#they already change it every month ! its so fucking whatever ! leave me alone stop asking me why i can use the elevator !

[transgaysex]

also whats a guy gotta do for people to stop asking me why i have the code to the elevators meant for personnel and disabled students to use. like why is it that twice now staff from the college ask me "Umm why do you have the code to the elevator?" buddy if im not also staff then ill give you one fucking guess.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.” 

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf. 

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels. 

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons. 

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be. 

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

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

+ Childhood

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Stealin’ Hearts

George “Digger” Harkness x Reader

Fandom: DC Extended Universe

Summary: You’re a superhero and you just found out your soulmate is the notorious diamond thief, Captain Boomerang. You want to trust him, but you’re not sure you can just yet, so…now what?

Note: This is the sequel to He’s a Challenge. I really wanted to write a second part lol so here you go!

Warnings: Alcohol mention.

Word Count: 1.5k

Reader is: Female (but I would be willing to rewrite another version for a male or gender neutral reader.)

When the jet landed, you let go of Boomer’s hand and led him out onto the roof of your family’s secluded forest mansion. He looked down at the sheer size of it, his eyes wide.

“What?”

“Nothing, just…It’s not what I expected.” He admitted, hauling his duffle bag full of his few belongings over his shoulder. You led him in through the door and down the stairs to the balcony that overlooked the lower level of the house. You saw your siblings were congregated there, River looking particularly anxious, his arms across his chest. Rose and Ryan were sitting on the couch, talking, but their discussion stopped when they noticed you and Digger standing there, looking down at them.

“We’re here.” You called awkwardly.

“I see that.” River said, his eyes guarded as he looked the notorious Captain Boomerang up and down.

You led him down the stairs to where the others were and he hesitated, but followed after you anyway, a sheepish look on his face.

“So, Mr. Harkness, I’m not sure if (Y/N) told you why you’re here.”

“Well, I know we’re soulmates, so…” he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, obviously anxious about the whole situation. “I kind of figured that was why.”

“Well, yeah, but also no.” Rose laughed, motioning for everyone to sit down, so you . “(Y/N), why don’t you explain?”

You exhaled a long breath, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I can.” You looked up at Digger and he smirked. “Yeah, so, uh, our mom is the queen of an alien planet. So like…we’re royalty. And because of that, through our laws, you get diplomatic immunity because you’re my soulmate. I mean…unless you do something super fucked up and then I can’t help you.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his expression confused, but also evaluating what you had just said. “You mean to tell me my soulmate is a princess.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged.

He grinned. “Wicked.”

***

With every room of the mansion you showed Digger, the more and more impressed he became, taking everything in. He was still expecting you to take it all back at some point, tell him it was all a big joke and he wouldn’t be living in your giant mansion for the rest of his days.

That was strange to him, too. This weird sense of security. He’d had a rough upbringing, that much was for sure. He wasn’t used to stability, even in his adult life. He’d been constantly on the run, in and out of prison, doing whatever he could to make ends meet and try to establish something for himself, and…here it was. It had fallen right into his lap.

You pulled open a door and led him into another bedroom. There were a few generic pieces of art on the wall. The comforter was charcoal gray and there were a few navy throw pillows on top.

“I’m sorry it’s so empty in here.”

“Why are you…?” He paused for a second, looking around the spacious bedroom. It was nice, clean…way better than the tiny, dingy jail cell he’d been in for the past few years. “Is this my room?”

“Yeah, is that alright? It’s next door to mine, so I figured…”

“It’s perfect, princess.” He smiled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”

“Well, believe it.” You chuckled, stepping further into the room and opening the drawers on the dresser. “We didn’t know what size you were, so we guessed, but we picked you up some basics. I didn’t know what all you had…”

Digger was silent, watching you with careful eyes. You barely knew him and yet you’d done all of this for him, going out of your way to get him clothes and bedding.

“And this is your bathroom.” You opened the door to what he had assumed was a closet or something, but no, he now had an entire bathroom to himself as well. “I know the shower can be a little confusing, so let me know if you need any help with anything.”

You blinked up at him, waiting for some kind of reaction. “You good?”

“Y-yeah, I just…” He chuckled and shook his head. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”

“What, did you think we’d throw my soulmate in the dungeon?” You smirked, watching the way he couldn’t help but crack a smile at that.

“I wouldn’t have blamed you for it.”

You were both quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you mind if I take a shower real quick? I haven’t had a warm shower in…” He didn’t finish the thought. You both knew it had been a while since he’d had a bathroom to himself, let alone water that wasn’t already cold by the time he got to it.

“Go for it. I’ll be down in the living room when you get out.”

***

When Digger came back downstairs, you were almost shocked, looking at him. He’d trimmed his beard, combed his hair, and he was wearing one of the cozy gray hoodies you’d picked out for him. He looked nice. You couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks when you took him in.

“What, princess?” He raised an eyebrow, walking over to sit down next to you.

You set the book in your hands down on the coffee table. “Hmm?”

“What’s that look for?”

“You look nice, is all.” You shrugged.

He grinned. “You think so?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded. Once he was closer, you could smell the eucalyptus shampoo in his slightly damp hair. You leaned in the tiniest bit, terrified of moving too fast, but he leaned in a bit too, only to be interrupted by—

“GIRLS’ NIGHT!”

You looked up at the sound of the voice with wide eyes, chuckling when you saw none other than Harley Quinn standing there with a bottle of wine.

“Boomer? What are you doin’ here?” She asked, looking at him.

“I found my soulmate, Harls.” Digger said, smiling as he did.

She looked between the two of you, her eyes widening in realization. “Wait, are you two…?”

“Yeah, we are.” You confirmed, slipping your hand into Digger’s. He embraced it quickly, giving it a proud squeeze.

“But I thought your soulmate was some dude named George…?”

“Digger is just a nickname, mate.” He chuckled. “My real name is George.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Harley nodded. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.”

“You know it’s Wednesday, right?” You said, glancing down at your phone to double-check.

“Oh, is it? I thought it was Thursday.” Harley laughed. “My bad.”

“You can hang out if you want to, though.” You offered, motioning to the couch.

“Don’t mind if I do.” She ran over and hopped onto the open end of the couch next to you, setting the wine bottle on the coffee table before crawling over to whisper in your ear, “He’s a keeper, (Y/N). You’re in good hands.”

“Oh believe me,” you smirked, “I know.”

***

It was a few months later. Much to your surprise, Digger stuck around. Part of you had expected him to leave that first night with all of your family valuables in his duffle bag, but he…hadn’t. Instead, he’d been coexisting peacefully with your siblings, spending significant amounts of time trying to get to know you better, reading, cooking on occasion, and helping with chores around the house.

He remembered in vivid detail the first time you’d trusted him enough to fall asleep with him. It had been innocent enough, one of your first times cuddling together. Your other siblings were all out of the house, so you and Digger had the house to yourselves. Naturally, you had popped in a movie. One thing had led to another and you’d ended up fast asleep on his chest.

He took a long moment to look at you, something he had never felt before welling up inside of him as slow breaths worked into and out of you.

Something changed then, and since that moment, he had been pretty attached to you. Not that you minded. It felt natural. He was your soulmate, after all.

“Princess, have you seen my—” Digger popped his head into your bedroom, frozen in his tracks when he saw you there, laying on your bed, reading a book.

“What?” You asked coyly.

“Nothing, I just…” He smirked and stepped into the room. “Would you like some company?”

“Weren’t you looking for something?”

“Yeah, my heart, and it seems you’ve been hiding it in here with you.” He replied, walking over to your bed and climbing on next to you. He gently guided your book away from you and took its place on your chest instead, looking at you with his sparkling eyes, his weight comforting on top of you.

“And here I thought you were the thief.”

“Reformed, darlin’.” He said, unable to keep the smile off of his face. For one of the only times in his life, not only did Digger feel safe, but he finally felt happy, and he knew as long as he was by your side, that feeling would never fade.

[stargazer-balladeer]

Adopting a Child [Genshin Impact]

Characters Included: Albedo, La Signora & Scaramouche

Notes: All of the character’s I have least experienced with all in one post :D alright— let’s see how this’ll go- also,, hope they aren’t too OOC ;;w;; (and yes,, i made this whole hc bc of la signora- got a problem with it? HAHAHA) hope ya’ll like this!

Additional Information: You aren’t their kid. Just a random kid they found in the street who decided to follow them until they adopted you as their own :D

Reader’s Gender: Neutral

Warning: me cursing like usual 😃

Dedicated to: @meepmonster7 :D

Albedo

For some reason, I can see him knowing how to handle a child, since he takes care of Klee as well- so when it comes to taking care of you, he’s practically a natural at it.

At first, he’ll be a bit turned off by you since he sees you as a bit of a nuisance. But over time, you’ll grow on him. He’ll come to love you as his own-

As an artist man himself, He teaches you how to draw. From plant, to animal, to people. He teaches you the techniques he used for drawing. You bet that he loves every drawing you gave to him, even if its a stickman, this man’ll treasure and cherish it with his life-

This man loves spoiling you with things, it got to the point where you didn’t know how to use all of the things he’s given to you. Sometimes, Jean and Sucrose has come in and told him to stop spoiling you too much-

Albedo’s a scientist right? Head scientist, alchemist, whatever. So you bet your ass that he’ll be teaching you some alchemy at such a young age- bro,, u can be the next einstein with how complicated things he’s teaching you-

Whenever he has free time, he loves spending it with you. He would share his findings with you, even though you can’t understand what he’s saying, he would still tell you. Sometimes, he would put on a show for you while telling stories using his vision and alchemy- he would always smile at your awestruck face as he tells the tale.

Playdates with Klee is a must- he would sometimes leave you under the Knights of Favonius’ care and you’ll be found playing with Klee. At first, he’s worried since he knew what Klee’s like. But if Jean decided its okay, then its okay.

If ever you were attack or gone missing, Albedo would be furious and immediately go to you or search for you. The ones who stole you away or attack you no longer exist btw 👀

Overall, even though you suddenly came to his life and became his unexpected child, he would love you as his own.

La Signora

La Signora is a fucking natural at taking care of a child, change my mind 🤧🙃. Like if a child is crying and can’t be tame, just drag her over and that child would stop crying- maybe its bc she has a motherly aura around her (besides the fact that she almost kills Venti- 😃)

I think she willingly adopts you, not bc she’s obligated. She would guess that it’s because of her motherly instinct inside her when she finds you following her- she takes you in without any hesitation-

“But.. La Signora-“

“Even if you beg in front of me, my answer will not change. I will take this child as my own and none of you can stop me-“

La Signora would take you everywhere with her, but if its a mission that requires some.. blood, that’s the time where she wouldn’t bring you. She would drop you in the Northland Bank for a while before coming back to pick you up. She would let you explore the area since she knows that children likes to venture around new areas-

As much as La Signora is ruthless to the people around her, she would undoubtedly be soft towards you. Like she’ll be like medusa one second then the next she’ll be gushing at you-

She is the kind of woman that shields you from the world, who would protect your innocence than destroy it. So, in order to protect it, she wouldn’t tell you about her profession. All she would say is, “Mother is doing some secret business work.”

La Signora would spoil you rotten, whether from gifts or affections. If you want something, it would be given to you. She’s really rich, ya know? 👀 she loves carrying you, especially during times where she can cover your eyes- 👀

Even though she spoils you, doesn’t mean she wouldn’t be hard on you. If you do something she doesn’t like, she would punish you. She would also train you with your desired weapon, stating that it would help to protect yourself when she can’t-

I feel like she would let you meet her fellow Fatui Harbingers, but its not like their close with one another- 👀 but Childe is one Harbinger that you often play with. Even though he hates La Signora, he wouldn’t deny that he enjoy playing with you- so you can be found either with La Signora or with Childe-

If you ever get attack or was taken away, you can bet that La Signora is livid- furious- and she’ll hunt down whoever attacked you or decided to kidnap you. And she would NOT show mercy.

Overall, she would treat you as her own and would give you the world if she could- she would protect you from the darkness of the world. Whatever it takes..

Scaramouche

Ha! Scaramouche with a child? Everyone is doubtful at best. He was already a whiny bitch. It’s not a wise decision to give him a kid- he can hardly care for his subordinate, what about a fucking kid-?!

You can tell Scaramouche despised your presence just from his face alone. Even as days and months go by, he would still despise you. But if you manage to rub off on him by staying with him for a year or two, he would start accepting your presence… slowly. He would still make that disgusted face whenever you’re around, but you can tell he’s soften around you and acknowledges your presence-

Scaramouche would be hard towards you, even if you’re a kid, he would still treat you just like he treats everyone. But to those people who knew him well (like Childe, Signora and other Harbingers-), they could tell Scaramouche is going easy with you-

Scaramouche isn’t that affectionate so he wouldn’t spoil you with affections or gifts, but he tries. He’ll leave some trinkets he found while he’s out and about in front of you before leaving promptly- (i swear he’s a tsun-tsun :3-) this cycle would continue even as years go by.

Scaramouche would train you harshly and isn’t afraid to force open your eyes to the harshness of reality- just bc ur a kid doesn’t mean ur an exception to the rules of reality. (“You’ve got no choice but to accept it as it is.” Scaramouche said, almost sadly while staring as someone was killed in front of you two-).

He would let you play with Childe (Childe is good with kids, okay? He has siblings for Teyvat’s sake-). He might as well give you to Childe with how often you are seem with the hydro-user instead of the 6th Harbinger- but you would always go back to Scaramouche.

Everyone would always ask you how you handle the harshness of Scaramouche (it’s no secret that he’s the least liked Harbinger-), but your response is always the same- “because I love him! He’s my older brother!” (Whilst Scaramouche is blushing behind the wall-).

Scaramouche is protective of you, believe it or not. So if you are with him while he’s outside, he’ll keep you close with him and doesn’t allow you to wander off. If you do wander off, he would panic as he searches for you. He would most definitely scream at you before hugging you- (he’s relieved that you’re unharm- 👀)

If you’re being attacked or taken away, everyone in the Fatui would be so scared of him as he goes out to search for you. If you’re kidnapped, he would let out a search party. And they aren’t allowed to be back unless you are with them (unless they want to get some beating from him-). He would immediately kill whoever attacked you or kidnapped you, even if you’re there to witness it, he would still kill them.

Scaramouche, overall, isn’t perfect. Afterall, he still despised you even after years go by- but he’s grown attached to you. Just,, be patient with him and continue to love him.

[x] Main Page || [x] Mondstadt Page || [x] Fatui Harbingers Page

[kakaxhi]

Kotaro Bokuto | Us, Always

Pairing: Kotaro Bokuto x Fem!Reader (college au!)

Summary: when Bokuto finds out your ex is pestering you, his immediate response is to pretend to be your boyfriend

Warnings: mild language, creepy exes

Word Count: 1.9k

Your morning was already ruined before they showed up.

As hard as you tried to ignore your ex, they were insistent on talking to you despite you politely - and sometimes not-so-politely - told them to leave you alone. It was a messy break up and they couldn’t get the message that you wanted nothing to do with them.

“I know you have a few minutes before your next class. Let me say something, please?”

“I really don’t have anything to say to you, as I’ve said multiple times. Please just leave me alone.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned around only to be stopped by their hand holding onto your wrist. The way their hand felt on your skin made you want to curl into yourself. Just before you could say something, another hand came into view.

“Hey, hey, hey! We got a problem here? Don’t bother lying, because I know for a fact [Y/N] has asked you to leave her alone.”

Your ex glared at Bokuto before taking off, but not before glancing at you once more. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding before turning towards Bokuto. You bowed respectively as you thanked him.

“You really didn’t have to get involved though, they usually stray away after awhile.”

“I could see how uncomfortable you were. Ah, I hope I didn’t make you more nervous by knowing your name. We’re in the next class together and I’ve heard you with your friends. I’m Bokuto Kotaro.”

You smiled, a small laugh escaping you, “I know, I’ve been to a few games since one of my friends is on the team with you.”

Bokuto smiled, “Really? Well now I’ll be sure to look for a familiar face in the crowd.”

He motioned for you to follow him, walking with each other to your next class. The conversation continued before class started, Bokuto giving you a reassuring smile.

“Why don’t you meet me after classes are over? I’d love to get to know you better.”

-

“Is your ex still bothering you?”

You nodded, “Yeah, every time you’re not around.”

Bokuto frowned, playing with the hem of his shirt. Once the two of you got to know each other better, you gave him details here and there of your past relationship and your ex. With the more information he received, Bokuto liked your ex less and less. Something about them just irked him, adding onto the fact he hated how they treated you.

“Well, I have an idea. It’s up to you if you want to go through with it.”

“Well, let’s here it.”

“What if we went out?”

You sputtered on your drink, covering your mouth before the liquid went everywhere. Bokuto rushed to help, rubbing your back as he handed you some napkins.

“Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you coughed, “just didn’t expect that. What do you mean go out?”

Bokuto sat back down, “I meant like fake dating. You said your ex only stays away when I’m around, so maybe if they get the idea you’re with me they’ll leave you alone.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position or anything.”

“It was my idea. If anything, I’m tired of them making you uncomfortable. I wanna help.”

“How about I think about it?”

He nodded, “Sure, just know I’m always here. Whatever you need.”

You quickly shoved the butterflies in your stomach away.

-

It was at Bokuto’s next practice game where you agreed. Your ex had been pestering you more when you weren’t with Bokuto and the day just really got on your nerves. Walking into the gym, you found Bokuto and waited for him to notice you by the bleachers. He waved excitedly before excusing himself from the conversation he was having before coming over to meet you.

“Hey gorgeous, what are you doing here?”

You sighed, playing with your fingers nervously, “That plan we discussed the other day? Is that still an option?”

Bokuto pondered for a moment before nodding quickly, “Yeah, of course. Fuck, you look so stressed out. What happened?”

“It’s just been a really long and difficult day.”

He nodded in understanding before pulling you into his arms. Your own circled his middle, hiding your face in his chest. He smiled, giving you a quick squeeze before pulling away.

“Practice is going to start soon. Why don’t you stay and watch and then I’ll walk you back to your dorm? We can discuss things further.”

You nodded, “Sure. Thanks, Bokuto.”

He gave you a sweet smile, “Anything for you.”

He sent a wink your way before jogging back out to the gym floor. You sat on the bleachers, eyes widening every time he hit the ball. Even if you didn’t know the sport well, it was clear Bokuto would make it very far if went professional.

After practice, Bokuto came over to you. He wiped his brow with a small towel, grabbing his water bottle.

“I’m gonna take a fast shower and then we can leave. I can have one of the guys sit out here with you if you want.”

“No, it’s okay. They’re probably all tired. I’m fine, promise.”

He squeezed your hand as he stood, “If you’re sure. My phone’s in my bag if you need something. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

True to his word, Bokuto was out of the shower quickly, his hair still slightly wet when he came out to meet with you. You followed him out the door, laughter filling the air around you as he told you a story from his past.

“You’ll have to meet Akaashi sometime. I think you two would really get along.”

You smiled, “Yeah? Well, maybe we can arrange it. Oh, turn here. My building’s around the corner.”

Bokuto followed you up to your room, glancing around at the little things you had laying around. He stood in the doorway awkwardly as you moved some things around.

“You can sit wherever, my roommate spends most of her time at her boyfriend’s place so we have no interruptions.”

He nodded, placing his gym bag down and sitting besides you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to discuss the plan and whatever boundaries you wanted to have. Bokuto was an absolute sweetheart, as you’ve come to know, and wanted to make sure you were happy with everything.

“Maybe you could come to my games too? I mean, not just for this plan but I genuinely enjoyed having you there tonight.”

“I’ll be there.”

-

You didn’t miss the way people looked at you and Bokuto the next day. People were jealous of both you and it honestly was a bit overwhelming. Bokuto squeezed your hand, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Ignore them, they’re just mad. Whatever they’re saying or thinking means nothing.”

You leaned into him more, your free hand resting against his arm. A triumphant smile made its way to your lips when you spotted your ex looking at the two of you, and you knew the plan was working.

Bokuto stopped in front of your first class, thumb brushing against your cheek once you lifted off of him.

“I’ll see you later, okay baby?”

You nodded, smiling as he planted a kiss to your cheek. His hand slowly left your waist, a smile resting on his lips before going to his own class.

Once again, you pushed the butterflies away, reminding yourself this was all fake.

-

Your plan with Bokuto went on for another month before your ex confronted you both. Bokuto treated you to a date after a hard week of classes and practice. Fake or not, he wanted to treat you well. As the two of you were talking, Bokuto quickly got up from his seat once your ex started walking towards you.

“Seriously? This is getting out of-“

“You don’t shut up do you? I’m here to talk to [Y/N].”

You rolled your eyes, “What could you possibly want now?”

“You’re not actually dating him, are you?”

Your heart started racing, panic rising in your veins, “Uh, yes we are? Are you that dense?”

“Really? Then how come I’ve never once see you two kiss? Is this all a ruse to make me jealous or something?”

You exhaled sharply through your nose before standing, “I don’t know how many time I need to tell you, but I want nothing to do with you. Whether I’m with Kotaro or not is none of your business.”

Bokuto smiled at the mention of his first name, something he wanted to hear you say over and over. He maneuvered his arms around your waist, holding you as he glared at your ex.

“Fine, kiss him and I’ll believe you.”

“Or I could just knock you on your fucking ass and call it a day.”

You shook your head, knowing if he got into a fight he wouldn’t be able to play the big game coming up. Turning around, you face him with a sweet smile.

“It’s fine, Ko. If it’ll get them to leave us alone.”

Bokuto checked to see if there was any signs of you being uncomfortable before he leaned in. Your hands gripped onto his dress shirt as your lips pressed to his. His nose gently rubbed against your own before deepening the kiss. Teeth nipped at your bottom lip before he pulled away, chuckling at your ex’s retreating figure.

“Serves them right. So, are you okay after all that.”

You nodded, “Just glad to have you with me.”

-

Things changed between you and Bokuto after that. It was a few days later when he found himself outside your dorm. You had no afternoon classes that day and he didn’t want to wait until later to see you. He knocked on your door, a soft smiling pulling on his lips when he saw you.

“Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

You welcomed him in, shutting the door behind you once he was settled. You could see the stress on his features, even as he tried to hide it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this fake dating thing with you anymore.”

You nodded, “I figured as much. You’ve been avoiding me, I figured I did something to upset you.”

Bokuto stood, placing his fingers under your chin, “You did nothing wrong, I don’t think you understand me. I can’t do this fake dating, but I want to date you for real.”

“Scared me, thought you didn’t want to be around me anymore.”

He chuckled, his arms encircling you, “Sorry, you’re stuck with me. I mean, if you want me around that is.”

You nodded, “As long as you want me, I’m yours.”

Bokuto smiled, “So, does this mean I can take you on a proper date now? Make you mine?”

You chuckled, “Yes, of course.”

“Well that’s good,” Bokuto bent down to kiss you, “because you had my heart from the day I met you.”

The butterflies in your stomach told you, you felt the same way.

[fanfic-me-up]

All The Colors We Cannot See {Bakugou x Reader}

Synopsis: He sees you in the colors that light the sky, and longs for you in the darkness that follows.

Pairing: Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x fem! reader

Warnings: attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, language

Word Count: 4k+

A/N: This took me like 9 months to complete, but it’s finally here. I didn’t completely stick to the request, but this is what came out. I still hope you like it! Banner made by my amazingly talented friend, go follow her @jm.rvice on instagram! 💖

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Blood pumps to his legs. Cement pounds his feet. Bits of rubble catch in his boots. The first spark of the night shoots up- swallowed whole by the black sky. A trail of embers remains in its wake. 

Katsuki stops. And waits.

A second passes- the crowd silent in anticipation. No one can see the spark, but everyone knows it’s there… waiting…  for the right time to explode. And just when the darkness thinks it has won, an enormous burst of light blankets the sky. In that moment, it’s so bright that Katsuki can see the skyline. Like paint splattered on a blank canvas, the sky now bleeds in red, and the explosion leaves an imprint the size of a supernova long after it’s gone. 

The crowd applauds. 

A roar is ripped from Katsuki’s throat. He pounds at the brick wall again and again, despite blood trickling down his fists. He rips his cochlear and smashes it against the wall. A sick satisfaction settles within him. The ringing that greets him is like a devil sucking on the lobe, whispering tempestuous nothings into his ear. 

Katsuki continues his ascent, taking steps by three until he reaches the top. The poor door is yanked off its hinges, but it doesn’t even cross Katsuki’s mind as he’s hit by everything all at once. Smoke slithers down his throat, roasted yakitori wafts up his nose, the rhythmic booms caress his ear, and the lavender shaded sky comforts his eyes. From up here, the people below remind Katsuki of the dots he used to see after he ignited a big explosion- how the dots blur, mix, and separate in one fluid motion again and again. 

His phone ringing is a distant echo. They’re looking for him no doubt, but who the hell cares. Not like they’d find him up here. This was yours and Katsuki’s place.

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He’d blow himself up if he missed even a second. 

His lungs burned. They ached for a clean breath, yet inhaled the stench of nitroglycerin-like sweat. He could’ve just blasted himself to the top and saved himself the trouble, but fuck. That. Katsuki thrived on a challenge. He loved the rush of adrenaline more than his own mother. (He’d never tell her that- she’d kill him before he reached this goddamn roof.)

He threw himself against the door in time to see the first burst of citrine hit the sky. But he also saw you, a trespasser, standing on the ledge and looking like you were about to kill yourself. You didn’t flinch at the sonic boom (like most people) nor cringe at the heat. It was like you thought the beauty outweighed its destruction. 

All that said you were fucking stupid.

“Oi! Get down from there!” 

You were immersed in skylight, and though your back was turned, Katsuki knew you were staring up in awe; your eyes reminiscent of glassy pools reflecting red, yellow, blue and all the possibilities they create. 

“Fuckin’ hell…” Katsuki muttered. He just wanted to enjoy the show in his spot. Alone. Like he did every year. “Oi, lady! You wanna kill yourself? Do it on some other roof dammit!” 

You jumped at the blasted words, losing your balance and falling off the ledge. Katsuki expected you to scream, to gasp, to cry... anything but fucking wink on your way down like playing with death is just some fucking game. But Katsuki had no time to think before he blasted himself across the roof to grab your hand- but you didn’t need it. You threw a safety line in mid-air, hooked it to the ledge with skillful precision, and used the leverage to hurl yourself back up. You landed on the ledge like a ballerina tip-toeing on a tightrope. The sheer turn of events rendered Katsuki speechless. 

 “Phew! That was fun! Let’s do it again sometime, yeah?” You wrapped the safety chord before bouncing up to Katsuki.

The fuck?

How did you…? 

 You didn’t seem to notice Katsuki’s loss for words.

“I’ve never met someone with a quirk like yours. You could put on your very own firework show!”

You tried grabbing his hand, but Katsuki’s growl stopped you. The flickers popping in his hands were a sign to back the fuck off.

You’re scared. Good, Katsuki thought.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m a bit of a pyro.” You sheepishly smiled, twirling a pink and yellow band around your finger. (You’d later twirl your wedding ring the same way.) 

Katsuki’s growl cut in its tracks. You weren’t scared like he thought, in fact, you looked lost in his sparks- your eyes zooming back and forth, trying to catch each and every one. Katsuki killed his sparks, causing you to look up at him in disappointment.

“I can’t. Mine don’t change color,” he muttered. 

Fireworks always fascinated Katsuki. As a child, he wished his explosions could change color. He imagined people looking up in awe when his sparks rained down. They’d recognize the power and the beauty.

“Hmm…color is what makes a firework...” you trailed off.

“No shit,” Katsuki snorted. How stupid are you? 

“Hold out your hands.” 

Katsuki crossed his arms, “No.”

“Oh, c’mon! Gimme your hands!” You bounced up and down, overcome with excitement. Katsuki stepped back but immediately stopped himself because Bakugou Katsuki never backs down. 

“I’m not giving you anything, woman. You’re fuckin’ weird for jumpin’ off roofs and asking for stranger’s hands. Stay the fuck away from me. In fact, this is my fuckin’ roof. Find your own.” Katsuki looked down to see his hands popping. It must’ve happened on instinct- a defense mechanism to scare off the extras who won’t leave him the fuck alone. 

Except it didn’t work on you. You only came closer. 

“Do you want to burn in color or not?” 

Katsuki saw flashes of himself in your eyes everytime a firework went off. A hunger burned in the pit of his stomach- one he’s felt countless times during battle, but this one was different. This strange warmth made him feel like jumping off the roof himself, and if he put all his might into it, he could brush the spark of a firework from fifty feet above.

“Yes,” he said. 

“Then you’re gonna have to trust me.”

“Trust you!?” Katsuki shook his head, “I don’t even know you!”

“That’s half the fun, isn’t it?” You giggled, “Now hold still.” 

Katsuki grumbled how ridiculous this was, and that whatever you tried wouldn’t work, but you ignored him in favor of pulling his hands and laying them face up. You nodded and Katsuki sighed, activating his quirk anyway because what the hell.

You’re entranced from the moment flickers popped, one by one, in his hands. They died as quickly as they were born, but still left their mark in the air. 

Katsuki’s sparks faltered as cool fingertips brushed against his wrist. 

“It’s okay, keep going,” you encourage, and he does. 

He can’t pinpoint exactly when the change happened. Like all change, he blinked and suddenly his sparks burned in color. Angry red, rooted in tormented crimson, ravished the usual, boring, orange of his sparks. 

Katsuki laughed in disbelief because how is this real? Yellow began to flicker in and out of the red, until it finally caught like a flame and engulfed the red like a warm blanket. Pink and light green began to swirl around the yellow, and the firework show Katsuki had been looking forward to all year didn’t hold a candle to the fireworks fluttering in the palms of his hands.

Katsuki looked up at you. 

Who the fuck are you? 

You giggled at his awed expression, “Our very own firework show.”

And that’s how you spent the rest of the night. His hands in yours while he burned in color for the first time.

Katsuki later discovered you could read emotions through auras. The aura becomes visible, allowing you to color a person’s quirk.

He also discovered that you didn’t need to hold his hand for it to work.

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

A round of fireworks triggers the ringing in Katsuki’s ear. He throws his head back in ecstasy and prays the sensation tickles his eardrum for a little longer- enough to shut the part of his brain that keeps remembering you. 

Katsuki pulls the pistol out. The leather grip, so slick with sweat, that Katsuki has to wipe his hand to make sure he doesn’t accidentally set off his quirk. 

He’s not an amateur. He’s held a gun before. Every pro-hero has to undergo weapons training, but he’s never used one in combat. His quirk was always more than enough. But there’s something inherently dangerous about a gun. His quirk is an extension of himself, but a gun is a separate entity altogether- and it was designed to kill. 

Growing up, adults would praise Katsuki for his quirk. They’d say, “With a quirk like that, you’re destined to become a hero!” But they were still afraid to get too close. They saw his quirk as a weapon that was designed to destroy. And soon enough, Katsuki became the embodiment of just that. But he always felt incomplete. He wanted to be a hero like All Might. One that people looked up to- in awe of their power, not in fear of it.

That’s why he loved fireworks. The only explosion that makes people stop and stare, instead of running away, in fear for their lives.

You were the first and only person to see the beauty in his quirk.

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

“What’s your favorite color?” 

Such a basic question that Katsuki should already have the answer to. But color meant so much more to you. You saw the world in a way that made everyone else seem colorblind. 

You twirled that same pink and yellow band around your finger as Katsuki twirled the ring in his pocket. You leaned in closer, basking in the warmth radiating from Katsuki. He watched how your eyes never left the sky, and he was content with missing the show if it meant he can watch you instead. He caught glimpses of you only when lit by a firework. He made sure not to blink during those moments else he’d miss you. Your expressions mixed and swirled as the fireworks continued, but you never lost the primary color of mesmerization painting your face.

“Blue,” you said. Katsuki had to lean in to listen; your voice an ember in a sea of fire. “But not sky blue like on a sunny day. It’s nice, but I much prefer the darker washes of blue, deep like sapphire.”

Blue, the color of sadness. 

“Why blue?” Katsuki asked. The ring in his pocket danced between his fingers.

You turned back to the fireworks. You always made sure to think before you speak when answering a question that mattered.

“Because there’s always an interesting story behind an aura of such sorrow, more importantly, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.”

“So your favorite color isn’t blue, it’s yellow,” Katsuki cut in, but you shook your head.

“There’s nowhere to go but down with yellow. Yellow is the epitome of brightness and joy, and when you crash during the high, you crash hard. But when you’re drowning in deep blue, as I’ve seen many people do, you’re at the lowest of lows- you really can’t get any lower in this life. But when an aura- and I’ve only seen this once- when an aura changes from the deepest of sapphire to sunrise yellow- well it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The twirling of the ring in his pocket stopped. 

“That is why I believe blue is the true color of hope,” you whispered.

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

Katsuki should feel the smooth texture of leather as he grips the gun in his hand. He should feel the weight of the gun as he brings it to his temple. But he’s numb to it all. It’s like an invisible string, pulling at his muscles, directing his body how to move. His mind goes blank for the first time, and all the inner-turmoil he’s been unable to escape just straight up… stops. It’s like he’s floating in a body of water with no current. Complete and utter stillness.

It scares the fuck outta him, but it feels good. 

As he’s about to turn the safety off, his phone rings again, snapping him back to reality. Katsuki guts his phone.

“Die!” 

The phone slides down the door like a dead pidgeon. 

“God-fuckin’-damn it...” He pushes the barrel back to his temple, craving that mind-numbing stillness once more. Anything to stop the feelings that just won’t seem to go away. 

The fireworks crescendo as the show reaches its climax. The colors begin to mix and blur together so much that it becomes too convoluted to look at. An infinite regress of color swirling in Katsuki’s mind.

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

You glowed on purpose so Katsuki could find you. He spotted you from miles away, like a beacon of light in the middle of a storm. The melancholic blue of your aura contrasted against the raging reds that painted the sky.

Katsuki ran. He pushed and pushed past his limit, harder than any battle he’s fought in. He could’ve made it if he used his quirk, but he was in a crowded marketplace with too many people. He ripped off his gauntlets and threw them in a random alley. He immediately gained speed. A couple more feet and one minute left.

He should’ve saved his breath. If he did, he would’ve caught you in time. But he had to make sure you knew he was there. You looked down at the sound of your name. He could barely make out your face, but you saw him. He knew you saw him because your aura changed from that melancholic blue to sunrise yellow in an instant. Everyone around him gasped at the flood of light emanating from above. 

You were right. It was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

If Katsuki produced a strong enough blast, he could make his way to the top and get you out before the bomb went off. At this point, he didn’t care who else might get hurt in the process. Next to him, Kirishima knew what Katsuki was thinking. He hardened himself to block Katsuki’s takeoff.

“Don’t do it, bro.”

“Get outta my way.”

“You can’t make it.”

“Yes I can.”

“You’ll both die.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP” Katsuki pushed him away, and prepared to blast himself, when two other heroes stepped in to hold him down, but no one stood a chance when Katsuki goes feral. Explosions erupted, not enough to seriously hurt, but enough to get people to back the fuck off. Even Kirishima (whose quirk is to literally be a human barricade) was having trouble blocking Katsuki. One more blast was enough to send Kirishima back and Katsuki used that half a second to blast off. But suddenly he couldn’t. He tried and he tried, but his quirk refused to work. A growl escaped from low in his throat as he whipped his head around, trying to find the cause to his problem so he could decimate it. 

Target acquired. 

Katsuki was about to march right up to his high school homeroom teacher and deck him right in his fuckin’ face, but before he could, he was held down once again.

He couldn’t fight three pro-heroes off without his quirk. He couldn’t get to you without his quirk. All Katsuki could do was look up and watch you die. 

Five seconds left.

He saw it in your face. The moment you realized he wouldn’t be able to save you. The yellow of your aura growing dimmer and dimmer.

Three.

You smiled through your tears.

Two.

And winked. 

One.

Then closed your eyes as you took your last breath.

The darkness that followed was unbearable.

A cacophonous wail erupted from Katsuki’s throat- loud enough to go up against any explosion. He couldn’t help but fall to his knees, unable to hold himself up any longer. He still wasn’t able to use his quirk and that only frustrated him more. 

He’d never felt so helpless in his life.

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

He hardly uses his quirk anymore because he sees you in the sparks. He’s got no drive to be Number 1 if you’re not here to watch him do it. His will to live is gone without you and that scares the fuck outta him. He hates you for filling his head with ridiculous bullshit. He hates you for opening his mind to the possibility of love, and hope, and shit that shouldn’t matter but it fuckin’ does for some goddamn reason. He hates you. He hates you. He hates you.

That same cacophonous wail erupts from his very core. The gun falls from his hands, to the ground. It could’ve gone off at that moment and Katsuki would never know. 

His focus zeroes on his hands. How tense they get when he flexes them, how the vein protrudes from his wrist, and how his glands secrete sweat from his palms. He points them to the sky, and a familiar rush of power, that he hasn’t felt in months, surges through him. His blood boils from under his skin and he’s literally shaking from the intensity. Like a volcano spewing hot-blooded lava after an eternity of dormancy, he shoots blinding white heat into the black night.

The color from the fireworks surround his explosions as if they’re echoing his sentiment. Hot red dominates the sky- reminding Katsuki of the sky that night. This causes Katsuki to rattle off explosions quicker, setting off one after another in a staccato rhythm. The crimson sky ravishes all other color. 

If only he saved his breath. If only he’d taken off his gauntlets sooner. If only he ran a little faster. If only he blasted himself a second earlier. If only he didn’t stay back at work that day. If only he turned right instead of left at that goddamn intersection. If only he picked up the ingredients for your favorite meal the day before so he could go straight home. If only he didn’t have to drive back to the market because he fuckin’ forgot the milk again. If only he decided it was still worth it to pick you up from work early like he planned. If only he cared more about your anniversary than about cracking Top 10. If only he went to more of your art shows instead of taking extra patrols. If only he went on that trip to New York with you instead of cancelling last minute because the agency needed him. If only he realized that you meant more to him than being Number 1 before it was too late.

Little by little the crimson wash is buried by the black night and Katsuki’s eyes hurt just staring into the black abyss. It’s suffocating him, weighing his chest down and making it hard to breathe. It’s enough to drop him to his knees, just like he did that night.

You and Katsuki had long talks about your future plans. How you fit into his life, and how he fit into yours. When you’d be able to properly settle down and have kids. You accepted that the first couple years into his career would be the toughest on your marriage. Katsuki would spend more time at the agency than at home with you. Relationships with pro-heroes were like that. But you respected his ambitions. You understood the amount of time that was required to fulfill those ambitions. You never held it over him, never guilted him into spending more time with you, and never made him choose between you or his career. You loved him enough to share him with the rest of the world. You were never each other’s other halves. Instead, you co-existed as separate individuals who made the best team Katsuki’s ever been a part of. 

Yellow begins to flicker in and out, but it’s muted behind the black veil of regret. The more Katsuki thinks of your empathy and your love, the stronger the yellow becomes. It finally brightens the black sky, to the point that Katsuki almost has to cover his eyes because it’s like looking into the sun in the middle of the day. 

And that’s when it clicks.

He’s burning in color.

You must be conducting this masterpiece from above, using the sky as your canvas and coloring the emotions coming from within him.

He kills his explosions as quickly as he fired them. The fireworks come to an end at the same time. The crowd’s cheers is a fly on the wall to Katsuki.

He falls back, lying flat on the ground and looking up at the sky still shaded in yellow. His chest heaves as he tries to get his breathing back to normal, and the sloppy mixture of sweat and tears continue to slide down his face. The cool breeze is a blessing against the nape of his neck.

He struggles to hold his hands up, they shake as he brings them up to his face. He reignites his quirk with the last bit of strength. The sparks lack their usual vigor as they flutter lazily in his palms. They remind him of fireflies swirling in a jar. For once, the orange doesn’t piss him off. 

Has anyone else seen his quirk like this? When he’s not trying to intimidate or take down a villain? The only person he could think of was you. Maybe his quirk wouldn’t be seen as a weapon, maybe he wouldn’t be seen as a villain, if the world saw what he’s seeing right now.

Katsuki sits in this revelation, and the calm that washes over him is nothing like the numbness from before. He’s far from being okay, and he still longs for you in these moments, but Katsuki has a hunch that if you were here right now - holding his hands in yours- his sparks would be burning in your favorite color. And he’s okay with that.

“That is why I believe blue is the true color of hope.”

Katsuki’s phone goes off even in its broken state. His eyes dart between the phone and the gun. He groans as he gets up. His limbs, heavy, after exerting himself. He picks up his phone.

“Hey. Yeah, man, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

Katsuki’s about to hang up when he takes a look at the gun. A reminder of what he was about to do. A decision he could never come back from.

 If things turned out different, he would not be here right now.  

Just the thought is enough to make Katsuki slide down the wall. He takes a deep breath- his heart beating rapidly at what he’s about to admit aloud for the first time.

“Actually, I’m not okay. I need you to come get me.”

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

The Plus Ultra Chronicle

Musutafu Tower Attack: 06/18/2020

WHEN HOPE PREVAILS:

A DAY OF REMEMBRANCE

By: Yamamoto Ichika

06/18/2021

Today marks the one year anniversary of the 2020 Musutafu Tower Attack. Hundreds gathered this morning in remembrance of the lives lost that night. Several people who’ve lost loved ones in the attack have already come forward with statements.

Of those people, Number 7 Hero, Dynamight, has chosen to sit down with The Plus Ultra Chronicle for an all-exclusive interview. His late wife, Bakugou Y/N, was among the citizens that were held hostage that night. After taking a year sabbatical, he has decided to return to the field of pro-hero work. Here is a snippet of that interview; you can find the full interview here. 

“Thank you, Dynamight, for sitting down with us. It is truly an honor. The people want to know- what are your thoughts on what occurred that night? Can you take us through what happened?”

“It was hard on us all. Whether you were at home watching on a screen or out there in person. All of us heroes felt like sh*t- unable to do anything. It’s even worse when you had a personal attachment to a victim like I did.”

“It must’ve been difficult as a hero- having to make quick decisions that forced you to separate your personal life from the objectivity of the situation.”

“If I’m being honest, I couldn’t, and it took a toll on me.”

“Is that why you took the sabbatical?”

“Yes. I constantly questioned the validity of my title. Whether or not I deserved to be called a ‘hero’ if I couldn’t save the one person I vowed to always protect.”

“You’ll be returning to the field next month, and with a new addition to your hero costume. An amulet of what looks to be a blue-colored spark attached to the left side of your chest. It stands out against the black, orange, and green of your costume. What is the meaning of this?” 

“When I was at my lowest, my failures were all I could see. But someone once told me that you can’t get any lower when you’re at that point. The only real change you can make is to acknowledge and move forward.” 

“A symbol of hope is definitely something we all need right now. What made you decide to finally give an official statement?”

“It is my responsibility to protect the citizens of Japan so this never happens again. But I also think it is important for people to see the shortcomings of the heroes they look up to. We’re human too. We f*ck up. I used to think that made someone weak. Now, I see it as part of the journey. The testament of a true hero.”

[rextasywrites]

i heard someone's got their requests open...... SO i dont really have much other than my thirst for smut and the total conviction that leon is a boobs man (while chris is an ass man), you can't change my mind. and its not even about size, i just know that man loves him some 🍒, big or small. anyways, im also a sucker for some angst so what about a little thing where leon and the reader broke up for whatever reason but deep down they miss each other a lot and wish they have not given up so easily, and then they sleep together... for like the first time since the break up and leon is all up on her and her 🍒 that he missee so much. just smut w a little plot lmao, thank you if you consider!! :)

This has been my favourite request so far so I had to get to it right away! i hope you enjoy it anon! <3

Warnings: smut and some angst at first

It’s been a month since Leon left. After one of the worst missions he ever had to face, he decided it was enough. If he had to face zombies and bio weapons and fuck knows what else, he’d do it alone and not risk her life too. Breaking up was the wisest decision, keeping her save. As a Kennedy, she would always have a target on her back, ready to be shot at. And if another person he loves dies because of him...Leon didn’t know if he would be able to overcome the grief and sadness.

It was two in the morning when you heard someone banging against your door. Out of reflex, you grabbed the gun he had left at your apartment months ago, ‘just in case’. Now was one of those times you thought. With an unlocked gun and in your nightgown you headed towards the door. The mysterious visitor was still banging against it, saying your name over and over again. “(Y/N), (Y/N), open up!”, you’d recognize that voice anywhere. Leon. And he sounded drunk.

You placed the gun away and unlocked the door. This caught Leon by surprise and he stumbled forwards, thanks to your great reflexes you caught him before his pretty face could kiss the hardwood floor. “Leon, the fuck you doing here?”, you asked as you helped him back on his feet. Together you headed to the living room where you sat him down on the couch, getting him a glass of water.

“I miss you baby!”, Leon hip cupped during the sentence, giving you his best puppy eyes. Fuck, not the puppy eyes…

“Leon, we broke up a month ago.”, you replied as you placed the cup of ice cold water in his hands. It still hurt, and seeing him in a state like this confirmed your belief that he wasn’t taking it easily.

Leon shrugged and took a few sips from the water, pulling a face. “That’s not wodka…”, he muttered as he placed the glass down. “Anyway. I missed you and your smell and your soft hair and your boobs and…”

You sighed and cupped his cheeks, “Leon, stop it. We broke up for a reason…”

“And that reason is stupid as fuck. I miss you.”, he confessed like the drunken mess that he is, still using his puppy eyes like you. Leon tilted his head, sticking his bottom lip out, “I miss waking up to you next to me, when you drool on your pillow and your hair is all messy an-”

You cut him off. Enough is enough. You had longed for him and his touch ever since he walked out of the door of your apartment, crying just like you did. Ever since you wanted him for yourself again, your Leon. You cut him off with a soft kiss, tasting the various liquors he had dumped into his body into the hours prior to your meeting.

“Leon…”, you whispered against his lips, the stubble of his beard scratching against your cheeks as he rubbed against you. All the feelings pent up were crashing down on you, and you both couldn’t hold back the desire burning deep inside of your bodies.

“Bedroom. Now.”, Leon said as he stood up, pulling you with him. Despite his stumbling, the muscle memory told him where your bedroom was, and in no time you two were in the bed you had shared so many times. Leon pulled you into his lap, instantly burying his face between your breasts. As a breathy moan escaped your throat, Leon tugged on your nightgown. “Off.”

To his enjoyment, your nightgown found its way to your bedroom floor, and to his delight, you weren’t wearing a bra. “Damn, how I missed them”, Leon muttered as his eyes were fixed on your breasts, taking in their shape, form, even the colour of your nipples. His calloused fingers flicked your nipples, drawing a moan from your lips. Ever since he had found out they were your weakness...Nothing had stopped him from spending literal hours between them, drawing one orgasm after the other from your body.

“You sound so fucking sweet like that...missed your cute moans, babe.”, Leon growled out as he placed one hand on your hips, guiding you to grind against him. As if it was in your blood, you moved your hips against his, feeling his rather obvious bulge against your panties. “Good girl.”, Leon flicked his tongue over your nipples, one time each, just enough to make you wish for more. Your hand dug into his shoulders, a silent beg for touch and satisfaction.

The moment Leon wrapped his lips around your nipple felt as if you were floating on cloud 7. The familiar feeling of his teeth gently biting into your soft flesh, leaving marks behind to show whose girl you are. How his beard scraped ever so slightly against your skin, tiny red traces of your connection for days to admire. He sucked and licked as if his life depended on it.

Because you were so busy with the pleasure Leon brought upon you with his mouth, you didn’t realize that he had tugged your panties to the side, only when his fingers brushed against your clit was when you gasped. Leon pulled away from your tits, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple. What a sight, what a view. “Do you want this?”

“Of fucking course.”, you breathed out, and before Leon could suck on your other breast, you pulled him into another kiss, breathlessly but full of need and lust. While you kissed Leon, his fingers collected enough of your sheer endless wetness and plunged them inside of you. The stretch and calloused feeling made you feel filled up, a feeling you had longed for since Leon had last touched you. “Leon, please…”, you moaned out as he stroked over your g-spot, feeling every little bit of your inside, of the place that made you feel so good.

“Please what? Say it, little girl.”

“I want you Leon. Fuck, I need you. Now.”, and that was all Leon needed. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy, leaving you empty and whining. You wiggled your hips while he pulled down his own jeans and took off his shirt, giving you enough time to admire the beautiful man in front of you.

Leon pulled you closer once he was undressed, leaning against the wall by the bed, guiding your hips closer to his. God, he was so beautiful with his uncut cock, standing at attention just because of you. “I missed this.”, you confessed and to your surprise, Leon agreed with you before he slowly guided himself inside of you. Fuck, how you deeply you missed his. It felt as if you two were made for each other. You needed a hot second to adjust to his size, he wasn’t so big that it would hurt, but...an impressive cock was hidden in his pants.

“Fuck, little girl, you feel so good.”, Leon groaned as he started to move his hips along with your, moving as one. He rested his head on your shoulder, one arm around your waist, the other one busy with rubbing your clit. His touch alone made you see stars, and since you hadn’t masturbated since he left, your orgasm was approaching fast.

The first waves of your orgasm caught Leon by surprise, making him look up to you. “Already?”, he asked, his lips parted and swollen from all the kisses you had shared. You nodded as another wave washed over you, and Leon felt his cock twitching inside of you. So tight, so fucking good…

“Fuck, baby”, Leon moaned against your skin, pulling you into another open mouthed kiss. The taste of alcohol was fading off, replaced with his unique taste. And fuck, it was an addicting taste. Your tongues danced together as every moan was swallowed by the other party.

It didn’t take much longer for you to cum. His thick fingers, his cock made for your pussy...together you reached your peaks, panting and moaning as the orgasms came over you. As you contracted around him, Leon filled you up to the brim, the sweetest feeling of them all with your lovers cum inside of you. Your neighbours probably heard your loud moans but at this moment, you couldn’t care less. 

As Leon went soft, his cock slipped out of you, his cum dripping out. But in this very moment you felt more connected to Leon than you had ever been, and judging by his soft smile, he felt the same.

“Come on little one, lets catch some sleep?”, Leon suggested. It wasn’t even in question that he would leave. Fuck no, this bed had been his bed for so long and now came his chance to sleep in it again. You nodded and got off his lap. After quickly drying yourself up, you joined Leon under the covers, snuggling against his chest.

With a soft yawn you dozed off in your lovers arms, but you were sure you heard Leon say, “I love you and will do so forever.”

[thefallennightmare]

Hard to Love [21/21]

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 1621

Warnings: this story will have mentions of abuse, mental and physical so please read at your own risk. Some swearing, angst, and a good amount of fluff. Maybe some smut if I'm feeling frisky.

Summary: After moving to a new town all on her own, Reader would do anything for a stable job and income. Even if that means housekeeping for one of Boston's eligible bachelors. What she didn't expect was finding herself falling in love with him and finding him out about the past that she was running from.

A/N: I cannot believe the ending is here. I also cannot thank you enough for all the love that you guys have gave this series. I really do appreciate it and love seeing all the comments! Your words of encouragement are what kept me going for this story. I’m so so sad it’s done. 

Lets finish this story with a happy ending! 

Tags: @kelbabyblue @patzammit @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @jennmurawski13 @divadinag @cosmicbreathe @thevelvetseries @capstopavenger @chris-butt @denisemarieangelina @im-a-stranger-thing @jennamarieee623 @introvertedmouse @lharrietg @thejemersoninferno  @breezykpop @instantbasementtimetravel @rodgersteves @michaelscotfield-blog1 @40srogcrs @wonderingshawn @bellaireland1981 @katelyneannxo @lady-x-red @sare-bare93-blog @annmariek8​ @raabrakha​ @stxvercgersslut​

ONE YEAR LATER

“Where’s my cutie pie?!” I shouted, entering the home. 

Four feet trotted down the long hallway from the kitchen to the living room where I stood, hanging up my jacket and bag. Bending at the knees, I allowed all of the kisses and whines of happiness, scratching the furry ears. 

“How’s Dodger doing today?” I cooed. 

He followed me into the kitchen as I searched the fridge for something to ease my stomach. Munching on a piece of cheese, I checked my phone and saw a new message from Chris. 

I’ll be home in a few hours. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t think these interviews would take so long. 

Don’t be sorry! I’ll wait up for you xx. 

The last year, I had grown incredibly; putting everything that happened to me in the past, locking it away. The scars still remained on my body but I never let it affect me. Chris would always make sure he showed extra love to them, telling me that he loved the way I look. 

The first time Chris had to leave for work was a couple of months after everything and it was hard to get adjusted to sleeping in the bed alone but Dodger was the best replacement, keeping me safe every night. Chris tried to turn down movie roles but I quickly shot that down. I wouldn’t let him lose out on a possible great job because I missed him. 

I ended up seeing the live video he posted when I was missing and the amount of outpouring coming from his friends and fans also helped me heal. There were a good amount of people who at first weren’t happy that Chris was in a loving relationship but eventually, when he kept posting pictures of us on Instagram, they got used to it. 

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I saw a new message appear from Chris. 

Our weekend starts in less that two hours. I can’t wait to be alone with you. 

I smiled fondly at the message. 

The past couple weeks were filled with either him working almost every day or me continuing my schooling. We had his family and friends over a few times last week as well so we were practically begging the Gods above for some alone time. 

Which is why this weekend we had zero plans, just the two of us in our home. 

And Dodger. 

“OH COME ON!” Chris yelled at the T.V. 

A giggle erupted from my throat from my spot on the couch, my feet placed in his lap, as we watched the football game. 

Our weekend together was coming to an end, school for me and another press conference for Chris’ upcoming movie tomorrow, meant that reality was about twelve hours away. We spent the weekend in multiple different rooms of the house, our moans vibrating off the walls. 

I’ve had sex more in this weekend than I had in my entire adult life. 

Now, we were exhausted, so we decided to spend the rest of our Sunday in our lazy clothes on the couch; Chris wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats and I ended up stealing his shirt and a pair of his boxers. 

Even though his eyes were transfixed on the game, he still made an effort to show me attention by rubbing the soles of my feet. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at this man in front of me. He let his beard grow this weekend, too lazy to shave it, which I didn’t complain one bit. The red marks on my thighs from earlier were an indication of that. His hair was short because he decided that he needed to buzz it last night; he was sick of it getting in his face. 

I marveled at the way the muscle in his jaw tightened when I rubbed my feet into his lap, purposely pressing into his soft cock. 

“If you keep that up, I’ll miss the last half of the game,” he threatened in a low voice. 

“But I’m horny!” I whined, lifting my shirt up and over my head. “Please?” 

I pinched my hard nipple between my fingers, hoping that would be enough to get him on top of me. 

It was. 

I yelped when Chris pulled my ankle towards him, his body on top of mine in seconds. His gold chain was dangling in front of my face as I looked up to him, our chest rising with heavy breaths. 

“So naughty,” he muttered against the crook of my neck. 

“Enough small talk and fuck me already, Evans,” I purred into his ear, fingernails digging into his bare back.

I couldn’t help but gnaw nervously on my bottom lip, tasting a bit of blood, while I paced the floor of our bedroom. Chris was out running errands but with the text I sent him, I knew that he would be on his way home asap. 

Can you come home please? I have to talk to you. 

My hands shook with nerves, feeling my cardigan being weighed down with the pressure that was in the pocket. I couldn’t help but worry about what Chris’ reaction would be. We never talked about this and I didn’t know if this would be what broke our relationship. 

“Y/N?” 

Hearing his voice, I made my way down the stairs and into the living room where he sat with Dodger on the couch. 

“Hey, everything alright?” He asked. 

I nodded and sat across from him. “Yeah, I think so.” 

He knew in the way my knee bounced and sucked in my bottom lip that whatever I had to talk to him about made me nervous as hell. Placing a hand on my knee, he gave me a warm smile. 

“Tell me,” he begged gently. 

Words were so foreign to me, not knowing exactly how to say it, so instead I handed him what was in my pocket. 

“I know we haven’t talked about it much but I couldn't not tell you. I mean you deserve to know. If you’re angry I understand. I’m confused too on how this happened,” I rambled. 

Chris didn’t hear a word I had spouted, his eyes trained hard on the stick in his hand with the two solid pink lines. 

“You’re pregnant?” His mouth twitched. 

I nodded and handed him my phone that held an email from the doctors office, confirming the pregnancy. Yesterday morning while Chris was out with his mom, I secretly had an appointment. 

“The doctor says I’m about six weeks,” I spoke softly. 

I was unsure of what his reaction would be, his gaze still stuck on the pregnancy test in his hand. 

Dodger knew something was different, sniffing the test in Chris’ hand. 

Finally after what felt like forever, Chris looked into my eyes and his mouth curved into a smile. 

“We’re having a baby?” 

The smile he had was a giant one, where you could almost count all of his teeth as he smiled down towards Dodger, showing him the sonogram on my phone as if Dodger could tell what he was looking at. 

The joy in his voice brought tears to my eyes. 

“You’re happy?” I asked. 

His hands snaked around my waist, pulling me into his lap. “I’m fucking ecstatic.” 

Our lips met in a rushed kiss, his hand finding its place on my stomach. His forehead rested against mine and his eyes shone with so much love that my heart leaped into my throat, knowing that his reaction was the complete opposite of what I was prepared for. 

“Stay here,” He mumbled against my lips in another kiss. 

I waited patiently as he rummaged for something in the desk of his office and he returned, hand behind his back. 

“I was saving this for when we went away next month but I don’t think I can wait.” He spoke before handing me a small box. 

A small velvet box. 

I gasped, watching him get down on one knee, and pried open the box. Inside was a gorgeous oval cut diamond on a plain gold band. The sunlight from outside had caught the ring in a warm glow of light. 

“This isn’t the most romantic idea of a proposal but I don’t want to wait any longer to ask you this. I first met you in this room when you came to work for me and in that moment I knew I wanted you; I needed you in my life. Y/N, you know I love you so fucking much. You have changed my life in so many ways and now we’re having a baby. You’re having my baby and somehow I love you even more. Y/N, will you marry me?” The tears welled in his eyes and he blew out a shaky breath. 

“Fuck yes!” I cried, hormones causing my eyes to pour tears down my cheeks. 

After he slid the ring on my finger, he picked me up with ease as he walked us towards our bedroom so we could celebrate the rest of our lives. 

I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in two years since I first drove up to this house, nervous about what the job was that I had an interview for. I never imagined that I would face my past again, not letting it define who I was anymore. And I definitely never thought I would find someone who would love me with his whole entire heart and soul, knowing how hard to love I was. But he did; Chris vowed to me that night in hushed moans that he loved me then and forever. 

Along with the baby I was growing in my stomach; our baby. 

AND FIN!

[junova]

↬ 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 | 𝐫. 𝐝𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐞

abstract — the one where ransom gets a taste of his own medicine, but you happen to be so much sweeter than he’s ever been. 

pairing — ooc!ransom drysdale x fem!reader 

wc — 4.1k+  im so sorry lmao 

warnings — cheating (if u squint its very vague), angst, fluff, slight self deprecation, ransom is kinda nice idk, i want a soft!ransom drysdale now pls, this is also very messy so read at ur own risk!

[m blabs] — howdy howdy! first time ransom fic. woot woot! still kinda finding my voice w writing so i hope you like it! <333 

His mouth set in a hard line as you continued to curl into his chest, the span of your confidence seemed to be wiped away with a nightmare from the past. Part of him was upset you hadn’t told him anything, the blind leading the blind, as you stepped foot into his family event. Seeing the last person you’d ever thought would be there. 

Surely by now, he thought you would trust him but it was more than evident you still didn’t. You persisted on hiding everything from him, anything you were sure might tick him off. 

Well, Ransom wasn’t necessarily known for biting his tongue.  Although, in your presence, he was learning what to say and where to say it. 

It really surprised him. Not one woman had been able to tame him, not since he’d be fucking everyone in sight. His desire was endless and not one single individual would be enough for his fill. 

Then, he found you drunk and sobbing on the concrete, right outside of the bar he was exiting. To this day, he still couldn’t tell you why he stopped for you. He never really paid attention to anyone if it wasn’t to his own benefit. Ultimately, meeting you was, even if he wouldn’t realize it then. 

You flinched from his touch when he patted your shoulder, gently asking if you were alright. If anyone asked him, Ransom would surely deny he felt you pull at the strings of his heart in an instant. 

He just knew. 

Maybe it’s why it took him so long to accept it, to believe in what he felt for you. Definitely not because you did nothing but be the most wonderful human he’d ever met. More had to do with him. 

Ransom dropped you off the first night you met in your small apartment downtown, definitely on the rougher side where he thought his Rolex sporting his wrist may get stolen. 

A cute little thing like you living in a neighborhood like this — didn’t make much sense to him. Then again, it certainly checked out with his privilege why he didn’t. 

Truly, Ransom didn’t realize how fortunate he truly was. Of course being a trust fund brat gave him the ignorance to live in an unmatched state of bliss. 

He still remembers the moment. 

Watching as you fumbled with your keys, finding it more than difficult to open your front door. It was cute, with your tongue poking out between your lips in concentration. Now, he wondered how he’d forgotten why he’d gone to get hammered at the bar in the first place. 

“Here, let me help.” New to Ransom, he offered a giving hand. Grabbing the key from your jittering fingertips before unlocking your door. He tried to hand you back your keys, but you pulled him so close, your chest touching his own. Dragging two rapid hearts through your apartment. 

“You smell like him.” A dopey smile on your face lighting every dark sight of Ransom, not that you’d know it did. “I smell like who?” 

“My ex-boyfriend.” Your hands cupping his cheek, but you were too drunk to realize how Ransom flinched from your touch. 

He didn’t push you away either. 

“But he definitely didn’t look this good.” Defying all laws of his own nature, Ransom let you stay in close proximity to him as you felt him up. Your hand resting on his chest, traveling lower stopping at his stomach. “Definitely didn’t feel this good.” 

He watched as you sighed, your puffy eyes were only slightly swollen and the mascara was still staining your skin with the rest of the makeup you wore. If anyone had asked him, you’d looked like a wreck but he still found you alluring. 

Ransom always liked his women looking more than fucked out, usually from gagging around his cock. Not crying over a broken heart. Nope. He definitely did not like dealing with a woman's sorrow. 

“He never let me touch him though. Guess that should have tipped me off.” You let your hands travel back up, wounding themselves around his neck before they applied more pressure — pulling him into you. 

Ransom found you pretty confident for not even knowing anything more than his first name and the car he drove you in. You were definitely craving attention and maybe he’d be more than happy to oblige but the little voice in his head Dr. Shoal told him to listen to was being a pestering, little bitch. 

What did Ransom want? 

Right now he wanted to drown himself in some sweet ass pussy. He knew you would give yourself easily to him, especially in your drunken state. Clinging onto him like he was a vine. 

The smaller part of him, the better part, knew you were drunk out of your mind. Absolutely plastered, but you had to stand there looking like a goddess. 

He didn’t really know why he was letting you touch him, maybe in hopes the deeper, darker side of him would win like it always did. Ransom knew better, even if he tried to hide it from everyone including himself. 

He liked you. From the very first moment, he knew he’d have to get you. Whether it cost your own sanity or his, Ransom didn’t care. 

It’s why he left you drunk and alone, safely tucked into the comfort of your sheets with his number left in your phone. Even taking the liberty of texting himself from it. 

He could never be too careful. Letting you slip through his fingers was simply not an option. 

Thanks to him, you didn’t forget about him. 

The next morning your memory only held vague images of a handsome stranger helping you home, thankfully he seemed to be nothing more than a doting gentlemen. The first for you to ever come across. 

Until later in the afternoon the following day, Ransom introduced himself and checked up on you, worming his presence into your life. 

Then he kept talking to you everyday, surprising even himself in the matter. Truly, he couldn’t help it. Part of him loved how gently you spoke to him on the phone. No one ever talked to him with such a level of care. 

He always warranted yelling, usually he was the one who stirred the pot. He enjoyed it, and thrived in a chaotic environment. It’s what he grew up in. Ransom was more than comfortable with his own family yelling and cursing him out until the sun came up. He did just the same. 

So, whenever you sweetly asked him how he was, it threw him off guard. 

Not a single soul even cared or bothered to ask him anything. Truth be told, Ransom was a sack of shit treating everyone like they were the gum beneath his shoe. It didn’t matter who talked to him — Ransom was simply more superior in every conceivable way. 

He would succumb to not a single soul. Paving his own way through life, with only the money from his trust fund of course. 

Then the two of you fell into each other and he could pinpoint the exact moment he did. 

The weeks and months blended together. He couldn’t really tell you why he was still lingering around, while he got nothing in return. You did get him off once or twice, but he wasn’t fucking you like he really wanted to. 

Maybe it was the innocence in your eyes pulling his soul into the very little good he still had left within him. Or maybe it was the way your thumb dragged over his cheek when you thought he was in slumber, blissfully unaware of your touch. 

More importantly his favorite thing, the way you let him hold you when the two of you cuddled. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, bouncy cheeks pressed into whatever knit sweater he decided to wear that day. 

It was all the little things, unknowingly making him fall in deep like he never had before. 

Unwelcoming to him, his mother came barreling in one Sunday afternoon, while you slept in his arms. Even as Linda screamed his name, you never jolted, out like a log. Safe in the peace he kept you in. 

Linda looked annoyed, irritated he even had company in the first place but not surprised. What truly shocked her was they both had clothes on.  Not truly believing Ransom was capable of such a sinless interaction. 

He knew what she wanted; he didn’t even have to move from his position to continue a private conversation. Not that it would get him off the couch, and out of your embrace in the first place. 

“I said no. Don’t know why you bothered coming here.” Linda angrily sighed. “You should at least show up.” 

Ransom didn’t notice, but subconsciously continued to run his fingertips up and down your spine. Linda did. She noticed that he didn’t even care she was judging him, but let you remain unbothered sleeping in her son’s embrace. 

“It’s for Walt. You need to be there.” She stepped closer, hoping the increase in her volume would wake you. “I expect you to grace us with your wonderful presence as does the rest of the family.” 

The sarcasm dripped, attempting to coax him out of the four walls he never seemed to leave. Not recently, anyhow. 

“I already told you, I can’t.” Now Ransom was irritated and he really wished she would calm the fuck down. It was one day, one event. There would always be another, that much wasn’t lost on him. “I have plans. Send him my best.” 

Assuming it was the rumbling of his chest when he spoke, you moved jolting yourself in his arms, before remaining still again. His heartbeat continues to soothe you. 

“You have plans? What else could be more important than your family?” The louder Linda’s voice grew the more you stirred, pissing him off. 

He really needed to change his locks. 

Even if he had no intention of going, he needed his mother to leave. Really for your own sake — trying to save you from Linda giving you a cold shoulder followed with a third degree burn. 

“Fine. I’ll go. Can you just leave?” She accepted Ransom’s submission, before looking at your figure. Sound asleep and clinging to her one and only, sinking your claws into him. 

She really didn’t like the way Ransom was looking at you. Linda was positive he would never be able to care about someone other than himself, but here he was, holding you close to his chest. 

Almost like his life depended on it. 

“Who is she to you?” With a raised eyebrow, eyes narrowing to you before meeting back with Ransom’s cerulean blues. 

“I don’t know yet.” Ransom paused looking down at you, so beautiful. Holding a light so pure, so radiant; he hoped no matter how cruel he could be, he’d never act like that towards you. “Maybe someone I don’t deserve, but want to be better for.” 

His rough, calloused fingers drawing mindless patterns on the exposed skin of your waist. He didn’t know what Linda said next or when she left. 

Time seemed to stand still, his confession hitting his chest fiercely. He let himself sit with it for a moment, before you woke up. Enjoying a moment where he didn’t have to deal with anything, he didn’t have to say a word. 

He could just enjoy the moment without eyes judging him or you questioning why his eyes seemed to shine just a bit brighter whenever you were around. 

It was the first of many. Moments where he felt small pieces of himself chipped away into your care. Planes of existences within him no one had ever scratched the surface of. 

Much like right now as you cried into his chest, begging for mercy. 

Because you were afraid. Terrified you had made the worst mistake, an unforgivable one. You lied about your past and to Ransom it felt like more than a betrayal. More accurately he felt a dagger in his heart placed strategically with your murderous hands. 

He’d never felt such empathy and pain at once. Maybe he’d never been empathetic a day in his life at all. 

Until now. 

To make matters worse, he knew his entire family was watching the whole scene from the window. It wasn’t from worry or concern for either one of you. Mainly all of them enjoying pain being inflicted on Ransom. 

Linda of course wallowing in her ego, he could practically see her bask in her own pride. Another thing she’d been right about checked off the list. 

The rest of the family watched the two of you fight with shiteating grins permanently stamped on their face. They’d never seen Ransom care about anyone but you. To watch the relationship he held so close to his heart blow up so publicly, only fueled the fire to Ransom’s rage. 

Except Harlan. 

Even through his hot, beating anger Ransom was trying his best to comfort you. To calm you down even if you had been the one to be caught red handed. Harlan couldn’t believe it, someone Ransom seemed to care about more than himself. 

More than any of his family. Not that Harlan was offended. Well, maybe a little, but more so he was thrilled his grandson finally found someone he had to grow up for. Someone he had to earn, not buy. 

No bribes. No schemes. No games. 

Just you. 

“Hugh, please talk to me.” How could he? It’s not like he had much to say. Maybe he did, he just wasn’t sure how to get the words out without hurting you or himself. 

“I know I lied and I fucked up, but please — we need to talk about it.” Soft hands reaching for his own, but he brushed them off, his hands snaked higher on your waist. “We should have talked about this the moment you met me.” 

Dead silence is all you were met with as he walked the fine line of pushing you away, leaving you behind and pulling you closer than he ever had. 

“You’re right. I should have told you the truth but can you blame me?” He met you with solemn eyes and his own heart beating rapidly. “Yes I can.” Ransom was trying to act cold and distant but the two windows to his soul told a different story. 

“That’s fair.” Even as he was holding you, Ransom still felt like he was a galaxy away. He was withholding himself from you like a turtle retracting into their own protection. A year ago, before he met you, he knew he would have never even recognized it. 

Now, you made it possible for him to be aware of just how much he had changed. He broke old habits of his own just to please you so when you disappointed him, this unreachable high standard he held you to, it shattered his sense of self. 

“Did you still love him?” Ransom questioned you. “I did. At the time, he’s all I ever really knew. I thought that’s what love felt like. The only image of love I had was the one he gave me. So, I ran with him and it crushed me.” 

Ransom had to pretend the words you were speaking didn’t split him into you two. The image of you falling in love with someone else was enough to make him wanna strangle your ex. 

His friend. 

“Then we just got into one really big blow out. Right in the bar in front of all of his friends I had met for the first time that night.” You reached for a chunk of his sweater, clenching the material in your hand, like you were trying to convince yourself to let the words fall from your mouth. 

“He told me how much I’d been irritating him and I couldn’t help but notice every girl he flirted with and touched right in front of me.” You tested the waters, placing both of your hands over his chest, the beat of his heart calming you down. 

“Then I just cracked. It was only one of the many fights we’d been having over the course of the past few months. Everyone single argument pushed me closer to the edge, until the last one actually did.” You sighed, watching as he frowned. 

“I ended things that night, before getting thoroughly plastered and soon enough crying on the cement. Wasted and lonely out of my mind, until I met you.” You moved your hand from his heart, cupping his clean shaven face. 

“You made me realize I never knew what love really meant or felt like.” This piqued Ransom’s interest. 

You said love. 

Could a tragedy bring out the words Ransom craved to hear more than anything in the world? 

Maybe you cared about him, more than anyone ever showed him. But loved him? How could someone be as hateful as him be worthy of someone like you? 

Even if you had broken his heart, he’d done far worse to more people than he could count. He wasn’t really in a place to judge but it didn’t change the fact it still hurt. A lot. 

“Hugh.” You heard him gulp rather loudly. “Yes?” His tone came out as more of a question than a response. 

The silence he gifted you was unsettling at the very least. “You've barely said a word.” He was surprised he didn’t scurry off in his beamer the second he saw the guilt reach your eyes. 

He was surprised he hadn’t let his anger take over and let the rage he felt inside body take it all out on you. 

He was surprised he somehow couldn’t inflict a single hateful word towards you, even as you sat with his heart in your hands. 

In pure bliss of just how much you owned him. 

“I hate it. This fucking corner you’ve back me into. Not to mention for the prying eyes of my entire family to watch the show.” The sharp tone he uses sensoring you. “You used me just to get back at him.” 

“Like I was some pawn in your game and I really even shouldn’t be mad.” He paused, trying to choose his words as carefully as he can. “I’ve done the same thing to so many different women. Used them and threw them out at my earliest inconvenience.” To your surprise, even Ransom’s, a single tear left his eye showing you how much you really meant to him. 

You hated yourself for letting it get to this point. 

“But you? I could never even think about hurting you. I could never live with myself if I treated you like everyone else because you’re so much more than that to me.” The tears continued to roll. The dame Ransom kept shut his entire life, opened because of you and he just wanted to make it stop. 

He would give anything — even you. 

He just wanted to not feel like a piece of shit for once in his life. For a moment, he thought he might have a chance to be something more than the picture he portrayed in everyone’s mind. You showed him maybe it was more complex than it seemed. 

“I just assumed I was that for you.” You sighed in frustration, softly wiping his tears away. “You are, though. You are more than that.” 

“Then how could you be so okay with lying to me?” The crease between his eyebrows only created more of an indention as he felt the anger trying to escape out of him. 

You let the tension get to you first. 

“Because I-I was scared if I told you the truth, you’d never tell me.” You puzzled him once again. You softly reach up between his furrowed eyebrows, the pad of your thumb smoothing it out. 

“Tell you what?” His mind was clouded with the possibilities of what he could have missed. 

“I can’t spell this one out for you.” You were tired of being the one to do everything first. Even if your intentions weren’t free from fault once you realized who he was, your feelings for him were anything but. 

“I don’t know what you want from me. You only let me fall for you because you knew how much it would hurt him.” He bit back, growing impatient and tired. “Any other time, I would have cared. Probably would have been more than happy to assist. But you made me-” 

Then Ransom cut himself off, jumping out of the swing and away from you. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I thought I could.” He literally sprinted to his beamer, but you chased him. 

You were hell bent and just as crazy as he was. Maybe it’s why it worked for as long as it did. 

“Hugh! Get back here.” You were running, thankful you’d gone for a more casual outfit today, the sneakers supporting your feet far better than the heels you’d usually wear. 

Maybe if it was someone with a normal childhood upbringing you would have just cut your losses but this was someone who chose to be called Ransom. 

This was someone who chose to run away from love and care because the only affectionate way he knew how to treat someone was to throw money at them. 

This was someone who had the communication of a ten year old because that’s when his own mother didn’t bother to mess with him anymore before sending him off to boarding school. 

This was someone who didn’t know how to love — and to be loved. 

By the time you caught up to him his was digging for his keys, but he couldn’t fucking find them. 

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale.” Your tone was sharp and he knew you meant business. “For once in your life, stop running away.” 

“Why not? What good has it ever done for me to stay?” His back was facing you, his broad shoulders stilled with the rest of his body. Almost like he was ashamed of what he was hiding. 

“I can’t speak for everyone else. I can’t speak for your mother or for Richard. For Harlan or for anyone else you thought might abandon you and really did.” You inched you way closer until you knew he felt how close you were to him.

“I can only speak for me.” Giving yourself, the final piece of you to a man who might run away from it. 

You were so close he felt your breath on his back, and it made him tremble. He was shaking, terrified of it all. You didn’t let him be for long. 

Intertwining your fingers with his, as he kept them at his sides, rubbing your thumb along the palm of his hand. 

“I’m sorry for the way I hurt you. Lied to you. You never deserved it. Never.” You thought it would be easier if he didn’t have to look at you while pouring your heart out to him. A theory proved to be right as he gave your hand a squeeze. 

“You’ve done nothing but treat me like a princess. You’ve done right by me, more than anyone else I’ve ever met in my life. It made me feel inadequate. My dark secret, always looming over us like a dark cloud of my own personal doing.” 

“I’m sorry I haven’t done the proper thing by us and made you feel like I used you. You had every right to feel it because I did.” You took a deep breath, mustering up the courage to face whatever the future held for the two of you. 

“I never expected to fall in love with a trust fund, playboy brat.” You felt him take a deep breath, like a breath he’d be holding all his life could finally be set free. 

“I love you, Hugh.” The next thing you knew he had you pushed up against the car, lips hungrily attacking your own. 

All forgiven because you love him. You actually were in love with him. 

He couldn’t fathom it really because you’d been the first. To accept him just as he was. The first to refuse to call him Ransom because you like the way Hugh rolled off your tongue better. 

You liked how he felt on your tongue, too. 

The first to tell him Fran and Marta should call him Hugh because you wanted to be the only one who got to. The first woman to cook for him, willingly and not attached to the Thrombey payroll. 

The first woman he had ever fallen in love with. 

The first one he’d stick around and not run away for. 

So, he kissed you. Hard. Softly whispering how much he loved you into the kiss, because maybe he wasn’t ready to say it outright. Loud and proud. 

Yet, he felt it with every bone of his body — no longer lost in the blues.

taglist: @tonystankschild @parkastoria @tinylumpiaa @brattycherubwrites

[forever-rogue]

could you possibly do 142 and 145 for Javier Peña, all the angst /hurt no comfort (depending on how you feel 🙂)

Prompts Used:

142. “I waited and waited, but you never came back.”

145. “I wasn’t going to wait around for you forever.”

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: language

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier swiped a tired hand over his face as he looked around your apartment. It was immaculately clean, which wasn’t far off the mark for you, but it was also empty. Now that was definitely wrong and cause for suspicion. He’d come to yours for dinner, like it had become his custom to do most nights when he wasn’t out working until the wee hours of the morning but this time was different. This time there was nothing he was coming home to. You were gone, all of your things were gone, no note, no call, nothing. It was like you had up and disappeared without a trace.

In his frantic efforts to soothe and ease his anxieties and worries, he had gone back to his apartment to see if you were there for some reason. Hell, he’d even called up Steve and asked him if he’d heard from you or anything. He was growing desperate. You were so open and communicative normally this was highly unlike you. At least he knew you were more than likely safe; it didn’t seem like anyone associated with Escobar knew who you were or that they would just come and pack up your things and take you. No...this was considerably more calculated and cunning. This was something that had been planned. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. That’s what it made it hurt so much worse; that’s what made his stomach twist and churn and his heart constrict. This was something that you had obviously been planning for a while.

He leaned against the wall before sliding down to the floor and looking at the ceiling as he tried to ground himself. His dark eyes were bloodshot and prickled with the unfamiliar sting of tears as he tried to figure what could have possibly happened. What changed so suddenly?

Javier had been so careful over the years, building so many walls and barriers to protect and guard himself. He’d steeled his heart and cut off displaying most emotions in order to preserve what little feeling and emotion he had left within himself. It seemed to dwindle to less and less every day. 

But then he’d let you; completely by chance and utterly by accident at a bar where he aided in protecting from a man that was relentless in his pursuit of you. You’d approached him with wide doe eyes, mouthing something he couldn’t quite make out - was it the noisy bar or the several drinks he’d already knocked back? - before throwing your arms around him and kissing him till you were both breathless before loudly declaring him your boyfriend for the other man to overhear. 

It wasn’t long after that before you really were calling him your boyfriend - and meaning it. For whatever reason, it was you that had been able to break down all of his walls and defenses, caringly and lovingly day by day. And while it terrified him, he let it happen little bit by bit until he realized why; he loved you. The realization had come to him slowly but surely and then it had hit him like a freight train. At first it had scared him to death; he never thought he’d experience those feelings again and yet here they were. And it all felt so easy, so simple and that’s how he knew. And when those three little words left his lips at the end of a quiet evening, while you two were just relaxing and watching an old film while knocking back a few beers, he didn’t mind at all. The way you’d looked back at him with those sweet, wide eyes and how softly you repeated it back had been everything to him. He hadn’t regretted the decision at all and for once in life, he was happy to be all in. 

But then...why had it led to this? There had been no major fight, no big disagreement that could have explained any of this. But you were just gone. 

A long, deep inhale and exhale escaped past dry, trembling lips. He’d been working more lately, that was for sure. The closer and closer they got to Escobar, the less and less time he’d had for you. And for the most part, you hadn’t questioned him, or anything of the sort; you’d expressed concerns for his health - physical and mental - and his safety, and pleaded with him to slow and not rush into things heads on, but he didn’t listen. Of course he didn’t. And you understood for the most part; he job was in no joke, no walk in the park. But still didn’t make things easier. You tried to be there for him as much as possible in whatever way he needed, but over time it became increasingly difficult. 

Nights spent together turned into Javier slinking into your bed in the early mornings and then leaving again before you were even up. He’d shown up on your doorstep injured more than a time or two, luckily never anything permanent, but it still hurt your heart. Even your weekend outings were becoming less and less frequent, turning into a relic of the past while you just missed him. If there would have been a way to help him, you would have but he had made it a point to keep you a separate part of his life. You didn’t know the horrors and never deserved too, he always claimed. What had started as something unstoppable and wild slowly fizzled into dying touches and unspoken words.

“Fuck,” he sighed to himself more than anything as he buried his face into his hands, “fuck.”

Javier remained there for a few moments, trying to gather his racing thoughts and come up with a logical conclusion on what could have happened. He was a smart man, and it really shouldn’t have been difficult for him to piece together. And then all at once, it hit him.

“Shit,” he jumped to his feet as he grabbed his keys and ran out to his car, ready to race to the airport. He was willing to pull any stunt to keep you grounded until he at least had the chance to speak to you. There was no doubt in his mind that you were planning an escape; from him and Colombia.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey!” Javier held up his DEA badge as he ran towards the terminal he had learned you were at. Boarding was set to begin in a few minutes so he was brazenly running like his life depended on it in order to get to you on time. He received more than a few curious glances as he weaved his way through people, his gaze honed in on you. You’d been sitting there, quietly reading, but as soon as you heard his shouts, you’d looked up in horror. He had the sneaking suspicion that you had hoped he wouldn’t put two and two together or if he did, that he wouldn’t find you in time.

“Dulzura!” he stopped directly in front of you as a hand clutched at his chest, his heart beating wildly and practically threatening to burst through, “I waited and waited and you never came back. Figured it out - what are you doing?”

“Javier,” you hissed as you slammed your book shut and put it away in your bag. Curious onlookers were almost staring at the two of you as you put a hand on his shoulder and dragged him off to the side, “what the hell are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” his dark eyes grew wide as he looked at you suspiciously, “what the hell are you doing here at the airport? Your whole apartment was packed and now you’re here?”

“My internship at the University ended last week,” you reminded him as a surprised look crossed his features. Of course he’d known...he was supposed to remember anyway. It had been marked on his calendar, but he’d been so damn busy with everything else he’d completely overlooked it. You’d even had plans to go out and celebrate...but instead he’d forgotten and you’d come home to a dark and empty apartment. 

“I-I knew that…”

“Did you?” you didn’t intend for your response to be so harsh, but it was venomous and biting “because you didn’t say a word. I didn’t even see or hear from you that day.”

“Dulzura, I’m so, so sorry. Please let me-”

“I have nothing keeping me here in Colombia anymore, Javier,” you told him quietly, and you loathed how horrible it sounded. You were trying to get a point across, but wished it didn’t have to be like this, “I’m going back home to the states.”

“You have nothing...you have me,” he reminded you, shock and horror marring his features as he tried to reach for you. You recoiled out of his touch for the first time, shocking you both, "please let me explain…"

"There's nothing to explain, Javier," his name was a soft sigh as you hung your head. Your heart was always feeling heavy as you looked at his crestfallen face, "its just...its not the first thing you've forgotten lately. Our anniversary, my birthday, now this."

"Dulzura-"

"I know your job is important, I know how much this means to you," a shaky exhale left your lips as a single tear rolled down your cheek, "that's why I haven't really complained. But I can't...I can't do this, where I'm the fourth or fifth priority in your life. I know your job needs you, and so many people depend on you. But I need you to be present too. Sometimes I feel like I'm alone more than I'm not. You're here but you're not really here. I know that it sounds selfish but I want you too."

"I know things have been crazy lately," he was tempted to reach up and touch your cheek but stopped himself. He wasn't sure if he could take more heartbreak, "but they’ll settle down...they'll get better and it will all be over soon. I swear it. I just need a little more time."

"And that's what you've been saying for months," it was a sharp, cruel reminder of how things had really been. You didn't want to be mad at him or end up resenting everything about him, which was partially the reason for how things had turned out, why you'd made your decision, "its like there's a whole part of you I don't even know, that happens to be a majority of your life."

"I just want to keep you safe," he huffed, running a hand through his already messy hair, "that's all. It's-"

"Dangerous," you finished for him, "I know, and I get it. I do but I just...I can’t do this anymore. Where I only get half of you, or even less. I know it’s horribly selfish and I might be the worst person alive, but I can’t...I can’t do this anymore, Javi. I want to be able to get all of you, and to know you’re safe and sound and that I don’t have to worry about...you getting hurt...or worse.”

“It won’t always be like this,” he insisted softly, as you nodded in agreement. One day things would come to a head, whether or not they were in his favor was yet to be determined. And you did love him, more than anything. More than life itself, and the idea of having to watch him get hurt over and over or worse...was too much to bear. And while it sounded cruel and horrible, you’d rather create a distance between yourselves and cut ties rather than deal with the insurmountable loss and grief of Javier, “I just need you to hold on a little longer…”

“Javier...I love you, but I...I wasn’t going to wait around forever,” you sighed lightly, “we both knew that my time here wasn’t permanent and we thought..this would be over by now. If I knew, or you could guarantee me that there was a way this would be over soon and you’d be safe, I would stay. I would. But right now there’s no way to know, and you’re getting further and further away from me and that scares me to death. I-I can’t protect you. I can’t do anything to help and I don’t want to be the one to…”

Deal with your death. 

“Okay,” it was a small sound of defeat as he fought back a whimper that threatened to escape past pouted lips. He knew you were right; gods, you deserved the world and he couldn’t even give you himself or even a semblance of a clear future together. He wished things had been different; and he was mad and angry, not at you but at the cruel world that had allowed him to experience a taste of such saccharine bliss before taking it all away again. He knew there was nothing he could do to convince you to say. None of the arguments were in his favor. He took a step back, lightly nodding at himself, trying to remain composed, “I get it. I do. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to be there for you how you needed. I’m sorry I couldn’t be enough.”

“You are more than enough, Javier,” you promised, reaching for his hand as you offered him a gentle touch, “it’s just the situation - the reality of things. I guess we’re not allotted the things we want in life, huh? I wish things were different. I-I wish I was strong to stay here and wait for you. But I can’t…”

Waste years of my life wondering if you were dead or alive. Worrying about my safety and yours and remaining helpless.

“I know,” he took his chances and leaned over, placing a kiss to the side of your head, “you’re right. You should go.”

“Javier,” you leaned into him, tears cascading down your cheeks as you wished you could hold onto him and never let go, “I’m sorry, I really am. I love you, more than you'll ever know. But I just...I tried to tell you I was leaving. But every time I did, you weren't really there or the time wasn’t right. I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” he promised softly, “that’s why this hurts more than anything else. I… can’t stop you and you need to do what’s right. This is right. So...go home and be safe. Maybe one day…”

“We’ll see each other again, I promise. One way or another, in this life or the next,” you tenderly cradled his face in your hands before kissing him one last time, “but right now I have to go. I love you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly as you let go, almost jumping at the boarding announcement. Pulling back, you offered him the ghost of a smile before grabbing your bags and heading to check in. 

Javier didn’t turn around to watch you go, instead hanging his head before exhaling loudly, attempting to shake off this situation. He steeled himself again, willing the Javier he used to be to come back up before he walked away and out of the airport, never so much as casting a glance back.

This part of his life was over and done with and he was going to let it die like so many other things.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[twinklelilstarkey]

Kicked Out - Rafe Cameron

Words: 1.8k+

Type: Angst

Summary: Rafe is kicked out of the house by Ward and runs to you when it happens.

Warnings: Being kicked out. And a whole lot of crying. This is so depressing, jeez louise.

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

(You can imagine this with canon Rafe, since it’s based of a scene from the show. But that literally doesn’t change a thing to the story, so... do what you’d like)

Credits

Tears are already dry on Rafe’s face. They’ve stopped running down his cheeks as he was able to walk his way out of the Cut. And now, he’s just a few steps away from his home.

Or at least what he used to call home.

His phone is already low on battery, but from the times he checked it, it has been almost an hour since his dad left him with Barry.

The muscles of his legs are aching as he continues to walk his way to the front door. The front door and front garden are illuminated by the automatic yellow lights, which almost seem blinding his sensitive eyes.

He unlocks the front door with his key slowly to try and keep the house with its natural silence.

He steps in, head pounding under his fingertips once he brings them to his temples.

And all he can feel is pure exhaustion.

Passing through the lobby of the house was easy, his shoes didn’t make any loud noise to catch anyone’s attention and he didn’t knock anything over. But that invisibility to his family only lasted until he walked past the living room.

“Rafe?” Wheezie says over the sound of the TV, still sitting next to her mom.

“Shit” He whispers to himself.

He ignores his stepsister’s voice and forces his legs to move towards the stairs and up to his room.

The small girl, with the absence of his answer, gets up from the couch and walks towards the door. But as she got there, Rafe has already made his way up the stairs.

She follows him, without a care in the world, only trying to make simple conversation. But as soon as her eyes land on him, she frowns. He looked tense and seemed as if he was careful to even step into the floor of his own home.

He opens the door of his room and sighs, taking in the last looks before he has to leave.

Wheezie, equally as careful with her steps, walks to his wide-open door and is surprised to see him grab a duffel bag and a backpack from the last drawer of the wardrobe.

“Are you going camping or something?” She finally talks.

Rafe looks up quickly, alert by the loud sound of his sister’s voice, and the girl scowls at his face.

Eyes swollen and red and cheeks flushed. Which could mean many things. But his sniffles were the last clue.

“Have you been cri-” She starts but a voice stops her.

“Wheezie what are you doing in Ra- What are you doing here?” Ward asks as he peeks inside the room and sees the son he just kicked out.

“I- Uhm... I-I’m packing” Rafe answers, careful with his words.

Ward studies his son with a rigid look on his face and clenches his jaw.

“Make it quick”

“Yes, sir” He answers, looking back down to his bags.

Rafe, right there and then, turned to his wardrobe and grabbed everything he could see, shoving it into the bags.

“What is going on?” Wheezie asks her brother loudly as he runs through the room, trying to find everything he might need.

“I got kicked out”

Rafe sniffles again and opens one more drawer, grabbing all the socks and underwear he could see.

The silence fills the room once more, and this time it’s heavy and dense. Almost making it hard to breathe.

Wheezie stands in the doorway, holding her own sweaty hands while watching Rafe pack up all of his belongings in silence, not knowing what to say or ask.

Rafe grabs his charger from his desk and shoves it in the already full bag. He stands straight quickly and pulls his phone out of his pocket, 2%.

He quickly unlocks it and scrolls through his contacts, clicking on your name. He stares down at the contact picture before bringing it to his ear, as wave of warmth and comfort washes over him as he stares at you.

His eyes fill up in tears and he stares up at the wall, bringing the phone up to his ear, listening to the ringing and waiting for you to pick up.

Voice mail.

“Fuck” He whispers to himself.

He can always sleep over at Topper’s but that doesn’t seem... right.

He turns back to his bags once more and closes them, throwing both over his shoulder as he checks around the room to see if he forgot anything.

“Where are you going to stay?” Wheezie asks, making the boy look down at her again.

“I don’t know yet” He answers, voice cracking slightly at the end.

Rafe clears his throat as to act as if it wasn’t what it sounded like and Wheezie’s eyes fill with tears at the sound of it. Rafe looks away, biting his lip as a way to fight the wave of emotions that’s coming his way, and walks towards the doorway, closer to her.

“Will you visit?” She asks.

Her voice is low, almost a whisper. Almost sounding as if she’s scared of what words to use. But filled with sadness and shaking at every syllable.

“I don’t think I can” He replies, voice as shaky.

Wheezie, with that, wraps her arms around Rafe and hugs his torso. A sob escapes her mouth and Rafe looks away from her again, not wanting to break down once more.

(...)

You’re deep into your sleep at around midnight, notifications off your phone and random episodes of a random reality show play as background noise.

You’ve had a rough week with college, but you’re finally done with your tests. You only have to worry about projects now.

A light knock on your door awakes you and you stare at the darkness of your dorm in confusion. Who in their right mind is knocking at your door at 3am?

You try and ignore it, hoping that it’s just a drunk college student, trying to find his room while intoxicated.

But the person doesn’t give up.

You sigh loudly while throwing your covers off you, letting the cold air touch your warm skin. You shiver slightly as you put on the hoodie that rests at the end of your bed but it’s warmth quickly calms you down.

You walk towards the door, trying your best to not trip over anything on the dark room, and open it.

“Rafe?” You ask in a whisper.

You cringe at the strong lighting of the hallways and your boyfriend stares down at you. You turn on the light beside you and you frown at him.

“What’s wrong?”

Rafe visits you every weekend, so seeing him at your door at a Friday night is not too rare. But he’s never this late.

Or with bags this full.

“Can I come in?” He asks, low tone.

You nod and open the door widely so he can walk in comfortably.

The warmth of the room welcomes Rafe as soon as he steps in, and he puts down both of his bags beside the door.

You grab his hand, not only to get a hold of him but also to get his attention, and he looks away from the floor to look at you.

“Is everything okay?” You ask with the sweetest tone you could pull off.

Rafe lifts his gaze somewhere else at your question, not wanting to continue eye contact. He just shakes his head as a ‘no’, as emotions overflow him and make his chin shake.

You pull his hand towards your hip and quickly wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Rafe does the same, wrapping his arms around you as he lays his head on top of yours.

He doesn’t want to cry in front of you, but it’s getting harder and harder as he holds it in.

“You can tell me anything” You whisper into his chest, voice muffled by his shirt, “You know that”

“I know” He says, this time louder, but shakier.

You lift your head up to look at him and the sight just breaks your heart into an uncountable amount of pieces.

“Let’s sit” You tell him as a way to try and make him feel more comfortable.

He nods and let’s go of you for that minute, slowly. You grab his hand again and pull him to sit next to you on the bed. You sit quietly looking at him as his hand grabs onto yours tightly.

“Dad kicked me out” He whispers while looking at the ground, not wanting to see your reaction.

“What?” You ask shocked, “why?”

“I fucked up” He replies, shrugging his shoulders, “Like always” he adds.

With that you let go of his hand and cup his face. His warm hand now sits on your cold leg as you force him to look at you.

Tears have escaped Rafe’s eyes as he stared into the ground, and when staring at you, it only made it worse.

“Bubba, I-”

“I fucked up really bad” He emphasizes.

You clean his tears with your thumbs and he stares at you silently.

“Do you have a place to stay?” You ask him and he shakes his head.

Rafe looks away again, blinking his new tears away as he pretends to look out of the window. Your hands now resting at his jaw and back of his head, caressing him.

“You can stay here, with me” You offer, “I don’t share this dorm with anyone... And they almost never check who is sleeping on each dorm, anyways”

He stares back at you and clenches his jaw.

“Can I?” He asks, “It will be temporary, I- I promise”

“Of course, you can. As long as you need”

Rafe gives you a small broken smile and wraps his arms around you again, pulling you towards his side in a hug. You wrap your arms around his neck and give in to the tight hug. One of your hands rests over his hair and you play with it slowly, as a way to comfort him.

You two stay like this for a bit, just until you need to go lock your dorm room door again and turn off the lights.

Rafe lays with you as you come back to bed, and after you offered to give him more blankets or even more comfortable clothes (previously stolen a few months back from his room).

You lay over his chest, letting him play with the ends of your hair as always as you watched whatever is on the screen of your laptop.

You fell asleep almost an hour later of cuddling and laying in the silence.

But Rafe didn’t. The first minutes of you being asleep were calm and quiet. Almost made it seem like he was back to his past reality.

But he didn’t blink an eye the whole night. Because that’s his true reality now. He’s not ready to walk alone for the rest of his life. Even with you. He’s not ready for anything.

Nobody prepared him for this, especially his own dad. And he’s scared of it. Maybe even terrified of what’s to come.

And there’s nothing he can do but let it happen. And that terrifies him.

- - - - - - -

Why do I only write angst? Is this too depressing? I’m so sorry.

My requests for Rafe are still open! You can request anything (except for smut)!

[Ask Box]

[wolfish-trickster]

Old oak tree

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,3K+

Warning: typos, angst, itsi bitsi fluff at the end

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @forevernthensome @kozkaboi

"So, what do you think?" Loki asked spreading his arms and showing you his new outfit.

You shrugged. "Looks good to me."

"Don't you think it's too much?" he checked himself in your mirror.

"Is anything EVER too much for you?" you asked with a smirk.

"I just...I really like her and I don't want to mess up."

"You won't, trust me," you reassured him.

He hugged you tightly, to your surprise. "What would I do without such a friend like you?"

The younger prince bolted from your room faster than you could answer. You sighed and closed the doors after him so no one could hear your heart breaking, again.

You and Loki were friends. Best friends actually. But you started to to see him more than that years ago. And you hated it.

You already accepted the fact he'll see you as only his supportive friend. If only he could stop asking you to help him woo his love interests. He always asked your opinion on everything. Flowers, his outfits, gifts he wanted to give them.

Once he even asked to kiss you so he could practice. It was in general your and his first kiss ever. Your head spinned when your life long best friend and crush in one person gently placed his lips on yours, his tongue sliding to your mouth. When he pulled away he just mumbled simple 'thanks' and ran away, leaving you flustered and with a face on fire under your favourite tree. At first you often sat under that old oak, remembering the feeling and smiling to yourself. However with every new interest of Loki you started to avoid the poor tree. Hate it even. You hated how it represented how you foolishly threw away your first kiss.

You still stood by Loki. What else could you do? Confess your feelings? As if that'll help.

You started to see pattern in his interests and you never managed to tic the boxes. You were only average among everything; intelligence, looks, skills. There were hundred and one people who were exactly like you. Loki would never choose you over a noble woman or man he was used to courting.

Now, when you were finally alone, you could think about what are you going to do about your never ending crush. You layed down on your bed and stared at your white ceiling. You already tried to avoid him in hopes you will loose your feelings for him, that didn't work. You wrote down every negative thing about him, trick your mind he isn't a good boyfriend material. Didn't work either since he is the kindest person you've ever met. And the gentlest. And nicest. With the most beautiful smile and eyes. And arms that give the coziest hugs.

"Fuck," you whispered and closed your eyes. It always ended like this. No matter how much you tried, you could never see him as something less than a great person he was.

Suddenly you heard his melodic laughter under your windows. As well as some girl's. You couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what? If he can date around, so can I!" you told yourself in pure desperation to get rid of the jealousy and pain from knowing he will never love you.

First thing you did was hiding everything he gave you as a child, every little trinket you cherished in false thought he's starting to catch feelings for you. You removed all of it from your shelves and put in a big box sliding it under your bed.

There, now onto the more complicated part: the oak of your very first kiss. Your heart ached with every step you took towards it. It was already old and not so full of life like it used to be. Its bark was dry and overgrown with moss. The poor thing didn't have enough energy to grow its leaves as viscoulsy like few years ago. No one visited it anymore. It was lonely just like you.

"Looks like you're few years from death, old buddy," you patted its trunk. "Let's end your missery now."

*

You were on your way back to your room holding a little pot filled with soil. Nothing was growing out yet, but in few months you were expecting a small oak sappling to grow. You couldn’t say goodbye to your old wooden friend just yet.

There, deep in halls, sounds are resonating. Sounds you soon came to hate. Kissing, Loki chuckling, some woman moaning, door closing.

You sadly looked down at the pot and took the biggest diversion to your room, avoiding coming any near Loki's bedroom.

*

Few days later you still avoided Loki. That time was the first time he had brought anyone to his bedroom to do....that. It was good he didn't ask you to practice on you. If he did, you would've.... you don't know what would you do. Probably panic first and get angry next.

While Loki was, let's say, occupied you got closer to one soldier, Arne. He was kind, tall, ginger with freckles and very skilled fighter. He wasn't the smartest but he had a sense of humor and always tried to make you laugh. He wasn't Loki though, but it didn't matter. At least you kept yourself busy, so your heart could heal.

Right now you were in stables with Arne. He was telling you how he got his first horse when he finished his soldier training few decades back. You were braiding his mare's mane as he stood right beside you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. Everything was at peace.

"Y/N! Y/N, WHERE ARE YOU?" came Loki's voice.

Almost everything.

You turned your head towards his voice. He was rushing towards you until he stopped when he noticed Arne standing so close to you.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked a little irritated.

"Well-"

"It doesn't matter, I have to show you something," he took you by the hand and started dragging you out of the stables only for you to slip your hand from his and hugging Arne. "See you tomorrow," you waved him goodbye and walked out, Loki trailing after you.

"So, what is it you wanted to show me?"

"What the Hel was that?" he pointed at you and behind him at the stables, completely ignoring your question.

"A hug. Why?"

"Since when are you hugging random soldiers? And since when are you even hanging out with low ranking soldiers like Hofferson?"

"His first name is Arne, and I'm allowed to hug whoever I want. Same goes for hanging out. Now are you going to show me the thing or can I return to him?"

"Right," he remember, took your hand again and ran to gardens. To the familiar now empty corner. "Look what some bastard did," he pointed at the wide oak stump.

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? Oh, darling," he threw his arms around you. You fought with yourself internally to not hug him back, but being close to him after a very long time felt just too good not to give in.

"I'm so sorry. I know it was your favourite tree. I will find the culprit and-"

"You don't have to," you interrupted and pulled yourself away from him.

"I do! That tree meant a lot to me too. I was actually working on a spell to bring life into it again."

"And how exactly did it mean a lot to you? I never saw you even near that tree."

Loki stuttered. "E-ehm, we had our first kiss underneath it."

"As if that meant anything to you," you muttered.

"What?"

"I said it was old and it had to be cut down."

"Well you could've asked me before you killed it," he spat rather angrily.

"My family planted it, I get to do whatever I want with it!"

"Did it mean so little to you?"

"No. On the contrary, it meant the world to me! That's why I had to cut it down!"

"What? Why? I don't understand you," he shook his head.

"Well excuse me for wanting to destroy the biggest thing that reminded me how my best friend stole my first kiss!"

"Stole? I asked and you complied!" Loki defended himself.

You groaned. "Okay fine, you didn't steal it, I lost it. Now can I go back to Arne?"

"Lost it?! Have you got any idea how many people would murder for a kiss from a prince? And why do you want to go to Arne so desperatelly? You never talked to soldiers before, so why the change of heart?"

"I like him, he's nice and courageous and-"

"I forbid it."

"What?!" you couldn't believe your ears.

"I forbid it. You can't whore around with soldiers like him, think about your reputation!" he crossed his arms infront of him.

"Whore around? Look who's talking! You've had at least 5 lovers in the past month!"

"T-that's different."

"And how exactly is it different, Loki?"

"I-"

You waited. Nothing came out of him.

"That's what I thought."

*

Few days passed, you continued avoiding Loki and he started to close off from everyone. Occasionally you saw some green sparkles in a shape of a person sitting on the oak stump. You figured that must be Loki under cloaking spell. All you wanted to do was run to him and hug him, he looked so depressed and lonely. Just like you were when you saw him with all those lovers in the past.

You felt bad for him. But you doubted he felt bad for you back then. Or now. So you always walked pass him, pretending you didn't notice him.

*

*knock knock*

You looked up from watering your growing oak sapling. Who could it be? You weren't expecting anyone. "Who's there?"

"Guess," came a dull voice.

You put away your watering kettle and hid the pot behind courtains. "Come in, Loki."

He stepped inside wearing one of his ordinary clothes, his hair wasn't slicked back like he used to style it and he had apologetic expression on his face.

"Y/N, I came to apologize."

Loki is apologizing. Now that's new. "What for?" you asked teasingly.

He sighed. "For saying you were whoring around. It wasn't right from me," he pulled out your favourite flower from behind his back, "friends?"

You took the flower. "Okay, friends."

Loki clapped his hands excitedly. "Great, now that we're at good terms with eachother I-"

"No!" you silenced him. You knew there had to be a catch. He made up with you just so he could ask you for help. Just like always.

"You don't even know what I was about to say."

"Oh, I think I do. You want me to give you advices again. Well, guess what? That's not happening. So you can, as mortals say, do 180 and walk out that door," you pointed behind him to your bedroom door.

Loki held out his hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to ask you that! I just want to talk."

"Oh," now you felt stupid. "Okay, a little talk never killed anyone I guess."

"Thank you," he let his hands fall down and took a walk around your room. "I see you were redecorating," he noticed all of his trinkets he gave you were gone. He assumed you most likely threw them out or burned them. Just the thought of it hurt him.

"Yeah," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself. "I still have them, I just didn't want to look at them anymore."

He turned towards you. "Why? First the tree, then my little gifts. What's next, me?" he joked to ease both your and his growing anxiety.

You chuckled lightly and shook your head. "No, don't worry."

He walked to you and put his hand on your shoulders. "Then why? We're best friends, right? We can tell eachother everything."

"That's exactly what I can't do," you grabbed his hand on your shoulder and slowly removed them.

"Why? Do you... do you hate me?"

"What? Heavens no! I could never hate you!"

He sighed from relief. "Good. But then why? I can't think of a single reason you would do those things. Wait. On a second thought," he held his chin between his thumb and index finger and looked down like he always does when he was thinking. He shook his head then and chuckled to himself. "No, that's absurd. You could never be in love with me."

You involuntarily tensed up. He noticed.

"Or could you?"

Tears started burning in your eyes as you nodded. "Sorry."

"For how long?"

After few minutes of thinking you shook your head. "I don't remember when it happened. It just happened."

"Well, when did you realise then? That you...you know? Are in love with me?"

"Few days before the oak kiss, I guess."

"But that was decades ago! This long time and I never saw," he facepalmed.

"And you...?" you asked hopefully. Maybe he will tell you he loves you too, right?

He sighed. "I'm sorry Y/N. I love you, but not like that. You have always been like a little sister I always wanted."

You nodded. Of course he doesn't love you like that. How even could he? You turned away from him and let some tears escape.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rubbed your back. "We can still be friends. Nothing will change between us. I promise."

But it already did. Everything changed for you. How could you even look him in the eye?

You wiped away your tears and put on a perfectly rehearsed fake smile. "Okay, I can work with that," you offered him your hand, "friends?"

Instead of shaking it he hugged you. "Friends."

You hugged him back and let your fake smile fall. Your naive little self told you he will change his mind in the future. You are already so close with eachother. Closer than anyone you know. It's just a matter of time. For now, you can only dream.

[writing-in-april]

Dr Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (3/?)

Part three: the gift

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: The next meeting rolls around and Reader tries to get Spencer to open up in baby steps. Turns out he was more willing to let her in than she first expected.

Part One, Part Two

Series Masterlist

A/N: Heyyy this is my third part for Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde!!! It’s also the fifteenth installment of my 30 fics in 30 days for April event! The plot is finally about to pick up y’all!!!! I’ve got so many plans where this series is headed (though I don’t know necessarily where it’s going to end) and I’m really excited!!! This chapter brings in other references from non gothic literature as well which was fun to do- these references and metaphors are really fun to craft. I’m curious to see y’all’s reaction to this part- leave me an ask if you want here (I promise I won’t bite 🧛🏻‍♀️) Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Soft dom Spencer that turns back into slightly mean dom Spencer, Public sex, Masturbation (F), Oral sex (M receiving), Face fucking, Reader has a nickname- I think that’s it let me know if there needs to be anything else

Main Masterlist Word Count: 4.1k 😱

A meeting of the classics was once again scrawled on the whiteboard when you entered the library. It had the usual time 7pm to 11:30pm written right underneath. Instantly you fell down the rabbit hole and into another world, reality was turned on its head whenever you opened those wooden doors. Every encounter you had in the shelves, in the reading rooms, and even at the information desk seemed like you were walking into a world crafted by a surrealist. Everything was just slightly twisted and turned to feel slightly off from the reality outside those doors. It oddly made you feel more at home than your own apartment.

Each time a meeting rolled around you’d get an email notification a few weeks prior, informing you as to what the theme would be. The book club was already more extravagant than any other you had ever heard before, adding to the surrealist nature of where you were located. Last time was a somewhat lavish affair, this time it was coated in fleeting luxury.

Sure, the 1920s theme with the undeniable tinge of influence from The Great Gatsby would always lend itself to luxury, even with cheap decorations. But, the way the decor around you almost felt real told you exactly what your monthly entrance fee was going towards. You could complain about the steep price of admission, it could burn a hole into your wallet if you weren’t so careful. At any rate it did not matter, you were sure they wouldn’t care if you complained, and besides this was the only thing you really every splurged on. Plus there was the added aspect of the person you would no longer be able to indulge in if you let your membership lapse.

It was nice to treat yourself, get a taste of what it would be like to live basking in luxury 24/7. Flutes of champagne were passed around like hot cakes, admittedly they were non alcoholic after an incident a few months prior before you joined with some whiskey. It could have been a rumor fed to you by some of the vapid attendees to stir the pot so the library may cave to make their guests happy. You were going to keep your mouth shut because truth be told you didn’t mind that they were non alcoholic. You wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to be sober for Spencer.

Normally whenever a meeting rolled around you’d gladly be mingling with everyone around you. Even if personally you viewed some of their insights on whatever book they wished to discuss as shallow, seeing another’s perspective was always intriguing.

Something, namely someone, lurking in the shadows had your attention instead. It felt strikingly similar to the night of your first encounter, his eyes piercing into you, undressing you with them. The only thing that had changed is that you knew his name with some small added details. You didn't even know what type of Doctor he was, let alone what kind of man he was. But, you hoped tonight might change your prospects.

You had gotten a peek underneath the mask each time, just enough to pull you in closer. Whatever might lurk beneath, which still may be dangerous, for right now made you thrum with excitement. Spencer was just as surreal to you as the rest of the library, though he was definitely more shadowy than the others. It wouldn’t surprise you if he wasn’t real outside of here.

He could possibly just be a ghost trapped to roam the halls that instead of wanting to scare you, pleasured you. It was a silly thought for sure, but until he divulged more you struggled to convince yourself that he was real, even though his touch certainly did. The world was very different outside the library’s doors and you’d be content to be locked inside of it, that is if Spencer opened his own doors.

You circled each other for a while, neither of you talking to anyone, just staring with lust in your eyes. Tired of this cat and mouse game that you were unwilling to break out of stubbornness, he set down an empty ‘champagne’ flute to weave through the crowd to meet you.

No small talk or pleasantries came out of his mouth when he started your first conversation of the night, “At least you fit the theme this time.”

He had gestured to the dress you had chosen, a simple fringed red dress that very obviously was inspired by the era. It definitely gave you a sense of allure that leaned dark along with your dark lipstick, giving you your own cloak of mystery to match Spencer’s. At least there was a cloak for everyone else; Spencer could read you like an open book even with all your secrets. Spencer just had the ability to speed read them faster than any other human.

There was still depth to you, seemingly boundless, and certainly much more than the staple embodiment of a 1920s woman at a party being eyed at by man. You were no Daisy Buchanan that’s for sure, and Spencer was no Gatsby from what you have seen.

“As I told you last time I did fit the theme, Spencer.” You kept your lips shut tight about the fact that you had partially chosen this dress for him, picking a much more historically accurate style within your budget. Skating around the topic with ease you then teased, “Was that your way of complimenting my dress?”

“No…” That definitely meant yes, just by going off of the way he eyed your curves.

“At least you have it easy, you only have to throw on a suit, which is boring.” He snorted at that and didn’t disagree with your stinging jab at men’s fashion.

“That’s true, I don’t think I would want to see you in a boring suit, Shelley.” Inching closer to you so he possessively put a hand on your waist. He was close enough now that you could feel his breath on the exposed skin on your neck, a shiver trickling down your spine at that. His next words had a different reaction from you, your panties getting damp immediately after, “A dress has easier- access.”

The conversation turned from your typical banter into innuendos covered in mystery just like you both, with Spencer’s not being an act like you were trying to put on. You could let him do whatever he wanted to you again, which you thoroughly enjoyed, but there was a lingering fantasy you hadn’t voiced that had been in your head since he pinned you against the shelves.

“You didn’t let me reciprocate last time.” You whispered into his ear, your dirty intentions hidden by innocent words. The people around you had no idea what was going on, still milling about while you leaned in closer, only a few people looking over at you both curiously before moving on. Your next move was bold, wrapping your hand around his tie to pull him in closer, so you could keep your request a secret for his ears alone, “Will you allow me to return the favor?”

By the way his face twisted up at your words you knew you were testing a limit. All of your encounters thus far had been him touching you, not you touching him.

“Thought you would have forgotten about that by now.” This was his attempt to change the subject, to move on and expect that you’ll drop it just like him.

Everyone you knew called you stubborn for a reason, gripping his tie even harder you then doubled down, “Will you let me?”

It was highly unlikely that you were going to get a verbal response to your request, most likely you were about to get rejected, hard. You had tested your limits throughout your small time together. This however was entirely different and potentially over the line as to what Spencer would willingly allow.

Instead of shutting you out and shutting down he surprised you by opening his mouth to form the word, “Yes.”

With that you started to tug him out of the room, discreetly of course to not attract any unwanted attention and you didn’t pull him by his tie. Your fingers were wrapped around his wrist delicately, his first taste of you touching him while you guided him to a spot for your clandestine affair.

Your eagerness made you too impatient to wait and find a better secluded spot away from the crowd. The corner you chose was beyond risky to say the least, only a wall separating the both of you and the club guests. If you were lucky and went quickly you’d avoid being caught.

You wondered how long it had been since someone had offered to do this for him, instead of him probably forcing them to their knees while he continued to control the encounter with their consent. His steadfast control over each time he touched you had never wavered up until this point.

“You tell me if you want me to stop.”

He gulped hard, giving you a look like he was considering stopping you. Ultimately he kept his mouth shut, letting you drop to your knees and begin to unbutton his slacks. You worked quickly, unsure how much time you had without being caught in this little corner barely off to the side you chose or how long Spencer would let you touch him with impunity.

You hadn’t been able to really get a good look at his cock, either you had been facing away from it or it was trapped in the confines of the slacks he always wore. When you freed him from his boxers you could not help but admire it, even if only for a second.

Beautiful was an odd way to describe a cock, but there was no other word you could really find in the moment while you were on your knees. He was already hard, even leaking at the tip, and all from a few teasing words from your mouth. You’d have to test your affect on him more in the future, it obviously excited him.

When you held it in your hands and licked him from his base to tip, he had to bite on his fist at the suddenness of your touch. You pumped him a few times languidly before bringing the head to your lips and letting it slip into your mouth. He was allowing you to explore without fear of any repercussions. His hand that now rested at the back of your head being the only signal that he could take back the control anytime he wanted.

When you began to bob your head a wave of new precum hit your tongue. The taste of Spencer on your tongue was to put it lightly, intoxicating, you’d be content to taste him everyday if he let you.

Hoping too much would be your downfall if you let it, you pushed it out of your mind so you could be content with the baby steps forward you were taking. This right here, was him being vulnerable, even with you on his knees. You’d have to tread carefully if you wanted another crack in his mask to see even his darkest features, not a chink in his armor that would have him running away injured.

You weren’t sure what made the energy shift in the corner you were on your knees in, you suspected it was the soft caress of your hand along his thigh. He clammed up, suddenly wanting to take back control of the situation, no longer content with being vulnerable. It was quite clear to you that he saw giving up his control as a moment of weakness, just by going off of the once content look on his face that had twisted and seized up in frustration. Whatever he would let you do to him or whatever he wanted to do to you would always leave you wet with desire. It would however, be a lie to say that you didn’t want to see him back in a similar position one day. Getting him to be vulnerable for any extended period of time, even if it was while you were on his knees for him in a typical position for submission, was a form of progress. A little bit twisted, yes, but it still was progress.

Control fell back easily into his hands, now wasn’t the time to fight him on it; you’d be a good girl for now. The hand that had been resting gently on the back of your head tightened its grip to start controlling the pace.

You let your hand let go of his cock, resting them both on his thighs now instead. Your eyes were glassy as you tried to meet his sable irises while he began to thrust into your mouth. All you could really see was his Adam’s apple bobbing, curls falling as his head tipped back with his jaw slack. At first his thrusts had tested the waters, to see how much you could take. They then became more forceful when you gripped his thighs through his slacks and tried to pull him close.

The corner you had pulled him into was more exposed than any previous dalliance. Last time, even though it was out in the open, the stacks of shelves piled high with books shielded you along with his body pinned on top of yours. In comparison, this time you could hear the people laughing and mingling about in the next room over.

That only made you keen, moaning around him softly when you heard someone start a conversation close to the shared wall. Spencer, ever astute to your actions, picked up on what had you moaning around him. He forced your head down as far as you could go, your nose almost nuzzling the hairs at his base. He held you there harshly for a moment while he spoke, “You like it when we’re close to getting caught don’t you? That’s why you chose this spot isn’t it? You aren’t just satisfied with sneaking around, you want to get caught doing it.”

Before you could confirm or deny his questions you had to pull off of him so you could catch your breath. A string of spit connected from your mouth to the top of his cock remained unbroken until he brought his thumb to your mouth so you could continue to suck on something. He bent down to look at you, inspecting your makeup melted by tears and your spit covered lips. When he then moved his thumb from out of your mouth to grip your cheeks hard you whimpered, wondering what you did wrong, “Answer my questions.”

You scrambled to answer to avoid any type of punishment. You couldn’t make him feel good the way you wanted to if he was angry at you. Trying to muster up some conviction failed as your answer still came out shaky, “Y-yes! I-I liikeee it, Doctor!”

Satisfied with your answer and the amount of time your break had been he let go of the grip on your cheeks to resume. He slipped back inside your mouth swiftly, seeing no need to start out slow again. This time when you looked up, you found him meeting your irises with his own making you squirm underneath his piercing gaze.

“Touch yourself, we don’t have time for both of us.” With any other man you would have been irritated because mostly likely they were unwilling to finish a girl off. Spencer however, had proven he was consistently capable of that from you two previous interactions. He was also right, the place you had chosen was going to be flooded with people soon as they left the party. It was around this time that a group of people got bored and left which you didn’t understand. Why would they pay the money if they were just going to leave early?

You maneuvered your hands underneath the fringed edge of your dress, then bypassing your panties by pushing them to the side. There was no need to tease yourself, sucking off Spencer had you soaking through your flimsy lace panties. You pushed two of your fingers inside your entrance, curling them to deliciously hit at that sweet spot inside you. Even though you were enjoying the way he fucked your face in combination with you touching yourself, your fingers didn’t feel as euphoric as Spencer’s long fingers that could pull an orgasm out of you in seconds.

Spencer was nearing his release, his hips stuttering as it came closer. More tears prickled at the corner of your eyes out of frustration that you were having trouble reaching the edge with your own fingers. Spencer of course saw your frustration and began to coax you to the edge,

“Come on Shelley I know you can do it, I know you can make yourself cum for me.” Spencer’s words weren’t nearly as good as your fingers, but it did help that final push towards the edge. Falling over the edge together was a heady feeling, pleasure sparking through your veins while Spencer filled your mouth. You focused on swallowing it all down as best as you could, only a bit escaping the sides of your mouth.

When it was all said and done Spencer tucked himself back into his boxers, then rebuckling the belt holding his slacks up. He then outstretched a hand towards you, who was crumpled on the floor looking absolutely ruined. It was a simple gesture, taking his hand so you didn’t wobble on your heels as much. To you however it seemed like a weighted moment, subtly showing that you were willing to take whatever he may give to you.

He then suddenly pushed a book in your hands, which came seemingly out of thin air, only soon after you had cleaned up the corners of your mouth by licking your lips. You had been just about to clean the remnants of your makeup that was streaming down your cheeks with a makeup wipe that had been in your purse. He had other plans, putting the book in your hands and grabbed the wipe from you. He began to use the wipe to clean you off, caressing your cheeks softly this time. His movements were gentle as the cleanser in the cloth, every gentle touch that came directly after the hard made you want to fall into the dark abyss with him. You had almost moved forward to kiss him until he unintentionally stopped you by starting to wipe your smeared lipstick off. Once he was done with that you then looked down at the book he had forced you to take.

“What is this?” Your brows furrowed in question at the unexpected gift. Your relationship had a loose definition, really none at all, to get a gift felt like it was supposed to mean something. He had gifted you something in the past, the nickname you now couldn’t seem to shake, and you supposed the multiple orgasms could be classified as gifts to some.

This felt bigger than that, at least to you. But, how were you supposed to know what his train of thought was when you didn’t know anything about him. Most of what you did know contradicted each other anyway. There was no way to predict a man who had two distinct sides of him, neither of which he’d divulge more than surface level information about.

“I thought it was quite obvious, it’s a book.” His nonchalant response through you for a loop, causing you to stammer a bit. However, he did not let you form a complete thought, steamrolling you with sudden excitement, “An old copy of Frankenstein to be exact, Shelley.”

Looking down you traced your fingers over the spine on the vintage book. You weren’t sure how old the book was, you’d have to check that later. It wasn’t that you didn’t see the potential value in owning an old edition of a book, but the gesture still confused you. Instead of dwelling on a question that you weren’t going to get a straight answer for if you asked, you tried to tease him, “But I have already read it, you know that.”

He took your jab at his listening skills in stride and again was cagey as always with his response, “I do know that, that isn’t why I bought it for you.”

“Why?”

“That is for me to know, and for you to potentially figure out.” He was now moving to leave the corner, about to leave you hanging in the wind scrambling to figure out whatever he was talking about. You scrambled to follow, which caused you to almost crash into him when he abruptly stopped. “I’ll give you a hint, flip to page 56.”

Flipping it open to the page you noticed that it wasn’t a page of any significance, no famous quotes were highlighted or major climactic scenes happening.

“There isn’t anything in here.” Exasperation was evident in your voice, he was too hard to read, certainly not as hard as the book in front of you. His intentions were the hardest to figure out, he could be stringing you along in his web, bringing you closer until he devoured you like a spider with a fly.

The air itself was filled with monsters, more like potential monsters lurking waiting to reveal their intentions. The dark was often desirable, but it would be naive of you to trust it without question. There was still something about Spencer that made you want to blindly trust without question that his monsters had beauty in them. You couldn’t deny that being devoured by him sounded enticing.

“Look again.” And with a fleeting kiss on your lips that he was gone, slipping back into the party like nothing had happened. It left you to wait until he graced you with his presence next with no way to contact him. At least that’s what you thought until you followed his suggestion and looked again.

There, nestled in between two pages of the book rested a strip of paper. The handwriting on it was messy, slanted heavily in one direction and partially smudged as if written rapidly. You could still make out the ten digits written in navy blue ink, your breath caught up in your throat at that.

At the bottom there was a simple dash then right next to it read his name, Spencer. With no titles or anything else written.

The simplicity of his name written sloppy in pen ink made you want to clutch it to your heart in disbelief. The book already was too much, to big a gesture for what was supposed to just be fucking in the library while saying clever things. You wondered if he had thought this through, thinking that by the state of how it was written it was done impulsively without thought. Though you hoped that was just how he always wrote, it would be another small slice of information of who he truly was.

In reality who knows what he was thinking, a mask was still firmly over his face in front of you. It may have had cracks that gave you glimpses at the man underneath, but it would be a lie to say you even knew the slightest bit about him beyond his name. There were some dots you could connect that may lead to somewhere or nowhere. You didn’t even know what his job was, so you weren’t going to pretend that you could properly analyze his handwriting. He could even be lying about every piece of information given thus far, only using it to pull you in quicker by the spider’s silk he was potentially spinning.

All that was still locked up there in his mind, not unlike when Jekyll locked himself up in his laboratory. You only hoped this phone number signaled that he may be willing to open up his mind to you, even with the serum that could turn him into something dark. He could shut you out, insisting that what he had done was a mistake, then sealing the cracks in his mask closed. But, you were too curious for your own good, you wanted to shatter the mask, to pull away the shroud of mystery, to tell you about the monsters lurking. All you had to do was call him, and maybe he’d let the monsters free.

Part One, Part Two

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill this out to join): Strike through means tumblr won’t let me tag you

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @boxofsparklingmuses @takeyourleap-of-faith All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dom!Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde: @rainsong01 @dreatine @secretpickleprofessordean @evlfknb

[miamlfy]

Gryffindor Scum

A/N: WOOH PART THREE IS FINALLY OUT! There was so many ways I could have written this part and I actually rewrote it a few times. This part is more centered on Draco rather than the reader but I guess this series is mostly on Draco. Feel free to give me feedback/ideas!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Summary: Draco has an unwelcoming experience with Blaise and Pansy. 

Warnings: Implied depression, Pansy, and a few swear words. Perhaps spelling/grammar mistakes as well. 

Word Count: 1,9k

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Enjoy!

(Not my gif, credit to whoever made it)

Draco laid wide awake on his bed, staring onto the ceiling. He spent hours tossing and turning, just wanting to fall asleep just like everyone else in the house, however, his body refused to shut down. Draco continued to glance down to Harry’s muggle alarm clock he had on his nightstand, 3:46am it read. He let out a sigh, your mum wanted everyone up by 6am. So much for a good night’s rest, he thought to himself. 

His stomach was filled with the nervous feeling, his whole life had changed for him during the summer and he knew life at Hogwarts would also change. If someone told his past self that he would be dating a half blood or better yet living amongst Gryffindors, he would’ve laughed in their faces and told them to fuck off. Draco would have never imagined that this would be his life now, not that he hated it. He loved it, every second of it. He loved being in a household which held warmth, love, and security. He loved having parental figures that asked him on the daily if he was okay but most of all, he loved having you at his side. 

You were there for him for anything he needed the minute he stepped foot into your house. At first, Draco was scared your relationship would have declined when he moved in but instead it got stronger and the love was blooming more than ever. They spent many nights together alone, talking about the present and the future. 

“If I become a professional Quidditch player and you a healer, you can help with any injuring I get.” You said while picking on the grass you were laying on. 

Draco chuckled besides you, “I’ll also be on the stands cheering you on and being the loudest there.” 

Those moments the two of you had are what kept Draco going. You were his world and his yours. He got so used to spending each day with you that he wasn’t sure if he’ll be the same spending less amounts together at school. Now, Draco wasn’t much of the clingy type but after living in the same house for almost three months only to go back to school and being separated by house rivalry but going to take its toll. 

Draco scoffed to himself, whoever created such things and made him believe them were children, he thought. House rivalry was nonsense. Draco looked over to the clock once again, not much time has passed since he last checked it. He rolled onto his side and decided to at least get some sleep to avoid being an awful mood the in the morning. 

Draco was woken up by the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. He looked over to Harry’s bed to see it empty and unmade, no doubt already waiting for the delicious delights Lily was cooking.

Draco was still getting used to seeing a human cook rather than house elves. Lily wasn’t the only person who cooked in the Potter household, he also learned that you, along with Harry were taught some things. James, however, was often kicked out of the kitchen after his many, many, failed attempts on cooking. 

He got up from his bed and quickly made it along with Harry’s. Although your twin brother was fully capable of making his own bed, Draco hated a messy room and often opted into making your brothers bed. Heading downstairs, he saw your luggage packed and ready to go by the front door. Lily made the three you do it the night prior. 

“Ah, he’s up.” He heard you say, you stood on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his cheek. You always complained about your shortness to him, and how it wasn’t fair the Harry got the tall gene. 

“Come sit down, there’s pancakes, eggs, and bacon on the table already. Help yourself.” You said to him. 

Draco nodded and took an empty seat next to James. He began adding foods onto his plate, before he could start eating, James began speaking to him loud enough for him to only hear. 

“Draco as you know, the trial between your parents and us is still happening.” Draco nodded as James spoke. 

The trial was taking longer than expected and although it was unrealistic to think it would end with an agreement immediately, Draco wish it was over. Both parties refused to step down. Not that Draco wanted your parents to give up, he knew they wouldn’t. He just wished his own parents would come to terms that Draco wasn’t returning to them and to drop whatever they doing to claim themselves as the best wizarding parents out there. 

Well, he just wished his father would stop. He knew his mother couldn’t do much, she was just there to be a wife of a pureblood and a mother to heirs. Draco knew she tried to be there for him but the way she was raised proved that the only way she could try to show her love for her son was to buy him things and spoil him with anything and everything he asked for. 

Narcissa still sent him letters once a week, whether it was sending him money, treats, or asking a simple ‘How are you doing?’. 

Draco stared at James and nodded his head allowing James to continue. 

“Word has gotten out and it’ll most likely be in the papers soon which means people will say things to you. Don’t let them get to you and force you to pick a side, in the end it’s you who decides.” 

Draco already had a side picked but he knew Mr. Potter was right. His ‘friends’ will no doubt try to make him change his mind about everything and force him back into being the self-centered prick he was. 

Once everyone finished the very delicious breakfast and got into the muggle car Lily owned, with complaints from you for having to sit in the middle seat, the five of you headed towards the train station. 

“Harry move your bloody elbow!” You yelled out to your brother. “It’s stabbing me in the side!” 

“Maybe it’s you who should move, my elbow is fine where it is!” 

Draco slightly laughed at the interaction, leave it to the two of you to cause some sort of chaos in any given situation. He sat back in his seat and looked out the window, watching all the cars drive by. 

His stomach was getting the same feeling it had during the night. He began chewing on his lip, a habit he had of doing whenever he was nervous. Taking notice of this, you took his hand into yours. 

“Are you okay?” You asked looking at him. Concern was written all over your face as he looked at you. Looking at you is what made him more present and calmer. He loved looking at you, you were always so beautiful to him. 

“Yes, I’m fine.” He responded, giving you a genuine smile. You reciprocated the smile and leaned your head on his shoulder. 

Draco let out a yawn, his lack of sleep getting to him. Perhaps he’d be able to nap on the train. 

Arriving at the station, the three of you said goodbye to your parents. Lily was making sure everyone had everything they needed while James looked ready to cry. Regardless of this being the fifth year of doing this, he was never ready to say goodbye to his children. 

Draco noticed some Slytherins giving him weird looks as he stood with the Potters, a few gasps were heard from others when he hugged James and Lily goodbye. He didn’t care though; it was a bit amusing to see some of his peers sporting confused looks. 

“Alright kids be safe and be good, I don’t want to hear about any more pranks on teachers or students,” Lily said, looking directly at you and Harry. “Includes you now, Draco. These three gremlins can be quite the influence.” 

“Three?!” 

“Yes James, three.” 

“Now that’s not fair, Sirius should be in that list too!” James said. Lily shook her head as if her point was proven. 

Draco followed Harry and you onto the train, he saw a few first years still waving goodbye to their parents through the windows. He saw you poke your head out of one as well, he wanted to laugh at the fact that you looked no different than a first year, but he knew it was best not to as he didn’t want to make you mad. 

“Tell Uncle Moony that I say hi!” He heard James yell. You replied with a ‘will do’ and pulled your head back as the train began to move. Draco could’ve sworn he saw James wipe a few tears from his eyes. 

“Are you going to come sit with us? Harry already went with Hermione and Ron to find an empty compartment.” You asked your boyfriend. 

Draco shook his head, “It’s best if I go sit with the others, Granger and Weasley aren’t much used to having me around unlike Harry and you.” 

“Alright well if anything happens, you can come find us.” 

Draco nodded, allowing you to place a kiss on his lips as a short bye. Watching you skip as you went to find the others, Draco went on his way to find the people he calls his friends. 

The compartment in which they were in wasn’t hard to find, upon entering it Draco placed his luggage above and sat down next to Blaise. 

“Strange,” he heard Blaise say. “We didn’t think you’d be joining us.” 

“And why is that?” Draco asked turning his head to look at Blaise. 

Blaise continued to look down at the book he was reading, “It seemed to us that your alliance has changed.” 

Draco scoffed but before he could speak back, Pansy had already taken the stage. 

“You left us Draco.” She said, forcefully making herself sit in-between Draco and Blaise. She placed her arms around Draco’s neck. 

“Come back to us Draco, we know you’re still in there.” She shook him as she spoke, “We know they brainwashed you now come back.” 

Draco threw Pansy’s arms off of him with a bit of force, making her pout. “No one has brainwashed me.” 

“They clearly did, you don’t even want to be with me anymore!” She screeched. Draco rolled his eyes at her delusional self. 

Blaise closed his book and made Pansy go back to her original seat. He looked directly at Draco as he spoke. 

“We don’t want you here anymore, Draco. You made it clear to us that you no longer want to be in this friend group the minute you hugged that mudblood and her blood traitor husband. Not to mention how friendly you’ve gotten with Y/n Potter.” 

Draco felt his body becoming hot with anger as Blaise targeted the slurs towards your parents. 

“Now leave us and perhaps you’d want to change your house tie as well, seeing as you’ve become Gryffindor scum.” Blaise finished. 

Draco angrily stood up, glaring at Blaise as he grabbed his luggage and stormed out slamming the compartment door with such force. He stood there for a few seconds, taking notice that his hands were shaking as he rubbed his eyes with them.

“This is going to be one long fucking year.”

[seokoloqy]

The Ravenheart Manor | Yoongi’s Route

➳ PAIRING: demon!yoongi x reader

➳ GENRE: smut, pwp, mythical creature!au

➳ WORD COUNT: 3.3k

➳ WARNINGS: teasing, alley sex, his dick has ridges bc why not, dirty talk, over stimulation

➳ SUMMARY: despite the powerful aphrodisiac working its way through you, Yoongi doesn’t seem to care much and forces you to finish your chores with him. Your frustrations bubble up during a shopping trip and he decides to punish you.

➳ A/N: this is Yoongi’s route in the Ravenheart Manor series! Pls read first part before this one! None of the other routes need to be read in order and they are all stand alones

—

“I want Yoongi,” your breathless voice manages to say. You’re unable to meet anyone’s curious gaze, mortified by how their stares make your body tense and shudder.

You’d feel more comfortable staying with Yoongi through this because you've spent so much time around him. He’ll probably make you work through this unexpected heat and you’ll be too distracted polishing dishes to notice the wetness soaking your panties and the desire to have him throw you on the kitchen counter and spread your legs.

Namjoon nods, “very well. Dinner will be cut short tonight. Everyone will finish up in their own rooms. ___ and Yoongi can remain here.”

Despite the whines from Taehyung and Jimin about wanting to stay with you, one by one each of the residents take their plates from the table and disappear into their respective rooms to finish dinner on their own. You’re almost glad they’re all gone because you were very close to putting Taehyung’s hand exactly where you needed them.

You’re sitting very still in your chair, too sensitive to move from the heat crawling over your thighs or too nervous. Yoongi still has his eyes trained on you and the coffee pitcher steadily cradled in his hands.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s focused on the lust surrounding you, it’s so palpable he can taste the sweetness of it on his tongue.

As a demon, he’d prefer fear. That bitter flavor is so addicting to him. He wonders if your lust will taste just as intoxicating. If it does, he’s not sure he’d be able to restrain himself from devouring you completely. His hands tighten around the coffee pitcher when the nagging feeling of an insatiable hunger bites at him.

You cross your legs and turn away from his intense stare. You know you've messed up by drinking Jimin’s aphrodisiac. Yoongi must be thinking of all the chores he’s going to make you do for the next month or the rest of your human life.

“Have I been working you too hard, ___?” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the silence.

“N-No,” you shake your head, curling your hands around your knee to stop them from trembling.

“Then why would Jungkook say you were stressed?”

“I don’t know,” you squeak when Yoongi sets the coffee pitcher down. In the silent dining room the sound of it hitting the table seems booming in your ears.

“I don’t tolerate liars, ___, and as long as I am your superior,” you listen to his clipped footsteps as he approaches you. A hand comes beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his face. His hands are just as cold as they were when you first met. There’s a dark, threatening glow in his eyes. Even though it’s intimidating you’re still breathless looking at him. “You will never lie to me.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and force a weak response, “y-yes, sir.”

Yoongi watches your wavering expression while a mischievous grin forms. He leans down at eye level to your heated face. “Your lust smells so intoxicating,” he whispers, just a breath away from your lips. “If I were a desperate man, I’d devour you—mind, body, and soul. Consider yourself lucky I’m not some lower level demon picking for scraps.”

The dark allure of his eyes enchants you and you’re almost compelled to lean forward and kiss him, just to see if it’ll quell the fire blazing in your core.

He releases your face, the traces of his cold touch still lingering on your skin like frostbite, and turns on his heel to resume his duties clearing the table.

“Just because you’re under the effects of an aphrodisiac doesn’t mean you get to slack off. We still have to go into town tonight for tomorrow’s ingredients.”

You want to groan. Of course he’d make you go out as punishment. Sadistic bastard.

“Get yourself together,” he says, picking up Namjoon’s bloody napkin. “We’re leaving as soon as we finish cleaning the table.”

—

Even though the temperature drops at night, leaving most to bundle themselves up in a coat, you picked a sundress because everything else you tried on just felt too suffocating.

Yoongi doesn’t seem to care about your predicament, just as you thought. You regret choosing him now. If you knew how desperate you would feel walking in the streets so close to Yoongi who pretends to be oblivious to your needs, you would’ve chosen Taehyung or Jimin to satisfy you instead. They probably would have been all over you by now.

You didn’t even get the chance to touch yourself when you were in your room changing before Yoongi barged in and claimed the shops would close soon. You get the feeling he only said it so you couldn’t relieve yourself of the aching between your legs.

A thin layer of sweat has already built up across your skin as you walk into the butchers shop. Your hands feel clammy, swinging at your side loosely, so close to Yoongi’s. He hasn’t made any indication he’s going to help you with the aphrodisiac. His only focus is on getting all the ingredients for tomorrow’s breakfast and reminding you not to trip over yourself when your knees get too weak and threaten to buckle.

“Yoongi,” you whine, tugging lightly on his coat, “I can’t take this anymore.”

Every step you take just reminds you of the growing wetness pooling in your panties. You swear you can almost hear a squelch whenever you shift your legs to ease the throbbing of your core. It must be the effects of the aphrodisiac that are making you so uncomfortably wet.

He hums, peering into the glass shielding an array of animal hearts; they’d be for Taehyung’s breakfast. “Maybe you should have thought twice before drinking mysterious alcohol then.”

“I didn’t think it’d be an aphrodisiac!” You whisper, tugging harder on his dark coat. The butcher gives you an odd look but doesn’t say anything. “Please, Yoongi. I need to go back to the manor.”

“What you need to do is carry these bags.” He ignores your pleas and shoves two bags filled with produce into your trembling hands. He speaks to the butcher and orders two pig hearts which are put into a bag and handed to Yoongi. You have half a mind to throw all his groceries to the floor and walk to the manor yourself.

When you’re both out of the shop and on the nearly empty streets, your legs grow weaker with each step and you nearly stumble if it weren’t for Yoongi’s arm wrapping around your hip. You involuntarily moan when he pulls you to his chest. The bags you were holding accidentally slip through your weak fingers. Luckily none of its contents spill out onto the street.

“What do you think you’re doing making such lewd noises in public?” He chides, clicking his tongue when you bury your face in his chest. You cling to the lapels of his coat, trying to pull him impossibly close.

“Please, Yoongi, I need…” You’re so breathless you can hardly finish your sentence, letting it taper off into a groan. You quiver in his arms. It’s so hard to gather yourself back together when his hands glide over your waist to steady you. The material of your sundress is so thin; it feels like he’s touching your bare skin. That’s exactly what you want, no, it’s what you need.

“Need what?” He asks, dipping his head low so only you can hear his words brush across your ear. “To be punished? You embarrassed yourself in front of our masters, ___. You need to be taught a lesson so this doesn’t happen again.”

You whimper in his arms, feeling your body react desperately to his words. You press yourself closer to him, weakly rubbing yourself against him to ease your tension.

“Look at yourself,” he mocks, “do you want to put on a show for these people?”

You pry your face out of his chest to glance at your surroundings. Although there are hardly any people wandering the town square, the few who are out glance at you curiously and try not to stare too long. When you meet eyes with one of them, they turn away flustered and walk off quickly. You bury your face back into Yoongi.

If stripping off all your clothes right now means this incessant throbbing between your legs will go away, you don’t mind putting on a show for everyone. You bet Yoongi wouldn't mind it either if it weren't for his desire to maintain a respectable reputation as the Ravenheart Manor’s butler. You wish he was some lowly demon, intent of satisfying his own selfish needs and indulging in your overflowing lust.

“I don’t care. I don’t care at all! Please I just need you to fuck me!” You cry, muffled by his coat. Maybe you didn’t mean to let the last part slip out, but it’s the truth. There’s no point in hiding your needs anymore. You feel like dying.

Your plea doesn’t fall of deaf ears. Yoongi can taste your lust again. It’s so powerful it practically stuffs itself down his throat, screaming to be devoured.

“I only take orders from my masters. You’re in no position to demand anything from me.”

He’s not enticing you to make a deal with him. Although savoring your tainted soul after ten years is an attractive trade, he plans to keep you as a maid at the manor for much longer. He just wants to torment you longer. He wants to know how long you can last writhing and crying out for him without breaking.

You let out a frustrated grunt, forcing both hands between your bodies and pushing yourself away. Yoongi lets you go without a fight and watches in amusement, a small smile on his face, when you clench the hem of your dress and press your shaking legs together. Behind your gritted teeth, your breathing has turned ragged.

“Whatever then,” you hiss, “I’ll just go back to the manor myself.”

“It’s late,” he says, running his eyes down your figure, drinking up your curves in that sundress. You look delectable like a gift waiting and willing to be devoured by him. “What kind of butler would I be if I had to explain to our masters that you became someone else’s dinner?”

There are plenty of beastly characters lurking around the town who’d catch a whiff of your scent and immediately pounce given the chance, no doubt. You’re like walking meat to them. The lust on top of that makes you irresistible. He can’t have anyone else claiming you before him.

“I think that’d make you a lousy butler.” You take a step back despite your challenging glare, wobbling slightly because of your weak legs. A burning feeling begins to crawl over your skin. This time it actually hurts. You hide your wince when your stomach begins to twist.

Yoongi smirks, “I can’t have that then.”

He gathers all the bags into one hand with a strength you envy and holds out his hand.

You shamelessly lunge for it, despite being upset with him two seconds ago—the aphrodisiac being stronger than your frustrations—and embrace any bit of contact he has to offer. You mewl into his hand that you’ve now nuzzled against your cheek. That burning is cooled when Yoongi’s hands glide over your skin.

“My kitten is so needy,” he teases. “Do you really need me that badly?”

Without even realizing, Yoongi guides you towards an alley and lets you both become drowned by darkness so any passerby will assume nothing of your mingled shadows intimately pressed together. You only notice the new change of scenery when your back is against the harsh brick wall and Yoongi presses a finger against your lips and the other hand busies itself under your dress, gliding up your sensitive stomach to fondle your breasts. The groceries left abandoned to the side.

“I need you to keep quiet, alright, kitten?” He whispers, pressing his own lips right against his finger. He’s just a breath away from kissing you and you had no idea you could want something this bad until now. You’re eager to kiss him, taste him.

You feel his hand slip beneath your bra and his thumb run over your pert nipples that have been starving for attention since the night began. He plays with your nipple between two fingers while his other hand leaves your lips and glides along the nape of your neck down to the zipper of your dress. Slowly, almost agonizingly, he drags the zipper down, letting the straps slide naturally down your arms and the rest of the dress falling to the ground.

Once the dress is completely off, it begins a catalyst of you letting out all your pent up arousal. You throw your arms around Yoongi’s neck and pull him down to your lips, letting your tongues meet in a frenzied, heated match.

You moan, savoring his honeyed taste while you pull him closer. “Want you,” you manage to slip past your entwined mouths.

Yoongi manages to unclasp your bra and it falls to the floor along with your discarded dress. The air nips at your bare upper half and you embrace the cold against your burning skin.

He pulls his lips away from yours to focus them down your chest, licking and sucking over your sensitive skin, enjoying the small noises you make. If you were back at the manor, he’d love to make you scream louder. So every layer of hell may hear your pleasure.

He blows on the areas he’s coated with his saliva, causing you to shiver.

“You don’t deserve anything after the show you put on at dinner tonight. Why should I reward bad behavior?”

“B-Because,” You say breathlessly, feeling almost delirious and lightheaded. How is it possible? He hasn’t even touched your soaked cunt once, yet it feels like you’re being touched all over at the same time.

“I’m going to need a good reason, kitten.” His hand moves faster than you can react, yanking off your panties, exposing all of you for him to devour. He tosses the article aside and cups your heat, teasing your slick folds with his middle finger. You mewl and shudder in his hands, clutching his bicep. “Tell me why I should fuck you right now.”

His thumb presses against your clit, harshly rubbing, making you quiver in his arms.

“I’m a good maid,” you whine, attempting to grind your hip against his hand.

“Not tonight,” he reminds, slipping one finger past your folds. You’re so wet it makes it easy for him.

You groan, screwing your eyes shut as you lean your head against the wall. “Before tonight. I did everything,” you whimper when he inserts a second finger easily and begins slowly dragging them in and out of you. It’s almost torturous. “Everything you asked of me. I think all of that makes up for my mistake tonight.”

His fingers move faster now, curling against your walls and drawing out your moans. “It’s true you’ve been very useful,” he considers. With you around, his work has been considerably easier, but he’d never admit that to you.

You clench around his fingers, feeling yourself approaching your well needed climax when he removes his fingers despite your whining protests.

“Please,” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair. Your legs are so weak, if it weren’t for his arm around you and the wall you’re leaning on, you’d collapse in a horny mess on the floor begging for some sort of release.

Your arousal glistens on his fingers as he raises them up to your mouth. The look in his eyes is absolutely devilish, almost black. You’re mesmerized by the void, willingly letting yourself get lost in it.

“Shh, don’t whine, kitten,” he teases his finger against your lips, smearing your arousal over the bottom, “a good maid cleans up after herself. Now open.”

You obediently part your lips to allow him to stuff his fingers into your mouth. Closing your lips around his fingers and sucking off your own arousal, your eyes flutter shut, swirling your tongue around his digits the same way you would with his cock.

“Are you ready for your reward?”

He unzips his pants, freeing his erection finally. You try not to react surprised when you finally get to see his unholy cock for the time. In the faint light, you can see that he has ridges around his cock like rings. You nearly faint.

“Oh god,” you groan, stomach fluttering with excitement. You throw one leg around his waist to bring him closer and to give him easier access to your pussy.

Yoongi grips your chin, dragging your face back up to his. “I want you saying my name only while I fuck you, kitten, got it?”

You bite your lip and nod. At this point you’d do anything for him to just plunge his cock into you. “Yes, Yoongi.”

Satisfied, Yoongi aligns his cock with your entrance, rubbing the length along your slit to coat it in your arousal. In one quick thrust, buries himself in your drenched pussy with a satisfied groan in your ear.

You have to cover your mouth to prevent the scream that would have escaped and alerted everyone walking by about your elicit activities.

His pace is anything but gentle as he hammers into your cunt and you take it all so eagerly. You choke back your moans behind your hand, feeling your eyes begin to water from the pleasure building up in your core. His hands find their place on your ass, controlling every movement of your hips against his.

It’s not possible to feel this good, is it? Whether it’s the power of the aphrodisiac or just Yoongi’s strong thrusts into your fluttering walls, you feel like you’re in paradise.

“You’re taking my cock so well, kitten,” Yoongi rasps, “what would our masters think of you like this, huh? Being fucked against the wall in an alley. I bet they’d like to watch you fall apart, but you’re mine now.”

“Mmph!” All you can do is whimper into your hands as a weak response. You can feel the ridges you’d seen on his cock every time they slide against your contracting walls.

“Your mind, body, and soul are all mine to devour.”

You helplessly cling to him, his shoulders, his hair, gripping the lapels of his coat as you pull him into a desperate kiss. Now both of your legs wrap around his waist, allowing his demonic strength to hold you up.

His hand wanders from your ass to rub your clit, edging you closer to your sweet release. You moan into his mouth and he swallows each of your cries greedily. His finger relentlessly attacks your clit, and it finally brings you to your orgasm.

Your walls clench around his cock as you come undone. He continues his rough assault on your cunt, not entirely done with you yet. This was supposed to be your punishment after all.

Your over stimulated pussy convulses around him as he ravages you. “Ah, Yoongi!” You cry helplessly, clinging to his shoulders.

“A couple more times ought to teach you,” he grunts.

You’re not sure how long you spent in the alley or how many orgasms Yoongi ended up giving you, but by the end of it, you had collapsed into Yoongi and the effects of the aphrodisiac long gone. He helped you get dressed with surprising ease and collected the groceries off the ground.

Yoongi surprises you by holding his hand out when you’re both out of the shadows. You look at him dumbly before slipping your hand in his. You’re a little glad he’s given you his hand because your legs are still wobbling.

“You can have the rest of the night off,” Yoongi says as you curl your body closer to him. Instead of holding his hand, you’ve managed to cling onto his arm, seeking warmth and comfort.

You're about to thank Yoongi for finally giving you a night off when he says, “but I expect you to be up earlier than usual to finish your chores.”

Bastard.

[tinyjeanmarco]

Helloooo 🥺🥺 idk if ur into writing hurt+comfort but I’m in such a big fat mood to cry rn and there’s not a lot Porco angst out here... I was thinking along the lines of modern au and ur already in a relationship but ur incredibly insecure about urself and the relationship, but Porco reassures u in the end that he really does love u and goes out of his way to prove it <3

(I realize u likely won’t get this done tonight and I’ll probs be in a better mood tomorrow BUT it’s still true there isn’t a lot of Porco angst out there!!)

Also if u don’t write angst pls ignore this!! Thank you 💖💖

teddy (a hurt/comfort fic)

hello my darling!! i hope that you’re in a better mood now and don’t want to cry anymore! （＞д＜） remember that it’s okay to cry and to take care of yourself. your body loves you and you should show it just as much love. i do really love hurt/comfort fics! they always make me feel so soft in the comfort part. 🥺 i’ll do my best to write this! i think porco can be a real comforting boyfie that just cares so much about you. ♡ also sorry this was so late after your request, love. (｡ ́︿ ̀｡) i listened to idontwannabeyouanymore by billie eilish, and emotional anorexic by svavar knutur while i wrote this so you kinda get the vibe i was feeling while writing!

wc: 1,818

modern!porco x gn!reader

warnings: some angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, i swear.

he’s just busy, you thought as you exited the coffee shop. you clutched the cup in your hand tighter as you checked your phone for what must have been the twentieth time that hour.

you texted your boyfriend, asking if he wanted to do something that day, but alas, it’s been a few hours and no response. you knew he had classes, but they should be done by now, meaning he was just ignoring you at this point.

no, he’s busy. you reminded yourself. yet, you weren’t sure how much longer you could buy that thought. you couldn’t tell if that was true anymore, or if it was just a way to keep your bad thoughts at bay.

you debated texting him again, but were worried that you would annoy him. maybe that was the issue in the first place; he saw your text and wanted a break from you, thus making him ignore you. it had already been nine months since you started dating, maybe he was annoyed with you.

you picked up your pace as you walked back to your apartment, no longer wanting to be around people, in case you broke down in some way. you knew it wasn’t the best to be alone when you felt like this, your friends telling you that getting out and doing things would take your mind off your anxious thoughts.

you couldn’t seem to text anyone to tell them you felt trapped.

stepping inside your apartment, you locked the door behind you and toed off your shoes before making your way to the bedroom. you tossed your keys on a table as you walked by.

your mind just kept racing faster the more you were alone with the silence that was suffocating you. the best course of action was to take a nap, you decided. so, you changed, and put on one of porco’s hoodies that he gave you.

yet, when you settled under the covers, sleep wouldn’t find you. your insecurities picked you apart down to the bone. at this point, you had felt like you were being drowned. it was so hard to swim in the fog that was your head.

your brain had managed to convince you that porco was tired of you, and it was on its way to make you think he would break up with you. in the back of your head, you knew this was false, yet it kept persisting. it wouldn’t leave you alone.

instead of ruminating about things you didn’t want to, you thought maybe putting on one of your sad music playlists would help quiet the thoughts, which, in hindsight was an okay idea at most. it really only served to upset you even more.

you didn’t even notice tears were leaking from your eyes until you found your nose was beginning to clog. you wiped at your eyes, and just cried harder.

you were trying so hard to be okay, but your insecurities would not leave you alone. you hated it so much. you just wished they would leave you alone. tired,  you were so tired of always feeling like not enough.

normally, you would communicate to porco about how you were feeling because communication and telling the other how you feel in a relationship is rule number one. yet, you were so convinced he didn’t want anything to do with you at the moment, so you refrained.

the only option left was to just keep crying until sleep somehow made its way to you.

a few hours later is when you woke up, thanks to the constant buzzing of your phone. why couldn’t everyone just leave you alone?

sighing, you did your best to wipe the sleep from your eyes before you squinted at your phone screen to see who was calling.

your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. it was porco. what would he want? was he finally going to break it off? would he tell you that your texts got on his nerves so he needed space?

you decided you didn’t feel like answering it, not wanting to deal with whatever it is he had to tell you. you weren’t mad at him, you just didn’t want to be even more hurt than you were already. that means ignoring everything completely.

after the phone finally stopped ringing, you kept getting texts from him but you just put your phone on do not disturb and shut your eyes again.

you had fallen alseep again, but it didn’t last as long as earlier, because you happened to hear a soft knocking on your bedroom door. shooting up into a sitting position, you scanned your room for a nearby weapon. who the fuck was in your apartment?

the answer came when a gentle voice, which you didn’t want to hear, followed the knocks.

“baby? are you in there?” and ever so slowly, the door pushed open. your body felt like it was made of lead as he stepped into the room. you forgot you had given him the spare key.

“oh, were you asleep? i’m sorry if i woke you, sweetheart.” he made his way over to your bed and sat himself on the side of it.

“yeah, i was asleep. it’s fine though, i needed to wake up anyways.” you mumbled out. he nodded before speaking again.

“what’s got you down? and don’t tell me nothing because i know you only take naps when you’re upset or it’s exam week.” he reached a hand out to take yours, gently stroking the top of it with his thumb.

“are you tired of me?” you blurred out, not quite answering his question, but to porco, that was enough of an answer that he got what was going on.

“no, no, no, baby. why do you think that? talk to me, honey.” his other hand that was not in yours, reached up to gently cup your face, encouraging you to speak.

“i dunno, you had to be not answering my texts for a reason.” you sniffled, tears coming to your eyes again today. when would they just stop and let you be happy?

“i’m so sorry, baby. my phone died today after i got called in for an emergency shift at work, and i didn’t have a charger at work. i promise you, i’m not tired of you. i was thinking of you the whole time i was working. i’d rather be with you then at that dump.” he gave a small squeeze to your hand. you squeezed back.

you had felt a little of the weight lift off your heart at his words, but you had spent so long today just overthinking and assuming you were right. the sadness wasn’t going to go away immediately.

“i’m sorry i overthink so much and always make you deal with it.” he just tutted and crawled on the bed to plant himself right beside you, pulling you into his chest.

“don’t you dare apologize. you know i care about you and have no problem making you feel more comfortable.” you felt yourself melt at his words and sink into his embrace. with every word he spoke, the thoughts in your head got quieter and quieter.

you closed your eyes and just listened to his heartbeat for a second before saying anything else. one of his hands reached up to your face and wiped the last of the tears away.

“thank you, porco.” you sighed and snuggled in even closer.

“you don’t need to thank me, this is what i’m here for.” a kiss is pressed to the top of your head, and you feel him shift. “now, how about i run to get stuff to cook for you and we can spend the rest of the night in?”

“you don’t have to, pock. i’m okay with just ordering a pizza or something.” you turned to him and pressed a kiss onto his nose before connecting your lips together.

“but i wanna.” he mumbled into your lips, not wanting to break the kiss.

you eventually reluctantly agreed, and decided to hop in the shower to melt away the rest of the day’s stress as you waited for him to return. he promised it would only be fifteen minutes max that he’d be gone.

the hot water running down your back felt like heaven. you could feel the knots in your neck and shoulders just dissolve under the heat. you were okay, not like earlier when you were wrapped up in despair.

you still felt tired and a little numb from the thoughts that polluted your head that day, but at least you no longer felt the need to cry. now you just craved the touch and comfort of your boyfriend, whenever he returned.

as you were getting dressed after your shower, you heard porco call out that he had returned from his shopping adventure. pulling his hoodie back over your head, you shuffled out to where he was unloading the groceries he had purchased.

when he saw you, he hurried to grab something he set aside and made his way over to you.

he got you a giant, cuddly teddy bear and some of your favorite chocolate bars.

“what’s all this for?” you inquired.

“i got it for you, to help cheer you up and kind of apologize for being irresponsible.” he scratched the back of his neck, a light red dusting his cheeks.

“pock.. i don’t know what to say. you really didn’t have to do this.” you took the bear from his hands and hugged it close to you.

“but i really wanted to, and it’s to make up for you being sad. whenever i’m not around, you can just hug the bear and pretend it’s me.” he set the chocolate aside on the counter and went to pull you into a hug, effectively squishing the stuffed bear between your bodies.

“this bear will never live up to the expectations of cuddling with you, pock.” you let out a small chuckle.

“well, then i guess i’ll just have to be sure to cuddle you as much as i can.” he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“you won’t hear me complaining.” you leaned into him and pressed your lips together, craving his affection. “now, please cook for me, baby. i’m really hungry.”

you tried to give him the best puppy eyes you could muster. he laughed and gave you another quick kiss before pulling away and turning to the rest of the things he bought.

“of course, just make sure you sit there looking pretty and i’ll get right to it.” you finally felt a big grin form on your face, finally relaxed.

you hated that you could get so sad and insecure sometimes, but porco understood you, he didn’t judge you. you could always trust him to pick up the broken pieces when you didn’t feel okay.