#im just happy i can finally draw somewhat of a hand

[live-laugh-love-the-archivists]

Someone help. I need desperate help with drawing hands

...

"It doesn't even look like a hand"

I know I'm trying ok 😭

Does anyone have an idea of making this sketch more accurate? I'm not too sure what to do on making it more, uh hand like, yk?

I'm gonna regret posting this ain't I

Probably

Edit: suddgested by some people on discord to make the wrist thinner

[thedevilrisen]

Prompt Poll - Two

Quinn Hughes x Y/N

Prompt: "When you said you were sick I thought you meant a cold, not the freaking plague."

Description: Y/N got sick, Quinn wasn't expecting it to be this bad.

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Would be greatly appreciated if you could reblog. I love talking to people so say 'Hi' if you want to. Feel Free to send in requests as well. I'm happy to write for most hockey players.

Warnings: Sickness, swearing and thats proabably it! Please tell me if anything else should be added.

-Sincerely thedevilrisen.

-:-

Groaning and half-heartedly, blindly grappling in the general direction of the repeated vibrations of your phone against the wood side table, roused unceremoniously from your self-accredited worlds worst sleep. When you finally came in contact and stupidly turned the offending device straight into your face, hissing as the bright light kissed your sleep and sickness rumpled features, you vaguely registered a text from your boyfriend Quinn.

Hey Honey, how's the cold coming along?

Getting worse to be completely honest with you.

Aw no! Lucky I'll be home in a few hours to take care of you! We are just about to board the plane so I thought best to touch base. x

Thank you Quinny, have a safe flight. :) Read 9:58pm

Quinn POV:

Sneaking in quietly I made sure to gently close the door and be careful not to kick my shoes off into the wall as to make as little noise as possible.

My attempts were in vain however as I heard a very aggressive and horse-sounding coughing fit coming from the bedroom. Walking along the hallway and noticing the soft light bedside lamp flowing out of the room from under the door.

I opened the door to be met with what should be considered a biological war hazard. There was a ungodly mound of tissues on what was normally Quinn's side of the bed, a few soup bowls and coffee mugs stacked precariously on the side tables and a snuffling, moving lump with messy brown hair splayed in a way that would make Cousin It jealous.

"Quinn?" you rasped out.

"Jesus. When you said you were sick I thought you meant a cold, not the freaking plague!"

"I did sa-" you started to mumble but were cut off by a small coughing fit. "I did say before you boarded the plane that I was pretty sure it was getting worse."

"No shit!" the young man laughed scruffing a hand down his face.

"he-" you sneezed "hey, enough of the sass mister, im sick. take care of me."

"Nooo, your all yicky!" he playfully groaned

"But you promised!" you pouted and flopped back down into your warm fuzzy bed.

"I did, my love." he walked around your side of the bed and crouched to your height. "And I always keep my promises."

Kissing your head he walked into the ensuite and flicked on the light. He had ruffled through the mirror cabinets and pulled out the eucalyptus scent drops. Intent on putting some in the little over hot bath he was drawing for you.

When there was enough water in the tub he moved back into the bedroom to rouse you and bring you to the warm and hopefully somewhat rejuvenating bath.

"Honey, can you come hop in the tub?" he asked gently, rubbing your shoulders through his sleep warmed shirt you had obviously stolen earlier.

"mm-comfy." you whined grabbing onto your pillow and burrowing into it.

"Come on honey, it will make you feel better." he pleaded.

"No. Bed." you stated petulantly, to which Quinn sighed and reached in under the warm covers and dragged you protesting form into his arms.

Once he had wrangled you out of bed and into his grasp he soothed your aggressive mumbling and walked into the bathroom being careful not to bang your ankles on the door frame.

Placing you down on your feet he helped you strip out of your clothes and settle down into the warm tub. The sigh of relief you let out after you settled into the tub was worth having to drag you out of the bed for.

Placing a fleeting kiss on your forehead and a stern order not to fall asleep and drown he wandered out of the room leaving the door ajar so he could hear you if you called. Intent on making some tomato soup for you he pulled a saucepan out of the cupboard, found the can he required and and pulled a can opener out of the drawers. Cracking open the can and pouring the viscose red liquid into the heated saucepan, he stirred it and left it to simmer.

-

"How are you going honey?" he asked as he walked back into the bathroom.

"Mm, the eucalyptus helps with the headache." you mumbled, "but i'm getting pruny.

Quinn let out a hearty chuckle as you raised your hand for him to see your wrinkled skin.

"You ready to get out then?" he proposed, still leaning on the door frame.

"Yeah, I think so," you replied, opening your eyes and blearily looking at him.

"Alrighty, I'll get you some clothes." he smiled and wandered out of the room.

Unbeknownst to you he had cleaned the bedroom up, picked up the tissues, bowls and cups, changed the bed linen, placed a bed tray with fresh water, tea and the soup next to where he had pulled back the fresh sheets and stacked the pillows so you could watch the TV which he had turned on for you.

So when you waddled out, swaddled in a giant soft fluffy towel you were nearly brought to tears.

"Quinny," you sniffled wetly.

"Yeah honey?" he questioned walking from the closet with a pair of his sweat pants and a T-Shirt for you. He was startled when you walked over and wrapped him and a hug.

"Thank you." you mumbled into his shirt.

Smiling he kissed your head and said, "Your very welcome."

"What do you want to watch?" he asked, handing you the clothes to change into.

"Hmmm? OH! Gilmore Girls." you said with an evil smile settling into the bed.

"Fine, only because your sick." he conceded settling next to you smiling to himself as you started slurping on your soup, completely enamoured with the show in front of you.

-:-

I'm sorry if its bad! I myself have been sick, swamped with school and family stuff! However it's out! Please enjoy and don't be afraid to come into my inbox to have a chat!

[theendofuno]

haiii :3

i was making some weapons gijinkas b4 the shitstorm and i was finally able to chill and finish them so here's Muramasa-san (plus Death Star)

i already wrote about them like theyre my ocs HEHEHE so i'll put it under crop (along w the comic translation cuz honestly im not hand writing it again)!

tl:

->box

"oh, damn" -> lil cut

*nom*

"u..."

"did u... just licked my hand...?"

"ofc lol"

alr for Muramasa-san now!

he's an immortal dragon-like folk, he once belong to Reina's family but now he's owned by Uno, who he really enjoys whenever Uno is not BAWLING HIS EYES OUT and making Mura deaf, he's pretty much an air head and barely pays attention to anything or anyone, he has little to no common sense when it comes to human ways to behavior around eachother since he spent most of his time completely alone

he can see dead things and he really loves spending time and talk with the dead animals (the humans can mind their business ig), he's also attracted by blood but he pretty much can ignore the feeling cuz it's not something life threatening the same way its for Uno, its just. tasty. nomnom

he lives completely isolated and most of the other gijinkas (i'll post them whenever i draw them arrgghh for now they only have rlly sketchy refs) don't really care about him, only Soluna, Death Star and Deus Ex Machina are somewhat "friends" with Mura

being naked is a state of mind so. he's naked 99% of his time and he won't dress up if there's visits..only if they ask for it cuz yeah he doesn't take clues. stupid or happy? maybe both!

oh also uuuuuuh death star has a major crush on him. he'll prolly never notice tho

[angelguk]

what happens in this section is entirely a result of what guys voted please do not! come for my head in my inbox im begging. very sad in general like Angst with a capital A with a sprinkle of despair and pain. listen to mess it up by gracie abrams. roughly 2k.

(titled — out of line)

You thought Lucas would help, the warmth of his body a distraction from your aching heart, but he didn’t. Not the way you needed him to. He was sweet enough, made you giggle endlessly before finding his place between your thighs. But even with his tongue on your clit, your (now usually sober) mind still lingered on Jeongguk, his memory a stain on your soul. It didn’t help when you spotted him with a girl hanging off his arm, her bright eyes stuck on his face, soaking him in like the earth does the sun. You didn’t know her name – Chayoung took the liberty of whispering it to you after your biology lab. She was Hyeri, a sophomore with a delicate laugh and graceful disposition. That vile vindictive black thing that now inhabited your chest swelled, brain already comparing the differences between you and her. Your clumsiness suddenly felt like a curse, even though Jeongguk had countlessly said he loved you for it (or did he say that just to ease your worries?). Insecurities spring forth like weeds and you don’t have the capacity to keep the careful garden of your heart tended. 

They take over slowly, your eyes stinging whenever you see them huddled together in the quad. Bitter tears blinked back, your blinkered senses overlooking how Jeongguk’s quiet gaze followed your figure whenever you turned your back to him, even with Yoona yapping at his ears. 

Perhaps the despondency that clung to your bones is what led you here, face planted in the musky scent of Namjoon’s sheets, your heart throbbing funny. 

“Can you even breathe?” He questions. The timbre of his voice washes over you, familiar and somewhat reassuring. You twist upright to face him, eyes squeezing tight when the bright fluorescent lights in his room assaults your vision. 

“I was hoping my heart would give up if I held it in long enough.”

Namjoon stills, brown eyes flitting over you. He coughs like he’s working through various sets of words before he decides what’s most suitable. “And then what? I get framed for murder when they find your body here?”

You laugh, and it hurts. “Maybe. My body is very portable though, did you consider first burying me in the backyard?”

“Rookie mistake,” Namjoon returns. He rises to fetch the mugs of tea sitting idle on a stool he’d dragged from the corner of his room. “The sniffer dogs would fly straight to that location. Also, I’d have to dig a hole big enough to fit your head in.”

“And why would the dogs find me immediately?” You say, shuffling upright, palms ready to receive the tepid heat that will seep through the ceramic the moment the cup settles in your hand.

“Your perfume,” Namjoon says. He hands you the mug, heat fulfilling its chosen purpose, the scent of gentle jasmine wafting to your nose.

You pout then, glancing at him. “My perfume?”

“It’s distinct. Violet, right? Maybe vanilla too?” Namjoon says it easily, sinking beside you, utterly unaware of the ticking in your brain. Your gaze falters then, shifting to his broad shoulder and thick biceps. The ivy shirt he’s got on barely contains all that muscle in, fabric stretched thin. 

You take a sip of your tea, and despite the period Namjoon gave it to cool it still scalds your tongue. 

“Why do you know what fragrance I wear?” It comes out accusatory, but Namjoon handles it well, laughing low.

“You’ve had the same one since high-school, I think. And I remember you telling me.”

The fingers around your cup squeeze tight, your brain unlocking a moment you’d forgotten in the wake of brighter ones. A quiet afternoon at the back of your high-school, Namjoon towering over you, his nose trailing the hollow of your neck, a stray comment about how you smelled good washing over you. It was followed by a flustered younger version of you deflecting, heart pounding wild when Namjoon drew back to look at you as you rattled off the different sillages that made up your favourite perfume. He’d laughed, low like did just now, before calling you cute and pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Oh,” you finally murmur. “I remember now.”

You were actually going to change it after your break-up with him, but then Jeongguk had mentioned how much he’d liked it and the bottle had stayed.

Namjoon hums, his gaze slow as it shifts around the room. It’s a space that screams of him, light wood tones and plants breaking from the pristine white walls. Space carved for nature, a grounding sensation living within these four walls – something that seems to live inside of Namjoon too.

“How are you?” He suddenly asks, turning slowly to measure your features. 

You blink hard, only realising then that you’d been staring at his face for a second too long. “F-fine. I’m okay. Just busy, y’know. Finals coming up, planning events; the usual.”

“I know,” Namjoon says with a ginger smile. “But that’s not what I’m asking. How are you? With Jeongguk and everything.”

“Oh.” You can’t answer that, his unexpected brazenness shocking your system. The smile on his lips fades, a solemnness in the brown of his eyes. His next words are earnest, and they settle in the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N, I know you didn’t just come here to chat for no reason. We can talk about Jeongguk, that’s okay.”

“N-no, we don’t need it. We’re over. It’s been two months already. We’re seeing other people and I don’t really want to discuss one of my exes with another one. And maybe I did just come to see you,” you tack on an empty laugh at the end, hoping Namjoon doesn’t read right through you.

But he does. Like a part of you hoped he would.

“I’m your friend, you know. We had something but nothing like what you and Jeongguk have. Two months isn’t going to make a lifetime disappear. It’s okay if you still feel bad.”

That’s what cracks you, a well-aimed hammer knocking your walls right down. You bite your lip hard, fingertips pinching the ceramic in your grasp, and swallow the tears looming in your throat with a choked laugh. 

“I’m fine, Namjoon. I feel a little like shit but I’m working on it. And Lucas is a great guy–”

“But he’s not Jeongguk.” The sentence feels heavy as if it carries the weight of many hearts on it. But it’s also a line you were thinking about earlier, even with Lucas pressed against you.

“That’s not what I would say–”

“But it’s what you were thinking,” Namjoon cuts. Maybe there’s a peephole in your head that only Namjoon has access to. “And that’s fine. It sucks for Lucas, though. But you shouldn’t feel bad for thinking that way. Especially when you know how special Jeongguk is to you.”

Special. The word is bright, glimmering like Jeongguk’s eyes do. 

“I-I just–it just–I don’t know.” The tears you’d attempted to seal inside burst, slipping down your cheeks quiet. Namjoon pry's the mug from your hand, replaces its warmth with his own, and for a split second things feel bearable. 

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, a calloused palm on your damp cheek, his steadiness clearing away the gloomy skies in your head. But he doesn’t tell you to stop crying, doesn’t whisper that it’ll be okay. He just tugs you closer, rests your splinting head on his wide chest, and soaks up the tears on your face with his shirt. Like the earth does for the pouring heavens. 

You eventually hiccup the despair down, finding the words to explain to Namjoon what you were feeling in between the moments where breathing didn’t feel like a race. He takes the news of Jeongguk kissing somebody days after your break-up with wide eyes, his eyebrows drawing together. And then comes the second girl, you don’t even know her name but it still cleaves something out of you. And finally, Hyeri. Her name is a lament.

“And it sucks because he looks happy with her and I still want him to be happy because I still love him. I love him so much it hurts.”

Namjoon cocks his head then, his wide palm sliding down your back. “You think Jeongguk looks happy?”

“Yes?” But it’s a question, your upward gaze on his face imploring.

Namjoon shakes his head instead. You don’t hear it, the following words a deep muffled murmur, “Both of you are idiots.” But you see the twinkle in his eyes and it makes your back straighten.  

You want to pester but Namjoon pulls you closer, and you lose yourself in the feeling of him, before a question can register on your tongue. His arms are huge, like sturdy branches defying the blistering gales of your heart. He lets you cry for a little longer, listening intently to the continuing spew of words from your lips, until the storm quiets into a breeze. 

“Okay?” Namjoon asks.

You stick your head further into his chest, breathe him in deep. “Okay.”

When he shifts away your skin freezes, but then you realise he’s reaching for a blanket. He swathes it around you fondly, pulling you in for a swift hug before falling out of your reach once more. 

“Now, I think we both need a moment to process that.” He’s talking about but you’re not listening, your eyes on his face, gaze gently trailing the curve of his lips. “I also think we need food before we start unpacking the mess you’re in–”

You swallow the sentence with your lips, salt singeing the corners of your mouth. But your movements are not reciprocated, Namjoon’s mouth is still under yours. The soft hand on your neck guiding you away is what pulls you back, right out of that strange dark desperate ocean that held you. 

“Y/N–”

“Sorry, shit–shit, I shouldn’t have done that.” But there’s no use now, you can’t take it back. Namjoon is looking at you with those eyes, the ones that feel like pity. His sympathy suddenly makes you feel sick, and you wish the ceiling would give away and shatter your head. “I should go.” 

He tries to stop you, firm but gentle with his words and hands. But you’re a wild storm again and nothing can stop you from snatching your butterfly tote bag from the floor of his room and fleeing. The black thing that had been subdued for a moment reemergence with vengeance the second you hit the sidewalks, vision reeling. How could you do that? To Namjoon? To the stable friendship you'd created? But he felt too warm, too caring, too much of everything that you longing for and that Lucas could never give you.

Just a reminder of the swimmer's name as you skidding to a halt, the thump in your chest vicious. Maybe Jeongguk was right. Constantly painting yourself the victim while actively hurting the ones around you. Maybe you should have never let him kiss you again on that rooftop. Maybe you should have never tried to love him.

—

It’s silent in your head when you get back to your apartment. Sieun is home, finally back from her trip to her boyfriend’s parents place, so you’re not surprised to hear the soft hum of laughter filtering through the house. You don’t expect to find Chayoung there though. 

They’re huddling in the kitchen, drifting out cheery greetings when you trudge it, only to fall silent when you mumble back a hollow response. A gentle song floating from the radio fills the empty space, three bodies navigating something tense.  

“Were you with Lucas?” Sieun eventually pokes. She’s not a big fan of him. She’s not a big fan of the current break-up between you and Jeongguk either. She’s going to hate you for what you’re about to tell her.

“No,” you mumble. There are twenty notifications flashing across your phone screen, all from Namjoon. You feel sick, and you might cry again.

“Well? What’s with the long face?” Chayoung adds. 

You take a deep breath, gripping the marble counter tight before twisting around. Better to rip it off all at once right? And there’s no way you could hold this inside of you, not when there is barely any room for your broken heart.

“I kissed Namjoon.”

“WHAT?” Sieun’s jaw slams into the ground and Chayoung freezes beside her, like her joints have suddenly been welded together. They stare at you for long you might have grown a second head during it. And then the questions come, a torrent erupting. You blank for a second, and then the guilt crawls up your spine. It may only be thirteen past five in the afternoon but you definitely need a drink.

[canonobsessions]

Hey there and welcome to tumblr!! i’m a huge simp for Julian lol im so happy to see somebody writing for TPB! <3 i was wondering if you could write something involving Julian and a cudding -> confession -> sex sort of situation with a female reader?

a/n: I'm so sorry for this late response! I'd be so happy to!

Fandom: Trailer Park Boys

Word Count: 4,243

Scenario: Julian and Reader have an impromptu cuddling session that results in a confession and subsequently, a steamy encounter.

Julian didn't know how it got to this point, but he wasn't about to complain. Sometimes everything just fell into place, so when you arrived that night at his trailer on a cold, dark winter's night he rolled with it. It was just a mishap, your car breaking down before you were able to get home. Like many people, you came to him with your problem.

Unlike with some other people, Julian was happy to help you out. He didn't hesitate when he stepped aside and let you track slushy snow into his home. It didn't even cross his mind until he was stepping in it himself. Even then, it only made him more aware of your state of dress.

You definitely hadn't intended to be out long, with your short sleeves on and little to no protective clothing. You looked frigid and he had just the remedy for it.

So, you wound up on his couch, wrapped up and sharing a blanket with him while watching some schlocky action film. Nothing he was actually paying attention too. How could he be with you in the room, taking a small sip of his Rum and Coke with that pretty smile on your face.

It was almost like a dream.

"Julian, I really can't thank you enough again. I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this," He'd just gotten ready to go to bed when you'd arrived, but even then, it wasn't any kind of a bother with you around. But, he had to play it cool as he always did.

"It's no trouble, [Y/N]. Stop worrying about it," He reassured you for the fifth time, taking the moment to wrap his arm around your shoulder and squeeze reassuringly. "You couldn't help it, probably the cold messing with your car. I'll get some of the guys to help get it fixed in the morning,"

And there was that damn smile that roped him in from the moment he'd met you. At first he'd just thought he was drunk, but he'd come to learn you were as capable and friendly as you were pretty. You were one of the few people who came around the Trailer Park and helped him and his friends out on occasion.

The situation had gotten twisted up to where it almost seemed awkward to pursue you with how close you'd gotten to Bubbles and Ricky as well. That being said, he was also always in a relationship when you weren't. Nothing really ever seemed right until now.

Now. He had to find the courage to say it, but there was that pitch of anxiety in his stomach, the one he thought he could stamp out in almost any occasion, but you were special. He didn't want to mess this up.

"You're really too good to me, Jules," A damn shiver nearly crawled up his spine when you said that. That and the way you were shaking just sent a small thrill through him.

Were you still cold or were you nervous to have his arm around you? With the way you leaned into him further, it couldn't have just been nerves. You did still feel chilly, so he gently rubbed your upper arm. He wasn't just feeling your soft skin under his rough finger tips. This was just part of helping you.

Man was that stupid, he was acting like he hadn't had his fair share of pretty girls over. But, you were more than pretty, you were beautiful. Classy and sweet.

"Just doing what any good friend would," The word friend had a near sour note to it, not from leaving his mouth, but it just rang oddly. He wasn't malicious about it. It just wasn't right.

"Yeah, right!" There was an awkward inflection in your tone, but he wasn't going to push it. You were probably just more comfortable with being friends after all.

"Damn, my feet are still freezing," You'd complain quietly after a brief silence and Julian reacts without thinking about it.

"C'mere," He reached down to your ankle and grabbed it, gently coaxing your feet up onto the couch. You adjusted to the hold folding your legs off to the side. Your [E/C] eyes are filled with curiosity. He offered a smile before drawing your feet into his stomach, where he was more than warm enough to help bring you up to temp.

"When I was a kid, my grandmother would do this for me when I'd come inside after playing in the snow," He recalled the late nights he spent watching old movies with his grandmother, eating snacks and keeping warm and cuddled up together. Of course, she'd been plenty warmed up from the brandy she'd consumed time and time again.

That sweet smile of yours was back once again, but accompanying it was a pretty blush that colored your face perfectly. He couldn't help his mind when it wandered to a less wholesome thought. What would you look like, red and panting under him? What were other ways you of all people could let him warm you up?

"That's really sweet. She must have been one hell of a lady to raise someone as gentlemanly as you, Jules," You might have been somewhat teasing, but he felt warm from the compliment. She had been as good of a role-model as she could be, doing everything she could for not only him, but for Bubbles as well.

"Thanks, [Y/N]," He patted your blanket covered calf with his hand and left it there for a moment, idly tracing his thumb over your muscle in a soothing manner.

Things got quiet again as you both sat there, watching the screen with little interest in what was going on. Julian was far more focused on how good it felt to have you curled against him and to feel your legs move. You were warming up and you were tantalizingly soft. It was driving him crazy, but he was being good.

You didn't drink much of his Rum and Coke, but you did have a sip or two, just to stave off any lingering cold.

"Julian, can I ask you something?" You'd knocked him out of his thoughts with that soft inquiry. He looked at you and felt his stomach flip, seeing your uncertain look.

"Anything," It was one small word, but he put a lot of feeling behind it. It sat heavy between the two of you for a heart-beat. Time really seemed to slow as he felt the way you were starting to shake again. The way you bit your lip and fluttered your lashes, looking at him with those eyes. It really felt like you told him everything he needed to know through body language alone.

Julian leaned in, his dark eyes searching yours for a solid answer, something more than just the way your body was calling out for him.

"Do you like me, just as a friend?" He wanted to kiss the uncertainty right out of your mouth and swallow it. How could someone as beautiful and amazing as you be so unsure of what you did to him?

"More than that," His words came out softer, rougher as he tried to reign himself in. "Does that make you uncomfortable?" He didn't want to scare you. You didn't have a ride home, it was too cold to walk off. He didn't want to misread what was going on. He was playing it safe.

"No!" It was like you were yelping, like he’d hit you in the stomach with that simple question. It gave away how eager you were and Julian couldn’t help but chuckle when you clasped your dainty hand over your mouth. “No, I’m sorry. You could never make me uncomfortable. Well, not like that,” The words fell from your lips like snow from the sky. “So I do make you uncomfortable?” He was teasing you now, relishing in the fact that you’d made that first move. You’d been the one to bravely ask him just what he thought of you and it made you flustered. You weren’t uncomfortable and you didn’t feel unsafe. Good. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it otherwise. “I like you too, Julian,” Finally, you’d admit it yourself. You’d put it out there that you were interested in him and he was interested in you. It was like that last wall came tumbling down. It made you look bare and vulnerable and unsure. That just made him want to scoop you into his arms and show you just how sure he was of the situation. “So, what now,” You’d asked, looking to him for guidance. Those big, beautiful eyes drew him right in. He wasn’t going to answer you with flowery words, he was going to show you. Julian made slow moves, roping you into him with room enough to say no if you wanted to. His large palms felt right at home, gripping your thighs and tugging you to where you were seated firmly on his lap. That little gasp that left your lips only made him drag you down harder onto him, letting you feel just how much he liked you. “What do you want, [Y/N]?” He felt the way you were shaking against him, the way you tilted your pelvis to align yourself with him. As if he were a virgin again, you had him shuddering with his restraint. He palmed your thighs, rubbing them soothingly. “I-I mean, I want you, Julian, b-but not just, ah,” He couldn’t help but to rock himself up into your core when you admitted you wanted him. There was no missing that you wanted more though, so he stilled, his dark eyes searching yours again, wondering what had you hesitating. “I don’t just want to be a fling,” Of course you didn’t, he didn’t either. But, it wasn’t like he had a particularly strong history of long, stable relationships. He had more one-night stands than he did real girlfriends he’d kept in his life. How could you not see you were different than those other girls was lost on him. Both of his hands traced up from your thighs, jumping to smooth up your arms and to your neck. He savored touching you while he thought about just how deeply he wanted to reassure you. He traced a path up to your neck, where he threaded his fingers into your hair, his thumb resting on the slope of your jawline. You wouldn’t be able to look away if you tried. He met your gaze, dark brows set into a serious furrow. “Never. [Y/N], you could never be just a fling for me,” He admitted, his voice hoarse with desire and love. He didn’t want to give you a chance to respond. Gently, he pulled you into a solid, warm kiss. Your lips molded to his perfectly. Just slightly wet from how you’d licked it only moments before. He poured his passion and love for you into it, hoping to smooth out any worries that he wasn’t dead serious on how much he liked you. Julian pulled a weak moan from you when he pulled away, your lips sticking together for a split second, sending a firework of pleasure down his spine. He wanted to devour you. His big hand cradled your head as he went in for another kiss, mouth opening just slightly to mouth your lips, to trace your tongue with his own. Just the coupling, the breathy noises and moans he pulled from you were drowning out the sound of gunfire from the busted up looking television just behind you. Nothing could distract him from how perfect you felt seated on top of him. How delicious your lips were, how easily you opened up to him. How many times had he dreamt of this? Could he even count the times you’d been at the forethought of his mind when he’d jerked himself off in the shower? Now that you’d both been honest, he could make those wild

fantasies real. “Julian,” Your voice was quaking, full of lust and need that he felt hit right through him. If that wasn’t enough to tell him you needed more, the way you were grinding on his hard cock was. A near growl left the dark haired man as he greedily grasped your ass, hoisting you further onto him. He stood up with ease, the blanket covering the two of you quickly forgotten. Any previous cold having been ripped away by red-hot need. That squeal had him chuckling between your dainty kisses. He easily brought you down that narrow hall, taking just a moment to push you against the paneling to indulge in tasting you. His tongue was more than eager to tangle with your own, the sloppy noises louder still now that you were away from the TV. Back on the move, Julian kicked open his bedroom door, relishing in the way you giggled at how forceful he’d been. Instead of throwing you onto the bed, he moved all the way to it’s edge, lowering you down onto it like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held in his hands. “God, you are beautiful, [Y/N],” Julian rasped as he admired how perfect you looked on his bed, flushed and lips swollen from how excited the two of you had been to do something as simple as kiss. “Julian,” Your voice took a serious tone, your own brows ticking down as you reached up with your now warm hands, letting them rest on his face, thumb tracing along the sharply trimmed line of his beard. “Julian, you’re beautiful too, so handsome. I can’t believe you want me too,” You were gushing, about him of all people. Shaking his head, Julian took your hands into his own, placing a kiss on your knuckles. He allowed himself the chance to really look at you, just as you were. His heart filled with affection for you. For just the way you spoke to him, marveling at him. “I can’t believe an angel like you would want anything to do with a man like me,” Julian’s voice was low and dark as he leaned back in, dying for another taste of you. This time, things went further, his hands roaming eagerly while your mouths met passionately in their own special patterns. He squeezed your shoulders, massaged down your arms and to your stomach. Testing the waters, his thick fingers peaked under your flimsy shirt, stroking at the soft skin of your belly. The way your muscles flexed and you moaned made him take liberties, inching up your ribs to rub smooth, firm circles there. With your last chance squandered through a needy moan, Julian’s large hands cupped your breasts for a firm squeeze, savoring in a moment he’d imagined just a short time ago. Julian swallowed every needy noise you made as he massaged your breasts, his hips rolling down to meet your needy movements. All at once there was too much fabric in the way. You were pulling at his shirt as soon as he move away, pulling it off of his body and revealing his strong chest and shoulders. Just as excited, Julian hooked his thumbs into your shirt, pulling it up and hooking your bra with it, baring your chest to him in one smooth motion, proving just how experienced he was. God, you were a delicious sight. Your breasts heaving in the dim light of his room. Gravity knew what it was doing and it had Julian speechless. Before long, the temptation was too strong, he dove in for another kiss, smoothing over your shy features with a reassuring kiss. His lips were eager to move, leaving a damp trail of kisses down your jaw and neck. He licked at the dip of your clavicle and relished in the way you shook and gasped. Smirking up at you, dark eyes smoldering with lust, he licked a trail to your right breast, nipping at the flexible flesh he found there. Every little sensation was drawing up for the moment he took your nipple into his hot mouth, tongue lapping as he suckled. He made sure your left breast didn’t go unattended, his thick, rough fingers plucking at the pert tip, rolling the bud in between his fingers, toying with you as he enjoyed himself thoroughly. “God, Julian, your mouth is so warm,” You whimpered, egging him on, your legs curling

around his thighs, beckoning him in for more. But, yet again, there were too many clothes in the way. But, he was a practiced man, he wanted to rile you up. There was an art to getting a woman ready. He switched to the other nipple, leaving the right to tighten and harden in the cold air. Your fingers found his normally tidy black hair, mussing up the styling by tugging him closer. “P-please, stop teasing me,” You needed more, that much was obvious with how insistently you rolled up into him. He could feel just how hot and burning you were at your core, the heat between the two of you felt like it was enough to burn the clothes right from your body. Julian chuckled lowly, shaking his head as he pulled away from your breast. His eyes locked onto yours once more and he gave you a dark smirk. “No need to rush, [Y/N]. You’ll be here until your car is fixed after all,” He teased. You looked so cute when your covered your face, no doubt feeling embarrassed for your needy reaction. He took his time with you. He tasted you, licking a path down your ribs and your stomach, coming to the button of your pants. He didn’t take too long to pull off both them and your panties, revealing your glistening petals to the cool air. You groaned at the sensation and he marveled at just how beautiful you were. Thick fingers traced lazy circles into your inner thighs working their way to your core. He wasn’t ashamed as he looked at your folds, the way your clit was already swollen and eager from the bare minimum frotage. His thumbs swiped along the outer lips, pulling them apart, making way for his broad tongue as he licked a line up from your core to your clit, popping it into his mouth swiftly for a change of pace. You tasted delicious on his tongue, tart and sweet all at once. Greedily, he buried his face into your core, his tongue diving into your soft folds. The tight ring of your cunt was no match for him, the muscle pushed as deep into you as it could, the pad of his thumb taking up stroking your taut pearl in tandem with his thrusts. He listened to your moans as he worked you over, dragging more of your wetness out, preparing you for him. And when it sounded like you were just at your apex, he pulled away. “Oh god, Julian,” It was nearly scolding the way you said his name, but he wasn’t going to leave you wanting for long, deciding to instead unfasten his pants, eagerly ridding himself of his pants and underwear. He stood nude in front of you, taking his large, girthy dick into his hands, stroking it slowly at the debaucherous sight of you, of all people, spread out on his bed, all for him. “Please, I need you, I need you,” That could’ve nearly done him in there, just the way you were pleading for him. Telling him you needed him, and god did he need to be needed. The fact it was just in this way was icing on the cake. Not wasting anymore time, Julian’s hands gripped your hips, lining you up just the way he wanted you. He bent over and steadied himself, peppering your lips with kisses as he guided himself in. Already he could tell you were going to be a tight fit, there was going to be some discomfort, but not for long. It didn’t seem like you minded much, with how eagerly your heels dug into the strong muscle of his back, eager to sink him in. His swollen head pushed into you, sinking deeper with one slow push that had him groaning, his head tilting back as he savored the squeeze around his manhood. His free hand massaged lazily at your stomach as he sunk in. You let out the most tantalizing little grunts and moans, soft hisses as your body adjusted to take his massive size. “Soo big,” You whimpered. God if only you knew what you did to him with that tender little voice. He wanted to bury his cock in you forever and stay there until the day he died. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the last few inches in, steadily massaging you while holding himself back. It wasn’t until you tested the fit by rocking your hips back and forth that he finally allowed himself to take pure pleasure in your body. It wasn’t the

slow pace he’d initially wanted. No, as soon as he was in you, he realized how badly he needed this. For every smile and sweet word, he wanted to set a punishing pace. He wanted to completely fold you in half and hammer his way into your body and show just how badly he needed you. But, for the sake of your health, he set a steady pace. He leaned back to look at the place where your body met his and nearly came right there. “Fuck,” He cursed, staring at the lewd way your cunt was stretched out over his cock. “Sit up, just a bit, fuckin’ look at it,” He coaxed you into sitting up, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck again. Your eyes almost glazed over with how eagerly you looked at your coupling. Your plump, tantalizing lip was gnawed at between your pearly whites. Julian drew back his cock with a hiss, his head rolling back again, only to snap to attention, watching the show as he sunk back into your hot, silky insides. “You’re taking me so well, [Y/N]. You’re doing so good,” He grunted out praise after praise, his pace rocking steadily now, your wetness coating him and guiding him in with more ease. Finally, it seemed you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer, instead falling back to moan his name. He doubled over, catching himself again, bracing himself on either side of your head. His pace quickened, he could feel the way his balls slapped against your ass, damp from how wet you were. It made degenerate sounds, slapping skin against skin. It drove him up a wall, almost as much as your blissful expression. He burned the memory of you savoring his cock into the back of his mind, before hooking both of his hands under your knees. With his strength, Julian nearly folded you in half, angling you to where his cock would hit your deepest, most sensitive parts. When he found the place that made you sing loudest, he hammered into it. Not to be ignored, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, freeing up a hand so that he could reach between the two of you and work diligently at your little bud. “Oh god, oh god, Jules, Julian, fuck, fuck, fuck! I-I’m gonna cum,” And he could feel it when it started, the way you arched your back, your hips taking a mind of their own, jerking up to meet his deep thrusts. Your walls clenched so tightly around him he could barely pull away, but he managed to keep his pace, drilling into you. “Fuckin’ cum around me, cum around me, [Y/N], just like that, just like that,” He grunted, thrusting so hard he was shaking the bed beneath you, the sound only adding to the symphony of sex. The rush of sticky fluids made him pound that much harder into you. Your crying, writhing form the perfect state for him to hammer at until he felt his own familiar band pulling tight, eventually snapping as pleasure overwhelmed him. He didn’t pull out as his cum filled your tight little body. He empty his balls as deep into you as he could, his pulsing manhood twitching with every stream of the load. He only realized as he began to come down from his high he’d came right against your cervix. He shuddered out another low groan, joining your soft panting in the air. “Fuck, Julian, ah, hah. I love you,” You were unabashed now, looking at him with your dazed look, as if he were a god and not some backwater trailer park boy. “I love you too, so much,” He hung over you, his sweaty forehead coming to rest against yours. He breathed with you, coming down from his high to finally ease out of you, ignoring the mess he made in favor of pulling you into his arms. The air slowly quieted as you both lay there, basking in bliss, warm and naked despite no blanket. It was hard to believe that he’d been uncertain of your feelings for him. Just an hour ago, neither of you had been aware of just how quickly things would go. But, there were no regrets. Only love and a sense of safety.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

seeing someone else.

BISHOP LOSA. MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @encounterthepast: Hello lovely Aurora, can I request angst prompt number 7 with Bishop please, thank you, 💕

❝ prompt: “Don’t you dare to lie to me again”.

❝ request by @arveeee: Hello my dear, so I was thinking, and there is one sentence to that can't go out of my head. So it is: "let me in" with Bishop (I know I'm boring). Well I believe in you, I love you , and I love your writing. Say hello to Arya.

❝ request by anon: Hi, Aurora. I love your writing sm 🥺 I was wondering if I could request an imagine with my man Bishop? I was thinking of something like the reader and him being in kinda like a friends with benefits situation, but she decides to break it offf because she’s really upset. And maybe Bishop doesn’t understand so she eventually explains to him that she wants more out of their relationship and he reassures her they are more and they always have been? Maybe leads to like soft/romantic smut? Thanks so much!

❝ request by @meteora-fc: hello hello! so, that new trailer huh?😵 would absolutely love if you could write me something for a stressed out bishop with the prompts "Stop ignoring me, it’s driving me crazy!" and "Let me help you make it better." Thank you tons!!💖

❝ words: about 1.4k.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

Another tequila shot goes down your throat, ripping it off as you almost smash the small glass on the table. Tossing your head back as you rest your back against the sofa, sitting on the floor, you take a look around you. The gloomy has taken over your house as the night has fallen a couple of hours ago. It's the fourth night you are trying to forget about Bishop and whatever you two had. But you can't dismiss from your mind his caresses —his fingers drawing patterns on your back, his lips touring your neck with delicate kisses as if he was afraid of breaking your skin, his mustache tickling your inner thighs, his raspy voice articulating your name in moans. It's the fourth night miserably failing, remembering the last time you spent together, the way he was holding his back pretending he wasn't sad because you were leaving him.

“Obispo, it's over. Don't make a big deal. We're just friends who occasionally fucks”. You scoffed somewhat annoyed because of him and his interrogation, but how could you tell him you were falling in love with him?

“I ain't making any deal, (Y/N). I just want to know what made you change your mind and keep a wide berth”.

“I'm seeing someone else”.

"Don't you dare to lie to me”. He growled, taking a step closer towards you with the intention of stopping you from picking up and packing the less stuff you had in his house.

“Think what you want”. You replied, rolling your eyes.

The first tear flows in the left corner of your mouth not appreciably at first, but then, some more until finding yourself crying. You miss him so much. You miss watching him sleep peacefully in the small hours, drifting slightly when you caress his cheek using your fingertips. Flexing your knees to your chest, you wrap your arms around trying to contain the loud sobs, hiding your face between them. How have you been so stupid to fall for him like that? The two of you made it clear from the very first moment. Friends with benefits. But after a couple of weeks, you started to notice that he used to push away any other woman that it wasn't you, he didn't spend much time in the clubhouse preferring to do it in your house —cuddling, watching movies, playing poker; kissing every single inch of flesh covering your anatomy.

Reality hit you the moment he murmured something like you're a miracle, thinking you were calmly sleeping between his strong arms and your back stuck to his chest, no distance among your bodies. You knew it was a thing produced by the alcohol running through your veins and it wasn't fair for you to fantasize about the idea he was catching feelings for you. So you just ran away, like a coward.

Some clumsy knocks on the front door of your house bring you back to reality. At first, you try to ignore them. It's not like you're in the mood for visits, knowing that probably it's Leti at the other side of the place, worried because you haven't replied to her text all day. But she insists and insists. And you know how stubborn she can be sometimes. Serving yourself another shot and drinking it in just one gulp, because you're too sober to endure another of her Ted talks about positivism and what he has lost, you stand up on your bare feet. Everything around you spins dizzyingly for a second until you can react, feeling every knock like a hammer hitting your brain.

“I've heard you the fi—”.

Opening the door to receive her, your vocals get frozen as you face Bishop in a deplorable drunk state. Just like you are.

“Let me in”. He barks, not being able to look at your eyes, trying to pass you away to the inside, but you stop him.

“Go home, Obis—”.

“I'm home, shut the fuck up”. He frowns taking a sip from a bottle of whisky you haven't noticed till now. “You think you can kick my fuckin' ass outta your life by saying you're seeing someone else? You think I'm fuckin' stupid, queri— Were you crying…?”

From anger, his tone of voice falls to one lower and lower, as the concern and the worry cover his annoyance completely. Throwing away his drink to somewhere over the grass of your yard, he holds your face onto his palms. His touch causes you to tremble. His warm touch causes you to break into aching sobs, panting as you can't breathe properly. All this time you've been thinking you have missed him, but you didn't have a real idea of how it feels until his fingers have been laid on your wetted skin.

Bishop comes closer to you, touching the tip of your nose with his. You can smell the mixed scent of cigarettes and whisky emanating from his cracked lips, it doesn't bother you, tho. “Don't kiss me, please”.

Until this precise moment, he has loved your begs and pleads to his bones, but now he hates them more than anything he could ever hate in his life. It breaks his heart. He can't deal with your rejection one night more.

“Why…? Why can't I kiss you?” He asks desperately at the edge of his tears. “Please, stop ignoring me, it's driving me crazy. I can't even take care of my own shit without you by my side”.

Your knees feel weak at his words, still believing he only says that because you're just a good lover, the best in the sheets, as he told you once.

“I… I…” You babble nervously, trying to not place your hands on the laps of his leather kutte to finally push him into the needed kiss you've been craving for the last four days. “I love you”.

And why the confession doesn't take him by surprise? Why doesn't he look confused? Why does it seem like he already knew it? Bishop can't help but draw a fleeting grin across his face.

“Do you think I came here, falling into pieces, just because it feels like being in Heaven when I'm deep inside you?” He whispers, clicking his tongue slightly. “I didn't believe you when you told me you were seeing someone else. But the minimal thought I could have about it made me lose the less sanity I have”.

You blink stupefied at his own confession about his feelings. Your fingers tour his abdomen up in slow motion, starting to have some faith in his words.

“Mi amor…” Bishop mumbles in soft giggles shaking his head. “I adore you, mi amor. I don't want anything else than to share my life with you, and only with you”.

He doesn't wait for a signal from you to kiss your lips, he just takes what it's his. And you can't hold back a painful gasp, expelling in it all the sorrow you've been carrying for the last four days being separated from him. Your hands grip his shirt in two fists, pushing him as much closer as the two of you can be, about to melt in the same figure. All this time you have been trying to not love him, to forget him; and you were just delaying the inevitable. You are made for each other, that's a fact. Your lips fit to perfection —your bodies, your hearts.

“Tell me you love me”. You whimper against his mouth, causing him to smile because of your need of making it real by these simple three words.

“Love isn't enough to express what you make me feel”.

Bishop bends down without prior notice to wrap his huge hands on the back of your thighs, urging you to jump onto him and surround his waist with your legs. You haven't forgotten how good his warmth takes over you when he holds you like that, walking inside your house and kicking the door close. Guiding his steps across your place and its hallways, he reaches your dark dorm barely illuminated by a post light outdoors. He lies you down on your bed —a bed that has welcomed you for the last eight months in every kind of state. Drunk, tired, happy.

Now, you're a mix of them. Drunk in tequila, tired of crying, but happy for having him back for the rest of your life.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @badame1240 @regalbanshee @greeneyedblondie44 @phoenixhalliwell @codenamewife

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha

[dracowars]

Hii! So i have seen that your request is currently open! Also that you are kind of new here (i guess? Idrk)! I was wondering if i could request one? The story goes like draco pulls a prank on y/n (any kind really its up to you!) then later on showers her with his love (gift too because we all know he got the ✨ money money ✨ so thats it! (Its very fluffy im sorry) i hope you can do it totally alright if you cant tho!! I hope to see more of your works! God Bless💗

fun and games | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,3k

summary: where draco takes pranking y/n too far

a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! <3 since this is my first ever request i'm a little bit nervous >.< i really hope that you like it and that it lives up to your expectations! i feel honored that you trusted me with your request even though i'm still pretty new on here ♡

warnings: none

universe: harry potter

You can't remember when it started, you only know that it did and that it slowly starts to annoy the hell out of you. Not because you don't understand fun, you really do, but you can't even spend a quiet minute with your boyfriend Draco anymore since he started acting like Fred and George Weasley, always pulling a prank on you with every possibility he got.

Some of those were actually funny and made you laugh, but at some point it just got too much. Every time you are with him now, you expect something to happen. Whether it is that he calls you to him to show you fantastic beasts that do not exist, making you look like a fool while he laughs, or that he hides two of your belongings somewhere around Hogwarts, telling you that it is actually three objects that you then have to search for like crazy. He even gave you Veritaserum once, just to ask you an endless number of questions which you inevitably had to answer. All of that you already went through. But today was somewhat different.

Draco did not pull a prank on you for weeks now, which you can not complain about at all, in fact you are quite happy about it. After his last prank you asked him to finally stop and it seems like he listened to you. Still, something feels very weird.

You haven't seen Draco today, which is rather unusual for you and your relationship because neither of you can last longer than a few hours without the other. You have just come out of your Defense Against the Dark Arts class and look around the hallway, expecting to spot him somewhere, while your classmates walk past you to head to their break. Usually, Draco always picks you up after class so that you can spend time together until your next course. But you don't see him anywhere today.

At the end of the hallway you spot Fred and George trying to sell one of their newest and greatest inventions to a first-year. You shake your head and roll your eyes. These two are probably responsible that your boyfriend had his prank phase, even though he absolutely despises every Weasley. Of course Draco would never admit it, but you think that he copied a lot from them.

"Leave the poor child alone, Weasley's", you tell them while passing them, not wanting to wait longer for Draco to pick you up. Regrettably you shouldn't have opened your mouth because all of a sudden they apparate in front of you out of nowhere, making you flinch and taking a step back. "What, Y/N? Did I hear you correctly?", George says, wiggling his eyebrows at Fred. "You really want to test our new creation?", Fred adds with a smile.

"No, thank you. I've had enough of pranks lately", you assure them with a forced smile. Obviously offended by your statement, the red haired twins cross their arms over their chest, giving you a disapproving look before vanishing again. Shaking your head, you make your way to your common room, hoping to meet Draco on the way there. Unfortunately, that does not happen and you slowly start to have a bad feeling. Where is he?

Once you arrive in the dungeons, you say the password and enter the common room, which is cosy warm in contrast to the cold corridors outside. After all, it's winter; what else should you expect from the temperature? Several Slytherin's buzz around, sitting at the green fire or studying at the tables. But still, no sign of Draco.

You spot Crabbe and Goyle on one of the sofas, who have their eyes focused on you. As soon as they realize that you look back at them, they burst into giggles and look away as if nothing happened. Their weird behavior lets you frown in confusion. Before you can confront them about it, Pansy suddenly appears right in front of you and thus into your field of vision.

"Y/N! We want to go down to the lake in a few minutes. It's frozen solid for the first time this year! Do you want to join us?", she offers, her outfit already perfectly adapted to the cold temperature outside. "Do you know where Draco is?", you blurt out, not answering to her question at all. "No? Why would I?", Pansy responds irritated.

You loudly breathe out. "Nevermind. Enjoy your trip to the lake", you wish her and give her a small smile, then walk past her and towards your room in the girls' dormitories. You don't miss the look that Crabbe and Goyle give you as well as their giggles when you make your way out of the big room though.

While walking your gaze falls on something laying on the ground and you immediately stop in your tracks abruptly. You bend down and pick it up in amazement, a now much bigger smile forming on your lips. In your delicate hand you're now holding a rose petal. Looking in front of you, you notice more rose petals on the floor. They seem to show you the way to your room.

It must have been Draco, he definetely wants to surprise you after a stressful day, you are sure about that. Quickly and with unbelievable enthusiasm you follow the path to your closed door. You imagine how you will open the door and come into your room, there will be a romantic atmosphere with warm candlelight and Draco will lovingly greet you, hug you and kiss you until-

SPLASH

You have just opened the door when suddenly a huge mass of cold water falls down on you, completely soaking you from head to toe. Because of the shock and the sudden coldness surrounding you, you gasp for air. In front of you, you do not see your desired romantic atmosphere or any candles, but only your laughing boyfriend.

"I got you again!", Draco rejoices and praises himself while you can only watch him in shock. You look down at yourself and lift one of your feet out of the puddle beneath you which you are now standing in. Water drips from your hair and your uniform to the floor. Your boyfriend's cheeky laugh echoes in your ears. Slowly your whole body begins to tremble, although you are not sure wheather it comes from the cold water or from the anger boiling up inside of you.

Assuming that you find the successful prank as funny as he does, he keeps laughing, not noticing your anger yet. "Fred and George did the same prank with Weaselbee the other day, so I had to try it out as well. It worked! Crabbe and Goyle helped me set it up and-"

"I hate you so much!", you scream at him angrily, no longer able to keep your anger under control. Draco's expression falls immediately, obviously not expecting this kind of a reaction. You are still stiffly standing under the door frame, stretching your arms away from your body to somehow escape the extreme cold, water still running down, even under your clothes. "Why do you never know when it's time to stop?! I thought you wanted to surprise me!"

A little taken aback, Draco slowly approaches you while you are busy with wringing out your wet hair. "Don't you dare touch me now, Draco Malfoy!", you command and he obeys your words, stopping a few inches in front of you. "Love, it was just supposed to be fun..", he mumbles dejected, insecurely rocking back and forth on his feet, slowly realizing his mistake.

"Yeah, of course. For you it's always all fun and games until someone dies!", you angrily rebuke him. "I'm completely wet, I'm damned cold, as if it wasn't already cold enough outside, and all I wanted is to spend a relaxing and nice afternoon with my boyfriend who, as always, only got nonsense in his mind and not thinks about his girlfriend's feelings!", you complain, getting rid of your wet cloak while bumping into him with your shoulder as you walk past, throwing it onto your bed. You sit down next to it on the soft mattress and take off your soaking wet shoes as well. For a few minutes there is nothing but silence between you two.

"Y/N..", Draco breaks the silence, but you just shoot him a scathing glance, your lower lip now trembling from the coldness surrounding your body. "I don't want to hear anything, Draco. Really", you scoff and roll your eyes, standing up to finally get out of your uncomfortable clothes. "Can you leave, please? I want to change", you ask him reproachfully, but he doesn't move a single bit.

"I'm responsible for this so let me help you, okay? I'm sorry", he says, sincerity in his sad voice. You can't even answer him as he already pulls out his wand and casts a spell you don't recognize. The puddles on the floor disappear and your clothes are suddenly dry again. All that is left is the unbearable cold around you. Freezing, you draw your cloak tighter around you and give Draco a very small but thankful smile.

He looks at you thoughfully before spreading his arms to invite you into a warm hug, which you gladly accept. Even though you're mad at him, he still manages to make you soften again. You wrap your arms tightly around his waist and he gently strokes your back with one hand in hopes to warm you up at least a little bit, then places a gentle kiss of the top of your head and hugs you even tighter, pulling you closer to his much warmer body. He can clearly feel your body tremble against his. "I'm really sorry, love. I hope you can forgive me for my stupid behavior..", he breathes into your ear, loosening your arms around his waist to take your ice-cold hands in his.

He closely examines your face, searching for any hint of what your answer could be like. No longer able to resist his pleading stare and shimmering gray eyes, you slowly nod to assure him that you will forgive him. Of course you will; you love him way too much to let something this silly destroy your relationship. More than happy with your answer, he cups your cheeks between his hands, his silver ring coldy pressing against your skin, and gives you a loving kiss.

"I will make up for it, I promise", he speaks against your lips after you broke the kiss, his thumb caressing your lower lip softly. "As long as you stop those stupid pranks, idiot", you roll your eyes, still feeling a tiny bit upset about the incident. A little chuckle escapes his lips and he pulls you close against him again. "Let's warm you up first, hm?", Draco whispers and before you know it he has apparated both of you back into the common room. Because everyone left to go to the lake you're now completely alone in the big room.

Without your consent, Draco pulls you onto one of the couches near the fireplace so you can warm up. With the help of a spell, he increases the flame a little more. Out of nowhere he throws you a fluffy, thick blanket and wraps you in it, your body now slowly but surely heating up.

While you're still busy making yourself comfortable, Draco extinguishes all the lights in the room except for a few candles, which dip the quiet room into a soothing light, creating a relaxing atmosphere for you two.

"Are you feeling warmer already? Do you need something else? What about a hot chocolate?", he questions you, still feeling extremly horrible for what he made you go through. "A hot chocolate sounds very nice, actually", you accept his offer, deciding to take advantage of the situation, innocently smiling at him. It does not even take him one single second and he suddenly vanishes into thin air. Shaking your head but smiling to yourself you watch the flame in the fireplace while you wait for him to return.

To your amazement, it takes him a lot longer than you expected and that just for a simple hot chocolate. After about a quarter of an hour he pops up again in front of you all of a sudden, two steaming cups in his hands. He serves you your hot drink with a cheeky smile on his face. "As requested: one perfectly hot chocolate, but not nearly as hot as you", he winks at you before making himself comfortable next to you.

"What took you so long?", you ask and take a sip, skillfully ignoring his statement. "Had to.. run a few more errands, you know. I'm a very busy man", he smirks at you, holding the, in his hands much smaller looking, cup. You look at him in disbelief and then discover a few white spots on his uniform that make you raise your eyebrows in confusion. "It's snowing outside?", you question and point to the snowflakes on his cloak that are slowly melting in the warm room. "Care to explain why you were outside?"

"Uh, well.. I just wanted to please my lovely girlfriend", he explains and takes something out of his pockets. You immediately know what it is and sit up excitedly, but before you can grab it, you pull your hand back. "That's not another one of your pranks, is it?", you pout and look in his eyes for an answer, any sign that this really is just normal candy from Honeydukes and not some experiments he bought from Fred and George.

"Come on, Y/N! They are not poisoned. Eat now or I froze myself to death out there for nothing", Draco assures you and you decide to trust him, carefully opening the candy, revealing the actually normal, delicious sweets that you love so much. Happily eating them you don't even notice at first how Draco keeps staring at you, one of his fingers nervously tapping the rim of his cup.

"Y/N?", Draco finally clears his throat, sitting up straight while you look at him with big expectant eyes. The way he pronounces your name, how the letters roll of his tongue create goosebumps all over your skin, causing you to cuddle up more into the cozy blanket, waiting for him to continue. His gaze wanders back and forth between you and his warm drink, of which he has not drunk very much yet.

He opens his mouth to say something again but notices the goosebumps on your arm, the alarm bells in his head loudly going off immediately. "Are you still cold? Wait a second!", Draco tells you, without waiting for an answer, and jumps up, running to his prefect room and coming back a few seconds later to give you one of his green Slytherin sweaters. "Here. Put it on, it will warm you up", he commands and examines you carefully as you pull it over your head, the pleasant scent of his perfume clouding your senses instantly.

Your cheeks turn a little bit red, on the one hand because of the extreme warmth that now surrounds you and on the other hand because Draco gives you such a sweet and tender look, as if you are the most beautiful and precious being in this world; which, in fact, you definetely are to him. He moves closer to you and puts his arm around your shoulders so that you can lean against his chest and snuggle up to him. Draco gently runs his fingers over your hair, over your cheeks and to your chin, which he slightly lifts up, making you look at him.

Neither of you say anything for a while, you just look each other deep in the eyes. Draco brushes one strand of hair behind your ear that fell into your face and slowly leans in. You close your eyes, waiting for him to connect your lips, but he teasingly stops shortly before, his breath fanning against your skin. "I have something for you.. as an apology", he gently whispers and you open your eyes in surprise. "You don't have to give me anything, Draco. I've already forgiven you, you know that", you smile at him, cupping one of his cheeks which makes him smile.

He takes your hand in his and squeezes it lightly, kisses your knuckles and then shakes his head with a sigh. "I know. Still, I feel bad and want to give you something. Something very meaningful and significant", he declares, reaching into his pocket once again. Eventually, his secrecy makes you kind of curious anyway and you look at his hand eagerly, waiting to see what the gift will be.

Draco pulls out a small black box covered in velvet. Your curious gaze focuses on the box, which contents are still unknown to you until he finally opens it and reveals a beautiful, gold shimmering and, above all, quite expensive looking necklace. Small moons and stars hang on it, but the real focus of the indescribably lovely piece of jewelry is in the middle. The bigger splendid pendant attached to it is none other than his name, Draco, written in an artistic curved font. Overwhelmed, your mouth drops open.

"Actually, I wanted to give it to you for our anniversary this year, as a thanks for sticking around with me for so long, no matter how stupid and silly and annoying I was. Somehow it just felt like the right moment to give it to you now", Draco explains in a calm voice, no sight of the silly boy from a few hours ago, and takes the necklace out of its box, gesturing that you should turn around so he can carefully place it around your neck. He leaves a few butterfly kisses along your neck before you turn around to him again, immediately touching the pendant with your fingertips, slightly pressing it against your soft skin.

"I thought I would give you my first name as long as I can't give you my last", Draco smiles timidly, a tear escaping from the corner of your eye as you pull him into a tight embrace. "D-Draco.. I don't know what to say.. I love you so much", you sob into his neck, placing a kiss right there. His arms wrap around you and he breathes out contentedly and somewhat relieved. "I was afraid that you would reject me..", he whispers nearly inaudible, more to himself than to you.

"I would never even think about rejecting you! But do you really promise that you will make it come true, Draco? That you will give me the honor to receive your last name?", you ask seriously, retreating a bit so you are able to look at his handsome face. A smile creeps its way onto his lips at your so serious but also hopeful facial expression. "I don't want anything more in my life than that, darling", Draco clarifies honestly and then takes the pendant with his name on it between his thumb and index finger. "This is a promise", he repeats softly and gives you a quick but loving kiss.

Despite the short kiss, you feel a pleasant warmth inside of you and the butterflies flutter around in your stomach. You put your hands around his neck and can't help but grin brightly, trying to hide it by biting down on your lower lip. Immediately, Draco's thumb comes up to your lip and stops you from doing so, looking back and forth between your shiny eyes and plump lips.

The next kiss you share is so passionate and with so much love that you forget everything around you in a matter of seconds, fading out your surroundings. Now, there is only you and Draco. And a promise that you hold close to your heart.

[weasleypogues]

fight club (p.h.)

request: hii can i request smth angsty with pope ? maybe it could end well for both the reader and him but overall it’s just filled with angst and slow burn and tension ? ty xx

ofc lovieee!!! loving this pope recognition finally!! :)

this will be a two part becuause this was longer than i expected!!! part 2 here!!!

masterlist.

you literally felt like you could not sit still. anger was pulsating through your veins as you paced back and forth on the porch of the chateau. you also felt the piercing eyes of pope follow you back and forth as you struggled to form a cohesive sentence.

“it’s just- ugh! she can’t get away with this! she thinks because she’s a kook that i’ll be begging for her forigveness and shit like i’m a starving peasant just to save my reputation! i’m a fucking pogue, i don’t have a reputation to uphold!” you spat as your hands clenched together so hard you swear you were going to accidentally draw blood from your palms.

vanessa was a kook that you never had problems with when you were kids because you two had a friendship that was secretive and playful because of opposing groups. it wasn’t until middle school was when she ditched you, similar to kie and sarah’s relationship. thankfully for them, they sorted it out. however, vanessa was bitter and bitchy every chance she could get. 

“yes (y/n)! keep it fiesty! i wanna see you win a good cat fight.” jj egged you on.

“you’re gonna make yourself go crazy if you don’t just sit down.” pope spoke in a sterner tone than you would have expected. but as the rage filled you from vanessa, pope’s tone was not helping. you felt a tinge of hurt in your chest as he expressed his clear stress and annoyance with you. but you weren’t going to let it go that easily; not in this state.

“i’m fine just the way i am, thanks.” you responded just as passive-aggressively as he did. you literally had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes so you wouldn’t egg this on, because the last thing you needed was for pope of all people to be on your bad side. 

you heard him scoff from behind you and his footsteps faded away. you spun around so quickly, maybe even too quickly to play it cool, to just see a flash of him as he turned the corner. your eyes flashed to john b, kie, and jj who had expressions that were just as shocked as your own.

“what’s his problem?” you asked, expecting an answer real quick before you had to go investigate it yourself. your teeth grinded against each other and you felt your face and ears go hot. 

“he probably just doesn’t think this is worth it (y/n/n).” kiara stated, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt and giving you a look that said don’t let it get to you. kiara shared a quick glance with john b and jj, which definitely did not go unnoticed by you.

“w-what was that? that little look you three shared?” you asked pointing your finger at them interchangeably and confused but angrily eager to find out. you raised your eyebrows, expecting another speedy answer as you finally turned towards jj who held his hands up in defense and bit his tongue. 

“cut pope some slack. you’ve been looking for trouble lately (y/n), it’s been keeping him on edge each time.” john b responded and slapped his hands on this thighs before getting up off the couch. you felt your cheeks get a little hot and your jaw drop slightly.

pope was trying to be protective of you. this was not a secret that you and pope were always flirty with each other but neither of you ever acted on it. both keeping the same sad mindset, if they wanted to, they would. everytime you talked about this with kiara and sarah at a girls’ night, they playfully judged you for thinking like that and tried to encourage you to just go for it. 

you took a deep inhale and relaxed your shoulders and face, feeling the tension ease up on your body. “she’s asking for it...look i don’t want to make pope upset or anything but vanessa can’t keep pulling this shit. she’s asking for her teeth to get knocked in.” you huffed out as you grabbed your backpack and phone to hop on your bike and head home. 

--

your grabbed your phone and backpack as you headed back outside to your bike. you didn’t even bother to text the rest of the group about catching a ride to tonights kegger because you were just a little fired up from earlier. they were your friends and if this were any other case, they would be backing you up. why is this time any different?

you’re recalling yourself getting ready. stud earrings because she can grab hold of hoops. your hair in two braids because there was less surface area for her to snatch onto. sneakers to make a run for it in case shit gets bad. 

what the rest of them don’t understand is that not only was vanessa mean, spoiled, and made your existence on the obx difficult, was that you had a bumpy past with her. more than just losing a friend. she made up a rumor based on fake ideas that she overheard her parents talking about. when she would run into you on the street with her other kook friends at the ripe age of 13, she would be a bystander as they spat insults your way. that always caused a strain in your friendship. 

until one day, she started the picking on first. she judged you on your family’s financial situation and said quote-by-quote “i heard her mom cheats on her dad with all of her little pogue friend’s dads. who knows, they could actually be related and we wouldn’t know. she’s a whore and i’m sure she’ll end up just like her.” tears still brim your eyes at that memory. you wouldn’t dare tell the rest of the pogues, whether it was out of embarassment or fear. it was best for them and their own minds that it was never brought up again. since then, it seems like constant torture from her. 

you pulled up on the beach and hopped off your bike as your tires were definitely not made for the sand. you laid it on a tree and made a b-line to the keg that john b was basically guarding. “thought we’d hear from you.” you heard kiara state as she sat on the sand and glanced up at you, squinting her eyes to keep the remaining sun from basically burning them.

“yeah well, just got a lot on my mind.” you responded. you didn’t want to be so abrupt with them but your blood was basically boiling with the idea of vanessa. john b stared between you and kiara and handed you a full red solo cup which you gladly took, taking a gulp.

“soooo...” jj started, throwing an arm around your shoulder, “cat fight tonight?” you felt a chuckle rise out of you as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“if you’re lucky enough, maybe you’ll get front row.” you joked, sending a smirk jj’s way and taking another gulp. you felt a presence behind you and turned to be faced with pope. his facial expression had clearly changed from what you saw from him last time. he looked almost guilty and concerned rather than aggravated. 

“come to snap at me again?” you said, turning towards the horizon on the water. looking into his eyes right now was difficult. maybe because it was the idea that you knew some part of you wanted to snap at him for him snapping at you earlier but you couldn’t make another enemy. not tonight. 

“about that...can i actually talk to you for a minute?” pope muttered, instincitvely cracking his knuckles, clearly scared to tread on water. you felt your shoulders relax and your facial muscles follow suit. placing your drink and backpack on the ground you followed a few paces behind him, closer to the sand where the tide was rolling in. although he didn’t stop, he wanted this to be a walk and talk situation. 

you strolled beside him, both of your hands slightly brushing against each other every now and then. while neither of you took initiative to grab the others’ hand, neither of you pulled your hands out of that pathway either. that connection and touch felt nice. it was reassuring that his snappiness, along with your own, was out of love and protection of each other. 

“you won’t be happy with what i’m about to say...” pope started, basically holding his breath.

“so why say it, pope? i know it sounds bad to say outloud but, why not just let me fight her? she has made my existence so unbearably difficult on this island and has slandered my name and countless others of those i love too much and for too long. i’m sick of being a pushover and letting her get away with it because of mommy and daddy’s money. im done!” you blurted out, letting more info out than you expected. “why does it bother you so much? if this was topper and john b going at it, or rafe and jj? which keep in mind, both have actually happened, i’m sure you would be more hesitant to stop them.”

your strolling came to a sudden halt as pope took a step directly in front of you, face to face. he looked longingly into your eyes, somewhat darting back and forth between your own eyes to search for an answer to his questions or even an answer to yours. 

“(y/n)! i can’t see you get hurt. i know how badly you want to do this and how much it means to you but in the end, what is it going to get you? an even worse reputation among kooks, bloody nose, and a black eye? is it worth it?” pope rambled drasticaly. 

“it is worth it! and i’m so thankful that you care about me and my well being and everything in between but this is something that i have to do. once and for all. i’m not putting myself and everyone i love through this torture anymore. and if that means beating the shit out of her and getting a bloody lip and battered up on the way, than so be it!” you responded, using your hands quite animatedly throughout the performance. the waves seemed like the loudest thing on earth as you awaited an answer from pope. he looked defeated and anxious, knowing that there was no getting through to you for this. 

“i-” pope started before cutting himself off, looking deafeated yet again. he ran his hands over his face in frustration and as he let his eyes shine over the tips of his fingers, they locked with yours. you felt stuck in place and in a trance for a split second before you felt a pair of hands on your waist and soon enough, you were lip locked with pope. 

instantly you pulled away, your heart feeling full and your legs feeling limp. your hands made their way to his jawline, slightly caressing his cheeks and neck as you pulled him back into the kiss, elongating it. 

he pulled away, shocked yet proud with himself. you could not help the small smile that made it’s way onto your face as your cheeks felt hot immediately. “i can’t believe i’m saying this but...fuck it. beat the shit out of vanessa.” 

the small smile grew as a laugh escaped your lips. you were quick to grab his hand as you both made your way back towards the kegger that was becoming a little more dense as the minutes passed. sarah, kiara, jj, and john b’s eyes were quick to fall on your interlocked hands with pope. both of you kept quiet, playing it nonchalantly. but you couldn’t help but notice pope’s look to john b and jj, all with smirks lined up on their faces.

part two out later!! :) 

[thebeautyoffanfics]

hello!💙💙i hope im not bothering you but may i get a tsukasa or mitsuba x reader where their s/o loves to draw but never lets them see and one day they steal their s/o sketchbook and dont see any drawings of them and the boys are a lil dissapointed but their s/o has a secret sketcbook that they always keep with them filled with the boys portraits?? it would be rlly cute!!(feel free to ignore tho!)💙💜

tsukasa yugi x gn!reader, mitsuba sousuke x gn!reader

a/n: no worries, you aren’t bothering me at all!! This is a super cute prompt, so thank you so much for requesting! (i love writing mitsuba too,,, just gotta love the sharp-tongued, short-tempered characters <3)

warnings:

word count: 1,471

Tsukasa Yugi <3

He thinks the fact that you can draw is super cool!! Probably more so than you do, to be completely honest- he’s extremely enthusiastic about it, but that also means he’s extremely annoying about it.

Lots of “let me look, let me look!!” “I wanna seeeeeeee,” “(Y/N), pleaaaaseee, what’re you drawinggggg?”

“Tsukasa, I love you, I love you very much. But, I promise you, if you don’t shut up and let me draw in peace-”

“:((“

So, of course, if you don’t let him see it, our gremlin of a boy is going to look through it one way or another. Pestering you relentlessly didn’t work, trying to slip it casually into a conversation didn’t work, so! You leave him no option!

One day, when you’re minding your business in class, Tsukasa checks your locker. Maybe, just maybe, you left it in there?

Hmm… empty- next stop!! Bookbag!

His eyes practically lit up, his expression excited, practically screaming “found it!!”

Tsukasa would open the sketchbook, silently wondering what on earth you could have drawn. His only experience in art was… well- with things that weren’t intended for art. It wasn’t ever proper “art” either. Just a lot of smearing. But anyway-

A part of him sort of hoped it would be something with him. Maybe even a little doodle, it didn’t have to be a fully colored, lined, amazing piece. Just little doodles, cos you loved him so much, and he infested your mind like the little parasite he is… y’know….

So, as he flipped through the pages, admiring your style- amazed with every little doodle, every little pencil marking, every little detail- he kept an eye out for anything that could have even vaguely resembled him. Yet, once he reached the end, he was rather certain that there was nothing. Tsukasa felt a bit disappointed, pouting despite the fact that you weren’t there to see it.

“Tell me how I knew you were up to something,” You sighed, looking at the boy seated next to your bookbag, the last pages of your sketchbook flipped open. He ignored the comment, placing your sketchbook to the side, then hugging you. You returned the hug, giving him a confused glance.

“What? It’s nothing incredible, but was it that bad-? I don’t even know everything that’s in that, so-”

“You didn’t draw me :(((“

“You didn’t ask me to???”

Still, you couldn’t help but laugh, well aware of the other sketchbook you had stored in the more secure part of your bookbag. Patting his back, then letting go of the hug, you bent down and grabbed your sketchbook and bag. Replacing the sketchbook he had flipped through, you then reached in and grabbed the other.

Somewhat embarrassed, yet know he already found out about your artistic abilities and would probably be glad to see himself, you handed him the sketchbook. “I’ll have you know, I’m not exactly overjoyed with you right now. But, since you’re a sneak, I’ll let you look at that one.”

Tsukasa opened the sketchbook with renewed energy, excited to see what was inside it. Was it him?! Did he actually infest your mind?!! Was he a good model??

Uncharacteristically, his face was slightly warm as he looked over the first page. It started off with a fully finished drawing of him- a very strong start, if he did say so himself. Not only was it him, it was awesome.

He flipped through the rest of the pages, happiness and excitement practically radiating off of him. You could have sworn you saw his eyes sparkling.

“THAT’S SO COOL, (Y/N)!!” Tsukasa would yell after shutting the sketchbook, throwing his arms around you happily, making sure that the sketchbook didn’t get damaged as he did so. “You did draw me! You drew a lot of me!!”

“Ahah- yeah. You’re… cute, after all. Why wouldn’t I draw my boyfriend?”

Mitsuba Sousuke <3

Nosey little dude, but on a more casual level than Tsukasa.

“I’ve shown you my pictures, so you should show me your drawings.”

“That makes sense,”

“So, show me.”

“Nope!”

“(Y/N)-”

Though amusing, Mitsuba will start to pout after a while. “Tch- it’s not like I wanted to see it anyway. It’s probably lame.”

“Awesome then! That doesn’t make me want to show you any more than I previously did~!”

Insert Mitsuba sticking his tongue out at you-

Still, Mitsuba does understand where you’re coming from. After all, he never shows you pictures he’s taken of you. Therefore! It’s only logical that you wanted to draw his cute face!! He muttered this, crossing his arms, yet pretending that it was no big deal to him. Nope, those little comments and attempted glances were nothing-

“Mmh? You’re cute, yes.”

“That’s not what I- whatever, pervert. It’s clear now. You don’t want to show me, ��cos there’s raunchy art in there! Pervert! Creepy, you’re so creepy-”

“Then aren’t you a pervy creep for wanting to look in my sketchbook?”

“I-”

Mitsuba may have not talked to you for the rest of the day- but it’s fiiiine, he’s fiiiiiiine.

Especially since, by the end of the next day, Mitsuba passed your locker, planning on returning to the class from a bathroom break. As he glanced over at your locker, not fully shut because of your bookbag shoved into it, an idea crossed his mind. It wouldn’t take long… a little peak wouldn’t hurt. Just to make sure his s/o wasn’t a pervert, of course! Not out of personal interest!

So, he grabbed your bag, rummaging through it until he found a well-used sketchbook. His interest peaked, as he grabbed it, opening it up and flipping through the pages.

Some of the pieces were similar to pictures he had given to you, but he didn’t spot anything of him. Sure, your art was impressive, and he was rather content finally getting to see it, but-

But where was his cute face?? Not even his name??? No dreamy “(Y/N) Sousuke” written? Nothing.

Well, it’s not like he cared anywa-

“Really, Mitsuba? You needed to use the bathroom?”

“AH-” He yelped, shutting your sketchbook, as if that would make it seem like he wasn’t just flipping through the pages in slight awe. “Shut up, pervert! I went to the bathroom, I just- you were being suspicious.”

“By drawing?”

“YEs.”

You laughed lightly, though embarrassed as you took the sketchbook from him, putting it back into your bookbag. To be completely honest, your heart was beating a bit faster, slightly nervous that he found your art ugly. It wasn’t anything in comparison to his pictures, you thought..

And, when you turned around and caught a glimpse of his slightly disappointed face, your heart beat even faster. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” He said, somewhat defensively- well, that much was normal.

“Sorry, it’s probably disappointing- I know my art isn’t the greatest, but it’s definitely improved over time. There are things I need to study, but-”

“Hey, don’t assume I’m upset with your art, dummy. It’s…” He blushed slightly, looking away from you and shoving his hands in his pockets, “it’s really cool. I’m impressed.”

“Then why are you pouting?”

“I’m not pouting.”

You raised your eyebrows, making Mitsuba flush further, opening his mouth as he thought of what to say in response to that expression. “I just- well, you were weird about it, so I figured there was something about me- something weird or suspicious. But, it’s all perfectly normal.”

It took a moment for you to get behind his words- but, after getting behind Mitsuba’s extremely indirect way of saying things, you understood what he meant. He wanted you to draw him. After processing that, you bit your lip, wondering if you should actually show him your other sketchbook… a glimpse at his slight pout, though it was now confusion at your conflicted expression, you turned around, rummaging through your bookbag.

Then, you pulled out another sketchbook, and pushed it against his chest. “Since you’re so insistent. Just go ahead and look through it, I guess.”

It was Mitsuba’s turn to raise his eyebrows, as he took the sketchbook, and opened it up. His face burned, as he flipped through the pages. They were… filled with him. It genuinely made his heart pound, looking at the array of doodles, line art, and fully finished pieces- occasionally, a small heart or smiley face would be doodled alongside them. If he didn’t find your art incredible before, he definitely did now. Of course, he’d never admit it to your face, but his expression was enough for you to understand.

“A-ah… gross- idiot. Of course, I should have known a pervert like you would draw such a cute face. It’s obvious.”

“Right, right. Honestly, just give me a penny each time you call me a pervert, I’ll be rich in no time-”

[jinnyu]

regarding romance!

╒══════════════════╕

Used artwork credits

Hop

Bede

Leon

Raihan

╘══════════════════╛

———☆️

Hop🍀

It started as the cliché love story about falling in love with your very own bestfriend

Which, actually turned out great??

His Zacian/Zamazenta loves you as much as it's trainer does, and is willing to protect you from anything

Probably because it observed Hop being protective over you, and proceeding to do the same

Sure it might took a toll on him when you defeated him on the championship semi-finals, but he wanted you to be happy more than anything

He's such a sweetheart even if he doesn't show it much

The type to appreciate small little things, especially when it comes from you

"Let's camp together!!"

You camped together

He got chased by a wild steelix whilst trying to gather data for his research later

His Zamazenta/Zacian was busy playing with your own legendary

*from the distance* "GAH! HELP!"

You ran after him and calmed down the wild steelix

Then you walked to him and checked if he got any wounds or scratches, which leads you to cupping his face gently with a worried look on your face

Hop's blushing

He's freaking out inside

You didn't notice the tint of blush dusting his cheeks,which gradually reddens with each second that passes

"im okay, dont worry" he tried his best reassuring you

Even though he's blushing, he proceeded to press his forehead gently against yours, closing his eyes and smiling

oh no he's cute

You're blushing

haha blushy reader

You let him do his thing, its somewhat calming

He's warmm

His hands are calloused, different from yours; you just remembered this when he placed his hand on top of yours while you were checking for his wounds from before

This just shows how much he's been working off to reach the champion title

And yet he's completely alright with you taking the spotlight

After all, you're his shining star

And he wouldn't have it in any other way

You let him borrow your champion cape

And he lets you borrow his labcoat

It fits just right with you! And it got his scent, which calms you down whenever you're feeling anxious

When you wear his labcoat, you're 1000000000% irresistible to his eyes

"Don't be so adorableee" he said as he pulled you into a hug and burying his face in your neck

You only laughed softly at his reaction. He was blushing too,,,

You often waited for him to finish his lab work, even if it's until late hours

He's a really hard worker, no wonder he stayed until late

"Im sorry for making you wait"

He looks exhausted, but tried his best to pull a bright smile, not wanting to worry you

You only gave him a warm hug, which surprised him at first before he hugs you back and proceed to walk you to your house

💓💓💓 < your heart

Comfort time

There's usually some jerks who'd tease you for being the champion, or flirt with you in an impolite way

If Hop caught on to this, he would politely ask them to leave

If they still dont understand, his legendary comes out of his pokeball and growl at them

He'd ask them one more time to stop bothering you, but this time, with a menacing smile that says "stay here any longer and you wont get to see another daylight"

Then he'd check up on you, asking if you're alright, if they did anything to you or whatnot

Hed wrap his arms around your waist and drape his labcoat over you, because he knows his labcoat always manages to calm you down

"It's okay, you're okay, everything is alright now, c'mere"

You let him hug you as you feel safe around him, and you two stayed in that position until you feel alright again

💕💕

———☆️

Bede🍰

He's not the best at showing affection but at least he tries

You help him come out with quizzes for his gym challenge

And sometimes joke about the poses he makes when practicing

Sometimes, he gets reminded that you're the champion of Galar and he's way out of your trainer level

Which actually motivates him to become the strongest gym leader there is by pushing past his limits

"I'll show you how strong fairy types can be"

He said to himself as he was thinking about you

People kept misunderstanding fairy types after all, and thats a big mistake

You appreciate his efforts in maxing out his strength, and you show it by coming to his fairy stadium whenever he battles a challenger

You texted him "good luck, I'll be cheering 4 u!❤️❤️👍" before his matches start

And you looked at his direction after sending the message

He has just gotten your message, and opened it

Which leads to him blushing furiously as he covers his face with one of his hands

He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure, only to fail miserably when he saw you looking at his direction with pure ambition and determined eyes as you grinned happily

All that i could say is, he's red as a beet

He wont lose this match, not when you're watching him.

He puts extra effort when you're watching his match, and made sure not to slip up. It'd be embarrassing if he did.

Opal notices this and only smiled seeing her successor acting out of his place whenever you're around

Opal knows something that you dont, and that's Bede's feelings for you

After his match ended, his Hatterene walked towards your direction, pulling you into a tight hug

You were surprised, but apparently Hatterene has grown to like you ever since she first met you

And when you look at Bede's direction, he was looking away with his arms crossed infront of his chest, visibly drowning in embarassment

,,,you wondered, is Bede projecting on his Hatterene or what,

Yes, yes he is

So you asked him if he also wants a hug, which of course he answered with "Why would i want a hug from someone like you? That'd be an insult to me"

You let go of Hatterene and hugged him anyways

He flinched when you hugged him, not knowing where to put his hands and just let them stay still in a defensive pose

Hatterene watched with a smile from behind you, seeing her master in such a flustered state was truly something new for the Pokemon

Not long after, Bede finally let his arms wrap around your waist, giving in to his subconscious and just hug you

he wanted to hug you anyways so thats a win win situation

You were actually surprised when he hugged you back

He smells nice!! Like perfume?? Cologne?? Floral scent

His Hatterene decided to join in and wrapped her arm around you both, making you all hug even more tightly

Bede cant handle this well.

No, not at all.

His face was really red and its hot— in all honesty, its cute, but he was burning

"Why do you have to embarrass me like this?"

You buried your face in his neck, which startled him as he couldn't think at all

"Y-you!!"

He feels nice and soft, so you're not planning to let go any sooner, likewise with Hatterene.

Bede's mind: ASDFGHJKL????—GODDAMMI—

OKAY NOW COMFORT TIME

His true nature would come out when you're not feeling yourself or when people would makw you feel like shit

"Hey.."

His face shows concern, but it still his usual look of coldness— however, his actions are warm despite his cold features

He'd let you wear his coat as he battles anyone who dared to hurt you

"Are you alright now..?"

He cupped your face and made you look at his face, swiping off the tears that stained your face with his thumbs delicately

He hated seeing you cry, and he'll try better next time to make sure you didn't cry

———☆️

Leon🌟

He's kind at all but sometimes he's just... "???????"

Training!! Dates!!

More like battle tower dates because he really admires your strength as a champion

Occasionally, he'd visit your house and check up on you, wondering if you're free for the day for "quality time"

At first, he was surprised to see one of the legendaries answering the door for you

And he couldn't resist to ruffle it's hair

your legendary on the other hand was kind of irritated by it

So it let out a displeased howl

Which leads you to come down stairs and see who is it

"L—leon?"

He looked up and greet you with a goofy grin as your legendary returned to your side, walking with you

He treats you like a gentleman, and sometimes is very strict with your training regimen

In which you usually whine about because you're the current champion and you have no business listening to him

But he'd swoon you with lovely words

And you would easily fall for it

you hate this

You hate him

No you dont

You love him, you could never hate a goofball like him anyways

Hey did i ever mention Leon's sense of direction is shitty

You went on a date in Wyndon a couple of times and he still gets lost everytime

"Ah!! Hey—....."

"Im lost again aren't i?"

He tried to find his way back to you but got surrounded by paparazzis

Even if he's not the current champion

You saved his butt since he couldn't say no to the people and his fans

He said thank you and hugged you, lifting you up to the air before pulling you close to him

This only made you laugh softly as you hugged him back, letting your fingers comb his thick lavender like hair

His body is warm and comforting, you really like his cuddles and hugs

He came into your house one time when you didn't answer his calls or messages, only to find you drown in your anxiety and self loathing

He pulled you in his arms and let you cry on his shoulder until you're all done and alright again

He'd draw circles over your back and tell you reassuring words— tell you that you're more than enough and he's grateful to have you here, alive and well

Your Zacian/Zamazenta got out of it's pokeball and helped you in calming you down too by giving you small licks on your knee

It'd whine whenever you're sad and climb onto your bed, nudging your arm afterwards as if it's asking what's wrong

You're lucky to have them both whenever you need them the most, and they're lucky to have you

———☆️

Raihan 🐲

It's finally the Character y'all been waitin for, dragon boi coming through

Okay serious talk here— Raihan is TALL

His hoodies makes you look smaller than you already are

You tried copying his "Gaooo~" pose a couple of times while wearing his hoodie

Its cutest thing he has ever seen his entire life

It makes him melt everytime

Okay aside from that, he's gentle and laid back, even if his personality is quite the opposite when he's on battle

He's cLINGY ASF

Don't forget his fangs, never forget his fangs

You're actually curious about his fangs since the first day you saw him

And he lets you touch it whenever you like

Youre still curious, because what the hell, its so cool

The first day you saw him after defeating him in a match and gain your gym badge, he immediately took an interest in you and your strength

"Hey Challenger!"

He called you before you tried to take your leave, gaining your attention

He then asked you if you want to practice with him next time, and have a rematch when you've become the champion

You agreed and exchanged numbers

What can i say, he spams you like?????? A lot

And casually sends you pictures of him and his duraludon

You love his dragons, especially flygon

Flygon loves you too, and one time it wanted to come with you

Raihan lets you keep his Flygon and you send him pictures of you with it

He sends emotes of duraludon crying, wanting to join you and your fun trip with Flygon to grab the Champion title

After you took the Champion title, Raihan greeted you with a big hug

And you hug him back with no hesitation

"Congratulations, may i have a selfie with the new Champion?"

He asked in a teasing manner, letting you down on your feet as you nodded

You took a selfie selfwith him numerous times before he posted it to his social media

He captioned 'First person to get a selfie with the new Champion'

He took pride in that, and some of his fans were jealous that you managed to get a selfie with him

From that day onwards, he'd have casual selfies with you, sometimes hilarious one and sometimes its just for showing off

You didn't mind it really, he's a celebrity anyways, so you understand why he does that

"Hey.. do stars have feelings"

It was three am what the fuck Raihan

You squinted at your screen seeing his message

"Why in the Galar would you be awake, dear Dragon tamer?"

You answered him

And immediately he answered "oh? The Champion is awake?"

You guys didn't sleep afterwards and was sending streaks of blurry selfies

It was fun and helped you cheer up

You got some of his blurry pics that he captioned "party rock in the house" when clearly its just him and his pokemons

What a goofball pt.2

You love him anyways shut up

Haha smol reader pt.2

[angelharness]

i have managed to entirely block out the words “away from the campfire” when reading this request im so sorry anon

COMFORT BY CAMPFIRE, AND A BIT TOO MUCH LONGING 

WARNINGS: none

LAURIE STRODE

You don’t know how, but you’ve managed to feel out of place in a domain of which its inherent existence is uninhabitable, who all its occupants do not belong but remain nonetheless. 

You scan across the circle of landscape cupped by the onset of heavy fog which starts very abruptly at the tree-line and stretches on indefinitely. The light of the fire wobbles, ebbing like the banks of a lake; but you know now that it offers no warmth. 

Laurie cut her hand straight across the open flames, and though the fire snarled it did not burn her. She withdrew her hand back to reveal it was uncharred, untouched, even. When you slump by it after a trial, your face is not blasted by heat as you would assume. When you raise your palms to it, shivering, legs to your chest, they are no warmer.

Even when your lungs are scorching after sprinting nonstop, chased through disheveled corridors, your breaths come out in cold whips of air. All your tears are cool, they never burn your cheeks like they once did. 

You finally spot her among the resting survivors. Quentin sits across from her at the fire, picking at the loose button of his jacket cuff. Cheryl is laid back against the log that she’s occupied on, slumped against Laurie’s leg and sleeping. Laurie sees you approaching and tries to scoot over, but evidently doesn’t want to disturb the girl at her foot. She manages some room for you, though, and you take a seat next to her. With just a wedge of cracked wood on your end, you’re forced to shuffle closely up to her side. 

Wordlessly, you lean into her. Slowly, at first, looking at her expression to find disapproval. With none visible, you let yourself relax somewhat. Your bones burn, your muscles too. But it’s a cold burn. You think about the brilliant, orange sun, and feel your heart sink steadily like the moon at dawn. You want to see the warm, fluttering shadows of leaves in the afternoon and want to cup hot sand in your palms. All these sensations you should have cherished. Sun-kissed soil, blushing cheeks. 

Laurie’s been here for much longer than you. She’s wise, even more so than a number of the fog’s older inhabitants. You’ve only known her in your shared time in the Entity’s Realm, and in however long that spanned, she had changed so much.

She welcomed you with comfort. After your first trial, your first look into the brutal game that would become your future indefinitely, she let you grip onto her shoulders and sob, petting your head and rocking you against her. But she could never promise you a happy ending.

“It won’t be like this forever,” Kate had promised, smiling warmly, although wearily. She was sitting on her knees in front of you as you clutched your chest, the aching spot where the hook split through your flesh. The skin was not disturbed, but the memory of the pain was recent and vivid enough to construct an accurate feeling of it. She rubbed your shoulder. “We’ll get out of this, we just need to hang in there.”

Laurie stared at you two, then away at the muddy sky. She never indulged in hope, taking fate as it came, just as relentless to her here as it was before. 

She couldn’t answer when you asked her, sobbing, “how much longer of this? When does it get better?”

Her hand slides into yours, cradling your palm, her fingers cross-stitching between yours, sinking into place. It feels like, over time and with wear, your hands have shaped to fit comfortably in each other. For once since your arrival, you find a small sanctum where you belong. 

Laurie loosens up slightly. Now it is she who leans into you, the crown of her head tucked beneath your chin, head resting delicately on your chest in the hollow of your collarbone. Her short, blonde lashes flutter momentarily against the bare skin above the collar of your shirt. Despite the intimacy of the act, it comes startlingly naturally when you draw your hands through her hair, feathery, curled streaks of gold-blonde. You comb carefully with your fingers and realize her hair smells faintly of a gentle, floral perfume. It’s fitting for Laurie, you wouldn’t have associated a sweet or frilly smell to her. 

Her thumb strokes your wrist. Not a word has been spoken between you two in this encounter, but you appreciate that in Laurie. There isn’t the unspoken pressure to find something to say—comfortable silence is just as meaningful and cherished.  

You let your guard down. You shouldn’t, you know; it could be any moment that the Entity becomes restless once more and throws you into another game to entertain a mind ravenous in its pursuit to dissect terror. It doesn’t tire like you do, but you hope it wouldn’t find so much entertainment in pestering you in your drained state. It leaves you alone for the time being, at least. 

You know for your comfort your teammates are to bear the wrath of the Entity, but you try to ward away the images of blood and metal from your mind. In turn, you will pay your own due, of course—knowing this, you allow yourself this momentary relief. 

You close your eyes. The fire is bright even behind your eyelids, like a lamp behind a canvas tarp. You both lay into each other. Bitter wind sweeps low across the dead plains and the fire snarls back, crackles, then settles. Laurie lifts her head slightly to kiss your jawline. Her lips linger, soft, but stinging your skin with flush. She must’ve thought you had fallen asleep. You squeeze her hand and try to hide a smile. 

For now, just this moment, you belong, and you let yourself belong. 

“I’m glad we met,” you say. It comes out a little too loud, or perhaps it's the unabashedness of the statement that carries a weight heavier then you had anticipated, if at all. It was said without forethought, but not without feeling; you meant it wholly, from the warmness in your chest and an odd haze of longing. Maybe it’s that same haze that has you lingering on the regularly unremarkable sight of her face. You never paused, or had time, to fully register her features, but now your cheeks flare red as you study her intently. You study how the gentle light casts across her face, highlighting her cheeks, the shadows it draws across her jaw and nose. 

“Even under these circumstances,” you continue. You want to think fondly of what it would’ve been like to meet her anywhere else. Maybe you’re assigned partners for a class project and whittle away the afternoon talking about unrelated happenings in the corner couch of the campus library. Maybe, you think, she is the librarian there (she looks the part, in her wool cardigan, dress shoes, equipped with her wise expression), and you’re a frequent visitor, jotting down your number on a slip of paper, tucking it away in the pages of the novel you’re returning and praying she’s the one to find it. 

It’s easy to be swept away in the fantasies of a better, more forgiving timeline. She looks at you kindly. 

Laurie leans further into you, her lips pulling into a small smile. 

You long for naps together in the afternoon, hands moving to find the others even in the state of near sleep. You long for tea and discussion, dissecting and deconstructing books over lemon scones and pecan crumpets. You want to feel the warm grass beneath both of your feet as you hike up a slight hill in a park, looking for the best place to spread your picnic blanket and settle for a lunch of tea sandwiches. 

“Maybe things will be better,” Laurie thinks aloud. It’s the first thing she’s said that could be interpreted with that same longing, a rare expression of hope. 

It’s vague, understandably; you don’t know where you’d go from here. You’re at the bottom of a pit with endlessly towering walls, a pit without an entrance, without even the comfort of the passing sun.

It’s sad. You can barely recall what you did from day to day, even the routine that had been ironed into your brain and, essentially, became second nature—all the mundane seconds you didn’t think to cherish.

Laurie must sense your sorrow. She shifts closer to you. Cheryl stirs, mouth closing. Quentin has joined her in sleep, his knees tucked up underneath his chin, resting his head in the cradle of his arms.

You think you’ll sleep too, just for a while. Laurie has already drifted off. You kiss her forehead lightly, stealing another brief glance at her face (her expression is still elegant; it’s almost frustrating how she can look so carefully composed in every situation, seemingly without effort) then you let your own eyes close.

You’ll find new moments to cherish, somehow. 

[blu-joons]

Protective Best Friend ~ Im Jaebum

You knew that it was only ever going to be a matter of time before your best friend asked to meet your boyfriend. Mingyu had always been incredibly protective of you, especially so when he found out that you were dating Jaebum, one of the most famous idols in the industry, who everyone knew.

“It’s not going to be as bad as you think,” Jaebum chuckled as you went around the apartment, tidying everything up once again. “If he’s your best friend, then he’s going to be happy for you.”

Your head shook, Jaebum really had no idea what Mingyu could be like, especially when it came to you. The two of you had been close friends since you were little, and Mingyu never let you too far out of his sight, just in case anything did happen to you.

Your relationship with Jaebum was one that you tried to keep quiet from him for a while, but Mingyu knew you well, and could tell when something was up. He pushed and he pushed until you were finally honest with him about what was going on, making sure you told him every single detail.

Which was why you now found yourself terrified as you heard a knock at the door. Jaebum waved you over, resting his hand against the small of your back. “Just breathe,” he encouraged you, allowing you to be the one to open up the door to your best friend, trying to hide your nerves.

“Hey,” Mingyu smiled, looking straight at Jaebum. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Jaebum smiled, bowing in Mingyu’s direction as he stepped aside to welcome him in.

You took a step back from both as they walked straight through to the living room where a tray of drinks was already prepared, sitting down beside each other.

Your heart pounded as you soon followed behind the two of them, taking a seat on the end of the sofa beside Jaebum. You could tell by Mingyu’s eyes that he was studying him closely, looking for any sign of fault. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Mingyu suddenly spoke up.

Jaebum continued to remain calm, but by the tone of Mingyu’s voice, you could tell that he was being very serious. He’d been protective around boys you’d dated before, but even around Jaebum, he seemed more concerned than usual.

Beside you, Jaebum simply chuckled, letting Mingyu know that he hoped that you’d only shared with him the good things about him.

“If I heard anything bad, you wouldn’t be here right now,” Mingyu coldly responded.

“Oh right.”

Mingyu nodded, looking between you both. “Y/N’s had her heart broken before, so only perfection will do for her whilst I’m around.”

At last, you sensed the first bit of nerves in Jaebum, you’d warned him before that Mingyu was intimidating to start, and whilst he tried to dismiss it, now that he saw it for himself, all of your warning words made a lot of sense.

“I don’t plan on breaking her heart, I know the two of you are close,” Jaebum spoke, forcing a smile. “You don’t need to worry about me hurting her.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Mingyu replied, “I know what she likes.”

Your eyes widened, shaking your head across at Mingyu, which he quickly caught onto. You’d begged him on the phone the night before to make the effort with Jaebum, and you were desperate for him to fulfil that promise.

“Maybe the two of you can use this time to get to know each other better,” you suggested, trying to pick up the mood a little bit. “That’s the reason that you came round after all Mingyu, not to interrogate Jaebum.”

“Yeah,” he spoke up, forcing a smile to his face. “But I still just want to check that he’s good for you Y/N,” he added, reiterating his intentions yet again to Jaebum.

As hard as he tried to be fine, you could tell that Mingyu’s behaviour was bothering Jaebum. He always told you that he’d be able to handle himself around any of your protective friends, but even this was a little too much for him to deal with.

Before Jaebum had the chance to speak, Mingyu spoke up yet again. “I know you’ve obviously been very successful, and I know your group has done well. But where does Y/N fit in within your busy schedule? I mean, it’s alright now whilst your off work, but what happens when your schedule starts to pick up again.”

Your head shook as getting to know each other soon turned into yet another interrogation. “Mingyu,” you muttered under your breath.”

“It’s fine Y/N,” Jaebum grinned, taking a hold of your hand, “I’d ask the same questions if I was in his position. But that’s something Y/N and I have discussed, she’s very understanding, as I’m sure she is with your career as well.”

Mingyu nodded, somewhat pleased with the response that he got from Jaebum. “I’ve listened to a lot of boys make promises about how they’re going to look after Y/N, and they’ve not followed through, so I hope that you’re different.”

As the afternoon progressed, the two of them slowly started to engage in more friendly conversation. Mingyu still had his guard up around Jaebum, but as ever, he dealt with it well and made sure to stay calm for your sake.

It was definitely awkward for you being between the two of them, both of them were good at pushing each other’s buttons without even realising that they were doing it. But thanks to you being there, they managed to get through their first meeting reasonably unscathed.

As the evening began to draw in, Mingyu glanced out of the window before clearing his throat. “I’ve got a meeting soon, so I should probably leave you both to it.”

“Are you sure?” Jaebum asked, but you knew he was only being polite.

Mingyu nodded, standing up from the sofa, pulling you into a huge before bowing across at Jaebum. “I’m sure it won’t be too long until we see each other again, until then, please make sure that you look after her properly.”

As soon as you shut the door on Mingyu, you turned around to face Jaebum, muttering several apologies to him in embarrassment for how Mingyu had handled himself. Jaebum’s arms wrapped around you, kissing the top of your head.

“He just cares Y/N,” he chuckled gently, “even if I’ve never been questioned like that before, I don’t think he hates me. So, that’s a good start.”

“He usually hates all my boyfriends.”

“Let’s think of this as a positive then.”

Your head nodded, walking back across to the sofa to sit yourself down. “I’ve always known that he’s worried a lot for me, but that was too much. I don’t know how you managed to get through that with a smile on your face.”

His eyes glanced across at you, “I did it for you, the last thing I wanted to do was cause a scene, especially towards your best friend. If he was anyone else, I really don’t know if I would have been able to bite my tongue as well as I did just then.”

“Thank you for making such a huge effort with him,” you whispered across to him.

“Of course, I want all of this to work, for us.”

---

Masterlist

[one-boring-person]

You forced this upon yourself😂 you forced this rambo simp.(and i dont mind)

Okay this may not be as good! But! Im giving you the liberty to take it where you want!(because i love your little details and how you express the feeling in your writing i- AH! Its great. I cant say it enough, it’s great. I mean it.)

How about Rambo finally getting enough courage to show The rancher around the tunnels, in a date sort of way!(they don’t know thats actually where he lives. Aka that photo i showed you before.) i really saw how the rancher was so happy to have him at their house, I’d love to see rambos side of scheduling a house tour and date type deal!! Maybe him even sitting and showing the rancher through all his old photos, and them just in awe because wow. He’s so much cooler than they even thought! He just so nervous and surprised seeing them so interested in him after all this time alone, and them just- in awe of him.

( i also really think it would be funny seeing rambo go through his friends house and seeing-“why the hell you have so many plants???” And just. Adorable assassin living with a wholesome and loving hardworking s/o)

Ah! Im sorry if that’s not as good!! But hey, you feel free to describe their antics and relationship as you will!!

I think I may have run a bit with this, but I hope you like it regardless!😊💛

I've Got Your Back, You've Got Mine.

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x reader

Warnings: mention of death, mention of war, mention of injury, mention of PTSD, mention of violence, (possible flash warning for gif?)

Masterlist

The heavy knock on the door surprises me where I'm sitting, the sharp sound snapping me from my thoughts. Looking over at it from my position at the table, I frown and set down my spoon, standing to go answer, unsure of who it is: I'm not expecting anyone today. Colt looks up from his place on the floor, the dog just as curious as I am as to whom it may be, though he doesn't bark, so it must be someone we know. He watches me as I cross the room, going straight to the door.

Opening it, I'm somewhat surprised to see my neighbour, John, standing there, a tentative smile on his face as he looks me over appreciatively, his gaze drawing a blush to my face. 

"Mornin' (Y/n)." He greets, rough voice friendly as he waits for me to let him in.

"Morning John." I smile back, delighted to see him, "What can I do for you?"

I step back, waiting for him to enter, which he does so with a nod of thanks.

"Since when have I needed a reason to see you?" The veteran chuckles, the sound reverberating within me, my brain subconsciously storing the action away for later recall. Gently, John moves into my space, one hand coming to lightly rest on my hips as the other cups my face, drawing me in for a slow kiss. 

Kissing back, I feel a glow of happiness flare up in me at this contact: he's never really one to initiate touch like this, so it's a whole lot more intimate when he does. Relaxed, I loosely wrap my arms around his neck, languidly caressing his dark hair as our lips move together. 

Being the killjoy he often loves to be, Colt pushes in between us, nosing at John's leg, tail wagging enthusiastically as he recognises the familiar man, the dog as fond of his company as I am. Chuckling, John and I pull apart, looking down at the large canine between us, the dark eyes staring up at us imploring us to pay attention to him. Still smiling, John lowers a hand to scratch Colt's head, ruffling his floppy ears a little as the dog instantly allows his mouth to hang open, tongue lolling in content.

"Hey, Colt." The veteran greets, biting back a laugh as the dog pushes me out of the way, nudging at John's stomach.

"He never gets that excited to see me." I complain jokingly, standing back to watch the two interact, a smile playing at my lips.

"Sure he does." John replies, eyes fixing on mine with an expression of fondness, one that had me weak at the knees.

"He really doesn't, he just sits in the corner and whines at me until I feed him. Isn't that right?" I address the dog himself, giving him a light slap on the rear, his ridiculous height meaning I can quite easily reach it, "Anyhow, did you need something? Or did you just come here to kiss me? I can't say I'll complain if that's the case."

Cheekily, I wink at the veteran, leaning back against a nearby counter.

"As nice as that sounds, it's not the reason I came by." He chuckles, blushing lightly, "Though that does sound good."

Grinning, I nod my agreement, only now taking in his body language: he's nervous. His hands fidget, rubbing his fingers over scars and lines on his palms, and he shifts from foot to foot every now and then, small tells he's never quite managed to hide from me.

"Is something up?" I ask him, slightly more serious this time, unnerved by his discomfort.

"No, no, not at all. I, err, well, I just wanted to ask you something." He rubs the back of his neck, head tilted to the side as he regards me, dark eyes fixed on mine.

"Ok, go for it." I prompt him, curiosity sparking my interest.

"Well, do you wanna come to mine? I mean properly, like in the house." John cocks his head to the side, lowering his arm again.

Blinking, I feel shock flood my system, before it turns to unbelievable happiness that he's trusting me enough to come into his private space. Initially, I can't find the right words, somehow struggling to respond, until I find my tongue again.

"I would love to, John." I agree, features lighting up as my mood brightens, "There's nothing I've really got to do today except train up one of the younger horses, so I've got as long as you want after that."

"Great. Is four o'clock alright?" The veteran smiles broadly, though he still looks somewhat nervous.

"Yeah, should be. I'll be there." I promise him, taking up my Stetson from the table as I briefly turn away to put away the plate I was using, having lost my appetite in my sudden excitement.

"I'll get it tidy." He says, looking around the room again, "I'll never understand why you have so many plants in your house. It's like a damn jungle."

At his comment, I laugh loudly, glancing around at the variety of different houseplants I have placed on various shelves, the greenery practically covering every available surface. 

"Because it's way too dry to grow anything like this outside all the time. Anyway, they look nice." I shrug, calling Colt to my side as I follow John from the house, grabbing my jacket from the hook as I pass.

"But why so many?" 

Once again, I shrug, following him over to a nearby post, where he's hitched Bandit, the horse I gave him a few months ago. The buckskin stallion paws at the ground, his pale coat looking as clean as ever even as he noses at the dust, the dark colouring around his eyes (the reason for his name) and legs standing out much more in the bright sun. As we approach, he looks up, snorting in greeting.

"He's looking good." I acknowledge, admiring the strong stallion appreciatively - I had reared Bandit from a foal, before I had given him to the veteran as a gift four months ago, hoping it will help him to grow his own ranch. My plan had worked, and John now has four horses, including Bandit, as well as a couple of other animals, such as a cow, a pig and five chickens. I'd sold him a couple of goats as well, but we soon found out that John and goats just didn't get along. At all.

"Yeah, he's doing well, too. Takes the training very well, too." John runs a hand through the stallion's dark mane, untying the reins.

"That's good. Reckon he'll be ready for a competition soon?" 

"Should be." 

Snorting again, Bandit pulls at the reins, clearly eager to get going, especially as Colt moves up to sniff at the horse's back legs. I quickly whistle him over, knowing Bandit has always been shifty around the dog.

"I'll see you at four then." I finally say, unwilling to say goodbye, even if it is only for a few hours.

"Yeah, see you then." John smiles, leaning in to kiss me again, keeping it brief this time, leaving me wishing for more, as he always does.

"See ya." I grin, watching him climb into the saddle, still somehow fluid in doing so despite his age. 

Gathering the reins in hand, John adjusts himself in the saddle, before he smiles down at me again as he gently urges Bandit into motion. Obediently, the stallion moves into a swift trot, which turns into a faster canter as the two move off down the driveway, heading towards the split in the fence separating our land. I watch as they go, still finding myself enraptured by the sight of the muscular man sat astride the horse, Colt eventually snapping me from my mind as he barks at me. Shaking my head, I follow him towards the stable.

Hours later, having showered and cleaned up, I feel a sense of relief go through me as I hoist myself into the saddle secured into place on Leo's back. It's relaxing, the stallion beneath me more relaxed than the youngster I've been trying to train all day: she never gave me a break. Seemingly sensing this, as he always does, Leo flicks his ears back and nickers softly, very lightly pawing the ground as I give him a pat on the neck, glad to have a more reliable horse taking me where I need to be.

Tilting back my Stetson, I take the reins in hand and ease the stallion into a trot, intending to let him pick up his own pace, my trust in this horse far greater than in the mare from before. Obediently, Leo moves into the correct gait, the two of us moving as if as one, years of riding together having made it easy for us to become in tune with each other. Together, we start off down the road towards John's ranch, the new path we've created beaten and well-used, allowing for relatively easy riding. Leo's hooves pound the dry ground rhythmically, my hips moving in time with his every stride, the relaxing movement helping to calm the nerves that have sprung up inside me.

A part of me is still unconvinced about going into John's home. Yes, I had helped him rebuild it and had seen very little of the inside rooms, but it still feels as if I'm intruding upon the veteran's safe space, his reprieve from the cruelty of the world he lives in. Something about that doesn't sit right with me, but I tell myself it's John's decision to make, not mine, so I should trust him, which I do, wholeheartedly. 

I'm still torn by the time I reach the main house, where John is already sat waiting for me in his rocking chair, dark eyes fixed on me as I approach. Lifting a hand to him, I smile and slow Leo to a halt, praising the horse as I climb down, the gray stallion nosing affectionately at me. Swiftly, I tie him to a nearby post, only to stop when John calls out to me.

"Put him in the stable for the night." He instructs me, gesturing for me to follow him as I try to fight back the sudden onslaught of racing thoughts at his implications: he wants me to stay the night?

"Sure, thanks." I smile back at him, walking after him with Leo in tow.

"Don't worry about it. It's not fair on him if he has to stay out all night." John waves me off with a short grin, "How'd training go?"

I groan.

"Not great. That horse has it in for me, I swear." I complain, rubbing at my arm, remembering the moment I got the new bruise forming there.

"Oh yeah?" He muses, looking amused.

"Yeah. She threw me off eight times!"

"Eight times? Wow, must be a new record." The veteran jokes, something that stirs up the familiar fondness inside me at his more personable behaviour.

"I reckon so. Painful one to set, though, I'll tell you." I remark, smiling broadly as we enter the stable, where I quickly house Leo next to Bandit, removing his tack and other gear.

"Must be." John watches me work, leaning against the door to the large building, muscular arms crossed over an equally muscular chest. Turning back to him, I have to stop and admire the bulging of his biceps as his hands grip his forearms, the veins I've come to love laying out a pattern on the tanned limbs. Everytime I see them, I imagine his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me safe and secure against his solid body, wishing I could feel his hands splayed against me more often.

"Like what you see?" John interrupts my thoughts, voice teasing as he lifts an eyebrow at me, almost smirking at me.

Blushing furiously, I avert my gaze, lifting a hand to gently tap the brim of my Stetson out of my vision.

"You know I do." I laugh nervously, before I look back up at him, "Anyway, since when do you use pickup lines?"

"Since I figured out they get you all flustered." His playful tone is new to me, though it's gone almost as soon as I see it, his guarded expression falling back into place as he returns within himself, probably thinking he overstepped some invisible boundary.

I still can't help stammering for a response, his gruff tone awakening something within me.

"Heh, I guess you're right." I stutter, going over to him.

Nodding, he keeps his expression straight, leading me out back to the house, where he quickly welcomes me inside.

"I tried to tidy it as much as possible, but it's still a bit messy." The veteran apologises, observing the interior of his home critically, even as I do so in awe.

The rooms, from what I can see, are mostly filled with sparse furniture, a few chairs here and there, an old sofa, a couple of vanities and dressers, with a mantlepiece in most, if not all, of them. He hasn't used much colour, but what he has used is tasteful and works well with the overall appearance. The walls, however, are what really draw me into the place.

They are littered with photographs and memorabilia, frames and objects cleaned and polished so they shine brightly in the afternoon sun, many smiling faces visible in them. Curious, I go over to one wall, looking over the array of pictures, which I now recognise to be images of John and his friends from the years he spent here. Amongst them is a creased black and white photo of a young John sat astride a horse not unlike Bandit, a broad grin on the boy's face as he stares at the camera from under a mop of thick black hair. I can feel a small smile creep onto my face at the sight of the veteran looking so happy and carefree, something I've not seen very much of at all in my time around him.

"That was my first horse, Hector. I had him until I left for the army." John says from behind me, sounding somewhat quiet, eyes softened from nostalgia as he stares at the picture along with me, "I loved him a lot, but my father always said he wasn't good enough."

His words hang in the air as I stay speechless, listening intently to what he's saying to me: it's the first I'm hearing about his life before he came here again.

"What happened to him? Hector, I mean." I ask him quietly, tearing my eyes away to look up at John.

The veteran shrugs, appearing somewhat remorseful.

"I'll never know, but I reckon my father sold him as soon as I was gone."

"Oh." I frown, glancing back at the photograph.

"The horse was getting old by that time, though. He probably wasn't much use." John chuckles wryly, moving away towards the stairs nearby, "Do you want to see upstairs?"

"Yeah, sure." I nod, following him as he ascends to the second floor, which I now see consists of three different rooms.

He takes me to the farthest, opening the door to reveal an old study, which looks as if it hasn't been used in a good few years.

"This was my father's study, where he did all his business. I was never allowed in here as a kid." John sweeps his arm around the room, staying by the threshold, as if abiding by a rule that no longer exists, "Not that I go in here that much as an adult."

I look around, finding the neat area interesting: images of a young John hovering by the door, waiting for his father to finish business entering my head.

"It's nice, I like it." I remark, turning to find him smiling very slightly at me.

"It's the only room in the house that's exactly as it used to be. I haven't had time to do up the others properly." John says, leaving the study and going back down the hall, where he opens the other two doors to reveal a bathroom and an empty room.

A dull curiosity flares up within me as I realise one thing about the top floor, but I easily find a solution to it, following John back down the stairs. As we go, however, I realise that my assumption is wrong, as the only other rooms down here are missing the one thing I'd expect in any house.

"Where do you sleep? I haven't seen a bed or anything anywhere." I ask him, cocking my head to the side as he takes me to one final door.

"I'm gonna show you." He smiles at me, before he opens the door.

I blink as I see the dark steps descending into the ground, unease biting at my throat as I flash John a hesitant look. A cool draft wafts up from the black depth, but John only chuckles and moves down into the space below, gesturing for me to follow.

"It's perfectly safe, don't worry." He calls to me, a light flickering on as he reaches the bottom of the steps, illuminating the path to me.

Swallowing, I gingerly step down the stairs, emerging into a tunnel of sorts, my curiosity piqued as I take in the chiselled walls around me, the rock cast in an odd light from the naked bulbs positioned along the length of the cavern. Struts of wood hold the ceiling steady, wiring hanging off of them in places where he's had to hastily put it all together. John watches as I take in the passage, a thoughtful look in place on his face.

"What is this place?" I wonder aloud, still taken aback by the oddity of having a tunnel beneath the house that stretches off in both directions.

"This is my safe space." The veteran informs me, urging me along with him as we go further into the tunnel, walking together for a minute before we emerge out into a larger room of sorts, which is well lit. 

My eyes widen as I realise exactly what he means.

The room acts as his bedroom and bathroom, and also has space to sit and relax, the whole area having a homely feel to it. What was missing in the rooms in the house can be found down here, including more photographs, though these ones seem different to the others. They adorn the walls, all except one, which is decorated with a variety of weapons, both guns and knives. Going over to it, I look over the rifles and shotguns hooked onto the wall, struck speechless as I then turn my attention to a machete, the blade honed but chipped from use, seemingly out of place as it hangs beside another, smaller hunting knife. 

Moving on, I regard the photographs, only now realising that they're military pictures, many of them containing images of a youthful John in fatigues and uniform. A smile creeps back onto my lips as I feel my eyes land on a particular image of a group of men, where I can see John standing amongst them, a triumphant grin on his face, long locks of dark hair held back by a strip of fabric around his head. The others also smile, though there's something bittersweet about the inscription at the corner of the photo: Baker Team, Vietnam. As I look past the other pictures, I notice that the team slowly dwindles, beaming faces becoming drawn and solemn, eventually just leaving two people behind. Beneath this image is another inscription: Baker Team Survivors.

"That was my team in 'Nam." John says suddenly, voice husky as he remembers the friends he had, "None of them made it back. Not really."

Eyes wide, I look back at him, taking in the distant look in his own eyes, the barely concealed grief still raw in his expression as he stares at the photographs. Noticing my gaze, John gestures for me to come sit on the edge of his bed with him, the veteran pulling another photograph from it's place on his bedside table. Doing so, I make sure I'm not touching him, but am close enough to reassure him, waiting patiently for him to start talking of his own accord, knowing that this is a sensitive subject for him.

After a moment, he starts, his voice low as he pulls me into his stories, taking me through suffocating jungles and blistering heats, through recon and rescue missions, through bloody gunfights and hellfire,  through hours spent in torturous situations. He puts me in his shoes as he loses every single member of his team to the gruesome fight he should never have fought, the harrowing grief and pain of letting go of a comrade, someone who's supposed to be by your side for as long as the two of you can stay alive, laid bare for me to see and experience. And even as he moves on, back to familiar territory in the States, the fight never leaves him.

Facing harassment in what should be his safety and security, I can feel every bit of betrayal, of anger and grief that he felt as he is let down by his own country time after time, used again and again by the authorities to do their dirty work, only to be cast aside when it doesn't go their way, the old catchphrase he once lived by, "I've got your back, you've got mine" completely meaningless in this hollow life. His disgust in humanity is plain to me as he outlines his most recent forays into warfare, where the rage he felt is once again transferred to me, and I experience the violent need to take out the parasites in the world that destroy anything good that he did. It's as if I'm there with him, through everything, his description and memories so vivid they chill me to the core, keeping me hooked on his every word.

After a long while, he eventually trails off, and I realise there's a tear rolling down his cheek, his body shaking a little as he holds himself back. My heart breaking, I have to fight the urge to reach out and pull him into an embrace, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. I place my hand on his shoulder instead, rubbing the tight muscles soothingly until he looks up at me with the most heart-rending gaze I've ever seen in my life. At that point, my resolve breaks.

Carefully, I lean in and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling the veteran towards me. He goes willingly, sobs wracking his body as he wraps his own hands around me, burying his face into my neck, tears flowing freely now as he lets himself go, each pained sound agonising to hear. Tightening my grip, I lay back onto the bed, allowing him to press his body around me, holding me against his muscular form as I rub his back, whispering soothing things to him as his breathing starts to calm a little. It takes time, but eventually he starts to relax, body going limp as he lays in my arms, his larger form awkwardly wrapped around mine as he depresses his face into the crook of my neck.

I barely hear his broken voice as he whispers to me.

"Thank you." 

Breathing in his familiar scent, I just mould myself closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as he does the same to my neck.

"I'm here for you, John. I'm here, and I'll never leave. Not as long as I live, I promise."

[harrysweasleys]

HI SKANK I LOVE YOU! could we um pls get a um flustered!george blurb like allies to lovers? idk wHATEVER YOU WANT WKJSSK I LOVE YOU

@darthwheezely HI SKANK ok so im gonna do a very different kind of allies to lovers n please im sorry if you hate it but i decided to have fun with this 🥰 (also i am sorry that this is so late.... i am still working on my 3k event yikes)

warnings: mentions of guns (laser tag), language

——

Though the laser tag room was dark, you could easily spot the way you were supposed to go. Through the tunnels, sliding alongside the walls, ducking under blocks. It was a routine at this point.

Your teammate George was nowhere to be seen, which was odd considering it usually wasn’t difficult to spot his ginger hair. Especially in a room full of black lights and neon flashes. You needed his help, considering you could hear the distant voices of Charlie and Fred headed your way. There was no doubt they’d shoot you on the spot once they saw you. Now, if only your teammate was around to back you up, that would be wonderful.

“George!” you whisper-shouted, moving behind another box but keeping your eyes peeled around the room, every movement drawing your eyes in that direction. Luckily the movements were mostly lights and mirrors, but it didn’t help the adrenaline pumping through your veins whatsoever.

“What?”

You felt his body press up against you from the side out of nowhere, his gun poking you in the back as you moved closer to duck down. A sigh of relief escaped your lips and you ducked further down.

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” you turned to face him, eyebrows raised and a smirk playing on your lips. You noticed the way his eyes widened, shaking his head.

“Gun. Definitely gun,” he let out an awkward laugh, turning his gaze away from you and back towards the pretend battlefield. You heard Ginny’s distant shout of, “you prat!” indicating that she was now out of the game.

“You sure about that?” you scoffed, nudging your hip into his as you brought your gun up, ready to aim at the chest of whoever was about to walk into the room.

George’s body was warm next to yours, almost warm enough to distract you from the aim of the game. He elbowed you in the side, causing you to let out a squeak.

“Focus on the game, yeah?” You could see the tips of his ears under the light, accenting the pink dusting that brushed across his skin.

You let out a laugh and rolled your eyes, “C’mon, how much flirting do I have to do before you ask me out on a date, Weasley?”

You had been casually flirting with George for weeks now. Maybe even months. Point is, it has been a while. And no matter how many innuendos and compliments you threw his way, he never seemed to actually take the hint. He flirted back, of course he did, but only rarely did he show any indications that he actually had plans to make a move. It was driving you up the wall, to be perfectly honest. 

“Not the time,” he gave you a quick wink, sending your heart into a flutter, before turning back to his gun, his fingers gripping the trigger lightly and ready to blast one of his siblings. You gazed at his fingers, suddenly wishing that they could be tracing your body, moving across your hipbones, anything. 

Before you could respond, Fred made his way into the doorway, immediately finding himself with a blast straight to the chest. The echoing woosh sound indicated that he was now out of the game.

“Ha!” you shouted, standing up from behind the block, finger pointing at Fred, “Gotta be sneakier next time.”

Fred dropped his arms, “That’s unfair.”

You crossed your arms and turned to your partner, grinning. The two of you had managed to eliminate Percy, Ron, Bill, and now Fred.

“We make quite a team, George,” your hand raised, meeting his in a high-five. His hand lingered against yours for a second longer, fingers brushing against your palm as he pulled away. Shivers went down your spine at the subtle contact, making you forget that Fred was in the doorway for a second.

“That we do,” he grinned down at you, moving a tad closer. You could once again feel the heat from his body, sending your heart into a summersault. 

“You guys are gross,” Fred grimaced, sticking his middle finger in your direction before making his way out of the room. You chuckled awkwardly as he left, holding up one of your hands.

“I think we only have Charlie left,” you grinned, facing George with a raised eyebrow.

He nodded, pursing his lips, and once again putting his finger on the trigger. You turned away, trying your best to focus on the task at hand and not the hands of the man standing next to you. 

You made your way through the room quietly, completely unsure of where Charlie might be lurking. You had heard him and Fred laughing moments before Fred barged into the room and was shot by George, so Charlie shouldn’t be that far behind. This place wasn’t huge but there were quite a few hiding spots, which only added to Charlie’s advantage.

Footsteps behind you caught your attention, and you spun on the spot, gun ready. Charlie stood with a smirk, gun aimed at George. So you took the shot.

Charlie’s vest echoed with the whoosh sound, little lights flickering to indicate he was now out. You had gotten used to the sound by now, but it still sent a thrill down your spine as you watched his shoulders slouch.

“Oi, d’you have cat-like reflexes or something?” he scoffed, letting his arms fall to his sides in defeat. 

You let out a shout, “We won! Bloody hell, I would make quite the soldier.”

George put his arm around you, “You really wouldn’t but your enthusiasm is cute.”

“Meet you guys outside then,” Charlie narrowed his eyes at you, shaking his head while letting out a small chuckle, “Sore winners.”

You watched Charlie’s head of hair disappear through the door and you turned to George with a large smile, clapping your hands together and placing your gun on the ground.

He gave you a wide smile before bringing his gun up and aiming the tip to your chest.

“Georgie, we’re teammates. This defeats the purpose,” you furrowed your eyebrows, looking up at him with a confused expression. Why would he go around and shoot his teammate after you guys reigned victorious?

He didn’t answer, instead opting to pull the trigger. You felt your vest vibrate as the woosh sound engulfed you. Your heart sunk in your chest and your arms fell limp at your sides.

“Oh, you git—,”

He cut you off by pushing you up against the wall behind you, dropping his weapon and placing both hands on your hips. You could barely let out a squeak before his lips were against yours.

The kiss was fiery, hot, and way overdue. His lips were soft against yours, but the action itself was in no way gentle. His hands gripped you tightly as your hands slithered up into his hair, tugging at the strands and causing a small groan to leave his lips. Your mind was blank, but it was also screaming. 

Finally, your mind shouted as you pulled his head closer to yours, having a bit of trouble breathing but so lost in his touch that you could hardly be bothered.

However, George pulled his face away from yours, breathing heavily. His hands didn’t loosen their grip on your waist, not that you were complaining. You didn’t want him to move away any more, his body felt so right pressed up against yours. Sure, it would feel better without the bulky laser tag vests, but it felt nice nonetheless.

“I won in more ways than one,” he smirked, one of his hands sneaking under your shirt and rubbing small circles against your skin.

The door to the room swung open but George hardly moved away. You were a little embarrassed that someone was about to catch you two in a somewhat compromising position, but you were too thrilled to really care at the moment. 

Until Ginny’s voice reached your ears.

“We can see everything, you two!” 

Bloody fantastic.

[sixtyeightdays]

you reap what you sow

prompt from @mialuvscats : i hope this meets your expectations ! im sorry this took so long, i tried uploading it from my phone but it glitched and i could only get my hands on the computer today 

i’d like to say that i think if sabine and mari are there, damian and talia willl be relatively looser and not as uptight . mari and sabine are cold but loving and sunshiney. they keep talia and damian in check, essentially. which is why i wrote them in to be loose and free but able to be openly happy when they want to be, even if they are only happy around each other.

with sabine here i also thinkt hat talia will be slightly easier on damian, which also ties to the fact that he will not be as cold and uptight.

talia will be a good mother in this fic bc i want her to be and itll be ooc but its okay its my fic anyway

and the timeline is kinda messed up and all over the place sorry

that aside, have fun reading and i hope you enjoy!

--

talia and sabine are best friends, and before most of the class joins francois, marinette ruled the school after coming to paris with sabine. mari and damian are betrothed and the two are best friends. they can be icy one minute and sunshiney the next, although the sunshiney part is more mari than damian.

maybe the waynes come to paris, bc if theyre in gotham the others wont really know if the queen is back, and theyre kinda unsure why marinette is being timid and very unlike her ice queen demeanor she sometimes uses. mari is closest to jason in terms of batfam because firstly maybe she cleanses jason of the lazarus pit after helping damian using tikki's creation magic to counteract plagg's destruction one. since the waynes are here theres no point in mari hiding her queen status anymore and queue lila reveal

-

Talia al Ghul and Sabine Cheng were an unlikely combination, but worked perfectly well.

The two women were extremely close. Sabine was almost as deadly as Talia, but she made up for it with her devious mindset. She was the one who steered Talia away from doing anything wrong --well more wrong than usual-- and the one who was assigned to dish out punishments to usurpers.

The two could read each other like open books, and hence, when both Talia and Sabine became pregnant, Talia one month before Sabine, the two knew immediately.

They had debated whether or not to have their kids be betrothed, and eventually decided to let their children make the final call when their kids were old enough to understand.

Nine months later, Marinette and Damian were born. In the League infirmary, an hour after the two were cleaned and left there to rest while their mothers did the same, the two had already grown rather close.

Their baby cribs were next to each other, and somehow they were staring at each other through the walls of the crib, and were making small grabby hands to the other.

When Talia and Sabine were sufficiently rested and came to pick up their children, they were slightly shocked, yet gratified by their children. Sabine smiled and draped an arm around Talia’s shoulder, smiling lazily.

“I guess they’ll be as close as their mothers, non?” 

Talia smirked, and the two walked forwards, lifting their respective children in their arms and walking to their quarters.

-

The two mothers did not regret it. Their kids were enamoured with each other, practically joined at the hip.

By the time Marinette and Damian were 5, they had a very extensive vocabulary, since they had learned to speak Arabic, French and English. They were also extremely smart and skilled with weapons. 

Marinette was extremely adept at using a yoyo. It seemed weird, I know. But when the League was stormed when she was 3, she had taken out 4 men with her yoyo alone. Since then, she had been teaching herself how to use the yoyo effectively.

Damian preferred to use a katana. He looked much scarier than Marinette, even if the two were the same age. He had found a natural talent in using blades, knives, katanas and daggers included.

Marinette was the Rain to Damian’s Fire. 

She was the only one who could calm Damian down when he was mad, mad.

But make no mistake, Marinette could switch personalities in a heartbeat. She was one of the League’s most skilled interrogators at the age of 5.

After all, who would suspect a pigtailed 5 year old in pink to be scary?

Damian much preferred his stoic and icy attitude. The only people he ever let loose around was Marinette, Sabine, and Talia.

Talia and Sabine loved the children to an almost deadly extent, and the four were extremely overprotective of each other.

Marinette had taken to magic as well. She had been trained by many people in the League about sensing magic. Damian did not have the patience for magic and rituals. 

Marinette knew Damian was more of a ‘attack first ask questions later’ type of fighter, a stark contrast to Marinette’s ‘i will curse you and you will suffer in agonising pain for the rest of your life’ preferred type of fighting.

She’d never really liked getting her hands dirty, hence the magic. Killing people with magic was so much cleaner.

Sabine and Marinette had to leave for Paris when she was 9. For what, she wasn’t sure, but regardless of the distance, she and Damian constantly traded calls and letters. They would never go even a day without contact.

They were staying with one of Sabine’s old friends. His name was Tom Dupain, and he was an old wrestler and had worked with the League before. He and Sabine pretended to be married and Marinette’s name had hence became Marinette Dupain Cheng.

Damian and Talia stayed at the League, although all of them knew that Damian was to meet his birth father when he turned 10.

Marinette adapted her icy demeanor in Paris, never wanting anyone to get as close as she was with Damian. 

A few hours in, walking around Paris, she had met an elderly man in a red Hawaiian shirt, emitting the aura of magic. She had confronted him, and eventually, he opened up to her about the Miraculous. Tikki, the Ladybug kwami, and Plagg, the Black Cat kwami had taken a liking to her.

Marinette was apparently something called a True User, a reincarnation of the first Ladybug miraculous wielder. Plagg just rather liked the aura of death and chaos she apparently gave off, from the League.

She and the other Kwamis also had a rather amicable relationship, and she’d go to the ends of the Earth for the tiny gods, and vice versa.

The elderly man, named Fu, had also started to train her into becoming the new Guardian of the Miraculous.

Before, Marinette had been planning on laying low and not drawing atention to herself, but once she had beaten up two upperclassmen for bullying her classmate and somewhat accquaintance Nino, she had been fiercely regarded by both the students and faculty. 

As a result, she eventually grew close to Nino, and his friends, Kim, Alix and Chloe. She only ever let down her icy demeanour around them, showing the bright and bubbly girl persona she kept hidden. She wasn’t as close to them as she was to Damian, but they were all still quite close friends. 

It wasn’t long after that Marinette became the queen of her school, at the tender age of 10, earning her title as the Ladybug. Or, as Chloe liked to put it, the Lady, because she was lucky enough to ‘get a friend like her’.

Marinette didn’t protest. She rather liked Ladybugs, and besides, it was ironic and it reminded her a little of Damian, who sometimes liked to call her his Maribug. Because she was sometimes a pest, he deadpanned. Marinette had whacked him with a pillow. 

Everyone in the school feared the Ladybug. No one knew anything of her past. She was a mystery, an enigma that no one could solve. When new students came in after Marinette turned 14, everyone was slightly shocked to see their Lady change.

She was much more bubbly and approachable. Word had spread around that Marinette, the Lady, was trying a clean slate for the new kids. After all, not everyone should fear her.

Probably.

School eventually returned to what it was like before Marinette became the Lady, although she did still rule the school, she did it much more subtly, with more restraint and secrecy.

One of the new kids, Alya, had taken a liking to her. Marinette did not like her  very much, she was loud and clingy and drew a lot of unwanted attention. 

Marinette and her old crew, who had playfully called themselves her Consorts before the name stuck, had split up temporarily, to cover more ground and spread their branches.

Chloe was to pretend to be Marinette’s bully, Kim and Alix rivals, and Nino a shy recluse. They had had a good laugh about it beforehand, before watching Moana, because Kim wanted to compare the size of his muscles to Maui’s.

None of them had accounted for Adrien Agreste, who had tried to get the gum off Marinette’s seat like the naive, sheltered boy he was. Marinette had admittedly gotten mad at him for screwing up a perfectly good plan, before ramping up her ice persona to like, a 2/10, to get the newbies off her scent and scare Adrien away.

It hadn’t worked, because the boy was apparently as stubborn as he was naive. But besides that, Alya had been really grating on Marinette’s nerves, especially since she was convinced that Marinette had a crush on the model. It was not true, of course. 

Honestly, Marinette thought dryly, as Alya dragged her all over the place to.. somewhere, she wasn’t even sure anymore. But frankly, she didn’t particularly care. Honestly, the only boy she’d probably ever have a crush on would be Damian.

Not that she’d ever admit it.

-

When Marinette and Damian turned 10, she and Sabine had taken a plane to Gotham to meet up with Damian.

Damian had not been having a good time. He was very much unwanted here, that was clear. 

Grayson seemed to be the only one trying to interact with him. His father, had been trying his best to stay out of Damian’s way, which he reciprocated. Todd was flat out ignoring him and Drake just seemed to be busy all the time.

After all, who would want to interact with a grumpy 10 year old assassin?

He missed Marinette.

It was the day Todd finally tried to open up to Damian, that Marinette had arrived. No one had told him that she was finally meeting him again for the first time in a year. Sabine had left Marinette to figure out where Damian was on her own. She was more than capable of it.

With a quick scrying spell, she found him, and Kaalki opened a portal headed in the direction of Wayne Manor.

Meanwhile, Damian just appreciated the fact that Todd was finally extending an olive branch. He was lonely.

It hurt seeing his father care for everyone in the manor apart from him.

He had been walking along the gardens in the manor. Todd had joined him.

“Listen, I know it’s hard to feel accepted here. Sometimes, I do.” Jason gazed wistfully at the sky above him.

Damian was unsure of where the ex-Robin was getting at, so he just kept quiet. It wasn’t as if Damian didn’t know who Jason Todd was. Before he had come to the manor with Talia, he had read the Waynes’ files. In addition, Damian had known of Jason while he was affiliated with the League. They had never talked, or interacted, but he had known of the elder boy. 

“I just, uh, wanted you to know that if you ever need anything, you can come to me.” He finished lamely, running a hand in his hair.

Damian opened his mouth, then closed it, hesitating. “Thank you, Ja--Todd. I will.” He settled on saying dryly.

Jason visibly relaxed and cracked a miniscule smile. There was a sudden ‘swoosh’ sound, and both Jason and Damian turned around, bodies automatically going on the defensive.

Stumbling out of Alfred’s rose bushes, trodding on a few accidentally, was Marinette.

“Angel!” Damian exclaimed, moving forwards to help her forwards.

She brushed her shoulders off, looking around before freezing, staring at something behind him.

“Jay?”

“Pixie?” He asked, sounding incredulous.

Marinette rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Jason laughed and hugged her back, chuckling.

Damian quashed down the bubbling feeling of rage in the pit of his stomach and settled for casting a frosty glance in their direction. Not that they noticed, since they were too busy embracing each other, Damian thought scornfully.

The two pulled apart after too long in Damian’s opinion, laughing.

“Angel? How do you know Todd?” Damian asked coldly, ever so protective.

If Jason noticed the sudden reversion to his surname instead of his first, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, he came to Paris with Lia once and I cleansed him of the Lazarus pit madness, like I did with you.” She replied.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked. Damian had forgotten about that.

“Visiting, of course!” She winked. “Now, let’s give your old man a good scare.” She pecked Damian on the cheek before vanishing. (Thanks, Trixx.)

Jason and Damian looked to each other. “Did you know she could do that?” Jason questioned. Damian shook his head before pausing.

“Wait.. how did she get into the manor?” 

The only response was the faint echo of a laugh.

-

It was time for dinner anyway, and only Damian, Jason, and Alfred knew of Marinette’s presence. Marinette had voluntary evelaed herself to the elderly butler after noticing his aura. 

It was Miraculous tainted. If Marinette could guess, he had been either one of Duusu’s, Sass’s, or Nooroo’s.

When the butler had retired to the kitchen alone, Marinette had unraveled Trixx’s magic veiling her and waved at the butler.

To hi credit, he didn’t so much as bat an eye before his eyes widened as he took her in. Marinette cut to the chase.

“Who was your kwami?” Alfred had surveyed her for a second before seemingly trusting her.  

“Duusu.” He answered.

Marinette smiled. “I’m Tikki’s.” From her perch in Marinette’s left pigtail, the red Kwami pried open the folds of her hair, waving once at Alfred before sinking back into the recesses of the bluenette’s locks.

Alfred blinked. Once. Twice. “I’m presuming you’re staying for dinner?”

Marinette beamed. “I’m gonna scare the big bat.” Alfred nodded, accepting this. Marinette clapped her hands and she disappeared again. Alfred shook his head, smiling faintly.

Conveniently, it was one of the times where everyone was there. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Rare these days, what with Dick in Bludhaven, Tim at WE, and Jason off being Jason.

Bruce was currently on his way back from WE, although it would take around half an hour. He had told everyone to start eating first. Perfect. 

After Marinette’s encounter with Alfred, she had reappeared in Damian’s room, where she and Damian caught up. Just like old times.

She had disappeared again once she left the room, and Damian wasn’t entirely sure where she went.

Alfred set the the table as per normal, which Damian and Jason noticed right away. They looked to Alfred, who merely winked before stepping back into the kitchen and laying out the food.

There was a screech of a chair as Marinette, disguised as Bruce (Trixx in her right pigtail and Tikki in the left) sat down. Dick looked startled. 

“I thought you wouldn’t be back till later!” Dick exclaimed.

Mari-Bruce shrugged. “Faster than I’d expected.” She answered, securing the veil of Trixx’s magic around her vocal chords, making her voice sound exactly like Bruce’s.

Jason inched away slightly from Bruce, though she pretended not to notice.

Alfred nodded at her as he reentered the room.

Everyone dug in, occasionally talking. It had been about 25 minutes before the sound of the door opening could be heard. Damian and Jason’s head shot up, thinking it was Marinette.

Mari-Bruce smirked. Showtime.

Bruce entered the room, not noticing Mari at first. Until the batboys gaped at him. He looked confused. What--?

Mari-Bruce was a pretty great actress. “Who are you?” She thundered, internally laughing.

“Who are you? I’m Bruce Wayne.” He answered, looking befuddled and frustrated.

“Impostor.” Mari-Bruce accused. 

Bruce spluttered. “No! I’m the real Bruce!” 

Mari-Bruce scoffed. “That’s what an impostor would say.”

Damian and Jason seemed to figure it out, although they probably weren’t sure which Bruce was the real one yet.

Tim rubbed his eyes. “Am I seeing double, or?” 

Bruce said, “Ask me something the real Bruce would know.”

Dick looked torn, but did as requested. “Who murdered your parents?”

“Joe Chill.” They both said at the same time. Mari-Bruce and Bruce winced, selling the act.

“When’s my birthday?” Tim asked. 

“July 17th.” Both Bruces answered.

Tim looked surprised. “You actually know my birthday?”

“No shit, Tim.” Mari-Bruce said, rolling their eyes. She rather wanted to proceed to the next part of her plan. 

“Would I say that to you, Tim?” Bruce asked slightly desperately. 

“Maybe?” 

Bruce facepalmed. In the confusion, Mari took the chance to slink into the shadows where she rewrapped Trixx’s invisible magic around her.

Only Damian noticed. He smirked. “Where did he go?” He asked, placing a hand on the hilt of his katana for emphasis. He didn’t see Marinette smile at him.

Everyone looked panicked. “Search the manor.” Bruce ordered.

Jason still looked slightly skeptical but did as he said. Damian drew his katanas and tilted it in the direction he was going.

Amongst everyone, Bruce was the most attacked. While Jason and Damian paired off, Tim and Dick did as well, ("Don’t go alone!” Was Bruce’s admonished cry), Bruce had gone alone. 

If she were being honest, Marinette had always had a grudge against the billionaire. He hadn’t saved his son, he had tried to kill his son, even though he had a no killing rule --which Marinette thought was plain stupid--, and he had left Damian to suffer at the hands of Ra’s Al Ghul.

Talia could only do so much to save her son.

Yes, Marinette was aware that Bruce hadn’t know Damian existed, but now he was still treating Damian as if he didn’t exist. Marinette knew how much Damian craved affection, even if he never admitted it.

Yes, maybe Bruce was getting better, but maybe she could.. spur the process.

So Marinette retaliated in one of the many ways she knew how.

Messing with them.

So when the Waynes regrouped in the dining room, Jason, Damian, Dick and Tim came back unharmed, and Jason had been filled in by Damian of his suspicions. But Bruce? 

He came back covered in honey and feathers, drenched with water and covered in pink slime. 

“Why is he going after me?” Bruce had questioned in that annoying voice of his, after looking over his spotless sons.

Jason shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t like you. God knows he’s not the only one.” 

Bruce looked slightly hurt but Jason didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Maybe this person is infatuated with you and is vying for your attention.” Damian deadpanned dryly. Marinette had smacked him on the back of his head, still invisible.

But the damage had been done.

Bruce snapped his fingers and ‘aha!’-ed at Damian. “That must be it!” Bruce crowed.

“Are you that narcissistic, you arrogant plebeian?” Marinette’s normally cheery voice was dry and dripping with distaste as she unwrapped her magic.

Bruce, Dick and Tim immediately went on the defensive, shifting into a battle stance. Marinette only scoffed.

“If I wanted to harm you, I would have already done so.” Marinette waved a hand in their direction dismissively.

Dick looked confused. “You’re like, ten.” He pointed out.

Damian glared. “I am ten as well, Grayson.” 

Tim butted in. “Are we not going to acknowledge the fact that this tiny ten year old broke into the manor unnoticed?” 

That brought everyone to their senses.

They were suddenly surprised by Marinette running at Jason, full speed. They expected him to duck or whip out a weapon, but all he did was stand still as she flipped in midair to land on his shoulders.

To their utter shock, Jason grinned, even as she fisted her hands in his hair for a better grip.

Damian only smiled fondly at his Angel. She was as short as he remembered, Damian noted. 

He missed her. More than anything.

Marinette beamed, and slid off Jason’s shoulders.

“Why did you attack me?” Bruce asked.  “Isn’t it obvious, fool?” Marinette revamped her icy demeanor and glared at the civilian Batman. “I despise you.”

Bruce looked very affronted. But Mariinette ignored him, even as he continued talking and made her way over to Damian.

“Damibear!” Marinette sang, as if she hadn’t seen him less than an hour ago.

The Waynes looked as if they expected Damian to attack her just for calling him that. They were not expecting him to grin and say, “Angel.”

Mari jumped on his back, and Damian merely repositioned himself accordingly, used to this from all her previous piggybacks.

“Okay so Jason and Damian helped her get into the manor.” Tim deduced, only to notice Jason and Damian shaking their heads.

“All by herself.” Damian and Jason chorused. Marinette made bunny ears on top of Damian’s head.

She kissed Damian’s forehead lovingly, replying to his ‘i am older than you’ with a ‘yeah by like a week’, and looked to his family. 

She winked.

Then disappeared.

There was silence, and then, “Wait, we didn’t even get her name!” From Dick.

Damian and Jason were interrogated that night, and they refused to tell them anything related to Marinette.

Marinette smiled from where she had hidden in the shadows, and made her way back to Damian’s room. She curled up in Damian’s bed, drifting into sleep. She was almost asleep when Damian returned.

And when Damian pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered, “Goodnight, Angel”, a smile made her way onto her lips.

By the time Damian had slipped into bed with her, her head leaning comfortably on his chest, she had fallen asleep.

-

When the two turned 15, Talia and Sabine sat them down and told them about the betrothal. Damian had been visiting with Talia.

It had been almost two months since Lila had turned her classmates against her, not that she cared, of course. She still had her Consorts after all.

“Marinette, Damian, we’d like to tell you something. An offer? Of sorts. I’m relatively sure you will accept, however.” 

Talia smiled as Marinette dragged a grumpy Damian over to them by the head, beaming brightly.

“Oh come on, Mian! Don’t be such a grumpy banana.” Marinette reprimanded the older boy who was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

The boy only smiled lazily, and ran another hand through his best friend’s hair, the girl making a small noise of protest. “Thats what you get for calling me a noodle, Angel.” (if you didn’t know miàn means noodle in chinese)

Sabine cleared her throat but looked at the two with amusement clear in her eyes.

They straightened. “Sorry, maman,” Mari muttered.

“Now, before you two were born, Sabine and I had an agreement. We are perfectly fine with this and the implications of it, so it is up to you to whether to accept or not.” Talia got straight to the point.

The two children looked to each other curiously before turning back to their parents. Damian nodded in acknowledgment and Sabine picked up where Talia left off.

“How do you feel about each other?” Sabine asked, watching the two closely for their reactions.

“If that’s your way of asking us if we’re okay to be siblings, since you and Lia are dating, Maman--” Marinette started but was quickly interrupted by a barely noticeably flushed Talia.

“No, not that, and we aren’t dating, Nette.” Talia aimed a playful glare at the girl, who grinned and blew a raspberry at her.

“How would you and Damian like to be betrothed?” Sabine asked, smiling at her friend and daughter fondly.

Marinette spluttered and Damian coughed. 

Talia and Sabine burst out into laughter.

After the adults got their laughter under control and after a few glares from their kids, Damian spoke up.

“Marinette is my best friend. If I had to be betrothed to anyone, I’m glad it’s her.” Damian looked away and Marinette coughed awkwardly into her elbow.

“You misunderstand us. You don’t have to be betrothed. The choice is yours.”

Damian felt slightly attacked. He really did like Marinette, and the betrothal was an easy excuse to ask her out (even if he was a 15 year old). He didn’t know if Marinette felt the same way, and he didn’t want to impose that on her, so he kept quiet.

Marinette, who was looking deep in thought, answered.

“Can I talk to Damian for a while, privately?”

Damian, despite his better judgement, winced. This was probably the first time in a really long time that Marinette called him by his full name. It was normally Dami, Damibear to annoy him, or some other weird nickname like Mr Grumpy Banana this morning.

Regardless, the bluenette hadn’t called him “Damian” for a very long time. Two years, maybe.

She walked out of the room, Damian trailing slightly behind, before stopping a few feet outside the room.

Marinette slid down onto the floor, her back pressed against it and head in her hands. Damian frowned. He didn’t want his best friend looking so.. dejected. He ignored the slight pang of hurt that the thought of being with him could get this kind of reaction out of her.

He sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder like he always did when any of them felt upset. He was happy to feel her lean into his side like she always did. 

She turned her head and buried it in Damian’s side, breathing in his comforting scent of paints and nature. He tightened his hold on her ever so slightly and she almost burst into tears.

It wasn’t that she was opposed to being in an engagement with Damian, it was just that she didn’t particularly want to be with anyone or love anyone, especially after her father died and Damian’s father abandoned him.

Her mother and aunt didn’t show it, but they were sad about their fathers. She had heard Talia interacting with her ‘beloved’ before, and it almost always ended up in tears or frustration. (Not that Mari blamed her, Bruce was kind of an asshole.)

She felt Damian’s chin press into her scalp and a hint of a smile grazed her lips. But this was Damian. Damian who was her best friend. Damian who supported her no matter what. Damian who comforted her and was there for her whenever she needed it.

Damian would never hurt her. And she was determined never to hurt him, ever, if she could help it.

She looked up and smiled at Damian. The smile he loved so much, the smile she always had on whenever she saw him, the smile that would unconsciously fly to her lips whenever she heard his voice.

Maybe it was then that Marinette should’ve known that she loved her best friend, but then again, she was only fifteen. She didn’t know what love was. But she would. Very soon.

“We accept.” Damian told Sabine and Talia when they reentered the room.

“We thought you would.” Talia replied.

-

When Marinette turned 16, her last year at Francois Dupont, six months since she’d made Lila’s time a living hell with her Ladybug (both in suit and in school), and fashion clients connections, the Waynes had visited.

Turns out, Damian and Jason got caught trying to sneak onto the Wayne private jet but instead of stopping them, they insisted they came along too, having pieced together that Damian and Jason were going to visit the mysterious tiny girl they couldn’t find the name of.

So they had no choice.

And os that leads to now, with the Waynes standing in the courtyard, elicting a growing crowd as they waited for Marinette, looking the part of scary rich people that can end your life without a problem.

Damian suddenly started running, and he hugged a girl. No one could see who the girl was because her head was buried in Damian’s chest and his body was shielding hers.

Not many people in the courtyard was surprised when they pulled away and standing there was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all, she was one of the most successful students in class that didn’t get fame from famous relatives. No, al her fame was hers alone.

In fact, the only people surprised were Marinette’s class, not-so-fondly referred to as the Akuma Class.  Her Consorts were the only one who knew of her betrothed, Damian. Other than that, Marinette had never been willing to share. 

When Marinette saw the other Waynes however, after hugging Jason, she rolled her eyes. Bruce, Dick and Tim stalked forwards, looking every inch the scary billionaires they were.

It was broken by Dick hugging the girl and gushing over how cool she was. Tim smiled at her and she had smiled back. Marinette flipped Bruce the bird.

“Why are you... so sunny? You definitely weren’t like that when you threatened us in Gotham. You were such an ice queen.” Tim mentioned, failing to keep the amusement out of his tone.

“What do you mean? Marinette’s always been like that, even if she is a bitch now. There’s no way she can be cold.” Alya remarked snidely.

Alix and Chloe stalked forward, raising thier fists threatningly. But Marinette only laughed coldly.

“You wanna see cold, Cesaire?” Marinette snarled, dropping all acts of being nice. 

The Lady was back. Publicly.

The silence was interrupted by Rose, who asked, "But Lila, don't you know the Waynes?"

Said Lila had been trying to slink away unnoticed, but when her name was mentioned, all attention diverted back to her, effectively keeping her in place. Her pale face and scared eyes were enough to tell that she had indeed been lying. 

Yells and screams broke out across the courtyard as the Akuma Class berated Lila for lying to them all this while. Until, Marinette interrupted, face set in a ice cold, stony position 

"Okay, blame her for lying." She started. "But why did you believe her?" 

The Akuma Class drew a blank and didn't respond. Partially because they didn't know what to say, and partially because Marinette's mere presence was overwhelmingly intimidating. Marinette sighed and pressed on. 

"Everything the Liar has said can be found faulty by a simple internet search." It was true, and the class knew it. When no one replied, Marinette shook her head sardonically. "You reap what you sow." 

She turned to her betrothed. In an instant, her icy mood was gone, replaced with the sunshiney-ness the Akuma Class had grown used to. 

"C'mon, Dami!" She gave him a quick peck on the lips, hoisting herself up on Damian's back. Damian grasped her legs tightly, as she continued to be piggybacked by him. 

"Onward!" She cried out dramatically, pointing to the school exit. 

Damian only rolled his eyes fondly at his beloved, steering themselves out, her Consorts and his family behind them. 

None of them looked back. 

If they did, they would've seen the expressions of disbelief and regret etched onto every one of her old classmates' faces. 

Not that they would care.

-

5k words yay

also uh yeah again, sorry this took so long, i kept hitting a mental block while writing this and it didnt manage to upload from my phone for no good reason :( 

but anyway its up now, i hope u find this acceptable! :)

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Saved

Summary- 2.6k Bucky x You. Based on a ASK from anon-Hella Bi Bitch. Hydra tramautized you and you go to Bucky for comfort. Angst/Fluff. Also written for @jtargaryen18​ 4k Challenge. 

“Sweetheart. They are not coming.” Brock leered over your face, his hot breath washing over you, and it was almost impossible to miss the leer in his brown eyes as he cupped your face. If you had the capabilities, you would jerk away, but you were strapped down. All over, even your head was strapped flush to the hard metal table. The only thing you would do that would be satisfactory was work your mouth, draw up that last bit of spittle you had left and spat at him, making him curse while jerking back. 

It would be worth the pain he would cause next, knowing that at least he couldn't break you, just tie you down. Captain would be here soon, Iron Man, Natasha, Bucky… someone, someone would come for you. 

Brock retaliated by slamming an open palm across your face, biting back a cry, a burst of blood interrupted from your nose, racing down your face. 

As parched as you were, you welcomed the hot iron taste swarming your mouth, even through the pain. 

“Rumlow! You will step away from the girl. We need her.” 

Dread filled you as his face went from rage, to a cold smirk, pulling away from you. “Don't worry sweetheart, once they are done breaking you, you and I are going to do great things.” 

Your eyes flickered to the Hydra Agent, laying out his supplies, tools of pain and vials of poison to flood your system. Nauseated, you looked back up to the ceiling, and squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your mouth shut. Tears welled up, you would probably be gone, dead before the team would find you. It was what you hoped for now. 

You would rather die then let them turn you evil. Wasn't there a saying? You either die a hero or turn into a villian. You prayed, prayed for death instead. 

A year you were tested on, preyed on until you became a shell. Moved from base to base, handled by various people. None had a shred of kindness, and Brock especially took joy in your torture. 

He was able to use the various instruments, had access to your cell whenever he wanted. Your personal bodyguard, your personal hell. In these times you sink away from yourself, your body started to work on their command, your mind an empty shell of your former self. Intelligent? Yes, but yourself, no. 

It wasn't complete yet, there was still a shred of you left. Holding on, barely. 

Your rescue happened one sunny afternoon, but you weren't to ever know this. You were deep underground, away from air and light. They had just dumped you in your cell when there coms went off. To weak to pay attention to the Hydra agents fear as they hurriedly locked you in, you crawled to your cot and folded yourself onto it. Another day of survived hell. Squeezing your eyes shut, you really just wished for it to end. At this point in any manner. So much pain. To much.

Alone for a while, you start to drift off into nothingness when metal on metal jolted you awake with a terrified whimper. You heard the clang on your bars and lifted your head up to see Bucky trying to see who was curled up on the cot. 

“B-b-bucky?” You eased up slowly to make sure you weren't seeing things, and then right next to him Steve stepped up, flipping his shield to hang on his back. 

“Doll, we finally found you.” Bucky exclaimed with relief, grasping the bars and wrenching them as hard as he could, the metal whining in protest, but it wasn't strong enough to hold him back from what he wanted. 

Steve kept a watch of Bucky's six, speaking into the com at his ear. “We got her, Bucky is collecting Y/N now, have the jet ready Clint. Nat, you just about done? Sam, cover us when we come up."

“Five more seconds and data is secure, Tony can blow this hell hole to dust.” 

Bucky's arm went around you for support as you went to stand, sore from earlier, he saw you hobble forward and he swept you up. 

“Just faster this way Doll, come on Steve. Before Stark gets trigger happy.” Bolting for the nearest set of stairs, everything became a blur as Bucky and Steve bolted from the building. Hiding your face in Buckys shoulder, you never did see that sunny afternoon. 

A shadow passed over Bucky and Steve bolting across the ground, and when you glanced up, lifting your head off Buckys shoulder, the flash of red and silver covered out the blue sky above, and you smiled to yourself, between Sam, Steve and Bucky, you were safe. Exhaustion dipped your head back to Buckys shoulder.

It wasn't long till you were back at Stark Towers, which hadn't been your home in a year. Bucky carried you down into the medic bay with Sam close by. The rest of the team went to debrief on the mission, knowing you were taken cared of. Bucky easily set you down on the table, hovering nearby, he seemed hesitant to leave you, you who were so quiet, so shut down. Sam hovered close by, his jaw clenched. Quiet at well. Not knowing what to say or do, You just stared at the floor till Bruce came in. 

“Give us some privacy Bucky? I need to give her a full examination.” Bruce said softly, and your eyes welled up with tears, hiding away from them both. Bucky shook his head in refusal. “I'm not leaving her alone.” 

“Okay, but on the other side of the curtain, if Y/N needs you, she will call you.” Bruce looked over at you to confirm that was okay, and you nodded, still unable to look at any of them. Your shame and fear pounding at you. Sam clasped Buckys forearm, nodding his head to the door. "We will just be on the other side." When Bucky stepped on the other side, you could see the worried look flashing across his face, somewhat in recgonition to your pain. Sam gave you a slight nod, and a smile of encouragement.

Why couldnt you be stronger? 

The start of your recovery was rough, locked in your room a lot. It took some time for you to open back up to the team. Bring a sense of normalcy to you again. Your normal for the past year has been to be tortured. Everyday life was a lot. Things so simple, like going to get a glass of water, took all your willpower to do. The team, they did everything they could to make it easier.  Natasha and Clint immediately made you a part of their movie nights. At first you would sit stiffly away from them, not wanting to be touched by anyone. But soon you loosened up. Curling up against Clint while his arm draped over you, your feet in Natasha’s lap while she painted your nails. “How are the nightmares Y/N?” Natasha would ask, and you could feel Clint tighten his arm around you slightly, listening. It was no secret, your nightmares were a nightly occurrence, often waking up screaming and trying to hide somewhere in the room. 

“They are fine, fewer and fewer every day.” You lied, covering your shame. 

Steve, you often went with Steve out for walks where he would find some subject to draw. You would lay in the sun, while your friend sketched away at some piece of nearby building, sometimes a landscape. Once he even did you while you were sitting a bit away, catching your profile watching the clouds above. Often you two would sit in easy silence, not needing to have long intense conversations, you were just happy to be with your friend. Once in a while you would ask him. “Steve, you think I can join the team soon?” 

The blonde man would hum, and his blue eyes would shift over towards you a moment before going back to his paper. “Y/N, don't rush it. You were there for a year. I'm not putting you in the field before you're ready. Here, what do you think?” He would flip his pad around and of course it was his way of saying, No. Not Now. Maybe not ever.

Sam often had you over to his apartment to help with meals. You figured it was to make sure you were eating properly. At least one square meal. When you asked him, he scoffed. "Actually taking these cooking classes, I make enough for two. Lets face it, your better company then I could ask for. Besides Steve and Bucky are not adventurous like you. They wanna boil everything." Sam snorted, stiring his jambalaya. "Chop this up." He said quickly, handing you a knife. You always felt safer with something, Sam noticed this the first time you joined him, and you flinched when he drew out a butchers blade. From then on, you were set on chopping duties. You began to really look forward to cooking nights with Sam.

"No girlfriends to have cooking dates with?" You would tease when you set to chopping and Sam would give you that grin of his.

"Sure, I just test them on you first Precious. Gotts make sure they are decent enough to feed to others."

"Yea, I'm real Precious if your using me as a gineau pig." You stick your tongue out st your friend, but secretly you don't mind.

Tony, he was more energetic. Often you would be sitting down in his workshop, laughing at his attempts to improve the Ironman suit. It became a habit to keep a fire extinguisher nearby. “Tony, I don't think you should try this.” You said warily as he put on his new thruster boots. “Aww come on, what's the worst that can happen?” He grinned, and winked. 

He ended up shooting around the room like a balloon just untied, crashing into walls and bouncing off the floor. When he finally came to a stop, his feet were on fire. 

Jumping down with the extinguisher, you yelled “Tony!” and covered him with the foam, once it ended and the billionaire blinked it away, swiping the foam off his face. 

“I had it under control Y/N.” 

“Sure you did.” You squirted him one last time to retaliate before putting it away, and holding your hand out to him, helping him up. 

“Payback Y/N, payback.” Tony glared before pulling you into a hug, getting you covered to. At first it was fine, until you didnt feel Tony anymore and you struggled. Tony immediately let go, and you covered your face in shame. “Im sorry, I'm so sorry Tony.” He shook his head and gently grasped your wrist just enough to uncover your face. “Y/N, it's okay to feel like that. I should have asked first.” You gave an apologetic smile and he winked. The good thing with Tony was that he moved on from your attacks like they never happened, and for that you were forever grateful to your friend.

Bucky, he was the only one that you would find wandering late at night, like you were. When everyone else was fast asleep, you would be pacing the tower, afraid of sleep. It would happen, eventually. Your body would give into its demands, and you would go under into your nightmares. But until that happened though, you found ways to distract yourself. Sometimes it was video games on mute, you would bake muffins for the teams breakfast, get lost in Tony's library he allowed you access to. It was in these wanderings you found Bucky, bumping into him in random places. 

Eventually you two started to really get to know each other. Your late nights would be spent together. You opened up more and more, talking about what Hydra and Brock did to you during that year, Bucky making similar confessions while you two sat outside, away from the confines of the building. Quite a few times you both watched the sun start to come up far off to the east, and Bucky's arm would settle over you while your head tipped onto his shoulder. 

“Buck, I don't know if I will ever just be okay. Steve doesn't seem to think so.” 

“Doll, I came back from it.” He simply said, and you looked up at him, giving a half smile. 

“Your stronger than me.” 

His brow arched as he looked down at you. “That's not true. I had help, Steve, Shuri. I could have never done it alone. Why I know you will come back from this. Your not alone.” 

It gave you something to think about the rest of that day. 

You were so tired after two days going, you couldn't help but pass out, exhausted. You fell into bed in your sleep shorts and a tank, curling up while the world faded away. 

The nightmares though, flashbacks of all those times you were helpless, unable to fight back and could do nothing more than hold back your screams. It never helped, they still fell from you till you were horse from it, rolling from your bed as visions of various doctors plagued you, Hydra Agents beating on you, and Brock he was always in the darkness, watching with anticipation. When he would finally step from the shadows, you knew it wasn't just a nightmare anymore. It was hell. It was what sent you hiding while you were still sleeping. 

This night the jarring motion falling from your bed woke you, before Brock could get to you. Covering your head, you sobbed into your knees, so completely at a loss of how to fix yourself. Your shoulders shook, and you huddled there on the floor for a moment till your legs and back started to ache from being hunched over. Sniffling, you grasp the side of your bed and pull yourself to sit on the edge, wiping the tears from your face. The room felt cold. Reminiscent of your time with Hydra. No warmth, dark shadows stretching like they were reaching to claim you, in which you withdraw your feet off the floor, trying to talk yourself through what you felt was another oncoming panic attack. You had to get out of there, there was no way you could sleep in here tonight. 

Grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around your shoulders, you edge around your bed, trying not to let yourself get psyched out that Brock might be hiding in your room, he wasn't. He couldn't. It was impossible to break into Stark Towers, right? Into the living room you went, looking over your shoulder at what was your bedroom. Even your couch felt too close to the memories. 

It wasn't even a thought, you eased into the hallway and started down familiar doors. Steve, Natasha, Wanda… when you paused in front of one. It had no special markings, nothing to signify to any other that it was a special door, but for you it was. Hesitating for a second, you reached out and gave a quick rap of the knuckles, waiting. 

Bucky heard it, that quick knock knock. He never slept deeply, always aware of his surroundings, years of training and his own deep rooted fears that something was going to happen. When he opened his door to you, the blanket you had on you just about swallowed you, and your face peeked out, red rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. He knew you had been crying, were about to start crying as you were standing there. Bucky stepped back to let you in. 

“Sorry Bucky, I just… don't want to be in my apartment tonight.” Your head dropped as you stepped in, and he softly shut the door behind you. 

Standing there for a moment, you didn't know where to go from there, and he stepped in closer, encircling his arms around your cocooned blanket and you could feel the rush of a sob squeaking from you, pressing in against his t shirt. Bucky tucked you in close, feeling his own eyes prick with tears feeling you break in his arms, your shoulders shaking and even the blanket couldn't seem to keep you feeling safe now. But his arms did. They were strong and hard, encircling you. “Come on Doll, your exhausted I can feel it.” 

You didn't struggle as he led you down the small hallway to the back bedrooms, and  expected him to put you in a guest room that you knew all these apartments had. But he didn't. 

He brought you right into his room, and sat you on the edge of his bed. 

“Are you okay unwrapping from this?” He questioned, his hands resting on the blanket where you clutched it around you like a protective shield. You sniffled and dried your face on it momentarily before nodding, letting your grip go. He eased it off, and folded it. Resting at the end should you want it back. 

“Give me two seconds Doll.” He disappeared into his closet and with the door half shut, pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers, and switched out his tear wet shirt for a dry one. When he came back out, you were right where he left you, feet dangling over the edge of the bed, and your fingers clasped in your lap. When he came around and stretched out, half propped up on pillows, you looked over your shoulder at him. “Can you leave the light on Buck? Just a little bit?” 

“Of course Y/N. '' Reaching to the lamp, he turned it on a softer setting and saw you visibly relax your shoulders as you looked around, and could still see all the corners of the room. Pushing back to get in the bed, you tucked yourself in against your friend's side, letting your head fall to his shoulder. 

“They must have been pretty bad this time.” Bucky said as he lifted a blanket over the two of you, and you nodded. “I kept seeing Him in the dark, coming for me.” Bucky was well aware who you were talking about, having shared with him before some that had happened to you. You lifted Bucky's arm and placed it around your shoulder, his palm pressing against your arm and tucking you in closer, dropping the softest of kisses on top of your head. “Even when I was awake, it was like he was just out of sight, waiting for me to drop my guard.” 

“We won't let him get to you Doll, not again.” 

There was a soft shuffle of blankets as you got comfier against him, and your arm locked around his middle, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

“I know Buck, that's why I came to you.”