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all-hail-draculaura · 1 year

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Wishes Come True?

Its been awhile since I last wrote fanfiction, please excuse the mistakes made. I love fanfictions where the fictional characters come to ‘life’ and deal with the real world or vice versa or straight the worlds just collide and become one. This is a Morpheus x reader fanfiction

Summary : When your besties finally influences you to do some New Year’s Eve superstitions and they actually work out for you. Makes the saying of ‘Be careful of what you wish for’ little too serious in the this case. Now you have to figure out how to get The Sandman back to their universe or deal with the consequences.

Word Count : 3,007

Warnings : bad language, use of drugs, alcohol consumption, low-key a crackfic

“So you’re telling me that I got to eat twelve grapes under a table while making one specific wish for each grape under sixty seconds while attempting to not choke and wear different colored underwear that each have their own meaning for something to happen in the new year. Yeah, that sounds about right”

“C’mon, I mean when you put it like that, it makes me sound like I’m a crazy person, but I don’t want to be the only person to do it, and it's not like we both have something going on in our personal lives anyway.” My friend, Delia, was trying to compel me into doing some New Year's Eve rituals, so we can have a ‘fun’ new year.

“Fine, I’ll do it for your sake, but I just want you to know one very important thing.” I looked her dead in the eye. “Yeah, whatever it is, just as long as we get to do it.” She accepted easily. “Get seedless grapes, I’m not going to die by grapes with seeds in them.”

The plan was for us to go to our other friend’s house for a New Year's Eve party, but of course, something always has to happen to prevent us to come together, even for holidays. The friend that was hosting the party had to cancel due to getting Covid and didn’t want to risk anyone else getting it. So the new move was just for Delia and I to get drunk and high at my house, eat some fast food, and watch some crappy movies.

As I waited patiently for my friend to arrive, preparations were in order. The only decorations I have of course are memes related to New Year’s Eve being printed and left over colored streamers from different holidays. Clearly ready to welcome the New Year. Checking if I had enough alcohol and zaza for us to hit to make this evening ever so special. Sadly, I was lacking in the alcohol department, so I sent off a quick text to my friend for her to stop by the store to do a last minute run. After that was said and done, I took a quick rinse and got ready, deciding on wearing some clothes instead of wearing pajamas on New Year's Eve. I put on a chunky knit sweater in my favorite color, and I was about to put on pants, but I remembered I promised to wear different colored underwear, so pants aren’t an option. Debating to myself which underwear colors should I wear, I decided upon the colors yellow for money, blue for my health, white for happiness, and most importantly red for romance. Obviously, I put red first because at this point I am just desperate for another person’s touch, then white, blue, and lastly yellow. Putting on a simple pleated skirt, the look is completed, and so I can be comfortable wearing this many pairs of underwear.

Hearing my phone go off, my friend texted me that she was there. I headed downstairs to go open the door and welcome her in. “Hello bestie, I hope you're as excited as I am for tonight!” she exclaimed. She held two bags in her hands, which I’m assuming contained snacks, grapes, and alcohol for our evening. “You know it, just set the bags in the kitchen. I’ll order us some DoorDash right now if you want.” I said. “I’m craving Wingstop, you down?” she asked. Agreeing with her, I went ahead and started to order what we wanted to eat.

After hitting some of the devil’s lettuce we were able to consume our food with such finesse, and with alcohol in our systems, we can easily say that we were far out of it and relaxed. “So, let me see what underwear you’re wearing?” I asked, staring at the TV that was playing Bluey. I turn to pay attention to her, only to see her make a face. “I know you didn’t just forget to wear the underwear now did you!” yelling at her. She made a dumbfounded face and sheepishly said she was in a rush for time. Shaking my head in disappointment, I flashed her the underwear I was wearing. “Oh my gods, you actually did it. Maybe you’ll have a better year than me,” she joked.

“I want you to know that I’m not going to let you forget this right.” I snorted at her words, giving her a playful shove. Turning back to watch the TV, watching Bluey wasn’t cutting it right now, it was time for something different. “You want to rewatch The Sandman until it hits New Year?” I asked her. “Hell yeah!” she cheered. Putting on the show to have a marathon into the new year.

“Ever notice how Morpheus kinda acts and looks like Edward from Twilight?” Delia jokes. “You know, saying that makes me realize I have a type in men now,” acknowledging her words,“Sad, tall, angsty, emo men are just superior.”

We made it to episode 3. Dream a Little Dream of Me by the time I took notice of what the time really was. “Shit, we have to go hide under the table now, it's 11:53” we scrambled to set everything together. We sat under the table, clutching our grapes in our bowls. Checking the time again, it's 11:59, I panic thinking about the wishes I want to come true in the next year. Then boom, it hit 12. I started stuffing grapes into my mouth with different wishes like wanting to pass my classes, become a skinny legend, and other dumb stuff. I got to my last three grapes, thinking about something really dumb to make. Wishing for The Sandman show to be real, I wish to be a part of a storyline with them, and I wish for Morpheus and I to fall in love. I checked the time again, 12:01. Smiling like an idiot, some part of me wanted to believe that my wishes would come true, but this is the real world, not some y/n fanfiction. “Happy New Year, bestie!” Delia cried out. She proceeded to tackle me in a loving embrace. “Happy New Year to you, too smelly.” I mustered out, not being able to breathe from getting the air knocked out of me. We got up from under the table, dusting and cleaning up our messes. We talked about our wishes and joked about how our new year was going to be especially magical for me this year.

It was getting late for the both of us, sadly, I made sure to order my friend an Uber to be safe. I bid her farewell and told her to text me when she got home to be safe. Now I’m left to my own devices. Starting to clean up the mess that we made, gave me time to notice how something now felt off. I brushed it off, thinking to myself it was just my high coming down along with sobering up. Cleaning gets done faster when you aren’t having a party. I texted my close friends and family Happy New Year while getting ready to shower. A shower will help with this off feeling, I hope. I peeled off my clothes, only to leave my underwear on to see myself in the shower. Examining the many layers of undies I had on, laughing to myself about superstitions. Longing hit me as I removed each layer to be left with red panties. I did wish for a romantic relationship, it gets so lonely you know. Getting fully naked now, and stepping into the warm water of the shower, muscles relaxing and being able to take deep breaths.

Allowing myself to daydream a bit while washing my hair, as I stood with the warm water hitting back, it felt as though the place where I was standing started to shift. I open my eyes to see I’m in an area of blackness, the only light coming from a spotlight over my head. “You wish for the King of Dreams and Nightmares to be real?” a female dissonance rang out. In front of me were three different women that were shifting in and out of each other, all at various stages in their life. A voice in my head said ‘The Hecate, the fates, the three in one, the maiden, the mother, the crone they have come to answer your requests.’

“Sisters, it seems she finally realized who we are, and don't want to keep her waiting now.” “Pity for the foolish girl to wish upon such things.” “Hush now sisters, after all this will be an interesting turn of events.” “Even Destiny couldn’t have seen this from happening, could he.”

“Please, can you tell me what is happening? Are you really going to make my wishes come true? This can't be real, you can't be real, this is my imagination.” I pleaded.

“Know this Y/n L/n, when you lay your head tonight in your dreams you may find yourself in a place you may only know from the screen and paper. Till we meet again,” with their final statement, they disappeared, and I'm back in my shower.

Cold water now pelts my back as I am left what to think about what just happened, whether the whole thing was imaginary. No matter how hard I tried to remember what just occurred, it was like my mind was trying to get rid of such an event. I rinsed whatever shampoo was left in my hair and turned off the water. Stepping out to dry myself off, leaving me time to think of what I just forgot, maybe I forgot to feed my cat or check my emails. I try to brush off the anxiety inducing feeling and just change into a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. Attempting to try to snuggle up in my blankets to find some comfort.

Today, in my dreams, I find myself lying on the sand of a beach. There is familiarity to this beach, to the grayness of the sands, the deep inky colored waters of the ocean. Sitting up to examine my areas, everything feels too real to the touch, the grains of sand between my toes, the warmth of the sun that was hidden by the murky clouds, the breeze that teased my skin causing goosebumps to appear. The feeling was very uncanny valley, but if this was a dream, it shouldn’t be too scary. Looking behind me to see a great wall with spectacular detailed gates. It dawned on me that these were The Gates of Horn and Ivory from The Sandman. ‘Great, I dreamed of being in the dreaming realm, ironic’ I thought to myself, picking myself up.

I wandered over to the gates, trying to remember what the gates meant and how to enter the true dreaming realm. “The dreams that pass through the gates of Ivory are lies, figments, deceptions. The other admits the truth. No one guards the horned gate anymore. I remember the way of old.” I recite from the comic book with ease, shocking myself with it. ‘Maybe I have a better memory when I am sleeping’ I mutter to myself. Regardless, I made my way towards the Gate of Horn. I didn’t need much force to open up the stone door, it's like it knows that I won’t do any harm to the world. I said thank you as I walked inside to the true center of the Dreaming, the gates closing behind me with a soft thud. To say I was in awe is an understatement, the clouds cleared up here, exposing the sun rays that encompassed the beauty that was of the land. It was like a wonderland with many mythical creatures that you could read about in books and see on screen, dreams and nightmares walking a muck in casualness.

My gaze landed upon the palace, it was ethereal, nothing compared to the show or the comics. I made it my mission right then and there to go forward and attempt to enter. The feeling of being watched suddenly came up again, the hairs on the back of my neck raised to the intensity. I looked up to the sky to see the infamous Matthew the raven staring at me as he flew past me, presumably to his master. Ignoring that, I say to myself, “The wilderness must be explored” quoting the child from the movie ‘UP!’ as I ventured on towards the castle.

The walk went gracefully as you could imagine it, seemed like the people of the realm were used to dreamers just walking about. Which is a huge relief on my behalf. The fan in me got excited as I passed each unique landmark that was featured in the show. The Houses of Mysteries and Secrets were a particular favorite of mine to pass by, only due to seeing them interact with each other and Goldie. It wasn’t long before I stood at the front of the castle of the King of Nightmares and Dreams. Anxiety came up in tidal waves telling me no, not to enter, but female voices in my head were saying to enter. I pushed through my fears and opened up the palace door and entered.

Wonderment filled my eyes, captivated by the beauty from within the architecture. Everything is immaculate to say the least, nothing could ever truly replicate the elegance of the pillars, the colors that showed down from the ever-changing glass panes, the lustrous floor tiles, the helix and flawless stairs that led up to a more beautiful throne that of which held its king. Making eye contact with him sent a shiver up my spine. His icy blue eyes pierced right through me, making every sensor in my body want to run, but couldn’t. Fight or flight wasn’t an option that was granted to me.

“See boss, I told you someone entered the realm through the gate.” Matthew defended himself. “Silence, now human how did you enter through the gate, more importantly my realm?” his voice boomed with authority.

“I entered through the Gate of Horn, the gate of which that only lets in those who of truth and how I entered in your realm is what I myself are still trying to figure out, Lord Morpheus” I confess. His brow furrowed at my statement. “You know who I am?” he interrogated. ‘Shit, I fucked myself over that one. Wait, this is my dream, why am I scared? Might as well see how far we can go with this without dying’ I thought to myself. “Lord Morpheus I know of all your titles, Dream of the Endless, the King of Nightmares and Dreams, Prince of Stories, Ruler of the Dreaming, and many more, sir. I know of your raven, Matthew, and your librarian Lucienne who helped keep order while you were away when you were captured. There are many things that I know of, but know this my Lord, I come to you with no harm, just curiosity.” I explained, hoping that I didn’t just doom myself.

His eyes were filled with anger, maybe bringing up his capture wasn’t the brightest idea in the world. “How could you know of such things, you are just a plain mortal.”

First, ouch. Second of all, this isn’t turning out well for me. I guess it's true, never meet your heroes. Before I even could defend myself more, he appeared right in front of me. It was a bad time to be in awe of his grace, but he looked so handsome in person. From how his hair fell from head down to face, framing his features perfectly, how his skin of was alabaster and radiant, his lips were the shade of a rhododendron in the late spring, his gaze, a fierce and cold rage held in his eyes, and his eyes were like a galaxy of stars, wanting to get lost in them forever without fear. It made me realize that we were both analyzing each other, but in my case it was deepening my love for the fictional character. When we made eye contact, it was like something clicked in him and me. I blushed and looked down towards the floor, seeing my reflection in the clean marble tiles.

“I swear to you, I truly do not mean any harm. If you wish to ban me from the Dreaming, I will not put up a fuss. I am willing to tell you anything and everything I know if you let me stay.” my voice stammered. The fear of rejection choking up in my throat like a dry pill to swallow. I looked back at him. “You may stay,” was all he said. I smiled in glee and relief. “I promise you, my lord, anything you wish to know, I will speak all that I know of, should you just ask.” There it was again, silence and staring at each other. This time his eyes were clear of rage, only filled with now somber. “My first question for you, mortal, what is your name?” he asked.

“My name is (Y/n) (L/n), my lord.” answering his question without hesitation. Before he could continue speaking, I felt myself start to wake up. Why must all the best dreams come to an end. I bid my goodbye to the king.

I woke up in my bed, thoughts racing. ‘Did that really happen? Did I really meet the Dream King himself? He was so scary, but really was handsome though. Ugh, I am never watching The Sandman that late ever again.’ I get up to start up my day. I pass by the window and see a bird perched on my windowsill, not just any bird, a raven. My eyes widen at the thought. I bust that window with lighting speed. “Are you Matthew?” I asked, thinking I'm still fighting off sleep. “Yes ma’am.”

Oh, shit.

Hope y’all liked the first chapter. Like I said, it has been a fat minute since I last wrote fanfiction so any corrections are greatly appreciated.

#lord morpheus #morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #The Sandman #dream of the endless #fanfiction #fanfic #the sandman x reader #the sandman x y/n #dream of the endless x reader #wishes come true?

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pkg4mumtown · 2 years

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Through Glass (Ch. 1)

Chapter 1: Sitting All Alone Inside Your Head

Rating: M

Summary: When Stephen lost you, he never thought he’d get another chance to have you. Until now, that is.

Alternatively: You’re convinced that your house is haunted in some way and recruit some help from your local wizard.

A/N: Hi all! This is a weird one. I kind of had a weird fever dream about it and started writing it out. It’s also loosely based off of Through Glass by Stone Sour. It’s going to be a few chapters long and I might do art for each chapter. We’ll see. Enjoy!

Warnings: Feelings of being watched, Multiversal Stalking, Possessive!Stephen, Eventual body horror, Gender Neutral Pronouns for Reader, No Y/N, First Person POV, What If AU where Reader dies instead of Christine, Strange-Supreme just needs a hug honestly, Stephen in Reader’s universe is a big dummy

Cause I'm looking at you through the glass

Don't know how much time has passed

All I know is that it feels like forever

When no one ever tells you that forever feels like home

Sitting all alone inside your head

-Through Glass by Stone Sour

The hustle and bustle of New York was almost immediately muffled as my attention was pulled to my phone. Nearly stumbling over the uneven cement, I dodged people as best as I could out of my peripheral vision while pulling my phone out and reading a short text.

“Can we hang out soon?? I miss you ☹️,” the text read from a good friend of mine, Oscar.

I smiled softly and nodded to myself, thinking quickly about when I’d be free this coming weekend, “Sure! Miss you, too! How about—"

The text remained unfinished and unsent as my phone tumbled from my fingers as I collided with a solid figure. Scalding liquid sloshed onto my hands, making me hiss quietly. I managed to catch my phone in wet hands before it could have an untimely meeting with the cement, wiping it and my hands onto dark parts of my clothing to avoid stains.

“Shit! I’m so sorry I—,” I paused, not really expecting to see a man in a…cape?

I also expected him to be more irritated—given our current location in New York—but he simply smiled tightly and righted the cups, “It’s okay, it’s mostly all here,” he gestured to his two to-go cups of, presumably, tea since my hands didn’t reek of coffee. “Are your hands okay?”

“I’m fine, really. Um, I can go grab you another?”

“I promise, it’s fine,” his warm, soothing chuckle drifted through the noisy crowd around us.

I inspected him closer, from his graying temples to his neatly trimmed goatee, to the cape around his shoulders, and the robes—did the cape just wave to me?

Then, it dawned on me.

The Wizard of Greenwich Village I’d heard about on social media and the news, with his orange sparkles, his part in the Blip, and constant battles with creatures in the streets of New York. Yes, the get-up finally made sense.

“Is there a—uh—cult meeting in town or something?” I asked, with a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

"Oh, yeah,” he droned sarcastically, “Specially laced tea and all,” he laughed again. “Doctor Stephen Strange,” he offered.

“The wizard guy, right?” The words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them. Of course, he’s not called a “wizard”, that’s probably extremely offensive. He probably thought I was a complete dumbass by now.

“Or, the Wizard guy,” he pursed his lips awkwardly.

An unfriendly shoulder slammed into me, reminding both of us that we were hogging a decent portion of the sidewalk.

“I’m gonna…” I pointed the direction I’d been walking, wanting desperately to leave before I could say anything else that could make me look like an idiot.

“Right,” he nodded and stepped forward with the crowd, both of us walking in different directions. “Nice to meet you…” I heard my name fall from his lips as his voice drifted away.

I shook my head, my brows knitting together as I stopped again, Funny, I didn’t tell him my name. By the time I turned to look at his retreating form, all trace of him was gone.

Returning home that evening, I set about making dinner and ignoring the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. The feeling of being watched was stronger today, but considering I lived alone, that feeling came and went often as I let my imagination take control. Shaking off the feeling as best as I could, I turned on some music so I wouldn’t feel so alone.

With a final stir in my pan and a flick of the knob for the burner, I reached up to my cabinets for a plate only to stop mid-air as I swore I saw something slither across my floor in the reflection of my microwave. For a second—I paused—blinking and trying to rationalize with myself that it was caused by something outside or that my hand blocked light—casting shadow over the surface. When that didn’t work, I turned around sharply, feeling around behind me for a knife. I held it down to my side as I crept around the corner, gulping as I mustered up the courage to turn the corner aggressively. However, when I did, the living room was empty. My eyes passed to the adjacent hallway, also empty. My rapidly beating heart pulled me out of my search, the thumping having grown so loud in my ears that I started to panic.

There’s nothing here, you’re just being paranoid.

But resigning the shadow as my imagination the first time, only made me expect to see something the rest of the night. Like turning and expecting to see another shadow disappear out of the corner of my eye, scaring myself more and probably making myself see things as a result.

I figured a cold shower was in order, as if it could reset my brain for fifteen minutes and shake these feelings away. I dressed for bed and tried to keep the lights on for as long as I could before shutting them off and passing out for the night.

The same feeling continued growing stronger every day after that, but only within the confines of my own house did I feel the true weight of the uncomfortable, piercing gaze. It got to the point that I spoke to the gaze like its own entity in my house, obviously not expecting or even wanting an answer, but acknowledging nonchalantly that something was there made it somehow less scary.

Reaching for my microwave to take out the warmed-up leftovers from a couple days ago, I once again saw the darkness slithering away, my brain trying so hard to rationalize it as a trick of the light on the reflective surface.

“What? Not in the mood for leftovers?” I murmured while slamming the microwave shut.

I hesitated as I saw the darkness peek back from the edge of the reflection as if it acknowledged me talking to it. I’m not fucking crazy. I looked closer as it paused and retreated quickly as if something pulled it away, focusing in on one crucial aspect: This tentacle-like shape didn’t go behind my wall at all. It rested on top of the reflection of my living room and kitchen, even my own face. If this was really in my house, I should be able to see it floating in the space in front of me. Therefore, it couldn’t be real, right?

Right?

I stared at my reflection, the burning plate in my hands long forgotten as I hoped to catch another glimpse of the shadowy appendage, but nothing came back. Maybe I needed to move up that eye doctor appointment.

So, like every other night, I stayed up with the lights on as long as I could—hoping my electricity bill and sleep wouldn’t suffer for it—before eventually passing out. Unlike every other night, though, I woke with a start and discovered it to only be three in the morning. I gulped, listening for what could have woken me up.

Neighbors?

Sirens?

Nothing.

The heavy gaze was back in full force, but as I squinted around my room, all the blinds were closed. It should have put me at ease, but not when I knew the issue was coming from inside and not outside. I glared harder into the shadows, hoping to finally see something but dreading to see a figure there all the same.

It wasn’t until I fixed my eyes on three glowing yellow orbs in my mirror, that I felt chills run along my skin in fear. I couldn’t place what they were at first, but my question was soon answered as they seemed to blink and focus in on me. I wished my blankets and mattress would smother and swallow me whole as the eyes just stared. I was awarded no such thing. All the bravery I mustered earlier to sass the shadow had left my quaking body in an instant and I had no smart-ass quips to hurl.

After a few tense minutes, the eyes blinked once more and seemed to follow the figure they belonged to as it turned around in the mirror until the eyes were no longer visible.

Strange-Supreme POV

Stephen. Couldn’t. Believe it.

He’d finally found you in a universe where you had no one else. Or, at least, it seemed that way. He watched you for a few days to make sure you really lived alone, his excitement bubbling to the point where he got sloppy and let you see parts of him. Once he saw that you warily began to welcome and acknowledge his timid presence, he showed you a little more but never all of him. He didn’t want to scare you, after all, considering his version of you hadn’t reacted so well to this monstrous form and he didn’t blame you. He was nervous, though, because sometimes this horrifying form was just easier to let out instead of keeping the monsters in him at bay. But, just like his version of you, he was reminded of just how brilliant you were as he watched you piece together the mystery he was laying out for you day by day, and it only made him fall harder for you.

As he watched you nervously shift in your bed under his watchful eye, he hoped you would come to accept him, love him even. So many times he’d looked across the multiverse only to find universes where you were already happy with him, happy with someone else, or dead because of him—just as he suffered now. And while he might look like a monster, he wouldn’t hurt you or destroy your happiness like that. No, he'd want you to come to him of your own will.

But if he had to suffer without his version of you and your version of him was too stupid to claim you…then this you—this you—was just for him.

Chapter 2

Bonus: A little close up of Strange-Supreme without all the overlays to simulate night:

#stephen strange x reader #gender neutral reader #doctor strange x reader #marvel fanfiction #my art #strange supreme x reader #ThroughGlassFic #series: through glass

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dyrewrites · 1 month

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Before Deluca -- love

Uniform shrubbery, manicured lawns lit in soft yellows—oil lamps, all—and crowds of giggling faces in clothing too gaudy brought me back to the manor and the masquerade.

“It’s not like before,” Lucient insisted, setting me down only to wrap an arm around me—keep me his, “Everyone is here of their own free will. They’re like us, treasure, or here to be...tasted by those who are.”

Though my hands moved to hold, gripping his waist and pulling him tight, I could feel the eyebrow, the stiff lips. But I didn’t give them words, I wouldn’t. Strange as it was, sense lived in it, buried but there. Plenty fell to our teeth easily enough—as I had his. Our bite was ecstasy and I could understand desiring it. As for the thought of vampires among the aristocracy, well, many did live longer than they ought. They were also known to be secluded, leaving most at night or in covered coaches in the daylight hours. It wouldn’t be a surprise to learn all of them were.

“Not all, treasure,” he corrected as I eyed the crowds, “but many, yet the party itself means less trouble for us,” Sliding my eyes back to the brights of his, lidded, near teasing that they were, I waited for clarification. He gave it too close to a coo, “have you seen any watchmen since we’ve been out?”

Police were a fairly new invention at the time, and many were soldiers or privateers working directly under the King. So they tended toward militaristic uniforms. Of which I had seen none our entire day out. Nor any at the docks when we arrived, or any of the gates we crossed.

“Did this noble and his friends eat them all?” I asked, and his chuckle should have come off as mockery, but it came too light as he shook his head. But he didn’t answer, so I took a guess, “They’ve been paid off…”

He nodded, “For the weekend, which is how long his parties last,” the tight knit in my brows prompted a kiss and chuckle, “We are not attending, my love, and I promise I didn’t know there was going to be one. How could I have? I didn’t pick our destination.”

Tilting my head for that, fighting the smile with how he giggled, I tested, “You didn’t?”

His smile wrinkled, voice taking that deep whine as he flicked his eyes up, “Sebastian chose the port,” setting a slender hand firmly on my chest, he added, “I planned our stay after I learned where we were.”

“When, my love...when did you have time for that, I wasn’t asleep that long,” I didn’t know how long—I never truly did, so blurry that first year—but it couldn’t have been enough time to arrange a full week of activities.

And yet, it was.

“You do sleep soundly,” he teased, grabbing my hand, cool fingers so sweet in mine—burning as they were, hunger gnawing too soon, “now come, let’s get this over with so we can enjoy the rest of your week.”

“Hm,” was all I gave the smirk he offered as we blended into the groups of arriving guests.

Like delicate patterns of embroidery those crowds, weaving through the paths of a verdant tapestry—a grand garden lit softly in the golden hues of lamplight. None gave us more than a passing glance, and I took perhaps too much pleasure in that—as well as their maskless faces. Such color among them as well, clothing and skin alike, none were near so pale and monochrome as those of our last party. I couldn’t guess origin, and wouldn’t try, but I did hear smatterings of languages uncommon in the city. No din those sounds either, they sang a discordant melody, not quite in harmony but sumptuous to the ear.

I caught Lucient smiling at me—at my enjoyment in the mundane—and nudged him for it. He nudged back and gestured with a nod to the entry.

Massive those doors, tall and imposing but not so much as the last manor he brought me to. What loomed ahead of us felt like a home, a magnificent one likely tended by countless servants, but a home. Just inside that entry, its doors spread wide, stood a short man whose layers of ruffles did little to hide the sickly skin of his neck and hands—their dreary blue hue reminding me of drowned men. He was dressed in a draped coat dyed a blue reserved for royalty, trimmed in yellows far too bold, swaying beneath the weight of a high-set and intricately plaited black wig.

Nudging me again, Lucient silenced the chuckle that began in my throat, but it took a firm, “Chut,” to stop the next as we neared enough to see the theatrical manner the noble’s face was painted in and the treasury crowding his neck.

“That can’t be him,” I whispered, pinching my lips after, certain the chuckle would become full and throaty laughter if I weren’t vigilant.

“It is,” he whispered back, “and despite how he appears, he is a veritable nightmare of a creature. So chut lest he notice us too soon.”

“Bienvenue, bienvenue, invités d’honneur, bienvenue chez moi!” Powerful his voice, and deeper than his stature suggested. His accent flowed smooth, pronunciation impeccable—natural, yet something told me it wasn’t—while his tone sung heady, echoed ever so. He repeated the greeting in three other languages—perfectly pronounced every one—before ending with English. Taking care to meet eyes with all that approached, his voice echoed still with what I’d come to recognize as command, “Welcome, welcome, honored guests, welcome to my home!”

And it did, though not us, and not all those around us either. But many, so very many, stood stiff and walked with rigid legs faster through the doors—to the disturbing sound of cackling from those who didn’t.

“That what you meant by nightmare?” I asked Lucient, standing near as still as the commanded had.

He nodded, then sighed, “We are, thankfully, immune to that,but he’s still quite old, quite strong...and quite mad.”

Lucient held me where we stood until everyone else had funneled into the manor before walking me to the entry. The host stood waiting, smiling too wide, allowing his wicked tangle of needle-thin fangs to gleam in the lamplight.

“Look what the kitty coughed up,” that too-deep voice ground with his teasing tone, slate gray eyes firm on Lucient, “Bonsoir, Lucy.”

Holding me tighter, nails digging through my jacket sleeve, Lucient managed to keep the snarl in his eyes out of his voice, “Soir, Jackie.”

Marveling as I was at the vampire noble, how such a small thing could radiate command and confidence at the levels he did and still sing to me of how easily he would snap in my grip...I kept my mouth shut.

He didn’t, “I see you’ve brought a treat with you,” looking me over with a gaze too hot, too hungry, he bit his lip and continued, “but with a pulse that weak he can’t be treat,” turning to smile, sharp and cruel at Lucient, he trilled, “Did kitty make a pet?”

“Not a pet,” Lucient said through tight teeth, stiffened muscles relaxing with my fingers tightening in his.

Our host scoffed, “Not a—” but cut it with a laugh, short and hollow, “you amuse me, Lucy. Bringing such a big puppy to my home and insisting it’s people.” Turning to welcome us, he spoke louder, announcing, “Well, pet or not, you’re guests tonight.”

“We’re not staying, Jacques,” Lucient said it quietly, too quietly.

Those gray eyes were red when they spun and glared at us, smooth voice grinding even as Jacques chuckled through the words, “I must have misheard. Did you say you’re not staying?”

Lucient nodded, shivering in the reds glowing at us,“I came to announce our presence, to avoid you seeking us out, but we’ve no desire to socialize.”

“Share, you mean,” Jacques corrected, eyeing me as he stepped closer—keeping to the raised entry, certain to meet us eye to eye, “You’ve got yourself a shiny new toy and you don’t want anyone else to touch it...but there are rules,” he reached to grab Lucient’s collar but I was quicker—instinctively so—and clenched the ruffles of his wrist in my fingers before his touched.

“I wouldn’t,” I tried for calm, but the flicked eyes he gave burned with my failure.

He laughed, “Oh he is delicious. Loyal puppy, isn’t he?” addressing Lucient, his red eyes remained on me. “My dearest pet you discard, but you visit still, with one on your arm I am forbidden to taste?” Stiffening on my arm, Lucient said nothing and that laugh rang again, deeper, colder, “Of course I know, Lucient,” Jacques snarled through it, slipping from my grip as easy as if I were paper. In a flash of blue and gold he had Lucient off the ground by his jacket, eyes staining my love’s with their glare, “Did you think word wouldn’t reach me, that one of our own wouldn’t rush to spill all the filthy deeds you pinned on them in that whorehouse? She bought you, presented you to me as a gift, doted and faw—”

Like stone his cheeks, granting me no satisfying crunch of bone, only throbbing knuckles and a painted fist. He wouldn’t even do me the kindness of flinching, eyes firm on Lucient, no notice of me beyond the cut of his words.

Until I went for his throat.

When the heat of my skin touched his—ice as he was—Jacques gasped and released my love to grab for me. Slipping out of my hold as the ghost that light made him seem, to clasp my hands in the vices of his own.

“Warm,” he whispered, all that rage faltering in my heat, “he’s warm,” snapping a glare at Lucient he spat as he condemned him, “you’ve made a pet this rare and you deny me?”

“He is mine,” Lucient shot back, reclaiming my arm and yanking me free of those too-strong hands—hands that allowed it, thrown up when he tugged. But he had more to say to the searching eyes, gray again, that watched us, “and he is my partner, not my pet, not some toy to be passed around by you and your séides. A partner, an equal and mine alone.”

“Where is she,” Jacques asked, returning to his stoop, all command drained from his voice as he bent to twist those gray eyes closer, “All you bled, no matter their worth to that foul little Council, they are nothing to me. I care only for the one that owns you. Your Mistress, my pet,” gesturing at Lucient, he leaned back enough to worry of his wig as his voice grew bubbly but sharp, “She favored you above all others, spurning even me in her doting for you, yet they say you’ve ended her,” animated he became, waving his hands about, twitching with them, “That somehow you’ve done what we both know is impossible,” but he returned to glare, close enough to worry, “We are eternal. Sowhere is she...where did you hide my Iulia?”

Lucient shook with the question, having watched as I did how unsteadily the vampire noble stood—how his eyes flickered red to gray—and I whispered what I should have kept to thought, “My love, perhaps we should leave.”

He nodded, absent, but Jacques was smiling when we turned and in front of us before we took a single step.

“Did it say love?” he cooed, giggling into the ruffles of his sleeve, “I see now, I see.” Stepping back, he nodded and splayed all of his thin fingers—and too-long nails—toward me, “the sweet little kitty found himself a sap.” Lucient managed a squeak before he was silenced by the snap of Jacques fingers, “Did you find him before or after you abandoned my Iulia?”

“...after,” Lucient muttered, as his thoughts pleaded, I’m sorry, my love, I wasn’t expecting—

No, I cut, whatever this stronzo is up to, love, it’s not your doing. Let’s just try to get away before we lose any important pieces, yes?

A smile, small but mine, spread on Lucient’s face before Jacques ruined it.

“Oh, oh, oh,” he tittered, eyes flicking to ours as he stabbed one of those fearful fingers up to waggle it at us, “I know that look. You’ve claimed this one, haven’t you, Lucient?”

Shivering, Lucient remained calm, if firm, “That is none of your business.”

“Right, it isn’t,” Jacques agreed too easily, smiling too wide, “but it is rare to hear the thoughts of one you’ve claimed. My pet and I shared that gift, were you aware?” Lucient twitched, proving he wasn’t and Jacques chuckled, “I will find her, reclaim her, and do you think this love you’ve tricked yourselves into feeling can save you from my wrath—or hers—when I do?”

Sticking on what mattered to him at the moment, Lucient huffed, “It isn’t a trick but I wouldn't expect you to understand, the most you’ve ever felt for another was ownership. When's the last time your heart even beat?”

“It doesn't,” Jacques said flatly, slipping behind us, back toward his home as he continued in a dismissive tone, “We've no heart to give, no soul to share, only lifetimes of blood and lust that is positively scrumptious.” I turned to watch him, but Lucient didn’t—choosing instead to fume. “You're young yet,” Jacques continued, eyes on me, “weighed down by the thump, thumping of that barely living lie inside you…but it'll stop,” he waved a hand as he spun, walking through the open doors, “Do return when it does, perhaps when all that naivete has drained you'll allow me a taste of the big, warm puppy you’ve made.”

We were beyond the maze of shrubbery before Lucient addressed a question I hadn’t asked, “My Mistress was warm too. Not as warm as you, treasure, and unable to stay in the sun so long, but she felt alive in a way few of us do. I imagine that’s why your heat threw him,” To himself, he added, “a boon, that, it could’ve been worse...”

Distracting from the sorrow growing in his eyes, I asked, “He called her his—”

“Pet, yes, and claim,” he finished for me, grabbing my arm tighter, “It’s a common term for...most, yet not all. But he is her maker, just as she is mine...”

Far from the manor then, from the lights, he shined. Skin, hair, eyes, all of him luminescent in the silvery blues of the sun’s reflected light and, turning him to me, I cut him off. He stared, watching, waiting, and I let him. For a breath, another, until his lips twitched to speak he waited. And I silenced him with my own, feeding him the heat of my tongue and warmth of my thoughts, as you are mine, my love.

Pulling free, I left him swooning and savoring my taste. “Mm, so perfect you are,” he whispered, “I ache to reward it.”

And I couldn’t help but ruin the mood, “Puppy gets a treat?”

“I take it back,” he said flatly but, as he walked ahead of me, he looked over his shoulder with a quirk in his smile, “I'll go to the library alone.”

“Library?” I asked, eyes on the approaching lights of the city—dim as they were with how few lamps it possessed—but he didn’t answer, or slow, and I chased, “Wait, no, you don't mean it,” giggling, he continued faster, but not enough to blur, to leave me behind, “My love,” I called again, and he ignored me again, “Lucient!”

He was in the city when I caught up, slow as I had to go with all the bodies filling the streets—despite the dark, Paris did not appear to sleep. Up against a wall I found him, waiting for me and smiling.

Salacious tone on full display, he asked if I enjoyed my walk, “Bonsoir, belle, bonne balade?”

I groaned, pulling him against me to snip, “Do you know how difficult it is to chase you while keeping to a reasonable speed?”

“Oui,” he teased, kissing my neck.

“You're terrible,” I told those kisses, chuckling as I did.

“And you love me,” he reminded through more, draping his arms over my shoulders and leaning back against the wall.

Following his lead I returned each soft touch of those lips and the use of a native tongue, whispering, “A un livello impossibile, ti amo.”

Gasping with the heat of me against him, he begged, “Say it again, treasure…”

“Ti amo, Lucient,” I cooed through nibbles of his ear.

“Mm, Je t’aime, Ludovico,” he returned so sweetly.

Love was rare among our kind, we would learn—again and again we would. Few vampires could claim it, and those that did were fairly young, new, as we were then. Agelessness came with caveats, more so than the weaknesses we endured. Minds were not meant to live so long, bodies not meant to restitch so often. Many were driven mad and numb by the endless stretch of time they suffered. Companions they ached for, filled their long lives with, would wither in one way or another. Yet we did not. The opposite seemed true for us, it was only when we were apart that we lost ourselves, maddening and numbing, succumbing more and more to hunger and lust to feel whole again, real again—no matter how it stung to touch another.

This is not to say we were unique, no, I could never claim absolutes. But we never met others quite like us—and I still haven't.

#writeblr #snippet #writing #novel #before deluca #vampire romance #scene #it's a big one #>.>#no warnings though #i don't think #tell me if i missed a thing

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composttea · 11 months

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A Twilight rewrite

This post is regularly updated with each chapter!

🌲 Masterpost 🌲

Preface

I had considered a thousand ways she might die: disease, old age, car crash. Something as simple as a bad fall could kill her in an instant. But I had been certain of one thing: it wouldn’t be me. It had become a mantra in the past months, turned over and over in my mind until it was a tumbled stone. Not me. Not her. I was a wasteland, and yet the weed of obsession continued to grow between us. I was powerless against it, but I held on to my resolve. How pathetic I was to think we were anything but doomed.

The scent of her blood burned in my throat, dragging me back to the present. Behind me, the inferno roared on, flooding the room with choking, purple smoke. I could see the flames reflected in her dark eyes as they rolled and struggled to focus. If she had never come to Forks, she wouldn’t be staring into the face of her killer right now.

It was too late. I no longer had a choice. I took a final, searing breath before I pressed my mouth to her bloody wrist.

Chapter 1

The plane dipped out of the bright, clear sky into a gray haze. Clouds crushed against the windows. I stared at the book in my lap and pretended to read. Three hours ago, I was standing on the warm, solid ground in Phoenix.

My mom stood at the drop-off, smiling. I hefted my suitcase out of the back and made my way over to the side of the SUV.

“Ready?”

I shrugged and she frowned.

“You really don’t have to do this, you know. Phil will be fine on his own.”

A plane roared overhead, drowning her out. Her boyfriend was a baseball player, currently up for recruitment. Spring training was calling his name, and with it my mom.

I leaned in and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I want to, really. Just not looking forward to the flight.”

Renée hugged me back, squeezing my shoulders tight. “Oh, sweetie. I wish you weren’t all on your own.”

“I’ll have Charlie! And school.” I doubted I would be making many friends. I think Renée could tell. Even if she struggled with the practical side of things, she could pick up on the nuances of my feelings better than I could. It was reassuring, but there was nowhere to hide.

The car behind us honked. Renée turned and waved at them.

“Who else is going to keep Charlie company?”

She smiled softly at me. “Did you pack enough clothes? Washington gets cold.”

I waggled my carry-on, containing little more than a book and a fluffy, dark green sweater. Renée had knitted it a few years back, one of many hobbies she had tried out over the years. It was a bit lumpy, but it was the warmest thing I owned. “I’ll be fine, promise.”

I was a bad liar, but a persistent one.

The traffic was starting to pile up, and Renée darted forward to scoop me into a tight hug.

“I love you so much, honey.” She stepped back and looked me in the eyes. Hers were a sparkling green-gold that I envied. Just brown for me. “Call me as soon as you land, okay?”

I nodded and started toward the entrance. I didn’t look back.

Charlie picked me up from the airport in the police cruiser. I sank into my seat as he loaded my bag in the back. The drive to his house was familiar, but things had changed in the three years since I had last visited. The diner had a new sign. The city had patched up a few of the bigger potholes. I considered picking something at random to talk about, just to save us both from the awkward silence.

“You remember Billy Black?”

Charlie and I shared a brain sometimes.

“Yeah?” Of course I remembered Billy. He and my dad had been friends as long as I could remember.

“If you want it, I just bought a ‘63 Chevy off him. He and his son fixed it up over the winter.”

I looked away from the thick mist looming over the road at Charlie. “That’s—wow, thank you.”

He shrugged. After a moment, he tested out a smile. “Agreeing before you even take a look?

“I have very low standards.”

Charlie laughed lightly and tried to continue with the small talk.

We pulled up on the road leading to the house. Like everything else in the town, it was crowded out by green. Trees and moss peeked through every gap and crack in the road. Even the sky looked sickly, like it was starting to go rotten at the horizon.

There was a hulking, red pick-up waiting in the driveway. The fenders curved like boxing gloves, challenging any lesser car to impact. I loved it.

As soon as he got my suitcase upstairs, Charlie mumbled something about a baseball game and made himself scarce. It was eerie being back in my old room. I spent a couple months every summer here as a kid, captured in the layers of pictures and decorations like bugs in amber. Did you know “nostalgia” was originally a sickness? My chest tightened as I took in the faded blue paint and the chipped desk tucked in the corner. Charlie and I found it at a garage sale when I was eleven. I got to unpacking right away, but I took my time. Once my stuff was put away I would be actually living here.

***

A small pile of sawdust and woodchips greeted me in the living room. I had spent the night listening to music, loudly enough that I couldn’t hear anything else. Had someone broken something? My brother emerged from his room a moment later, answering my question.

It was the knife. The knife was too blunt. Must have been. Jasper looked up from straightening his cuffs and glowered at me.

“Good morning.” I waved at the pile on the coffee table. “Trouble last night?”

“It was shaping up nicely, but my hand slipped.” Jasper stalked past me to the coat closet.

I could see the image in his mind with perfect clarity: a waterfowl of some sort, whittled from a block of pine. It splintered into nothing when he lost his focus and crushed it.

“Maybe you should try stone.”

“Maybe you should try staying out of my head,” he snapped. He closed his eyes for a moment before returning my gaze. “Sorry.”

I wasn’t looking forward to babysitting again today. This semester was Jasper’s first full-time enrollment at a high school. We tested the waters last fall. Constance thought he was doing well (and I suppose he was, in terms of body count) , but she didn’t have to hear his every thought about the swathes of humans he was in classes with. But he hadn’t acted on any of it, which was what mattered. It didn’t help things that Jasper was keenly aware of my frustration with him, however hard I tried to disguise it. There were thoughts and feelings we silently agreed never to speak about, and so far, the system was working.

“There’s a new student today.” I met Jasper at the closet and took my coat when he handed it to me. “The Chief’s daughter.”

“Hm.” He pulled on his boots. Does he think I forgot?

“I thought the students might be excited about it—something a little different than usual.”

Jasper’s mouth was pressed into a hard line, but he smiled at me. “Hoping to make a friend?”

I laughed, and he joined me. Since our sister served her time last year, we had to be each other’s company. As much as I disliked looking over my shoulder, it was nice to have anyone to talk to. I know he was annoyed—to put it lightly—at the mental invasiveness of my presence, but he felt the same.

I got to watch the new girl through a hundred lenses, each colored with its own narrative. Isabella arrived this morning in a 1963 Chevy pickup, rust red and extremely vocal. The boy who saw her get out of the truck thought she was pretty—he only had a glimpse of dark brown hair and pale skin, and I frankly didn’t care to look closer.

I wish I could say it was miserable. In fact, it was just as mind-numbingly dull as it always was. This was Asphodel, not Tartarus. For me, at least. My brother was struggling today. The student body fawned and fussed over Isabella—no, just Bella, she insisted—completely unaware there was a wreck of a vampire a hair’s breadth from snapping in their midst.

Jasper’s gifts were particularly maladapted to a high school environment. Yes, hearing the endless torrent of thoughts of every human I passed was a living nightmare, but experiencing the emotional turmoil of three hundred teenagers for six hours at a time was a special circle of hell. The thoughts I caught when I passed Jas in the halls were enough I considered pulling him aside, as much as he would hate it. He was older—biologically and empirically, by two and sixty years, respectively—but I often felt like the elder sibling, seeing as I had been committed to our family’s particular lifestyle significantly longer. It was never easy, abstaining from human blood. Moral high ground was rather weak compensation for the agony of rejecting one’s base nature.

I caught him walking to the cafeteria.

Don’t. He kept his eyes straight ahead as we moved through the line.

I nodded, picking items for my tray the way one might select a series of paperweights.

The students nearest our table were surprised to see both of us. The Cullens. Only after I took my seat did I realize someone was saying our name out loud. I tilted my head. Jessica Stanley, font of gossip, was explaining our presence to the new girl. Bella was lucky to have landed among her social circle. I personally found her rather insufferable, but I think this was mostly because I had unfiltered access to a bazaar of personal thoughts at all times; I didn’t need any assistance.

Currently, Jessica’s thoughts were scattered. I saw the pair of us through her eyes and grit my teeth. Flawless. Stunning. Irresistible. To her, the pale flesh and sunken eyes faded to the background; if anything, it added to the mystique. The uncanny movement was grace. The stillness was refined composure. Jessica turned back to Bella, scattering my train of thought. I flicked my eyes to my brother, who was counting down from one thousand—in Spanish this time—and frowned.

“The new girl …” I started. His face soured.

“What?” He thought I was going to ask about her, if she was a singer. I despised the slang. It made the whole affair sound poetic, as though giving in were in the best interest of both parties. But I had other questions in mind.

“Can you read her?”

Jasper drew his eyebrows together. “Why?”

“I’m curious.” I tried to keep my tone casual, even though I knew he could sense my interest, impatient as it was.

Why? He didn’t bother to speak aloud this time.

“I can’t. Not from here.” I tried again, tuning out the endless chatter of hundreds of students, searching for an unfamiliar voice. I heard Jasper chuckle at my frustration and shot him a glare. After a moment’s hesitation, I fixed my gaze on the girl, on the crown of her soft, brown hair, and listened.

Silence.

Like a void had opened up in the middle of the bustling cafeteria.

Without warning, she looked up, directly at me. Her eyes widened and she looked quickly away. I could see her cheeks flush from our table. I let myself smile. At least she was human.

I looked at my brother again. His rigid posture was unchanged, but his head tilted slightly to the side, like a cat inspecting a mouse.

“She’s uncomfortable. Uneasy.”

“Obviously.” I crossed my arms, tamping down on the quiet jealousy rising from my chest.

Jasper scowled. “You would know if I was lying to you.”

I elbowed him, hard enough to loosen his posture, and smiled. “Not necessarily. You’re crafty.” Bella must have seen the movement, as she looked over at our table again, lingering only a moment before returning to her conversation.

Beside me, Jasper grinned back for a split second, teeth glinting in the discolored light from above.

I let him return to his meditation and tuned back in to the Jessica Stanley show. I fussed with the stem of the waxy apple on my tray. My feigned disinterest was showier than strictly necessary, but I was feeling a bit theatrical.

“They’re not actually related. Probably.” Jessica shrugged, animating her dangling earrings. Her thoughts cycled through the regular gossip of incest and cults. She was of the opinion my mother was some kind of secret celebrity health guru who had us on special diets, thus the general “anemic model” look. I smirked. “They have a sister who’s older.”

“She’s dating Jasper,” Mike interjected. I could see Jessica’s glare in his mind as he shied away. He looked at Bella and noted her confused expression.

“The weird one?” Jessica put it so plainly I had to press my lips together to stop a laugh. I felt a sharp kick to my shin. Jasper was paying more attention than he was willing to admit.

Angela spoke next, her voice melodic in comparison to some of the others at the table. “We don’t know if they’re dating. They tend to keep to themselves.”

Jessica nodded, solemn. If there was any settled law at this school, it was that the Cullens were off limits. Look but don’t touch. Bella seemed to get the message, nodding along as she picked at her food.

“Anyway, they moved back here a couple years ago. Their mom got a job at the hospital.” Jessica lowered her voice. “You have to see her. Drop-dead pretty. Like, stupid hot. I can’t believe she’s a doctor.”

Bella seemed intrigued, but distant. Angela lowered her eyes, her face a very composed sort of neutral. I tried to let her keep her thoughts private, but I couldn’t help but overhear flickers of doubt, or perhaps hope. The rest of the table found the old news boring. Eric Yorkie was chomping at the bit, desperate to ask Bella questions but afraid to scare her off.

Angela changed the subject, genuinely curious to know what classes Bella was taking. She stumbled a bit as she walked through her schedule, each of the other students watching with rapt attention, wondering what her school was like in Phoenix. I pitied her, despite myself. Though I couldn’t say I wasn’t curious. I frowned as Jessica steered the conversation to after-school clubs, stemming the flow of Bella trivia for the time being.

I contented myself knowing I would have the chance to get my fill next period.

***

I made it to Bio in one piece. Each of my morning classes had made me introduce myself to the other students, as though they a). cared or b). didn’t already know. I had to wear gym clothes from the school to participate in PE (casualties were kept to a minimum, thankfully, by Jessica’s tactful approach to keeping me sidelined). I appreciated it, but the embarrassment was still stinging.

I was running late, and the entire class was seated by the time I entered the classroom. It was humid inside, the central heating no match against the pervasive damp. A tabletop fan sputtered from the front of the room. The teacher—Molina?—smiled at me.

“Isabella?”

“Just Bella.” I was still standing in the doorway, frantically trying to calculate where to sit. The room was completely full, and everyone was staring at me. Everyone except for one of the Cullens Jessica pointed out at lunch. I stepped fully into the room, bracing myself for another forced introduction. Instead I got a polite gesture to take a seat. I breathed my relief and walked down the aisle.

Ahead of me, the Cullen boy went stiff. I tried to meet his eyes as I took a seat: my mistake. My stomach turned to lead. My breath stalled in my throat. In the half second it took to pull my chair out, I saw the staggering depth of resentment seeping from the pits in his face. I literally stumbled as I sat down. I heard a quiet snicker from behind me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I looked away and pulled out my notebook, heart racing. What the hell?

The teacher started talking, picking up mid-topic, and the frigid eyes kept boring holes in my head. Was I afraid? My body said yes—the cold sweat, the dry mouth, that’s what this response was—but why? This kid was a freak. He was being a creep.

I looked over out of the corner of my eye, testing. Edward was leaning as far away from me as he possibly could while remaining in his seat. The tendons in his wrist stood out, casting shadows in the harsh fluorescent light. I didn’t try to meet his gaze.

I tried to focus on the lecture, I really did, but how could I? After some amount of time, I realized he wasn’t breathing. Or he was, but so shallowly I couldn’t hear. I tried to surreptitiously sniff my shirt. Was the ghost of PE still haunting me? Unless he could smell shame, I thought I was okay. I let down my hair, hoping to hide behind the curtain in my peripheral vision.

He whimpered. An actual whimper, nearly inaudible, but I was sure of it. I turned on him. I didn’t care if the other students were watching this. He was the one being weird.

He was frozen, staring straight ahead. Not even staring. It was like he was absent from his body. I faltered. Was he having a seizure? I glanced around the room, but no one seemed to have noticed. That, or this was normal behavior.

I waited, and waited. For him to drop dead. For laser beams to shoot out of his eyes. I don’t know. But the sinking wrongness of the situation continued to lurk and writhe in me until the bell rang.

Before the sound ended, he had swept himself out of the room, leaving a vacuum behind. I didn’t know how to describe the ache I felt, or why tears were pricking at my eyes. I did know that I had another class to get to.

The Universe was not content to let me suffer quietly; it insisted on rubbing salt in the wound.

I found myself back at the front office at the end of the day. I was supposed to check in and confirm I wasn’t going to run screaming into the woods, or something. The tiny room was crowded with announcements and flyers for far more clubs and activities than a school this size ought to have. In front of the desk was my new nemesis: Edward Cullen. I had almost gotten to the point of thinking it was all in my head. Surely I fabricated the whole scenario to make my awkward first day more eventful. But there he was, lean and imposing, stupid, copper-colored hair looking artfully disheveled, his back to the door, and thankfully, to me.

I overheard his conversation with the administrator. It occurred to me that this was the first time I’d heard his voice. It was slick, subtle like a flytrap.

“There has to be a way.”

“I’m sorry, Edward, it’s simply too late in the year to change classes.”

I felt like I had been slapped in the face. He couldn’t possibly be talking about me. That was absurd.

“I’ve already taken Biology. You can check my record from my last school, it’s all there.” His voice was pleading. “I’ll take an independent study.”

The administrator peered up at him over the red rims of her glasses. She sighed. “Look, I’ve done everything I can. You—”

Edward straightened, startling the woman into silence.

"Fine,” he snapped. “I guess it’s too late.”

I realized he was turning away from the desk a moment later and jumped out of the way as he glided toward the door. He didn’t look at me again.

“Hun?”

The administrator was talking to me. I had been standing by the door for several seconds. Once my brain sputtered back to life, I handed her my forms and finished my exchange.

I was shaking when I got into my truck. It took two tries to get the key in the ignition, and the tears I had been holding back finally made their appearance. The little bubble I had been cradling burst. I swiped at my face and sniffed, thankful the noise of the engine muffled the pathetic sounds I was making.

To be continued . . .

#twilight renaissance #twilight rewrite #duskfic #twilight fanfic

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efrmellifer · 2 years

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Wondrous Tails 2022: Two

Erotica/Discovery/Anonymous (Mature, bordering on Explicit) Etien finds a stash Estinien keeps

Etien entered Estinien’s room, the pile of his clean clothes balanced carefully on one arm so she could push the door open.

She set the garments each in their place in the chest of drawers, layering the shirts one atop the other, settling trousers into the wooden drawer beneath that one.

When she was done with them, she moved to the desk on the other side of the bed, gathering up and sorting letters, notes from Radz-at-Han, leaves of parchment that looked a little more personal. She opened a drawer to place them inside in their discrete bundles, pausing when she saw what rested within.

Art of a woman in a rather suggestive position, the neckline of her dress falling, its hem high up her thigh. Etien would have thought it was someone else, if it had been missing the scar across the bridge of the nose.

But it wasn’t. Faint, but just below level with the corners of the eyes, straight across.

This was a drawing of her.

She lifted it from the drawer with her free hand, looking for a signature. She didn’t know Estinien could draw so well. Then again, she’d never really asked.

Ah, no, this bore a Far Eastern name in its corner. She tipped her head, ears swiveling back as the floorboards creaked behind her.

“What do you have there?”

She turned. “I could ask you the same, Estinien.” There was mirth in her voice as she held the drawing up.

Estinien blushed to the tips of his ears. “I hadn’t intended those to be seen by anyone. Other than myself, I suppose.”

She sat down on his bed, patting the mattress to ask him to sit with her. “I’m not upset, I promise you. Just curious.”

“it started when I was in Kugane. While you were on the First. I was in the Shiokaze Hostelry when an artist sat down beside me, working on… well, that.”

She hummed. “I see.”

“I asked him if I could buy it when he was done, and I suppose he told his friends, because I’ve found artists in a few places now willing and eager to sell me their depictions of you.” He sighed. “I know we were not yet partnered to each other when I bought the first one, so I understand if you’re—”

“There’s no use being anything but flattered. I’m glad they made it into your hands, where they’re safe.” After a beat, she laughed. “Wait, I have a silly question.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for it.

“...do you think Krile knows?”

“I fervently hope she does not.”

Another little chuckle. Leaning forward, Etien scooped the rest of the artwork out of the drawer. “So, tell me about each.”

“I was told this one was designed to be printed on a long pillowcase, but I didn’t take the woman who drew it up on her offer to have someone do that printing for me.” He set it aside. “This is one of the ones I requested anonymously—well, through correspondence and under a pseudonym, at least. I figured if they didn’t have to look me in the eyes, and didn’t know my name, they might allow themselves a little more freedom.” He set that one aside too, shifting in some aroused discomfort as the next one was uncovered. “And as you can see, they certainly did.”

This one was far more explicit than the first few pinup types had been. Etien’s tail in the picture disappeared off the edge of the page, as if wrapped around the person whose point of view it was drawn in.

Estinien shifted on the bed again, then cleared his throat before speaking. “When I see these, I’m made aware how unfair this is. That this is all fantasizing onto parchment for them, and I’m,” he snorted a little bit, “reaping the benefits of it and getting to call you mine.”

“Well, you earned that right,” she replied. She blinked slowly. “What makes you realize that?”

“You’re drawn too perfect.”

Etien’s eyebrows knit.

For a second, Estinien scrambled for words, but then just pointed to the art. “They’re missing the scar across your back. They wouldn’t know about it, certainly, but some part of me always wonders if they would ignore it if they did know.”

“Oh.” She leafed through the rest of the pile. “Do you have a favorite?”

Estinien’s cheeks took on more color again. “There is one from Radz-at-Han…” he shifted the pages around, pulling out one that was much bigger than the others, folded into quarters to fit in the pile.

When he unfolded it, Etien gasped.

“It is still speculation on the artist’s part, but it feels the most authentic.”

It was also one of the more tasteful ones—a nude, but one where the focus was not on her bare breasts, or drawing attention to how the curl of her tail around her body censored the rest of her. Her gaze was lifted as if drawn to another figure, pleased, interested.

“That is how I picture you in my mind,” Estinien piped up when the silence had stretched on a bit. “I like to imagine this is you looking up when Aymeric enters the room, perhaps, turning your attention from me to him for a moment, the same love in your eyes. And the love makes it. Even without all your scars and the spots only we would know of on you, the love is what makes this one you.”

#fic #WondroustailsofffxivWriting #Estinyan

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edactually · 1 year

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Stede POV - 9.3

Stede opted to get changed in the bathroom rather than walk out of there in a towel. Somehow he didn’t think him being half-naked would have the same effect on Ed as it had on him when Ed had done it.

Ed wasn’t in the bedroom when he emerged, but he noticed his suitcase was gone, as were the clothes he’d left out of the bed. Ed must have packed them for him to save him time before he left to find another hotel. Such a kind gesture, but one that made his heart sink like a stone.

Stede returned to the living room to find Ed on the couch. The TV was on and he had the remote in his hand, mindlessly flicking through the channels, never stopping on one for more than a second at a time. It was like he was going through the motions rather than searching for something to actually watch.

He looked up as Stede approached and the traces of humour that he’d expressed before were missing. Their joking had broken the tension earlier, but now it was back in full force. Stede took a seat on the couch, as far away from Ed as he could manage, which was actually quite a distance. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Ed had stopped flicking through TV channels and it had stopped on an episode of Frasier.

The volume wasn’t turned up loud, so it was really just background noise. It was actually helpful, it made it easier to talk than if Stede was just speaking into silence. “I think we need to talk, don’t you?”

Ed switched the TV off and set the remote down on the coffee table and nodded.

Stede had tried to plan what he was going to say, but none of the words came to mind, especially now that he was lacking the background noise as a buffer. He’d just have to wing it. “I think we’ve confused our relationship again. It’s entirely my fault.”

He would have continued, but Ed grabbed a cushion from the couch and buried his face into it. “Ed?” Stede slid along the couch until he was next to him, his concern outweighing any sense of propriety. “Are you ok?”

The response was a muffled mumble.

“I can’t hear you when you talk into the pillow.”

Ed lifted his head, but not enough for Stede to see his face, just enough that his words were at least slightly clearer. “Knew this would fucking happen.”

Stede’s brows knitted together. “Knew what would happen?”

“This,” Ed waved a hand in Stede’s general direction. “You. The fucking speech about staying friends.”

Stede’s heart sank. “You don’t want to be friends?”

Ed shook his head and buried his cheek into the cushion. “Not in the way you want to be friends.”

Oh. Oh no.

But Stede had thought… but if Ed didn��t want them to be friends with benefits then why had he kissed him back? Why had he initiated phone sex? Why had he agreed to be Stede’s sex ed teacher? What the hell did all of that mean?

There had to be something he was missing, it just didn’t make any sense.

“I’m sorry Ed, I don’t understand. What exactly is it that you want?”

Ed scoffed and Stede suddenly found the cushion being thrown at him, hitting him square in the chest. “No, Stede. How about you tell me what the fuck you want, because I have no idea.”

And Ed was laughing now, but there was no warmth, no joy in it. It felt cruel, not like Ed’s laughter at all. “You seem to change your mind every five seconds, so just tell me the truth.”

“I don’t –” He took a breath to try and calm himself. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Fuck off you don’t know what I mean.” Ed snarled and stood up. Stede stayed where he was sitting, clutching onto the pillow like a lifeline. “I offer to be your first kiss as practice, ok, that’s on me. And the kiss at Spanish Jackie’s, yep, that’s my fault too. Seemed like you were pretty into it, but hey, I could have misread that.”

Ed hadn’t misread anything. If it hadn’t been for Stede’s promise to look after the kids, he would have taken Ed home with him.

“Then,” And Ed was doing that harsh laugh again. “You send me that speech over text saying we’ve muddied the waters and should just stay friends. You made me feel like a fucking idiot, Stede! I figured I’d just been misreading things, so if you wanted to stay platonic then I’d just let it be and respect that, but you didn’t stay fucking platonic did you?”

Ed’s hands were in his hair, tugging it loose from the messy bun he’d scraped it into for his shower. “It’s not platonic to keep insisting your friend wear your jacket. It’s not platonic to keep staring at your friend’s lips after choosing to watch one of the most romantic movies ever. It’s not platonic to draw all over each other’s faces at a painting class then sensually clean the paint off. It’s not platonic to play footsie under a dinner table. Do you have any idea how fucking confused I was?”

He hadn’t, but he was starting to understand. Oh god, it must have been so irritating to hear Stede say one thing and do another, no wonder Ed was so furious with him.

“You do all of that and then you invite me out on a date with your fucking boyfriend–”

“Sam’s not–”

But he had no chance to interrupt as Ed continued, too infuriated to listen. “Sam was like a slap to the face, but it seemed like a pretty obvious hint that you weren’t into me, until you came over and helped me pack.”

He heated at the memory, even if Ed was pacing up and down and looking like the very thought of it just made him angry now. “You kissed me ! You had your hands all over me ! You talked about waiting for me! I thought we were finally on the right track, especially after the…”

Ed stammered through his next words. “You know, the phone thing. And I don’t blame you for things getting in the way, fuck knows I was busy too, but we finally manage to arrange a proper call after weeks of trying and at the first hint of something band related you just hang up! You didn’t even give me a chance to explain or a chance to choose you! You just fucked off back to Sam because that was the easier option, right?”

And Stede was certain that Ed would have carried on, for it seemed like he still had plenty left to say, but Stede got to his feet and stopped him in his pacing by clasping him by the shoulders. “I’m sorry, Ed.” His eyes stung with tears. “I never meant to put you through any of that, I swear I didn’t! I was confused too, I didn’t know what I was doing, I just knew that I had to try and do what was best for you but it was so–”

“Best for me ?” Ed growled. “That’s fucking rich seeing as how you’ve been torturing me.”

“Torturing you? Ed, I swear that’s not what I meant to do!”

“Just tell me, Stede! Tell me what it is you fucking want from me because I can’t stand the indecision and the fucking mind games!”

“I want you! ” Stede yelled, and was immediately horrified by his outburst. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.”

Ed’s eyes were narrowed. “Want me how?”

This hadn’t been the way he’d wanted to tell him. Stede had pictured a quiet moment alone, not screaming in a hotel room. “I want you in every way possible. I want you as a friend, I want you as a lover, I want you as…” he paused to take a shuddering breath. “I like you. So, so much. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. All I want is to ask you out and I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because look at you!” Stede felt exasperated. This was something that was obvious to everyone, he doubted Ed needed it spelled out. “And look at me! How could you ever possibly want me like that? You’re beautiful and talented and charming and you could have anyone you wanted, why would you settle for someone like me, a pathetic divorcée who never even kissed another man before you? I’m so woefully inexperienced and I know you said that wasn’t a big deal, but how am I supposed to make you happy? I’m not good enough for you, Ed!”

Stede hung his head in shame, not wanting to see Ed’s reaction.

“Who said that?”

Stede lifted his head cautiously. Ed had gone lethally quiet, his hands in fists at his sides. “What?”

“Who said you weren’t good enough for me?”

“I – no one. It’s just – well, isn’t it obvious?”

“So you’re good enough for Sam.” Ed’s eyes flashed. “But not good enough for me?”

What was this weird obsession with Sam? Ed had only met the man once and he’d been rude to him then too. “There’s nothing going on with Sam! We had a couple of dates and I only went on the second one because I was trying to get over you!”

“I see.” Ed took a step closer. “And did it work?”

Stede’s breath caught in his throat. Ed was close enough to touch now and Stede could smell his cologne - leather and cardamom and jasmine - god, he had missed that. But there was something else, something floral and herbal…

Lavender. It was lavender.

“No,” Stede gasped, trying to shake loose that scent of Ed that curled around his senses like smoke and made his mind go foggy. “I tried, but I can’t do it. I’m so consumed by you Ed, no one else comes close.”

“So what were you doing with Sam on the night we were supposed to have our call?”

Stede blinked. How did Ed know about that? “I went out for drinks with Pete and Lucius to try and drown my sorrows, we ran into Sam.”

Ed’s eyes were cold, his jaw set. “Did he try anything while you were drunk, Stede?”

“What?” Stede’s eyes were blown wide. “Of course not! We just talked, Lucius and Pete were there the whole time. We talked about you and he told me– he told me–”

“What did he tell you?”

Stede swallowed. “He told me that if you were trying so hard to stay in touch despite being so busy then it meant you cared. He said I needed to stop assuming I was ruining your life just by being present in it.”

“Fucking guy.” Ed grumbled. “I hate it when he’s right.”

“Nothing happened.” And even though he knew it might not be appreciated, he grabbed Ed’s hand and squeezed it tight. Ed didn’t pull away. “He didn’t try anything, but I would have said no if he did. It’s just you, Ed. You’re the only one that I want.”

Ed looked down at their clasped hands. “Are you going to ask me then?”

Stede’s brow furrowed. “Ask you what?”

“You said you wanted to ask me out.” Ed’s gaze flicked back up to meet his and Stede felt his knees weaken at the sight of those brown eyes boring down into his soul. “Ask me.”

“I - I can’t.” Stede whimpered.

Ed intertwined their fingers together and lifted their clasped hands. Without breaking eye contact, he kissed each one of Stede’s knuckles, moving slowly and leisurely as if they had all the time in the world. Each press of Ed’s lips to his fingers tied Stede’s stomach in knots and he felt like he was being courted by a medieval knight.

“Are you scared?”

His breath was warm across Stede’s skin but he shivered anyway. He couldn’t answer, so he just clamped his mouth shut and nodded quickly before he lost the nerve to do even that.

“Hmm.” Ed lifted Stede’s arm up further and turned it so he could press a kiss against his wrist, right over his pulse point. He didn’t stop there, and his beard tickled against Stede’s bare skin as Ed pushed the sleeve of his jumper up and out of the way to keep kissing along Stede’s arm. He paused at the crease of his elbow. “How about now?”

Stede released a breath that was half a gasp and half a laugh. “Terrified.”

Ed dropped his hold and Stede’s arm swung down uselessly to his side, as limp as cooked spaghetti. Ed took another step closer and rested his hands on Stede’s hips. They weren’t tugging or manhandling him in any way, they just rested there, but it brought Ed close enough that they were only a hair’s breadth from their lips touching. “Are you scared I’ll say no?” Ed whispered.

The tip of Stede’s tongue darted out to run over his own lips, suddenly feeling very dry. “I’m scared you’ll say yes.”

“Why is that scary?”

Stede shivered and closed his eyes. “Because you’ll see me. You’ll see all the ways I’m not good enough for you and you’ll leave. I don’t want you to leave, Ed.”

“I already see you, Stede.” He felt a hand leave his waist and a moment later it was cupping his cheek. He felt Ed’s thumb brush against it and only then did he notice that he’d started crying. “I see you, and I like you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

And Stede kept his eyes screwed shut as more tears came, leaking out of the corners like a dripping tap.

“Look at me.”

Stede opened his eyes. They were blurry with tears and it took a few blinks to clear them so he could focus on the sight before him, but what a sight it was. Ed with his shining brown eyes lit up like twin pools of moonlight, the slight curve of a smile hinted on his lips. His rough thumb swept away another of Stede’s tears that fell. “Ask me.”

Stede took a few deep breaths and then took the plunge. “Edward Teach, would you like to go on a date with me?”

Ed’s response was the light brushing of his lips against Stede’s. Not enough to be a kiss, not quite, but enough that Stede could not only hear every word that Ed spoke, but feel it as well. “Stede Bonnet,” Ed murmured. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

And then Ed pressed in firmer and turned that light brushing of lips into a real kiss. Stede could taste the salt from his own tears which still flowed down his face, but they weren’t tears of sorrow any more. Stede laughed happily into the kiss and Ed joined in, and they giggled together in between kisses like the heavy weight that had burdened them both was finally lifted.

But the giggling soon gave way to desperate gasps as it sunk in that this was the first time in a month that they had been together in person. For once, there were no family emergencies, no meetings, no rehearsals, no distractions. They both had a day cleared in their schedules, an evening together that would have no interruptions.

That was what Stede was thinking as he broke the kiss to look into Ed’s eyes again. They were molten fire, and Stede didn’t need to ask to know he was thinking the same thing, but he didn’t want to assume. He’d fucked up a lot by making assumptions about what Ed wanted.

“Ed,” Stede gasped. “You don’t have anywhere else to be? No band meeting or rehearsal or?”

Ed nipped at Stede’s lower lip. It was playful, but he knew it was also a little punishment for daring to bring up work. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Stede grinned and leaned back enough to hold out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

Ed raised an eyebrow but fished the device out of his pocket and placed it in Stede’s palm. Stede smirked as he switched the phone off and tossed it onto the couch. Before Ed could speak, Stede held up a finger to silence him and took his own phone out, only to switch it off as well and throw it onto the couch to join Ed’s. “No distractions.”

Stede went back in to resume their kiss but Ed reared back and Stede felt his stomach plummet. But Ed was still smiling and grabbed Stede by the hands to tug him towards the main door to the hotel room. Stede went along but couldn’t follow what Ed was trying to tell him until he plucked the Do Not Disturb sign that hung from the door handle. He held it in the air between them and let it swing back and forth by its hook from one finger. “No distractions.”

Stede had never been turned on by a Do Not Disturb sign before, but now he feared he’d never be able to look at one in the same way again.

He tugged open the door to hang the sign from the handle on the side that faced into the hallway, but something else occurred to him once he’d slammed the door shut. “Shit, does anyone else have a key to your room?”

“Fuck.” Ed’s gaze flicked around the room, then brightened when he spotted something. Stede waited while he retrieved a chair from the small dining area and propped it beneath the door handle so it couldn’t turn. “We really aren’t taking any chances, huh?”

Stede smirked as he hooked his fingers through the belt loops on Ed’s jeans and pulled him back in. “I have waited too long for you, Ed Teach. My own stupid fault for not having the guts to do something about it sooner. So no, I am not risking anyone or anything interrupting us again. I don’t care if the hotel is on fire, we’re not leaving this room tonight.” And then just on the off-chance that he was making assumptions about what Ed wanted again: “If that’s what you want? You don’t have to do–”

His next words were stolen by Ed’s lips crashing against his, which was just as well because he couldn’t recall what he had been about to say anyway. Ed’s mouth was hot and frantic and to say he was attacking Stede with it would be an understatement because Stede could already feel his lips starting to swell from the force of it. But Ed could tear him apart and he’d fall to pieces thanking him for the experience.

“There you go again,” Ed growled when he finally came up for air. “Trying to make my decisions for me.”

“I’m sorry.” Stede whimpered. In between frenzied kisses, Ed had managed to press him back against the wall and he could feel the light switch digging in between his shoulder blades. It was only a small, uncomfortable pressure, but Stede figured it was the least he deserved for what he’d put Ed through. “I’m really sorry, I’m just trying not to assume I know what you want without asking.”

Ed’s demeanour visibly softened, although Stede didn’t think he’d really been angry with him in the first place. Irritated? Probably. Stede had been told before that he was rather annoying. “Hey now.” Ed’s hands moved from where they rested on his hips to slide up Stede’s back. He must have felt the ridge of the light switch against his hand because he frowned and pulled Stede away from the wall.

“I appreciate you checking in with me, Stede.” Ed’s hands stayed on Stede’s back, rubbing slow circles against the spot where the light switch had been digging into him. “You’re not entirely to blame for everything that happened, I could have just bit the bullet and asked you out, so I’m sorry that I didn’t. But fuck,” Ed suddenly burst into laughter and his head fell forwards to rest against Stede’s collarbone. “I thought I was being so obvious with my flirting!”

“Oh.” Stede was glad that Ed wasn’t able to look at him right now, because he was pretty sure his face was as red as a rose. “I thought you were just flirtatious by nature. Besides, you love teasing me, I just thought it was part of that and you thought it was funny.”

Ed nuzzled against his neck affectionately and Stede found his arms wrapping around Ed’s waist of their own accord, anchoring the other man against his body. “I do love teasing you. But that flirting was all real and all for you, baby.”

Ed wasn’t playing fair, he knew what that word did to him. Stede went limp in Ed’s arms but mercifully remained conscious even as the sensation of Ed’s lips travelling up his neck made him feel dizzy. They brushed featherlight along the side of his jaw and stopped at his earlobe, which Ed gave a playful nip.

Stede was putty in his hands as Ed breathed into his ear. “I want you, Stede.” Ed’s voice was low and sultry yet still warm. It was filled with not only lust but affection, and Stede felt like he was drowning in the sweet, syrupy honey of it. It was only four words, but Stede had never felt wanted, not in the way Ed wanted him.

Now he understood that Ed had meant it when he’d said he could see all of Stede and wasn’t going anywhere, because with just those four words he had told Stede everything he hadn’t known he’d needed to hear. Stede was desirable. He was attractive. And Ed liked him. Ed liked him, not in spite of every flaw that people had been pointing out to Stede since childhood, but because of them. The characteristics that had driven others away pulled Ed in closer. Ed liked Stede as he was, and he wasn’t asking him to change.

And how wonderful it was to have someone as magnificent as Ed see him as he truly was, and want him anyway.

As Ed’s mouth moved to kiss the tender spot behind his ear, Stede recalled Ed’s words from the last time they had seen each other in person. “You can have me.”

It was all the invitation Ed needed.

The hands on his back slipped down to grip the hem of his jumper and start sliding it upwards. Stede tried not to flinch as the soft flesh of his stomach was exposed, but Ed felt something was amiss as he pulled back to look at Stede inquisitively. Stede knew that Ed wanted him but knowing that and actually exposing his body to the man were two different things. Ed had paused with Stede’s jumper rucked up halfway around his torso, but he kept it in place there. “Is this jumper one of your creations then?”

Stede was a bit baffled that Ed’s mind was currently on knitwear and he looked down at the navy knit jumper he was wearing. Well, half-wearing. Ed had turned it into a cropped number. “Yes. I knitted it last year.”

“Very nice.” Ed mused as he ran his thumbs over the wool. “As good as it looks on you, I’m thinking right now it would look better on the floor, yeah?”

Stede gulped and Ed noticed immediately. “Or you can leave it on.” Ed smiled reassuringly. “That’s ok too.”

Stede hadn’t come this far to ruin the moment with his own insecurity. He gripped the hem of his jumper, pushing Ed’s hands out of the way to do so, and tugged it over his head in one swift move. He threw it as far across the room as he could so he wouldn’t be as tempted to retrieve it and put it back on. He didn’t get a chance to see where it had landed as Ed hauled him in by the shoulders to crash their lips together once more.

“Fuck, that was so hot, Stede.” Ed managed to murmur in between kisses. Stede tried to answer but found his mouth invaded by Ed’s tongue. It was like Ed had known Stede was about to come out with some self-deprecating comment and had found a way to effectively stop him from saying it.

Stede let Ed’s tongue work those insecurities out of him. The way it flicked against his own and ran along the roof of his mouth was more than enough to make him forget whatever insecure thoughts he’d wanted to voice. But Ed wasn’t done yet.

He broke their lips apart to trail kisses down Stede’s neck, and he tipped his head back to give Ed better access. His mouth stopped at the hollow of Stede’s throat where Ed began to suck against the soft flesh, drawing it between his teeth and releasing it again. It was going to leave a mark but Stede didn’t care. All he cared about was the feel of Ed’s mouth and the soft tickling of his beard against his exposed skin.

When Ed’s mouth left his neck, Stede mourned the loss, but Ed made up for it by kissing down Stede’s chest. His talented tongue flicked over Stede’s left nipple and made him gasp, and that gasp quickly turned into a loud moan as Ed sucked the nub of flesh into his mouth. Stede had never even considered that such a thing could feel so good, and then Ed upped the ante by gently biting down on his nipple and tugging it between his teeth.

“Oh fuck!” Stede cried out, and he felt the vibration of Ed’s laughter against his chest even as Ed’s tongue began to swirl around Stede’s nipple clamped between his teeth. One of Ed’s hands slid up Stede’s chest to toy with his neglected right nipple, rolling and pinching it between his thumb and index finger while his tongue worked over the left.

Perhaps it had been Ed’s intention to relax him, because when the man sank lower to pepper kisses along the soft flesh of Stede’s stomach, Stede didn’t flinch this time. The beard tickled and it made Stede giggle, but his fears that Ed wouldn’t find him as attractive with clothes off had been assuaged by the loving attention Ed was giving to his body. If he had any doubts about what Ed was thinking, Ed was quick to reassure through words.

“Fuck, do you have any idea how gorgeous you are, Stede?” His mouth roamed over Stede’s belly like it was a beautiful sight that could only be taken in by his lips. “So gorgeous. I can’t get enough.”

Ed had dropped to his knees and Stede suddenly felt the nerves rushing back as Ed’s hands rested on the waistband of his trousers. Stede’s arousal was plainly evident but Ed ignored it to look up at Stede’s face staring down at him. “If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.” He said. “Any time, any moment, doesn’t matter what I’m doing. You say stop and I’ll stop, don’t worry about disappointing me.”

He kept his eyes locked with Stede’s as he unbuttoned his trousers, but then he halted and Stede realised Ed was waiting for confirmation that he’d understood what he’d said. “Keep going.” Stede whispered.

The sound of the zipper being tugged down seemed to echo throughout the hotel room. Ed’s hands moved with careful precision as he tugged Stede’s trousers down his legs to land in a puddle on the floor. Ed wrapped a hand carefully around one ankle, and then the other, lifting each foot so he could remove the trousers completely and put them to one side. Stede had put his socks on after his shower but no shoes, and Ed’s fingers stroked over them.

“Silk?” He asked.

Stede stood in front of him, clad in nothing but a pair of light blue socks and matching boxer briefs that were doing very little to conceal his throbbing erection, and Ed wanted to talk about fabrics?

“Um, c-cashmere actually.” He managed to gasp out.

“Cashmere, eh?” Ed’s hand circled one of Stede’s ankles and moved up and down over the fabric on his leg in an almost mocking pantomime of how he could work Stede’s cock when he got his hands on it. “Yes, I remember how nice these felt.”

It was with a start that Stede realised these had been the socks he was wearing when he’d played footsie with Ed under the table at Anne’s birthday dinner. Ed had recognised them based on touch alone. Ed’s brown eyes stared up at him, molten with desire. “I think we’ll leave these on.”

Stede nodded fast enough that he wondered if he’d given himself whiplash. Whatever he wanted. He’d do whatever Ed wanted if it meant he’d finally pay some attention to his cock, oh please …

Ed’s hands slid up his legs and Stede shuddered as they came to rest at the tops of his thighs. Ed’s face was right in front of the bulge in Stede’s boxer briefs and there was no ignoring it now. “Well, what do we have here.” Ed murmured and Stede’s head hit the wall with a resounding thud as Ed began to mouth along the shape of his cock through his boxers.

The material was thin, but not thin enough, and Stede had to fist his hands against the wall behind him to stop himself from shoving them down and letting his cock spring free. He wanted Ed to set the pace for this. But Ed’s mouth left his cock to look up at him again. “Light blue.” He smirked. “You know what that means, don’t you, Stede?”

In terms of hanky code, yes he did. In terms of his boxers doing their best to hold back his straining cock? He had no idea.

The hands on his thighs slid up and fingers hooked in the elasticated waistband of his boxers but then they didn’t move. “Tell me what it means, Stede.”

Stede’s first word wasn’t a word at all, but a groan of frustration. “It– it doesn’t apply. The code is for handkerchiefs, not underwear.”

Ed tutted. “I say it applies if we want it to apply, and I very much want that.” He toyed with the waistband of Stede’s underwear, tugging them down slightly. “So let’s try that again. I’m on my knees in front of you, and you’re wearing light blue underwear, so that means…?”

He trailed off and waited for Stede to answer.

Stede panted, doubtful that he could coherently string a proper sentence together. “It means– it means –”

Ed’s lips brushed lightly against the outline of his cock again. “Tell me what it means, baby.”

“Oh god ….” Ed was unravelling him like he was tugging on a loose thread on a jumper, and as Ed’s tongue darted out to lick the damp spot on Stede’s underwear where his pre-come had seeped through, Stede finally cried out. “It means I want you to suck my cock!”

He was squirming desperately against the wall, praying that it was the answer Ed wanted. Had he misremembered the hanky code? He didn’t think so, and even if he had then who the fuck cared, because Ed’s mouth around his cock was what he wanted so badly he couldn’t think straight.

But his answer had been correct and Ed grinned mischievously as he yanked Stede’s underwear down with force, finally freeing his cock from the fabric prison.

And then Ed just stared. “Fucking hell, Stede.”

“What?” Stede’s head tipped down, worry lining his face. “What’s wrong?”

Ed laughed. “I could tell you were big but holy shit, actually seeing it like this is something else.”

“Oh.” Stede’s eyes darted around nervously, unsure of where to look. Ed’s stare remained upon his cock, unmoving.

Stede had never really thought much about his own size, it wasn’t like he’d seen enough cocks to have a wealth of comparison, and when he’d watched pornography in his research it had always been with the thought to take everything with a pinch of salt. He didn’t know much, but he knew porn was fantasy and not reality. And now the reality that his cock might actually be a problem was starting to sink in. “Is it– is it too big? We could, um, we could do something else?”

And now Ed was looking at him again, but his face was nothing but steely determination. “I don’t care if I have to dislocate my jaw, I am getting your cock in my mouth.”

“Edward!” Stede chastised, but it was all he had the chance to say as Ed took his cock in hand and sucked the head of it into his mouth.

And oh wasn’t that something.

So far Stede’s experience of Ed’s tongue had been nothing but pleasurable, and it remained that way now as Ed displayed even more of his talents. His tongue swirled around the head of Stede’s cock and even though he’d only nudged the head past his lips, Stede would have been happy just to keep it there. The way Ed’s tongue flicked over his slit made the blood in Stede’s veins hum like plucked guitar strings and he could have leaned against that wall all night with nothing but the ministrations of Ed’s tongue over the head of his cock to keep him content.

Ed was not so easily satisfied.

Stede felt Ed’s mouth widen around him and Stede’s head tipped down so sharply from where it had been craned back against the wall that he felt a jolt in his neck. He had never seen Ed look so determined as he accepted a little bit more of Stede’s cock into his mouth. Stede battled the desperation to tell Ed he didn’t have to do this. He knew how much it annoyed Ed when he said that, but it was true. He didn’t want Ed to feel like he had to do anything he didn’t want to, but he also had to accept that Ed wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to. And right now it was pretty damn clear that Ed wanted to take Stede’s cock into his mouth.

He moved slowly, sliding Stede’s cock past his lips with slight bobs of his head, taking it a little deeper each time. Feeling that wet heat of Ed’s mouth was blissful torture, and his flattened tongue pressed against the underside of Stede’s cock could only be described as divine . Stede wanted to feel it all, and so as beautiful as the sight of Ed’s lips stretching around his cock was, Stede closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall.

Stede could focus his senses more this way - feel the slight tickle of Ed’s beard hairs brushing against his sensitive skin, luxuriate in the warmth of Ed’s mouth, bask in the sensation of Ed’s soft lips wrapping around his hardness. It was with a groan that Stede’s hips involuntarily jolted forwards and he heard a sudden choked sound.

His eyes snapped open and he moved quickly to extract himself from Ed’s mouth, cupping Ed’s chin to push him back far enough that Stede’s cock fell from his lips. “Fuck, I’m so sorry! It was just a reflex, I didn’t mean to! Are you alright?”

Ed’s voice was a little ragged when he answered, but the man was grinning. “I’m fine, don’t worry. I know I said I wanted you to fuck my face but give me a chance to relax my throat before you try, yeah?”

“Fuuuuuuuck!” Stede whined and covered his face with his hands. His first blowjob from another man - from Ed, no less - and he’d ruined it already by getting overexcited and accidentally choking Ed with his cock. How utterly humiliating.

Ed was chuckling and even in his embarrassment, Stede was listening for signs that he’d hurt him. Oh god, Ed was the lead singer of the band! What if Stede damaged his throat somehow and ruined his perfect singing voice? Ed’s career, the whole tour, everything could be ruined just because Stede was too damn eager. “It’s not funny, Ed! I could have hurt you!”

Ed was on his knees laughing away like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, but the laughter sharply stopped when Stede bent down to start tugging up his underwear from where it pooled around his ankles. All the mirth drained from his face and he looked up with that softened expression of his, so genuinely concerned that it made Stede’s heart hurt. “I’m sorry for laughing, but Stede, it’s ok. These things happen, don’t let it worry you so much.”

“But it does worry me!” Stede tugged his underwear back into place, shuddering as the fabric pressed against his still-hard cock. “I don’t know what I’m doing and I will not risk hurting you, darling, I simply won’t do it.”

Stede expected annoyance from Ed, what he didn’t expect was for those warm brown eyes to widen like Stede had just offered to pull the moon from the sky and wrap it up in a bow for him. “Say that again.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Stede whimpered, but Ed shook his head.

“Not that. What did you call me?”

He paused to think for a moment and then his cheeks flushed red. The endearment had just slipped out so casually, he hadn’t even been thinking about it, but just when he’d thought that he couldn’t humiliate himself more, there it was. Stede should have known better; there were always ways for him to make a fool of himself. “I’m sorry, it just came out.”

Ed’s hands had moved to Stede’s thighs, stroking gently up and down the sides of them. “Stede, did you stop because you wanted to stop, or because you were worried about me?”

“Worried about you, of course!”

“Mhm.” Ed’s head dipped to press a kiss to the inside of his thigh and Stede shivered. “So you liked what I was doing with my mouth?”

It was hard to concentrate on an answer when Ed kept trailing kisses along his inner thigh, pausing every now and then to bite gently and then soothe over the skin with his tongue. “Y-yes.”

“Good.” Ed lifted his head. “I did as well. And I’m perfectly fine, see?”

Stede nodded cautiously and Ed rested his cheek against his thigh. The warm weight of Ed’s head pressed against him went a long way to soothing his frazzled nerves. “So I would very much like to continue with what we were doing, if you would, but I need you to trust me. I will tell you if I need to stop, ok?”

Stede nodded. “Ok.”

“And you will tell me if you need to stop, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And if you feel panicked or unsure about something, you’ll ask me and we’ll talk about it, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Ok then.” Ed’s hands lifted to his underwear and Stede nodded before he could ask for permission. The boxers were tugged down his legs again but this time he stepped out of them and kicked them off to the side. “Now I’m going to swallow your cock and you’re going to come down my throat and call me darling.”

“Ed!” Stede gasped, but he broke into a fit of giggles and Ed joined in. In the pornography he had watched, it had never been like this. It had always been wild fantasies, full of passion, not the stop-start of two people learning each other intimately and discussing it interspersed with laughter to break the awkwardness. Stede had thought he wanted perfection, but this? This was better. This was real.

“I’m only teasing,” Ed smirked and cocked his head. “Well, not really. I do want that, but only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“I’d…” Stede let out a deep breath, pushing the air from his lungs and seeping the tension from his bones. “I’d like to try that. I’ll tell you if it feels too much.”

“I mean it, just let me know and we can pause or stop. Don’t push through for my sake.” Ed’s hands ran over his hips. “Just let me guide you, ok?”

If there was one person he trusted to take care of him right now, it was the man in front of him. “Ok.”

Ed pressed a light kiss to the head of his cock that made Stede hiss. “Now I won’t be able to talk with my mouth full so if I need you to stop then I’ll give you one of these.” He tapped Stede’s leg twice. “Are you ready?”

Ed said he hadn’t been joking about wanting to swallow him down, so Stede pondered if he’d meant that about the endearment as well. He decided to chance it. “Ready when you are, darling.”

Ed’s eyes widened again briefly, and then he was grinning so wide it looked like he could split his face in two. “Oh yes, more of that please.”

Just in case the verbal confirmation wasn’t enough, Ed decided to reward Stede by dragging his tongue along the full length of his cock, from root to tip. He went slowly, most likely trying not to scare Stede by doing too much too soon. Ed’s tongue swirled around the head of his cock again like he was tasting the most delicious lollipop and Stede’s mind briefly strayed to the hard-boiled sweets Ed favoured. Blackcurrant was his favourite flavour and Ed moaned as his mouth closed over the head of Stede’s cock like it was just as sweet.

When Ed slowly began to bob his head to gradually introduce Stede’s length into his mouth, it made him feel just as delirious and overcome as before. But this time Ed’s hands gripped onto his hips and held him in place, preventing Stede from impulsively jerking forwards again without warning. Stede smiled fondly down at him for the gesture. He’d been so silly to panic before. They were still learning each other, slip-ups were to be expected, the important thing was that they’d discussed it and now Ed was aware that it was something Stede might do unintentionally and had acted to keep it under control.

“Thank you, darling.” Stede murmured and Ed made a pleased sound and took more of his cock into his mouth. It seemed like Stede had found a magic word.

Stede could stand there and shout cries of gratitude all night, but he wanted to thank Ed for his patience and lack of judgement another way. He knew how Ed liked his hair played with and so Stede weaved his fingers carefully through the roots of his hair and loosened the tie that kept Ed’s hair up in a messy bun. It could be counter-productive to let Ed’s hair hang loose in his face as he was sucking on Stede’s cock, but he adored the way Ed’s hair shimmered under the light like a moonlit river. Stede could keep it out of Ed’s face for him. He slipped the hair tie onto his wrist then delved his fingers back into Ed’s hair.

He started with the scalp, massaging it in slow circles as Ed moaned around his cock. He hadn’t taken the full length yet like he had been so determined to do before, but Stede had no complaints. The slick slide of Ed’s mouth drawing back and forth was more than enough. He alternated between long, slow drags where he pulled back so only the head remained between his lips and short, fast bobbing motions that made Stede’s hands curl into fists around the silvery strands of Ed’s hair.

He’d closed his eyes before but now Stede wanted to look. He swept back the hair that had fallen in front of Ed’s face and was treated to the most simultaneously heavenly and obscene sight of Ed’s mouth stretching around him. “Oh, Ed…” Stede felt like he’d been struck right through the heart with Cupid’s arrow. “You look so beautiful, darling.”

Ed’s eyes were positively glowing as he gazed up at Stede, and even though he couldn’t talk, the appreciative sounds he was making clued Stede in to what he was enjoying. “Do you like it when I talk to you like this, Ed?”

Another appreciative moan and Stede beamed. No one liked hearing him talk, least of all during sex. Stede recalled one particular instance with Mary where she had told him to just shut up and get on with it and he’d spent the rest of the night feeling like a complete fool.

“I mean it, you really are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” Stede purred. “Your eyes alone – fuck – you could make me do anything you wanted just by batting your eyes at me.”

He felt the vibration of Ed’s laughter around his cock and then right on cue, Ed batted his eyes and let those dark lashes flutter and Stede melted. “Yes, darling? What do you want from me?”

Ed lifted one hand from where it pinned Stede’s hips in place to rest atop his own head, where he made a show of tugging at his hair.

“You want me to pull your hair?”

Ed hummed enthusiastically around Stede’s cock and returned the hand to his hip.

Stede swept more of Ed’s hair back from his face so he grasped a decent-sized chunk of it, his fingers curling experimentally into a tighter hold. “You’ll give me a double tap if I pull too hard, right?”

Ed bobbed his head but Stede wasn’t sure if that was an answer or not until Ed lifted a hand from his hip and gave him a thumbs up. It was so silly, so ridiculously endearing that Stede couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright then, so long as we’re on the same page.”

He started out with a light tug on Ed’s hair that got him a pleased-sounding moan, which in turn made Stede grow bolder, and the next time Ed slowed his pace to one of those long, slow drags, Stede gripped hold of the silvery tresses and tugged hard.

Ed made a muffled noise that could have been a cry of pain to Stede’s ears, but no double tap came. Instead, Ed sank down and took Stede’s entire length into his mouth.

“Goodness gracious!” Stede cried out and his hand fisted tightly in Ed’s hair because, christ , he had to hold onto something .

He felt his cock bump against the back of Ed’s throat, but Ed seemed completely relaxed about the matter. The little devil had been planning this all along, he’d just been waiting for the right moment. Ed’s hands pressed firmly into Stede’s hips, practically pinning him against the wall like he knew how desperate he was for Stede to start thrusting forwards.

Ed pulled back slightly, but he still kept an impressive amount of Stede’s cock in his mouth as he began to suck on him again, and now Stede really did need Ed’s hands to pin him in place more than ever because he was writhing against the wall. “Ed, oh my god!”

He took it as encouragement and worked his mouth faster, pausing every now and then to swallow Stede’s length and let him bump the back of his throat again before resuming. “Ed…” Stede gasped, and he gripped at Ed’s hair like it was his only lifeline in a stormy sea of pleasure, and a wave was about to break over his head. “Oh fuck – Ed, I’m gonna come. I-I can’t last, you’re too - god - y-you’re so –” His attempts at compliments were cut off by his own keening moans, but at least he had warned Ed of how close he was.

He thought Ed might release him, but he only winked and increased his speed even more, licking and sucking at Stede’s cock as if he could suck the very soul out of him. Stede doubted that was possible, but if anyone could manage, it would be Ed.

He could feel heat coiling in his stomach and knew his end was only moments away. He made another feeble attempt to warn Ed, but then Ed’s earlier words came back to him like a bolt of lightning piercing his soul.

“Now I’m going to swallow your cock and you’re going to come down my throat and call me darling.”

They had accomplished two out of three of Ed’s goals and Stede looked down in astonishment at Ed’s face to see if he was serious about the third one, only to see that flash of mischief in Ed’s eyes and Stede knew then that he was a goner.

He’d been convinced that morning alone in Ed’s shower that he could never come harder.

He was wrong.

Stede came in Ed’s mouth with an intensity that set his soul alight and the only thing his brain could remember was to allow repeated cries of ‘darling ’ as the last thing Stede remembered was that Ed wanted him to call him that. He could think of nothing else as his climax was pulled from him, especially not as Ed kept sucking and moaning as he swallowed, like it was the best thing to ever happen to him.

By the time Ed’s mouth finally released him, Stede was shaking and boneless. As soon as Ed’s hands left his hips, Stede sank down onto his knees in front of the other man, who had a very pleased and smug smile on his face. “Well,” Ed began. “How was–”

He didn’t get a chance to finish as Stede tackled him backwards to the floor. Ed only had time to release a laugh of “Stede, I just–” and then Stede was attacking his mouth. It was the fastest and most effective way to express his gratitude and he could taste himself in Ed’s mouth as he licked into it. That had probably been what Ed was trying to warn him of, but he didn’t care.

Stede straddled Ed’s lap as he deepened the kiss and hummed excitedly as he felt a delightful hardness pressing against him through Ed’s jeans. He broke their kiss to immediately slide down Ed’s body so his hands had access to the button of his jeans.

“Stede, fucking hell…” Ed groaned as Stede made quick work of getting his jeans undone and started tugging them down Ed’s hips. “Hold on a second.”

Stede stopped and immediately clutched his own hands to his chest so he wouldn’t be tempted to keep touching Ed. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Ed laughed and propped himself up on his elbows. “I just can’t believe how eager you are, you horny little devil.”

“You’re one to talk,” Stede giggled. “I’m still seeing stars.”

Ed balanced his weight on one arm and used the other to crook his finger at Stede, beckoning him closer. “Come here.”

Ed’s voice was low and sultry and called to Stede like a siren. He was powerless to do anything but follow Ed’s command and lean in until Ed’s fingers caught him under the chin and pulled him into a long, searing kiss that burned with the heat of the sun and made Stede feel like the most desired man in the world.

“Mm,” Ed purred when they broke apart. “Love the enthusiasm, baby, but I just wanted you to understand that this doesn’t have to be tit-for-tat. There’s no need to get me off just because I did it for you.”

“But I want to.” Stede whined, and tried to recapture Ed’s lips only for the other man to pull back. “Please, Ed. I want you to come on my face like you talked about over the phone.”

At that, Ed’s arm buckled and he went crashing down to the floor, taking Stede with him. Stede had no issue being sprawled atop Ed and bent his head to nuzzle Ed’s face through his beard. “Fucking hell,” Ed panted. “What have I unleashed?”

Stede giggled again and shifted so he could lay his head against Ed’s chest and hear the thumping of his heart beneath his ear. “You’ve only yourself to blame. I’m a master of restraint for holding back for so long, but the dam has burst now, darling.”

“You insatiable little minx.” Ed chuckled and curled his arm around Stede’s waist to anchor their bodies together. His thumb traced patterns in the small of Stede’s back and he sighed happily. “Dinner first. I’m ravenous.”

Stede lifted his head and raised a hopeful eyebrow. Ed laughed again. “Ravenous for dinner and for you, baby. But food first since I think I’ll need the energy.”

“I’m not leaving this room.” Stede pouted.

“Good, because I’m not letting you get dressed.” Ed’s hand tapped playfully against Stede’s bare ass. Not hard enough to spank him properly, although the thought of it made Stede squirm. That was something he’d have to bring up later. “We’ll order room service.”

First Post

#edactuallysmau

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earlgreydream · 3 years

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cozy.

| draco x reader x theo | smut | fluff |

anon requested. Draco x reader x Theo smut

The fire in the hearth crackled nearby, offering warmth in the common room made of marble and glass. You knelt on a satin pillow, curled up between the legs of your lover. Your head rested against the inside of Draco’s thigh, your back against the chair he was perched in. You felt safe at his feet, leaning into the touch of his hand in your hair.

Your friends were all piled on the couches and on the floor around the coffee table, all fighting for a seat near the warm fire. You were wrapped in one of Theo’s knitted quidditch sweaters, his body above yours, draped over the arm of Draco’s chair.

You let your mind wander, tuning out of the conversation about where everyone was spending Christmas. You were almost asleep, lulled into drowsiness by Draco’s fingers carding through your hair.

“Y/N, love. Pansy asked you a question,” Draco hummed, his fingers brushing over your cheek.

“Hm?” You hummed, struggling to open your eyes.

“I asked if you were still awake,” she teased, and you yawned, hoping you could continue leaning on Draco without being disturbed.

“Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Theo’s voice broke through your sleepy haze, and you held your arms out, too tired to really open your eyes or stand up. Draco laughed gently, and Theo bent down to pick you up.

“Draco?” You mumbled, your arms draping over Theo’s back.

“I’m going to stay down here a bit longer. I’ll be up later,” Draco kissed the back of your hand before letting Theo carry you to the dorms.

“I want to go to your bed.”

“My bed?” he teased, kissing your cheeks. You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.

He carried you to Draco’s prefect dorm, the large, private room where the three of you often slept.

Theo gently set you down on the edge of the bed, stepping into the ensuite and returning with a washcloth. You scrunched your face as he cleaned your makeup off gently, holding your jaw in his hand. You relaxed, letting him wash your makeup off, appreciating that he was doing it for you.

Theo loved to dote on you. He was gentle and sweet, and enjoyed caring for you and showering you with attention. It extended to Draco, too, who basked in the brunette’s affections.

You slipped off your jeans and crawled under the covers as soon as Theo was finished with your face. He smiled at you when he returned, amused by how cuddly you got when you were tired.

“I want Draco,” you murmured, reaching out to his side of the empty bed.

“What am I to you, then?”

“I already have you here with me,” you pulled him into a kiss, feeling him smile against your lips.

Theo changed into joggers before sliding in bed with you. You moved to lay on top of him, wrapping your body around his. His hands moved to rest on your backside, gently brushing his thumbs over your skin.

Theo felt your breathing deepen as you fell asleep, curling up tighter into him. He kissed your head, listening to your soft sighs as you exhaled.

You were warm, like a little heater curled up on his chest. You snuggled deeper into the sweater as you slept, seeming to bury into the coziness. He pulled the duvet up higher over your back, and you relaxed, your fingers resting on his chest.

Theo looked up when the door opened later, Draco slipping inside. He smiled at the two of you, his two favorite people. Draco walked over, setting his hand on Theo’s shoulder and kissing him firmly.

“I love you,” Theo whispered, and Draco nodded, saying it back.

He brushed hair from your face, leaning down and kissing your temple. He sat beside the two of you for a while, murmuring softly with Theo about plans for the weekend before finally getting ready for bed.

They were careful not to disturb you, and Draco slid under the duvet, settling against Theo’s side. Theo removed an arm from you to wrap around Draco, playing with his silvery hair until they fell asleep.

You woke up between the boys, all three of you half-asleep. You stirred and realized both of your boyfriends were hard.

“Hey, hey,” Theo murmured, grabbing your hip as you ground back against him.

You rolled over and wrapped your arm around his neck, dragging the boy into a heavy kiss. Your fingers trailed over his defined abs, below his waistband. He moaned into your mouth, weakly bucking his hips into your hand as you stroked him. He was heavy in your fingers, his skin soft like velvet. The feeling was making arousal soak through your panties, smearing on the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Theo moaned before pushing his tongue into your mouth, deepening your kiss.

“Watching you two go at it is making me horny,” Draco murmured against your neck. He pushed his sweats down and began to grind against your ass, making you gasp. He hooked his fingers in the lace that barely covered you, pulling it aside.

“Keep touching Theo, baby,” Draco encouraged, pulling your leg over his to give him better access before he carefully pushed the tip inside of you. You stuttered for a moment before sliding your thumb over Theo’s tip, making him whine. Draco decided to tease you, a hint of sadism breaking through your early-morning softness. His thrusts were shallow at first, just barely entering you, edging your entrance.

“Draco, please fuck me,” you cried, trying to squirm back to take more of him in.

“I am, baby,” he feigned innocence, amusement sparkling in his starry eyes.

“N-no, you’re teasing me. Please, I want all of you!”

Draco gave you what you wanted all at once, his entire body connecting with yours. You arched your back off of Draco’s chest, ecstasy consuming you as the ridges of his cock dragged against your walls. Draco’s hips thrusted forward, burying himself as deep as possible inside of you. Your head dropped back on his shoulder, your vision blurring as his fingers rubbed circles on your clit.

“Come for me, Theo,” you begged sweetly, feeling him twitch in your hand.

His hand went to the back of your head, dragging you into another kiss as he came. His hips stuttered as he released in your hand, making a mess of his joggers.

“You’re taking Draco’s cock so well, sweetheart. You look so pretty getting fucked like this in my sweater,” Theo praised you, laying his hand on the space between your hips.

“He’s so big, I can feel him in your belly, stretching you out. I bet you’re so tight, squeezing the life out of him,” Theo’s words made Draco fuck you harder, chasing the relief he craved.

Theo kissed you, his hands slipping under your sweater to gently fondle your tits. He lazily rocked into your hand, still-half hard from the erotic sight of you being railed by Draco.

“I’m so close, fucking hell,” Draco swore, pulling your hips back to meet his as he wrapped his body around yours. The pressure building up inside of him exploded, and soon he was filling your pussy with hot white ribbons, buried all the way inside of you. You cried out against Theo’s lips at the sensation, overwhelmed from feeling so full.

Draco’s torture on your clit didn’t cease, and soon you were tumbling over the edge, throbbing tightly around Draco as you came with a shudder. Your orgasm washed through you in waves, drawing out your euphoria until you were shaking.

You winced as Draco pulled out of you, moving your panties back in place, keeping your releases inside of you. Some of it seeped through the lace, making you feel even more lewd. Draco swore at the sight, gathering it on his fingers before tasting you, making your cheeks burn. You hid your face in Theo, who lovingly stroked your hair.

Peacefulness settled back over the room, and your mind and body softened, leftover endorphins simmering and making you relaxed.

Both boys admired you, whispering soft praises about how lovely you were and how amazing you treated them. They adored you, showering you with affection and making sure you knew how terribly loved you were.

The boys let you rest for a few moments, catching your breath and letting the high wear off. You felt a bit dazed as you opened your eyes, gazing up at the two gorgeous boys on either side of you.

“We gotta shower, sweetheart. We’re all filthy. Your hand is messy and your pussy is spilling all over the place,” Theo kindly teased, cupping you between your legs and making you shudder and lean back into Draco.

“Sensitive, love?” Draco asked, leading you toward the shower.

“A little,” you confessed, your steps unsteady from the force of Draco fucking you. Theo helped you out if your clothes and tossed them aside, opening the glass door.

Steam rose from the shower and you welcomed the hot water as you moved under the stream. It washed away the filth from your body, and you leaned back into Theo’s chest so he could properly cleanse you.

He squeezed vanilla soap into his hands before rubbing and massaging it into your body, the sweet scent wafting around you. You let him turn you so he could wash your back, and Draco kissed your shoulder. You faded from reality as they washed themselves, your mind wandering to your warm bed that you desperately wished to get back to.

It took some convincing to get you to let them wash your hair. You reminded them to be careful of your tangles, and they promised to be gentle.

“Baby, did I hurt you?” Draco’s worried voice broke you out of your dreamy thoughts.

You looked down and saw the bruise on your hip, matching up with his hand. Theo tensed, his fingertips brushing softly over your marked skin. He hated to see you with any sign of injury, wanting to protect you.

“No, not at all,” you promised Draco, giving him a reassuring kiss. The boys exchanged a silent look, and Draco knew he was in for it later, bound to receive a lecture from Theo about being careful with you.

Draco guided your head under the water, rising the soap from your hair before shutting it off. You squeezed the water out of your hair, hesitating to leave the warm shower.

You shivered, goosebumps breaking out over your skin as you stepped into the cold air. Theo noticed, wrapping you in a towel. You giggled as he playfully rubbed you through it, tickling your sides and dragging you against his chest.

“It’s so cold! I want to go back to bed,” you complained, trying to make your way back to the magically cleaned sheets.

“Let’s get breakfast first, then go to Hogsmeade with everyone,” Draco suggested, and you sighed, unable to deny the attractiveness of the idea.

You slipped into fur-lined leggings and a warm sweater, pulling wool socks onto your feet to go inside of your boots.

Two cardamom buns and a cup of coffee later, you were braving the icy temperatures in order to go shopping and get some butterbeer.

You walked between them, holding each of their hands as you popped in and out of shops, chattering excitedly with your friends.

Giggles erupted from you as both boys kissed your cheeks, making you squeal with delight as you entered a pub for some butterbeer. You slid into a booth, closed in between their bodies, deciding there was nowhere else you’d rather be than with them.

part 2: cozy (2).

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ticklishtimothee · 3 years

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our final night alive (simon kalivoda x reader)

summary: the reader and simon are in the bathroom together before it all goes down. and hey, since all their friends are going to “pound-town” as simon would call it, why shouldn’t they?

a/n: i just watched fear street 1994 on netflix and totally fell in love with simon, so i wrote this. i promise i’m working on the requests in my inbox as well, i just had to get this idea out while it was fresh.

words: 1,740

While Kate and Josh go into the girl’s bathroom, you and Simon figure it’s best to leave them alone. So, you follow Simon into the boy’s room, the clothes you’d snatched from the lost and found clutched tightly in your hands.

“Hey, I’ll trade you this Iron Maiden t-shirt for the cardigan,” Simon grins.

“You want to wear this thing?” you ask, raising a brow and holding up the blue knitted nightmare in your hands. You can already tell how itchy the fabric would be against your skin.

Simon nods. “I think it would really accentuate my shoulders. I’ve been told they’re my best feature,” he says, winking.

“Whoever told you that was a liar,” you reply, but toss him the cardigan anyway.

He catches it easily, then tosses you the t-shirt in return.

He wastes no time in pulling the white t-shirt over his head, and you’re thankful to see it gone. It was bad enough that he’d been wearing it for all that time, regardless of the blood stains. You avert your eyes as he strips off his jeans as well.

“Nice tighty-whities,” you mutter.

Simon snorts. “Sorry for putting practicality over fashion.”

“Says the guy putting on a girl’s cardigan to fight monsters.”

“Touché.”

You turn to face the wall, pulling your own shirt over your head, checking your torso quickly for any traces of blood. Finding none, you pull the new t-shirt on.

Out of the corner of your eye, you realize Simon still isn’t making an effort to get dressed. Instead, he’s checking himself out in the mirror, and you can’t tell if he’s goofing off or actually looking for any stains to wash off of his skin.

“You have some blood on your back,” you tell him. “Can’t tell if it’s Sam’s or yours, but better safe than sorry.”

Simon looks in the mirror, tilting his head to catch a glimpse, and furrows his brows. “I don’t see it. Help me out?”

You grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them under the sink. “Turn around.”

He does so, and you find the blood in question and wipe it off.

He jumps under the touch. “You couldn’t have used warm water?” he asks, difficult as always.

“I could let this sink run for five minutes and it’d be warm at best,” you reply. “You think this place has the budget for hot water?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

There’s a pause, and you’re still standing behind him, your eyes scanning over the pale expanse of his back, taking in each freckle. His shoulders were pretty nice, actually.

“You know you’ve gotta change your pants, too,” he says.

“Oh, right,” you say, cheeks burning. You go back to the pile of your things. When you look up, he’s watching you. “Am I allowed a little privacy?” you ask.

He smiles. “You could go into the stall.”

You roll your eyes. “Or you could turn around and not be a pervert.”

“Hey, you already saw me in my underwear,” he points out.

You scowl at him, then hook your thumbs into the waist of your pants and pull them down in a quick, fluid motion. You toe off your shoes to take them off entirely, leaving them on the tiled floor. “Happy?” you ask.

His smile fades. “What happened to your thigh?”

You look down and see the injury he’s referring to. Honestly, you’d been so caught up in everything going on, you’d barely noticed the shallow gash in your skin, but now that it was brought to the forefront of your mind, the dull ache began to settle.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “I guess one of those psychos grazed me.”

Simon takes another wad of paper towels. “May I?” he asks.

You nod, and he dampens them under the faucet. “Come put your leg up to the sink.”

You do as he says, wincing at the first contact he makes with it.

“Sorry,” he practically whispers. “I don’t have anything to bandage it up with, but the least we can do is get it clean, okay?”

“Okay.”

His face is close to your bare leg, making goosebumps rise where his nose and lips brush the skin. He’s gentle with you, one hand holding your leg steady while the other dabs at the wound tenderly, and you watch as the red mess slowly begins to clear up, leaving the wound still open but no longer bleeding.

“There, that should be better,” he says. “When we find the others, maybe they’ll have something to patch you up with.”

“Thanks.”

You place both feet back on the ground, standing before Simon, both partially undressed (him more than you) and trying to hide the feelings of terror in both of your chests.

“Do you think Deena and Sam are gonna make up?” you ask. “Oh, I think they’re probably fucking as we speak,” he replies.

You give him a light smack to the back of his head. “You’ve got such a dirty mind.”

“I’m serious! Kate and Josh are probably doing it, too. The whole last-night-on-earth thing gets people horny, don’t you know?”

“Oh, so we’re all gonna be killed by some freaks, so we should be banging?” you ask.

“Are you asking in general, or about us?”

You pause. “Both.”

His cheeks flush pink, and you swear it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him embarrassed. “In general, yeah, I think it’s human instinct to seek out some pleasure before the end. As for us, well...If you’re down, I’m down.”

You stare at him for a second. “Really?”

“Only if you want to, I mean—”

You grab him by the shoulders and kiss him, effectively cutting off his rambling.

In no time, he’s pushed your back against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom, kissing you back fevertently. You thread your fingers through his blond curls, and he sighs against your lips.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, breathless.

You nod, and he brings a hand between your legs, fingers running over your underwear teasing, making you shiver.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Yes,” you reply.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says, unable to meet your eye. “But I have a pretty good idea of what to do.”

“Me either,” you tell him. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

He nods and pulls you in for another kiss, this time rubbing you through your panties. You whine softly into his mouth.

“Does that feel good?”

“Try doing it a little gentler—oh, yes, like that…”

You can feel his hard cock against your belly as he reaches his hand down the front of your underwear. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine.”

Carefully, he finds your hole and presses one finger inside, making you clench nervously at first.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Try to relax for me,” he all but coos in your ear, and you do so.

He lets his finger slowly curl and uncurl inside you, stretching you out.

“Do you want to…?” you ask.

“I don’t have a condom,” he says, knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

“Well, if you get me pregnant, we’ll probably be dead before it’s even got arms and legs.”

He chuckles, and you appreciate that he’s able to find humor in the fucked up things, just like you.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He yanks down his underwear, and while you’d teased him about it before, the tight, white fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. Simon wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up, bringing you over to the sink and sitting you down on the brim of it.

“There’s no way this thing is gonna hold us,” you say.

“If we break it, we’ll be dead before they make us pay for the damages,” he replies, and you laugh.

He makes quick work of pulling your panties down, and they fall to the floor as he parts your knees. “Please tell me if I hurt you,” he says. “I want it to feel good.”

You nod. “I promise.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing his hips forward. He misses the first time, sort of poking the head of his cock into the crease of your thigh, and you both chuckle awkwardly at the mishap. The second time, he gets closer, but his cock slides upward and between your folds, making your legs jerk in surprise.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

The third time, he succeeds, and the initial stretch of his head entering you makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Should I stay still for a sec? Let you adjust?”

You nod, and so he does.

“You can move now.”

Slowly, he rocks his hips forward, and you manage to take more of him. Without you asking, he waits again, letting you get used to the feeling.

Your nails dig into his back. “You can go, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Simon, I’m sure,” you reply.

“Alright, I’m just double-checking!”

He fucks you carefully, his own movements a bit robotic at first, but when you pull him close to lock your lips together once again, he falls into a rhythm, and your ass hurts from sitting on the stupid sink, but he feels so good, his hot breath tickling your neck as he fucks you.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I’m already—”

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. You can come, just try to pull out,” you say.

He nods, and you can see him scrunching up his face, trying to gain some control and keep from cumming. It doesn’t make him last much longer, and he pulls out just in time, and you scoot to the side in a hurry, his come landing in the basin of the sink.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I can try to finger you again, or something.”

You laugh. “Simon, it’s fine. Some dudes would have come just from seeing me in my underwear. It’s fine.”

He nods, and his forehead is slightly sweaty, hair sticking to it, and his cheeks are flushed.

“I feel bad if you die and I didn’t give you an orgasm,” he says.

“Well then let’s both try our hardest not to die, and you can give me one another time. Deal?”

He grins. “Deal.”

#simon kalivoda #simon kalivoda x reader #fear street 1994 #fear street #simon fear street #fear street netflix #horror movie imagine #horror movie reader insert #horror movies #horror reader insert

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rere-the-writer · 3 years

Text

Title- Mikaelsons and a baby

A part two to this ask

Part three

Part four - coming soon

Pairings: Poly!Mikaelson x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Soft!Mikaelsons, Just a little bit of angst, Klaus and Kol threating people

You sat with Rebekah trying to distract yourself from not worrying about Davina as lately the young witch hadn't been feeling well lately. You looked up seeing Hayley leaving with Sophie and thought nothing of it.

"Hey Beka?"

"Yes, beautiful?" Rebekah questioned looking over at you seeing that you were knitting you fourth scarf.

"Is Davina okay? Marcel was asking about her earlier." You asked Rebekah watching drop her book worry came across her face.

"Also it is probably nothing but I over heard Sophie talking to Nik about completing the Harvest." You answered Rebekah startled when she suddenly stood up.

"I need to find Elijah." Rebekah said leaving making you worry as it was never good if Elijah needed to know and decided to find Kol since you were still mad at Klaus when learned what he did to Davina.

"Kol? What are you doing?" You asked him finding him in your bedroom trying do something.

"Putting the crib together." Kol said smiling up at you as you giggled seeing that it was looking more like a hot mess than a crib.

"Babe, that doesn't look like a crib." You giggle sitting next to Kol as he placed his hand on your baby bump.

"Well right now it doesn't but it will be."

"Need any hel......" You were cut off when the room shook and Kol quickly grabbed you protecting you as things fell from the wall.

"What was that?"

"Davina. She can't control all that magic she has." Kol says walking out of the room with you following worried as you mothered the girl as Kol would tease. You followed Kol but paused seeing Hayley with Elijah and as much as you knew to follow Kol. You were curious what they were talking about.

"Elijah, I have something to tell you." You heard Hayley say as you peeked around the corner knowing Elijah most likely knew that you were there.

"What is it Hayley?"

"Sophie called asking for a favor and at first I thought it was about the baby as Sophie promised me that she would help break the curse," Hayley says as she walked ahead of Elijah as he narrowed his eyes, "that Marcel put on my people for information. I didn't think nothing of it but Davina started doing those pictures of Celeste."

"Hayley, what did you do? It have better not put Y/N and the baby in danger." Elijah said walking up to the werewolf as you swallowed a bad feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

"Sophie wanted to find Celeste's remains so I asked Y/N and went though your journals to find out where you buried her the told Sophie," Hayley tells Elijah sounding hurt as you felt sick and guilty as Elijah told you in confidence, "I know it was snoopy and I should have just asked you."

"Celeste wanted to be left in peace. When a witch's remains are consecrated, that power fuels the rest of their community." Elijah tells Hayley hurt lacing his voice while guilt ate away at you. Hayley looked down feeling terrible as Elijah walked up to her.

"She did not want to be found, she made me promise to make sure she couldn't. Not only did you violated my privacy but you have broken my promise to her."

"I thought they were just bones Elijah."

"If you truly believed that, why didn't you ask me where to find her instead of using Y/N and looked though my journals." Elijah said walking pass Hayley going to chase after you hearing you walking off.

"Baby, Y/N. Wait a minute." Elijah says gently grabbing your arm and cupped your cheek wiping away your tears.

"Why are you upset?"

"Because I helped Hayley break your promise. I know how much they mean to you." You tell Elijah as he smiled softly pulling you into a hug.

"You are too sweet baby. I am not mad at you for you couldn't have known her little plan."

"But still Elijah." You mumble against his chest as Elijah kissed your head when you hugged him. It wasn't hard to see Elijah was angry at Hayley as Kol and Rebekah could tell but Klaus wasn't surprised as you finally forgave him and told him everything.

"Elijah can we talk?"

"Just on my out." Elijah said holding your hand taking you with him for the day as Klaus followed teasing Elijah.

"You don't have to be here. You also didn't need to bring Y/N, it'll take Sophie some time to prepare the consecration."

"I have nothing but time and Y/N needs time out of the Abattoir. I owe Celeste this much." Elijah says watching you stand at the grave flowers in hand as you told Elijah you wanted to pay respects to the dead witch.

"Care to elaborate?" Sabine asked walking up to Elijah as he looked at her then back at you with a soft look in his eyes.

"Ever experience something so profoundly wonderful that when it was taken from you. Your life felt unbearable?"

"Yeah I've felt that. I have scars to prove it." Sabine says noticing how Elijah watched you as if you were the only woman in the world.

"I believe when you love someone like I had Celeste, they leave you uniquely vulnerable. Y/N has the power to hurt me like no other."

"You really love that woman don't you?" Sabine asked looking at you also as Elijah took out a handkerchief.

"I do." Elijah says walking up to noticing a tear rolling down your cheek wiping it away. Learning that Marcel took Davina to protect her from the Harvest left a hollowed feeling in your chest.

"You okay there?" You heard Sabine ask as you left at the Abattoir as the family went looking for Davina and Marcel.

"Yeah.....I....just...it's nothing."

"You can tell me." Sabine says sitting next to you as you sighed rubbing your bump.

"I feel bad for Elijah. I understand Hayley wants to help her people but it made Elijah break his promise to Celeste."

"You knew were she was buried."

"Yeah....I asked wanting to pay respects to the woman that got to love Elijah before me."

"You are adorably dumb."

"So Nik and Kol tells me." You tell her with a bright smile as Sabine could see what the Mikaelsons saw in you. You had a softness to you that drew people in, that made them comfortable.

"Where is Hayley?"

"Hanging out with her wolves." You answered Sabine watching her pull out a pendant of some kind.

"Wanna know the sex of the baby?" Sabine asked you watching you light up nodding.

"We found Davina." Kol says sitting next to you seeing you playing a card game with Sabine. You paused looking at Kol as that hollow feeling returned.

"Oh." You said in a quiet voice which Kol picked up something was wrong with you and made a note to ask you later about it. Rain poured as you stood next to Kol with Elijah holding an umbrella over you as you all watch Sophie complete the Harvest.

"It didn't work." Hayley whispered as the witches didn't wake up as the rain stopped. You bit your lip tears falling seeing Sophie cry over her dead niece.

"Shhh darling. It's okay." Kol muttered softly hugging you as you cried Elijah felt his heart break hearing your sons.

"Rebekah, you and Kol take Y/N home while Niklaus and I take care of this."

"Come babe. We'll get you and get some tea." Rebekah says as you nodded walking with her and Kol.

Bad juju is what your grandmother would say when ever you would get a hollow feeling. For the last few days witch bad juju was running a muck as Klaus and Rebekah was missing while Kol had to save Hayley and a wolf you learned named Jackson.

"Baby?" Elijah questioned finding you sitting in Klaus's art studio dress in one of Klaus's shirts as non of Rebekah's clothes couldn't fit you anymore.

"I miss them 'Lijah." You tell him as he sits next to you kissing your head.

"We'll find them baby." Elijah tells you as you nodded. It was weird to you hanging around Hayley as you had been noticing how she would look at Elijah. You hadn't noticed until Celeste pointed it out after you learned she was controlling your new witch friend.

"You're a lot cuter than what Hayley told me about you." You heard Jackson say making your cheeks warm up looking up at the werewolf.

"Well I could say something nice about you but Hayley barely said a word about you."

"So why are you out here with Hayley?" Jackson asked sitting next to you.

"Hayley's idea. She told Elijah that it would be safer for me until they find Nik and Beka."

"I see. What are you having?"

"A girl." You tell him with a smile as you two talked.

"You let Hayley take my unborn child and Queen out in a swamp."

"Firstly it's a bayou Niklaus and second it was to keep her safe from Celeste." Elijah tells Klaus helping Rebekah over a log while Kol was ahead with Klaus. After a long night in a graveyard airing out centuries of problems, the Originals were inching to have you near them again.

"She is going to upset that Sabine is dead." Rebekah said knowing that you grew close to the witch

"Yes, we should tell her later." Elijah says as Hayley met up with them to which Klaus and Kol noticed right away that Hayley moved next to Elijah.

"Hayley have you and the wolves been taking care of Y/N?" Klaus questioned there was a dangerous under tone to Klaus's voice. Hayley looped her arm around Elijah's nodding as Elijah raised an eyebrow but pushed it aside.

When they reached the wolf pack, they heard your sweet laugh and saw you standing in front of what looked like a work bench. Jackson stood behind you gently holding your hands showing you how to drill.

"Hayley who is that touching my wife." Rebekah asked lowly as Hayley looked at her seeing the blonde vampire glaring. Hayley looked at the other three jumping when she heard them growling also glaring.

"That's Jackson. Y/N and him has been getting close."

"You have told him who she belongs to yes?"

"I though her being pregnant was a clear enough sign." Hayley told Klaus not caring for his glare. Rebekah got your attention easily something her and the boys was always proud of.

"Beka!" You cried moving from Jackson throwing yourself into her arms as she held you. Hayley walked up with boys seeing you peppered Rebekah with kisses.

"Nik! You're okay!" You squealed happily giving the hybrid the same treatment as Jackson watched happy for you.

"Oh guys meet Jackson, Hayley's fiancee." You said smiling making the Originals blink confused while Hayley stared at you. While they weren't looking you gave Hayley a mischievous smirk knowing just what you were doing surprising the wolf.

"Fiancee?"

"Yeah. Some old wolf thing." Hayley answered Elijah waving her dismissively while you put on the most innocent look getting Elijah's attention. Both Klaus and Kol knew what you were doing while Elijah had no clue.

"Eli don't you think that maybe we can help Jackson move closer to Hayley or maybe help set up a cabin. So that Jackson isn't away from fiancee?"

Klaus and Kol was smirking as Rebekah stood next to quietly laughing behind her hand. They knew when you were jealous as you would get mischievous and since Hayley seemly liked Elijah, you were going to nip it in the bud.

"You're right baby. Hayley you should be getting to know Jackson and getting the pack together if you want them at faction meetings."

"Right.....Elijah or everything is fine just the way it is."

"But Hayley, 'Lijah right. If you want wolves in on the meetings it best you and Jackson unite the wolves." You tell her pressing closer to Elijah who smiled at you unaware of what you did.

"I'll even help little wolf." Klaus said throwing gas on the fire while Jackson smiled also unaware of what little plan you did.

"Okay." Hayley said sighing as you grinned feeling Elijah kissing your head telling Jackson that they needed to get you home.

"You little minx." Klaus teased sitting on the couch pulling you into his lap.

"I don't know what you are talking about." You tell him faking innocence as Kol joined you both laying his head on your belly listening to the baby.

"Don't worry darling it's our little secret." Kol tells you smiling kissing your belly as you just hummed relaxing enjoying the peace and quiet while it lasted.

#rere's stories #mikaelson family x reader #mikaelsons x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #the originals x reader

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bensolosbluesaber · 3 years

Text

Returning a Favor (Zemo x Reader fic)

TFATWS Ep. 4 Spoilers!!

Summary: When your old friend, Sam Wilson, needs your help in Riga you drop everything and go. You knew they broke Baron Helmut Zemo out of jail, but you didn't expect to bond with the villain. (AKA: I thought getting hit in the face by the Shield would at least leave a bruise. Here's how that would go down with a fourth person.)

CW: Blood, wounds, some creepy behavior (not from Zemo), a few Y/N inserts

No smut yet, just cute cuddles and taking care of each other. Maybe smut in the future though! Let me know if you want a Part 2 or added to a tag list for potential future fics! I think the reader can be any gender; I tried to write it that way and be inclusive, but please tell me if I messed up!

If you know me in real life, no you don't:) I write most of my fics on @aurora521 and write on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the same name. Please don't come for me about finding Zemo attractive.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Returning a Favor

Meet me in Riga. -S

That was the text you received from Sam Wilson, your old military friend, yesterday. And now here you are, outside the Riga airport walking toward Sam in traditional undercover superhero attire- a baseball hat and sunglasses.

“Thanks for coming,” he greeted. “We have a little problem.”

“Is his name Baron Helmut Zemo by chance?” You asked, following him to a jet black sports car.

You were very aware of just what type of trouble Sam was getting himself into since you, a SWORD agent, still had access to all kinds of classified information.

“See for yourself,” Sam muttered, gesturing to the back door of the car and climbing in the driver's seat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, then opened the door and slid into the back. And yes, Zemo was there, lounging back with legs spread. He’s wearing a long coat with fur lining, a deep purple shirt, black pants, and shiny leather shoes. He nods to you and smirks ever so slightly. Bucky Barnes, who you had only heard about but recognized immediately, turns from his spot in the front seat and smiles at you.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N,” he says.

“And I you,” you respond.

Sam pulls out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. The ride is mostly silent, Sam and Bucky bickering occasionally. That made you smile, knowing that as much as Bucky annoyed Sam, this was the type of relationship he craved. Zemo watched you the entire drive, sizing you up.

The home they’re staying at is obviously the Baron's. He’s comfortable there, leaning against the counters, rifling through cabinets, lounging on the couch.

“So what am I doing here?” You finally asked.

The three men interact easily, and either Sam or Bucky is always watching Zemo. There’s no real need for a fourth person to get involved, at least not in your mind.

“Someone needs to babysit the Baron,” Sam explained with an annoyed sigh.

Zemo shrugged with a smirk so innocent it’s sinister. He’s still wearing that ridiculous coat.

“The two Avengers can’t handle him?”

“I believe your friends find it challenging to be around me,” Zemo answered for Sam.

“You shot a man in the head yesterday!” Sam snapped. “You antagonize Bucky at every turn. Forgive us for needing a break from whatever is happening in your fucked up head.”

Zemo tilts his head as if agreeing with everything Sam had just said.

“Anyway,” Bucky interrupted. “We have a lead on Karli. You can sleep off some jet lag while we’re gone, but starting tonight it’s your turn to keep track of him.”

You settled into a small bedroom. The moment your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. At home it’s nearly ten at night; here it’s midday.

The trio is back all too soon, heralded by a slam of a door, and you force yourself to wake up to adjust to the time change as rapidly and effectively as possible. As you open the door to the living room, Bucky is stalking toward Zemo. He grabs the teacup from Zemo’s hand and hurls it against the wall.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky growled, staring at Zemo with an unnerving glint in his eyes.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him,” Sam jumped up and grabbed Bucky’s arm. “He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”

Bucky’s face softened slightly. Zemo stops tilting his head.

“Let me make a call,” Sam says and walks away.

“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offers Bucky with a mocking tone.

“No. You go ahead,” Bucky hissed, and after a moment of staring, he followed Sam out of the room.

You had watched Zemo for that entire exchange, noticed the slightest flinch and hint of fear when Bucky had grabbed that cup. The moment the other two men are gone and Zemo thinks he’s alone, he pours himself another cup. His hand is steady, but he draws a sharp, unsteady breath.

You move out of the room, and Zemo looks up at you from his spot on the couch. Without a word, you walk into the kitchen, taking a roll of paper towels and carefully picking up the shattered glass.

“I can do that,” Zemo says, speaking directly to you for the first time.

His voice is calm, accent thick.

“It’s alright,” you answer, then gasp sharply as a piece slices your pointer finger from tip to palm. “Fuck.”

You set the bloody piece with the pile of glass and hold a paper towel to your hand. You used the other hand to wipe tea off the wall and floor before picking up the glass piled on a paper towel and placing it in the trash, carefully tucked in other garbage.

“Let me.”

Zemo’s voice behind you makes you jump. You eye him for a moment wondering if there is some ulterior motive, some way he could hurt you or hold you hostage. Nothing comes to mind, not with Sam and Bucky so close, so you hold out your bleeding hand. He clicks his tongue at the wound.

When he takes your hand in his, his fingers are soft and warm. He moves your wound under a faucet and lets water run, rinsing the blood down the sink. He squeezes the wound a bit, and you wince as it begins to bleed more.

“We bleed to clean our wounds. It is the body’s way of protecting itself,” he says and presses a towel to your finger as he shuts off the water. “Ironic isn’t it. The very thing meant to protect us from future danger, often kills us first.”

“I’m not here to debate the ethics of superheroes with you.”

“Hold that,” he lets go of your hand and opens another cabinet. “I know how I feel about enhanced humans. There is nothing for me to debate.”

Zemo takes your hand back in his. You watch his face as he works. He uses his mouth to remove the wrapping from a butterfly bandage. The bleeding has slowed, and he uses the bandage to pull your torn skin back together. The cut isn’t terrible, certainly not the worst injury you’ve ever had, but it will scar. He adds two more strips, then places an absorbent pad over it and wraps it all in gauze.

“When we get back, I’ll change that for you.”

“I’ll hope you don’t get killed then,” you offer with a grateful smile.

He doesn’t respond but gestures to you to join on the couch. You do, keeping what you feel is a safe distance between the two of you. Zemo hands you a cup of warm tea, but as you grab it, he doesn’t let go. Your undamaged fingers brush his for a long moment and he chuckles.

“Promise not to take after your friend James? I quite like this tea set.”

Your eyebrows knit together as he smiles at his own joke and finally surrenders the cup to you. That’s the last words you two exchange, and when Bucky and Sam return ready for the next part of the mission, they find the two of you sitting in silence sharing a pot of tea.

___

When the three men returned, Sam and Bucky held an unconscious Zemo between them. You jumped off the couch, the book you had been reading discarded, and let them lay Zemo down.

“What happened?”

“John Walker,” the two men answered in the same disgusted tone.

You leaned over Zemo, finally seeing the blood and bruise on his right temple.

“This one disappeared for a few minutes, shot Karli-”

“Didn’t kill her,” Sam interrupted, sounding relieved.

Much like Sam, you sympathized with Karli’s motives if not her methods. And much like Sam, you were glad she hadn’t died.

“Then Walker knocked him out with the shield,” Bucky finished.

There was no jab at Sam this time for which you were grateful.

“Which is the only useful thing he did,” Sam added. “Zemo destroyed the rest of the serum, so right now he’s above Walker in my book.”

You looked down at Zemo, blood had dripped down his face and neck, though most of it was dried now. His eyelids twitched as he slept.

“Are you two okay?” You asked as you walked toward the bathroom.

“Fine. We ditched Walker, but we’ll need to get out of here as soon as we figure out what to do with Karli,” Sam answered, collapsing on the couch with a heavy sigh.

You dampened a washcloth in the bathroom and on your way back to the living room, grabbed the first aid kit Zemo had used on you earlier.

“What are you doing? He’ll be fine,” Bucky muttered.

He was sitting next to Sam now.

“Returning a favor,” you answered as you knelt at Zemo’s side.

You dabbed at the drying blood with the cloth, wiping it off his cheek, out of his hair. Somehow the coat came out unscathed. Sam and Bucky were talking about something behind you, but you were entirely focused on the unconscious man.

Zemo had a handsome, aristocratic face, and he walked like royalty, like he was untouchable. This was evidence he wasn’t.

You moved to the actual wound next. The cloth was soft, unreasonably so. A large hand wrapped around your wrist, squeezing tightly. You inhale sharply and shift your gaze to Zemo’s hand then his eyes. When your eyes met his, he seemed to relax, releasing you and letting his hand fall at his side.

“Apologies,” he grunted, mouth twitching with pain.

“It’s alright,” you answer calmly, very aware that the other men had stopped talking and were fixated on a potential threat. “Turn your head please.”

You put a hand on his cheek and turned him to face you to get a better look at the wound that was still seeping slowly.

“The new Captain America might force me to reconsider my stance on superheroes. I would enjoy seeing Sam and James have a go at him,” Zemo said as you prod the wound.

You wiped the cut with antiseptic, and Zemo hissed a bit at that but said nothing. Then, just like he had done to you, you placed three butterfly bandages on the cut. It wasn’t deep, just long and jagged.

“You’re my new favorite,” he joked with a little grin.

You laughed and walked to the kitchen for some ice. There were no packs, so you grabbed a bag of frozen peas, wrapped them in a towel and set it gently on Zemo’s temple.

“I can’t have you dying when I need this changed tonight,” you said, holding up a finger.

When you turned around, Sam and Bucky had both stretched out on the couch. They both wore annoyed expressions that Zemo got a whole couch and they got one to share. Bucky bumped Sam’s foot with his own, much to your amusement and Sam’s annoyance. He kicked his partner back, and you decided not to interrupt their little couples spat. Instead, you move to sit on the ground.

Zemo grabbed your wrist again, this time gently. He tucked his legs up, folding them into a V, and motioned you to share his couch. And you did, sitting in the same spot you had earlier, this time near his feet still clad in shiny black leather shoes.

“Hey, you two,” Sam called. “What’s this cozy little couch situation going on here?”

“You two could have a cozy little couch situation too if you’d just talk to each other,” Zemo shot back.

He didn’t even look at Sam, just held the frozen vegetables to his face, eyes closed.

“Y/N?” Zemo asked after a moment. “Can you get me an Advil? Or better yet, some sort of alcoholic beverage?”

“I’m not your servant, Zemo,” you sighed but stood and poured him a glass of some expensive alcohol from a bottle with Sokovian writing.

He sipped it, setting it on his chest between sips as he lounged on the couch with you. Bucky was watching you out the corner of his eye, and you were watching Zemo. Every few sips he would grimace, his lips pressing together and chest catching. Then he’d relax, exhale softly and shift the peas back into place. Eventually you picked up your book and began to read again.

Sam left the room to take a phone call a few hours later and came back shaking.

“Karli threatened Sarah, my nephews. I have to meet with her. Alone.”

“I’m coming with you,” Bucky jumped in, already on his feet. “Walker will be there, and you can’t handle the Super Soldiers and Captain Propaganda on your own.”

Zemo was either asleep or doing a good job pretending beside you. The pea bag had been returned to the freezer. He’d discarded his coat and was now wearing only his black pants and a deep purple shirt with shoulder holsters.

“You got him?” Sam pointed to the sleeping man.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you answered, setting the book aside and watching them prepare to leave.

Both men donned their costumes, Sam strapping his wings on, Bucky ripping the sleeve off of yet another jacket so his metal arm could move freely.

“Call me- us if you need backup,” you shouted after them, knowing full well they would do no such thing.

“If we aren’t back in two hours, take his ass back to jail,” Bucky called back.

Baron Zemo woke up the minute the door slammed shut, which made you doubt he’d been sleeping at all.

“And now it is only us,” he said in that thick Sokovian accent. “I will cook us something for dinner.”

He moved into the kitchen, boiling a pot of water while you watched. You perched yourself on the counter near him as he searched through cabinets. When he noticed you, he paused and chuckled before returning to the cooking. You watched in silence, keeping a close eye on him when he picked up a knife and began chopping tomatoes from a can.

He handed you a bowl of thin noodles with a thick red sauce. It smelled delicious.

“A traditional and simple Sokovian dish, a comfort food you might say,” he explained and joined you on the counter. “I made enough for Sam and James. Call me an optimist.”

Zemo didn’t talk much, you realized, as you enjoyed the food in silence. It was delicious, a bit like pasta. Suddenly, the back door clicked open. You glance around nervously, realizing just how wrong this felt.

“They shouldn’t be back yet,” you say quietly. “And they wouldn’t come in the back.”

“My old associates must have found me,” Zemo jumps off the table, and you notice the same nervousness as when Bucky threw the cup. He cannot know about James or Sam.”

You can hear a single person strolling toward the kitchen in heavy boots.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Zemo whispered, and before you could even process the words, he was standing between your legs and pressing his lips to yours.

His movements are slow and careful, trying not to be invasive as he moves his hands to your back, sliding one up to the back of your head. You wrap an arm around his waist and slide the other hand up the front of his purple shirt, splaying your fingers across his chest. His lips are soft and warm as they move against yours. His hand keeps you from pulling away, not that you’d want to.

“I heard you were back in Riga,” a new voice chuckled. “I had to see for myself.”

Zemo pulls back, feigning surprise, but kept an arm protectively around you.

“And as you have undoubtedly noticed, I am quite busy,” he replied. “Perhaps you could come back tomorrow? I’d prefer not to discuss our business in front of…”

Zemo nods to you. You were staring at the man who you recognized from work files. He was a former Shield agent. When Shield fell, he used the chaos for his own advantage, working for neither Shield nor Hydra and killing anyone who stood in his way. You suspected, but couldn’t be sure, that some of your best friends had been killed by him. Fortunately, you had enough self-control not to shoot him. His mere presence made you tense and uncomfortable.

“Of course, Baron,” he grinned and look at you in a way that made you shift closer to Zemo. “I’ll see you tomorrow, noon. The usual place.”

He gave the two of you one last look and left with a wink to Zemo. Even when the other man had gone, Zemo’s hands were still holding you against him.

“We will have to be gone before noon tomorrow,” he said looking down at you.

For some reason, you were both still wrapped around each other.

“You know who he is?” Zemo said, a statement masquerading as a question. “I am sorry.”

Your face was only inches from him, and you could smell his cologne. Zemo used the hand on your head to pull you against his shoulder. You set your head there, face turned into his neck, and inhaled deeply. And there he sat and you stood, hugging tightly for no real reason except that no one else was there.

Zemo pressed a soft kiss to your head, and rather than protest you let his lips linger. Finally, his head fell on your shoulder. After a moment, he slid you off the counter, took your hand, and led you back to the couch. Without asking, the two of you settled together on the couch, so close your sides pressed against each other. He pulled a gun out of his shoulder holster, and you froze until he set it down on the table, smirking a little.

“I don’t make a habit of shooting people I’ve just kissed,” he chuckled and raised an arm for you to lean against him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at the forwardness. You shouldn’t be, after all, he had just kissed you and held you on the counter of his kitchen. Helmut Zemo made no sense to you, but in the end, you curled against him. He shifted to lay on his back, head propped on the pillows he was laying on earlier while you tucked yourself beside him, head on his chest.

Zemo wrapped an arm around you. You put a hand on his chest, fingering the purple shirt. He was warm and soft, and you had to remind yourself that you could not fall asleep while you are supposed to be watching him.

“Why are we doing this?” You whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you?” Zemo turns his head toward you.

“I haven’t had someone to do this with in a long time,” you answer slowly, cautiously, knowing full well this was a man who could turn on you on an instant or hold onto information until the moment it was advantageous to him.

“Neither have I,” He replied. “German prisons don’t allow much physical contact. Besides, I hope that with enough time perhaps I may kiss you again.”

You tilted your head up to see a grin tugging at the side of his lips, lips that had been on yours a few minutes ago.

“Maybe with enough time,” you answer and brush a lose strand of hair out of his eyes, letting your hand trail over the bruise on his face.

He caged your hand in his, bringing your joined hands back to his chest and holding them there. You felt the rise and fall of his breaths and it soothed you. When they grew deep and steady and the tension seemed to fall from his body, you realized he was truly asleep, not faking like earlier. Soon and against your better judgment, you were dozing off in his arms tossing a leg over his so your limbs tangled together.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was how warm and comfortable you felt with Helmut Zemo, and how completely ludicrous such a thought was.

It wasn’t long before the door opening woke you, still secure in Zemo’s arms. You tried to move, sit up so Sam and Bucky wouldn’t see this little arrangement. You failed. Bucky came in first, stopping in his tracks as he saw the scene on the couch.

“What are you doing? Keep walk- what?” Sam ran right into Bucky’s back then froze.

Their eyes were wide as they stared. Zemo shifted awake beneath you, and you could imagine the smirk on his face. Bucky’s metal fist clenched, and Sam, ever the peacemaker grabbed his arm and opted for a more amicable approach.

“One of you better start talking.”

#tfatws spoilers #tfatws #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #zemo fic #zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #spoilers #soft zemo #self insert fic #zemo x you #baron zemo x you #helmut zemo x you #zemo x reader fic #daniel brühl

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fivelakesinwriting · 3 years

Note

first fight with barry?? and reader sleeps on the couch and holds a grudge but fluff ending

Author's Notes: Barry forgets about an important event in his relationship with girl... Please let me know what you think if you have a moment. If this was your request, I hope you love it! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Drinking, Arguing, Sexual references - Sexual innuendos and Fluff .

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

Barry didn't like to break promises. To him, his word was as good as any legally binding document. If he told you he was going to do something, then he would do it.

When she asked him to meet her parents, he told her that he would. He didn't give her a date or a specific time. Perhaps that was his way of getting out of it at some point. He didn't "meet" parents. Mostly because he had never really been a serious relationship kind of guy.

One night stands, or a couple of weeks with someone was the most he could really stand to have someone in his space. Yet, this woman got 365 days out of him. And counting.

It had been a long, and hot day. Barry felt like he had pulled himself over the finish line for a job that didn't really have a punch out time. He slouched on the couch, head rested back on the cushions while he stared at the ceiling and pressed an unopened can of beer to the base of his throat.

His exhausted body perked up as he heard the distinct click of his favourite pair of her high heels across his kitchen floor. He rolled his head over the back of the couch and looked his woman up then down in a red dress, far too fancy to be hanging out with a guy like him.

"All dressed up, but you know I only like the shoes." Barry smirked his thumb brushing over his top lip, over the little bit of scruff there before he reached over to pop the top of his beer can.

"You aren't even dressed! We have to leave to meet my parents like, now." She replied with wide eyes as she looked him over on the couch, still in his baggy shorts and worn out tank with the loose collar.

"Shit. That was tonight, wasn't it?" Barry sighed as he placed his beer on the scuffed up coffee table in front of him, then ran both of his tired hands over his face. He couldn't believe he had forgotten, she had been reminding him all week long and had even put a fucking pink post- it note on the fridge to remind him.

So every time you get a beer, you remember our big date.

"Are you kidding me, Barry?" She scoffed with a shake of her head, holding her weight on the small counter beside her as she looked him up and down.

"I'm sorry, alright? Been a shit week, and I forgot. Can we reschedule?" Barry mumbled into the palms of his hands, embarrassed to show her his face.

"No! You know we can't! My parents are only in town for tonight and tomorrow. Tonight was supposed to be our dinner with them, then tomorrow they're visiting their friends. Barry, this was important." She argued with a stomp of her foot as she grabbed her phone off the charger, presumably to text her parents that the dinner was off.

"And I'm sorry! What else you want me to say?" Barry glared as he pulled his hands from his face then stood up as he slowly walked over to her, his eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at her. Suddenly, he didn't like her red dress so much any more.

"What to tell my parents, would be a good start." She spat as she turned around and sent him a glare of her own.

"Typical Kook Princess, huh? Bet they don't know even know what I do for a living. Bet you told them I'm still at one of those jobs I fucking quit." Barry grumbled as he grabbed her phone from her neatly manicured hands and held it above her head.

"And what was I supposed to tell them? That the guy I love is the fucking biggest drug dealer in the OBX? That would make my Mama so proud of me." She responded with a push of his firm chest before she tried to reach for her phone, standing on her toes to grab it.

"At least I'm good at something. Think they'd be proud you fucking someone successful at something." Barry mumbled his top lip curling as he held her phone higher above his head, just to taunt his short lover.

"Successful? That's a stretch." She glared with another slap to his chest before she gave up trying to get her phone back then turned on her heel and walked back to the bedroom.

"Oh, fuck you. Because I don't got my name on a desk or a fucking door like your Daddy doesn't mean I'm not worthy. Don't be a Kook bitch." Barry spat as he walked after her, tossing her phone onto the counter. He wasn't done with her, even if she was done with him.

"Don't follow me." She glared a finger pointed at his chest as she stood in the doorway of his bedroom.

"It's my house!" Barry yelled with his arms outstretched, gesturing to the small home they stood in.

"Fine. I'm going to dinner with my parents, and if I come back tonight I'll sleep on the couch. I'll see you later." She sighed as she grabbed her purse and brushed passed him, walking towards the door.

"Don't walk out on me." Barry growled as he stomped after her, hot on her heels.

She didn't reply. She was as stubborn as he was most of the time, playfully so more often than not. And of course he had to test it during their first fight. He caught the screen door as he came back at his face after she pushed it open and stalked outside. He held the door open and watched his love stomp down the dirt path towards the road where her car was parked.

"Just come back! Please!" Barry yelled as he ran a hand through his hair before he released his hold on the door and let is swing shut.

By the time Barry went to sleep that night, close to midnight, she wasn't home. He felt sick to his stomach, and he would be lying if he said his heart didn't ache either. It was their first big fight and he hated that he had let her leave like that. He hated that he let her leave at all.

The whole time she had been gone he went over the fight in his head, thinking of ways he could have approached it differently.

Should have just gone to the stupid fucking fancy dinner, Barry.

There's probably not that many forks to remember, Barry.

Those people made Her, so how bad could they possibly be?

By the time midnight rolled around Barry could hardly keep his eyes open, despite the way his heart raced in his chest pumping anxiety into his veins. She was supposed to be beside him, like she always was. She was supposed to be curled up beside him, in one of his shirts with that ass pushed up against him. He'd tell her, "no", that he was too tired. But he always just wanted her to beg a little more.

It was the first night in months, almost one year, that he had to try and sleep without his woman. His heart ached, and his bed was so cold even for the middle of Summer.

It was early in the morning when Barry woke up. His body still on that military routine even after all this time. He turned his head to look at the spot beside him and noticed the lack of her beside him. His heart couldn't sink any lower.

Barry scratched the back of his neck, then pulled his body out of bed to make the coffee and check his own phone to see if he had anything there from her. He pressed his hand to his heart over his chest as he walked to the kitchen to try and steady the rapid beating of it.

As he turned on the drip coffee maker and pulled his phone off the counter, his head snapped up when he heard a weak whine come from the living room.

"Early. You wake up too early." Came her groan from the couch, her body in under a pile of blankets.

"Fuck. You are here. Scared the shit out of me, woman." Barry sighed as he pressed his palms flat on the counter and exhaled heavily towards his feet. He pushed himself away from the counter before he quickly walked into the living room, grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her tired body off the couch and into his arms.

"I'm sorry." Barry grumbled into her messy hair as he squeezed her tightly.

"I'm sorry, too. I was being stupid and thinking that a post- it note was enough to make you remember something that was important to me. I should have actually confirmed it with you out loud, instead of assuming you'd remember." She sighed into his chest as she wrapped her own arms around his waist.

"I should have remembered something important to you." Barry muttered as he rested his chin on the top of her head as he placed his hands on her hips.

"I forgive you, if you forgive me." She smiled up at him as she placed her hands on the side of his face, pressing up on bare toes to get closer to his height.

"Forgave you last night." Barry nodded as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then leaned down to kiss her lips. He released a sigh of relief through his nostrils to have his woman back at home, safe and in his arms. He felt her fingertips curl into the material of his shirt to bring him close and he couldn't help but reach under the hem of her dress.

"Still got your nice clothes on." Barry grumbled against her lips as he reached under her dress, pulling the hem up to her hips so he could finally see what was under it.

"The house was dark when I came home. I didn't want to wake you up when I got home, so I slept on the couch." She whispered as she curled herself into his chest, her head resting in the crease of his shoulder.

"Go have a shower, get changed. I'll start breakfast. Got nothing to do today, so can be just us." Barry mumbled as he released his hold on her dress to press his palms flat on the small of her back.

"Okay. That sounds nice." She nodded as she pulled her face from his neck to look at his face, her own hands resting on his hips.

"A'ight. Be out here waiting. You don't have to change your shoes, though. If you don't want." Barry smirked as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before he unwrapped her from his arms then gave her backside a pat to nudge her towards the bathroom.

"Nope! You missed your chance last night, Big Guy!"

Hotties:

@starkey-babie @barrysjumpsuit @fashion-fasting @sodasback @pogueslandia @vintageobx @rottenstyx @babeyglo @beauvibaby @soph0864 @plutooryectors @rafecameronspolo @whcclxr

*tag list is open, please let me know if I forgot you or you would like to be added/removed from particular posts. I've removed the people that don't pre-populate :(

#barry x reader #barry obx #barry outer banks #outer banks barry #obx barry #barry x reader fluff #barry baddies #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #jj maybank #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #barry obx fluff #barry obx x reader #obx fic #obx fluff

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composttea · 11 months

Text

🌲 Masterpost 🌲

🌲 Full Fic 🌲

My mom stood at the drop-off, smiling. I hefted my suitcase out of the back and made my way over to the side of the SUV.

“Ready?”

I shrugged and she frowned.

“You really don’t have to do this, you know. Phil will be fine on his own.”

A plane roared overhead, drowning her out. Her boyfriend was a baseball player, currently up for recruitment. Spring training was calling his name, and with it my mom.

I leaned in and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I want to, really. Just not looking forward to the flight.”

Renée hugged me back, squeezing my shoulders tight. “Oh, sweetie. I wish you weren’t all on your own.”

The car behind us honked. Renée turned and waved at them.

“Who else is going to keep Charlie company?”

She smiled softly at me. “Did you pack enough clothes? Washington gets cold.”

I was a bad liar, but a persistent one.

The traffic was starting to pile up, and Renée darted forward to scoop me into a tight hug.

“I love you so much, honey.” She stepped back and looked me in the eyes. Hers were a sparkling green-gold that I envied. Just brown for me. “Call me as soon as you land, okay?”

I nodded and started toward the entrance. I didn’t look back.

“You remember Billy Black?”

Charlie and I shared a brain sometimes.

“Yeah?” Of course I remembered Billy. He and my dad had been friends as long as I could remember.

“If you want it, I just bought a ‘63 Chevy off him. He and his son fixed it up over the winter.”

I looked away from the thick mist looming over the road at Charlie. “That’s—wow, thank you.”

He shrugged. After a moment, he tested out a smile. “Agreeing before you even take a look?

“I have very low standards.”

Charlie laughed lightly and tried to continue with the small talk.

There was a hulking, red pick-up waiting in the driveway. The fenders curved like boxing gloves, challenging any lesser car to impact. I loved it.

As soon as he got my suitcase upstairs, Charlie mumbled something about a baseball game and made himself scarce. It was eerie being back in my old room. I spent a couple months every summer here as a kid, captured in the layers of pictures and decorations like bugs in amber. Did you know "nostalgia" was originally a sickness? My chest tightened as I took in the faded blue paint and the chipped desk tucked in the corner. Charlie and I found it at a garage sale when I was eleven. I got to unpacking right away, but I took my time. Once my stuff was put away I would be actually living here.

***

It was the knife. The knife was too blunt. Must have been. Jasper looked up from straightening his cuffs and glowered at me.

“Good morning.” I waved at the pile on the coffee table. “Trouble last night?”

“It was shaping up nicely, but my hand slipped.” Jasper stalked past me to the coat closet.

I could see the image in his mind with perfect clarity: a waterfowl of some sort, whittled from a block of pine. It splintered into nothing when he lost his focus and crushed it.

“Maybe you should try stone.”

“Maybe you should try staying out of my head,” he snapped. He closed his eyes for a moment before returning my gaze. “Sorry.”

“There’s a new student today.” I met Jasper at the closet and took my coat when he handed it to me. “The Chief’s daughter.”

“Hm.” He pulled on his boots. Does he think I forgot?

“I thought the students might be excited about it—something a little different than usual.”

Jasper’s mouth was pressed into a hard line, but he smiled at me. “Hoping to make a friend?”

Jasper's gifts were particularly maladapted to a high school environment. Yes, hearing the endless torrent of thoughts of every human I passed was a living nightmare, but experiencing the emotional turmoil of three hundred teenagers for six hours at a time was a special circle of hell. The thoughts I caught when I passed Jas in the halls were enough I considered pulling him aside, as much as he would hate it. He was older—biologically and empirically, by two and sixty years, respectively—but I often felt like the elder sibling, seeing as I had been committed to our family's particular lifestyle significantly longer. It was never easy, abstaining from human blood. Moral high ground was rather weak compensation for the agony of rejecting one's base nature.

I caught him walking to the cafeteria.

Don't. He kept his eyes straight ahead as we moved through the line.

I nodded, picking items for my tray the way one might select a series of paperweights.

“The new girl . . .” I started. His face soured.

“Can you read her?”

Jasper drew his eyebrows together. “Why?”

“I’m curious.” I tried to keep my tone casual, even though I knew he could sense my interest, impatient as it was.

Why? He didn’t bother to speak aloud this time.

Silence.

Like a void had opened up in the middle of the bustling cafeteria.

Without warning, she looked up, directly at me. Her eyes widened and she looked quickly away. I could see her cheeks flush from our table. I let myself smile. At least she was human.

I looked at my brother again. His rigid posture was unchanged, but his head tilted slightly to the side, like a cat inspecting a mouse.

“She’s uncomfortable. Uneasy.”

“Obviously.” I crossed my arms, tamping down on the quiet jealousy rising from my chest.

Jasper scowled. “You would know if I was lying to you.”

Beside me, Jasper grinned back for a split second, teeth glinting in the discolored light from above.

“She’s dating Jasper,” Mike interjected. I could see Jessica’s glare in his mind as he shied away. He looked at Bella and noted her confused expression.

“The weird one?” Jessica put it so plainly I had to press my lips together to stop a laugh. I felt a sharp kick to my shin. Jasper was paying more attention than he was willing to admit.

Angela spoke next, her voice melodic in comparison to some of the others at the table. “We don’t know if they're dating. They tend to keep to themselves.”

I contented myself knowing I would have the chance to get my fill next period.

***

I made it to Bio in one piece. Each of my morning classes had made me introduce myself to the other students, as though they a). cared or b). didn’t already know. I had to wear gym clothes from the school to participate in PE (casualties were kept to a minimum, thankfully, by Jessica's tactful approach to keeping me sidelined). I appreciated it, but the embarrassment was still stinging.

"Isabella?"

"Just Bella." I was still standing in the doorway, frantically trying to calculate where to sit. The room was completely full, and everyone was staring at me. Everyone except for one of the Cullens Jessica pointed out at lunch. I stepped fully into the room, bracing myself for another forced introduction. Instead I got a polite gesture to take a seat. I breathed my relief and walked down the aisle.

I looked away and pulled out my notebook, heart racing. What the hell?

The teacher started talking, picking up mid-topic, and the frigid eyes kept boring holes in my head. Was I afraid? My body said yes—the cold sweat, the dry mouth, that's what this response was—but why? This kid was a freak. He was being a creep.

I tried to focus on the lecture, I really did, but how could I? After some amount of time, I realized he wasn't breathing. Or he was, but so shallowly I couldn't hear. I tried to surreptitiously sniff my shirt. Was the ghost of PE still haunting me? Unless he could smell shame, I thought I was okay. I let down my hair, hoping to hide behind the curtain in my peripheral vision.

He whimpered. An actual whimper, nearly inaudible, but I was sure of it. I turned on him. I didn't care if the other students were watching this. He was the one being weird.

I waited, and waited. For him to drop dead. For laser beams to shoot out of his eyes. I don't know. But the sinking wrongness of the situation continued to lurk and writhe in me until the bell rang.

Before the sound ended, he had swept himself out of the room, leaving a vacuum behind. I didn't know how to describe the ache I felt, or why tears were pricking at my eyes. I did know that I had another class to get to.

The Universe was not content to let me suffer quietly; it insisted on rubbing salt in the wound.

I found myself back at the front office at the end of the day. I was supposed to check in and confirm I wasn't going to run screaming into the woods, or something. The tiny room was crowded with announcements and flyers for far more clubs and activities than a school this size ought to have. In front of the desk was my new nemesis: Edward Cullen. I had almost gotten to the point of thinking it was all in my head. Surely I fabricated the whole scenario to make my awkward first day more eventful. But there he was, lean and imposing, stupid, copper-colored hair looking artfully disheveled, his back to the door, and thankfully, to me.

I overheard his conversation with the administrator. It occurred to me that this was the first time I'd heard his voice. It was slick, subtle like a flytrap.

"There has to be a way."

"I'm sorry, Edward, it's simply too late in the year to change classes."

I felt like I had been slapped in the face. He couldn't possibly be talking about me. That was absurd.

"I've already taken Biology. You can check my record from my last school, it's all there." His voice was pleading. "I'll take an independent study."

The administrator peered up at him over the red rims of her glasses. She sighed. "Look, I've done everything I can. You—”

Edward straightened, startling the woman into silence.

"Fine," he snapped. "I guess it's too late."

I realized he was turning away from the desk a moment later and jumped out of the way as he glided toward the door. He didn't look at me again.

"Hun?"

The administrator was talking to me. I had been standing by the door for several seconds. Once my brain sputtered back to life, I handed her my forms and finished my exchange.

#twilight renaissance #twilight rewrite #duskfic #twilight fanfic #twilight

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louweasleymalfoy · 3 years

Text

Masterlist

•••

I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater

You said it looked better on me than it did you

Only if you knew how much I liked you

“Why is it so cold outside?” I whined as I pulled my knees to my chest, making Draco laugh.

"It’s winter Y/N/N" He playfully rolled his eyes as he pointed out the obvious "You should have known it was going to be cold"

I hummed in response and he looked at me through knitted eyebrows.

"Hold on" Draco ran to who knows where, leaving me behind.

The both of us were in the courtyard and not bringing a sweater was probably the dumbest idea I had.

Not even a minute has passed and Draco was back with a piece of clothing in his hands and he tossed it towards my direction.

"Here, wear my sweater you dummy"

I caught it, and gave him a smile of thanks.

"My hero" I dramatically said, placing a hand on my chest, as Draco ruffled my hair. "Can't have my dumb best friend freeze to death" I ignored his comment and decided to put it on.

As I pulled the sweater on, I was overwhelmed with the scent of green apples. It was comforting and I couldn’t help but feel instantly at peace.

"How do I look?" I asked him with a hopeful smile and he returned it with his own warm smile.

“You look better than me in it” He remarked and winked in my direction, making my heart melt and have butterflies erupt in my stomach. My words stuck in my throat.

I hated how Draco could make me so flustered like this. But unfortunately, he didn’t notice.

“Look!” I exclaimed, gesturing at the snowflake I caught in my hands.

“It’s beautiful,” I muttered, looking at the snowflake in awe. Unbeknownst to me, he was staring at me. “Yeah, it is,” Draco said

But I watch your eyes as she

Walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than the blue sky

She's got you mesmerised while I die

Slytherin hosts the BEST parties, that is a fact. The party was in full swing at the common room as the students mingled with each other. I was standing by the table with Draco as we joked around, watching our friends get drunk.

"Fck you" I said as Draco made a snide comment about something I said.

"Maybe later" He said, giving me a flirty wink and I had to pretend that I didn't hear him, feeling myself blush. Whenever Draco got a couple of drinks in him, he would get in a flirtatious mood with me. I both loved it and hated it. When he was sober, he would never say something like that.

"You know I—" I stopped myself mid sentence when I noticed that Draco's focus was across the room. I followed his line of sight and saw the source of the distraction.

Heather

The girl waved in Draco's direction, making her way over as he didn’t take his eyes off of her.

All I could do was leave. I couldn’t stay there while he flirted with her. It would kill me.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester

But you like her better

Wish I were Heather

I sat near the black lake with an empty bottle of fire whiskey in my hand. I wished I had another drink in my hand, but that would require me getting up from my spot.

Instead I closed his eyes and thought of everything and nothing. I feel someone sitting next to me and yet I made no effort to move, my eyes still shut.

"The stars look beautiful tonight don't you think?” A familiar voice said and I simply hummed in agreement.

"I feel like I don’t get nights like this as much as I want. When was the last time we went out to see the stars?" He continued and I opened my eyes.

"Draco, why are you here?" I asked him with furrowed brows "What? Am I not allowed to hang out with you anymore?" He playfully said with a grin and I rolled my eyes as he started to talk about random things.

"Theo is definitely not handling the break up well" Draco informed as we talked about our friend Theo who got his heart broken by a girl.

"Well trust me, dating is not fun" I said grumpily. He put his hand on my knee, making ne freeze up. "You know what Y/N? I can’t remember the last time you kissed someone"

"W-what?" I turned my head to look at him. "Oh come on, when was the last time you hung out with a guy that isn't me, Blaise, and Theo? When was the last time you kissed someone?"

"That's not true! I hang out with um..other guys?" I defended and yet I sounded unsure, looking away from him. "Oh yeah? Give me a guy's name that you've actually made out with"

There was a long silence to follow, before Draco said ever so casually "Well, you can kiss me if you want to? I don't mind" He offered

My head swiveled to face my friend, my mouth slightly agape in surprise. Draco laughed.

"Come on, I just want you to remember what it feels like. It’s just some fun between friends" He sat up, leaning towards me. "Yeah?" He asked.

I settled with a nod before Draco was inches from me. It felt like one of my craziest dreams as my eyes fluttered shut and I felt Draco's lips on mine.

It lasted no longer than ten seconds, but I could remember every detail. How his lips felt, how he exerted little pressure, and how it was over way before I wanted it to be. Draco pulled away so suddenly, his hand going up to his head.

"Woah. I think my head hurts. I better go to sleep. Goodnight Y/N" He got up from his spot and went inside.

I mumbled an agreement, wondering if I had just imagined the kiss.

Weeks later and I was still replaying those few minutes in my head.

Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand

Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder

But how could I hate her, she's such an angel

But then again, kinda wish she were dead

I turned to watch them as the pair walked along the hallways. Her hand was nestled into his, he was swinging it ever so slightly. She pointed to something in the distance and they stopped to look. She said something to make him laugh, and he slung his arm around her shoulder. I felt like I was going to throw up.

"You are just going to get more depressed the more you stare at them ya know?" I jumped a little at the sound of Pansy's voice as she gave me a sad smile. I turned to look at Draco. His cheeks were pink as he stumbled for words with Heather beside him, wearing his sweater.

"I wasn’t- I was just-"

"It’s okay Y/N/N, I know that you love him" I exhaled. "Is it really that obvious?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Probably not. I’m just observant. He should just admit that he likes you I’m sorry that he's with that btch."

“She’s not a btch” I said weakly, but couldn’t stop a sad smile form "I bet she's nice. I mean Draco likes her, not me. He'll probably only see me as a friend" I said as I feel my heart ache.

"So? You like her for Draco then?" Pansy asked

I looked back over to the pair where they were growing smaller in the distance.

"Is it bad I kinda wish she didn’t exist?"

"Not really" Pansy replied, placing a hand on my shoulder "We’ve all been there"

"I feel so stupid. Having feelings for my best friend" I muttered

She reached over to take my hands. "You can’t help who you fall in love with Y/N/N. I’m really sorry that you are in this situation. I could've sworn you two would end up with each other, turns out Draco is just blind to see that"

"He never loved me that way Pansy, I don't know what you're talking about, but still thank you for understanding.

I was embarrassed, but I felt tears threatening to fall from my eyes. It was nice to share my struggle with someone else.

"I think I’m going to sleep in our dorm" I said, letting go of her hands, and she gave me a nod. Before I left, she pulled me into an embrace, engulfing me in her arms.

"It’ll be okay Y/N/N, I promise you"

I thanked her and left, thinking of a certain blonde haired boy with grey eyes. I slammed the door shut and walked over to my closet.

I searched for something to wear and saw his sweater. I let my fingers run through the fabric and decided to wear it. I immediately crawled into bed and pulled the covers over me.

I closed my eyes as I cried myself to sleep. Of all the people my heart could have chosen, it decided on a boy who only saw me as a friend and nothing more. All I could do now was imagine what would've happened if he loved me back.

I wish I was Heather

•••

Part 2

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warmblanketwhump · 3 years

Text

safe enough to fall

a little university-themed thing I wrote using @sicktember prompts: comfort item, sneaky temperature check, medicine, unlikely caregiver, and lightly inspired by these prompts

the grip of the winter’s cold was their constant, unrelenting companion - but sometimes, B just wished it would be a little less faithful.

It doesn’t ease in the morning, when B wakes up coughing with a cold nose and stiff limbs. It stays as B shivers through the lukewarm shower and the hurried layering of clothes over damp, goosebumped skin. It sticks to them like cling wrap on the bus, in the lecture hall, the windy walk to their next class, makes them tense their rattling jaw, and leaves them hunched over and huddled up, desperate to conserve any scrap of heat.

This was a fact of their university existence - that after the pleasant crispness of fall, their poor, scholarship-funded body was plunged into four months of frozen hell. They didn’t like to complain - after all, they were getting a free education. But no one told them how brutal their university’s winters would be, nor that dorm heating was little more than a few puffs of warm air every hour, or that regardless of how many layers they pulled on, they’d be chilled to the bone until late March.

Their final class of the week is in a drafty science lab, and they hold back a groan. The cold's not the only source of their dread - it was the thought of spending 90 minutes with their perky, overly friendly lab partner, A.

A, whose parents were well-off, well-known benefactors of their university. A, who lived in a nice house with proper heating and had the money for a warm winter coat. A, who obliviously chattered on about anything and everything. Besides that, they were just so...happy. All the time.

The can afford to be, B thought miserably. There was no way all that sunshine could be real.

B really tried to tamp down their bitterness, but it was hard to listen to someone gush on about their amazing weekend their family spent on some tropical island when B spent the same weekend wrapped up in blankets, trying to stay warm enough to study their nomenclature notes.

Two minutes before class, A bounds into the lab like a freed golden retriever and begins their usual volley of caffeinated questions, which B responds to in short, clipped answers. Suddenly, the questions stop and A’s brows furrow.

“You look cold. Are you okay?”

B shifts on their stool and tucks their fingers into the sleeves of their worn secondhand coat, pulling it tighter with a shudder. “I am cold. It’s winter.” They cough weakly into their elbow - the nagging cough has gripped them for weeks now.

“Are you sick?”

Direct, then. That was new. “No. At least, I don’t think so. I don’t have a fever or anything.” In truth, they had been feeling a little lower than usual the past couple of days, the chill a little deeper, the aches more pronounced, the cough a bit more painful. But in their book, that was hardly enough call themselves sick. B sniffles and A opens their mouth to comment further, but the professor calls the class to attention, and the moment is gone.

90 minutes later, they’ve got their work cut out for them - a ten-page lab report that’s going to count for nearly a quarter of their final grade. And as luck would have it, it was a partner project, which meant B got to spend more time with the equivalent of human rocket fuel.

“So...do you want to just knock this out tonight?” A's eyes dart around nervously.

B frowns - it’s almost the weekend, and they figured A would have plans with friends this evening. But B sure doesn’t have anything going on., so they don’t protest. “No… I s’pose we should get as much done as possible while it’s still fresh. Want to go to the library?”

“Ugh." A cringes. "Do we have to? That place is like a tomb.”

B huffs indignantly. “It's not that bad," they mumble in a weak defense of their favorite study spot. A shoots them a glare, and B rolls their eyes. "Do you have somewhere better? It's Friday, so most places are closing up.”

“Well, my parents decided to go on some last-minute ski trip to the Alps again, so my place is free," A says as they step out into the biting wind. "Plus, I have a ton of food and it's actually warm in there, unlike these buildings.”

The promise of decent heating and food that wasn't from the dining hall was enough for B. "Fine. Your place." The pair trudge through the bitter wind as the sun begins to set, and soon they arrive at A's parents’ home - a beautiful, winding estate just a couple minutes away from campus. B has to bite their lip to keep their jaw off the ground - in the blustering snow, this place looks straight out of a Christmas card. Another reminder of how they don’t fit in this world.

Will you stop? B chastises themselves. A having money isn't a personal attack on you. Just enjoy the free food, finish the assignment and get over it.

Despite the towering exterior, B's house was quite cozy, colored in warm neutrals and filled with soft, comfortable furniture. Just past the mudroom, they spot a big living room filled with with an enormous overstuffed couch, squashy-looking pillows, and soft throw blankets. Everything about this place screams warm. A rubs their arms, suddenly aware of how cold they are. The heat nearly makes them dizzy, and they can feel the temperature difference as it seeps into their cold skin.

"Want some cocoa?" A tosses their bag into the corner and heads for an electric kettle in the kitchen, and B follows. "It always helps me warm up." B nods. A couple minutes later, A pushes over a steaming mug with the top entirely covered in marshmallows.

B wraps their chilled fingers around the mug and takes a sip, and the warm, rich liquid feels like heaven to their cold body. "That's amazing."

A smiles. "It's the good stuff." They sip in a surprising silence for a few moments, before A sighs in resignation. "As much as I wish this was just a social call, this report isn't gonna write itself." They grab a bag of popcorn and nod their head toward the living room, and B follows dutifully. A flicks on the gas fireplace and tosses B a throw blanket, and the pair gets to work.

------------------------------

After a couple hours of studying, three instances of indignantly thrown popcorn, and a dramatic reading of the periodic table, B realized that they may have misjudged A. Deep down, under the bubbly exterior, A was a genuinely kind, sweet person. It wasn't an act - they just were human sunshine. And the longer they spent time with them, the more B realized they didn't mind their company at all.

"Alright." A drops their pencil and rubs their eyes. "If I have to balance one more equation, my brain's gonna explode. Study break time." A flips on the TV and puts the volume on low.

B leans their head back on the couch and pulls their throw blanket to their chin, trying to ward off the shivery feeling in their core. Despite the heat of the fire, the mug of hot chocolate, and the thick blanket, they just can’t seem to get warm.

Their face feels hot, but their blood feels chilled and heavy, the weight of it making them ache deep down in their bones. B wraps their arms around their knees, trying to rub away the throbbing pain and get some warmth into their skin. They glance out the picture window at the now-blowing snow. It's gonna be a miserable walk home.

"B, you're shivering." A's turning to look at them now.

B startles. "It's-It's nothing. Just a chill." The concern in A's voice triggers their flight response. "I....I should probably get back to the dorms. It’s late–" They're cut off with a hacking cough that leaves them breathless and they wince at the ache in their chest.

"B, it's snowing, and you haven't even had dinner-"

"Where's my jacket?" They push themselves up and toss the throw blanket off, instantly regretting it as the air invades their pocket of hard fought warmth. They’re trembling and dizzy and desperately freezing, but they cannot stay here. Then, the world tilts and they fall back on to the couch. For a moment, they're just laying in an icy, spinning world, trying to catch their breath, when warmth suddenly envelops them.

A's tucking the same thick grey blanket around their shivering form. As they pull away, their hand lightly brushes over B's neck, then freezes. B twists away from the gentle touch, but it’s too late. Realization floods over A's face. Caught. "You lied. You are sick."

B groans, even as their fingers weave into the chunky knit and pull the warm layer closer. "A, please. Just let me go home. I'm probably contagious. You don't want me here."

"B, you look like death warmed over. I'm not sending you out in a blizzard when you're feverish like this. I won't do it." There's a spark in their eyes and a set to A's jaw that dares B to challenge them.

B leans back, defeated. Even though they want nothing more than to run out of this room, they're too weak to stand and too cold to move. So here they'll stay.

It's okay. Someone's here. You can give in now.

No. I can't. I can't let them see me like this.

What choice do you have? You already look awful. Let them help you.

A covers them with another blanket and places a gentle hand on their back, rubbing slowly. The firelight flickers, casting light and shadow across their solemn face. “B. Tell me what you're feeling, and I'll get you what you need.”

B swallows down the rising panic, the helpless vulnerability they feel, and takes a shallow, shaky breath. “I…I guess I just feel….not right. I’m always cold...but it's...worse.” They sniffle weakly, trying to still and order their swirling thoughts. “Chills, fever, cough, sore throat, kinda stuffed up. And it just hurts everywhere.”

A nods slowly, then leaves the room. They return in a few minutes with a few small bottles, carefully scanning the labels and holding them up for B to see.

“Can you take this? Any problems with this one?” B had to take a moment and match the brand names with their usual knockoff brands, but soon they had a couple over the counter medicines picked out, along with something for their cough.

A glances at the medicine labels once more. "This one says to take with food. I've got some leftover chicken and dumpling soup I can heat up - does that sound okay?"

B nods almost imperceptibly. "Sounds wonderful." A gets up to heat the soup, and B feels the anxiety rising in their stomach when they're not in the room with them. A returns with a mug and manages to gently spoon a few sips of broth into B's mouth before B starts falling asleep, clutching the grey blanket even tighter to their shoulders.

A smiles sadly. “That blanket's my favorite whenever I'm not feeling good. It's the best thing you could have to fight off what you’ve got. Trust me.”

B curls into the soft fabric. It was as if the warm environment of the apartment and the comfort of the blanket had been a signal that it was safe to leave survival mode, rest for a moment, open the floodgates that had been holding back whatever had been ailing them for weeks.

After B takes their medicine, A’s eyes shift awkwardly around the room. “So….when you’re sick, do you like having someone with you? Or do you want to be by yourself?”

A sudden rush of emotion crashes over B. They’d so rarely had the choice. It takes all they’ve got not to throw themselves around A and beg them not to leave. “Stay, please,” they ask in a small, trembling voice. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

A smiles halfway and gently pats B’s leg. “Seeing as how I live here, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” They take their spot at the end of the couch and pull B’s legs over their own, flicking the TV to a familiar movie. B tries to keep up with the plot, but they keep falling in and out of a fitful, restless sleep, tossing, turning, unable to get comfortable enough.

When B’s about ready to cry from exhaustion, A’s there, covering them up with another blanket, bringing them a glass of water, gently stroking the damp hair off their forehead before laying a cold cloth over it. They flinch at first, but the cool dampness eases the fire of their fever, even for just a moment. The last thing B remembers before falling unconscious is a gentle hand squeezing theirs.

It could be minutes or hours later when they jolt awake from a fever dream in a cold sweat, choking and coughing. They’ve kicked off their blankets and the cloth is nowhere to be found, but the chills are back in full force. A appears in B’s blurred vision, hand held to B’s forehead. “Poor thing. Your fever’s worse,” they murmur.

B’s still gasping for breath, curled up in the fetal position, body wracked by the shakes as they try force the words through their chattering teeth. “A...It's so cold. I’m so scared.”

If B was more lucid, they’d see something in A’s eyes crack wide open at their weak, fearful cries. A pulls the trusted grey blanket from the floor and wraps it back around B, rubbing their arms to try and make them feel warmer. There's something in the tenderness of the gesture, and B’s panicked gasps turn into soft, quiet sobs. They try and cover their face with one hand, but A’s hand is there, catching their wrist and wiping the tears away with their thumb.

“Hey. You’re gonna be okay. We just gotta get through tonight, alright?” A’s voice matches their usual cheery demeanor, but B can see the fear in their own eyes. They don’t know what they’re doing either.

“Why are you helping me?” B whispers in a tear-roughened voice.

A shrugs. "You're sick. You need help. Is it that so surprising?"

B's eyes flash a delirious spark. "You don't get it. I'm a broke scholarship student. I'm nothing like you. I'm not fun, or bubbly, or rich, or any of those things you are, and I don't fit in here. So why?"

B can't stop the words now, every single insecurity laid bare. "Why do you try to talk to me when I'm nothing but rude to you? Why'd you invite me here? Am I just a project to you? Why are you helping me? I'm not worth it!" The words spill out before B can stop them, and the raw hurt in A's eyes nearly rips B's heart out of their chest.

B claps their hand over their mouth, tears flooding their eyes. Now they've done it. They've laid it all out there. A's gonna kick them to the curb. And B won't blame them one bit.

But instead, A just looks at them, and pulls B into a hug. Their voice wavers only a bit as they whisper in B's ear: "You're not a project. You are completely worth being cared for. And you’re not the only one who knows what it feels like to not fit somewhere. Trust me.”

Alone. In a big, empty house. Studying on a Friday night. No plans of their own.

A, are you lonely, too?

Their words are so simple.

And yet they're everything B didn't know they needed to hear. A's got one arm around their shoulders, and one hand threaded through their sweaty, fever-damp hair, and they're cradling B so tightly it’s like they're the one who needs to be held.

B can't find the words to apologize or comfort them back. They're too tired for that. But they wrap their other arm around A and let their head rest on their shoulder. They stay like that for ages until their head begins to drop, and A shifts so they’re both laying down, B curled against A, A’s arm wrapped around their shoulders as they tuck a blanket around them both.

And finally, finally, B lets go. It's safe to fall, this time around. Because for the first time, there's someone there to catch them.

#sickfic #whump #sickfic prompt #whump prompt #cold whump #lol i rewrote this four times #can i just be chill about whump #no #no i cannot #also it’s cooler today #fall means whump weather #I don’t make the rules

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