#they are all so greasy someone please give them a face wipe

[tinithebini]

Spent the last week binge listening dungeons & daddies. Highly recommend. Anyway I doodled some greasy teens

[itsallmouthwashing]

Dear Diary, Someone Smashed My Guitar Today (Band AU- Chapter 1 snippet)

CW: depictions of violence, blood, use of f-slur

Word Count: ~2.2k

Highschool!Jimmy, Highschool!Curly, Angst, (physical)hurt/comfort, slight instant pining?

Im officially working on the first chapter for the band AU fic, but in the meantime here's a scene I've been working on from it (that ended up being almost the full thing WHOOPS!) :) please enjoy, reblog are so appreciated :)

Curly hears rumors of getting jumped after school

Jimmy hears them too

Jimmy gets there first and takes care of it

When Curly gets there, JImmy is covered in blood 

_____P--L--E--A--S--E----E--N--J--O--Y_____

There's blood on his shirt. It’s pooled at his neck line and trailing up like a river to its source: his bruised nose. I can't tell from this distance if it’s broken or not, but he’s looking at me through the slits of eyes like he’s cursing me. Like this is my fault. 

Maybe it is.

“Do we have a problem?” I try my best to sound tough, to not slide into the part of me that lightens the mood and eases the tension by joking. No, I need to make a name for myself. So this doesn't happen again. If they get me now, I’ll be dealing with it for the next four years, and I’ll be damned if I become the target again.

 My hands tighten at my sides and my leg starts bouncing without my permission. 

“Took care of it.” He sniffles and covers his mouth with the back of his hand to cover the wince that follows, but I hear it when he sucks in through his teeth. Blood drips from his face to the ground and that's when I see the spatters on the concrete. Pools and streaks and drops of crimson and deep mahogany. 

There’s so much-

The hand that’s shaking at his side is cut and bruised and dripping. I can't tell if the blood that falls is from him, or another’s come to join itself again in the pores of the pavement.

My lower half won't stay still. I’m fucking buzzing with energy. I think the steps I take towards him are involuntary. 

“I was told-?” to meet here. I was told to be at this exact curb at this exact time or there would be worse waiting for me tomorrow. His face is familiar to me now. A crooked piercing at the left side of his lip, greasy brown hair pasted to his forehead, deep brown eyes narrow and warning through the darkness of his cave. Prey that cross its gaping maw, beware. 

“Not today, no.” He dabs at the corner of his nose with his finger, pulling it away to see it covered in bright red blood. 

“What… Did you do?” 

“Like I said. Took care of it.” He wipes his nose with the back of his hand now, gingerly, just below his still leaking nostrils. Either he got hit, bad, or this happened just seconds before I got here. “We’re even, by the way.”

“You smashed my guitar last month.”

I laugh. I have to because the look in his eyes and the blood on his shirt and the bruises under his skin are overwhelming. The reality of the situation slowly creeps up my spine. My mind can't ignore the blood anymore. 

All he has to say in response is nothing at all. He just nods his head and blots the blood again with his other hand. I scramble to my pockets, pulling out the wad of tissues mother gave me this morning after a sneezing fit. She said something about being careful about the pollen this time of the season, but I think blood leaking from one’s nose is more important than some boogers. He looks at it for a while before looking back at me. 

Then, “We’re even.” He sniffles again but doesn't wince. He’s not looking away, and somehow I can't. “Come find me if someone gives you trouble again. But you’ll owe me.”

“I can handle myself- uh…”

He’s walking away. I want to yell at him to wait, but I hear police sirens in the distance and he does too. He’s sprinting now, down the street and taking a left and I forget that we’re only two blocks from our neighborhood. I think I start running too, because suddenly there’s wind on my face and air in my lungs and my legs are on fire. My feet are pounding on the pavement and they’re desperate to take me home. To follow. To get his name. He’s crossing the street onto the next that leads into our complex. My chest is on fire.

My chest is on fire.

I think I’ve been hit by a bus. I didn't look both ways before crossing the street and now I’m paying the price. The asphalt is rough, bits of rock and debris dug into my skin and slicing me open. But the road is smooth, almost like tile.

I don't remember his name. I know his face but I never got his-

A knee hits my jaw and knocks me over fully, and just before I close my eyes I watch a foot speed towards me. My hands fly to my head, my knees to my chest, my cries to the air.

“Come find me if these guys give you trouble again.” 

I can't get up. There’s two more feet to my back and another to my head and my legs aren't enough to protect from the one attacking my face. 

I didn't hear anything today. No one came to warn me. No one talked about it around anyone that mattered. 

Why is no one doing anything?

Camera flashes and iPhone’s recording. Beeps and whoops and subtle encouragement moving through the people like a lion through tall grass. Circling me, prowling, hungry.

I try to open my eyes, find anyone in the growing crowd who will look at me and do something. Anything. 

And there’s someone in the audience who’s already staring at me.

The same look of disdain and hatred for the world he held when my guitar laid in pieces between us. When my parents took us over to his apartment and I found out he lives just up the street from me. When his parents made him hand over the wad of cash himself to replace it. When he got to the curb seconds before me and saved me from this fate once before.

It’s not his face in the crowd, but all at once I remember something. 

“James,” I say when a foot connects with my sternum and I’m able to hide it between the hurk that’s forced out of me. I remember hearing it during attendance. Mr Peter’s voice calling out and his annoyed correction in response.

“Jimmy!” I call out, more desperate now. My chest hurts. I think one of my ribs might be broken and I suddenly remember we don't have insurance here yet and I’m sick for a new reason. 

“JIMMY!” It’s four-to-one and I can't move. It's dozens of people against four and no one moves. My throat is closing and my lungs are expanding into shards of bone and glass.

Uproarious laughter and humored mutters coat me like darkness. Someone’s Chucks connect with my jaw and the pop echoes in my ears. 

“Patheic fucking britt can't even fight for himself!” They punctuate with dropping to their knees and ripping my hands from my face. My eyes stay open now. I can't look away when the person smirking at me has blood on their face. Is that mine?

“JIMMY!” I’m crying now. I promised myself that no matter what happened I wouldn't cry at school but I'm sobbing into my shoulder, looking away and struggling to cover my head again like there’s mortar fire in the sky. I hear it’s whistling through the air as it finds me through the clouds and rains down like holy retribution. 

Except, it doesn’t. I don't get obliterated into pink mist, my body and self left to be wondered about and longed for by my loved ones. No, it’s the one on his knees behind my head, ramming his fist into my skull and not caring if his knuckle bones shattered in the process. 

There’s commotion around me, voices yelling and screaming and struggling and bouncing off the narrow hallway walls. People running away, hands lifting from my arms and head and the legs that caged me scatter. 

I have to blink to focus on what's happening in front of me. The hallway is empty now, save for three people. One of them is on the ground beside me holding his face in his hands and groaning. His blood leaks onto the floor and pools between us. Someone’s standing in front of me and I can't make out much but their silhouette and that of the person they have by the throat against the lockers. 

But everything’s blurry again. Something red drips into my vision and I think there may be blood in my eyes. I hear something drop to the floor with a thud and then someone picking me up by my arms. 

“Up, up. Come on, we need to get out of here-”

What? What's happening? The voice is so familiar but in my dazed state I can't search for it. In the depths of my mind I'm shaking in the corner and sobbing into my hands. My throat burns, and I can't tell if I'm holding back tears or if the sobs are ripping me apart on their own.

“Come on, work with me. One foot then the other. We need to go-”

I don't know when we get outside but we do. The F hallway is close enough to the exit for us to slip out quickly, I suppose. The air is crisp and light and cold on my open wounds. It’s only because of the chill that I know I have wounds. The sun hurts. Everything hurts. My head is pounding and, oh fuck, what if I have a concussion? I'll need to go to hospital, but how much is that here? Are there special rules for immigrants?

Are there worse rules?

He doesn't peel my dead weight off of him until we’re a few streets away from school. He places me down so I can sit on the transformer that's between someones’ property, and it’s only when he knees in front of me with searching eyes that I see who it is.

“You… came…” It’s hard to speak. It’s hard to breathe. I can't breathe. 

“Well, yeah,” he says. “You called.” He hands me a pack of cigarettes, offering a lighter in his other, and I don't know when he had the time to light his own. 

“We’re 13?”

“Yeah, I was nine when I started smoking. So,” he gestures them to me again.

Fuck it. This day can't get any worse.

He smiles when I take one from the pack. There were too many smokers in Bath, but I guess copying the masters isn't enough because when I go to light the cig I catch my finger instead. Jimmy’s watching me through it all. Probably to see if I'm a poser or not. But he snatches the lighter from me, looks at me like I’ve got to be kidding him, and gestures me forward. I try to move my neck closer to where his hand waits but wince when all my nerves pinch at once. He rolls his eyes and takes the stick from my lips, lights it, and hands it back to me.

“First smoke?”

“Yeah, thanks for the fag, I guess,” I laugh, feeling like we’re twenty years old outside of a nightclub and I need nicotine to chase the fire in my veins. He rushes up to his feet, suddenly towering over me.

"What did you call me?”

“Wh-what?”

“I’m gonna give you one chance, since you just got your ass handed to you.”

“I-I said, thanks for the fag? The- the cigarette?”

“Wha-?” He looks to the cig and then to me, then to the cig again, then back to me. 

“Uh, it’s just what we call cigarettes in the UK? I didn't mean anything by it- honest.”

“Oh. Kay. Uh… I knew that. Not used to hearing it in that context.”

“Sorry.”

“Just don't say that here. Ever.”

“What?”

“Fag. Or faggot. Just don't say it.”

“Right…”

“It’s like the n-word, ya know? It's just something you don't say.”

“You do realize that while you’re saying fag, you’re not sasying what the n-word is?”

“Okay, genius, you go around saying-.”

I choke on the exhale. It holds uncomfortable space in my throat and burns my sinuses with a feeling like an interrupted orgasm. I cough and sputter through the fire in my lungs, hack and spit into the grass when the charred feeling doesn't loosen. He actually says it. No cushion.

“You just said-”

He gives me a silent look as he takes a drag. Something tells me that someone else's reaction may be more visceral than mine. 

“Okay, whatever. I get your point.” He nods and looks away, letting his jaw hang open and letting the smoke pool out on its own like a lazy river. I don't know what it is about the sight of him blowing out smoke that makes me tingle. “Thanks for the cig, brah.” 

It’s not my best American accent, I’ll admit, but it gets him to look at me and crack the slightest of smiles. The chuckle he does blows the remaining smoke away, but the feeling remains. He shuffles in his pockets again, putting away the cigarettes and lighter and pulling out a black rectangle. He flips it to me and I’m not sure what to do with the phone that's suddenly in my lap. 

“Uh… not for me, is it?"

“Ha, no,” he scoffs, “Put your number in my phone. If I hear anything about those guys I’ll let you know. But I also need to reach you when I cash in my favor.”

He’s looking away again, hiding behind a curtain of thick brown hair and pretending to be interested in something on the block over. 

“Favor?”

“We were even last time. Now, you owe me.”

Oh, right. 

“I thought heroes didn't need payment for their good deeds.”

“Well, that's your first mistake. I’m not a hero." But what do you call the person who saves you life twice in the span of a season? What do you call the person who comes when you call? “‘D be nice though,” he inhales, sucks on the menthol taste stuck to the roof of his mouth, and says through the exhale, “To be someone’s hero.”

“You’re my hero. If that counts.” Ive been letting the cigarette burn between my fingers until now. The ash falls when I move it to my lips, and I can only take a baby hit before my mouth is burning, like I just swallowed unflavored mouthwash. The kind that's pure ethanol and none of the sweet. He chuckles, putting out the cigarette on the transformer. 

“Yeah, I bet your parents are heroes to you, too.” He leaps off and dusts the bottom of his jeans. “But they don't get you cigarettes after a rescue, do they? No, think that's more villain shit. Giving a kid cigs.”

“So, you’d rather be my villain?”

“I’d rather not be your anything, lad.” He attempts my accent and it's so shite I can't help but laugh.

“How about just being my friend, then?”

He shoves his hands in his back pockets and looks to the ground. Has no one ever asked him that before? Or am I just that shitty to be around? Am I just some kid who needs to be sheltered and protected to him?

Finally he looks back at me, but it’s at the worst time because I feel like I’m crying. Maybe he’s ignoring it, or maybe he doesn't care, or maybe I’m not crying at all. But he smiles and grabs his phone from my lap.

“How about being someone that owes me a favor?”

I smile too. I don't think he means it, not really, cause he can't stop smiling. Even when I hand his phone back. Even when he walks me back to the complex. Even when I invite him in and he declines. Even when he turns his back to me to walk to his building. 

[ikyoudreamofme]

MY MINDS AGAINST ME

CW: mental health,depression

A/N:if you feeling like this please speak to someone. It will get better🤍

________________________________________

Your POV

I've not left my room in weeks let alone my bed. I don't have the energy for anything my friends keep trying to get me to come out with them and I don't answer anyone;not even my boyfriend Johnnie.

If he was to see me right now he would judge me and leave me and I'm not ready for that I feel alone as it is.

It feels like everyone is watching my every move and criticising me for just breathing or blinking. It feels like they hate me and feel bad so just put up with me,Tara doesn't like me,Johnnie doesn't want be with me but can't find a way to leave me,Jake and Carrington don't even want to talk to me. They might not say it or show it but I know I can see it and feel it. It's what my mind tells me and it doesn't stop.

I lay on my back staring blankly at the ceiling,curtains drawn,lights off. Silence. It's been like this for days in probably weeks. My phone keeps ringing and buzzing but I don't pick it up it just sit beside me.

It’s silent for hours until I hear a faint knocking from my front door I ignore it not moving at all but the knocking continues getting louder and more aggressive. I try to ignore but I can't I push my self up out of bed slowly walking towards my bedroom door dragging my feet. I can see a silhouette of three maybe four people standing at the door.

I can hear a muffled "Y/n please open the door we just want to know that you're okay."

"We won't leave until we know you're okay; we're worried y/n/n" another voice.

I gain the courage to unlock the door and open it slowly.

My hairs a mess and greasy, my makeup from weeks ago is smudged and shadow liner is now around my eyes,I'm in a black shirt that I cut to make it off the shoulder and some floral pj shorts. Not a good sight.

I see Tara,Jake,Carrington and Johnnie standing at the door their faces all worried and scared. "Y/n..." I hear Tara say quietly. I go to close the door. There not worried they don't care there just here to have a laugh and judge me. The door stops and I see someone's hand holding it open. "Please just let us talk to you." Jake says. I give in letting go of the door walking away.

Silence again. No one's says anything until Tara speaks up. "cmon y/n", she lightly places her hand on my shoulder "let's go upstairs the boys can stay down here it can be just us for a little while." I nod and follow her upstairs. I look behind me; at Johnnie he looks sad? Worried? He smiles at me and I smile back weakly.

I follow Tara into the bathroom she runs the bath and grabs the hair brush laying on the counter. She doesn't say anything but nods towards the bath tub for me to sit. I sit down my back facing her and she brushes my hair for me gently like I was a piece of china that could break with one touch. "Talk to me y/n what's going on. I want to help you, we all do." She speaks up. "I don't know Tara it's all terrible everything's terrible." My voice breaks and I take a sharp breath in. "I don't know what to do Tara."

She sighs "y/n what's terrible?"

"Everything,I feel like everyone is against me and I want to ask Johnnie for help but I feel like he'll leave to." I say softly tears falling from my eyes dripping onto my lap.

"I promise you he won't leave you. He wants the best for you. He's the reason we all came today he pushed us to come here. I can get him if you want so you can speak to him and just him?" Tara says finishing brushing my hair turning the tap off. "That'd be nice, thank you Tara." I look up at her wiping my eyes. She nods going to get Johnnie.

Johnnies POV

"Johnnie, y/n wants to talk with you." Tara says walking down the stairs. " I ran her a bath so get her cleaned." She adds i nod at Tara and thank her going up the stairs.

"Y/n?" I ask for her. She turns around her eyes red and puffy from crying,she looks exhausted and pale. I walk over to her and open my arms for her. She wraps my arms around my waist tightly and starts crying again my hand on her back and the other on the back of her head. "It's okay y/n. It will be okay I promise." I whisper to her.

My heart breaks all I want is for her to be happy and she's not and I don't know how to help her.

"It's not okay Johnnie my minds against me.i need help." She cries into my chest

"We'll help you, all of us." I say to her. She gets up gets into the bath.

She finished washing her body and hair I went into her room and got her one my hoodies that she tried to hide in her closet and some sweatpants. I let her change in private and she walks out the bathroom hugging me. "thank you J. It means a lot." She mumbles. "It's okay y/n/n I'm always gonna be there for you whenever you need me."

I walk towards the stairs and she follows behind me.

[yourflowersfirst]

day 1,431

okay, i'm gonna speak to you very candidly. i hope that's okay. i think conversation type writing is fun, and i'm in the mood for it. imagine this just two guys, getting dinner, chatting. well. i'm talking at you; you're half listening, half noticing the hot bartender in the corner, not noticing me so much. you steal a few of my fries. whatever. i'll take what i can get.

i've been a little sick all week. good enough to still do my assignments and go for runs and work, you know, manageable. today though, i woke up with a throat so agonizingly painful i could hardly swallow water (let alone those big ass dayquil pills). (but seriously, why are they so huge? it's hell for a sore throat.) something something big thing in my throat, there's a funny joke to be made there if you want. i don't care.

maybe i should stop going for runs when i'm feeling even a little sick. they probably don't help me, and my immune system is already ass as it stands. just to brag a bit though, i ran 6.5 miles earlier this week. i got my hair done the other day, but i've felt too sick to even wash it. do you know how heavenly washing your extensions is? i cum a little just thinking about the concept. but i can't, because i had to be a stupid fuck who got herself sick. washing all of my hair is not only a 2-3 hour long process, but wet hair like that makes illnesses worse for me. yeouch.

i'm sick of things, too. myself, mostly. i'm sick of feeling rotten and not good enough for anyone, anything, any man. my grades are still okay despite me being so bleh i can hardly focus on anything. it'll be a miracle if this post even makes sense. anyway, point is, no amount of male attention could fill the hatred i have for myself in my heart. i'm sick of that. if you know how to fix this carnal need i have to please everyone and give away all i am for someone else, hit me up. tell me what to do.

yesterday after my run (that definitely made my illness worse), i went to get chipotle, as i do. i'm addicted, seriously. as i was walking to the building, a guy driving past me in the parking lot and shouted "BALLS!" at me after rolling his window down. i shit myself laughing. much better than some male attention i've gotten, as you well know if you've read my other posts on this pretentious little blog.

i go back to ohio 8 days from now. if i still feel like garbage even then, i'm rioting, and then donating my organs to science. shit. my lips are chapped because drinking water, as i said, it really fucking hurts. it's 105 ish degrees here every day now, and i can't keep myself hydrated. i don't genuinely pray to god much anymore but i have been all day, reciting mantras to heal my body, mind, and soul.

i'm gonna get my period any day now too. just icing on top of the cake. here's how i know: the other day, before my sickness worsened, i went to hang with vincent (ex roommate) at his new place. i brought fuji so she and lupita could play; i also brought cane's for us to enjoy. jesus. cane's and chipotle in one post, no wonder i'm huge.

so, i went to hang with the fella. he put on dawn of the planet of the apes. i'd never seen any of those movies and there's a new one in theaters right now, so i figured, why the hell not? it'll be a silly time. the movie was shockingly serious. i was invested. (spoilers) when caesar got shot, i yelled, "no!"

"i know, very sad," vincent said while stuffing his face with crinkle cut fries.

i felt my eyes welling with tears. "he was a good leader, how could koba do that?"

"whoa, dude, are you good?"

"he's just... such a good dad... but he was shot! it isn't fair! he just wanted peace with the humans!"

vincent patted my shoulder, confused. "there, there."

i swatted him away, tears falling. i wiped them with a greasy hand. "don't make fun of me! it's so sad. oh god. i need napkins."

my hormones love to go batshit crazy the few days leading up to my period, rattling around my endocrine system like ping pong balls. today i was crying because i just hate being sick so much. go figure. i need to stock up on sanitary napkins (hardy har) and get my heated pad ready.

when i was on birth control, my PMS was manageable. i'd never get upset, never cried over stupid shit like dawn of the planet of the apes. now look at me. 2022 me would be horrified. in the end, though, i prefer this to the nasty side effects of tri-sprintec.

why am i rambling about my hormones and my period? sorry. i'm truly sorry. i just find it amusing in a certain light. i've been listening to "somebody else" by the 1975 a hell of a lot, and it's got me all nostalgic and weepy. really reiterates the fact that i'm a tiny bit unlovable, but hey, fuck that. get money.

i try not to dwell on "situationships" too much, but i can't help it. hot, late summer nights are the perfect time to wallow in your own self pity. i'd smoke a cigarette but i don't wanna make my throat worse. i say that, but cigarettes cause throat cancer. my priorities are truly in order, my friend.

i'm gonna try to go to bed and sleep this shit off. it feels like strep or a sinus infection. don't worry, i'm gonna see a doctor tomorrow, even though i'm cheap and hate paying people to tell me what's wrong with me. ironically enough, this is also why i can't keep a therapist, minus the one i had in high school for my eating disorder. i saw her a bunch last summer, which was cool, except i was seeing her for **** trauma and PTSD so bad i'd have panic attacks every day. good times. i've come a long way in a year. i can't really trust any other therapist except her. why, oh why, must she only do in person sessions in ohio?!

okay, i don't know how to end this one. i'll just share a poem i like, hehehehe. i'm biased toward it, because i'm a redhead, but hopefully you like it too.

"Ash, ash—

You poke and stir.

Flesh, bone, there is nothing there——

A cake of soap,   

A wedding ring,   

A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer   

Beware

Beware.

Out of the ash

I rise with my red hair   

And I eat men like air."

-Lady Lazarus, by Sylvia Plath

[burning-the-write-oil]

Guardian

Summary: Compilation of a few different scenes of Sandor and reader.

Characters: Sandor Clegane/F!Reader

Words: 1.9k

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Warnings: swearing/explicit language, indications of intended non-con/r*pe, explicit sexual references, penetrative sex, oral (f), alluded age gap (reader is in 20s), how fucking large Sandor Clegane is

A/N: So I’ve written yet another piece that wasn’t on my list of things I needed to write, but I have an issue with new characters that I thirst over and having an overwhelming urge to write them, so here’s the result! It’s kind of all over the place, but it was an idea I had that only compiled of a few scenes so I just connected them. I hope you enjoy if you do read! Thank you for your support and please like, reblog, and comment if you desire!

Masterlist

           “C’mon poppet, we don’t bite...much.”

Try as you did, there was no possible way to press yourself any closer against the wall in an attempt to distance yourself from the men. You wished you could melt into the wall, become one and get away. Escape. But there was no escape. Three guards of Kings Landing had you cornered, deciding they were going to have their way with a handmaiden they’d found wandering the halls of the castle alone. A bad decision on your part, it seemed. However, you’d made this trek to the gardens before, spending any time to yourself there, should the weather be suitable.

           “Don’t you fools have enough fun at the brothels? Just let me be on my way,” You pleaded, your heart rate increasing at the sneers and laughs they gave.

           “No charge for you, love. Here for the taking. Can’t give that opportunity up, now can we?” One of the guard’s sickly sweet tones made you grimace, trying to push their grimy hands away from your body as they began to reach to pull at your dress.

A sharp strike to your face at your refusal and attempt to escape caused you to whimper as one man quickly turned you and pressed your face to the wall behind you. Tears pricked in your eyes as you tried to call out for help, only to be met with another strike and a harsh tug to your hair. You tried to tune out the murmurs of “how fun this one will be” and “feisty one, she is” as they decided who would have the first go at you.

Tears slid down your cheeks as one of the men ripped at the fabric of your gown, tearing a strip down the back and side just as the sound of someone drawing their sword met your ears. You froze, immediately noticing the hands of the guard leave you. You hesitated to turn around at the proceeding sound of steel colliding and groans of the men being struck, sliced and falling to the ground, slashed with the stranger’s sword.

Silence filled the air immediately after. You reached for the ripped fabric of your dress, attempting to hold it to your chest to cover yourself in some way before turning around, your red eyes meeting the stranger’s.

Sandor Clegane. The Hound. The king’s bodyguard.

He sheathed his bloodied sword, eyes softening when he met yours, carefully taking a few steps towards you. The guards now in a pool of their own blood. You exhaled shakily, eyes remaining fixed on the metal armor that covered his chest as he stood before you. He carefully brought a hand to your jaw, gently tilting your head up ever so slightly to get a better look at your injuries. His thumb barely brushed the mark and the quickly forming bruise from the man who had struck you and knew there were more than likely more bruises to be found on your body. His touch barely pressed your cheeks as he wiped away the falling tears from your cheeks. Less from the fear in the present and more from the events that had just occurred. What could have happened had Sandor not been there.

           “Let’s get you back to your quarters.” He quietly spoke and you nodded with a sniffle, his hand on the small of your back as he led you down the hall.

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           “Aren’t they going to notice the king’s bodyguard is missing?”

           “Fuck ‘em…” He mumbled against your neck, the scruff around his mouth scratching against your skin at the contact.

You smiled, shaking your head slightly at the retort. The rate at which you’d gone from barely touching the man before you to now having his hands on you almost constantly when you two were together was very quick. Your touch, kisses, and affection were now welcomed to Sandor.

           “You’re going to get us both in trouble.” You smirked, starting to run your fingers through the greasy strands of his hair.

He pulled away from your neck with a sigh, shifting you to now straddle his lap from your original position of sitting to the side. He raised a brow, looking up at you.

           “Are you really that concerned about those cunts right now?”

You shook your head with a small grin, tilting your head to press your forehead to his, brushing the tip of his nose with yours.

           “That’s what I thought.” He growled, gently guiding your head with a hand grasping your chin to place more kisses now along your jawline.

You paused for a few moments, appreciating the attention he gave you before speaking again, much to his displeasure.

           “I missed you.”

He pulled away to look up at you, this time not in slight annoyance but to better listen as you spoke.

           “Not easy protecting the little shit and handling his insistent demands. Finding time to come to see you without being summoned isn’t as easy..” He simply replied, eyes searching your face. 

You nodded understandably, brushing the back of your hand along his cheek. You knew he wanted to see you, but you both had to keep up the image that nothing was going on between you two.

           “Guess we should make the most of our time then.”

           “Aye, that’s what I’ve been trying to do since I got here.” He mumbled in fake annoyance and you could immediately sense the playfulness in his tone.

Rolling your eyes, you immediately leaned down to press your lips to his, hands resting on the back of his neck. You loved these moments.

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           “Gods, don’t stop, please!” You whined, doing your best to keep your voice low as your eyes fluttered open to attempt to look down at the man between your thighs, eagerly licking at your pussy as you were laid across the wooden table in your quarters.

Sandor harshly sucked your clit between his lips before pulling back ever so slightly to speak,

           “You keep whimpering like that and I won’t be able to finish. Don’t like people interrupting my meal…” He grumbled, using his thumbs to separate your lower lips and lick a long stripe along the length of your labia.

You bit your lip to muffle the moan that wanted to escape your lips as you were steadily brought to the edge for the second time, your sensitive clit aching at the contact and the wet squelching sounds of his lips and tongue giving attention to your swollen center.

           “Come up h-here so I can give y-you the attention you deserve.” You managed to get out, your body jolting slightly as he removed his mouth from you moments later.

He chuckled lowly, slowly rising from his knees to stand before you, lips shiny with your arousal.

          “You mean so I can fuck you?”

           “Works out for both of us, now doesn’t it?” You raise a brow with a teasing smirk, hands reaching up to pull the top of your dress down even further, baring more of your breasts to him.

He groans, leaning down to drag his teeth across one of your nipples before unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down to free his hardened length that was now leaking at the tip.

           “You could always have your betrothed do the job for you.” His tone bitter at the reference to the man your father had arranged for you to marry.

That couldn’t be further from what you wanted as he pulled you off of the table, flipping you around to now face the table before shoving you to bend over it.

           “If I wanted a boy to fuck me, I’d be over there right now.” You told him, your body shivering in excitement as he used his knee to spread your thighs further apart.

          “Oh, that’s right. You want a man to fuck you proper… Plenty of other men in King’s Landing, girl.” He slowly dragged the tip of his cock along the length of your slit, coating him in your arousal before pausing at your entrance.

          “Fuck, Sandor! I want you, okay? I want you to fuck me, please!” You practically begged, your hands trying to reach for an edge on the table as you tried to push your ass back towards his hips.

           He chuckled at your pleading, knowing very well that he was who you wanted. “That’s right, girl.”

He thrust into you roughly, his large hands immediately grabbing onto your hips and pulling them back to meet his thrusts. You pressed your mouth to your arm in front of you, trying to muffle the moans that fell from your lips as your body jolted forward with every quick thrust.

           “Such a sweet girl, but like it so rough, doesn’t she? Imagine what your father would think, knowing you let The Hound ruin you.” He growled as he brought a hand forward to gather your hair and pull you up towards him.

You could only whimper in response, mumbling for him to fuck you harder before your lips pressed together in hopes your cries of pleasure wouldn’t be heard past the doors of your quarters.

           “You going to come for me, sweet one?” He grunted as his thrusts slowed ever so slightly, still continuing to plow into you.

           “Yes, please let me come!” You whined, your hands searching for anything to grab on the surface below you.

Sandor’s grunts and growls grew louder as he reached his peak as well, the rhythm of his thrusts beginning to falter.

            “Come on then. Come for me.” He groaned as your walls clenched around him and your orgasm hit you moments later, your head falling to the surface as your body shook, feeling him reach his release not long after you. 

Both your pants and heavy breathing were the only thing that could be heard now and you weren’t sure you’d be able to stand without your thighs shaking. He pulled out of you slowly as he caught his breath and you could feel his release slowly begin to leak out of you. A few soft pats to your ass and he helped you up and over to your bed, laying you on your back. You began to cover yourself with your sheet as you watched him begin to dress.

You wished he could stay but you both knew he couldn’t. Someday, you hoped he could.

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           “Father, please! I love him!” You sobbed, following after him as he departed from the gardens, tears steadily falling from your cheeks and your breath ragged with fear.

           “No, you are betrothed! I will not have you seeing that man anymore. I am astounded at your behavior.” He answered, pausing at the edge of the garden, expression stern.

           “I won’t see him anymore, I promise. Just don’t make me leave, please!” You struggled to get out, eyes pleading as he shook his head. 

           “You leave at sundown and that is final. I will not hear any more of this. You’re never to see that man again.”

Your father strode off, leaving you at the edge of the garden astounded. Your eyes shut tightly as your body shook with quiet sobs. Shakily inhaling, you angrily wiped the tears from your eyes and when you looked up you saw Sandor standing near the side of the castle, a small distance away. You knew he’d heard the entirety of the conversation, you could see the rage in his eyes at your father’s words.

Tears began to fill your eyes once again, his saddened expression one due to your own reaction to the situation. You paused for a moment, watching him, your eyes locked. You knew he knew, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

It took everything in you to turn away and make your out of the garden, away from the man you loved.

[dollslayer]

Charity Case

Bucky Barnes x Reader, College AU, enemies to lovers

Summary: You loathe Bucky Barnes and his cocky attitude but you find yourself doing him a favor. Is he really as insufferable as he seems?

W/C: 3,830

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, uhhh kissing, that's it!

A/N: Here it is! My entry for @sweeterthanthis Quote Me On It 6k challenge!! My quote was "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?" (in bold). I love the Heathers so I'm excited!! Hopefully I did this prompt justice. As always, if you liked it please reblog/comment! Cheers! I do not consent to my work being reposted/translated on any platform.

Main Masterlist

____

Steve was running late again. You try not to chew your nails off in frustration but he’s definitely testing you. This is the third time in the last two weeks that he’s late to meet you. When he hasn’t been late he’s cancelled all together. Always with a half-ass apology of ‘Bucky needs me’. As if.

You’ve been friends with Steve since your freshman year creative writing class when the only open seat was next to him. Ever since that first day you two had been close. But not as close as him and Bucky. Childhood friends attending university together, thicker than thieves.

You always felt like Bucky was maybe a little jealous of the friendship you and Steve have. Maybe you’re a little jealous too but you’re almost positive Bucky is more jealous of you than you are of him but that’s beside the point. On top of his jealousy Bucky was just annoying. He had a girlfriend but he was always flirting with every girl he met, yourself included. Not to mention he was cocky as all hell.

Steve vouches for his character, swears that it’s all an act and he’s actually very sensitive underneath but you don’t buy it for a second. If you were his girlfriend you’d have dumped him a long time ago.

You don’t have time to dwell on your annoyance too much because Steve is rushing through the doors of the coffee shop. He looks around for you and when he finally finds you the look on his face is relieved. As he gets closer it’s clear that he’d been running to get to you in time. He’s sweaty and a little out of breath and if you weren’t so annoyed with him you’d have found it endearing that he ran here.

“There you are,” he huffs out, “I’m so sorry, I was with Bucky and I lost track of time.”

You purse your lips and hand him a napkin which he takes with a gracious nod before wiping the sweat from his brow. You hand him the iced coffee you’d ordered for him too. The ice is slightly melted from sitting there but he looks so refreshed to be drinking it.

“Figures” is all you say with a huff. If he hadn’t been doing it so often you would’ve been a little kinder about it but you were just irked.

“Seriously, I’m sorry. Nat just dumped him, he's been having a hard time” Steve explained.

“Is it because he flirts with anything that moves?” You scoff.

Steve scoffs in return “He does not! He’s just… outgoing. But no, they had their own problems.” You raise one eyebrow at him. “Okay the flirting had something to do with it but there’s a lot going on there.”

“Whatever, let’s just study for this exam while we can”.

____

You and Steve spent the next two hours cramming for your midterm together. Things were going well and you’d nearly forgotten that you were mad at Steve in the first place. Nearly.

You were so deep into your notecards that you didn’t hear the door open behind you. A voice that could grate on only your nerves. A voice that if it didn’t belong to such a bastard, might even be kinda sexy. The voice breaks your focus completely when it calls out.

“Hey, Steve, are you done already or what? Oh hey, what’s up, beautiful?”

You set your notecards down on the table maybe a little harder than you should. You shoot Steve a glare because you thought it would just be the two of you. Really? You cut in before Steve can answer his friend.

“No, Bucky, he’s not. Can we help you?”

He smirks, giving you his full attention. He knows he has you now, knows you took the bait and he’s goaded you to the point of backtalk. He pulls up a chair to the table and wedges himself tightly between you and Steve. The sound of the chair legs scraping the floor as he scoots closer to you rings in your ears and makes you cringe. You look at Steve again only to find him avoiding your gaze.

“Well, sweetheart, me and Stevie boy here have plans later. Gonna do some gaming and order a pizza, really embracing the bachelor lifestyle.” He raised his eyebrows at this and you just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I heard Nat dumped your ass, actually, is that true?” You asked with a fake sweetness.

“Why, you interested?” He rebuffed.

You bristled at his quick response and muttered your annoyance under your breath. You chose not to respond. Instead you decided to address Steve.

“Steve, I didn’t realize that you had plans”

“Oh… yeah, loose plans…” He answered distractedly while pretending to be reading a text on his phone.

You decide to call it a day. You were getting seriously fed up with Steve’s passive behavior in all of this. Thankfully you didn’t have much to pack up, so once you slung your backpack over your shoulder you looked up at the pair to bid them goodnight.

“Well, Steve, this was… enlightening. Bucky, eat it. Goodnight fellas, have fun with your ‘bachelor lifestyle’” You said with air quotes. Turning on your heel you left before either could respond.

____

You had left the coffee shop that evening pretty upset with Steve. Of course it’s fine for him to have other friends but lately it was like he only cared about Bucky and all of your plans took a backseat to theirs. You decided you weren’t going to be the one to text Steve first, since he was being a bad friend. He could be the one to initiate plans.

He did just that when he caught you in the hallway after your midterm a week later. He jogged up to you once again and tugged on your sleeve to get you to stop.

“Hey, how do you think you did? Bet those notecards paid off, right?” He half-joked. He looked sheepish. Nervous almost. You figured it was because of what happened last time you met.

“Yeah, Jesus Christ! I’ve never been so grateful for little pieces of paper.” You scoffed. You decided to keep it light between you. You were still upset with him but his tone leads you to believe he was gonna apologize.

“Right?” He laughs nervously, “So listen, I know I’ve been kind of a jerk lately… Maybe we could get something to eat at Nick’s?”

Nick’s was the local greasy spoon on campus and they had the best breakfast food you’d ever had. You eyed him suspiciously but accepted.

“Alright, but you’re buying. And there better not be any visitors!” You add as you bound down the hall ahead of him. He knows you mean Bucky and he’s not worried because Bucky won’t be showing up today. He’s more nervous about what he has to ask you.

____

You’re sipping on pop as you play with your straw wrapper. You look up at Steve and notice he’s fidgeting a lot more than usual.

“What’s up? Why are you so twitchy?” You question him.

“Me? I’m not twitchy! I was just thinking that’s all” He quickly defends himself.

“Well that was the last midterm of the semester for both of us, I think it’s safe to say you can relax.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Steve concedes quietly.

You and Steve eat in near silence, neither of you mind though because it’s comfortable. You worked on your hashbrowns when you looked up and noticed that Steve had barely touched his food. He was still fidgety, he looked nervous.

“Hey, you’ve hardly eaten anything, what’s the matter?”

He looks a little embarrassed, like he’s been caught. Or like he’s about to come clean about something.

“Look, I wanted to say sorry I know I haven’t been the best friend lately with everything going on with Bucky. He really is having a hard time since the breakup y’know… he’s lonely”

“Right” You laughed, “I’m sure he’s soo lonely.” You rolled your eyes and picked up your fork.

“No really, he just needed a friend to be there. I think he does need to get back out there though.”

“With how smooth he thinks he is, I'm sure he’ll have a date by the end of the night. I wouldn’t worry about it, Stevie.” You responded.

“I’m serious! As much of a player as he comes off he needs to be with someone he already knows. He’s actually really sensitive.” You interrupted with another laugh. There were many choice words you’d use to describe Bucky Barnes but ‘sensitive’ is not one of them.

“But anyway, I was...kinda hoping you’d do me a favor…” Steve trails off.

Based on the conversation you just had you’re cautious. You eye him warily but motion for him to continue.

“Well, like I said Buck’s having a hard time and he needs to get back out there but he doesn’t feel comfortable hooking up with a stranger. I was thinking maybe.. You guys should hang out?”

Steve refused to look at you as he finished the question. The look on your face was a look of confusion and shock.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?” you asked in disbelief. “I mean seriously, I’m nice but not that nice.”

“Look-”

“No!” You cut him off, “You know I can’t stand that prick. Also why would I want to put myself on the long list of women he’s probably tried to fuck? I don’t buy this whole ‘sensitive’ thing for a minute.”

“I’m serious, Nat kinda crushed his heart when she left. He acts cocky but it’s a front. I just think he needs to see someone to get it out of his system. You’ve got more in common than you think. Just hang out with him once. Don’t think of it like a date, just a really really big favor. Please?” Steve begged.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “You. Owe. Me. So. Much”

“Really?” He asked hopefully.

“Really. But I’m not gonna bang him. Hard no on that” you said.

“Yeah, yeah of course! No problem! I’ll give Bucky your number!” He reached across the table and grabbed your hand. His hands were kidna clammy but you let him.

“Seriously, thank you. I know you think he’s some jerk but I promise he’s a good guy.” Steve adds, “A-and don’t think of it as like a date, even, y'know? I think honestly he could just use another friend. Think of how good it could be if we could all hang together some time?”

You shook your head and chuckled at his optimism while you stabbed another bite of your meal.

____

‘What’s up, sweetface?’ Gross.

‘Okay, sorry. Hi, how are you?’ Better.

‘I’m alright, you?’

‘Good. Steve tells me you’re a huge trivia nerd. Wanna go to Sally’s tn?’

‘It’s a date’ Shit. Didn’t mean to say that. Fuck. Quick- say something that will deflect before he responds!

‘And since it’s a date you’re paying’ That’ll have to do.

‘Ugh fine. Here’s hoping you’re a cheap date at least. I’ll meet you there at 9’

____

What do you wear for a date with someone that you despise? It’s just bar trivia so it’s nothing special but somehow the jeans and flannel you’ve been wearing all day don’t feel like they make the cut. You rip your closet apart trying to find something before you settle on black skinny jeans and your favorite sweater with some boots. Casual but not too casual.

You spend the whole walk there dreading the night ahead of you. Knowing that you wouldn’t even have Steve as a buffer between you made the whole evening seem daunting. At least you had trivia to distract you. You decide to give Bucky the benefit of the doubt tonight for Steve’s sake. You try to remember Steve’s insistence that Bucky’s a good guy and you have a lot in common. We’ll see about that.

When you arrive at the bar you find Bucky already waiting for you at a high-top table with two PBRs and a shot of brown liquid. Please don’t let that be whiskey. He sees you coming and smiles that damn-his-good-looks smile at you while patting the open chair next to him. The closer you get you even see that he got the whiteboard already for trivia.

“Please tell me that’s not Jameson or Fireball” you greet him.

He laughs a little and shakes his head. “Better - it’s Jack. Sorry, doll, but I already opened the tab. This is what we’re drinking” He nudges one of the shots closer to you and motions for you to pick it up. “Come on, we gotta start the night off right, bottoms up!”

Before you can gag at the thought of drinking whiskey you grab the glass and face him. You both knock your shots on the table before clinking them together and swallowing them in one go. You grimace at the taste and feel the warmth flow all the way down your throat. You quickly take a sip of your beer to rid yourself of the taste.

“Aww, you’re cute when you’re grossed out.” Bucky coos at you.

You’re embarrassed and annoyed but it goes away quickly.

“Shut up, Barnes”

You give him a light shove and he pretends like he’s about to fall off his stool, making you laugh. For someone that’s only ever annoyed you he’s doing a pretty bang-up job of being likeable when it’s just the two of you.

“You ready for me to carry you through some trivia?” You joked.

“Hey, now! I know...stuff” he concluded.

“Mmhmmm, I’m sure you do. Don’t worry, I’ll answer the questions and you just sit there and look pretty” you reach over to pat his face lightly with a wink.

Bucky grumbles before taking another sip of his beer.

You settle in for a long night when the host announces the first round is starting.

____

You managed to steal the first round without breaking a sweat, second round was a little rocky until it came down to you and one other couple. You knew the third round would be tricky but the way Bucky was cheering you on you were determined. To no one’s surprise Bucky had been completely useless so far but to his credit he was trying. At least he was a supportive teammate.

Things were going well until the third round was announced: Old School Videogames. You didn’t know shit about old school videogames. Or regular videogames. The extent of your video game knowledge started and ended with Mario Kart.

When the third round was announced though Bucky hit the table in excitement and cheered.

“Woo! Fuck yeah!” He pats you on the shoulder, “I got this, don’t worry. I so fuckin’ got this!”

He was a few drinks deep but he was so confident and he was your only hope so you went with it. He looked like a little kid the way he was practically giddy.

“You had better! There’s some serious prize money riding on this round.” You said in warning.

“No, no. You don’t understand that I’ve GOT this. Your turn to look pretty, not that it’s gonna be all that hard for you, sweetface” Bucky grinned at you over his beer as he took another sip.

Your cheeks felt heated and you tried your best to hide it by taking another drink yourself. Bucky’s flirting has never worked until now. Must be the alcohol.

“Shut up, Barnes” you mumble.

“Y’keep saying that but what I really think you mean is ‘I love you, Bucky you’re so strong and handsome~’” He imitated in a high pitched feminine voice.

You shoved him for real and before you could say anything else the third round was starting.

____

Bucky wasn’t kidding when he said he had this. He had won the round in a clean sweep and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed. Who knew this man harbored so much videogame trivia? When the host handed you the prize money he just waggled his eyebrows as if to say See?

“I gotta hand it to you, Barnes, I had no idea you had that much videgame wisdom rolling around up there. The only videogame I ever play is Mariokart so I’d be toast without you.”

“Mariokart? That’s it?? No problem, doll. It was nice to contribute.” He chuckles at that.

You divvied the money up and handed him his half.

“Guess I’m not such a cheap date afterall, huh?”

He chuckled as he took his half from you.

“I’m gonna go pay the tab with our winnings, I’ll be back”

You picked up your phone while you waited for him to find some missed texts from Steve.

‘How’s it going?’ ‘Are you guys doing okay?’ ‘I haven’t heard anything so I’m assuming you haven’t killed each other. Have fun, text if you need a ride home.’

You almost rolled your eyes at Steve’s insistence but found yourself smiling instead. You’d text him back when you got home.

Bucky was walking up to you once more and you smiled at him slightly.

“You said you’re good at Mariokart?”

“I didn’t say I was good at Mariokart, I said that I played it. Why?”

“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could go back to mine and I could whoop your butt”

You weren’t going to say yes but now he was goading you and you took the bait without hesitation.

“Oh, you’re on, Barnes. You’re so, so on.”

His smile grew wider when he heard your response. With that he placed his hand on your lower back and ushered you out of the bar.

____

You played two tournament cups worth of Mariokart and Bucky had indeed whooped your butt. You don’t know why you were surprised, with how much gaming he and Steve do it’s no surprise he’s a natural. You still had fun though. Just when you were about to propose a third round Bucky got up and headed to the kitchen without a word.

He came back with two glasses of water and handed you one. He sat down on the floor next to you and you set down your controller.

“Here, drink up.”

You were taken aback a bit by the kind gesture but accepted the glass just the same.

“Thank you, I might regret saying this but, you’re not so bad when you’re not being insufferable, Barnes”. You told him

He smiled and shook his head as he drank his water.

“Thanks, I guess”

“How come you can’t be like this all the time? When it’s just the two of us you’re so kind and you’re even… I don’t know, funny maybe. Why do you get all cocky whenever else I see you?”

He looked down into his glass at your comment and you watched his brows crease in thought.

“I don’t know, it just sort of… happens, whenever I’m around other people I don’t know that well. I don’t mean to be a dick or anything but it’s like I can’t help myself. People expect me to be a certain way and I can’t help but fall into it sometimes. Nat hated that about me, it’s part of the reason why she dumped me, actually”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that. And I’m sorry about the breakup, too. I know you guys were together for a while.” Bucky only shrugged at this and downed the rest of his water.

“It is what it is. I’m ready to be over it, I’m getting there slowly but surely. I gotta say, you’re not so bad either when you’re not getting all defensive and in my face. You’re actually pretty funny”

Your turn to become flustered at a personal analysis.

“Thanks, I guess I don’t mean to be so defensive either, it's just my response to most other people. I feel myself slip into it and it can’t be helped.” You explained.

Bucky nods at you, not knowing entirely what to say in response.

“I like spending time with you” He says leaning closer to you.

You swallow thickly, not sure what to make of what you feel knowing his face is so close to yours.

“I… like spending time with you too. You’re not what I thought.”

“Me neither,” he shakes his head, “You’re something else.”

With that he leans his head closer to yours and you feel yourself close your eyes and move your lips to slant perfectly into his. You’re kissing Bucky Barnes. The Bucky Barnes you can’t stand. That Bucky Barnes. You’ve decided that his tongue feels too good in your mouth to care now.

His hands come to frame your face and bring you in closer. His hands are warm and calloused but they feel like comfort. You can’t help but to melt. You moan into his mouth and it seems to spur him on. He pulls you into his lap and you let out a noise of surprise that’s muffled by his mouth on yours.

Your hands come to caress his sides and you take your time feeling every muscle and ridge. Your hands idly make their way under the hem of his shirt and his skin is just as smooth as you’d expect. He sighs into your mouth and it takes all of your strength not to fall apart right there. You feel yourself getting lightheaded and have to pull away for air. When you do you rest your forehead against his and the only sound is both of your breathing.

You finally brave a look at him and he has the softest smile on his lips.

“Sorry, doll, didn’t mean to get so carried away but I’ve been waiting for a long time to do that.”

This catches you off guard.

“You have? Wait, did you like me? But you flirt with everyone!” You explain.

“With you, I flirt with you. You just can’t stand me” he laughs out, “Nat dumped me for a couple reasons but that’s one of them she told me I needed to get my priorities straight and I gotta say, I’m thankin’ her for sayin’ it ‘cause she was right.”

You don’t know what to say or what to make of any of this. All you know is that you want to kiss him again, so you do. You grab him by the collar and pull him into you again. He lets out a startled noise but kisses you back all the same.

You don’t care what you used to think of Bucky Barnes and you don’t care about what’ll happen after today. Right now all you care about is feeling him in sync with you for the first time. You could live in this moment forever but right now will have to do.

[raineydays411]

The best of friends pt3

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Summary: So it turns out that you do have other friends. Who would’ve guessed? 

A/n: Hello! So.. because i don’t feel like writing the whole fight scene, the events of homecoming already happened before the actual dance and Liz is moving after the school year ends.

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

“Am I dreaming or is that you Jason Todd?”

“Yeah its me, don’t cream your pants.”

You laugh, running to embrace your friend, and he catches you spinning you around then putting you down. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask breathlessly, “Doesn’t your dad hate leaving Gotham?”

“Well he had a meeting with your dad today, so we made him bring us.” 

“Ohh, so that’s the meeting dad didn’t want to go to” You think.

“You’re brothers are here?” You look around for the boys, but not seeing any.

Jason laughs, “Just Tim and Damian, I kind of ditched them at the Tower, I think I would’ve gone crazy if I stayed another second.”

“Aw, were you expecting me to be there?” You tease, grinning wide as the boy turned a light shade of red.

“Oh please, if you were there I think I’d die of boredom” He teases back, a matching grin growing on his face. But before you can answer back you hear Mj shout at you. 

“Y/n! Are you gonna keep flirting or can we go on some rides?”

“Yeah Iron baby, are you gonna keep flirting?” 

You roll your eyes at the nickname, despite your protests you know he’s not going to stop calling you that. 

“Hey you’re not here with anyone are you?” “Um no why?” 

You grab his hand and pull him towards Mj and Ned, who were looking at the both of you in shock.

“You’re Jason Todd..” Ned says, surprised to see him here.

“Uh..hi” Jason responds, not knowing what to say.

“Jay and I are friends” You say, “ We hang out at the galas and judge people.”

Jason laughs, “That is not what we do.” 

“Oh? So then why do you mean mug people from the corner of the room?” 

Mj and Ned make eye contact, having a silent conversation as you and Jason banter. 

“So, you’re one of Y/n’s ‘friends that don’t live in the city’?” Mj asks, eyeing Jason and you. 

He slings and arm on your shoulders, “ Is that what you call us Y/n?” He turns to Mj to respond but before he can answer Peter and Liz finally make an appearance. 

“Oh so you two finally decided to grace us with your presence?” Mj drawls 

“Sorry guys, I really wanted this Spiderman plush and Peter was trying to win it for me” Liz says with a giggle. Peter blushes, not taking his eyes off Liz. 

You frown at the sight. Frustration growing in your head, this was supposed to be your day with Peter. And now it was ruined. 

“You spent over an hour trying to win a little doll?” You said bitterly, making everyone stare at you. 

“Ah come on iron baby, we all know those games are rigged.” Jason says from beside you. You tear your eyes away from Peter and Liz, “Rigged or not, I bet I can win a prize before you, Jay-Bird”

“Oh is that a bet?” “Um yeah, I literally just said that.” “Okay fine!”

Then you and Jason are off, running towards the nearest booth that gives out prizes. 

“Umm, who was that?” Peter asking, looking in the direction you ran off. 

“That was Jason Todd” Liz responds, “ You know, Bruce Wayne's son.”

“What was he doing with his arm around Y/n?” he asks with a frown.

“Well apparently they’re friends, he just showed up. We didn’t even notice him until we saw him spinning Y/n around like a washing machine.” Ned says with a laugh.

“What, so they’re like...close?” Peter asks. Mj and Ned look at each other. 

“Um I guess...” Ned says hesitantly.

“Well, I for one, haven’t heard Y/n talk as much as she has been now.” Mj says, a knowing look on her face. Peter made a face, not understanding what Mj was talking about. 

“That's true” Liz adds in, “She’s pretty quiet, it’s kinda weird.”

“Well to be fair you two haven’t been exactly talking to her.” Ned defending you, “ She opened up quite a bit after she got comfortable.”

“Yeah, besides, Peter is the one who she knows the best, I wouldn’t be comfortable hanging out with people I just met.” Mj says, glancing at Peter. 

Peter didn’t know how to feel. At first he was psyched to be spending time alone with Liz. He didn’t even think about how you would feel when he invited her and his friends on your shopping day. This whole day he was trying to get closer to Liz, he forgot that you hardly knew Ned and Mj.  But it was okay, you gained two new friends, and now Peter has a chance with Liz. 

He looked at Liz, 

“She looks so pretty” He thinks, but deep in his mind, a voice kept bringing up an image of your face.

“Oh shoot” Liz says, “ Hey guys, my mom is here to pick me up.”

“I’ll walk you to the car!” Peter shouts, startling Mj and Ned. 

‘Okay thanks Pete!” Liz says, wrapping an arm around his. Peter turns back to Ned and Mj with a grin. 

Ned winks back and Mj just rolls her eyes, going to find you and Jason. 

As Peter and Liz walk, he starts to get nervous. This whole day he has been alone with her, but now...now he has to leave an impression. 

“I had a lot-” “It was really coo-” 

The two laugh

“You go first” Peter says.

“It was really cool of you to invite me, I had a great time.” Liz says with a smile. Peter grins, happy that she had a good time with him. and his friends.

“Yeah? I’m glad, I had fun too.” 

They finally make it to the parking lot where Liz’s mother is waiting.  Liz’s face suddenly looks nervous.

“Hey Peter,” Liz turns to Peter, “ Do you have a date to homecoming?”

Peters breath hitches, “Um..no-no why?” 

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”

He...he isn’t as excited as he thought he’d be. In fact, this was kind of anti-climatic. 

“Y-yeah, of course!” Peter says forcing enthusiasm.  Liz’s face brightens and she smiles, pulling Peter into a hug.

“Awesome! I’ll text you with the details later?” She asks, pulling away to get into the car.

“That sounds great” Then without warning, Liz grabs Peters face and gives him a quick peck. 

“I’ll see you later Peter Parker.” and with that, she hopped into her mom's car and drove away. Peter stood there, hand on his mouth looking at the spot Liz stood. 

For some reason..he didn’t feel as happy as he should’ve. 

“What is wrong with me?” He asked himself. He shakes his head and turns around. Ready to walk back to where he last saw his friends. 

Turns out, they were all at a booth near the parking lot. And saw the whole thing.

“Dude!” Ned said running up to Peter, “Liz Allen just kissed you! You’re going to HOMECOMING with Liz Allen!” 

“Yeah..I am” Peter says, forcing excitement for his friend,” I can’t believe it.”

“Dude! You’ve been pining over her for YEARS! “ Ned shouts, “ You did it!” 

Meanwhile, Mj is rubbing your arm in comfort as you hold back tears. You saw everything. Peter really didn’t like you the way you thought. You felt defeated, betrayed even. All those moments...they meant nothing to him.  Every moment you held close to your heart. 

“Hey, are you alright Y/n?” Jason whispers, sensing your sadness. 

“um..no not really...” you whisper back, feeling a tear run down your face. Jason wipes it away before you could. 

“Hey, come on lets get you something to drink.” He pulls you away from Mj with a nod. But before he could get far, Peter called out

“Y/n..are you okay?” 

You don’t say anything, your back turned to him so he doesn’t see your face.

“She’s not feeling too hot, I’m gonna get some water and food in her, see if she perks up” Jason responded for you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

Peter looks at the arm, “I can do that” He steps closer to you but before he can touch you, you speak up.

“Don’t touch me, I want Jay to take me.”

And with that, Jason adjusts his grip on you and walks you to a food truck. Leaving behind a disheartened Peter. 

You sit on a bench as Jason orders you some food. Alone, you’re able to gather your thoughts and think about what just happened.  

“Did Peter really not like me? If he didn’t why did he act so flirty with me?” 

It made you mad. It wasn’t fair that he made you feel special then dropped you as soon as someone else came along. He ignores you all day for her, then acts innocent? Screw that.

“Here you go, one greasy ass burger and a bottle of water. We dine like true kings.” 

Jason plops down next to you, “So are you gonna tell me whats wrong or what?”

You scoff, “ Wow, you sure have a way with the ladies.” 

“Whatever.” the raven haired boy rolls his eyes, “ So what’s up? Is it that Peter kid?”

You sigh and explain everything. From when you first met Peter to now. After you were done, Jason stayed quiet. Digesting what you just told him and trying to find the right words to say.

“Fuck him.” He says simply. 

“What?” You say surprised at his comment. 

“Fuck. Him” He repeats looking you in the eye, “ Why are you going to waste your time on someone who doesn’t want you? It’s his lose anyway.”

You stay quiet, not exactly knowing how to respond. 

Two of you eat in silence, watching parents run after their children, and take in the atmosphere. 

“Hey.. we never did finish our bet.” Jason says, standing up. 

You look up at him, a small smile forming on your face. “No, I guess we didn’t.”

“Well come on, I don’t have all day.” He holds out his hand, refusing to look at you. You take it, interlocking your fingers.

You walk in silence, faces red but its comforting. It was nice to see this side of Jason. When the two of you see each other, you both have a this fake persona for the media. You couldn’t truly show who you really were. You only caught glimpses of each others true self when you’d sneak away from the crowds. You both hated those stupid galas Bruce threw. Your dad would force you to go so he wouldn’t be alone, and Jason had to go as Bruce Waynes son. 

A match made in heaven.

“Here we are.” Jason says, releasing your hand. “Ready to get your ass handed to you?”

“Oh you wish Todd.”You scoff, walking up to the man running the booth. 

“Hello little lady, three bucks for a three chances.” 

You hand him the money and get the balls. It seemed simple enough, toss the balls, knock down the clowns, win the prize. 

You wind your arm back, and throw the ball with all your might. You end up knocking down two out of the five clowns down. You go again, getting the other three.v

“You got a good aim little miss. What can I get for ya?” 

“The Iron man please.” You hear Jason scoff from his place behind you, “ Oh, is someone a little salty he lost the bet?”

“Whatever princess, it was pure luck.”

“Luck? or years of training with an expert marksman?” You say referring to the times you trained with Clint.

“Whatever.” He says rolling his eyes.

“Aw come on Jay bird, don’t be so salty.” You coo, “ Here, something to remember me by.” You hand him the Iron man with a smirk.  He takes it with a sigh, trying to hide the smile forming on his face. 

“Yeah yeah, come on let's go play that booth with the balloons.” He takes your hand, dragging you to the booth. 

It turns out to be a game with water guns. You both race to make the balloon pop. Jason wins at this game 

“Ha” He says turning to you with a smirk. “ Aw, come on Princess, don’t be so salty.” He turns to attendant “ yeah can i have the Red Hood, thanks” 

He hands you the Red Hood doll, “ Here, something to remember me by” 

You roll your eyes, “ Don’t you use my words against me.” You take the doll, looking it over, “ Hey, why the Red Hood?”

Jason freezes, as you caught him in a lie or something. “Uhh, cause...he’s from Gotham, and so am I...” 

You squint at him, finding his response weird, “Um, okay?” 

He looks relieved with your acceptance. Weird. 

He takes your hand again and you both walk around, catching up on stuff you’ve missed in the months you haven't seen each other. While you were talking, you could’ve sworn you saw a flash of light from the corner of your eye. 

Oh well.

“Hey guys, over here.” 

You both turn to see Ned and Peter. 

“Hey, where’s Mj?” You ask as the two boys walk up to you and Jason.

“She had to leave, her dad picked her up a few minutes ago.” Ned replied, “We were coming to look for you guys.”

“Oh, are you ready to go?” You asked, “ Is anyone picking you up Ned?” 

“Nah I’m spending the night at Peters, we’re gonna watch Star Wars.” He says excitedly. 

Jason snorts, and you elbow him in the stomach, “ I happen to like Star Wars very much. And even if I didn’t, don’t be a dick to my friends.” 

“Sorry man, you just reminded me of my...brother, Tim. Sounds like something he’d like.” Jason says apologetically. 

“I’m friends with Y/n Stark..” Ned whispered.

Peter was quiet, he hasn’t said a word since he saw you and Jason laughing together. His mood worsened when he saw your intertwined hands. 

“So, you’re feeling better.” Peter states, avoiding your eyes. 

“Um, yeah...guess I just needed some food in me.” You mutter. An awkward silence coming over the group. 

“Hey are we going to ride the subway? It sucks going on there at night.” Ned says breaking the silence. 

“Is it? I know I hated walking around at night back home.” Jason says with a frown.

“Yeah man, my mom had to work late one night and she said she saw two homeless people getting it on.”

The four of you cringe at the thought.

“I’ll call Happy” You say pulling out your phone. You walk away, letting go of Jason's hand.

The three boys are left alone, not exactly knowing what to say to each other.

“So...how do you know Y/n?” Ned asks

“Oh uh” Jason goes to say how he knows you when he stops, he noticed how Peter’s mood seemed to worsen when he saw him with you. 

“Me and Y/n ditch galas together.” He says, “ We sneak into my room and...play games.” 

Peters face darkens, “Play games?” 

“Yeah, you know”

“No. I don’t.” 

“Interesting..” Jason thinks to himself 

“Like poker and shit”He replies, “ She’s shit at it, but i like seeing her get all happy when she wins so I let her.”

Peter smiles, knowing how happy you get when you win at games. Then frowns, knowing that Jason has seen you the same way he has. 

“Hey, whos that?” Ned asks, “ He’s been looking at Y/N for a while now.��� 

Peter and Jason whip their head towards where Ned was pointing. Low and behold, there was a guy staring at you. You, too busy on your call with Happy, weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. 

The guy looked like a creep. His eyes roaming your body as if you were a piece of meat. It was disgusting.  But before Peter could do anything, Jason was already striding towards you. 

Now, Peter was strong, but he wasn’t too intimidating out of his suit. But jason? Jason was massive, even for an eighteen year old. He was tall, very well built, and just had this dark aura around him. 

Peter didn’t like him. 

Meanwhile, you were chatting to Happy about the where you were, apologizing for calling him so last minutes. 

“Thanks so much Happy, I’ll see you right now.” 

“Yeah yeah.” He hangs up. You chuckle putting your phone back into your purse. Looking up you see Jason striding towards you. 

“Hey i just-” He cuts you off, harshly slamming his arm above your head and leaning in close. 

“Theres a man staring at you.” He whispers, “ Right over there.” 

You follow his gaze, seeing the man who has a frightened expression. Jason was sending a death glare his way that could have frightened Batman himself. The man scurries off without a second glance.

Jason gently thumps you on the back of your head, “See what happens when you stand there like a space cadet.”

‘Oh..I was?”

Peter and Ned walk up to the two of you

“Y/n, you have to be more aware when you’re by yourself.” Peter scolds. 

“He’s right, or its going to be your own damn fault when someone kidnaps you.”

“Oh right.” You say standing up straight and alert. Jason rolls his eyes.

“We said when you’re alone.” “Right.” you say still alert.

“You don’t have to worry about it when you’re with me, you can space out whenever you want.”

“Oh? You gonna protect me Jay-bird?” 

Jason just smiles, not responding as he looks away from your face. 

“So, is Happy coming or what?” Peter asks rudely, taking you by surprise. He’s never talked to you like that before. 

“Um..yeah he’s on his way.” You respond, “ He should be here in a few minutes.”

Peter nods. Yet another uncomfortable silence falls on the group. 

You start walking to the entrance, and without a word the boys follow you. 

You don’t get it, first Peter ignores you all day and now he’s mad at you? What the hell is he playing at? 

“So I’m assuming you’re staying at the Tower?” You ask Jason, “ Your dad would be blowing up your phone if you weren’t.”

“I turned it off” Jason says with a smirk, “ I’m sure they’ll be alright.”

You laugh at his antics, knowing that he’s gonna get an earful when he gets back. Then. from the corner of your eye, you see Peter roll his eyes and glare at Jason.  Ugh, what a weird day.

Finally Happy, shows up. You pile into the car, a tight fit with all four of you, but you make it work. 

The tension in the car is so thick you can cut it with a knife. Happy doesn’t even make any comments, he just drives to Peter’s house to drop him and Ned off. As soon as he gets there, he jumps off the car as if something bit him. Going into the building without a goodbye. Ned just awkwardly smiles and says bye, then follows Peter into the apartment. 

“Okay...That was weird.” Happy says, “What happened? Usually the kid won’t shut up.”

“I have no idea. He’s just being a dick I guess.” You respond sourly. Looking out the window, signaling that you were done with the conversation. 

You finally get home, exhausted physically and emotionally. As you ride the elevator, you think about today's events. So much has happened today it makes your head spin. You were,’t even paying attention when you got to your floor, Jason having to nudge you to get you to move.

“Jason.”, you hear a deep voice rumble. You look up at the sound and giggle

“Looks like you’re in trouble Jay-bird.” “Shut up, please.” 

You laugh again, “It’s lovely to see you again Mr. Wayne, are you staying at the Tower tonight?”

“Hello Y/n” Bruce says, “ It seems so, seeing as my son has been missing all day and we’ve missed our check in time.” He glares at Jason. 

“Aw come on Bruce, we’ll all have a sleepover, bread each other’s hair and tell secrets” You dad says coming out of nowhere. He pecks the top of your head. 

“Hey kid, how was it?” 

“Ugh, don’t even get me started” You say rolling your eyes, “ How was the meeting?” 

“Ugh don’t even get me started.” Then he turned to Jason, “ Hey, didn’t know you were a fan.” 

You laugh, knowing he’s referring to the plush you won for him. “Where’s the rest of the boys?” 

“Damian fell asleep and Tim is in your fathers lab tinkering.” Bruce responds, “ I was about to head to bed.” 

“Oh me too, I’ve had quite the day.” You hug your dad, “ Night pops.” 

Then you turn to Jason, “ I had fun today Jay, thanks. Good night Mr. Wayne.” 

And with that, you walk off to your room, desperate to shower and sleep this day away. 

“So, care to explain why your phone was shut off?” 

Yikes, poor Jason.

[you-did-well-moon]

Werewolf!Yunho meeting his mate

Type: Werewolf au, angst, fluff

Pairing: Werewolf!Yunho x HumanFemale!reader

Word count:  2,994

A/n: I know this took a long time, trust me, it felt like a long time for me too. With how I view Yunho, I expected this to be happier than it is. I was having a hard time while writing this, and it reflected on the story. Anyways please enjoy and stay safe!

TW: toxic relationship, financial struggle, deadlines, stressed reader, emotional and verbal pain, toxic masculinity, if I missed anything please tell me.

You sat at the foot of your bed, still not made, staring at the mirror resting against your dull colored wall with lifeless blank eyes. Your posture slouched as you finished tying the laces of your running shoes huffing and letting your arms flop to the ground. Looking at the mirror, you tried smiling, but it was meak and disappeared as soon as it appeared. 

You hadn’t smiled a real smile in so long, you forgot what it felt like. To smile. To be happy. The forgotten emotion was one you took for granted when it was easy to to bask in the warmth of it. Now it's just cold. Cold and empty. 

You looked away from the mirror with a tight feeling coiling in the base of your chest not being able to bear looking at the stranger staring back at you any longer. Your gaze fell to the laptop, abandoned, due to frustration on your desk in the forgotten corner of the room. The thought of unfinished drafts and incomplete sentences shook violently in your mind. Disappointment in yourself pooling in your gut remembering your editor’s words. 

“If you can’t give us at least a first draft by the end of the month, we’ll have to unfortunately let you and your novel go.”

How pathetic was it that you couldn’t even come up with a simple sentence. A description, dialogue, a metaphor. Nothing. Anytime you sat yourself in front of the desk, your mind went blank. The cursor blinking at the top of the page mocked you with the possibility of millions of words. Not one ever made its way onto the page.  

The end of the month was in two weeks. 

You felt tears of hopelessness stinging the corner of your eyes, and you abruptly stood up grabbing your wireless earbuds, phone, and bag. Making your way into the kitchen you grabbed the water in the fridge and placed it inside your back, nothing but a numb feeling alienating you from reality and its broken expectations. You heard the front door of your little apartment open and slam close shaking the thin walls of the building. 

Your heart lurched as you winced immediately feeling like you were walking on eggshells. You were usually quick enough to leave before he got home from work, but you had been a tad bit late this one time. You gripped the strap of your bag tightly hoping for it to ground you through whatever vile words came from the one person you should have been able to trust with your ugliest feelings. 

Trying to walk past your boyfriend, eyes trained on the chipped wood of the front door did no good when he kissed his teeth and huffed as soon as he caught sight of you.

“You’re never home when I get home from work, and the one time you are here, you run away not even saying hi to me? Not even a “hey honey how was work today” or maybe a “hi love what would you like for dinner?” and never a “you’ve worked hard would you like a massage?” It's the same shit every day. You treat me like nothing when I'm the reason you even have a roof over your head woman.”

You kept your mouth the whole time he rambled on trying to ignore the clear stench of beer being able to reach you even with all the distance separating you, and the feeling of disgust mixed with desperation pooling at the bottom of your gut at yourself for not speaking up for yourself. Opening your mouth instead of letting your voice be taken from you. A long time ago, you would always say you would rather die than be without your voice. In a sense, you had died a long time ago. 

Around three months after you had started dating. That had been two years ago. 

Your English degree really did you no good. Not having enough time to be an intern in college really screwed you over when no job would take a bright eyed girl with the same passion in her heart for writing as a Karen’s passion for business that wasn’t hers, but with no experience. Even if the apartment was under your name, you’d probably be kicked out in weeks time.

You hated all of it. Everything that made up both the small and big parts of your life, you hated it. You hated his greasy hair and beady eyes, the nasty rough stubble covering the lower part of his face as a result of his laziness. You hated the hesitation in leaving him because of the fear of the stack of bills piling up next to the fridge. You hated the editors who couldn’t find it in some part of their greedy selves to extend your deadline. You hated the empty drafts sitting in your laptop collecting what could only be dead dreams and despair. You hated the cold emptiness that was always present in the confines of your chest. 

You recoiled at the way he said “woman” the same way someone would talk about a bug. Small and insignificant. Patronizing and confident in the worst way. You set your mouth in a tight line not even being able to look at him. Shifting your feet, you crossed your arms and looked up to the sky as if calling out to some unknown being to get you out of this pathetic corner you were trapped in. You cursed under your breath looking at the dying flowers on the coffee table with distaste as they wilted towards you mocking you. 

“What was that?” His voice got rougher with the menacing edge of fanned masculinity and control. Something that could put you in a dangerous place in a very fast amount of time. You looked at him with dull eyes poking your cheek with your tongue as a cold feeling settled in your gut. 

Your hands fell limply to your side and you chuckled humorlessly. 

“Fuck you”.

Those two words were enough to set him off as you slowly blinked and looked at the ground feeling your heart falter when he abruptly got up. You tried to stand your ground, but the surge of confidence was quickly withering away with fear taking its place. 

Ethan was bigger than you. Even if he wasn’t that much taller than you, there was a noticeable difference in his frame and yours. Weirdly enough, you didn’t regret your curse at him. The words still burned brilliantly on the tip of your tongue. 

It was bittersweet of course. His nose flared, and his eyes bulged as he took large strides over to you knocking the coffee table over on his path to you.

“What did you say to me you-” his words were said through gritted teeth, brash and loud in the silent apartment.

 Maybe he was bigger and stronger than you, but you were faster.

You inhaled sharply reacting fast as your hand reached behind you, turning the knob and slipping around it slamming the door close. Your bag bumped against your back while you bolted to the door with the word “stairs” painted in big bold letters across it. You were already at the door when you heard your apartment door open and Ethan angrily called your name. Threatening to break your laptop if you didn’t go back right this instant. 

You couldn’t help but snicker at the weak attempt. It’s not like there were much but empty pages anyways. 

A heavy feeling soon settled on your chest as you went down the stairs. Your apartment was on the 4th floor, and the stairs weren’t the most taken care of, but it’s not like you had much of a choice anyways. It seemed these days you were always wanting to run away from something. 

Your heart felt a little lighter when the warm rays of sun met your skin and the fresh air outside flooded your senses. Your walk to the park went as usual. Cars racing to get where they needed to, people chattered about everything and nothing, and your thoughts wandered to a world far away from this one. 

A world that wasn’t as dark as this one. At the same time your mind became your executioner, it became your safe place. The sick contrast making a nasty feeling flood your chest.

You arrived at the park with a small smile. The normalcy of the day bringing a little comfort to your still racing heart. Kids ran around, laughter ringing in the air around them as their parents watched on benches gossiping among themselves. People raced fast either by foot, bicycle, or skateboard, a visible sheen on their necks. You looked for the kind old man who always looked after your bag while you ran. 

He owned a music store a few blocks away, and he always sat on the bench closest to the pond with his cute corgi and habitually feeding the ducks peas and lettuce leaves when finished  with a certain chapter of his book. You walked up to him with a small smile as he looked up and took the sight of you in with fatherly worry.  

“You look a little pale kid, everything alright?” 

You did your best to liven up and gave your best customer service smile which the older man immediately saw through.

“Of course Mr.Jung. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m just a little tired from the editors. They’re on my back more than usual”, you laughed nervously as he hummed in understanding.

“I hope that boy of yours isn’t giving you any problems. Hey kid, have you ever heard of the term “break up?” he looked so serious you had to compose your shocked face. 

You waved your hands rapidly “I promise Mr.Jung everything is fine there is...I...oh my” you took a shaky breath as he simply shrugged his shoulders and pet his smaller companion who was having a very serious stare down with a duck. 

You wiped your sweaty palms on your yoga pants while you looked around at the tacky named paths trying to decide which one to run today. 

“The Pupper Runner path looks particularly nice today,” he suggested. You looked at the path pursing your lips in thought. The path wasn’t one you ran frequently. Since it was one of the wider and flatter paths, there were more people such as families or people walking their dogs. You also didn’t like having run-ins with the cyclists who were grouchier around this time of day for some odd reason.

After contemplating it, you shrugged and decided why not. Getting run over by a ticking time bomb on wheels wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen today. With a small smile sent in Mr.Jungs way, you checked your shoe laces before starting out with a light jog making your way down the specific path.

There was nothing really different about today’s run than others. Just having to dodge the wheel demons and kids happily running ahead of their worried mothers. You were grateful for the distraction. It kept you from straying too far into your head. It was just you running. Running like you always did these days, your shoes slapping on the concrete path and Got7 blaring in your ears. 

The heat of the sun shone on your skin, but oddly you still felt cold. It was always cold these days. A light breeze fresh to your burning skin as desperate eyes caught yours, and you were once again bought out of your stupor. 

A small boy was kneeled down fingers clutching his untied shoelaces not far from his dad who was trying to calm a crying baby. You didn’t really have a strong adoration for kids, but his panicked pinched face compelled you to come to a slow stop in front of him. Your chest heaved as you bent down to his level sitting on your heels and wrapped your arms around your legs.

“Hey bud, you need some help there?”

The kid made a distraught sound as he nodded his face shaking his hair out of his eyes. He looked dumb founded as he stared at his shoe laces in search of answers they would never give.

“Mama said to make a bunny, but this looks more like my aunt Carol’s dog” he sadly told you.

You snorted reaching out gently to tie his laces with a double knot.

With a grin you looked up at him ruffling his hair and giving him a thumbs up which he happily returned with a toothy smile.

“It’s alright kid, you’ll eventually get it. Just keep trying yeah? Don’t settle or you might catch yourself tripping next time you go on a walk. You’ll get hurt. Wouldn’t want that would we”, you said, lips still stretched kindly upwards, but something in your words struck stingingly deep in your chest. 

As the kid nodded happily with a carefree laugh you were about to get up when you heard the air being split and a strained voice yelling “watch out!!”. 

You looked up, panicked, only to see a frisbee racing right in your direction with alarming speed. With the goal of protecting the small child, you quickly turned your body. Your shoes making a rough sound against the concrete as a startled light cry left the younger boy’s mouth.

With your hands ready, you easily caught the frisbee gasping at the shock of the situation. You quickly shook it off as you gripped the frisbee turning back to the child who profusely thanked you, his small hands shaking as they clutched onto the hem of your shirt. 

You simply smiled reassuringly tapping his shoe and ushering him back to his father who has begun to successfully calm the fussing baby down. 

With shaking knees you tried to get up only to wince and slightly waver at the sharp sting that hit your ankle area. You clenched your jaw feeling more than annoyed at the current situation in hand. 

You stood up grumbling under your breath as a tall figure jogged over to you. While he made his way toward you, your narrowed eyes met his wide, apologetic ones. 

You felt the world shift around you as a calming warmth shot through your body melding with the confusion and panic pooling in your gut, and his eyes widened impossibly as he stumbled managing to stabilize himself right in time in front of you. His figure standing just inches away from you as his hands trembled, and his lips slightly parted.

You got a slight whiff of cologne and mint, but more than anything, the weird feeling in your gut was making a way for the dreadful panic clouding around your heart. 

You felt warm. 

After feelings of feeling nothing but the hollow cold licking at your veins, there was a nice warmth settling in your chest. 

You were scared of it. 

With a heavy chest you slightly inched back left somewhat immobile due to the aching pain in your ankle. “What the hell?”, you immediately set off on questioning him leading him to shake his head frantically at you. 

“I’m so sorry, i really am.” He put his hand on his chest as if trying to prove his sincerity to you, but you breathlessly took a step back stunned by the intense feelings taking over your heart and mind. 

You tried shaking it off, but the warmth lingered. 

You weren’t sure you wanted it to go away. 

“There’s kids here”, you were so distracted by all the emotions circling your mind you couldn’t possibly put any effort into arguing with the young man. His lips parted to make way for his lips as he nodded his head in understanding. “I know, I'll be more careful next time. I promise.”

Somehow, you knew he was being truthful. You went to say something, possibly something dangerous, but you shook your head and waved your hand. 

You tried taking a step but lightly hissed at the sharp pain that shot from your ankle up your leg. The man instantly dove forward steadying you with a heavy hand between your shoulder blades, and the other hovering in worry near your collarbone. 

With wide eyes you looked at him as he realized his un-asked for touch and immediately went to back away. 

He couldn’t.  

Your hand was clutching the cloth of his shirt near his shoulder blades. Hands slowly uncurling, you smiled awkwardly, but he kept his hand where it was. At his touch, the warmth licking the insides of your body became all the more distracting. 

“Um, I don’t think you can go all the way back home like this”, he cleared his throat looking at you shily under his bangs. Flustered, you smiled at the ground before looking back up and timidly asking “I can't. Mind helping me out?”.

At your question he let out a beaming grin nodding eagerly. He went to stand in front of you, and he crouched down looking at you over his shoulder with soft brown eyes. You did a small jump, and were caught by his hands slightly gripping under your thighs. 

He gave a low chuckle that somehow was felt from where your chest was pressed up against his shoulder blades. “So...what’s your name?”. You let a light giggle escape, “Y/n, yours?”. You saw his jaw move with the syllables of your name whispering it to himself. 

“Yunho”, you smiled also sounding out the name on your own mouth. You gave a shuddering exhale, and you laid your head on his shoulder letting yourself really rest for what seemed like the first time in forever. 

That night you walked right past Ethan who was quick to begin yelling at you, and you tucked yourself under the safety of your blankets feeling the warmth still encasing your heart, so comforting and alive.  

[cinnaminsvga]

by the way | jungkook

→ summary: there are only two weeks left until graduation—which means you only have two weeks left until you’ll be nothing more than a facebook birthday notification on his phone (unless you do something about it, of course.) → genre: high school!au, humor, slight angst → warnings: none unless you’re terrified of two idiots mutually pining for e/o → words: 1.2K → a/n: ain’t it kinda weird that there were some people you met in high school that you considered your “friend” but never kept in touch with them after graduation? like ships that have sailed past each other, only being left with some hope of crossing someday. idk, high school was weird. anyway, enjoy!

—part of the bgw drabble marathon (Tropes #5)—

“So, have you asked anyone out to the graduation ball yet?” Hoseok asks you suddenly, his words muffled by the disgusting amount of pasta in his mouth. 

From the corner of your eye, Jungkook’s shoulders tense. You don’t mean to notice—you weren’t even supposed to be looking at him. He has his gaze trained downwards, shooting lasers at his rice with enough intensity to cook it twice over. 

“No, I haven’t,” you respond eventually. 

“Time is running out you know! It wouldn’t look good if the class valedictorian arrived at the party without some good ol’ eye candy,” Hoseok says. 

You scoff, taking a sip of your lukewarm apple juice. “Who says I need a man to make me look good?”

“Or woman, for that matter!” Chaeyoung pipes up. She wiggles her eyebrows, leaning across the lunch table until her chest almost gets a platter full of greasy cafeteria pizza. “You know, the offer is still open. I guarantee that if we went together, we’d be the prettiest bitches in the entire ballroom!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re right, we would be… minus the fact that you’ve been pining over Eunbi for God knows how long, and it would be seriously shitty of me to deny you your last chance of getting together with her.”

Chaeyoung leans back, acquiesced. “Alright, you got me there,” she sighs, crossing her arms. “Still, you know I would drop everything and anything if you asked.”

“Not me though, I’m a selfish whore,” Jimin interrupts, reaching his minimum quota of giving his unsolicited opinion. He points finger guns at you. “I’m bringing my hot and sexy college boyfriend to the ball.”

“Oh right, how could we ever forget your mysterious ‘college’ boyfriend,” Hoseok scoffs, the quotation marks audible in his voice. “The one that we’ve never seen or heard of before, and also conveniently lives in a different city that is miles from here? That boyfriend?”

“Shut up!” Jimin glares, pointing his sharpened acrylic nail at him. “You’ll eat your words once you see how fucking gorgeous and hot and REAL my boyfriend is!” He turns to you, brows still quirked in irritation. “Anyway, as I was saying. Even though I’m going to the ball with my snookywookums, I’m willing to scout a date for you if you want.”

“I don’t think snookywookums is a Scrabble-verified word,” Hoseok says under his breath, nearly causing you to snort your pasta up your nose. 

“T-Thank you, Jimin,” you say, coughing through your laughter. Lucky for Hoseok, Jimin’s massive ego doubles as a noise-cancelling material. “But I’m fine, really. I’m more than happy just hanging out with my best friends over some random guy.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Chaeyoung coos, pinching your cheeks. 

“–and also improbable,” Hoseok snorts. “These two whores are definitely gonna spend that entire night fucking their dates,” Hoseok says, jabbing his thumb at your resident bimbo-himbo combo, “while I will be busy with DJ-ing at the event, so you’re pretty much outta luck, chief.”

“What the fuck? You’re gonna DJ at our fucking graduation ball?” you squawk. “Why the hell would you volunteer to do that?”

“For… experience?”

“Really.” 

Hoseok raises his hands in surrender with a pout. “Okay, fine. Maybe I wanted to impress Namjoon. Fucking sue me for being a hypocrite!” 

“Ahah! The ogre has fallen in love with the prince!” Jimin hollers, earning himself a pinch in the tit from Hoseok.

You huff, annoyed. “Am I really being abandoned by all my friends? On one of our final days together as classmates before we inevitably part ways towards adulthood?”

A beat of guilty silence. Then:

“Yep!

“Totally!”

“You guys suck!”

You groan in defeat, rolling your eyes. “Fine then! I guess Jungkook and I will have to entertain each other, right Kook?”

The boy in question, who had been eerily quiet this entire lunch period, jolts in his seat after suddenly being addressed. His elbow hits the table with a bang, causing an impressive string of expletives to spill from his mouth. 

Jimin snorts, amused. “Damn, you good? What’s got loverboy all jumpy?” 

“Don’t call me loverboy,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as he cradles his injured elbow. 

“Well someone clearly pissed in your Cheerios. What’s up? Why are you being all broody and sulky?” Hoseok asks.

“I’m not being broody,” Jungkook says broodily. For a brief moment, your gaze catches his, but he quickly averts his eyes before you can get a good glimpse at the unknown emotion that tints them. “I just… got a bad grade in Chemistry. That’s all.”

“First time? I guess senioritis doesn’t hit all of us the same,” Jimin sniffs. “By the way, Kook. Do you have a date for the ball? If you do, then we can all shame Y/N into looking for a date and not feel guilty about it.”

“Hey!” you whine, but your attention is focused on Jungkook. You hold your breath, a looming sense of dread rising up your stomach like bile. A desperate plea rings through your head, crying out, “Please say you’ll go with me.”

As friends, you remind yourself.

Sure Jan, your inner voice replies.

Jungkook barks out a laugh, but it sounds hollow. “I, umm…” he trails off, fidgeting in his seat awkwardly. He puts down his chopsticks, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans. “I’m still, uh, working up the courage to ask her…”

“HER?! YOU LIKE GIRLS?” Chaeyoung screams, horrified. “Then why the FUCK have you been rejecting all those poor girls for the past four years?”

“I just wasn’t interested, I guess,” he shrugs. He pauses. “Wait, did you not know I was straight?”

“Kookie, I don’t know if you haven’t noticed, but you recoil like a raccoon being spritzed with water every time a woman so much as looks at you,” Hoseok points out.

“I’m just shy,” he grumbles. 

To your left, Jimin nudges you gently. “Did you know?” he whispers, brows arched.

“Of course I did,” you snap. “That boy uses five-in-one shampoo and soap.”

Jimin leans back into his seat, a mystified expression on his face. “Damn, you’re right. And here I thought you just liked pining over him because you were a masochist.”

You choke on your own spit, feeling as though a large stone has just been dropped on your esophagus. You whirl towards Jimin with a death glare, but the shithead barely flinches in response. “What the fuck did you just say?” you seethe, panic clear in your voice.

“What did you say?” Jungkook repeats after you, jaw agape. You both make eye contact, and you notice the way Jungkook’s cheeks have flushed a deep red. You have no doubt in your mind that you aren’t faring any better. Shit!

“Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that,” Hoseok interrupts. He gestures to the clock by the wall, which shows that your lunch period is about to end. He slams his lunch container shut, a large smirk on his face. “But this will definitely be a fun conversation for later, and I want front row seats.”

“Ditto! Text me once you’re out of your last class, okay?” Chaeyoung says, standing up with Hoseok. She blows a kiss your way and pats Jungkook endearingly on the head. “You guys have English together, right? Should be fun!”

“Gotta blast,” Jimin says, scrambling out of his seat before you can snap out of your daze long enough to twist his balls into a ponytail. He throws a mock salute at you, toothy grin on full display. “Have fun!”

Now left alone (i.e. abandoned) by your friends, you tentatively turn to look at Jungkook. You swallow thickly, cheeks flamin’ hot. “So, by the way…. About that date?”

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 5 - Accidental Confession / In Vino Veritas (Drunk Confession/Drunk Dial)

Unrequited love? Bite me

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x GN!Reader

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Rating: Teen and up

TW: Drinking/alcohol, language, vampirism/blood mentions, FWB mention

AN: Day 5 of @tropetember. Not my best work but hope you enjoy. Might rework this slightly at a later point.

A visit to the Salvatores in Mystic Falls should be pretty fun, until Damon decides to drag you to a party the Originals are throwing.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.5k

“Damon, you cannot be serious.”

Your best friend just gives you puppy dog eyes. Bright blue and sad as can be. It’s kinda pathetic.

“Pretty please.”

You huff, knowing you won’t win this argument. You’ve known him since you were both children, through him being turned by Katherine and later Stefan turning you (long story), and then on and off in the intervening century and a half. You even had a casual friends with benefits arrangement when you were both lonely/bored. Knowing him so well, you decide to save everyone the time and give in.

“You’re paying for my outfit Damon! I can not believe you’re making me go…”

He scoops you up and spins you, making you squeal as he thanks you. Stefan, who has been observing from the couch being absolutely no help, just laughs.

“You won’t regret it. It’ll be fun and we can learn some things at the same time. We’ll be the most attractive spy duo in history.”

You just roll your eyes and go to grab your keys before stealing Damon’s wallet. If you’re going to have to face the Mikaelsons again, you weren’t doing it in something you’d worn before. And you were going to buy something expensive out of spite.

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

The entrance to the Mikaelson’s house was the same as any other house in Mystic Falls: opulent, excessive and with far too much marble. You’d take a cosy cabin over this nonsense any day.

Clinging to Damon's arm, you enter the space and, thankfully, Klaus is the only one of the family greeting guests.

“Darling, it’s been a while.” You can’t help the reactionary smile as you embrace him. He could be bat shit crazy at times, but he’d always been kind to you.

“Klaus! I’ve missed you.” Out of your eye corner, you can see Damon giving you both evil eyes. Had you accidentally on purpose forgotten to mention you knew the original family? Oops, your bad.

Klaus doesn’t let you go far, holding you at arms length to admire your new outfit. You do look stunning in it, if you do say yourself.

“Beautiful.” He leans in to whisper in your ear “My brother really doesn’t realise what he’s missing.”

You laugh him off, ignoring the implication. You knew better.

“Now boys,” you say, glancing between them, “I’ll have no part in whatever this little competition or measuring contest is, and I expect you all to leave me out of it.” They both look a little guilty as they nod. “Marvellous. If you need me, I’ll be somewhere out of the way with a glass of champagne.”

And with that you head further into the party, leaving them to bicker.

-----

"Urgh, I've missed you so much! I can't believe you left us."

You and Rebekah are both waaaay too many glasses of champagne deep at this point. You’d been there a couple of hours by now and it had only taken Rebekah 30mins to realise you were there and take you hostage. You're currently sequestered on a sofa in a corner and are both a bit sloppy.

"What do you want me to say Bekah? It's your arsehole brother's fault."

"Wait, what? What did Klaus do?"

You laugh, just a tad hysterically and fortify yourself with another sip out of your glass.

"Wrong one. Go older"

A look of understanding comes across her face and she wraps an arm around you. You, sadly, don't have enough of your wits about you to realise that this isn't the best place for a drunken heart to heart.

Everything starts to spill out of you. How you and Elijah had spent so much time together. How you thought he liked you back, only for him to turn up with what's her name wrapped around him. How he'd laughed when you'd expressed your surprise that he was dating, and how it made you feel like nothing. It was too much for your heart to handle. So you’d left, had a fun rebound weekend with Damon and tried to move on.

Rebekah pulls back slightly, wiping a tear that had escaped without your permission.

"You're too good for him anyway," she says and you laugh.

"I wish that were true.” You pull yourself together a little and put on your best fake smile. “For now, I'm just going to don an air of indifference and pretend I'm not in love with your oldest brother."

Your mirth leaves you instantly as you hear a refined voice behind you ask, "now why on Earth would you do that?"

It’s amazing how panic can sober you up.

You turn slowly and meet the eyes of the oldest Original. He’s in a suit, as always, and has a confident smirk plastered across his face. That pisses you off.

“Cos he’s an asshole” you coolly reply before turning to Rebekah, pressing a kiss to her cheek and walking swiftly out of the room to find Damon to take you home. You’d embarrassed yourself quite enough for one night.

You’d never admit that you were disappointed that Elijah didn’t try to stop you.

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

One of the advantages to being a vampire was that you very rarely got a hangover. Instead, you just slept in a little, made a cup of coffee and did some yoga before heading out to treat yourself to lunch. You didn’t need to eat but you enjoyed the taste, there was much more variety in food than blood.

You'd only arrived in Mystic Falls a couple of days ago for your visit to see the Salvatore brothers and as such hadn't had a chance to try out the Mystic Grill. This seemed like a perfect fit opportunity. Something greasy would be perfect right about now.

The grill was a bit dingy but it worked for the place and you were happy to learn that they have a pretty good menu selection. Your excitement was soured though when Elijah decided to join you for lunch.

Dressed in yet another suit, no tie and the top buttons of his shirt undone, he oozes charm and money. Add in the handsome features and knockout smile and you were lost. You're sure back in the day the ladies with delicate constitutions had to keep their smelling salts close. You could easily have fainted over him.

But he wasn't interested in you, as he had made very clear, so you were just annoyed that he was existing in your space.

Elijah watched you eat for a few moments, clearly taking note of your reluctance to acknowledge him.

"For someone who's in love with me, you don't seem particularly happy to see me darling."

You groan quietly and lower your utensils. Wishing him away wasn't working.

"What do you want Elijah?" You sound bitter, even to your own ears. So much for attempting to sound neutral.

"One of my favourite people, who I haven't seen for a long time, has reappeared and I want to spend time with them. Is that too much to ask?"

You start eating again, using it to buy time. You had honestly missed his company. You just weren’t sure if you could bear him breaking your heart again, even accidentally and unintentionally. Luckily, he had more to say.

“Klaus told me off after you left, you know?”

You look at him in surprise.

“Told me that I’d wasted my best opportunity at happiness. Which is especially concerning considering who it was coming from.”

You nod your agreement. Klaus wasn’t exactly known for his sentimentality.

He continues, “would you believe that I really thought you were too good for me? That I really thought you weren’t interested?”

“Elijah, you can not be serious.” You pull a face at him. “I literally spent all of my time with you, hanging on your every word. I would have followed you to the ends of the Earth. How could you not have known?”

“I just thought you were being your usual effervescent self. I started dating again to try and let you go.”

Miscommunication. You shake your head. 30 years of heartbreak all because of miscommunication. God, you could bang the pair of your heads together. It’s basically a crappy romance novel. Ok, this is ok. You can fix this. You have pretty much forever left, after all.

Taking the initiative, you lean forward and grasp Elijah’s hand. His eyes fall to where you wrap your fingers around his. A hopeful look takes over his face as he returns to your eyes.

“Elijah?” You smile. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

He laughs. It’s a beautiful sound. You’re going to make it your personal mission to make him do it more often.

Lifting your knuckles to his lips, he places a gentle kiss on them.

“I can think of nothing else I’d rather do.”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft p.3

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though)

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took to publish! Work and school have been CRAZY!

Citation: (This is absolutely cited incorrectly but the poem included was found at this link!) https://rememberingthesixties.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/love-poems

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1  Part 2

_________________________________

“No! No! No! I ain’t got time for this today!” You groaned, twisting your key in the ignition only to hear the engine struggle to turn over. You were already running late to work, thanks to you misplacing your shoes, purse, and keys all on the same morning. When it was really only just you, your dad, and Arvin living in your home, it was ridiculous to be losing things as often as you did. It’s not like they were touching them. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was some gremlin that lived in the linen closet and hid your things to make life more difficult.

Of course, your car wouldn’t work either. What a fantastic beginning to the day.

You weren’t even sure what could be wrong with the car. It had worked just fine yesterday. There was no reason for it to suddenly fall apart on you. But alas, after several minutes of trying to start the car and checking what basic things you knew about under the hood to no avail, you gave out a groan of anger, “Damnit!”

With an angry kick of your old tire, you stomped back into the house. “Everythin' okay?” Arvin asked from the dining room table, where he sat eating a plate of toast and eggs.

“I was already running late this morning and now my stupid car won’t start,” you grumbled, throwing your purse onto the open chair and taking the phone off the receiver on the wall with more aggression than you intended. You were spinning the dial and putting in the phone number to the diner you worked at.

Arvin leaned forward in his seat, “I can take a look at it for you, if you’d like.”

“That would be great if you’re willing to but-” You began to answer but you stopped abruptly and held up a finger to him when a voice answered on the phone.

“Molly’s Diner. How can I help ya?” A woman’s voice that you recognized as your coworker Charlene asked from the other side.

“Hey, Charlene?” You asked, shooting Arvin an apologetic look for the sudden interruption. She sounded surprised to hear your greeting on the other end.

“Where you at, girl?” She questioned, the ambient wound of the busy diner in the background.

You leaned against the wall, gripping the phone with both hands, “I know I’m late! I’m sorry! My car broke down and I don’t think I can make it-”

“I can give you a ride if you need.” Arvin offered quiet enough for Charlene to not hear him on the other end but you perked up.

“Wait, hang on-” You interrupted Charlene just as she began to respond, “I can actually get a ride in.” You mouthed a sincere thank you to Arvin while holding onto the phone with both hands, feeling a slight glimmer of hope in your otherwise crappy day.

“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. You’re already so late just take the day off and get your car fixed. Just be here tomorrow, alright?” You could almost hear the way Charlene’s hand was waving dismissively from the other end of the phone.

You sighed in relief, “Thank you so much. I’ll make it up to you!” After a few brief goodbyes, you hung the phone up on the receiver.

Arvin stood up and placed his plate in the sink, “So are you needin’ a ride to work?”

You shook your head, “No, Charlene said to just take the day off ‘n get the car fixed. Thank you, though. It really is sweet of you to offer.”

Arvin only shrugged, “C’mon, after all you done for me, givin’ you a ride into town really ain’t much at all. I’d still be more than happy to take a look under your hood if you’d like.”

You blushed and tried to suppress the immature giggles that threatened to slip out at the way he worded his offer. His face visibly paled and began to stumble over his words, “‘m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that! I didn’t mean take a look under your… erm. I ain’t too good with my words sometimes. Forgive me.”

You laughed outright now, stepping forward and trying to pull his nervously fidgeting arms down, “It’s okay! You’re fine! You’re fine! I would love it if you looked under my hood.” You teased, overexaggerating the way you emphasized his words, throwing them back at him.

He rolled his eyes at you, an embarrassed smile pulling the corner of his lips upwards, before looking back down at you. It was then that you realized just how close you and Arvin were, your fingers still loosely touching his forearms where they had fallen. You looked up into his eyes - those soulful brown eyes - and found yourself wanting to know everything that they’d seen.

That familiar heat rose to your cheeks and you pulled your hands back, running them up and down the white apron you wore over teal uniform, “Well, um, I’m gonna go get changed outta this if I ain’t gotta wear it for work and then I can help you out with the car?”

Arvin’s hands found their way to his pockets and he nodded in understanding.

You had changed into a pair of jeans with a buttoned up blouse before jogging out front to find Arvin already bent over the exposed inner workings of your car. “How’s it lookin’?” You asked, slowing to a pace until you reached the car. You landed beside him, hands falling on the dirty metal as you leaned over to see the mechanics. He fiddled with a few things here and there, things that you didn’t quite understand. You were good with the basics of fixing your car. You could change the oil and fix a flat but when it came to the more complicated stuff, you were a little less well-versed.

He leaned back and wiped his greasy hands on each other, “I think I have the problem pinpointed. ‘M gonna need to head into town and get a part but it’s not a hard fix at all.”

“Thank you so much for doin’ this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You took a few steps back as Arvin lowered the hood, letting it fall the last few inches with a heavy thud.

“Yeah, well I’m happy I can finally be some help ‘round here to you.”

You rolled your eyes, following Arvin back to the house, “Please, you are plenty of help ‘round here. More help than I’ve gotten in years.”

Arvin gave you a knowing tight-lipped smile and nodded once the two of you made it through the front door. He didn’t say anything for a moment but there was a silent understanding. “You need anything while I’m out?” He asked, changing the subject.

You shook your head, “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”

It was rare that you actually had time to yourself. While Arvin was gone, you found yourself wandering around confused for a short while until the buzzing silence wore on your ears. You sat on the couch and pulled the radio over closer to you on the coffee table, looking over your shoulder as if someone would catch you at any moment.

This was one of your secrets that you held close to you, knowing your father would make fun of you if he ever found out. Moon River had been a favorite radio program of yours since you discovered it while tuning through the stations a year back. It was full of romantic poetry and slow beautiful music. Everything you dreamt about but knew you could never have, not while you were stuck here at least. But a girl could dream.

“Tonight’s love poem is written by Betty Hayes Albright. We hope you enjoy.

They tell me not to write of love

but what else can I write –

when love is in my heart and soul

and mind both day and night?

“You’re just too young and you can’t know

of love,” (does anyone?)

“you can’t profess such knowledge –

stick to verse and pun.”

.

They tell me that, and say love poems

are worn out through and through

but I can’t agree with them,

for me love is brand new.

Feelings in me can’t stay down,

my love for him I can’t ignore,

somehow it’s got to be expressed,

“I’ve got no lock upon my door.”

.

To those who stick to subjects

of the sky and stars, of joy and pain

I write my poems of love because

my heart’s love-blood shall never drain.

Perhaps they too shall love again.”

You sighed as it came to an end and you couldn’t help but see Arvin’s face in your mind’s eye. Love had always felt like something you could only dream of. It was a “one day when I get out of here” thought, not something you saw yourself obtaining for a long time, if ever. Now with Arvin… well you weren’t sure if you could call it love but it sure as hell was the closest thing to it you’d experienced.

Since the words were spoken, they kept swirling around your head: “When love is in my heart and soul; and mind both day and night.” Since his arrival two months ago, Arvin had been that very subject on your mind almost constantly. He was the first face you hoped to see every morning and the last one you wanted to see before bed. Your entire mood lit up every time he walked into the room, even when you were stressed from work or your father. It hadn’t been hard for you to realize that he became the lighthouse in the rocky ocean, promising solace and providing light in the storm that could be your life at times. It was hard to not fall for that.

"Never heard that one before." You whipped around in a panicked start to see Arvin standing in the foyer. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ears, "No, no, you're fine. You read a lot of poetry?" You watched Arvin shake his head and walk into the room. He stopped on the other side of the couch and you climbed up, placing your knees on the cushions and leaning over the back of the couch to look up at him.

"I don't like poetry all that much, at least the ones we read in high school… but I like that one." He looked down at where his hand gripped the back of the couch and his weight shifted on his feet.

Your eyes fell to his hands in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up on your cheeks that really had no place being there. "Yeah… me too. It reminds me that there is real love out there in the world."

A silence settled over the room as your eyes anxiously dragged up Arvin’s body till they settled on his eyes but you found yourself unable to hold his gaze. "I, erm, I got the part I need for your car." He took a step back and lifted the hand that wasn't on the couch, tossing the metal mechanism in his hand.

"Oh," you pressed yourself away from the couch and moved back to stand, "thank you for runnin’ all the way out into town."

He gave you a small smile and a nod, “It’s my pleasure. I’m gonna go see if this fixes the problem.”

***

"That should be it," Arvin slammed the hood back down and wiped his hands on his jeans. "We should take her for a drive to see if she's runnin' alright now."

You nodded, "Alright. Hop in." You took the keys from your pocket and gestured to the passenger seat. Arvin climbed in and you slid into the driver's seat, turning the key. This time, the engine started up without a problem. A big smile spread across your face, "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"

Arvin shook his head, "I ain't no miracle worker. Just good with fixin' things I s'pose."

Your feet were on the brake and the clutch when you shifted into first gear and began to peel out down the long dirt driveway. You stopped at the road and looked both ways, trying to decide which way to go. You looked to your right, the road into town, and then to the left, the way to that field that was oh so special to you. You began to gnaw at your lower lip.

Did you want to show Arvin? That little clearing by the creek had been your secret getaway since you’d discovered it three years ago. You never told anybody about it and you’d never seen anyone else there when you went so, as far as you were concerned, it was yours. Your special hide away, your paradise, your escape. But since his arrival, Arvin had become just that as well.

“You alright?” He questioned, looking over at you with a vaguely concerned expression.

You looked over at him, a nervous twist to your lips, “Can I show you somewhere special?” Perhaps it was an odd question to ask, though you hadn’t thought it was until you saw the curious and somewhat confused look dawn on Arvin’s face. Nevertheless, he nodded and, with a smile, you turned left towards the field.

It was a short but otherwise successful, trouble-free drive. You slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road into the dirt shoulder. “Where are we?” Arvin asked, looking around and seeing nothing but tall grass and trees.

With an impish smile, you turned off the ignition and looked towards him, “You’ll see. C’mon!” You threw your door open and walked around the front of the car towards the passenger’s side, hanging on the passenger door when Arvin finally opened the door to exit the vehicle.

He followed you to the edge of the brush where you walked as if you knew it like home. With minimal effort, you found the overgrown path and pulled him along behind you. The road disappeared behind the two of you as you wandered beyond the tree line, tall birch trees creating a maze that you knew by heart. The path was short and you navigated it with a sixth sense until you led Arvin to a small field. There was an imperfect circle of wild grasses beside a stream that seemingly appeared from nowhere but you knew it was that time of year when the snow started melting off the mountains. Bundles of wildflowers grew mixed in the grass. Just along the bank of the crystal clear creek water was a large dogwood tree with vibrant white flowers.

“Wow…” Arvin breathed out in amazement as he tried to take in the beauty of the place.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” You asked with a smile, the wonder in his brown eyes warming your heart. You were glad that he seemed to appreciate it as much as you did.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as your heart welled with happiness at his stunned reaction. He stepped in a slow circle, taking in the beautiful scenery. “It’s beautiful.”

“This is sorta my… escape from reality, I guess you could call it. I come here and I’m suddenly in a different world away from all the bullshit of life.” You reached down to run your fingers through the soft blades of grass. Arvin smirked and you looked up at him with a short breathy laugh, “What?”

He shook his head and looked down, hands buried in his pockets as always, “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you curse.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t do it very often. My daddy would always yell at me tellin’ me how un-ladylike it was to say bad words. Told me it made me sound ugly. I think his exact words were ‘a dirty mouth makes a dirty woman.’” Your voice dropped to mock your father.

Arvin spoke plainly, “Your pa needs to treat you better.”

You gave him a sad knowing smile and looked down at the ground, “It wasn’t always like this, y’know? I think that’s the saddest part.”

“What you mean?” Arvin asked.

You sat down on the grass, feeling the soft blades press against your skin as you sat back on your hands. Arvin followed suit, finding a comfortable spot beside you and waiting for you to continue. “When my momma was alive, he hardly ever drank. Wasn’t nothing like he is now. I think that’s the only reason I’ve put up with as much as I have. I hate seeing this miserable shell of the man I once knew but I also know that a real father wouldn’t have let himself fall into this pit - or at least stay down there long enough to practically leave his daughter to fend for herself. I just always hoped that maybe one day he’d pull through and… y’know… be my dad again.”

You laid back on the ground and stared up at the sky. The clouds passed by, white and weightless, pure and unaffected by the troubles of this world. You envied them. The way they floated along, either bringing shade and beauty to the sky or raging unapologetic storms, with no constraints as to where they could float and how they could behave… it made you wish you could be a cloud.

Arvin was silent, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to offer words of support and encouragement but he never had been too good with words. He hadn’t really been taught to talk about problems. His daddy had taught him to finish them with his fists. Finally, he sighed, looking out across the field, “I understand. I felt the same way ‘bout my daddy.”

You perched up on your elbows, “Really?”

He nodded and looked down at his leg, which he was slowly rolling side to side just to keep fidgeting in some way, “Yeah… he, uh, he changed into a totally different man after my mama died.”

You looked up at him but you could see he was trying to avoid your eyes. You rested a gentle hand on his knee, “‘M sorry, Arvin. I had no idea.”

He shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. It’s been a long time.”

“D-do you mind if I ask what happened?” You cautiously inquired but quickly added, “Of course, it’s fine if not. You just… you don’t talk much ‘bout yourself.”

Arvin took a deep breath in, “My mama died when I was ‘bout ten. Cancer took her. My daddy tried everythin’ to keep her alive but when it didn’t work… he killed ‘imself too.”

This time you were unsure of how to respond, stunned by the new information you’d just learned. “I-I’m so sorry,” you breathed out in disbelief. For some reason, you had never thought that perhaps Arvin could have had a similar childhood experience to you, like losing your mothers, but your heart went out to him.

“It took a long time for me to understand why he did what he did but I finally realized that he just loved my mama so much that he couldn’t bear to be away from her.”

“He should’ve loved you enough to stay for you.” Before you could stop yourself, the stunning but honest words slipped from your lips. You damn near stopped breathing when you realized what you said, “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright.” Arvin had been stunned by the words that came out of your mouth but he knew damn well they were only a vocalization of a thought he had had almost every day since the day his father put a bullet in his head. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t thought the same thing before.”

A heavy silence weighed over the two of you that was only relieved by a cool breeze. “So what happened to your mama?” Arvin asked.

Your face twisted, “Labor complications. She was pregnant with my little sister. When she went into labor, things just went really wrong. She lost too much blood ‘n died. The baby died too. I think it was just too much loss at once for my daddy to handle.”

“That’s too much loss to make a child deal with on her own,” Arvin commented the same way you had earlier.

You shrugged, wavering your head from side to side. Like he’d said, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same thought. “Looks like we got a lot in common.” You chuckled sadly, “I feel like I lost everyone who ever loved me. My mom, my sister, my grandparents, my dad...” Another silence settled and you waved the thought away, pushing yourself to sit up, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to make this all sad.”

Arvin shook his head, “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for.” He paused, hesitant to continue. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what happened back in Coal Creek and Knockemstiff but something was strongly compelling him to. Maybe it was a bad idea to continue but he did, “I had a sister once too.”

Your mouth fell slightly in surprise and you let out a heavy breath, “You did?” The use of the words had and did instead are have and do were not lost on you and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

Arvin swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah… she, uh, she got into some trouble with this no good preacher that came into town. She was just so lonely, reminds me a lot o' you, but when he saw that and he took advantage of her. Took everythin’ he wanted and when she got into trouble he just told her she was crazy.” He paused for a moment, the memories of his sister flowing through his head, “Found her hangin’ in the shed.”

You were dumbfounded by the story you’d just been told. Anger and sadness were clear in Arvin’s voice despite his attempt to hold on, though you had a feeling that just the way he had been telling you about it meant that he had shared more of himself than he ever intended to . You struggled to wrap your brain around the tragedy he had just shared. “What’s her name?” You finally asked after a few moments of silence.

Arvin looked out across the field again and then back at you, “Lenora.”

“Lenora,” you repeated, “That’s a pretty name.” Arvin only nodded wordlessly. Again, another pause before you continued, “You said it was some preacher that got her in trouble? What happened with that? I mean, you knew? Didn’t anyone else? Is he in jail or somethin’?”

The man tensed up next to you and shot a look towards you that was sharper than one he’d ever given you before. You shrank back ever so slightly, taken off guard by his response to your seemingly simple question. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”

“Ain’t nobody woulda believed my Lenora if she told ‘em. You know how people see women who got babies ‘n no husband. Especially since he was the preacher…” he trailed off and you were desperate to see the memories that played behind his big brown eyes, “He ain’t gonna hurt nobody no more.”

Your brows knitted together, trying to decipher what that meant. Did he go to jail? Was he fired? Was his reputation ruined? You prayed whatever justice he got was fit for something so atrocious.

"I'm sorry you lost your sister."

"I'm sorry you lost yours too."

After a long silence, Arvin laid back beside you, his body grazing your arm as he lowered himself. The two of you rested beside each other in this new understanding of each other. As you struggled to keep your attention on the sky, your eyes frequently straying from the vast blue expanse overhead to the beautiful man to your right, you couldn't help but wonder if by some insane fantasy maybe he'd be struggling to keep his eyes off of you in the same way.

"Let's talk about somethin' less depressing," you prompted, "How 'bout girlfriends? You ever had one of those?"

Arvin’s chest rose and fell heavily as he sighed, "I ain't never had much time for a girlfriend. Didn't much like anybody in my hometown anyways. Don't think nobody liked me much neither."

You rolled your eyes and audibly scoffed, "I find it hard to believe you didn't have girls bangin' down your door for a date. You're tellin' me you ain't never went out on a single date?"

He shook his head, "Nope. I mean I kissed a girl or two back when I was younger but I never had no time for datin'. Always workin' or helpin' my grandma or keepin' Lenora safe."

You rolled over onto your side and looked down at him curiously, "Where you from anyways?"

Arvin was hesitant to answer, you could see it plain as day, though you couldn't figure why. Finally, he answered, "Lived with my mama and daddy in Knockemstiff but moved to Coal Creek with my grandma after they died."

Mentally, you wracked your mental map for any memory of those towns but found none. "I don't think I ever heard of those," you commented, lying back down.

Arvin stretched his arm up and readjusted his cap, "Not many people have unless you're from near there. Just some small towns you'd drive right through and never even notice. Knockemstiff is near Meade, Ohio."

"Oh!" You exclaimed in realization, "I heard of that one!" You giggled. You didn't live anywhere near there but you'd heard the name at least from a friend whose family was from Meade.

"What about you?" He asked.

You began tracing light patterns on your stomach with your finger, "What about me? You know where I'm from."

"You ever had a boyfriend?"

You kept your eyes staring straight up. “I tried datin’ a few boys back in high school but nothing too serious. They didn’t seem to like me much,” you admitted with a shrug. At the time, it had bothered you a little that you seemed to have a hard time finding a boyfriend but now you saw that it was better this way. Younger you had spent night after night praying for a knight in shining armor that would come and whisk you away to some beautiful new life. All they had done was run for the hills because they didn’t want to deal with your daddy… not that you could blame them. You’d learned not to depend on anybody for anything, certainly not some boy to make your life better. You’d have to do that yourself.

“I think it would be impossible for somebody not to like you.” Arvin said quietly but with no ounce of dishonesty.

You rolled your eyes and rolled over to look at him, “Your just sayin’ that.” Despite the fact you swore to yourself he was only joking, blood rushed to your cheeks.

Arvin’s head turned in the crook of his arm to make eye contact with you, “I like you.”

The sweetly joking smile you had on your face fell in shock. “W-what?” You stuttered less than gracefully.

“I mean it. I like you… a lot.” After your pause, his heart fell but he didn’t need you knowing that, “You ain’t gotta say it back.”

“I like you too,” you admitted quickly before Arvin could continue to doubt himself anymore but when you looked over at him, you could see that momentary flash of doubt in his eyes. You could almost hear his thoughts behind those big brown orbs: Nah, you’re just sayin’ that. So you decided to beat him to it, “I really do.”

A warm breeze couldn’t dispel the thickness that had been created in the air between you two as you both looked at each other, trying to decipher what the other was thinking and what on Earth you were supposed to do next. Neither of you were well experienced when it came to love or romance or whatnot but experience wasn’t needed to feel some higher power, call it God or the universe, pulling the two of you together.

You weren’t quite sure when you and Arvin had started to inch your lips closer to each others’ but when they finally met in a gentle experimental kiss, it was as if fireworks had gone off. Your heart swelled with an emotion that could only be described as longing. Breathing stopped as if the feather-light touch of his lips on yours had knocked the air out of your lungs and you found yourself unable to catch it.

Both you and Arvin were hesitant to pull back and neither of you did until there was no air left in your lungs. It was one of those kisses that left you less. Breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Just less. And yet somehow more. A part of you that you had denied being empty for so long felt like it was now filled by Arvin and, perhaps that was too much credit to give for simply saying he liked you and sharing a mindblowing kiss with you, but damn.

“I-I-I uh…” You tried to stammer out something that would be fitting but there were no words.

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’.” Arvin reached over and gently brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “But I’ll be damned if I let you go without tellin’ you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You reached up and covered his large hand with your own, twisting your wrist so that your fingers would interlock with his, “Who ever said you gotta let me go?

__________________

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Deceivers Ch. 4 - Flit

Word Count: 3748

Chapter 3 - Noble

Chapter 5 - Pirates

One week had passed since the world noble Charlos bought you at the auction house. After the branding, the guards had put you into skimpy lace underwear that barely covered your nipples and ass. You had felt slight relieve when they brought out a piece of fabric to put around your waist, but it was completely see-through and therefore, useless. The exploding collar was still in its place and Charlos added a leash to it.

You would walk behind him with another woman next to you, whom you weren't allowed to speak to. He pulled you through the streets and alleys of Sabaody, the eyes of the people in town made you uncomfortable, their gazes lingering on your exposed body.

It was so utterly embarrassing and degrading. From time to time, you would feel tugs in your chest, but you managed not to cry. Tears meant him kicking or punching you in front of all these people, and that somehow embarrassed you more than being half naked.

Some looked at you with pity, some shady men enjoyed your private parts almost spilling out, but most people just looked away. You were walking with a world noble after all, and they probably didn't want to die. He was usually riding on the back of another slave, and although you were in the same predicament as him, your heart hurt every time he trembled under Charlos' weight. But how could you help him if you couldn't even help yourself?

Every time you spoke without being asked, he gave you a hard back handed slap and if he felt particularly angry, he kicked you until you fell to the ground. The first few days this hadn't stopped you from annoying him on purpose, but the bruises piled up and soon you felt a stinging sensation in your ribs while breathing. The branding on your back healed quite well, although whenever you saw it in a mirror you cringed. They called it "the hoof of the flying dragon", which would be a beautiful name if it didn't have such a horrid back story.

Death, either yours or his, became an option you considered every time "Saint" Charlos groped your ass or fondled with your breasts. The thoughts you had about him grew more and more violent each day. You just wanted to hurt him.

The worst day so far was today. He wanted to eat dinner at a very fancy restaurant, and you stood next to him while he ate, making disgusting smacking and slurping sounds and laughing about "peasants" with his father and sister, who you despised as soon as you met them.

"Dear son", Rosward whistled, "you must give wife 14 the infertility shot as soon as we are home. It would be a shame if our blood were tainted with an improper heir due to your activities."

Your eyes widened as he mentioned infertility shots and the "activities", but you didn't dare to speak. Actually, thinking about it, it didn't really surprise you that much. He gave you the name wife 14, and he most definitely doesn't just display his wives somewhere just to look at them. His intentions were clear as glass.

"It will be so much fun, wife 14! I will get good use out of you", Charlos cheered while grabbing a handful of your exposed ass, making you flinch. You just wanted to smash his head into the plate of food.

"I know a good doctor, brother. If she wears out, he can stitch her back up, my friend said his mistresses were just like new", Shalria giggled behind her hand and Charlos formed his mouth into an o-shape. The fact that they spoke so freely about these things as a family, while normal families talked about their kids' school days or something, made you shiver in fear of what he was ready to do in private.

Her mentioning stitching you up sounded so nonchalant, while this practice was nothing else than disgusting. Some of your medicine books mentioned it, but it was a really old tradition that was actually forbidden by the world government. And here were the world nobles, completely ignoring rules that applied to everyone else (and for a good reason that was).

Jeany was right and all your life, you had blindly believed all these great and noble things you learned about the government and the world nobles.

How could I have been this stupid..., you thought and lowered your head. Small tears were forming in the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away before anyone could see them.

If you had told your past self about the life, you had now you would have laughed. It was kind of ridiculous. Suddenly, something dawned you: You definitely had to flee, but time was running out. As soon as Charlos took you to Mary Geoise it was over, there was no way to get away from there. Your escape had to happen on Sabaody, basically the sooner the better.

Carefully, you eyed your surroundings in the restaurant. It was a fancy place, white furniture and walls with floor length windows. All the waiters were dressed in suits and had impeccable posture, carrying shiny silver plates with dish covers.

According to their status, the world nobles were seated on an open landing above the other guests. A flight of stairs led to the ground floor, with the kitchen on the left. Waiters scurried in and out of the room, trying their best to satisfy the demanding customers.

The world noble's table was the only one on the landing. It looked very expensive, clad in a white satin tablecloth reaching the floor. They sat on comfy chairs that matched the table.

Charlos' disgusting smacking and slurping never left your ears and it was becoming unbearable. Neither him, nor his father and sister were paying you any attention while they indulged on their food. You would expect table manners from someone like them, but they just looked like hungry pigs.

You frowned and carefully glanced at Charlos' other wife next to you. When she looked back, you motioned towards the stairs with your eyes. She widened her eyes in shock and shook her head, telling you to stop having crazy ideas.

If you were honest to yourself, you didn't even know what your plan was. You went through some ideas in your head.

Plan A was running, nothing else. But you ditched that plan quickly, they would just catch you or make your collar explode. Plan B was better, attacking them to get a chance to get rid of the collar. But how? The guards in the auction house said even attempting to remove it would trigger the explosion. Both of these possibilities weren't perfect, but you didn't have a plan C either.

However, fate decided to play in your favour.

A young waiter was coming up the stairs with another plate for the nobles, which was filled up to the brim with food. He visibly struggled balancing the silver platter and just before he reached the safety of the table, the plate wobbled dangerously, and he lost concentration. With wide eyes you watched as the plate tipped over in his hands, comically slow. The waiter tried to catch it, but he only made it worse. Mid-air, he hauled the plate towards Charlos and his family instead of catching it and the dish landed on their faces with a splattering sound.

The whole situation seemed like a theatre play. Before you could even think twice about it, you used the confusion around you to roughly yank at the leash that was connected to Charlos' chair, resulting in it tipping over with him on it. With a loud thud, his body hit the ground. Shalria and Roswald shrieked, trying to wipe the food away from their faces. Charlos tried to get up, but he just rolled around on his back like a fat bug.

"Shalria!", he yelled from the floor, "get the remote!"

This was your cue. You made a beeline for the stairs, carefully not to trip over the poor waiter. You pulled him up by the collar.

"You need to run, they'll kill you", you said and then looked back at the other enslaved woman, who was still standing there motionless. She shook her head and didn't budge, and you knew that she was too scared to run. It was her decision though, you couldn't help her if she didn't want it.

The leash was rustling behind you as you hurried down the stairs. If Charlos got a hold of the remote to make your collar explode it would be over for you, but it would still be better than being tortured and raped in Mary Geoise until they disposed of you.

Since the nobles were still screaming their heads of, you figured that they still hadn't found it.

At the end of the stairs, you quickly jumped into the kitchen, past some waiters who wanted to attend the scene on the landing.

"Ok, what do I do now", you panted, running around the room hurriedly. While scanning the counters and appliances with your eyes, they fell on a big pot of cooking oil.

With no hesitation, you grabbed the pot and poured the oil over your head and the explosive collar. If you tried hard enough, you could squeeze your head through it with the help of the greasy liquid.

"Hot!", you swore when the oil hit your skin, but luckily it wasn't hot enough to burn you.

You sat on the floor, rubbing the oil over your head and neck. Suddenly, the collar started beeping and you put two and two together. It was only a matter of time until the collar would explode. Breathing heavily and stretching your neck as far as possible, you pulled on it with slippery hands.

"Please... please. Come. Off!", you cried and with one last pull, the collar slipped over your head, landing on the floor next to you. You felt a sharp pain in your ears from the collar going past them, but you had to ignore that for now.

Your breathing picked up when the collar started beeping faster and you kicked it mindlessly, to get it as far away from you as possible. You managed to kick it a good meter farther and the collar exploded with a loud noise. The impact pushed you to your back and your ears were ringing.

A sharp pain travelling from your foot up to your hip pulled you back into reality. The explosion had been too close after all, and you saw your leg bleeding.

"Oh my god", you panted, and tears were threatening to blur your vision. Reading about such things in books was way different than seeing yourself being actually hurt, and the pain was numbing your head.

I don't have time for this, you thought and pulled your leg up carefully, wiping the tears away. You had another look around the kitchen and found some towels and a roasted piece of meat with some string around it.

Somehow, you heaved yourself up, finding support on the counters. The string around the meat easily came off and the paper towels weren't far either.

"Ok, I know what to do. I learned this", you said while wrapping the towels around your injured leg. You hissed when the material touched the wound, but it couldn't be helped. You tried your best tying the string around it and when it felt like it could last a while, you started limping towards a door at the end of the kitchen that you assumed would lead outside.

It was only a matter of time until the nobles came after you, so you approached the door as fast as possible. Luckily, it wasn't locked, and you peered through the frame. You were right, it did lead outside and even better, you couldn't see anybody. When the door fell back, you could hear aggravated screaming outside the kitchen door.

"What am I paying you stupid bodyguards for! If you don't find that slut, I will feed your guts to the dogs!" That was Charlos, who had apparently called his bodyguards inside the restaurant for a little help.

You couldn't afford to think about the consequences of your escape if they found you, so instead you picked up your pace. Your leg hurt like hell, but you would have to deal with it later. Your primary goal was to survive.

When another wave of adrenaline hit you, you started running in the direction that would lead you the farthest away from the restaurant. Charlos and his guard dogs would surely find you in no time if you hesitated, although it was getting dark outside.

"Shit", you exclaimed when you saw where you had ended up after a good minute of running. It was the shore, and there was no way to run any further. Sabaody was made of several small islands, but there wasn't a bridge or anything that would lead you to the next island. If you ran along the shore, they would spot you instantly.

Anxiously, you looked around. The only thing you spotted was a ships mast behind a tree. No matter who this ship belonged to, it was your only hope. The furious voice of Charlos rang in your ears and you made your way towards the ship.

It seemed like there was no one aboard and when you were close enough, you wanted to shout out to them, but you decided against it when Charlos' voice came closer. There was no ladder on the ship, so you had to think quickly.

The adrenaline made the pain in your leg more bearable, and you managed to jump high enough to grab the gunwale. You lost the hold as soon as you wanted to haul yourself on deck, since your hands were still slippery from the oil. You tried to hold onto the hull, but to no avail. With a loud splashing sound, you landed in the ice-cold water.

"Shi-", you hissed and cursed Charlos' clothing choice for you. The coldness was all around your body and you were afraid that you'd freeze to death, although the sea water soothed your injured leg.

"Guards!", bellowed Charlos' nasal voice and your heartbeat picked up instantly.

They found me!

You pressed your body under water and as close to the bottom of the hull as possible. If they couldn't see you, they would maybe retreat. Your heart beat so fast that you thought it was impossible to overhear from where they stood. But instead of checking the water, the men jumped on the ship.

"Search that ship and then come back immediately!", Charlos ordered, and you prayed that they wouldn't sink it when they were done. It was your only hiding spot.

Shalria's shrill voice came from the distance. "Brother! Brother come back quick, wife 10 tried to escape but we managed to stop her!"

Charlos tsked angrily, turned on his heel and his guards left the ship. They slowly went back to the restaurant, and he muttered inaudible things under his breath, sounding very upset.

Wife 10 tried to escape... that poor woman, why didn't she come with me!

The other woman's fate was settled. It was surely over for her, and you felt guilty that you didn't take her with you, by force if necessary. But it was too late. It was a miracle that you managed to escape, and luck had really been on your side tonight.

By now, the sea water had washed away the oil, and you started another attempt at climbing up the hull, digging your fingers into the bumpy wood as hard as possible. Maybe you could treat your wounds on the ship and find something to eat, in the best case some new clothes. This was probably a ship belonging to some merchants or something. If you explained your situation to them, they'd surely understand.

It was a particularly dark night, so you did neither see that the bow was actually a dinosaur skull, nor the pirate flag swaying proudly in the breeze. A white skull with fiery red hair and goggles glanced down on you and watched you as you intruded the ship.

You didn't make it far because a wave of fatigue washed over you, so you decided to sit down first. Immediately you regretted that decision because it took away the adrenaline and you now felt the pain in your entire body. Your leg, your ears and your hands were the worst. You shivered in your wet, skimpy clothes and hugged your body tightly to gain some warmth.

For the first time since the start of your escape, you felt empty and lost. You had thought that it would become better, that being away from the world nobles would make your situation more hopeful, but nothing changed. You had nowhere to go. Your parents were still dead, everyone at home was dead. You didn't know where your brother was and no way of finding out. You had never been told where exactly Deku-sama lived and walking around on Sabaody wasn't an option either.

For now, you could only sit around on this ship. You wanted to stand up, to at least find a blanket and some food, but at the same time you wanted to sit in the freezing cold to numb the pain. Finally, you were able to cry. It was relieving to at least feel some kind of emotion.

Violent sobs racked your body and the planks below you turned dark with tears. At last, you could let it all out. You curled up into a ball on the wooden planks. It must have been pitiful to look at, and you wished for someone to pull you into their arms, rocking you back and forth to comfort you. You craved the gentle embrace of your mother or even just your father patting your back. Something, just some kind of physical comfort. But you would never feel that kind of tender care again because everyone was gone.

After what felt like hours of crying, your tears had dried and only occasionally you let out a quiet whimper. You didn't know if the physical or the emotional pain was worse. The makeshift bandage on your leg was merely a piece of cloth now, but at least the bleeding had stopped. You looked at the throbbing limb and tried to concentrate on something other than the obvious pain.

It was useless. The crying and the pain took a toll on your body, and you slowly slipped into a rough sleep, feeling as numb as never before.

You woke up startled, scurrying around on the deck because of one of many nightmares that you had since you were abducted. You blinked rapidly, trying to make out your surroundings. It was dawn already and you could finally see what kind of ship you climbed onto. It was quite colourful, a black mast and sail, a green galley, red quarters, and a giant yellow skull in the front. A very odd merchant ship.

A giant yellow skull in the front? A black sail... there's a skull with flames on said sail..., you thought, looking up.

"Holy shit, not again!", you exclaimed while letting your eyes roam the ship. Again, you had somehow ended up on a fucking pirate ship. A brutal looking one at that. It was a lot larger than the ship of that dirty captain and looked more special. There was no doubt that it belonged to a ruthless pirate crew.

Loud chattering and hoarse laughter shifted your attention towards the shore. Carefully, you peeked over the railing. You saw a group of men in the distance, making their way towards the ship. With wide eyes you watched them banter with each other, but soon your eyes fell on the tall man walking in the middle, who didn't engage in the playful antics of the others.

He just smirked, carrying a bottle of alcohol in his right hand, his left hand stuffed in his trouser pockets leisurely. He wore a dark, heavy looking fur coat with golden spikes and a thin leather bandolier around his chest, holding a dagger and a small gun.

You looked at the sail above you, then back at his face. No doubt, it was his jolly roger up there. The fiery red hair and the goggles on his forehead were definitely his trademark. You studied his appearance a little more, even though you were scared to your bones.

His height was impressive. He was the tallest among the crew and the fur coat didn't hide his bare chest, his muscular torso clearly visible. His amber eyes, no, his whole face was intimidating. It took you a few seconds to realise that he didn't have eyebrows, but it didn't look ridiculous. He had red lips, kind of matching his hair.

You found yourself staring at him a little too long, not really knowing why. Something just drew you to him. His face and demeanour screamed danger, but he somehow fascinated you with his confident stance and his fierce eyes. His presence was overwhelming, although not in a bad way. He was different from the other men you had met in your life.

You should have escaped the ship while you still had time, but you had lost yourself in the man's eyes. When you came back to your senses, the group had nearly reached the ship, and you hurried to the other side of the deck to jump into the water. Finding a hideout on Sabaody to look for an innocent soul to help you or the marines seemed a better option than staying on yet another pirate ship, even with the world nobles at your heels.

You wanted to run but your leg didn't really allow it. With a few last limps, you barely reached the opposite railing. A whooshing sound behind you made you halt and turn around. The huge shadow of the man in the fur coat blocked the rising sun as he jumped onto the deck. Frozen in shock, you missed the last chance of escaping into the water.

With doe eyes, you watched him as he landed in front of you, inspecting your sitting frame with a frown.

"Who the fuck are you and why are you on my fucking ship?"

[kerie-prince]

black hair dye

George Weasley x Reader (fluff)

requested: (anon) hello! i was wondering if i could request? could u write george x reader, established relationship, him n fred are getting rlly into pranks (more than they usually would be i suppose) and one prank goes just a tad too far and reader ends up getting upset and hurt and fluff ensues :) i hope that’s alright, thank u sm! :)

warnings: use of the word "mudblood"

summary: you knew what you signed up for when you started dating one of the most devious (yet sweetest) boys in school. what you didn't sign up for was to get caught up in one of their devious plans

a/n: my first request since i started writing again 🥺💙 hope you guys like it!

(gif cred)

George Weasley loved two things: Y/N and pranking. In that order? Well, we’ll get to that later.

The mischievous smirk on his face, the dedication in planning, the certain glint in his eyes, and the contagious laughter from the aftermath had been some of the reasons you fell for the devilish Gryffindor boy.

On a couple occasions, you’ve assisted in some pranks with the twins. Your favorite one being the time that you had given Draco Malfoy a heart-shaped box of chocolates on Valentine’s day, chocolates that were actually puking pasties the twins made. You skipped across the hallways and stood in front of the Slytherin blond, twirling your hair in your fingers as you gave him the box and walked away. Madam Pomfrey had spent three hours helping him clear everything out of his system. That same day, George presented you with his own box of chocolates. It took a while to convince you that they were real chocolates, but once you decided on risking it, he asked you out. It was oddly romantic. Not just because it was Valentine's day, but that he asked you after doing probably the least romantic thing together. Not many girls dream of their crush asking them out after they just sent another boy emptying his guts out for hours.

That brought you to the present, in the Common Room studying for exams with Angelina and Hermione. Slughorn may have been significantly nicer and easier to follow compared to Snape, but that didn’t make his work any easier. As you had your nose in your book, hushed whispers and the familiar laugh that had indication of scheming flowed through your ears. The ginger boy walked towards you and placed a quick kiss on your forehead, “I'll see you later, love.”

Fred and George made a dash to their shared dorm with Lee. “They're at it again,” Angelina commented with her eyes still on the parchment in front of her.

“That's to say that they ever stopped,” Hermione jokes. There was no telling what the boys were planning this time. It seemed that with every prank, they had to outdo themselves in the next one. Like a competition only between the two of them.

As they were in their final year at Hogwarts, you always wondered if George would ever retire from pranking and go on to do other things after graduation. But you also couldn't imagine him doing anything else. There were talks of opening a shop after graduation thanks to Harry giving them his winnings from the Triwizard Tournament, but to your knowledge nothing has been set in stone. George was always happy when coming up with pranks, and when George is happy, so are you.

You read the time on your wrist watch and started packing your things. “Alright girls, I'm beat. We’ll meet tomorrow in the library, yeah?” the two girls nodded in your direction. Walking towards the girls dormitories, you could hear the twins and Lee laughing loudly from their room. Oh, boys.

—

In the Great Hall, you ate your breakfast as you read over your notes for Advanced Potions when George took his usual seat next to you. “Good morning my sweet.” He kissed your forehead as he did every morning. You tore your eyes away for a moment from the book to give him a smile and peck his lips. “Morning, love.”

“Studying as always, Y/N?” Fred asked from across. “‘Course I am. Someone has to be able to tell you what ingredients to use to make a stink bomb,” you teased. Your surrounding housemates laughed at your response. Fred and George went on whispering, presumably about their new plan. You and Angelina looked at each other with a nod of disapproval and laughed to yourselves. Moments later, Lee ran in the Great Hall carrying two bottles, one empty and one filled with a black substance.

“What are you planning now?” you interrogated. Lee and Fred gave George a nod for him to go on. “This, my love, is black hair dye. Muggles use it to color their hair.”

“Yeah, I know what hair dye is. Why do you have it- are you going to mix it with Ron’s shampoo?” your eyes nearly matched the mischievous look in the boys’ eyes around you.

“I like the way you think but no,” George replied.

“This dye is going into none other than Malfoy’s shampoo.” Fred completed. The twins went on talking back and forth completing each other’s sentences.

“Lee’s the only one that has access to the prefect’s bathroom,” George started.

“Considering that McGonagall doesn’t trust us to go in there.” Angelina scoffed, “I can’t imagine why.” The twins ignored her sarcastic remark and continued. “We’re going to steal his shampoo and replace it with the one we made with the black hair dye. He’ll go washing on and,”

“Blondie no more.” Lee completed. You could imagine it now, Malfoy walking around with greasy black hair. This would probably be Fred and George’s most devious plan. They have had their fun with setting random fireworks, hexing quills to move on their own, and candies that had some not so pleasant after effects. The more you thought about it, though, the more worried you became. The three of you had detention for weeks from the last stunt with Malfoy, and his father still holds the grudge against Arthur. Something like this would not only get them in detention until the end of the school year, Lucius could use his position at the Ministry to get Arthur fired.

It seemed as if your best friend had the same thought seeing as she had the same look on her face. “Love, don’t you think that’s a bit too much?” Angelina faced Fred.

“Nonsense. We got this handled.” The boys went on with their fun. You stood up from the table and gathered your things. Angelina joined you, not wanting to risk being associated with the boys and landing herself in detention along with them if they were to be caught. You walked arm-in-arm to the library where you’d surely find Hermione with a huge stack of books. “Boys,” your best friend simply said.

“Yeah, but what would we do without them?”

—

A week has passed since and it was now the night before your Potions exam. You hadn’t seen much of your boyfriend, knowing that he was being kept busy with his brother. As much as you love spending time with him, it was nice to get some work done. You had determination to get straight O’s for your last year and you were confident this exam would help you get it. The library was closing its doors soon, so you quickly grabbed all your things to make it back to the Gryffindor common room in time.

Your ink pot spilled over the table in the midst of the rush. Somewhere in your bag was a little package of tissues and you used the whole thing to try and clean up as much as you could. The ink was staining your hands but you could care less about it. Deciding that the ink was mostly wiped off, you ran out the doors and made a straight dash to your house.

Once you made it to your shared dorm room, you tossed your bag to the side and threw yourself on your bed and fell asleep in seconds.

—

The morning came and you groaned at the sunlight blinding your eyes. Your uniform was wrinkled up, hair pointed at every direction, and your breath was enough to get you up and out of bed. The girls around you laughed at the sight of your unruly state.

“Y/N, what is that on your hands?” Angelina chuckled.

“Just some ink. I spilled my pot in the library and tried to clean it,” you answered. In the shared bathroom, you casted a spell for your toothbrush to move around your mouth as you tried to wash off the ink. Unfortunately, it wasn’t letting up. The black ink was clinging to your skin and only seemed to be spreading around even more. It was starting to stain the porcelain sink when you decided that you’ll just deal with it for the day.

You bathed yourself, changed into fresh robes and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. Potions would be the first class of the day and you were confident in yourself to pass the exam. Before you could step into the Hall, someone grabbed you from their collar and dragged you to the opposite. “You’re coming with me, mudblood.” You couldn’t see who it was as their hood was covering their head, but the hand on you had the familiar silver ring on one of the fingers.

You questioned him as he dragged you to the dungeons. He forced you into Snape’s office, catching the professor’s attention with the slam of the door. You stood confused as to why you were brought to Snape’s office and it seemed he was confused as well. When you turned around to the boy behind you, you were met with a black-haired, red-faced Malfoy. His nostrils were flared and he had stains around his forehead and the back of his neck. You couldn’t help yourself when you started cackling at the sight.

“SHE DID THIS TO ME,” Malfoy accused with a pointed finger at you. Your laughs were dying down, and as you caught your breath, you faced him boldly. “Please, I have better things to do than petty things such as this.” He walked up to you and forcibly grabbed your hands and raised them to show Snape. “Look at this! This is clear proof she did this. Do something about this!” He demanded from the brooding professor. You had panic in your eyes as you realized the situation you were in. The ink on your skin matched with the dye in Malfoy’s hair.

“Professor, I swear I didn’t do this. You have to believe me,” you pleaded. Snape seemed unamused by the whole thing. “Then, Miss Y/L/N, how do you explain the stains on your hands?”

“I spilled my ink pot last night and tried to clean it up but it stained my hands,” you waved your hands in front of you. The situation was coincidental but even you thought it sounded suspicious.

“Rubbish, you expect me to believe that you happened to ‘clean up spilled ink’ the same night this happens to me?” Malfoy was raging as he pointed to his head. “My father will hear about this,” the famous words fell from his lips. In the middle of it all, you looked at the clock above Snape’s head and saw that you were now ten minutes late to Slughorn’s class. You were missing the exam.

“Please, professor. I didn’t do this. I’ve been in the library every night studying,” you continued begging.

“Were you with anyone last night to prove your innocence?” Snape put emphasis in his last word. You looked down and held your hands in front of you. “No, sir.”

“Then what am I to make when one of my students comes in looking like,” he paused to look at Malfoy, “that and your hands are in the state it is now?”

“But I didn’t do it,” you whispered with watered eyes.

“Alright. If you didn’t do it, then who did?” You couldn’t throw your boyfriend under the bus at that moment. Him and his brother were already on thin ice with the pretentious Slytherin. This would just make it worse. “I-I can’t tell you,” you stuttered.

“You can’t or you won’t?” Snape persisted. You stood silently, having counted that you were now thirty minutes late to class and there was no way you would be able to retake it. Slughorn was unusually strict about one thing; tardiness. “Very well then. If you won’t tell me, I’ll have no choice but to give you detention for three months,” Snape declared.

Your eyes nearly fell out in shock, “THREE MONTHS?” Malfoy had the biggest smirk on his face and his arms were crossed in victory. “And you’ll be responsible for putting his hair back to its natural state. Now get out.” He ushered you two out harshly and slammed his door in your face when you tried to plead.

The Slytherin boy just chuckled as he raised his hood and pranced away. The tears were falling from your eyes. You leaned against the wall with your head leaned back. Plans of straight O’s were out the window, but that’s not what really upset you. What worried you was having to deal with the wrath of Lucius Malfoy once he caught wind of this. And even with all this, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at George. It’s not like he spilled the ink on your hands.

You walked straight to your house with your head sulked down. When you started climbing the changing stairs, you heard your boyfriends’ laugh from above. “Y/N! Have you seen Malfoy yet? Godric, he looks terrible!” Fred gave him a high-five, “We did it again, Georgie.”

George’s laughter faded when he saw your tired face, tears dried on your cheeks. He cupped your cheek with his large hand and lifted your face up to look at him, “Love, what’s wrong? Did the exam not go well?”

“Got detention. I missed the exam,” you explained. Your voice sounded tired and all you wanted was to lay in your room for the rest of the day. You didn’t care about your other classes. “Detention? For what?” Fred asked from behind George. You lifted one of your hands and babbled ‘Malfoy’ before slipping past and walked inside the common room. The boys looked at each other in confusion before putting two and two together and made a dash for you inside.

“That’s ridiculous, you weren’t even a part of it this time,” George exclaimed. Fred non verbally agreed. They were appalled. “Did you tell them you didn't do it?”

“I did but when Snape asked who did, I couldn’t tell him,” you lowered your voice so they couldn't hear the last. But George did. Because of him, you missed out on the exam you have been desperately studying for and you got in trouble for something he did.

George left your room in a huff and started marching his way to Snape’s office. He couldn't hear Fred calling out for him, and you lost your breath from chasing after him. Damn those long legs.

—

Around dinner time, George walked into the Great Hall with one hand holding on to his shoulder as he moved the opposite one in circles. “What’s up with you?” Ron asked with raised eyebrows.

“Snape’s got me organizing his potions in both his office and supply closet. Man can’t organize to save his life,” George may have been uncomfortable, but he still had his signature smile. You reached your hands to massage his shoulder. “Why’d you do that?”

“Whaddya mean, love?” He looked clueless.

“Why did you get yourself in trouble? Aren't you worried about what will happen?” you whispered for only him to hear you. “I only told the truth. No need for you to take the fall. Anyways, I talked to Slughorn and he agreed to let you take the exam this Saturday at seven in the morning.” If at all possible, you fell more in love with George Weasley in that moment. You kissed him on the cheek, held one of his hands in yours and continued the night talking with friends.

“Hey Georgie, think we can top this one?” Fred looked over his shoulder staring at the wonderful victim of the previous prank. The Slytherin table were snickering at their Prince. Draco sat with his head down, threats not doing him any justice anymore.

“You're on, Freddie.” The twin boys shook their hands and started talking about ideas for what they’d do next.

Oh, Merlin.

—

requests are open!

[ghost-oftheriver]

Parent Guidance Recommended

word count: 3,281

focus characters: Pacifica Northwest, Fiddleford H. McGucket

warnings: child neglect, implications of alcoholism, implications of infidelity, mugging, knives, threatening, generally awful people

summary: On the worst birthday she’s ever had, Pacifica finds herself seeking support from a source she’d least expect; the new owner of the once-Northwest Manor, her own former home.

Pacifica was turning fourteen on the Fourth of July. A perfect birthday. Perfect girl. Perfect family.

Her parents would throw a party. Like any Northwest party, with gorgeous, itchy lace ball gowns and impeccable etiquette, each word in every conversation spoken with flawless flow, with purposeful posture and respect-demanding mannerisms. A perfect party for perfect people, with perfect food prepared.

After claiming her designated ruby-studded chair at the dinner table, she would be shocked when her plate was revealed to her. Deep-fried Roareos. Stacked in a small sweet-powdered delicious heap in front of her, chocolately, cream-filled cookies, dipped in batter and deep-fried to perfection. Sugary. Messy. Pacifica had never had it before. How did her parents know she wanted to try it?

She turned her head to cast a quizzical look to her parents, who’d been watching her, holding each other with loving smiles directed at her. A warm feeling spread inside her like warm butter. She reached for a fork.. but hesitated, and hovered her hand over the plate instead. She casted another glance at her parents to see their reaction. No cold response was elicited so far. In fact, she could have sworn her father nodded in approval.

She delicately picked one of the cookies up with her thumb and forefinger, and raised it to her lips to nibble at it. Her senses were flooded with warm, sweet goodness. Just as amazing as she imagined. She stuffed the rest in her mouth, going so far as to lick her fingers. Her lips were coated with melted cream. She neglected the napkins beside her plate to instead lick the sugar mixture from her lips. Barbaric. But her parents didn’t seem to mind either of the actions. She thought she even heard an amused giggle from her mother.

“Sweetie, would you like your presents now or after you’re finished?” Priscilla— no, this was Mom— asked. Pacifica paused. She had a say? Were they not on a schedule? She supposed if she was given the option, she would love to open gifts while she snacked on the rest of the Roareos.

“Now, please,” the young blond girl responded. On cue, one of the butlers was beside her, placing a neatly-packaged gift box on her lap. A beautiful purple silk ribbon sat on top, holding it together. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt so eager to reveal its contents.

What was inside? Some comfy clothes? Paint, perhaps? A cute animal plush that would contrast the creepy porcelain dolls in her room? The possibilities were endless.

Delightfully, she tugged at it. The box opened. As she peered inside, her excitement dissolved. The warm feeling turned to ice.

The bell. The one her father carried on his person at all times. The one that willed his command in the mansion. The one Pacifica hated. Suddenly Preston was standing over her, slowly picking the bronze item up.

Loving smile gone, replaced with a disapproving, even disgusted scowl. She shrank in her seat.

“Pacifica Elise Northwest,” he boomed. “So it’s true. You’re mingling with the common, ignoble crowds these days.”

“No!” she found herself crying out. “It’s not like that! I have to!”

“Have to what? Work a lowly job as a waitress in that slobbish cesspit? At that- that disgusting, sorry excuse for a dining destination? THAT’S NOT ACCEPTABLE EVER. How can you call yourself a Northwest? How can you call yourself our daughter?”

The very first thought she woke up to was that it was too good to be real.

Tangled in her sheets, warm tears trickling down her cheeks. She sniffled and quickly wiped them away before slipping out of bed.

The house was dark. Silent. The clock on the wall read 7:52. Her parents’ bedroom was empty as she passed. It smelled of wine. They would not be back for a while. Pacifica found herself releasing a sigh, her tension easing a little, even if that meant she’d be spending her birthday alone for the very first time. She leaned against the doorframe and closed her eyes, trying to recall the good part of the dream, trying to revive the taste of the sugary treat, but it was gone. Soured by the unreality of it. All it was doing was making her hungry belly ache.

When checking the refrigerator, cabinets and pantry and coming to the realization that all that was left was a loaf of bread, a half-empty tube of Bringles and a couple dinner kits. No breakfast food. Not even a single egg. Not even leftovers. Something like despair and disappointment blossomed inside her. She would have to eat at the diner again…

She snagged her wallet from the counter only to find her twenty had disappeared, leaving only a couple measly ones and fives and whatever coins were loose inside. She felt the tears building a little again and slapped the wallet shut to try to stifle them. There was a time she had nearly everything, but now after Weirdmaggedon, she couldn’t even trust that her own hard-earned cash wouldn’t be snagged if left around her own greedy birthgivers. Her strength was being sapped by the will not to burst into a sobbing fit. There was enough in there to cover breakfast at work when she got to Greasy’s, at least.

With her belly still growling, she changed out of her nightwear, threw on her apron and a pair of aviators and began the walk to work.

The day was a bright one, sunny and a little breezy. A pleasant temperature. It did not reflect how Pacifica felt. Despite the summer weather, she pulled her scarf over her head, casting shade over her face. The neighborhood streets were mostly void of people, every house gated off. Just because they lost the mansion did not mean the Northwests were living in squalor, but her spending money was strictly monitored. Her parents now enforced that any money she spent, she’d have to earn. A fourteen year old. A child. Just so her birthgivers could ensure a few extra dollars in their account.

Pacifica couldn’t help but feel the fanciness of the neighborhood was almost deceitful. Her own household was a prime example. Her own rumbling tummy was a prime example. She wondered if there were others who lived in these houses that had similar problems as hers. Unlikely here.. however there were definitely others, people who’d been pushed to extremes just to get by.

Whether that was the reason behind why Pacifica soon found herself being followed halfway through the trip, she didn’t know. The feeling of being watched intensified by the minute, and glances into the reflections of shop windows told her there was a person. They refused to let up for at least a couple of blocks, the likelihood that they were just going the same direction by chance was steadily decreasing. They probably saw her leaving the wealthier neighborhood. The young girl picked up her pace. It did her no good.

The next moments were a blur. Her arm was snatched. When she struggled, a slice put a stop to it. Her arm began to bleed. Something sharp pressed to her throat, stiffening every muscle in her body. Vulgar language was hurled at her, demanding cooperation before her purse was yanked from her shoulder, and she was thrown to the curb. She was left winded, bruised, panicked and hyperventilating. She struggled for her breath back.

Mugged. She’d been mugged for the few measly dollars she had on her. And the fact that her first thought after all that was concern for what her parents would think that she let those precious dollars be nicked in the first place.. it only increased her distraught. Her breaths hastened more and more, and she didn’t realize her tears had finally started to flow until she was already sprinting down the street, her vision muddled. Every step felt like thunder to her ears. Home. She just wanted to go home. Maybe she couldn’t be herself as much, and maybe she was always busy, under constant supervision. But at least there was stability. At least there was certainty of the future. At least it was comfortable, at least there was always food on the table, breakfast, lunch and dinner. At least her father never stumbled around reeking of alcohol while only Lord knew where her mother was. Maybe her parents weren’t the best to other people but at least she could be certain they were true to each other. At least she could pretend everything was fine.

Pacifica wasn’t sure how far she’d gone. She was sweaty, she felt gross and sticky. Her legs were sore, threatening to give out if she went any further. She was still bleeding. She ached everywhere. But she’d reached her destination. She stood at the bottom of a familiar, long driveway, and at the top, sitting on a large hill, towering over the town stood the proud family mansion. Waves of nostalgia and sorrow crashed over her. Everything felt so gross. Every memory tainted by the knowledge of her parents’ true nature. She couldn’t even speak to anyone, not even her parents. Who would listen to a rich brat whine about how she used to be richer? Certainly not any of the townsfolk.

She found herself staring at the manor for a while, not entirely sure what to do.

“...What am I doing here…?” Pacifica whispered, sniffling and reaching for the tissues she kept in her purse, only to be hit with the whirlwind of events that had just happened again. Her arm stung. She could barely hold herself upright. She felt so… so tired. She meekly wiped her nose on her sleeve, and started to turn around when suddenly she bumped into someone.

“Wo-ah there, kiddo, careful, better watch where ya—” a cheerful voice piped, before cutting itself off when the sight of Pacifica in her disheveled state registered. “Huh? Hey.. Ah’ know you.”

Color drained from Pacifica’s cheeks. This guy again.. Why was he here? She quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks as she tried a witty remark, but — “Y-y-ea-h, well-, wh-o w-ou-uldn’-t-” — ultimately failing when her quivering body wouldn’t stop heaving sobs. Again she sniffled. Disgusting. In front of the hillbilly too.

McGucket’s face morphed into something like sympathy. He kneeled down to her height. “Ah- hey, what’s goin’ on kiddo? Are ya alright?”

Pacifica parted her lips. She wanted to say yes. Her instincts screamed at her to say yes. She could practically hear her birthgivers demanding her to say yes. She had to be perfect. She had to be flawless. She had to be stoic, proud, happy, for her family.

But that’s not what came out.

“n-NO!” she cried, her knees finally buckling as if the years of abuse weighing down on her shoulders finally came crashing down on top of her. Her face buried in her hands, sobbing violently into them. She wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay. Wails and cries escaped. She couldn’t stop the tears anymore. She was in so much pain, she was so alone. The sobs wouldn’t stop. The raging storm of emotion only continued to demolish her walls, clawing at her pride and self esteem. Everything she pretended to be crashed and burned at that moment.

Fiddleford had been a little stunned by the sudden breakdown, but he started to piece the situation together from the bits and pieces the poor girl was babbling. He didn’t get up and walk away like Pacifica was expecting him to. He stayed put, even placed his hand on her shoulder to try to console her. When she didn’t flinch away from him, the old man started rubbing circles on her back as she cried and cried. Fiddleford never was the best at comfort.. though he could only imagine how long this outburst had been bottled up, and he thought it best that Pacifica let it all out before trying to say anything.

It was a while before Pacifica’s sobs began to calm enough to allow her to speak in more coherent sentences. The story became clearer. She spoke about how her parents had mistreated her, like she was an accessory rather than a human being, a literal child. How things had been getting worse this past year since they were forced to move due to her father’s irresponsible stock market decisions during Weirdmaggedon, to preserve what fortune they had left. How she felt more at home at the diner than she ever did at her own residence. How she hardly saw her parents anymore. How everything had changed for the worst. The way her parents had become about money, even how they scolded her for ‘nagging’ about her birthday the previous day, when it had been the first time she brought it up in half a year. It all hurt terribly to speak of but Pacifica couldn’t help but notice the sudden weightless feeling after getting everything out. She was surprised to find Old Man McGucket was still listening.

“Y’know,” he spoke finally, “Ah knew a fella once who thought ‘e had everythin’ before ‘e lost it all too. ‘Should’a been there for ‘im like he needed.”

Pacifica was quiet for a moment. “..W..ho was he?”

Fiddleford only waved his hand. “Ol’ college buddy. Doin’ mighty fine these days. Now whaddya say we get off’a the street an’ patch up that lil’ ol’ scratch a’ yours inside?”

It tooka moment to register the question through his southern accent, but when she did, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “..I- inside..?”

Inside the mansion. Pacifica almost couldn’t believe it. Old Man McGucket was the one that bought the Northwest Manor. She wondered how on earth a former homeless man was possibly able to afford such a grand purchase, until peeks into a couple rooms along the hallway that had been filled with computers and strange machinery told her she didn’t know nearly as much about McGucket as she previously thought.

It was so strange walking through the hallways again. Everything was the same, but different. Was the grand rustic architecture and furniture always so beautiful? And… were those.. raccoons she was spotting out of the corner of her eyes?

McGucket led her to a room with a couch- a familiar silver-themed room with a certain carpet pattern. It looked nearly the same, except for the banjo leaning against the couch’s armrest, and maybe a few more stains than its previous flawless condition “for guests- that is, for guests to look at”. Despite her emotional state, she found herself smiling at the memory of her adventures with Dipper Pines, trying to bust that ghost… until she recalled the punishment her parents had made for her after that was all over. She began to feel a little sick. Her gaze dropped to the floor as McGucket trudged into the room, plopped onto the couch and patted the cushions beside him. Hesitantly, she followed him and did as gestured. It was.. weird to be back. She wiped her eyes again.

“How’d that’a happen?”

“..What?” the question hit her like a slap.

“The cut.” He gestured to the bleeding injury with a bandaged hand.

“...Oh.” Again, her gaze dropped. Her eyes began to mist again before she shut them. “..I-I.. I was.. um.. mugged on the way here… They stole my favorite purse…” Shame burned at her belly. She didn’t see any sign of judgement in McGucket’s reaction, though. He didn’t ask why she let that happen, or why she wasn’t responsible enough to bring someone with her. There was only concern for her.

“Oh.. ‘Ahm sorry that’a happened. Gravity Falls’s usually safe.. er- ah..” The old man scratched the back of his head. “‘least, it’s not the people ya gotta usually worry ‘bout.”

“Heh.. yeah..” Shrugging, the old man pulled out a full-blown first aid kid, temporarily baffling Pacifica for a moment. “Wai- were you just carrying that—?”

The question went without a response as McGucket went straight to disinfecting the cut. “‘Doesn’t look terri-bubly deep,” he piped. “Should’a stopped bleeding by now but we’ll patch it up ta’ keep it safe while it’s a-healin’.”

“Wait.. how do you know how to do this..?” Pacifica asked, furrowing her eyebrows a little. The old man gave her a cheery grin.

“Well, ‘gotta pick up somethin’ ‘bout it after livin’ in the dump buildin’ evil whatsits and thingamajigs outta rusty metal for a couple’a decades.”

..Oh. Well, that would make sense, she supposed.. Briefly, the question as to why he was being so nice to her after the way she and her family treated him crossed her mind. She wondered if that friend he mentioned had something to do with it… Suddenly she found herself wishing she’d paid closer attention to the details of the relationships between the other people involved in the zodiac. She guessed it could be that hotter Mr. Pines (or.. Dr. Pines?), she recalled seeing some kind of emotional exchange between him and McGucket during Weirdmaggedon.

Occupied with her thoughts, she hardly realized McGucket had completely finished with the bandage until he announced it.

“Done!” he cheered, stuffing the first aid kit back into the oblivion from which it came. Weird. More Gravity Falls weirdness. “...Thanks.”

“Anytime, sweetie. Y’always got’a listenin’ ear right here if ya’ need it.”

Pacifica gave him a small, grateful smile. The old man would never know what that meant to her.

“I.. I don’t know..” she sighed softly. “Today was just… awful… It’s the first birthday I’ll be spending alone, and I guess it’s… getting to me…”

“Yer birthday’s today?? Ah, Ah’m sorry, sugerbun,” McGucket spoke. “Awful break, goin’ through somethin’ like a’this on’a birthday mornin’. Say, ya always got a place right ‘ere if ya need. Plenty a’ empty bedrooms.”

Pacifica raised her head. “...R...Really..?”

McGucket beamed. “Why sure! Ya remind me a’ my lil’ Tator Tot, Ah’ miss ‘em somethin’ terrible. It gets a lil’ lonely in this ‘ere big ol’ mansion sometimes and ah wouldn’t mind a visit from some young folk from a’time ta’ time.”

She could… she could visit. Whenever she wanted? Her old home, without her parents around. McGucket was that okay with her? Even going so far as to compare her to (presumably) his own kid? That was… incredible. Before thinking it through, she threw her arms around the old man, chorusing her ‘thank you’s with a bubble of laughter. Though startled, Fiddleford slowly returned the hug with a warm smile.

He stank quite a bit. Pacifica recoiled a little at the realization of what she was doing. Ew. What would people think of her if they caught her doing something so unthinkable? Willingly embracing this stinky old man who…. gave incredible hugs.. Her concern suddenly dissolved. In its stead, a certain safety appeared, and she melted into it a little more. It was the same feeling she craved in her dreams. Dirt didn’t matter at all anymore. The feeling of a parental embrace shielding her from the unpleasantness of the world was all she could bring herself to care about at that moment. It felt so warm… Before she knew it, she was tearing up again.

“...Thank you, McGucket..”

“Heheh, anytime, sugarbun. Say, since it is yer birthday, whaddya say we hit th’ town an’ find somethin’ ta’ cheer ya up?”

Pacifica wiped her eyes with her palm. What an offer... To think a year ago she would never had even considered walking around with the old kook as a possible option, but.. She found herself looking forward to it. “I… I would love that.”

[Part 1 of ??? possibly 2??]

[parkswritessometimes]

Why did you Save Me?

Egotober day 6: Doctor I promise the story is related to the prompt!

TW: Mentions of Suicde, hopstial, sucidal ideation, slighty relgious talk

a03 link

“Why did you save me?” Those were the first words Chase said since the incident. Seven full days of silence and anger. He refused to let anyone touch him, ripping his hand away from anyone who tried to touch it. He glared at every doctor and nurse that were just there to do their job. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be anywhere. He should have been dead. He wanted to be dead.

Thousands of words flurried through his head. None of them with a hint of kindness. Words of hostility towards those who saved his pathetic life, words of disgust towards himself, and words of sorrow for his friends. But in the end that one sentence kept coming back: “Why did Henrik save me?”

Chase watched as Henrik froze. He turned around to try and meet Chase’s gaze, but Chase’s eyes turned back to the itchy gray sheets he was draped in. He couldn’t meet Henrik’s eyes. He knew they would be filled with kindness and tears. Two things of billions Chase didn’t deserve. He deserved to be dead, a fitting punishment for the hell he had created for anyone who dared enter his life.

“Because I love you.” Henrik replied “And because I do not think you want to be dead. I think you want relief.” Chase swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing the guilt farther down. He hadn’t felt emotions in so, so, long, how dare the first emotion his brain muster up be guilt. He wanted to be angry at Henrik more than anything. How dare he save him when he deserved to die. Every God in the universe answered his prayers for relief with one answer: Death. The universe wanted him dead. How dare Henrik play with the Gods' will.

“I want to die, Henrik. Please just let me die. I can’t-I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.” Bile crept up Chase’s throat, burning his heart. He was exhausted. Feeling was too much. Thinking was too much. Breathing was too much. Existing was too fucking much.

All of Chase’s thoughts stopped as Henrik threw himself onto Chase, holding him tight. He couldn’t remember the last time someone gave him a hug. A beautiful genuine hug. His best guess was the last time he saw his kids, nearly eight months ago. The dam finally burst and the flood waters rose up to Chase’s eyes.

“Chase, Chase. I-I am sorry. I need you here. I need you here with me. I don’t care if that’s selfish. Let me be selfish, Chase Brody.” Soft, careful hands ran through his greasy unkempt hair. Every movement was delicate and calculated, designed to show how much Henrik loved his little brother. Chase grabbed Henrik’s coat with what little strength he had, burying his head into Henrik’s blue scrubs.

“I-I want this to stop. I want-Fuck, Henrik.” Chase sobbed. “I can’t-I can’t keep doing this. Please just-just make it stop. Make everything stop!”

Knowing, kind hands cradled his face, as a forehead rested against his own. Henrik’s breath smelled like cinnamon and tobacco, such a disgusting, beautiful, familiar scent. Chase closed his eyes as Henrik’s thumb dragged over his cheek. Hot silver tears rolled down Chase’s pale skin onto the horrid blankets.

“I will do my best. We-We will get you a therapist, the best in the country. And-And new medication! We will-We will get you anything you want, anything you need, it is yours.” Henrik breathed, wiping his own tears away. Chase nearly choked on his emotions. Anything. His brother would give him anything, would do anything just for him. If they thought that it would make him feel better, give him just a smidge of joy it would be his. He didn’t deserve these people in his life. He didn’t deserve their kindness.

“Henrik I-” Chase’s voice cracked. He broke Henrik’s heart, what on earth could he do to pick up the pieces? “I-I am so sorry. I am sorry. I’m sorry. Please, I can’t-I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you.”Chase scooted over as Henrik shifted his body next to him. Warm arms pulled him close to Henrik’s chest, as nibble fingers rearranged the wires. Chase clung to Henrik’s hips like it was the only thing keeping him safe from the coming storm.

“You-You need to learn how much you mean to me-to us, Chase Brody,” Henrik whispered after a few minutes of silence. Chase looked up at Henrik’s gray eyes, they were absolutely exhausted. Twelve days of Chase in a coma-like state, then another seven of silence and anger. There was only so much that the poor doctor could handle.

“I-I, Henrik-” Chase started. How on earth do you respond to that? He knew his brothers loved him, but love was conditional. You had to be perfect, you had to bury your emotions. Smiley Chase, happy Chase, that was worthy of love. Depression Chase, sad Chase, that was unloveable, deserved to be thrown onto the street.

“I know-“No. No, you don’t. We-We love you more than anything Chase. Jackie is almost always outside or out on the window watching over you. Marvin is in a cleaning and magic frenzy preparing for your return.”  Chase shot a glance to the window, silently hoping that Jackie was just right outside like Henrik said. He deserved an apology and a bone-crushing hug more than anyone in the world.

“He isn’t here” Henrik chuckled as Chase buried his head back into his chest. “I sent him home. Been outside that window or that door for so long now. He deserved a rest.” Chase nodded silently before readjusting his position. Jackie always overworked himself nowadays. He deserved the biggest, best nap the galaxy could give him. Hopefully, Marvin would give him the good blankets for once.

“Henrik?” Chase murmured, breaking the silence.

“Yes, Chase?” Henrik hummed back.

“Thank you, for giving me another chance.”

“Yes, well, that's what good doctors are for.”

“That’s what good brothers are for.”

prompt by: @tracobuttons

[plush-rabbit]

Oh My Baby, I Love You

Warnings: NSFW

Word Count: 4.6K

A/N: Did I take liberties with the things from the series like Kiri and Suneater?? Yes. Yes I did.

Toyomitsu Taishiro loves his work. He loves walking around and have people, more often than not kids, run up to him and ask for a picture, happy to see him and bouncing in their step when they gaze upon him. He enjoys the things that his work has brought. The good and the bad. The bright, smiling faces of the people he has saved and the angry, distorted faces of people who would commit such atrocities. He protects with everything he has, smiles wide and eyes determined. 

He’s rarely seen without his fat. Only using it in dire situations and once lost, always quick to eat and round in the belly that makes him appear soft and loveable but at the same time strong and willing to protect even if it truly does mean to use all he’s got.  

He has two kids he’s mentoring, Kirishima Eijiro, with a brilliant quirk who has the spirit of a hero, and Amajiki Tamaki, a boy who puts himself down before anyone else can but who is already as strong as a pro. He protected Kirishima, who allowed him to be able to take the shield down, who still didn’t recognize him since all his fat was used as an attack. He thinks that was the moment it clicked. When he went to check on the boy in the hospital, a tray of untouched food in one and a bag of treats in hand, he felt proud when the young child told him to sit and share, was listening with every fiber in his being as the child recounted the story of the night and how the hospital staff was kind. There was an odd sense in him that wanted to hug the child when he winced and pulled on a healing injury, who wanted to pet his hair and coo words of courage into his ear but he knew that it wouldn’t be seen as how he would have meant it. It would have been laughed off, perhaps, or maybe he would have delighted him in his role as a mentor, to allow him to pretend that he truly did have a child who was out protecting the city with the same fierce excitement that Kirishima has. 

On the trek back home, a bag of greasy food in one hand and mouth stuffed with french fries, he took notice of all the families he saw. He saw little children crying and sniffling as their parents kissed their scraped knees, smiling through the tears and nodding that they felt better. He saw children being carried on their parent’s shoulders, a tight grip on their ankles as the child screamed through fear and excitement. He saw with his two light golden eyes, families that stayed close together and smiled as they walked hand in hand, swinging their children through the air, hands intertwined as they watched the child play on the swingset in the park.

Food could no longer fill the void. This void was not his stomach, no it was worse than that. It hurt to think about it for too long, aching every time he saw a child, felt itself squeeze when he saw your sleeping form and placed a hand over your stomach hoping to feel a difference- hoping to feel a kick. 

He desperately wanted a child. Wanted a family with you. To come home and see you and a little bundle of wheat colored hair sleeping on your chest. Wanted you to swell with his love as the eldest ran up to him, ran up to his father, and showed him a picture they drew of him while he was away.

He thinks you want one as well. You’ve never voiced it but you let him please you without protection, without a quiet mumble to pull out and let you taste him on your tongue. No, instead you allow him to go deep in you, to feel your gummy walls clench around his member and wrap your legs around him when he pumps you full of his seed.

You gave him enough trust to have his way with you, to envelop you and fill you until you had begun to leak, covering it close with your hand but still having it drip and seep between your fingers.

He never tells you, a part of him is fearful that it would be too much and you would find it disgusting and another part knowing that what he already leaves in you is too much. But every  time he’s in the shower, with a tight grip around his already twitching cock, he’s never satisfied, he’s never filled you until he was content, until he was empty. He always pulls himself away, never wanting to hurt you and with enough self control to realize that perhaps you don’t want the life he wants. So instead he goes into the shower and bites down on his hand as he watches his cum flow down the drain. A thought always crossed his mind as knees trembled and breath slowly became steady: perhaps that’s why you weren’t getting pregnant- because he never did the full job. 

He stands in front of the door, key in hand and he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head and clicks open the door, his face brightening instantly as he smells your cooking. Eyes look around for a glimpse of you, thoughts that perhaps he doesn’t need a family to be happy, he already has you and you’re more than enough. But when he sees you in a frilly apron colored pink with a dark red heart in the middle of your chest those thoughts are quickly flushed away. You’d be the cutest little housewife. He could do his job, you can be at home with the children and at night he could fill you up all over again. He can feel his cock jerk at the thought of it. 

He knocks on the table and you startle. You look at him with wide eyes, posture stiff until you realize it’s just him. “I didn’t expect you back so soon,” your voice is calming and you smile at him before returning to stirring the meat on the skillet. “How is Kirishima doing? I was thinking I could bake something for him and you could take it over next time you go.” You’re so caring, so sweet to care about a child that you had never met before.

“He’s doing great! I’m sure he’ll be out by tomorrow or even tonight if he’s lucky.” He’s cheery when he talks about the students he’s mentoring. “How was your day?” Large hands wrap themselves around your waist and he places a kissing the space where your jaw meets your neck.

You lean towards him, feeling his body against your back and humming. “That’s good to hear,” you muse. “My day was fine, I just went shopping today and had lunch with some friends.” You crane your head and kiss his chin, smiling when he presses his face closer to yours. “Dinner should be ready in a few,” you mumble against his skin, placing one last kiss on him. 

He hums and with reluctant hands slipping off your waist, he goes to the bathroom to wash up. He splashes water on his face and looks at himself in the reflection, swiping a hand down and drops of water splash into the sink. The cold water on his skin does nothing to cool down his warming body. Hands inch down to wear his cock is straining against him, pressing into the cabinets. He lets out a shaky sigh and pulls himself away, shaking his head.

“Get it together,” he says to himself, grabbing a towel and wiping his face with it. “I can get through dinner with them and then we can go to bed.” His face burns at the thought of the bedroom, already picturing himself between your thighs. He hears his name called, muffled through the closed door and he nods, licking his lips and smoothing back his hair.

You’re setting down the plates, drinks already set and hair pulled back and you look up at him as he enters the dining room. “I tried a new recipe today,” you push a strand of hair behind your ear, “I hope it tastes good,” you give him a sheepish smile that makes him want to scoop you in his arms.

So he does. “I’m sure it will,” he mumbles against your neck, face nuzzling into you and hands pressed against your back.

“Someone missed me,” you chuckle, petting his hair and humming when he presses another kiss to you.

“Missed you like crazy.” He makes no intention to let go, pressing you closer against him and breathing you in,hands that slide down to the small of your back.

“Tai,” you whisper softly, fingers entangled in his hair, “our food is gonna get cold.”

He peels away from you and throws his head back as he walks to his plate. “I’m getting my fill later,” he says nonchalantly, grabbing a forkful of the dish you made.

“You always get your fill,” you tease, slipping into the seat across from him. 

He’s silent, eyebrows furrowed as he bites into his food, letting out a satisfactory hum. “Ish really good!” He exclaims, hand covering his mouth as he talks.

You smile widely at him, proud at the meal you cooked. Idle chatter began to fill the room, back and forth where he would comment on your day, little hums and nods to show he was still listening. You shook your head, stifling a smile as you recounted lunch with your friends, waving it off as an inside joke. You cleared your throat and turned your interest to him.“So what else did you do today? Were you with Kirishima all day?” You take a sip of your drink and look at him expectantly. 

“Oh no, not all day,” Taishiro says in between bites, “I took the long way home after I stopped by to get some food.”

“What did you get?”

“Just a burger and fries.” He pats his stomach and grins at you. “Gotta build up all that weight again.”

“If I had known that you wanted to fill up quickly, I would’ve made more than two servings.” You smile apologetically at him and lean back into your chair. “Sorry dear, guess I forgot.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he waves a hand towards you, taking the last bite out of his dinner. “I can always carbo load tomorrow.” He glances up at you and kicks your leg gently underneath the table. “If you want you can help me load up?” He feels his chest swell when you smile at him. “I always love your cooking.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. “Flattery will get you everywhere, you know that Taishiro.” He feels a chill run up his spine when you say his name and he leans forward to you. “How’s the other kid? Amajiki?”

“He’s doing great, you know? With his resolve and great power, he’s sure to be a top hero in no time!” He’s also so excited when he talks about them, standing straighter with a bigger grin on his face that shines so bright that it reminds you of the sun. 

“You’re always so passionate about those kids,” you smile, taking the last sip from your drink, “I’m sure when we have our kids, they’ll be great too.” You start to put your utensils on the plate, wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

Taishiro’s face falls and eyes go wide. He has a blank expression and he’s staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. “What?” He asks softy, barely above a whisper.

Your shoulders jump and your eyes go wide, the fork in your hand drops onto the porcelain plate and makes a high pitched chinking sound. You snap your neck up at him that it hurts, your mouth pressed into a thin line and heat rising onto your face. “I, um,” you trail off, “I have to go do the dishes!” You jump from your seat and reach across to grab his finished plate and scurry off to the sink.

He stares at your empty seat, his mind empty of all thoughts save for the sentence you had just said before you fled. You wanted kids too. Or at least it sounded as if you also wanted a family too. And then he didn’t respond to you. Oh no. He didn’t respond. The chair scrapes across the wooden floor and he walks swiftly in the kitchen where the water pressure is on high and your hands are covered in soap suds. 

“Um, can we talk?” He sounds nervous even to himself. His voice is strained and he feels uncomfortable staring at your back as you keep your head down. 

“Sorry can’t hear you!” You raise your voice comically. “Water is too high!” 

He snatches a dish towel off of the oven handle and presses his stomach against your back. The room is silent without the sound of rushing water. He can feel his heart beat against his chest and he wonders if you can hear it too. “I-”

“I’m sorry!” Your head is bowed down and he can see from the space between your hair that your ears are deep shade of red. “I was just talking out loud. I mean it’s silly. We’re not even married-”

“We can get married.” He interjects quickly and takes a small step back when you turn around. He brings his hand in between the both of you and hands you the dish towel. 

You take it with shaky fingers and twist it around your hand. “That’s,” you pause, “that’s not a funny joke Taishiro,” your eyebrows knit and you can’t make eye contact with him, keeping your gaze focused on the towel knotted in your hands. 

“‘S not a joke.” He clasps his hands over yours, fingers dipping into the towel and your own fingers flinch and coil tighter with the faux touch. “I really love you,” he licks his lips and bends down to look into your eyes. “I can get a ring soon and actually propose but this-” he gestures with a finger to you and him- “I  want to be with you.”

You nod slowly and chew on your bottom lip. He can see unshed tears brim. He releases his hands from your and brings his hands to cup your face, thumbs rubbing small circles into your soft skin. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

There’s a slight shudder in your chest and you take in a breath. Your cup on  his hands and turn your face, lips tickle his palm as you begin to speak. “I want kids, are-”

“Kids would be great. I want kids,” he has the desperate urge to hold you tight and never let go, “Kids now would be great.” When you turn to him sharply with eyes wide, he retracts. “Kids whenever you want would be great.”

“Taishiro,” you whisper and step into him, wrapping your arms around him as the decorative dish towel flutters onto the floor, “are you sure?” 

“I cum in you for a reason don’t I?” He jokes.

He laughs when he hears your offended gasp. “Taishi!” You playfully slap his arm and pull away, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I thought that was just a kink!”

The mood in the air is lighter, more playful, as he laughs and grabs your hands and presses your face into his chest, his laughter causing deep vibrations. “It is a kink! I swear!” He feels your knee thwack his. “I also want a family!” He pulls away from you and holds your face in his hands, hands reaching behind to undo your ponytail. Your hair falls into a fluff and thick fingers brush away at strands. “I want it all with you,” he smiles softly and presses his forehead against yours with closed eyes.

“Yeah, I want it all with you too,” you whisper. “Wait,” you straighten, eyes narrowed at him. “You came in for the kink or the family?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. His hands intertwine with yours as he leads you to the bedroom. “You let me cum in you.” He retorts.

“Yeah, cause it’s hot, if I had known you wanted to breed me I would’ve let you done it a lot sooner.”

He looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. “You wanted to be bred?” 

You huff and cross your arms, sitting on the bed with one leg crossed over the other. He can see bright red bloom down your neck. “Can we just-” you clear your throat and uncross your legs, fingers around the bottom edge of your shirt.

You look away from him and bite on your bottom lip. He steps forward and sits on his knees, hands placed firmly on your knees. “You need to tell me what you want, sweetheart.” His voice is lowered and he looks at you with all seriousness, eyes clouded and hazed over.

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Taishiro,” you coo, two fingers coming to lift his chin, “please, I want you to breed me. I want to start a family with you.”

-

There’s a deep silence for a moment, one where you are more exposed than you’ve ever felt before, one where it’s just you two alone, no external factors that could ever ruin this moment. It’s a moment that weighs so heavily, like a comforting blanket and then it’s ripped away as quick as it was brought.

His mouth is on yours, hands that collide with each other as they travel lower and rise, mouths breaking apart for a quick gulp of air. Exposed skin that bumps with the chilled air, hands that warm the chill away, fingertips that ghost over bellies and rising chests. You forget where you start and end, only feeling his mouth against yours, your fingers knotted into his hair and you can feel him grin against you, your own grin coming into shine.

Your back meets the bed, giggling as you pull away, your lips chasing his, eyes clouded with lust. He snickers and starts to pepper kisses down to your neck, hands slide their way up to your breasts, nipples pinched in between soft fingers, rolling the hardening buds around, soft gasps escape from your mouth and you can feel heat begin to bubble in your lower belly. 

His mouth leaves wet marks as he travels down, bright red love bites are left in his wake. Hands slide down your body; he grabs your hips with fingertips digging into your hips and you can feel hot breath against your heat, moistening the inner parts of your thighs. His lips trial up your thighs, lingering kisses that stick against your thigh, a tongue that swipes against your burning skin and with his lips that cover your slick ones, mouth wrapping around your clit, tongue pressing flat against it, moving the sensitive bud around, the hands twisted around his hair tightens and pulls him closer against your wanting heat. He mumbles softly into your skin, telling you to be patient. His lips release from your aching bud, his tongue rims around your entrance, pushing forward and tasting your sweet nectar, his tongue pushing and brushing against your gooey walls, your arousal staining his face as he breathes in your scent. 

You cry out, muffling your moans with the back of your hand, his hair ruffled and sticking up. There’s a slight hump in your hips when his fingers intrude upon your walls, your slick coating them as they pump in, rubbing along your walls, pressing down on your walls, little whimpers of pleasure sounding out. 

“You know,” his voice has taken a slightly darker tone, “I won’t let you come so easily this time.” He looks at you, eyes half lidded and voice heavily laced with lust. 

“Don’t-Don’t be such a tease Taishiro,” you say through gritted teeth. 

He moves his mouth closer to you, his chuckling sends waves of vibrations deep into your core. The  fingertips against your skin, dip into your skin, nails dragging and creating little red marks sink into your plush skin. 

He moves his mouth away from your throbbing heat, his chin glistens with arousal, his cock is standing at full length, bouncing as he crawls forward and captures you in a kiss, moaning when your tongue swipes across his bottom lip, tongue brushing against his, your kisses sloppy and lazy compared to his harsh ones that press deep into your skin, chest that ghosts over your own. 

He hisses and eyes shut tight when your hand wraps around his member. Fingers that spread wide before closing in on the gaps, your thumb brushing against the slit, pre-cum coats your thumb and you drag the self-made lubricant across his cock, your hand squeezing around him, pumping slowly as he hides his face into your shoulder, mouth wide open, moistening your skin.

It’s known to the world that with his quirk, he is able to expand. His body expands to what he eats- that includes his entire body. A cock that stretches you wide and makes you feel as if you’re being torn apart, filled until the tip bulges in your stomach, lewd sounds coming from you while he fills you with his seed. As his body regains fat, every part will expand proportionally, widen and  grow until it’s limit. And as he tries to regain his absorption, he’s currently bigger than average, making your hands seem small against him. 

“Taishiro,” you coo, your face flushed and mouth watering, “please,” you whisper and thrust your hips, moaning when his cock head brushes against your clit. 

“Say what you want me to do, buttercup,” he bites your neck and soothes it with his tongue when you hiss. “I want to hear ya say it.” He presses kisses under your chin, your free hand claws up on the bedsheets and shakily rising to grip his bicep.

“I-” you clear your throat and take in a deep breath, looking deep into his light golden eyes- “want you to breed me Taishiro. I want you to fill me with your cum.” In your hand, you feel your get covered in his leaking arousal.

He presses a kiss on your lips, your bottom lip turning a bright red and he places his hand over yours, leading his cock to brush against your sopping entrance. There’s a harmonious groan that comes out of both of you as he enters you, his cock pushing through your gooey walls, expanding inside of you, your walls molding around to fit his shape.

“You’re still so tight around me,” he chuckles breathlessly, “ah, I’m gonna fill you up, you know.” His grin is wide and wavers ever so slightly to moan as you thrust your hips upwards, face scrunching in a mixture of pleasure and pain for you. 

Your hands go and grasp his face, watching him intently with lips slightly parted and face a sinful shade of red. “Yes, Tai-Taishiro, breed me,” your face scrunches in pleasure and hands fall from his face, he grasps a hand and brings it back to his face, turning his head and pressing a quick kiss the open palm of your hand, “I want a family with you, I want it all with you,” you whine, closing your eyes and arching your back when he hits deep inside of you, walls pulsing around him and coating him in your slick.

“You're going to be so beautiful,” he can feel his eyes get glassy, shining with tears of joy, “I’m going to take such good care of all of you.” His head dips down and he lets out a strangled groan, breathing roughly.

Already so close to reaching his high, he starts to ramble, his lips pulled into a shaky smile, “I’m already so close, heh,” he grins at you sheepishly, “you do this to me. Just by saying you want a family with me,” he buries his face into your neck and lets out a whine, '' I'm so lucky,” he breathes out.

“Taishiro,” you wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his soft flesh and pushing him closer to you, “I can feel myself about to cum,” you mewl, the tight build up in your stomach becoming too much with pressure.

“You’re going to be such a good parent. Y-You and me both. You’re going to be so gorgeous, so fucking st-stunning. Fuck,” he lets out a good, choked cry, eyes brimming with tears. “Your breasts are going to be full of milk, swollen and leaking, just like your pretty, little cunt,” his hips shudder against yours, cock beginning to leak with his cum.

Your gummy walls encass his hard member, wet, slick noises come out of you with every pump, muffled whimpers into each other's skin as you hiss with thrust, your arousal leaking out and dripping down your thighs.

You cry against him, face scrunching as your own high approaches. You move a hand down to your hidden pearl, gasping when you begin to massage it, little shock of pleasure adding to the tension building in your lower belly. “I’m gonna be your little housewife,” you whimper, “I’ll be so good,” you swear, there’s a rough drag against your forearm as you pleasure yourself, fingers trying to keep the steady pace you set for yourself.

White stains your lips and the bedsheets underneath, his leg jittering as he continues to pump himself in you, cum has begun to overflow and through glossy eyes, he thinks he can make out your swelling belly filled with his cum. “You’ll be such a good mother,” he leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, a tear slipping out and staining his face, “I get to come home to you and-” a hand comes down to rub your belly, the extra weight causing cum to spill out of you- “we get to be a family.” Ecstasy courses through his body, cock twitching as cum sputters out.

With those words leaving his mouth, the tight coil snaps and your legs press against him tightly before falling to a limp, the hand lost between your sweating body falls to the side. Your mouth is open into a low moan, face pinched into an “O” shape with your head thrown back. Your high leaves you feeling as if you’re on pins and needles, whole body shaking and the slow pumping of Taishiro leaves you quivering. Your hand comes to cover your blushing face, a dazed smile spreading onto your face.

He pulls out of you with a wet squelching hand and a blind hand searches to cover up your leaking entrance, the cum seeping out in between your fingers, letting out a whine and kicking your heels in the bed sheets.

“It should stick.” The bed groans under his weight as he collapses, chest sinking heavily. “Gave it my all,” he smiles, shaky hands pulling your body close to him.

“‘S a lot more than usual,” you mumble against his skin, you feel fingers brush away the hair that sticks to your face, running fingers down your hair. “Were you holding out on me this whole time?” You ask teasingly, lips quirking into a half-hearted smile.

“Promise not to do it again,” he whispers, legs tangling into yours and arms loosening as you shift in his grasp. “I love you,” he breathes, craning his neck back to watch your already droopy eyelids and deep breathing rising from your chest.

“Love you too,” you mumble with eyes closed while a heavy hand searches for the covers.

He mumbles against your skin and with aching legs, he covers the two of you, complaining about laundry tomorrow, you give him a weak laugh and pull him close with beckoning fingers.