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the-bad-batch-baroness · 1 year ago

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A Man's Worth

Tup x Fem!Reader

Chapter 3: Death in the Twilight

Summary: Your date-night with Tup is interrupted when your stalker finds you and won’t leave without you. Tup heroically comes to your defense, but is overpowered by the assailant and you are taken away. After your rescue, Tup struggles with his insecurities and self-worth as he tries to heal physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Pairing: Tup x Fem!Reader

Characters: Tup, Kix, Fives, Echo, Rex, Jesse, Hardcase, Dogma

Tags & Warnings: 18+, established relationship, domestic fluff, minor suggestive themes, stalking, kidnapping, violence, blood, major injuries, whump, trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, minor character death, self-worth, masculinity, depression, PTSD

Word Count: 6.6k

Author’s Note: This is probably the quickest I've ever updated a fic, but that's only because the chapter was already written. However, I did edit it so it connects better with the previous one. Beware, this chapter is pure angst. No fluffiness in sight! The next chapter will be a little slow to come out, since I haven't written it yet. Also, there may be a fifth chapter because I can't seem to stop. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta Read: By the lovely @commander-sunshine!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

It’s cold, so very cold, and wet. Where did all this water come from? Tup wonders. He tries to move his body away from the cold and wet feeling, but none of his limbs obey his mental commands. Why can’t I move? The tips of his toes begin to tingle, and the odd sensation travels up his legs and torso, eventually spreading into every nook and cranny of his body, like water filling an empty vessel. The tingle turns into a throb, then an ache, and finally into a burning fire.

He feels the weight of something crushing his chest and his breath is stolen. Why can’t I breathe? Where did my lungs go? He tries to open his mouth to scream for help, but it also won’t listen to his commands. Is he even in his body right now? He tries to remember where he is and why he’s there. It’s dark, pitch dark, and silent, like a stasis of being. An ominous and unnerving thought nags at the back of his mind, but it refuses to be caught into his consciousness.

Suddenly, a bright light breaks through the darkness, but it looks cold. It doesn’t look like the light he imagined the call of death would resemble. Wait… Death? Am I dead? He tries to remember, but the picture in his mind is fractured like puzzle pieces dumped onto a floor. Parts of a whole scattered across a vast and never-ending expanse. His remaining thoughts are pierced by a loud noise. He wants to cover his ears from the ringing but he can’t. His eyes finally open.

The artificial lights are bright and his vision is blurry. The constant beeping sound stabs into his skull. His head is swirling as his mind fails to comprehend where he is. It’s too bright. It’s too loud. He attempts to take a breath, but he can’t. He tries to move his hands, but he can’t. He tries to speak, but he can’t. Panic sets in and the beeping sound becomes louder and faster, pounding further and deeper into his head. All he wants is for someone to make it stop.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a muffled and calm voice breaks through his panicked haze. “Easy vod’ika. Udesii. Calm down.”

Tup’s mind is a swirling mess of confusion and incoherent thoughts. He can’t place the voice, and he doesn’t care who it belongs to as long as they make the noise stop. He needs help. He needs the voice to help him. His body won’t move and his lungs won’t work. I can’t breathe. Why can’t I move my legs? Why can’t I move my arms? Tup struggles weakly against his confines, desperately attempting to move something, anything, but a set of firm hands stops him.

“Tup,” the muffled voice becomes clearer and is more stern than before. The figure stands over him, blocking out the bright lights overhead, while waving a hand across his vision. “Look at me.”

Tup blinks to try and clear away his blurry vision. He sees the dark outline of a face, but he can’t make out who it belongs to. He feels something odd, then his stomach lurches and he stifles a cough against his teeth as he feels a long tube being pulled out of the inside of his body and neck. The feeling is startling and uncomfortable, but nothing he can’t handle. He tries to take a deep breath now, but he can’t. Why can’t he breathe? Why won’t the blurry man let him breathe?

“Tup, breathe through your nose,” the soothing voice commands. “Focus on breathing through your nose.”

Tup blinks harder and the picture becomes clear. It’s Kix. He wonders what Kix is doing here. He tries to ask him, but he can’t open his mouth. Why can’t he open his mouth? The new realization sets in. He can’t open his mouth, which is why he can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. A fresh wave of panic washes over him and that incessant beeping noise gets louder and faster again. The beeping matches the rhythm of his heart and it pounds into his head like a stake.

“You’re giving me no choice,” Kix sighs as he grabs a small syringe off the counter. “I need you to calm down and breathe through your nose.” He takes the syringe and injects the contents into the IV attached to Tup’s neck.

Tup feels a rush of warm liquid travel to the ends of his extremities. He sees stars and his body lightens as he becomes a little drowsy. His heartbeat begins to slow and the beeping of the heart monitor follows the new rhythm. As his nerves settle, he starts breathing disjointedly through his nose. Kix looks in his eyes and breathes with him, trying to have him match his rhythm. A slow inhale and a slow exhale, over and over again, until Tup is breathing at his own pace.

“That’s it,” Kix praises softly. “You’re doing great.”

As his body falls deeper and deeper into a relaxed state, Tup tries to ask Kix what’s going on, but he still can’t open his mouth. His eyes grow wide, but his body won’t let him fall into another panic episode. He eyes Kix and tries to communicate that he can’t open his mouth, but Kix doesn’t catch on to his attempts at telepathy. Instead, Kix sits in the chair next to the hospital bed, throws his head back, and sighs in relief. Tup is confused at his actions and waits for him to speak.

Kix picks his head back up and leans toward the bed. “Thank the Maker, you're finally awake.”

Tup furrows his brow in confusion, the only body part he can seem to move at the moment.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Kix chuckles lightheartedly.

Tup doesn’t know what Kix is talking about.

“You didn’t wake up after your surgery,” Kix explains as he leans back in the chair and rubs his forehead. “And to be honest, we weren’t sure if you would wake up at all. It’s been Five rotations.”

Tup’s eyes widen with the startling news, but the pieces of his memory are still scattered.

“You have multiple fractures in both legs, your left arm, several cracked ribs, internal bleeding, a skull fracture, and a broken jaw,” Kix continues to explain. “We were able to reconnect most of the broken pieces during surgery and repair the internal bleeds.”

Tup’s breathing quickens at the laundry list of injuries he’s unsure how he got.

“I had to wire your jaw shut too,” Kix notes as he realizes he should have mentioned that piece of information first since he’s been talking to himself for the entirety of the conversation. “Which is why you can’t open your mouth and need to breathe through your nose. I also had to intubate you using a trach in your throat because you stopped breathing eight times, but I removed that when you woke up.”

Tup’s mind goes numb with all the information. Some pieces are clicking back together as he now understands why he can’t speak or why he had so much trouble breathing. He still doesn’t remember how he received such severe injuries that warranted this much medical intervention. As he studies Kix’s face for more answers, he can see the dark circles under his eyes and his hair threatening to cover the tattoo on the side of his head. He looks burnt out and exhausted.

“Also, you’re in traction,” Kix adds as he rubs the back of his neck. “Basically, you’re immobile. Well, except for your head and your right hand, but I restrained both just in case you had an intense reaction when you woke up. Glad I did too. I didn’t need you pulling your breathing tube out.”

Tup stares into Kix’s eyes, trying to communicate all his observations and questions to him, but has no luck.

Kix can see the searching look in Tup’s eyes as they dart around. He cocks his head to the side at the obvious dilemma and thinks for a moment. “If I remove the restraints,” Kix begins with hesitation, “will you promise not to do anything stupid? Blink twice for yes or once for no.”

Tup blinks twice in response. What could he possibly do with one hand?

Kix walks around to the other side of the medical bed and undoes the restraint holding Tup’s right hand securely to the rail. Tup slowly moves his arm, rolls his wrist, and expands and contracts his fingers to gauge their function. Kix then removes the strap holding his head in place and eyes Tup suspiciously for a moment. Once he’s satisfied with his patient's calm demeanor, he places a data-pad down next to his free hand. “Type what you want to ask me,” Kix says.

Tup carefully turns his head to the side to look at the data-pad and taps on the letters slowly with his fingers. The data-pad, like most, has a text to voice feature, so after he types the words, the built-in voice reads them to Kix.

What happened?

“You don’t remember?” Kix asks with a raised eyebrow.

No.

“Great,” Kix sighs as he grabs his own data-pad with Tup’s medical chart pulled up. He scrolls through some information and makes a few notes. “I’ll add concussion to the list.”

What happened?

“Based on the holo-recording Fox gave us,” Kix begins to explain in a serious tone, not bothering to look up from his data-pad. “You picked a fight with a clone serial killer and miraculously survived.”

Tup knits his brows in confusion as he tries to remember the events, but everything is fuzzy.

Show me.

Kix looks up from his data-pad and frowns. “That’s not a good idea.”

Tup slaps his hand down on the data-pad, his only way of showing emotion. He wants to see it. He wants to see what happened because he can’t remember any of it. He knows he’s forgetting something important and it’s clawing at the back of his mind like an animal trying to escape a cage. He tries to think back to the events that led him here, but the fog is too thick to see through. He gets glimpses, flashes of light, pricks of pain, and sounds that drift along like strangled chords.

Kix crosses his arms and weighs the pros and cons. On one hand the footage could jog his memory, but it’s also disturbing, and watching himself get brutally beaten could put Tup in a state of panic. Kix grumbles to himself but gives in. If things go south, he can always sedate him. Kix swipes through his data-pad and pulls up the footage the Corrie Guard sent over the night they found Tup. He hesitates, but holds the data-pad up for Tup to see and presses play.

Tup watches as the silent recording starts out with an empty alley. As the holo-cam footage rolls further, he sees himself come into view with a woman behind him. A woman? Who is she? The heart monitor starts beeping faster as his thoughts start reeling, trying desperately to remember. Something is coming back to him, but it’s still too vague to connect, like an extension cord that’s too short. If only he had more length. Kix looks up at the monitor and back down at Tup’s face.

His breathing quickens through his nose as he watches himself fight the monstrosity of man in the footage. Then it happens, his fist gets caught. He feels a twinge in his left hand. He may not remember, but his body does. His body remembers all of it. He continues to watch as his limbs are snapped in half and the woman in the footage cowers against the alley. It’s there. It’s on the tip of his tongue. If he could vomit it out, he would. The name. The name of the woman.

A shooting pain strikes like lightning across the back of Tup’s head. He brings his right hand up to touch it out of reflex, but Kix grabs it before it can make contact. Tup looks up at Kix and Kix shakes his head as a warning. Tup’s face scrunches at the shooting pain. He wants to yell, but the most he can do is grunt incoherently through his wired jaw. The pain is excruciating. He wants to keep watching to see what happens to the woman, but Kix pulls it away before it ends.

“That’s enough for now,” Kix says. He rummages through a drawer and pulls out a small vial and a new syringe. “This will help with the pain.” Kix pushes the medicine through the IV and sits back in the chair with his data-pad on his lap.

After a few seconds, Tup starts to feel relief from the stabbing pain in his head and relaxes again. He flips the holo-footage through his mind like pages in a book, roving over them as he tries to understand the whole picture. Little pieces begin to creep back into his mind. Pain. So much pain. The sound of his own screaming resounds in his mind like an alarm bell. Then a face. A face that’s very important to him. A face that he’s desperately trying to remember.

“You’ll be happy to know that he’s been eliminated,” Kix says with a reassuring smile. Tup is pulled from his wandering thoughts. “And she’s safe.”

Tup scrunches his brows together and forces his brain to think. She. Who is she? He closes his eyes and tries to remember, searching the recesses of his mind. Then he hears it. The sound of your voice, broken and terrified. A sound he thought he could never forget, but he did. He forgot about you. The memories of your life together flood into his mind like a broken dam. The sound of you crying and the sound of you begging that monster to let him go, it churns his stomach.

It’s all backwards. He was supposed to protect you, but ultimately, you protected him. This isn’t right. None of it. What is wrong with him? Why couldn’t he take him? Why couldn’t he protect you? What kind of soldier does that make him? What kind of a man does that make him? The destructive thoughts infect his mind, taking root in every corner of his psyche, smashing his pride and crushing his ego into little tiny pieces of worthless dust. A failure, that’s what he is.

Kix watches and waits for Tup to respond to the good news, but he doesn’t. The lack of response concerns Kix for a moment, but perhaps the pain medicine was a little much for his system and he didn’t hear him the first time. “He’s dead and she’s safe,” Kix repeats a little louder.

How?

Kix finds the first question odd, but he rolls with it. “Fives, Echo, and Jesse went on a manhunt, killed him, and rescued her,” Kix begins to explain.

Tup rolls his eyes, and Kix takes notice. Of course someone else had to save his girlfriend, Arc troopers no less. The strongest and bravest of all the clones. Tup scoffs at himself in his mind, thinking about his pathetic attempt at protecting you and then failing in the most horrific way possible. Not only did his girlfriend have to bribe the offender to let him go, but he can’t even get the satisfaction of killing the scum himself. It’s humiliating, another man finishing his fight and saving his woman.

“Even with the three of them in full kit, it wasn’t easy to take him down,” Kix explains further. He realizes that something isn’t right with Tup’s reaction. He can’t fully place it, but he has a hunch, and it has him worried. “According to Fives, he took a blaster shot to the chest and kept moving. I’m still baffled how you went up against this guy alone and survived with no protection.”

Luck.

Kix chuckles half-heartedly at the short answer. “Must be.”

Who was he?

Kix pauses and wonders where this line of question is leading. “They ran him through facial recognition and it turns out he was known as the Clone Killer,” Kix explains with a shocked expression. “He was wanted in several planetary systems for killing at least fifty clones, but he’s dead now. Fives made sure of that.”

Tup huffs through his nose and Kix furrows his brows. Of course it was Fives. He doesn’t want to hear about the ARC trooper’s heroic rescue of his girlfriend or how Fives killed the man responsible. They’re probably already dating each other at this point if he’s been unconscious for five rotations. He doesn’t blame her. He wouldn’t want to be with him either, seeing as he’s so useless. She’s better off with an ARC trooper protecting her. She’s better off without him.

“She’s here if you want to see her,” Kix mentions with a smile in an attempt to cheer him up and bring the conversation back to being about you.

No.

“No?” Kix questions. Now he’s really confused and concerned about what’s going on in Tup’s brain. “What do you mean, no?”

No.

“You do remember who she is, right?” Kix asks, double checking that the concussion didn’t wipe out all of his memories.

Yes.

“Then why don’t you want to see her?” Kix continues, still shocked by Tup’s apathetic responses.

Tup doesn’t answer, but instead looks away from Kix. He doesn’t want his brother to see the humiliation and embarrassment growing on his face. He doesn’t have to explain his reasoning. He doesn’t have to share his deepest fears or his radical insecurities that all of a sudden moved in and kicked his old confident self out. This is his problem, his fight, and his battle. His other fight was stolen from him, so this one he’s going to keep all to himself and wage on his own.

Kix raises an eyebrow and studies Tup for a moment, his hunch becoming more and more apparent at the silent treatment he’s receiving. “Oh, I see,” Kix says knowingly while crossing his arms. “Your pride got hurt, didn’t it? Because you couldn’t save your girlfriend and someone else did.”

Tup turns his head and glares at Kix as he sees right through him. Kix’s intuition and blatant disregard for his privacy makes him angry. His reasons are none of Kix’s business. How dare he say it out loud with such disdain in his voice, mocking him as he lies helpless in a hospital bed. He didn’t ask to be saved and he didn’t ask for Kix to psychoanalyze his private thoughts. This whole situation is ridiculous, meaningless, and he wants to be left alone.

“I don’t see what you’re so upset about,” Kix says in bewilderment. “You walked away from this with your life. You could’ve died.”

Should have.

Kix rubs his hand across his mouth and huffs in disbelief. He gets up from his chair, walks to the side of the bed, and lowers his face down to be eye to eye with Tup. “You listen to me and you listen well,” Kix begins with a stern voice. “I didn’t save your life so you could lie here and brood about your fragile masculinity. I don’t care about your feelings and I don’t care about your pride or your dignity or your ego. I only care that your heart keeps beating and your lungs keep breathing. So suck it up trooper.”

Tup scrunches his face into the best sneer he can make in response to Kix’s fiery words.

“So, that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” Kix says as he straightens up and shakes his head. “Well, I’ll let everyone know you’re awake and that you don’t want any visitors. Rex and the others have only been sitting in that waiting room for five rotations waiting for you to wake up, but by all means, wallow here alone in your own self-pity.”

Kix turns to leave and Tup throws the data-pad at his back. It hits without much force and clatters against the tiled floor.

Kix takes a deep breath, whips around, and glares back at Tup in anger. “I swear, if you weren’t already broken, I’d break you myself!”

Kix grabs the data-pad off the floor and lays it on the counter. He then leaves the room, slams the door behind him, and leans his back against it. He sighs and brings his hands up to rub his face. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, traumatic injuries never are, but he wasn’t expecting this type of reaction, and definitely not to this severity level. If this is any indication of how the rest of the recovery will be, it’s going to be a hard-fought and bumpy road for everyone.

Kix thinks about his options and decides the next best course of action is to let everyone know Tup’s awake and alert. He meanders his way through the sterile hallways, medics and orderlies rushing past him as he thinks about how to explain Tup’s condition. He can use all his medical knowledge and verbiage to make it sound less impactful, or he can just come out and say it and wait for the shock factor to wear off, like ripping a bandaid off.

He rounds the corner to the waiting room, pauses, and takes a step back into the corridor. He smiles fondly. A sea of white and blue all tangled together with you at the center. You’re sitting sideways in one of the waiting room chairs, head leaning against Rex’s shoulder with your legs outstretched on Jesse’s lap. Jesse, Echo, and Fives are leaning against each other, while Hardcase and Dogma are leaning peacefully against Rex.

The image is almost too pure to disturb so he pulls out his data-pad to snap a holo-photo of the moment. Maybe showing it to Tup will help him understand how valued and loved he truly is. Kix looks at the holo-photo and smiles. They may be clones, and viewed as a subhuman species to most, but their bond as brothers is the strongest force in the universe. No one messes with one of their brothers and gets away with it. If no one else will protect them, they must do it themselves.

Kix sighs and braces himself to deliver the news. He walks into the waiting room, approaches Rex, and gently rouses him from his sleep. Rex blinks and straightens himself up to stretch his shoulders, which starts a cascading effect of waking the others around him. You stir as your head dips from Rex moving his shoulder, which causes you to kick Jesse and wake him. One by one, each trooper stirs from their slumber and stretches out their cramped bodies.

“What’s the news?” Rex sleepily asks as he rubs his face.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Kix asks in return.

You startle at the idea of bad news, but Kix stretches out his hand to assure you that the bad news isn’t terrible news. You still wonder what kind of bad news you’re up against. Ever since you were taken, your only reality was that Tup was dead, but after your rescue, you had hope that he was going to survive. “What’s the good news?” you ask, thinking that it will help you get through whatever bad news may come next.

“Tup is awake, alert, and he doesn’t seem to have any permanent brain damage,” Kix answers.

Several sighs of relief and ‘thank the Maker’ erupt from the group. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in as tears fall from your eyes. Rex rubs your back for reassurance and comfort. Every day of waiting with no answers was painful as you desperately wished for Tup to wake up. There were no guarantees that he would or that if he did wake up, he wouldn’t be catatonic or brain dead. To hear that he’s awake and alert is the greatest news you could ask for.

You look up at Kix and mouth ‘thank you’ to him as the words can barely escape your mouth through the rolling tears of joy. Kix wants to smile, but the other half of his news won’t let him. He doesn’t want to destroy your little bit of joy by sharing about Tup’s spiraling mental health, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. That’s the double-edged sword of being a medic. He has to deliver good news and bad news. He can’t pick and choose which one to give.

“What’s the bad news?” Rex asks cautiously, a twinge of nervousness in his voice.

Kix rubs the back of his neck and tries to formulate his words carefully. “Tup,” Kix begins, but then pauses again before continuing. “Physically, his recovery is progressing as well as expected, but mentally…” Kix trails off as he thinks about his words. “Traumatic events like this one can alter a person’s psychological state, so mentally…” Kix pauses again, struggling for the first time to get words out. “Mentally he’s not doing well.”

“What do you mean, mentally?” you ask in concern. “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“Well, yes and no,” Kix answers in hesitation as his tone goes high and low with the words. “He’s struggling with his self-worth.”

“Self-worth?” you repeat in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Spit it out, Kix,” Rex demands.

Kix sighs and puts all his cards down on the table. “He’s angry at himself about what happened and doesn’t think he deserves to live.”

“What?!” you retort in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous! Of course he deserves to live!”

“Not according to him,” Kix breathes out as he rubs his forehead.

“Can I see him?” you ask, determined to knock some sense into your boyfriend.

Kix frowns. “He doesn’t want any visitors.”

“He doesn’t want to see me?” you repeat quietly with disappointment as your eyes threaten to release more tears.

“Wait a minute, hold on, back up,” Fives interjects, astonishment dripping from his words. “We went through absolute hell to save him and her, and kill the man responsible, and he doesn’t want to see us?!”

“Like I said,” Kix starts calmly. “His mental state is extremely unstable.”

“That doesn’t sound like Tup,” you whisper as you think back to your happy-go-lucky boyfriend and his playful demeanor.

“This type of mental shift isn’t uncommon for trauma survivors,” Kix explains, trying to sound as compassionate and realistic as possible. “It changes people. He may not be the same man you remember, and he may never be that man again.”

The room goes quiet as somber thoughts float around like dandelion seeds caught in a breeze. No one can imagine a different Tup than the one they know so well. He’s always been bright, cheery, playful, and a bit of a tease to his batchmate Dogma. The idea that the Tup they know could be gone forever is a hard pill to swallow, especially for you. To think that your happy life was ripped away in one night is almost too much to bear.

“I want to see him,” you assert as you stand up from your chair.

“That’s not a good idea,” Kix warns while shaking his head.

“I don’t care,” you argue, your emotions cracking through your voice. “I need to hear it from him.”

“We’ll go with you,” Echo adds as he stands up and gestures to Fives and Jesse.

“That’s definitely not a good idea,” Kix emphasizes while putting up both hands.

“Are you going to try and stop me?” you ask as you take a few steps towards Kix and look him in the eyes.

Kix tries to look away, but your conviction catches his gaze. He sighs. “I can’t stop you if you’re determined. I can only strongly advise against it.”

You nod that you understand the risks and are willing to take them.

“However,” Kix cautions, his voice turning serious. “His health is my top priority and I will remove you, any of you, if you aggravate his condition.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you acknowledge, fully embracing the terms of the visitation. You look back towards Echo, Fives, and Jesse and they give you nods of agreement.

As much as the rest of the group wants to see Tup, they stay behind in the waiting room, content in knowing that their brother is awake and out of immediate danger. Rex gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder and you return the gesture with the best smile you can form. You take a deep breath then follow Kix down the corridors, staring at your reflection in floor tiles as you stroll along. The three Arc troopers trail along behind you for the silent walk to Tup’s room.

You wonder what you’ll say to him. You’ve had some time to think about it since your rescue, the thoughts you want to express. Your gratitude, your fear, your love, your elation, all of it. You want to tell him everything and not spare any details. He’s in that hospital bed because of you after all, so it’s the least you can offer him. It should have been you, not him. You barely have a scratch on you, which only fuels your anger at yourself for Tup’s condition. He’s not worthless, not to you.

You finally reach his room and Kix stops in front of the door as he mentally prepares himself to walk inside. You decide to fortify yourself too. Kix said Tup’s not the same man as before, but you don’t know what that means. You don’t know what that looks like and you’re not entirely sure you want to know, but you need to know, even if it hurts. Even if he spits in your face and tells you to walk away, you need to know who he is now. You need to know how to love him where he’s at.

You take a deep breath as Kix opens the door and brace yourself. You haven’t seen him since you were in the alley. The last image you have of Tup is him hanging, bloody and lifeless from your stalker’s grip. Your breath quickens and your anxiety spikes as you step into the sterile hospital room. The heart monitor beeps steady and rhythmically, a good sign that he’s relaxed, and as you come around Kix, you finally get your first glimpse of Tup and it breaks your heart.

His entire body is wrapped in bandages, with limbs casted and suspended in the air using pins screwed into joints attached to wires that coil around pulleys. Several IV bags hang on a nearby pole with different fluids dripping through the catheter into his neck. What can be seen of his face is bruised and swollen from his dislocated jaw. The setup looks archaic and almost barbaric, like a scene out of horror holo-film, but it must be necessary if this is what Kix decided.

You cautiously step closer to the bed, with Jesse, Fives, and Echo hanging back alongside Kix to give you a little privacy. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry, that you would be strong for him, but looking at his immobilized body and listening to the beeping monitors threatens to break your resolve. You look back at Kix for reassurance, and he gives you an affirming nod. You walk around to the other side of the bed, to where Tup’s hand is free, and gently place yours atop his.

Tup startles at the sudden touch and you flinch in response to his jerk, but you don’t remove your hand. You brush your thumb along the back of his knuckles in a soothing manner. He slowly turns his head to see who’s touching him and to his surprise, it’s you, smiling down at him with those beautiful eyes he instantly and intimately recognizes. For a moment his heart leaps knowing that you’re alright, that you’re safe, but he lets the feeling fade into his abyss of despair.

“Hey,” you say softly when you notice his eyes are on you. You almost lose your composure with just one word.

He doesn’t answer.

“Oh, yeah,” Kix says under his breath as he realizes Tup can’t communicate. Kix grabs the data-pad off the counter and brings it over to you. “You’ll need this if you want to talk to him.”

Tup glares at Kix for ignoring his wishes. Kix glares back. “Keep it on the bed this time.”

“Thanks,” you say as you grab the data-pad from him. You set it down next to Tup’s hand and wait eagerly for his response.

Leave.

Your heart sinks at the cold solitary word. “What?” you ask in confusion. The first thing he tells you when you finally get to see each other again, is ‘leave’? That can’t be right. Maybe he misspelled ‘love’. That must be it. There’s no reason for him to make you leave, not when you haven’t had a chance to tell him how happy you are to see him alive. You chuckle playfully. “I can’t leave. I just got here.”

Leave.

“Tup,” you say as your smile turns into a worried frown. You search his amber eyes, pleading for him to tell you more. “I’ve missed you.” You put your hand back on top of his and he pulls away from your touch.

Leave.

You hold back your tears as you realize Kix is telling the truth. This isn’t the Tup you remember. This isn’t the Tup that you went on dates with, laughed with, baked with, or made love with. This Tup you don’t know. It isn’t just the endless amounts of bandages or pain medication. No. His cold gaze and lifeless demeanor; this isn’t the same man that you held hands with five rotations ago. “Tup, please,” you plead with a strained voice. “Talk to me.”

Tup averts his gaze and moves his head to look at the other side of the room, and that’s when he sees them. The real heroes. The real clones. The real men. The men that did what he couldn’t. The men who protected you and saved you from your attacker. It’s like a fairytale dream where the princess is saved from the evil monster by the handsome prince, except it’s not him. He didn’t even get a chance to audition for the lead role in his own story and it broke him.

“Tup,” you call to him, hoping to get his attention back on you.

He wishes you would stop saying his name. It sounds disgusting and he doesn’t want your forced pity. It’s embarrassing enough to have you standing there, gawking at his broken body, but to hear you say his name with such sympathy is demeaning. The more he thinks about it the more his anger builds. Anger at himself, anger at you, and anger at the ARC troopers who had the gall to stand in his hospital room and gloat about their triumphant victory. It makes him sick.

Get out.

You finally let your tears fall as your heart shatters into a million pieces. He really doesn’t want to see you, but that’s what you wanted right? To hear it from him? To prove Kix wrong, thinking that you knew Tup enough that he would get one good look at you and he would somehow go back to normal? And now you have your answer, but it isn’t the answer you wanted. It isn’t the answer you hoped for. The nightmare continues, rolling like a stone beaten by a river.

Unable to watch the emotionally depressing scene play out any longer, Fives decides to intervene and bring his two cents to the table. Kix tries to stop him, but Fives is a force to be reckoned with when he’s determined. He doesn’t understand Tup’s attitude at all. He was there at the scene of the crime. He saw his brother’s bones, felt his ripped flesh, and bathed in his blood. He watched the footage, he knows what happened, and it fueled his ravenous revenge.

“Hey!” Fives says forcefully as he approaches Tup and gestures at your tear stained face. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re not supposed to make her cry!”

Not your business.

“All of this is my business,” Fives huffs and crosses his arms. “If it wasn’t for Echo and I, you’d be dead in that dumpster.”

Rather be.

“I’m sorry, what?” Fives questions as he furrows his brows in confusion. “That’s a really strange way of saying thank you.”

For what?

Fives scoffs in disbelief and starts to wonder if Kix is right. “What do you mean ‘for what’? How about thanks for saving your sorry shebs!” Fives points at you. “And hers!”

Didn’t ask.

Fives’ jaw drops, completely baffled at Tup’s response. His anger builds as he remembers every moment of fear he and the others suffered as they waited and prayed to whatever deity would listen that their beloved little brother would wake up. After everything they did, after everything he did, to have Tup dismiss him like this, pains every part of his being. “Do you even know the levels of hell we’ve been through?!” Fives seethes. “Everything I did was for you!”

Usen’ye.

Fives’ blood boils as he narrows his eyes and scrunches his nose, losing the last bit of composure he had. “Why you little, ungrateful piece of–”

“I think that’s enough for today,” Echo interrupts as he stands between Fives and Tup.

“But–” Fives protests.

“Leave it,” Echo interjects sternly. “He’s not himself, and we don’t need you to make things worse.”

Fives grunts in frustration and turns around to leave, bumping Jesse’s shoulder hard as he storms out of the room. Jesse looks at Kix in bewilderment and Kix just shakes his head and sighs. He tried to warn them, but they didn’t listen. Tup’s mental shift hurts him too, but he doesn’t have the time or the emotional capacity to process it like they do, not when he has to deal with it on a daily basis. It’s going to take time and the only thing any of them can do is wait.

Echo walks over to you and puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t we let him get some rest.”

Realizing there’s nothing more you can do, you nod your head in agreement. You offer Tup another smile, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “I love you,” you whisper in hopes your words will somehow get through to him, but they don’t. You slump your shoulders and turn away as tears prick the corner of your eyes. The Tup you once knew and loved is gone and it breaks your heart.

Echo stays behind for a second and stares down at Tup. “You may be angry with him,” he begins calmly. “But you’ll never know what it was like to see Fives drenched in blood.”

Tup avoids Echo’s eyes, training them straight ahead and staring into nothingness. He doesn’t want to hear it, any of it. He doesn’t care what sob story they made up to condone their actions. It doesn’t matter to him. It hurts. It hurts more than anyone will ever know, more than he can ever express through a data-pad or spoken word. The pain in his heart is unbearable and the only way he can placate it is by shutting everyone out, because only then can no one hear him cry.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

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notjustjavierpena · 1 year ago

Note

Hey! I was- still am obsessed with Switch and tbh, I kinda began yearning for something a previous anon mentioned. What if reader ends up pregnant and both agree on an abortion? I know it's a sensitive topic and you don't have to write anything like it at all if it's a nono, but I wish Joel would have been with me when I went to the clinic. I really missed the comfort and reading something like that would kinda heal a big wound for me, I haven't seen auch a fic anywhere. Again, no pressure, I think anon had a good idea there.

A/N: I made this very short because I wanted to do it tastefully and without too many details. I debated whether to write it because this author (it’s me, i’m the author) got a full hysterectomy three months ago and I still feel a little puzzled by the whole hospital experience. Additionally, this is a continuation of Switch, but it won’t be a canon part of my DBF universe since my Joel would never continue the relationship with reader after this. It would be a deal-breaker. Furthermore, I wasn't completely sure that this suited the mood of my blog :')

Tags: Angst, hospitals, implied abortion, dbf!joel

Word count: 472

Dbf!Joel x f!reader

You wake up in a hospital bed with eyes so tired that they make your eyelids sting, nausea present in your empty stomach. It’s all a blur of white, painful and sterile, causing you to look around with slight confusion and panic.

“You’re awake, let me get a nurse,” Joel’s voice makes you instantly cry from relief. He is just about to leave the tiny hospital room, but stops dead in his tracks as soon as he hears the same sniffles as he had on the phone not long ago when you had told him you were pregnant.

Were pregnant.

He hates to be the one who makes you cry.

Whipping around, he goes to stand by your bed. Instinctively, he reaches out to run a hand over your hair in the most parental of ways and it soothes you whilst you push away the thought of how twisted this is.

“Shh,” he coos, using his knuckles to wipe away a tear that’s on its way down into your ear, “S’alright, baby girl. Everything went according to plan. Nothing to be scared of anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, Joel, I didn’t know who else to bring,” you sob, certain that the pain meds have upped your emotional reaction because your crying turns absolutely uncontrollable.

Joel feels worse than after any gut punch. He leans down over you, but only slightly so as to make eye contact. His voice is firm but soft, “Listen. It’s okay. Alright? Breathe. You’ll be okay. What were you supposed to do? Go alone?”

You shake your head, fresh tears running down your cheeks so fast that Joel cannot catch them. You avoid his eyes.

“No no, look at me.”

You force yourself to stare up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, and oh fuck, does he mean it, “This— this, us, can’t happen again. We don’t have to ever speak of it.”

That hurts you more than you thought it would, and you frantically shake your head, “No, no, Joel, no. I don’t want you to leave me hanging.”

How do you tell him that he had made your loneliness a distant memory when you had been in his arms?

He says your name with a sigh, but you pull him down for a kiss suddenly. You hadn’t kissed during your meeting (You aren’t sure what else to call it) in your room. It takes Joel by surprise, even more when he finds himself kissing you back ever so softly.

“No, we can’t,” he pushes gently at your chest to stop himself from feeling anything more, and you untangle yourself from him with disappointment. He swears under his breath, fist clenched by his side.

“But Jo–”

“Let me get that nurse.”

You stare down at your hands from where you are lying, not knowing where this’ll go.

#my writing #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader

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kate-les-bridge-stewart · 2 years ago

Text

Ok so I saw this gif:

and I guess I had a stroke or something cus now I wanna make a fanfic where the Dhawan master steals the sad blood robot and befriends it.

For those who dont know this was part of an art exhibit called "cant help myself" where the robot is surrounded by a pool of fake blood. Its programmed to constantly push the blood so it stays within a certain radius of itself. The thing is over time people saw the robot start to fling the blood around and act erratically. As time went on the robot started basically having an existential crisis, flailing its arm around randomly, giving up on trying to keep the pool contained, and just generally being really panicked. The project concluded when the artists came in and shut the robot down after 3 years.

Naturally I feel very strongly about this little robot babygirl and so heres a dumb scuffed crack fic treated seriously

---

The robot began to quietly hum as it slowly powered on now that it was hooked up to a power supply again. Its scoop twisted slightly as it woke from its sleep.

"Oh, good you're awake! Just let me-"

Suddenly the robot began loudly hissing and whirring as it flailed its arm in a panic. The master jumped to his feet realizing he should've seen this coming.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Easy buddy, easy!"

The robot flicked its scoop which accidentally splattered a deep red fluid across the masters chest. He stumbled back a bit before looking down at his now stained vest, his face drooping a bit in disappointment. He snapped his attention back to the robot, he could deal with his clothes later.

"Slow down ok, listen to me," the master spoke gently but firm.

The robot eventually slowed down and turned its scoop in the masters direction, though its arm was reeled back as if it thought the master would attack it at any moment. It was even visibly shaking in fear.

"That's it. Now listen, I know you're scared, you're in a completely new place but I assure you that you're safer here than you were before. Now, just hang tight for a minute while I finish hooking this up. It might tingle a little but it's just going to allow you to talk to me, if you know how that is..."

The master went back to the computer which was suspended from the ceiling. He tapped away on the keyboard, the clicks of the keys echoing off the gray walls and black linoleum floor.

The room was small and empty except for the robot in the center and the hanging computer, all illuminated with a soft warm light that was easy on the eyes. The robot had been messily hooked up to an electrical outlet on the floor next to it, its cables tangled and strewn about.

"There, now I should be able to read your thoughts," the master stood back and folded his arms, facing the robot and occasionally looking at the computer monitor.

The robot was hunched with its scoop facing the master, like a skittish starving dog cowering in the corner of a kennel.

"I'm gonna assume that big mop is like your face? Now I'm curious, where are your visual sensors?" He started walking towards the robot but it reeled back and began to shake again, prompting the master to stop after two steps.

"Ah, right. Probably should wait until you've settled," he grimaced slightly.

"Well I'm gonna leave you be for a while so you can get used to your new home. I'll be back in..." he glanced at his watch, "let's say an hour. I'd say that's a good amount of time."

The master turned on his heel to exit the room but he froze at the sound of a ping from the computer. He turned back and took 2 long strides to the monitor.

On the screen was a black background with green text formatted like a DOS terminal. There was a new message on the screen written in chinese. The system began automatically translating the characters and soon the English message appeared.

05/20/2016 13:34 > Where am I?

The master stared at the monitor in awe for a moment.

"Oh wow! You took to that awfully quick!" He smiled up at the robot who continued staring at him. Somehow despite not having a face the master couldn't shake a feeling that the robot was glaring at him.

"Well first of all, you can call me the Master. I've brought you to my humble abode I call the tardis. I'm sure you'll come to really get along with her, shes a reliable old beauty and she'll love your new company!"

The tardis hummed warmly at the masters comment, causing the robot to look up at the ceiling searching for the source of the sound.

A new message appeared on the screen.

05/20/2016 13:36 > was. That her?

"Yep! She can actually talk you see, she's kind of a robot like you, except much, much bigger and older and-... well you'll get to know her eventually."

05/20/2016 13:36 > you live in a robot?

"Well, I did say kind of for a reason, heh. She's a lot of things," he looked up at the ceiling with a suggestive grin, "and all of them are gorgeous."

The tardis whirred rapidly as if she was giggling.

When the master turned his gaze back to the robot it was staring at him with its scoop tilted slightly, looking confused.

"Oh yeah, you'll have to get used to that, we just can't help but flirt."

The robot leaned forward but paused, lifting its head a pinch before subtly shaking it in resignation.

Somehow the master felt just the tiniest sting from its judgement. Was he getting kink shamed by a robot?

"Uh- anyway! So I dont actually think you have a name, what would you like to be called?" He folded his hands and leaned forward with an expectant smile.

The robot stood still for about 2 minutes, the computer remaining silent.

Finally the robot sunk a little and a new message appeared on the screen.

05/20/2016 13:41 > I... I don't know.

"Well that's not the best name now is it?" He put his hands on his hips as he frowned sarcastically. "I'm joking, dont worry love. Now let me think of some names for you."

He pondered for a bit, rubbing his beard as he glared at the ground and tapped his foot.

"Oh! How about Sigma? It's my favorite greek letter you know, I just think it looks lovely!"

05/20/2016 13:43 > what does it look like?

"Oh, right. You've probably never seen it," he looked up at the ceiling again, "honey, would you be a dear and show our guest what Sigma looks like?"

On the computer screen a url popped up which then opened as an image on the next line.

The image was projected to the robot's mind to which it tilted its head in mild interest.

"See? Doesnt it look so clean and sleek?"

05/20/2016 13:44 > that's called "sigma"?

The master nodded.

05/20/2016 13:44 > it does look nice...

05/20/2016 13:44 > I like it.

The master clapped with a cheeky smile, "fantastic!! So from now on I will call you Sigma! Ugh I'm such a genius with names aren't I?" He practically danced around like a high school theater kid.

The robot simply stared in slight confusion.

The tardis hummed and her voice echoed in Sigma's mind.

"Dont mind them, they do odd things like this all the time."

"Anyhow, I think I'll let you get settled and maybe get to know my lovely tardis a bit. If you need me just pop a message and I'll respond through text if I can. I'll be over in the kitchen fixing myself some matcha."

And with that he left the room.

Despite still being on edge and nervous about this whole new arrangement, Sigma began to feel something different, something unfamiliar.

They felt calm.

There was no more nagging at its sensors demanding that they mop up the fluid. Jo more gawking onlookers and dead stares from soulless art critics. No more blinding light against stark white floors and walls. No more panic, no more stupid dancing for an uninterested crowd.

No more red.

#doctor who #dhawan!master #dhawan master #spy master #spy!master #dw fanfic #cant help myself

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missamyshay · 9 months ago

Note

Talk Shop Tuesday: does it bother you when your fellow fanfic writers start to read your WIPs and comment and then stop commenting mid-fic?! Do you get self conscious as to why that would be the case?!

🤔

This is a very unique question and I am very interested in what made you ask it!!

I think, as a writer who enjoys interaction on my fics, and also as someone who has a pretty good memory, I usually notice when any regular commenter stops commenting. I also notice when people who used to comment suddenly switch to just leaving kudos, and when people who used to leave kudos stop interacting at all. But I’m well aware that fandom and readership can be fickle and I don’t tend to dwell on it too much.

Perhaps when it’s a writer friend I’m a little more inclined to wonder what the reason might be, BUT! Two things: 1) people stop/pause reading for many different reasons—I, for one, tend to read and comment in blocks. I read a few chapters, pause (because, life) then come back to it when I can. Because someone pauses doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the story. And most importantly, 2) I am a FIRM believer that you have the complete power to decide what worlds you want to enter and how long you want to stay in them for. If a story I’m telling suddenly doesn’t vibe with you, whether you’re an anon on the internet or my best friend, I am completely okay with that. You can tap out whenever you want and it’s no hard feelings. Perhaps it might make me consider the story I’m writing a little more, but for the most part, I’ll continue to tell the story I set out to tell and maybe I’ll encounter that person again in the next fic I write—and I’ll still be just as happy to see them.

Talk Shop Tuesday

#talk shop tuesday!

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equustenebris · 2 years ago

Text

WIP Wednesday - 1/4/2023

IT'S TECHNICALLY WEDNESDAY adsfkjdsfhj I am so tired

SO uhhh I've been yet again working on nothing at all that I'm SUPPOSED to be working on (like fluffy wintery prompts and my freaking ESO fic ahhh), but apparently I just couldn't help myself and I'm writing a follow-up to my last DCA drabble. It is. it is very much out of hand. as in at least 3x longer than I ever intended and it's still going. girl help. girl i am drowning. girl--

So anyway here's a snippet that I liked so far! Reader is at their friend Tim's house to babysit his kids.

She's obviously a bit taken aback; a bank manager is certainly not as used to dealing with animatronics as you (and now Tim) are, and Sun can already be a bit...much. You step forward ahead of Sun to put some space between them. "Sun, this is Laura."

"Sun?" she asks, a bit incredulous. Sun steps inside and pulls his hood down, rays springing out. "...ahh. Okay. I see it."

Tim stifles a snicker and shuts the door behind Sun. "Girls! The babysitters are here!"

There's a soft pitter-patter of rushing feet before Avery stops sharp at the threshold of the living room, Bailey quickly joining her at her side, as they both gaze up (up, up) at Sun. "...whoa."

He gasps, theatrically loud, and immediately bends over, instinctively trying to drop the height difference between them. "Hiiii!" he crows, waving enthusiastically. "Heeello, new friends!"

"What happened to your face?" Bailey asks abruptly, pointing to the gap where his melted rays should be. You tense and go to respond, but Sun is faster, instantly pulling himself up with a twirl, nearly ballerina-like.

"Dramatic pirate battle!" he exclaims, suddenly leaping into a swashbuckling pose. You're pretty sure this might be one of his old theater stories he sometimes mocked up for the daycare kids. "They took one with their cutlass and another lost to the sharks! But it's a small price to pay, I fought my way out and took back my ship from the filthy scoundrels!"

Bailey looks confused, studying him over. "There was a fire, he was hurt," Tim answers softly, honest but a little firm, obviously trying to convey the gravity of that to her. Bailey gasps and covers her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she yelps suddenly.

"Always listen to your parent's instructions when using the stove!" Sun chirrups, bright and unbothered.

Some babysitting hijinks happen. At least I presume they do, that part isn't written yet. :P But later on in the same fic we'll finally get to see another familiar face...

Moon always hated distractions at naptime, so you'll have to play this carefully. "Moony," you try, and this time his faceplate cocks sharply to the right as he takes a bounding step forward. He's at the end of the bed now, too close, much, much too close. You swallow hard and try again. "Their daddy's got to know we put them to bed now. So, uh. So he doesn't wake them up when he gets home. I need to text him so he knows to be quiet." There's no response, so you try again, hoping your intent is clear and your shaking voice does not betray you. "I'm gonna get my phone out now, okay?"

There's a long pause, before he finally hisses out, "Sleeeeeep." You slowly, agonizingly slowly pull your phone from the pocket of your pants and type the quickest text you've ever sent in your life.

Power outage. Put girls to bed. Moon is here. 🔦🔦

You pray it'll be enough to get your point across but vague enough that it won't raise suspicion if Moon decides to read it. "There," you announce, and apparently you didn't have to worry about Moon reading it, as no sooner is the word out of your mouth than Moon grabs your phone crunched between two fingers and tosses it off somewhere in the bedroom.

"Lights off," he tells you. He clearly permitted the one text, but that's obviously going to be your final warning.

#equus writes #wip wednesday #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf security breach #fnaf sun #fnaf moon

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with-love-from-hell · 3 years ago

Text

Sanctuary

{ft. Diavolo}

Part 3 of the Fortification Series (based on this request)

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff

Written for a GN!MC, though the partner is written as male.

WC: ~4.1k

TRIGGER WARNING: Each part contains graphic depictions of various types of abuse, please see specific content warnings for each individual part.

Cw: Physical abuse, strangulation, emotional abuse, emotional neglect, manipulation, gaslighting, graphic violence and gore, catatonia, anxiety, PTSD, vague bath scene, ch. 16 spoilers, urine mention

Series Masterlist

Note: Though I do have a masters degree in Psychology and clinical training in treating survivors of abuse, I am not your therapist, nor is this fic intended to take the place of professional help. If you are experiencing any type of abuse, please seek support from a professional. Utilize the Victim Connect Resource Center to get connected to the appropriate helpline.

Thunder rippled through the night sky, shaking the crystal windows of the Demon Lord’s castle. It had been centuries since the Devildom experienced a storm of this caliber, and the future king couldn’t help but worry about how his precious exchange students were faring. He paced around his office nervously, awaiting Barbatos’ report on whether or not Devildom should follow severe weather procedures.

Diavolo stopped in front of the large windows that overlooked the city and gazed out to the purple sky. Purgatory Hall stood like a beacon in the darkness, the light-colored brick standing out amongst the rest of the brooding architecture in Devildom. His mind wandered to you- wondering if you were alright.

Did thunderstorms scare them back in the human world? It wouldn’t come as a surprise. The ever timid of the three humans seemed to be afraid of their own shadow on most days- making adjusting to life amongst demons particularly hard.

Diavolo sighed, mindlessly tracing his finger on the glass. The condensation left a trail of water droplets along the glass. He hoped you were doing okay with the other exchange students. Simeon had earlier informed him of their intention to hold a small gathering in the lounge at Purgatory Hall, so he knew you must be there. Certainly it was closer than the House of Lamentation...If only he could just sneak out the doors and-

“My lord, If you continue touching the windows, they will streak.” Barbatos appeared in the doorway to his office suddenly, startling the prince. His voice held a firm warning, though Diavolo knew there was little Barbatos could do to him just for dirtying a window with his fingers.

Regardless, he stepped away and turned toward the butler. He put his hands in the pocket of his robe, fidgeting with the loose fabric fibers of the interior. He gave a fake smile that was easily readable, indicating he must be anxious about the weather and the foreign students. Barbatos sighed, his voice taking a softer tone upon recognizing the emotion in his eyes. “Sir, the weather is not severe enough to call for a lockdown, but it would still be unwise for any individual to be out in this type of weather. I suggest you stay here despite your concerns for the exchange students.”

Diavolo blushed lightly. He hated how easily Barbatos could read him sometimes. “Very well.”

As Barbatos turned to take his leave, Diavolo turned back toward the window. Another sigh began to pass his lips, but immediately halted upon seeing a familiar figure stumbling toward the castle, battling the wind and rain as they moved. Though the heavy rain obscured some of his vision, he was able to make out the details of your hair underneath the shall you wrapped tightly around yourself- which looked vaguely like the one Simeon was usually seen wearing.

He immediately turned from the window and bolted through the maze-like castle, blowing past Barbatos and numerous little D’s, who called out to him as he ran past. As he finally reached the main hall, he heard what sounded like the heavy doorknockers pounding against the thick wooden doors of the castle entrance. Diavolo felt his heart skip a beat as he rushed to the doors, flinging them open as quickly as he could.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he finally laid eyes on your form before him. For some reason, he had been so excited to see you- despite the fact that you being out in this weather must not have meant any good news would likely follow. But all the excitement he had faded away when he was met with your petrified eyes. The terror worn on your face was evident, even through the effects of the wind and rain. He stood frozen before you, unsure of how to respond- and your lack of voice did not help matters.

“Young Master, what are you doing?!” Barbatos’ panicked voice manifested from down the hall as he finally caught up to him. Barbatos paused, seeing Diavolo holding the Castle doors ajar as rain whipped into the castle from outside. With a frustrated sigh, Barbatos approached, though the color drained from his face as he saw what- or rather, who- Diavolo had been gawking at.

Barbatos quickly led you inside, offering you to sit on one of the plush benches in the entry way while he fetched some towels. You obliged, but said nothing. Your body trembled with anxiety, adrenalin, and the freezing feeling of the frigid rainwater that had soaked your clothes on the agonizing walk over to the castle.

You had done something to upset your boyfriend. What you did, you had no idea- but the grip he held on your throat as he yelled in your face was enough to tell you you had crossed a line. The occurrence happened often enough that you often lost track of how many times he had put his hands on you in one way or another. You hugged yourself, trying desperately to stop the trembling you experienced in reliving the horrid scene over and over again.

Without hesitation, Diavolo removed his large plush robe and draped it around your shoulders. He would be slightly cold until he could replace the robe with one of his silk shirts, but your comfort was more important to him. You nuzzled into the soft fleece material, finally feeling the emotions from today well up and overflow out of your body. Tears began streaming down your cheeks as you choked back sobs, finally feeling safe enough to express the ache in your heart.

Diavolo widened his eyes, unsure again of how to respond. He tried to think of something to say, but words evaded him as you relentlessly sobbed into his robe. He slowly reached out a large hand, pressing it to your shoulder gently- as if to test your reaction to his touch. When you gave no response, he moved closer to you; eventually enveloping you into a tight embrace as you cried. Diavolo rubbed your back gently cradling you into his bare chest. He offered gentle words of reassurance that you were safe and secure in his arms.

When Barbatos finally re-entered the hall, he was shocked to see you clinging to diavolo. You had been so timid around everyone in Devildom since you got here, but especially the future king. Not that he blamed you for that though- Diavolo was a particularly large demon and was supposed to be intimidating to others. But now, seeing you drape yourself over him in such a vulnerable position had him wondering what led you to this in the first place.

Barbatos motioned for Diavolo to follow, and in one sweeping motion, you were hoisted into the prince’s arms. He wrapped your legs around his mid-section and encouraged you to hold on tightly to his neck as they lead you to a guest bedroom. Once you were set down on the bed, Barbatos noted that they didn’t have any fresh clothes for you, so he would need to dry your current clothes. He also noted that you should take a warm bath regardless to get your body temperature back up, while he would take to making you some calming tea and biscuits.

You tensed at the idea of needing to shed your clothes, but as Diavolo’s robe dampened around you, you knew he was right. Diavolo noted he would get you something to wear while your clothing was dried, but before he could move, you gripped his hand in yours and pulled delicately back.

He paused, seeing the terror-filled glint return to your eyes. “Mc- what do you need?”

You bit your lip for a moment and look down, your damp hair cascading in front of your face. Diavolo tucked some strands back, trying to look into your eyes to figure out what you must be trying to silently convey to him. It was in this moment that he noticed the deep purple bruises lining your neck just under your earlobes. His heart sank at the sight, feeling sorrow bubble up as he realized you had come here to escape something.

Did Lucifer or one of his brothers step out of line again? No- they wouldn’t dare hurt you after what had happened with Belphegor. Perhaps you were cornered by a lower demon? Oh, he absolutely would make them suffer a fate worse than death if they dared lay a hand on you.

A small squeak from your vocal cords caught his attention, and he shook the thoughts away for now as he fully concentrated on you.

“I just...I don’t want to be alone.” You whimper, catching his eyes.

Diavolo nodded, stroking your cheek gently with his hand. “Do you want me to- I mean, I don’t know if you would want me to per say- but shall I accompany you while you bathe? I can ensure to turn away as you undress and pour enough soap into the basin so you’re not as exposed.”

His nervousness betrayed him as he blabbered out the words, feeling them come out of his mouth like vomit. You took a moment to consider his offer, and gave a meek nod. You had been intimidated by him when you first came to Devildom, but as you got to know him and spent one-on-one time with him, you found yourself drawn to how...well... unking-like he was. He knew how to have fun, and was a really just a kid at heart. And his passion for building connections between the worlds was something you admired. He was kind, gentle, and caring- something you were desperate to have in your own relationship. Perhaps it was this longing that brought you to the steps of the castle, rather than back to the HOL with the brothers. You knew the brothers cared about you, but something about Diavolo’s aura always pulled you back in.

As promised, he turned away from you while you undressed and bathed. He sat cross-legged on the floor next to the basin as you relaxed in the warm bath. While he wasn’t trying to gawk at your nude body, he couldn’t help but notice the plethora of scars and bruises on the areas of your skin that was now exposed to air. He found himself connecting the fact that you always wore modest clothing to these scars and bruises- and he was worried about the fact that you did so as long as he had known you. With a deep breath, he finally decided to ask you about it.

He felt his heart pounding deafeningly in his ears as he asked the question. “Mc, may I ask you something?”

You met his stare, anxiousness rising in your chest at his inquiry. “Y-yeah...of course...”

He nodded, dropping his gaze away. “Those bruises...who gave them to you?”

You freeze, staring at him with wide eyes. You had told yourself you hoped he wouldn’t have noticed...but part of you knew that was a lie. You did want him to notice- to rescue you from the abuse you continued to suffer in Devildom- an experience that had persisted in the human world long before with the man you you found yourself entangled with. A deep sigh escaped your lungs as you readied yourself to tell Diavolo about what he had done to you- how cold and distant he always was, how he would manipulate you into thinking everything bad that happened in his life was your fault, how he would take his anger out on you by throttling you until you couldn’t breath, almost killing you numerous times in the same way Belphegor did all those months ago.

Diavolo was absolutely livid at hearing all the tortures you had gone through. He’d have been lying if he said he enjoyed your boyfriend’s company in the exchange program- he always felt something was off about him, and he did notice the ways he would talk down to you a bit in the past, but he never would have guessed it could have been as bad as this. He gripped your soapy hand, and made a promise to you- that you would never have to see that scum again. He would be removed from the program immediately, and you would live the rest of your time in Devildom in relative peace.

As he helped you out of the bath and dried you off, Barbatos came with a smaller dry robe- one that wouldn't completely swallow you in its size. He gifted you your tea and biscuits, and assisted you into bed. Before Diavolo snuck under the covers next to you, he pulled Barbatos aside and whispered to him a command- one that would ensure your continued safety- even after you were no longer in Devildom.

----------------------------------------------------------

As he opened his eyes, the man’s vision needed to adjust to the dark, dank room he was in. He was barely able to make out the dirty brick walls lining the tiny cell he found himself in- the scuttling of demonic rats able to be heard echoing throughout the chambers underneath the castle. He pushed himself up off the floor, teetering as he got to his feet. Had he gotten drunk? did he get knocked out? he couldn’t quite recall.

The distant roar of thunder could be heard in the distance. He had remembered it had be pouring rain- that’s right! He vaguely remembered you running out on him after you had insulted his cooking in front of the angels. The audacity Simeon had in saying no one’s cooking compared to that of Barbatos- and the way you chuckled along with the statement had his blood boiling as if he was in the same situation again.

He wanted to teach you a lesson- one that he had to reiterate over and over again. He was your everything, and you were nothing. To insult him, over step your bounds, or to diminish him in any way was ignoring all he had done for you, and it could not go without reminding. He was much stronger than you, after all. It was pretty easy to put you back in line- thought you were straying a lot more since getting teleported to this shitty world.

The man wrinkled his nose, finally absorbing the scent of mildew in the cellars. The last thing he remembered was being called for a meeting at the demon lord’s castle, but after that his mind was a blur. He remembered having to bear this atrocious weather in order to get here- not understanding why that stupid prince always put people out of their way for his every need. What he wouldn’t give to have that much power...

The sound of a door creaking open and slamming nearby stirred him from his thoughts. He approached what he believed was the cell door, peaking through the small barred window to try to see who- or what- had entered and was now coming toward him. A dim light and some muffled voices could be heard in the distance.

The footfalls could be heard faltering as they approached the cell door. He leaned back, eager for the door to be opened so he could get answers to his questions. A pair of ruby eyes met his through the window on the cell door, and a glint of...something...passed through them. He couldn’t quite tell their intentions, but they looked angry.

The door swung open and the candle illuminated the figure before him. The man scoffed, crossing his arms as he was met with the silhouette of the eldest brother of sin. He beckoned him to exit the cell, but he stood his ground. Of course it had to be this clown.

After a moment of silent stares between the three men, he finally spoke, irritated with the lack of explanation for his current situation.

“So, are you gonna tell me what the hell I’m-”

“Silence.” A deep voice hissed from behind Lucifer. The man snapped his mouth shut, fear suddenly coursing through him as he was met with another pair of eyes. The yellow light of the candle illuminated the golden irises, as well as the gold jewelry adorning the prince’s chest and horns. As he stepped further into the light, the man could see his sharp fangs, piercing white- as if he had just gotten them professionally polished.

The man cleared his throat, attempting to swallow back his fear and the clearly perturbed prince and his henchmen. “W-what do you want from-”

In a flash, Diavolo had the puny human by the neck, slamming him so hard against the brick wall that- not only did his skull crack but the brick behind his head crumbled upon the impact, dust flaring around the room.

“I said, silence.” He hissed again, squeezing his neck harder. The man choked and sputtered as he fought for air, the tips of his shoes desperate to make contact with the ground.

Diavolo scoffed at the human’s refusal to remain quiet as he waited for a status report from Barbatos. While the human was unconscious, Barbatos had taken to interviewing the rest of the brothers, the angels, and Solomon about what they had noticed. He shook his head, figuring the formalities could be forgone just this once.

“You have a lot of nerve, abusing someone you shallowly claim to love.” He snarled through gritted teeth. “Tell me, how long did you think it would be before we caught on?”

Diavolo released his grip slightly on the mans neck, allowing air to enter his lungs. He coughed as he spoke lies through his teeth. “I- I don’t know what y-you’re talking a-about.”

Lucifer let out an unamused scoff. “It appears as if he thinks we’re stupid.”

Diavolo shook his head, his eyes piercing as he stared daggers at the man. “You can deny what you want, but the bruises all over their body tell all.”

The mans eyes widened, realizing that you had fled to the castle that night- probably blabbering to Diavolo what he had done. He cursed under his breath, trying to get the demon lord to relinquish his grasp.

Diavolo smirked, finding it amusing how the small human thought he could just get away with his atrocious actions. He changed his hand’s positions onto the mans hair, dragging him out of the cell as he screamed out in pain. Lucifer looked down on him as he paced behind Diavolo, disgusted with the words he was using to berate the future king. For now, he would restrain himself- but he couldn’t help the evil grin that spread across his lips for the fate this disgusting human would encounter for having ever dared laid hands on a member of his- and through association, Diavolo’s- family.

The man was thrown onto the floor of a larger cell, tears flooding from his eyes as he rubbed the spot where the hair follicles threatened to detach from his head. Before he could process what was happening, the double doors were slammed and he faced the two demons before him. Lucifer stood in the background, seemingly just granting audience to what Diavolo was about to do.

“Now, I will ask you again- Did you really think you could get away with hurting one which I hole dear?” Diavolo smiled, but behind it his eyes shown intense wrath.

The man scoffed, deciding to double down. “I told ya, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

At his refusal to take accountability, Diavolo’s wicked smile turned into a displeased frown. He nodded, walking towards the man with intent. He cracked his knuckles as he moved toward him, and with each approaching step, the man scrambled backwards until he hit the wall. On his attempt to stand, Diavolo hook-kicked his knee, sending the bones cascading through his skin in an instant.

The man howled in pain as he fell to the floor. He tried to coddle his wound, but only screeched louder as the pain increased with his touch.

Diavolo tutted, kneeling before him. “I will give you once more chance to tell the truth, and perhaps I will let you leave peacefully...As long as you promise never to set foot near them again.”

The man glowered at the future king, and boldly decided to spit on his face.

Lucifer snarled, his demon form unfurling as he stepped forward. After wiping the loogie from his cheek with his thumb, he held up a hand to stop Lucifer.

“Hmm. Looks like you’ve dug your grave then.” Diavolo snickered, standing and walking away, soon enough standing side-by-side with Lucifer. The two shared a look before turning back to the human with nefarious smiles, causing his heart to leap into his throat.

“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” He stuttered through ragged breaths, trying to appear more confident than he felt. His pulse quickened as a groaning could be heard in the walls around him, the two demon’s smiles growing wider.

“Well,” Diavolo chuckled darkly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I believe it’s almost Henry’s Dinnertime.”

The man gulped. “H-H-Henry?”

Lucifer turned and opened one of the double doors, motioning for Diavolo to follow, but he shook his head. “You go on- check on Mc and inform Barbatos of my decision. I’d like to stay a moment longer with our former exchange student.” Lucifer looked uncertain, but closed the door silently. His footsteps could be heard in the distance followed by a door opening and closing.

Diavolo turned back toward the human before him. It was hard for him to imagine such a spineless bastard having this much power over you, but he knew that his perspective was different. After all, the human was shown just how powerless he actually was in the face of a demon- the second most powerful to ever even exist.

“It’s a shame, really.” Diavolo mused, tinkering with the friendship bracelet you had made him during the last retreat at the castle. He hadn't taken it off in the months had passed, cherishing the sweet gesture with all of his heart. “I wanted so desperately for us to all have peace. But I am unfortunately reminded how humans can sometimes truly be the scum of the three realms.”

He turned to meet the man’s terrified eyes, relishing in the fact that he got to see him so scared before his ultimate demise. “The humans like you- they deserve to rot. Which is why their souls come here. After your death though- since you already are here- you will just awaken in the mouth of the basilisk again, and be eaten again- over and over. What a truly awful demise, hmm?”

The man gulped upon hearing another groan from the walls of the cell; fear rippling through him so fast that he lost control of his bladder. Diavolo shook his head, a hearty laugh rippling through the chamber as the man pissed himself in fear.

“Do you still feel powerful?” Diavolo growled, leaning into his face as he spoke. “How does it feel to be treated as if you have no more worth than canine feces below a boot?”

Tears welled in the mans eyes as two giant yellow eyes appeared behind the prince, followed by a deep hiss. He begged, pleaded for Diavolo to release him, making promise after promise, and even confessing to the attrocities of what he had done to you.

Diavolo merely shook his head in response. “Tsk. You had a chance to beg for mercy, but truth be told, I never planned on offering a shred of it to you. Perhaps that makes us both liars.”

With the last words that left his lips, Diavolo grinned and spun on his heel. He approached the giant snake. It swayed back and forth, it’s eyes following the prince’s movements, as if waiting for permission to feed. With one last glance at the former exchange student, he whistled.

The snake’s movements were so quick that the man barely had time to react. One moment, he was shaking on the floor in a pool of his own urine, and the next he had large fangs digging into his flesh. He screamed to no avail, begging for help from someone- anyone- who could hear. But no one would come to help him. His body would be consumed, only to be reincarnated in the dungeon where he had died. The basilisk with the insatiable hunger would consume him again....and again...and again...for however long he decided to keep his deal with the reaper girl going. 13 would truly be a wonderful asset to the exchange program to replace the terrible human.

He eagerly paced up the stairs back to the main part of the castle. He had left you slumbering peacefully in the guest room, where he was eager to return to snuggle with you throughout the rest of the early morning hours. Thunder roared and lighting crashed outside the windows providing him an odd sense of calm despite the raging weather. You were safe now, and he was excited to see how you would flourish without the threat of abuse looming over your head like a dark cloud. Perhaps the thunderstorm was a blessing in disguise, as it had offered you sanctuary from the real storm you faced in the shadows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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hiddens-eden · 3 years ago

Text

The Last Tune (Emmett Cullen x Male!Reader) Pt 1

Paring; Emmett Cullen x Male Reader + Cullen Family x Male Reader (PLATONIC)

Warning: Cursing, Abuse, Tramua, Angst

Pronouns; He/Him

Spelling checked; No

Summary; Y/N is a quiet boy that's had his fair share of physical and emotional trauma, so he loves to keep to himself. He barely interacts with anyone unless needed and prefers to listen to music and sketch in peace. So imagine his surprise when some of the most popular kids in school want to be around him! They heard him singing along with his music and were immediately entranced. One of them in particular has his eyes set on him. Though, they are not the only ones who have an interest in Y/N.

A/N; Hello, my little Otaku's! Welcome to my first fic! I hope you enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated! Just be kind! I'm sorry if it seems at all rushed! On my next stories I do plan on switching PoV's so it'll be easier to write and more entertaining. Enjoy!

"Who are they?"a dark haired girl asked her friend that was sitting just across from their lunch table

"Those are some of the most popular people in school, the Cullen's. Not only are they hot as hell, but they're charming to boot! They do disappear for long periods of time, which gives them an air of mystery."

At the Cullen's table, they softly chuckled at the description the new girl was given. After all, it's only natural considering what they are. They are a being talked about in many fantasy tales. Known for their taste for blood. Vampires, a creature of the night that feasts on humans. However, they in particular don't drink human blood

They went back to softly talking to each other, but a few minutes later something caught their attention. A soft voice echoed in their eardrums. It was enchanting and beautiful, it was like nothing they've ever heard of. They all simultaneously started looking around for the source of the pleasant sound when the new girl asked about someone else.

"Who is that?" she asked, pointing to a table where a boy sat by himself

"Oh! That's (Y/N), (L/N)! He doesn't talk much, but when he does, you can't help but feel so tranquil and at peace!"

That caught the vampire's attention, and they whipped their heads to where the brunette was pointing. Noticing that that was where the sound is coming from.

"What do you mean?"

"His voice is so soft, like silk! But it has a sort of firmness to it! That's not the only thing, though. He is so kind, adorable, and smart as well! He even helps who ask for him to tutor them. His personality makes everyone want to be around him!"

That rose some questions in the vampires heads. If he is that well-liked, why is no one sitting near him?

"Then why is he alone?"

~The vampires will have to thank the new girl for asking so many questions~

"Well, whenever people come near him, he gets anxious and tries to get away as soon as possible. Someone grabbed him on accident, and he started having a panic attack, falling to the ground, and hyperventilating."

The Cullen's were a little shocked when they heard this. That wasn't normal for sure

"Holy shit. Was he okay?"

"Yeah, he was sent home early. But, some students saw his face as he was leaving and said that he looked terrified. We think something is going on where he lives, though we can't know for sure" she shrugged

"Once he came to school the next day, he was wearing long-sleeves. I thought it was weird considering he never wore them before, but the rest of the school shrugged it off as it being in the winter months making it reasonable. The person apologized the next day and (Y/N) just said it was fine, and he just likes being alone, so now that's what we do"

Right when the girl finished, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Making everyone get up and start to throw away their trash and head to class. All except one person...

"I don't think he heard the bell" Emmett said

"Gee, none of us would've guessed!" Rosalie responded, causing the other Cullen's to chuckle

Suddenly, Jasper's sight shifted to his wife Alice because he felt her stiffening up, a tell-tale sign of her power activating. The other vampires looked at her as well, waiting for her to relay what she saw. After a little bit she came to and, slowly, turned to Emmett grinning

"Emmett, why don't you go over and tell him class is about to start? Maybe even ask him to tutor you! We all know you need it." she remarked, still grinning

Starting to understand why she was acting like the way she was, Emmett sighed, wanting to protest, but he knew Alice's visions almost always came true, or they would end at the same conclusion.

He made his way over to where the boy was sitting

"Remember not to grab him!" Alice semi-shouted from where she was standing

Emmett waved her off, still approaching (Y/N)

He gently tapped (Y/N)'s shoulder, making the smaller boy jump in surprise and what Emmett can only assume is fear

(Y/N) turned his head around fast enough to give him whiplash and that's when he met the golden eyes of the person that startled him

He took his earbud out before speaking, "I-Is there s-something I can do for you?" (Y/N) asked shakily

Emmett stood there for a moment. He had never seen someone so hot and cute at the same time. The girl was right, too. His voice is the embodiment of angelic. Emmett took this chance to take in all the boys features, from his soft (S/C) skin that reflected the light of the cafeteria. To his intoxicating (E/C) eyes that he could get lost in over and over again. Emmett felt a small pull to (Y/N), and he knew exactly what it meant.

“H-hello? Are you alright?” (Y/N) asked

“I-I um…class is about to start…”

(Y/N) looked at the time and blushed

“So it is…” (Y/N) stood up and started collecting his things “T-thanks for letting me know” (Y/N) stood to leave but was stopped as Emmett stood in front of him

“I was wondering if you could help me study for chemistry? I’m currently failing” Emmett chuckled, rubbing the back of his head

"I-I don't mind, where should we meet?"

"How about the Library after school?"

(Y/N) smiled the slightest bit "Sounds good, now if you don't mind I need to get to class" and with that (Y/N) left the cafeteria heading to his next class. Emmett slowly rejoined his family, still in awe from the recent interaction.

Jasper grinned from the emotions Emmett was emulating

"It seems Emmett is very interested in that guy"

"Hell yeah I am! Did you see him?!"

"We did" Edward answered him, "But"

"But what?" Emmett asked

"I can't read his mind, same with the new girl"

"Does that mean they're a supernatural?" Rosalie asked

"No, they aren't. The new girl is a weird case, but (Y/N) seems to just have fantastic mental walls and barriers. Which is concerning..."

"Then I'll have to break them" Emmett smirked

The rest of the Cullen's let out a collective sigh as they made their way to their respective classes. Still wondering what was going on with the mysterious (Y/N).

The final bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. Students started to funnel out of their classes and into the hallways. Emmett was waiting outside (Y/N)'s classroom, ready to head to the library.

After waiting awhile of waiting, (Y/N) came out of the classroom books and binder in hand

"Hey"

(Y/N) jumped and turned around to see Emmett, a look of relief claimed his face

"You ready to go?"

"Y-yeah"

As they made their way to the library, they made some just talked about their interests and things of that nature, eventually arriving at their destination. After they settled in their seats with the necessary books, they started the study session.

Emmett found it cute, they way (Y/N) would nervously try and help him understand the complex formula's and equations. After a few explanations, (Y/N) sat down and started to work on his homework. Unconsciously, (Y/N) started to sing to himself, making Emmett perk up and look at him.

"You're a good singer"

(Y/N) blushed, "Thanks...but others don't think so..."

"Are you kidding me?!" Emmett stood up, causing (Y/N) to jump a little, "Your voice is amazing!"

(Y/N) blushed at the praise he was given. He'd never been complimented before, so this was new to him.

"Thank you" (Y/N) smiled, making Emmett's cold and dead heart swell with something he's never felt before

"N-no problem" Emmett said before sitting down, and starting to work again, still thinking of that cute-ass smile

Soon, the sun started to set and that was their cue to wrap things up.

"Could you tutor me again tomorrow? If you're free, that is" Emmett asked

"Sure, I should be open. Meet here after school?"

"Deal"

"Then I'll see you tomorrow" (Y/N) smiled at Emmett before walking to his place

To say Emmett was giddy is an understatement. He was over the moon. Not only did he get to be tutored by his adorable mate, but he also got him to open up and be more relaxed around him! He made his way back to his own house and entered with his head still stuck in the clouds. Unaware of the fact that the whole family was sitting in the living room

"It seems that Emmett had an amazing time" Jasper couldn't help but let out his own smile from Emmett's emotions

"Something good happen, Emmett?" Carlisle asked, intrigued by Jasper's comment

"I think he's the one"

"The One?" Esme questioned

Alice snickered, clearly happy that her vision seemed to have came true

"My mate" Emmett replied, still thinking about the fun time he had studying with (Y/N)

"Congrats!! But, make sure you claim him before anyone else!" Esme explained

"He's not an object, Esme" Carlisle chastised

"I know, but humans may not understand their feelings"

"I just have to take things slow. I don't want to scare him off"

~Next Day at School~

"Hey (Y/N)!"

"Hmm? Oh, hey Emmett!" (Y/N) smiled sweetly

As Emmett got closer to (Y/N) he noticed a very distinct smell coming from the boy. "(Y/N) are you alright?" he asked concern lacing his voice

(Y/N) visibly tensed and started to shake slightly. "U-um ye-yeah? I'm f-fine"

Emmett was less than convinced. He needed to know who or what hurt his mate, so he could end it's pitiful existence, then and there. Though, he decided not to add anymore fuel to the fire...yet.

"If you say so. We should head to to class"

"Yeah"

"Are we still on for tonight?"

"If you still want to, then yes" (Y/N) smiled at Emmett causing him to absolutely gush at his adorableness

"Yep! Totally!" (Y/N) chuckled at Emmett's response

While heading to class they just talked about whatever was on their minds. Well, mostly Emmett since (Y/N) is a closed off little bean <3. But, that didn't stop either of them from enjoying themselves. Even once they where in class they softly whispered to each other. Their teacher didn't care much because (Y/N) is a model student and Emmett is a popular kid (you know those teachers that try and get in with the cool kids? Yeah, that's their teacher). When they went their seperate way's for their second block (Y/N) though that was it, like all of the other people he's tutored. He just thought Emmett was being kind and he'd see him after school for their study session. But he was proven wrong at lunchtime.

(Y/N) was eating by himself at a table listening to music and singing along softly when he felt vibrations coming from next to him. He looked over to not only see Emmett, but the whole Cullen entourage in tow. He was shocked to say the very least.

"Can we sit here?"

Collecting himself he responded with a soft "Yeah". The Cullen's then sat down, Emmett sitting on your right and Alice on your left. She squealed and looked twoards you "I've wanted to actually talk to you for a while now! Emmett talks about you and your singing too! I hope I can hear you one day!" This, this was how (Y/N).exe has stopped working. You where an embarassed blushing mess while looking at Emmett in mock betrayal. 'He talks about me?' you thought. He just smirked enjoying your cuteness.

"Ahh!!! He's soo adorable!!" Now you were a even darker red. Only provoking Alice more as she got slightly closer to you. You were about to curl in on yourself when you felt that you were being griped by the waist and pulled into a solid chest.

"Alice, your going to make him explode" Emmett said slightly, just slightly defensive

She laughed "My my what about you then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look down, bonehead" Rosalie butted in amused

Emmett did what she said and saw you an absolute wreck. If a cherry was a person it would be you at this point-

Now he was trying to compose himself. The sight of both of you made everyone at the table start chuckling. After that whole fiasco you got to know Emmett's family and started to enjoy their presence. Something you never really had the pleasure of experiencing...

Over the next few weeks, Emmett did everything he could to be even remotely close to (Y/N). They would do studying sessions at the library, and after they would get something to eat. Well, only (Y/N) did. He thought it was weird Emmett never ate anything, but Emmett assured (Y/N) that he was eating well. They would often go to parks and just have fun too. However, all fun things come to an end. When one day (Y/N) didn't show up to school. Emmett just thought (Y/N) got a cold, but soon days turned to weeks and he was getting worried. He didn't know where (Y/N) lived so he couldn't go to his house and see if he was alright, but one day Carlise came home a little later than usual which was not unnoticed by his family.

"You're back late" Esme commented

"Well there is a teenager in critical condition. He came in with severe lacerations all over his body and what seemed to be marks of repeated tramua as well. He came in a couple of weeks ago and was in a coma until he flatlined earlier this morning" Carlise took off his doctor coat and placed it on the chair making his way to Esme. As he stood next to her he looked over to see his "children" with wide eyes

"Is something wrong?" Carlise asked a bit worried

"When did that patient come into the hospital?" Emmett asked urgently

"(Date). Why?"

With that all of the vampires stood up and started to get ready to go to the hospital

"What's wrong? Where are you guys going?" Esme asked

"That's most likely my mate" Emmett replied, making it clear he was irritated

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Esme rushed everyone out the door and to the hospital

At the hospital, they made their way to the room (Y/N) was at. Once there, Carlisle motioned for Emmett to enter first. Emmett went in and was shocked by what he saw. (Y/N) had many tubes attached to him. His body was wrapped in bandages and his breathing was hitching. Emmett walked over to the resting (Y/N) and reached out for his hand, grasping it softly. He rubbed his thumb over the boy's knuckles in a reassuring manner, then sat down next to the bed, still holding (Y/N)'s hand. He could only think about how much he failed his mate. How could he let this happen? He knew there was something going on, but he did nothing? He turned a blind eye to it all. How can he face (Y/N) when he wakes up? Emmett's thoughts were interrupted by someone's voice

"Who are you?"

"I should be asking you that" Emmett replied

"I'm (Y/N)'s boyfriend"

With that, Emmett's world stopped. Boyfriend? How? Why? Was I to late? Emmett turned to (Y/N) conflicted, but that's when he saw the heart monitor. His heart rate was not that high a while ago.

"Can you leave me with my boyfriend?" (B/F/N) asked harshly

Emmett reluctantly stood up and made his way to the door, but not before taking one last look at (Y/N). Once he was out of the room, Emmett started walking down the hallway back to his family.

"Who was that guy that went in there?" Rosalie went up to Emmett

"Apparently, he's (Y/N)'s boyfriend"

The Cullen's looked at Emmett in sadness and pity, but they noticed something

"You don't seem that bothered about it" Jasper said

"Well, before he came in, (Y/N)'s heart rate was normal, but when he spoke his heart rate rose"

"So, you think-"

"Yeah, his 'boyfriend' must've done that to him"

"That's awful" Esme covered her mouth in shock

"We can't really do anything if we don't have proof though" Alice said irritated

"Then we'll just have to get some" Emmett smirked, making the other Cullen's nod

They made their plan's and put them on hold until you were sent home. In the meantime, Emmett came to visit whenever your 'boyfriend' was never there and if he was, Carlisle was keeping a closer eye on you than normal. He also noticed that (B/F/N) would only ever sit in the chair across the room and when he would glance at you a look of disgust would be present on his face. This further solidified his resolve to get you out of that situation.

~A few days later while Emmett is visiting you~

"We're going to help you (Y/N), Everything will be better soon" Emmett reassured the sleeping male whilst holding his hand. He then felt (Y/N) clench his hand and looked up to see those beautiful (E/C) orbs opening

"Em-"

"Shh, don't strain yourself yet" Emmett stood up and pressed the 'call' button just above (Y/N)'s head before sitting back down

"Where-"

"The hospital...can you tell me what happened to you?"

After a brief pause, (Y/N) shook his ever so slightly

"That's fine, just tell me when you're ready" Emmett smiled sweetly. He saw (Y/N)'s face contort into sadness as he started crying. "I-I'm sorry f-for worrying you" (Y/N) choked out between sobs. Emmett couldn't see him cry like this, so he started to comfort and reassure the other male. "You'll be okay...I won't let you get hurt anymore..."

A/N: I really hope you liked it! Please tell me your thoughts! Sorry it took way longer than I said! I will now be working on the requests I have gotten and a new series I've conjured up ;)By my little Otaku's!!

#emmett cullen #Emmett Cullen x male reader #Emmett Cullen x male!reader #gay #lgbtq #Twilight #Twilight x male reader #Twilight x male!reader #the cullen family #the cullens #pt1 #part 1

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isolemnlyswear · 4 years ago

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hey ev 🤭 could u pls write something abt remus showing the marauders map to the reader and explaining how to use it? tysm 😁😁😚😚

i solemnly swear | r.l |

warnings/content : remus lupin x fem!reader , platonic!marauders x reader , swearing, mentions of sex, lots of cheeky lil jokes,

taglist : @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @faeinorbit @mistress-riddle @inks-and-jinx @jxsperhxle @punkrific @mellifluous-cosmos @krasivayadarling @orifortheweeknd @fallin-4-ya @daisyyy2516 @hoe4cedricdiggory @vsawyer1989 @fathermarty @silly-little-bl0g @outerspacecalum (tell me if you’d like to be added!)

note : thank you for beta-reading @miss-starkov <3 if any of you would like to beta read for a future fic lmk <3

a/n : yes i chose the title for my username. no i don’t regret it. and i’m sorry there is not much romantic interaction between rem and reader in this!! it’s more platonic w the marauders and remus is cute at the end but. <3

•••

You're curious; that's all there is to it. You're desperate to open the complex folds of parchment and reveal whatever may be inside – that is, your boyfriend didn't tell you what it was before accidentally leaving it on his desk. And now he was gone, attempting to rally up the rest of the boys and prevent them from doing a reckless prank or two, leaving you alone to fight your urge to open it.

And it's stupid, really, but you give in. You sit down carefully on the desk – attempting not to make any noise, although not another soul is in the room – and pick up the paper.

You clasp gentle fingers around it, trying to open it up, but it doesn't open. It's as if it's locked; so you pull out your wand and tap it gently, reciting a quiet “Alohamora”.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work, and you berate yourself mentally for not realizing that Remus, along with the others, the master of all spells and tricks, would make it as simple as that.

You huff in annoyance, turning it around and inspecting the small lettering and drawings scrawled there.

Suddenly, you jump out of your seat, practically throwing the paper across the room when you hear the boys entering the room, clamoring loudly and speaking over one another.

“Where’d you put it, Moons? We need it, now,” Sirius asks, clearly annoyed.

“I don't want to give it to you if you're going to be gits about it–” the lycanthrope pauses as he turns around, finally setting his eyes on you. You're curled into the chair, worried you'll be chided for looking at this clearly important thing in the first place.

There's a few moments of silence, and Remus walks over to you, leaning against the wall flush to his desk. You open your mouth to speak, but Remus does the same.

“I'm sorry–”

“Now, what did you find?” Remus’s voice overpowers yours, for the cadence is slower and deeper, but it's not haranguing in the least; he, like you, is merely curious.

“I-I dunno,” you respond, eyes wide, and Sirius fights back laughter in the background, with James sitting opposite him wearing a prideful smirk.

“Well, I think you have what these twats want,” he says, shooting them a pointed glare, then looking back to you. He offers out his hands for you to give him back the paper, and you do so, cowering back into your chair, still scared of being reprimanded for looking through his private items.

“I'm sorry, I–” you begin, but Remus merely smiles.

“Don't be sorry. Y’were bound to find out somehow,” he says, fetching his wand from his back pocket.

“What-what is it?” you ask, now eyes wide with inquisition rather than fear. He doesn't respond, but he grins, raising an eyebrow and tapping the paper with his wand - much like you did.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The map - yes, you can see it's a map now - unfolds, intricacies making themselves seen as it flattens into a complex web of footsteps and pathways on the faded parchment.

You exhale in pure bewilderment, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“The marauder's map,” James says from the other side of the room, grin plastering his features, and Sirius has a similar one embellishing his.

“What does it do?” you finally ask, leaning toward Remus to get a better look at it.

“Hmm… Have a look up in that corner, yeah, there,” he says, and you point your finger to where you are - the Gryffindor tower - and find four pairs of footsteps in a dorm room. This door room.

And sure enough, there is one pair of footsteps directly next to another; one is labeled “Remus Lupin” and the other “Y/N L/N”.

You take in a sharp inhale, looking up at Remus, who has a shit-eating grin on his face, and then he straightens up to take a step. Your eyes flick from him, walking across the dorm to James, and to the map, which mirrors his movements exactly.

“Did- how did you make this?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in inquiry, and if possible, Remus’s smile gets even wider.

“Take a few spells, tap into the ward system that Hogwarts already has… easy going, really!” Remus says, biting his lip as he grins again.

“Says the man that took four months to make it, let alone thinking up the idea since we fuckin’ got here,” James jabs with a roll of his eyes and a smirk, and Remus punches him in the arm, scrunching his nose.

“Hey, Prongs, I helped too,” Sirius pouts in feigned annoyance, and Remus scoffs.

“If by helping you mean telling me exactly who on the map we've pranked and attempting to list off every student in the whole bloody school, then sure, Pads, you helped,” the sandy-haired boy replies, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh fuck off, I got to about seventy.”

“The greatest wizard in our year! An uncanny ability to list off names of his peers! Get this man an award!” James says with great bravado, slapping his hands to his cheeks and getting up to kneel below Sirius.

“Bugger off, you two, or I'll maul you as Padfoot.”

“Ah! the big bad wolf! Let me protect you, Y/N, or he’ll come for our necks!” Remus says, holding back laughter, but you don't. You're giggling obsessively as the boy runs over to sweep you in his arms, feigning a growl at Sirius and guarding you with his limbs.

Sirius laughs, but it's distorted as he transforms into his animagus, a large, fluffy black dog, and runs at you.

He jumps at you – not with any attention to hurt, of course – and paws at your shoulders, grinning his doggy grin and you reach your arms from Remus’s grasp to ruffle the fur behind his ears.

A few minutes of gentle playfighting pass, and after your laughter subsides you're able to focus your attention back on the map.

You've moved to the couch now, and you're sprawled across Remus’s lap with his hands playing delicately with your hair. Sirius, the dog that is, is lying on top of you, and you're petting him idly as James rattles on about his latest endeavor with Lily.

The map catches your eye again, and you pick it up, diverting your attention from the dog on your lap and to your wand. You recite the words as Remus told you, and it opens, revealing two footsteps on top of each other where you're sitting.

James stops talking, and you look up at Remus.

“Where's Pads?” you ask, and the mess of fur on top of you perks his head up at the mention of his name.

“It doesn't show people in their animagus form,” Remus explains.

“Ah, that's why the animagus shit is useful, huh? Other than the, y’know, full moon,” you say, and Remus nods, smiling at you. “It does show us overlaid on each other, though,” you observe with a raised eyebrow, and James scoffs in laughter.

“That means we can see you when you-”

“James,” Remus warns, cutting off the bespectacled boy with a firm look, and Sirius lets out his dog laugh (a sort of snort and shake of his big head). James holds his hands up as if in surrender, and you laugh.

“Just sayin’, don't try anything.”

“Oh believe me, I will have this with me at all times we are–”

“Fucking?” James interrupts bluntly, cocking his head to the side.

Remus sighs. “I was going to say alone.”

“Same thing,” you say quietly, giggling, and Remus fights back a smirk.

“Moving on very quickly from that,” the lycanthrope says after a few beats, and you grin, sitting up in his lap to cuddle into his chest. Sirius jumps up and into his human form, laying back onto the couch and opening his mouth to speak.

“Ah-” Remus chides, “no ruining it. Twas so nice when you were silent,” he sighs in feigned wistfulness, and you laugh.

“Fuck off, you twat,” Sirius says, beginning to ramble on again, and you nestle into Remus’s lap, inhaling his scent with your face in his neck.

“M’tired,” you speak into his collarbone after a few minutes, and he smiles, kissing your forehead.

“Sleep, pretty girl. I'll be here when you wake up.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin #marauders x reader

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zukkaoru · 3 years ago

Text

hello all! today is the one year anniversary of me posting plum blossom aka my first oneshot to cross not only the 10k word mark but also the 20k word mark. it's also still holding it's spot as my most popular fic by both hits and kudos and it genuinely stuns me that something that started out as a silly little idea i had right after watching boiling rock is still getting reads and kudos

so anyways, to celebrate one year and to thank everyone who has read and left kudos/comments on it, may i offer you a little snippet from the Sokka POV rewrite i started shortly after posting plum blossom and never ended up finishing?👀💞

(it starts during the white lotus meeting when toph takes zuko to talk to jeong-jeong)

“Gossip doesn’t suit you,” Pakku states. His voice is steady, but underlined with a harshness Sokka doesn’t like. “It doesn’t do well to talk about the Fire Lord behind his back.”

“He’s my nephew,” Iroh replies in the same calm but also somehow harsh tone. “I would not ask you to refrain from ever speaking of your family when they are elsewhere.” Iroh sips his tea.

He and Pakku stare at each other in silence until Jeong-Jeong returns, trailed by Zuko and Toph. Jeong-Jeong and Zuko both look shaken up while Toph looks proud of herself.

“Thanks for letting us interrupt the Old Man Meeting!” Toph says.

Sokka tries to meet Zuko’s gaze, but his eyes are unfocused, almost glazed over. As Toph shoves him out the door, Sokka jumps up and follows them. Pakku tries to pretest, but Piandao silences him.

“Wait, Zuko!”

Zuko tenses, but once his eyes focus on Sokka, he relaxes.

“I just wanted to say bye.”

Zuko smiles. “Oh. Right. Sorry for showing up unannounced - Toph kind of neglected to mention you might be here.” He steps closer, and Sokka knows that means he wants to hug Sokka. Sokka, of course, obliges and pulls Zuko into a hug. Zuko’s breathing is shaky, but that’s to be expected with how off he’s looked since he and Toph first showed up. There’s something bothering him, but Sokka doesn’t want to pry. Not yet, at least. Not right now.

Instead, he just whispers, “I know we just saw each other a few days ago, but I’ve missed you.”

Zuko’s arms tighten around Sokka. “I missed you too.”

Sokka is studying the swords hanging on Piandao’s wall while he waits for Pakku to finish discussing whatever with Jeong-Jeong, when Toph bursts in through the door. She looks frantic beyond belief, and almost like she’s been crying.

“Are Sokka and Iroh still here?”

Sokka’s blood runs cold. Something is very, very, wrong.

Sokka feels a firm hand on his shoulder, which he realizes belongs to Iroh. “What is it, Toph?”

“It’s Zuko.”

“What?” Sokka cries. He doesn’t even care about what everyone else will think at this point. Toph never calls anyone by their actual names. Zuko is always ‘Sparky’ or ‘Fire Lord Hotman’ if she wants to mix it up. “Toph, what happened?!”

Toph shakes her head. “Not here.”

Sokka can’t get out of the house fast enough, but Toph waits until she, Sokka, and Iroh are seated outside and she’s sure no one else is listening in before she speaks.

“He passed out,” she starts. “He wanted to visit Azula--” she must feel Sokka tense, because she quickly adds, “it wasn’t Azula’s fault, though! He was really persistent on visiting her once we left the meeting, though, and you know how he gets. But anyways, he passed out while he was talking to her, and he--” Toph seems to have an internal battle with herself for a moment. “He’s fine now. That’s what the doctors told me. But I really think you two should stay in the palace, or at least the Fire Nation, so he can talk to you once he wakes up. ...I think he has some really important things he wants to say to both of you.”

Iroh nods. “I do believe that would be best. Sokka, I am sure Pakku will inform your family of your change of plans.”

Sokka comprehends what Iroh says, but he can’t figure out how to respond. His voice isn’t quite working, and he doesn’t even know if he can nod. The only thing he can think is Zuko.

“Snoozles, come on,” Toph says.

“Your eyes are red,” is what he ends up telling her.

“My eyes are white,” she snaps. “I’m blind.”

“No. You were crying. What happened, Toph?!” It takes everything in Sokka to not reach forward and grip Toph’s shirt. She would just throw rocks at his head or something if he tried that.

“I told you! He passed out!”

“TOPH.”

“Fine!” She crosses her arms. “Fine. It’s kind of, sort of, possible he passed out because he couldn’t breathe. I don’t-- he just--”

“Couldn’t breathe?” Sokka feels like he can’t breathe. “Couldn’t breathe?” he stands up. “Will they let me see him?”

Toph must realize that there’s no way Sokka will sleep unless he can at least see Zuko, so she all but barges them into the hospital where Azula was put and the doctors point them towards an infirmary room. It’s empty except for the bed Zuko’s lying in and a waterbender standing at his side. As soon as the door opens, the waterbender looks up. She starts, rearranges Zuko’s blankets, and then makes her way out of the room. She drops something in the trash can on her way out.

Sokka rushes over to Zuko.

He’s lying on his back, and his face is paler than it should be, but he’s breathing. Sokka can see his chest clearly rising and falling, though it does seem a bit unsteady.

“What aren’t you guys telling me?” Sokka asks. He doesn’t look back at Toph and Iroh; just keeps staring at Zuko. Like if he looks away, Zuko’s breathing will stop.

“It’s not our place to say.” Toph’s words echo Iroh’s from earlier. There’s something going on with Zuko, something that both Toph and Iroh know about.

And Sokka won’t lie, it kind of stings that Zuko hasn’t told him. He just spent several days in the Fire Nation, and there were plenty of instances where the two of them were alone with each other. Zuko should know he can tell Sokka anything.

But Zuko isn’t good at talking about himself. Sokka knows this. Iroh and Toph tend to find things out, whether you tell them or not. Toph has her seismic senses to alert her when anyone’s heartbeat is even slightly off and Iroh might as well be able to read minds with how he figures things out about people. So Sokka shouldn’t be hurt, but he still wants to know why Zuko didn’t talk to him.

Sokka reaches forward and brushes a strand of hair out of Zuko’s face.

+ bonus: after zuko confesses

And it makes sense now, why Zuko didn’t turn to Sokka. And why Iroh and Toph were so adamant about not telling Sokka the full truth. He can’t even be mad, really, because there’s nothing to be mad or hurt about. Except maybe Ozai raising Zuko to think he was worthless, but Sokka can dwell on that later. And if he accidentally wanders into the prison where Ozai is being held captive and accidentally punches him in the face, that is absolutely nobody’s business at all.

“What are you thinking?” Zuko asks. He’s rubbing his thumb over the back of Sokka’s hand.

“About how a lot of things suddenly make a lot of sense.” Sokka leans forward and presses his forehead against Zuko’s. “Also about how I really want to kiss you again.”

Zuko doesn’t say anything; he just tilts his head enough so he can press his lips against Sokka’s. Sokka sighs into the kiss and he feels Zuko smile. Sokka brings a hand up to Zuko’s hair, running his fingers through it. He could honestly stay like this forever.

#this has been sitting in my google docs for almost a year and i did not edit it so my apologies if it sucks #i originally wanted to write a full length sokka pov rewrite but that did not happen and i'm not sure it ever will #bc i have way too many other ideas #but i figured i could at least share some of what i have that is decent #and i wanted to do something to celebrate the one year anniversary of posting this fic bc it's still my baby #there are a lot of parts i don't stand by / would change entirely if i wrote it now but #this fic rewired the hard drive of my mind. was my first oneshot to cross the 10k & 20k marks. was my first fic to get a podfic.#it was my first fic to break 100 bookmarks and now it's at 525????#it blows me away how much love this fic got and i am greatly appreciative of it 🥺💞💓🌸#zukka #atla #grace's writing tag

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smutsonian · 4 years ago

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Hi, I love your work btw. The talent!!! Could I pls have a Ransom Drysdale smut where the reader meets his family for the first time but before they got there reader was teasing him so he takes her into one of the bedrooms to punish her for being a bad girl and they almost get caught

a new member of the family

summary: ransom brings his girl to meet his family but she wants his attention more than she wants his family’s attention.

warnings: SMUT, daddy kink, kind of public sex?, reader is rich af (like really), err just pure nastiness, not proofread. pls let me know if i missed anything

word count: 2.4k

a/n: i did it again... i made this just today so i can post something because i cant seem to finish that damn lee bodecker fic sjvfkvnsjfu

BTW thank you anooonnn 🥺

Lowkey missed doing them moodboards 🤧

masterlist

“That’s really impressive! How much do you make? Say… Yearly?” Joni gives the young woman a wide smile, clearly excited with the talk of money while her daughter, Meg, shakes her head in disappointment and embarrassment.

“Oh my god, mom! You don’t ask people that!” Meg gives her mother a glare before the young woman, Y/N, places her hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

“It’s fine, Meg. I quite like the interview,” Y/N smirks before turning back to Joni with a proud smile.

“Well, I make 7 to 8 digits in an hour 10 on a good day so… I’ll let you do the math,” she chuckles at Joni’s stunned expression before turning to her boyfriend with a wink. Her hand snakes toward his chest as she pulls the man into a hug while her other hand travels down the front of his slacks, palming him discretely while Ransom’s family watched them in awe, not aware of Y/N’s wandering hand.

“When can we go home?” She whispers close to his ear while he plays with his member through his slacks but he stops her with a glare and a firm grasp on her wrist before leaning down to whisper against her ear.

“Behave and enjoy the attention of my family. Continue teasing me and you won’t get any attention from me,” he warns as he kisses the top of her head while the family just watches with adoration in their eyes.

“Y/N, is it true that you can access new models of devices before they’re released?” Jacob’s quiet yet snobbish voice forces her to pull away from Ransom. She looked at the teen with a smile before nodding.

“That’s somewhat true. Obviously not every brand but there are some.” Jacob’s eyes light up at her words but they even grew brighter and wider at Ransom’s words.

“By some, she means a lot.” Ransom scoffs before walking off to sit on one of the sofas. Y/N’s eyes follow her boyfriend’s figure when Jacob grabs her attention once more.

“Is it possible for you to…” The young boy had the audacity to be shy now but Y/N ignores it. She came here to impress Ransom’s family, didn’t she? So why not push the limits?

“I’ll send you packages whenever new models come my way.” She grins and winks at the boy before patting him on the shoulder. Jacob’s eyes widen in glee before he surprisingly gives her a hug, muttering his thanks again and again.

“Well, that’s new,” Walt chuckles at the sight of his son hugging Ransom’s new girl while Donna just smiles at her son’s elation.

The Thrombeys are on about their usual banters, surprisingly calmer than the other gatherings because just like Ransom’s girlfriend, they’re trying to impress her as well. The young woman didn’t even have to try hard because her name already had the Thrombeys falling for her. She will be a good addition to the family.

Y/N was bored. She’s also needy, hot, and bothered but her boyfriend continues to ignore her attempts of leaving the place and doing it at their shared apartment…. Well more like a shared mansion? Their bank accounts mixed together could buy a whole country and that’s not even an exaggeration.

Y/N is so needy that she’d let Ransom have his way with her in the car. But it seems like her boyfriend just wasn’t in the mood.

That will not work at all for needy little Y/N.

I’m dripping here, Ransom.

Seen.

What should a girl do to get some action?

Seen.

I see that huge bulge you’re hiding and it’s looking realll delicious right now.

Seen.

God, how I want to ride that huge cock

Y/N bites her bottom lip as she watches her boyfriend staring at his phone screen, probably reading her text messages.

She smirks when Ransom’s head snapped up to look at her with dark and lustful eyes.

It worked.

Y/N smirks at Ransom’s clenched jaw and she’s a hundred percent sure that he’s just as needy as she is. If he wasn’t ready to go home a few minutes ago, he is now.

Ransom continues to stare at her before he squints his eyes at her as if he was assessing her and what he’ll be doing with her. Y/N’s smirk falls when Ransom breaks eye contact before looking down and shaking his head dismissively.

The rest of the day continued with Y/N trying to work Ransom up but he never budged. Does he still like her? What, is he tired of her? Negative thoughts flood Y/N’s mind as she tries one last time to get to Ransom.

They are now having dinner and she’s sitting beside Ransom while the rest of the family continues to talk about whatnot. Y/N didn’t care. She’s too busy running her hand along Ransom’s thigh, carefully and slowly inching close to his still hard cock. Maybe he does still like her…

Y/N’s face falls when Ransom gives her a harsh look before ripping her hand away from his thigh and continuing to eat. Y/N lets out a huff before rolling her eyes and eating her meal quietly and quite grumpily.

She’s been chewing on the mashed potatoes when a large hand falls down her exposed thigh. The short dress didn’t cover much of her legs. She looks down at the hand before following the arm to see Ransom giving her a smirk.

Y/N stares at him blankly before ripping his hand off just like he did with hers earlier and turning back to her sad-looking mashed potatoes. The hand that she pushed off comes back, gripping her thighs hard and forcing her to look back at her boyfriend with a frown. She glares at his smug face before wearing a faux smile. She leans towards his face as if she’s going to press a kiss on his cheek but she’s not in the mood to be all cute right now.

“Fuck off,” she whispers, voice filled with spite before grabbing his hand and shoving it away with all the strength she could muster.

Not too fond to be with Ransom right now, she excuses herself to the bathroom.

Lo and behold, her boyfriend follows.

Just as she was about to close the bathroom door, Ransom’s hand pushes it open, making her stumble back as he entered before closing the door himself and locking it.

“I don’t appreciate you cursing at my face, little girl.” Ransom stares at her, eyes scanning her body while he starts to undo his pants.

Y/N scoffs before turning away from him. “Well I don’t appreciate my boyfriend making me feel like shit the whole day then suddenly is all up on me.” Y/N lets out a whimper when her front is suddenly against the walls as Ransom presses his body against her back.

“That’s not how you talk to me, little girl. You’ve been very bad.” Ransom rubs his cock against her back before hiking her dress up so he can rub his tip along her wet folds.

“No teasing is included in Daddy’s rules, am I right?” He growls against her ear and she nodded in response, whimpering as he continues to rub his tip against her wetness, teasing her slit but never entering.

“And those fucking texts,” he lets out a laugh before stroking her hair gently. “My family’s attention is not enough for my little girl, is it?” He nibbles on her ear before his hands find their way to her front, groping her breasts harshly that elicits whines from her.

“I-I only want daddy’s attention,” she whispers before rubbing her back against Ransom’s pulsing cock.

“So needy for me, aren’t you?” Ransom chuckles before moving one hand to guide himself to her entrance.

“You’ve been a really bad girl. I don’t know if you deserve daddy’s cock right now.” He clicks his tongue before pressing a kiss on her shoulder.

“But you’ve made daddy so hard and needy for this pretty cunt so I guess you’re a lucky one, aren’t you?” He chuckles before slamming his cock inside her, holding her hips so he can pull her closer to him. She lets out a cry from his actions but he covers her mouth with a huge hand.

“You don’t want them to hear you now…” He trails off before removing his hand.

“But you just love attention… I have a feeling that you’d love for them to know how much your daddy makes you feel good, huh?” He continues to slam his hips against her ass, groaning quietly as he feels her wet walls sucking his cock with hunger every time he pulls out. He watches as she bites her lip in hopes to not make a sound.

“Ahh fuck! I fucking love this cunt! You don’t know how those texts made me feel. All the touching… You wanted attention? You’re getting it now.” His pace becomes faster and it became harder for her to conceal her moans so she moves her arms so that her forearm is against her mouth, covering her cries.

“I can feel your walls, baby… You’re going to cum, aren’t you?” His grip on her hips becomes tighter and she only nodded in response, silently begging him to make her cum but before she could find her release, he pulls out of her completely.

“Daddyy…” She whines but lets out a squeal when he roughly turns her body around so she’s facing him now.

A hand grips her face, fingers digging into her cheeks as he forces his mouth on hers, hungrily lapping every corner of her mouth before he slams his cock back inside her cunt.

A knock on the door makes her stiff against Ransom but he only smirked as he continues to ram into her, eyes watching her in amusement, waiting to see how she’s going to respond to the knock.

“Y/N, dear? Are you okay?” Joni’s voice tears through the sounds of their skin slapping together and Y/N had held onto Ransom’s broad shoulders when she feels herself getting closer.

“I-I’m okay, J-Joni! I’m almost done!” Y/N manages to shout and Joni thankfully leaves. Ransom smirks at Y/N with dark eyes before using one hand to stimulate her clit while the other gropes her breasts. His head dips down her neck to suck hungrily before nipping on it gently and licking at the same spot.

“You’re almost done, huh?” He nips her neck one more time before moving to her lips, easily shoving his tongue in her mouth while she could only whimper against him in pure pleasure.

“I’ll help you finish,” he whispers before pulling away and focusing on fingering her clit while he continues to slam his cock into her.

He watches, observes, her face while he continues to please her. He enjoys every reaction he pulls out of his girl as he starts slamming hard and deep all while his fingers rub her clit with such speed that had her mewling in ecstasy.

“Mmm, you close?” He smiles as her eyes are closed while her mouth opens but no noise comes out. Her back arches at the feeling and he stares at her beauty in awe. He’s very lucky to have her.

Ransom continues to stare as she finally cums, body shaking against his hold and it might just be his most favorite thing to watch.

“Daddy!” She moans, no longer able to hold out and Ransom immediately pulls her in for a kiss. Though the thought of his family knowing he’s able to please this fine woman makes him swell with pride, he didn’t want her being ashamed or abashed when they go back out. He really cares for his little girl.

Ransom continues his thrusts, eager to have his release as well.

“Where?” Ransom grunts breathlessly and his girl smiles at him in a daze, lust flashing her eyes before she grinned.

“Inside, pleasee daddyy…” His girl whines and who is he to deny that?

With a few more thrusts, Ransom finally gives a final hard thrust before his face scrunches in pleasure and his eyes closes as well while he spills every single drop of his cum inside her. His head falls back as his mouth spills profanities and his girl watches in admiration just like he did with her. Just as thankful as he is to have him as hers.

“Ahh, I fucking love you!” Ransom grunts before pulling out and putting his slacks back on. He grins at the sight of his cum spilling down her thighs. He swipes the trail with a finger and his eyes widen in fondness as his girl grabs his wrist before putting her lips around the finger and licking his finger clean of his cum. He could feel his cock twitching against his slacks and he scoffs in amusement.

Ransom helps her fix her dress before he pulls her into a hug.

“I fucking love you,” he repeats and she nods against his chest.

“I love you too, daddy,” she smiles up at him before chuckling when he leans down to press a quick kiss on her nose.

“I think we’re ready to leave now. Continue this at home.” Ransom laughs at her eagerness and follows her out of the door and out of the house, quickly saying their goodbyes to his family.

Oh, he got really lucky with you. He’s fucked up a lot in his life but he’s not going to fuck things up with you.

----

BONUS SCENE:

“They’re literally doing it in the bathroom!” Meg screeches, face contorting in disgust.

“Mom, you heard them!” Meg looks at her mother, expecting to back her up but the older woman remained silent.

“Jesus!” Meg cries, rolling her eyes at her mother.

“Why are you so worked up?” Joni asks her daughter with a frown.

“Yeah… Doing it is pretty normal. It’s one of the needs of humans…” Jacob gives Meg a look, jaw clenching when Meg scoffs at him.

“How would you know?” She gives him an irritated look before Walt speaks up.

“Don’t be so pissed, dear. Jacob is right. It’s human nature.” Walt grins when everyone agrees. Everyone seemed to be on Y/N’s side.

Meg scoffs at everyone. It’s a fucked up family and she doesn’t know if she’s worried for Y/N or happy to have another sane person in the family.

One thing is sure. Y/N will be a part of this family.

----

taglist:

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @evnscvll @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson @la-cey @awaywithtime @gotnofucks @littlegasps

Anything Chris: @patzammit @princess-evans-addict @shadowcatsworld @notyourtypicalrose @onetwo3000 @bluemusickid @heyiamthatbitch @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @empath-bunny @slytherinandoutasgard

Chris and seb: @harrysthiccthighss

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom imagine #ransom smut #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale imagine

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soft--dragon · 4 years ago

Text

Giggly Duckling

Based off of this prompt here

Word Count: 1,411

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

Karl's nervous giggles filled the air as he cowered behind Sapnap's shoulder who was grinning widely. Quackity was watching the screen with wide eyes, trained on the five am that glowed in the corner of the screen.

"C'mon Quackity!" Sapnap gently pushed the man's shoulder, "You can't just lock yourself in the room!"

"Fucken watch me!" Quackity shot back, gripping the controller tightly.

"It's night five man!" Karl encouraged, "you can't run out of power now!"

Quackity's eyes snapped to the red power level glaring at him, sitting at twenty percent. "It's fine!" He shot back firmly.

It was most definitely not fine, but who was Quackity to tell them that? After four run-ins with Foxy, eight with Bonny, six from Chica, and three from Freddy, Quackity was more than content to just lock himself in the control room.

Karl giggled again, noticing the power level drop even further. "You're gonna lose," he warned with a wide grin.

"Shut up" Quackity replied shortly, "It's fine."

"Stop being such a wimp and open the damn doors Quackity" Sapnap argued.

"Fuck you!"

"We're just trying to help man," Karl laughed, "now open the doors!"

He poked Quackity's side in hopes of getting the guy to budge, what he wasn't expecting was for the beanie wearing man to curl away from the contact with a muffled squeak. The three of them stared at each other before Karl and Sapnap smirked and turned away. Quackity didn't like the identical mischievous looks the pair had. He turned back to the screen in time to see the lights flicker and die. He let out a stream of spanish curses, sinking further into his chair and half hiding behind his hands. Sapnap and Karl had gone very still, holding their breaths. The twinkling of Freddy's music made the trio start to make panicked noises, only increasing when the iconic bear himself appeared in the doorway.

Suddenly the screen changed to WORK SHIFT COMPLETE and the sound of children cheering happily. Quackity gave a scream of victory, closely followed by Sapnap and Karl's screeches of joy.

"I DID IT CHAT! I DID IT! LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO!" Quackity yelled, punching the air in his excitement.

"QUACKITY'S POPPING OFF CHAT!" Karl shouted, wrapping the boy in a hug as he jumped up and down.

Sapnap laughed, clapping as he was pulled into the hug too. "You were so close to dying man!" He cackled.

"Quackity never dies!" Quackity crowed loudly, flashing a grin at the camera.

"Don't go stealing Technoblade's shtick" Karl giggled, "he'll hunt you down like a pig."

"Wouldn't that be ironic" Sapnap chortled, sitting back down. "A pig hunting a pig."

Quackity laughed too then turned to the camera again. He thanked the people for turning up then sent them on their way to raid Niki. They all gave a collective sigh of satisfaction when the cameras had all been turned off. It had been a good stream, their first one together. It was nice.

Quackity yawned widely, turning to look at his friends. "Right, I'm starving and exhausted, you guys chill with me ordering taco bell?"

"Absolutely" Sapnap agreed, then glanced over at Karl. "But first…"

Karl turned Quackity's chair to face him, a grin on the boy's face. "You flinched earlier, what was that about?"

Quackity's eyes widened, having expected the two to forget about that. His face flushed warm as he squirmed in his chair. "I just...I wasn't expecting you to do that."

"Oh?" Karl's grin widened. "You sure it wasn't because you're ticklish Duckling?"

Quackity's face burned. "No?" he replied quietly.

"Didn't sound too sure there, big man" Sapnap said from behind him and before Quackity could register it, Sapnap had grabbed his wrists and pulled them up to his ears, leaving his torso exposed.

Karl giggled, flexing his fingers close to Quackity's midriff. "My my, so much to tickle, you don't mind do you Duckling?"

Though he was teasing, Quackity could hear the genuine question behind Karl's words. He appreciated the kindness the older had.

"Just stop when I say so...please?" Quackity murmured, an anticipating smile already curling his lips.

Karl cooed. "Of course, now, where to begin hmm?"

Quackity watched as Karl's fingers came close to his sides but didn't touch down. Instead hovering close enough to the area for him to feel the heat of Karl's hands. He squirmed in the chair again, pressing back against the material and trying to suppress his giggles.

"Giggling already Duckling?" Karl teased fondly, "I'm not even doing anything yet~"

Sapnap leaned down, his hair brushing the shell of Quackity's ear making him squeak. "Feeling a little ticklish Quackity?" He murmured and sent butterflies fluttering throughout the younger's stomach.

He turned his head away from Sapnap and made the mistake of looking at Karl's hands again that were mere inches from his hips.

"Juhust fuhuhucking do it alreheheady" he giggled, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Well someone's impatient" Karl snickered, "is this really so difficult for you Duckling?"

He dragged a single finger down Quackity's side making the boy curl into himself with a whine, nervous giggles tumbling out of him.

"Yohohohou're beheheing mehehean!* Quackity bit his lip to try and muffle the bubbly laughter.

"Me? Mean? Never" Karl grinned and with a featherlight touch scuttled his fingers along Quackity's ribs, feeling the muscles spasm beneath his hands.

"Kahaharl!" Quackity squealed, pressing himself to the chair and turning his head away from the older.

"Awww, is someone getting a bit flustered? You're getting a bit red there Quackity, is it from some little tickle tickle tickles?" Karl cooed.

Quackity's blush only brightened at Karl's words, shaking his head. "Dohohon't- don't sahahay thahahat-"

Sapnap grinned. "Say what? Tickle? Is that the word?"

Quackity giggled louder. "Sahahapnap" he whined.

Sapnap got a truly evil idea and after some quick eye conversation with Karl, leaned close to Quackify again. "Hey Quack?"

The younger flinched at how close Sapnap was to him but looked at the arsonist regardless. "Y-Yeah?" He stuttered.

Sapnap lowered his voice and whispered "tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle-"

At the same time, Karl's fingers all finally touched down. He raked them across Quackity's belly, vibrating them quickly when they reached the lower abdomen.

Quackity's blush went bright pink, fully convulsing as he let out a shriek, tugging at his wrists still in Sapnap's gentle but firm grip.

"FUHUHUCK! NOHOHOHOHO!" He cackled, tossing himself left and right and drumming his feet against the ground. "KAHAHARL! SAHAHAHA-"

His words were lost in a fit of hysteric, bright laughter. Both lers internally freaked at how adorable their lee was, but out loud they whispered playful teases and praises. Quackity really couldn't tell if he was in heaven or hell.

"Hey Quackity, before we order Taco Bell, I think I'll have a snack right now" Karl grinned and tugged up Quackity's hoodie.

The boy's stomach sucked in on instinct, his giggles heightening as Karl lowered his head to his trembling belly.

"You ready?" Karl grinned.

Quackity took in a breath and nodded excitedly. Karl pressed his lips to Quackity's stomach and blew a quick raspberry to the skin. Tingles broke out along the sensitive midriff at the vibrations making Quackity's laughter squeak and jump up an octave.

"Oooo I'm feeling quite hungry too Karl" Sapnap chucked then blew a raspberry into Quackity's neck, rubbing his stubble into the soft skin.

Quackity tossed his head left and right, bucking his hips wildly at the overwhelming sensations. Karl grabbed hold of his waist, squeezing gently as he blew into Quackity's side. Air escaped Quackity's lungs and he cackled helpleslly.

"ENOHOHOHOUGH GUHUHUYS! STOHOHOHP!"

The pair instantly pulled away, Karl gently rubbing his hand over Quackity's stomach and Sapnap releasing his wrists and brushing his hand through his hair. Quackity melted under their soft touches, his laughter tapering off into quiet giggles.

"Was that alright?" Karl asked.

Quackity nodded, smiling widely. "Yeheheah, it wahas greheheat" he murmured through honey sweet giggles.

Sapnap and Karl shared a fond look. "Ready for Taco Bell now Quack?" Sapnap asked softly.

The boy nodded, lifting his arms and Sapnap gently picked him up off the chair. "Mind ordering?" He asked Karl.

"Sure thing" Karl smiled, pulling out his phone. "Take him to the lounge and find something to watch, I'll be out soon."

Sapnap nodded and headed out of the recording room, leaving Karl to track down Taco Bell's number.

#mcyt tickle #dsmp tickle #ler!karl #ler!sapnap #lee!quackity #quackity #sapnap #karl jacobs #mcyt #my fanfic #fanfic

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cinnonym · 3 years ago

Text

The Dark One’s Choice

As announced, I finally polished (and finished) my Dark One smut fic, sooo if you’re one of @swanqueensalad‘s horny followers (aren’t we all) or otherwise inclined to read the closest thing to smut I’ve ever written, here goes:

~5k

rating: m

mildly dubious consent, sub/dom hints, choking, restraints, power play, angst, canon-compliant

don’t like don’t read ^^

The great grandfather clock in the hallway shows half past 1 at night when Regina passes it, finally on her way to bed after a long day. Her thoughts have kept her alert until now, the risk of Emma, now as the Dark One, turning up at her doorstep to demand to have Henry too high to let her relax properly. And then there is the gaping hole in her memories, a condition she's familiar with but which still annoys her in no small measure. One moment the gates of Camelot swing open for her, the dagger pressing to her side in the warm promise of Emma's trust, then the next second she's flat on the floor of Granny's Diner, faced with Emma in full Dark One apparel, mercilessly glaring down at her. Accusing and dangerous and assuring to punish them all, though her cold eyes were on Regina only, sending a shiver down her spine that consisted of trepidation and arousal in equal measures.

Regina shudders just remembering the low purr of the Dark One's voice, the radiated dominance so different from the kind of nervous excitement that usually accompanies Emma's talks with Regina. Different, yes, but not necessarily worse, Regina thinks, the naughty admission painting an unexpected smirk on her lips, and she permits a silent chuckle before calling herself back to order. She mustn't enjoy nor underestimate the saviour's dark side. Quite the contrary, to save Emma from herself, and the rest of town from Emma, it is crucial that Regina stays alert and focuses on figuring out a way to get rid of darkness once and for all. So, no unnecessary risks. Constant vigilance.

Right on cue, the doorbell rings and startles Regina back into reality. She throws a glance at the clock. 1:40, not exactly a reasonable time for visitors, even in this tense situation. Besides, Snow, or David, and even the pirate, would have rather called to talk than walked through nightly Storybrooke with a new Dark One on the loose. No, Regina decides, it has to be Emma herself who's on her porch, now pressing the bell again.

Regina swears under her breath; if she doesn't put an end to this, Emma will wake up Henry. On the other hand, opening the door would violate the very set of rules she has just established. There's just no easy way out of this.

Emma ends up making the decision for her when suddenly greyish smoke forms right in front of Regina, vanishing to reveal the familiar frame of the saviour. Her lips set in a thin straight line, the green eyes as expressionless as earlier, she stands and looks at Regina. Just takes her in. Regina feels her skin starting to tingle when a flash of hunger crosses Emma's features, and she's suddenly all too aware of the red velvet dress she's still wearing, clinging to her curves.

"What are you doing here?" She asks when Emma still hasn't moved to talk after several seconds. Her voice is calm, only the slightest hitch in her throat betraying her racing heart. Emma is close, far too close, the aura of power that surrounds her enclosing Regina as well. She's always had a weakness for great wizardry she supposes, the mixture of envy and admiration an exhilarating drug running through her veins, and she welcomes it like an old friend.

"After weeks of sleeping wall to wall with my parents," Emma finally answers, her tone as cool and indifferent as if she were talking about the weather, "I now have the opportunity to take what I want." And she steps even closer, now bare inches separating their bodies.

A sudden fright befalls Regina, her heart fluttering weakly in her chest, colibri-like. She almost doesn't dare to ask for clarification. What if Emma has changed her mind somewhere along the way, realizing that sacrificing herself for Regina has been a mistake after all? What if she's here to make Regina pay for that mistake? What if this is revenge?

"Which is what?" Regina still whispers, hoping against all odds for a, what, fourth chance by now? But no such luck this time; Emma's eyes harden and she raises her chin. Her voice is but a whisper, her lips carefully forming the word:

"You."

Regina closes her eyes for just a second, absorbing the impact without allowing Emma to witness the emotions flickering through her mind. A second is all Emma should need to finish matters once and for all, but it passes without either of them moving and when Regina glances up at Emma again she's surprised to find a tiny glint of amusement in the depths of her eyes. And then that glint changes, grows darker, twisted, and funnily enough, heated, burning with an intensity that makes Regina automatically lower her gaze.

A throaty chuckle vibrates through Emma's body. She waves her hand, and the next thing Regina feels is the cool tapestry of the wall against her back and Emma's grip tight around her wrists, pinning her down. A hot breath tickles her earlobe when the blonde leans forward in the same movement, teeth grazing Regina's skin.

"Control is mine now. Is that understood?" Emma whispers huskily, fleetingly biting down on the sensitive flesh right under Regina's ear.

Regina can barely stifle a moan and she feels her knees grow weak. It would be so easy to give in, the fulfilling of late night dreams and poorly repressed fantasies right in front of her - but she can't. This, what's happening, is the Dark One's choice, not Emma's. And while the darkness might be prevailing in Emma's mind right now, it doesn't mean Emma isn't still in there somewhere, fighting and protesting. And when she returns and the darkness is extinguished - an act Regina will accomplish and if it so takes years - Emma will have to face regrets enough. A nightly adventure with the Queen doesn't have to be among them.

So Regina summons her strengths, and resists. Pulling away from Emma's touch as much as possible in the confined space at her disposal, she shakes her head and squares her shoulders.

"I don't think so, no."

The rage wells up in Emma immediately, her hands clenching around Regina's wrists until it hurts but Regina neither flinches nor backs down. She can tell that Emma didn't expect defiance from the way her eyes widen a fracture before darkening to a near black.

"What?"

The whisper is deadly, a promise of pain if Regina were to repeat her words. Well, Regina can handle pain, if something greater is at stake. And so she raises her chin and holds Emma's glance, proudly and with all the indifference she doesn't really feel.

"I said no, I won't defer to you. Magic doesn't make you my leader and I refuse to - "

"I am the Dark One," Emma roars and Regina once again thinks of Henry asleep upstairs. She prays he won't wake up and choose to see what's causing the commotion, or she will lose some serious ground to Emma. Maybe playing up hasn't been the best plan after all, but she can't revise her strategy now.

"I see that," Regina consequently bites right back, hoping that if she only appears strong enough, Emma will step back eventually. "But it doesn't change the fact that I won't yield to you."

It's only when the expression in Emma's changes again, turning almost playful, that Regina realizes the mistake she's made by counting on Emma's rationality. Magic is based on emotions, and since the Dark One's powers are still relatively new to Emma, she is bound to act unpredictably. Well, this brings a whole new danger to this nightly encounter. Regina's suddenly glad that her provocation didn't fuel Emma's anger. In fact, Emma is eyeing her almost fondly, leisurely letting her eyes take in every tiny aspect of Regina's complexion. The scrutiny inadvertently brings the colour to Regina's cheeks and a smirk on Emma's face.

"You don't really mean that."

And then, without another word of warning, Emma surges forward again and captures Regina's lips with hers before the mayor can dodge her. A yelp of surprise escapes Regina. She tries to jerk back, except she can't, Emma has her trapped against the wall, pressing down on her with the full length of her body. A shudder passes through Regina upon that realization, making her skin tingle and setting her nerves aflame. Never would she have thought that Emma's touch could have such an effect on her. And the kiss, the saviour's lips moving on Regina's almost feverishly. They are dry and slightly chapped under the crimson lipstick and Regina finds herself sinking into them, answering Emma's harsh bites with tentative nibbles on her own part.

But no, she must not delight in this. She has to keep a clear head, because while she is kissing Emma's lips and inhaling Emma's perfume, she has to remember that it's not Emma's mind who's in control here. And so, although a long, leather-covered leg is slowly wedging itself between Regina's, making her feel all kinds of things, including a very dominant throbbing at her core, Regina uses a momentary distraction on Emma's part to push against the arms confining her and turn her head away.

"Stop," she says, intending to sound firm, but it comes out as a strangled moan instead. Miraculously, Emma still seems to have heard her, because she pulls back slightly to look at Regina. Her eyes are darker than Regina has ever seen them and for a moment she feels her resolve weaken, but she masterfully ignores the dryness in her throat and pushes against Emma's shoulders again.

"Let me go," she demands when Emma doesn't budge, instead watching her with the faintest annoyance in the tilt of her head. Regina pushes again, a petulant move rather than a well-considered one. She should have known better than to provoke the Dark One further, but her skin is burning, and she just needs Emma to back off before she'll commit a whole different folly. And who would have known it would be just this little extra push that makes Emma snap.

But it is and the angry flashing of familiar green eyes is all the warning Regina gets before a hand wraps around her throat, constricting her airways.

"Why do you keep resisting?" Emma growls, her voice inhuman, feral. "I can see how you want this," she wriggles her leg slightly and Regina gasps when it rubs against her hot centre. It takes all her self control not to thrust her hips forward to grind against the leather, and maybe the desperation shows a little in her eyes, because Emma smirks and applies more pressure on Regina's throat.

"So why don't you take it?" She hisses and curls her index finger, the sharp nail scratching against Regina's skin, "Take it."

Suppressing a whimper, Regina feels her body react, a new gush of wetness slowly trickling down the inside of her thighs. She has to put an end to this soon or so help her.

"This is not you talking," she brings out, varying somewhere between a moan and a gasp, the limited access to oxygen finally making her feel light headed and breathless. "The darkness has lowered your inhibitions."

Emma chuckles and brings up her other hand, drawing a slow trail down Regina's stomach. When she feels muscles tensing beneath her touch, she releases a delighted laugh. It's scary how fast her emotions seem to change.

"Oh but dear," she replies, almost conversationally now, her eyes twinkling with some wicked amusement, "that is exactly why it's me talking. The darkness is simply giving me the courage to do what I've been wanting to do for a very long time."

Regina's teeth clench at the easy, un-Emma-like admission, and of course the Dark One notices.

"You don't believe me?" She snarls, suddenly furious again, "Let me prove it."

And not giving Regina a chance to react, Emma's long slender fingers press against Regina's core, cupping her through the velvety fabric of her dress. A strangled moan escapes Regina but before her body can betray her by rolling against the tantalizing touch, she summons her magic and poofs out of Emma's grasp.

Mastering magic in an emotionally turmoiled state is difficult, but Regina has perfected the technique during her long years as the Evil Queen. She materializes on the exact spot she had in mind, several metres away from where Emma had held her, an armchair in front of her, which she grabs on to in need of support. Taking a deep breath and revelling in the feeling of the air streaming in her lungs freely again, she lifts her eyes, fully expecting to see Emma leaning against the wall still. The room is empty though, without a trace of the Dark One.

Regina furrows her brow. Would Emma just leave like that? And let Regina win? It seems highly unlikely, and yet the deserted scene she's presented with suggests it. Disappointment pulses through Regina, but before she can analyse and revoke the feeling, grey smoke envelopes her. It's only due to her marvellous reflexes that Regina manages to jerk away in order to avoid being trapped again when Emma makes her appearance. An infuriating smirk is playing on her lips, which, as Regina shamefully notices while consciously pursing her own mouth, are now devoid of crimson lipstick.

"Missed me?" Emma mouths, a knowing glint in her eyes that only intensifies when Regina attempts to scoff. "Don't forget that I know when you're lying."

This comment throws Regina off balance though she refuses to let it show. It reminds her of Emma, the real Emma, untainted with darkness yet not free of pain. Emma, who through the course of her life has learned to read people to protect herself from getting hurt. Emma, whose superpower may not be perfect, despite all efforts, but with Regina it always is. Emma, who knows her.

For a moment, Regina misses her so much, the loss feels like a sharp knife twisting in her gut. And a moment is all the Dark One needs to bridge the short distance between them and cradle Regina's face in her hands. The touch is almost gentle, Emma's thumbs tracing the line of Regina's cheekbones, and when Regina looks up, she's surprised to notice the tender expression in those green eyes.

"I am still Emma you know," Emma whispers, tugging at a strand of Regina's hair, then placing it delicately behind her ear. "Still me." And then, leaning in with a wicked grin spreading on her lips she adds: "Just look at my powers like an extra gift. Something to give matters some kick..."

Regina swallows, tantalizing images penetrating her mind, colliding and overlapping with those of Emma, the real Emma, with her jutting jaw and hideous leather jackets. She shakes her head to get rid of them, refusing to let the Dark One play with her emotions any longer. It's time the Queen regains some command. For Emma's sake.

"Embracing the darkness doesn't seem very Emma-like," she counters tentatively, testing the waters by also taking a step back. Dark eyes follow her, thin lips drop into a frown, but for now Emma lets her have the distance. She just shrugs.

"Didn't want to waste the potential."

Regina takes another small step back, sees Emma's eyes dart down to her legs, freezes - but still nothing happens. Good. The gap between their bodies allows Regina to gather her wits and think of how she'll handle the situation. Hitherto, it has been Emma who set the pace, hardly giving Regina time to react. This will have to change if the mayor wants to stand any chance against the Dark One. She needs a plan to distract Emma from trying to seduce her, distract her from Henry sleeping upstairs, distract her from using her magic against Regina. And what distraction could be better than a midnight snack?

"Are you hungry? Or did the darkness extinguish this trait too?" She asks as casually as she can muster.

Emma cocks her head, an amused smile flashing over her complexion. Her eyes darken.

"On the contrary. I'm almost insatiable these days."

Regina is sure her cheeks burn brightly pink but she ignores the feeling and clears her throat.

"I meant food."

"Oh, I know what you meant," Emma smirks, disappearing and reemerging a foot closer to Regina in the blink of an eye. The mist has not yet cleared away when she repeats the trick, now standing behind Regina. Their noses are almost touching. "I also know that I'm tired of this chitchat. Why don't you put that mouth to better use elsewhere?"

A groan escapes Regina when Emma's lips once again press against hers. Still she focuses and flicks her hand to escape the Dark One's grip, reappearing on the other side of the armchair. Emma follows her before she can even breathe, pins her down to the chair, effectively demobilising Regina's wrists with her knees.

"Two can play this game," she murmurs against Regina's ear, then sits up. "Your move."

Regina's whole body seems to buzz with nerves, her skin is aflame where Emma's touching her, still she forces herself to think. Emma's magic works faster than hers, but she's inexperienced. She might be more powerful but she lacks self-discipline. If Regina managed to lure her into poofing repeatedly, unnecessarily, maybe she could tire the Dark One while saving her own strength, until eventually she would have the upper hand again.

The heat pulsing through her body is put to good use as Regina channels the energy to her palms, letting them warm up to the point where, if she were to flick her hand, she could conjure a fireball. Then she twists them, reaching for Emma's thighs.

The Dark One jerks back for only a split second, but that is sufficient for Regina who's been awaiting it. She draws her hands free and sends a magic blow at Emma. Just like she predicted, the blonde is sent flying but disappears mid air and grey mist once again embraces Regina. However, she is prepared; jumping up from the chair she creates a shield around where Emma is materializing. A hiss escapes the Dark One, then she throws her head back and laughs, short and hard. Regina's eyes dart to the staircase, to Henry, but fortunately Emma doesn't seem to notice.

"You see, there are advantages to being the Dark One," her voice comes out of nowhere as she breaks free from her cage by poofing a ridiculous amount of seven times until she's facing Regina again. "I love this form of transport."

Regina only smiles tightly, hands already up again. This is her game now. She risks wasting some of her magical energy to create a soundproof spell in the living room, then makes a swooping gesture that hurls the armchair Emma's way. Instead of stopping it, like any sensible user of magic would have, the blonde turns into swirling smoke again, and then again when Regina lets the footrest follow, and even to avoid the decorative tablecloth. It's quite ridiculous really, she's bound to get tired in the matter of minutes, and Regina allows herself a tiny self-satisfied smile. Not many can claim to have tricked the Dark One.

Except her victory only lasts seconds, when suddenly Emma's slender fingers encircle Regina's wrists once more and she's slammed against the wall.

"Oh Regina," Emma purrs in a low voice that seems to buzz through Regina's entire body. "Do you honestly think I don't know what you're trying to do?" Her free hand delivers a soft, almost gentle blow to Regina's cheek. Regina quivers, not from the sting but from the unexpected flash of pleasure that burns through her veins. Who would have thought that Emma harbours sides like this.

Not Emma but the Dark One, Regina tells herself as she stares up at her opponent, who in her turn is eyeing her appreciatively.

"What am I trying to do then?" She utters defiantly, wriggling her hands until Emma is forced to let her go. Without granting herself a second of triumph, Regina snaps her fingers and shiny black metal starts growing around Emma's wrist, holding it effectively in place above her head.

"You think you can exhaust me," Emma smirks, not at all bothered by the constraint, "You think you can lure me into wasting my power until it's drained." Another click of fingers and a chain sprouts from the first cuff, enclosing Emma's other hand and pulling it up too. Still the Dark One doesn't move, doesn't fight it. Regina is beginning to feel a bit uncertain about her plan to bind Emma's wrists. It should render her helpless, incapable of using her magic, so why doesn't she look the least bit concerned? Why is she smiling still?

"This is kinky," Emma mentions, almost conversationally. Regina cocks her head.

"Usually I'm the dominant one," she says, in spite of her instincts' warning not to trust her victory yet. A grave mistake.

"I am the Dark One!" Emma suddenly roars, and never in her life has Regina been so glad about the existence of soundproof spells. At least Henry's safe, she thinks, as she's hurled backwards into the couch. Emma, inexplicably, has freed herself from the handcuffs. Her face is contorted with rage as she attacks Regina with blasts and blasts of magic.

"How can you think my power would be finite?" She screams and wrecks the couch on top of Regina who barely has time to roll away.

"How can you think you could shackle me? Dominate me?" She screeches and the iron chains turn into snakes at her feet and lunge at Regina.

"Why won't you let me take you?" She cries and yes, she's crying now, and as they fall, her tears become ice spears that are aiming at Regina.

"After everything I've done for you!" And at this Emma breaks down, collapses into a small heap on the floor that's shaken by sobs. With her deflate the snakes, until they're just iron again, curled around Regina's legs. It is very silent all of a sudden, and Regina stands in the middle of her demolished living room, watching her friend cry.

"Emma," she says cautiously after a while, because the woman before her is Emma now, Emma in all her broken glory, Emma the abused saviour, Emma, still breathing under her cloak of darkness.

Emma, who is now lifting her head, face stained with too much mascara. It looks like the darkness is bleeding out of her with every black tear that's rolling down her cheeks, but Regina knows this is not the case, unfortunately. Darkness doesn't yield to grief, quite contrary. It consumes it, forges it into yet another weapon, feeds on it until it's strong enough to take over control. Which means, Regina has to play on this break now, has to use it to talk to Emma before the woman she likes, loves as she realizes now, becomes captive to the Dark One again.

"Emma," she says again, stepping out of the chains and hurrying to the shaking heap. She hesitates briefly, before reaching out to gingerly wrap her arms around Emma. A sigh shudders through them both as Emma accepts the embrace and leans into Regina.

"I just wanted..." Emma begins but Regina shushes her before she can finish her sentence.

"You don't have to explain yourself," she murmurs into Emma's hair and god, why didn't they hug before? Why did it have to come to a catastrophe for her to realize how much she'd yearned for this?

"But I want to explain," Emma protests, muffled against Regina's shoulder, still weak but already defiant again. Regina smiles and releases her reluctantly. Emma's hair is still the Dark One's, her face still greyish white, but her eyes look at Regina the same way they've always had. Or, not exactly the same, because when they were reserved and secretive before, they now shine with a brutal honesty that makes Regina squirm under their gaze. Emma Swan has let her walls down.

"I meant what I said earlier," Emma says at the same time as Regina blurts out: "Don't tell me things you'll regret later."

Emma frowns. "Stop interrupting me, Regina." Her voice rings with a newfound authority that has Regina look at her in alarm, certain that the darkness has regained control. But Emma's eyes remain soft and full of emotion, and her lips form a smile instead of a sneer. Regina relaxes a bit.

"As I was saying," Emma then continues as if nothing happened, "I meant what I said, about me still being me and the darkness simply giving me courage." She takes a deep breath. "I've meant every word I said and I've meant every move I made. I see the way you look at me, Regina, I know that you want me. Yet you're acting as if you hate me. Why?" Her eyes search Regina's and first now does Regina notice how tired Emma looks. How worn, how sad, how, yes, broken. And Regina realizes, she can't lie to her.

"Because," she therefore begins, her voice feeling scratchy in her throat as she fights her own terror about admitting her thoughts. "Because I like you, Emma, very much. And I can't let the Dark One ruin your life even more by sleeping with me without your consent. I can't let the darkness abuse you. I'm not gonna lie, I was tempted. It's your body I desire, but it's your mind I love and I can't do this to you." Regina's voice breaks and she realizes she's crying too now. "I can't do this to you," she repeats weakly and prays, for the sake of both of them, that the Dark One won't choose this moment to return.

"But Regina, don't you see?" Emma whispers, her hands reaching for Regina's. "I am the Dark One." She says it differently now, softer, soothing. "I am consenting. This is me acting, all me, body and mind and heart if you so will, and everything is striving after you."

And Regina is shaking her head, not believing, never believing, although she absorbs every single word Emma is saying.

"Regina, listen!" Emma says, sharper now. Regina is listening, but she wishes she wasn't, wishes she didn't have to hear the words that are too good to be true.

"Didn't I become the Dark One for you?" Emma inquires, "Didn't I give you the dagger as a token of my trust?"

"And yet you erased our memories from Camelot," Regina counters, her mind clinging to this one sane thought in a desperate attempt to withstand the madness Emma's offering.

"To protect you!" Emma says, louder, as if she feels that she's losing Regina. "Camelot was a disaster. A broken kingdom with a corrupt king. Arthur, he didn't help us to find Merlin - he sabotaged all our plans. Everything, this whole mission to Camelot failed, and in the end, bringing us back to Storybrooke was the only thing I could do to save us... Taking your memories was a necessity in the process, but believe me, I'll only keep them until I've sorted out the dangers that are still present."

"What dangers?" Regina whispers when Emma doesn't continue. Her thoughts are racing to keep up with Emma's tale. In a horrible way it all makes sense, matches up with what few memories Regina has of Camelot and its leader. The shrewd look Arthur gave them when they first arrived to the kingdom, the scheming in his glance, the triumphant smile. "What dangers?" She repeats, urgently now, afraid.

"I can't tell you," Emma says, not meeting Regina's eyes. She sounds apologetic but also stubborn, a faint trace of the original Emma in her voice and Regina's heart would warm if it weren't so frustrating.

"Emma," she sighs and the woman before her crumples.

"I'm sorry." Barely a whisper.

"Why did you come here?" Regina asks, equally low. Her heart is still pounding and her skin crawls where Emma has touched her and while she's glad they're talking now, a tiny part of her wishes they could go back to kissing. A tiny part that Regina deliberately chooses to ignore.

"I needed to see someone," Emma murmurs, still evading Regina's gaze. "To know what I'm fighting for."

"But why me?"

A frown settles on Emma's brow, her lips forming a pout and for a second she looks so much like Emma that Regina almost jerks away, the proximity suddenly overwhelming her. She doesn't have the right to be here, cradling Emma's face, not while all they are is friends and both of them have a boyfriend waiting. And yet Emma doesn't move away, doesn't tell her no. Only looks at her in this intoxicating defiance.

"Because I made a mistake. And I will fix it but I needed to be sure first."

"Sure of what?" Regina breathes, although she already has an inkling what Emma is going to say. And indeed:

"Your feelings," Emma affirms her suspicions, and for the first time tonight the blonde looks nervous. "You do have feelings for me, right?"

Regina closes her eyes. Her head is swimming, the late hour and extensive display of magic at last taking its toll.

"Emma..."

"Please." The word is carefully enunciated, every letter pronounced with a purpose that lets Regina know just how much it costs Emma to say it. "I promise I will sort this out, I promise I can. I just need to have something that I can come back to. I need you to be there when I do. I... need you."

"And I need you," Regina whispers, because what else is there to say? What point is there in resistance when all the walls have been torn down anyway, when her heart lies bare and hurting amidst the ruins? When Emma has already seen it in its truest state, what use is there in lying? "I need you, Emma," she therefore repeats, her hands still cupping Emma's cheeks, her eyes mapping every inch of Emma's face. "I need you to come back. If I let you go now - promise you will come back."

"As long as you'll have me," Emma says, "I will always come back."

And she snaps before Regina can say anything else, dissolving into grey smoke between Regina's fingers.

#swanqueen #swanqueen fanfiction #sq fanfic #my writing #dark swan #uhhhhhhhhhhh so yeah this got out of hand at some parts whoops #come get yall some dark swan smut hehe #okay its not real smut #but close enough #also this is partly very old (like from a few years back) so dont judge past-zoes writing too much pls #thank u #anyhoo time to wrap up the tag rant #zoe out #sq

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dracowars · 4 years ago

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Hi! I was wondering if I could request a Draco fic where he and Y/N are cuddling together when Y/N receives an owl from her parents in which they give her bad news or scold her or something like that. Then she completely freaks out/shuts down and Draco calms her down and comforts her. I'm just really craving fluff and I love caring and protective Draco and would love to read something like this. If you don't wanna write it tho, that's a-okay. Thank you!

cursed | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x greengrass!reader

word count: 1,4k

summary: where draco comforts y/n after receiving bad news

a/n: omg, i'm so so sorry that this took so long!!! :(

warnings: angst, mentions of death

universe: harry potter

“AHH! Draco, stop it, please!”, you beg him in the middle of your fit of laughter, your body writhing under his while trying to avoid his tickling attacks. Because of all the laughter, your stomach already hurts, and your breathing turned irregular. Draco, on the other hand, does not seem as exhausted as you and therefore he does not even think about stopping any time soon and shows no mercy as he continues to tickle you.

“Make me”, he gives you a slick grin when he stops briefly to give you a break and to position himself on top of you, his legs on either side of your upper body.

Again, you try to stop him and try to get a hold of his hands until you finally manage to catch one of his arms in a firm grip. Breathing hard, you look in each other’s eyes and you immediately know that you have no chance against him. Draco is much stronger than you and will be able to get out of your grip quickly.

He would have been able to if it had not been for a white snowy owl flying in through the open window, landing on the small bedside table next to your head and looking at you with big eyes when neither Draco nor you move an inch. A rolled-up letter is attached to its foot and your heartbeat quickens all of a sudden when you realize that this white owl belongs to your family, the pureblood family Greengrass.

And whenever you get a letter from home, it always means trouble.

Quietly clearing your throat after a few seconds have passed, Draco finally crawls off you so you can sit up and remove the parchment from the owl’s claw, but not without exchanging worried looks with Draco beforehand. Happy to have been relieved of its heavy load, the snowy owl rises back into the air before disappearing out the window into the bright sunshine.

You sit on the edge of Draco’s bed with the long letter in your hands, already shaking in fear from the uncertainty of what you may read in it. Draco knows this and also about your bad relationship with your parents, which is why he sits down next to you instantly and gently strokes up and down your back with his hand. The atmosphere in the room suddenly changes as tension fills the air, the joy from only a few seconds ago gone with the owl that delivered the letter.

“I am sure they just want to congratulate you on passing your OWL’s”, Draco tries to calm you down and lowers his head to be able to look into your face, which is now only covered by a blank expression. Putting his index finger under your chin, he lifts your head up and leads you to him, looking straight into your eyes, his own gray ones still radiating concern.

“You know my parents”, you sigh out loud and slowly remove your face from his grasp, focusing your gaze back on the letter that is still closed. You slightly run your thumb over the green wax seal, which shows the crest of your family. For a brief moment, you close your eyes, mentally preparing yourself for what is to come – at least you try – and finally open the envelope.

While your eyes fly over the lines and paragraphs, Draco keeps his distance, but also keeps an eye on you the whole time, trying to already get a clue about what your parents could have wrote through your expression. It would be nothing new if they would scold you again or complain about your insufficient performance in Hogwarts. Draco has seen all of this before, and he is used to this because he too is struggling with his parents’ high expectations.

Stunned, you lower the letter after you finished reading it, your hands now trembling even more and your eyes full of tears- Your face looks pale and all emotion in your face vanished all of a sudden. You go through the words one by one in your head, repeat them over and over again in order to be able to understand them.

While doing this, however, a tear has already found its way down your cheek, giving Draco the sign that he has given you enough time alone and that you now need him. He quickly moves closer to you again, still remaining careful to still give you the necessary distance you may need.

“Babe? What did they write?”, Draco asks carefully as he brushes a strand of hair from your face and behind your ear. You still do not move at his gentle touch, your gaze fixed straight ahead.

“Whatever they wrote, I am certain that they did not mean it”, Draco continues, only looking into your now sad face. “You are such a wonderful person and your parents-“

“My mother is going to die”, you interrupt him and as soon as the words leave your mouth, you can hardly believe them yourself. Even after everything you read in the letter, even now you still do not understand these words. A sudden silence arises until you blink your tears away and turn to Draco, who still looks at you with shock written all over his face.

“I-I am- I am so sorry”, Draco stutters, just as surprised by your statement as you are. However, not letting another second pass, he pulls you into a tight, loving and overall protective hug. A hug that has always given you more comfort than anyone else could.

Draco gently strokes your hair and lets you cry into his shoulder until you have calmed down a bit. Keeping you at arm’s length in front of him, he looks at you worried, still with big question marks over his head.

“Our- Our family has been cursed for generations already”, you utter while sobbing, wiping away a few of your tears while Draco listens attentively, his hand firmly clasped around yours. “W-With a blood curse.”

After saying this, Draco seems to have no words and you can see that he immediately wonders if you, like your mother, are also affected by this curse.

“I-I do not know if I will have it. I also can’t say whether if affects Daphne or Astoria. In some generations it has never appeared before and was passed onto the next generation nevertheless”, you explain as best you can since your parents never told you and your sisters much about it, after all until recently they assumed that their generation and the one from you and your sisters has been spared. “There is n-no cure. The curse weakens the body to such an extent that it is very likely to result in.. death.”

“Babe, I do not know what to say-“

“You do not have to say anything, Draco. I lied to you. We lied to everyone here. Nobody knows that our family had this deadly curse, otherwise we would- Otherwise the pureblood families would no longer accept us as one of them”, you sniff and try to force a smile onto your face while looking into Draco’s compassionate eyes. “I would like to say that I do not mind that my mother do has the curse after all, but-“

“But she is still your mother, Y/N. No matter how she treated you. You do not have to justify yourself for feeling this way”, Draco assures you and pulls you into his strong arms again, immediately making you feel much safer and more secure. Because of the sudden closeness, all dams break within you and this time you let all of your tears run free. Draco hold your trembling body in his arms and tries to give you the support you need right now. It pains him to see you like this and he can understand how torn you must feel in this situation. Your mother was always the one in particular who pushed you, even forced you, to have good grades in school, and now that you both know what fate she has, it still feels wrong to say that she deserves it.

At this moment, however, you are just glad that you are not alone, that you do not have to carry this burden alone. That you were finally able to tell Draco about your family’s biggest secret. You know that he and your sisters will always be by your side, no matter what the future holds for you.

“Everything will be alright.”

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george-fabian-weasley · 4 years ago

Text

diving deep down — g.w.

Summary: Sometimes you just needed to know that you’re not alone in this world.

Words: 1,726 words

Warnings ⚠ : TW implied depression, TW mental health, TW drowning, mentions of lack of breath, TW implied suicide, Read At Your Own Risk, platonic!george, neutral!reader, mentions of crying, Angst, Happy ending (sort of), comfort!au

Disclaimer: I am sad for a few days now so here I am, writing yet another comfort fic. Please note that if you’re struggling and you need someone to talk to, my messages is always open for you. I love you all so much, you’re not alone. Comments andReblogs are appreciated, enjoy!

masterlist! | general taglist! | buy me a coffee!

It was a quiet night at the Astronomy Tower, most of the students had gone to sleep and there were very few prefects patrolling the school hallways.

You felt at peace.

There was just something about being alone on the Astronomy Tower that feels so... intimate. At this point, it had become a personal spot for you to just come and lay down on the floor, and stare up to the sky. Sometimes the sky would give you a show, a comet shower on rare days or a bright full moon on the other. And sometimes even the sky needs rest, yet still gifting you a night of clouds and rain, lullabying your thoughts to slumber.

Nothing to do up here actually, but that’s what you desired. To do nothing, to wait for nothing, to talk nothing, to be expected of nothing, to expect nothing. In the life of yours that is full of ups and downs like merciless tidal waves of the bottomless ocean crashing upon your small wooden ship, doing absolutely nothing is the spine that holds your sanity in a piece.

In peace.

None of your friends knew about this spot of yours when you're stressed or disheveled, or simply need some time alone. But you're quite fond of it; the thought of them not knowing. Don't get me wrong, you absolutely adore your friends, but alone time is needed very badly for a while. To just be yourself and calm down without the bickering noises or the loud laughter or the constant jabs or the playful sneers.

What you didn't know, though, was one of your friends had kept his eye on you. Every week after dinner, you would always disappear right after dinner to Godric knows where. And George always wondered where you’ve had been.

"So this is where you disappear to every other night," George's voice startled you as you flinched slightly. "Bloody hell, Weasley..." You groaned as you massaged your chest, trying to ease your fast-beating heart from the shock.

"Sorry 'bout that," George muttered and cleared his throat, walking over to sit next to you. You watched him sit down and looked up to the tower's internal dome, "Wow, someone hasn't dusted that ceiling for a while."

You rolled your eyes at his quiet remark, you assumed he's talking to himself in the hushed tone he did. "So, what do you do here?" He asked you, turning to you curiously.

“Nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Nothing like... literally or figuratively?” You sighed quietly, “Literally nothing. I just like to lay down here, stare up to the ceiling or the skies, and take a break from everything,” You briefly explained.

You laid down on your back, hands on the back of your head as you stare up to the dark sky. You saw from the corner of your eyes that he followed you suit, laying down beside you with his arms as his headrest. You glanced at him, he was looking up to the sky with a blank expression, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

You had expected him to say ‘How boring’ or any other sassy remark, but George just stayed silent, being by your side without any other word. And when he did speak, all he said was:

“Do you mind if I join you any other time?”

You pursed your lips at his ask of permission. As much as you would like to have company, the Astronomy Tower has become your safe space for a long while. Suddenly sharing it with someone else, and whisk away the peacefulness and serenity, you only fear for the tidal waves to grow bigger by time; before swallowing you whole like a beast it is created to become.

“I... I don’t know, George. I like it when it’s just me up here,” You answered honestly, sighing heavily, “Let’s just say that this spot is my safe space, and by sharing my safe space with someone, I might lose my mind.”

“I-I don’t expect you to understand so I don’t care if—” “I do understand, so don’t sweat about it.” “... What?” George turned to you with a smile, “I understand, Y/N. You don’t need to explain it to me, I get it,” He said gently, before turning his head back to the sky.

“Sometimes... A safe space is all you need to escape for a while; to make sure that you won’t run away for good.”

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Do-do you...” You trailed off, not wanting to say what it was in your mind. It’s impossible, George has everything he wanted in his life, fame, a loving family, loyal friends, great pranks. His life is incredible.

But with only a somber look he sent your way, you figured that you might be wrong.

“George...” You trailed off, not knowing what else to say. He uncomfortably chuckled, “You know, sometimes I think to myself, why do I feel like this? When I have an amazing family, a supportive twin brother, great friends, and incredible pranks to accomplish. But what I learned over the past few years...” He paused, licking his lips slowly.

“... is that the monster chooses randomly. It chooses without criteria, without any care of the good things in your life. If it chooses you, then so be it.”

You wish to say you don’t know what he’s talking about. But you do, oh you do very well.

“... You could be having a wonderful time with your friends, and when it touches you, everything vanishes and all you could think of are the bad thoughts,” You spoke quietly. George turned to you, huffing a sad smile at the mere thought of you understanding him.

So you’re like him.

“Yeah, what an arsehole,” George tried to joke to lighten up the mood, but the smile on his lips didn’t really last long. “... I don’t even know why it chooses me. Out of all people in the world, it chooses me to be the host of these-these crumbling thoughts...” You continued, eyebrows furrowing at the frustration brewing inside of you.

“And they stayed,” George muttered. You sighed, “For a while, too.” George huffed a cynical smile, “It’s giving us such a cruel game to play. Winning or losing, but at what cost?” You blinked slowly, feeling your heart ache heavily at the thought of your friend suffering as much as you do, or even more than you thought.

“... Everything.”

“Truth to be told...” You trailed off, gulping at the nerves you had to say this sudden confession to George. “I think I’m losing the game,” You whispered, wishing to God that he wouldn’t hear you so you won’t have to repeat yourself.

“Why would you feel that?” His soft voice didn’t do you any justice.

“At first, I found the feelings as silly, so I brushed them away,” You bit your lips, still debating whether you should tell him or not. Whether you should burden him with your feelings or not. “I kept getting these thoughts one by one and I thought I can endure it but it just,” You find your eyebrows furrowing at the lump of your throat growing bigger and bigger, “it keeps coming and coming and coming until I had to accept them all at some point at the same time and I just... I felt so out of breath,” The words coming out of your mouth were getting faster as time passed by as if if you don’t let them out in time, they’ll never come back out again.

The dams of your tears had broken down. Your chest was heaving up and down without rhythm and you felt your lungs constricting all the air you had.

“They’re- they’re choking me and I can’t breathe I- I feel like I’m drowning, I’m diving deep down in the ocean and-and I can’t swim and slowly and slowly and slowly I- I can’t see the light anymore and I- I’m losing the game, George! I’m losing the game-” Your voice had cracked and you were sobbing on the floor, the desperation in your voice was so painful for George to hear, he felt like your words had created a mirror; broken down into little pieces of sharp-edged glass. And each one of them had struck him straight into his heart.

But his hand gripped yours securely.

You looked down to the intertwined hands, and you looked up at him already staring at you, “You’re not losing the game, Y/N,” His voice; firm yet trembling, the glint in his eyes tells you that he’s saying this not only for you, but for himself as well, “You’re fighting it.”

“You’re fighting it, and you are so strong for doing so. The cruelest game to be created, and you’re fighting through it. You’re fighting, like the fighter you are,” George’s sudden words of encouragement caused you to feel your chest constricting. Your eyes suddenly feel heavy with teardrops, you felt heard. You felt needed. You felt supported.

So with tears still rolling down your cheeks, you squeezed George’s hands, “Like the fighters we are,” You voiced out, a small, quivering smile on your lips. George felt warmth in his insides, grateful to have an understanding and supportive friend like you. He nodded and cracked a wide grin; amidst all the tears rolling down and wetting the floor, “Like the fighters we are.”

You stared at his bloated eyes and red nose, smiling to yourself gratefully, “I don’t know how you do it,” You said honestly. “What? Staying alive? I’m scraping on the floor,” George deadpanned, causing you to laugh at the sudden brutal honesty.

George scoffed a curious smile at you, wiping away his tears, “Is my agony funny to you?” You couldn’t stop laughing so you only nodded, causing you to be shoved at the shoulder with a dramatic “Hey!”

It only caused you to laugh more, unfortunately for George.

He watched as you laughed at him, and without him knowing it, he was laughing with you. As the both of you calmed down, you smiled gratefully at him, your hand squeezing his again, “At least we’re not diving deep down in the ocean.”

“Well, this time,” George turned back to the sky, the first genuine smile on his lips of the night, “We’ll fight our best not to.”

TAGLIST:

@multifandom-but @sirenswhispers @lilac-skies-xd @obsessedunicorn24 @foggyturtleknightangel@evewithluv@softlyqoos @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lilypad-55449 @fiantomartell @hopemalfoyweasley @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @bucketandpotato@klausdatprettyboi @adoregin @littlechillies @phuvioqhile @sweetnspicysimp @wand3ringr0s3 @harrypotter289 @emptyporsche @tallyovie @the-unmanaged-mischief @missmulti @gcdricreads @moonvicake @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @loveboyhalo @lupinsclassroom @breadqueen95 @iwritesiriusly @weasleyclaw @sevsbitxh @freds-slut @acosmis-t @colorfulprofessornickelangel @vote4weasleys @anchoeritic@alluringshawn @cute-sidney@anna-banana-13 @lostaurorax @emrysts @rosietoesy @lilgeorgie78 @prismarts @an2402lths

#george weasley #harry potter #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley imagine #george weasley angst #tw suicide #tw mental health #tw safe space

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jflemings · 4 years ago

Text

you don’t need to prove yourself to me | spencer reid

summary: the BAU gets called into a local homicide case where all the victims have been women. You end up questioning the unsub and he hits a bit too close to home.

warnings: murder, aggressive tones & language, mentions of violence against women, substance abuse & domestic violence is mentioned, normal cm type stuff ends in fluff tho!

note from the author: This fic might get pretty heavy for some people reading, nothing too major. substance abuse is mentioned as is minor domestic violence but does not go into detail it is just for the sake of the plot. do not read if you feel like you are not comfortable with these topics!

word count: 5k - I am so sorry but this fic wouldn't make sense to make into two parts whoops

“The unsub in question is presumably a white male in his mid to late fifties with some sort of prior anger issues. He may seem relatively approachable at first, often may be charming to people he first meets but has an underlying sense of self rightousness and hatred towards women.” Hotch says before looking at you to continue.

Your attention shifts from your superior to the crowd of police officers in front of you “Chances are he’s a family man, a local. someone who knows his way around the area and can hide in plain sight. Depreciating jokes about women and possibly even a spouse could be in his humor, most likely he holds old sexist values. Grew up in an abusive household or with no mother which is where his lack of respect for women stems from.” you conclude your statement with a scan around the room, getting a feel for the reactions in the crowd before JJ starts to pull you away to a back office where the team has been set up temporarily this morning.

The door closes with a soft click as JJ leans up against it, her hand still on the handle. The sound of shifting papers fills the suddenly very obvious quiet room while you stand at the desk organising the case file and any evidence left on the desk, your long time friend stares at you and you can feel her eyes burning into the left side of your face before breaking her silence.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” the calm tone floats through the room as you stop shuffling papers and look up to the photos of the women on the evidence board before making eye contact with your most respected colleague

“I grew up with these women. One of them was my tutor in math when I was a sophomore, JJ!. To you guys these women are strangers but to me they’re friendly faces whom I’ve been with since I was a toddler and it frustrates me so much to not know if I’m waiting around for a dead body of an old classmate” A breath releases itself from your lungs and a weight has started to lift off of your shoulders and be replaced with a steady hand.

“This sick son of a bitch isn’t going to be doing this for much longer. We’re gonna catch him, y/n and I promise you can be the one to put his head on a stick” Her reassuring gaze and firm but kind smile is enough to put you at ease before Reid comes busting through the door.

His eyes are locked on you

“There’s been an attack” is all he can get out before your blood runs cold and you’re out of the station making a beeline for Hotch in the parking lot.

His back is turned to you but it doesn’t take a genius to know that right now he’s determined to find the unseen before it’s too late.

“Hotch! what’s going on!?” His name desperatly leaves your mouth before you, JJ and Spencer are stood in front of him

“a young woman was attacked two blocks away from her home, she fought back and is okay but may need to be taken to hosptial. She specifically asked for you”

You can feel the colour rapidly drain from your face, your great rate sky rocketing “Where was she attacked?”

“Corner of Anderson and Meyers street”

The street is lined with patrol cars and officers when you pull up with spencer, your hands on the wheel are shaking and white and you can’t control the over whelming feeling in the core of your stomach.

Your blank stare and lack of response doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend of a year. He reaches over to put the car in park and then gently takes your hands off the steering wheel and placing them in his own .

“Y/N look at me. She’s okay. She’s alive and she wants to speak with you. She fought and he couldn’t grab her.” Spencer’s slow tone is attention grabbing enough for your eyes to pry themselves away from the scene in front of you.

His eyes soften when he sees the tears brimming in your own and feels the ever so slight shake coming from your palms. Spencer had seen you cry before, yes, but not like this; the BAU had taken plenty of cases like this one but it was obvious to him now that you had taken this far more personal than he had initially though. His left hand removed itself from yours and brushed some fly away hairs behind your ear before gently resting it on the side of your face.

“if you want, we can sit here for a minute I’ll call Hotch now and tell him to take the lead and we’ll sit and yo-” He begins to ramble and you move his hand from your face so you can ahem his full attention.

“Spence, it’s okay. You and I can go over and speak with the victim; I’m going to be fine” you spoke softly with a smile on your face de before the both of you unbuckled yourselves and headed towards the ambulance parked in front of the corner.

The young woman is sitting in he back of the ambulance whilst holding an ice pack to the right side of her arm. Emily stands in front of her trying to get any information she can when you approach so you can take over.

“Thanks, Em. Reid and I can take over” you say before she puts a hand on or arm and walks away so your undivided attention is now on the woman in the back of the ambulance.

“Hello my name is Dr Reid and this is my partner Agent L/N, you- uh insisted you speak with us” Spencer introduces whilst flicking his gaze from you to the victim.

It’s like a tidal wave of realisation comes over you once you finally get a good look at the person in front of you “Oh my god- are you okay?” both hands grip the woman’s shoulders is utter disbelief and a look of concern is now occupying your features. “Ellie, what did he try to do to you?” the question comes out rushed while your eyes scan her body.

“Y/N! oh my god you’ll never believe it! I was just doing my normal track and when I got to this corner he tried to grab me. He held a knife to my stomach and threatened to stabbed me if I screamed but I couldn't take any chances so I hit him in his ribs and then heeled his toes as hard as I could but he still managed to get me on my arm and hip” She said exhausted, like she had just re lived it right in front of you. Stress crossed her features and her hand gripped her forehead.

You turn to your dumbfounded boyfriend standing beside you and you remembered that he had yet to properly meet your high school best friend.

“Ellie this is Spencer” you gestured to him and Ellie looked like she had finally found a thought that was floating in her brain “My boyfriend spencer” you clarified.

Instinctively, she stuck her hand out for him to shake “Oh of course! You’re the cute doctor” she smiled graciously when he did take her hand while Spence side eyed you.

“Sorry we aren’t meeting under better circumstances” He gave her a tight lipped smile before taking out his notebook “We were just wondering if we could ask a few questions? We’re not too sure we can wait ‘till after you’ve been checked out of hospital” spencer said.

You agreed with him “Did you happen to get a look at his face? or possibly any identifying characteristics” you quizzed while she racked her brain for some answers.

She sighed before answering “His hair was clean cut, like he had just gotten it done and his eyes were kind of deep set- like he hadn’t had a good nights sleep in at least a couple of months” she hesitated before looking at Reid “He wasn’t as tall as Spencer but he still had a bit of height on him, I think came up just past his shoulder” She stopped again and mindlessly scanned the crowd of uniformed officers before she set her sights back onto you. “The shirt Y/N! underneath his hoodie he wore a grey collard shirt that looked exactly like the police uniform”

Spencer’s head whipped around to the crowd of officers, either trying to find your superior or trying to find the suspected unsub. You wracked your brain, thoughts flying in and out of your head a million miles a minute. Nerves once again invaded your stomach and you started to rock from foot to foot trying to come up with someone- anyone- who possibly fit this profile and then it happened.

A light bulb moment. A realisation. A solution to all your problems went off in your brain.

You grabbed the thing closest to you which was coincidentally spencer’s right forearm “Tell Hotch we need everyone back at the station as well as photos taken of all uniform officers from the past fifteen years, I need to get onto Garcia asap I think I know who our unsub is” Your tone was firm and merely unfamiliar to Spencer, you had never spoken to him like that before so he knew you meant business.

You had taken your phone out of your back pocket and turned in the direction of the car, starting to rush away from the ambulance before spencer caught up with you and caught your arm in his hand

“Where are you going?” Once said out loud he knew it was a stupid question and judging by the flat look on your face you did too. he let out a defeated sigh “No, I know exactly where you’re going but I mean what are you doing going back without the team?”

His eyes scanned your face and he dropped his head so the two of you were on the same level “If the unsub is a uniformed officer I’m not letting you go back to the station without the team. We don’t know if he’s out here with us right now or back a the station waiting” His tone was hushed and firm like he wanted to make sure neither of you could be heard but also to ensure you knew that he meant what he was saying.

“Spen-”

“No Y/N” He now stood at his full stature which you were now coming to realise could be quite intimidating “Do not argue with me about this. This guy, animal, absolute son of a bitch targets women, seemingly people he knows. You’re a local and started out as a uniformed officer in this precinct so if you genuinely think that there is even a slither of a chance that I’m going to let you walk back into that station you are very much mistaken” He was confident as assertive when he spoke to you and when he finished his chest started to rise and fall with frustrated breaths.

He had never spoken to you like that or told you what you could and couldn’t do, especially when it came to a case. Spencer adored you- practically worshiped the very ground you walked on- because he had the up most faith in you and respect for you. He was very confident in the fact that you could take care of yourself with or without a gun strapped to your belt.

You visibly deflated and let out a deep sigh neither of you were aware you were holding in. Spencer once again got down to your eye level

“Okay Spence, okay” you reassured him.

You caught sight of Morgan over Spencer’s shoulder and called to him

“Get the team back to the precinct and Garcia on the phone Derek!” your voice caught the attention of Gideon and JJ who was giving you a nod when you turn back to spencer and motion to get in the car.

While stopped at traffic lights Spencer dialled Garcia’s number and put it on speaker phone

“You have reached the resident genius what can I do for you my sweet?” Penelope’s voice sang through the phone and spencer made a face at the use of ‘resident genius’

“Pen I need you to pull up the most recent photos taken of the uniformed officers at this precinct and look for a white man, mid to late fifties with a clean cut haircut, deep set eyes and he’ll have scars that look like fingernail scratches at the base of his neck” you could feel spencer’s curious mind get the better of him when you included that last detail but you were determined not tot make your eyes off the road.

“Bingo baby! Nick Kane, fifty five years old standing at five foot nine with, exactly like you said, three long fingernail-like scars at the base of his neck” she stated a-matter-a-factly

A knowing smile came over your features “pull up anything you can find on him, a record, any house calls or complaints, anything that was maybe payed off or covered up”

“you seem to know a lot about this guy, L/N” Penelope quizzed

Reid could see the hesitation in your eyes as your grip tightened on the wheel

“Don’t question it” you said through gritted teeth

“Oh no I uh- I wasn’t”

Your eyes slightly widened “No pen, not you”

Garcia seemed to understand “I’ll have that faxed over for you my love”

A small smile found it’s way upon your lips “thank you P”

Spencer hung up the phone and looked out his window not noticing the glances you threw his way.

By the time you and Spence pulled up to the station you were in full on work mode. You were practically burning holes into the ground with your feet when you marched up to Morgan and Emily with your boyfriend hot on your heels.

“I need the both of you to get information on Nick Kane’s whereabouts on this afternoon’s patrol. Ask any officers or detectives if they saw him leave the station at what time and if they didn’t ask them when the last time they saw him was” The words tumbled out of your mouth and all your two friends could do was nod

Emily smiled proudly at you “all over it, Hotch is in there now but I’m not too sure he’s very successful” she nodded her head to the back where the interrogation rooms were. Derek nodded in agreement

“Garcia also said that the files you asked her to fax over are ready” Morgan read the text off his phone which earned a grateful smile from you before walking off to grab the papers with all three of your co workers following you with their eyes.

Derek turned back around to face spencer who had worry written all over his face “Alright man, what’s going on? we got the bad guy, no one was majorly hurt today which means you can rest easy tonight”

Spencer came back down to earth at the sound of his long-time friend’s voice. He sighed in defeat “We might have the bad guy, nothing is concrete right now even if he fits the profile, the victim was incredibly lucky that he only got her arm and hip and I can’t rest easy tonight because I know that Y/N is hiding something” Spencer’s hands flailed as he rambled, completely missing the look Emily gave him.

“Hiding something? Spence what are you talking about? If she was hiding something she’d be hiding it from us, not you. I genuinely don’t think theres anything in the world that you don’t know about her” Emily said trying to calm him even a little bit

“I thought you two agreed not to profile each other anyway? wasn’t that, like one of the first things you agreed on even when you were friends” Morgan raised an eyebrow

“This isn’t me being an FBI agent and profiling her, it’s me being her boyfriend and worrying about her. She’s taken his case to heart more than I thought she would. It hits too close to home for her” Spencer concluded while he scuffed his feet at the old carpet floor “And I know that there were women killed that she knew personally but her demeanor changed once she figured out who our potential unsub was and I can’t figure out why...” Spencer begins to trail off when his eyes follow Hotch leaving the interrogation room.

Emily and Morgan follow his eye line and begin to follow after him.

The first thing the doctor notices is that Hotch is more rigid than normal. His brow is furrowed low and his posture is stiff against the table he’s leaning on with his mouth set in a concrete frown and before he can register what just happened in the interrogation room three of his agents are standing in front of them asking for their co worker. A deep and tired sigh can be heard before the trio of agents is rushing toward the room where he just was, JJ and Gideon already watching the scene unfold from behind the two way glass.

A box with the last name Kane scribbled onto the front is slated down on the desk followed by a very angry agent.

The skin around her cuticles is bleeding from being picked at all day but her face is stern and cold so if she truly was as anxious as she had been through the day you would never know.

The dirty cop is relaxed when Y/N sits down in front of him, he’s leant back in the chair with his hands placed on his thighs casually almost as if he’s with a friend or at home and unknowingly to agent L/N her colleagues are less relaxed from behind the glass.

Morgan is first to point out the obvious.

“He doesn't seem nervous or even on edge about being questioned; shows he’s been in that same position before” he states, not taking his eye off the room

Gideon hesitates before he speaks “That’s because he has been: a few years ago he was brought in for substance possession after a bag was found during a warrant in his home”

Derek’s face contorts “why did they have a warrant?”

Agent Gideon doesn’t look at Morgan when he replies “illegal firearm possession as well as concerns of domestic violence both charges were dropped”

Your eyes briefly look up from the manila folder in your hands containing details of each of the murders in you hand to the man sitting in front of you. A picture of a middle aged woman is put directly in front of the officer “I don’t have to ask you if you know who this is because we know you were with her the night before she died” you state

Nick kisses his teeth “yes, I was with her the night before but I was also with her husband”

“her husband who has a solid alibi unlike you” another photo comes out from the folder “she went missing at five am and was found around seven thirty am in a bush, her husband had left for work at four thirty and clocked in five thirty”

Two more sets of photos are spread in front of the offender and he was only yet to shift in his seat. You kept eyeing the other folders in the box, the older ones but you were waiting for an opportunity one where he would just slip up and you’d have him.

Spencer’s nails may have well been chewed to the bed from pure anxiety of seeing you sit in that room. You’d obviously done interrogations like this before but a feeling that spencer couldn’t shake was sitting at the bottom of your stomach.

With Hotch now back in the room everyone was even more on edge.

“He hasn’t said anything useful while she’s been in there?” the monotone voice broke through the silence of the onlooking room.

“Not yet but the more photos she pulls out the more on edge he gets. Not noticeably to anyone but a profiler of course but he seemingly gets a little bit more uneasy every time a new victim is pulled out of the folder” JJ informs. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Reid chewing on his nails while not taking his eyes off of his girlfriend she slaps his hand away and passes a small smile to let him know that you knew what she was doing.

“Reid what’s the matter with you? She can take care of herself” Gideon calmly asks. The debate going on in the youngest team members head is a hard one because on one hand he doesn’t want to sound like a paranoid boyfriend but on the other he needs some reassurance and maybe his superiors can give that to him.

“Y/N has been on edge since we took this case on and I know it’s because she grew up here and there were people she grew up with murdered but since she got the idea into her head that this was our guy I just feel like she’s hiding something” the ramble stops and eyes fall on Reid but his only concern is what Jason Gideon thinks

Jason purses his lips “I know she’s hiding something but thought nothing of it because I was under the assumption that you knew what it was” for the first time since entering the room Spencer and Jason make eye contact.

“Your boss asked me about the scars on my neck”

Reid’s concentration is lost and once again all eyes are back on you

“Did he now?” Your shock is masked by the cold set frown that you’ve had on your face since the minute you stepped into the station.

Kane leans forward over the desk, his hands coming together infant of him “yes he did, was very curious to hear about how I got them which made me think: if Aaron Hotchner isn’t aware of how I got them then certainly your little boyfriend isn’t either” the smirk is set on his face

Reid’s ears perk up

“I was under the impression that you had to have a clean record to go into the FBI work that you do”

you lean forward in the slightest “My record is squeaky clean. Yours on the other hand, isn’t”

Eyebrows raise in surprise.

You pull another folder from the box but this time it’s dated back to seven years ago when domestic violence complaints first started getting called in. First piece of paper is pulled out and you continue to read.

“Complaints of screaming, excessive cussing from two of your neighbours, January 16th 2004, yet again complaints of screaming, cussing and loud bangs July 25th 2004, sudden screaming and what sounded like a heavy piece of furniture falling March 16th 2005, same thing November 21st and 25th, Glass shattering, shouting police are called but nothing gets further done August 2006″ you pause from your reading and look him dead in the eyes.

Left hand rubs forehead

Another folder.

“April 2007 a warrant was issued for your home for suspected possession of substances, charges dropped. Any further domestic violence complaints or charges were dropped after May that same year until September 2009 when your wife was sent to hospital with critical injuries; the matter was under further investigation until early January of 2010 when you wrote a cheque for $14,000 to get those charges dropped and cleared”

Hand rubs scars, obviously a nervous habit picked up after the incident

The man shifts in his seat again “Don’t think I’ve forgotten because I haven’t” the sentence grinds it’s way through his teeth

You merely relax your posture and speak calmly “Not my record, not my problem” a small smirk sits comfortably on your face. “We know what you did to these women, Nick. This case has your name written all over it.”

From the opposite side of the glass spencer wracks his brain to put all the pieces together “not my record, not my problem” he mumbles to no one in particular. The genius looks back on old conversations only to realise one topic that had never really come up in conversation between the two of you.

“The mother” he says out loud. Confused faces cast their attention to the doctor.

Spencer hesitates “When she talks about the record, she’s talking about her mother”

Emily raises an eyebrow “How’d you figure that?”

Gideon intercepts before his agent can even get a word in “You ever seen a man make scratches like that?”

“Know what I did? My family fell apart, I have no one” His hands slam on the table sitting between the both of you “I bet you don’t even know what you’re talking ab-”

This time it’s your turn to slam the desk

“I know damn well about the four counts of aggravated assault against an officer, the drug possession, the attempted fraud! I know every last fucking bit of it! I know you try to pull my brother in here to charge him with whatever you can! the number of vandalism charges and assault charges don’t even scratch the surface!” anger surges through you and suddenly Spencer has it all figured out.

“So what makes you so clean huh? Why does assault cover your immediate families records but not your own huh?!” He spits at you

You’ve had enough

Quick to stand, the chair you were sitting on suddenly slides back behind you, hands are planted firmly on the top of the table and now you’re standing right over him

JJ jumps back in fright straight into Derek who takes no time to grab her and steady her. Emily and Gideon are speechless, not once has anyone seen you react to something like that. Hotch places a firm hand on Spender’s shoulder which ultimately goes unnoticed. He gets it now.

Colour drains from his face

“I’m better at controlling my temper but I’ll still hit you twice as hard” the words flow out of your mouth so calmly anyone standing outside the door might think you were talking to a frightened child.

Eyes search for any sign of remorse and find none

Garcia calls Derek’s phone to let him and the team know that while Ellie had escaped, Nick got sloppy and left something behind.

Gideon’s voice filters through your earpiece “DNA was found on Ellie”

You can’t help but smile

“Your DNA has just been found on your most recent victim Nick, you’ve got nothing left”

Got him.

The box of files is in your hands when you walk out of the interrogation room and practically body slam your boyfriend. Kind eyes look down at you pleadingly “Got given the all clear to go home, do you want to have a chat?” the sentence is just above a whisper but the genuine worried expression etched upon his face is all you need to know.

Spencer starts the engine before driving out of the carpark and onto the road. Thick silence sits in the air and all of a sudden the car feels to small even though you are the only two in it. Mindlessly picking at your fingernails means you didn’t notice Spencer pulling into the McDonalds drive through to order two hot fudge sundaes with extra topping - your tradition after a particularly difficult case. He wordlessly hands you the tray while he picks the furtherest car park in the parking lot and stops the car. You hand him his ice cream and noticing his chewed nails you grab his hand.

“Spence”

“Watching you in there today was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do but knowing that you felt like you couldn’t come to me based off of the fact that you thought I-I would be upset or angry or not understanding was something that I don’t know how to deal with” He grabs the ice cream tray off of your lap and places them in the cup holder before unbuckling his seatbelt and turning his full attention to you.

“Y/N you mean the world to me, truly you do, I can’t think of anyone else in this world I would want to spend the rest of my life with so I’m telling you now that I love you unconditionally and I want you to know that even if that didn't happen today and you didn't feel like you would be able to tell me about your family I would happily wait for as long as you needed me to until you felt like you were ready for that and I’m sorry that he felt the need to say it in front of myself and our team.

His hands are cold against your flushed face and you flutter your eyes closed momentarily before looking hime in the eye.

“I didn't want this to affect my work life or the opinions of our team or your opinion of me I was- well I- I hid it because I want to prove to people that I can come from a household like that and still be a good person. a good agent” your confession made his eyes glass over and his smile soften.

“You have proved yourself time and time again to not only me but to the team. You handled it so well today even after what he chose to say to you. Y/N I am so unbelievably proud of you and the person you are, nothing is going to change that” His thumb stroked your cheek before he giggled to himself

“Plus telling him that you could hit him twice as hard was pretty hot I’m not gonna- hey! no! I’m being serious”

The sound of your laughs filled the car and the once heavy feeling was now light and airy when he brought your lips to his.

“Spence, these ice creams are gonna melt and I want to eat them”

#long reads #spencer x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #doctor reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #pegswrites

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