#don’t yell at me if I did something wrong please

[diazsdimples]

Buck is going to throw up. Probably. The panic attack is barely being kept in place as he flings himself from the driver’s seat of the jeep and races up the stairs of the Diaz house.

“Maddie!” he yells, kicking his shoes to the side and throwing off his jacket. Usually he’d knock but today, it’s an emergency. His brain isn’t working, not even considering the fact that he might be waking up his 3-month-old nephew as he powers through the house calling his sister’s name. “Maddie, are you home?”

“In here!” his sister’s voice echoes down the hall, originating from the kitchen. He finds her making lunch, the baby strapped to her chest in a muslin wrap, like a little joey in his mother’s pouch.

God, she’s glowing like this. She’d had a rough start, postpartum depression rearing its head in the first few weeks, but she’s seeing a therapist, and Eddie’s managed to negotiate some time off work. She still has bad days, but on the whole, she seems happier. Lighter.

Her brow furrows as she takes in his dishevelled appearance, and her hand comes up to cup the back of the baby’s head.

“Evan? What’s going on?”

Buck does a quick scan of their surroundings – they seem to be alone in the kitchen at least, but he needs to know if they’re alone in the house. He can’t do this if there’s a chance someone will walk in and interrupt.

“I-Is Eddie home?”

“No, he’s out getting Benjamin some new diapers. Why?”

“Good, I just – you can’t tell him what I’m about to tell you. You promise?”

Maddie’s brow furrows and she rounds the kitchen island, taking Buck’s arm and leading him into the lounge. She unwraps Benjamin and carefully places him in his bassinet before turning and giving Buck her full attention.

“Are you in trouble?”

God, isn’t that the question?

“No! I mean, yes? Maybe? Probably. Eddie’s going to kill me, at least.” Buck scrubs a rough hand over his face, hoping the slight sting will clear his head a little.

“I feel like a bit of context wouldn’t go amiss here,” Maddie comments with a raised eyebrow, her arms crossed across her chest. She looks decidedly unimpressed, and honestly, Buck can’t blame her. He’d be a bit annoyed if she burst into his house, announced something was wrong, and then proceeded to be extremely cryptic about it all.

“Adriana’s pregnant,” he blurts out before his courage wanes, and holy fuck, it’s one thing to know and a whole other thing to admit out loud.

Maddie’s expression pulls into one of confusion, and Buck can practically see the cogs turning in her head as she tries to connect the dots.

“Adriana’s…. pregnant?” she repeats slowly, and he nods. He feels like he’s swallowed a ball of lead, and there’s sweat trickling down between his shoulder blades, prickling his skin. “And what does that, uh, what does that have to do with you?”

Right. This part, admittedly, will be worse to reveal. This is where the disowning and being thrown bodily from the home of his sister and his best friend will come in. Buck is regretting a lot of choices right about now.

“A-Adriana and I, we’ve – uh – we’ve been, um, sleeping together, kind of.”

Maddie’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline, and Buck slouches a little further into the couch, making himself small.

“Kind of?” Maddie echoes, incredulous. “How do you ‘kind of’ sleep with someone. Did you trip and fall into her vagina?”

“Jesus, okay it’s not kind of, we are sleeping together. And now she’s pregnant and – fucking hell Maddie, I’m so screwed. I’ve fucked up.”

His sister looks less than impressed, and that makes Buck’s stomach roil. He feels sick, so so sick that he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“And I presume that’s why you don’t want me to tell Eddie this?”

“He’ll kill me, Mads! Please, you can’t tell him. He doesn’t even know that –”

“That you fucked his sister?” Maddie cuts in.

“Hey, don’t say it like that!” Buck says, affronted. “He fucked my sister too, by the way. First!”

“He’s my husband! That’s different!”

“He wasn’t when you started!”

Maddie holds up her hands in surrender, glancing nervously at Benjamin as he stirs in his crib. His little face screws up and he lets out a tiny whine that burrows deep into Buck’s chest, igniting a dormant protective instinct that only flares up when he’s around helpless creatures.

“Give me a second.” Maddie crosses the room and lifts her son into her arms, pressing a kiss to the soft hair on his head. He squirms in her arms, shifting and stretching before eventually settling back down. With a fond smile, Maddie makes her way back to the couch and holds the baby out for Buck to take, which he willingly does.

[julianne124]

Rumor has it…

James Potter x reader

Authors note: please request stuff because I have no inspiration rn 😣😣

Warnings: um none? I don’t think, maybe rumors but other than that I don’t think so. No use of any name but one use of feminine pronouns

(First person)

I was furious. Someone has started a rumor, that me and James Potter were dating. Now don’t get me wrong, I liked him and he was great looking. But I’ve never thought past that, but whoever started this rumor has gone too far. Lily was following me as I was tracking down Potter. I pasted Sirius after he saw how upset I was, he pointed towards where he was.

I stormed up to him, “James! Why would you do that!?” I yelled at him and he looked so clueless and innocent. I know he started this rumor to humiliate me. “What? What did I do this time?” He asks with a very confused expression on his face. “Don’t act so clueless!” I exclaimed. After a moment his mouth made an ‘o’ shape and then was upset. He starts to walk around me, the way I just came from.

“Sirius!?” He yells down the hall to his best friend. It goes silent as his voice echoes down the hallway. As the black haired boy was sneaking down the hall to get away from James’ wrath. He turns around with an innocent smile, trying to ease into it. “Hey, friend, I really like your hair, did you do something different…?” He asks trying to distract James. “You know what, yea actually I did- wait! You can’t do that! I need an answer to this rumor I’ve just heard. What is it about me and her-“ he turns and points to me, “-dating!?” He says.

“Well, I know you like her and I found out that she likes you too, so I thought I should just tell… Mary and Dorcas that you guys were dating…” Sirius quickly explained. My brows furrowed concerned. “The biggest gossipers in the school!? You told them!?” I yelled at him. He smiled nervously and nodded scared. My fists balled together as I took a deep breath in and out. I see James roll his eyes and smack his forehead.

“We’ll talk about this later.” James told Sirius seriously as he nodded scared and ran off with Remus and Lily. “I’m so sorry about him, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you.” He turns to me and looks down. I look at him sadly. “Yea me too…” I say still looking at him. This was kind of funny actually. I start laughing and his head whips up to me and then he starts to laugh with me.

He then walks closer to me. “So maybe, on the next hogsmeade trip, you would want to go with me to Three Broomsticks? Like for a date?” He says hopefully. I pretend to think, tapping my finger on my chin, he gives me a ‘are you serious?’ look. I giggle and nod to his question. “Okay, so I’ll find you before and we can go, but right now I have to get to class to I can go. Minnie gives mean detention, could make me stay.” He says walking backward toward his class. Right before he turns around, he winks at me. I turn and almost scream like a little girl.

I run to my class, and sit next to Pandora, I tell her all about it with butterflies in my stomach. I had a real date this weekend, with an amazing guy that I really like.

[crowsofdarkness]

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter One

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

The sounds of birds chirping outside our home and the warmth of the body next to me was what slowly raised me out of my slumber. Groaning, I buried my face deeper into the bare chest but felt it vibrate in laughter. 

“We can’t stay in bed all day again, doll.” Bucky’s tired voice breathed in my ear. 

“I’m tired,” I whined, gripping him tighter. 

Bucky laughed again before brushing his lips over my forehead. “The goats need to eat.” 

Reluctantly I let him rise out of bed and marveled at the way the muscles moved in his back as he slowly rose. His bones clicked into place when he stood to his feet and with his arm, he threw on a shirt. 

I peaked over to the nub of his left arm while he covered it with a sling and my heart dropped, knowing how he truly felt about it. He was fine with it in the beginning, taking awhile to get used to only having one arm, but now two years later I knew that it was bothering him. Bucky felt like he couldn’t do what he used to be able to do and it would aggravate him. 

Never once did I complain about it, he knew exactly how to please me even with one hand. 

“Are you going to stare at my ass all morning or are you going to get out of bed?” Bucky joked while turning to face me. 

“But I’m cold,” I giggled while showing him my naked form underneath the sheets.

His eyes darkened with lust and I knew I was seconds away from having him back in bed with me. 

Suddenly I sat up in bed with a start, clutching the sheets closer to my bare body. I was filled with a sudden urge to fight, something that wasn't coming from Bucky. It was a feeling that I hadn’t felt in years and I was afraid to find out why I was feeling like this. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked. 

“I have this weird feeling,” I admitted. 

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed next to me and moved the hair out of my face. 

“About what?” 

“I don’t know. Something’s going to happen soon but I don’t know what.” 

Our lips met in a quick kiss before Bucky pulled me to my feet out of bed. 

“No use dwelling in it, doll. Let’s feed the goats then talk a walk,” Bucky suggested. 

Reluctantly, I nodded with a sigh. I knew he was right. I couldn’t dwell on this feeling when I didn’t even know if it was truly something to worry about. 

While Bucky stepped outside, I dared a quick glance over to the burner cell phone that rested on our table. It hadn’t made one noise in the two years that it laid on that exact spot. There was only one number programmed in it and before I could stop myself, I sent a quick message to that number. 

Checking in on you and if everything is alright. Can’t shake the feeling that something is coming. 

“Doll?” Bucky called from outside. 

“Coming!” I yelled, tossing the phone onto the bed. 

I had missed the new message that appeared on the screen. 

Bucky tossed a pile of hay over towards the side of our hut while I chased the goats towards their pen for the evening. The Wakanda air had chilled, letting us know that night was fast approaching. The fire next to me was dying down so after tossing a few logs onto it, I looked over towards Bucky. 

“You know you could start that fire again with a quick snap,” He reminded me. 

Immediately I shook my head. “Not needed.” 

After Bucky and I settled in our new lives, I promised myself that I wouldn’t use my powers. I wanted some sense of normality in our lives.

Bucky’s lips parted to speak but when he noticed the way my body froze while looking over his shoulder, he followed my gaze and knew what caused me to freeze. 

T’challa and Okoye were walking over the hill towards us, a very large case in hand. 

We hadn’t seen them in over two years, only ever seeing Shuri. She would occasionally come to check in on us, mostly Bucky, so when I watched as T’challa walked closer towards us I knew that the feeling I had was true. 

Something was coming. 

T’challa gave us a small smile while placing the case in front of us and clicked it open. Inside was something that Bucky never thought he would see again. 

A brand new arm made completely of vibranium. 

Bucky’s mouth fell open, staring at the flash of vibranium. His shoulders tensed and the feeling of fight filled my veins. 

“Where’s the fight?” Bucky questioned. 

“On it’s way,” T’challa admitted. 

“How does it feel?” I questioned. 

Bucky raised the new arm a few times and clenched his fist over and over again. 

“Honestly, amazing,” He admitted. 

I gave him my best fake smile before busying myself again with pulling out a lock box from underneath our bed. Inside were all of our knives, something I never thought I would need again. 

T’challa had said that a new threat was on it’s way towards us, ready to destroy our universe, and his name was Thanos. 

Thanos was on a mission to collect all six infinity stones and if he found all of them, he would be able to erase half of the universe with a snap of his fingers. His alien army was on earth to find two of the stones that were hiding here. The time stone was in New York with a Dr. Strange and the Mind Stone was with a very familiar face. 

Vision. 

Thanos already had two of the stones, meaning that he was close to completing his mission. 

To say I was secretly afraid was an understatement. 

T’challa had also mentioned that we would be seeing some old friends of ours really soon; Wanda, Vision, Sam, Nat, and Steve. 

They fought some of Thanos' army in Scotland causing Vision to get hurt in the fight. They were all their way to us, hoping that Shuri could create a new stone for Vision so that we could destroy the Mind Stone. It was a long shot, even I knew that, but if there was even a slight chance to save Vision and the universe, Steve would do whatever it took. 

At the thought of Steve, I reached for the phone in front of me. 

I’ll be seeing you soon. We’ve missed you. 

“Y/N?” 

Quickly pocketing the phone in my suit, I gave Bucky my full attention. 

“How’re you feeling?” He asked, pulling me into his embrace. 

I rested my cheek against his chest and snaked my arms around him. 

“I’m scared. This fight seems too big for us.” 

“I know,” Bucky sighed. “But Steve needs our help. He wouldn’t be coming to us if he didn’t.” 

It was my turn to agree. “I know.” 

We shared a kiss, our lips moving in sync for a few moments, and when Bucky pulled away we rested our foreheads together. 

“No matter what happens, doll, I will always love you,” Bucky declared. 

“I love you too, Bucky,” I breathed while placing a kiss on his plump lips. 

We were interrupted by the sound of a loud jet descending from the sky, and suddenly, the life that Bucky and I had created the last two years vanished beneath us metaphorically. I knew that no matter the outcome of this fight that we were about to face, nothing would ever be the same.

[k1ttycrush]

Lies

Starting off the first day of the month of love with an angsty break up one shot

Enjoy

The sun shone throw the large windows in the stone corridor as Sirius practically skipped down the long hallway. He was going to meet Remus, a thought that made his stomach squirm with anticipation a little bit. He could hardly keep the smile from his lips.

His face lit up as Remus came to view at the end of the hallway. He leaned heavily on his cane, but he still brought up his hand to wave him over with a pained smile.

“Hey, you!” Sirius said fondly, pressing a kiss to the other’s lip and placing a hand on his scarred cheek. Remus laid his hand on his.

There was a sad little crook in his eyebrow, Sirius noticed as he backed away from the kiss, keeping his hand on his cheek. Remus was not smiling either, in fact he looked troubled. Pained.

“Hey, hey, what’s with the sad face?” Sirius asked gently. He tried to lift his hand to smooth out Remus’ forehead, but Remus’ hand kept his pinned.

Remus swallowed nervously. “We should stop seeing eachother.”

Alarm bells blared in Sirius’ mind.

He backed defensively in shock, ripping his hand away from his lover’s face.

“Remus, what brought this on?”

Remus lifted his hand to gesture to himself. “You know why. You know what I am. Look at me Sirius.”

“You know that I never cared for-“ He couldn’t bring himself to say it, the words felt dirty and wrong in his mouth. “Your- your condition.”

Remus took in a deep breath. “Yes, but I care.”

“That’s ridiculous” Sirius spat.

“Oh is it!?” Remus shouted, the pain from the moon made him feel very much like a time bomb on the verge of exploding. And now, his short fuse was reaching its limit. “Must I spell it out for you Sirius?!” He gestured to his cane. “I’m a freak! I’m a defect, a fucking monster!”

“No-“

“Don’t you try to deny it because you know it’s true.”

“But-“

“My mind is made up.” Remus turned away hotly, unable to face Sirius knowing that miserable, angry, dejected look on his face was caused by him. “Please…just go.”

Just then, Sirius angrily stormed up to the man he loved. He yanked him by the collar down to his level, despite being much shorter. Simmering hurt and anger bubbled within Sirius, his skin itched with sadness and with every word from Remus’ mouth his heart cracked more and more to the point it was unbearable.

“That’s not something you decide alone!” Sirius snarled, his blood hot and pumping in his ears. “Listen, Moony, don’t do this to me. I won’t be able to forgive you.”

“Siriu-“

“No, no you listen to me now. It’s my turn. You listen to me now Remus John Lupin!” He snapped, he didn’t even care about the look of hurt that flashed within Remus’ eyes. “I don’t care what you say you are. You could look like a bumbling troll, but I love you. I love you so much Remus, nothing is going to change that. Don’t leave me, please.”

His voice grew softer, pleading, as if coaxing a frightened kitten from under a bed. Sirius tried to press a gentle kiss to Remus’ lips, and Remus froze.

He had Sirius-fucking Black begging him. In fact, begging for him to stay. He tried for so long to let him just have this. Let him love a boy and have that boy love him back, but he can’t. he just can’t! Years of self-hate compressed deep inside him swirled around deep in his belly, and the guilt took over.

Remus forced himself to roughly push Sirius away, and the other boy sputtered in confusion.

“I never loved you Sirius.” Remus lied. Part of himself protested but he just knew it had to be done. No matter how painful it was, he knew they couldn’t be together.

Sirius’ face twisted in hurt and anger. “Don’t you dare say that! Don’t you dare say you didn’t love me.” He yelled. “Because you know damn well you did. We were amazing together. So fucking perfect. So what’s this about? Huh?!? What is with the stupid fucking self deprecation that makes you want to burst this beautiful bubble we have?”

“You’re wrong, Black.” Remus spat his last name like an insult, and he tried to ignore the little twang of guilt in his gut at the way Sirius flinched. “We aren’t perfect, maybe you think so, but I don’t. I never did, even from the beginning, when I was taken in by you and James and Peter as the local charity case. The thuggish orphan boy who needed a place to ‘belong’.”

Sirius was deathly quiet then, a dangerous edge in his voice. “Remus, why can’t you let yourself be happy for once in your life?”

Remus’ neck tightened at the question. He straightened ever so slightly, despite his back’s protest of pain.

“If you leave right now, you’ll break my heart. And I don’t know if you’ll be able to put it back together.” Sirius warned.

Remus took a deep, steadying breath, before turning his body to the side. “Good bye, Sirius.”

And he limped away, his grip on his cane so tight his knuckles turned white, leaving Sirius to grapple with the aftereffects of a broken heart.

(Psst! Hey!! Feel free to support my ao3, where I write more fics about my favorite ships! You can find it in my bio :))

[inellz]

「 ✦ after the storm ✦ 」

quackity x reader

The rain had stopped in your city. You and Quackity have been together for 3 years ever since your friend, Roier, introduced him to you. You shoved your arms into your coat, yanking the front door open with more force than necessary. You both had a heated argument, and the argument had been bad. Worse than usual. Quackity’s voice, sharp and angry, still rang in your ears. You had tried to explain yourself, but the frustration in his eyes—paired with the way his voice rose—made something inside you crumble. You hated being yelled at. He knew that. And yet, in the heat of the moment, he had forgotten. All you knew was that you needed to get out, away from the suffocating tension.

So you left.

In the middle of the night.

The rain had just stopped, leaving the world drenched in silver, the streets shimmering beneath dim streetlights. You wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, heading toward the park. It was only 9 minutes away from your shared house with Quackity, and It was quiet, empty, save for the occasional rustling of wet leaves in the breeze.

You breathed deeply, trying to steady your racing heart. What was supposed to be a simple conversation spiraled into accusations, voices raised and words you couldn’t take back. You sank onto a bench, head in your hands. The fight replayed in your mind on an endless loop. Maybe you had been wrong. Maybe he had. Maybe it didn’t even matter anymore—you just felt exhausted and tired.

Then, as if the universe had a cruel sense of humor, the rain started again.

A cold drop landed on your cheek, then another, until the sky opened up again. You cursed softly, “oh come on, what the fuck” wrapping your arms around yourself, but made no move to run for cover. Maybe you deserved this—to feel the chill, to drown out the argument with the sound of rain.

But then—

A shadow loomed over you, blocking the rain. You looked up, blinking through wet lashes, and found Quackity holding an umbrella, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes softening the moment they met yours.

Quackity.

He stood there, an umbrella held above you both, his free hand gripping the handle so tightly that his knuckles were white. His hair was damp from the rain, sticking to his forehead, but his eyes—his eyes held nothing but guilt and concern.

“I knew you’d come here,” he murmured, his voice softer now, gentler. “I—I didn’t want you to be alone.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Why are you here?”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening slightly around the umbrella. “Because I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” His voice was barely above a whisper now. “I know you hate that. And I still did it. That wasn’t fair to you.”

The cold in your chest cracked just a little.

You looked away, exhaling shakily. “I didn’t mean to make you mad. I just… I don’t know.”

“I know,” he said, inching a little closer, the umbrella shifting slightly to make sure you were covered. “I just—sometimes I get so caught up in everything that I forget to just stop and listen. That’s on me.”

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t heavy anymore.

His voice wavered when he spoke again. “Please don’t run off like that again.”

You looked at him then, taking in the worry etched into his face, the way his lips pressed together like he was holding something back. His shoulders, usually squared with confidence, were tense—uncertain.

“…You were watching me?” you asked softly.

His ears tinged red, and he cleared his throat. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” His voice dropped, barely audible over the rain. “I didn’t want you to feel alone.”

The fight suddenly felt like a distant memory. He was here. In the rain, with you, because he cared.

Your chest ached in a different way now.

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Making sure you don’t get sick,” he said quietly.

The walk back was silent, the rain pattering gently against the umbrella. You stayed close to his side, warmth radiating from him despite the chill in the air.

Quackity stopped, turning to face you fully. His eyes, usually bright with mischief, were now clouded with regret. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I know you hate that.”

Your breath hitched, emotions threatening to spill over again. You looked away, blinking rapidly. “You scared me,” you admitted. “I didn’t expect you to get so angry.”

He swallowed hard, his free hand reaching out, hovering uncertainly before gently cupping your cheek. “I was an idiot. I just… I didn’t mean to lose it like that.” His thumb brushed away a stray raindrop—or maybe a tear. “Please don’t run off like that again. I can’t—” He exhaled shakily. “I can’t lose you.”

The sincerity in his voice cracked something inside you. Slowly, you leaned into his touch, letting his warmth seep through the cold. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have walked out.”

Slowly, hesitantly, you reached for his hand—the one gripping the umbrella—and laced your fingers together. His breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away.

“Let’s go home,” you murmured.

Quackity nodded, squeezing your hand lightly. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Let’s go home.”

[frozenjokes]

the devil fosters kittens and hires exorbitantly expensive prostitution

ao3 link - this fic is rated mature on ao3. please mind the ao3 tags

Grian stood hunched over the door knob, grip tight enough to crack the handle, shaking, veins bulging. This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening. Left alone for months- Why now?

Mumbo’s fingers were curled over Grian’s shoulder, grabbing him, shaking him, he was speaking, yelling, but it was long before the words came into focus.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!? Grian!”

Did he see it? Did Mumbo understand when Grian turned his head, looked up, did he know Grian’s fear? Had he ever seen Grian this way, petrified, moved to action by fear deeper than instinct, locked in horrible, hopeless infatuation. Grian could not name the feeling; to say romantic felt shallow, not enough, his obsession rooted further in Mumbo’s potential, his creativity, his prowess, the unrelenting love he had to give for the world in which they lived; did no one understand just how much was at stake here? Devastating could not scratch the surface of this loss, Grian could not let Mumbo be surrendered to his heritage, not when it was so clear that every person touched by Mumbo’s light was better for it.

Grian was better for it. Mumbo made him better.

“I’m afraid,” he said, and of course it was true. Because this was a battle Grian was not sure he could win. For all his willpower, he could not make Mumbo reject the call to blood. For all his longing to cover Mumbo’s eyes, take it all away, and bear it himself, this was not Grian’s burden to carry. Mumbo had to make the choice. No amount of setting him up for success could save him from the wrong path.

Grian did not want to kill him. He didn’t believe Mumbo was beyond saving, not yet, but he- he wouldn’t let Mumbo become a puppet, either. If anyone was going to snuff the light, there would be no unnecessary pain. Mumbo was a good man, and that legacy would be preserved.

“I- I know you don’t like the assassination business coming home, Grian,” Mumbo tried, and he was really trying, his own frustrations aside. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to come home to that, but it really wasn’t what it looked like. Cub wasn’t- I was trying to make him leave, I didn’t want him here either, and I promise I have no idea how he found our address, but he was- I don’t know, intoxicated? He was saying all sorts of crazy shit, he was really distressed, and I think I offended him and I couldn’t just send him away. I.. Maybe I should have done it anyway. I kind of panicked. He was genuinely hurt, I think so at least. He asked me to cut his hair and I- I panicked, like I said I just.. did it. I still don’t really know what he wanted, but he wasn’t here to hurt me or you. I really believe that.”

Grian didn’t believe it. He didn’t believe it for a second, not when Cub’s will was tied intrinsically to Scar’s, whether Cub was aware of it or not. Cub was a victim, but not anyone that could be saved, not anymore. The fact that he was here at all was- it was-

But Mumbo didn’t know. There was no way he could have known, and maybe the worst part was that Mumbo was only acting so unapologetically himself, Grian had nothing to blame him for. He took in a stranger. Cut his hair.

If this had not been an act, if a victim was still in there, then this was just another life Mumbo had touched, a life far more unfortunate than his own.

“I’m sorry,” Grian breathed, air coming scarce from his lungs, “I didn’t know. You did a good thing.”

Mumbo released a long breath, one Grian suspected he’d been holding in the lengthy pause between his own words and Grian’s answer. “Is he still there?”

Grian tensed, hand sweating on the handle, but after a few moments hesitation he pulled the door back regardless, just a crack. No one was there. He did not have to report; Mumbo saw it too. Grian closed the door.

“There’s something else I need to tell you. To explain this. I should have told you a lot sooner, but you were really hurt, and the amnesia was so bad for weeks, even with treatment and I-“

“Grian, what is it?” Mumbo’s brow was tight, and Grian pursed his lips in recognition.

“There was another man at the hospital, he came to pick Cub up, insisted he introduce himself to you, do you remember? It’s alright if you don’t.”

Mumbo thought for a moment, but seemed to recognize quickly there was no point. “I don’t really remember anything until a few weeks later.”

“I know,” Grian mumbled, if for no other reason but to acknowledge. Those were.. a really frightening first few days, better in the following weeks, but even now, Mumbo still struggled with his short term memory, and it’s likely he’d carry that for the rest of his life. It hurt, fuck it hurt, that Grian couldn’t prevent an injury so severe so young. It wasn’t fair, not fair to Mumbo, but it took all of Grian’s strength just to keep Mumbo from chasing this horrific assassin fixation. At least five concussions put a stop to that.. for now.

“Well, when I was waiting for you, the man who came for Cub was next to me, and apparently Cub had texted him, told him everything, and he was- I don’t even know if he was angry, but he must have a part in the hits Cub is assigned, because he kept threatening me, threatening you, and I was afraid to move, I thought he might just shoot me right there, I don’t know, I was so scared and he was so quiet, I couldn’t do anything. It’s been such a long time, I just assumed things had blown over, but.. I just freaked out, seeing Cub. I’m still- I’m really freaking out, Mumbo.”

Mumbo blinked a few times in rapid succession, mouth slightly agape. “Oh, fuck. Oh my god, Grian, you should have told me- I’m not mad, I- of course not-“ Mumbo stopped, pulling Grian away from the door and into a firm hug. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know. You did a good thing, Mumbo.”

“I’ll keep a better eye. I promise. I didn’t.. I’m sorry you got dragged into this. I wish- I wanted this to be separate, but I know that’s.. stupid.”

A heavy sadness weighed on Grian’s chest, and he pushed his head into Mumbo’s shoulder, zeroing his focus on his friend’s still-beating heart. “You were upfront with me. I knew what I was getting into.” And he did. God, Mumbo had no idea the extent of it.

“I know,” Mumbo mumbled, resting his chin on Grian’s head. “Guess I just want it all.”

“We’ll get through it, Mumbo. We’ll make it through.” Grian hoped he managed to push an ounce of confidence through, though no facade could keep himself from wavering. Really, he wasn’t fooling anyone. Mumbo knew Grian’s misery as well as his own.

///

Cub thought the couch was a good addition to the cat room in the clownvent; sure, all the fostered kittens were just going to destroy it, but now Cub could experience his depression spiral in new and improved comfort, while Scar went about seeing how many four week old kittens he could stack on Cub’s back. Previous record was twelve, and Scar had set himself up for success by feeding the little bastards before putting them to bed on top of Cub, really coaxing them into sleep after a nice meal. So far, Scar had managed nine; there were fourteen current fosters at the clownvent, so the record was well within reach.

Scar crossed his legs, readjusting the kitten he was bottle feeding in his lap. It didn’t seem to mind at all, much more focused on the bottle it was affixed to and kneading into Scar’s pants.

“You know, the orphans at this age can be such a pain in the ass, especially when there’s this many, but when they’re all grown up, I find myself missing it, you know? I mean look at their itty bitty ears, Cub, they’re so damn cute I just can’t even stand it. Even when it’s the middle of the night and I have a bottle-baby shift and I’m ready to end it all. Good thing Skizz has a thing for clowns, or I think we’d all give up taking in the little ones who can’t eat yet. It gets to you! These little cretins have been a delight though, a delight. Are you sure you don’t want to feed the next one? It’s healing, it really is. You don’t even need two hands, they just sit here like angels!”

“No thanks,” Cub mumbled, turning back to lay face down into the pillow. He kinda wanted to roll over, but then Scar would lose progress on his stacking endeavors. And suddenly, like a divine reminder floating down from the heavens, Cub remembered he did not care.

Scar’s screech was immaculate, the kitten avalanche even better, all nine of them tumbling off him with startled mews and flailing paws. He felt the pinpricks of a set of claws through his shirt, and leaned back to grab it, pulling the startled kitten back into the cave of his body against the back couch cushions. It squirmed a little, alarmed, but by now these things had been manhandled to hell and back, and being scooped up by massive human paws was just a matter of life. It settled on Cub’s new cast, purring.

“Cuuuub! What have you done! They were sound asleep, you monster!”

“So sad..”

“You act like you have no control over yourself! Oohhhh you’re lucky I’ve got a kitten in my lap right now or I’d really be angry. This little monster is having the best meal of his life, and I will not take that away from him.”

“Capital punishment for whoever shat all over the wall. This is what they get.”

“Noooo! You didn’t even have to clean that up, you don’t get a say. I only sent you that picture because I have no idea how they managed it, I’m imagining kitten handstands and diarrhea explosions. They have done nothing wrong.”

“I have a fundamental problem with any shit from any creature being smeared on a perfectly good wall.”

“Well I have a fundamental problem with you!”

“Ditto.”

Scar paused, quiet enough that Cub could hear the kitten in his lap sucking the last dregs of milk from its bottle. “You don’t really mean that though, do you?”

Cub rolled his eyes. “With you being what you are, I never wouldn’t have guessed you to be sensitive.”

“Well I’m just saying, you having a fundamental problem with me would basically be the same as you having a fundamental problem with yourself, so.. checkmate!” Scar released the kitten he was feeding in favor for the next in line, and only noticed Cub craning his neck to Look at him belatedly. Scar’s whole expression dropped, a clear sign he’d gotten the memo, so Cub turned back around.

“Noooo! Cub! Noooooooo!” Suddenly there were a lot more kittens being piled on Cub’s side, crawling all over the place, which, to Scar’s credit, was mildly delightful. “Cub, you’ve always had this grand capacity to care about other people, and it’s a lovely look on you, really, but it makes you so, so sad!”

Cub felt Scar’s hand on his shoulder, and the touch was not unwelcome, but sometimes Cub wondered if this was only a result of their connection. Would he still crave Scar so wholly if he had never descended those stairs?

“It’s a curse, isn’t it. To be human. I wish I could take it away from you, but that’s life, isn’t it.. It’s been a rough couple months, I know, but my hope is that it’ll only be a few more before you’re raring to go again, right? I mean, retirement is an option as well, and maybe you’d thrive away from the action, but in my experience.. Well, you all don’t do so well. Try as I might, humans are just so temporary. I’d just hate to lose you like this. Maybe I’m speaking too soon- concussions are just nasty business! I’ve seen far too many never bounce back. You’ve got alright resistance to going stir crazy though, you might be alright.”

“That’s not what’s bothering me.” Cub couldn’t help but interrupt before he went on and on, he didn’t care, and he didn’t need Scar pretending he did either. “Why- I want to know what you are. What you’re doing here, where you come from. I want to go there.”

Scar was quiet, and Cub could feel the gears in his mind churning, wondering just how many times he could dance around this topic before he finally answered the damn questions.

“I don’t understand your fixation on specific, concrete, concepts. It’s a human impulse, I understand, but you have no need to hold on to it. You have blood to drink and skin to tear, your most important needs are met.”

“Where do you come from?”

“This has always been my home.”

“What are you!?”

Over Cub’s shoulder, he saw the shadow of a cocked head, “I’m Scar.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I’ve always been Scar. I don’t know what else to say. There are other scars, I know that to be true, but they are not me. A symptom of life.”

“If you actually cared, then why’d you let me break myself when you knew I’d escape. I hurt myself, when you could have just told me you wanted me to go to Mumbo’s fucking house and I would have done it. For you. Instead you fucked with my head. You made me go under the guise I had a choice.”

“Ah.” Scar considered Cub for a long moment, eyes boring into his back. Cub said nothing, only curling tighter around his kitten. “Well, I didn’t want you to gallivant off on my behalf. I wanted you to go on yours. It’s no fun being a puppet master, Cub, and you’re not a goon. I can be a guiding thought, but I don’t control where you go with it. Part of the appeal is watching what happens. So no, I did not know you would break your wrist to slip the chain. But I didn’t reinforce the locks on the door. And I did hope you’d act. I did not have to steer you very far, if it’s any reassurance. Just a few nights in your head, and your subconscious did the rest. You may have even gotten there alone with time, but I’m tired of waiting. Aren’t you? Besides, the worst of this break should heal in line with your concussions, you haven’t been set back.”

Scar did not hide himself, he never did, not even when Cub was waiting for him to deny what he’d done, poised to snap on his silver tongue and rip it clean off. Scar did not feel shame, or at the very least, Cub didn’t think so. He had less of a semblance of right and wrong and more of a feel for whether or not the thing he was planning on doing was going to piss all his friends off, which, had no impact on Scar’s decision making, only how he reacted to the clapback.

It still. Hurt. Somehow, after eight years of this, it still hurt.

“What’s your endgame. With Mumbo. How do you get your way.”

Scar readjusted, the chair creaking as he leaned back. As far as Scar was concerned, Cub’s outburst was over. The resistance was dealt with. Maybe he was right, too; it’s not like Cub was going to act against him, even now. Especially now.

Scar answered civilly.

“Mumbo is more put together than most. His anchor keeps a short leash, but that’s not necessarily the worst case. Mumbo is deprived. He takes what he wants despite outside influence, which is very good, but whatever charm is keeping him shackled is the biggest problem. That’s not an easy spell to upkeep mind you, and that Grian is weak. He’s tired. Doubt I’d even have to kill the body to break it, I can’t see how Grian has enough energy to maintain himself and control Mumbo as it is- but I don’t want to.”

Scar paused, waiting for input, validation. Cub gave him nothing.

“I want Mumbo to do it! Obviously! I want them both in the ring, and I want Mumbo to rip Grian’s head off his shoulders.” Scar sighed, long and forlorn, “Fuck, he’d have to really snap though, wouldn’t he. I mean, I could push anyone to the brink of madness and let them topple off the edge themselves, but I don’t know if I’m looking to house a berserker right now. Lately, I’ve really been enjoying the company of friends! But I’m not married to any happy ending. Personally, I’d fly to the sun and back to get my claws in that prude. We’ll see.”

“Maybe I want your claws in me instead.” Cub couldn’t help but lift his head, Scar’s eyes meeting his, piercing and smug.

“Can’t stand to hear me yapping so much about anyone else, hm? I see you.”

“You owe me this.”

Scar snorted a short laugh, lurching forward in the next movement, grabbing Cub’s cheek and chin and wrenching his neck painfully to one side. “Someone’s getting a little ahead of himself, isn’t he. I own you. Now I’m going to finish up with these cats, and we can get a move on.”

///

The water was beautiful and endless, dark and blue and infinitely peaceful. Sometimes Grian saw coral reefs, endless fish and color, sometimes he saw orcas or dolphins, sometimes he swam with penguins, blinded by schools of silver fish. He never felt scared here, even when his movements were sluggish, or he couldn’t quite see. He remembered being frustrated, absolutely, but never scared.

It was a little disconcerting when with each passing breath, Grian took in less air. It wasn’t quite noticeable at first, but there was a point where his lungs just weren’t quite full, where the oxygen wasn’t being stolen, just crushed away, little by little. Grian had never drowned before. He pondered that as he floated here, suspended in endless blue. He didn’t particularly want to. He still wasn’t afraid.

Not until he opened his mouth, and the water forced its way in.

Grian gagged, jerking violently into its force when he couldn’t go backward, he couldn’t escape, his eyes shot open, face to face with a looming, dark silhouette. Grian coughed and hacked as the force withdrew, he could have thrown up and wouldn’t have known, spittle and drool coating the hand that clamped over his mouth.

“Shh, shhh, you’re fine. You’re fine, you’re fine, Gri, take a moment won’t you? Breathe. Just breathe.”

Grian tried to scream, but the pressure on his chest was too much, the grip over his mouth too tight. He thrashed, and was not nearly strong enough. Too tired, too disoriented, too weak. This was it. Everything he’d worked for; over.

“Maybe this was my fault..” Scar mused, Grian recognized the thing above him now, his terror only multiplying, “I was just trying to see if I could spot you down there, y’know, I’ve never seen one of you inside your host until I cut you open, and, well, there’s only so many holes you could be hiding! Please calm down, you’re hurting my feelings.”

He hated the whimper that ripped through his sore throat, as well as the pain that followed. Scar’s shape was coming into clearer form as Grian’s eyes adjusted to the dark, strong, calm, and unworried. Mumbo was sleeping in the room across the hall. Had he heard? Grian wished he was here, he needed someone, anyone to take this away. Scar did not move. He never looked away, his attention wholly captured by Grian’s utter terror.

“Can I trust you to be quiet, now? I’d like to let you go, but I don’t want anyone walking in on us, right? You don’t need Mumbo to run to your aid, only for him to find an empty room. Gosh, he’d think you’re crazy!” Scar let him sit with that for a moment, then loosened his grip, a test, before letting Grian’s face go completely.

Grian wiped his mouth. Scar smiled, hard to see, but there, perfectly innocent. How was it he managed to look so kind?

“You are not welcome in this house. You- You stay away. There is nothing for you here.”

“You know, I just don’t agree!” Scar mused, his exclamation whispered. He rocked on Grian’s chest, but stopped when Grian wheezed, as if that had been unintentional. “Such a big bark for someone your size. Does it make you feel better? Like you have more control?”

“I know what you want. Taunt me all you like, but I won’t just roll over and let you take it.”

“I’d hope not!” Scar unfolded his legs, nearly kicking Grian in the face as he rolled off his chest, settling instead beside him and stretching in an exaggerated yawn. “But I think I could really surprise you, y’know. I don’t want you to be so scared, not when we’re just talking, hanging out. I’ve had a thousand Mumbos over my time, and I’ll have a thousand more. You, on the other hand.. Now if we’re talking about things I want..”

“I have terms. What are yours.”

Scar blinked, sitting up as if Grian had zapped him. “What? Seriously?”

“What are your terms.” Grian lurched up, throwing his weight over Scar to straddle his stomach, and pushing the rest of him back down.

“Oh my,” Scar wouldn’t stop blinking, like he wasn’t certain the man above him was real. “You know, this is not what I was talking about, but I’m not uninterested,” Scar hummed, his fingers beginning to trail Grian’s thighs until he slapped them away.

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”

Scar shrank away, but Grian did not miss the small, astonished smile. “Yes, sir.”

“Since you’re so unwilling to tell me what you want, here’s what I’m after. You leave us alone. Forever. And you can have me any way you like. Any time you like, but never here.”

“My, my, you’re expensive, aren’t you? From where I’m sitting, it looks like you want me far too much to be making those high demands.”

Grian scoffed, and he might’ve spat in Scar’s face if he wasn’t so sure Scar would like it, “Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than imagining you waddling home with blue balls and your tail between your legs, rest assured, I’d see more stars than anyone else could punch out of me.”

Scar closed his eyes, relaxing against Grian’s bed with his chin ever so slightly inclined, “You’re not what I expected.”

“Can’t say I feel any differently. You can fidget all you want, I’ll only think you more desperate. Do you really get so little?”

“Not much like you.”

“Then let’s make this exchange final, why don’t we?”

Scar rolled his shoulders, eyes narrowed. “I’ll give you a month. No Scar, no anything.”

“A year.”

“Two months.”

“Six months is my final offer; suggest anything else, and I’ll leave you where you’re sat.”

“You drive a devilish bargain.”

“I’d choose my next words very carefully if I were you.”

“Go on, then. Just like this. But for six months I don’t expect this to be the only time I’ll be seeing you.”

Grian grabbed Scar’s face, fingers landing hard like a slap, thumb curling around his chin. Grian imagined it sinking inside, just as Scar had done to him, and ripping off his entire jaw. “Be good, and I’ll come find you.”

“I expect you’ll have me screaming.”

“With Mumbo in the next room over, you’d better not.”

“You sure he wouldn’t like to watch?”

“Shut up.” Grian wrenched Scar’s head to the side, his fantasies swirling visions of Scar limp, neck broken and bruised. “You won’t speak unless you’re prompted, and any noise you make will be choked out of you, understand?”

“Please.”

Grian withdrew his hand from Scar’s face only to rid himself of his own shirt, but he quite enjoyed the marks left by his nails. Here’s to many more.

[jkuniverz]

Ok, first long MSM post, let’s see how this goes.

Do you ever think about how all the Rare Core Seasonals follow a specific design principle? While the Commons are basic embodiments of whatever holiday they’re meant to represent, the Rares tend to take a negative aspect of that holiday and incorporate it into their design.

For example, let’s look at Punkleton for a second:

Pumpkin head, skeletal body, autumnal leaves decorating the neck and arms- yup, this sure is a Halloween Monster all right!

So what about Rare Punkleton then?

Well, since the poor guys’s head decomposes faster than usual, it dresses up in a paper bag to help hide itself from other Monsters. It’s taking the Halloween aspect of costumes and dressing up and using it to cover up this Monster’s insecurity, especially since it uses a brown paper bag to cover its head, which often in media represents embarrassment or shame at oneself.

I’m not sure if I did the *best* job at describing that, but looking at the other Rare Core Seasonals will hopefully better convey what I mean.

So, we’ve got:

-Rare Yool: based off of the Grinch and social outcasts

-Rare Schmoochle: have had conflicts and quarrels with one another

-Rare Blabbit: inversely steals Monster Eggs and covers its tracks well

-Rare Hoola: uses their extra hoop to distract Monsters while tricking them

…Ok, so the theme between them is a little loose, but hopefully you’re able to understand what I’m getting at. There’s some negative aspect to its respective holidays that the Rare Seasonals incorporate into its design and lore.

…but that’s just the Rare Core Seasonals. What about the Rare Auxiliary Seasonals? Do they follow this design principle as well?

Let’s take a look at the current 3 Rare Auxiliary Seasonals:

Rare Gobbleygourds have an indomitable will to try and fly- it’s all they really do. How this is supposed to be a negative aspect of Thanksgiving is… beyond me. Maybe it’s that it mirrors Gobbleygourd’s intense desire to feed everyone during Feast-Ember, but all Rare Gobbleygourd does it hurt itself? I don’t know.

All that we know about Rare Jam Boree is that it’s made of chocolate (or rather, chokkolit), and it may have something to do with poems, as it’s ingame Bio reads like one. Maybe Rare Jam Boree likes to write poems in celebration of events? It’s definitely a more deep and meaningful way to celebrate, by writing it down in contrast to plain partying, so there’s that.

Finally, there’s Rare Clavavera. I’m not too familiar with the Day of the Dead holiday, so I don’t really feel confident about pointing out any sort of reference it may have to its real life holiday equivalent. Though, it’s Bio does state that, “Unique to the Rare… is a special interest in writing of short, witty verses that poke light-hearted fun at those same ancestors”, so that may be the aspect of the Monster that fits with the Rare Seasonal theme?… though, I can’t say for sure.

It doesn’t look like the old Rare Seasonal design philosophy is being followed necessarily anymore, at least not with my analysis. Maybe it is, and I’m just not realizing it. Maybe there’s no such thing as a design theme with Rare Seasonals and I’m just a crazy man on the internet rambling about something that doesn’t matter. Regardless of that, I’m going to make small predictions for the next two Rare Aux Seasonals anyways that follow this probably made-up theme, and no one’s going to stop me.

The next Rare Seasonal to be released will be Rare Carillong, coming sometime soon. For it, I predict it to be based off of/poke fun at New Year Resolutions, and more specifically, how no one can ever follow them. The design would be more rugged and unkempt compared to the Common Carillong’s, maybe with frizzled hair, wear showing on the Chimekeeper, and so on. It’d be funny to imagine Rare Carillong as a hypocrite, preaching about turning over a new leaf and setting goals at the start of the year that it itself clearly doesn’t follow.

After that, we’ve got Rare Ffidyll, which I think would be cool if it were the unluckies Monster in the Monster World. Its nose can only sniff out disaster instead of money, it would look slightly beaten from all sorts of comical trouble it’s gotten in, and to show how unlucky it is, its clover hat would only have three petals.

Will these be accurate predictions for the next two Rare Aux Seasonals, following this theme I may have made up? Probably not. But it would be funny!

[imruination]

shadow and bone fans have me screaming

[covenofagatha]

Birthday Girl

On your 21st birthday, your friends drag you to a bar to get wasted when you decide it's a good idea to drunk-call Professor Agatha Harkness.

Word count: 3400+

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, intoxication, mentions of underage drinking, teacher x student (legal)

“One, two, three!” Wanda chants and you and your friends tap your shot glasses on the bar counter and quickly down them. 

You gasp at the burn and they laugh at you. It’s your 21st birthday and your best friends Wanda, Rio, and Natasha had dragged you out to the closest bar to get you wasted. They had all already turned 21 the year before; you were the baby in the group. 

“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” you groan. 

“Another round, please!” Rio motions to the bartender. He sets down four more tequila shots and one is shoved into your hand. 

“Think you can get to 21?” Wanda jokes and the thought of 20 more shots makes you want to gag. 

“I might puke after this one,” you say and your friends laugh. You were never a partier in high school or college, always preferring to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You’d only had some sips of alcohol a few times, but you had never been drunk. 

“You deserve this!” Nat shouts in your ear. “Harkness has been working you to the bone!” 

You shrug and wave your hand dismissively, suddenly uncomfortable. Agatha Harkness is your History of Witchcraft professor at Westview University. She’s known around campus for being cold to everyone and rarely giving out A’s. She expected nothing short of excellence and would not put up with excuses. Everyone was terrified of her. 

Everyone except for you. 

Something about the older woman captivated you. You were obsessed with meeting her standards, dreaming of the day she would look at you with pride. You poured over your books for her class, rereading every sentence you wrote thrice, just to try to impress her. It had taken your friends days of begging to convince you to come celebrate your birthday with them because you had a paper for Agatha’s class due in a week and you were already worried about it. 

“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” Wanda says. “I had her last semester and got a C in the class. Third highest grade. She’s the worst.” 

“She’s not that bad,” you defend, not quite sure why. Something about Agatha getting so much hate for pushing her students rubs you the wrong way. 

“Yeah she is,” Rio joins in. “I heard that she’s a real witch.”

You roll your eyes. “Can we please stop talking about her? I thought you guys brought me here to get away from school.” You take the shot that’s still in your hand and it goes down smoother this time. 

“Yes, there we go!” Rio whoops. 

Two more shots later and your head has gone completely fuzzy. You feel as if you are floating on air and everything around you is happening in slow motion. You get off your stool and immediately stumble, Wanda catching you with her arms. 

“I think I’m a little drunk,” you tell her. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“No shit, y/n, you don’t have to yell!” 

You didn’t even realize you had. “We should probably go back to the dorms!” You look around to see Nat chatting with some girl and Rio throwing darts at the board in the corner. 

“Not yet,” Wanda says, picking up her rum and coke. You’re not sure how she’s still drinking after she also did four tequila shots. “I’ll get you some water.” She signals to the bartender and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your vision to go back to normal. 

When you open them, you see dark hair in the corner. Is that–? You shift so you can get a better look and feel sorely disappointed when you realize the person is not Agatha. Why are you disappointed? The thought echoes in your head for a second, and then is replaced by a sudden urge to see your professor. 

“Drink this,” Wanda orders, pressing a glass of ice water into your hand, but you’re too busy scrolling through your phone. You know she put her number on the syllabus somewhere and you are too far gone to think that this might be a bad idea. 

You feel a thrill run through you when you find it. You read the number over and over, like you’re afraid it’s going to change somehow. 

“I’ll be back,” you slur to Wanda and then step out the side door into the alley. You type the number into your phone and your finger hesitates over the call button. You know you shouldn’t. But fuck it. You press the button and lift the phone to your ear. 

It rings. And then rings again. You’re about to hang up to spare yourself the rejection when the call connects. 

“Hello?” It’s actually her. 

Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up straighter. “Professor Harkness?” 

“Y/n? Is that you?” 

“Yeah.” Shit, this was a bad idea. Even with your head still swimming, you know that. You can’t just hang up though. 

“Why are you calling me at 10:30 on a Saturday night?” 

“Um,” you say, trying to think of something. You’re definitely going to have to drop her class after this. You’ll never be able to face her ever again. “It’s my birthday?” You offer lamely. 

Agatha scoffs. “Happy birthday. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, Professor, I just wanted – we’re at a bar – I thought you were – and just wanted to say hi,” you ramble, knowing you’re not making any sense, and you can almost hear her smirk through the phone. 

“Y/n, are you drunk right now?” Her voice perks up and it sounds like she’s finally interested. 

“No!” you protest. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m 21 now!” 

“What bar are you at?” 

“Jimmy’s.” It’s a local dive bar that is a popular place for Westview students to hang out at. 

“I’ll be there in ten. Wait out front.” There’s a click and then she’s gone. You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Is Agatha coming to pick you up? Why?

You walk back into the bar and order a Dirty Shirley. The call had sobered you up a bit and if you had already drunk-called your professor, why not get even more hammered. Wanda comes back over to you and giggles when she sees the new drink in your hand. 

“Alright, time to party!” she exclaims. You pick up on the fact that she’s a little drunk as well. You stand up, vision blurring for a second. 

“I actually called an uber,” you lie, even through your hazy mind knowing that your professor coming to pick you up might sound strange to them.

Wanda pouts and then throws her arms around you. “Happy birthday,” she says into your ear and your arms tighten around her. 

“Thank you,” you breathe back. You’re close with Rio and Nat as well, but they don’t have the same bond you and Wanda do. You pull back and then go say goodbye to your other friends. 

The wind outside does very little to sober you up and you shiver from the coldness. You’re wearing a purple crop-top and a black mini-skirt, something Nat had found buried deep in your closet. You watch the time on your phone, heartbeat picking up as it gets closer to ten minutes since Agatha had hung up on you. 

And then right on the dot, a slick black Range Rover pulls into the parking lot, and you immediately know it’s her. The car stops right in front of you, the passenger window rolling down, and your breath catches. 

It’s Professor Harkness, clad in a maroon suit, wavy hair falling over her shoulders. 

“Do you need me to open the door for you, too, princess?” Agatha says, sarcasm dripping over the words, when you haven’t moved. You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to clear the fog. You settle into the seat, not missing the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your skimpily clothed body.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” you mutter, putting real effort into not slurring your words. 

She glances at you and sees you struggling with your seatbelt. She reaches over and you freeze at her close proximity. Her breath is hot against your cheek and her fingers brush your stomach as she takes the seat belt from your hand and buckles it for you. “Thought I would spare the other people you drunk-called,” she says. 

Embarrassment runs through you. “You were the only one,” you say meekly, picking at a scab on your hand. You dare to peek at her, only to find her smirking, one eyebrow quirked. 

“Oh?”

“I shouldn’t have called.” This time, it’s harder to keep your words from running together. “We were talking about you and then I thought I saw you and I just wanted to see you.” You need to stop talking, now. 

Agatha hums. “Did you, now?” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears as she shifts the car into drive and you watch her fingers. 

“You’re really hot,” you blurt out and then clamp a hand over your mouth. Fuck. 

Instead of pulling over and making you get out, like you thought she would, Agatha simply reaches over and pats your leg. “And you’re really drunk, sweetheart.” 

The pet name makes you swoon inwardly. “Not that drunk,” you say unconvincingly. “I only had one…two…” You trail off, attempting to count the number of drinks on your fingers. Agatha stifles a chuckle. 

“Is this your first time drinking?” She asks, amused. 

“No, but it is my first time drinking this much,” you admit. “My friends dragged me out since it’s my birthday. I was going to work on the essay for your class.” 

“You were going to spend your 21st birthday doing school work?” 

“Your essay’s due in a week. I wanted to make sure I-it was good enough for you.” 

She notices your slip of tongue and her smirk sends heat down low in your stomach. “You’re always good for me. Your essays are some of the best I’ve ever read.” 

Your heart skips a beat and your face flushes. “I have a B in your class.” 

“You have an 88 in my class. That’s the highest I’ve had in years. Can’t make it too easy,” she says with a wink. 

“You could make it just a little easier,” you grumble, the alcohol clearly getting rid of any inhibitions. 

“You keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart, and it’ll go up, I promise. I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been turning in.”

A hot flash runs through you. “Just wanna be your good girl.” And if it wasn’t clear how you feel about her now, it sure is. But she doesn’t look disgusted or creeped out, only intrigued. 

She finally stops the car and you peer out the window, expecting to see your dorm. You haven’t been paying attention to where she’s been driving at all, and you’re quite surprised to see you’ve arrived at a two-story house in a cute, suburban neighborhood. 

“This isn’t where I live,” you say dumbly. 

“No, it’s not,” she agrees, getting out of the car and walking over to help you. You stumble up the steps to the front door, Agatha’s tight grip on your shoulder keeping you upright. You can feel her fingers playing with the ends of your hair. 

She unlocks the front door just as a wave of nausea hits you. “Oh, god,” you say weakly, holding a hand in front of your mouth. Agatha doesn’t even seem phased; she leads you to a bathroom in the hall and leaves, only to re-enter with a glass of water moments later. You gulp it down and feel better. 

“You okay?” she asks softly, stroking your cheek, eyes tracing up and down your face. You’ve never seen this side of her and you really like it. 

“I think so. Thank you again,” you murmur and you realize that you’ve been staring at her mouth. 

“Anything for my favorite student.” 

And then, because you’re apparently determined to fuck everything up even more, you lean in and press your lips to hers. Agatha stands still for a second before you pull back, horrified with yourself. 

“Professor, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–” 

She draws you back in for a longer kiss this time, tongue licking into your mouth. You let out a long moan and she breaks away. 

“You’re drunk,” she tells you again.

You clasp the lapels of her blazer. “I know. But I want you.” 

She softly pries your fingers off her suit and smiles. “You need to sleep. And then we can talk about this in the morning.” 

You pout and she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. You suck her finger into your mouth, delighting in the way her eyes darken. She steps back.

“Let’s go. You can sleep in the guest room. I’ll find you some pajamas and toiletries.” Her hand on the small of your back guides you up the stairs and to the room on the right. The guest room is simple but cozy and you immediately go to the bed and flop onto it. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” Agatha warns and then leaves the room. 

She comes back in a few minutes, an old shirt and sweatpants in one hand and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. She pats your legs in an effort to get you up but you can barely move, suddenly weighed down by all the drinks. 

“Come on, hon,” Agatha says and helps you stand up. You don’t move as she works to take your shirt and skirt off, your cheeks and upper chest flushing red. You try to cover yourself and she smirks. 

“M’sorry,” you mumble. 

“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view.” You stare at her longingly, silently begging her to fuck you right there and then, but she helps you step into the sweatpants and pull the shirt over your head. She watches you brush your teeth and moves the covers so you can get into bed. “Do you need anything else?” 

Your hand grabs hers. “Just you,” you try again hopefully, but she chuckles and wrenches free of your grip. 

“Good night, birthday girl,” she whispers and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. And then she turns off the lights and leaves the room.

You fall asleep immediately. 

***

Sunlight streams through the blinds, waking you up. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and then the events of last night come back to you. 

The bar. Four shots of tequila and half a Dirty Shirley. Calling Agatha and her coming to pick you up and taking you to her house. Kissing her in the downstairs bathroom. Shit. 

You groan, head pounding. You see a container of Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. You take two Advil and drain the glass, heart warming at the thought of Agatha taking such good care of you. 

And then you remember that your relationship with her will forever be complicated by your actions. 

You solemnly brush your teeth and pull back on the clothes you wore to the bar last night, neatly folding Agatha’s pajamas and placing them on the bed. You hope she hasn’t woken up yet so you can sneak out without her having to tell you how inappropriate you behaved last night. 

No such luck. The second you get downstairs, Agatha perks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the couch.

“Good morning, darling,” she purrs, shutting her computer. You gulp, taking her outfit in. She’s wearing a robe that ends mid-thigh and the neckline drops low. 

“Hey,” you say casually, trying to hide how much you’re internally freaking out. 

“Do you want something for breakfast? I can cook you something.” She stands up and walks to the kitchen and you follow like a lost puppy. You involuntarily lick your lips at the way her hips are swaying. 

“What are my options?” Your voice is raspy, still feeling hungover. She glances back at you and her eyes dart up and down your body. 

“I can make eggs. Bacon. I think I have pancake mix in the pantry. What would you like?” 

You’re a little confused that she hasn’t scolded you yet. And then you remember something else. She kissed you. 

You swallow hard. Whatever else you may have done last night that you can’t remember, she doesn’t hate you for it. She might even want you back. 

“Are you on the menu?” It comes out before you can even realize what you’re saying. 

Agatha freezes and turns around. You shift your weight nervously, but then you see her pupils blown out. Her eyes are so dark you can barely see any blue. “What?” She asks carefully.

“You kissed me last night,” you say, a little breathless. You have absolutely no idea where this confidence is coming from. “You wouldn’t do anything else cause I was drunk. But I’m not drunk now.” 

She steps toward you and roughly grasps your hair. She tilts your head back, exposing your neck just a tad. “No, you’re not.” She regards you for a second. “You know you’re not going to get extra credit for trying to sleep with your professor.” 

You laugh. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” 

She smirks. “Good.” And then she licks a hot stripe up your neck and bites down, sucking a mark on your skin. You gasp loudly and tangle your hands into her hair. 

“Professor,” you moan and you drag her into a filthy kiss. She backs you up until your thighs hit the table so she lifts you up onto it. Your legs wrap around her to pull her closer. Agatha pushes up your crop-top and kneads your breast, thumb stroking your nipple, never once breaking your kiss.

Her hand creeps under your skirt and cups your mound over your underwear. Your hips jump on their own at the stimulation. 

“Please,” you beg. Her lips curl into a smile. 

“What do you want?” Her fingers have pushed your underwear to the side and have started lazily stroking through your folds, spreading your wetness. 

“You,” is all you can say before she sinks a finger into your hole. 

“Like this?” She asks innocently, thrusting hard. 

“Yes,” you pant, quickly untying her robe so you can touch her. She’s completely naked underneath and you lean down so you can take a nipple into your mouth. 

“That’s perfect, baby,” she sighs, setting a relentless pace with her fingers after she slips another one in you. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you called me last night?”

“I’ve been hoping for this since the first day of the semester,” you answer, and she falters for a second, thrown off by your honesty. 

She pulls out of you and panic runs through you, terrified that you said the wrong thing. But she just pushes you down so your back is resting on the table and she pulls out one of the chairs from the table. 

“What are you–” Before you can finish your sentence, she leans forward and sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches off the table, hands rushing down to hold her in place. “Fuck, Professor!” 

She devours your pussy like she’s a starving woman, pulling all sorts of loud noises from you. 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, hips grinding on her face, trying to get the last bit of stimulation you need to send you over the edge. She knows what you need and presses her fingers inside you, curling them just right and gives your clit a hard last lick. You cum harder than you ever have before, her name on your lips like a prayer. She helps you ride through the aftershocks and then trails kisses up your body until she can kiss your mouth. 

“How was that?” she asks after you pull away to catch your breath. 

“That was probably the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” you say, which cracks both of you up. “But I’m not finished.” 

Her eyebrow quirks up and she smirks. “Oh?” You stand up, putting your hands on her hips and flipping her around so she’s leaning against the table. 

You sink to your knees in front of you, not even bothering with a chair. You slowly push her robe up so it bunches at her waist. “Can I return the favor?” 

A glint appears in her eye and she fists one of her hands in your hair preemptively. “I’d like nothing more.” 

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ pretty tipsy ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ he brings you home after a night out drinking┊2.5k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: alcohol & intoxication, this man is WHIPPED, age & size difference, emotional drunk human reader, ooc? calling him kitty

➤ author's note: idk what this is but it’s my longest logan piece yet because i have yet to write any more than a thousand words for him

tonight was one of the few nights logan could finally have some alone time. wade was going out for drinks with vanessa with the plan to stay over at her place, the ever so mysterious blind al was off doing her own thing, and mary puppins was resting peacefully in her little bed, tuckered out after a long day of playtime. he could finally get some long-awaited peace and quiet, a moment to himself to relax and breathe. while he’s grateful for the presence of others since he arrived in this dimension, he’s still a lone wolf at heart who treasures his privacy above all else.

humming a little tune from the eighties, he sunk into the beat-up leather couch with a beer in one hand and a lit cigar in the other, taking a long drag on it and preparing himself for a relaxing evening until his flip phone started ringing. when he opened it up to read the “wade wilson” contact name staring back at him, he rolled his eyes with a groan before answering.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“not even a ‘hello?’ damn bitch, okay then— well, we ran into some friends and had some drinks together, but one of them is pretty shit-faced right now and her phone is dead, could you pretty please with sugar on top come and pick her up?”

“the fuck? that’s not my problem, just call her an uber—” he stopped mid-sentence when he heard a familiar giggle in the background, one asking a different partygoer to have another drink with her, “is that the neighbor who lives at the end of the hallway?”

“yeah, it’s your little crush~! you recognize her from just her voice over the phone, oh my god, you have it bad wolfie!! well, if you don’t wanna come, then fine, whatever, but you know, it’s not unsafe for a pretty lady to be alone this late at night! some guy might just swoop her up, actually, there’s some guy asking for her number right now—”

“alright, alright, i’m coming! send me the address.” he nearly shouted into the receiver, putting out his cigar on the ashtray atop the coffee table and slipping on his jacket to leave the comfort of his shared apartment.

the night was chilly in comparison to the cozy warmth of the indoors and the bar was filled with loud chattering and cheers, the clinking of glasses, yelling at the game being televised, and the general buzz of extroverted fun on a weekend night. 

“ayyy, there he is! come here, peanut, sit, sit, sit, have a drink with us!”

logan hesitated, not because he would ever shy away from free booze but because he was here on a mission with one sole goal in mind (and because he wasn’t familiar with this particular group of people, he didn’t feel like socializing tonight) “no, it’s fine, i’m just here to take her home.” his voice was uncharacteristically mellow, finding you napping on the table with your arms folded to be a makeshift cushion for your head. 

you peeked at the man coming up next to you and your face changed from exhausted to ecstatic to upset in the span of a few seconds, “looggann!! how are you doing, i feel like i haven’t seen you in foreverr— how come every time i see you in the hall, you always run off, are you avoiding me? did i do something wrong?” you cling onto his hand and shake his arm, paying no attention to your friends giggling at your behavior in the background, pouting and tearing up. 

oh god, you’re an emotional drunk, that’s so cute. neither he nor wade could get drunk at all on account of their systems constantly cleaning out the effects of the alcohol as soon as it’s consumed, but when he drinks around others, it’s a trait he typically finds so annoying quickly becoming so endearing when worn by you.

“i’m not avoiding you, you haven’t done anything wrong,” he consoled in the most gentle voice a wolverine could muster, also cringing at the fact that he wasn’t half as discreet as he thought he was. it’s true, he has been avoiding you, but only because he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel, smoothing out the rough edges of his personality and making him feel stupid butterflies he was far too old to be feeling, not to mention the nonstop teasing from everyone else when they noticed the way he seemed to look at you from afar. it was as if he was a child who thought hiding from it would make it go away, but it has become apparent it has only grown stronger.

“you’re telling the truth?” you sniffled.

“yes, i am. come on, bub, let’s get you outta here. i’m here to take you home.”

you didn’t protest or try to convince him you weren’t wasted, knowing your limit had been reached, and slowly picked up your things to follow him out of the building. he allowed you to intertwine your arm with his, providing support to your unbalanced mind and stumbling legs since you couldn’t even walk straight.

“why would you drink so much if you’re such a lightweight?”

“how do you know i’m a lightweight? you weren’t there, i could have drunk an entire bathtub full of booze before you showed up!” 

“nah, i can smell it, there’s no way you drank anything more than a few pints.”

“oh, so the kitty is a dog now? i thought you were more cat-like this whole time, but i guess i was wrong.” 

“what?” they say what a person says when intoxicated comes from their soul and true thoughts with little to no filter, but he certainly wasn’t anticipating those words to come out of your mouth.

“you look like a kitty, you know? with the way your hair does the little swoopy things— do you wake up like that or do you need to style it? you act like one too, grumpy ass kitty.”

“don’t call me that, kid, i hear it enough from wade already.”

“i’ll stop calling you kitty when you stop calling me kid! i know you’re old as hell, but i’m a grown-ass adult!”

“yeah? well, you’re certainly not acting like one right now.”

you were silent for a minute, making him worry for a second that he offended you by calling you childish, but when he looked back down at you, you were simply staring in astonishment. “i’ve never seen you smile before! you look a lot more handsome, you should do it more often!”

was he smiling? he didn’t even notice, grinning ear to ear and revealing his pearly white teeth, chuckling at your ridiculous words. was this really the first time you saw him smile and heard him laugh? no wonder you assumed he was avoiding you, he was surprised you didn’t hate him just because of a misunderstanding.

it took some time to get you up all of the stairs to your floor without tripping, and logan was almost sad the night was over so quickly. even if the conversation was mostly one-sided and you were intoxicated with slurred words, he swears he listened to all you had to say between comedic bits, insightful knowledge, random bullshit, and found it all fascinating. luckily for him, his time with you wasn’t up yet as he watched you fumble with your purse and frown.

“oh, fuck… i lost my keys… oh no…” you slumped against the wall until you fell to the floor, feeling yourself starting to cry at this inconvenience with heightened emotions. 

“god, please don’t, not again…” he’s the absolute worst at comforting others, it isn’t his strong suit, and acknowledging this weakness seemed ten times more difficult when you were the one in need. “come on, you can sleep at my place for the night and charge your phone.”

“...really?”

“yes, come on.” 

you took his outreached hand and found yourself in his grasp again as he held onto your shoulder to steady you, unlocking the door and leading you into his shared apartment. he felt somewhat grateful that you were too drunk to notice how messy the site was, seating you on the couch as he got you a glass of water to sober up. you looked so out of place among it all, so young and feminine with your vibrant club clothing around all of the aging, scratched-up furniture and muted colors.

“thank you,” you murmur, downing the entire tall glass with a few gulps, “uh, where is the bathroom?” he directed you to where it was and allowed you to use it, quickly hearing you turn on the shower after a minute and just as quickly hearing you swearing in regret over the loud pitter-patter of the steaming hot water. “i’m never drinking again, why am i being so fucking stupid?!” 

“are you okay?” 

“yeah, except for the fact i forgot that i don’t have a change of clothes and i stepped into the shower with my current ones on because i forgot to take them off!” your voice cracked, feeling yourself starting to cry once again from yet another inconvenience. you were really just embarrassing yourself and couldn’t wait for this shitty day to be over.

he let out a sigh of relief, “god, don’t scare me like that— i’ll get you something, hold on, please don’t cry.” he could have stolen some of al’s clothing since she wouldn’t have noticed, or he could have stolen some of the clothes vanessa left behind after spending time with wade, but for some odd reason, he pulled out one of his canadian hockey jerseys for you. the fabric was soft and worn with time, smelling slightly of him and laundry detergent, and arguably the most comfortable thing he had at his disposal. “i’ll leave it outside the door, okay?”

“thank youu!!” (and thank god your underwear is still clean and dry enough to wear again, you have no idea what you would have done if you didn’t realize your mistake soon enough and stood under the water for long enough to be soaked to the bone.)

logan allowed his fatigued body to rest for a moment, sinking into the couch just as he did an hour ago in hopes of relaxation. what the fuck was he doing? since when did the wolverine play babysitter for drunk young women, walking them back to play guard dog against possible creepy men, letting them into his home, and lending them his clothing to wear? this was so uncharacteristic of him, he couldn’t think of a single person he was willing to do this for other than laura, but you certainly weren’t nearly as close to him as he was to her! lord, he’s so pathetic, he thinks he probably would have carried you back bridal style too if you asked him.

the water stopped and he waited for you to exit so that he could show you where you could sleep, but he could now see he didn’t need to. your apartment layouts are nearly identical, and it looks like your brain was switched onto autopilot after cleaning up, mindlessly strolling into his bedroom and plopping down on his mattress as if it were your own. (his shirt was practically a dress on you, falling to your mid-thigh and ill-fitted on your smaller frame, his eyes lingering on it for a second longer than what would have been polite.)

he leaned against the doorframe, watching you make yourself comfortable and preparing to stay there until the early afternoon with a banging headache. “are you comfortable? do you need anything else?”

you murmured something in response and stretched out your arms, making grabby hands and inviting him to join you, “come cuddle with me! herree, kitty, kitty, kitty~”

are you really calling a fifty-something-year-old, six-foot-tall killer mutant with adamantium bones and razor-sharp claws that come out of his knuckles ‘kitty’? yes, yes you are, and you’re going to scream into your pillow from embarrassment when you recall it the next day.

“i don’t do cuddles, princess,” he chuckled even though he intended to scoff. “and i already told you to quit calling me that.”

“pleaseee? pretty pleasee?” you chirped, eyes going big and round just like a puppy in a cartoon, begging him to humor you in this request.

are you truly a human, or are you secretly a mutant who has hypnotic powers? the answer is obvious, he’s just an old loser who apparently answers at your every beck and call now because all he could do is sigh, slip off his jacket, and get under the blanket with you. 

you rolled on your side and wrapped your arm around his body, nuzzling your face into his comforting touch and inhaling the mild scent of pine and tobacco. humming a satisfied “good night” and dozing off within a few minutes, you clung to him as tightly as a koala onto a branch, and he couldn’t separate himself from you without making you stir and whine. 

trapped in the embrace of a beautiful neighbor whom he possessed a soft spot for, wearing his clothing and laying in his bed, he would be trapped like this until morning it sounds like a dream to most men, but to logan, it’s the fear of getting attached and losing someone else important to him rearing its ugly head to the forefront of his mind. it scares him to think what could happen if he allowed himself this pleasure of becoming close to you, and yet when he admires your slumbering face, he feels like it would be okay and work itself out in the end somehow.

he fell asleep more quickly than usual when you held him, and for the first time in forever, he wasn’t tormented with horrid nightmares of the past that always plagued him before now. when he woke up, his weary soul was well-rested and energized, almost as if he was twenty years younger again. the wonders of a good night’s sleep, or perhaps, the wonders of being with you. 

it felt so… natural to wake up with you next to him.

you were practically a dead weight by now, not rousing in the least when he slowly got up to leave the bed. he did feel a little back about undoing the grasp you had on him though, felt a bit like abandoning you in a vulnerable state. he sauntered into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee as per his routine, only to find the most annoyingly loveable scarred face sitting in a chair waiting for him, legs crossed and hands in his lap like a supervillain. 

“sooooo, how was your night, you smitten kitten? you dirty dog!” there was a stupid smirk on his face, trying his best to hold back a fit of giggles. he knows nothing suggestive happened and was just teasing, but he still wanted to hear him say that it was a wonderful night nonetheless and to thank him for playing matchmaker.

“shut the fuck up before i stab you again. don’t ruin this morning for me.”

[dovesdreaming]

Breaking point

Summary: Mattheo gets into too many fights and reader has enough and calls off their relationship. However she is still the only person that can get through to him.

Masterlist

Warnings: none

-

The tension in the Slytherin common room had been growing for weeks. Whispers about Mattheo Riddle’s temper and the fights he kept getting into were spreading through Hogwarts like wildfire. You had always been the one to pull him back from the edge, the calming voice that stopped him mid-fight with just a touch or a few soft words. But lately, Mattheo had been slipping further and further away from you, consumed by anger he couldn’t control, and no matter what you did, it was as if your voice no longer reached him.

It was a late Friday evening when you found yourself yet again pulling Mattheo away from a confrontation with some Gryffindor seventh year. You could see the rage in his eyes, his fists clenched, ready to throw a punch that would surely land him another detention or worse. “Mattheo, please” you said, stepping between him and the other boy. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. “He’s not worth it. Just let it go”. Mattheo’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might listen. But then, with a harsh shove, he pushed past you, shouting insults as he launched himself at his opponent. The scene that followed was a blur of yells, fists, and teachers trying to pull them apart.

As you watched him get dragged away by Professor Snape, something inside you snapped. You had been his anchor for so long, always there to soothe his stormy temper, but he wouldn’t even listen to you anymore. You couldn’t keep doing this, being the only one holding on when he was so intent on self-destruction.

That night in the doorway of your dorm room you let it all out. He had come back after whatever had happened seeking your forgiveness like usual but you couldn’t let him back in this time. He was not only destroying himself, he was taking you with him. It had taken a toll on you and you couldn’t carry on like this.

“I can’t do this anymore, Mattheo!” you whisper yelled, your voice breaking as tears threatened to spill. Mattheo’s face fell, his bravado crumbling. “Y/N, don’t-“ “No, Mattheo! I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard to calm you down, to be there for you, but you don’t even care. You don’t care about me, about us!” Your voice cracked, and you hated how vulnerable you sounded. “I love you, but I can’t keep watching you hurt yourself. I can’t keep being the only one trying”.

The whole building seemed to go painfully quiet. Mattheo looked at you with wide, desperate eyes, his anger replaced with a deep, crushing sorrow. “Y/N, please-“ But you couldn’t bear it anymore. Shaking your head, you turned and closed your door, leaving him standing there alone.

The days that followed were miserable. Mattheo barely left his room, and when he did, he was a shadow of the boy you knew, pale, quiet, and heartbreakingly empty. Draco, Blaise, and Pansy tried to get through to him, but Mattheo’s door remained locked, and his mood only worsened. You weren’t much better, you threw yourself into your studies, trying to forget the hurt in Mattheo’s eyes when you walked away. But every corner of Hogwarts seemed to hold a memory of him, his laughter echoing in the dungeons, the way he’d pull you close in the common room, whispering secrets only you were meant to hear.

“You have to talk to him” Pansy said one afternoon, catching you in the library. Her voice was uncharacteristically gentle, eyes flickering with genuine concern. “He’s a mess without you. He’s not eating or taking care of himself” Pansy knew it was wrong to ask this of you but there was no one else that would be able to get through to Mattheo. You felt a pang in your chest, your anger giving way to concern. You hadn’t seen Mattheo in nearly a week, and the thought of him alone, suffering in silence, broke your heart. You hesitated, your pride battling against the concern gnawing at your heart. “Pansy, I-“. “He won’t listen to any of us. Not even Draco” she interrupted. “But he’ll listen to you. You’re the only one who can reach him”.

Taking a deep breath, you finally nodded, feeling the weight of what you were about to do. You made your way to the Slytherin boys’ dormitory, knocking softly on Mattheo’s door. There was no answer, just the faint sound of something shuffling inside. You tried again, louder this time. “Mattheo, it’s me”.

Silence stretched on, and just when you thought he wouldn’t respond and were about to turn to walk away, the door creaked open. He looked disheveled, his hair messier than usual, eyes red and swollen. He glanced at you, then away, shame and sadness evident in every line of his face. “What do you want?” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. You forced yourself through the crack in the door and stepped inside, closing the door gently behind you. “I just… I wanted to see you. Make sure you’re okay”. You looked at the ground not really knowing how to go about this. He scoffed, but it lacked any real bite. “Do I look okay?”. You sighed, crossing the room to sit beside him on the edge of his bed. “Mattheo, I didn’t break up with you because I stopped caring. I broke up with you because you were hurting yourself. And it was hurting me, too”.

His gaze finally met yours, and the vulnerability there made your chest tighten. “I’m sorry” he mumbled, voice breaking. “I just, everything feels wrong without you. I know I messed up”. You reached out, taking his hand in yours. “I’m not asking you to be perfect, Matty. I just need you to try. I need you to promise me that you’ll stop fighting. You don’t have to be angry all the time. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone”. For a long moment, he said nothing, just held your hand like it was the only thing keeping him afloat. Finally, he nodded, squeezing your hand tighter. “I promise. No more fighting. I don’t want to lose you, I can’t lose you” Tears welled up in your eyes, and you pulled him into a tight embrace. He buried his face in your shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath as if he’d been holding it in for far too long. You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the past few weeks slowly lifting. “Thank you” he whispered, pulling back just enough to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “For not giving up on me”. You smiled, brushing a stray curl away from his face. “I’ll always be here, Mattheo. Just… no more fights, okay?”. He chuckled, the sound light and genuine, the first hint of the old Mattheo breaking through. “No more fights. I’ve got something better to fight for now”. You knew there was a lot of learning to do but you had faith that Mattheo could work on himself. And as he pulled you closer, you knew that whatever happened next, you’d face it together.

-

Thank you for reading! Please send requests for him!! Also tempted to make a longer version of this with a lot more angst??

[yangcherie]

bathing.

𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).

𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.

𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?

𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.

“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”

Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.

They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.

It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.

The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.

“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”

A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”

“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”

Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.

Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”

(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)

Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.

“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.

“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”

Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.

You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.

Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.

You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?

(You hope so.)

Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.

A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.

The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.

They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.

“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”

Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.

Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.

“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.

“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”

As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.

The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.

Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.

“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”

They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.

“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”

Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!

“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”

“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.

“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.

You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.

Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.

[mrsbarnesblog]

i need help

summary: Rafe has a breakdown and he finally asks for help

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angsty and fluffy?, crying, mentions of drugs and alcohol, ward is the worst father (this is ward’s hate space btw💋)

a/n: I just want to baby him. so yeah, soft/clingy Rafe again because apparently, I can’t write anything else right now🙂

You were sitting on Rafe’s bed, patiently listening to his firm footsteps on the staircase. The room was dimly lit only by a lamp from the nightstand and you fought back an urge to fall on your back and fall asleep with your face in his pillow. 

Yet the harsh and cold voice made your head clear of your thoughts and you finally noticed your best friend walking into his own room. 

“What are you doing here?” Rafe grumbled at you as soon as he slammed the door, turned the lock and turned around, only to see you sitting on his bed.

“What?” His bloodshot eyes were burning holes into you and you innocently blinked at him, not understanding why he was acting so weird.

“I said, what–”

“Don’t yell at me.” You interrupted him calmly. “We wanted to hang out; it’s been a few days since it was just the two of us. You never complain when I come here.”

“Ye-yeah, fuck…sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You watched how Rafe started pacing around the room, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He was almost shaking, his hair looking like a mess, and you would’ve thought that he was on the verge of tears. “I’m not in the mood right now, okay? We’ll do it another time. Can you leave now? I– I need to be alone.”

“No, Rafe, I’m not leaving. What happened?” Your brows furrowed, concern and nerves bubbling inside of your body as you watched how your friend and the guy you had a crush on was slowly breaking down. 

“Nothing. Nothing happened, Y/N.” He mumbled, still not staying in one place. “Just go.”

“I told you no.” 

 “Why can’t you listen to what I’m fucking telling you?!” Rafe snapped, stepping closer to you as if he were trying to scare you away. Yet you remained still in your place, not even flinching. Your brows shot up in silent question,  eyes were glued to his face, and especially to the way his own eyes became more glassy and watery with every second. “Fuck, fuck—I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to yell at you.” 

“Then don’t. You know I hate it when you’re doing it, Rafe.” You continued calmly. “Sit here and tell me what happened. I see that something’s wrong. It’s been that way for a long time, right? You’re acting differently… C’mere.” You patted the bed near you, giving Rafe a reassuring smile. 

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” Sitting near you on the bed and holding his head in his hands, Rafe spoke so quietly that you could barely hear him. “I’m going insane. I have issues and nobody hears me.” You slowly, as if you were touching a wounded animal, put your hand on his back, slowly moving it up and down. 

“Tell me. I’m here and I hear you. Please tell me what’s going on.” You tried to sound as soft as you could, moving a little bit closer. “You know you can trust me.”

“There’s something wrong with me. I— I have thoughts in my head that I don’t like. They’re bad. They’re wrong. I don’t want to be violent or feel these things inside of me but I c-can’t stop. They’re stronger than I am and sometimes they’re messing with my head.” Rafe’s voice cracked at the end and you felt the violent beating of your heart in your chest. He sniffed a few times, desperately trying to be strong in front of you and to hide the disgusting things that were eating him up alive. 

“Are they dangerous to others or to you?” 

“Both.”

You slowly nodded, processing the information and trying not to show the way it actually freaked you out. Did you know that Rafe struggled with anger and was not everyone's favorite person? Well, yes. He was nothing but sweet to you, though. You saw that he was a nice person, with a good heart. The only thing that he wanted in return was to feel needed, important, and loved. 

And you always gave it to him. 

But realizing that there were problems so much deeper and that he was now screaming for help because he could not live like that anymore made you wonder how you could be so stupid to not notice the signs earlier.

“Did you talk to your dad about it? Maybe anyone else? Or is it just me? ” You finally reached Rafe's face with your hand, turning him in your direction. You’ve never seen him even shed a tear, not to mention the state that he was in right now and it was shocking how much it hurt you too. The look in his pretty eyes was so desperate and so hurtful that you felt sick.

“He told me to man up. Cool, right? Can’t even do shit without disappointing him. I–I said that I have problems, but he just ignored it. He told me to rest and that it'd be okay.” He smiled at you, even though tears were still freely streaming down his face. “I just thought that maybe once he would hear me. See me. Not Sarah. I’m so fucking tired of it.” He shook his head and looked down. “So it’s only you. Nobody really cares about me anyway, so...”

“Oh, Rafe… Come here.” He wasn’t resisting when you dragged him closer to you by his arm. No, instead, he wrapped his arms around you as if his life were depending on it. You hugged Rafe back, slowly lowering both of you on the bed, until he was lying almost on top of you with his face in the crook of your neck and your fingers slowly brushing through his hair.

What you noticed is that Rafe was always cautious with physical contact. Sometimes it seemed like he tried to be closer to you, sit near you, or casually play with your hands or hair, but the next day he was completely dispant and hesitant. 

It was obvious that now Rafe lowered his guards; he let you see the damaged parts of him and he craved your touch because it was the only thing that could ground him. 

“I need help. I’m tired of this shit in my head, and I don’t want to continue ruining my life with alcohol and drugs…but it just calms everything down for some time and I don’t know how to come out of this circle.” Rafe sobbed harder, his arms wrapping around you even more, until you were closer than you'd ever been before. Your own eyes were filled with tears, but you refused to show them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a disappointment. P-please don’t walk away.” 

You knew about Rafe’s lifestyle, but despite your words, he always made it seem like not a big deal, like something fun that he does at parties. Though now it was obvious that the facade that he had built was slowly falling down and drowning him in it too. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rafe. It’s not your fault. But you do need help, darling.” You whispered, pet name rolling from your tongue faster than you could’ve processed it. “It’s important that you understand it. And I’m not leaving. It’s the last thing that should be in your head.”

“I do. I want to get clean. I want to be normal. I just don’t know how.” 

“That’s okay. I’m here for you, yeah? Your dad may not hear you, but I do and I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow, okay? Now you need to rest a little bit.” You reached the end of the bed, dragging a duvet and covering both of you with it. Rafe didn't move an inch from your warmth.

“You promise?”

“I promise, Rafe. You mean a lot to me; you know that, right? More than you think.” You whispered, soothingly brushing his blond hair again.

“You mean a lot to me too. More than you think.”    

[seungfl0wer]

*Lee know Calling You Clingy*

Paring: Lee Know x Reader (GN)

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Arguing, Cursing, A sort of happy ending?

This is part of a series find the others here:

Bangchan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

-🩵

Cutting up some veggies as you watched your boyfriend cook dinner, he was always so handsome like this so in his zone. As you got done cutting you brought it over to him. Standing by his side as he went to grab something you would hand it to him, He moved you would move. You thought to yourself how sweet this moment was however that’s not exactly what he was thinking. He was getting frustrated cause as much as he really loved when you helped the kitchen was too small for you both to be doing stuff.

“Y/n can you please give me a little bit of space” he said his tone sounding annoyed. You looked up at him feeling bad for bothering him so you slumped back into the chair. “Why don’t you set the table?” He asked seeing your reaction. You nod feeling a bit upset as you did so. You both sat down to eat finishing the delicious food fast before plopping yourselves down on the couch to watch a movie.

You wanted to make it up to him for bothering him while he was in his element so you wrapped your arms around him snuggling up to him. He let out a small sigh as you did so, you looked up to the man who was trying to focus on the movie. His face stern looking still with a hint of that annoyance from earlier. “Hey babe is everything alright? You seem on edge today?” You said softly trying to read his face. “It’s fine” he said blankly still keeping his attention on the tv.

“Love please, talk to me I can tell something’s up. Is it work? Did I do something?” You went on rambling before he cut you off “y/n please. Can we just watch the damn movie.” He hissed his voice harsher than it was supposed to be “can’t you at least tell me what’s wrong?” You said not wanting to drop it, although you probably should have. “For fuck sakes y/n!” He said turning off the tv and getting up “you have been- been so clingy lately. You have been up my ass since we came back from the US. Why can’t I just get a few minutes of just peace. First you won’t leave me alone while I’m cooking and now I can’t even watch a damn movie without fucking 50 questions!” His voice echoed across the room.

Your heart was pounding trying all you had not to cry “I’m fucking sorry I haven’t seen my boyfriend in almost a month, god fucking forbid me for wanting to spend time with him!” You hissed back. You stood up quickly walking to your room, you grabbed a bag and packed some clothes as Minho continued behind you. “It’s one thing to fucking miss me y/n but it feels like you’d want to sit on my lap while I take a fucking shit cause you “miss me so much” you act like we didn’t talk at all which again had me no fucking time to myself!”

You put your bag over your shoulder “Fine you want alone time so fucking bad! Then be alone Minho!” You said storming towards the front door. Your mind raced as you could feel the tears pulling at the corners. No. No crying he doesn’t get to see that. “Good! That’s exactly what I fucking wanted, I’m happy you get the fucking message now!” He said still yelling behind you. You bit your lip his words cutting deeper each time he spoke. You turned around quickly feeling the tears coming “fuck you Minho! I’m- I’m fucking done!” You spat almost running out the door you could hear him before you were out “me fucking too!”

You had gone to a friend’s house to stay she held you close rubbing your back trying to console you. Everything hurt, your head was spinning, your eyes red from crying cheeks stained with tears. “Want me to get some of that cake you like so much and we can sit and eat it while watching horror movies” she said smiling “why horror movies?” You said smiling a bit “cause at least dumb men die in it” she laughed making you laugh too. She was always such a good friend knowing exactly what to say and do to make you feel better.

After Minho calmed down a bit he sat back down on the couch. He turned the movie back on but quickly turned it off “damnit, even when they’re not here they ruin it.” He said throwing the remote back down to the table. He laid back on the couch looking up at the ceiling he felt a heaviness in his chest “no I wanted alone time” he said shaking his head “I wanted this..” his words trailed off. “But why’s it feel so bad.” He said with a deep sigh.

He looked at his phone wanting to text you but not daring too. He knew he was out of line but he didn’t want to be the first to admit. Your words ringing in his head though “I’m done.” What did you mean? Were you ending the relationship? The thought of this made a lump in Minhos throat. Surly you weren’t serious right? .. Right??

Almost a week had passed with radio silence on both ends. It wasn’t like either of you didn’t wanna message the other but neither of you wanted to do it first.

You had thought about things a lot, you decided about going home and just staying in the guest room. You knew Minho wasn’t home at the moment and all though your friend had a great idea “just move out while he’s not home, give him the ultimate alone time he wants” you couldn’t afford that right now. And quite frankly why does he get to keep the place and you move?

You walked into your apartment thinking of what exactly to do. Your head spinning a bit from thoughts “what the fuck am I even gonna say?” You said to yourself “are we even together anymore?” You sighed loudly you stood there for a good minute or two before making your way to the bedroom. You scrounged up most of your things moving it into the guest room you felt yourself wanting to cry again “fuck you” you said softly. You locked the door, put on some music and just curled up into a ball. You had fallen asleep quickly the feeling of being in your home making you sleep easier.

Minho had come home late walking through the door to see your shoes on the floor. His face looked confused before he heard music playing “did she come home?” He said to himself making his way to what was your shared bedroom. He looked over it seeing you had taken stuff he felt his heart sink. He saw the small light coming from under the guest rooms door making the thoughts of you moving disappear. He walked to the door trying to open it realizing it was locked he was about to knock before stopping himself.

He signed a bit walking to the living room, he slumped into the couch all sorts of emotions whirling in his head. He slowly fell asleep only to be woken up by the sounds of you coming out of the room. You quietly tried sneaking to the door your belly rumbling. He quickly turned his head to meet your eyes locking. You both were still for a second before he let out a soft “leaving?”

You shook your head no “7/11” you said trying to keep it short. You made your way to the door putting your shoes on “I- I can make you something.” His voice barely a whisper at this point. “No thank you” you said before leaving out the door. This is how it stayed for about a week. Minho tried talking to you and you just giving him one word answers. He came home from work you’d slink back into your room. He’d come into the kitchen, you’d leave just as quickly.

He started doing small things for you like leaving you breakfast in the morning, or buying your favorite drink to keep in the fridge. He usually did these things always being thoughtful in these sweet kind of actions. It made your heart hurt more. One of the days he made you your favorite lunch, he didn’t do it often because it meant going about an hour away to the restaurant to pick it up but he did. He did in the morning before he had to be at work driving there and back before his already long day.

When you saw it in the morning you started to bawl like a baby. Minho had come back home after realizing he left his phone on the counter. You were curled up on the couch listening to some of his solo music crying into a pillow. He stood there not wanting to bother you but wanting nothing more than to hold you and make things right. He started making his way towards you before you heard him your head shot up eyes meeting his. Your body moved fast tackling him almost knocking you both down.

“Min I’m sorry- I’m so sorry” you choked out tears streaming down your face ugly crying “I’m sorry for being clingy I’m sorry for being a bother- I’ll change I’ll give you more space I’m sorry I just can’t- I can’t do this anymore I miss you- everything hurts-“ you said between sobs and wiping the snot that was running down. Minho couldn’t help but cry at your words, he really had broken you. “No- y/n please don’t change, this all was because of me I’m the asshole I’m the one that should be apologizing.” He said his chest heaving.

“Don’t change please I’m sorry for calling you clingy please- I miss you, cling to me. Hold onto me for dear life please I need you..” he voice getting stuck in his throat. You’ve never seen him like this, he always kept his emotions under control but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Life has no meaning if I can’t spend it with you, if I can’t have you by my side with that shining smile of yours. The smile that I haven’t seen in how long. I ruined everything. I hurt you I ruined us things won’t ever be the same.”

His voice horse crying even harder than you now “you should hate me, you should want me to jump off a bridge. I don’t know- I don’t understand why you’re apologizing.” He was rambling on. You felt your heart just braking again, he was so defeated and part of you wanted nothing more than to tell him this is exactly what he wanted. And you’d be right, but you just wanted him back, wanted things back to how they were.

You pulled Minho down to the couch both of you sobbing trying to calm yourselves. You both cried for almost a full half hour before you spoke “Things.. things will be different either way.. you.. we gotta build that trust back up” you said softly clearing your throat. “Let’s start off slow ok?” You said lifting his head to make eye contact with you.

“Well start small and work on things hmm?” You said repeating yourself. He nodded “can.. can you come back to our room?” He said whipping his nose “eventually, I will let’s start off with just trying to talk through some things ok?” You said kissing his cheek. “I love you Minho but what you said hurt and will still probably hurt in the future. But I really do love you and would rather work on things and hopefully fix it than just to through it away so easily.” You said pulling him into a hug.

“Anything, I’ll do anything to show you how sorry I am.” He said his words muffled by your shoulder. You nod sitting there in silence both of you trying to gather your thoughts and catch your breath.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[scififettuccine]

Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader

Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀

Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???

Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.

It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.

"Hey there, kiddo!"

You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.

"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.

"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.

"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."

Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.

Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.

"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.

"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.

"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.

"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.

"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"

"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.

"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.

"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.

"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.

"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.

"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.

"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.

"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.

"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.

"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.

"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.

"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.

"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.

'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.

"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.

Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.

"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.

"I know."

————————————————————————

I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!

[ipushhimback]

we were drunk, it happens - pt. 4

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

pairing: lando norris x verstappen!reader warnings: pregnancy words: 1.4k

summary: lando tells yn he loves her after finding out she is pregnant

She wanted to cry. Y/N didn’t want to tell Lando about it. Not yet. She was only around 6 weeks along. Why did he have to find out now? Why didn’t Max close the door? Why wasn’t she more careful? What was she even doing here?

“Just leave, Lando!”, Y/N shouted and wanted to take it back as soon as she saw Lando wince. She pulled knees to her chest and buried her face in the fabric of her dress.

It was such a huge mistake to come to this Grand Prix. Everything went wrong in her life. She hated it.

Max stepped forward to hug his sister.

“It is alright, little one. Everything is going to be ok. Believe me. Just breathe. See, Lando isn’t yelling at you. He isn’t mad. Right, Lando?”, he said glaring at the younger man.

“No! No. Y/N. Why did you think I would be mad? You’re pregnant, right? That should make you happy. It is a baby. A little you. So don’t be scared, please.” Oh, he was so scared. He wanted to scream and wanted to throw himself out of the non-existent window. A baby? A little human? How would he take care of them?

“But. You are so busy and always travelling and we are so young. I am 22! You are not much older! How would we do that”, Y/N sobbed and was embarrassed for being this emotional. Damn hormones.

“Hey. It will all work. It is ok. We are going to be ok. We will have a baby. That’s great!”

Y/N used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears on her face.

“You really aren’t mad?”, she asked, still not really believing Lando.

“No. I really am not. I am happy. I didn’t exactly plan for any of this to happen, but it is nice. Maybe you could come over next week and we could just… talk about it? Maybe it’ll make you feel better? Were you already at the doctors to get the baby checked?”

Y/N shook her head.

“Not, yet. But I have an appointment next week. Then I will find out if the baby’s ok.”

Lando nodded and smiled so Y/N finally allowed herself to calm down. He really wasn’t mad at her for being pregnant. He looked happy.

***

“Max! You don’t understand! I got Verstappen’s sister pregnant!” Lando stared at his friend, Max Fewtrell, in front of him. “This is terrible. We were finally getting along again after he… you know… realized we did it… and now his sister is pregnant because of me!”

“I get it Lando. But you can’t do anything. It is how it is. Didn’t you say you were happy about it? You told her you were. Did you lie?” Max hissed. “Bro you cannot lie to a pregnant woman. Furthermore, you told me you like her so where is the problem?”

“Yes, but we said no feelings! So, I cannot tell her that I have liked her this whole time! But she also shouldn’t be handling the pregnancy alone! Max!”, Lando whined. “I don’t know what to do.” The brunette flopped on the couch.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. He definitely had done something wrong in his life. Why didn’t he use a condom? Why…

“Stop beating yourself up, Lando”, Max said. “This is something great. You will have a baby! And you love kids. But maybe you shouldn’t ask yourself if you want to have a baby. If you want to have Y/N as your girlfriend. You should ask yourself if you want to be a dad and a boyfriend.”

“Oh, shut up. Why are you always saying some smart shit.”

“I don’t just say smart shit, I am smart. As the older one of us I have to help you and give you advice for life.”

“You are literally 3 and a half months older… that’s nothing… Max, I really fucked up this time.” Lando buries his face in his hands and sighed. “I want to be a dad. Really. But not yet? I am not ready for this. I am practically a kid myself! I cannot take care of a literal baby.”

“Well, either that or you tell Y/N you don’t want to have a baby and risk her hating you. Your choice, Lando. But don’t decide now. Wait until you know the baby is healthy. Talk to her about your concerns. Think about it. Promise me that, Lando.” Max looked at his friend.

“I will, I promise.”

***

Only an hour later Lando was standing in front of Y/N’s door. He really wanted to wait until next week but just couldn’t. He had to talk to her.

He knocked and only a couple seconds later the door opened, and Y/N was standing in front of him.

“Lando? What are you doing here? It is literally midnight!”

“I am sorry. But I had to talk to you because I talked to Max. Not you brother Max the other Max. My Max. And I want to be there for the baby. And I have feelings for you and I was so scared of telling you because I know we said no feelings involved but they are involved and I wanna be there for you and the baby when it is born and I know I shouldn’t be here at midnight telling you all that because I am probably just sleep deprived or so but. I love you, Y/N.” As soon as he finished talking, Lando took a deep breath and held it, waiting for Y/N to say something.

“That… was a lot”, Y/N finally said. “But I like you too, Lando. From the first time I saw you with those ridiculously good-looking curls and those blue eyes. I would love if you were involved in mine and the baby’s life.”

Lando just stared at Y/N and couldn’t really believe it yet.

“You… you like me too?”, he asked. He would have though Y/N would call him crazy and that she would say she didn’t like him at all, but he definitely didn’t expect this here to happen.

“I do. And you are an idiot if you haven’t noticed it yet.” Y/N said and smiled a little.

“Oh.”

“So… I have the doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Do you want to come with me? Just making sure the baby is ok. I could use someone to talk to in the waiting room.”

Lando nodded. In that moment he was sure he was the happiest person on earth.

“Do you… no forget it”, Y/N started.

“Do I what? Tell me! You can’t start a sentence like that and then keep me hanging. Tell me!”

Y/N took a deep breath.

“Doyouwannastayherewithme.” Lando stared at her as if she was crazy. What the fuck did she just say? That was too fast for his brain at midnight.

“Huh?”

“Do you want to stay here? With me?”

Lando grinned and nodded.

“Yes! Of course. If it is really ok with you.?”

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up with Lando’s arm around her waist. It was warm and she couldn’t help but notice how different it was to wake up next to him, knowing they didn’t fuck last night.

“Morning”, she mumbled sleepily. “We have to get up to go to the appointment.”

The man next to her just groaned.

“Too early.”

“No, sleepyhead. It is already 11 am. Get up.”

Eventually Lando got up and went to the bathroom and only an hour later they were at the doctor’s office.

The doctor was very nice, and Y/N could swear that the nurse recognized Lando but didn’t say anything.

“So, let’s take a look at the baby”, the doctor said as she poured some gel for the ultrasound on Y/N’s abdomen. She placed the probe on it and looked at the monitor.

Then she moved the monitor so Y/N and Lando could both look at it. She pointed on a few grey, black and white areas to explain some stuff.

“And here we see Baby A”, she pointed to another grey blotch. “And there we have Baby B. Both perfectly healthy.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped.

“Twins…?”

The doctor nodded.

“Yes, you two will have twins. Congratulations!”

A/N: yes i did just post that on the wrong acc… but here we go sorry it took so long to write this! if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist pls tell me bc i don’t know who only wanted to be tagged for this series and who for all the other stuff i will write as well so you will be tagged for everything i will write (sorry i am too chaotic for this world)

taglist:

@strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @I-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss