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dollgxtz · 5 months ago

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Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.

#umi writes ♡︎#sylus x reader #love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader smut #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds smut #lads #lads smut #lads fic #lads scenarios #l&ds sylus #l&ds #love and deep space x reader #l&ds x reader #sylus x reader fic #love and deep space smut #lads sylus

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alienssstufff · 9 months ago

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smth smth builder’s signature styles whatever - I love how instantly recognisable it is to be in a Bdubs build whilst not be jarring. This shot of both sides of the river is a wonderful example

The custom trees. Are so freaking tall in compare to the default, yet their presence doesn’t feel obstructive. You don’t feel ‘blocked out’ from the environment as the deliberate thinness of the trunks, what height the leaves on the pine start at give just enough breathe room to: look through, catch glimpses of the other side, and be invited to Go Through It.

He says it in his commentary, a lot of what he builds is heavily grounded in realism. This area is not meant to be the centre of attention, the purpose of these trees is to Immerse and act as transition as one leaves the rest of the minecraft world and into Bdubs’ ‘more natural’ one — where the trees are grey, and the water is clear.

I’m so fucking serious this random cut of the river is my favourite part in the entirety of this forest, I like how still it looks, I like how clear it is yet how dark it is not only to imply depth but that illusion that the river is reflecting its surroundings how you can even say the river is a dark green! Being able to come to these interpretations for something so simple to me perfectly captures what he wants in builds like these.

And it STILL doesnt feel out of place because he does something like THIS. The way the stream gets progressively more and more opaque until it meets the actual main river is genius work. It gives the impression the water in Bdubs’ place is fresh in compare to the saltier, deeper water of the larger river it transitions.

😭And a final thing, I know the white glass he used was done to suggest rushing water but I swearrr he has like a sixth sense in how to place them perfectly. (Forgive my shitty camera) From this distance if you squint you can see these dark and lighter shadows made by the trees, and by putting where the white spots are placed now highlights these small rays of sunshine poking through the leaves and shining on the river and I think that’s unintentionally the coolest thing.

whhwwh idk how to end this, I just really liked this new video for reasons above and wanted to tell the world why.

BdoubleO100 you never miss. Forever and ever.

Here’s a shaky picture of Etho on his horse if you’ve made it this far :]

#stufff rambles #bdubs #bdoubleo100 #hermitcraft #Hermitcraft season 10 #yappin about builds like people do to a blorbo analysis we out here

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beenbaanbuun · 2 months ago

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guard dog pt.2 w/ jeong yunho

idk if this will become a series (it absolutely will, i love him). if you have any asks about this little series then i’ll be more than happy to answer them 🥰

warnings - yandere!yunho, hybrid!yunho, role reversal, yunho calls reader puppy, talk of murder, talk of living in a bad neighbourhood, allusions to masturbation, choking

pt1

you were under the impression that by wearing yunho’s jumper, it might piss him off just a little bit

but as you walk into the living room where he lays, limbs slung across the couch that he deemed beneath him no more than a few nights ago, you’re shocked to see a smirk playing on his lips

if you had much more on beneath it, you might have torn it from your body and thrown it at his smug face, but you wouldn’t want to give the mutt the satisfaction of seeing your tits

“going somewhere, puppy?” it’s been three long, arduous days and he still hasn’t dropped the nickname

you’re this close to getting your name tattooed in hold across your forehead; maybe then he won’t forget it

“the shop,” you walk over to grab your boots; heavy and intimidating and perfect for kicking any creep that gets too close, “i want a snack.”

“there’s plenty of food in the fridge,” he deadpans as you make your way over to the sofa

he doesn’t move, not even when you glare so hard at his legs that he can practically feel you burning holes in them

annoying prick

you settle for sitting right on the edge of the cushion, just far enough on to keep yourself from toppling to the floor as you slip your shoes onto your feet

“i don’t want the food in the fridge,” you say simply as you tie your laces, “if i wanted the food in the fridge, i’d eat the food in the fridge.”

a few seconds of silence pass by, and you’re almost positive that he spends them rolling his eyes behind your back

“it’s dangerous to go out at this time on your own,” as if that’s not the most obvious thing in the world

luckily for you, you have the safe streets memorised, and you carry your keys tight in your fist as a make-shift shiv

yunho seems to forget that you’ve lived here far longer than he has; you’re far too used to how dangerous it can be when twilight hits

“nothing stopping you from coming with,” you suggest, although you hope to everything that is holy that he says no

“i’m not getting changed out of my pyjamas, puppy,” a sigh of relief escapes your mouth as he gives you what want

“well, i’m going either way,” you insist, and he nods in understanding, expecting no less of you

you’re not ashamed to admit that you’re stubborn, maybe even sometimes to the point of being a brat

it’s just so fun to see your victim’s get riled up as you push each of their buttons over and over again

part of you hoped you would’ve learned yunho’s buttons by now, enough to get a little rise out of him, at least

but as he looks you up and down with nothing but neutrality in his eyes, you know that yet again you’ve failed

perhaps you’ve met your match, at long last; the person who can turn each and every jab around and aim them back at you

as your annoyance rises within you, making your bones buzz and your heart clench tight in your chest, you understand just how true that is

and you’re fucking stuck with him

“have fun getting murdered down some dark alley, then,” he just waves you off, only serving to piss you off more

“you’re a prick,” you spit in retaliation

your footsteps are heavy as you head to the door, eyes already trained on the little table you stash your keys on for safekeeping

the little silver stash normally takes pride of place, sitting pretty in the centre so as to not go unseen whenever you’re in a rush to leave

but the table is empty, and you know you won’t have put your keys anywhere else

but then there’s a tinkle behind you; the gentle sound of metal upon metal drawing your attention away from where the keys should be to where they actually are

the mutt’s black ears twitch atop his head as he gently fingers the bundle

you watch as the light catches, reflecting back on his stupidly handsome face in dots of shimmering light

fortunately, his prettiness only makes him that much easier to hate; of course the bastard is a prick when he looks like that

“yunho, give me my keys,” your voice is stern, tired of whatever game it is he’s playing already

“don’t want to,” he says, amusement laced through his words

the keys clink louder this time as he takes them in his fist before slipping them into his sweatpants without another word

“yunh—”

“let’s play a game, puppy,” he cuts you off, “if you fetch the keys like a good pup, i’ll let you go to the store. that sound good?”

the smile he wears is wicked, all teeth like he’s a snarling beast

he might look human, for the most part, but the sharp canines that dig into his bottom lip are a harsh reminder that he’s closer to that beast than he seems

but you’re not in the business of losing, and you certainly refuse to give up without a fair fight

if he wants to play dirty, then dirty is what he’ll get

it takes a mere few seconds for you to cross the room back to the couch, shimmying round it until you’re standing in front of him, legs lined up with his crotch

you sink to your knees, not daring to look at his face despite hearing the deep chuckle he gives you in response

“which pocket?” you spit, words sharp and impatient

“work it out, pup.”

you jump at the feeling of a warm hand petting the top of your head, fingers curling around an invisible pair of dog ears to match his own

you try your best to ignore everything about the situation; the game of fetch, the way you’re knelt at his feet, the way his hand absentmindedly plays with your hair

everything about it screams puppy, and that is not your fucking name

your fingers dip into his left pocket, feeling around for a moment or two before coming out empty handed

you don’t even allow a second to tick my before you delve your fingers into his other pocket and feel around in a similar way

but you can’t feel anything in there either, and it stumps you

yunho hums as you draw your fingers back, finally shifting your unamused gaze back to his face

“you know what i think?” he starts, and you nod, desperate for a hint of some kind, “i think you’d be so pretty with a collar wrapped around that lovely little neck of yours.”

it takes you off guard a little, not at all what you were expecting to drop from his mouth

and yet somehow, as the words sink in a little, you find yourself rather unsurprised

you shoot him the harshest glare you can muster before pushing his hand firmly away from your head

“well i don’t have a collar around my nec—”

the warm palm you pushed from your skull not a second prior, now lies on your throat

you can feel it, gentle yet firm as it holds you in place and pushes your protests away

“are you sure about that, puppy?” he growls; a sound that travels straight to your core, “from where i’m sitting, it looks like you do.”

it takes everything in you to shuffle back, just far enough away that his hand slips free of your neck and falls flat against the leather of your sofa

you stand on shaky legs, taking a few steps towards the bathroom as you do everything in your power to not look at him

if you do, you’re not quite sure what will happen

but your avoidant eyes miss the way he slips the keys free of his waistband and tosses them onto the coffee table, satisfied enough in his win to know he doesn’t have to hide them anymore

“i’m going for a shower,” you say with a shaky voice, slipping out of his sight as he gives you a hum of affirmation

it looks like the shower head will come in handy tonight

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #yandere yunho #yandere ateez

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cursingtoji · 1 year ago

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ᥫ᭡ 𝐬𝐨... 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰?

— where satoru comforts you after breaking up with toji

gojo being lowkey yandere, fem reader, toji is the ex, mentions of baby trapping, reader is older, gojo calls her senpai (almost as a mock), classroom smut, fingering, gojo has to wear a condom and he hates it, he’s also a bit pathetic and in love, reader is a bit of bitch. 4k (this was supposed to be drabble idk what happened)

“i know what you’re thinking” gojo’s voice breaks the silence in the classroom where you were supposed to be grading papers but instead has been looking through the window for god knows how long now.

the sudden appearing happens after gojo catches your lost gaze on the field some of his students were training at. he saw your profile looking down at your desk, then after a few minutes you looked through the window until your eyes set on gojo’s protégée and the son of the man that broke your heart.

“but if you keep up with that megumi will get creeped out by you” gojo simply manifested in your classroom as soon as he realized you would stay in trance not even noticing your fellow teacher staring back at you from below.

“whatever, he never liked me anyways” you brush off, then remember what he said before, “and what the hell makes you think you know what i’m thinking?”

“ah, you forgot? i have an eye or six for this sorta thing” he points to his blindfold.

“you saying you can read minds now, you freak?” your relationship with satoru always had that dynamic. toji usually got very annoyed whenever he was in the same room as the two of you, he tried to pull you away or make an excuse for you two to go back to his place. deep down you knew he felt some type of way whenever you and satoru banter like that.

“please you’re so transparent i wonder how megumi haven’t seen it yet, i'm concerned that he might need glasses…”

“just say what you wanna say, satoru.”

gojo, on the other hand, didn’t need an instinct to see how jealous and possessive toji could be when he was around. all that gojo needed to say was one word to trigger the old man.

“every time you see megumi you think about him, don’t ya?” he takes a step in your direction while you sink in your chair looking away, “senpai.”

gojo never showed respect for anyone, he was scolded several times by yaga because of it, utahime tried to hit him whenever she could, demanding formal treatment since she was his upperclassmen. but you, for whatever reason he decided, was the only one he used the honorific with.

“he’s his kid, of course i’ll—“

“ever since i heard about your breakup you’ve been acting like everything is fine, except for when you see megumi, then you frown,” gojo extends his index and taps the space between your eyebrows “and your cursed energy increases” he then sits on your desk looking down at you, “don’t tell me megumi had anything to do with why toji—“

“of course not” you stop him, although megumi was never fond of you, you know he’s a good kid and wouldn’t try to get in the way of your relationship with his father. as far as you know, he’s not particularly close to his old man either. actually, anything related to toji — bets, races, you — is automatically disregarded by him.

“then you gotta stop looking at him like he did something, or before you realize your energy towards him will become hostile and i can’t let that happen” gojo’s tone became more severe, it’s one of those rare times where he drops the playful persona in order to get serious. truthfully, megumi did nothing, but you can't unsee toji when you look at him, especially after seeing what your ex-boyfriend used to look like in the old days when he showed you some photos. it never occurred to you before, since you barely saw megumi anyways, you're not his sensei and in your free time you were with toji so there wasn't much time to get to know megumi since they don’t live together since the boy was five. you suppose gojo is right, pushing your hurt feelings away only makes them come out stronger when you see anything that reminds you of toji.

“that’s not gonna happen, i have my energy under control” you cross your arms, feeling exposed under gojo’s gaze even through the mask.

he stays quiet for a second, then his annoying tone is back.

“what did you even see in him anyways? he’s definitely not a good guy.”

“that’s rude, toji is—“

“did you think you could change him or something?”

“i— no, why—“

“from what megumi said he was cheap as fuck so it was definitely not the money” he rubs his chin.

“gojo, i swear—“

“was it the sex?”

you widen your eyes and close your mouth, not having a simple answer for that.

“jackpot” satoru whispers.

“fuck off, satoru” you raise from your seat but he raises too, blocking your way and trapping you against the black board and his body.

“you stayed with that guy for years just for the sex?” he has a mocking tone that makes your blood boil.

“no! and that’s none of your goddamn business.”

“and you’ve broken up, what? two months ago? you’ve been all this time without sex?” you raise your hand ready to slap his face or punch his nose but he sees your movements faster and catches your wrist, “don’t be like that senpai, your energy is getting hostile again” he takes all the time in the world lowering his blindfold and letting his hair fall down while staring at you with those freaking blue eyes, “although, on second thought i think that might be mmm… sexual frustration? it’s a color i never seen in you before” he grabs your wrist firmly.

“you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“oh but i do, senpai. i’m just wondering how you haven’t downloaded a dating app or tried to rub one off yet” gojo knows exactly which buttons to press to make you wanna stab him, or worst, make you wanna fuck him.

gojo gets closer to your face, so close you can smell his aftershave, and just the realization that it’s a different scent from the one you were so used to makes your heart ache and your clit throb.

“or did you?” he’s fast, gojo catches your phone on top of the table putting it right in front of your face to unlock then moving away from you to check it, “definitely no dating apps” you yell his name and try to snatch your phone back but he puts infinity on and you can’t reach him, “browser history?”

“satoru, you have no right, gimme that” your face is hot with shame.

“nothing either, well i suppose your camera roll…”

“no!”

“aha” he deactivates the invisible shield and right when you think you can retrieve your phone he turns you around, holding your arms behind your back and pressing your back against his chest, “is that what you use to get off?” he puts the phone in front of you, it’s opened in the gallery, more specifically in a part filled with lewd videos and photos.

“not bad, you could make some cash outta this” gojo puts his chin on your shoulder, playing a video which clearly was filmed by toji, his dick is getting in and out of you from behind, he gets a close look with the phone, his glistening dick shining under the flashlight while your pussy stretches to accommodate him. you press your legs together remembering the feeling, you’re not even struggling to get out of gojo’s hold by the time the video ends.

“you don’t need to get off by yourself, you know?” he smells your hair and kisses your ear, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“that was forever ago” you reply, at the time you thought satoru was going to use that against you, just waiting for an opportunity to drop that bomb on toji’s lap and proudly say he fucked his girlfriend before, but whatever image you had of him back then was proved wrong since no one knows about your little escape with gojo till this very day.

“and wasn’t it good? huh?” he presses, sucking the spot on your neck that has you throwing your head back.

“yeah, it was” you confess, too sensible from the light touches to rethink your answers.

“see? i can make you feel good so you don’t become a little monster” he trails his hand on your thigh, pushing your skirt up until he finds your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you then pressing a finger on your clit.

“so charitable of you” you mumble sarcastically.

“i would gladly do this favor to you” he replies in the same tone, “even though you still own me.”

“for what?!” you close your legs around his hand turning your head around to look him in the face, not even considering a world where satoru did you any favors.

“for raising your boyfriend’s son? you really think you would’ve had a sex life with an eight year old summoning pets around the house?” he raises an eyebrow.

“don’t pretend like you did that out of the goodness in your heart, if megumi didn’t have the ten shadows you wouldn’t have bat an eye if toji sold him to the zenin’s or whomever.”

“you sound just like him” gojo’s eyes get darker, now he has your clit slowly rolling between his thumb and index over your underwear.

“besides— hng i came in the picture years after you took megumi… so don’t blame me” you wiggle your ass on his crotch.

“a ‘thank you my favourite kohai’ wouldn’t hurt” you sincerely laugh at that, never thinking of satoru as your underclassmen since that fucking minx is everyone’s exception on their cursed technique due to how powerful he is, so him being below you somehow was never a posibility, at least not strength wide.

satoru pushes your underwear to the side, rubbing the wetness all over your pussy and teasing your entrance.

“five years” you murmur as he inserts a finger then pulls it back to join his middle one too and go back in.

“hm?” satoru gets quieter, after talking so much and having so many things to say you’re surprised he stayed silent for a whole minute.

“last time you fucked me, it was five years ago” you get comfortable on his hold, his leg is between yours, serving as support for you to lean on while he scissors you.

“that long huh…” he sounds… sad? no, maybe nostalgic.

“crazy, right? so much has—“ you sigh when he curls his fingers, “changed.”

satoru take a long sniff of your hair, keeping a pleasing rhythm with his hand, it feels like giving someone a massage. he could go crazy and have you stripped out of your uniform a while ago, fucked you on your desk and left after marking your body and giving your ass a mean slap.

he could still do that, but whatever feeling bloomed in his chest has him enjoying this moment with you in his hold, stroking your insides and smelling your shampoo while discreetly rocking his hips on your behind for some relief.

he almost feels sleepy, the relaxed state has his mind going other places. he thinks of a world where he can tease you under your uniform every other day, you would tell him the school is no such a place for that then the day ends and you go home with him, holding hands, and finally when you arrive home he gets to finish what he started. then, he cooks whatever quick meal he can find the ingredients for since he knows you don't like to cook, afterwards you fall asleep on his lap on the couch as he strokes your hair, your belly is full, your heart is warm, you feel loved and he feels—

“toru~” he comes out of the trance he fell at when you call for him, he thinks for a second you were calling his name cause you felt he was off, but in reality you were calling him cause you are getting close, “right there” your breathy moans makes gojo smile and kiss your temple.

“where? here?” he pretends to not know, when the truth is he never actually forgot after your first time together, “right here, senpai?”

“y-yeah” you throw your head back, shutting your eyes to give in to the orgasm. gojo looks down at your pretty face, he feels the urge to kiss you right now, but he wants you to ask for it first. your walls clench around his fingers, he strokes that spot sweetly, like he's caressing a pet.

which is an ironic comparison since he’s the one that would gladly accept being your pet.

when you open your eyes gojo is staring at you silently through half lid eyes, it is truly a shame that he keeps those hidden for so long.

“desk, now” you demand needly.

“yes ma'am” gojo picks you up easily, moving the papers on top of the table to the floor.

you immediately go for his belt, choosing not to comment on the wet spot on his pants.

you feel a pressure on your chin as he guides your head up to look at him.

“ask me” he pleads.

“for what?”

“for a kiss” you smile, looking at his lips and how inviting they look. you ponder if you should tease him for it, since he's been teasing you with words a lot today, but then you chose to comply, despite going through your phone without our permission and claiming your frustration comes from lack of dick, he's actually being good to you.

“gimme a kiss” you raise your chin higher, he gazes at your lips and eyes, looking for something other than lust, yet he gives in, sealing your lips with his trying to keep his mind away from thinking of the man that had your lips previous to him. and how dumb that motherfucker is to let you go.

gojo's lips are soft, he starts gently which feels foreign to you, but it doesn't take long before his hand presses your lower back, pulling you closer until his cock hits your clothed cunt. the warmth he feels is enough to relish the passion in him, he kisses you harder, tongue intruding your mouth like he's trying to devour you.

the wet kiss also awakens your urge for him, you pull his cock from his underwear in the tiny space between his and your crotch, the second it's out it's already against your folds, the leaking tip hot against your skin.

“nuh-uh you better have a rubber” you push your knee onto gojo’s pelvis when he starts to rub himself on you to spread your wetness on his shaft.

“did you make toji wear one too?” he raises a questionable eyebrow at you, willing to bet all his heritage on the answer.

“he had to earn that privilege” you reach for gojo’s wallet, not failing to notice the black cards and considerable amount of cash, “i don’t know what you do after 6 so…” you take the packs, ripping it open yourself and rolling on him. with a face and body like his you doubt gojo spends most nights by himself.

“unbelievable…”

“satoru” you warn stroking him slowly, “can i get another kiss?” you bat your lashes. gojo comes closer, his nose even touches yours, then you feel his hands on your waist, turning you around till your elbows and chest are against the table and your skirt is being flipped over, underwear pushed down.

“you have to earn it, senpai” he spits the words against your ear as he pushes his dick into you. until a few moments ago, satoru was composed, happy to accept whatever crumbles you chose to give him. you managed to trigger him by saying toji still had something he couldn't have.

he's still gonna go through this — that's how whipped he is for you — though now he’ll be less gentle.

his cockhead hits your spot, nothing accidental of course, satoru knows your spots like the back of his hand. you whine and arch your back, satoru pouts realizing he won't get to suck some hickeys on the skin of your back and shoulder, not now at least, but the night is young.

“c'mon satoru, don't be like that” you look over your shoulder, licking your lips at the sight of him sweaty, flushed and frowny.

the sound of his name in your voice makes him want to cum on the spot, he dips his head on your neck sighing, not stopping thrusting your behind. he wanted to feel you so badly, why the fuck did you make him wear a condom? he's clean, of course he is, he's gojo satoru for heaven's sake! even viruses are afraid of him.

or was it something else you feared?

“hey… you on the pill?” he lifts his head slightly, his voice still muffled by the material of your dress.

“you’re not fucking me raw, satoru.”

“just wondering… you said you didnt wear a condom with him, so what kept you from getting knocked up?” he wiggles his hand between you and the surface of your table till hes palming your belly.

“you keep bringing toji up a lot, obsessed much?” you tease him, avoiding the answer, gojo pinches your clit.

“please, he wishes. now tell me. iud? implant? injections?” you push him away turning around then pulling him back.

“okay, you clearly had sex ed classes, now shut up and fuck me right” gojo takes your leg and places on his shoulder, you bite your fist to contain your moan, the new position makes easier for him to nudge your clit with his pelvis.

“i could be fucking you better, you know how?” he bites the skin of your leg, not harshly but enough to make you yelp, he smiles, giving a particular hard thrust that makes your eyes roll.

“condom stay on, satoru, i can’t risk getting preg—“ you slap your mouth. satoru stops.

“you’re not… on anything?”

“listen you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” you cover your face, “i had a pregnancy scare a few years ago so… gosh why am i even telling you this…”

“go on” gojo massages your thigh.

“toji got a vasectomy. birth control wasn’t working for me anymore and it was only a matter of time before— well it doesn't matter. you can see why you have to use it right?” you place your elbows on the table, sitting up enough to see the look on his face, it’s not what your expected to see.

satoru looks like a child that just found out where his parents keep all the sweets. he’s grinning, dick throbbing.

“yeah, i see now” he bends, holding your neck and kissing you, he makes the kiss feel like a ‘thank you for trusting me’ but if this was a cartoon his shadow would have horns and a pointy tail.

all he can think now is exactly how to make you his, he can sweet talk you into allowing him to hit it raw, promising to pull it out, then… whoopsie.

the new discovery gives him a different kind of stamina.

“don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he kisses your cheek after leaving you breathless.

he plunges in and out, a rhythm that has you seeing stars. gojo craves you so much, he’s quite bothered by all the clothes and the need to keep it down, otherwise he would have torn your dress apart and have you screaming by now.

“fuck— keep doing that” you run your nails on his undercut, gojo mewls and take your other leg, pushing it further to go deeper. he sees the white ring around his cock, getting high on the sigh of it combined with your pussy illuminated by the natural light coming from the window behind him.

he wonders if toji ever fucked you in a classroom like this, then he shakes his head, not allowing the image to form in his mind, instead he focus on you, and how your pretty face contorts as your orgasm approaches once again.

“so fucking pretty” he whispers quietly.

you attempt to lower your legs. feeling it’s gonna be too much.

“nuh-uh keep them here” he pushes back, “so tight” he closes his eyes.

you’re a moaning mess at this point, almost forgetting where you are.

“that’s right, let it go baby” your legs shake as your orgasm hits you, satoru can see the shape of your cursed energy peaking then getting softer.

he fucks you a little more, trying not to think about the condom trapping his dream of knocking you up.

god, you would look so fucking gorgeous carrying his baby, all round up for him to showcase around. he would do anything for you, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

if only…

“fuck“ he fucks his load — into the condom unfortunately.

after the initial high goes away he starts to hear his students asking where he went and why he’s taking so long, “wait here, i’ll take you home.”

“you don’t have to” you smile, poking his cheek.

“oh i do, i’m not done with you” he takes your hand from his nape and gives it a kiss before pulling out and throwing that despicable rubber into the bin, making a mental note to empty that bin outside where the evidence of what happened between two teachers is not so easily discoverable.

you sit up adjusting your dress and looking around, “did you see my…”

“nope” gojo leaves the classroom pushing the material of your panties further into his pocket.

gojo had the weekend of his dreams, he convinced you to stay in his place that night and the next one too, he rubbed your sore legs after you came so much you were spasming then made you breakfast, it almost made him believe of a happy ending for the two of you.

a dream that was shattered when, a few days later you returned from a mission and stood by the entrance of the school kissing… toji.

gojo watches the scene from above, a frown on his face.

“yeah i was surprised too” he almost forgot that megumi was with him, “thought she finally created some sense” he confesses.

gojo doesn’t say anything, he watches silently as you tiptoe to kiss toji, the fucker doesn’t even hold you right, he keeps his hand in his pockets and lets you with all the effort.

“meet you in the classroom in five” gojo disappears from megumi’s sight.

on your way to report your mission to yaga you see satoru leaning against a tree. you say his name in a surprised manner, not having prepared what to tell him beforehand.

“listen, i— hm… i thought you should know that toji and i are back, so—”

“did you tell him?” his arms are crossed.

“about… us? of course not.”

“why? don’t you think he should know?” you hear the challenge in his tone.

“no, and you’re not gonna say a word to him either” you step closer to him, trying to look intimidating which can be difficult due to the height difference, “may i remind you that between the three of us there’s a teen boy who would not appreciate the drama.”

“look at you, using fushiguro as an scapegoat” he smiles at the look of anger forming on your features, “it’s fine, i’m just a bit surprised at how quick you were to go back to him, that’s all.”

“let’s be real, satoru. it’s not like you were going to take me on a date or anything” gojo pulls you by your wrist, your body hits his, the sudden proximity has your eyes widening, anyone could see you and take the wrong conclusion. i mean, it wouldn’t be wrong but you didn’t want any conclusions to be taken for that matter.

“this is not going to be the last time and i don’t give a damn if you’re dating him or married or widowed.”

“satoru!” you shout his name in a whisper, immediately rejecting the idea of becoming a widow.

“you can tell toji or not, i don’t mind fighting him” he pushes himself out of the tree and past you. megumi is grown now, of course he still needs a lot of coaching regarding his skills, but emotionally speaking, he’s been a grown up since he was six.

before going to his classroom as promised, he teleports himself to yours, picking up the bouquet he left at your desk then teleporting to the fountain across the campus where he rips the paper that holds the flowers together and lets it all fall into the water.

satoru watches it for a moment, hurt but still decided to go through with his plan.

he wonders what would you tell toji if you got pregnant, maybe you could convince him the child is his, a miracle. then when the kid comes out with white hair and blue eyes you’ll have no choice other than be with him, the father of your child, the man who truly loves you. gojo satoru.

#there’s no part 2 leave me alone #divider by @cafekitsune #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji x reader

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hollowed-theory-hall · 1 month ago

Note

your post on harry’s handwriting was an eye-opener for me! ik his writing resembled his mother some and is decent overall, but i’ve never seen pics of it!

idk where the horde of fanfic writers came up with the weird notion that harry has bad/chicken scratch handwriting, which triggers me every. time. they make out his handwriting to be messy, his eating habits sloppy, his speech behaviour bumbling, his appearance unkempt, and that he’s rather messy as a person. which boggles the mind, because he’s used to cleaning up after the dursleys and probably enjoys an orderly space, if not super spic and span??? is it only certain fandoms, cuz they make the other character(s) all elegance personified and well-mannered? like, harry already is a well-mannered boy, otherwise petunia would’ve been tutting, clucking, and dying of shame even more before the nieghbours lmaoo. idk whether to cry or laugh, and sometimes it’s such a turn-off that i choose to rage quit fics.

please, if you have the time, i would love a thorough breakdown/meta on how harry actually comes across as a person!

Okay, I have so much to say about this. And omg, Harry's chicken scratch handwriting is one of my pet peeves in fics (here's the handwriting post, btw). Harry's characterization when done wrong in general, tbh is a huge turn-off for me. Becouse I love Harry, he's my boy.

So, what we're gonna look at is how other characters in the books perceive Harry, how he comes across in universe to people who can't read his mind (like we can, as the readers).

I'll start with a general note about how most characters in the books don't really know Harry. This is mostly because Harry, contrary to fanon interpretations, is a very private person and rarely talks about himself/his feelings/his thoughts out loud. This is a habit I believe was ingrained into him by the Dursleys.

Like, I mentioned in the past Harry doesn't talk as much as other characters. Scenes of the trio usually consist of mostly Ron and Hermione talking, for example. This is not becouse he doesn't have thoughts (he's quite judgmental inside his head, and we know he has a lot to say), but becouse he's used to not voicing a lot of them thanks to the Dursleys.

This essay turned out pretty long, but here we go:

How do others see Harry?

Harry comes off as confident. Harry is a defiant and courageous person, and this often comes off as confidence to other people. It's why Snape thinks Harry is arrogant and why most students are always sure Harry meant to do what he did. They think he has shit together because he comes off like he does:

Harry stayed silent. Snape was trying to provoke him into telling the truth. He wasn’t going to do it. Snape had no proof — yet. “How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter,” Snape said suddenly, his eyes glinting. “He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers . . . The resemblance between you is uncanny.” “My dad didn’t strut,” said Harry, before he could stop himself. “And neither do I.”

(PoA, Ch14)

Snape sees Harry as arrogant, when in fact Harry is just defiant and intelligent.

“But you’ve been too busy saving the Wizarding world,” said Ginny, half laughing. “Well ... I can’t say I’m surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn’t be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

(HBP, Ch30)

Ginny (and other characters) believe he likes to save the wizarding world. That he is this confident hero and savior. I mean, they believe her lie about the tattoo, which says a lot:

and all Romilda Vane does is ask me if it’s true you’ve got a hippogriff tattooed across your chest.” Ron and Hermione both roared with laughter. Harry ignored them. “What did you tell her?” “I told her it’s a Hungarian Horntail,” said Ginny, turning a page of the newspaper idly. “Much more macho.”

(HBP, Ch25)

Harry doesn't see himself as leader material, but it's clear everyone else does:

“I think we ought to elect a leader,” said Hermione. “Harry’s leader,” said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she were mad, and Harry’s stomach did yet another back flip. “Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly,” said Hermione, unperturbed. “It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So — everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?” Everybody put up their hands, even Zacharias Smith, though he did it very halfheartedly. “Er — right, thanks,” said Harry, who could feel his face burning.

(OotP, Ch18)

Neville Longbottom, who gave a roar of delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled. “I knew you’d come! I knew it, Harry!”

(DH, Ch28)

“Look who it is! Didn’t I tell you?” As Harry emerged into the room beyond the passage, there were several screams and yells: “HARRY!” “It’s Potter, it’s POTTER!” “Ron!” “Hermione!” [...] “Are you all right, Harry?” Neville was saying. “Want to sit down? I expect you’re tired, aren’t—?” “No,” said Harry. He looked at Ron and Hermione, trying to tell them without words that Voldemort has just discovered the loss of one of the other Horcruxes. Time was running out fast: If Voldemort chose to visit Hogwarts next, they would miss their chance. “We need to get going,” he said, and their expression told him that they understood. “What are we going to do, then, Harry?” asked Seamus. “What’s the plan?” “Plan?” repeated Harry. He was exercising all his willpower to prevent himself succumbing again to Voldemort’s rage: His scar was still burning. “Well, there’s something we—Ron, Hermione, and I—need to do, and then we’ll get out of here.” Nobody was laughing or whooping anymore. Neville looked confused.

(DH, Ch29)

Everyone expected Harry in DH to have a plan of attack the moment he arrived because that's how he acts. Even in the above scene, he's in terrible pain from his scar, but the others don't see it. What they see is a Harry who looks exhausted but says no to rest because there's work to be done and they expect this of him. They see someone fearless and capable with a plan who could lead them, but this isn't what we see because we're inside his head.

How Harry doesn't speak much and acts overall quite distant, as in, he actively avoids the girls who fancy him:

Then he blinked and looked around: He was surrounded by mesmerized girls. “Hi, Harry!” said a familiar voice from behind him. “Neville!” said Harry in relief, turning to see a round-faced boy struggling toward him

(HBP, Ch7)

And he only has two close friends and barley knows the other students in his year. Most students only know Harry Potter from the stories, rumors, and Dumbledore's end-of-the-year speeches about his heroism. They have no clue who the real Harry is — so they expect the hero they do hear about.

He stands his ground a lot (again, defiance):

Harry turned to McLaggen to tell him that, most unfortunately, Ron had beaten him, only to find McLaggen’s red face inches from his own. He stepped back hastily. “His sister didn’t really try,�� said McLaggen menacingly. There was a vein pulsing in his temple like the one Harry had often admired in Uncle Vernon’s. “She gave him an easy save.” “Rubbish,” said Harry coldly. “That was the one he nearly missed.”

(HBP, Ch11)

And more often than not, he does so coldly and calmly. A lot of his more fiery anger is a sign of trauma with Harry, his baseline anger reaction is cold.

All of this adds to him appearing to others as controlled, confident, and like he has everything together and could never have any issues. He comes off as this bigger than life person to most people. Snape isn't the only one who reads Harry's behavior as confident. But it's actually far from the truth.

We, as the readers, see how depressed Harry is. How lowly he thinks of himself and how much he doesn't think of himself as anything special when he very clearly is. But the fact he doesn't say any of it and has mastered the skill of acting cold and like everything is fine when he literally wants to die at the age of 5, no one knows. Even Ron and Hermione didn't truly realize the full extent of Harry's low self-worth until 5th year.

The other students are shocked to see Harry as angry as he is in book 5 because he's often way more controlled and well-mannered than that. They're used to seeing him cold and quiet, not firey. Most of his fire stays inside his head unless he's really angry or emotional in general (or traumatized):

Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk again. Harry, however, stood up. Everyone was staring at him; Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated. “Harry, no!” Hermione whispered in a warning voice, tugging at his sleeve, but Harry jerked his arm out of her reach. “So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?” Harry asked, his voice shaking. There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night that Cedric had died. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge

(OotP, Ch12)

The shock of the other students, I believe, is because of what he's saying, yes, but it's also because Harry is behaving very unlike him here. He usually doesn't shout at teachers or anyone, really. He rarely speaks in classes actually.

And regarding his confidence, everyone, Ron and Hermione included, was sure Harry is super skilled and that that's how he evaded Voldemort:

“You don’t know what it’s like! You — neither of you — you’ve never had to face him, have you? You think it’s just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you’re in class or something? The whole time you know there’s nothing between you and dying except your own — your own brain or guts or whatever — like you can think straight when you know you’re about a second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die — they’ve never taught us that in their classes, what it’s like to deal with things like that — and you two sit there acting like I’m a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up — you just don’t get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn’t needed me —” “We weren’t saying anything like that, mate,” said Ron, looking aghast. “We weren’t having a go at Diggory, we didn’t — you’ve got the wrong end of the —” He looked helplessly at Hermione, whose face was stricken.

(OotP, Ch15)

They didn't for a second think he wasn't confident in his own abilities because Harry acts in a way that comes off as confident and capable. It's why everyone so easily accepts him as a leader under various circumstances. He acts level-headed while he's terrified, so everyone thinks he knows what he's doing except Harry (and the reader). Ron and Hermione had zero doubts Harry's skill was a big part of why he survived book 4, it's only Harry who doesn't think that.

The fact Snape bothered to extract his own memories during his Occlumancy lessons goes to show how he thinks Harry is talented, contrary to his words. He feared Harry would reverse the connection and see into his mind, otherwise he wouldn't have taken these precautions.

Think of Voldemort’s resurrection even. Inside his mind, we know Harry's terrified. We know he has no idea what he's doing.

But imagine being a Death Eater in the crowd and you see this 14-year-old kid stand up after being Crucio-ed by their lord, and he stands up, resists the imperius, and shouts at your lord like he thinks of himself as equal to him — or, perhaps, better than him:

“I asked you whether you want me to do that again,” said Voldemort softly. “Answer me! Imperio!” [...] I WON’T!” And these words burst from Harry’s mouth; they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him — back rushed the aches that the Cruciatus Curse had left all over his body — back rushed the realization of where he was, and what he was facing. . . . “You won’t?” said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing now.

(GoF, Ch34)

That's pretty badass. Harry comes off like a confidant badass. And he gets more badass and confident as he matures (even if he isn't actually as confident as he appears).

Even in the DoM, Lucius Malfoy, who was in the graveyard, takes Harry seriously:

“Don’t do anything,” he [Harry] muttered. “Not yet —” The woman who had mimicked him let out a raucous scream of laughter. “You hear him? You hear him? Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!” “Oh, you don’t know Potter as I do, Bellatrix,” said Malfoy softly. “He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. Now give me the prophecy, Potter.”

(OotP, Ch35)

Bellatrix makes fun of how Harry gives the other kids orders as if they're going to fight, but Lucius knows better, he knows Harry is going to fight, and I think, he's scared of what would happen when he does. Even Bellatrix quickly starts taking Harry more seriously:

“Oh, he knows how to play, little bitty baby Potter,” she said, her mad eyes staring through the slits in her hood. “Very well, then —”

(OotP, Ch35)

And she changes her tone completely after he casts a Crucio at her:

“Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?” she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now.

(OotP, Ch36)

His aura is one of competence and confidence even when he's frightened and has no idea what he's doing. Especially when he's frightened and has no idea what he's doing.

And for the most part, he doesn't come off nearly as judgmental as he actually is, because he doesn't say a lot of what he thinks. We only see him start to actually speak his mind and be more sassy out loud around 5th and 6th year. And even then, his highly judgmental physical descriptions stay part of his narration, they aren't spoken:

“That’s the bell,” said Harry listlessly, because Ron and Hermione were bickering too loudly to hear it. They did not stop arguing all the way down to Snape’s dungeon, which gave Harry plenty of time to reflect that between Neville and Ron he would be lucky ever to have two minutes’ conversation with Cho that he could look back on without wanting to leave the country.

(OotP, Ch12)

Ron and Hermione banter while Harry feels done with them, but he doesn't really say anything or complain. He keeps a lot of his thoughts inside his head.

If we look at how Ron, Hermione, and Sirius see Harry, they're the closest to who Harry actually is as these three know Harry best. (They're also more objective than Harry who looks down on himself)

After the book 5 conversation I mentioned above, Ron and Hermione are more aware of Harry's insecurities, but they find them silly. They see Harry as incredibly capable and skilled:

“Did he?” said Harry. Behind him he felt rather than heard Hermione passing his message to the others and he sought to keep talking, to distract the Death Eaters.

(OotP, Ch35)

“What are we going to do with them?” Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, “Kill them? They’d kill us. They had a good go just now.” Hermione shuddered and took a step backward. Harry shook his head. “We just need to wipe their memories,” said Harry.

(DH, Ch9)

When danger comes, everyone's instantly following Harry's lead. Harry's the planner when the situation is dangerous, he calls the shots, not Hermione. Hermione and Ron look to Harry for a plan when things get tough, and Harry always figures something out. Now, we see Harry thinking he has no idea what to do:

He could not think what to do but to keep talking. Neville’s arm was pressed against his, and he could feel him shaking. He could feel one of the other’s quickened breath on the back of his head. He was hoping they were all thinking hard about ways to get out of this, because his mind was blank.

(OotP, Ch35)

But Ron and Hermione don't. No one does. They just see Harry coming up with a plan to save them. Every time. They don't see him wracking his brain for a way to keep everyone alive.

Hermione never considers Harry stupid, not even in first year:

“I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things — friendship and bravery and — oh Harry — be careful!”

(PS, Ch16)

And Ron clearly doesn't expect stupid behavior from Harry. He's surprised and shocked when Harry does something he considers stupid:

“What the hell,” panted Ron, holding up the Horcrux, which swung backward and forward on its shortened chain in some parody of hypnosis, “didn’t you take this thing off before you dived?”

(DH, 19)

Both Ron and Hermione trust Harry's opinion and they trust him to know what to do when shit hits the fan. When things are dangerous, both Ron and Hermione (and everyone else) turn to Harry to know what to do becouse that's the aura he has:

“I’d tell him we’re all with him in spirit,” said Lupin, then hesitated slightly. “And I’d tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right.” Harry looked at Hermione, whose eyes were full of tears. “Nearly always right,” she repeated.

(DH, Ch22)

Hermione agrees with Lupin's assessment here. Dumbledore did too, he's the one who told Kingsley and Remus to trust Harry's instincts. Harry doesn't give the impression he's messy and bumbling, quite the opposite. Yes, Harry and Hermione have their doubts, they don't agree with Harry on everything, especially when he has no evidence for his claim except his intuition. But, it's telling Harry can make claims based on gut feeling and Ron and Hermione ask him why he thinks that instead of just instantly rejecting the claims.

Like I mentioned above, he looks like he has his shit together even when he really doesn't. He's an expert in keeping a mask on and bottling up his feelings.

Sirius, also sees Harry as mature and capable for his age. It's why he's so insistent on telling him things while Molly wants to cuddle Harry:

“I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly,” said Sirius. “But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back” (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name), “he has more right than most to —” “He’s not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!” said Mrs. Weasley. “He’s only fifteen and —” “— and he’s dealt with as much as most in the Order,” said Sirius, “and more than some —” “No one’s denying what he’s done!” said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. “But he’s still—” “He’s not a child!” said Sirius impatiently.

(OotP, Ch5)

Between them, Sirius sees Harry more accurately. Harry is incredibly mature and capable and wants to be in the know. He'd be better off in the know. Sirius understands Harry's curiosity which Molly seems unaware of. Lupin also remarks on how Harry is going to find out things anyway, he's aware of how curious and determined Harry is. Sirius considers Harry capable even during PoA and GoF:

I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself and while you’re around Dumbledore and Moody I don’t think anyone will be able to hurt you.

(GoF, Ch18)

Molly, on the other hand, never really sees Harry's capabilities. Molly only ever sees a polite, intelligent kid. In the early years at the Weasley, Harry barely talks to Molly and Arthur because he doesn't really know how to talk to them. So they talk to him, the other Weasleys talk around him, and he's polite in turn:

“I don’t blame you, dear,” she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. “Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we’d come and get you ourselves if you hadn’t written back to Ron by Friday. But really” (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate), “flying an illegal car halfway across the country — anyone could have seen you —”

(CoS, Ch3)

Harry acts around most adults like this, especially when younger. It's clear he acted this way around his teachers too:

“You see what you expect to see, Severus,” said Dumbledore, without raising his eyes from a copy of Transfiguration Today. “Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child.”

(DH, Ch33)

Snape got it a bit different. Because Harry is defiant and sassy — it's how he responds to the Dursleys, and this is how he responds to threats he can't do anything about in general. Sass. It's why we see Harry do this with Umbridge, Snape, and Scrimgeour:

Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?” inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice. “Hmm, let’s think . . .” said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice, “maybe Lord Voldemort?”

(OotP, Ch12)

“Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?” “Yes,” said Harry stiffly. “Yes, sir.” “There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor.”

(HBP, Ch9)

“...You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen-year-old boy to tell me how to do my job! It’s time you learned some respect!” “It’s time you earned it.” said Harry.

(DH, Ch7)

Harry appears confidant and arrogant not only to Snape but to Scrimgeour too (I think other students at Hogwarts see Harry as arrogant too. His demeanor can come off as arrogant if you don't know what he's thinking. It's why they could believe the Daily Prophet, it fit what they got to see). It's because he is rude and sassy when speaking his mind. It's because he acts more confident when he's terrified. It's because he's cold, distant, and uncaring towards most people and actively avoids talking to most.

And even that's mostly when he's older. In 4th year, he responds to Snape by glaring at him silently and wishing he could cast a Crucio at him:

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GoF, Ch18)

Harry is overall really quiet, which does create the impression of him being put together. More than he thinks of himself, for sure. It also adds to why many students feel as comfortable talking about him as they do because he feels distant to them. His quiet makes him feel mysterious, unknown, and far away. Like a symbol rather than a person.

Something I want to note, specifically with Umbridge, is this scene:

Harry looked around at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. “Yes?” “Nothing,” said Harry quietly. He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time; once again the words had been cut into his skin, once again they healed over seconds later.

(OotP, Ch13)

Part of why Harry comes off as such a put-together badass is that he doesn't let others see his pain. He doesn't show he's in pain to others, especially when it's people he doesn't like. He acts though, constantly.

He hates crying in front of others becouse Harry does everything he can to not appear weak:

Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn’t see.

(PoA, Ch12)

And it works, people see him as confident, and capable, and heroic. Most people don't see the struggle because Harry keeps bottling it in.

Even with Hermione, he tries not to let her see how upset he actually is. We know in his head, that he is devastated by his wand breaking, that he's mourning it like it was a dead loved one, but this is what he's willing to show Hermione:

“It was an accident,” said Harry mechanically. He felt empty, stunned. “We’ll—we’ll find a way to repair it.” [...] “Well,” he said, in a falsely matter-of-fact voice, “well, I’ll just borrow yours for now, then. While I keep watch.”

(DH, Ch17)

All this means, we, as the readers , see Harry's pain, his struggles, his vulnerability — but the other characters almost never do.

The only character who is consistently aware of Harry's struggles is Sirius who Harry confides his weaknesses to more than any other character:

“Never mind me, how are you?” said Sirius seriously. “I’m —” For a second, Harry tried to say “fine” — but he couldn’t do it. Before he could stop himself, he was talking more than he’d talked in days

(GoF, Ch19)

Harry is so used to saying his fine and bearing his burdens in silence. It's what he does. It's what he did for years. Most characters think Harry is unshakable because that's how he acts.

Even when Harry tries to lie so Sirius won't worry, Sirius sees through it:

Nice try, Harry. I’m back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that’s going on at Hogwarts.

(GoF, Ch15)

As for his room and appearance, he is a little messy actually when he has the chance to be in seventh year:

Harry had spent the morning completely emptying his school trunk for the first time since he had packed it six years ago. At the start of the intervening school years, he had merely skimmed off the topmost three quarters of the contents and replaced or updated them, leaving a layer of general debris at the bottom—old quills, desiccated beetle eyes, single socks that no longer fit.

(DH, Ch2)

As in, his trunk is a bit of a mess. But this makes sense, I think. He allows himself to be messy when he doesn't have the Dursleys over his head. It's like a sort of freedom he didn't have before, so he indulges in it. I think the mess in his trunk is also a result of him actually living from it for 6 years, as he couldn't really leave everything at home with the Dursleys, could he? Still, his room and belongings are nowhere near as messy as Ron's.

As for his appearance, the only thing mentioned to be messy is his hair:

His jet-black hair, however, was just as it always had been — stubbornly untidy, whatever he did to it

(PoA, Ch1)

But from other characters (including Hermione) thinking Harry's hot:

“Oh, come on, Harry,” said Hermione, suddenly impatient. “It’s not Quidditch that’s popular, it’s you! You’ve never been more interesting, and frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable.”

(HBP, Ch11)

We can conclude Harry's messy hair comes off as cool and attractive and not like a bird's nest.

We also see from Hermione and others that Harry looks scary. He is 5'11 by book 6 with an intimidating glare and that he looks like he can throw a punch, (and can definitely throw a punch when he wants to). So he has a physical intimidation factor when older:

“Well, it’s like Hagrid said, they can look after themselves,” said Hermione impatiently, “and I suppose a teacher like Grubbly-Plank wouldn’t usually show them to us before N.E.W.T. level, but, well, they are very interesting, aren’t they? The way some people can see them and some can’t! I wish I could.” “Do you?” Harry asked her quietly. She looked horrorstruck. “Oh Harry — I’m sorry — no, of course I don’t — that was a really stupid thing to say —”

(OotP, Ch21)

Harry was not aware of releasing George, all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting at Malfoy. He had completely forgotten the fact that all the teachers were watching: All he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as possible. With no time to draw out his wand, he merely drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy’s stomach — “Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!” He could hear girls’ voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing, and the bellowing of the crowd around him, but he did not care, not until somebody in the vicinity yelled “IMPEDIMENTA!” and only when he was knocked over backward by the force of the spell did he abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach. . . .

(OotP, Ch19)

To summarise

Harry bottles up a lot of his emotions and tends to be quiet, this creates the often wrong impression he is confident and has his shit together.

He doesn't show pain and weakness to others and doesn't cry or show he's upset to basically anyone (except Sirius). This means basically no one sees his struggles or how depressed and traumatized Harry actually is. It even surprises Ron and Hermione in book 5.

He is defiant and rude to people he doesn't like, especially when scared, the result is that he appears like a very capable and confident badass especially when under pressure.

He can be intimidating with his glare alone and once he's older he is a physical presence. He's not someone who can disappear in a crowd post-book 5.

His rudeness oftentimes stays in his head except when someone really annoys him. This makes him appear defiant, but overall polite because he keeps most of his mean comments to himself.

When younger, he is very polite and quiet, especially toward adults. When he's older, he gets a little sassier (as in, he says some of his internal monologue out loud). But he is a polite, well-mannered kid for the most part.

The character who has a messy room, is a bit of a slob, has chicken scratch handwriting, and is lazy with schoolwork, is Ronald Weasley, who I love dearly, but these descriptions have nothing to do with Harry and everything to do with Ron.

The only unkempt thing about Harry's appearance is likely his Potter hair, which is more messy hot than messy bad (if all the girls' reactions are anything to go by).

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #asks #anonymous #harry james potter #my best boy hjp

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 11 months ago

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hiii i love ur fics idk if ur requests are on rn but can u do a short drabble of the tiktok trend where the guy hasn't ask his gf to be his valentines day so she "put him on sale" as a joke ofc but she's like

BF FOR SALE ($3.50)

- amazing cook

-crusty feet

- will buy anything u want

any character is fine but i would love katsuki or shoto!!

LMFAOOOO this is for sure the funniest ask ive gotten yet😭😭😭 this is so cute !! and very long overdue I apologize writer block devil was rlly kickin my ass😞 valentines been over but yk i had to write this ! i was rlly hesitating between writing for shoto or katsuki and then i realized i could write for BOTH OF THEM!! and so i did ! i tried honoring your request as best i could, hope you like it <3 !

no pronouns mentioned, pure tooth rotting nasty fluff, use of petnames (my love for shoto and sweets, babe and idiot (lol) for katsuki), katsuki is an asshat but when isn’t he, shy katsuki, shoto is a bit of an airhead, kissing, biting, reader is petty asl lol, lemme know if i missed something else !

todoroki shoto ♥︎

“yn, my love.”

“yes, shoto ?”

the corners of shoto’s mouth pull into a tiny frown at the usage of his first name. no baby, no hun, not even sho. just shoto.

“did i do something to upset you ?” he asks carefully from his spot at the foot of your dorm bed he seems to be stuck at, he can’t bring himself to move until he knows if you’re actually mad at him, and he has an inkling you are.

you look up at him for no longer than a second then look back down at your phone screen “what makes you think that ?” you question back nonchalantly.

“you posted something on your tiktok account..” shoto doesn’t have a clue how to have this conversation with you and it makes him a little nervous, he regrets not going to izuku for advice after all.

“mhmmmm~” you hum, urging him to continue knowing damn well you know what he’s going to say. you wanted to hear him say it himself.

you know shoto’s had no previous relationships before you so these type of things probably don’t mean as much to him as they do to you, but doesn’t everyone want their boyfriends to ask them to be their valentine ? you sure do, and your boyfriend hadn’t asked you to be his yet, so as petty as you know you were being at the time you posted the tiktok he’s no doubt here for right now.

shoto feels like a criminal on trial desperately trying to plead his case with you being the judge. tentatively, he asks “ you said you were..putting me up for sale ?”

immediately it’s like a switch had been flipped. you place your phone down onto your bed next to you, shoto wishes he could take your phone’s place. you cross your leg over the other and bring your hands together like a super villain revealing their master plan “yes. yes i did.”

“oh.”

silence. nothing.

shoto tried—he’s trying. he’s trying so insanely hard to make sense of everything that is you but he simply can’t. he breaks eye contact to think of more to ask but his attention is quickly pulled back to you when he hears you whine.

“uuuuughhh shotoooo~” you moan, throwing your head back against the headboard. “you’re not supposed to say ‘oh’ !” you’re face changes from grumpy to deadpan as you lower your voice slightly to try and mimic him. on any other day this would’ve made him laugh but he’s beyond lost at this point. he clears his throat before speaking again.

“ i don’t know what i’m supposed to say—or what i did for you to want to sell me.” he thinks “and for 3 dollars at that.”

you let out a laugh when you process his words and shoto’s shoulders magically feel lighter at the sound. carefully, he slides a little closer to the side of your bed so he can stand at your bedside. little by little. you pretend you don't notice.

"it's what you deserve for not askin' me to be your valentine."

the secret’s finally out and you get to see how the cog wheels in his head are starting to turn in real time, it has you holding back a giggle when he looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“is that..why you were mad ?” you nod, humming out a playful mhmm

“ya really hurt my feelings you know ? to think my own boyfriend wouldn’t ask me” you clench your fist over your heart and fake sob dramatically.

shoto huffs out a laugh, relieved to see you’re not actually mad, and goes to sit down on your bed. he tentatively reaches for your hand and squeezes it twice when you let him hold it. before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sweet little kiss to it. it feels as if pop rocks are going off inside of you.

“ i’m sorry for not asking you to be my valentine.” he apologizes, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing your hand “ i was thinking i should’ve, but i didn’t want you to think it was weird since we’re already dating.” his thumb goes to run over your fingers “ i was worried me being too intense would scare you off.” he mumbles.

your eyebrows furrow, you lean towards him to make him look at you “ you wouldn’t scare me off, who told you that ?”

“kaminari. he said ‘coming on too strong scares away the babes.’ ” shoto quotes

you sigh. of course it was that bigmouth portable charger filling his head with this stuff.

you pull your hand out of his grasp and he looks up to protest but you grab his face in your hands before he can say anything, you can practically see him start melting at the contact as he blinks at you slowly, he reminds you of a cat.

“sho” you purr, rubbing his cheeks “ rule number one is never ever listening to kaminari’s dating advice. most of the time it is very wrong.” you explain.

shoto presses his mouth to the palm of your hand “yeah, i’m starting to regret that now.” he speaks into it, you snort. he leans in closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips and you reciprocate, pressing a few more kisses on his lips for good measure “ i’m really sorry for not asking you.” he says in between pecks. you hum in response to him placing even more kisses all around your face. “s’okay. i’m also kinda sorry for putting you up for sale.” you say, running your fingers through his hair while he places kisses on your shoulder.

he lifts his head up to look at you then, an eyebrow raised with an amused expression on his face “kinda sorry ?” he asks.

you nod “mhm. kinda sorry.”

he chuckles to himself, then gets up so he can climb into bed next to you. when he’s positioned how he likes it, with his head in your lap while you comb through his hair with your fingers, he sighs peacefully “well, it wasn’t all bad. i’m glad you think i’m a good cook.”

“what about the crusty feet ?”

“i’m choosing to ignore that part.” shoto smirks lightly to himself when he hears you laugh at his joke, clearly proud of himself for it. “and i will buy you anything you want, to make it up to you.”

“i don’t need you to buy me anything, sho” you roll your eyes with a lovesick smile “ all you gotta do is ask.”

he blinks up at you, looks off the the side as if he’s deep in thought, and suddenly gets off your lap to sit right in front of you. you never think you’ll get over how pretty your boyfriend is and being reminded of it with how close he is to you makes you flustered. he leans in to kiss you passionately and you don’t know if it’s the love he pours into it or the lack of air that has you so dizzy, you don’t dwell on it.

when he pulls away he’s looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky and he simply, almost shyly smiles at you and asks.

“ will you be my valentine ?”

bakugou katsuki ♥︎

you did not expect katsuki to come barging into your dorm room five minutes after you’d posted your tiktok. the loud sound of someone banging on your door and proceeding to let themselves in seconds later causes you to let out a squeak.

in comes katsuki, phone tightly clutched in his hand and the moment his eyes zeroed on you he’s like a bull charging at a red flag. he stands right in front of you, angry frown on display before he shoves his phone in your face.

“explain this. now.” he growls, you have to hold back a laugh, keeping your face as calm as possible you look between him, his screen then back at your phone.

“what’s confusing about it ? i thought i was being pretty straight forward.”

his eye twitches. “why the hell did you put me up for sale ?! and for three dollars and fifty fuckin’ cents ?!” he exclaims, you can’t help the snort that bursts out of you, though katsuki doesn’t look as amused as you are.

“explain.” he deadpans.

“i think you can figure it out.” you shrug back.

he mutters insults to himself that you can’t catch “well obviously fuckin’ not, cus I wouldn’t be askin’ you if i did.” you simply shrug and look back at your phone. “i wrote it in the caption.”

it takes him a second to process then he’s tapping his password and opening the clock app at super sonic speed. his eyebrows furrow and you see him tapping away at his phone. his eyes widen when he reads your caption and he looks down at you with a mix of desperation and disbelief.

“you’re mad cus I didn’t ask you to be my valentine ?” your bratty huff and turn to the side as you shrug again is all the answer he needs. he looks at you for about 5 seconds longer then sighs.

he sits down on your bed and keeps staring. katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things and one of those things is you ignoring him. a warm hand on your ankle startles you and you can’t even ask him what he’s doing before your being yanked towards him. you squeal, almost missing the smirk on his face or the huff of laughter at your reaction. almost though, so you glare at him. katsuki looms over you until your noses almost touch, then you turn away with a huff. he chuckles, pressing his lips to your neck.

“ yer such a baby, y’know that ?” he mumbles, smirking against you neck. you huff but make no effort to shrug him off “ no i’m not, jerk. is it so wrong for me to want my boyfriend to ask me to be his valentine’s ?” you grumble, trying to ignore the feel of his warm lips against your skin, it’s not working so well for you.

“s’not what i’m sayin, sweets” he nips at your earlobe “‘m sayin’ ya coulda just told me ‘stead of bein’ a baby about it.” you can’t tell if this is his way of trying to apologize. either way, you don’t want to give in just yet.

“i’m not supposed to tell you to ask me to be your valentine’s katsuki, that’s not the point~ !” you huff petulantly. you feel a but childish but, c’mon ! it’s a given to have your boyfriend as your valentine and it wouldn’t hurt your demon spawn of a boyfriend to be a little but romantic once in a while.

he playfully rolls his eyes at you “see, what’d i tell you? big baby.” leaning forward he nips at your nose making you groan and trying to push him away with your palm. katsuki being the powerhouse that he is, doesn’t budge. “ i didn’t think to ask ya cus you’re already mine. so why should i need to ask something that’s a given ?”

your heart beats faster at his words and katsuki takes his chance when he feels you loosing up more and more. suddenly he’s got your wrists in his grip, holding them above you and looking down at you with that sickeningly handsome smirk. you’re almost there, he can practically feel it.

“i—i’m..still mad at you” you stutter out weakly, your defenses are down.

“yeah ?” he taunts.

“yeah. apologize.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly “why should i apologize ? you said my fuckin’ feet stink.”

“ ah, ah, ah.” you tut “don’t put words in my mouth, i said your feet were crusty.”

“yeah, thanks babe. that makes it so much better.” he sasses, you laugh “and i complimented you ! i said you were an amazing cook !”

“yeah but that ain’t a compliment, ‘ts a fact.” he says matter of factly, you’re eyes threaten to get stuck at the back of your skull with how hard you roll them and he snickers.

he dives in and steals a kiss, and then another one when you don’t stop him. when he pulls away to catch his breath, ready to steal another kiss you stop him by placing your hand on his chest. he looks down at you questioningly and you give him a raised brow in response. he groans.

“fine. m’sorry” he concedes quietly

“foooorrr ?” you urge.

he narrows his eyes at you as if saying “don’t push it” but swallows his words down “ for not askin’ you to be my valentine’s or whatever the fuck” he shoves his now hot face into your neck and mumbles “now quit bein’ all pissed at me.”

you’re happy enough with that, so you wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands creeping up his nape and into his hair. he sighs contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention you’re giving him.

“thank you. i’m also sorry for saying you have crusty feet.” hearing him scoff at the accusation makes you giggle “and for putting you up for sale.” he hums, happy with your apology.

“..kinda.”

“oi.” he warns. you giggle in response continuing your ministrations in his hair.

“you still haven’t asked me so..” you trail off. he lifts his head up to look at you with a blond eyebrow raised.

“ does this valentine shit really matter that much to you ?” he asks.

you respond immediately “yes.” nodding aggressively to make your point.

he sighs, shaking his head. he looks at you, then looks off to the side in embarrassment, he can be so cute when he wants to be. steeling his nerves he looks you straight in the eyes. fearless with fierce red cheeks and all.

“b-be my valentine, idiot..”

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boltonbritreads · 5 months ago

Text

🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs

This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.

I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨

Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers

@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore

@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy

@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world

@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again

@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up

@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!

@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it

@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done

@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!

@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn

@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now

@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹

@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??

@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine

@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩

…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read

@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader

~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ♥️ ~~

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie x reader

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bettysupremacy · 1 year ago

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hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭

I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(

you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!

thank uu

i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!

There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.

Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.

“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.

His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.

“Sirius.”

He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.

“So hungry.”

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.

He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.

“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.

He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?

“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”

“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.

The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.

You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”

It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.

“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.

You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.

“You new around here?”

An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”

He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”

“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”

“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“

“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”

“No,” the man scoffs.

“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”

He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”

“Well, conversations over now.”

“She can make her own decisions.”

“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.

“She was asking for it.”

Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.

James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.

Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.

“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”

You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”

He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.

He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.

“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”

He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.

“You do.” James feeds Sirius.

“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”

“You look good.”

“Oh, now you tell me.”

You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.

“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.

“That was stupid.”

“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”

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actiniumwrites · 5 months ago

Text

patches

synopsis: even though you’re both self-proclaimed enemies, they can’t bear to see you hurt. or in which, you show up at your enemies door all bloodied and bruised and they’re forced to take care of you

characters: xiao, gaming, alhaitham, and arlecchino x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, injuries, crying, enemies to lovers, some of them are kinda mean, extremely mild misunderstandings, probably swearing idk

notes: i’m in a massive enemies to lovers kick right now omg you guys don’t understand. this was also inspired by arlecchino’s voiceline from a heavy hit or something where she says, “wanted my full attention, did you?” she’s so fine i’m sobbing 😖

Xiao:

It was a relatively quiet night before you showed up at Xiao’s room at the Wangshu Inn. For the first time in a while, he had felt a semblance of peace. That was until the indistinguishable scent of blood forced itself in his nose and a weak knock sounded at his door.

Xiao opens it immediately. He doesn’t care to know who it is, but rather what they want with him at nearly three in the morning. No one ever bothers Xiao this late. Not unless it was serious.

“What do you—“ he starts harshly but stops mid sentence when he recognizes your face. You’re doused in blood, your clothes all ripped up. And god, you look so weak it almost makes him feel bad for you. “Get inside,” he grabs your arm harshly, but still manages to avoid all your injuries.

You start to speak, but your mouth is full of blood too. He can barely understand what you’re saying aside from a bunch of nonsensical, I’m sorries. And if your injuries weren’t enough to show it, the fact that you’re apologizing to him at all tells him something is seriously wrong. Most of the time you talk to him it’s a bunch of insults thrown back and forth, some even result in physical fighting. Neither of you have been able to get along for centuries, yet here you are getting patched up in his house.

Xiao remains mostly silent as he sets you on the counter and pulls out his medical supplies. First he cleans up all the excess blood with a cloth before tossing it aside and moving to work on the actual injury itself. You can’t help but watch him, feeling nothing but shame as you do. You couldn’t help it. There was no one else you could think to go to.

“You are unbelievably weak and irresponsible. It’s idiotic to think you could ever handle anything in this world, not even a few monsters,” he grumbles between stitches, “Pathetic.”

You just stare at him as tears well up in your eyes. You aren’t one to cry. In fact, you can’t even remember the last time something so bad happened that you did. But sitting here, terrified of the monsters that had you within an inch of your life combined with Xiao’s cold words made you completely shatter inside and out.

Quietly, you sob into your other half-cleaned arm, “I know. You don’t have to say it.” You begin to get up right after, mumbling about it being a mistake coming here but he pushes your knee back down before you can fully stand up.

Xiao looks up surprised from where he sits as he does, his hands drop the thread and needle against the counter. Without word, he stands up and furrows his brows. “I should not have said what I said,” he practically whispers, a twinge of embarrassment hitting him too. A darker look shades his gentle amber irises as he stares into yours, “I don’t entirely dislike you. As stupid as your actions may have been, seeing you injured makes me…upset.”

“They weren’t normal monsters,” you breathe out between the remaining sobs that still involuntarily leave your mouth. You know you don’t owe him an explanation, but you figured you could at least make it known you weren’t taken out by some random hilichurls. “I was down in the Chasm. Those…things weren’t anything like I’ve ever seen before. I didn’t even have time to react.”

Xiao nods and places the last bandage on your face, “You shouldn’t go down there by yourself. It’s too dangerous. The last time I was there I hardly escaped.”

“What do you mean?” you raise a brow, your interest suddenly peaked. Xiao wipes the remaining tears off of your face in silence before turning to walk away.

“Call for me next time and I’ll be there.”

Gaming:

Gaming and you had gotten off on the wrong foot when you first met each other years ago. As children, you always felt like he stole your spotlight and he never seemed to care. And as you got older, it never seemed to go away. You constantly bickered and loathed having to see each other whenever one another’s name was brought up.

Yet whenever you got hurt, he was always the first person you went to. Although normally, it was for small things like paper cuts and bruised elbows. Not for your face having a cut so deep you could barely see and an arm twisted out of place like today.

“Fuck,” you mutter as you bang on his door, hoping it was the right one. There was too much blood in your eyes. Every door in the village looks the same right now, and even if it is the right one, you aren’t sure he’s even home. “Please be home,” you pace back and forth. Gaming stopped asking questions years ago when it first started.

You were forced to go with him after a group of bandits had found and beat you up, taking nearly everything you had in your bag. Gaming had found you while on delivery, and like the sweet guy he is, he stopped and helped you even though you could both barely stand each other. He didn’t want to see you dead either.

You weren’t often hurt, but it became somewhat of a cycle whenever you were. You were a nice person, well liked by most, but you also enjoyed stirring up trouble and it often landed you in some pretty hot water countless times. You knew Gaming wouldn’t say anything to anyone or turn you away like other people would. And above all, you like the kinder side of him whenever he patched you up, which he was good at too.

“Gaming!” your fist pounds on the door again. It’s almost nightfall and a few villagers have begun staring. You almost go to knock again, but your body begins to give out. You mumble a few more curse words before the door opens and you fall forward, directly onto the very person you were looking for.

“Ow ow ow, oh my god my arm!”

“Sorry! Is that blood?! What happened to you?”

“I don’t know! Ask the guys who thought my joke wasn’t funny.”

Gaming picks you up off the floor in a state of panic and rushes you to the bathroom. Luckily for you both, his dad isn’t home to see all of this.

Gaming begins to wipe the blood off your face and examine the cut that runs all the way from your forehead to your cheek, narrowly missing your eye. “This is bad,” he says and begins rummaging through his drawers for medical supplies.

You scoff, “Yeah, you think?”

“You didn’t have to come here, you know. You should’ve gone to a doctor,” he bites back nicely. Sometimes you wish he would just be a little meaner to you. It was easier to hate him that way.

You quiet down and let him take care of your face, “I’m sorry. You’re the only one who I can actually trust to take care of me.”

Gaming hides a small smile while avoiding eye contact with you. Not that you could even see, but just in case. He’d never admit it, but he actually really enjoys when you go to him for help. He’s never resented you like you’ve resented him, but he never bothered to change it either. Somehow he hoped bandaging you up would make you change your mind about him.

“It’s alright,” he says softly, pouring disinfectant onto a small cloth and wiping the cut gently. You wince and he places a hand on your upper arm to silently comfort you, “If you want some good news, you don’t need stitches on your face.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, having always hated needles, “Thank god.”

“But you will have to see a doctor for your arm. There’s no way for me to fix that on my own,” he says bashfully, “I can maybe…take you if you’d like?”

You peer up at him, shocked at the question. Perhaps this could be a new start between the two of you, and you’re not so against it.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Alhaitham:

It’s pouring outside when Alhaitham hears banging on his front door. At first, he ignores it thinking it was just Kaveh forgetting his keys again and he doesn’t care enough to let him in. But the banging persists and then comes the faint sound of pained sobs.

He slams his book shut and groans as he gets up and trudges angrily to the door. He swings it open only to be met with the sight of you clutching your waist, barely keeping yourself standing as the rain envelopes you.

“Please,” you whisper weakly.

Alhaitham scoffs, “Really? I’m not a doctor, go somewhere else.” He begins to shut the door, and he almost does so successfully before you collapse on the floor, blood beginning to mix with the puddle outside his door. And there’s a lot of it.

The next thing you know, you’re in your least favorite scholar’s arms as he carries you to his room. He sets you on a chair and you take the time to take in what his room looks like. It isn’t much different than you expected, yet you never thought you’d see it.

“Don’t move. I don’t want you making any more of a mess than you already have,” he sneers, walking off to the bathroom connected to his room to grab out a small bag of medical supplies. When he returns you’re blankly staring ahead of you, barely conscious as tears start running down your face. It’s like you don’t even know you’re crying. Alhaitham stares at you for a moment in utter disbelief before snapping in your face, “Take your shirt off.”

“Huh?” you snap out of your daze, confusedly wiping your tears as you do so. A few sniffles leave your nose as you do so.

“Do you want help or not?” he snaps again, losing his patience with you. He’s beginning to seriously regret not leaving you on his doorstep. You quickly follow his instructions, taking off your shirt to reveal a huge cut stemming from one side of your stomach to the other.

Alhaitham’s eyes slightly widen in shock, and he almost can’t pull them away. For a brief moment, you even catch them soften but it’s fleeting and doesn’t give you enough time to register that maybe the stoic scribe really does care for you, even just a little bit.

You both sit in complete silence as he begins working. You catch his eyes every so often, but he quickly looks back down at the injury before either of you can speak on it.

“Who was it?” Alhaitham grumbles as he finishes wrapping it up, his arms wrapped around your waist. The feeling of his hands distracts you from the question.

“What?”

“The people that did this. Who was it?” he repeats it, more anger this time around. You shake your head and look off to the side.

“I don’t know. It was too dark to get a good look at them,” you try to explain, but Alhaitham doesn’t have any of it. You’re not sure why, but he doesn’t seem like the normal him. The guy that normally finds any and every chance to torment you.

He gets up and grabs the bag, noting something down on a nearby piece of paper and shoving it in the left pocket of his pants before angrily walking out the door of his bedroom, “I’ll be back.”

“Wait! Don’t go,” Your hand reaches out and grabs his. You pull back suddenly, not realizing how impulsive your decision was until it was too late. You go to mumble a sorry, but before you can, you find your hand back in his.

You stare at him in shock, but he just squeezes your shaking hand. “Stay here,” he says somehow both coldly and warmly at once, pulling the blankets back and gesturing to his bed, “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Where are you going?”

“To deal with the people that hurt you.”

Arlecchino:

You wince as the door swings open aggressively, not expecting Arlecchino to open the door before you could even think to knock.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, squinting her eyes so as to scale you up and down. For a moment, they linger over your bloodstained clothes and the already bruising cuts that litter your body. You don’t notice the way they widen in shock for a moment, too distracted by the adrenaline wearing off.

You still manage to crack an arrogant smile and sarcastically mutter, “Couldn’t think of anyone worth patching me up but you.”

Without waiting for a response, you push past her figure and let yourself inside already knowing where the infirmary is. Although, you don’t make it two steps before your legs give out and your body tumbles toward the hardwood floors.

The clicking of heels stops from just beside you before a strong hand grips your arm and aggressively pulls you up, “Don’t dirty my floors. The children worked hard to clean those today.”

“Yeah? Well they can clean them again tomorrow,” you grumble and weakly attempt to push her hand off of your body. Arlecchino doesn’t budge, however. She instead drags you all the way to the infirmary and sets you down on one of the beds.

“Wow these are surprisingly comfortable. Didn’t know you had it in you to be so accommodating to all the children you like to hold hostage,” you tease to keep yourself from focusing on the pain. She ignores you and instead places a firm hand on your uninjured chest and slams your back against the bed.

Immediately, she begins working on all the little cuts and gently wipes all the blood away, saving your bigger injuries to be dealt with in a moment. For now, she didn’t mind if you suffered for a little longer.

“So,” Arlecchino starts after a few minutes of silence, finally deeming it worthy to have a real conversation with you, “was this your way of getting my full attention? If you wanted me to notice you, you should have just said something.”

“What? No! I got attacked, I wasn’t trying to ‘get your attention’ or whatever.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I really wasn’t,” you cross your arms and turn your head away from her, “I was scared, you know? I didn’t know who else to go to. Make fun of me all you want, but it’s the truth.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She doesn’t say anything more after the conversation takes its turn. You’re glad she doesn’t, not wanting to engage in the horrible embarrassment you already felt from having to show up here anyway. She was the last person you’d want to have see your weakness, yet here you are covered in the House of the Hearth’s bandages.

When Arlecchino is done with stitching up your leg, she moves to your face and gently brushes away the blood. And cut by cut, she heals each one and leaves you feeling brand new again. You stare up at her for a brief moment, unable to look anywhere else when the red X’s in her eyes are so focused on you.

“So who did it?” She asks suddenly, her tone a little more caring than before. It almost shocks you, but then again, deep down you knew she cared more than she let on. No matter how much either of you didn’t get along, you always had her back. Even if she didn’t know it. You always liked the think that she had yours too.

You sigh and scribble down a few names on a nearby clipboard left by the bed, “That’s only a few of them…the ones I was able to get talking before everything happened. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding their leader though.”

Her eyes scan over the paper before she glances back at you and nods. She begins to walk away but stops at the doorway and calls out over her shoulder, “I’ll be back in the morning. My room is on the second floor, last door at the end of the hall. I expect to find you resting there when I return.”

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briefinquiries · 5 months ago

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Promise You'll Call

Prompt: hi first i just want to say i love you writing so much. Do you think you could write something where luke finds out the reader’s significant other is harming them (mentally or physically)? I understand this is a rough topic but i was just going through a hard time with flashbacks. I understand if you can’t, thank you!

Word count: 7k (idk how this got to be so long)

Warnings: DV mention (in detail), blood tw

A/N: ayyyyooo, it's been forever since i've posted, but enjoy! i wanted to post, so i haven't proof read yet, so please excuse any grammatical mistakes, I'll go back and fix tomorrow :)

Luke honestly didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It just so happened that he was still in his truck, finishing up the burnt bagel he’d made in a rush this morning when you pulled into the parking garage. At first, Luke didn’t recognize that it was you in the black BMW that stopped in the middle of the garage, right behind his own truck. But when he peeked through his rearview mirror, he saw you sitting in the passenger seat, tucking a curtain of hair behind your ear.

Luke’s stomach flipped, the same way it did every time he saw you.

Except this time, he actually felt guilty for it, because he was pretty sure the guy driving the car was your boyfriend. Luke was new to the team in the last year, and while he’d done a pretty good job getting to know everyone at the BAU, he still hadn’t met partners or family yet. You were one of the few agents who never talked about your personal life at work.

But even though Luke couldn’t see the man driving the car, as soon as you cracked open the passenger side door, he certainly heard him.

Was it even considered eavesdropping if the entire parking garage could hear?

“I’m not done talking!” The man’s voice echoed across the entire garage, causing Luke to straighten in his seat.

“Will you lower your voice?” You snapped back in a hushed tone, before looking around the space, clearly embarrassed.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!”

“The whole city is going to hear you, Justin, please.”

“I don’t care if they do– get back in the fucking car!”

Something in Luke’s chest began boiling at the sound of his tone. Did he always speak to you that way? He fought back the urge to peel himself out of his truck. You were his coworker– not his girlfriend. It wasn’t his place to knock this guy down a few pegs, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“I have nothing else to say to you right now–”

“Good, don’t talk. Fucking listen for once in your life!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said, voice eerily calm. It was like you were almost used to this kind of fighting– like you knew the exact steps to take to attempt de-escalating him. “I have to get to work. We’ll talk about this later.”

“If you shut that fucking door, you’re walking home. I swear to–” but the man’s voice was abruptly cut off by you shutting the door.

Luke secretly felt proud as he watched you turn and walk away from the BMW without looking back.

Suddenly, music blared through the speakers of the car before Luke heard tires squealing while the car drove away. Luke remained in place while he heard your footsteps fade into the distance, not wanting to embarrass you further or let you know he’d been heard the entire conversation that just played out.

But while he gave you a moment to catch the elevator without him, Luke didn’t like the feeling that settled in his stomach. If your boyfriend acted like that in the middle of the bureaus parking garage, what the hell was he like behind closed doors?

…

You fought back tears for the entire elevator ride. Thank God no one got into the lift with you, so you at least had a moment of peace before having to pull everything together.

Justin woke up mad– again. That had been a regular occurrence for the last year. And for the last month, he’d been convinced you were cheating on him. With zero evidence aside from a “hunch” he was apparently going on, there was no amount of convincing or location sharing or reminding him that your job came with sporadic hours that would change his mind. And things were getting worse. Each day it felt like he was angrier– more out of control. And each day you told yourself that you could handle it. You were literally trained on how to de-escalate murderers, for God’s sake. But this morning, when you woke up to not one, but four flat tires on the car you parked in the garage, you knew things were escalating again.

As the elevator climbed, your phone suddenly pinged in your pocket. You pulled it out to read the text back from your mother. You’d reached out to her earlier, letting her know what you’d suspected– that Justin had slashed your tires so that you couldn’t take your own car to work.

Mom: He wouldn’t do that. I know you are going through a rough patch, but Justin’s a good man. Did you reach out to that couple’s therapist I told you about?

You let out a sigh.

Typical.

Justin had worked at the local hospital with your father before he retired. As a world-wide renowned cardiovascular surgeon with a strong handshake and charismatic demeanor, he could do no wrong in your parent’s eyes.

In the few instances you actually had reached out to them for support in the last year, the burden always fell back on you. What had you done to piss him off? What were you doing to mitigate the situation? You should have learned by now not to reach out to either one of them. You wouldn’t get the response you wanted.

The elevator slowly climbed and you knew you had to pull it together. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You reached the fifth floor and stepped out of the elevator, trying to forget about everything that had just happened.

Within an hour, a new case rolled in. You sat around the round table and listened to Emily give the rundown while Garcia clicked through slides of gruesome crime scenes she blatantly refused to even glimpse at . You tried to pay attention– to compartmentalize your home life like you had always been so good at doing. But as soon as you heard that the case was in Idaho– across the country, worry began creeping back inside of you. One of the biggest problems that Justin had was your constant travel for work. Although he was allowed to put in consistent, 16-hour days at the hospital, he got upset every time you told him where your next case was.

Which, honestly, you understood. When you took the job with the BAU, you never expected to have much of a life outside of it. You were gone more than you were home, and you knew that sort of lifestyle wasn’t for everyone. Except when you met him, Justin had known what you did for work. You didn’t lie or keep it a secret. He said he was okay with the traveling and the long hours. Until he wasn’t.

Suddenly, there was a gentle tap on your shoulder. Every thought racing through your mind blew away and you refocused on the present moment.

“Everything okay?” It was Luke asking.

You looked around to realize that everyone else was packing up their belongings to board the jet. Turning to face Luke, you nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Just daydreaming, I guess.”

“Daydreaming with those crime scenes in the background?” he asked, nodding towards the gruesome picture still up on the screen. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that.”

You let out a breath of laughter. Luke hadn’t been on the team for long, but you realized within a few weeks of knowing him that he always knew how to make people laugh– no matter what was going on in the world around you. That was one of the many reasons he fit in so effortlessly with the team.

“We can do a mindfulness class sometime,” you joked.

He smiled, dimples popping from his dark, smooth skin. “I’d attend consistently.”

Something fluttered in your stomach.

You just chalked it up to stress and nerves.

…

Luke was supposed to be reviewing the case on the flight. Instead, he couldn’t stop watching you. Out of all the open seats, you chose one right across from him. You had the file open on your lap while your eyes scanned the page. Luke could tell you weren’t reading either, though, because the jet had already been airborne for almost half an hour and you hadn’t flipped the page.

Meanwhile, Reid, who was to Luke’s right, had already read the entire file, front to back, probably three times by now.

“Can you give me the Sparknotes version?” Luke leaned over and asked him.

“What’s Sparknotes?” Reid asked, no hint of humor in his voice.

Luke’s jaw fell open. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?”

“I don’t really think that intelligence can be measured or quantified in the way humans have tried to in the past. Technically I have an eidetic memory, which allows me to recall information with accurate precision. Meaning I’d actually have to see the information once to be able to recall it. I’ve never seen a Sparknote… or whatever you called it.”

A smirk spread across your lips, your eyes darting up to meet Luke’s.

Luke shook his head in disbelief, offering you a small smile before turning back to Spencer. He’d been with the team nearly a year now and he still hadn’t gotten used to Reid’s demeanor. He wondered if he ever would.

“You never had to Google the summary of a book when you were younger?”

Reid gave Luke a perplexed look. “Why would I do that if I have the book in front of me?”

“Because it’s faster.”

“I can read–”

“20 thousand words a minute,” Rossi interrupted as he walked by with an empty cup of coffee. “Yeah, we know, kid.”

He placed a free hand on Luke’s shoulder, patting it gently. “I have no idea what prompted this conversation, but trust me when I say it’s not worth it.”

Luke heard you stifle a laugh as Rossi walked past.

…

You’d been on edge the entire plane ride. Justin never responded to your message, letting him know you’d be away for at least the next couple of days on a case. Maybe he was in the OR today, or maybe the hospital’s cell service was just spotty.

Or maybe he really was just that mad at you.

You knew the way he treated you was wrong. You recognized the red flags that had been staring you right in the face. But slashing your tires? Maybe your mom was right– maybe there was another explanation. Because no matter how much he yelled, or got in your face, or tried to intimidate you, you really didn’t think there was any way he could do that.

You hated being this distracted while you worked. Emily was having to repeat instructions for you, JJ was throwing you worried glances, Spencer had asked three times now if you were okay… It was like you were the one being profiled in Idaho.

Of course that wasn’t really the case, though. You were in Sun Valley because of a string of murdered women, each left dumped and discarded in ditches off the parkway. Each with ligature markings around their necks. Each with evidence of sexual assault. And each deserving of your undivided attention.

You tried your best to give it to them. But in reality, when the case finally wrapped up six days after you’d arrived, you knew that everyone had picked up your slack.

And while you were grateful to be part of a team that could pick up the slack of others, you hated that you had to utilize it.

‘Unbelievable.’

That had been the only message you received from Justin the entire week you were away. You sent a practical novel back– trying to apologize and explain your side. Then you tried calling at least twice a day. But each time you went straight to his voicemail. Normally, space wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Except the jet was about to land back at Quantico, and you were terrified of what was next.

Not to mention you had no ride home.

“Hey,” a soothing voice suddenly said, stirring you from your thoughts.

When you glanced up, you saw Luke gesturing towards the open seat across from you.

“You mind? Everyone else is asleep.”

For a moment, you looked around the jet and noticed that Luke was right. Practically everyone was sprawled out or curled up against a window, passed out. You couldn’t blame them. It had been a rough case. If circumstances were different and you weren’t currently overthinking everything in your life, you’d probably be passed out too.

Eventually you turned back to Luke and nodded. “You couldn't sleep?” You asked him.

He shook his head. “Nah. I never sleep on planes. I think it’s a control-thing. I can never calm myself down enough to actually sleep.”

You frowned. “Now that you say that, I’ve never actually seen you sleep on the jet.”

“And you probably never will.”

You grinned back. “Does that mean I’ll never get to know if Luke Alvez snores?”

“I’m afraid that information is classified,” he smirked.

“Such a tease.”

Luke let out a low chuckle before casually leaning forward in his seat. “I did want to see if everything was okay, though.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, probably sounding too defensive.

He shrugged. “I mean you just didn’t seem yourself this week. Not in a bad way or anything– just off.”

Shit. You knew it had been noticeable. But even still, the small part of you that was hoping it wasn’t deflated at Luke’s words. You actually debated telling him everything, which was so out of the norm for you lately. Ever since you and Justin had been having problems, you’d turned into a shell of who you used to be– you never hung out with Penn, Emily, or JJ anymore. You never had time for getting your ass kicked at chess on the jet with Reid, because you were too busy worrying if Justin was mad at you for leaving. You never joined everyone at Rossi’s evening dinners because you felt guilty for spending nights that you were home away from the house and Justin would never go with you.

Suddenly, the harsh reality slapped you right in the face: You didn’t like who you were becoming. You didn’t like who you were when you were with Justin. The thought made you want to curl up and hide from the world– from Luke. But there was something about the way he looked at you– so earnest and intentional, like he was hanging onto every word, like he actually wanted to be someone you could trust, that felt prevented you from doing so.

“You’re chewing on your lip,” Luke pointed out. “That’s how I always know when you’re overthinking.”

You relaxed your jaw instantly. That’s how he always knew? How often was Luke paying attention to your moods and mannerisms? The thought made something flutter in your stomach, but not in the anxious way it had been fluttering recently. This was softer– less scary.

“Stupid profilers,” you muttered under your breath, desperate to break through whatever tension was boiling between the two of you.

It was enough to earn a chuckle from Luke. “We are pretty annoying, aren’t we?” He sat back in his chair, cracking his knuckles casually. “You know, my last two girlfriends have broken up with me because of this job. One was serious– the last one, not so much. But still. They said it was too demanding– that I couldn’t make them a priority. I don’t know if you remember the Orlando case last fall. The one with–”

“The fourteen year old boy. We were too late to save him, but we got his sister,” you finished for him. “I remember.” Not only did you remember, but that very same case had been burned into your brain for months.

Luke nodded. “Yeah. Well, when we got back from that case, that’s when she broke up with me. She said she was trying to deal with me being gone all the time. But if I couldn’t even be present when I was home, she was done. God, I had nightmares about that case for weeks– still do sometimes.”

You gazed at him sympathetically. Unfortunately, his story wasn’t that out of the norm. Aside from you, everyone on the team in a relationship was already married. Once you had a solid, established relationship, most times it was doable. But the reality was, it was hard to date someone and be part of the BAU.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Don’t be,” he waved you off. “They were right. I put my job first. And I’d like to think that the person I’m supposed to be with would understand how important this work is to me, even if each case takes a little piece from me.”

You thought about Justin– always criticizing, always making comments and remarks about how much you worked. You thought about the last few weeks and all the late nights you’d sat and done unnecessary paper at your desk just to avoid going home to him.

“Or maybe you’d actually want to make the person you’re supposed to be with the priority,” you suggested softly without meeting Luke’s gaze.

Luke had just been so vulnerable with you– telling you about his relationship problems like you were someone he could confide in. And the scary part was, you liked it. You liked being someone he came to with these types of things. You wished he’d do it more.

Justin never confided in you– never let you confide in him, either. You stared intently down at your lap and wondered what it would feel like to have someone who would.

“Justin and I– we’re having some issues.”

Finally, you dared to look up at Luke. His brown eyes looked black in the dimly lit jet, but they still glistened as he listened. “He’s just so mad at me,” you whispered, voice faltering. You’d barely said anything, but you could already feel all of the emotions you’d been masking and forcing down start to bubble towards the surface. “All the time. And I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know if I want to do anything about it.”

Luke leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees while he wound his fingers together. “I heard him when he dropped you off in the garage the other day,” Luke said honestly. Instantly, you felt heat rise to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear, I was just waiting in my car because I was early and well–”

You took a shaky breath, embarrassed beyond belief. “Anyone in the vicinity would have heard him that day.”

Luke’s voice lowered. “Does he always talk to you like that?”

Yes, you thought.

“No. That was just a bad morning.”

Luke nodded, but pursed his lips like he didn’t quite believe you. “I know it isn’t my place, but you don’t deserve that. I mean, fuck, no one does. But especially you.”

You smiled softly, trying to believe that he was right– that you didn’t deserve Justin’s harsh comments or anger. And on some level, you knew you didn’t. But another part of you always wondered why you didn’t try harder– why you didn’t care if he ended things or not.

“Thanks Luke.”

He nodded, leaning back once again. You gazed out the jet window, seeing familiar city lights in the distance. You’d be landing soon. And then it was back to whatever grim reality faced you at home.

“You don’t have your car today, do you?” Luke asked suddenly, stirring you from your thoughts.

You shook your head. “Uh no. When I went to leave for work, my tires were flat.”

“All of them?” he asked, sounding shocked.

“All of them.”

“What’d you do, park in a pile of glass?”

“No, I think they were slashed.”

Luke’s eyes widened, a wave of concern washing over his face. “You don’t think–”

“I have no proof,” you said, knowing instantly what Luke was implying before he even said it. “But yes.”

“Jesus–”

You took a slow, steadying breath, doing your best not to fall apart in front of Luke.

“I think your place is on my way home,” Luke said after a moment. “I can give you a ride.”

You looked up, instantly ready to decline the generous offer. Luke was good– too good. And you didn’t want to ruin whatever type of friendship was blossoming between you by being too needy right from the start.

“Don’t even try to say no,” he spoke first. “Please let me give you a ride.”

By habit, you chewed on your lower lip.

“Don’t overthink it,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have offered if it was going to be an inconvenience.”

You felt guilty– you really couldn’t help it, and you weren’t used to accepting help from others. But something about Luke’s tone was so earnest, you believed him. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t expect you to say yes. After a moment, you nodded slowly. “Okay,” your head hung, gaze falling to your lap. “Thank you.”

The two of you spent the final minutes of the jet ride sitting quietly, gazes fixated out the window as the pilot landed you safely back in Quantico. When the lights flickered on, your other team members stirred in their seats with exhausted sighs and groans. You grabbed your go bag and followed closely behind Luke as he stepped off the plane.

“Need anything inside?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, I’m good.”

With that, he adjusted the bag on his shoulder and veered towards the parking garage with you just strides behind him.

Luke made small talk on the ride home. It was like he knew how nervous you were to see Justin and was trying to lighten the mood. You mostly just smiled and nodded in response, and felt grateful when Luke didn’t pressure you or point this out. Only when you got close enough to offer him instructions to your house did you actually utter any words.

Then, before you knew it, Luke was putting his truck in park on the street near your house. You swallowed thickly as soon as you saw Justin’s car in the driveway and a single light still on in the house.

The harsh reality was that you had no idea what to expect when you walked through those doors. But here… now… sitting in this truck with Luke, you felt safe. It was hard to leave that.

But of course you had to. Luke couldn’t wait here all night.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, trying to conceal how shaky your voice sounded.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he said quickly. “But… I just– I mean, I don’t feel good about leaving you here.”

You shook your head quickly. Again, not wanting to feel like a burden. “I’m fine. It’ll be fine. He can be controlling and he gets angry– but he’d never hurt me or anything.”

Luke nodded, although the furrow in his brow told you he didn’t quite believe you.

“You have my number. Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”

You weren’t used to this kind of generosity. But before you could overthink things, you nodded earnestly, believing that you would actually call him if it came to that. If nothing else, Luke had proven how trustworthy he was in the last few hours alone.

“Alright,” he nodded carefully as you slid out of the front seat of his truck, feet colliding with the pavement.

“Thanks again,” you did your best to muster up a genuine smile.

The corner of his lip tugged up slightly, but concern was still plastered over his face. “See you on Monday then.”

“Monday,” you agreed.

With that, you closed the door– putting a literal wall between you and the only person who had made you feel safe in the last week.

You turned towards your house, the knots in your stomach tightening with each passing moment. When you reached the front door, you turned one last time to see Luke leaned forward, eyes trained on you. Your chest softened when you realized he was waiting for you to get inside safely before driving off. Offering him one, final wave, you turned to unlock the front door.

When you first stepped inside your house– everything looked normal. The light above the stove was on and the fridge hummed softly. You placed your duffel bag on the floor and stepped into the kitchen for some water. As you filled up a glass, you began to wonder if maybe you’d overreacted. Maybe Justin had been busy with work this week– just like you’d been.

But your wishful thinking was short lived.

Because the second you turned away from the faucet, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of Justin– standing on the other side of the island counter. You hadn’t even heard him approach you.

“Jesus, Justin–” you gasped, setting your glass of water down on the counter. “You scared me.”

Instead of replying, his eyes just narrowed. He looked angry– angrier than you’d ever seen him. An eerie chill crept down your spine, sending an eruption of goosebumps across your skin.

“Where were you?” he asked, voice menacing and icy.

“I told you– there was a case–”

His hands slammed down on the counter, causing you to take a step back as you jumped.

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not lying–” you said quickly, trying to keep your own voice even. You knew how important it would be to remain calm.

But despite your efforts, Justin swiped his hand across the counter, sending your cup of water colliding into the wall, where it shattered.

You winced, unable to completely contain your shock. Because despite the yelling and the screaming, Justin had never done that before. Something inside of you told you that you had to leave… now– but you couldn’t react in time. Because before you could even turn your body to head towards the door, he was already turning the corner around the island, eliminating the only barrier between you and his violent outburst.

“Where are you going, huh?” he challenged. “Gonna take off again?”

“I was at work, Justin– I told you that.”

He took another step closer to you, sending you a step backwards. Like a choreographed dance, you alternated steps until you heard the crunch of glass beneath your shoes. You’d reached the wall. You were cornered.

Panic flooded through you. And suddenly, logic went out the window. You couldn’t think rationally– you couldn’t problem solve. Everything just went blank.

“Who brought you home tonight, hm?”

He was close enough that you could smell the alcohol melting off his breath. You lowered your head, trying to appear as submissive as you could– because what the hell else were you supposed to do?

“I saw the truck– the white one? Who the fuck was that?”

“Just someone from work,” you answered quickly.

“Just someone from work, huh?” He took another step forward. There was practically no space between the two of you now. “Look at me when you talk.”

You were trembling so hard, you couldn’t follow his commands as fast as he wanted.

“I said–” he snapped harshly. Instantly, you felt fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing your head up. Justin’s hand squeezed, cutting air off. “Look at me when you talk.”

His grip tightened. “Go ahead– say it. Tell me where you were.”

You opened your mouth, but you couldn’t even get air in your lungs, let alone formulate words.

Justin’s eyebrow raised. For a moment, he actually looked like he was enjoying this.

“No?” he asked. “Nothing? Are you finally done lying to me?”

You tried to inhale– but when nothing came, more panic settled in your stomach. You squirmed, needing air fast. Your hands raised to grab his forearm, desperate for him to let go. You tried to breathe again– but when air still didn’t come, you dug your nails into his skin without thinking– scratching him, hoping that would help. Except, you were so panicked, you had no concept of how hard you actually scratched him. Your nails broke through the skin– causing him to release your throat.

“You bitch,” he hissed. Before you could even take a breath, you felt something collide with the side of your face, sending your head whipping to the side.

Your head hung for a moment while your brain tried to comprehend what was happening.

Justin had hit you– and there was currently something warm dripping down the side of your head. As you were hunched over, you felt something then collide with your stomach– hard. His knee maybe? You couldn’t tell–

“You let some man drive you home to my house!” he yelled, hand closing around your throat again. This time, he launched you backwards, whipping your head into the wall forcefully. “And then you come in and you fucking lie about it?”

You grasped at his wrist– not scratching, but trying to get him to loosen his grip. You couldn’t breathe– no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t breathe.

“Please,” you tried to say, but all that came out was a gasp.

You attempted to look at him– hoping he could see how sincere you were being. But when you gazed up, your stomach just dropped. His eyes were menacing– black, empty. He looked like he could kill you right here and now and not care in the slightest.

Justin’s grip tightened, you could feel each individual finger as it dug deeper into your skin, cutting off your airway– crushing your windpipe.

You were going to die– You were going to die and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You dug your nails into his skin again, you flailed– you slapped with what energy you had left. But nothing was working. Your vision was blurring– dark edges starting to create a tunnel around the world. He was too strong– and you were going to die.

Until suddenly, with no warning, Justin’s grip loosened.

Instantly, you slid to the floor– coughing and choking as you gasped for air.

You waited for whatever would come next– a kick to the ribs, something clattering over your head. But instead, you heard his footsteps retreating.

You willed yourself to look up– through foggy vision clouded by tears, you saw Justin backing out of the kitchen, his eyes wide.

“I-I–” he stammered. “I didn’t–” For a moment he paused, like he was frozen in place, before shaking his head.

You were too focused on trying to breathe regularly again to make sense of the look of remorse seemingly on his face before he darted out of the room.

Although he was out of your sight, you knew Justin couldn’t be far. And you knew that, despite the fact that you were sputtering and could barely breathe, you had to get out of that house. With what little strength you had left, you pushed yourself off the floor. Your back throbbed from being thrown against the wall, while a wave of dizziness overcame you. You all but staggered to where you’d dropped your bag earlier, doing a quick scan of the room before grabbing the strap and hauling it over your shoulder.

You hurried to the front door, hand on the knob, when you paused.

Where the hell were you supposed to go?

And then Luke’s words from earlier flashed through your mind.

Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.

You couldn’t– you thought. You’d already asked him for so much. But he did make you promise. And honestly, you couldn’t think of anyone in the world aside from him that you’d talk to about what had just happened.

Suddenly, you heard movement from upstairs.

You didn’t have time to toggle back and forth. You had to make a decision.

Before you could second guess anything, you grabbed your phone from your pocket, pulled up Luke’s contact info, and hurried out the door.

…

The second your name flashed across his screen, Luke knew he shouldn’t have left. Granted, he was only four minutes down the road– but he wished he had listened to his gut and just stayed.

He slid his thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

He was met by an eerie silence.

“Hello?” he repeated.

“Luke–” Your voice sounds so small– so choked up. “I’m sorry– I–”

He waited a moment, hanging on to each word you spoke like it was a prayer.

“Could you– maybe… could you come back? I’m so sorry– I–”

Luke was already turning his truck around before you could finish your choppy sentence.

“I’m on my way,” he assured you. “Stay right there, okay?”

He was pretty sure he heard you agree before the line went dead. But regardless, Luke was back at your house in an instant. The second he put his truck in park, he was already undoing his seatbelt and launching himself out of the car.

He had no idea what he was walking into– all he knew was that he had to get you out of there. What the hell could this asshole have said to you to have you so shaken up over the phone?

He imagined knocking on the door– finding you tear streaked and trembling. It made his insides roar with anger before even seeing you.

Except, when Luke turned the corner of his truck. He didn’t have to reach the front door to see you. He didn’t even have to walk across your lawn. Instead, you were hunched over on the curb, face buried in your hands while your whole body shook.

Luke’s shoulders fell– your name tumbling from his lips as he approached you.

He had prepared for trembling– he had prepared for crying. But what he wasn’t prepared for, was seeing your face, bloodied and bruised when you looked up at him.

He stopped dead in his tracks, everything inside of him turning to ice at the sight.

“Where is he?” Luke managed to choke out. His voice sounded muffled and distant in his own ears.

You let out a shaky breath before attempting to smile– like you were trying to somehow convince him that you were okay. The cut on your lip stretched as you did, making you wince. “Inside,” you whispered.

He nodded once. As much as he didn’t want to leave you out here alone, Luke couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll kill him,” he said through gritted teeth. And just like that, he was off– taking long strides towards the front door. He had no idea what your house looked like– no idea where he’d find that asshole lurking. All Luke knew was that he was going to pay for what he did to you.

He had tunnel vision– the only thing in front of him was a blind, rageful desire to hurt that piece of shit as much as he had hurt you. He was narrowing in on the front door– just a few steps away… until he heard something break through the fog.

It was you– your voice so soft and broken, calling out to him desperately. He turned around, blinders widening to see you standing on the lawn, chest heaving and tears falling down your cheeks quickly.

“Please Luke–” you begged. “Please don’t. I want to leave. Please, can we leave?”

He paused, but only for a second before all of his anger melted away in an instant.

He nodded, knowing right there– in that moment, that he would do absolutely anything for you at the drop of a hat. In a few quick steps, he was back at your side, hand hovering near your lower back just in case you needed extra support.

“We can go,” he said gently, purposely keeping his voice as calm as he could. “Let’s get you in the truck.”

After only a couple of steps, Luke noticed that you were limping. He felt a wave of tears burning behind his eyes. He was frustrated– angry. With your boyfriend, but mostly with himself. He knew he shouldn’t have left. He knew it in his gut. He should have been there– maybe if he’d stayed, he would’ve heard the yelling– he could’ve stepped in before things got this bad.

“Can you get up, okay?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for you.

You nodded, reaching up for the handle bar. He watched as you winced– just the extension of your torso causing your breathing to increase.

“You’re alright,” he said. “Let me help.”

He made sure to wait for you to nod before he placed his hand against your lower back. Ever so gently, he supported your weight so that you could hoist yourself up into the front seat.

“There you go,” he said, once you were safely tucked inside. He closed the door and turned to head to the driver’s side. Just as he did, he caught a flash of movement from the direction of your house. When he looked, he saw Justin standing on the front porch. Even from the road, Luke could see the tears glistening in his eyes.

He felt the familiar anger from earlier resurfacing inside of him. It tightened in his chest– burned in his stomach. He envisioned himself crossing the lawn– grabbing Justin by the shirt collar– launching his fist right into his jaw.

Luke inhaled deeply before looking back towards you. You were staring at him, crying again, your face riddled with fear. Because you knew exactly what he was imagining, and it made you afraid.

Luke’s insides softened.

No.

He would not just be another man who scared you tonight. Luke wanted to be someone you felt safe with.

Without looking back, he hurried along the front of his hood and climbed into his side of the truck. He put the truck in drive and calmly accelerated down the road– away from everything that had ever hurt you.

…

It was only when you were in the safe confinement of Luke’s truck that you realized how bad you were shaking.

The further you got from the house, the more the events from that evening sank into your brain. You’d seen this before with victims– once their adrenaline calmed down and they actually realized they were safe, fight or flight wasn’t protecting them anymore.

There was so much you wanted to say to Luke. But you could barely muster up the strength to breathe, let alone explain yourself.

But you knew that you had to say something. You inhaled shakily and picked at the loose hangnail on your thumb. “Luke, I’m so sorry,” you said, breaking through the thick silence.

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from how hard he was holding on. He hadn’t said a word since you’d been on the road and you found yourself wondering what was going through his mind. Was he angry? Annoyed? Frustrated?

Luke grimaced. “Please don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You bit your lip to keep any tears from spilling out– you’d cried enough in front of Luke for one day. “I just meant that I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything.”

Something in his tone just seemed so off– so curt. You desperately needed to make this right.

“Is there a hotel or something on the way to your place? You don’t have to go out of your way– you can just drop me off, I don’t want to inconvenience you–”

Luke hit the breaks, his truck coming to a stop as he pulled over on the side of the road. After shifting the gear, he turned in his seat to look at you.

“I’m not inconvenienced by you. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel. You’re coming to my place, and I’m going to clean up your cuts, and then I’m going to make you dinner.”

“Luke–” you started to protest but he shook his head.

“Please,” he said, voice cracking. “Please, let me do this– Otherwise… otherwise I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

Your brows furrowed. “Forgive yourself? What are you talking about?”

Luke shook his head, his dark mop of curls unruly after the long day. Slowly, he lifted his head and gazed out of the windshield, like he was deep in thought.

“I knew something was wrong– I mean, I heard the way he spoke to you in the garage. After you told me he slashed your tires… I just knew. I knew something bad would happen when I dropped you off, but I tried to convince myself I was just being dramatic– or paranoid. But I knew– and I didn’t listen. I left you, and you got hurt. So please, let me make you dinner and give you a safe place to be tonight. It’s the least I can do.”

Your mouth hung open– whatever you thought was going on in Luke’s mind, it wasn’t that. Before you could think twice, you leaned forward in your seat and gathered his hand in yours. His warm skin touched yours– sending shockwaves through your entire body.

“None of this was your fault,” you assured him. “In fact, you've shown me more kindness in the last few hours than I think Justin has shown me in the last year. I’m so grateful it was you who came and got me tonight, Luke.”

The words came out so easily– probably because of how true they were.

His gaze flickered towards yours– eyes glistening with unshed tears. He spun his hand, so that your palms pressed against each other, before lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently.

“You know I’ll never let him hurt you again, right?” he asked.

His words sent chills down your spine. You did know, but you weren't sure if you were ready to admit that or not. So instead, you changed the subject.

"Are we almost to your house?"

Luke shrugged. "Not really- I'm closer to Stafford, probably thirty five minutes."

You frowned. "Stafford? That's the opposite direction. I thought you said my place was on your way home."

A smirk crept across Luke's face. "That might've been a tiny lie."

"Luke!" you exclaimed.

He let out a laugh. "What? I knew you wouldn't have gotten in the car otherwise. Am I wrong?"

You let out a huff of air, hating the fact that he was right.

As he put the truck in drive and continued down the road, you squeezed his hand back.

#luke alvez imagine #luke alvez #luke alvez fic #luke alvez fanfic #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x reader fic #luke alvez x reader imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #luke alvez angst #luke alvez x reader fanfic #criminal minds x reader imagine

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casiia · 2 years ago

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OMG OMG OKAY HEAR ME OUT. ghostface ethan edging reader after reader receives a phone call from him…!!?!?!?!!!

[ 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ]

pairing .: ethan landry x reader

genre .: suggestive content

word count .: 2k

warnings .: smut-ish (minors dni.), contains scream XI spoilers! scream plotline, threatening, mentions of a knife, soooo unedited, kissing, lingering touches, dry humping

author's note .: maybe planning on making another part to this <3 i have no idea if this is what was actually requested, but i had a lot of fun writing this! took a massive break from writing and i think i’m back, this is probably very ooc and might make no sense but i have zero experience writing thriller things like this idk. dialogue was used from the 1995 (or 7) scream movie. accepting constructive criticism, reblogs are appreciated.

“hey, pretty girl.”

pulling the phone away from your ear confused, you checked your screen to see who was on the other line, frowning slightly when you saw no contact.

“who is this?” setting the home phone back on it’s stand, you let the call ring out on speaker, turning your attention back to the stove.

“there’s no fun in telling you who i am just yet, why don’t you answer a few of my questions first.”

rolling your eyes, you shook the pot once more before turning to lean against the counter, the buttery smell of popcorn filling your nose. “why should i do that?” speaking over the loud crackles and pops coming from the fire, you moved around the island to grab a bowl.

“it’ll be fun. so tell me, what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“hm, i don’t know.” pouring the yellow kernels into the large bowl, you popped a few pieces into your mouth with a satisfied hum. grabbing the phone and turning it off speaker, you pressed it between your ear and shoulder, balancing the device steadily. “maybe, halloween? think that’s the one where that guy stalks the babysitters.”

“you think it was scary?”

“i guess, anyways. tell me who you are now.” ungraciously falling onto the couch, you picked at the pieces of popcorn that had fallen into your lap, licking your lips with a smile as a salty taste covered your tastebuds.

“can’t do that princess, haven’t finished asking my questions.”

“then hurry up and ask them already.” annoyance showing on your face, you reached across the many throw pillows and grabbed the remote — clicking through the channels with disinterest, before going to browse your downloaded pick of scary movies.

“you got a boyfriend?”

eyebrows raising in shock, you stilled with a quiet laugh. “why, wanna ask me out on a date or what.” you teased the person on the other line, shifting in your seat as you began to ponder who you were really talking to.

“we’ll see, do you have a boyfriend?”

“no.” placing the overflowing bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, you stood to make way to your room, keeping the chunky phone against your ear.

“that’s a shame, such a pretty one you are.”

biting back a smile, you switched the light to your room on; bending down to open your drawer of pajamas, you tossed an oversized shirt onto your neatly made bed. “you gonna be this charming to me when i find out who you are?”

“maybe.”

“got anymore questions for me, or can i start guessing who this is.” unbuttoning your jeans, you kicked the pair of uncomfortable pants off . turning the speaker back on, you tossed the phone onto your pillow, pulling your tank top up and over your head before slipping on the big shirt.

“go ahead, you’re giving me such a good show.”

“what are you talking about?” picking up the dirty clothes that you had left stranded on your floor, you walked into your connecting bathroom, putting the clothes in your dirty hamper.

“hm, that’s a nice shirt you’re wearing. where did you get it?”

eyes widening in surprise, you slowly turned back into your bedroom, your knuckles white as you gripped onto the phone. “can you see me?”

“ah what a good girl! putting her brain to some use.”

“if you can really see me, how many fingers am i holding up?” walking up to your window, you peered outside trying to get a good look. sticking out your middle finger, you squinted as you stared into your dark backyard, trying to piece together unfamiliar shadows.

“funny, one.”

“shit.” shutting your blinds in hurry, you stumbled out of your room, quickly heading back downstairs. “who is this, jason?”

“from econ? no.”

“you better leave me alone, my boyfriend is coming over soon.” closing the blinds to your backdoor, you shuffled into your kitchen, grabbing a large knife. “he’s strong, s-so get out of here!”

“i thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?”

“w-well i lied!” locking your front door, you turned down all the lights, curling into a corner, knife in hand. your breath was ragged, eyes darting from place to place in worry. “tell me who you are before i call the police.”

“quit being such a brat, the fun isn’t over just yet.”

chewing on your lip, tears lined your waterline as fear overtook you. anxiety creeping up your throat with every shallow breath you took. “this isn’t funny.” you flinched at the loud noise emitting from the buzzing device, a staticy and robotic laugh filling the eerily quiet apartment.

“you look so cute with that knife. what’re you gonna do, stab me?”

“show yourself, you coward!” standing from the hardwood floor, you paced around the kitchen, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill down your pink cheeks. frustration and anger burning in your chest, when the anonymous caller laughed again.

“careful what you wish for.”

a loud ringing echoes from the phone as the call ends, the wind whistling against the windows has you whipping your head to each sudden noise. pressing yourself up against the wall, the knife that you held a safe distance away from you.

“where are you, motherfucker.” your voice just barely above a whisper, you jumped at the sound of your doorknob rattling – a fist loudly knocking against the wood of your door. “go away! i’ll kill you.”

“baby? hey, what’s going on it’s just me.”

“ethan?” letting the knife drop to the marble of your kitchen countertop, you winced at the loud clang. running to your front door, you stood on the tip of your toes, peering through the peak hole to see your boyfriend awkwardly standing in front of you. twisting the lock, you threw the door open before jumping into his arms.

“what’s wrong? did you forget i was coming or something?” pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, he circles his arms around your waist with a hesitant laugh.

“no- no. this guy just prank called me, i was so scared.” pressing your face into his shoulder, you gripped onto his coat, muffled sobs racking from your chest. “he saw me, ethan.”

“no, pretty, don't cry. i’m sure it was just some sick joke.” gently pulling you away from his tearstained coat, he cradled your face in the palm of his hand; wiping your wet cheeks, he pressed a light kiss in between your brows. “relax, no one’s gonna hurt you as long as i’m here.”

“can you stay the night?” leaning into his touch, you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. “don’t think i can sleep without you.” twirling his thick brown hair between your fingers, you sighed heavily, relaxing in his embrace.

“of course, i was planning on it anyway.” adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he squeezed your hip once nudging you inside your apartment. “don’t want these creeps lookin at you, especially without pants.”

shaking your head with a smile, you wiped your remaining tears with the back of your hand, sniffling quietly and shuffling back inside. “lock it, please.” grabbing his bag, you tossed it onto the sofa, the sound of a lock clicking easing your shoulders.

“you were really scared, huh.” ethan laughs at the abandon knife on the counter, picking it up and putting it back with the other collection of cooking knives.

“i was, that was the creepiest interaction i’ve ever had.” dragging your hands down your face with a huff, you walked over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your face into his back. “y’should jus’ move in with me.” your words muffled, you felt his chest rise and fall with another laugh.

“i was the one that made that request, i’d rather live with you than chad.” he loosened your arms around him, dragging you around his body so you were caged between him and the counter. “i am really sorry you had to go through that, did you call the police?”

“no, i think there are worse things to worry about. it was just some silly call.” rubbing your arms nervously, you took a deep breath, reassuring yourself of any crazy thoughts. “i don’t want to talk about it anymore, how was your day?” pulling yourself up on the countertop, you shuddered lightly when your bare skin met with the cool marble.

“uninteresting, just caught up in some classes, i missed you a lot.” moving in between your legs, he dragged his fingers against your thigh, teasing the hem of your shirt higher up your leg. “is this mine? i’ve been looking for it.” inching his hand up your shirt, he squeezed your hip, his thumb trailing along the lace of your panties.

“mhm, it’s comfortable. didn’t think you’d miss it much.” sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest, drawing little circles into his shirt. looking up at him through your lashes, you licked your lips, your fingers settling at the base of his neck. “ethan…”

“what is it, baby.” bringing his other hand up to your cheek, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “want me to stop?” moving to retract his hand that found it’s way under your shirt, he looked down at you with worried eyes, scared that he had read the room wrong.

“no! no. i want you, ethan.” grabbing his wrist, you bring his large hands back to your body, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his collarbone. “do you— do you want me?” guiding his hands under your shirt, you whined softly, his cold fingers grazing your stomach.

“oh fuck.” mumbling under his breath, he pressed his lips to your forehead, glancing down at your exposed panties; pretty and pink, decorated with a white lace, a small bow stitched right in the center.

“gonna answer my question?” trailing along the seam of his belt, you played with the hem of his shirt, your lips lingering on his skin with every word you mumbled.

“i do, baby. let me make you feel good.” rubbing up and down your sides with a light chuckle, he gently patted your waist. “you deserve it, such a good girl.”

tugging at the collar of his thick coat, you pressed your soft lips to his with a happy hum, your fingers entangling in his curly brunette hair. swiping your tongue against his bottom lip, you brought your hand up to cup his jaw, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

ethan grinned against your lips, snaking his arm around your waist to grind his clothed crotch against your damp panties. “s’wet for me, haven’t even done anything to you yet.”

gasping into his mouth at the roll of his hips, you squeezed your thighs around his waist yearning for more. “please, ethan.” your words blurred together as you continued to kiss him – you tugged lightly on his hair with a mewl, the bulge showing in his jeans nudging your clit.

“so needy, can’t wait–”

a deafening ring cuts him off, his phone softly buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. letting your hands fall from his hair and atop of his shoulders, you shook your head with concern. “ethan, no.”

“relax, i bet it’s just chad.” giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the red phone. tilting his screen, he showed you the number on the screen, one that he had not previously saved. “recognize it?”

“no, i wasn’t shown a number.” anxiously playing with your fingers, you kept your eyes glued to the vibrating phone. “put it on speaker.”

nodding at your request, you watched him accept the call, letting it play out loud. “who is this?”

“hello, ethan. what’s your favorite scary movie?”

🏷 .: @loaksbitch @sullybby @vmptears my stinky ethan landry apologist

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