#happy w this!! happy w my me!! as long as i ignore the fact that indoor environments exist maybe backgrounds arent all tht bad :3

[hinamie]

long way home

[teruthecreator]

i love that the rise of the internet is contributing to theatre culture on a whole, especially with bringing eyes to certain off-broadway or underground productions (speaking more directly about ride the cyclone). but i am very annoyed by the internetification of theatre in the way of like. fandom culture and forcing these poor actors to be permanently related to certain roles and having to pull back the curtain on certain things that should just always remain a mystery, bc theatre is all about that mystery and of letting the audience sit down unaware and be immersed in something completely new 

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HEAR ME OUT

“Don’t you think I’m scary?”

“Scary? My god you’re divine”

AHHHHH

FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ 😭😭🤭🤭😋😋

I love two lovestruck idiots who don’t know they’re in love w each other and it’s grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever 😻😻

PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! it’s so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks he’s so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx

fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus he’s whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !

before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.

he’s made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. he’s made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently he’s constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only let’s you have those ‘extra’s’ that doesn’t mean anything.

he’s made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, he’s also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. he’s ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that “he wouldn’t need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.” he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.

and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'

anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.

usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.

but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.

katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.

but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.

you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."

"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.

he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."

"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.

"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.

pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.

he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.

"behave." you squeeze his hand.

"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.

"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.

you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"

"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.

"..how'd you-"

"your mom told me."

he grunts. of course, it was his mom.

that damn hag..

"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.

"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"

"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.

"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.

"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"

"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.

"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.

cool.

you think he looks cool.

"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.

"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.

"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.

"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.

"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.

"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)

he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.

finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.

"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.

"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask

"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.

"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.

until—

"OW, fuck !!"

your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, what—why-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!

until—katsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.

the. asshole.

"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.

katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"

"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.

"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.

"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.

"i see you laughing."

today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.

[astonmartinii]

i hope your finger’s ok!! please take all the time you need and remember you health comes first :) imma be selfish and send you a charles request cause ur writing makes me smile at my phone like an idiot and i can’t help it :p ok so!! charles x versteppen reader? shes max’s sister and drives for redbull (cause im delulu like that) and they’ve been fighting w each other since they were kids (no one knows why they started arguing they’re j petty and refuse to give it up even though they dk what they’re arguing abt anymore) and obvs they’re in love w each other - maybe another drivers flirting w her or smth and charles j snaps and hard launches the reader cause surprise they’ve been dating each other 🤭 holy shit this is long sorry for rambling 🙏🙏

angel baby, devil child | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x verstappen!reader

enemies to lovers blah blah blah

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1,743,200 others

yourusername: crazy, crazy race. sorry not sorry to the tifosi, tell ur girl @charles_leclerc to kiss my ass not my rear tyre xoxo

view all comments

user1: okay they're clearly still in the enemies phase... when can we skip to lovers

user2: i personally love that charles is the mortal enemy of both verstappen siblings that's so slay of him

maxverstappen1: crop me out again and say goodbye to a tow in qualifying

yourusername: sorry maxy, not my fault i got all the photogenic genes xx

maxverstappen1: erm rude @christianhorner tell her to stop bullying me

yourusername: two can play at that game @sebastianvettel tell max to stop being a baby

user3: the way neither christian or seb replied they really don't get paid enough to deal with them

charles_leclerc: what is it with verstappens and their love for pushing me off the track

yourusername: what is it with your front wing and my rear tyre

charles_leclerc: umm i asked you first

yourusername: stop deflecting babe, we all know you love my ass so much you wanted a touch

charles_leclerc: i'd rather deep fry my hands than touch your rear

maxverstappen1: that can be arranged

user4: can't wait for these three to all be in the same press conference next week 🍿

carlossainz55: my favourite person to share the podium with

yourusername: thanks chilli (@tifosi you heard it here sainz is against ferrari 1-2s)

carlossainz55: NO that's not what i meant

landonorris: i see how it is ... god all men are the same AM I NOT PRETTY ENOUGH FOR YOU?

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,204,809 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: happy birthday to my bestest friend, biggest rival and favourite roommate. though maybe now you're 23 you can get your own place so you can sneak out to meet up with your secret boyfriend on your own terms and can keep that massive ballsack away from jimmy and sassy. i love you and verstappen dominance 4 ever.

view all comments

user7: i love y/n but i think she should bring her cat to races as a scare tactic

yourusername: wrinkle doesn't appreciate your tone but it is duly noted

yourusername: awwwwwwwww i love you maxy !! and you're never getting rid of your little sister unless you get married and ur a big fat nerd so that's never happening xx

maxverstappen1: attacking me after i just bought you a whole ass car

yourusername: i JOKE. thank you soooo much and you'll never get rid of me you love me too much to anyway.

maxverstappen1: enough to finally introduce me to the mystery man?

yourusername: blocked.

user8: are we all just ignoring her doing her literal eyeliner with a knife?

user9: or the fact that max likely walked in and was like oh wait this is a sick shot

danielricciardo: oh no that was me, i'm still traumatised but it's probably the best photo i've ever taken

yourusername: easy to do with a model like me

charles_leclerc: wtf is that thing in the last one

yourusername: rude of you to think ur balls look any nicer

charles_leclerc: what?

yourusername: what?

user10: does anyone want to elaborate?

carlossainz55: happy birthday y/n !

yourusername: thanks carlos, thank you for the flowers 👍

user11: this is either their way of flirting or y/n really couldn't give a flying fuck about carlos' obvious crush on her

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 2,098,560 others

yourusername: another trip around the sun and still following my brother around, difference is now i beat him x

view all comments

user16: your honour i am so obsessed with her

maxverstappen1: can't even be angry about it, you deserve the world

yourusername: you softy, i love you

maxverstappen1: also dummy i know who your boyfriend is now did you guys forget that we LITERALLY LIVE TOGETHER

yourusername: i was intoxicated my bad but we bought you breakfast?

maxverstappen1: literally the only reason he hasn't gone over the balcony, he might want to be gone before this hangover wears off

yourusername: noted.

user17: yall want to share with the class?

user18: based on ^^ this reaction i'm going to say it's not carlos

user19: watch out he'll drop a shit pick-up line in a second and be rejected

carlossainz55: hope you enjoyed your birthday beautiful

user20: bro this guy STINKS

user19: i told yall

yourusername: thank you carlos

user21: i'm sorry this is dry as hell it can't be carlos

charles_leclerc: my shoes will never recover, i'll be sending an invoice your way

yourusername: you're a millionaire boo, you can replace those tacky white trainers yourself

charles_leclerc: is having no manners a verstappen trait?

yourusername: come for max all you want, but the birthday girl? low leclerc

charles_leclerc: when you go low i go lower

yourusername: oh believe me i know all about you and going down

user22: DO YALL MIND?

user23: do they think we're dumb?

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, lancestroll and 1,204,674 others

charles_leclerc: a weekend without racing?

view all comments

user24: what is biden doing about the soft launch pandemic?

user25: well this is oddly timed ...

yourusername: you look like you'd have sweaty hands

charles_leclerc: wouldn't you like to know

yourusername: unlike all ur fangirls i've actually smelt you sweaty after a race so you can keep your hands to yourself

maxverstappen1: you heard her 🤨

charles_leclerc: why are you here? is this a 2 for 1 deal on annoying dutch people

yourusername: you can call him annoying all you want, but you love me don't lie

charles_leclerc: my lawyer says i shouldn't comment on that ;)

sebastianvettel: when will you two stop?

yourusername: sorry seb :(

charles_leclerc: sorry seb :(

user26: i know carlos is sick reading this weird flirting when y/n never comments on his pics

user27: she comes here just to flirt cause she didn't even like the photo

user28: she doesn't even follow him 😭

pierregasly: i love a slow burn as much as the next person BUT NOT WHEN I DON'T KNOW WHO IT IS PICK UP THE PHONE

charles_leclerc: you're so dramatic, nobody knows calmar

maxverstappen1: he's lying i do

pierregasly: WHAT

charles_leclerc: by ACCIDENT i didn't tell him by choice

user29: so like, it's definitely y/n LOL

user30: oh no everyone get ready marca is going to run a story tomorrow about how charles leclerc is ruining carlos' career with psychological warfare by flirting with the girl he likes

user31: sainz sr about to wage war lol

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,304,889 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: i don't share. i love you. please follow me on instagram now (and let me come on max's jet) x

view all comments

user35: HOLY FUCK

user36: they're so fucking sexy my lord

yourusername: you're so weak, one teammate flirts with me and you hard launch, i've had 12 year olds use me as a face claim to pretend they're pregnant with your child

charles_leclerc: they took your face? i happen to quite like it, can they give it back?

yourusername: quite?

charles_leclerc: don't make me look bad you know i positively LOVE YOUR FACE

yourusername: and my ass since it's all you look at on track

charles_leclerc: okay you can drop the act now people know we're in love stop being mean to me :(

yourusername: but it's true, no?

charles_leclerc: rest assured i love your actual ass much more

maxverstappen1: believe me the people she lives with know WAY too much about how much you love it

user37: carlos sainz really thought he had a chance when these fools have been together for TWO years

sebastianvettel: congratulations you two, glad we don't have to watch you two trying to be subtle now

maxverstappen1: so wait when did you find out?

sebastianvettel: about two weeks into the relationship, they were very obvious

yourusername: thank you for keeping our secret dad <3

user38: y/n really said you ARE my grid dad

yourusername: oh no that's my actual dad

charles_leclerc: he's literally going to walk y/n down the aisle

maxverstappen1: please don't tell me you're engaged? i only just got over you actually being together

charles_leclerc: i'm not your brother yet don't worry (i will be soon)

carlossainz55: congrats guys

user39: it's okay bro you can cry

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,301,541 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: two years with the love of my life, still on max's side on val d'argenton x

view all comments

user40: they're disgusting (when will it happen to me)

charles_leclerc: we'll have to agree to disagree

yourusername: just admit it you love to push verstappens off the track

charles_leclerc: sorry babe as much as i love you, i'll never let you win x

yourusername: good thing i always beat you then x

charles_leclerc: either way victory sex still bangs

user41: yes, yes they're cute, but i need a full on play-by-play of how this relationship came to be

user42: i know these menaces were giggling and kicking their feet every time they had an argument in comment sections

yourusername: oh it was very fun

charles_leclerc: but the radio messaged are 100% real lol

maxverstappen1: thanks for having my back, you're welcome for all the gross pictures i've taken for you guys

yourusername: consider your payment like every meal i make us

maxverstappen1: well if i did it f1 would be down three drivers

user43: wait so does charles basically live with them now?

maxverstappen1: unfortunately yes. depressing music, even worse cooking than me and horrendously loud sex with my sister. i should kick him out

charles_leclerc: i literally bought you noise-cancelling headphones?

maxverstappen1: nothing you can say will save me from this trauma

yourusername: just shag daniel and get off of our case x

note: ahhhhh i am so sorry this request took so long, my inbox keeps moving stuff around lol. my finger is good thanks for asking, the human body is a wonder and i peeled off the last of my scab this week lol. i hope this was the kinda thing you were looking for !! xx

[fae-of-prey]

sugar plums ⏾ ˖ ࣪⊹

❥. ݁₊ inspired by this + me rewatching obx before the new season

❥. ݁₊ word count: 1138

❥. ݁₊ warnings: barry’s little sister reader (kinda naïve + v sheltered); w*rd cameron; brief mentions of murder as per canon events of the show; sorta dubcon kiss but reader doesn’t mind; i think that’s it? feel free to lmk if i missed any

❥. ݁₊ notes: this is v much baby’s first official fic so pls be nice to me:3 i also wanna thank my beautiful beautiful moots for supporting me + beta reading this for me, love y’all to death<333

rafe loves nighttime; it’s peaceful, quiet, it feels like he has the whole world to himself, and most of all you. he fights hard to keep you as blissfully ignorant and unaware as humanly possible, so you can sleep peacefully next to him. rafe can’t sleep tonight though, how could he? he’s haunted by the consequences of his own murderous actions. he lays awake watching you instead just to feel a tinge of pride from how well he’s kept you safe and happy despite everything. rafe always thought you were an angel, his angel, sent straight from the heavens just for him, and you‘ve never looked more heavenly at peace than you do now.

you’ve certainly come a long way from a drug dealer's little trailer park princess sister, busting your ass working at the country club hoping you’ll eventually save up enough to afford college someday, to spending your days living the kook life at tannyhill and being spoiled absolutely rotten. although your big brother was apprehensive at first to your courtship with the kook king himself given the fact that he knows rafe, he eventually came around to the idea; he even lets you live with rafe now for the most part, i mean you get to live in a mansion more comfortably than he’s ever been able to provide, so he had to be a little selfless. barry’s always been a little overprotective and very strict with you to keep you safe from the dangers of his lifestyle, but now so is rafe and he’s happy to be responsible enough to keep you out of trouble.

on the surface it seems like the most dangerous place you could be (well, right next to the dingy trailer of your drug dealer brother), but rafe promised your brother you’d be in good hands, a promise he fully intends to keep even if those hands are now covered in blood. all so you can sleep soundly in his arms dreaming of sugar plums, while rafe’s father pulls into the driveway with a dead body in the trunk.

‘rafe’ even his whisper startles his son and causes you to stir a little bit when he jumps, though he quickly rubs your arm with his thumb soothingly as he turns just slightly to face his father, careful not to wake you in the process ‘what? what is it?’ so eager to help, yet there’s a small part of him deep down dreading leaving the comfort of your presence for what he’s sure can’t be anything good. but ‘i need your help’ is still enough temptation from the devil for him to get out of bed and smear a kiss to your hairline before following his father out to the driveway ready to do anything for daddy’s approval.

sometime in the middle of rafe carrying gavin’s body to the druthers, you stir from your slumber, searching for rafe in the covers only to come up empty, prompting you to open your eyes in hopes you’ll have more luck with your sight, but he’s still nowhere to be found. you creep into the hallway ‘rafe?’ nothing but an echoing sense of unease. not just at rafe’s absence, but the feeling of trepidation in such a large house; you’re still not quite used to it from growing up in a tiny trailer (because despite rafe’s efforts, you’re still not quite a real kook just yet, and other kooks don’t shy away from making it clear behind rafe’s back). that and you can’t help the nagging sense that something is wrong.

you go downstairs for some water while you wait for rafe to come back from accessorizing a murder wherever he is. and as soon as you’ve finished filling your cup you turn around to see your boyfriend walking in suddenly scaring the hell out of you, you didn’t even hear him come in ‘hey baby, what’re you doin up?’ his voice still so raspy ‘i woke up without you, where’d you go?’ you pout, setting the glass down to wrap your arms around him but you still look up at him with those big doe eyes, and he can’t help but feel a familiar pitter patter in his heart at your clinginess; he quite literally just buried a body but less than a minute with you sends him right back to cloud 9 because fuck you’re the light of his goddamn life, and more than that you’re the only light in his goddamn life ‘just uh, had to help my dad with som‘in on the boat, nothin fancy. let’s getcha back to bed, yeah?’ you smile and nod before taking your water with you as he leads you back upstairs.

once you’re all settled in again, so does grim reality when rafe remembers he still has to find the gun in the drain ‘shit, i’m sorry baby, i gotta go take care of somethin else’ ‘what? more boat stuff?’ you’re joking but still he’s never been more grateful for your lack of knowledge on boats before ‘yeah, yeah, uh, i’ll be back soon as i can though okay?’ ‘okay’ you’re pouting again ‘aw c’mon don’t give me fuckin that look’ he starts rummaging around in his closet for some real clothes to wear just to avoid it ‘what look?’ you feign innocence ‘those fuckin bambi eyes you give me whenever you want somethin’ ‘i dunno whatchu mean’ ‘yeah sure you don’t, fuckin smartass’ you giggle at his grumbles, he comes back dressed for the day since it’s morning now and he still has to go find a murder weapon.

‘cmere gimme a kiss fore i go’ ‘promise not to be gone long?’ you look up at him with those big doey eyes once again, you need to make him promise so you can sleep easy knowing he’ll be there when you wake up again, but rafe just sighs ‘ion know how long this is gonna take baby, i said i’ll be back as soon as i can, can’t make any promises okay?’ you’re still pouting at him so he rolls his eyes and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks, and kisses you himself, grumbling about how he has to do everything himself ‘just go back to sleep and i’ll see you later aight? promise’ ‘okay’ you huff in defeat ‘good girl, i love you’ ‘i love you too’ when you kiss him once more he has to refrain from kissing you again or else he’ll never leave the damn house.

eventually he manages to leave you and rides off on his motorcycle while you watch from the window. after he’s gone you flop back into bed sighing, maybe you can at least dream of him to keep you company while he’s out wondering how the hell he’s gonna explain this to your brother.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, likes / comments / reblogs of any support or feedback is the best way to show your appreciation, either way i’m so happy to have you here; i feel like there’s more i can explore with this so i’m down to write more of it if you guys want; but other than that i hope you have a lovely night, muah!

© FAE-OF-PREY 2024

[waayfo]

i said, “do u think u’ll kill for me one day?” (yes, of course i will, my darling)

dottore x gn!reader. lyric from national anthem (demo). mentions of killing or murder / possessiveness / mentions of dottore’s real name / pet names / cursing / slight ?? yandere / ooc ( kinda soft dottore ). english is not my first language !

You know that Dottore, or your boss is a mad man who does as he pleases—at least that's what people think. But he always acts a little differently to you, which clearly shows favoritism. An act of favoritism that is certainly not left to some other people.

Other people try to take advantage, by asking you to make dottore do something. The most common thing that happens is when they ask you to beg dottore to release their newest prisoner (?) that became the subject of Dottore's experiments who is either their family or friend or partner.

And of course, you’re not happy with it.

You are not a tool to fulfill their wishes. And they were merely just strangers who suddenly came to ask for help, without repaying.

You are pissed.

But also scared at the same time.

Just now you came out of the room called the ‘sacred’ dottore's office. But a stranger who you guess is a new worker just by looking at his impolite behavior, suddenly grabs your arm and takes you somewhere.

“What the heck?!” You yelp. Ignoring the fact that the stranger's hands were shaking violently.

The stranger is now facing you. While his hand was still gripping yours tightly, to the point where you were in pain. "P- please help me!"

You let out a harsh sigh. "No, i won't help you. Thanks to your very impolite behavior.”

“W- w- wait! What do you mean?! This is urgent, and you must help me!” The audacity, you curse him in your mind.

“I said no!” Those three words managed to make him angry instantly.

“You—you should know your place! Is it because you managed to tempt The Doctor with your body and face means you can do whatever you want?!��� You winced at his words, it felt like you were being stabbed by a knife, even though you know that it's all not true.

“If you will not tell that crazy man to free my friend—I will cut off your head, and present it to him.” You just looked at him in disgust thinking that he was a strange man. A disgusting strange man.

“Fuck off!” You yell at him.

Long story short, you managed to release his grip. But you couldn't help but notice the bruise on your wrist. You are increasingly annoyed and decide to end all this in an ‘inelegant’ way; using your heels, you stomp on his feet full of revenge. It should hurt a lot, you think.

And when you saw his reaction of pain and screaming, you immediately ran as fast as you could. Your body feels like it's on autopilot when you subconsciously search for someone you know too well— A tall and pale skin man, with light blue and slightly wavy hair, which makes anyone know his identity. And makes anyone afraid and even begs for mercy.

And there he was, standing straight with his hands behind his back like always.

“—tore,” Your breath hitches but tries to reach for his name.

“Dottore!” The man— Dottore looked at you quickly, as if he had been looking for you all along. He opened his arms, making room for you to fall into his embrace again. And you (will) happily return to his arms.

“Zandik!” You call his name once again, as if it were a spell that could make you happy for eternity. “Yes, dear?”

He lifted your chin, making you look up at him. His hand moved to wipe away a few tears that had fallen. Ah, since when have i cried? Why did i cry?

“What happened?” His calm voice made you shudder. You tightened your grip on his white lab jacket. And you know it won't cause him any pain.

You shake your head. "Nothing happened."

“Something happened,” His other hand, covered in a glove made especially for him, is now cupping your cheek. And his other hand, stroking your hair. “Am i right?”

The words are reluctant to come out and get stuck in your throat. You were too afraid to answer, too afraid to imagine what would happen to that stranger.

Silence enveloped the room. You only feel warmth, whether because of the heater in the room or because of Dottore's touch.

Knowing there would be no answer from you, dottore sighed. He placed you to sit on his desk. The desk was a little messy because of the papers, but there was still a place for you to sit.

Dottore's head lifted so he could see your face and what expression you were wearing right now— scared, with traces of tears.

His hand again rose to cup your cheek, then traced every curve on your face that he thought was beautiful. The touch felt strangely soft. Knowing that it was a touch from The Doctor— someone who had killed many people in order to achieve perfect experimental results.

And when he was about to hold your hand, he noticed something. A bruise on your wrist, a fucking bruise. That somewhat pissed him off.

“Who did this to you?” You can easily tell that he is angry, by the way he talks and the questions he asks.

“It’s— it’s just a random bruise i got—” “Stop lying.”

You were silenced quickly.

“You’re always been patient when other people try to take advantage of you,” Dottore's calm voice was whispery. If he knew about it all along, why did he continue to comply with your request?

Dottore closed his eyes for a moment, trying to connect the dots. “Someone asked you for help again? And you refuse, then they gets angry?” You nod.

“Is it a new employee?” You nod again.

“Tell me about them.” You told him straight away.

Dottore nodded. He noted it in his mind.

Out of sudden, you cupped Dottore's face. Cold, is the first thing that comes to your mind. Everything about him was cold, and so was his skin. You saw his pale face, but you couldn't guess what expression he had behind his mask.

As if he could read your mind, he took off the mask that covered part of his face. He put the mask right next to you.

“You’re not angry?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“Why?”

“Because i touch you– i touch your face.”

“Foolish question. Absolutely no.”

Dottore's hand covered yours that was touching his face. Maybe dottore can see your cheeks are a little red right now. Maybe now that stranger is scared right now that you managed run away.

You kissed Dottore's forehead as a thank you.

“I'll take care of it quickly.” And you can't imagine what experiments Dottore would do to the stranger.

[redbullgirly]

HI BABRIE! HI KEN! [part 3, LH44 smau]

Lewis Hamilton x pregnant!reader [social media au]

Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part 1, LH44 smau] & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part 2, LH 44 smau]

Summary: Lewis and his "real-life Barbie" girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N have a secret they keep from the fans. Though it's only matter of time before they announce the happy news... it's not like it can stay hidden forever anyways.

Warnings: Pregnancy. Slight hate and bodyshaming towards Y/N. If you're not in the right headspace, please don't read it!🫶

Author's Note: After quite some time, hello! I'm so sorry this took so long, but life has been so busy and hectic last month I simply didn't have time and energy to write this sooner. Though I'm very glad for everyone who waited for this part and I hope you'll like it. It's probably not the last one, I have few ideas for more parts. But I don't want to promise anything, we all know how long this part took XD.

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by orlandobloom, f1, sebastianvettel, emmawatson and others

tagged: yourcharity

lewishamilton So proud to support charity program for the involvement of children from disadvantaged families in sports yourusername has been working on for a few years now. All money raised from the friendly basketball match goes to the fond of the charity. Let's change lives of these talented kids together! 💫🙏🏾

view all 18,349 comments

user1 basketball players should be grateful our king chose to be f1 driver 😌

user2 fr

yourusername together we can change the world for better!! 💫💕

liked by the author

user3 You make our lives better by existing Y/N😍😍

user4 I think this is too idealistic lol

user5 queen speaking facts and keeping us motivated

user6 LET HER COOK 🗣🗣🗣

user7 Sir Lewis Hamilton is Sir for a reason 👑

mercedesamgf1 🙏🤍

user8 even though he'll be driving for ferrari next year mercedes still supports him!!!

user9 and what did you think? that they'll ignore him or hate him suddenly? he still got a whole season w them 🤣 plus it's all marketing

user10 nah i'll just live in delusion that admin loves lewis & y/n🥰🥰🥰🥰

user11 I love how you use your platform to raise awareness

user12 omg he's so hot 🥵

user13 Wait, why is Lewis at Y/N's charity event instead of her? I usually support her, but this is just weird... why can't she stand up for her own thing?

user14 RIGHT?! idk why she didn't even bother showing there

user15 Honestly I think that Lewis going there brings more attention to it than just her going there, and it's a good thing people are noticing this organization. Though I don't understand why she didn't go there as well 🤷‍♀️

user16 guys stop wtf she could be sick or smth

user14 or she's just another attention seeker... never liked her tbh

user16 the only attention seeker here is u user14 get a life and stop hating 😘

user14 i'm not hating, i'm stating facts and unlike y/n i don't need a man to do shit for me lmfao

user17 Y'all are really getting mad over nothing xddd

user18 Amazing work! 👏 you make the difference, Lewis😍🖤💛

user19 the fact he has pink pants bc it's y/n's fav color and it's for a charity event she helped organize... i want a man like him 😩

user20 He's down bad for her!!!

user21 I mean... who wouldn't, just look at her🤭

user22 fr what i'd give to talk to y/n once

user23 Our fashion barbie iconic Queen 💖💖

user24 Lew giving the little boy a fist bump🥹

user25 he is going to be a great dad one day

user24 Oh definitely!🫶

user26 can't wait for dad lewis

user27 omggg imagine little him and y/n running around the paddock 😭😭

user26 they'll be sooo cute istg

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, landonorris, isahernaez and 639,910 others

tagged: mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco

yourusername japan grand prix w my favs 🇯🇵🤍

view all 4,249 comments

lewishamilton 🤍🤍

liked by the author

user1 awww i live for bf lewis

user2 YOU DESERVE SOMEONE BETTER

user3 and who would that be user2 ?? you? lmfao u wish🤣🤣

user4 the disrespect of writing these things under HIS COMMENT where he shows SUPPORT to HIS GIRLFRIEND...

user5 Lewis & Y/N 4ever 🫶

user6 omg look at roscoe baby so cute

user7 the teeth I can't🥹

user8 It's Roscoe's world and we're just living in it fr

alexandrasaintmleux so prettyyy 🙏🌺

liked by lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco

yourusername oh stoppp u are prettier 💓💐

user9 Girls supporting girls and wags supporting wags... that's what we like!!!!

user10 the fact lewis liked alex's comment w two accounts is the best thing that happened this week😭

user11 shut uppp I didn't even notice it before user10 😭 he's such a simp I love this 😭😭

user10 i knoooow😭

user12 finally you attended a grand prix this year!!!!

user13 😍😍😍😍😍

mercedesamgf1 It's always brighter with you in the paddock Barbie Y/N!💖

liked by the author, lewishamilton and carmenmmundt

yourusername next time i'm going all out w the pink 💖🫶

user14 the legend herselffff

user15 Admin is slaying and supporting Y/N 💁‍♀️

user16 MOTHER IS SERVING ONCE AGAIN🧎🏻‍♀️

roscoelovescoco Enjoying's dad's racing's w my's best's mum's ☺️🏎

yourusername enjoying dad racing w my best son 🥹💕

user17 not roscoe slowly learning y/n's slang and saying w instead of with🤭

user18 and the fact Lewis is the one really writing it... !!!!!

user19 They're such cute a family🥰

user20 mum and dad and son... I can't it's too adorable 🫠❤️‍🩹

user21 Literally the queen of f1 and gorgeousness keep slaying

user22 where is the usual barbie aesthetic?!😥

user23 fr I want pink dresses not blue trousers

user24 Guys she can wear whatever she wants

user23 yeah true but still... she already built that image so why not keep it wtf 🤷‍♀️

user25 Covering her fat stomach with the purse ewww 🤢🥴

user26 i wanna take u haters seriously... but I just can't xd

user27 if you have anger issues like me and don't like online trolls, pls stop scrolling people! there are so many dumb users from twitter in these comments!🙃

user28 I just don't get why they're hating on Y/N all of sudden... what did she ever do to them

user29 idk, probably bcs she wasn't active for a while (she was probably not feeling well or smth as she said in an interview few days back) and didn't attend any gp till japan this year (again she was probably sick so understandable)... plus lot of f1 "fans" are jealous bitches change my mind

user30 Internet always moves in waves and one time everybody loves u and then they hate u 😬

user31 yeah but it's so sad cause y/n is such a sweetheart🥺❤️

user32 I honestly wouldn't care about the haters if they didn't attack her body and the way she looks... that's down right embarrassing and disgusting

user33 AGREED user32

twitter & messages between Y/N and Lewis

lewishamilton and yourusername posted on instagram

liked by maxverstappen1, shawnmendes, t22felton, charles_leclerc and 27,925,028 others

lewishamilton It's hard to put into words how happy and excited we are. Can't wait to hold our baby in a few months and support my dearest love on every step of the way. Feeling blessed right now 🤍🪐

comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc Well, that's a shocking news I didn't know about this time...😂

charles_leclerc But big congratulations!❤️

yourusername yeah we needed to give u heart attack w smth too 😉💋

susie_wolff Congratulations Lewis and Y/N, you will be great parents! 💫🫶

yourusername thx susie, we have great role models in u and toto!!! ✨❤️‍🩹

lewishamilton 🫶🏾🫶🏾

kellypiquet what a great news!🥹

yourusername love u kelly 💕

sebastianvettel Many congratulations!

lewishamilton Thank you Seb!

yourusername will u be the fun uncle??? pls seb 🥹🙏

sebastianvettel If you'll make me their godfather....

yourusername done deal 🤝

lewishamilton I-... fair enough, done deal

fencer EXCUSE ME?!! THAT'S NOT FAIR

charles_leclerc Yeah what is this favorism?!

yourusername guys it's seb how could we say no 😌✨

charles_leclerc True... fair enough then I guess 🙂

fencer I still feel VERY offended

yourusername charles don't use that ironic emoji on me and fencer u can have the second child

lewishamilton Darling that sounds like you're sacrificing our second child while the first one isn't even born yet...

yourusername whoops 🫢🙈

sebastianvettel Do you realize this is not a private conversation?

yourusername actually u can set selected comments private seb 😁

charles_leclerc Wait seriously?!

lewishamilton No, she's just testing if he's old enough to believe her 🙄

yourusername you're sour bc u believed me the first time i tried it love ☺️🫶

sebastianvettel This is exactly why I didn't have Instagram sooner.

charles_lecerc We love you Seb!❤️

yourusername yeah we do love u our new godfather!!!!💖

mercedesamgf1 Congratulations from the whole team!🤩🤍

liked by the author

alexandrasaintmleux awww so happy for both of u!💞

yourusername hope you're prepared to be the fav auntie 🤭💋

alexandrasaintmleux anything for my little nephew or niece hamilton 🫡

scuderiaferrari The next world champion on the way?😍❤️

yourusername pls i hope they'll stay far away from racing 😭

scuderiaferrari Well... then we'll at least get another tifosi 😉

georgerussell68 Wishing all the best mate!

liked by the author

landonorris Wooohooo congrats!!!

landonorris Wait- do y'all realize you'll be parents now? Like real REAL parents of an actual child?!

yourusername yeah lando that's how it usually works when u get pregnant 😊

landonorris Yeah but... wait! The child needs to be McLaren fan!

yourusername your mission to get all hamiltons to be your fan is getting more complicated, isn't it? 😂🫢

landonorris Shhhh Y/N it's a secret mission 🤫

yourusername oh my bad sry

yourusername wait why do i know about it then???

landonorris Ehhh... miscalculation?

yourusername tf lando 😭

lewishamilton I'm starting to think this baby will be our second child and Lando is our first...

landonorris Wow so can I officially say Lewis Hamilton is my daddy now?😀

lewishamilton NO

yourusername lando don't you dare or istg

landonorris Byeee parents!! 🤗

f1 Let's go! 💖👶

francisca.cgomes babyyyyy 🤎🍂

pierregasly Why the leaves?

francisca.cgomes bcs it's an autumn babyyyyy

yourusername love u kika 💕

pierregasly Oh congrats by the way!🫶

yourusername thx pierre 💕

logansargeant RAAAAAHHH 🇺🇸🦅

logansargeant Sorry alex_albon took my phone 😒 I wanted to say congratulations!🤍

alex_albon 😇

yourusername lol

yourusername but thx sm logan, you're such a sweetheart! 🫶

lilymhe I swear it'll be the cutest baby ever

yourusername babe it'll totally will if u say so 💋

kevinmagnussen 🙌

hulkhulkenberg Welcome to the dad's club on the grid Lewis! 😉

liked by the author

oscarpiastri What a happy day, congratulations! 🧡

yourusername what's the orange heart doing here oscahh??? 🤨

oscarpiastri 💖

oscarpiastri Better now?

yourusername thx oscar sm for the congrats!🥰 also you should use my signature heart emoji more often 💖

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by haileybieber, martagarcialopez19, mercedesamgf1 and 834,981 others

tagged: lewishamilton and alexandrasaintmleux

yourusername enjoying the barbie life 💖💐

view all 2,013 comments

lewishamilton Beautiful, gorgeous and my Barbie!

yourusername awww my ken 💞🫶

user1 omg i love them sm

user2 I wanna have what they have

user3 the effect bf Lewis has on me should be studied 😩

user4 Just the fact he usually isn't active on ig and doesn't comment or anything... and she is the only exception😭🤭

user5 gorgeous literally so gorgeous

user6 The baby bump 🥹🥹

user7 and she looks so good with it too 🥹🥹

alexandrasaintmleux such good times hanging out with my fav barbie! 💋💖

yourusername the best times girly!!! 💕

user8 i live for this friendship

user9 Imagine these two next year in Ferrari garage together!😍

user10 literally the only good thing coming out of lewis leaving mercedes

user11 fr fr user10

user12 Are those flowers from Lewis???

roscoelovescoco Yeah's they'res from's dad's 🌻☺️

user13 OH MY GOD ROSCOE HIIII

user12 Can't believe Lewis Hamilton replied to my comment as his dog 😭

user13 lol user12 u really won life xd

user14 this is sooo cuteee 😻

user15 You and Alex look so good together! Hope you'll be friends forever!

kellypiquet where's the bag from? it's so pretty! 😍🤍

yourusername idk lew gave it to me for christmas last year... i'll ask and let u know!! 🤍🫶

kellypiquet 🫶

user16 The queens of the paddock right here 🙌

user17 still can't believe y/n & lewis are going to be parent in a few months

user18 RIGHT?! It's like a fever dream for me 😭

user19 Yeah i was excited for dad Lewis so long that now I can't believe it's finally happening 🤭❤️

user20 the best wag right here

user21 and soon the best mum!

user22 Ur STUNNING 😭💖

user23 Woman 💅

user24 proud to say i never hated on Y/N

user25 YES

user26 always knew she's the queen 👸💗

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by naomischiff, gigihadid, susie_wolff, riabish and 2,452,906 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton My beautiful Barbie. The love of my life. My partner for good times and bad times. Mother of my child. The only woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Y/N Y/L/N. 💖💫

view all 31,274 comments

yourusername can't describe in words how much i love u lew!!! 💖💫

lewishamilton Love you too darling, so much!

user1 I can't 😭

user2 i wanna have what they have

user3 THE BEST COUPLE EVER

user4 if they ever break up love isn't real

user5 I'll tell my children they are the original Barbie & Ken

user6 my parents 🥰

user7 y'all don't understand how much i love them

user8 The best parents ever!!!!

roscoelovescoco Mums looking's gorgeous 🥹☀️

lewishamilton She in fact is.

yourusername my boys making me cry 🥹💓

roscoelovescoco Oh's no's mums don't cry's 🙁

yourusername don't worry baby it's happy tears 💞

user9 now I'm crying too... this is so sweet

user10 The reason they're my favs😍

user11 why is this so precious 😭😭

user12 so prettyyyy

kellypiquet Our Barbie looking like a goddess!💅🏻💝

liked by the author

yourusername thx kelly!!!💕

user13 she's fr glowing 😻

user14 Thought she can't get more beautiful than she was before but pregnancy proved me wrong

user15 MARRY HER

user16 we love bf lewis dedicating whole post to y/n 🤭🤭

voguemagazine 🤩📸

user17 ariana what are u doing here?!??!!

user18 Even Vogue is an Y/N fan and we love it

user19 y'all don't understand how bad i need her to be on the cover of vogue or some other magazine 😩

user20 OMG user19 SHE WOULD SLAY IT TOO HARD

user21 You should marry her now!!! 💍💍

liked by roscoelovescoco

user22 heyyy did someone else see lewis like it and then un-like it?!😧

user21 When the notification of roscoelovescoco liking my comment came up on my phone I nearly dropped it and screamed... like what? Excuse me sir!!! 😃

user23 LOL I love how he goes savage liking comments w his dog's account and then regrets it immediately xd

user24 guuuyyyssss what if it means we'll get proposal soon???☺️

user21 I wish!!!!

twitter

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you for reading it to the end! I'll be very grateful for likes, comments, reblogs and every other sign of support. Also you can let me know if you think baby Hamilton will be a girl or boy 🤭. Have a great weekend! (Btw if someone wants to talk about their predictions for Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, they're welcomed bcs I don't have anyone to talk to about it XD)

Taglist: @namgification @hc-dutch @bloodyymaryyy @nat-lh-44 @cosmoscoffeee @daniellef89x @xoscar03 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @nathalielovesonedirection @raizelchrysanderoctavius @leclerc16s @carpediem241108 @onecojg (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[hollowdeath]

Oh hello, I just wanted to tell you that what you wrote is amazing! I read it over and over and couldn't stop reading. You are soooo amazing! *((Ugly crying😭❤️))*

And umm.. I would like to share about the imagination in my head about Dark Harry Potter. He joins the Lord Voldemort and betrayed all his friends. When the war ended, the Lord's side Voldemort wins. Everything is in chaos but Harry ignores it all because he only cares about the reader, his old girlfriend. (Harry still loves the reader even though the reader hates Harry.) He might have requested that the Lord Voldemort gave the reader as a reward to him after the war. Something like that, and ummm, a drama that is both bitter and sad and angry at the same time full of longing for each other? A rough and sad lovemaking? 🥺

hi! thank you so much for requesting! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: dark!harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: harry's all-consuming anger successfully tempts him to join voldemort in the war, sending you, his girlfriend, away in an attempt to keep you safe. years later he asks for your return, and is met with bitterness and rage as you struggle to navigate your feelings for each other in a post-war world.

c/w: smut!!! angst!! slow burn! mentions/threats of weapons, violence, abuse, and death/murder. smut is all the way at the end (grinding, oral, penetration, submissive!harry & dominant!reader) lightly edited, not book/movie/canon accurate

word count: 12.6k

a/n: this is giving me manacled x star wars and i love it lol, so so so much fun to write. i tried to make the reader more angst-y and dominant than normal, so if you like this please let me know! sorry if the plot doesn't make much sense. i also started school this week so please be patient with me! going to try and start posting shorter blurbs/headcanons between requests <3

harry was standing at a window in the lord's manor, watching the street below him as people sulked aimlessly by. it was a typical, gloomy day, the clouds gathering heavily above. it had been raining for weeks, maybe even months at this point, and it was beginning to cast a permanent gray shadow across the city. not even the weather could escape the tragedies of the war.

though harry chose to not dwell on the war, he felt its lingering effects. even from his lofty spot in the comfort of the lord's castle, which he barely left anymore. its walls had become harry's second skin. so long as he had everything delivered to him whenever he desired, it was disgusting to him to even think of stepping outside.

yet still, harry could see the abandoned and damaged shops just outside the lord's gates lining the courtyard along the cobblestone streets. the burnt remains of what once was. the sunken-in faces of the remaining people in the city. the lack of light, the lack of life, the lack of magic.

there's a part of harry, a weak cry from deep inside his repressed past, that feels bad. he was once a young wizard with bright eyes walking the streets of these same shops. he once enjoyed the sounds of shared happiness, and found solace in the fact that despite his lack of, there would always be joy in the world around him.

however, as harry grew older, and the circumstances around him shifted, he found himself getting angrier more often. not just on a weekly basis over small interactions or mistakes, but all the time, from the moment he was awoken by his nightmares to the moment he fell back into them. harry simply had no room inside of him left for anything else. it was just anger. pure, unbridled anger that only caused annoyance at first, then small outbursts of irritation after a while, and, eventually, he couldn't look at anyone or anything without wanting to physically destroy it for no reason other than he was just angry.

harry was angry at the world for having magic in it in the first place. he hated the divide it caused between muggles and non-muggles, pure bloods and half bloods. he was angry that divide is what took his parents from him before he could even properly know them. he was angry he had to grow up in abuse and neglect under the guise of 'safety'. he was angry he never received an apology, an admittance of guilt, not even a hint of closure for the past that was still controlling his present.

the boy who used to risk his life to save hogwarts and the students inside of it would eventually be the same one to let them fall.

when voldemort came back, and harry's anger was at its worst, he knew there was a connection. he didn't know about horcruxes yet and he certainly didn't know he was one. and yet he knew, somewhere deep inside him again, that it wasn't a coincidence. there was a reason his anger was consuming him, and the reason was voldemort.

after cedric's death, harry had begun to spiral. the nightmares were worse than before, he felt deathly paranoid constantly, and couldn't escape the intruding memories of the graveyard. though harry had managed well enough afterwards, still suppressing his rage, he couldn't hide the change in his personality from those closest to him. ron and hermione were the first to bring it up, but, of course, harry had snapped and told them to mind the business that pays them. despite his resistance, they tried until the very end to help their best friend see through his anger, to remember what was right and wrong.

however, once sirius was dead, it was all over.

harry had simply lost any hope that was left within him. watching sirius fall through the veil, his eyes lifeless and cold, was like watching harry himself die. he didn't think he could get any lower, and then he watched the only family he had left be cursed just within his reach.

harry was never the same after that. when he sat in bed late at night staring at the marauders map in his lap, he thought about how much he hated this life that's been made for him. the boy who lived, the scape goat, the hero, our only hope. it was crushing. harry was just a boy. he wanted to live a normal life.

but he knew he never could. not after tom riddle, not after cedric, not after sirius. even if everything went away tomorrow and harry could just attend his classes and be with his friends, nothing would change. he would still be alone, he would still be angry, and he would still suffer from his traumas. what was the point in fighting for good or living to see the end when you would always end up alone?

except, harry wasn't alone, really. he had you.

if there was one thing in this lifetime, one thing throughout this entire war that could have saved harry, it was you.

you and harry had been classmates for a year or so before really getting to know each other, and started dating not long after. when you were around, harry knew there was something worth fighting for. though he may feel angry and everything and everyone and everything everyone said, harry could never truly be mad with you. it's like when you looked at him the anger was muted, numb, deep inside him, and as soon as someone would interrupt it was bubbling at the surface again.

you were worried about harry, of course, and saw the effects his anger had on his relationships with everyone else around him. besides you.

he remembers you clearly, still to this day, and just how upset you were anytime he lashed out. if he'd felt anything other than anger at that time, it would've been guilt. guilt for hurting you, for scaring you. guilt, but not guilty enough to stop.

the anger was stronger.

even when you asked him, begged him, please, harry, please stop letting your anger win, and even when he promised, swore on his own grave, that he would try harder to stop for you, he never did.

harry was beyond angry. he was spiteful. all he had ever been was kind, a pushover who gave everyone the respect he was never graced with. he's saved strangers who wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire. he's lost his family in their sacrifice for the greater good that now rested upon harry's 16 year old shoulders.

he was beginning to think the fight wasn't worth it.

not only did the fight for good no longer seem worthy to harry, the fight against it only seemed to become more enticing. why should harry continue to risk his life and sanity when there would always be fights of blood purity? why should he be the hero everyone else has always wanted him to be?

for a long time, the answer was you. you were reason enough for harry to keep fighting, to keep his anger under control. when he looked at you things made sense for just a moment, his suffering was worth it to see you alive and well. until it wasn't.

everyone has a breaking point, and harry felt like he had finally reached his. as the war had geared up to a point of no return, harry had to make a decision. he had always assumed his decision was already made for him since birth, but he soon realized he never actually had to follow this path set for him in the first place. he was free to do as he pleased. he wasn't dumbledore, he wasn't his parents, he wasn't even the hero everyone thought he was. he was angry. he was spiteful.

worse than that, harry was vengeful.

so, when he met voldemort in the woods during the battle of hogwarts to accept his death, harry instead offered him a proposal the dark lord simply couldn't refuse. harry potter, his living horcrux, would become his successor upon his death. harry would fight with and for voldemort, training to become the most powerful dark wizard in history, and to finally let tom riddle rest well knowing the world was in just as dark, evil hands as his own.

though voldemort was skeptical at first, naturally, as harry expected him to be, he could eventually see the darkness within harry nearly consuming him whole. he was as serious as death itself. he no longer had the desire within him to continue fighting for, what he saw as, a lost cause. voldemort was rather pleased with this news, though never expected harry to come around like he did. he hadn't even considered it, really. but who was he to deny his own successor?

upon harry's return to hogwarts with voldemort and his death eaters in tow, every single person who watched was stunned into silence. even mcgonagall, who had been instructing and encouraging the students all night in their fight, had become speechless and teary eyed at the sight. ron had to catch hermione, who nearly fell to the floor.

but nobody was as upset as you were.

you had already been sobbing watching harry walk off into the woods towards his own death thinking you would never see him alive again. only to watch him emerge from the same treeline with the enemy by his side. it's like you got kicked in the gut. you would've almost rather never seen harry again.

"harry!" you had screamed in a broken voice as he crossed the bridge, voldemort's snake slithering at his feet. you were running to him, breaking through the multiple arms that tried to hold you back.

voldemort tried to raise his wand to you, but harry had stopped him, telling him to let him handle it. he was suspicious at first, still not fully trusting harry's intentions just yet, but was reassured by the sinister look in his eyes.

harry looked at you. he remembers feeling a twinge of that same guilt from before, the tiniest spark of hope deep within his rage. he really did love you, at least at some point he did. you would've made all of this worth it, you would've been the reason to keep going. but not even you were reason enough anymore. for so long he had been ready to take his revenge on the world that failed him.

"harry, what are you doing?" you had asked him, voice shaking. you were almost whispering, your eyes nervously glancing towards voldemort every other second in fear for your safety. harry grabbed your hands but you pulled them back, a look of disgust coming across your face.

"come with me." harry had told you. your look of disgusted transformed into shock, anger, confusion, and guilt. there were mumblings coming from the crowd of students behind you. "what?" you had asked, nearly breathless at this point, your eyes searching him for answers.

"come with me, [y/n]. i want you by my side as i become the most powerful dark lord in the world." harry explained, taking steps towards you with an excited grin on his face, his eyes still dark with corruption. you were still in shock when he grabbed for your hands. he kissed your knuckles softly with a quiet, "i love you,"

he had meant it, but not like he used to.

it took a few moments of silence and some tense eye contact before you pulled your hands away, letting the tears fall again as you attempted to gather your words. "you can't do this, harry. i will never join the dark lord. you know this isn't right, why are you doing this? why? why?" you're practically begging for an answer as harry looked away, an irritated expression on his face, clenching his jaw together. your hands reached for his shirt and jacket, trying to shake some sense into him as you grasped them tightly and pulled him closer.

"don't you love me?" you had asked him in the most heartbreaking, soul crushing voice. your words were weak, but your sentiment was palpable. you were bloody, dirty, covered in scars from fighting, holding harry close to you as you begged him with wide eyes. not too much earlier in the year he would've folded immediately looking at you, so innocent and desperate, his last bit of hope in the world.

but it was already far too late.

"take her to azkaban," harry had announced, angling his head back to the deatheaters behind him, keeping his eyes locked with yours. your grip on his clothes loosened and shocked gasps came from the crowd. harry looked at voldemort, who was a bit puzzled by the situation, but backed up harry's real nonetheless. "you heard the boy," he snapped towards the men behind him.

the deatheaters walked towards you as you stepped away from harry. "no, no, no, stop!" you were screaming, trying to back away from them, but they had grabbed your arms aggressively and began dragging you towards the bridge. "[y/n]!" a few students had shouted, running towards you before their attempts were blocked by a wave of voldemort's wand. the students fell to the ground, watching helplessly as you continued to fight your way out of the deatheaters' grasps. harry stood still, emotionless, completely stoic as he heard your desperate wails and calls for his name disappear into the woods behind him.

the rest of that night or day or whatever it was has since been completely blocked out of harry's mind, forever. his rage had reached a level he didn't know was possible. all he could recall anymore is the blood, the screaming, the running, and the light of his wand in his hand. many students and professors died during that battle at his hand, along with voldemort's and the deatheaters'. the castle was then burned to the ground, signifying the end of the battle. hogwarts had never stood a chance.

and, now, harry stands in the dark lord's manor, staring at the abandoned buildings lining his street, and he's thinking of you.

he often wondered how life would have been if you had joined him that day. though his years since have been packed with death, fights, destruction, and chaos, there were moments alone or in peril where you crossed his mind like a gentle breeze. a simpler part of his past, a light in his darkness. your soft, kind eyes, wide with shock as you back away from him, fixated on the deatheaters coming to collect you. your sweet, melodic voice screaming and breaking as you were dragged away, fighting for your freedom. harry could remember the moment perfectly despite everything else in his life being a blur.

he wonders how you would have filled the role as his partner in crime after choosing him. two dark lords unstoppable against the forces of the wizarding world, fighting 'good' and spreading evil just as he had been this whole time. would you have succumbed easily to the temptation? would you be as dark as harry was? could you maybe even be darker?

but harry knew it was a fruitless endeavor from the beginning. he had wanted to ask you anyways, to at least give you a chance to make the decision to be with him, even if he already knew what your response would be. harry was a bit let down at first, hoping maybe there was enough love between you to push morals aside, but he knew he would never be that lucky. part of why he fell in love with you way before his anger began was your commitment and dedication to what you believed was right. that same trait would be the driving force behind his decision to lock you away.

harry knew you. and he knew you wouldn't stop fighting until your body gave out, and maybe even after that. he may have lost you by sending you to azkaban for the foreseeable future of the war, but he'd rather know you were safe somewhere solitary than spend his years wondering where your dead body had been rotting into the dirt all this time. though azkaban was desolate, dark, isolated, and torturous, it allowed harry to sleep at night thinking of your still-beating heart resting safely behind those impenetrable walls.

lately his nights had become more restless, though, as the thought of you still residing in azkaban began to sit with him. he didn't feel guilt, really, he knew it was what was ultimately best for you. but he did miss you.

after the war had died down and voldemort took his place as the rightful dark lord of the world, harry's anger began to subside for the first time in years. rather than rage fueling his insatiable desire to destroy, he felt incredibly numb and disengaged with everything around him. the desolate streets and grim sky and abandoned city outside the windows began to fit his mental state more and more. for the first time since he was a teenager, harry could see past the anger.

and all he wanted was you.

so, harry had reached out to the dark lord, who spent most of his time at his new ministry castle across the country from the old manor he let harry watch over. they communicated every so often, checking in on business and social matters, but otherwise never had to meet in person. 

harry sent him a letter asking for your release and direct delivery to his household, barring from reason. he felt after the war he had lead with and for voldemort, he owed harry a singular favor all these years later.

it only took 2 days for a confirmation letter to be sent back to harry, signed by voldemort himself, dating your arrival for the next day.

harry had his house elf, jinx, make up your room, asking her to be sure it was comfortable and clean before your delivery tomorrow afternoon, and to also provide plenty of options for dinner.

harry spent all night thinking about you, wondering what you'd look like after all this time. how similar or different you would be from what he remembers. how you'd react to seeing him. he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't react well, likely needing an extended period of alone time to adjust being here before he'd ever get a civil moment with you. but he was up for the challenge, otherwise he'd never ask for your return in the first place. he was releasing his anger, and instead building his patience, if not just to hold you one more time.

there was a delicious smell filling the mansion as the clock drew nearer to your arrival. harry was dressed better than he had been in years, and had jinx make the usually desolate looking building feel warm and inviting. fireplaces roaring, warm lamps flooding the hallways, and the grand dining table set to perfection for 2 particular guests.

harry didn't want to make it too obvious, but it was hard for him to hide how excited he was to see you again. even if you were different, even if you hated him, all he wanted was to see you in person, his eyes locking with yours for the first time since the day you were dragged away at his command.

once the hour was upon him, harry could hear footsteps and voices on the second floor. his heart leaped, setting down his glass of wine before heading for the stairs.

"let go of me, let go of me," a strained voice was crying down the hall, the sounds of a struggle coming from harry's left. he saw two house elves, rather squat and bulky, holding onto the arms of a frail body covered in a simple striped prison dress.

one elf turned to harry and gave him a devilish grin, "ah, there's the man himself!" he growled, his partner turning as well. "sorry we were late, mr. potter, someone here wasn't too keen on leaving azkaban, for some reason," he apologizes, pulling at the arm he's holding.

you slowly turn your head and stop struggling, your eyes wide with fear and mouth dropped open. "harry?" you whispered to yourself, your knees nearly giving out beneath you before the elves aggressively pulled you back up.

the first elf groans, rolling his eyes at you. "where can we put her, huh?" he asks, his tone impatient. harry pulls a few gold coins out of his pocket and hands them over to both of the elves. "right here is just fine. thank you, boys," he tells them.

the elves happily accept the tips and drop you to the ground, quickly disappearing in a flash.

you're left heavily breathing on the floor of the hall, sniffling and groaning in pain before diverting your attention to harry. your eyes were still wide, your eyebrows creased in confusion as you tried to move yourself further away from him on your hands and knees.

harry gave you your space, but watched intently as you nervously increased the distance between both of you. your hair was long, tangled, greasy, and falling around you like a curtain. you were smaller than he remembered, your eyes sunken in and cheeks more hollowed than before. you were pale, and visibly dirty. the soles of your feet were nearly black.

harry felt a pain in his stomach, his blood pressure rising imagining how you lived inside the walls of the prison. he couldn't identify the feeling. it was different from anger, but it wasn't far off.

as you continued to back up, your eyes shifted to a widow on your right. you slowly gained the energy to lift yourself and reach for the window, throwing it open before attempting to stick your hand out.

your hand hit the open window like you had never moved the glass barrier. you continued trying to stick your hand and head out, hitting at the invisible barrier with all your strength, making frustrated sounds.

"there's a spell on the house, love. you can't leave, just for now, until we can work things out," harry tried to explain gently as you continued trying to escape. he took a step towards you and you stepped away, leaning on the wall for support as you began to cry harder.

"get away from me, get away, what the fuck, what the fuck is happening," you tried to shout at him, your faced turned away and other arm putting distance between you and harry. you were gasping for air, your voice stressed and broken, shaking your head as you tried to continue backing up into the wall.

harry still attempted to give you your space. he hated to see you like this. you were so defensive and scared of everything going on around you. he wanted to give you time to calm down, but felt you needed to know what was going on.

"[y/n]," harry said, causing your head to snap towards him with curious eyes. your arm lowered slightly, your knees still weak beneath you. "listen to me, okay? just for a second," harry tried to ask kindly. he hadn't realized just how long it had been since he talked to someone this gently.

you continued to stand defensively, your eyes scanning harry up and down nervously as your breathing slowly started to still.

harry sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before turning his attention to you again. "i know this is a lot, and i know it's confusing," he starts, his voice unexpectedly shaky. "but i asked voldemort, and i had you released from azkaban. i figured you may like a warm place to stay, so i had you brought here,"

you still looked confused for a moment before you narrowed your eyes, your arm coming up once again to defend yourself. "what are you talking about? where are we?" you asked harry suspiciously, still scanning him from head to toe.

"my manor. well, the lord's manor, but, essentially mine," harry says a bit awkwardly. you gave him a look of disgust, leaning further into the wall for support. "why would i want to be here? with you?" you practically spat at him with hatred in your eyes. harry was unaffected.

"i know you don't. but there's nowhere else to go. i promise." harry tells you solemnly. your eyes widen a bit again, a flash of fear coming across your face, but the anger quickly returns.

"i'd rather live in rubble than prop my feet up in the dark lord's manor," you say sharply, taking a step towards him in attempt to intimidate him. though you weren't much shorter than harry, you were weak, and tired, and he wasn't necessarily afraid of your threats.

he took a step back anyways, giving you more space. "look," he says, his eyes turning to the floor before he can steady his breathing and reply. "it's just for now. if you really don't want to stay, i won't make you." he says softly before returning his eyes to yours. they're not as bright as he remembers them in his dreams about you.

"but," he says, causing your jaw to clench. "you will stay until you're well again. and it's not up for debate." harry tells you firmly, his tone not as gentle as before.

you swallow harshly, your stomach growling audibly as the smell of the food downstairs begins to settle into your senses.

harry notices this and smirks to himself before quickly returning to a neutral state. "now," he announces, straightening out his blazer. "until the food is ready, there's a room made up for you just down this hall and to your left. it has a bathroom, and clothes. take all the time you need." he says before promptly turning on his heels and heading downstairs, his heart still racing from his encounter with you.

sitting in the living room watching the fireplace in front of him, harry eventually hears the door of your new bedroom click open and swiftly close. not long after he can hear the plumbing rumble as you take your first shower. he smiles at the fact that you're finally in his life once more, even if the circumstances were completely unusual.

harry's nearly concerned and wanting to send jinx to check on you after 2 hours of running water before it stops, the sound of the bathroom fan taking its place. harry's relieved.

"jinx, could tell our guest the foods ready," harry tells the elf as she brings the last tray from the kitchen to the dining room. she nods to herself, shuffling up the stairs sluggishly.

harry's pouring another glass of wine in the kitchen and decides to pour you one as well. on his way into the dining room, he sees you standing in the entryway. you're dressed in a large jumper, oversized pajamas bottoms, and your hair is still rather wet plopped into a bun on top of your head. your skin is rubbed raw, your cheeks still flushed pink as you analyze the table full of food in front of you.

harry smiles at your shocked gaze, your stomach growling again as he tries to hand you your glass of wine. you turn your nose at him, taking a step back. he smiles curtly and heads to his seat, setting your glass with his.

"figured you might be hungry," harry says as he sits down, his plate made for him already. he looks at you, arms still crossed, nose turned away, but eyes peeking at the endless food at your disposal. he can tell you're trying to keep your guard up, but your stomach hasn't stopped rumbling since you came downstairs.

he gestures to your chair just across from him, a plate made for you as well. you look at him, your eyes curious but expression still tight. you carefully take a step closer to the table, but you're still weary.

harry gives you a sympathetic smile. "after tonight you can have any meal you want in your solitude. i just thought i'd be nice and host my guest for the first night," he tells you, catching your gaze.

your curious look quickly turns to one of anger. "i'm not your guest. i'm practically a prisoner again." you hiss, your eyes boring into his with contempt. harry can sense the rage building inside of you. he's familiar with the feeling.

though you were different in so many ways, your dull eyes and lifeless voice, you were also similar in your determined attitude. you had always been the type to stand up and take charge, which harry completely admired and was impressed by. he found your beauty to be most potent in your strong will and cunning mind.

he admired you for just a moment, looking down at him with enough hatred to send shivers over his body. you looked so young, your skin supple and smooth under the light of the candles and fireplace, your hair falling loosely to frame your furrowed brow. you were just as pretty as he remembered, even if your expression always contained a hint of sadness and fear around him.

harry simply smiles softly, sitting back in his chair. "i prefer guest," he says teasingly. you suddenly snap at him, grabbing for his steak knife and pushing your arm to his neck against the back of the chair, holding the point of the knife to the side of his neck.

if looks could kill, the knife would've been unnecessary. your eyes were nearly black as you shakily push against harry's throat. "let me out of here now or i swear, harry," your voice cracks saying his name. "i swear i'll fucking kill you," you spit, leaning further into your grasp him on, your jaw clenched tightly.

harry, to your surprise, just chuckles to himself, not even struggling to breathe as he looks up at you deviously. your eyes widen just before you feel your arms start to move for you, as well as your legs. your neck is strained as well, an invisible force pushing you away from harry as the knife drops from your hand.

you're suddenly released from the mysterious grasp, and you choke out a breath, looking back at harry. he's smirking, but trying not to let you see as his pointed hand lowers from you. he fixes his shirt and chair, gesturing again to your seat across from him. "as thrilling as that was, love, not yet. i'd like you to stay here for at least a month before i consider placing you elsewhere." harry states, picking his knife back up to place on the table.

you stare at harry incredulously. "a month?" you ask, your face turning red again. you take another step towards him but you falter in fear of him using the same force as before to stop you. you stumble as your mind races to gather your thoughts. "how…you…i'm not staying here for a month! this is insanity! how could you send me away like that and just bring me back like it was nothing? a shower and a plate of food and suddenly those 5 years in azkaban never happened?"

you're now shouting at harry with a broken voice, your emotions on high as the tears threaten to fall again. harry watches you, just watches, and simply gestures to your chair again. "just join me," he insists.

you go to yell again, but harry sternly interrupts. "we can discuss this another time. please. sit down." he commands from you.

your mask drops for a moment, a look of fear crossing your face before diverting your eyes away completely to your chair. your stomach growls again, your hand covering it to hide the sound.

it takes a few moments until you slowly make your way to sit down, glancing at harry before taking your seat. harry begins eating silently, and, not long after, you're digging into your first real plate of food in years.

harry can't help but smile to himself subtly watching you indulge yourself for a moment, the mask slipping again as you gratefully shovel spoonfuls of food into your mouth with a sigh of relief. he was glad you were eating, even if he had to put up a bit of a fight to convince you.

as harry finishes up, you're still making your way through your second plate. he stands, grabbing your attention and making you curl back into your seat. "jinx," he calls out before sipping the last of his wine. jinx comes to the table and grabs harry's glass and plate, turning to take them to the kitchen. 

"[y/n], this is jinx," harry motions to the elf, who gives you a warm smile. you return the smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "if you ever need anything, anything at all, don't be afraid to ask her. she lives to serve," harry tells you proudly, earning a slight look of disgust from you before returning a smile at jinx.

"this was a lovely dinner, ms. jinx, thank you so much, truly," you thank her honestly. she bows to you slightly before continuing her way through the doors to the kitchen.

you shoot harry a glare. "the harry i knew would've never kept a house elf," you say, your words dripping with disdain. harry ignores your statement, turning to the stairs before ascending them.

he leaves you alone at the dining table, closing himself off in the master bedroom for the night. just as he's finishing up brushing his teeth, he hears your door click shut. that night he fell asleep feeling more reassured than he had in years knowing the pretty girl he couldn't keep his mind off of was asleep just down the hall from him.

it had been a few weeks since harry moved you in, and he rarely ended up seeing you in the mansion. you were often locked away in your room, or taking showers, and harry only ever saw you when you were finishing up a meal with jinx.

you had become quite close with her, it seems, which harry found sweet. he was worried at first that you may be using jinx as a way to find an escape from the house, but after a while without incident, harry realized how silly the idea was. you truly could connect with anyone.

one of the only other times he saw you, though, was when he passed by the open library one night. harry had been restless, thinking about his past in depth, feeling emotions he couldn't place, and decided to watch the sunrise to clear his head. he took a quick glance through the doors before spotting you curled up on one of the couches, a book in hand, fast asleep beside a warm lamp.

harry stopped, taking a moment to admire you from afar. you had gained some weight back being here, which harry loved to see. your cheeks were full and rounded, your hands not as frail, and the color was coming back to your skin. your hair looked impossibly soft under the light, sprawled everywhere around your angelic, sleeping face. harry couldn't help the cheesy smile that overcame his face. he was just happy that you were okay.

outside of that, harry spent most of his time alone, thinking about you. you hadn't reached out to him yet, which he expected, but was surprised when a month came and went and you still didn't confront him. he hadn't made his decision just yet, so he didn't have an answer for you even if you had asked him. he saw you were doing better, but still wasn't confident in letting you go. not just for selfish reasons, of course, but he wanted to be sure you were equipped enough to live on your own.

but, harry had to admit, his heart raced when he heard your soft footsteps pass his door to the stairs. his mind went blank seeing your figure standing in the dining room with jinx, chatting over a plate of snacks together. his blood ran cold when he heard your soft giggle from somewhere in the mansion. like a beautiful ghost haunting his past.

harry knew even before he sent his letter to voldemort that his feelings for you had never truly gone away. deep under his rage, his unforgiving heart, his cold blooded nature, his love for you had always remained. but he was learning to accept your departure if you chose to do so. a final goodbye to the most beautiful part of his unsightly life. harry wasn't sure he could handle the idea.

he was struggling with his thoughts, the constant back and forth he was feeling about you. at first harry was sleeping better with you there knowing you were safe, but now he stayed up late worrying himself sick over the decisions he had to make now that you were actually there.

sitting in bed, staring at the rising sun through his window, harry's mind was exhausting him. he hadn't slept all night and could feel the effects setting in. slowly, he stood from the bed and slipped on his house shoes along with his robe. he quietly leaves his room to not disturb you so early just down the hall.

he walks to the opposite end of the hall towards the balcony, and takes his usual seat facing the sunrise.

harry contemplates here most mornings, but never comes to any radical conclusions. he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what's best for you anymore. he knows he selfishly wants you all to himself still, but also knows you deserve to live the life you want no matter what his opinion is. it's the same conversation with himself every time, and it leaves him confused and upset for keeping you here like he is. even if his heart is in the right place.

his thoughts are interrupted by jinx, who offers harry a cup of tea. he thanks her, but quickly calls her back to ask a question. "jinx, um…[y/n], how is she doing?" he asks.

jinx, a quiet house elf, gives harry a smile, and pats his shoulder. her smile is warm and reassuring, as well as her hand. as she walks off, harry smiles to himself a bit. he's not completely satisfied with the answer, but he takes what he can get.

finishing his cup of tea with the sun shining over the horizon, harry turns to head inside before being met with the sight of you standing at the open doorway of the balcony. 

you're dressed in a simple long sleeve pajama shirt along with comfortable pants, your arms crossed as the morning chill sets into the air. harry's a bit startled at first, but gives you a polite smile, diverting his eyes and walking around you to leave you be.

"harry," you said softly, turning to him.

harry's heart dropped, but turned to you promptly with eager eyes. the way you said his name, your soft voice, he was already so captivated by you.

"can we talk?"

now harry was worried. this is what he's been afraid of since you got here. he's not ready to answer you. he doesn't know what he's going to say when you desperately ask him to leave and never come back.

"of course," he says calmly, gesturing to the balcony so you could sit together.

once you've joined him in watching the sun, you two fall into a somewhat comfortable silence as the soft wind whistles past.

"i never thanked you," you said quietly after a while, almost a whisper in the wind. harry looked at you, looking at the sunrise. your face was radiant. you were brilliant in the light of the sun, your hair still impossibly soft and beautiful, falling around you, following the flow of the air. harry was overwhelmed with the beauty your presence held in this moment. "you never had to."

you glanced at harry, studying his expression, before turning back to the sun. "it's also been a month." you state coldly. harry's gaze drops, sighing. "57 days, technically," he mumbles.

a few moments of silence pass again, leaving harry an anxious mess in his seat. he tried to think of a gentle way to let you know he still needed time to decide what to do. a way to tell you without putting his life at risk to your anger.

"well, as much as i hate to say this, you were right," you say, still watching the sunrise in deep thought. harry was shocked by your words, immediately sitting up in his seat to get a better look at your face.

you were stoic, your eyes fixated on the scene out beyond your reach. "what?" harry asked, not believing his own ears. a small smile crept to your lips, the first one he's managed to see himself since you've been here. his heart aches at just the hint of seeing it again.

"don't make me say it again, potter," you try to say threateningly with that small smile, your eyes falling to your lap.

harry is stunned into silence, watching you with careful eyes. "but, you were right. i needed time to be healthy again." you said to him, your back still turned. harry stayed quiet, allowing you to continue. "i was angry with you. i still am. i don't think it'll ever stop," you inform him, the coldness returning to your voice. "but," he was preparing himself for the rejection, the questions, the begging.

"i'd like to stay, if you'll have me," you offer in a slightly embarrassed tone, your face turned the other way.

to say harry was shocked at your request is an understatement. he was expecting you to have a plan to take him out if he had rejected your request to leave yet. he never considered the idea that you might actually want to stay with him.

"i'll have you forever, if you let me," harry responds, a small smile on his face as well. you shoot him a warning look. "not forever. just until i feel well again." you tell him, your voice cold once more. you turn back to the sun, now completely over the horizon. "figured you owe me that much," you say in an accusatory voice.

harry just smirks to himself. you could never be soft for long when he was around. but he appreciated that you felt you could ask him to stay, though you never had to in the first place. harry really would have had you forever, if you'd let him.

"stay as long as you need to." he says.

you glance back at him again, your eyes softer this time. you're analyzing him for a moment before turning to him a bit. "it took me a long time to understand why you sent me to azkaban," you tell him, your voice steady and emotionless. harry just watches you, admiring the light surrounding you.

"you would've never stood a chance in destroying the world had i been free," you state, your eyes still examining him. harry offers you another small smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes the same way. "you knew you were weak," you say.

harry's now analyzing your expression, your words swimming around in his mind. "i did," he admitted to you. "it was just easier if i knew where you were all this time," he says breathlessly.

your eyes narrow at him once more, the anger returning to your body language. "easier for you. i would've never done the same if the roles were reversed." you snapped at him harshly. harry believed you. he thought about it a lot in his nightly battles with his own mind.

"you're right," harry stated, still admiring you in your anger. you were upset, but gave harry a questioning look. your eyes softened only a bit. "i think about it all the time," he admits to you gently.

you're a bit puzzled by his admittance of guilt, but don't let it stop you. "i hope it haunts you at night the way it haunts me," you say sharply, your eyes dark.

"always has," harry says to himself, only making you more angry. "you poor thing. must've been so tough relaxing in this mansion knowing i was rotting away in solitary confinement." your voice is strong, powerful, a contrast to the broken words you gave harry your first day here.

"it was," harry says simply, sensing your rising impatience with him. you stood from your seat, towering over him as he continued watching you in wonder. "you evil little rat. you're just lucky my magic is restricted by this spell. i would've killed you in your sleep that first night." you threaten him, gesturing to the protection spell around the castle and balcony.

harry wants to stop himself, but can't keep the smirk off his face. this only angers you more, pulling your arm back and slapping harry square across his face.

he doesn't react, instead allowing himself to stay facing away from you. "i hate you," you state weakly, your hands balled at your side. harry looks at you, the smirk still playing on his lips. "i know," he says softly.

you frustratedly sit back down, turning to look back at the sunrise once more.

a long silence settles over you two, listening to the sounds of the city as it awakens around you. eventually, you stand, turning to leave harry alone on the balcony. you pause before you leave.

"i still never thanked you, harry." you speak softly, your back turned to him. he looks over at you, your curves glowing in the morning light. "you never had to," he replies, and you're off down the dark hallway.

for the next few months, you and harry live together amicably. he sees you around more often as you start to leave the confines of your room. of course the library was a place of solace for you, but he started to see you more in the living room, on the balcony, or in the dining room enjoying jinx's company. for a while you two exchanged polite greetings, simple glances and acknowledgements, before asking about each other's days, or commenting on the weather. it was agonizingly slow for harry, but he was breaking through your walls one way or another.

one day not long after you'd slapped him on the balcony, you sat in the living room with harry, across from his seat on the couch. he was surprised by your presence, but gave you a small smile over his book anyway. "jinx tells me you've been acting different," you'd stated bluntly, watching his face for a reaction.

harry put down the book he was reading, giving you his attention. "have i?" he asks. you were always examining him, your eyes critical but curious at the same time. "she says your anger used to be terrible. even worse than i remember." you lead him on.

harry bit his lip thinking about the years where his rage was at its worst. he tried not to dwell on them, and instead tried to focus on the newfound emotions consuming his life. but he couldn't deny the path of destruction he'd left while seeing red.

harry eventually nodded, his eyes distant. "it was," he admits, his voice just as lost in thought. you shifted in your seat. "you let it ruin everything, harry." you said softly, leaving him looking at the floor in disappointment. "i know," he admitted.

the silence between you was palpable. harry felt the weight of it on his shoulders before you spoke again. "i would hear about the things you did while in azkaban. the guard would tell me even after i asked him to stop." you inform him. harry can still feel your eyes shooting daggers at him.

"for so long i fantasized about being the one to kill you, to finally put an end to voldemort." you said wistfully. harry glanced at you, seeing a longing look on your face. "how brave of [y/n] to put her love aside to kill the dark lord's apprentice." you said in a mocking tone, leaning back in your seat.

harry watched you, imagining you in azkaban, dreaming of putting an end to his life, while he dreamed of freeing you. it was a fair trade, he thought, and not one he would argue against at this point. and it didn't go unnoticed that you mentioned your love for him, either.

"you still can," harry says, causing you to snap your eyes back at him. "excuse me?" you ask with a sneer. harry puts his book to the side and sits up, his feet planted on the ground. "kill me, that is. it's not impossible." he tells you with intrigue.

you're staring at him incredulously, your eyes always searching him. "you're…you're kidding, right? i mean, you took my magic while yours seems to be highly skilled. you really think i'd stand a chance?" you ask with a sarcastic laugh.

harry stands from his seat, taking achingly slow steps around the coffee table towards you. "yes, while your magic is weak, you are not, [y/n]. i've gone out of my way to keep the knives, fire pokers, swords, and hundreds of books on potions and charms out for your use, at any time, have i not?" harry questions you, getting closer now. though you would normally pull back from him, you stay seated, trying to process his words.

standing just before you, harry admires the curves of your face against the light of the fire. "with your nimble step and cunning wit," harry lifts his hand to gently put his fingers to your chin. the first physical contact he's had with you. unless you count the time you held that knife to his throat. "you could gut me like a pig before i even have the chance to squeal," harry's voice is soft but dark, your breathing caught in your throat at the contact.

as he backed away, harry could see the physical effect he had on you. your nervous blinking, your jaw tightening, hands trembling; he found it sweet he could still do that to you, even if you claimed to hate him.

after that day, harry felt less tension between you two. maybe being vulnerable around you made you realize he was never a threat to begin with. he didn't want anything from you, and he didn't care if you never wanted anything from him. as long as you were safe, that was all he cared about. he hoped you were starting to understand that.

though conversations between you were still tense and cryptic, there was a sense of unspoken comradery that felt nostalgic to you both. your serious, brooding angst matched with harry's calm, collected coldness made for an interesting match. it was never the same as before, you were both fairly aware it wasn't ever going to be, but there was an undoubted chemistry that still lingered from your teenage years together.

however, something else that always lingered during your interactions is your distaste for harry's actions. at any chance you can, you poke and prod at his past, partly to understand, he assumes, but also to test his limits. you were always cautious and suspicious of his submissive behavior when it came to this kind of confrontation; how could someone who was, at least at one point, so evil, so cruel and heartless, become so nonchalant about their past? who wipes out entire cities just to 'not dwell on it'?

this was always a point of contention between you, even if everything else until that point had been somewhat playful. it never so much upset harry as it riled you up, bringing strong emotions to the forefront, causing you to lash out at him. though he always stayed calm, he also always seemed to listen. he never disagreed with your feelings or sentiments, if anything he agreed with your hatred for himself. it's like that day in the living room when he tempted you with his death, and yet you never took the bait.

harry rather enjoyed watching you work yourself up, and admired how quick you were to defend yourself. he never wanted to upset you, of course, but sometimes he couldn't help his cheeky responses knowing it would get a look out of you that made his heart jump. it might not be the most gentlemanly thing he does, but something about your anger excited him. it was nothing like his vengeful rage from the past, but it had its own potency that ran a chill down his spine. harry was so used to everyone cowering away from him in fear of his power that he relished your open aggression towards him. it was thrilling, and it was exactly what he needed.

harry tried to remain respectful of his guest, but having such a beautiful mind and body occupy his space with him was hard to ignore sometimes. his eyes would wander, as well as his thoughts, and he had caught himself fantasizing about you a few too many times to admit. you were stunning, of course, you always had been, but there was something about you now that elevated your beauty in harry's eyes. maybe it was the dark, unforgiving coldness of your eyes, or the strong scowl that your expression rested in, or the underlying anger that was ready to bubble over at any point, but harry was completely infatuated with who you had become.

he knew how hypocritical it was for him to admire the parts of you that were forced out in your desperation to survive the decision he made for you all those years ago. though you seldom mentioned your years in azkaban, harry could see and feel the effects it continued to have on you. they weighed on him heavily, and though harry wasn't one to regret what's happened in the past, he wished he could've figured out another way to protect you at the time. a way that didn't dim the light inside of you the way that it has been.

but still, that light was there. when you smiled to yourself at your own quips, when you admired the food jinx prepares you, when you lost yourself in your books, harry could physically feel the light radiating within you. it was familiar, like an old hug from a friend, and was unmistakably beautiful.

sometimes he felt like a teenager again, discovering the parts of you that made him fall in love in the first place. your natural charm, your captivating eyes, the innate draw he felt to you simply by being in your presence. it was unlike anything he's felt for another person, before or since meeting you. but rather than two teenagers flirting over study dates, you were now two closed off adults with a complicated history and 'break up', if you could even call it that. it was nothing like the past, yet it was entirely too similar.

you and harry had been sitting in silence together in the living room, reading your respective books, enjoying each other's company. it was one of harry's favorite things to do with you now, and one of the only ways you two could be together without it ending in tension. neither of you talked, neither of you made noise outside of the occasional chuckle or gasp at your readings; it was a peaceful excuse for harry to be near you, and sometimes admire you from over the pages.

this night, however, you broke the traditional silence by asking harry a question you'd been keeping to yourself. "harry," you started. he loved the sound of his name in your voice, it was invigorating to listen to.

harry turned his head to you, his book still in his lap, noticing you've long since placed yours on the table beside you. "[y/n]," he responded with his typical smirk, returning his eyes to his book.

you cleared your throat a bit, your ankles crossing in front of you. "how often did you think of me," it was more of a statement than a question, your tone not as cold and questioning as it typically was.

harry knew what you meant, of course, and waited a moment before answering you. "i'd never stopped," he said simply. it was true, and it still is.

you turned to look at the fireplace, your knees bouncing out of the corner of harry's eye as he pretends to continue reading. "but you never came back for me," you stated. harry's eyebrows furrowed, glancing at you again before looking away to leave you with your words. "you left me there to die," you said, that familiar coldness returning to your tone.

harry let out a sharp breath. "that was never my intention, and you know that." he says without a reaction. you become visibly irritated, your jaw clenching with your fists. "you never thought about me," you insisted, your words heavy with contempt.

harry shut his book and threw it beside him, leaning towards you. you turned to glare at him, your nostrils flared. "i was lucky to sleep one full night in the last 5 years without a singular dream of you." he tells you, his voice as steady as his eye contact. "you haunt me like a ghost, [y/n]. you always will."

you're looking at him questionably as you stand from your seat across from him, now making your way towards him. "good. i hope you never forget about what you did to me. i won't." you hiss at him, your cheeks turning red. harry's mind races with you towering over him, leaning back in his seat to fully enjoy the view.

"how could i forget about you?" he quips, that same damn smirk making you grit your teeth. you take another, heavier step towards him, your fists trembling at your sides. "stop fucking doing that," you spit threateningly.

harry cocks his head to the side, looking you up and down. he likes seeing you like this, even if it scares him a bit. "what?" he asks, pushing you even further.

you step between his legs and lean into his face, only leaving a few inches between you. "that, you fucking creep. is this funny to you?" your voice is raised now, the anger finally starting to boil over again. "not at all," harry says, still smirking at your reaction.

"then wipe the smirk off your face and stop doing this to me, harry." you instruct him, leaning back to cross your arms in front of you. harry's biting his lip, not able to resist the lustful thoughts he's having of you in this situation. "doing what, exactly?" he asks, curious what you mean.

"this, all of this, harry. you look at me like a starving animal. you watch me around the house like a stalker. you say you think of me all the time and yet you've only so much as touched my chin." you rattle off, clearly frustrated with these thoughts you've kept inside. "you bring me back here and have me live like a princess when there's people outside who live like animals because of you and what you've done," you continue to raise your voice at him, now getting yourself completely worked up.

harry just watches you, like always, not disagreeing with any of your sentiments. as he normally doesn't, he knows you're a smart girl.

"and you're still fucking looking at me like that," you growl, your arm coming across his neck once more, like the first night you were here, holding him against the cushions of the couch.

harry doesn't stop you, as he never does, and instead enjoys the feeling of you kneeling between his legs in an attempt to further choke him. "i swear on my own life i'll still kill you, potter. what the fuck do you want from me?" you interrogate him, your dark eyes searching him for answers.

the smirk on harry's face only grows, causing you to push further into his throat. it's ironic how much he wants from you right now that would only further put his life at risk in your hands.

"i…never wanted…anything…" harry chokes out. he knows he's stronger than you and could easily escape your grasp, but he enjoys the feeling of letting you have control over the moment, and over him.

"that's a fucking lie," you say through gritted teeth, getting nose to nose with harry. "tell me what you want." you insist.

harry's heart is racing, his mind going blank from the lack of oxygen, and an inconvenient erection growing through his trousers. he could tell you so many things he wants, how many nights he's spent imagining you on top of him like this once again. he knows it would only anger you more, and he was almost tempted by that thought alone.

after a few moments of harry struggling to keep his eyes focused on you, you could feel something against your thigh that caught your attention. glancing down, your weight on harry's throat lessened enough for him to breathe slightly. you looked back up at his eyes with a look of confusion and shock before quickly returning to anger.

"seriously? are you fucking turned on right now as i'm threatening your life?" you ask him with disgust, slightly pulling away. harry's cheeks flush as he tries to catch his breath, your arm still resting across this collarbone. he stays quiet, his eyes glancing between you and his lap.

you scoff at him. "you're so pathetic, potter. how you were ever a leader of anything is a mystery to me." you ridicule him, an amused smirk coming across your own face.

your condescending attitude only fuels harry's excitement more, trying not to let his expression expose how much he's enjoying this.

"it's almost like you want me to kill you," your voice is quiet but dangerously cold, giving harry goosebumps as your breath falls across his blushing face. he tries to stop it but his body can't resist a low whine being forced from his throat.

your eyes fall to his lips for just a moment before you lean into them, surprising harry with a hungry kiss as you relax your weight onto his body. more moans escape harry's mouth as you roughly force your tongue past his lips. his hand naturally finds your waist, but you slap it away harshly with your free hand. "no touching." you warn him, your lips brushing against his.

"yes ma'am," harry responds.

you give him a look, your other leg kneeling beside his as you straddle his thigh, your skirt falling perfectly over his knee. "i still hate you," you growl, choking him against the couch once more. "i know," harry says breathlessly, staring at you like a helpless puppy.

forcing him into a suffocating kiss, you eventually let harry breathe as your lips find his neck, your teeth sinking into his skin and hands grasping his shoulders tightly. he groans at the pain, earning a slight roll of your hips on his leg. harry wants nothing more than to touch you right now, guiding your hips into his body, pleasuring you like he's wanted to for so long. but for now, he's just glad you're kissing him, and enjoys the feeling of your breath against his bruised skin.

"shirt off." you command, sitting back to observe the puddle harry's become in your grasp. he wastes no time taking off his sweater, throwing it behind him as your eyes trace over his scarred torso. your cold gaze softens at the sight, your fingers tracing the healed wounds carefully.

for a moment, when you glance at harry through your eyelashes, he feels that same love you shared as kids. the soft, innocent admiration that came with inexperience. for just one moment, nothing was complicated, and there was no history. you were discovering harry all over again, like he had been with you.

the moment didn't last for long as your gaze hardened once more looking at him. you stood from your straddling position, much to his disappointment. he was ready for you to end the moment and leave, but you didn't.

"on your knees." you instructed him. again, harry wasted no time as he sunk to his knees in front of the couch, eye level with the hem of your skirt. he looked up at you eagerly, hardly believing the privilege he had to see you above him like this.

harry's heart was racing as you lifted your skirt to expose your panties to him. his eyes never left yours, his breathing hitching at the beauty just in front of his face. his hands were patiently folded in his lap, aching to grab every part of you.

you slowly lifted one thigh onto harry's shoulder, reaching down to take the glasses off his face for him, setting them to the side. "now," you told him, your voice seductive as you lean your weight into him once more. harry holds his shoulders steady, his mouth close enough to your soaked pantines to nearly taste you already.

"let me ride your face," you coo, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as he continues staring at you with hungry eyes. "it's the least you can do for me," you smirk, your voice still chillingly cold and cryptic.

harry lets out a sigh of relief and desperation, eyes glancing at your panties before returning to your gaze. you slowly push his open mouth onto you, not able to hold back a sound of relief yourself.

harry's eyes flutter shut as your hips roll onto his face, losing himself in your smell and taste. your fingers tangle into his hair to keep him in place, soft, breathy gasps falling from your lips as you watch from above.

after a minute you become too desperate and pull your panties aside, instructing harry to hold them as you force his mouth onto your dripping pussy. harry listens like a good boy and holds the fabric, his hand also taking the chance to grip your inner thigh. a deep moan escapes your throat at the feeling.

harry's tongue quickly works its way across your arousal, enjoying every part of you as he pushes himself further into your pussy. your hands try to pull his hair back to relieve some of the overwhelming feeling, but harry doesn't let you control him for once. he's desperate to please you, his hunger growing the more of you he's allowed to have.

harry's other hand grabs for your skirt to hold it above his head, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. your face is twisted in pleasure, lips bitten, eyes glazed over as you watch harry disappear between your legs.

harry moans at the sight of you, sending shivers across your skin. you moan, biting your lips closed, your hips stuttering against his mouth. "fuck," you mumble, earning another moan from harry as his tongue circles your sensitive clit.

a hand rushed to your mouth as you attempt to hide your filthy noises, the feeling making your eyes roll back. you're trying to mask your pleasure, but harry can see right through you.

you finally successfully pull his mouth off of you, lips swollen and wet as his head rests in your grip. "good," you say breathlessly. your voice falters a bit. you take your thigh off harry's shoulder, again, much to his disappointment.

"sit," you tell him, gesturing to the couch once more. harry complies, returning to his spot on the couch behind him. you reach forward and unbutton his pants, pulling them down a bit with his assistance. you can see his erection through his briefs, causing you to smirk a bit before returning to your neutral expression.

"no touching," you remind harry as you position yourself to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. harry's sure you can hear his heartbeat racing under your control.

you start grinding your soaking wet panties against harry's clothed cock, your mouth falling open with his at the sensation. the light of the fire behind you leaves harry with the beautiful sight of you glowing in his lap, your warm skin pressed against his as your breathy moans fall into his neck.

harry can hardly take the teasing any longer, his moans becoming needier the harder he gets under you. "fuck, [y/n]," his voice is deep with desire, his head rolling back once your roll your hips into him harshly. you moan at the sound of your own name, your hands returning to his shoulders as your nails dig deep into his skin.

"that's right, say my name," you smirk, grinding into harry at a faster pace. "so pathetic," you remind him.

harry continuously lets your name fall from his lips as you watch him, a helpless, desperate mess beneath you. he loves the feeling of letting you use him any way you want to.

soon you can't wait much longer, and you pull out harry's cock from his briefs. the feeling of your hand grasping his shift makes harry's hips buck up involuntarily, silently asking for more.

you can't help but chuckle at just how eager he is. you're more than enjoying the control and effect you have over him.

"now," you say again, causing harry to look back at you with needy eyes. "you're gonna let me use you until i cum," you tell him, teasing yourself with the feeling of him against your wet pussy. harry's eyes nearly roll back again as he nods for you, his lips parted with uneven breaths.

you slide harry inside of you, adjusting to the feeling as harry's head falls back once again in pleasure. "so fucking wet," harry sighs softly, nearly whining. once your hips lower completely onto his length, you start to ride harry slowly, still adjusting to him. he's a full blown whining mess beneath you, his chest flushed and heaving as your pussy tightens around him.

you take in the sight of him, your eyes exploring every sweaty part of his body as you continue riding at a slow pace. you unwrap your arms from his shoulders, leaning back into your hips. "take my shirt off," you tell harry.

his eyes open again, looking at you eagerly. his hands nervously begin lifting your shirt, holding the fabric carefully between his fingers, and savors the sight and feeling of pulling it off of you, his eyes glancing at your chest before locking with yours again.

"so beautiful," he tells you, your skin looking deliciously soft in the warm lowlight. "i know, now be quiet," you shut him up, picking up the pace of your hips.

harry's eyes narrow at you, the intoxicating feeling of you wrapped around his cock only making him hungrier for your pleasure. the sight of you bouncing in his lap, your breasts just in front of his face as you lean your hands next to his head on the back of the couch.

"open," you tell harry.

he doesn't have to be told twice before his lips part, his tongue eagerly waiting for you. you guide your nipple into his mouth, your hips rolling onto harry's cock in circles. his teeth and tongue tease the sensitive skin, your pussy gripping harry even more and earning a low growl from his chest. his hands remained at his sides, but he wanted nothing more than to feel you everywhere on top of him.

you start riding harry once more, his teeth still gripping your nipple making you whine at the feeling. "fuck," you let the word slip out, your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip. harry's more than aroused at your reaction to him, his cock aching inside of you to release.

you pull harry's head back by his hair, forcing him to look up at you. you reach for his glasses that you sat down earlier, returning them to his face delicately. harry appreciates the gesture and can better see the pleasure in your eyes, a soft smile falling across his lips.

"so pretty," he whispers. he can see the blush you try to hide, looking away from his eyes and down at your hips.

you start groaning in frustration, your grip on his hair tightening, causing harry to wince. "you're gonna make me cum," you tell him through broken moans, your thrusts becoming uneven. harry can feel you tightening around him again. he groans at the feeling, your name slipping from his mouth again and again. this only makes you fall apart more, high pitched whimpers coming from you as you chase your high.

you soon sink into harry's neck, your cries of pain and pleasure falling across his skin as your legs start to shake. you can't even form words as your body feels the waves of intense pleasure from each thrust onto harry's cock. your hands move to his shoulders again, holding onto him for stability as you continue to ride out your climax.

harry grows impatient at the feeling of your orgasm and watching you break down into him. he finally grabs for you, moving your hips to the couch beside him, staying inside you while you gasp at his movement. he kicks off his pants and adjusts himself between your legs.

"harry," you try to protest, your voice weak and shaky. "just let me do this, darling," he growls, his hips becoming flush against yours as he pushes his cock completely inside of you. you let out a gasp, your hand slapping over your lips once more.

harry hungrily digs his cock deeper inside of you with each slow thrust, his hands holding himself up above you as he watches his cock easily slide in and out of your soaking wet pussy. he folds your legs back as he sinks even deeper into you.

"holy fuck," he groans, his breathing heavy, hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep himself steady. "so beautiful, [y/n]," harry tells you again, his droopy eyes focused on your face twisted in pleasure.

you look at him, your eyes full of lust, but still cold as ice. "i…hate you," you remind him through strained breaths, struggling to take his entire length, still glaring at him.

this pushes harry over the edge, his hips quickening until he feels himself start to unravel. he pulls out of your warm pussy and cums on your stomach, groaning at the sight of you below him.

you gasp at the feeling, looking at harry with shock. "did you just cum from me saying i hate you?" you ask, your tone mocking his desperation. harry nods, still stroking his cock slowly, his other hand remaining on your thigh as his moans quiet down.

"you're disgusting," you tell him coldly, but harry can see the smirk on your face and the lust in your eyes. he watches you below him, smirking in return.

"and you love it."

[reidmania]

hello!! ok so, i was wondering if i could request a fic that is based around autumn/ october/ halloween because spencer loves spooky season and i fuck with that, anyway, so could you tie that detail into smth kinda like your “everywhere everything” fic fluff wise because i went feral for that one lmao. feel free to ignore if youre not up to it, but i’d love to read what youve got if you do write this. 💙

EVERYWHERE EVERYTHING | spencer reid

part one, part two

summary; spending the week before halloween & going to the pumpkin patch with Spencer in your home town.

warnings; pure love sick fluff, talks about home towns, established relationships, fem reader, halloween, mentions of driving, rushed ending sorry!!

an; i decided to make this request a part two to the everywhere everything fic bc the next verse just fits so well i think?? but it can be read without reading the first part. and that whole song feels like love in autumn!!

im also australian and we dont celebrate halloween like americans do, ive never been to a pumpkin patch so please bare w me during this.

'Drive slowly, I know every route in this county, maybe that ain't such a bad thing I'll tell you where not to speed. It's been a long year and all of our book's pages dog-eared We write out the ends on our palms, dear. Then forget to read, we didn't know that the sun was collapsing 'Til the seas rose and the buildings came crashing. We cried, "Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh" Everywhere, everything, I wanna love you 'til we're food for the worms to eat 'Til our fingers decompose Keep my hand in yours'

"Slow down" You huffed out as Spencer turned down a road you knew all to well, it was familiar and came with a sense of home in place. It was the same road you remembered your father being pulled over everytime for speeding, the same road you had been pulled over on when you had first gotten your licence.

Spencer did as you told him, after sitting in the car with you for an hour mumbling about where was and wasn't safe to go a little faster than the speed limit, he knew to listen. This was your home, you knew it better than he would.

He even refrained from correcting some of your 'fun facts' abot your home town. Purely because listening to your excitement while talking about it made his heart too happy to say anything.

"You know we have gone past about three different pumpkin patches on the way" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrow softly as his head turned from the road to look at you for a moment before turning back to the road.

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile taking place over your lips. “Yes, but, this one’s the best. We are literally two minutes away. Please don’t complain.” You muttered with a smile.

The air between the two of you was warm. It lingered with peace and quiet love, the sort that didn’t need to be shouted from a roof top because it was whispered through the way Spencer’s hands reached to grab yours, the way his eyes danced between you and the road, the way the music playing was what you enjoyed rather than the normal radio he would let play in the background.

It didn’t need to be shouted because it was whispered through the way Spencer’s face lit up when he parked the car and looked out the window, the way he turned back to you with just about the widest grin you think ever possible, the way he leant in to place a gentle kiss against your forehead before he got out, walking around the car to open the door for you.

“Pretty right?” You grinned up at him as his eyes took over the scene, the leaves that covered the ground around your feet all the prettiest shades of orange and yellow, the scent of cinnamon filling the air around you, as patches and patches of pumpkins laid in front of you, all surrounded by a brown picket fence.

He just placed another kiss on your the top of your head, clasping his hand with yours, fingers interlinked between one another. The smile on his face and look in his eyes said more about his excitement than words possibly good — so you didn’t mind the lack of response as you began walking towards the patches.

“I wanna find the biggest one.” You mumbled out, looking around the large patches. There was families, friends, other couples surrounding you but your focus was on nothing but Spencer, and finding the biggest possible pumpkin.

Spencer snorted as he looked up at from patches, to look at you. He took in how you looked curled into one of his knitted sweaters, arms wrapped around your torso in order to shield you from the autumn breeze.

“I think that kid just took the biggest one”

You furrowed your eyebrows and spun your body to look behind you to where a kid was walking — To be fair the pumpkin his dad was holding was pretty big, but the smile on the kids face when he jumped around holding hands with his mum made you not mind so much.

“Well.. I’ll get the second biggest” You settled. Spencer smiled as he shook his head, tugging you slightly closer by your hand to pull you into his chest. His hand left yours as his arms came to rest around your waist.

You laughed, as your hands came up to his upper back and the back of his head gently. The two of you swayed side to side for a moment. “Happy?” You asked, silly question. You could feel it radiating off of him.

He pulled his head away to press his forehead against yours, his nose knocking yours lightly as he scrunched up his face for a moment, before pulling back to look down at your face. His lip quipped up into a soft smile. “Very.”

You lean back, his hands moving to hold onto your hips as his thumb slipped up under your sweater, his sweater. His thumb ran small circles over the skin in place. Your smile widened, heart exploding as your skin burnt under the cold of his fingertips.

“Come on, I want to find the perfect pumpkin. We should have a pumpkin carving competition this year, that would be so much fun” You rambled as you pulled away from his touch to walk around the lines and lines of pumpkins.

He laughed, “We should.” He agreed softly, because why would he ever deny you what you wanted, especially something to do with halloween.

He watched as you bent down to run your fingertips run gently along one of the pumpkins in the row: It was a decent size and probably would be simply to carve since he knew your mind was now hyper-fixated on the idea of pumpkin carving instead of finding the biggest possible pumpkin.

“Actually- Did you know each year 150 million dollars is made from pumpkins, and 98 percent of that is from people who purchase them to make jack-o’-lanterns, and 46% of amercia—”

“How many is that?” You cut off as you look up at him from where you were leant down to look at the pumpkins. He smiled.

“A hundred and fifty four million” He answered without even having to think about it. It never failed to stun you. You hummed allowing him to continue on telling you his facts.

“So 46 percent — Or A hundred and fifty four million people, in America make jack-o-lanterns every year. During Halloween the most reason for injury is actually because of pumpkin carving.” He stated.

You stood up, a soft smile on your face as you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Well maybe people should be more careful. I’ve never gotten an injury while carving a pumpkin” You hummed out.

He snorted, taking your hand gently. “Have you ever carved a pumpkin?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

You gasped, “Yes- Actually!! I have.” You said, your voice an octave higher than normally. He smiled, nodding his head in disbelief which only caused you to shake your own.

The rest of the day consisted of you and Spencer walking around the pumpkin patch, making jokes and laughing with one another, you even tried a pumpkin, cinnamon cookie from a stand nearby.. Safe to say you weren’t too fond of it.

But you were fond of the way Spencer’s eyes shone in a different sort of way when the two of you finally picked out a pumpkin each, the way his mood seemed unwavering during the fall season.

You loved him, and you loved halloween.

[fatuismooches]

fabulam diu oblitus - second interlude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the third part of this fic, please read the first two for maximum enjoyment. The tale of your and Dottore's life seems to be coming to an end. Contains non-sexual nudity (you two cuddle nearly nude) and reader has some insecurities about themselves/their body. Of course, mandatory mention to my moot @kaixserzz and all my lovely anons (you too 🎐 anon <3.)

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“The butterfly’s life seemed to be going well. They had their dear raven who loved them along with his multiple copies. Friends who spent time with them. But in reality, life was much harder and dimmer for them than they outwardly showed sometimes. In fact, the butterfly found themselves plagued by dreams. They weren’t nightmares, but when they woke up, it certainly felt like one. Or when they did have genuine nightmares, they felt the same unease and wept about their unfortunate situation.”

You woke up under the sun, its heat kissing your skin, leaving you warm and fuzzy. Blearily, you rubbed your eyes and looked around, trying to gauge your location. Judging from the bright sun and soft grass surrounding you, one-of-a-kind fauna that could only be found in certain places, you must be in a forest in Sumeru. You yawned, rubbing your eyes, sitting up. It was then you noticed that Zandik was sleeping peacefully next to you as well. Hehe, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Zandik, slacking off? Especially when he always got mad at you for that? Oh, you were so going to tease him later. You reached out to caress his cheek but-

In the blink of an eye, he was gone, and you were confused. Where did he go…? But that was the least of your worries, as another blink had changed the landscape to one of pitch darkness. Immediately, you got up despite not being able to see anything. And then a voice sounded from somewhere.

“[Name].” After someone said your voice, a bright spotlight was cast on you, the only light in the vast darkness that surrounded you. And that voice… it wasn’t Dottore, but it sounded oddly familiar…

“[Name], oh [Name]. The poor pitiful person who cannot do anything useful for themselves or for others,” the voice continued to echo from above, though you could not see who was speaking. But then, as you took in their words, you realized that it was your voice. Your voice was the one sounding from above. How… what? You wanted to question it but you were more focused on the content of their words.

“What are you talking about? Who- who even are you?” The voice chuckled, a carbon copy of how you would laugh.

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You, who cannot ever hope to be anything more than you are now, forever stuck in that useless body and mentality of yours. You, who-”

“Hey! Ugh, you’re me, are you not? Why are you being so mean?” You replied, frustrated. Was it strange to be having a conversation with yourself as well?

“Indeed, I am you. But I am the truthful part of you. I am the voice that you bury in the back of your mind, the one you try so hard to ignore. But you know that I am right.” You gritted your teeth at your other voice’s words. No, that couldn’t be true. You were far, far better than what this imposter was saying! But before you could refute those statements, they spoke again.

“Just take a look at yourself from before.” And then, another spotlight opened up in front of you. There, basking under the light, was your former self from the Akademiya. Carefree, happy, and healthy, balancing a pencil on your finger as you cheerfully discussed some academics with Zandik. More spotlights flicked on to demonstrate your skilled movements, swiftly handling your weapon in battle. Ah, showing you all the things you couldn’t do anymore. How lovely. And then those lights switched off, and one turned on behind you, making you spin around.

In the spotlight stood a tall mirror, reflecting your current self right back at you. Not just outwardly, but mostly inwardly. Your throat went dry. You were so, so different. Did your illness really change you that much? The bright and lively face from before was a stark comparison to this tired one. The mirror began to reflect your recent memories as well. The ones where the segments had to do multiple tests on you for your health. Or when you needed to be helped with stuff even children could easily manage. Something began to deeply hurt in your chest.

“When you take a look in the mirror, what do you see? I don’t need to spell it out for you, do I?” The voice from above giggled at you. You just wanted to wake up from this nightmare, already on the verge of tears. Please, just let someone wake you up. It seemed that you couldn’t be happy whether in reality or in dreams.

“Okay, you’re right!” You cried. “You’re right… I’m sorry…” You didn’t even know why or who you were apologizing to.

“Ah, so you admit it, do you? Then you must be ready to accept your fate as well.”

“My… fate?”

“Yes, your fate. Do you really think your dear Dottore will stay with you after burdening him so?” That question made your heart freeze.

“I… yes he will! Of course he will! Zandik loves me… he loves me…” Perhaps you were trying to convince yourself more than stating it as a fact.

“Love? You?” A scoff sounded from behind you, the voice being one that was easily recognizable. Dottore. Turning around, you saw your beloved, but you did not feel the wave of comfort you usually did when in the presence of your lover. The mocking tone was one thing but… it was the way he looked at you. Though his mask was on, you could read his expression. And it was certainly not one of love. The feeling of dread was slowly growing more and more larger.

“Zandik…”

“Do not call me that. I am Il Dottore to you. After all, you are nobody special.” Ah. What did you do to deserve this nightmare…? You could hear the echoes of your own laughter in the background, mocking you. What did you expect? That someone on such a high level like Dottore would stay with you? How laughable, yes, how laughable indeed! But the only thing you could do was beg. Dottore began walking away, the darkness cloaking his figure, and you could not help but run, run, run after him, tripping on your feet as you finally closed the distance between him and you. The only energy you had left was to grip onto his hanging white coat.

You clung to his leg, tears streaming down your face as you continued to plead. “Please don’t. Please! Please, I’ll do whatever you want me to. Anything you want. Just please don’t leave me alone,” you sobbed. Dottore was the only thing you had left in this world. What would you do with yourself if he was gone?

The Harbinger only looked down at you with cold, cold, eyes that made your body feel even more frigid. He then opened his mouth to speak, and you knew if you heard what he said, it would break you.

Which is why it was good when your eyes popped open to that familiar ceiling of yours. Not even a second later, you sat up immediately and would have nearly jumped out of bed if it weren’t for a pair of strong arms holding you in place. But, you didn’t register this right away, and you tried to desperately fight the grip on you but it did not let up.

“[Name],” your brain finally processed the voice that had been calling you. “[Name], calm yourself,” the voice was the very definition of calm, the complete opposite of what you were right now, so the soothing tone managed to get through to you. You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing once more, and attempted to relax your shaking body. The hands on your body remained until you had regained some kind of stability before they slid away. Blearily, you opened your eyes once again and lifted your head, blinking repeatedly to see your lover in front of you once again. Ah, so all of that was just a dream? Oh, you were so, so, thankful it wasn’t reality. 

“Zandik?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and adjusting to the light.

“Yes, it’s me. From my office, I could see your heart rate reaching abnormal levels, which is why I came to check on you.” You stole a glance at the machine hooked up to you, and indeed, your heart rate was higher than normal even though you had calmed down a bit. You could only imagine the level it was during the peak of your nightmare.

“Oh…” It was hard for you to form full sentences right now after that terrifying dream. 

“What happened?” He didn’t bother asking if you were okay because the answer to that was clear. You wondered to yourself if you should tell him. No, you shouldn’t, it was dumb. And it was just a dream… just a dream that surely would never become reality, so you shouldn’t waste his time with it.

“I had a dream,” you began, and Dottore looked at you expectantly. “But I forgot what happened,” you lied, hoping that he would buy it.

“It did not seem like a peaceful one.”

“Mhm… I’m not sure,” you replied briefly again. You’re not sure he believed you, but he did not further question it. But as you looked at him again, you just had to make sure he was real, and not just a figment of your imagination that would torture you again. So you reached your hands out to cup Dottore’s cheeks, feeling the intact skin under your palms. He looked at you questioningly, until you practically pinched and squished his cheeks, and normally he would have scolded you for such behavior, but you looked like you really did have a terrible dream, so he let it slide. But you still needed extra clarification.

“Are you real, Zandik?” You definitely sounded like you lost it now. But Dottore humored you anyway.

“I am real,” he affirmed.

“Prove it,” you demanded. Dottore looked at you expressionlessly, pausing for a few moments, perhaps contemplating what he should do to prove something so silly, but soon he pulled your hands away from his face and then leaned in to kiss you. His pointy teeth grazed your lips, bordering the line between a bit of pain and pleasure. You lost track of how long he kissed you like that, but you didn’t mind. You knew what he was trying to say. There was no way a fake could kiss you like that. His kisses were entirely real.

The nightmare still remained as a hazy mess in your head, but it gradually slipped away from you as you lost yourself in Dottore’s kisses.

… But that wasn’t the beginning or end of your dreams. They had been plaguing you for a while, and that one just happened to be the worst one yet. You don’t remember when they started, but you remember they started nice. The dreams felt like a warm blanket, cozy and soft, as you were back in the Akademiya from centuries ago. And they ended pleasantly too, but when you woke up, it certainly felt like the opposite. It was more like you were being suffocated, being so plainly reminded of your old life, and how different you were now. And then you wept yourself back to sleep, beginning to dread sleeping. Perhaps that’s why the nice dreams began to turn into actual nightmares. You just couldn’t understand why this was happening to you. But more importantly, you wished that Dottore hadn’t found out. 

You had lovely friends, segments who would dote on you, access to pretty much any entertainment since your lover still was a Harbinger after all (despite his budgeting issues with Pantalone), and last but certainly not least, you had the love of your life with you. Your life should feel pretty good, with all of these wonderful things around you.

But it didn’t. And you hated it. So, so much.

So it was only a matter of time before you’d be found out.

—

“And so the butterfly tried their best to hide how they truly felt. To hide the cycle of suffering from their loved ones, not wanting to burden the ravens even more. Although they tried their best, they could not keep up the act any longer.”

It started off as a normal day. You woke up with the same lingering sense of sadness, from the mini nightmare you had, but that was something you were used to. But you could have never expected this to happen.

It was during one of your regular, daily checkups. Some of the clones were there, doing their own thing, while Omega was the one administering the checkup. And you were getting the needle today, so that was nice, you guess. 

Oh, when would it end? When would you finally be free? When would your body be able to be strong again? How much longer will you be cursed to live like this? 

But after that internal monologue, you didn’t think much of it as Omega’s gloved hands carefully held your arm steady as he injected you with something. Nor did you pay much attention to the segments’ bickering, which was uncharacteristic of you. You usually liked to listen in and give your two cents on their arguments. But you hoped you didn’t seem too out of the ordinary.

However, sometimes when you try too hard, you end up doing the one thing you were trying to avoid. 

“[Name]? What is the matter?” Omega asked you, and then you realized all the other segments were staring at you as well.

“Huh? What do you mean?” You sat up a bit taller and smiled, hoping to appear your normal self. But it was then you noticed the growing dampness on your lap. Your heart leaped in your throat, and you brushed your fingers against your face, to be met with wet cheeks.

Oh. You were crying. After trying so hard not to. A part of you wanted to keep the facade up a bit longer, but it hurt too much to keep pretending, and it wouldn’t work anyway. Good thing Omega finished the checkup already. Otherwise, it would have been torture to sit there and cry while he took your vitals.

“[Name]-” Omega was the only one who could speak because the other younger clones were too shocked and unsure to say anything. But when he reached out to you, you swiftly dodged it.

“It’s nothing. It’s nothing, really!” Your voice cracked embarrassingly enough but you couldn’t pay attention to that, busy wiping your tears. Before the segments could do or say anything else, you quickly made a beeline for the door and exited into the endless corridors. If they called your name, you didn’t hear it, as you bit your lip to hide your pitiful sobs.

Hopefully hiding in your bed under the covers would alleviate some of the pain.

—

“When the raven came to check on his darling, the butterfly mourned to their companion: ‘How can you bear to look at me when I’ve been stripped of everything I once was? My wings, eyes, beauty, and soul are no more. How can you love me when I cannot even begin to like myself?’ The flightless butterfly wept as they attempted to hide their body away from the creature, though their wings were already too punctured to move. Still, they were too wrapped up in their hatred and guilt to face him. The creature was at a loss as to how to comfort his lover. How could he show that despite the fact they couldn’t fly anymore, or that their wings had lost their vibrance and become dull, he still loved them? The creature knew he had to do something, and so he decided to take off the fox fur and truly become the raven again, for his beloved’s sake.”

The sensation of being alone in your bed did not last for long, for soon enough there was a knock at your door.

“[Name]?” A muffled voice came beyond the door and you silently groaned. Of course the segments told Prime, and of course he was here now to inquire why you acted like that. And you think you forgot to lock your door too. You hoped that if you remained silent, he would just go away. You were wrong.

“[Name], I’m coming in.” And seconds later you heard the door to your room open and close, and then the footsteps stopped at the side of your bed. Though your face was under the covers, you imagine he was staring down at you.

“I heard what happened,” he began, and then his footsteps echoed throughout the room again as he walked over to the other side of the bed, where you primarily were. The pause after his sentence made you think he expected you to respond, but you didn’t of course. Then, you could feel the bed creak and dip with Dottore’s added weight, and you could feel the brush of his hands against your legs that were covered by the blankets.

“[Name], you can’t keep your head under the blankets forever. You have to come out at some point.” You hated how he was always right because as he spoke you had the desperate need to breathe some fresh air. Ugh. Reluctantly, you lowered the blanket ever so slightly, to only show your tear-stained eyes and your nose. You could feel Dottore’s eyes on you but you avoided looking at him, placing your arm over your eyes.

“[Name].”

“...”

“[Name],” Dottore’s voice had a deeper tone to it now.

“...What?”

“Tell me what is the matter.”

“Nothing is wrong. I-I just felt like crying,” you pathetically defended yourself. You hated showing such weakness in front of Dottore. Yet here you were, crying about your pitiful self while you were sure he had far more important things to attend to. After you spoke, he studied you for a few moments before he replied.

“I have no intention of leaving here until you speak. You may test my patience if you wish, but I will find out what troubles you regardless,” Dottore spoke rather matter-of-factly. You just wanted to shrivel up into nothing at this point. You knew when Dottore says he’ll do something, he’ll make good on it no matter what. And you were right, for countless minutes went by as your lover remained sitting in the same position, turning his gaze to observe your room at times before turning back to you.

Dottore realized that it had been a while since he was in your room. There were just some days when he could not afford the time, so the segments had been taking diligent care of you instead. He looked around your room and noticed some child-like drawings were pinned to the wall. Ah, that must have been you and Zandy. And the Ruin Machine parts scattered on your table. Probably another segment, perhaps Alpha. He makes a silent note to himself to ask you about everything you’ve done in his absence. He obviously wants to be updated on your life still, despite all of his bothersome duties. Dottore looks back at you and sees that you’re wearing a conflicted expression, perhaps wondering how to say what you want to say. That’s alright. Regrator will survive if he doesn’t get his paperwork today. The silence continues before you speak up softly.

“Zandik…” The call of his real name has his attention back on you, and the scholar is prepared to find a proper solution to whatever has you so worked up.

“Do you really love me?” 

…Alright, admittedly, that was not one of the things Dottore was ready to refute, and the Harbinger finds himself at a loss of words for a few moments, though he does not let it show on his face. Here he was wondering if maybe you had a bad flare-up of your illness, or if possibly some idiot spoke to you wrongly. But instead, you are questioning his love for you? How… surprising and frankly absurd, but he must get to the bottom of this.

“Where is this coming from?”

“I just…” Your face crumples further, looking even sadder if that was possible. “I just don’t understand…” You remember a conversation you had with Childe. He had said you must be quite exceptional to have the Doctor wrapped around your finger. You could only smile and bite your tongue because, in reality, you were nothing special. At least not anymore. Maybe centuries ago, but certainly not now. 

“Understand what?”

“Why you would still love me.” Your statement and crestfallen expression have Dottore’s brain working in an attempt to fully understand this misunderstanding. He could probably fill up a few journals about why you were most dear to him, his pens breaking countless times, about why everything about you far outshone the irrelevant other beings in his world, and why worshipping you instead of even the almighty Archons was something he found far more appealing. But he doesn’t have time for that, no, he needs to make you see how wrong you are as quickly as possible.

“Why would I not love you?” He inquires, hoping to tear down your arguments with reason, that also incorporates his true feelings in it.

“Well, how about my personality? I… I know I’m not the same as I used to be. I might not even be the same person anymore.” Though you generally tried to be as cheerful and happy as you could, just as your old self once was, oftentimes your illness would leave you in a despondent state. And you truly did feel bad, especially when you knew Dottore was taking time out of his busy schedule to be with you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to speak or even touch him. You just wanted to be alone. But Dottore had an answer for you.

“[Name], I am certainly not the same person as I once was, yet you still love me, do you not? It is no different for you. Furthermore, everyone changes. In a few hundred years, I suspect both of us will be changed people once again. Yet I know that I will still be with you, and you with me, despite our changes. So, do not fear change. You may be different, but my perspective on you shall never change regardless of what you may undergo.” Ah. So no matter how much you drifted away, became distant, swallowed by your illness and your own self-loathing, maybe even becoming unrecognizable to yourself, Dottore would still love you. His words sounded sincere enough, and you wavered a bit, but you still had too many thoughts flooding your brain.

“Okay, but what about my intelligence? I can hardly compare to you or even what I used to be in the Akademiya. Isn’t that a part of what you love me for? But I can hardly offer you anything like that now.” The way you spoke made it seem like you were dead set on making him realize that he couldn’t love you anymore, and though he was indeed a bit confused and even upset that you were looking down upon yourself like that, he continued to prove you wrong.

“You were asleep for over four hundred years. It is only perfectly normal that you are not in the same state as then. But I have no doubt you’ll reach that level once again in due time,” Dottore stated as a fact rather than a possibility. “And, you have actually assisted me with your knowledge far more times than you are aware of. I can think of quite a few times where your words have helped me with my research. So, I will have to disagree with you once again, for you are far smarter than you give yourself credit for.” His voice was calm as he spoke, but it seemed to further agitate you as you chewed on your lip. 

Even as you brought up more points, he shot them down effortlessly. Though his responses did make you feel somewhat better, you still couldn’t help but feel frustrated with yourself. Why? Why couldn’t you see the things he supposedly did? The all-knowing doctor was here, spending so much time in an attempt to make you feel better, something that no one would ever experience, and yet you still couldn’t understand.  By this point, you lay defeated, hand covering your exhausted face. Your constant criticisms seemed to have come to an end as Dottore watched on, scrutinizing you. But you had one last question.

“But me… am I even attractive anymore?” Admittedly, you had trouble looking at yourself sometimes. It was just far too hard to see yourself in a positive light at times. So you had no idea how Dottore could. At these words, there was a delayed response. He remained silent before you felt the bed return to normal, his weight leaving the mattress. Then, you heard the thud of something falling to the floor, and you opened your eyes to Dottore’s unmasked face, red eyes and scars greeting you. But that was not what surprised you. He moved to brush off the black fur that lined his back and the hanging accessories attached to it, the clothing dropping to the floor. And then, he worked at his white overcoat, which pooled at his feet too. You sat up in the bed, watching him with wide and curious eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Your question received no answer as Dottore merely continued to remove his clothing. His gloves came off and his blue shirt did too. The only thing remaining on his upper body was his harness. Which was… kind of funny to be honest, even though it wasn’t meant to be.

But it was then you realized you hadn’t seen Zandik nude since all those centuries ago at the Akademiya. And now you were finally taking a good look at his body, which was covered in markings and scarred skin. So his face wasn’t the only part that had scars… You wanted to reach out, to run your hands along him, and it seemed like Dottore expected you to, in fact, even wanted you to, by the look on his face that beckoned you closer. And so you did, pulling the blankets off of you and standing up, as you hesitantly caressed his skin, all while he looked on closely.

“What do you think?” He questioned.

“What do I think?” you repeated. “Well… I still think you’re awfully handsome, of course.” That was a no-brainer, he would always be incredibly attractive to you. Though before you could inquire as to whether these scars still hurt or not, he interrupted you.

“I know,” Dottore smirked. You raised your eyebrows at that response, but he continued. “Because I know everything about you. There’s nothing about you that I do not keep a record of, and I plan to keep it that way. And though I could once again use my words to answer your question, I do believe it will be more effective to answer through actions. And now that I have revealed myself to you, I hope that you will allow me the opportunity to examine you further to show you exactly how I feel. Yes, I need hard evidence if I am to prove my case to you.”

You took in his words for a second. You were honestly very hesitant about revealing your body to Zandik because you feared what he would think, but the way he spoke with such certainty made you feel a bit comforted. So you relented. 

“Alright,” you murmured, releasing your grip on him to shed your own clothes. Your clothes from your upper half fell onto the floor, leaving you topless. Dottore’s gaze remained on you intently, but there wasn’t anything sexual about this. He simply wanted to observe your beauty. But your bottom half remained covered.

“Continue.” You crossed your arms and sent him a look.

“I’m only continuing if you do too,” you motioned to how his pants and other things were on as well. “I… want to see all of you too.” You would feel more safe that way, not wanting to feel alone. Dottore chuckled.

“As you wish,” he went along with your request and stripped himself further. You gulped as your gaze raked along the rest of his body. His legs didn’t have as many scars as his upper body, but they were still there. Now, Dottore looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to follow through, and you did. You stripped yourself of your lower garments until both of you were only left in your underwear. As the cold air hit your bare body, you suddenly felt wildly self-conscious again.

“Well,” your throat was dry as you mumbled, “here I am. This is me.” You kept your eyes on the floor, not wanting to see his facial expression. Because you were deathly scared of disappointment. The few seconds of silence that followed made you suck in your breath, your stomach churning at what he could possibly be thinking. How frail and weak you probably looked, along with all the other imperfections you hated about yourself. It was all so noticeable to you, there was no way Dottore would miss it either. This was a horrible idea, and you opened your mouth to speak, to forget it, desperate to hide away from your lover when he spoke one lone word that made you stiffen.

“Beautiful.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You hesitantly met Dottore’s gaze so you could gauge his expression, and as much as you wanted to convince yourself that he was lying because there was no way your pitiful self could reach that level of praise from him, you knew he wasn’t. You’ve known him longer than anyone, so you knew when he was being sincere. And right now, there wasn’t a hint of mocking or falseness in his tone.

You could no longer hold his gaze at that simple but heavily loaded word, but in a few seconds, his bare hands were running around your body. You wanted to shy away from his touch, but Dottore’s grip on you was strong and firm. His fingers fluttered down your arms, your tummy, your back, carefully examining every inch of you while you could only watch on… it seemed as though he had your entire body mapped out and memorized. In fact, it seemed like he was enjoying this, a small hum escaping him as he mentally made notes about you. 

“Indeed, quite beautiful, even more than I predicted. Really, it’s rather interesting to see how my hypothesis can fall so short of reality.” His words made your body heat up in embarrassment, but you still couldn’t help but be confused by his words. Surely you weren’t anything that special. But he sure looked at you like you were.

“Would you permit me to have a closer look?”

“I… uh, sure,” you fumbled over your words, still left speechless from that. Zandik then effortlessly picked you up and placed you on the bed, making you squeak from the unexpected movement. He could quite literally see every part of you, as he now hovered over you as you lay on your back, his eyes boring into your figure as he restrained you from trying to squirm away. Your body was stiff and nervous as he hummed, gliding a finger across your body until he reached one particular scar.

“Ah, I remember this one. When I was on the ladder near the bookshelves in the Akademiya’s library and accidentally dropped a book on you.” You blinked once, and then twice at his words. Dottore actually remembered that, just from a mere marking? After you got over your initial surprise, you couldn’t help but let out some giggles at that. You had forgotten how you had gotten some of your scars since you avoided looking at yourself, but that memory was just too good.

“You know you nearly killed me that day? All because I called you ‘love’,” you huffed to which Dottore chuckled.

“You called me ‘love’ in public. Of course I would be startled.”

“It was three AM in the library, and there was no one there,” you rolled your eyes, finding some more comfort at how Dottore’s hands would wander over the parts you considered imperfections. 

“And this one, it was from when that idiot pushed you over.” The scar he was referring to was when you were on a group expedition with numerous other scholars, and some guy thought it would be a good idea to barrel into you, making you take a pretty nasty fall. Zandik was more pissed off than you. Looking back now, it was pretty funny. You didn’t realize it, but Dottore was doing a good job of distracting you from your thoughts. It just felt… really nice to be genuinely appreciated for who you were, despite the flaws you had, and you began to relax a little bit more. 

After some more memories and reminiscing, the room went silent again as the only thing that could be heard was the breathing of you two, your own breaths much calmer than what they were a while ago. Not a single part of your body hadn’t fallen victim to his hands. You were now cuddled into his chest as he held you. You just loved Dottore so much. Though your insecurities still lingered a little bit in the back of your mind, he did help you to feel much better. After all, who else besides you was afforded the words “you’re beautiful” from none other than Il Dottore?

Not to mention how handsome Zandik was. You got to brush your hands all over his body too… Although you were sad he’s been hurt so much, he was still wildly attractive. You wanted to like this more with him… more open. More exposed. You’d still be quite nervous every time, but maybe this could… help you. And you’d get more bonding time with your beloved.

“Zandik… could we start taking baths together?”

“Baths?” Zandik echoed while stroking your hair, then smirked at you.  “Could it be that you want to see more of me, dear [Name]? Why, I could never have expected you to be so bold.” You couldn’t help but blush and roll your eyes at his teasing.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, you got me there Zandik,” you huffed, further burying your face into his chest, fingering the straps of his harness. “I just thought it would be nice to do that with you,” you mumbled shyly, to which Zandik only chuckled.

“Of course. I see no reason as to why we can’t.” Dottore felt you smile against his bare skin, but he felt the need to give you a little talk.

“[Name],” he began, his voice a touch more serious than before, and you knew that he was probably going to lecture you a little bit. He tapped his fingers on your neck, a sign that he wanted you to look at him. So very reluctantly, you stopped nuzzling his chest and peeked up at him nervously. He sighed as he held your chin, just in case you tried to look away like you always did.

“I expect you will not hold your tongue around me in the future, yes? Allowing such thoughts to fester will only lead to further misunderstandings down the line. I do not want to see that for you,” he said rather sternly, but you knew it was with good intentions. Still, you hated putting your stupid troubles onto Dottore. It was surely so frivolous compared to what he had to deal with… And of course, it seems like your lover read your mind based on his next words.

“[Name], your words will never be anything less than important to me. You must speak to me whenever something ails you. All this is not good for your health, either.” Then, after a pause, he added a bit more solemnly, unconsciously holding your nude body tighter against his. “You have been completely silent for four hundred years. I want to hear whatever you have to say, regardless of what it may be.” Ah, that was right. He had to deal with you being deathly quiet for that long…

“Alright, I will,” you promised, returning the gesture and holding him tighter (if that was even possible, considering how weak you were).

“Good,” he replied, back to his usual demeanor.

This wouldn’t be the end. There would still be many days when you felt like this all over again. When your negative thoughts got the best of you and tried to consume you whole. In fact, every day could be a struggle, with your illness and mood fluctuating. But that could wait for tomorrow.

Right now, there was only this moment where only the two of you existed, and that was all that mattered.

Bonus:

Dottore had begun to move away from you, and his warmth leaving your body immediately had you protesting and clinging onto him.

“[Name], you have to put your clothes back on now otherwise you’re going to catch a chill.”

“I don’t want to,” you whined, trying to pull his arm back into the bed. He looked at you with amusement.

“Alright,” he gave into your demands, “but only for a little while more. And you must come even closer then.”

You didn’t know if it was possible to get any closer to Zandik than this, but you happily accepted.

—

“Although the raven and butterfly promised to be bound to each other for all eternity, the butterfly began to long for something more. They became somewhat jealous of the other creatures in the forest, and longed to follow their ways with their own darling.”

Marriage.

It was something that was growing more and more of a need rather than a want. You never thought you would be here, lying awake at night, daydreaming of Dottore marrying you, but here you were now. Admittedly, hearing the stories from the other Fatui agents was mainly what put the idea in your head. When you inquired into their love life, many of them would tell you about their spouse. “Spouse.” What a wonderful word. A sign that their love for each other had reached such a stage had you smiling. But then you realized that you could not call Dottore your husband, nor could he call you his spouse.

You didn’t expect it to bother you that much, but it did. Why weren’t you two married? Was that why people doubted your relationship so much? Perhaps if you had a ring and some papers to show for it, it would finally get through their thick skulls?

Besides that, the idea of marrying Zandik was very appealing. You didn’t need or want some big, fancy wedding, but rather it was the notion of marriage that you enjoyed. Yes, you knew you two would never be apart from each other, but marrying him was still nice to think about. And it would be so cute! So you made up your mind to marry Zandik. All you needed was to get him to agree.

“Dottore, let’s get married.” That one sentence made Dottore stop moving his pen, leaving a blot of ink where he left it resting.

“Pardon?” You had barged into his office a mere few seconds ago and those were the first words you uttered.

“I would like us to get married. You know, officially and all of that.” You stood right in front of his desk, staring at him with a proud smile on your face. Dottore stared right back at you with an unreadable expressionable, silence overtaking the room, before chuckling and picking back up his pen. 

“Very amusing, dear,” he continued writing whatever he was working on. You furrowed your eyebrows at his dismissal, quite offended at how he blew you off, before grabbing the pen right from his hand, unclicking it, and placing it in the cup holder. You had his attention once again.

“Zandik,” you emphasized his real name so he knew you were serious, “I mean it.” Dottore peered at you before folding his hands on his desk.

“Why?”

“Why?” You repeated. Wasn’t it completely obvious, the reasons as to why one would want to get married? And really, how many people could be like “Oh yeah, I’ve been married for a few hundred years!” (You imagined yourself doing that to others in the future. Well, hopefully, you’ll be alive in a few centuries too.) 

“Well, I mean, because we love each other of course. And marriage is one of the highest displays of love one could show to another.” 

“I see,” he seemed to take in your words. “Although I beg to differ. I believe that the mere concept of marriage could never compare to how I have shown my devotion to you in much larger amounts.”

“I-I guess you’re right about that,” you admitted, “but it would be… romantic! And there would be hard evidence, yes, tangible proof for both of us as a sign of our love.”

“Tangible proof?” The Harbinger chuckled. “I already have much evidence of our love. It’s standing right in front of me. What more proof would I want than you?” He then tapped to his neck, and you followed suit, brushing your fingers against your neck only to find a bite mark that was healing. Ugh! How dare he be both romantic and refute both of your points? And also curse him for not taking you seriously! Normally, you would have gotten mushy over the flirting but this time you felt the prick of annoyance.

“It could be like, a new chapter for us. You know.” You were running out of practical reasons. The legal benefits stuff, last names, or whatever, didn’t apply to or matter to the two of you. Your relationship was quite unique after all. A Harbinger didn’t care much for the law anyway.

“I can’t see our relationship changing that much after one ceremony.” 

“Well, it would be gradual…” 

“What exactly would be different?” You couldn’t believe you were going back and forth about a subject such as marriage. Wouldn’t the average person be overjoyed to be proposed to by their longtime lover?! Ah, but you should kick yourself for expecting things to go normally. Zandik was certainly not the average person. 

“Okay, then how about the fact that I want to marry you, Zandik? Nothing more, nothing less. It’s solely what I want. That’s all.” You didn’t realize your voice had risen in volume until after the fact, and you immediately winced at his expression. You probably looked so dumb, getting so worked up over something like this. 

But indeed, you were sure Dottore could see the selfish part of you now. Perhaps there was a part of you who felt guilty for being unable to express your love in the same ways you used to be able to due to your illness. A part of you who still felt terribly sorry for your lover, having to deal with your lackluster abilities. So perhaps by marrying Dottore, it would be a way of showing him how much you loved him, a simple yet clearly efficient act that would hopefully be sufficient enough for a while, until you were strong enough to do more extravagant things. But oh, you should have known better than that. You can’t get away like that, [Name]. So you quickly backtracked your words. There was no use in pushing this subject. And really, you were obviously quite content with the current state of the relationship. He loved you, you loved him. What more could you ask for, especially being the way you are now?

“You’re right, it’s dumb. Never mind,” you mumbled in a deflated manner, gaze falling downcast. “I’ll go now,” you tried to quickly excuse yourself and go hide in a corner, but Dottore’s sigh made you stop.

“[Name], come here,” he called you over to his lap. Although you wanted to just run out of the office, you knew that he would catch you before you could make any good distance, so it was probably best to just comply now. So you made your way to Dottore and sat down on his lap, his hands steadying you and pulling your back flush against his chest. One arm was secured around your tummy while the other stroked your cheek.

“[Name], you know I did not mean to offend you. I was simply curious as to your reasoning.”

“Mhm.” Oh, you were definitely mad at him from the way you refused to meet his eye. He sighed once again, and he knew there was only one way to fix this situation.

“Let us get married.” Those few words made you perk up in his lap and practically swing around, your chest now pressed against his.

“Really?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. “But why?”

“Yes, really. And for why… think of it as indulging my curiosity while simultaneously making my soon-to-be partner happy. It does interest me to see if our attitudes to each other will change after marriage.” Really, the bigger part of the picture was that he didn’t want you to sulk or be mad at him, he preferred to see you smiling. But he didn’t need to say that part out loud. And he couldn’t anyway because, in the next instant, you kissed him hard before launching into a whole speech.

“Oh, I promise, it won’t even be anything big! I know you don’t like big fancy gatherings, so it could just be the two of us! And maybe the Tsaritsa I think, because we still need the person to officiate it or whatever, but I promise it won’t be a hassle! Trust me, you’re going to enjoy it okay?” You spoke so fast he was surprised you didn’t trip over your words. As quick as you spoke, you pecked his cheeks before hopping off his lap and out the door, muttering something about getting help from Columbina.

…Well, it was a good thing that you were still full of surprises, Dottore thought.

—

“And so the raven and the butterfly promised to join together in an act of union, although their lives were already heavily intertwined. Soon, there would be truly nothing that could sever their bond of love. But the raven still needed a bit of help understanding the importance of such an official union.”

By now, news of his wedding had spread. Not to the underlings, no, he did not want to listen to their gossiping every corner he turned. But rather all of the Harbingers knew of the event. Most of them were completely baffled but had the decency to send their well wishes. For you, mostly. Not for him. And then there were others who wanted to intrude on his business badly. Namely Pantalone. He was the first to wish him, and the first to curse him if he hurt you in any way. 

And now he was the first to badger him on his marriage. Apparently, he believed that he wasn’t trying hard enough, as he left all the details and organization to you. Dottore didn’t really see the problem. He was letting you live your dream, and you were perfectly fine without his input. But Pantalone clearly had a problem with this.

“Dear Doctor, you truly are an idiot sometimes.” Dottore paused his writing.

“Excuse me?”

“Your lack of attention is one thing, but do you think that showing up in bloody clothes is acceptable?” He was probably the kind of person to finish a surgery and then head straight to the wedding right after. Dottore glanced at his arms and indeed, there were some dried blood stains that he had yet to change out of. But he scoffed at the banker, he may not care much for social etiquette, but even he knew the basics.

“Obviously I would wear clean clothes,” he clarified.

“I’m sure you would,” Pantalone replied calmly and sarcastically. “But my point still stands, as you clearly have no idea how serious this is.” Dottore was partially offended by Pantalone’s words. The piles of notebooks about you surely showed how much he knew and understood you.

“[Name] would be happy regardless of what I do. Besides, the ceremony is only for an hour or so. Perhaps even less.”

“Yes, they would be,” he sighed. “I don't think I'll ever understand how that poor thing tolerates you. But just think about this,” he began pacing around the room as if he didn’t subtly insult the doctor. “Of course, I’m sure I barely know the faintest thing about [Name]’s past, but when was the last time you’ve seen them so eager to get all dressed up? So excited for something, hmm?” Dottore crossed his arms and began to thoughtfully consider his co-worker’s words. 

Indeed, you were practically bouncing and glowing with every footstep you took. Really, to think something like this could make you so happy. Perhaps this was another example of how his brain worked differently from yours. You had marked the day on your calendar and the first thing you did when you woke up every morning was count the days until the ceremony. You were also far more affectionate, being in your “honeymoon phase” as you called it. 

Every so often, Columbina, who was also covering the expense for you, would barge into the lab with countless clothes and designers who would customize an outfit for you. Dottore didn’t quite understand or particularly enjoy your friendship, but he couldn’t deny he liked hearing you laugh and smile, so he let it slide. Of course, neither he nor the segments were allowed to see as you insisted it would remain a surprise until the wedding. Zandy was excluded from this rule though.

“It may be only a mere hour, but surely the Doctor is capable enough to make his soon-to-be spouse happy in that short time. Even your own segments know better,” Pantalone continued with a smile still on his face. “I’ll even choose the outfit for you, as I’m sure you have nothing of the sort in that dreadful closet of yours.” And yes, Dottore often showed up to balls and gatherings in his same clothes, ignoring the fact they were usually formal occasions. For your sake, he really wasn’t going to let the Doctor show up to your wedding looking like… that. 

Although Dottore didn’t appreciate Regrator’s passive-aggressive words, he was beginning to understand and he hated that the man was right. Pantalone took Dottore’s silence as a sign that he had won.

“So we have a deal then?”

“Fine,” Dottore grumbled. Ah, the lengths he’d go for you…

“Splendid. I’m sure [Name] will be positively ecstatic by this. Also, the Mora will be coming out of your funding budget.”

“...What?”

—

“At long last, the raven and the butterfly swore themselves to each other, promising to allow nothing to come between their love.”

The date of your wedding had come, and Dottore had barely seen you. Yes, you had been whisked off by Columbina early in the morning to prepare for the ceremony. But he would see you soon enough.

True to his word, Pantalone had provided a suit that fit him rather well. (He could only hope that it didn’t dent his budget too much, though.) As he got ready, he wondered how you would look. He could only assume that Columbina was going to make you look your very best. Although Dottore always thought the tradition of two spouses not showing their outfits to each other until the day of the wedding was stupid, he was beginning to see the appeal of anticipation. Like after when he’s working on an experiment and the only way to progress is to wait. Actually, he thought the concept of marriage was stupid in the first place, but here he was anyway. And he never thought he would ever find himself wearing a suit, but look at him now. Ah, you really did change him, don’t you?

The venue was Zapolyarny Palace of course. There was no better place. Not only was the inside of it quite beautiful, it was the home of the Tsaritsa who would be conducting the ceremony. The wedding was to be a very private thing, with only you, him, and the God in attendance. You both preferred it that way, wanting the moment to be between only you two. So when Dottore arrived at the grand hall, he expected it to be empty, but the Tsaritsa was there before him, already standing at the altar. A smile appeared on her face once she saw him.

“My dear Harbinger, there you are,” she waved him over and he soon found himself standing next to the Archon. 

“Your Highness,” Dottore nodded his head as a form of respect while the Tsaritsa continued to hum in delight.

“Why, you look quite dashing today. I know [Name] will be overjoyed once they see you.” The Tsaritsa had been rooting for you two for a long time, and now it had finally officially come to fruition. Dottore chuckled at her words.

“I would hope so. This is the first time they’ve seen me in such attire. Speaking of, where are they?”

“They will be here soon. Columbina is fussing over them a lot. But you, are you excited Dottore?” The scholar mulled over her words. Perhaps excited was a stretch, but he was indeed looking forward to it. Perhaps it was the act of making you happy that brought him more joy than the actual marriage. Perhaps the idea of seeing the ring on your finger brought him a certain sense of possessiveness knowing others could see his claim on you. Perhaps the idea of kissing you until you couldn’t take it anymore after the wedding was appealing as well.

…Alright, maybe he was excited. The Tsaritsa seemed to notice his inner conflict.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to answer. I know exactly how my Harbinger feels about this all, anyway,” the Cryo Archon sent a knowing look to her subject, to which Dottore internally cursed himself for showing those emotions. But at that moment a door swung open and a chorus of giggles echoed into the room. Columbina’s face peered through the door before she swiftly hid herself again.

“Oh! Looks like we’ve kept them waiting.”

“Huh, Dottore is there already?”

“Yes, dear [Name], now it’s your time to shine~” There was a shuffle of feet and movement in the other room, but he could not see it as you were not near the doorway.

“W-wait! Are you sure I look okay? What if something is messed up or-”

“Darling, you’re worrying far too much. I bet Il Dottore himself will be left speechless by your beauty.”

“But- but, I don’t know, what if he doesn’t- ah, hey!” Your words were abruptly cut off as Columbina practically shoved you out of the room, nearly making you trip and then slamming the door shut with only a “good luck!” You scowled at your friend’s ill but well-intentioned treatment before immediately straightening up, knowing that the Tsaritsa and your soon-to-be husband could now see you.

And then your eyes landed on your Zandik. He was stunning. Well, he was always stunning to you, but his beauty could surely not be described by your limited vocabulary right now. The suit hugged him so perfectly, going so well with his mask. Perhaps it was because it was such a special day, but everything about him just seemed to stand out more than usual.

Little did you know, Dottore was similarly entranced by you, immediately raking his eyes over your figure and analyzing every part of you. Only that he did not outwardly show it unlike you, who stood there comically with your mouth agape. Dottore had always thought you were the most beautiful being to come into Teyvat. Not even the Gods could hold a candle to your beauty, which was certainly a high standard to meet, but you exceeded it. Perhaps it was blasphemous to compare a mere human to an almighty God, but he felt no remorse in speaking the truth.

“Dearest [Name], you look as beautiful as freshly fallen snow,” the Tsaritsa’s praise snapped you out of your stupefied daze and you composed yourself once again.

“T-thank you, Your Highness,” you gratefully accepted the praise, and then realized they were looking at you expectantly. Especially Dottore. His gaze didn’t leave you for one second as you hurried to the altar. Somehow, as you stood across from him, you were a bit embarrassed to meet his gaze. The jitters were finally settling in.

“We are gathered here today to witness the joining of [Name] and Zandik. Two people who have displayed undying love for each other for centuries,” the Archon began, sending soft looks to the two of you, and then nudging your arm to finally meet the gaze of your lover. So you hesitantly lifted your face to make eye contact with Dottore. There he stood, a smile stretched on his face.

The smile was composed of many things. Naturally, it reflected his usual assured self-confidence with a hint of a smirk. But more importantly, it contained something more real, more soft, that even you had only seen very occasionally. Although it was veiled under many layers that left it hard to see, you could see it was a smile of love. That made you grow a bit warm, and you couldn’t help the smile that crept up on your lips. 

“These two have been through the unthinkable together, and yet their bonds remain unbreakable, their love everlasting. Although they do not need marriage to prove how deep their love is for each other, today they will make it official.” The Tsaritsa kept her words short and sweet. She knew either of you did not care for all of the long, boring, drawn-out details. You two just really wanted to get married. And it was better for you to profess your vows in private. She knew her Harbinger would hold his words back in her presence. She then turned to you and asked the question you saw coming, motioning for you two to hold hands. Dottore still wore gloves, but this pair was thinner than his usual ones.

“Do you take Zandik to be your husband? To love and cherish him above all else?”

“I do,” you replied with no hesitation. The God then turned to Dottore.

“Do you take [Name] to be your spouse? To love and cherish them regardless of what may happen?”

“I do,” you could see his shark teeth peeking out from his mouth. The Tsaritsa nodded in acknowledgment of the answers.

“By the power vested within me as the Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon of Snezhnaya, I now pronounce you as a lawfully wedded couple,” the Tsaritsa said seriously before she switched to a more lighthearted tone. “You may now kiss,” she smiled at the two of you. And then Dottore leaned in for the kiss first, catching you off guard but you eagerly reciprocated. You had intended for it to be a short but sweet kiss, considering the Tsaritsa was right there, but it seemed like Dottore had other plans, as he deepened the kiss. Highly aware of the Cryo God’s amused stare, you tried to mumble a protest against your sealed lips and gripped your husband’s suit harder to get him to stop embarrassing you. But this only made the Archon laugh.

“It is always lovely to see a couple so passionately in love. How beautiful,” the Tsaritsa grinned, giving her last blessing before Dottore finally pulled away from you. “But, I will not intrude on the newlyweds' time any longer. Please, I hope you enjoy the rest of the day, and may it remain eternal in your memories,” the Tsaritsa smiled knowingly at the two of you before making her exit. She was indeed the God of Love. Only you and your new husband remained in the spacious hall now, and a silence swept into the room. Well, what does one say or do after getting married?

“Zandik-”

“Ah ah, we still have one thing to do.” He then produced two boxes presumably with rings inside.

“Oh! The rings!” You had forgotten about that until now, with all of the things that had happened.

“Give me your hand, dear.” Oh, it always gave you butterflies when he called you a pet name. He was really in a good mood. You stuck out your hand and he popped the box open, revealing a gorgeous ring, a dazzling blue jewel in the center. You were definitely going to end up with a sore lip, from how much you were biting it to stop smiling so hard. Dottore then slipped the ring onto your finger with ease, a perfect fit of course. It was no surprise he knew your measurements without having to ask. But now it was your turn. 

You fiddled with his ring in your hand. It was a lot simpler than your one, probably because he did not care much for such extravagance on himself, and he would most likely keep it stored away rather than on his finger for obvious reasons. He definitely did not want the blood of a random person dirtying it…

With bated breath, you tenderly grasped his fingers and slipped the band onto him. It was done, and you were incredibly pleased.

“My husband,” you smiled.

“My darling,” he reciprocated your affections and was about to speak again when you suddenly launched yourself at him, hugging him with as much strength as you could muster.

“You’re mine, all mine. My husband,” you repeated the words as they felt so good on your tongue. Your husband wrapped an arm around you, stroking your hair.

“I have always been yours,” he replied like this was old news. But if becoming your husband would help solidify that for you, then this was well worth it, Dottore thought. “And you have always been mine. It will never change.” He felt you smile and giggle into his chest before you pulled away, a truly happy expression on your face.

“See? I was true to my word, wasn’t I? Quick and simple, just the two of us. You liked it, didn’t you?” Oh, you were just begging for praise now. But he would entertain you, just for today.

“Indeed, it was an efficient ceremony. But I’d say the best part was seeing you like this,” Dottore commented as he ran his hands over your chest, admiring the smaller details about your attire and how well it hugged you. “Very alluring,” he rumbled. You ignored the heat rising up your body as you returned the compliment.

“Well, I could say the same thing about you, love. I would have never guessed you would have greeted me in such an outfit,” you traced your fingers over his tie, resisting the urge to yank on it to kiss him. That could wait for later because right now you were shamelessly staring at him in it.

“Well, I can assure you that you’ll have another chance to further examine me later,” he chuckled at your prying gaze, “but for now, give me your hand.” You looked at him questioningly but agreed when he pulled you closer yet again.

“Did you know? It is customary for newlyweds to dance at their weddings. That is something you would enjoy, no?”

“Oh! I’d love to! But we don’t know how to dance, do we?” Dottore grinned widely, his pointy teeth nipping his lip, making you question him.

“Wait, you know how to dance?”

“Of course. Being a Harbinger means acquiring a vast variety of skills.”

“You never told me that!”

“You never asked.”

“Well, it’s not something I would normally ask you! You should have told me,” you huffed. 

“Now I’m going to look dumb, with my lack of dancing skills compared to you.” Your husband chuckled.

“Do not fret. I will guide you.” He raised your already clasped hands higher until you two were in basic form. Well, as best as you could, because there was not only your inexperience, but your illness made it hard to keep up such a stance. 

And you two danced. If it could be called dancing, considering the amount of time you stepped on his feet or even tripped, along with the multitude of apologies. But it didn’t matter. It was fun, and your laughter rang out loudly in the grand hall. It didn’t matter that it came to a point when your feet couldn’t handle it anymore, you still let yourself be twirled and adored by your new husband, enjoying the first delight of being married.

—

“The hearts of the raven and butterfly were undeniably together as one, which led to great joy for the two of them.”

Alright, you had to admit it. Dottore was right. Outwardly, it seemed like nothing much had changed about your relationship. Life was really the same routine. Your illness and his duties still existed after all. But that was okay! Change does not need to be seen to occur. Perhaps the change happened within you both. Your heart was certainly lighter now. But it would certainly make you happier to partake in some more “domestic” activities, now that you two were a married couple. Though you obviously weren’t going to bring that up to your husband. He already has enough to do, after all! Still working on the cure to your illness too, without rest…

… 

…Well, you shouldn’t think about it too much! You should believe in your husband, no matter what happens. And speaking of, it seemed like your wish for domesticity would be granted without you asking, for one day Dottore came to you with a request.

“[Name], I require your assistance.” Those few words had you immediately intrigued because it was rare that Dottore asked you for your help since most of the stuff he needed help with was far beyond your ability now. Naturally, you were eager to please him.

“I need you to help me…” you held your breath in anticipation, “cook.” 

Huh? In disbelief, you could not help but repeat his words.

“You want me to help you cook? Like a meal?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Dottore replied, dead serious. You had to hold back your laughter.

“But… why?” Dottore let out a sigh and rubbed his temples.

“Regrator has forced my hand into doing frivolous nonsense for the sake of his games once again. What happened was…” Dottore then went on to explain the conversation he had with the Ninth Harbinger. Apparently, they had gotten into one of their usual prickly discussions, and somehow it had turned into a list of things the other could not do, and cooking had been brought up. Of course, not wanting to appear inferior to the other Harbinger (who was surprisingly a decent cook) declared himself as an okay one too. Pantalone, who loved to be as petty as possible when it came to his co-worker (and could probably detect the lie anyway), requested him to demonstrate his skills to him. If he was a good cook like he claimed, then it would surely be no issue, right? He wouldn’t mind putting his budget on the line, right?

Now, this was one of the very few times Dottore regretted lying for the sake of his goals. That was definitely worth a long laugh, you thought, as you couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore. Dottore was not amused in the slightest. But then you had a thought. You wondered if Pantalone did this on purpose so that you could enjoy the domestic life with your husband. He was very perceptive when it came to these things after all. Maybe you were reaching with that but… you thanked him silently anyway.

“So your plan is to have me help you cook, and then pass it off as if you did all of it? Well, I certainly won’t say no. But I worry for you… I still remember what happened in the Akademiya.” You don’t want to think about the dreadful times of Zandik ruining the dorm’s kitchen when he tried to cook.

“It will be alright. I will follow your lead.” Oh, being in charge of Dottore for a few hours? Well, now you really couldn’t pass up this opportunity. 

For the dish, you had decided to go with something you were familiar with. Samosas. You remember making them for Zandik quite often in the Akademiya. In fact, it was the first dish you cooked for him and one of the things that won him over. Those were good times.

Although, your hands were still not the best at dealing with stuff in the kitchen. They were shaky and you could possibly hurt yourself. So instead you decided to guide him through the technical part of the process. Thankfully, Dottore’s expertise with a scalpel came in handing while cutting ingredients. So that part wasn’t too hard. You just had to ignore how your body warmed when you had to place your hands over his to show him how to properly do it.

Surprisingly, he was rather non-combative as you instructed him what to do, the spices to add, how to mix and add the ingredients, and whatnot. It was rather cute, really, to see him try so hard. The only problem was that he still fucking blew it, smoke filling the room (you had no idea how that could happen) and you had to do it yourself (with him standing protectively next to you as if the food and fire were going to jump out and attack you.) 

At least shaping and rolling out the dough was a less challenging task for him… though it seemed like he lacked the patience and delicateness needed for the rest of it, so he opted to rest his hands around your waist, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he observed your handiwork. It was a little bit crooked, considering your shaky hands, but far better than whatever Dottore was doing. And although you welcomed the weight of his chest pressed against your back, you weren’t really sure why he continued to look since this wasn’t all that interesting.

“Dottore, you know you don’t need to stay? I can tell you when the samosas are done, I know you’re busy.” Your husband seemed to playfully ponder your words.

“I’d prefer to observe the skillfulness of my spouse.” The fact that he wanted to stay with you made you smile.

“From this position of all? Mhm, sure thing,” you hummed in amusement as his arms tightened around you.

The domestic life was a good one.

(Pantalone took one look at the samosas and instantly knew the Doctor could have never made them, but did not say a word, for his goal had been accomplished.)

After that, strangely enough, there were a few more events that you would consider “domestic.” They weren’t frequent, no, but you wouldn’t say they were thinly sparse. One of your favorites had just been a few days ago.

“Eh? You want to… read a book with me?” You had absolutely no idea why Dottore suddenly entered your room as night fell with only that request. You were surprised by this as he never took an interest in your novels. Although you took an interest in his scientific texts every now and then, you still preferred your silly fictional novels. It was nice to escape to another world. But that wasn’t the point right now.

“That’s correct.”

“But why?”

“Why not? Is it so strange that I want to learn more about what occupies my lover’s time so much?”

“Well… no,” you admitted. You were caught off guard at first, but of course, you’d happily agree. “Okay, you can choose any book you want,” you motioned to your shelves which was home to numerous other things than books as well. Dottore looked at the variety of books you had before choosing one at random, wiping the dust off. You two then got comfortable in bed, your back pressed snugly against his chest as he held the book open in front of you. Looking at the title, you couldn’t seem to remember what this one was about, so it would definitely be nice to reread it with your husband. 

As he began to read the first few pages, your mind began to recall bits and pieces of the book. And that’s when it hit you. You remember this book had a… particularly passionate kissing scene right at the very beginning that had your face a little hot the first time you read it. Oh, you definitely did not want Dottore to know that! Why did he have to choose this book out of all the ones there? At this realization, you began to grow antsy between his arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just realized, we should probably stop reading this book.”

“Why?” 

“Um, you see, this is actually the second book in the series. So we need to read the first book first in order to understand it.” The poor excuse flew off your tongue.

“Where is this first book, then?”

“Well, I don’t own it…”

“So you read the second book without reading the first?”

“Erm, yes, I did actually… and I’m warning you now so you aren’t confused like I was! It’s for your own sake.” Okay, now you had dug yourself in a hole because that was obviously a blatant lie.

“You’re hiding something,” Dottore observed after blankly staring at you for a few moments, before swiftly moving the book out of your reach and flipping through the pages, to which you protested obviously giving yourself away. But it was too late.

“Oh? What do we have here?” He quickly scanned a few pages, his grin only growing larger and larger as you hid your face. But Dottore found it extremely amusing if anything.

“Why, I would have never thought this is the kind of stuff you read. Perhaps there is more that I don’t know about you than I thought,” he teased, causing a loud groan to emit from you. A part of you wondered if he planned this, from the way he was already moving in to nip at your earlobe.

“Tell me, did you come in here because you actually wanted to read or just tease me?” You pouted as he cupped your chin, bringing you close for a kiss, to which you happily reciprocated, albeit a bit peeved.

“I guess you’ll never know,” Dottore smirked before enveloping you in his arms and pushing you down onto the bed, capturing your lips once again. “But I am curious to find out how realistic those scenes could be.”

Needless to say, a lot more kissing than reading got done that day.

—

“The raven and butterfly’s happiness continued for much longer. But of course, every creature is aware that nothing lasts forever, and even the lightning in the sky would agree with that statement. All fairytales must come to an end. That was no different for the raven and the butterfly.”

Ah. The time had flown by rather quickly, Nahida thought. Already she was nearly at the end of this tale, despite how lengthy it was. For some reason, that always seemed to happen whenever she tried to retell this particular chronicle. But now, she was ready once again to see this story to the very end, as always.

However, her gentle heart still cannot help but feel a little bit of pity for the two of you, knowing how this tale ends.

[decolonize-the-everything]

WW3 will be white supremacists vs everyone else.

Not a singular Western country in support of Israel is innocent of colonization, war crimes, treaty violations, or having white supremacists in politics.

Each one of them has been ignoring protests and strikes in their own countries for human rights and protections. Human rights and protections that have thus far been denied btw. Meanwhile they give themselves raises and protections against protesters and so called "terrorists." They inflate military budgets while their people grow more agitated and they don't care.

Not a single one of them have a thriving, happy people.

Historically they've been awful for Black, indigenous, and immigrant populations despite many of their countries being founded on immigration. And even in modern times all of them currently have trials going on to combat state violence such as genocide, rights violations, or police brutality.

None of them have ever been paragons of human rights. None of them represent the world's moral compass least of all Germany.

So why and how is it that you can look at the USA and German support of Israel and your thought is "finally!" instead of seeing a red flag.

White supremacists are teaming up in a Big way.

And this time they're letting white Jewish people count as white which seems to have short-circuited ur brains so let me remind y'all that Nazis hate Jewish people but not every white suprmacist is a Nazi. And white supremacists have a long history of providing white Jewish people with conditional white privileges

White supremacists exploiting white Jewish people for their vote or political support is nothing new and continues to be no surprise.

We can look at Trump's attempt to do exactly that as recently as 2019. We know he isn't an ally of any Jewish person anywhere and yet here he is trying to get right-wingers hyped up with virtue signaling.

The same article addressed how this right wing rhetoric and trying to incite it among Republicans is itself antisemitic and careless.

The past 24 hours have cemented President Donald Trump's reputation as America's "racist in chief." After tweeting a hateful diatribe about how four Democratic congresswomen of color should "go back" to where they came from, the President attempted to justify his racism with accusations that these members of Congress are anti-Israel. On Monday morning, he tweeted that these lawmakers "have made Israel feel abandoned by the U.S." and cited South Carolina Senator Lindsey Graham, who called them all "anti-America" and "anti-Semitic."

[...]And despite his feigning concern about anti-Semitism, nearly three-quarters of Jews feel less secure than they did two years ago and the majority of Jews attribute their rising insecurity to Trump's policies. More specifically, many are concerned about Trump encouraging right-wing extremism and Republicans tolerating white nationalism within their ranks. In fact, according to a March Gallup poll, more than 70% of Jews continue to disapprove of Trump and only 16% now identify as Republicans.

....then Biden supported a fucking genocide in the name of trying to establish a safe place for Jewish people. When we all know his interest is actually oil in the middle east.

There is no fucking way either of them or the USA cares about any Jewish people or had their best interest in mind.

So that entire argument aside....

We can't keep letting white supremacists play these identity politic games and turning us on each other so we're keeping each other oppressed instead of helping each other be free.

Right now there are white queer people in my asks calling me (an Ojibwe) a Russian psyop for not wanting to vote blue.

That's the shit I'm talking about.

At the end of the day I don't want anyone except white supremacy and white supremacists to be decimated. I want a liberated and free people all over the globe.

Is that what you want too?

Then we have got to start focusing on the big picture. You are not my enemy and I am not yours. Our enemies are the same and they are unified.

We should be too.

International solidarity against white supremacy for the first time, for forever.

[miyacults]

begging on my hands and knees for a sequel to the daddy gojo fic but w sugu please please please

a/n: my dear nonnie this is less than u actually deserve but i hope it fuels the stsg daddy agenda im pushing here.

violet, blue, green, red to keep me out… i win.

( ft. suguru geto. )

Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.

< part one.

wc: 3k (proofread? probably not)

cw: [ 18+ explicit content minors dni ] technically this is part two of a gojo fic (linked above) but can be read individually so no biggie. fem reader (female bodied). teacher!suguru meaning he did not deflect here okay, we’re living a happy life away from the pain. first one was gojo action so this is for geto action only but poly satosugu is clearly implied, that’s the whole point of this basically hehe. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be very careful! minimal to no prep. unprotected sex. p in v sex. mentions of blood. mentions of death. these two pamper reader too much so reader’s a little spoiled but in the good way. geto is a sweet pretty much. if i forgot anything to put here lemme know. enjoy! <3~

From time to time, Suguru wonders about his soul in genuine distress. Perhaps out of guilt and worry and only in moments like these—well past midnight with bloodied nuckles and heavy footsteps echoing through thin walls, dragging himself up the stairs of the palatial home he and Satoru bought together, with nothing but a familiar sense of anxiety building in his chest. But it’s not like his personal cup of remorse is filled with all the haunting thoughts of the bad things he has done and seen in his life thanks to his sinister line of work, or as if such awful thoughts could actually pull some strings within his untainted heart—because that’s far from being the case.

It’s just—it’s just who he is. The blessing and the curse of being a Sorcerer, of swallowing venom as a whole to save the lives of those who live an ignorant bliss.

White marble stains in scarlet as he approaches his bedroom in silence, mind reflecting on the fact that things should be good now, that everything’s fine and danger has been erased. Any man in love would have handled the situation in the exact way he did, wouldn’t they? He wonders about this, too, quite frequently, and he hates to admit that the question lingers on his brain for far too long for his own liking. It makes him dread the fact that he’s not doing a good job in taking care of you.

Yet it doesn’t matter, as Suguru already knows the answer better than anyone—and he doesn’t qualify much for the kind-hearted-person term (or so he’s been thinking since the last blossom of his youth and the tragedies that showered his naive teen years catches him off guard). But he really doesn’t want to either, because then that would mean that he can’t successfully protect the thing he cares about the most in the world. And he can’t let that happen.

But the look Satoru shoots at him as soon as he opens his bedroom door and finds him sitting comfortably in the wide couch—awaiting his return, as usual—has him breathing correctly again, mind turning back from unwanted ideas that bother him to no end.

“You got busy tonight, huh,” Satoru murmurs quietly, head lolling to the side while scanning his best friend’s tired figure.

“I took care of the scum,”

“And didn’t invite?”

Suguru’s lips turn into a devious smirk, heavy body finally falling between the many soft pillows his large bed has.

“Princess was so upset, needed you to stay by her side,” he resolves quite calmly, dried blood forcing a horrid contrast to his charming features. “If I’m not there to hold her, then you must,”

There’s a silent warning to his words, and Satoru doesn’t have to make an effort to catch it immediately. He already knows it by heart, he always has—he always will.

“She couldn’t stop crying for over an hour anyway,” he ends up retorting sharply instead, hoarse voice weighing a tone of suppressed anger. “Hope you gave the bastard a merciless death,”

How couldn’t he after what he did to you?

The day had started quiet, tranquil—the week itself abnormally peaceful for them. Maybe it was the fleeing summer coercing the unpleasant job of Sorcerers into days of calm, long work hours slowing down and making them believe they couldn’t relax a little bit. So they decided that it would be a good idea to take you to that new coffee shop in Shinjuku you were dying to go lately. And it was fine, of course, you were incredible happy to be outside the walls of home as you hold hands with both them in a sea of smiley people.

Until it wasn’t.

That desolated look on your face when you found yourself trapped into the arms of some Curse User seeking vengeance towards them—Suguru memorized it, because it caused him some undescribable pain he couldn’t possibly explain even if he tried to. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of gleaming tears drying in your cheeks and the sound of broken sobs, garbled whimpers of their names coming out of parted lips as you held onto nothing for balance, unable to stop yourself from breaking down at the fear, the horror, the trepidation it forced your body into a shock.

He couldn’t prevent what happened after they took you back and he tried to calm you down by placing you in Satoru’s lap, hurriedly murmuring something about making it right. It’s gonna be okay, princess, you’re gonna be okay. He won’t hurt you ever again. I’m here to protect you.

Maybe—just maybe—you heard the strained tone that bathed his words in that moment. And maybe you didn’t understand it right away, or maybe you didn’t want to.

Because Suguru has always been there to make things right, and nothing else has to matter when he and Satoru are there to protect you from the dangers of the world.

Like they have devoted themselves to do.

Suguru doesn’t remember the exact time you came into his life—he doesn’t really care to, because he knows you’ve pretty much always been there. He has no idea where do his memories begin or end at, but the teary-doe look of your face has been plaguing the tissues of his brain for so long now he can’t find himself to remember a time where it hasn’t been there.

He remembers his first day at Jujutsu High, during the spring of him being fifteen and you a little less than that, when he saw you adverting everyone’s gaze as you walked behind your mother (an assistant director, of all things) towards the offices in silence—floral dress wrinkly as you seated in some chair and patiently waited for your mom to finish off her work. No complaints but with a huge pout, bored to death.

He remembers the first time Satoru made you cry by telling you you were a weak nuisance (and how he shortly laughed at that), and he remembers the sickening feeling of nausea that infected his stomach shortly after—and he remembers how it didn’t disappeared until he handed you a beverage from the machines and you smiled at him like none of them ever harmed you in the first place.

He remembers you admiring your mother’s ivory dress the day she married principal Yaga, and he remembers the way he took your hand into his to give you a little bit of courage as you and Satoru walked down the aisle side by side, carrying the rings of the newlyweds.

He remembers the winter of Satoru’s eighteenth birthday, when the white-haired man accidentally dropped a box full of the school’s Christmas decorations over you, making you trip down the stairs and hurt your ankle. He remembers the tears that stained his posh pajama pants when you shouted at him—immediately, instantly—crying out his name and seeking comfort. He also remembers the way Satoru moved around you like a lighting bolt, reaching and lifting you up in his arms before Suguru could arrive. Soothing sweet words into your ear, kissing your cheek as he darted a glare in his direction.

He remembers that they both shared the same thought at that moment, even though it was never vocalized.

He remembers how you have always made him feel this sick—as if you’re infesting his body and refusing to let him cure himself off you at all. He remembers because the feeling doesn’t really stops, never has, probably never will, and he has now grow a little too familiar with the lingering explosion of things that do make him feel alive bubbling in his chest. He’s now used to you setting his soul on fire and making him sick.

But it’s special, nonetheless. A sugary sweet method of inflicting pain—as Satoru likes to say.

Because Suguru Geto is not exactly a good person by his own perspective—but he likes to believe he’s a good man to both you and Satoru, for selfish that could be. The kind of man that puts your safety and well-being on top of anything else, the one that ensures both of your happiness above his own. He’s the type of man that allows some of his darkest desires to die in a fire, following what he believes is the right thing to do.

Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.

“Sugu?”

He can hear it clearly, so vivid and bright and sweet it makes him terribly sick all of a sudden. Singsong and gently voice, coated in saccharine sugar echoing through his ears as the most enthralling tone wraps around his name like a prayer, the deliberately long uttering of ‘Sugu’ forcing the curves of his lips to fall abruptly, his heart stopping without notice and an invisible punch to the guts knocking all the air out of his lungs.

“‘Toru, Daddy, where are you?”

Suguru waits—pretends he doesn’t really care as your footsteps sound closer, closer, closer, and his posture maintains, seemingly calm, apparently unbothered, somewhat bored. But, oh, Satoru knows.

Satoru knows as he sits by his side on the obsidian sectional sofa, with legs crossed and arms splayed over the border, that his best friend’s mind is going on a haze, a brand new sense of anxiety crawling under his skin like a thousand bugs eating him alive. Satoru’s almost certain, he’s sure that if he gets a little closer, the violent sounds of Suguru’s heart pounding in alarming violence against his ribs would cause him physical pain. It puts him on edge; the mere thought of his best friend’s reaction at what’s about to happen now.

If it were him, he wouldn’t care. He hadn’t care in the past, actually. Satoru has always been more than happy to let you near the side of him that glows closer to hell than heaven itself.

But Suguru is different, he thinks.

“She’s supposed to be sleeping,” Suguru stares at him blankly, a hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s long past midnight, and she gets all cranky in the morning every time she stays up,”

“She was sleeping,” Satoru stands up, a sigh sliding past his lips while moving to the bedroom door. “But you already know how she gets if she wakes up for water and is all alone in bed. She gets all needy,”

Suguru raises an eyebrow.

“And who’s fault is that, huh?”

“It’s not polite to finger-point, Suguru.”

Both of them stay silent for a bit, carefully paying attention to your sounds. Suguru tuts his tongue when he hears you calling his name near the bathroom hall.

“I’m too bloodied for her to see me like this,”

“Clearly. Just stay there, lemme—,” Satoru scoffs, opening the door and then closing it behind him swiftly before you can catch a glimpse of the inside. “Oi, sweets, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”

“But ‘Toru,” you complain in a hushed whine. “You left me alone, you know I don’t like that. It didn’t felt warm anymore,”

Suguru can’t see you—all he has is a muffled sound of your distorted voice, and he swears he knows exactly the way your lips are pushing the loveliest pout to ever exist, the way you’re looking at Satoru through sleepy eyelashes as you put your little complaint out.

And he also knows Satoru might have rolled his eyes playfully at the sight, pulling you closer to steal a kiss from your frowned lips.

“So needy, my baby is so needy,”

“Is Suguru not home yet?” you ask slowly, perhaps setting your groggy eyes into Satoru, staring at him with that enamored look they both know too well.

“Do you want Daddy?”

“Yeah, I do,” you snort.

“I’m your Daddy and I’m home, so,”

“I want both,” you giggle softly, so sweetly Suguru can feel his insides melt at the sound of your bubbling laugh.

He’s sure Satoru has you entangled in a hug, probably sneaking his hands all over your body and tickling your sides to pull a smile.

“Oh, your dumb Daddy, too. Alright. I dunno where he is, sweets,” Satoru states, as if.

“How mean, ‘Toru.”

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

“Mean. You’re lying to me.”

Suguru smirks at that. He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door to open it and find you both in the exact position he predicted.

And the look you shoot his way, the frown that forms in your face and your pretty features contract in sudden worry when his frame appears in front of you—it all has his heart pounding like crazy, he feels so loved, he feels so full of you. He feels insatiable.

“Oh,” you let out a little squeal as you shift from Satoru’s embrace and into his, “Sugu, you—”

“Don’t worry much about this, princess,” he mumbles, catching you inside his arms like the world depends on it. “I’m okay.”

But he’s sure you’re crying anyway.

And you don’t even stop to think about the blood. You don’t even care that he reeks of death and violence and Curses as you hold onto him for dear life, with arms that wrap tightly around him and pull him closer, closer, even closer; as lips caress the skin of his neck and little mewls echoe softly against his throat. Pants of I love you, I don’t want anything bad happening to you, I love you, fueling his mind like a bomb ready to launch.

Satoru laughs it off with a devious smile.

“Poor baby, you have her worried sick, Suguru,” he falsely chides. “Guess you gotta make it up to her.”

“Uh-huh,” Suguru nods. “My poor princess, do you want Daddy to make it alright?”

You nod in between heavy breaths, head still buried in his neck. Satoru gives a soft slap to your ass whimsically.

“So needy,” the Strongest murmurs, but he rapidly turns away and aims for the stairs. “I’m gonna go find a snack though, I’m starving. And then I’m gonna prepare a bath so you both can meet me there in a bit,”

Suguru nods.

“Go on. Let me take this princess to bed in the mean time, then we meet you in the bathtub,”

Suguru takes you to his large bed and places you in the middle of many soft pillows cooing in your ear to wash the concern out of you, but you’re reluctant. You cup his face and scan him looking for wounds, soon realizing the ugly streaks of scarlet that stain his face are, in fact, not his. But even then you don’t flinch. Instead, you let your hands wander all over his chest—desperate to pull him into you, to merge your bodies and never letting him go, never separated.

“Oh?” Suguru smiles at your scattered words. There’s still blinks of sleep tugging at your tired eyes, and he can’t help but fondle your face cautiously. “Are we merging with Satoru too, hm?”

You nod, sulky little look fighting sleepiness with all you got.

“Of course, Daddy, always with ‘Toru,”

“That’s right, princess. Always with Satoru,”

You inhale a deep breath. It’s easy for Suguru to notice every little thing about you, so he caught up on your train of thoughts before yourself. You were struggling with some words, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, thinking hard about something.

“What is it, baby?” He wonders carefully, hot breath colliding with your face, nose caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he inhales your scent.

“Did you do a bad thing, Sugu?”

The question lingers on his brain for a few seconds, mind resisting on reflecting such thoughts. Yet his expression doesn’t change, he maintains serenity as the brush of skin above yours doesn’t stop. He holds you like a priced possession, like your mere existence could ever absolve the decaying all Sorcerers are damned to. Like you could kiss him and save him, like you could hug him and guard him—as if you could turn blood into holy water or death into salvation.

Maybe you can.

“Will you still love me if I did?” He asks, not dreading the answer.

“I will never stop loving you, Daddy,”

It ignites his body. Fire burns at his fists and he kisses you deeply, mouths meeting around a new heat, with tongues slipping and teeth clashing desperately. He has no intention of letting you catch a break, mouth falling to your neck where he bites at the sensitive skin and causes you to mewl.

“Ow, Suguru, that’s mean,” you grumble, but you part your bare legs anyway when his hands drop and brush at your thighs.

“Can’t help it, princess,” he press a chaste kiss to your lips once more. “You gonna let me play a little with this pretty pussy, yeah?” The words flee his throat in a raspy tone, and his hands don’t stop. He hikes up that oversized cashmere sweater, that can only belong to Satoru, barely above the line of your lacey black panties, enough for him graze it and get a glimpse of your puffy lips against the fabric, awaiting for him. Suguru traces a finger along your cunt, causing you to shiver at the cold digits. “How gorgeous,”

You pant. “But—The bath, Sugu,”

“He can wait a little,” he says into your mouth “Gonna make you feel really good, princess,” he breathes heavily, rocking his hip a little as a thumb strikes tenderly your cunt through your panties.

And he notices right away—in the way you shiver under his touch when he hovers completely above you, how a breathless sigh escapes past your parted lips and your fists grab a handful of his shoulders to attach yourself onto him and make his bulge nudge your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, mouth leaving stray kisses in your neck and already throbbing cock humping your covered pussy through his pants.

“Sugu,” you whine at one particularly hard thrust of his hips, involuntary loud moan reverberating from the back of your throat. “‘Toru,”

“Shh, princess,”

Suguru is fast at parting your panties to the side, and he says there’s no need for prepping you tonight, says it’s gonna be real quick so you can both go back to Satoru—with his cock an angry shade of red as its released free from his trousers and it aims for your tiny hole fast, thrusting in one go. You’re whimpering at how fast it happens, cunt burning at the sudden intrusion since he is usually the one that takes his time to properly prep you to take his cock.

You guess he’s feeling off, so you happily comply if that’ll help him.

“Want you, Sugu, I need you,”

“Ah-ah, my good girl,” he grunts lightly, hands steadying you by the ass as he finally bottoms out. “Can you keep doing that for me? Can you be a good girl?”

A loud hiss vibrates through clenched teeth as you wrap your legs around his hips, head nodding many forms of yes as you inch closer to him in distress.

“That’s it baby, take it pretty,”

“H-Hurts a little, Sugu,” you murmur softly, eyes glued to where he’s slowly sliding in and out.

“I know princess,” he pants. “Give it a minute,” He’s practically caging you shortly after, thrusting up roughly as stretched out walls wrap him and suck him deeply. You’re not given a chance to recover or adjust properly, but the burning does start to fade away. Discomfort grows into pleasure and whimpers turn into soft moans as you bury your face on his neck and his hot breath collides sharply against the shell of your ear. “You’re so brave, my good girl. So pretty, my princess,”

You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, dainty fingers digging the flesh of his shoulders when he grunts. And it doesn’t take long for tears to collect in your eyes as heat floods your body once again, the familiar throb of your clit making you aggravate the hump of your hips so your swollen bud finds a little bit of friction. Suguru doesn’t fail to turn you into a needy mess, strong hand coming to cover the cries emitting from your mouth.

Muffled chants of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, alongside his hoarse grunts and the lewd slap of skin against skin are the only sounds that fly the room when he cums—bruising fingers grasping your flesh harshly as he paints your walls white, and nearly immediately you’re creaming all over the tip of his sensitive cock firmly pressed against your cervix.

“Not leaving you baby,” he pants out. “Not leaving you at all.”

[uranometrias]

don't forget to kiss me, jennifer jareau x fem! reader

★☆

▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

summary: in which jj has been into you for as long as she can remember. from your first day on the team she'd found herself utterly enraptured. she had partially assumed her adoration for you was merely a result of your personality, and the fact you were closest in age. seven years later, and she finds that her feelings towards you are a bit more complicated than she thought. which is why you being angry with her is even more gut-wrenching. pairing: jennifer jareau! x bau! female reader category: angst, unresolved content warnings: violence (reader smacks jj) love confessions. jj is kind of... self-destructively in love with you... you're disastrously oblivious + could potentially be unaware of your own feelings for jj. this is my first time writing for her, so fingers crossed her characterization lines up w/ canon. if not ? sue me :( author's note. this is my first time writing for jj, im so nervous about it. this can be read as an alternate universe for “you’re still a traitor” it picks up about a month or so after the court proceedings and reader has been ignoring jj , so she shows up at her house! idk why when writing for criminal minds, i always write jj with underlying feelings for reader… maybe because i actually like her a lot more than i initially thought (I’ve been a jj hater for years so this is a little jarring ) kinda spurred on by glue song xx unhappy ending, but room for a part 2

You hadn't been expecting any company, so when you heard a faint knock at the front door of your apartment, you were a bit confused. You were wearing a tank and boy-shorts, the weather in Quantico picking up to unbearable temperatures. It was impossible to focus with too many layers, and you supposed your choice in loungewear was a major sign that you were off duty. After the week you'd had, you'd become a bit of a recluse. Maybe "a bit" was underselling it.

You had wanted to be excited, happy, relieved even, that Emily was back. The team could be whole again, but your anxiety hadn't allowed you to. Instead, you'd found yourself feeling betrayed, angry, hurt. You lashed out at everyone, you didn't want to be bothered. You got to work earlier so that you could be the first to leave when evening came. When you were out on a case, you stayed glued to Rossi, Derek or Spencer. You couldn't meet the eye of the others.

Hotch, who had one point been your favorite person on the team, was now someone you avoided. There was some saying out there about 'never meeting your heroes', you felt that with this life changing reunion this quote had managed to sum up your life. You'd held him to such high regard, and had never expected him to lie to you. But he had, he'd done it without pause. And somehow he'd felt like the only person he needed to share this with was JJ.

That stung a little bit more. JJ was supposed to be your best friend. Even while she'd been gone, away working at the Pentagon, she'd been your rock. You couldn't count on your fingers and toes the amount of nights you'd spent crying your eyes out over the perceived loss while JJ combed her fingers through your hair and promised that 'everything would be alright.' In the grand scheme of things you assumed this eventual end was what she'd meant by that.

She had expected you to be okay. They had expected things to be normal, but they couldn't. After you'd been called into court to talk about the way things went down you'd become more of a ghost around the office. You had transfer papers hidden at your desk, and a ticking clock in the back of your mind. Maybe you were going overboard, being childish and stubborn, but you couldn't find it in you to care. How could you be on a team with people who lied.

After everything you'd seen, everything you'd been through together, they'd still chosen to lie. They'd kept you in the dark, because they thought they knew what was best for you. How were they any different from the higher ups that were constantly making decisions that put the entire team at risk? They weren't, and that's what sucked. You remembered when you'd confronted them with your feelings, they'd tried to pacify you with reminders of Emily's safety.

Somehow the fact that in their heads your grief was of little concern in comparison to Emily hurt the worst. You couldn't seem to understand the secrecy... especially since in the end, Emily wouldn't have managed to take down Doyle for good without you all. It felt like a waste of time, and when you'd placed your paperwork for a leave of absence on Hotch's desk, he hadn't had the guts to say anything. No one had said a word, they'd let you leave.

If it had been anyone else the calvary would've been out, but here you were on day ten of the longest break you'd had since you'd joined the bureau, and the only thing you had that proved you were missed were your unopened text messages from Penelope and Spencer. Penelope had been relaying messages for both her and Derek. Spencer had made you promise not to quit without saying goodbye. You knew how important it was to him, so if it came down to it, you'd give him that.

Still, your unwelcomed guest has grown impatient. They tap against your door a bit more impatiently, and you're climbing off your couch. Your slippers squeak with every step, and it's a bit funny, lightens your mood just barely. This hardly lasts, because the second you're swinging the door open your mood is dropping. Jennifer Jareau stands before you, looking more worse for wear than you'd seen her. She looks relieved when your eyes connect, you suddenly feel faint.

"Y/N." she always has this way of saying your name, like she's learning how to breathe for the first time, and before it was a symbol of your bond. "I'm sorry to show up like this, I didn't think you'd answer if I tried to call you." she admits, and you don't know how you look. You can't tell if she's receiving a bitter glare or something of the sort. All you know is how you feel. You feel like you're suffocating, like it's suddenly too hot. You feel like your clothes are too tight.

JJ is the one doing this to you. You're certain that's why you take a step backwards. She hasn't been at the profiling game long enough to mask the way you'd outrightly rejected her. "Why are you here?" you demand, and she crinkles her nose, almost like she's trying to keep from sneezing or something along the same lines. She honestly hadn't thought much of what she'd say. It had been almost two weeks since anyone had seen you, and she was going crazy.

"I just-" she exhales shakily, and you're about two seconds away from slamming the door in her face. "I wanted to see you." she admits, and you're unfazed, and visibly unimpressed. She'd waited almost two weeks, you were happy her guilt was eating her up. "No one's heard anything from you.... I just wanted to make sure that you were alright." she adds, and you take note of how she shuffles from foot to foot, nervous eyes jumping from one side of your face to the other.

She looks so unlike herself, not quite as bold and confident as you were used to. It's off putting, more than that though, it's a little suspicious all things considered.

"I'm fine." you insist, and you don't try to take some of the sharpness from your words. JJ's blue eyes are swimming with more emotions than you care to count in the moment. They're glassy, surrounded in dark circles and bags, she hadn't been sleeping. You hoped that wasn't on account of you, because in your current position you couldn't afford to be moved by her guilt. "And that could've been a text." you admit, and JJ winces. The drive from her place to yours was well over thirty minutes. She'd wasted her time.

"Are you going to hate me forever?" she asks, and you're at least offered the peace that comes with not finding anger in her tone. You were happy that at least she wouldn't be trying to make you feel bad for being angry. You don't know how to respond, because you honestly didn't know. You didn't know why you were so torn up about this, but you were. You couldn't look at her and pretend everything was okay, you couldn't go back to how things were before.

"Maybe." you mumble under your breath, and JJ looks so crushed. That manages to tug at your heart strings, you'd always been weak.

JJ's suddenly shuffling, digging through her bag. "Is that why you never said anything?" she asks, and she's holding your completed transfer application out towards you. It takes a moment for it to register, and you want to cower behind your door. Her gaze is so sharp, so crystalline like she was looking right through you. "Y/N..." and she says your name like she's the one who's been betrayed.

"You went through my stuff?" you counter, veering the subject off of your decision, and putting the focus back on her. "Bad way to go about regaining trust there, Jennifer." you say, and she flinches. You'd known one another for years, and you'd never called her Jennifer. You'd been calling her Jaige since you first became friends, what she wouldn't give to hear you call her that now. "I don't owe you an explanation." you add crossly, snatching the paperwork from her.

"Maybe not, but you owe it to Hotch." she argues like the know-it-all and little kiss ass that she's always been. "You owe it to the rest of the team." she adds a bit more gruffly, and you want to laugh at the hypocrisy. "You can't just spring this on them blind. If you're gonna run away at least have the guts to own up to it." she lectures, and you want to hit her, maybe grab her by her throat and shake her from side to side. "Instead of hiding out in your house like a child."

She gasps when you hit her, you think that you gasp too. You can't tell though, not with all the blood rushing to your head. You feel like your ears are clogged, and your eyes are wide, surprised at yourself. JJ's head is cocked to the side, cheek reddening as she gingerly clutches it. "JJ." and she supposes it's sort of a win. You weren't calling her Jennifer or Agent Jareau anymore. But her face stings, and it's starting to throb, and she thinks that she may burst into tears.

"It's okay." she says, because it kind of is. She was stupid in that way, willing to do whatever it took to get you back. Even at her own self destruction, and she supposed that's why she'd waited almost fourteen days to come see you. "Y/N/N, hey, it's okay..." she promises, and now it's your turn to feel guilty. There's this knot in your gut that pinches and twists and tightens. It steals your breath and makes you want to run and hide in your bedroom.

"I'm so sorry." You sputter, and your eyes are stuck wide open.

It's a good sign that you can apologize. Lucky you, you weren't as numb as you thought. JJ was still in your heart, maybe that meant Hotch and Emily were too. "I didn't mean to-" and you reach out for her, fingers ghosting just barely over where her cheek was starting to welt. You retract your hand at the last second though, you hadn't expected to actually hit her. "JJ, I'm so sorry." you reiterate, shuffling backwards, mostly so she doesn't touch you.

"It's okay." and you think maybe her ability to forgive you so easily is partially why you snap the way you do.

"No it's not!" you exclaim. "Nothing about this is okay, JJ." she jumps a bit at your tone, eyes flitting down the hallway. It was still vacant for now, which was good. "And just because you choose to forgive me quickly does not mean, I'm obligated to get over this now." you remind her as she pouts at you. She didn't understand why you were choosing not to forgive her. It didn't make any sense, it wasn't like she'd intentionally tried to hurt you. She hadn't had a choice.

"That's not fair." she exclaims, and now it's her turn to get aggravated.

"No, it isn't." you agree. "But, guess what JJ, it's my choice." the reminder makes JJ's face sour. Her heart though chooses

"I don't have to forgive you, especially when you haven't even actually told me why you're sorry. I don't want some apology that's just a means to keep you from feeling guilty about the fact that you fucked up, and you betrayed me." and it certainly sounds melodramatic. JJ's eyes are instantly rolling, and you feel a bit bad for your neighbors.

"You're treating this like it was some personal vindictive decision we decided to make." she counters. "It wasn't about you." she reiterates. "It wasn't about any of us." her voice raises just slightly. "It was about Emily." she sneers, "Do you remember her? Our friend." she emphasizes. "We did what we thought was best, Emily wasn't safe as long as Doyle was on the run, we wanted to minimize any chance of an attack." JJ proceeds. "We did what we had to for her." she adds.

"Don't you think we would've understood? We're supposed to be a family, JJ." you shoot back, and JJ's letting out an agitated sigh.

"We are a family."

"Give me a break." you're checked out of the conversation now, and you wonder how quickly you can shut the door in her face.

"What are you actually angry with me about, Y/N?" JJ presses. "I saw you that first day

You're telling me you're willing to throw away all your years at the bureau, all your years on this team, because of a decision that was out of our control?" she says, and she looks so disgusted at the thought. Maybe she was, it felt like the cowardly thing to do. Run away with your tail tucked between your legs instead of owning up to your feelings.

"I trusted you, JJ." you shout. "There's nothing deeper beneath the surface then that." JJ's eyes widen a bit at your outburst. "You watched me grieve for seven months. All while you got to sleep peacefully at night, because you knew the whole time that you hadn't really lost your friend. To you there was always an end to this, a day where Emily would be back, so not being able to see her for a little while doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things." you add.

"Y/N..." she begins and you shake your head.

"I think you should leave, I don't know why you came here." you mumble, and your hands on the door, ready to shut it in her face.

"Because I hate this." she answers sternly, voice raising just slightly. "And I'm tired of pretending that I don't." she emphasizes as your mood seems to worsen. "I-" she takes in a sharp breath. "I miss you, okay?" she exclaims. "I just want you to hear me out... for one second, and then I'll back off." she insists. "I'll leave you alone, and I'll accept that you'll never forgive me, but just... give me the chance to explain." you don't like to see JJ begging. It seems wildly out of character.

You think that's why you give her the chance. You nod your head stiffly, and she visibly relaxes, exhaling a shuddered breath.

"You have-" and her hands curl up into tight fists. "You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you." she exclaims, and you don't hold back with the visibly unimpressed look that crosses your face. "It's true." she deadpans forcibly. "And I know you can take care of yourself, you've been doing this profiling thing a lot longer than I have... but I couldn't rationalize putting you in harm's way, okay? I was trying to protect you." she explains, and she sounds desperate.

"I didn't ask you to do that." you shoot back instantly.

"That's the point, you never have to ask me." she cuts you off abruptly. "You'd never have to ask me to take care of you." and you note the way her turn-of-phrase has changed just slightly. "It's not something that I even have to think about doing, I just do it." she proceeds, and you blink a bit harshly, hand immediately moving to drag against your eye. You're sure on the outside it makes you look even more disengaged from the conversation.

You are listening though.

"I have known you for seven years-" her voice cracks, words slurring just slightly as she nervously gestures with her hands. Her eyes are glassy, but she still hasn't cried, you think that's just a part of who JJ is. Strong emotionally, unable to really let herself feel anything, she never wanted to look weak. You'd never expected such a front with you, even now when you were at odds, but here you were. "And-" she chokes on a breath, and none of your profiling skills seem to allow you to read between the lines. She would just have to spell it out.

She grows more anxious the longer you stare at her with an dry sort of expression. "And I've loved you for all seven of them." she finally blurts it out, and you feel it when a shiver snakes its way down your spine. "I just kept thinking about Doyle, and what he was capable of-" she proceeds to jump right over the confession. "I don't know how to be normal about you..." and it's lighthearted, it makes your lips twitch just slightly. "You're my best friend." she continues.

"And sometimes I just can't- I can't think straight... I go into this place where the only thing that ever matters is-" and her eyes widen just slightly before she's backpedaling. "I want to keep you safe, always." she insists. "You're my priority, you always have been, and I don't know what it'll take for you to trust me again, but I'm asking you to remember who I've always been to you, okay?" and her words are starting to lump together as she begins to speak much quicker.

You resist the urge to place a hand on her shoulder.

"And-and I just want you to ask yourself if I would ever do anything to hurt you deliberately." and you know, of course that she wouldn't. She hadn't. "Because I know that hurting you is the last thing I'd ever want to do. You purse your lips some, body leaning sideways as you press against the doorframe. You had a lot of thoughts swirling around your head, and many a feeling revving up in your chest. "I'm not good at this stuff." she admits, and of course you know that as well.

"But I'm asking you to let me make it up to you, I'm asking you to forgive me, and to believe that I only did what I did, because I was scared that you finding out about Emily would leave you open to danger." she pries. "I didn't think I had many options..." and her arms swing out, palms smacking against her thighs. She takes a breath that makes her chest heave. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, Y/N/N. I am so sorry." and she's trying to slow down her heartbeat.

Silence befalls the hallway immediately after, all you can really hear is JJ's booming heartbeat. She looks a bit crestfallen, and her face crumples up in that way that lets you know she's definitely about to cry. Still, JJ was the strongest woman that you knew, and you knew that no matter what, she'd wait until she was alone before she ever let you see her cry. She breathes in deep, back straightening as she fixes her posture just slightly. "I understand." and she curls her nose.

"I'm sorry for showing up like this." and she gestures to the space in between you both. "It wont happen again." she says it like a promise. "Bye, Y/N." her voice has grown a tad more glum, but you think you love her more because she doesn't beg.

"Bye, Jaige." and her chest fluttering at the nickname is a huge betrayal. Still, she couldn't deny how strongly she felt for you, even as you were crushing her heart in your hands. She watches as you stand back upright, stepping back into your apartment before you gently let the door shut. She gasps when the lock slips into place, and it's then that she allows herself the moment to shed a tear.

────────────────────────

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Derek's beaming at you, pretty teeth almost glistening underneath the shabby bullpen lights. It had been two days since JJ had shown up at your house, two days that had given you ample opportunity to think and reel in all your emotions. You held two cups of coffee in your hands, you supposed it could count as a peace offering. A truce declaration if you needed to label it as something. The aroma was pleasant and definitely calming.

"You look good, sweetheart." and there's no flirting beneath his words. He genuinely looks pleased with the fact, and you're grateful.

Derek Morgan was as sweet a friend as any, and despite his macho-manly outer shell, he'd treated you like kin from the day you started in the unit. He didn't smother you or hover over you, he let you be exactly who you were, but never failed to watch your back.

"I feel good." you admit, and you let out a quiet breath. "I'm glad to be back." you add a second after, and you're placing your coffees down long enough to wrap him a hug. It's needed, the comfort of your big brother, who's immediately scooping you into his arms. He squeezes like he's worried you'll disappear the second he lets you go, and you can only imagine that word had spread about your desire to step down from the unit. "I missed you, Der." you admit with a quiet huff, and Derek bends his chin to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"And I missed you, but I'm glad that you got what you needed." he then leans back, arms resting on your shoulders. "You did get all that you needed, didn't you?" he questions, and your head nods. "Good. This place isn't the same without you, and it'll do it some good to have you back." he purses his lips, because he's serious, but the desire to grin is still so prevalent. "Make sure you go see Garcia, she'll have a conniption and kick both our asses if she finds out you're making rounds, and I didn't tell her." he says, and you grin.

"That's my next stop, I just need to give something to JJ." you say quietly, and Derek's got this know-it-all expression on his face.

"Certainly not that coffee you've placed on my desk?" he asks, and you let out a quiet giggle. "Because once it hits my desk, it's finder's property." he teases as your eyes roll. "You know that." and he's mainly joking, and you appreciate it. It reminds you so much of how things were before, it takes away all the first-day-back jitters you'd been dealing with since you'd woken up and decided you were coming back. Derek always seemed to know exactly what to do.

"You didn't find anything, smart guy." you huff. "But, since I love you so much, why don't you just take this one." and you gift him the one that was originally meant for you. "Taste and be astonished, sir." and he takes the scalding paper cup from your hand, and brings it up to his nose to take in a sniff of the cinnamony beverage. "Just taste it." you huff, and he chuckles, free hand raising in surrender, as he brings it up to his mouth. The first sip like clockwork has him groaning.

You didn't consider yourself a caffeine connoisseur for nothing.

"You are an angel." he compliments, and you glow.

"I aim to please." you retort with a wink, and you look around the bullpen in search of the blonde profiler. "Have you seen Jaige?" you ask as Derek's head nods, taking another indulgent sip of the drink he'd manifested.

"She might be in with Hotch." he shrugs. "I told you things were different without you, little bit." and you resist the urge to frown. "He'll want to know you're back anyway though, right?" he continues, and you're immediately nodding your head in agreement.

"I guess you're right." you hum.

"I'm always right."

"Just shut up and drink your coffee." with that you're grasping the other cup in your hand, ignoring the way Derek's chuckle chases after you. You're not quite sure you're ready to face your boss, and despite how vacant the bullpen remained (and you were nearly forty minutes early), you knew eventually you'd have to face Emily too. You wondered if there was still time to change your mind and go back home. You don't have the time to decide either way, because the second you've climbed the ramp, you're met with the sight of Dave.

"The prodigal daughter's returned." he expresses, hands extended out as if he hoped you would hug him. Your face feels a bit warm, but you're ecstatic as you take the four short steps towards him. You use one hand to loop it around his side, head leaning against his shoulder as he hugs you just as tightly as Derek had. "I'm glad that you're back." he says, and there's this undertone that often lied beneath Rossi's words. "Everyone will be." he seems to finish his thought directly after, and you're hopeful that the same can be said for you.

"I hope so." you admit, and you offer a small smile. "How have you been?" you question politely, not really sure how to go about getting your groove back.

"I've been good." he replies with a content sort of smile. "The bad guys don't ever seem to stop, but I'm good." he answers and you grimace just slightly. "I'm much more interested to know how you are though." he expresses, before he raises an eyebrow. "JJ came back to work with some very interesting news about your future here at the bureau." he says, and he lowers his voice, which you think is indicative of something. Maybe that she hadn't blabbed to the entire team, and instead had only mentioned it to Dave.

"That sounds like JJ." you reply with a huff. "I'm good, I'm back... I think that's what matters most, isn't it?" you question and Dave scrutinizes you for a moment, but nods.

"Yes, I'd agree." he replies, and you relax a bit. "Thirsty?" he looks down at the cup in your hand, and you blanche.

"Uh-" you look towards Hotch's door. "It's for JJ... Derek said he thinks she's in with Hotch." and you nod your head towards it. Dave offers you a contemplative sort of look, you don't understand why. He then gives you a small smile, almost one of understanding.

"Then I won't hold you any longer," he promises, and you relax. "I'm glad you're back, Y/N." Dave finishes, and you beam, feeling a bit better about your decision. He leaves you with that, heading back into his office, as you take the few short steps from his office to Hotch's. It seems like things are working in your favor, the second you're raising an arm to knock, the door is swinging open. You're met with the sight of blue-eyed JJ looking back at you and you gasp.

You instinctively take a small step backwards, as she stares at you in surprise. "Y/N/N?" she questions, and that seems to garner Hotch's attention. The older man's focus being drawn towards the door as well. "What are you doing here?" JJ asks, and your mouth feels incredibly dry. All you can really do is push your hand forward, cup of coffee resting against JJ's chest. She's quick to look down at the beverage that was steadily cooling.

It takes her a second to garner the focus to grasp it in her hand, fingers brushing against yours. "Good morning." you slur out, and then you're motioning to the coffee in her hand. "This is for you." you proceed, and JJ's eyes are back on the cup, perfect brows pushing together. "C-Can we talk?" you shift from one foot to the other, not quite nervous, but definitely apprehensive and unsure. "Just for a second?" you question, and she's opening her mouth to respond.

"Uh, Y/N." it's Hotch's voice that pulls you both from what could have been a moment. "Can I see you for a moment?" he questions, and JJ's bottom lip is disappearing, front teeth just lightly pressing into it as you both realize that you don't have time to unpack the last conversation you'd had. You nod your head slightly, walls as high as the ceiling as the air around the both of you seems to grow frigid. You don't look at her, and she finds herself more confused than ever.

You step into Hotch's office, and let the door click shut behind you. JJ holds the cup of coffee in her hand, and her mind reels. Was this it? Were you here to step down? Were you about to make the choice that would change the unit's trajectory forever? She doesn't want to wait around to find out, instead she's being pulled towards Emily, who's walking through the elevator with Spencer on her heels.

"Oh, hey! Is that for me?" Emily's teasing, hand held out for the coffee that JJ feels the need to tighten her grip on.

"Uh, no." she denies sternly. "This is-" and she looks down at it, takes in the way the side is scribbled over with that nickname you'd created just for her. 'Jaige', there was no heart, no other note that would be indicative of what your motives were. But the 'Jaige' said a lot, maybe you had started to forgive her, maybe her words had actually meant something. Even if she'd poured her heart out, and you'd stared back at her like it meant nothing. She ignores that last part though.

Maybe she does it because she's secretly a masochist.

Maybe she thinks she deserves it.

"Y/N got this for me." she finally says it, and Emily's eyes are shocked. Spencer, who was gearing up to offer a greeting seems to stop in his tracks at the mention of you. "Yeah, she showed up this morning... and she gave me this." JJ explains, her eyes turning towards the shadowy, looming, darkness that seemed to sit outside Hotch's office as the two of you discussed God knows what. "She's here." she breathes this out, and Emily's head is tipped a bit to the side.

"That a good thing, isn't it?" she treads lightly and slowly. Gauging JJ's reactions, she couldn't deny her slight annoyance towards you. JJ hadn't been shy about her guilt, about the feelings she harbored that you had so eloquently ignored. She knew that you were handling things in your own time, but JJ deserved better than that, right? She didn't deserve to be blamed for something like this.

"I guess we'll see." JJ retorts, lips pursing together.

"Y/N is here?" Spencer questions, eyes still wide and bright, clearly unfazed by the inner turmoil JJ was currently dealing with.

"Yeah, she's in with Hotch." JJ replies as Spencer's face seems to glow, a newfound vigor to his look as he smiles slightly. Spencer says something about going to see Penelope before he takes his leave, JJ and Emily suddenly left alone. JJ heaves, hand clenching around the cup for a moment. It's warmth was far from blistering, but it would still be hot enough to wake her up a bit. For some reason though she's not so keen on drinking it anymore.

"Hey, are you okay?" Emily questions and JJ nods her head. "You know you can always tell me if you aren't." the raven haired woman adds a moment later. "I know things between you have been kind of weird, and that's partially my fault-" JJ's immediately holding a hand up to cut Emily's rant short.

"It wasn't your fault." she deadpans. "I chose to keep it a secret. I did it because I understood the importance of discretion, even if she can't." and she's a bit exasperated, mostly just tired of all of it. "I'll be in my office." and then she's taking her leave, grateful for the fact that despite her year away at the pentagon, she was lucky enough to come back to her own space, instead of being delegated to the open space of the bullpen with the rest of the team.

When she reaches her office, she sets the coffee cup down, moving to sit in her chair as she prepared to start her day. She hardly has the chance to get comfortable, because she's quickly getting a notification from her cellphone with a message from Penelope asking her to come to her lair. She huffs, feeling the early beginnings of a migraine forming. This time when she grabs hold of the coffee cup it's to toss it into the trashcan on her way back out the door.

────────────────────────

"Hey." you look up, a bit surprised to be getting approached by Emily. She looks a bit contemplative, but polite, sweet as always. After your long talk with Hotch, you'd been trying your best to get back into the swing of things. There hadn't been a call for a case, so instead everyone was catching up on paperwork. You'd been immediately cornered by Spencer, who was visibly overjoyed to see that you were back at work. He'd even surprised you with a hug that managed to be surprisingly mood lifting. But you hadn't run into Emily.

You also hadn't managed to run into JJ either.

"Oh, hey." you say, and you think back on Hotch's words, about the severity of Emily's case. He'd even tried to school you a bit on the real nature of Doyle's crimes, you supposed that was his way of expressing just how pertinent it had been to keep Emily safe. You tap your nails against your desk. "What can I do for you?" and it's a bit formal, but it's still taking some getting used to, being this close to Emily, who nearly eight months ago you'd believed to be dead.

"Nothing." she replies, "I just wanted to know if I could talk to you?" and she looks a bit hopeful, but you also know Emily was a thinker, you wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if she had premeditated this whole conversation. "It will only take a second." she adds as if recognizing the discomfort on your face.

"Uh, yeah... sure." you agree, albeit reluctantly. You knew full well the unit would not be able to function with you choosing to behave like a brat. You'd made the choice to come back, which meant that moving forward with every member of the team was important. You move to stand up, and Emily's holding a hand out to stop you.

"No, please." she gestures back to your seat. "Sit." she instructs, and you listen, dropping back into your office chair. "Look, we're all real happy that you're back." she begins, and you feel a bit awkward. Mostly because it's all you've been hearing all day, similar sentiments from all the current members of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Derek, Hotch, Spencer, Penelope, Rossi, and now Emily. It served to only make you feel more guilty for seemingly throwing the world's biggest tantrum over the last four weeks.

"Thanks, Em." you reply, and she offers you a ghost of a smile.

"I don't know how long it'll take for things to feel normal again for you, and I know this is... absolutely a crazy situation." she pushes her lips to the side as she finishes this, "All I ask is that whenever you're feeling a little too... overwhelmed or it starts becoming too much for you again that you tell us." she propositions. "It's like Garcia always says right? This team works best because we're a family. We trust one another... we've got no other choice, right?" and Emily pauses, seemingly giving you the chance to input with your own opinion.

"Yeah." you agree, and she visibly relaxes.

"JJ's a really great girl by the way." she says, and your eyebrows jump up. "And she cares about you a lot. Too much I think." Emily continues, and you shuffle a bit in your seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Cut her a bit of slack, okay? Don't punish her too badly for this." she instructs you, and your face ticks, you're unsure if you're going to frown or scowl.

"I wouldn't." you insist, and Emily offers you a look that you know says she doesn't quite believe you. "And I don't really need you trying to give me the protective friend speech." you add a bit unimpressed.

"I'm not trying to lecture you." Emily counters, and you cut your eyes at her.

"So then don't." you huff. "I've got a lot of work to do... so if there's nothing else." and you turn your head back to your files, face screwed up at her. Emily scoffs, letting out one of those huffed laughs that escape from your nose. It makes you look back up at her, eyes narrowed as you offer her a look that said something that was quite frankly not appropriate for work. "What?" you snap.

"You're being unreasonable." she deadpans, and you think that's part of the appeal of your bond with Emily. You'd both always had the liberty to say what you felt to one another, no holds barred. "And you're being unfair. JJ told me what happened, okay? How many times are you gonna make her apologize? And how long are you going to hold it over her head? I know that we hurt you, but you can't use that as your excuse to keep treating us like we're dispensable."

Your jaw drops at the accusation, "I'm not doing that. I'm not the one that keeps trying to push the damn envelope. I left to regroup, and the only reason I came back was because JJ was the only person that had the guts to apologize and to-to be honest with me. I would never use my feelings about the situation as some rouse to get my way, I'm not a child, and I don't appreciate you insinuating that I'm that unprofessional." and you admit, it's getting a little tense.

Derek's eyes haven't left you since Emily walked up, and you know it's not because he's looking for gossip. It's because he knows if the two of you go at it, you could both potentially say something that would hurt each other. But he also supposed it all had to come out eventually, Spencer's seemed to disassociate. His eyes haven't left his book, even as your voice picks up a bit of volume. Lucky kid.

"She told you that she was in love with you, and you shut the door in her face." Emily exclaims, and she's stern, but also certain to lower her voice. JJ wasn't subtle about her feelings for you, but that didn't mean she wanted it as something for the Unit to talk about. Emily watches as your face screws up, clear confusion swirling in your eyes as you shake your head involuntarily.

"Emily, what the hell are you talking about?" you demand, and Emily's face ticks.

"The other day..." she begins, and she's blinking rapidly, her own confusion starting to catch up to her. "When she went to see you?" Emily trails off, and your face pinches up even more, like you had no idea what she was talking about. "When she-" and she trails off.

"No. No she didn't." you deny. "She told me that she loved me, yeah... but JJ always tells me that, and it certainly wasn't like she was confessing secret feelings for me." you deadpan. "She told me why she lied, and she asked me to think about it, and see if I could forgive her. I did, I thought about it, and that's why I showed up today..." you continue, and there's no malice behind your words, it's only that same confusion from before. "Why would you think she was in love with me, Emily?" you press, and your head tips to the side a bit.

"I-" and she's floundering. JJ had made it so clear to her, she'd been so devasted by what happened. How she'd put her heart out there for you, and received absolutely nothing back. But looking at you now, there were no signs of deception, nothing that would prove that you'd willingly ignored a love confession. "I think you should talk to JJ." she retreats, suddenly feeling like she was majorly overstepping. Her annoyance towards your behavior disappears instantly.

This was all a misunderstanding, and you were painfully oblivious.

"Emily?" your confusion triples, watching as the raven haired woman takes off, ignoring the call of your name and serving to put you in a more sour mood. Your foot taps against the ground for a moment, looking over your shoulder at the only person in the unit besides you that could be considered exceptionally close to JJ. "Hey, Spence?" you call, and he's looking up at you instantly. You wave him over, and watch as he puts his bookmark in his book before standing up.

He passes Derek, who's settled back into his own work now that the tensions have declined. When he reaches your desk, you're reaching over to pull another swivel chair up beside you. He takes the hint, sitting down in the seat as you put on your best pleading face, it may have been a bit unethical, but damn it all, if you weren't confused now. "Can I ask you a question?" you plead, and Spencer's new haircut is cute, it fits him, makes him look more like the grown man he is, and not the little kid he'd been dubbed as by the rest of the team.

"You sort of just did." he tells you and you exhale, not out of annoyance though. It's humorous the way you walked right into that one. He's beaming at you, proud of it all, before he clears his throat, using a hand to gesture for you to continue with your real question.

"Do you have any idea why Emily would think that JJ was in love with me?" you question, and the thought is stuck on repeat now that it'd been brought to your attention. You hadn't really taken her words from the other day as some indicator that she held deeper feelings towards you. You watch the way Spencer's eyes widen, before he sets his face, allowing it to rest in a more relaxed expression. He was about to deflect or lie, either way you'd already gotten your answer.

"I think everyone's entitled to their theories and hypotheses..." he offers, and you roll your eyes. "Emily might have noticed something about JJ that led her to that sort of... conclusion." he adds, and your head tips to the side. "But, the only person who'd really know is JJ. Why don't you just ask her?" he offers, and his lips push to the side, almost like he's worried it was the wrong thing to say. Classic Spence.

You lean forward and plant a kiss on his forehead, "Thanks, Spence, you're the best!" you mumble as you stand to your feet, making your way across the bullpen to find JJ's office. The walk is short, and soon enough you find yourself hovering outside of the cracked door. It was a sign that she was sitting inside. You didn't really know how to go about this, on the one hand if it was all a big misunderstanding that'd be a bit embarrassing. On the other hand though, how were you supposed to deal with the fact that your best friend was into you.

For so long the Unit had remained a safe haven from things like crossed boundaries and inappropriate relationships. Of course there were those that toed the line (You still believed that Spencer and Elle had fooled around in the weeks leading up to her departure) and others had crossed the line (Penelope and Derek) but things had never gotten so intense. There were no weddings, dates, children between any of you. You all understood the importance of separation. How could you manage and sustain a relationship like this?

How would things change if one day someone felt that they weren't getting enough? You all had at one point or another prioritized work over your social life, and you all had seen exactly what a life like that led to you. It led to divorce and breakups that only appeared civil, but were really irreconcilable beneath the surface. Still, you push that all to the back of your mind, hand reaching forward to knock on the door. You take a small step backwards, giving her a chance to answer.

"Come in." she calls, and you take a deep breath before you push the door open. JJ's eyes widen the second she takes you in, and you wonder whether or not this was your smartest idea. "Oh..." and she immediately stands up from her chair. "Hey, is everything okay?" she asks, and you're finally stepping inside, shutting the door behind you. It closes with a soft click, and the air suddenly feels charged.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to talk to you."

"Of course." she replies, "What's up?"

You think about starting off with a bit of small talk, hoping to ease into the obvious hard part with a bit of a buffer between you. You decide against it at the last minute. "The other night when you told me that you've... loved me for all seven years we've been friends, what exactly did you mean by that?" you pry, and JJ's face is immediately showing off her shock. Her eyes are wide, mouth dropping just slightly as she gaped at you.

"W-What?" she stammers, and you offer her a blank stare.

"It wasn't a difficult question, Jaige." you tell her and she doesn't really know how to respond. "Emily said-" and JJ's eyes are rolling, only because she couldn't believe that Emily had decided to confront you and turn it into an entire ordeal. You weren't obligated to reciprocate her feelings, and she really didn't need anyone fighting any battles for her, especially when she had already begun to make peace with moving on.

"Emily shouldn't have said anything to you, okay? After I left your house, I'll admit I was upset... but-" and she exhales, "You don't have to overcompensate for not feeling the same way by... bringing me coffee, and-and trying to relive that confession, okay? It's only going to hurt the both of us." she tells you sternly, and now it's your turn to be shocked. "It was really stupid of me to even mention it to you then, so we can just forget about it, okay? I'm happy you're back, but if that's it-" and then she's motioning to the door.

"JJ, I didn't know that you were confessing to me." you tell her. "Do you actually think I would've shut the door in your face if I did?"

"You know what? I actually don't know. I mean, the last few weeks we haven't exactly been seeing eye-to-eye." she reminds you, "And it's not like anytime during that conversation you ever gave me anything to work with." she reminds you. "You just did what you always do." she proceeds, and you scoff, growing offended.

"What I always do?" you hiss.

"Yeah, what you always do." she reiterates. "That thing you do where you pretend that nothing matters at all. Like you're just this impenetrable wall that feels nothing, isn't bothered, doesn't care." she says, and you're surprised to know that she thinks this about you. "Y/N, you're a profiler, isn't the whole point that you see the things other people don't?" she presses, "I mean, I don't know how much more clearer I can get. I told you that you were my priority, that doesn't exactly scream you're my best friend." JJ crosses her arms.

"We're not supposed to profile each other." you counter, and you think in a way this is you deflecting again. You didn't know what to say, you didn't even really know how you felt. She shoots you a dry look.

"Okay, Y/N, maybe we aren't." she says with a deep breath, and a tired expression on her face. "I don't really know what you want from me..." and you're taking a small step backwards,

"I'm just trying to understand-" and she's cutting you off instantly.

"There's nothing for you to understand." she snips, and your attitude towards JJ is back, your face screwed up.

"Okay then." you snap, and JJ seems to notice her mistake, her eyes instantly softening, but you both know that it's much too late now.

"Thank you for the coffee..." she gripes, almost like it hurts to say the words, "But I think maybe it's best if just for a little while, we give each other some space." she looks down at the ground. You blink, and you think you might burst into tears, your face and neck scalding hot.

"Is that what you want?" you question, and you ball your hands up into fists at your side.

"Yeah, it is." she agrees, though she doesn't mean it.

"Fine." and before she can really wrap her head around this decision, you're storming out of her office, allowing the door to slam shut behind you. It's childish really, but you can't find it in you to care. The excitement you'd felt that morning at the thought of reconciling with your friend was long gone. All that was left was the knowledge that JJ was supposedly in love with you, and the fact that you liked her a lot more before you found out.

[cooliestghouliest]

PUTTY, chapter one

(chapter one), (chapter two), (chapter three)

PAIRING: virgin!Eddie/former cheerleader!Reader

SUMMARY: Eddie has a little brother. Eddie’s little brother has a babysitter.

SERIES TAGS and C/W’s: mutual pining, experienced!Reader, inexperienced!Eddie but he’s eager to learn, mostly sub!Eddie, insecurities and self doubt, narcissistic and/or absent parents, jealousy, mean basketball players, hurt/comfort, they smoke weed, eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), uniform kink, dirty talk, foot jobs, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), public sex, sex toys, unprotected PiV. more to be added as this progresses!!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k+

A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. fun fact that this was one of the first Stranger Things fanfics i ever wrote. it was originally titled She Was Straight From Hell, But You Could Never Tell, and featured Eddie alongside an OC. i’ve changed it to be reader-insert, because that seems to be more in my writing wheelhouse nowadays. this fic will be multiple parts — it begins with backstory, but will eventually branch off into a universe of little smutty ficlets where Reader will corrupt virgin!Eddie as much as humanely possible.

—

Eddie hadn't known about the existence of his little brother until two months ago, when Al Munson showed up in the middle of the night with a small child in tow. Eddie didn't even know his dad was out of prison again, and yet here he was, in the flesh, a little boy with a mop of black curls resembling Eddie's own cradled in his leather jacket-clad arms.

Al was lucky Wayne was working or else this family reunion would have gone south fast.

While Wayne wasn't Al's biggest fan, Al was Eddie's dad, and Eddie would always hold onto as many moments with his father as he could get, no matter how sparse, and no matter how much of a self-serving piece of shit asshole Al Munson truly was.

But Eddie didn’t see it like that. Eddie saw it like this: His dad lived a hard life. His dad struggled with addictions. His dad lost a wife, just as Eddie had lost a mother. His dad tried his best with what he had.

Deep down, Eddie knew these were all just sorry excuses, but he kept that truth tucked away, not wanting to deal with the reality that Al truly only cared about himself.

He already had one dead parent. If he cut his dad out of his life, he’d basically have two.

"When'd you get out?" Eddie asked, stepping aside so Al could enter. His eyes followed the child, brows furrowed. The trailer was always Al's first stop on his freedom tour and the older man had always brought some sort of baggage along with him -- never a little kid, though. What the hell kind of trouble had his dad gotten into this time?

"Few days ago," Al replied, heading for the living room. He placed the sleeping child down on the worn sofa, then straightened and faced Eddie. "Listen, son, you gotta do me a favor. I'm not out long this time. I might've robbed an ATM or two last night. I'm kinda on the lam."

Al didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish at his wrongdoing.

Eddie was used to this. Even when Al was a free man, he was never a free man for long. He didn't think his dad knew how to coexist among non-inmate citizens. Eddie didn't think his dad even wanted to. Prison was a creature comfort for the elder Munson. Eddie wasn't necessarily mad at that fact. He was happy when Al was locked up, because then at least he knew where his dad was. Otherwise, Eddie worried his father would eventually get himself into a situation he wouldn't be able to get out of, and Eddie would really never see him again.

Eddie was also used to Al showing up after months and months, sometimes even years and years, such as now, always asking for favors.

"Who is that?" Eddie asked, pointing towards the couch, not being able to ignore the other human in the room any longer.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I need your help with.” Al rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, no way to do this other than to just say it. That there's your little brother, Eddie. His name's Oliver. And I need you and Wayne to look after him while I'm gone."

"My... what..." Eddie stammered, face scrunching up. He expected Al to burst out laughing and admit he was just fucking around, and that this tiny sleeping stranger was actually just the kid of a fellow convict buddy. Maybe it was said convict buddy’s turn to rob ATMs tonight, leaving Al the babysitter. Irresponsible. Unlikely. And, turns out, untrue.

With Al's silence, Eddie knew his dad’s admission wasn't a joke.

Eddie was beyond confused now.

"Dad, how... you've been in prison for six years!"

"Conjugal visits," Al answered with a bit of a smug shrug.

Eddie shook his head in disbelief. "What the fuck? Wayne can't afford another kid that's not even his... and I'm in school still, I can't watch him... this isn't... I don't know how..."

But Al was already making his way to the door.

"I know you'll figure it out. I can always count on you, my boy," Al prided, tone cheery as if the favor he'd just asked of Eddie was to give him a quick ride somewhere or find an old family recipe.

Al wasn't acting like he was ditching another Munson offspring off on his older brother. He was treating this like an issue of minor importance, just a little speed bump on an otherwise flat road.

Al Munson was not an upstanding person. Never had been, never would be. Because of this, Eddie shouldn't have been surprised or appalled, but here he was, standing with his mouth agape. Surprised. Appalled.

His dad was out the door with a lighthearted, "See ya 'round, son," and Eddie was left speechless in the middle of the living room.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne got over the new addition to the Munson household fairly quickly.

While he'd been livid at first, calling up all of Al's old friends he'd still had the numbers of to try and find out where his dumb shit of a younger brother was, Wayne eventually became resigned to the idea that he now had another little boy to rear and mold.

What else could he do?

Wayne took care of his kin, especially if they were innocent bystanders and had no say in being born in the first place. He'd raised Eddie, and although he knew the boy had his struggles, he didn't think he'd done too bad of a job.

Eddie never went hungry, always had clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, and Wayne was the one who haggled Eddie's van down to a reasonable price so the boy could pay for it with his lunch box salary.

Wayne knew about the weed and the pills, but so long as Eddie stayed smart about where he was selling and who he was selling to, he didn't much mind Eddie's unconventional line of work. It helped his nephew stay somewhat social, and Wayne knew how important that would be for Eddie's future. If the boy was nothing but a lone recluse his whole life, he'd probably end up just like Al. Nobody wanted that.

Eddie was just about grown now. Sure, he was rearing twenty and still in his senior year of high school, but Wayne had an inkling that '86 would be Eddie's year.

Wayne had always thought about selling the trailer and buying an RV with retirement money once Eddie was out on his own. He wanted to travel the country for the remainder of his life.

The idea that he'd have to raise up another wild Munson for the next fifteen or so years caused a knot to form in his stomach.

Would Wayne even be around for that much longer? He may have been relatively healthy, and he was only in his mid 60's, but Wayne wasn't an idiot. He knew anything could happen at any time.

Wayne knew he needed help this time around. He figured he could count on Eddie here and there, but Eddie needed to focus on school this year if he planned on finally walking the stage. Because of this, Wayne decided to enlist the help of someone on the outside. Someone with experience.

So, he posted an ad in the Hawkins Post, looking for a full-time nanny for a five-year-old boy to start as soon as possible, and waited for a response.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne didn't have to wait long.

Two mornings following the job post, shortly after he'd returned home from work, he heard a knock on the trailer door.

When he answered, he saw a pretty young thing standing on the front stoop.

"Hi!" you greeted, then immediately began to ramble. "Are you Mr. Munson? I hope it's okay I just showed up... there wasn't a number listed, only an address, and I didn't know if you wanted me to write a response and mail it, but the ad seemed maybe a little urgent, so I thought, hey, what's the harm in just... showing... up..."

You trailed off, feeling silly for word vomiting during your first impression. He was watching you with a small smile, eyes flickering with what looked like amusement, especially as your cheeks began to color to the soft red of embarrassment.

Listing no number on the ad was intentional. He hadn't owned a rotary phone in about ten years, after having tried to cut back on bills, and he knew not just anyone would make the trek to Forest Hills for a potential job offer. He’d figured only committed applicants that wouldn't waste his time would follow through.

"I have a lot of experience," you continued on at his silence, almost as if you couldn't help it, compelled to divulge all the information you could in the first three minutes of meeting. Wayne found it endearing. "I used to babysit for three different families when I was in high school. And I have two little sisters. My mom and dad worked a lot growing up, so I spent a lot of time with them. Didn't get paid, but... I made sure they didn't die or anything..."

From their brief interaction thus far, Wayne knew he succeeded in his method of weeding out flakes. You were obviously serious about the position. He felt he was a decent judge of character, and he'd learned in life that sometimes over-explaining was synonymous with caring.

"Sorry," you said, forcing out a little laugh. "I guess I could have just introduced myself. You didn't really need to know all that." You shot your hand out, giving your name. "I'm here about the nannying gig. Um, obviously. That is, if I didn't already scare you off."

Wayne took your hand in both of his own, shaking it. He placated you with a grin. "It's a lot harder than that to scare off a Munson, sweetheart. Let's go inside and meet Olly."

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Although Oliver Munson was only five, he had a spectacular vocabulary and a limitless imagination. Wayne knew the boy was a little charmer, quite like how Eddie was when he allowed himself to be, when the teenager wasn't drowning himself in existential teenage angst and nonsense.

You fell under Olly's spell almost instantly.

And it seemed the little boy had fallen under yours as well.

Oliver didn't stop talking to you while you were there, and didn't stop talking about you after you’d left, asking when you’d be back and if next time you could take him to the trailer park's playground and maybe you two could watch G.I. Joe or He-Man together afterward.

Wayne had taken your number down before you’d left and had told you he'd be in touch soon.

Later that evening, after Eddie had gotten back from his club meeting at school, Wayne took the trip into downtown Hawkins to use the payphone and ask you if you wouldn't mind starting as early as tomorrow.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You were far from struggling for money.

Your father was a sought-after criminal prosecutor for the entirety of Indiana. Your mother was a real estate agent for high profile clientele who came from old family money; her father was CEO of a day trading business, and his father before him had been the same.

Although you likely would have never had to work a day in your life and could live a comfortable existence off of inheritance alone, handouts and the humdrum of an All-Play-and-No-Work lifestyle was never a dream of yours. That sounded so cookie cutter, so monotonous, so boring.

You liked to feel a sense of accomplishment. You liked setting goals and reaching them. You didn't want to freeload off of money that was gained from the capitalistic professions your parents were a part of. You wanted to be in control of your own finances and be the author of your own future, not have it already be etched into stone simply by being just another rich kid from Hawkins, à la the likes of the Carver's or the Cunningham's or the Harrington's.

You were ecstatic when you got the call from Wayne, asking you if you’d be willing to start the following day. He left for work at 2PM, so you’d have to be there before then, and would need to plan on staying until Wayne's nephew got home around six.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you felt a bit nervous, but the job itself wasn't the reason why that writhing feeling accompanied your excitement.

You had more than ten years of babysitting experience under your belt, and you were eager to get back into a job you actually enjoyed as opposed to trying out different careers to see what stuck and what didn't. Having graduated the spring before, you’d been taking an off year to save up money by working odd jobs around Hawkins to be able to buy your own apartment.

You’d worked as a florist for a few weeks, but it turned out your thumb was pitch black instead of green.

You worked as the personal assistant for a group of lawyers from a local law firm, but it turned out they just needed office eye candy and not someone to actually get any sort of work done.

You worked as a veterinary assistant, but it turned out the job was much more than just petting cats and dogs. You couldn't handle it when a sick animal would come in and there would be nothing anyone could do. Your heart broke more at that clinic than it had your entire life.

You were in between jobs when you’d decided to peruse the classified section of the Hawkins post. There, in the shortest blurb on the page, was a listing for a needed nanny, a full-time position offering negotiable pay.

The next bit was where the excitement wavered.

The listing was published by a Wayne Munson of the Forest Hills trailer park.

That had to be Eddie Munson's uncle. There was no way there were two separate Munson families living in the only trailer park in Kerley County.

You couldn't believe that you’d stumbled across this ad, that the geeky metalhead you’d crushed on since your freshman year of high school had a little brother you could be the potential nanny of.

You were two years younger than Eddie, but that hadn't stopped you from losing periods of time to daydreams about the way the wind ruffled his wild mess of curls on breezy days or the way his band tee sleeves always clung perfectly to the soft muscles of his biceps or the way his cheeks dimpled when he teased the other boys he sat with at lunch.

You’d always wanted to introduce yourself, but you didn't run in the same crowds -- you being on the cheer team and Eddie blasting Black Sabbath in the parking lot after his Hellfire meetings. You could never muster the courage. He seemed so carefree, so full of life, so effortlessly funny. Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend, had spoken to him once or twice and had told you how different he was than what other people said about him. He wasn't scary or mean or threatening, and instead was warm and silly and genuine.

But you knew how the people you spent your time around treated people like him. You knew your group of "friends" referred to him as a freak, a Satan worshipper, and did everything in their power to try to bully him into becoming a shell of himself. Thankfully, he never did -- it was almost as if Eddie absorbed the hatefulness and spent it tenfold by mocking the hilarity of the jock hierarchy that ruled the school, as well as using it to strengthen his own ability to embrace every misfit that walked the halls of Hawkins High.

You never introduced yourself because you were afraid he’d think you had an ulterior motive, that you’d be trying to talk to him as a joke or a prank. You knew the company you kept. You were sure Jason Carver had once or twice suggested you do just that, lead Eddie on and make a fool of him in front of the whole school.

You figured it'd be best to just stay away.

But now, you thought finding this ad was possibly a sign from the universe.

Maybe you were getting a second chance.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Eddie was running late.

He was supposed to be back home half an hour ago to relieve whoever Olly's new babysitter was of her duties, but the campaign had taken a shocking turn and Hellfire couldn't disband until it had commenced.

The night finally ended with Will's character decapitating Dustin's, and Eddie had to thwart an actual attack when Dustin leapt across the game table at Will in a bout of rage. Dustin was small but mighty, and Eddie had to physically wrestle the boy off of Will's neck, threatening to banish Dustin from the next few campaigns if he didn’t chill out. Henderson had huffed and puffed but had admitted defeat and apologized to Will for the attempted murder.

By the time Eddie arrived back to the trailer park, the sun had almost set. He pulled his van into his parking spot to the right of the trailer and shut it off. Stepping out, he swung his backpack over his shoulder, but came to a halt when he heard Olly's scream sound from behind the trailer.

Dropping his bag and beginning to run toward the noise, Eddie's heart fell to his stomach. Horrible images of what could possibly be pulling that sound from his little brother pervaded Eddie's mind. He had an overactive imagination to begin with, and something like this verbal cue only egged it on. "Olly!" he shouted, panic raising his voice. "Olly, are you okay?! What’s going on, where are --"

Eddie came to a halt when he found the boy in the backyard with a huge smile spread across his small, sweaty face. Olly had a fake crown on, one made of twigs and leaves, and he was carrying one of the biggest sticks Eddie had ever seen. He had a blanket tucked into the back of his shirt, the cloth a makeshift cape. A thin piece of metal, probably from one of the cars Wayne and Eddie sometimes worked on, was wrapped around his center, acting as armor.

Olly had just been playing.

Letting out a heavy breath of relief, Eddie noticed your frame just off to the side. His eyes started from the ground up, noting the shiny red Docs donning your feet, moving up bare legs that were covered mid-thigh by a short black skater dress, one that hugged your curves in a way that had Eddie’s mouth going dry.

By the time he reached your face, your eyes were wide with amusement.

You’d been watching as he slowly drank you in. He didn't mean to ogle. He had to shake his head a few times to clear it, and when he did so, the face before him started looking more and more familiar.

"Wait," he started, head tilting. He spoke your name, tone riddled with confusion. "From high school?"

You were about to answer when Oliver cleared his throat, obviously not wanting to be ignored or to have his playtime interrupted any longer. You looked down at the boy, who pointed up to his head at his crown. You got the gist -- Olly wanted the game to continue. You could indulge him. You’d been doing it all day, and honestly you’d been having the most fun you’d had in a while.

You turned your attention back to Eddie, fixing your posture and jutting your chin out slightly. "I don't know who that is," you began, voice lilting. "I am Princess Guinevere of Kerley County and this here,” you brought your gaze back down to Oliver, “is my most loyal servant, Sir Olly of Castle Munson."

Eddie couldn't help the grin that broke out over his face at your announcement. He then took a moment to fully take in the rest of your appearance. You, too, had on a makeshift crown, this one made up of cherry blossoms and daisies. You had a flowing blanket tucked into the back of your dress, cascading down your back like a veil.

No fucking way were you, last year's cheerleading captain and prom queen, standing in his backyard playing fucking knights and princesses with his little brother. No fucking way.

Olly broke the silence by shouting out, "Hey, Eddie! Who are you gonna be?"

Eddie tore his eyes from you to focus on his brother. He pursed his lips to one side in thought, trying to come up with a character. He was usually quick on his feet when it came to creative play, but he had just spent the last three hours DM'ing a month-long DnD campaign. His brain felt shot. He was pulled from his introspective reverie by your soft, suggestive voice — no, sorry — the soft, suggestive voice of Princess Guinevere.

"Wanna be my dragon, Eddie?" you asked.

Eddie wasn't exactly sure why that made his breath catch in his throat.

He nodded dumbly, silent, then forced himself to speak because he didn't want to look totally lame in front of a Princess. "Okay. Yeah, I'll be your dragon."

You graced him with a smile before Oliver's tiny but booming voice cut through the air of the darkening night. "HEY! Dragons don't talk!" the boy stomped his foot and hit his stick against the muddy ground in annoyance.

A laugh bubbled from your throat and Eddie grinned, jumping into a wide-legged stance before outstretching his arms, tilting his head back, and roaring.

[taintedcigs]

eddie w tattoo artist reader..... trying SO hard to seem like he's not dying from pain while she tattoos his chest, bc he's trying to impress her. she's the coolest girl he's ever seen and the fact that her art is on him forever makes him so giddy and happy, almost as happy as getting her number

call me if you need a groupie — e.m.

yes yes yes yes yes. a thousand times yes to this. thank u for this request omg i looooove lovesick cutie eddie soooooo much. this was meant to be a blurb but now its a 2.8k+ fic oops. idk if there were exclusive shirts ok i tried to do my research but this is the best i could get and idk how tattoo processes are so take everything i wrote w a grain of salt !! not proofread as always so ignore any mistakes and also idk why but i looved writing for this dynamic and if anyone would be interested i could write a pt.2 for some smut !! (maybe sub!eddie or switch!eddie? 👀)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!tattoo artist!reader (wc: 2.8k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI w any of my works!!. just pure fluff!! maybe the teeniest tiniest angst, eddie is kinda insecure <3, eddie is a lovesick cutie honey pie !! and swearing? oh also tattooing ofc (needles n stuff)

He doesn't mean to flinch, he doesn't mean to show you how stressed he is, but you can sense it.

Each time the needle presses against his skin, he hisses, mouth biting onto his lips, harsh enough to draw blood.

But Eddie doesn’t care, you—the hottest and coolest girl—that has ever graced the hellhole that was Hawkins was tattooing him, and Eddie couldn’t afford to look like a coward.

So with everything in him, he shut his lips, biting on them, becoming accustomed to the metallic taste because it didn’t matter, not when you looked so fucking pretty when cooing him and your free hand squeezed his biceps for reassurance.

He didn’t know what to admire first, the way your lips quirked sweetly when you answered his dumb questions, the way you looked so focused with your lip between your teeth, trying to tattoo him, or the fact that you were wearing an Anthrax shirt, and not just any regular Anthrax shirt that you could find at those regular shops, it was an exclusive shirt that was only sold at the concerts, and he had to gulp physically at that.

You were a tattoo artist… and a metal fan? How perfect could you get?

Before his questions were answered, the needle pricked at his skin again, he cursed out, and instead of screaming in his mind, he whimpered out loud this time.

Your head perked up quickly and Eddie was now cursing himself, for being a fucking idiot, for looking like a coward in front of you.

“I can slow down if you want to,” You said with a smile, a sweet smile that adorned your perfectly red lips, they looked so fucking kissable.

“N–no!” He stuttered, but you gave him a huff. “C’mon Eds, you’re doing good… better than anyone I’ve ever tattooed has, we can slow down a bit.” You reassured.

His eyes lit up like a child, Eds? His new acquired nickname rolled off your tongue so sweetly, your words dripped in honey. And Eddie decided he would do anything to hear you call him that again.

Not only did you call him Eds, but you also said he was better than the others, and the childish grin on Eddie’s lips was quick to grow again, his entire body relaxing as he almost melted into you.

“You think so?” He asked, tone giddy and all sweet, causing a pretty giggle to escape your lips.

“I know so!” You hummed. “Tattooed a guy yesterday. He was tall. Like really fucking tall, and he had this long beard and tattoos everywhere!” You exaggerated, watching Eddie’s eyes widen. “He cried like a baby the second that needle prickled his skin!”

“And look at you, taking everything I’m giving you like a champ,” You winked.

If only you knew the affect you had on him, Eddie’s entire face grew red at that, he would, without hesitation take anything you gave him.

He tried, so fucking hard not to think about it, but now his mind was filled with the images of you, sitting on his faze, your pretty cunt glistening as he lapped away at your juices.

He imagined those pretty manicured fingers discarding his hair, ruffling while those pretty little lips were hung open, chanting his name. Your whines and whimpers would fill the room as he begged for you to cum in his mouth. He wouldn’t stop until you smothered him.

Until all he could taste was you.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, because the blood was quick to rush to his cock, and he didn’t want to have his bulge hardening against his tight pants anymore than he needed to, you were inches away from him and he wanted to seem cool–so fucking badly.

“Really?” He asked, and you nodded swiftly. “So brave for me.” You coo, lips lightly brushing against his cheek, as you plant a little kiss.

And Eddie was sure this was heaven now, he blinked quickly to make sure he wasn't dreaming, the light kiss you left on his cheeks lingered, and he could feel it burn.

His cheeks were purely crimson red now, he couldn't fucking help it. He ached for you, ached to have you close to him, ached to feel your touch, and everything you did was enough to drive him crazy, make him feel out of his fucking mind.

He was putty in your hands and you had no fucking idea.

His mouth stood agape, a dumbfounded look overtaking his features for too fucking long until the soft buzz of the machine brought him back again, the needle quick to puncture the skin's surface again, causing Eddie to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried his best not to fucking scream.

Be cool, be cool, be fucking cool Edward Munson.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head, and he was glad you were focusing on tattooing the cute sketch you made for him, and not his actual face that probably looked straight out of a horror movie.

“So—uh... c—cool shirt,” Eddie muttered, voice so low that he was surprised when you hummed back at him.

“Oh, yeah,” You muttered.

“You listen to Anthrax?” You asked with a beaming smile, gaze still focused on Eddie's arm.

Eddie huffed painfully but realized quickly that the nervousness of talking to you was overpowering the pain of the tattoo gun drilling into his skin.

“Are you kidding? Anthrax, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath... Megadeth! You name it I probably listen to it,” He hummed, and your eyes glimmered, causing Eddie's breath to hitch and his wavering nervousness to appear again. “Metal is my jam, baby!” He exclaimed, not too loud to disturb your tattooing process but loud enough to cause a giggle out of you.

Metal is my jam? Baby? Who the fuck says that?

Eddie was afraid to look into your eyes now, afraid to see the gaze everyone gives him.

Like he's an outsider like he's a freak.

But when he hears that pretty giggle of yours again, comfort takes over him, nervousness dissipating quickly when he sees the gentle look you give him.

Almost as if to let him know that you also love those bands. Almost as if to let him know that he wasn't an outsider because you were just like him.

“Dio?” You asked with a curious gaze, face beaming up when Eddie nodded furiously.

“Fuckin' love Dio,” He muttered, barely realizing the needle on his skin now, all thanks to you.

“Uhh—how did you even get that shirt?” Eddie asked, almost shyly, admiring the way you were neatly tattooing him.

“I wanted to go to that concert so badly but the tickets were sold out so quickly.” He added.

“Oh! I was Belladonna's groupie,” You muttered mindlessly, the pain as you prickled the needle was an afterthought to Eddie now, almost forgetting how to breathe, he coughed, quite loudly, causing you to look up at him and see the bewildered look on his face.

You stopped the machine when you chuckled lightly, "Oh, Eds!"

There it was, that nickname again, god you were dizzying his mind.

“I was just joking,” You smiled at him, and he wanted to melt, right then and there. "Needed to go a little bit deeper so I thought I'd distract you," You shrugged, and Eddie returned the smile.

He liked the feeling of having someone care about him, he liked talking to you, and he sure as hell enjoyed being with someone so similar to him—someone so fucking cool.

“Though I did go to that concert in 1987.” You could feel Eddie’s curious gaze on you

“My friend knew their manager,” You murmured again.

"Really?!? How was it?" He asked, face beaming again.

“So fucking cool.” You gushed as you started talking about their set list, how the first punch you ever threw was at that concert, and you enthusiastically animated Donais' guitar riff, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie. He loved every bit of your story, listening attentively as your exaggerations enticed him more and more.

The longer you tattooed him, the more comfortable Eddie got, pain was no longer his main concern when all he wanted to do was make you laugh, hear that sweet giggle escaping from your lips, admire the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him so sugary.

Minutes stretched into hours as you focused on his tattoo, each pass of the needle causing a smile on your face as the sketch you made became more intricate and alluring on his bare skin.

“All done!” You exclaimed with a smile when you finally finished tattooing him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when the buzz of the machine was finally replaced with silence.

You couldn't help but trace every part of his face now, you wanted to see if he liked it, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you couldn't read Eddie's expressions.

“Oh my god,” Was all that left Eddie's lips, and your lips almost started to tremble.

Jesus fucking Christ, how bad did you fuck up?

“Oh my fucking god,” He repeated again, this time his head tilted upward to your direction, almost snapping as you looked at him with scared eyes.

But your gaze eased the second you saw the admiration in Eddie's gaze. “This is a fucking masterpiece!” He beamed, causing a smile on your lips, so fucking big and pretty that he wished he could have that tattooed instead.

“It's fucking perfect,” He muttered again, shaking his head in disbelief when he looked at the tattoo on his forearm.

“I mean when I saw that sketch, I knew you were good to , but holy shit,” He praised again, causing heat to grow in your cheeks, he had no idea how much it meant to you, to have someone appreciating your art, to have people walk around in the sketches you did, indelible on their skin. It felt so fucking good.

“It's...perfect.”

“Really?”

“Of fucking course,” He gushed. “You're so fuckin' talented it's crazy,” He muttered, fingertips gentle as they avoided glazing through the tattoo, but around it.

You were so fucking perfect it was killing him, and he couldn't help the giddy feeling inside of him knowing that your art would be etched into his skin, forever.

You couldn't shake off the thoughts in your head, swirling when Eddie uttered those compliments to you.

Your cheeks grew hot so quickly that you felt the need to turn around, trying to think of something to say to him so that you wouldn't look like a fucking idiot.

Eddie turned around to face you, the smile that brought out his dimples apparent in his face as he watched you scrabble something on a business card.

“Thank you,” You muttered when you turned around, hands almost shaking as you extended your arm to give Eddie the card.

He scrambled it into his back pocket, not caring when you were this close to him, but you frowned at that. “No, thank you, for this masterpiece” He winked, pointing toward his forearm.

He didn't even know where he got the confidence to even be able to wink at you, and his coolness wore off the second he exited the shop, a silent shrieking scream exited his mouth as he freaked out.

Your sketch. On his arm.

You. Tattoo artist. Metal fan.

You, kissing him on the cheek, talking to him for hours, laughing at his idiotic jokes.

You.

Eddie was sure he lost his mind, hands shaking as he reached for the card in his back pocket.

The card was black and the title on it was dripping with blood. He whined.

How much cooler were you going to get?

He gulped when he looked back, seeing you toward the clear glass door, and he knew.

He knew that if he didn't do it now, he could never do it, this was his only fucking chance, and he couldn't be a coward, not now, not when you were this close to him.

Eddie entered back into the shop in a frenzy, causing your head to pop up swiftly as you looked at him dumbfounded.

God, you were so gorgeous he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“C—can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat to not appear nervous, and you nodded, furiously.

“Look, I know this is weird and all... but... uhm, I really feel like we connected,” He muttered, fingers tapping against the glass counter that you were standing behind in.

“And I thought maybe... uhhh... I could like—get your number or somethin'?” He uttered anxiously, tilting his head slightly to the side, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.

And even though why you laughed was reasonable, it was the worst fucking thing you could have done to Eddie.

Especially when your laugh seemed so mocking, almost different than the ones you gave him earlier before. Jogging deep into this memory of the countless times when Eddie tried to pluck up the courage to ask girls in his class out, only to be laughed in his face, or to have them insult him.

But this was more than that, it pained him.

It pained him to think that you thought of him like the others did. Like you saw him as an outsider, too.

His bubble of confidence that was already wavering was even quicker to fizzle out, he could feel that familiar lump in his throat, shoulders slumping as his gaze was quick to show his emotions.

He was hurt. And he was sure this hurt much more than a thousand needles breaking the barriers of his skin, “Uhhh,” He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Just.... never mind” He added, defeatedly turning back around to exit the shop once again as he ignored you calling out for him.

“Wait!” You yelled out after him, but Eddie started walking faster.

“Shit shit shit!” You cursed yourself for your little joke.

“Eds, please!” You called out again, this time effective enough to make Eddie stop in his tracks.

Eds. Oh you knew how to get him hooked, how to get him right where you wanted him.

And he hated himself for being this weak for you, someone he met, just recently.

“What?” He answered coldly, glaring at you with bitterness that made you want to hide out, that gentle soul in him disappearing in mere seconds.

And you sighed, hating that he could ever see you as someone that would make fun of him.

“Flip the card,” Your gaze on him was intense, cheeks growing hot again knowing that you were going to see his reaction to your stupid note.

“I don't have time for your bullshit” He spat, almost on his feet to leave.

You sighed. “Eds, just... will you just please flip the card?” You asked, all prettily that Eddie couldn't help but oblige, but be gentle with you again because he couldn't resist it. He couldn't resist you.

He huffed as he plucked the card out of the back pocket of his jeans, turning it over in one swift motion.

'CALL ME IF U NEED A GROUPIE' and your digits were attached right below it.

His gaze softened immediately, head drooping further as he huffed at himself.

He felt stupid, so fucking stupid.

Why did he ever think you would treat him like the others?

His chest expanded with hope when he looked back up at you, a soft smile graced his lips.

“Oh,” He muttered, not able to help the childish grin that was now stuck to his lips.

“Shut up,” You giggled, nudging him slightly.

“You owe me,” You narrowed your eyes sarcastically, causing his brows to quip.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, a newfound confidence washing him over when you were so easy to talk to.

“A date,” You beamed, scrunching your nose.

“Okay.” The words left his lips quickly, too quickly that it had you feeling giddy inside.

“How about tomorrow?” He didn't even know how he managed to get those words out without stuttering.

“Uhm—sure.” You were the one stuttering now, cheeks burning up as you could barely look at him. His grin was sickly inviting.

“I'll pick you up at 8?” You nodded so quickly that you were sure your head was about to fall off.

“See you tomorrow,” His voice was sultry as he winked again, making you almost melt, looking cool on the surface when all he wanted to do was go home, freak the fuck out, tell Wayne all about the cool girl who tattooed him, and not be able to sleep until your date tomorrow.

[chaostroberry1]

Hey how are you? I was wondering if you could have some headcanons for Hermes, Poseidon, Apollo and Loki with a goddess of sadness. She is the tallest of all the goddesses there, measuring almost three meters, she always has a melancholic aura and a quite sensitive, solitary and serious personality but she is kind to the most intimate people in her circle. She adores humanity and used to have a human husband before he tragically died. She is one of the strongest goddesses, when she cries she makes her sadness infect others, making them cry too and feel her pain (it is based on blue diamond from Steven Universe but I don't know if you know her. You don't need to add any more her if she is not to your taste). I'm sorry if it was a bit long, in advance please and thank you!

Oooh the pretty lady?? Im a bit familiar with her. I did my research on Google, I hope I didn't get anything wrong 😭 I'm also not sure if this is an "× reader" or not, so I'm very sorry. You may chat me again if it isn't what you asked for♥

°•Apollo+Hermes+Loki+Poseidon W a goddess of sadness!reader•°

Loki

- Loki and you are literally polar opposites. You both are so different, yet you both ended up being close to each other.

- he's very curious as to why you're so gloomy and emotional. But you are the goddess of sadness, you live up to your title. Literally.

- whenever he pulls pranks or Snickers at jokes, he's always looking towards you and pointing a finger at whoever was unlucky enough to be his target— thinking you'd instantly feel better.

- no, you actually got gloomier.

- but I think he'd take a liking to you. Opposites attract pretty well if I do say so myself. Atleast he has someone (not really) willing to listen to him.

- and about your height, I bet he'd use his floating ability to float towards your face, so he could talk to you more , and os that you don't have to bend down a little to hear him. And yes, he will ignore the fact that you are uncomfortable or not.

- he just yaps and talks about anything basically. Even if you are very quiet. you talk sometimes, only when you really feel like it.

- seeing how you can make people cry just because YOU are crying... its probably super amusing to him. Even if he's also there shedding tears.

-i bet he'd try to make you cry near the unbreakable ones like Thor, Poseidon, Odin, and so on. Just for the fun of it. A little experiment to make sure you're really that strong.

Apollo

- this guy is the perfect ladies man. He knows how to entertain you, he knows how to stop your thoughts from going elsewhere (or maybe stopping you from thinking about something sad. Or else everyone will get affected with your sadness plague.)

- even with your tall height, he still knows how to take care of you. He will find ways. Like when you visit his place, he will make sure you have enough room in the pool of water. He'd also dismiss the nymphs who are staring at your tall figure.

- if y'all are in a relationship, then he's willing to make you atleast a little bit happy. Seeing you cry for the first time was so heartbreaking to see, until it started happening more often.

- well, he learned to embrace it. And now, whenever you cry, he'll just come up to you with his arms open. (Like the "where my hug at?" Typa pose.) and he'll approach you slowly like--

"darling, darling, no need to cry. Let's look to the bright side!"

-- before he makes a tiny lil ball of light in his hands w his photokinesis. If not, he himself would probably blind someone with his light, just to make his statement clear to you. Lmao 😭

- he actually really likes it when you have to bend down a little so you can hear him better. Gives him a better look at your neck, or your chest. And maybe cus he likes the position you're in. (Perv ass)

Hermes

- he's already used to this. But I'm sure he'd find joy in watching your power do its thing to those around you. watching people—especially the most cold blooded gods—cry because of you, is incredible.

- he'd give you praises on your power, and how delightful it was to have such a goddess existing in the realm of divine beings. He'd serve you food and tea, ones that are extra big because of your size and height. Like I can imagine this man carrying a huge ass cup just for you to sip some tea or smth.

- I know you both gossip. He'd be whispering all the stuff he has to know on that day's tea, and you just quietly listen and softly giving your feedback. Y'all would do it in front of the other gods too lmao 😭😭

- your aura combined with his, it's a peculiar combo. But its certainly calming, with his personality and yours, it leaves a weird feeling in the room whenever you two are close.

- you both are pretty chill together tho.

- if you guys were in a relationship, he'd be so understanding and supportive of you. When you enter a battle, he'd probably be behind holding light sticks or something with that small smile he always has.

Poseidon

- now him. He likes your presence. Cus it reminds him a bit of hades. Not the crying part, but more of the calm demeanor you have. You are very soft spoken and it doesn't annoy him.

- you and hades are his only exceptions. Your aura is comforting in a way that soothes his nerves. He's also seen and even felt the sadness you've carried on your shoulders all those years after you beloved died, as well as the burden of other things.

- so he can quite understand you. It must really be difficult dealing with such feelings he learned that after he felt the pain you buried deep into your body when you cried.

- you both are also a peculiar duo combo. I just know most of the gods there ship you both. Loki was the one making the scenerios and fanfics (he's such an ass)

- Poseidon acts like he doesn't care, or is irritated. But in all reality, he doesn't seem to mind. He likes you a lot.

- he's pretty quick to slice someone who makes you cry. He just uses the excuse that he doesn't want to shed tears and all because showing weakness is weak af. But in reality he actually just doesn't want anyone fuckin w you.

- like imagine him saying that showing such weak emotions as a god is pathetic, before seeing you and quickly saying "unless it's completely necessary".