the sheriff galpin spread around the school quickly enough for you to catch your sister before she left. “what did you do? did you lost your mind?” you grabbed her by the shoulders, fury flickering in your eyes as her face stayed still.

“i told you to be careful with him, he’s the monster that attacked you, eugene, rowan, and the therapist. you’re just dumbfounded now.” she explained.

“you’re wrong.” you sighed. “xavier didn’t do it. he wasn’t able to attack eugene, because we were… making out in my dorm for half the night, he was with me most of the time, so maybe i’m the hyde and his my master, huh?” you let out a scoff, a scowl painted all over your face as you pushed her lightly. “try looking around your boyfriend, and leave mine out of it.”

“emotions took over you, sister. that’s quite unlike you.”

but you couldn’t hear that — you were already on your way to the nightshade’s library, trying to look for something that could free thorpe before it was too late.

unfortunately, you couldn’t find anything until your sister had seen through everything, coming to the conclusion that xavier was far from being a hyde, but it was too late anyway. mrs. weems was dead, and thornhill revived crackstone, trying to put an end to the outcast with tyler as the hyde (quite ironic, though).

you were outside the castle with ajax and enid, looking after the students to stay in a safe distance from the school in case something happens. the gorgon nudged your side lightly, making you look in the same direction as him. xavier, standing without cuffs on his wrists, his eyes focused on you as you swiftly made your way to him.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t get you out earlier, i was thinking about breaking the laws, but then wednesday promised—” you rambled, embracing him in the tightest hug you only could. “sorry, uh… i’m really happy to have you back.”

when everything had come to an end, you were standing at the entrance of the school, your things somewhere next to you as you’ve waited for your boyfriend, who talked to wednesday upstairs. he finally made his way downstairs, noticing you with a smirk, all he could do was to roll his eyes in a playful manner.

“i need to tell you something.” you began, tugging a strand of his hair behind his ear, accidentally brushing his cheek. “i love you. like i’d die knowing i won’t see you again, type of love.”

“god, you really drop the L-bomb right before we have to split up?” he laughed, kissing your forehead lightly. “take it as an invitation to visit me over the summer break, alright?”

“maybe you could visit me, lover boy?”

#xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thrope x you #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe x addams!reader #fluff #xavier thorpe #wednesday show fanfiction #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thrope oneshot #wednesday addams fic #niki’s works 🫂

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 13

Happy Wednesday! This arc is over 20k already. How many of you didn't realize that? I've got a longer segment for you this week. There wasn't really a good place to end it and this brings us to the end of the scene. If you like banter, this segment is for you.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 2.2k

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Jeremy couldn’t help but add, “Be sure to mention us to your dad, Timothy. It’s been ages since we’ve last been able to meet at a gala!”

“Yes, sir,” said Tim. Not that he’d be following through. Assholes. Danny pushed him up a wide staircase that framed the entranceway to get to the second floor.

“Exactly like my parents,” he told Sam.

“I swear, if I didn’t have Gradma Ida, I’d go insane. My room’s this way.”

Sam’s room was so large that not only did she have a double bed and vanity, but also a couch and enough cushions that they were all able to spread out comfortably. Tim and Danny took beanbag chairs next to each other. His friends took the couch while Tucker took a space on the floor and promptly pulled out a laptop and two PDAs. Sam settled in a rocking chair.

Tim laid out the goodies they’d gotten from the corner store. “We brought snacks.”

Sam grabbed a bag of chips. “Thanks. So what’s on the agenda for the night?”

Cassie asked, “Is there anything we can do about the ghosts?”

Danny buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know. I can’t get a close enough read on them to see where any are. And there’s so many that even if I knock one out of a human, another would just take it’s place.”

“Any idea what they might be after?” asked Tim. “The ones last night were wearing uniforms like police officers. And we saw the news report from your school earlier. That one looked like a werewolf.”

“He was wearing a collar,” added Bart. “And his outfit also appeared to be a uniform of some sort, though not a police one.”

All of them stared at Bart.

“You don’t think he was there willingly,” said Sam.

Bart shrugged. “Didn’t look that way to me.”

Danny groaned and leaned over until he was resting his head on Tim’s shoulder. “What am I supposed to do with that? What do I do if he’s not here to attack the town?”

Tim wrapped his arm around Danny to hold him steady. “How much sleep were you able to get between last night and now?”

“Unno,” mumbled Danny. “Three, four hours?”

Cassie clicked her tongue at him. “How about you get some rest tonight and we can figure it out tomorrow. We’ll take the night in shifts and if there’s a large-scale attack again, we’ll wake you up.”

Tim sighed. “Much as I hate to admit it, Cassie’s right. You need to sleep.”

Danny snorted into his neck and Tim couldn’t help the way his cheeks heated at the feel of his breath. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim rolled his eyes. “We all know I’m not a good role model. Do as Alfred says, not as I do.”

“Wayne family moto!” Conner teased. Tim gave him the finger.

“Just one thing to do first,” said Bart.

“Yeah,” added Tucker. “I need to fix up Conner’s phone.”

“Two things, then,” amended Bart.

“What’s the other thing?” asked Sam. “I feel like I’m out of the loop.”

Cassie leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “The Fentons gave us a tour of the lab. We want to arrange a system to get Danny out of Amity if things go bad.”

Tim noted how both Tucker and Sam tensed and exchanged a look. Then Sam nodded. “We’re in. And since you are who you are, which, Danny, we will be talking about how you kept Justice League connections from us later, we’ll trust you to be able to do it.”

“Don’t be mad at him,” protested Tim. “I made him promise to keep my secrets. It wasn’t safe for him to discuss it.”

Tucker waved a hand in the air. “We understand. Doesn’t mean we’re not frustrated with him. Don’t worry about it, though. Your secret’s safe with us.”

Tim bit his lip. “Please. It’s vitally important for my family’s safety that nothing gets out.”

Conner snorted. “Plus Batman would murder you dead if he found out you let anything slip.”

Tim groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’ll have so much paperwork. And would probably be benched for forever.”

Bart laughed and flicked a chip at him. “We’d kidnap you and help you prepare a new hero identity!”

With Danny still leaning on him, Tim couldn’t even catch the projectile and it hit him on the forehead. “I’ll take you up on that if I ever do get benched permanently.”

Sam cleared her throat. “As amusing as this all is, what’s the plan with Danny?”

Danny groaned, but didn’t move. “I don’t need one, guys. It’s not as bad as you think.”

Bart snorted. “Dude, your parents showed us an iron maiden.”

Danny shook his head. “Dad’s the only one who’s been shut up in that. And that was for threatening me and Jazz with it.”

“Um… what?” asked Cassie. “Why does everything you say make me feel more concerned?”

Tucker spoke around a mouthful of jerky. “Because his parents are mad scientists.”

Sam nodded. “No one lives in the houses on either side of his. And the value of every building on the street has plummeted due to proximity.”

Cassie shook her head. “How the hell have they been allowed to do all that? And why haven’t their driver’s licenses been revoked? We saw how they drove that tank of theirs.”

Tucker snorted. “No cop or city official is brave enough to go up to Jack ‘I can run through brick walls’ Fenton and tell him he’s not allowed to do something.”

Sam laughed. “And even if they were, Maddie Fenton has a blackbelt and will hold a grudge.”

“Last night it also seemed like she knows her way around that arsenal she’s got,” said Tim.

“Yeah,” said Danny. “Mom’s the one you’ve got to watch out for when my parents go on the hunt.”

“Okay.” Tim was already thinking up ways to neutralize them. “Us four should be able to handle them. What about Jazz? Is she someone we’d have to worry about?”

Danny pushed himself up and made sure Tim could see him rolling his eyes. “Jazz would never do anything to hurt me.” It was clear Danny believed his statement completely. And, honestly? After all the stories Danny’d told him and meeting Jazz in person, Tim was inclined to believe him. Though Danny wasn’t done. “And my parents would stop if they had any idea I was Phantom.”

Neither Tim nor Danny was as certain about that statement. Glancing around, everyone else seemed to have the same doubts.

“Well,” said Tim. “You know me. And I’ve told you about B. ‘Backup plans’ is my middle name. I’ll feel more comfortable if we have one.”

“Fine.” Danny flopped over until he was laying across Tim’s lap. “But don’t expect me to help.”

Now it was Tim’s turn to roll his eyes, but his fingers were gentle as they brushed through Danny’s hair. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. So, it’s Maddie we’ll have to outsmart. I doubt Jack’s strength is any match for Conner or Cassie.”

“I can get you access to the Fenton house,” said Tucker gesturing to his laptop. “Even if they activate the home defense system.”

Tim nodded. “Thanks. I’ll also get you communicators so you can reach me in case of an emergency.”

“Perfect,” said Sam. “We’ve each other’s cell numbers, too.”

“Yep,” said Tim. “But phones should only be used for civilian identities. If you need the help of heroes, please use the communicators. It’s best to keep things as separate as possible.”

Conner nudged Tim’s foot with his own. “Yep. Tim here won’t let us refer to him by name when he’s in costume. Even if we’re all alone in our own base behind two dozen layers of security.”

“Need I remind you who trained me?”

Cassie laughed. “He’s even worse. You should hear my aunt go on about him.”

Tucker was watching them with interest. “Who’s your aunt?”

Bart disappeared from his spot only to reappear next to Tucker to whisper in his ear.

Tucker’s eyes widened and he stared at Cassie in wonder. “That is so cool! Could you get me an autograph?”

Cassie laughed. “Why so surprised? You know who I am. Did you think I wouldn’t know her?”

Tucker blushed. “Yeah, well. Excuse me for being distracted by the ghost invasion we’re dealing with.”

Tim cleared his throat. “I think we’re getting off topic. Now, we have a way into the Fenton house. Tucker, could you get us all the way into the lab?”

“Easily. I’m fully in all their systems and they’ve no idea.”

“How will we know he’s in trouble?” asked Bart.

Tim bit his lip. “Danny and I already have a system in place where if we don’t hear from each other within seven days without prior warning, we reach out to someone. For me, it’s B’s butler. For him, it’s you Tucker.” He nudged Danny only to realize he had passed out his lap. Tim couldn’t help the fond smile he gave and shook his head. “Tomorrow I’ll propose decreasing that to three or four days.”

Conner nodded. “If none of us hear from one of you for more than four days, we’ll come. Probably me, Bart, or Cassie since we can travel faster.”

Tim grimaced, but nodded. Sometimes it really sucked being the only baseline human in the group.

Bart gave a thumbs up. “I can usually be somewhere in minutes if I’m not tied up doing something else!”

Sam looked them over critically. “You know he’s gonna insist that goes both ways. If you guys don’t check in, he’ll go to you if he can.”

Tucker began typing away on his laptop. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. I’m setting up alerts on the Fenton lab. If they start recording any experiments on an actual ghost, I’ll get a notification. If there’s any indication it’s Phantom, I can have the alert forwarded to you.”

Tim nodded. “Good. Do that.” He looked at his team. “We’ve seen the Fenton’s weapons and some of their fighting skills by now. I don’t think we’ll have any issues subduing them if necessary.”

“Nah,” agreed Cassie. “We can handle them.”

Back to Sam and Tucker, Tim asked, “Do we know what their weapons can do to humans? What risks they pose?”

Sam grimaced. “The small blasters are fine. But some of the bigger weapons? Like the bazooka or the missiles? Those have caused damage to the roads and buildings beyond what the ghosts do.”

“Have there been any casualties?” asked Cassie.

Tucker shook his head. “No. Thank God. It’s all been property damage so far.”

Sam nudged him. “Not quite. You’re forgetting Wes’s brother. Jack broke his arm two weeks ago when he shot at the Box Ghost and knocked over the pile of bricks that was being used to rebuild Mr. Nguyen’s store.”

“Ugh, right. I think I was trying to block that debacle from my mind.”

Tim sighed and shook his head. “I knew it was bad, but Danny really downplayed it.”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, well, this is life in Amity right now.”

“I suppose so.” Tim looked down at Danny who was frowning even in his sleep. “I think I’m gonna get him in a bed. Where will we be sleeping?”

“Probably a good idea,” agreed Sam. “Do you want to share a room?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. We haven’t had any one-on-one time yet. Which is a shame for our first in-person meeting!” Tim laughed and ignored the looks his friends were shooting him as well as the grins Sam and Tucker were exchanging. “Though with our lives, I should’ve expected something like this rather than a purely civilian meeting.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, probably. This is about par for the course for us. Take the room across the hall. If you need the bathroom, if you exit my room, turn left and it’s two doors down on this side of the hall.”

Tim shifted so he could lift Danny up. Despite the shuffling, Danny didn’t open his eyes, though he did grumble indistinct protests.

“Just getting you in a bed,” said Tim.

Conner grabbed the bag that had their belongings in it and opened the doors for Tim. While Tim settled Danny in the bed, even having to remove shoes and socks, Conner separated their things so he would have everything he needed.

“Thanks, Kon.”

“Anytime, Tim. Get some rest yourself, okay?”

Tim huffed a laugh. “Sleep is for the weak.”

Conner shook his head. “You say that and yet at the end of basically every mission, you pass out for twelve hours and are useless for two days.”

Tim stuck out his tongue. “I do have homework to do. And I want to keep my eye on the local news channels. And I need to check in with Bruce again before he flips. Let me know when your phone is working?”

“Will do. See you tomorrow.”

“Night.”

-----

Next

So! They now have a working system for how to find out if Danny's in trouble and to get him out. Hopefully they won't have to use it! (I mean, we all know where this is going. I presume you've all read the original prompt and fill that started this mess.)

Also, thanks to a comment on the last post, I wanted to clarify the relationships in this fic. If you've gotten Core Four (Tim/Kon/Cassie/Bart) vibes from this... Yeah. You did. If you've gotten Everlasting Trio (Danny/Sam/Tucker) vibes from this... Yeah. You did. I'm going to write those groups as a sorta QPR. Eventually, we will have romantic Danny/Tim (hence I've been tagging this Dead Tired) on top of those QPRs, but that won't really happen for a while. First Danny will date Val and Tim will date Steph. Danny will have another relationship, too, that I'm keeping secret for now. None of those are likely to get any page time as I am planning a time skip after this arc. But they will be referenced by characters. The actual Danny/Tim won't happen until after the rescue scene from the original fill. (Which I'm sure you can imagine will be changed quite drastically now that all these characters know each other.)

I no longer do tag lists, but if you head to the Subscription Post, you can set up notifications for when this updates!

#dpxdc #my writing #bring me home #extraction planning #and banter #danny is sleepy #for good reason #and tim will be a hypocrite if it means telling him to sleep #i do not think i will ever write another fic where #'do as alfred says not as i do' #is not said by at least one bat or their friend #(assuming i can fit it in of course) #i doubt i'm the first to use it #but i havent seen it elsewhere #so feel free to steal it if you want

[quinns-shadowy-arts]

Steve's Perfect Mixtape

Day 8 of @steddielovemonth‘s Steddie Love Month Event!   Rating: General CW: None Tags: Getting Together, Love Confessions, Eddie’s a Romantic, Tooth Rotting Fluff. WC: 1,308 Prompt: “Love is the perfect mixtape”; Submitted by @thefreakandthehair and “Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him”; Submitted by anonymous  

Eddie’s been thinking about this for months. He’s had the small cassette tape tucked into the depths of his dresser drawer since March. He started making the mixtape the same week he found out when Steve’s birthday was.

It was the night of January 24th. Big, fat snowflakes were falling from the sky. Steve and Eddie were sitting on the living room floor of the Munson’s new trailer. They were passing a joint between the two of them, relaxing and listening to some of Eddie’s tapes. They were sharing secrets and stories, lips loose from the weed. 

“I’m going to be 21 in April, isn’t that crazy?” Steve had asked. Eddie didn’t really think that was all that crazy if he was being honest. 

“I was supposed to be in college right now. Studying to take my dad’s spot as CEO or whatever.” Steve had looked over at Eddie before looking back up at the ceiling. Eddie’s heart squeezed at the thought. 

“Do you- Do you wish you were in college?” Eddie asked, looking at the slope of Steve’s nose; straight and gorgeous. Steve looked back over at Eddie, taking a hit of the joint he’d been hogging, before responding.

“I used to. I felt like a failure for not being accepted, still sorta do. But I’m happy now that I didn’t. If I hadn’t been rejected from all the schools I applied for, I wouldn’t have Robin. I wouldn’t have worked at Scoops and wouldn’t have ever met her, y’know?” Eddie nodded. Steve made eye contact with Eddie and kept going.

“I wouldn’t have met you either. I’m happy here, with you. I would kill to be here with you, sitting on the floor and shooting the shit, rather than at some stuffy school, studying for a boring future that I don’t even want. I’m more than happy, here with you.” Steve smiled at Eddie. Eddie pulled a chunk of hair in front of his face, trying to hide the heat spreading across his face.

“Aw shucks, Stevie.” Eddie teased. Steve chuckled at Eddie’s theatrics.

“When is your birthday?” Eddie asked, still holding the hair over his face. 

“April 17th, 1967. You?” Steve quirked his eyebrow at Eddie. 

“August 8th, 1966” Eddie responded.

The next day, Eddie was brainstorming things he could get Steve for his birthday. He toyed around with the idea of something sportsy, maybe some compression socks or something. But that felt too simple and disingenuous. It was a gift you would get for a coworker, not a friend you’ve spilt blood and battled demons with.

Eventually the idea struck Eddie like an arrow. Eddie loved music, believed it was one of the best ways you could connect with someone. You could learn a lot about someone from their music taste. So Eddie started crafting Steve's Perfect Mixtape™.

He spent weeks choosing the songs, listening to Top 40’s pop songs to assemble the perfect selection of songs. After choosing what he deemed were “the best songs” (and Steve’s favorites of course), he listened to them for hours on end, trying to figure out the perfect order. The order that would flow into itself in the most satisfying way. 

By the beginning of March, he had perfected the tape. He had finally recorded all of the songs down onto one tape. He had labeled the tape as what it was, “Stevie’s Perfect Mixtape”. It held Steve’s favorite songs, such as “Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears and “Sunglasses at Night” by Corey Hart. He tucked the tape into his dresser, hoping to keep it safe and secret until Steve’s birthday.

Finally, Steve’s birthday had come. Steve planned for everyone to come over, nothing too extravagant. He used to throw absolute ragers, back when he was King Steve, but he much preferred the simple hang outs with his closest friends. 

Eddie dug the tape out from the back of his drawer and wrapped it in some wrapping paper he found in Wayne’s closet. He tucked the cassette into the pocket above his heart. He hopped into his van and drove over to Steve’s house. 

Steve’s party was chill, including only the kids and older teens. They hung out in his living room, songs flowing from Steve’s speakers. They all played games and ate pizza, the older teens drinking mainly beer while the youngins drank soda. The party continued on until the late evening. Everyone would’ve stayed longer, but the gremlins had school and everyone else still had curfews. 

Robin had gone with Nancy, Mike, and Lucas while Jonathan and Argyle carted Will and Dustin home. Which had left Steve and Eddie alone. Steve was happy to have the company still, wasn’t exactly looking forward to falling asleep alone. Eddie still hadn’t given Steve The Tape yet, had wanted to wait until they had some privacy. 

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie called out. Eddie stood in front of the couch while Steve was in the kitchen. Steve walked into the living room at the sound of Eddie’s voice.

“Yeah, man? Is everything ok?” Steve’s eyebrows were furrowed with concern. 

“Yeah, everything’s ok. I just had a present I needed to give you.” Eddie said. Steve’s concern melted away, making him look light and happy. 

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that.” Steve said, but he smiled and walked towards Eddie. Eddie reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the little wrapped rectangle. He handed it over to Steve. Steve grabbed onto it and started pulling away the wrapping. 

“Is this a mixtape?” Steve looked up at Eddie while tugging the last remaining half of paper off. A note fell to the ground as he did so. Steve looked down and picked it up, tucking it underneath the cassette tape as he read off the song list.

“You put “Bad Boys” on here?” Steve smiled up at Eddie. It was one of Steve’s favorite songs, he had only told Eddie about his love for it, 

“Yeah, I know how much you love Wham!, and it reminded me of us a little bit” Eddie smiled at Steve, it was one of Eddie’s favorite songs now too. Steve finished reading off the list before pulling the note out from underneath the tape; he unfolded it up and began to read it. 

As Steve read through the note, Eddie’s heart had started to pump at top speed. He pulled a lock of hair over his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. Steve’s wide smile morphed into something smaller; something private and sweet. He bit at his bottom lip, tears springing to his eyes. After a couple of minutes, he looked up at Eddie. 

“Do you really love me?” Steve’s voice wobbled with emotion. Eddie nodded,

“Yes, Stevie. I really love you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I just needed to let you know. You deserve to know that someone loves you.” Tears trickled down Steve’s cheeks, his smile remained on his face.

 He pulled Eddie into a hug, Eddie’s head landing against his chest. Steve’s hand held Eddie’s head in place, his face pressing against the top of Eddie’s frizzy hair. Eddie could hear the rapid thumping of Steve’s heart against his ear. He listened to the rhythmic Thump thump thump of Steve’s heartbeat while Steve pressed kisses against the top of his head. 

“Thank you” Steve whispered out, voice overflowing with emotion. He squeezed his arms tighter around Eddie. 

“I love you too, for the record” Steve smiled even wider, even though Eddie couldn’t see it. Eddie turned his head and kissed at the spot above Steve’s heart. He pressed his ear back to Steve’s pec. He listened as Steve’s heart calmed down into something tender. 

Ba-bump   Ba-bump   Ba-bump

Both their hearts thumped with love, full of affection and joy. This really was the perfect mixtape. 

#steddie fanfic #steddielovemonth #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tooth rotting fluff #steve harrington loves eddie munson #eddie munson loves steve harrington

[kittycatsheros9]

Ethan landry x Cheerleader!reader Part 2

Word count: 1567

Warnings: kissing, male oral, fingers in mouth, there’s praises

Notes: only one person requested part 2, but I must satisfied the people, even if it’s one person 😂

You were close to failing. Exams were two weeks away and you didn’t understand a word your Econ professor would say. All you heard was nonsense after nonsense. Basically, all you would do in that class was daydream. Mostly daydreaming about cheerleading. And right now, your spot on the Blackmore cheer team was in danger. If you failed this class, you could be kicked off. And you didn’t need that.

What you did need was a tutor. Someone to help you understand all this gibberish that came out of your Econ professors mouth. Luckily you knew someone. That someone always sat right behind you in class. The only reason you knew he was smart, was him answering 99.9% of the questions the professor would ask. And he always got them right.

“Hey E, can I ask a question?” You quietly asked him.

He looked up from his paper to gaze at your lips and then your eyes. What if you had figured him out. His biggest secret. It made him feel all dirty inside but he couldn’t help it. He really enjoyed spending his time just imagining you. Imagining you in different positions. Your face would be all screwed up. Your eyebrows furrowed. Eyes almost shut. Your mouth slightly opened for you to whimper. And your hair would stick to your forehead. Ethan would do round after round with you.

His dirty thoughts got interrupted. You had tapped his desk, wanting his attention. But he heard you the first time, not needing you to repeat. So he nodded his head. You gave him a soft smile before voicing your question.

“I was wondering if you could tutor me, for Econ…please”

Ethan let out a sigh from his lips. So you didn’t figure him out. And he was so thankful for that. He wanted to help you, so he responded.

“Yeah of course, maybe I can tutor you today?”

After Econ ended, you and Ethan exchanged numbers. You picked out a time that would work for both you and him. So your plan worked out. You and Ethan were set to study tonight. It would’ve been earlier in the day, but you had cheer practice.

That was Ethans last class of the day. He walked back to his dorm all giddy and filled with excitement. He was going to have you in his dorm, all alone, maybe no clothes on. If it worked out in his favor. He had to tell Chad not to stay in the dorm tonight. He needed and wanted to have you to himself.

Hours passed. Chad was now gone. Out with Tara on a date. Ethan felt like time was moving impossibly slow. He was spread out onto his bed. One hand behind his head and the other on his stomach. He looked over at his desk. His eyes reached the clock. 8:59 pm. You were supposed to come over at 9. But what if you were late. His thoughts were cut off short by the knocks. It was you. He immediately rose off his bed.

He opened his door and displayed a wide grin. There you were. In a tank top and comfy shorts. Your arms carrying your school notebooks. He opened his door wider. A sign for you to walk in. So you did. You two got to studying. Him having to repeat some topics but that was okay. It didn’t bother him. With the time getting later and later. He noticed you getting closer to his body. You had asked him if you could ask a question. Assuming it would be about Econ, he nodded.

“Can I Kiss you E?” You tilted your head and moved your eyes down to his lips. His tongue went out to wet them. You knew what you were doing. And thankfully, he did too. So he fastly nodded. You giggled at his eagerness.

You tightly grabbed ahold of his shirt and pulled him in. Your face slightly lower at this angle. You looked up at him with your doe eyes. He looked at your eyes but quickly closed them. Waiting to feel your lips on his. You started off by giving two soft pecks. It wasn’t fueling Ethan’s needs. So he cupped both of your cheeks. Pulling your face closer and properly sealing your lips to his. He groaned at the feeling of the softness. Never wanting to let go.

You climbed into his lap. Your legs straddling him, then sitting down on his hardened dick. Ethan whimpered at the feeling of the pressure. Letting go from your cheeks, he put his hands on your hips. Helping you move back and forth on his clothed dick. Loving every second of it.

You pulled your arms around his neck. Letting them rest there. Hands reaching into his curls. You tugged them tightly. He bit your bottom lip. Wanting access to feel your mouth. You slightly opened. Immediately feeling his tongue clashing against yours. You were still moving your hips in a back in forth movement. Ethan now rutting his hips up into your clothed cunt. It was all so much.

Ethan was the first to pull away. Already missing your lips, but he needed to breathe. Now only sounds of heavy breathing filled the dorm. You stared deep into his eyes. Watching them frantically move. He was staring from eye to eye. Then looking down at your red, puffy lips. You shivered at the silence and spoke up.

“Can I suck your dick?” You spitted out fastly.

You looked back at Ethan’s eyes and watched them widen. He felt like he was about to pass out. Maybe he was in one of those daydreams again. But you reached down and touched his dick. And no he wasn’t in one of those dreams. It was all real. He muttered out a yes, also nodding at the same time.

So you pushed at his torso. Needing him to fully lay back. You looked back at his pants and unbuttoned his jeans. At first you only pulled down his jeans. Not wanting to get into it too fast. You looked at him and palmed him against his boxers. A loud moan broke the silence. You smirked, knowing you were making him feel good.

You pulled down his boxers, letting them rest on his thighs. As where his jeans were. Now all you could stare at was his dick. It was thick, and maybe seven inches. It was the perfect size. You moved your body towards his dick more. Spitting on his tip. Watching his hands tug on his sheets. You reached your hand down. You started from his tip and moved down. You stroked him. And moans slipping out of his mouth.

“Does that feel could Eth?” You asked. You already knew the answer by the sounds he was creating. But just wanted to make sure.

“Yeah baby, fuck you’re doing so well” he praised you. You blushed at his response. Ethan praising you was something you didn’t know you needed.

You moved your body downwards. You coming face to face with his dick. You opened your mouth to just suck his tip. His hands found a place in your hair. Only lightly squeezing some strands. Your mouth moved father down. About halfway. Letting one hand reach around him. Stroking the part of him that wasn’t in your mouth. A couple of strokes and you moved your hand away. Pushing yourself all the way down. Hearing a “fuck” and whimpers fall from his lips.

You continued to bob your head up and down his dick. His hands helping you with these movements. You wanted to do something different. So you pulled his dick out of your mouth. Kitty licking the tip. Then licking all the way down to his balls. You heard him breathe heavily.

“Shit, I didn’t know you could be such a dirty girl” He rambled out.

You heard his moans and whines in between his words. You hummed at his sentences. Now licking and sucking one ball. You started to stroke his dick. Then you moved to his other ball, doing the same acts. Licking and sucking. In your hand you felt his dick twitch. A sign of him close to cumming.

“I’m bouta cum, im bouta cum” he said like a chant.

So you moved your attention back to his dick. He hit the back of your throat. You moved up to only his tip to tease him. But his hands pushed you all the way down. His dick hitting the back of your throat again. Your nose touched his pelvis. You stared up at him, while he looked down at you. Words leaving his lips, but you couldn’t hear.

You felt his hot cum spur out of him. You tried to pull back. You needed to breathe. But he didn’t let you. Even though he felt your hands claw at his thighs. A sign to let him know to pull out. He was too in the moment to pull back.

Once he came down from his high, you felt his hands pull out of your hair. You pulled his dick out and pulled your body up. You smiled and stuck your tongue out. He sat up and stuck two fingers in your mouth. Making you suck. He pulled them out to wipe your spit on your lips.

“Shit baby, such a good girl”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry x reader #scream 6 #scream smut

[maevesheart]

let’s make a deal

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ she-devil (02)

PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

summary: slapping peter parker has its consequences. but mr stark and your father make sure that this “community service” will work out in both of their favors. but that means asking things neither you nor peter may be able to do.

WC: 2k

TW: swearing

“what?!” your loud voice cuts through the tension in the small office of your principal.

your father’s face is hard and stern, and he hasn’t spoken a word the whole time.

he is sat to your left, peter is to your right, and peter’s aunt may is on his other side.

“there is no way i’m doing that,” you laugh, shaking your head.

“excuse me, mr morita, could you repeat that?” you father asks, raising an eyebrow.

he is just as upset as you are. this is pointless. as far as he can see; you stood up for yourself.

“of course, mr griswold. here at midtown, we do not condone violence of any kinds. miss griswold’s harassment of mr parker today in the cafeteria violates our school rules. since i am the principal, and i am in charge of keeping our school safe, i must give miss griswold a punishment.”

he finishes, looking at the four of you.

peter and you are sat as far away from each other as possible. his aunt has an anxious look on her face, and you feel sort of bad.

maybe you shouldn’t have slapped him…

no! y/n shut up! he spread lies about you! you are in the right, not him.

“i understand, mr morita, but i’m sure a weeks suspension is a little dramatic,” your father put on his work voice, demanding and frightening.

you found yourself wincing at his words. he was the only person you were ever scared of.

“my father’s right, sir, i only stood up for myself,” you defended, putting on your puppy-dog eyes.

“i’m sorry, miss griswold, but if you wish to change your punishment, you must go to the board of education.”

you sigh, pretty much accepting the defeat.

wait! this is peter’s fault, so why shouldn’t he go down too?

“mr morita, if i may,” you start,

“of course,”

“like i said, i was only standing up for myself. i felt attacked by peter’s cruel words and he was spreading lies about me. lies that include activities which i did not partake in. he is practically sexualizing me, which if i’m not wrong, goes against rule 142 of school conduct. surely he should receive some sort of punishment as well.” you reasoned, planting a sweet tone and a charming smile.

you watched the corners of your fathers mouth twitch into a smirk.

“you are right, miss. i suppose mr parker has broken rules as well. two weeks of community service for the both of you. that’s all.” he dismissed the four of you with the wave of his hand, and you and your father exited with grins on the both of your faces.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

COMMUNITY SERVICE; DAY ONE

when your matte black mclaren pulls up into the parking lot where you’re meeting peter, you immediately don’t want to be there.

after you left the school yesterday, peter had given you his number so you two could communicate on where to work. mr morita said the only way he would let you both back was if you did the work together.

you were dreading it.

the minutes felt like hours, so when peter finally walked up to you, you thought you had been sitting there for seven hours.

he eyed you, and raised an eyebrow at your outfit.

you were wearing black tights, a burberry skirt, a white turtleneck sweater, and knee-high black chanel boots. what was so wrong with your outfit?

you gave him a look and crossed your arms over your chest. normally you didn’t care what people thought of you…

“god this sucks!” you breathed out, throwing your head back.

peter rolled his eyes, and sat down next to you.

“listen, y/n, i’m sorry about what you think i did, but i suggest that we somehow find a way to work together to get this over with,” he spoke, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

“whatever, peter, i don’t really care!”

he shook his head and stood up, walking over to the woman with the clipboard.

you watched him walk away and huffed, he was getting on your nerves way more than you expected.

deep down, you knew that he didn’t say the things harry said he did. harry was like that though; he loved drama, and usually started it on his own.

once peter came back, he was carrying two black trash bags, and two metal sticks.

“what are those?” you asked, reluctantly taking them from him.

“our community service. now stand up,”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

“peter! i’m tired. can we rest?” you pleaded, watching him pick up crushed soda cans.

“fine. but only five minutes,” he sighed, shaking his head at your laziness.

he had done all the work, the only thing you could really said you did was complain.

sighing as he slumped down next to you, his head shot up as you squealed next to him.

“gregor!” you jumped up, running to the black bentley that pulled up next to the gazebo the two of you were seated at.

he stood up and hesitantly followed you, unsure of this strange man.

gregor — the man you ran to — offered peter a smile as he got out of the backseat, and extended his hand once peter was within reach.

“doctor gregor mathers. you must be peter parker, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

peter examined the man before giving his hand.

they shook hands for a slight moment before you started practically climbing doctor mathers.

“pleaseee tell me you’ve come to save me! i need to get out of here!” you begged, inching closer and closer to the car door.

“yes, i have actually. the both of you. your father wishes to meet with you both.” gregor said sternly, motioning towards the car.

you climbed in immediately, gregor slid in next to you, and then when peter got in, he was across.

gregor told the driver to head for gris-rise, the building that held griswold tech, the company your father owned.

gregor had heard of peter’s internship at stark industries — the competition for your fathers company — so he was hesitant when your father announced he wanted both you and peter to come to his office.

one thing was for sure, gregor would be keeping an eye on peter.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

the elevator ride up to your father’s office was quiet and tense.

peter awkwardly stood opposite of you and gregor, and continuously shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

he watched you carefully as you applied lipstick using the long mirrors along the whole elevator. gregor stood closely next to you, keeping an eye on peter.

the doors chimed and opened wide, presenting your fathers completely glass office. 50 foot walls lined the entire room, completely dark grey glass windows.

his dark mahogany desk sat in the middle, with two grey plush chairs across from it.

your heeled boots clicked on the marble floor as you waltzed up to your father, who was faced away from you, standing up and staring out one of his many windows.

“hi, daddy,” you smiled, giving him a peck on the cheek as he turned around. “hello, darling,” he spoke back, turning around and facing peter and gregor with a glimmering smirk.

“welcome to gristech, peter parker.”

peter’s chest tightened as he lightly squinted, taking in your fathers smile. his teeth glinted white in the bright office, and he looked almost sinister.

peter lightly nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat, next to gregor.

“gregor you’re free to go, my biggest thank yous.” your dad smiled, giving gregor a squeeze on the shoulder.

“of course, ken. i’ll be back shortly,” gregor said, giving you a tight lipped smile and nodding to peter as he walked past him.

the sound of his expensive dress shoes echoed in the open room as you and peter were ushered to your fathers desk.

peter reluctantly sat down next to you, uneasily looking around and trying to find the quickest way to escape.

“i’m very happy you agreed to come here, mr parker. i’m kennedy griswold, ceo and president at gristech, but please just call me ken.” a bright smile once again exposed itself on your fathers face.

“of course, sir.” peter said, lightly bowing his head.

“now, i spoke to midtown, and principal morita agreed to let me bend the conditions of your community service just a bit. i figured you two would quickly tire of the slaving away they had you both doing. so instead, i’ve had both of you transferred here. to be my interns for these 2 weeks.”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

AVENGERS TOWER

tony’s fingers pressed into his temples, listening to peter jabber about what ken griswold had told him.

gristech was stark industries biggest competitor. obviously, tony wasn’t happy, but he figured that this could be used to his advantage.

“listen kid,” tony started, placing a hand on peters shoulder, “ken griswold is no dummy. in fact he might almost be as smart as me. there’s definitely a reason he’s doing this, and it’s not for his daughter; lord knows he’s never cared about his family. especially after what he did to his wife… but that’s besides the point.”

peter gave tony a confused look, wondering where he could be going with this.

“i want you to keep a close eye on ken griswold. see his next moves, what he’s making now. then come tell me. we will always be a step ahead.”

“sir, i don’t know if i’m cut out for it. you know i’m clumsy and sometimes stupid and,” peter awkwardly laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“you’re smart, parker. you’ll do what’s right, you think with your heart. just don’t trust the girl, she’s beautiful, yes, but she’s a little devil. i’ve heard the things she’s done.”

tony was talking about you, of course.

“make her fall for you. make her trust you. make her feel like she can tell you anything. get her to tell you everything. we need this information to get ahead, parker.”

peter shook his head. he wasn’t cut out for that. how could tony expect him to fake feelings for you when he’s loved you for years? how would he live with himself?

“mr stark…”

“i’m counting on you, kid. don’t let me down.” tony gave him a rough pat on the back, and left the room, leaving peter alone with his thoughts.

his jumbled, twisted thoughts. thoughts that were going to eat him alive.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

GRIS-RISE

“no! i absolutely will not be doing that!” you screeched, appalled that your father thought you would ever associated yourself with peter parker.

“y/n arabella griswold. this is not me asking. this is me demanding. you will get peter parker to trust you, and you will get peter parker to tell you everything he knows about stark industries. i do not care what it takes. want a new chanel? consider it done.”

“daddy! i don’t want to! i hate peter parker! how can you make me do this after those things he said about me?” you we’re shocked. your father was a bad man, you knew this, but he wasn’t evil.

this was out of character of him.

yet, as always, you complied. you would do anything for your fathers approval, something you had been seeking all your life.

you never had a problem getting approval from your mother. she was beautiful, and kind. like a ray of sunshine. your father was dark and gloomy like a thunderstorm. they balanced each other out.

ever since your mothers death when you were a mere child, things hadn’t been the same. your father turned dark and cold and shut you and georgie out.

so of course, if it meant you had to make peter parker fall in love with you to make your father proud, you’d do it.

it can’t be that hard, can it?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spiderman x reader #spiderman #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker tom holland #ned leeds #mj watson #gwen stacy #liz allan #harry osborn #marvel #imagine #angst #tom holland #tom holland spiderman #she devil series #maeve writes 🎀

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

14:25 ー TAMARACK BAUMANN. honey ain't got nothin' on you, 'cause you're sweeter.

Summers are different in Golden Grove.

Truthfully, Golden Grove feels different no matter the season. For a town called Golden Grove, autumn is the season that suits it best. When the leaves are shades of red, oranges and golds and there's a pleasant chill in the air. Summer, to you, is just when it is the most apparent.

When you were still a child, experiencing your first Golden Grove summer, it was exciting. There was no school so you had all the free time in the world to explore the forest surrounding the cul-de-sac you call home. It had changed, with its green leaves and the sorts of seasonal critters inhabiting it.

When you were much younger, that meant more goodies for you and Tamarack to find and bring home.

Now that you're a teen with more of a mind to hate the summer heat, summer has lost its appeal. You can tell it has also lost its appeal to Tamarack who sits squarely in front of the fan in front of your desk, cheeks flush from the heat. Summer is only enjoyable in small increments, you believe. If there's too much, all the energy gets sapped out of you and you lose the drive to do much of anything.

Case and point, the wig you are supposed to be practicing your braiding on. Now that wig and the mannequin head you placed it on lie abandoned on the floor while you lie eagle spread across your bed. You haven't even begun braiding it. Not even Tamarack could make herself sit and practice her cello in this sort of heat.

Why do conventions have to be in the summer? There are only three major conventions in Oregon ー WasabiCon, Ani-Medford and KisuuCon ー and only two of the three take place at a time your mother accepts. "Why do conventions have to be in the summer," you groan once more, this time for everyone in your room to hear. "Is this really the curse I have to bear for quality cosplay?"

"Autumn can't come quickly enough," Tamarack murmurs in agreement. Autumn may come at the cost of school's return but it's the perfect season for everything. Her ruby eyes glance at your lack of progress. "Maybe you can practice later tonight instead?"

You shake your head, pushing yourself into sitting. "No, if I wait until then, I'll just put it off until tomorrow and do the exact same thing again." Then you'll put it off and put it off, citing the summer heat as the culprit, until finally the weekend of your chosen convention arrives and you have an incomplete cosplay. That's what happened last year when you were 14, you'd rather not make it habit. "I'll work on it now."

You just need motivation. Proper motivation.

That can wait until you've gotten yourself something cold to drink, however. "There's lemonade in the fridge if you want some."

"Please," Tamarack pleads.

The trip downstairs to the kitchen is quick yet arduous as you shuffle through the less cool parts of your house. You can only hope your mother is having a better time where she works. You hope everyone you know is doing better than you are right now.

Serenity is out of town visiting family in the Bay Area.

Vianca and Qiu are at ballet practice in an air conditioned building.

Ren is with her family kayaking for the week so you're sure she isn't minding the heat in the slightest.

As for Baxter, he's off at his fancy university in Virginia. You never really reconnected with the guy before he left either, so you can only hope he's somewhere that has good air conditioning, if any.

So to your knowledge, you and Tamarack are the only ones suffering in a building too old to have an air conditioner. You and Tam, ever a pair. Even if that means suffering during summer vacation together.

"I'm back with the goods," you announce needlessly when you return to your room. Tamarack's already reaching for a glass before you reach her, gratitude all over her face. You're happy to be directly in front of the rotating fan, relishing how it feels on your sticky skin. The tangy-sweet chill of the lemonade is a wonderful accompaniment.

Tamarack cups her glass in both her hands much like how one would carefully hold an injured pigeon. You feel a warmth more comfortable than the sweltering summer heat permeating through your room.

Thick, fluffy hair that shines gamboge pulled into a messy bun. Dappled in an autumn sparkle that never goes away even in another season.

Berry-red eyes that are much too pretty for this world and as expressive as they come.

All things that make Tamarack Baumann 'Tamarack Baumann'.

Tamarack is here. Truly here and she isn't going anywhere. That was the resolution of everything that happened last year when you were 14. No more moving scares, no more hypothetical surprises haunting your every waking moment. Tamarack Baumann is a true blue resident of Golden Grove and you won't let anyone forget it.

"What is it?" Tamarack catches your staring and you're sure that you see her cheeks flush a deeper color. You take satisfaction in knowing the summer heat isn't the only thing that is making her face red.

Yes, this is the life.

"Nothing," you smile into your glass.

"You're thinking something," Tamarack insists with a playful yet embarrassed lilt.

"I'm just thinking about your hair, that's all," you tell her smoothly. You can talk about how your world has become much more vibrant since the confirmation Tamarack wouldn't be moving anywhere another day. "It's really pretty. You're pretty."

You remember thinking Tamarack was the prettiest person you'd ever seen when you popped out of that pile of leaves. Your opinion has yet to change now that you are 15, you doubt it ever will.

Almost instinctively, Tamarack pushes a lock of her hair behind her ear in her embarrassment. "You're the pretty one."

"We have to agree to disagree on who is the pretty one in this relationship," you close your eyes petulantly. Dorothea Baumann would tell you both that you're equally the pretty one in this relationship, but where's the fun in that when you know you're right? As far as you're concerned, if Tamarack suddenly decided she wanted to pursue a career in modeling you would be right there at every audition.

It's then, you feel as if you've struck gold.

"Can I practice on your hair?" Tamarack raises a thick eyebrow. She's stopped plucking them recently, no longer self-conscious about how they look. "My braiding, I mean." Before your girlfriend can smartly argue about the heat, you already present your counter arguments. "We can stay in front of the fan without it rotating! And I'll only take out the parts I'm working on."

Tamarack's face scrunches thoughtfully before she ultimately relents. "Only as long as you don't take everything out," she smiles lightly.

Yes!

A press of a button to stop your fan from moving about the place and you're too happy to be running your fingers through Tamarack's hair. It's always been soft, carefully maintained by her grandmother. Now that she's old enough to care for it herself, Tamarack's haircare is still delicately maintained.

Maybe I should run my model Tamarack idea by her again, you think humorously. Nothing will come of it. It's merely a long-standing joke between you both. Modeling is a career you both know wouldn't make Tamarack happy in the slightest. It's for the best. All the other models would be out of work if Tamarack was there.

"I don't feel any braiding," Tamarack notes in a sing-songy voice.

Guilty as charged, you grin, "I'm just making sure I've got the right amount of hair for this section, that's all."

Tamarack's playful hum of disbelief is her only response before you begin.

a request from @luv-indigo that sounded really adorable so i wanted to give it a spin as something set between steps 2 and 3. autumn is personally my favorite season, so i love that's the season that olnf is perpetually set in. but i do get curious as to what life could be like in the mountain down during a different season and thought this scenario was the perfect excuse for it! (disclaimer: this is something written pre-release of olnf)

#look she's writing #timestamp #our life: now & forever #olnf #our life #our life x reader #tamarack baumann #tamarack baumann x reader #tamarack x reader

[bullet-prooflove]

Muffled Screams #3: The Man In The Corner - Will Halstead x Reader

Mentions of mental health issues.

Part One: Muffled Screams

Part Two: Wonderland

The man in the corner was smiling, bloody lips hiked up towards his ears, extended by white ragged scars that were indented into his weathered flesh. His teeth were bared, making him look maniacal. He was swathed in shades of yellow. A chequered waistcoat. A haphazard bowtie. A worn black top hat made of threadbare silk.

Your heart rate accelerated; black spots pockmarked your vision as you felt your chest constrict.

“Are you seeing him now?”

Doctor Charles’s voice tugged your attention away from the man in the corner and back to his kindly features. You could still feel his gaze upon you, intense and unrelenting. It made that spot in between your shoulder blades tingle, the sensation spreading across your shoulders and down your bandage covered biceps.

“Yes. He’s in the corner.”

“And what is he doing?” Doctor Charles asked as your eyes shifted back to the corner of the room.

“Staring.”

Doctor Charles looked down at his notes.

“And you call him The Mad Hatter, as in Alice in Wonderland?”

“Hm.” You murmured, pursing your lips as you bowed your head.

“We talking Johnny Deep or more old school?” Doctor Charles asked, putting his hand to his heart. “Because that adaption was borderline terrifying to me.”

“Neither.” You shook you head. “He looks like…” You tried to piece together the fragments of your memory, it was like moving through water, resistance, and fluid. You tried to grasp the threads, managing to snag one between your fingers. “I had this case a few years ago, a man who had been slashed ear to ear so his smile…”

“That sounds horrific.” He said softly.

“Yea.” You said quietly, your eyes straying to The Mad Hatter. “It is.”

“And is he there sometimes or all of the time?”

“Sometimes.” You told him, your fingernails scratching across the bandages on your wrist. The skin was itchy underneath, flesh knitting together, scabbing over, allegedly healing. “It’s better since the medication.”

“You know it’s only been a few days; the anti-psychotics can take four to six weeks for you to feel the full effect.”

Four to six weeks…

And that was if they worked the way they were supposed to. It had been explained to you that it was about finding the correct dosage, the right medication and that took time.

Doctor Charles must have read the expression on your face. He leaned forward in his chair tilting his head so that he could meet your eyes.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you are actually at a very good point in your recovery. You are aware that your delusions are just that. Delusions. A lot of people with psychosis don’t have that ability, they live in their own reality and that makes it incredibly hard to treat them because it’s everyone else that has the problem, not them. The good news is that you’re able to differentiate, that’s a positive step in the right direction. I think a few more days and we should be able to treat you as an outpatient.”

The thought of going home was terrifying. This thing bleeding into your life, infringing on it. Being here in the hospital felt like you were suspended in reality, it was safe in a way, comforting. You were sheltered from the outside world. A barrage of sights and sounds that could trigger you at any moment. It was overwhelming, the air seemed to rush out of the room.

You weren’t sure you had the energy to do this. To try and live with his man watching over your shoulder, to feel his gaze on your skin, to not know when he was going to appear. Earlier this morning you had woken up to find yourself alone in your hospital room for the first time in days and it had been the blissful until he’d popped up into your vision like some deranged jack in the box. Will had entered the room to find you in the throes of a panic attack, your palm pressed to your racing heart.

Will…

There wasn’t just you to think about, the two of you shared an apartment. You were bringing this mess into his life, right now he had a reprieve, a place he could go when things became too much, when you became too much. As an outpatient you wouldn’t be the only one forced to deal with your new reality.

“Hey,” Doctor Charles said gently, his hand coming to rest upon your shoulder. That simple touch was grounding, bringing you back into the present and quieting your spiralling mind. “It’s normal to feel anxious, your world has just been flipped upside down, what we’re doing is trying to right it.”

You nodded your head, trying to swallow past the well of emotion in your throat.

“Trust me you’ve got this.” Doctor Charles soothed. “It’ll all work out in the end.”

The end…

You wondered what version he was talking about, because if this kept happening, if the drugs didn’t work…

The end might be that much closer that he thought.

Big Fan of Will! Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#will halstead imagine #will halstead x reader #will halstead x you #will halstead #onechicago #chicago med imagine #muffled screams

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x reader - maybe it’s meant to be

Maybe a Mr Evershed x reader where reader says something like 'Some princes don't become kings'. Mr Evershed then gives reader a pep talk with them making them say, 'The only thing that's ever stopping me is me.' - @mxacegrey 💜

Watching your phone ring for the third time that week, you sighed heavily and picked it up, sticking it on speaker as you set it back down on the table.

“Yes?” You asked.

“I’m sorry to bother you again, but it’s your brother Matthew. He’s been in another fight.”

Groaning, you picked your phone up and grabbed your jacket from the hook.

“I’m on my way, thank you sir.”

Hanging up the phone, you tossed your jacket on, stuffed your phone into your pockets and grabbed your keys.

Hopping into your car, you made your way over to the school and waisted no time in rushing into the reception.

“Matthew again?” Miss Carter asked.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry about this.”

“It’s okay, come on I’ll take you down, who called you?”

“Mr Evershed.”

“Right, we’ll head to his classroom.”

Students watched as you were escorted through the hallways, though you supposed they would talk, you were still wearing your work uniform.

They were probably spreading rumours or making guesses as to why a doctor was walking through the hallways.

Miss Carter lead you to a classroom and the pair of you walked in.

Matthew was stood behind a desk while the teacher was trying to clean the wounds on the boys hands.

“(Y/N)!”

Matthew ran over to you and he gripped you tightly in his arms.

Sighing, you wrapped one arm around him and held your hand out to his teacher.

“I’ll do it, he doesn’t like anyone treating his injuries but me.”

“Oh… right…” Mr Evershed mumbled.

He handed you the first aid box, and you sat your little brother down.

Grabbing a chair, you sat in front of him and started to slowly take care of the cuts and scrapes on the back of his knuckles.

“What happened?”

“Well-“ “No. not you. Your teacher.” You cut in.

Matthew sighed and hung his head, avoiding your intense gaze as you looked at him.

Flicking your eyes to the teacher you watched as he sat on the table next to your brother before he finally spoke.

“Honestly I have no idea. I heard some arguing and the next thing I knew Matthew was sat on top of another student punching him.”

“It’s the third time this week alone.” Miss Carter sighed.

“I know.” You nodded.

“At this point we’re going to have to suspend you for a week Matthew, and when you come back you will be placed in isolation for the next two weeks. And with (Y/N)s permission we’ll have a behaviour councillor come see you twice a week as well.”

You looked at your little brother, you could tell there was something on your mind so you shook your head to her.

“No, that won’t be needed. Suspension and isolation is enough.”

“Are you sure? He could really benefit from behaviour counselling.” Mr Evershed replied.

“I’m sure, but how will he get his school work? We live on the edge of the town, no one goes that far.”

“One of us two will bring it by.” Miss Carter smiled.

You smiled and nodded gesturing for your brother to go to gather his stuff and you binned all the stuff you had used to clean his knuckles.

“Thank you, and again I’m sorry.”

“There will be a meeting tomorrow with the parents of the other boy.”

You sighed and nodded, and left the school.

Matthew ran up to his room while you started to make dinner, and when it was finished he came back down and sat at the table with you.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m really sorry…” he mumbled.

You hummed and sat his plate in front of him.

“What’s going on Matty?”

He explained everything.

How the other boy was making fun of him for having no parents, calling him all sorts of names.

“So, what made you snap?”

“He keeps calling you a deadbeat…” he grumbled.

You laughed a little, shaking your head.

“Thanks Matty, but as long as you don’t think that, I don’t care what anyone else says.” You smiled.

He smiled sheepishly.

“I know… I just don’t like it.”

“Just ignore it, okay? For now, no Xbox or laptop, you can keep your phone and use my computer for school work. And you’re not allowed out until your suspension is lifted, fair?”

“Fair.” He nodded.

After dinner, you left your brother to wash up while you went to carry on working on the work you had to bring home with you.

The following day you left a list of chores with Matthew and left for work. After your meeting at the school, you rushed back to work.

You were exhausted and all you wanted to do was collapse in bed. Making your way inside, you dumped your stuff in the hallway and walked into the living room.

“Oh, Mr Evershed. What’re you doing here?”

He looked up from the table and gave you a smile.

“I’m sorry, Matthew just didn’t understand the work I brought him and he said you were at work.”

You nodded your head and grabbed a takeout menu, sitting next to your little brother.

“Staying for dinner?” You asked.

“Sure, I have time.” He smiled.

You ordered food and went to change, leaving Mr Evershed there along with your brother while they did homework.

When the food came you guys held light conversation and you got to know the teacher a little better.

When he went to leave you stopped him at the door.

“Thank you for what you did for Matty, I know he’s a handful.”

“He’s a bright kid, he just struggles to show it. If you don’t mind I’d like to come by again and tutor him, give him some extra help.”

You hummed and nodded your head.

And that’s how it went for months, even after Matthew could return to school.

After a hard day, you got him and dropped yourself on the couch, burying your head in your hands.

“(Y/N)?” Matty asked, “are you okay?”

You looked over at him at the table.

“Yeah kiddo, I’m fine.” You smiled.

He frowned and turned to his teacher for help.

“Why don’t you go upstairs…” mr Evershed spoke softly.

Matthew you left guys alone and Mr Evershed walked over to sit next to you.

“You look stressed.”

“I’m alright Mr Evershed, thank you though.”

“I told you to call me Martian, but you aren’t, what’s on your mind?”

“I just… I had a hard day at the hospital. Getting shouted at by multiple patients and their families because I wasn’t able to get to them fast enough.”

“That isn’t on you though.” He said.

You sighed, sitting back as you stared at your ceiling.

“I keep thinking about something my mother told me when I was a kid, when Matthew was a baby.”

“Oh?”

“Some princes don't become kings.”

You turned to the man sat next to you.

“It was her excuse for the way our father treated us.”

Mr Evershed gave a sad smiled, and reached his hand out, taking yours in his.

“Whatever happened in your guys’ past was never on you. People can be misleading, and I’m sure your mum had reasons for the way she stuck up for your dad.”

“Yeah…”

“You didn’t let your past define you, you’ve done something amazing with your life, something worth while. And you’re raising brother to do the exact same thing. Our trauma doesn’t define us.”

You sighed and stood up, starting to pace around the room.

“Yeah, that’s easy to think.”

“Not everything is always as it seems. You take things however you want, you chose a good route. You’re going to get really far in life.” He smiled.

“I wish.” You laughed.

Mr Evershed stood up as he walked over, stopping your pacing.

“You have to believe in yourself some more.”

“I see… the only thing that's ever stopping me is me.”

You turned to him and smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, are you feeling better?” He asked.

You nodded and he smiled and nodded back.

“Would it be inappropriate if I hug you as a thanks?” You asked.

“Not at all.”

He walked over and wrapped his arms around you, and you hugged him back, sighing softly.

After a minute you pulled away and he quickly pulled you closer again, placing his hands on the side of your face he leant down, only stopping himself just in front of your face.

“Martian…” you whispered.

“Can I…?” He asked.

You nodded and he quickly leant down, kissing you softly, pulling you flush against him.

He pulled away after a few seconds.

“I hope that makes you feel better too…” he whispered.

“Maybe another…?”

He chuckled and leant down again, connecting you two in once again another kiss.

You couldn’t help the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, how nervous he made you feel or the way your heart raced when he was around.

He always made a hard day better, and maybe it was love at first sight, maybe it was just simply mean to be.

But you were glad that Matthew decided to act up that week

#ackley bridge imagine #ackley bridge #Ackley bridge x reader #mr evershed #mr evershed x reader #Martian evershed #martian evershed x reader

[nancypullen]

Thursday Night

The mister has gone out to take some night photos of possibly creepy places, so I’m at home watching Dateline.  I made big salads for dinner and then we ate coconut ice cream bars. Those two sentences sum up our Thursday night.  This is retirement, folks.  I actually spent a good fifteen minutes watching the sprinkler today.  A couple of weeks ago we raked up the three inch layer of small landscape rocks that the previous owners used for their fire pit.  It was right off of the patio, they hadn’t used any sort of weed cloth or barrier, and it was an awful, messy, weedy spot.  Once we got the rocks up, Mickey spread some dirt and grass seed and now we’re babying that little patch to make sure the grass grows.  That’s why I spent fifteen minutes watching the sprinkler today - that actually sounds better than I was watching grass grow. I’ve been foofing up my little spot on the porch.  It’s quickly becoming my favorite hangout.  It’s shaded, hidden from the street, and has views of all the gardens.  I found a cheap metal table that was sort of an ugly putty color, and painted it white and red.

I slapped a placemat on it and then added a little pot of lobelia.  

Presto change-o!

You know how much I love red gingham. If I can squeeze it in anywhere, I will. So I did.

That wreath may need a birdie on it or something.  I need a second pillow too.  Maybe a pale green with roses? 

Eh, maybe not.  I’ll dig around and see what I’ve got and go from there. Probably should have used red flowers in that pot, but lobelia is what I had. This is all subject to change but it’s a nice space for now. I love sitting out here in the morning, listening to the birds and contemplating the day. What’s that poem about birds singing despite the world being a wreck?  I can’t think of it, but I appreciate their songs in a world gone mad. We thought about driving over to Rehobeth Beach this week, it’s only about 45 minutes away and there’s a mile-long boardwalk where we could have lunch and check things out.  The days got away from us and tomorrow is supposed to be rainy, maybe next week.  We did snag tickets to see/hear David Sedaris at the BrowseAbout Bookstore there at the end of May.  That’ll be fun.  He’s always entertaining.   Aside from watching grass grow and painting anything that doesn’t run away from me, It’s just been cooking and cleaning. We did run a couple of errands earlier this week and made a pit stop at  the Ridgely Pharmacy lunch counter for a sandwich.  They have the best chicken salad in three counties. I finally worked my way through the delicious crabs our neighbor brought over.  I used the last bit for breakfast.  A toasted sandwich thin, a mound of crab, a little gouda and a generous sprinkle of Old Bay made my mouth very happy.

I don’t normally eat breakfast, but I’ll make an exception for crab.

I’m itching to get into my craft room and do something creative.  I’m overdue.  I’m hoping that tomorrow’s rain will give me the time at my desk that I’m craving.  I haven’t touched clay or even paper for over a month.  I get cranky when I don’t have that time. Mickey moved my cabinet into place for me and I put my Cricut on top which frees up loads more work space for me.  I mostly use the Cricut to cut out my dead people, and I need to commune with them soon.

It’s a perfect fit for the space and the storage is wonderful.   It’s calling to me. Pray for rain so I can play inside.

This blog post is a discombobulated bunch of nonsense.  No one wants to read this boring stuff.  I started this little corner of the web back in 2007.   Can you believe it?  It used to be a hoot.  I had great material - kids, animals, my job in the school system. My stint with Clinique was blog-worthy too. The many, many years where I was on my own while the mister traveled every week - I got up to all sorts of hijinks that were worth writing about on Tumblr.  Now we’re just a couple of old fogies who think it’s a big deal to stop for a chicken salad sandwich. Help.  I’m five months from turning 60 and I want my life to be funny again.  I’m staying busy making this house our own, but if I buy much more spray paint I’m sure I’ll be on some sort of DEA watchlist.  If we’d moved somewhere that I could go to water aerobics or craft fairs, I’d have made friends by now and had some adventures.  We’re almost at the one year anniversary of our move here and I’m still counting my once-a-week grocery haul as an outing. Help.  I have no girlfriends to talk to (I just offended the cats by saying that), no one to meet for lunch.  Where are the fun ladies of Denton?  There’s no jazzercise or Zumba classes, where am I supposed to meet my people?  The nicest person (and the most fun person) I’ve met so far is the program director for the Caroline County Arts Council.  She’s an absolute delight.  But she’s also very young and is busy with a young person’s life. I’m looking for someone with some mileage who knows how to talk about perennials and peri-menopause. Who am I kidding? Full blown menopause, I just liked the alliteration with perennials. So there you have it, I’m home alone and watching Dateline, missing my sweet friends, and thinking that I’d better go take a bubble bath and lose myself in a good book.  Tomorrow I hope I wake up to rain and spend my day creating some silliness.  Maybe even something worth sharing here! Until then, stay safe, stay well, and take good care. XOXO,

Nancy

[on-wednesdays-we-eat-the-rich]

Just participated in the worst carol service of my life. Here are the Details (totally unasked-for but I gotta let off steam).

There were two adults teaching the choir and the orchestra the songs. Only one of those adults, our music teacher who I'll just call Mr H, was present for the rehearsals at school yesterday and at the church today. He was trying to manage the orchestra and the choir at the same time. While his effort is appreciated, Mr H was woefully underprepared to do all this work and should have asked at least one other teacher to come along and help.

We sang three songs that we'd rehearsed for a few weeks, and four songs that none of us had practised and that some of us (i.e. me) had never even heard in full. (The only reason I could sing O Little Town of Bethlehem was because my class sang it once in primary school and I vaguely remembered the melody.)

The congregation was supposed to sing along with the four songs we didn't know, which helped a bit, but when it came to everyone singing them, no-one thought to let everyone know which song we were singing, they just had the orchestra play the intro and expected us to sing it flawlessly. I couldn't tell which song was which from hearing the intro because they all sounded the fucking same.

Two teachers who showed up right at the last minute, Miss L and Mr B, told me that I wasn't dressed smart enough. For context: I'm a sixth former, so I don't wear the school uniform any more. For this particular event I'd decided to dress in both my smartest-looking and most festive outfit, which consisted of green trousers, a shirt with a leaf pattern, and a red velvet tailcoat (the same one I'm wearing in my profile pic). Apparently the coat wasn't what the teachers wanted. Basically they wanted me in the uniform, which is kind of impossible because I literally don't own a uniform any more and all of my regular clothes are very colourful. Also, what is more formal than a fucking tailcoat?? I didn't change anything about my outfit.

Mr B, who is a bit of a dick anyway, was maddeningly unhelpful for the short time he was watching us rehearse, and spent the whole time barking orders at four singers, who looked royally fed up with him.

Before the performance started, when everyone's parents were coming into the church, I was sitting next to two rowdy younger boys who were spreading themselves out along the pew and squeezing up next to me. My mum noticed, came over to us and told the boys to give me some space. Thanks very much Mum, but that was the most embarrassing thing she's ever done because neither the two boys nor the rest of the choir knew who she was and for all they knew she was just some random stranger coming to tell them off. I wanted to hide under my seat.

Remember those four songs that the choir hadn't learnt and were supposed to sing with the congregation? Everyone was given the lyrics for those songs, but the choir were given different lyrics to the congregation. So we ended up singing them wrong. What the fuck.

#i had a real good moan about this when we came home but my parents and my sibling started to get fed up with me so i had to keep a lid on it #which is why i'm now moaning about it here #i wasn't feeling much of the Christmas Spirit(TM) today #to be honest though my school has never been very good at christmas #their idea of christmas is getting a sixth former to wear an inflatable dinosaur costume #and letting year sevens watch shitty hallmark films in the common room #i'm not even religious and i know how to do christmas better than these fucks

[markbirdsill]

A Starter, Commodities heavy portfolio for 3.09% dividend yield income.

Just for fun, let's assume you had invested in some earlier dividend stock suggestions. You'd have a starter mining and energy portfolio that paid you every month. Let's take a deeper look at how such a portfolio might appear if you were to buy just one stock of each.

Note that I'm using current yields and prices as of the writing time for this. For reference, the date is April 16th.

Here's how our portfolio appears in a spreadsheet:

Right away we can see that this isn't a get rich quick scheme and that this isn't market trading or timing. It's patiently investing long haul for passive income. We get a safe 3.09% average dividend yield in an undervalued sector during uncertain times. You might even call this contrarian investing.

If you were to buy one of every stock at once the total cost to you would be $640.36. With dollar cost averaging and patience you could build this portfolio over time and the pay days would begin to add up. Suppose that's still too much to invest all at once. Well, let's break it down by quarter.

For January, April, July and October, the total cost to buy one of each stock at market price is $189.29.

February, May, August, November the total cost is $170.75.

March, June, September the total cost is $280.32 and December is just $26.20.

If expendable income is short and that's still too much, you could still do a few things because you want to buy your stocks as cheap as you can get them.

First, you could wait for the market drops. The saying "buy low, sell high" is true. However, it's easier said than done for many new investors as emotions fight against buying a stock going down in price. By researching the ex dividend date, the stocks tend to drop as the money for the payouts are set aside so planning to buy on that date might help because it's an expected dip.

The second thing you might consider, is making a plan to buy one or two targeted stocks at a time when they are affordable, spread out across your portfolio. Keep track of what you have and what you want. Then again, perhaps just buying using set price limits is easiest.

Also, we aren't chasing large dividend yields because when it comes to dividend yields, bigger isn't always better and it certainly isn't the only consideration.

The monthly payouts might look pretty meager and they are. At first. Let's assume you keep this up and buy one of each stock every month, and everything else remains about the same. At the end of that year you would have 12 of each stock and our portfolio might look like this...

Then, after 5 years and no portfolio rebalancing or selling...

As you can see, this passive income stream is starting to get better. Especially considering that gold, copper, uranium, oil and gas probably won't become utterly worthless in the foreseeable future.

I hope this concept is helpful. As a young man starting out, I was working multiple minimum wage jobs while going to school and trying to figure out how to get ahead. There were few resources to learn from about wealth management and wealth building at that time. It was pretty disheartening to spend that last $5 to have enough gas to get to work for the rest of the week. It also meant no eating for the last 2 or 3 days until payday and certainly no emergency fund. You do have an emergency fund don't you?

Admittedly, there were naïve mistakes with money until experience and self-discipline got the financial boat right side up. Still, you can't get back lost time.

I offer this as a concept to understand dividend investing in hard commodities. I make no outcome promises of any kind regarding investing or these stocks. Perform your own due diligence and speak to your licensed financial advisor before investing. Disclosure, I also own and plan to buy more of all the stocks listed as part of a larger and slightly more diversified portfolio.

#mining #investing #gold #precious metals #passiveincome #energy #invest

[takalzuoom]

tehe brain rotting azul angst where he cheats on you🙈

sorry for the quality- trying to get over writers block

cw: cheating, angst

but you weren’t supposed to find out 🙊it was just a really really poorly timed photo. one that was supposed to be taken as you saw him the background, arm snaked around some girls waist- some blonde in some skimpy bikini-

it had taken him a month to hold you. yet it only took him half a summer to hold her.

you were perplexed. how could floyd post that and not see what was in the background?… or even jade, who was posing with his bother on the beach when you knew they couldn’t stand being out of water. especially floyd.

you were perplexed. baffled. confused on what was going on. on what he was doing with the blonde. with the tweels

so you liked the post.

nothing more, nothing less.

and when azul texted you that evening, telling you how much he missed you and couldn’t wait to see you again…

but you couldn’t help your mind reeling. wondering if he was saying that as he was with the three of them, wondering if he was saying that just because you liked the post and managed to catch them in the act.

wondered if he questioned why you didn’t respond nor read it. didn’t call him to update him about the latest home town drama, about the summer work you were stressing over.

complete radio silence for the next two weeks. one sided texts and calls piling up on his end.

but that never stopped the blonde from appearing. closer and closer as he finally made her way into an official photo, arm wrapped around his as a different bikini was on her…

of course- you liked the photo.

which was the first thing that came from you in two weeks.

so when he came back a sophomore, guns blazing with jade and floyd by his side. he went to greet you, hug you, kiss you. only to find you yawning him off.

brushing off his affections.

blowing off his lunch meet ups.

which, azul being azul. pondered about. asking your friends what was wrong and if you were okay… though they only gave him glances and side eyes.

and of course he didn’t like the way you were hanging around those first years and monster.

how’s you blow him and the twins off in favor for them. not even stepping into the lounge for your nightly chat, or to help clean up after hours…

and of course you knew the tweels had something to do with with this. obviously when jade lightly tapped your shoulder, and told yo y to come with them to the lounge where azul- not your ‘boyfriend’- but azul would like to talk with you.

“…is there a reason why you’ve been avoiding us three?” jade asked, casually strolling through the hall as people peered around the door, not wanting to get in the way of the giants.

“not particularly” your nose grew a little lonfher as your eyes stayed trained to the end of the hallway. not bothering to look at him.

“ehhh, are you sure about that-“

“yes. i am.” you interrupted, walking a bit faster so you wouldn’t hear their mumbling. their slurred whispers and monkey grins.

but as you opened the door to the lounge, you didn’t expect azul in his school uniform, foot tapping and arms crossed. a matching scowl on his face as he excused the twins when you opened the door. walking towards you you remembered something he’d always say when you’d ‘bothered him’

time is money and money makes the world go ‘round,

he’d says. so when it was an empty dining hall right before lunch, yeah u thought he’d gone made. as there wasn’t a soul in sight to prep the lounge for the on coming lunch rush- especially since it’s the beginning of the year too.

it was you and him.

and the twins eavesdropping.

“y/n, why have you been ignoring me? you even stopped showing up at the lounge”

a coil in your stomach snapped, a rush of heat spreading through the front of your head as multiple words flooded your head.

multiple things you wanted to say as he kept running lip service.

various insults you wanted to call him, insecurities you wanted to exploit to make him hurt. hurt like you did when you saw that - that necklace on the girl-…

a sigh broke him out of his rambling. you rubbed your head as you checked the time. 11:56

you a step forward, thoughts fighting to take over as an idea was front and center of your mind.

there was one thing all those photos had in common.

it wasn’t that they were all at the beach.

mot wasn’t because they were all in bath suits- yes even azul.

not even the time of day.

“tell blondie that i love her necklace. and that i had the same one” you smiled, you didn’t need the cafe to be silent to hear his gears in full throttle.

the furrow of his brows, and the flush of his checks telling you everything you needed to know.

though before he could put his octo smarts to good use, you were already out the door. loudly thanking floyd for the photos.

bonus :

azul : …. what just happened

floyd : seems like ya have no more bitches

altnerate ending :

azul : *overblots*

idk i pulled this out of my 🙊

#tw : cheating #twst #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #twisted wonderland azul #twisted wonderland x reader #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #takalzuoom 🌊

[watchmegetobsessed]

Risk it - Harry Styles

a/n: this came so fast and typed most of it out at work lmao, but i kinda dig how it turned out!! hope you’ll like it too! as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

You shake yourself a little bit to get rid of the spicy coldness that’s been lingering around in the city in the past few days. It’s only the end of August, but feels more like late October, though they say the warmness will return for a few more weeks shortly. That would be much needed, you’d love to enjoy some more lunches out in a park or down near the river before you are forced to withdraw into the insides for the rest of the year.

Looking around in the packed pub you look for the familiar golden locks of Piper and you quickly spot her in one of the corner booths, laughing joyfully with pinked cheeks probably from the almost empty pint of beer in front of her. Marching through the place you slide into the booth joining the group of three.

“And there she is!” Piper cheers.

“We thought you’re gonna bail on us,” Abigail snickers and you just roll your eyes.

“I said I would come, just had some work to finish before,” you tell them, shaking your cardigan down your arms quickly, the air is thicker, mustier and much warmer in here, but it’s not surprising, the pub is packed, just as usual on a Friday evening.

“You work way too much,” Piper shakes her head in disapproval as she downs the rest of her drink.

“I’ll be working way less from September.”

“Yeah, but you’ll spend the rest of the week in school, so it’s gonna be the same!” Mona chimes in with furrowed eyebrows.

“They promised me a fat raise if I get this degree within the next three years, I could definitely use the extra cash so I can finally buy my own place soon,” you explain.

You know they understand the situation and they wish you the best. They want to see you succeed in life and in your career, they just love teasing you about how dedicated you are towards your work, having to say immediately yes when your boss told you you’d get a new position and a raise if you finish the masters you never got to two years ago. You already had a handful of credits done that you’ll be able to get accepted, meaning you only have about one year worth of credits to finish in two years while working. It might get a little overwhelming to have an almost fulltime job and go to school but you’re determined to do this.

“We know, we know,” Abigail chuckles. “Alright, no more work or school talk tonight. We are here to let loose, so let’s get another round!”

Soon enough you are nursing a beer of your own, enjoying your time with your friends. It’s been long all four of you were free on the same night. Piper got married last year, Abigail’s work forces her to travel around a lot and Mona has a bitch of a boss, making her work overtime a lot, so it’s been hard to fix up a date that fits everyone. It’s been like this since you all finished your bachelors three years ago. You like to think you’re still a fresh little young adult who just barely stepped out into the big world, but it’s not true, hasn’t been for a while. You’re 24, you have a career, you live on your own, you take care of yourself fully. You are an adult, whether you like it or not.

Drink after drink, the four of you are getting tipsy, having an amazing time talking about the stories you shared back in university. Piper was your roommate first year uni, Mona and Abigail were in the room next to yours and you quickly became close friends, moved in for the rest of your studies until you all went your own ways after graduation, but keeping in touch as much as possible.

“I’m gonna get another one, but that’s gonna be my last one, because I have some work to finish in the morning,” you announce climbing out of the booth.

“No work talk!” Mona and Abigail shout at the same time making you laugh as you just wave them off and head to the bar.

You’ve been waiting for the line to get shorter, now only a few people are lingering around so you patiently wait for your turn, clutching onto your card in your hand. You don’t pay much attention to the tall guy next to you, only when someone bumps into you from behind and makes you fall against his side.

“Oh shoot, sorry! Someone pushed me,” you apologize immediately as the guy looks at you over his broad shoulder and your gaze meets a pair of green eyes framed with long lashes and a curious look in them.

“No worries, Love,” he smiles and you almost gasp at the British accent that laces through his voice. You take a quick moment to inspect the man, he is standing almost a full head above you, wearing a simple black shirt and brown slacks, a set of bulky rings sitting on his fingers that are spread out on the counter in front of him, his whole left arm covered in ink and you feel the urge to examine every figure on his golden skin. His chocolate curls are kind of a mess, but still look well placed, you bet he is the type who only runs his fingers through his hair and makes it look breathtaking. He is handsome and definitely your type, looks older than you, but you wouldn’t think he is over thirty.

“What’s your order?” he asks and your eyes snap up to him, realizing he is still looking at you.

“Huh?”

“What’s your order? I’ll get it for you so you don’t have to wait longer.” “Oh, I’ll just have a stout,” you tell him, feeling a little flushed from his offer. His eyebrows rise in surprise. “What?”

“Didn’t take you as a stout person is all,” he smirks at you as the bartender appears in front of him with his drink, asking if he wants anything else. “And a stout, please.” The guy nods and disappears to get your drink.

“I uhh—I only have card though,” you speak up realizing you can’t pay it back to him.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on me.”

“Oh, no, that wouldn’t be fair,” you protest and he seems amused that you don’t just let him pay for your drink.

“How about this: you pay for the next round. Me and my mates are sitting over there, just come over when you finish this,” he offers, pointing at two guys sitting a few booths away from you and your friends.

“This was supposed to be my last round. I have to work in the morning,” you breathe out tilting your head.

“What? Work on Saturday? What kind of job is so cruel to make you work on a Saturday morning?” he asks with a boyish smile.

“One that pays my bills and most importantly my beer,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, then make it just a soda,” he cheekily says and you feel giddy that this man is so keen on having another drink with you.

“I guess that could work,” you smile just as the bartender appears with your drink and the handsome man pays for the drinks, just then you realize you don’t even know his name. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you tell him taking your beer. He tugs his wallet into his pocket before holding a hand out for you.

“Harry. Nice to meet you,” he smiles warmly and the moment you take his hand, you feel the tiny sparks. This man is surely something else. “I’ll be waiting for our next round,” he cheekily tells you raising his glass before the two of you part and go back to your own groups. As expected, your friends are already waiting for you with wide eyes and excitement, having witnessed your little chat with Harry at the bar.

“Who was that?! No, wait, it doesn’t matter. You need to go home with him!” Abigail smacks her hand to the table earning a chuckle from you.

“Don’t be dramatic, I just met him.”

“And you have to get to know him better. Deeper, you know what I mean?” Mona prompts.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you all. He is hot, but I’m not looking to day anyone right now.”

“You know, it’s starting to get boring to hear you say that you are just working on yourself these days. That’s not what you’re doing,” Piper gives you a look. “You are wasting your time on work and school and all these stuff that will be there when you’re older. Live a little, Y/N!” she begs.

“You guys make me appear like a no fun bitch, but that’s not who I am!” you defend yourself, though you know they just want the best for you.

“A fun bitch would ditch us right now and go over to their booth and then ride his dick all night.”

You gasp at the unfiltered answer you just heard from Mona, but deep down, you know she is right. You haven’t really let yourself be a little crazy in a while, your one night stands stopped the moment you graduated and stepped into the world of work. It just didn’t fit into your everydays, you had a lot to worry about, making a living and keeping your life on track, but you have it all now. What’s stopping you from hooking up with a cute guy?

“I’m not gonna just ditch you guys, came here to spend time with you!”

“Shut up, we are leaving then,” Abigail snaps, downing the rest of her drink in a blink of an eye and for a moment you’re speechless.

“What? No! We never get to spend quality time together, all four of us!”

“Honey,” Mona sighs. “We love you and we know you need this. So go, get the tatted hottie and we’ll meet up another time when you’ll get to tell us all about how good the D was.”

“Jesus, you guys are unbelievable,” you chuckle shaking your head, accepting the fact that they are really forcing you to do this.

They all quickly finish their drinks and get ready to leave, hugging you before they exit the place, leaving you alone in the booth. Staring down at the stout in front of you, feeling nervous to just walk up to the guys a few tables away, though Harry told you to go over, however he didn’t invite you to join their group, just promised another round.

You take a few long gulps, hoping the strong drink will bring out your courage and before you could talk yourself down you grab your bag and drink, heading over to Harry and his friends. He is sitting at the far end so he easily spots you walking over, perching up in his seat when he sees you approaching.

“Hey,” you greet them all with a shy smile, waving around. There’s a blond guy sitting across Harry and a brunette with equally as many tattoos on his arms as Harry.

“Hey, you haven’t finished your drink,” Harry observes with a small smirk.

“Um, no. But my friends left and I was wondering if I could… join you guys.”

“Oh, the honor is yours! Take a seat beautiful!” the blonde one immediately slides further into the booth so you can sit across Harry. “I’m Niall, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“So very nice to meet you,” he grins at you, words thick with Irish accent. “That’s Louis over there,” he gestures towards the third man who nods in your way with a welcoming smile.

“Hi. I’m hoping I’m not interrupting though.”

“Oh, never,” Niall shakes his head immediately. “We saw you chatting up Harry at the bar, have been teasing him about going up to you since then,” he cheekily comments and you see Harry giving him a look, but Niall couldn’t care less.

All three of them are hilarious and you love the dynamic in their friendship. Niall is clearly the loud one, Louis is the cheeky who is always up for some mischief and Harry is somewhat the serious bloke, but it’s clear he doesn’t say no to any crazy ideas his two friends make up. You love the teasing and joking, they make you feel welcomed and as if you’d known them for longer than just an hour. As promised, you pay for Harry’s next drink, but you stick to just a lemonade, not wanting to overstep your own boundaries.

All while you’re sitting with the guys, you keep catching Harry eyeing you, your gazes meet over your drinks and at one point you feel his leg finding yours under the table, your ankles pressing together as he nudges you with his feet. You feel like a giddy teenager flirting with her crush, Harry’s effect on you is probably very clear too, but you don’t care.

Louis is the first one to leave and Niall follows not long later, leaving you alone with Harry. The nerves are raging in you as you try to figure out which way to take it. Though he seems like a nice guy, you still don’t want to take it any further than a hookup. Dating is just not in the cards for you right now. But how do you imply a one night stand? Do you ask him to come to your place? Or do you go to his? You would rather go to his so you can sneak out first thing in the morning, spare you an awkward talk over breakfast before you leave.

“We should… get going too,” you suggest and Harry nods in agreement, finishing up the last gulps of his beer. You take a deep breath and decide to just be straight forward. “Maybe I could go to yours? Have another round there?” Your suggestion comes out fainter than you intended, but you still manage to sound confident. Harry seems a little surprised, but he doesn’t voice it.

“Another? Thought you were done for the night,” he tells with an amused smirk.

“I’m sure you have something alcohol free,” you shrug innocently.

“I surely do,” he nods. “Alright, let’s get going.

He calls an Uber and the two of you sit close in the car, thighs touching and at one point his large hand finds your thigh, squeezing it gently that sets a fire in your core almost immediately. It’s been long you’ve been touched by a man, you were starting to forget what it feels like, but you know Harry will remind you well about it.

He lives in a nice townhouse and you note how it’s not too far from the campus you’ll be going to a lot in a week. He keys the two of you in, switching the lights on in his cozy home. It’s not messy, more like lived in. A lot of books everywhere, the furniture doesn’t match, but all together, the whole place is pulled together somehow. It’s very like him.

“So, what would you like to drink?” he asks walking into the open concept kitchen, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. “I have some tea, orange juice, water…”

As you watch his broad back, his muscles moving under the soft fabric of his shirt, you quickly forget about any drink. You want him and you want him now. Walking up to him you slide between him and the kitchen counter, catching him by surprise when you cup his face in your hands and pull him down into a hard kiss, but a moment later his arms wrap around you, lifting you up from the ground until you are sat on the counter. You open your knees so he stands between them, his crotch meeting yours as you kiss messily, all tongues, tugging and nipping, but oh my! You absolutely love it. The man has a mouth full of magic and you can only imagine what else he can do with those lips.

A whimpered moan leaves your mouth when you feel his growing bulge rub against your core as his lips travel down your jawline and throat, kissing and licking on your heated skin.

“Harry, bedroom,” you demand grabbing onto his shoulders and he doesn’t waste a moment, picking you up into his arms and heading somewhere down the hallway. You can’t quite comprehend what way it is, you’re way too lost in the feeling of his lips on your collarbone and neck, surely leaving marks on you.

He lays you down to a king sized bed and gets on top of you right away, following his wandering down your body. His ring clad fingers work fast on the hem of your shirt, pulling it off you in a moment before he kneels up and gets rid of his own shirt. He looks breathtaking, all the tattoos littering his chest and stomach, you just want to kiss all of them, feel his skin on your lips.

As he unbuckles his leather belt you push down your skinny jeans, throwing the item to the side without ever taking your hands off him. The man surely has all your attention.

When his slacks join the rest of your clothes on the floor he climbs on top of you again, kissing down the valley between your breasts that are still covered in the lacy bra. Your underwear doesn’t match, but something is telling you Harry is more eager to see you without them than to examine them. When he hooks his fingers into your panties and starts pulling them down, you reach to your back, unclasping the bra and in a blink of an eye, you’re lying completely naked in front of him.

“Fuck, you look so hot, Y/N,” he breathes out before those magical lips start working on your nipples, making you moan and whimper under him.

Kissing down your stomach he spreads your thighs wide, gazing down at your naked sex and for a moment you feel a little self-conscious, but the lust in Harry’s eyes quickly makes it disappear.

“You’re gonna let me have a taste, baby?” he murmurs, sending shivers down your spine as you nod eagerly.

He is not a tease. Harry dives right in, his lips meeting your clit, working his magic and you cry out his name, fingers tangling into his locks to keep him in place, not that he is about to stop anytime soon. He clearly enjoys pleasuring you.

“Oh fuck!” you gasp when his tongue runs down your slit and he slowly pushes into you, making your back arch. You need him inside you, you need him to fill you up right now or else you’ll burst. “Harry,” you breathe out, tugging on his shoulders, urging him to come back up.

He climbs up your body, a satisfied smirk on his glistening lips and when he kisses you hungrily, you can taste yourself on him.

“Condom,” you urge him, hands pushing down on his briefs, lips still locked as he reaches to the bedside table. You hear the familiar sound of the package ripping before he leans back, your eyes falling on his naked erection for the first time and your lips part seeing his cock, knowing already he’ll feel you up so well. He rolls the condom on easily before returning to you, but you don’t stay in that position too long. You want to ride this man, see him come undone under you. Being on top is already one of your favorite positions, but with Harry, you just know it’s going to be amazing.

You push on his shoulder and he understands your intention without a spoken word, so he rolls to his back and lets you straddle him, glancing down at his cock that’s now grazing his lower stomach, so hard and throbbing just for you. His fingers dig into your hips when you wrap a hand around his length, positioning him to your center.

“Oh fuck!” he moans when you ease down, his cock filling you up inch to inch, feeling so amazing like nothing before.

“Shit,” you breathe out gasping when you sit on him fully, taking his whole length inside you, stretching your insides so nicely, your wet walls hugging him perfectly.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs lowly as you start buckling your hips, moving back and forth, up and down, the friction you’re creating swallowing you up entirely.

Harry can’t take his eyes off you, a hand wandering up to cup your breast and you cover his hand with yours, encouraging him to squeeze, making you moan passionately. He starts buckling his hips in sync with your movements, meeting you with every little thrust, hitting just the right spots, building up your orgasm so easily like no man has ever done before.

“Harry, oh God!” you moan, falling forward, leaning onto your arms next to his head, your lips meet in a hungry and demanding kiss as he wraps his arms around your body, thrusting up into you hard and so good, you whimper against his lips.

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? I wanna see you feel good,” he pants, never slowing down. A few moments later he rolls the two of you around, your back hitting the sheets again as he moves one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, hitting a spot that almost makes you see stars.

“Oh yes! There! Don’t fucking stop!” you cry out so loud, you can only hope the walls are thick enough to keep your voice locked in the room.

“Not planning to,” he chuckles shortly before burying his face in the crook of your neck. You hold onto him for dear life, fingers digging into his sweaty skin, feeling as if you are melting into him.

Harry rocks into you relentlessly, your toes curling as you feel your orgasm finally arriving, making you gasp for air.

“Harry! I’m gonna cum!” you moan and he lifts his head, never stopping, not even for a second. His green eyes lock on your gaze, curls flopping into his forehead as he watches you in awe.

“Let it go for me, baby. Cum all over me, I wanna see how good I’m making you feel.”

“So fucking good!”

He picks up his pace just enough to make you lose your mind. It hits you like a pile of bricks, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves as you moan his name again and again. Your walls clench around him and it’s enough to throw him over the edge as well. His thrusts become uncoordinated and harder as his mouth hangs open.

“Fuck, Y/N! You feel so fucking amazing!” he whimpers through his pleasure and you watch him fall apart, panting and gasping for air, trying to remember every little detail about him. This is an experience you surely won’t forget and will probably fantasize about a lot when you’re alone at home, playing with yourself, seeking release.

A few more sloppy thrusts later he stops, kissing your lips passionately before he pulls out and falls to the mattress next to you. You both need a few minutes to recover from it, just panting and laying numbly next to each other, Harry’s arm thrown over your stomach. You turn to the side and immediately meet his glistening eyes, filled with satisfaction and bliss. When he finally recollects himself he pecks your lips softly before leaving the bed. You watch him remove the used condom, tie it and toss it into the small trash can near his dressed before he moves to the bathroom. When he reappears, he is wearing a fresh pair of boxers and he has a wet washcloth in his hand. Sitting beside you he gently cleans you up as you murmur your thank you.

“Want something to sleep in?” he asks then and you nod. He grabs you a t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts that you put on gladly. They smell exactly like him, soap, something citrus-like and a hint of anise.

He returns to bed and pulls you into his embrace, you gladly make yourself comfortable curled up to his side. Lying there, feeling his fingers gently running up and down your arm almost makes you want more from him. You could get used to share a bed with him and it’s not just because of the mind-blowing sex, but he is a lovable person. You feel bad you’re planning to leave without a trace in the morning, but then you tell yourself it’s what has to happen.

Harry doses off soon and you follow him right after, the warmth of his body puts you to sleep easily. When you wake up it’s still clearly early. Harry is sleeping soundly next to you, face squished into the pillow and you almost stay, wanting to see what he’s like in the morning, but you don’t let yourself change your mind.

You get dressed into your own clothes and leave the ones he lent you on top of his dresser. You tiptoe out of his room and grab your bag before looking for a piece of paper and a pen. You quickly scribble down a short note for him.

“Had fun last night. Hope you won’t be mad, but I only saw it as a one night stand. You’re an amazing man, Harry. I’m glad we met. Xx  –Y/N”

It’s more than nothing, than leaving without a word and you don’t let the guilt take over you. Taking one last look around, glancing in the way of the bedroom where he is still asleep, you pack it all up and put it to the back of your mind before walking out.

The last week before your classes start passes by faster than you imagined. It’s your last week fully in the office so you try to work a little ahead, staying in afterhours so you won’t have that much to take care of while you get used to being a uni student again. You usually get home after nine and basically fall into bed right away, and you even work during the weekend before the Monday when school starts. You go to bed way too late so it’s not a surprise you wake up late. You get ready in a rush, throwing out your plan to get a coffee on your way out the window since you are way behind time. Running across campus you’re lucky you already know your way around so you don’t have to wander around, looking for the room you have to be at, but even when you finally reach the right hallway you’re ten minutes late to the class.

Introduction to International Relations, held by Prof. Styles, 8.30-10.00, it reads on the little timetable attached to the way next to the closed doors and you pray the man didn’t start in time, so you’d be late with just a few minutes. Taking a deep breath you push the door open trying to make no sound and unfortunately, you are met with an auditorium full of people, everyone looking at you as if it was against the law to be a little late to class.

What the Hell is wrong with students these days? Being late was usual when I was a freshman, you think to yourself as you step inside, closing the door behind you, getting ready to apologize to the professor.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Styles, I—Shit,” you end your sentence with a whisper as your eyes fall on the man standing on the podium. He hasn’t turned to you, his eyes are fixed on a paper in his hand, probably the syllabus because he must have been in the middle of introducing the class, but the sudden whispering that starts upon your apology that turned into shit, he finally looks up and his eyes fall on your frozen figure.

Professor Styles is none other than Harry. As in The Harry you met at the pub a week ago, had the best sex with and left without leaving your number to him in the morning. Now he is staring back at you with the same amount of panic and surprise as you.

“What—I uhh…” He clears his throat, looking around and seeing about a hundred pairs of curious eyes who are witnessing the awkward run-in. “Take a seat,” he then firmly says, clenching his jaw as you nod.

With your heart beating in your throat you keep your eyes down on your feet as you rush over to a free seat somewhere at the front, since the back is already kinda full.

“So, uhh—As I was saying this is an introduction so we’ll talk about a lot of different topics, I want you to have a view of the most important aspects before moving onto separate fields.”

You don’t dare to look up as Harry talks about the class, the syllabus, how the semester will be built up and what you’ll have to do to pass. Scribbling your wobbly notes, you nervously bounce your legs under the desk, flashbacks from your time with him popping into your mind through the whole lecture.

This feels like something straight out of a ridiculous movie. How is it possible, that the one time you finally decide to have a one night stand with a hot guy, he turns out to be your professor?! That’s just your luck, it seems.

Harry doesn’t drag the lecture long, dismisses everyone after an hour once every question has been answered. You plan to escape right away, but it turns out Harry doesn’t want to just sweep it under the rug.

“Can I have a word with you?” he asks stepping to your desk as you are furiously shoving your stuff into your bag.

“Uh, sure,” you nod, not like you have a choice. You’d love to run, but he is your professor, it would sit well if you ditched him on the first day of school.

You slow your packing down so you finish right when the last student has left the room. Grabbing your bag you turn to face Harry who now seems furious, vivid if you might say. He strides over to the door and shuts it before facing you.

“You said you’re working!” is the first thing he throws at you, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Because I am! I’m finishing my masters so I can get a promotion!” you defend yourself.

“Wait, so how old are you?” he asks with a puzzled look.

“I’m twenty-four, what did you think?” You feel offended, did he think you were younger or older? Neither would sit well anyway, so there’s no good answer.

“I-I don’t know, but when you walked right into my class I surely thought you were twenty or something,” he explains exhaling sharply. “Okay, so twenty-four. But still, you could have told me you are a student here.”

“Excuse you? Why would have I told you, we met that night, of course I didn’t share my whole fucking life with you! Besides, you didn’t say a thing about being a college professor either,” you spat at him and it seems like he realizes your argument is quite valid. He can’t blame it all on you.

“Okay, you’re right. Sorry.”

There’s a short silence as the anger dies down and the awkwardness and shock returns. It’s such an impossible situation, you never thought you’d have to deal with anything similar. Having an affair with your professor? This shit is straight out of some teenage drama.

“I can… drop the lecture, if you want. Only took it as extra credit, because I was interested in it,” you offer the first rational option that comes to your mind.

“No, I mean… you don’t have to. Messing around with credits at this time sucks, you wouldn’t be able to find something else.”

“Okay, so then what?”

“I guess we’ll just pretend like nothing happened,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Like you did in the morning when you left without leaving your number.”

His comment spikes, you can tell he was hurt that you didn’t stay, though now is probably not the best time to bring it up.

“Well, sorry. I didn’t think of it as more,” you dryly say.

“That’s not how you came off, however. Having laughs with me and my friends like we’ve known each other for years and then…” he doesn’t finish, but you have an idea what he wanted to say. And then you had insanely good sex and fell asleep cuddling. It feels illegal to even think about it in this building.

“Look, I’m really sorry I left like that, but look at it this way: if we would have taken it further, it would be way worse now, wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe we would have talked more later and found out about this and wouldn’t have had to face each other under these circumstances.”

He has a point, but it doesn’t matter now. The past is the past and you have to figure out how to treat this odd situation.

“You think you can forget about it and we can be professional? I really don’t want this to affect my studies,” you truthfully ask. Harry stares at you for a long moment before nodding.

“I think we can make it work. We are both adults, let’s put it behind us.” You nod, satisfied with his answer. “So what’s your major and why do you need it for your job?”

“It’s communication. I’m set to take over our international partnership groups, but the board is set on having someone with a higher degree. I told my boss I started it back then but never finished when I started working. He said I would instantly get the position if I finished my masters, so… here I am.”

Harry nods, chewing on your answer. Suddenly, as you look at him, guilt washes over you. He is such a genuine and lovely man, yet you left so abruptly, never even giving him a chance. Not that it would have made this situation any different, but it seems like you hurt him.

“Harry, I really am sorry for leaving. I had a great time with you, but I don’t think dating just fits into my life right now. I felt like you’d want more and I didn’t want to deal with all the explaining and apologizing.”

“I get it. It just would have been nicer to talk it out. Not that it makes a change now,” he adds with a soft smile.

“So we’re good?” you ask hopefully.

“Yeah. Professional and all,” he smiles nodding and you feel like a rock has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Great. Well, I guess I’ll see you later, professor,” you add a little cheekily and you see the fire in his eyes instantly, but he holds his tongue, not commenting on how sexual it sounds from your mouth. You couldn’t miss out on the teasing.

“Dismissed,” he nods turning away from you as he walks back to his desk. You walk out with the longest sigh that’s ever left your lips.

“Professor Styles! You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Piper screams at you over Facetime later that week when the two of you have your usual little chat. You’re making dinner while she lies on her couch, staring at you from the screen with the widest eyes. You just told him the whole thing with Harry and she almost choked. “The man is a professor? This shit is wild!” “Not just a professor, he is my fucking teacher, Piper!” you chuckle awkwardly. You still haven’t fully wrapped your mind around the fact that you hooked up with your professor.

“How old is the dude to be teaching at a university?”

“Well, he said he is twenty-nine. I might have done a little search and since he is british, schooling was a little different for him. Apparently, he finished high school early as a fucking genius that he is, then uni, masters and everything. He started teaching at my school two years ago. The guy is like a big name in the field of social sciences.”

“Damn, he is a gem. So what’s gonna happen now? Y’all gonna fuck on his desk after class?”

“Piper!” you snap at her.

“What? I hope you’re not thinking about passing on him.”

“I passed on him way before I knew he was my professor. We can’t have anything going on because one, he is my professor and two, because I’m not looking for anyone to date.”

“You are so full of bullshit, Y/N,” she snorts. “So what if he is your professor? Just for this semester. Keep it a secret and then it’s done. You’re not some eighteen year-old freshman, he is just five years older than you.”

“You can’t be serious,” you shake your head. “I’m not going to have an affair with my teacher.”

“Not an affair, a relationship! You gotta hold onto good dick if you find one. This is what I did with Ronan,” she smirks satisfied.

“Yeah, it’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Piper, have you been listening to what I was saying?” you ask in disbelief. “Yeah, five years is not much, but I’m pretty sure there’s a rule against teachers dating students.”

“Rules are for losers. You literally found the perfect guy and you’ll just throw him away? Said it yourself after your hookup that you liked the guy. Why are you being so difficult?”

“Sorry for not wanting to get myself or Harry out of the university,” you scoff turning the stove off under the sauce before you burn it all.

“Harry? So you’re just calling him Harry?” Piper wiggles her eyebrows at you, leaning closer to the camera and you just groan at her. How was this the only thing that stuck to her?

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you mumble under your breath.

“Okay, yeah, I get you. I truly do. But I’m also your friend who wants to see you happy. So I’m just saying that if he makes a move… be open. He is your professor for only one semester, so once it’s over you are free to do whatever. Fuck, date, anything.”

Soon enough you fall into a pattern with your everydays. Mondays, Tuesdays and Friday mornings are for school. Wednesdays and Thursdays are spent on campus at your lectures and you usually go into the office on Friday afternoons to make sure everything works fine before you go off for the weekend. Having so many credits accepted from before, you have less classes meaning that you have less work to do with school as well. There are a few papers and assignments, but nothing too crazy. You genuinely enjoy your classes, each of them unique in a different way but if you’re being honest, Harry’s class is your favorite. He has done a great job at building up the lectures. Introduction classes tend to be shallow and boring, but not Harry’s. He has chosen interesting but still important topics and he makes sure the students are always involved and he isn’t just reading up his slides dully. There are a lot of discussions, everyone gets to tell their opinion and Harry genuinely seems interested in anything his students have to say.

You also came to realize his class is full of girls, only a handful of men dared to sign up. You didn’t pay attention the first time for obvious reasons, but as you looked around the next week you saw heart eyes and lustful gazes towards the man standing on the podium talking. You’re not sure if Harry doesn’t notice it or just chooses to ignore it, but he is doing a good job at staying professional. In the aspect of your situation as well.

For a bit you were afraid he would have hard feelings towards you or treat you differently, but it’s not the case. You are just another pair of curious eyes and ears at his lectures, only that sometimes you catch yourself daydreaming about that one night. When that happens you can always feel yourself blushing and an irrational fear that Harry can hear your thoughts invades your mind, though it’s stupid. But you always try to stay low just in case.

 It’s early October when an unexpected project lands in your hands at work, setting you back in your schedule. You work through the weekend just to get it right but that means that you couldn’t start working on your paper for Harry’s class that has to be turned in by the end of the week. So next Monday morning when class is over you walk up to him to ask for some more time.

“Hey, can I have a word with you?” you ask and as he glances up at you he seems surprised you initiated a private conversation.

“Sure, what’s the matter?”

“I just wanted to ask if I could have just a little more time to turn my paper in. I know it’s due Friday, but I’m a little behind and it would be amazing if I could work on it on the weekend. I’m sure I’d be done by next Monday.”

You’re afraid he might think you want to use your history and take advantage of it, but it seems like Harry looks more concerned than upset about your request.

“Yeah, sure. Everything alright though?”

Your eyes wander around the room, only a few more people are left inside and they are heading out as well. For some reason, you are a little paranoid that someone might figure out what happened between you and Harry though it’s nearly impossible.

“I’m good, I just got some extra work last week and it totally threw me off.”

“Oh, what kind of project?”

“I just have to put together a communication plan for three of our partners and it’s taking way more time than I expected,” you admit with a chuckle.

“I think I have an amazing book about international communication plans. I could lend it to you, if you’d like. It has amazing tips on sustainability.”

“That would be… amazing,” you say, surprised by his nice offer.

“Are you on campus tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have a lecture. I can come by your office.”

“Fantastic,” he smiles warmly. “And don’t worry about the paper. You’re not the first one to ask for more time. If you hand it in on Monday it’s gonna be perfectly fine,” he assures you.

“Thank you Harry. I-I mean Professor Styles,” you correct yourself, feeling awkward that you called him by his first name, but he just chuckles.

“You can call me Harry outside class.” “Okay,” you smile nodding. “Then, see you tomorrow,” you say as you leave the room.

You spend the rest of the day working unfortunately, still a lot to do with your project. It’s hard to harmonize three different companies from three nations, working in different time zones. The next day you decide to skip your lecture in the noon. The professor is not too strict on attendance so you’re just gonna find a nice coffee place, set up a temporary office and work some more so you can finish everything on time.

You find Harry’s office easily. The door is open and you spot him sitting behind his desk right away, searching for something in a stack of papers. His office resembles a lot to his home, it has a cozy vibe but looks still very much academic with all the books lining on the shelves on the two sides of his desk. You knock on the doorframe as you arrive and his green eyes shoot up to your figure.

“Hey! Come on in!” he smiles at you. “Just a moment please,” he asks, still vigorously flipping the pages until he finally stops. “Here it is, I’ve been looking for it for ages,” he mumbles to himself and you smile. He looks a lot like the version of him you met at the bar. A fun, nice guy, clearly a little lost in his own world, but it amuses you rather then annoys. You wonder what could be happening in that brilliant mind of his.

He pushes himself away from the table and walks over to his bag that lies on the small sofa in the corner. Digging into it he pulls out a thick book that he hands over to you.

“Wow, lengthy,” you chuckle as you flip through the pages quickly.

“Yeah, looks a little dry but I promise it’s good. I put a note to the chapters that are the most relevant to you,” he explains and just then you spot a yellow post-it on one of the pages, a few more following behind.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really nice of you.” You smile up at him warmly, holding the book to your chest. “I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time,” he nods. “And how is it going so far?”

“Uh, it’s… going,” you say with a tired chuckle. “It’s a little tricky, but I’m sure I’ll solve it. I’m gonna work some more on it now, so hopefully I’ll be done within the next few days.”

“You’re not going to class?”

“No, I allowed myself a skip this week so I’m gonna find a café or something.”

“You could… stay here, if you’d like. I could even help if you let me have a look at it. I mean I’m not an expert in communication but I’m good with multicultural stuff.” His offer catches you by surprise and for a moment you want to say no, but then you realize he might actually be helpful. Another set of eyes is always beneficial.

“You don’t have a class?”

“Not until four, no.”

“And you sure I can stay? I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not. Please, I would love to take a look at what you’ve put together.”

You hesitate for another moment, but then let your bag slip off your shoulder as you walk over to the armchair in front of his desk.

You pull your laptop out of your bag and set it on the table so both of you can see from the two sides of the desk. You open up what you have so far, explaining it in details and Harry listens intently, nodding and humming along so you know he is following. At the end you tell him your concerns, the ones you’ve been trying to rule out these past few days so you can finish it all up.

“This looks amazing, Y/N. I’m very impressed by the way you synchronized it all.” “Thank you, but it’s not perfect, so I have a lot to work on. Any thoughts though?”

Harry asks you a few questions before he gives his two cents, telling you what he would do and change. His point of view actually helps a lot, allows you to see the whole thing from a different angle and he gives you some awesome tips. Before you could realize, the two of you are deep in the project, all kinds of books splattered across his desks as you work together to finish the thing. Two hours pass by as it was just two minutes, but at the end, you have it all figured out.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe it’s done!” you breathe out, scrolling through the document you put together for your boss. Everything is put together, well-thought and in place, thanks to Harry’s help. “Harry, thank you. You literally saved my life,” you chuckle softly, leaning back in the armchair you haven’t left in hours.

“You had a strong base, I just helped you find a few solutions, but it was all you.”

“Don’t belittle it, you literally had so many ideas even in fields you are not familiar with. You really are a genius.”

“I’m just good at using my sources,” he smiles at you, glancing down at all the books he has pulled out during the process. “It was fun working on something so practical, I’m way too used to literal things.”

“Oh stop, you want me to feel bad because you are this ridiculously smart college professor who doesn’t get to work on practical projects?” you tease him earning a boyish smile.

“Maybe I do want that.”

“Well, you’re not getting it,” you laugh and he joins you. Once the mood settles you realize how good it felt to be around him. The dynamic the two of you had was so great, working with him felt like a fun activity. And now that you’re done, you really don’t want to leave this office though you know you have to.

“You know, I might come to you with work stuff all the time. You just spared so much time for me, I really thought I wouldn’t finish before Friday.”

“My door is always open,” he smirks shrugging. “I’m glad we got to work together. You really are great at what you are doing. Your boss is lucky to have you around. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing group leader once you get your degree.”

“Thank you.”

His compliment actually means a lot. Aside from this weird situation, Harry is a brilliant mind in his field. Hearing him tell you that he thinks you are doing an amazing work is such a boost to your ego.

“Well, I owe you one for this,” you tell him as you start packing up.

“Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind for sure,” he smirks, watching you put your things away.

“Mhm, see you around, Harry,” you smile, waving in his way before walking out.

“See you, Y/N.”

Thanks to Harry you get to turn in your project in time and write his paper until the original due date as well. You send it in email and for your biggest surprise he answers later that day.

“Glad you could finish in time, can’t wait to read your thoughts on the topic! –H”

It’s a simple message, but what catches your eyes is the signature at the end. It reads his full name, Prof. Harry Edward Styles, the school’s name, his official office hours and at the very end… his phone number.

Looking at it you think it seems a little out of place, as if it doesn’t belong there originally, he just added it to your email, but you can’t tell. Is this a hint? Does he want you to call or text him? What if he puts it into every email, not just yours? Would it be awkward to text? Why do you even want to text him in the first place? You agreed to stay away from him!

It keeps eating you the whole evening, staying on your mind, doesn’t matter what you do. After you’ve drunk a glass of wine with your dinner you finally make up your mind, convincing yourself it’s strictly friendly as you type in the words.

Y/N: Turned my project in, my boss already emailed me he likes it so far. Thanks for the help again. –Y/N

His reply comes fast and luckily, he doesn’t question why you decided to text him.

Harry: Glad I could help! Ran over your paper, looks great too. You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N.

There’s no stopping after that. The two of you keep talking through texts and though it’s all casual and friendly, you don’t feel bad about it, because in class, you still keep it professional and you have no advantage. He treats you just like any other student, keeping your friendship away from whatever happens in the classroom.

The line slowly starts to blur, however. You think way more about Harry than you should and you actually find yourself regretting that you’re not able to get as close to him as you want. He fascinates and attracts you in ways no one ever could before and something is telling you he shares these feelings, but you are both keeping it at bay, afraid what would happen if you let your desires take the lead. You just wish you could go out with him, have drinks with him and his friends like the night you met him, forget about how he would always stand on the podium on Monday morning no matter what happens and he’ll be grading your papers. Mixing feelings with this impossible situation might turn it into a disaster and you know you have to stay strong, but it’s getting harder.

Harry is the kind of teacher who likes to finish his class before everyone else, so when December rolls around everyone already has their grades from the papers that had to be turned in through the semester, so when December rolls around it’s all just free talks, he starts interesting discussions about topics students want to talk about. His lectures feel like free time but still, no one skips them because they are always so entertaining and interesting.

“Alright, we’ll meet for the last time next week. As per suggested, we’ll talk about the European Union so get your questions and thoughts ready,” he smiles around, ending the lecture. “Y/N? Can we talk for a second?”

“Sure,” you smile at him. Putting your things away you walk up to his desk much more carelessly than before.

“So I have a question and you can totally tell me if you don’t want to go, but there’s this great International Affairs Summit next weekend just a few towns over, not more than a two hours ride. I thought that you might be interested in going? They’ll have some awesome presentations and displays, thought it might interest you.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, he seems nervous, stumbling over his words a little as he avoids looking into your eyes. He looks so much younger, not at all like the respected professor that he is. He is just Harry now, the guy you bonded over that stout he paid for.

“Sounds nice,” you answer smiling at him, he seems surprised at your answer. “I would love to go.”

“Really?” You chuckle at his disbelief.

“Really.”

“Just to be clear it’s not a school thing, it’s gonna be the two of us,” he clears and your grin widens.

“It’s clear. Still want to go.”

“Amazing,” he breathes out, a smile finally tugging on his lips. “I can pick you up in the morning.”

“Sure. Can we discuss the details in text? I have a meeting soon.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. We’ll talk later,” he nods enthusiastically, seemingly very joyful that you agreed to go on this trip with him.

“See you later, Harry!” you wave at him walking out of the classroom.

“Later!”

Piper would be very satisfied to know that you are going away with Harry this weekend. Though you still try to tell yourself it’s nothing more than just a friendly thing, you’re not fooling yourself. You want it to be more and now that the semester is over, your doubts and fears are almost fully forgotten and left at the beginning of September. Soon Harry won’t be your professor and you now see that it wouldn’t be that bad if something more happened between the two of you. You grew close through the year even though you only kept in touch through phone, appearing publicly wasn’t really an option, but still, you got to know him better and you liked him. A lot. There was no use in denying that.

Harry picks you up early in the morning and so the little trip begins. You take control over the music and play some of your favorites to him while he drives, educating him on recent popular music. Then he shows you some of his favorites, playing a lot of Fleetwood Mac and you weren’t expecting anything else from him.

He looks great today in a creamy colored knitted sweater, black wool coat and grey checkered slacks. His hair is now longer than when you met him for the first time, but it just adds to his amazing look, he rocks it pretty well.

The two hours pass by fast and you arrive to the Summit. Checking out the program the two of you choose the presentations you’re most interested in, leaving some time in the middle of the day to have lunch somewhere near.

You choose a sandwich bar that has a nice winter garden at the back looking out to a little pond. You sit at a small table, the conversation hasn’t stopped since the morning, only paused when the presentations were happening, but you always picked up right where you were before. Harry tells you about his time at university back in the UK and you’re a little surprised to hear that he was kind of a wild kid for a while.

“You? Wild?” you laugh. “I can’t picture it.

“It was mostly the first year though. Felt like I can’t miss out on anything so I was at every party and gathering,” he chuckles softly.

“And why did you stop?” “I don’t know,” he shrugs, but you know he is not telling you the truth, so you gently kick his leg under the table. “Alright, but you can’t laugh!”

“I won’t, I promise!”

“It sounds very nerdy, but I fell in love with studying. I mean I was always a good student, that’s why I could finish high school earlier, but I did it to be done with it already. But then I grew an odd love to studying, to learning new things. I wanted to read every book there is, know everything in the world.”

“And do you know everything now?” you ask with a soft smile, completely in awe with how he talks about his passion for sciences. You don’t find it funny at all, more admirable.

“Not even a fraction of it,” he chuckles. “But I learn something new every day,” he shrugs.

“What did you learn today?”

“That Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus had… beef?” He is a little unsure about the last word that you taught him today in the car when you were listening to a song from Miley. It sounds so funny hearing from his mouth.

“Yeah, beef,” you nod chuckling. “Great knowledge you’ve learned today.”

“I learn a lot from you,” he smiles cheekily. “But really. I’m glad you could come today. Felt like I needed to take this step since you took the one before this.”

“Huh?” you ask, a little confused about what he is talking about. Then, as if he realizes he just said something he shouldn’t have, he chuckles nervously, keeping his eyes on his iced tea on the table.

“Well, I hope this won’t be too weird, but when you emailed me your paper back in October and I replied… I put my phone number into my signature and told myself that if you use it, I’ll take it as a hint that you… are open to more. And you did send me a text, took the risk so I thought I should be taking it next.”

You look at him in awe. So you were right, he did put his number in just for you and wanted you to use it. You’re amazed at how sneaky he was to find out how you’re feeling about him, but now you’re glad you took the risk and texted him.

“So you asked me to come today. I see where we are standing,” you nod smirking.

“You’re not mad? At the number thing?”

“Why would I?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, but we agreed to keep it professional and all along I yearned for something more and threw you this hint. When I sent the email I wanted to take it back immediately, thinking that you’d see through me right away,” he admits.

“Well, I didn’t,” you tell him making him laugh. “I debated for a long time whether I should text you or not and then just… said fuck it!”

“I’m glad you did,” he smirks and his gaze holds yours for a little, you can feel the moment you’re sharing. This conversation has definitely opened a door for the two of you.

The rest of the day passes by peacefully. You love having Harry with you and discuss the presentations with him later. He has a great mind, you love sharing your thoughts with him, get deep whenever something really catches your attention. It’s so easy to talk to him and you actually feel like he values your thoughts, unlike some men you had to deal with in the past.

During the ride back home you keep thinking about whether you should take it any further or not. You surely don’t want him to be just a one night stand anymore, it’s still very fresh but you actually feel like you’ve started falling for him and you wonder where he is standing in the situation right now. Today has changed a lot so when he parks in front of your building, you decide to just risk it again, like you did it so many times with him.

“Would you want to come up for a little? I could show you that article I talked about today,” you say, trying to sound calm though you see the surprise in his eyes, he wasn’t expecting this invitation.

“I… would love to. You sure it’s not too late?”

“Positive,” you smirk at him unbuckling yourself.

He follows you up to your apartment. It’s definitely not as big as his home, but you take pride in it. It’s the perfect size for you and you’ve worked a lot on making it your home. Harry is looking around, inspecting the place as you walk into the small kitchen and grab two bottles of beer, offering one for him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, following you to sit on the plush couch you adore so much. It feels like a cloud is swallowing you up. “This place suits you.”

“Thanks. You know, this is what I thought about yours too.”

“Yeah? I think mine is just a mess,” he chuckles, taking a sib from his beer.

“It’s a good mess. Liked it.”

There is some tension, but in a good way if you might say. As if you both were unsure about where it’s heading, walking on eggshells, not knowing where the boundaries are lying as of right now.

“You know, the semester is almost over,” you imply, giving him an innocent look.

“I’m very much aware of that, the pile of tests on my desk waiting to be graded reminds me every day of it,” he chuckles making you smile too.

“Mhm and it also means that very soon you won’t be my professor anymore.”

You scoot closer, your knees coming in contact with his thigh and he sucks on his breath, looking down at the spot where you two touch. You really hope he won’t turn you down, because you’ve already gotten your hopes up about making it work.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you nod confidently. He doesn’t move and you’re losing patience. So grabbing his beer from his hand you place his and yours as well to the small coffee table before shamelessly swinging a leg over him, sitting on his lap. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders and his hands immediately find their way to your waist, his thumb caressing the skin that shows from under your ridden up shirt. However you see hesitation in his eyes.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on in your head, talk to me,” you ask him softly, tilting your head to the side.

“I just… I know soon it’s gonna be alright for us to… you know. But I… I hope you know it’s not a game for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I’m all in, Y/N. I know it’s been a crazy few months, but I really like you. A lot. I love talking to you, I love it when you are talking so passionately about things that interest you. I love how open and hardworking you are. I think that you’re an amazing person and I don’t want this to just be some passing, quick thing. I’m serious about this. About you.”

You can’t hold your growing smile back as your hands move up to cup his cheeks. Leaning closer you peck his lips softly.

“Great. Because I’m serious too.”

Harry breathes out in relief and a second later he is kissing you hungrily, letting his desire take over after holding back for so long. You weren’t the only one having a hard time during lectures. He hated how he always found himself looking in your way, thinking about how beautiful you are, how amazing it felt to hold you in his arms and it ached his heart that he had to keep himself so far away from you. When you took the risk and texted him, he could cry in excitement and he knew right in that moment that he is fucked for you.

Though it started a little rocky, now that he has you in his arms again, he wouldn’t change a thing, because it brought him to this very moment and he is overwhelmed with joy. He is more than ready to show you how serious he is about you, not just with his words but his actions, so he is quick to leave the couch and navigate into your bedroom to relive that mind-blowing night the two of you shared back in late August.

“Congrats, Miss Y/L/N. We are looking forward to seeing you work your magic as the leader of the group.” The executive manager shakes your hand and you see your boss from the corner of your eye, looking at you proudly.

“Thank you. I won’t disappoint,” you smile back.

You say your goodbye to everyone else in the room before finally heading out with the widest smile on your face. You did it. You finally got the promotion.

You finished your masters just a month ago and this meeting was scheduled almost immediately. For a while you were afraid they wouldn’t wait until you finish your studies, but they proved that they wanted no one else but you, making you feel so valued.

Walking back to your office you do the rest of your work left for the day, finishing up every pending task so you can be free for the weekend. When five o’clock finally comes you pack up and head out. Pushing through the double doors you step out into the warm July afternoon, immediately spotting a mop of curls you know all too well. Harry is waiting for you leant against his car with a huge bouquet of flowers, smiling at you with pride as he watches you cross the parking lot.

“What’s this for?” you ask teasingly when he pushes himself away from the car and kisses you softly before saying anything.

“A little something to celebrate your promotion.”

“How do you know I got it?” you ask, trying your best to sound serious. He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion.

“I knew you’d get it, who else would get it? Did they not fucking give it to you?” he asks, working himself up at the thought that you weren’t the one to get promoted.

“Relax, I got it,” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him a little longer this time.

“I was ready to fight whoever I needed to,” he mumbles against your lips, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“What a gentleman,” you giggle pecking his lips again.

“That I am. And not just because I would throw a fist for my love, but because I knew you’d get it so I went ahead and booked us a mini vacation for this weekend. So let’s head home, you have thirty minutes to pack before we leave,” he smirks down at you, clearly satisfied with himself.

Harry is always full of surprises. In the one and half year you’ve been officially together, he never failed to surprise you with the tiniest things, make you feel loved and appreciated no matter how long you’ve been dating.

“Where are we going?” you ask in excitement, eyebrows shooting up on your forehead.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

Harry listened to every hint you’ve dropped how you’d love to spend some time away in some cabin in the woods, disconnecting from the world just for a little and he found the perfect place for that a few hours away. He knew you’d be the one to get promoted so he took the risk to book it weeks ahead, making sure you’ll have the perfect place for the celebration. You have a slight guess it’s gonna be like that because Harry is great at taking hints, but what you doesn’t know is that deep down his already packed suitcase, there’s a little velvety box with a ring inside it that he plans to put on your finger this weekend, hoping you’ll give him the answer he wants to hear.

And you will. Because you are head over heels in love with this man, have been for a while and you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

The two of you head home and your hand finds his over the shifting gear, lacing your fingers together with his. Glancing at you he kisses your knuckles, pressing a long kiss to your empty ring finger.

“I love you,” he tells you and the three little words never fail to make your heart flutter. While the lamp is still red you quickly lean over and steal a kiss from his soft, pink lips.

“I love you too, professor,” you tell him teasingly. He didn’t like it when you called him that back when he was still just your professor, but since the air has been clear, he grew a liking to it, especially because he can’t get enough of hearing you moan it in the bedroom.

You call him a lot of other pet names too. Baby, H, Har, Sweets, whatever comes to your mind while he likes calling you his baby, Angel, Princess or Love. And as the two of you head home he thinks about how he wants two new names to be added to the list. Husband and wife.

 -

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

 @harrysgloves​

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles au #professor!harry #professor!harry au #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

[miekasa]

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao). 

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait. 

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key. 

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster. 

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it. 

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back. 

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you. 

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards. 

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity. 

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in. 

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you. 

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out. 

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it. 

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay. 

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week. 

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone. 

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house. 

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho. 

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening. 

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day. 

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around. 

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son. 

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying. 

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his. 

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it. 

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever. 

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out. 

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car. 

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part. 

#anonymous #hes so fucking cute hes my fucking BOYFRIENDDDDDDDDD #eren x reader #aot x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #eren fluff #eren smut

[haadeswrites]

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it. 

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child. 

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well. 

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call. 

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse. 

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’ 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined. 

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her. 

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?” 

And your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.” 

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?” 

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression. 

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet… 

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following. 

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading. 

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home. 

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions. 

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain. 

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him. 

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi. 

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part. 

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours. 

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea. 

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well. 

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for. 

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to. 

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight. 

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him. 

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight. 

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion. 

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering. 

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms. 

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night. 

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?” 

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be. 

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach. 

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves. 

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach. 

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head. 

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river. 

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn. 

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired. 

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north. 

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night. 

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore… 

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it? 

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.” 

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island. 

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment. 

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage. 

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside. 

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side. 

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly. 

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head. 

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first. 

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable. 

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out. 

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes. 

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.  

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise. 

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually. 

Time slows. 

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at. 

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally– 

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound. 

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips. 

It wasn’t him. It was never him. 

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.” 

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care. 

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though. 

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch. 

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again. 

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to. 

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you. 

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter. 

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most. 

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood. 

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!” 

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks. 

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #cult au #tw: religious themes #tw: dubcon #tw: blood #tw: minor character death #tw: abuse #hades.dark #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader

[simply-wins-little-sis]

The Conference of Hidden Genius

Request:  I had an idea for a Winchester sister thing where the brothers go to a parent/teacher night expecting to hear you are average &keep your head down but your teacher goes on about your good grades and societies you're in (arts/sports/science/whatever) and how you won a funded place at a summer school at a (random) college and will they reconsider letting you go. They ask you about why you don't talk about school and you didn't think they'd care as its not hunting and that's all they care about xx

Tags: @winchesters-favorite-girl​ @percussiongirl2017  @the-third-winchester-warrior  @hellhoundlover @emmazach @sisterwinchesterwriter  @fandom-queen-of-wonderland @staticweekes @hi-my-name-is-riley @a-paranoid-bastard @because-you-never-know-when @enchantingempathhumanoidturtle @alexwinchester23 @winchesterhound

A/N: Not sure if this will be one imagine for awhile or if this means I’ll be back regularly. Love you all xx Also this is a tad different if you want it rewritten lemme know!

An average Tuesday night. That’s all it was to any normal family attending the local high school’s parent night. Each time slot filled with the expectation of a progress report and comments on student behavior. It was the average American system of pining parents and children against teachers, or sometimes the other way around. 

You had been nervous all week, walking on thin ice around your brothers, forgetting to remind them. That’s why when they both knocked on your door and told you they were going to go you shot up like a rocket. 

“No guys, it’s really okay!” you protested, without doing much to make it seem suspicious. 

“Nah babygirl, Dad would miss this stuff for us and we’d miss out on some decent extra credit, plus I heard they’re supposed to have a dessert spread” Dean smirked as he left the room. 

“It’ll be good to know where you stand amongst your classmates Y/N” Sam gave a small smile and followed him. You groaned, throwing a pillow over your head. Falling out of the pillowcase was the brochure to an expensive summer program, one you’d secretly prayed to Castiel on, even though he was nowhere to be found.

When the boys arrived at the school they were shocked to find they were the last guardians to be scheduled. It seemed as though they were thrown on last minute, almost as if your marks had been forgotten. 

Dean was disappointed to find that the dessert spread had been long demolished. 

Entering your homeroom a cheery red head with matching lipstick greeted them. 

“Oh I had no idea Y/N had two fathers! How lovely!”

The boys choked, holding back vile, “Actually we’re her older brothers,” Sam greeted, “But lovely to meet you.” 

“Lovely indeed,” Dean winked. 

With a grin she took the boys to her desk, sitting on the other side. 

“Well, to be honest I don’t really know why you two are here.” She began. 

Both boys cocked their heads to the side. 

“Y/N is a great student, so smart and kind. Quite the little leader. She has perfect scores in all of her classes and is honestly on track to becoming top student,”

The boys looked to each other. 

“Are you sure you’re talking about the right Y/N?” Dean asked. 

“Y/N Winchester, you know, quiet, keeps to herself,” Sam started. 

“Isn’t really good at turning things in on time, often sleeps in class?” Dean recalled his own experience being a hunter in training while doubling as an adolescent student. 

“I fear as though you aren’t hearing what I am saying. Your little sister is really great. One of the best actually. Always turns everything in on time, never sleeps in class, and is charming and kind to everyone she meets or works with. She’s quite the class discussion starter too. In fact, she’s been offered a full scholarship to the Eastern Scholars Summer Program. I know how you both feel she shouldn’t go, but I have to say, you have a bright young person on your hands and not letting her go is the biggest mistake I’ve ever seen guardians make.” 

The two looked at each other again. “The what now?”

“Y/N said you two won’t let her go. But I’m begging you, the girl we have here is different then the one you’re describing, and if you just give her the chance she’ll prove you wrong. I promise.”

When the boys got home you were in the library, reading. 

“Y/N” Dean called. 

“In here!” You yelled back. 

“Why wouldn’t you tell us about the Summer program?” Sam asked. He leaned against the doorframe as Dean leaned on a bookcase. 

You pushed your hair back from your face. “It’s really not that important. It’d just get in the way.”

“Y/N according to your grades you’re smarter then Sam. And Sam is Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “What he’s trying to say is that you’re not telling us about how good you’re actually doing in school. Not to mention you have the opportunity for something really-” he started. 

“No stop,” you interupt him, “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. You guys expect me to be one thing. To live this life or get out completely and to be honest I don’t know what I want. I won’t lose you for a picket fence future, but I also don’t know if I can keep looking death in the eyes, literally.

“The summer program would be the first time I’ve ever gone away. Alone. I don’t know if I’m smart enough let alone ready to face that without you guys. “

They both looked at you. “Well at least talk to us next time, don’t just keep us in the dark, okay?” Sam asked. 

You nodded. 

“I think you should go though,” Dean whispered. 

You looked at him, tears spilling over your bottom eyelids. 

“Okay.”

“But this report card is going on the fridge regardless of what you say,” Sam laughed. 

“The teacher’s phone number on that?” Dean asks. 

“DEAN!” both you and Sam chirp.

#winchester sister #Winchester Little Sister #jared padalecki sister #dean x sister!reader #little sister winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester x daughter #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister #sam Winchester x sis #sam winchester daughter #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x sis #castiel x sister!reader #castiel #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #SPN #SPNFamily #spn fanfic