#unlucky x black cat

[choose-wiselyyy]

just some people :D

[muddyorbsblr]

onyx pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: You're stuck in the Avengers Compound because of an injury from your last mission, and you come across an adorable and affectionate little kitten.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: language (no i'm not sorry, Rogers); talks of explosions and injuries sustained from explosion [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: one-sided crushing (but is it really…?)

An eerie silence served as your only company in the Avengers Compound the last few days, some of your teammates off to finish the HYDRA mission that left you injured while the others took time off to visit their families over the holidays. With the promise to keep their comms on in case they would be needed until the New Year.

Now all that remained in the Compound with you were a few junior agents that drew the ends of the short stick, Val, and Loki.

Sadly your teammate, friend, and occasional drinking buddy Val was out blissfully spreading holiday cheer throughout New York with her girlfriend.

And Loki? Well, the God of Mischief wasn't exactly on chummy terms with you. Didn't even so much as give you a passing glance when you were at mission briefings.

Which was a damn shame because what you would give just to get lost in those stormy ocean eyes.

You made your way to the pantry in the common room to replenish your stash of snacks, towing along a little wagon to help you on the way back. Every step had you feeling every square inch of bruising on the left side of your body that you got from being unlucky enough to be caught in the blast radius of an explosion at the HYDRA base you were trying to infiltrate with Shaun just a few days ago.

Your phone buzzed with a new message. "Speak of the devil," you muttered to yourself, seeing Xu's name on your screen as soon as you pulled up next to the elaborate barista setup, putting a few Lindor truffles in a small bag for your wagon. "Hey FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Agent Y/L/N?" the AI answered immediately.

"Could you make me a white chocolate mocha with peppermint while I raid the latest Costco delivery for uhh…supplies. Yeah, I'll go with that."

"Right away, Agent Y/L/N." The sound of the barista setup whirring to life filled the kitchen area as you checked on Shaun's message.

Thor just mentioned that he'll ask his brother to take a look at your injuries. Maybe get him to kiss it all better. He finished his text with a smirking emoji, along with some hand gestures that painted a less than family friendly picture, making you roll your eyes at the screen.

You recorded a voice memo for him. "You know that he'd need to actually be willing to look at me so that he could see the damage from the blast, right? And last I checked I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm Medusa reincarnated and I'll turn his Asgardian ass to stone."

You went on to the ridiculously stocked pantry to rummage the delivery that came just a few hours ago, trying to find a bag of Jalapeño Cheetos somewhere in the mix, when you heard a tiny meow from somewhere behind you. You looked to the ground to find a black and white munchkin cat looking up at you with wide blue eyes.

"Hi there, baby…" you cooed, surprised the adorable little creature hadn't hissed or scratched at you yet. Cats normally didn't take to you, which was a shame because you often found yourself fighting the urge to pick one up or stroke its head whenever you crossed paths with one during your errand runs. "How'd you get in here?"

The tiny kitten caught you by surprise with what it did next, walking up to your feet and proceeding to rub its cheek against your ankle, a little purr emanating from its small fluffy body. You decided to risk the hissing and scratching and bent down to pick it up, your heart melting once he placed his paws on your cheek and proceeded to nuzzle your face with his nose.

"Aren't you a complete darling." He settled into your arm as you carried him out of the pantry, a little whine escaping him when you placed him down on the counter. He stood on his hind legs and made grabby hands towards you, blue eyes wide and pleading for you to pick him back up. "Just a second, sweet baby, I'm just getting you something to drink."

You took out a tiny sauce dish and poured some cream into it, pushing it toward the kitten that responded with a slow blink and a meow before licking away at the rich liquid.

"I'm sure your owner's gonna crucify me for giving you that but I can't help spoiling little fur babies especially when they're as adorable as you are." You took a sip of the coffee FRIDAY had finished making before shouting out a question for her. "Hey FRIDAY, you have any clue who this little bub belongs to?"

It took a second for her to answer. "Negative, Agent Y/L/N. There is currently no other agent on the premises looking for their pet. I also see no collar on them and from a preliminary scan they do not seem to have a microchip on them."

Those words stopped the kitten from drinking to look up toward the ceiling and hiss at the source of the voice. He only relaxed once you started stroking his fur again, going back to drinking and letting out a few purrs along the way. "No owner, huh? Does that mean I can invoke Finders Keepers then?"

"It appears so, Agent Y/L/N. What would be your new companion's name?"

The kitten looked up at you, as if expecting your answer. You wondered briefly if he could actually understand what it was that you and FRIDAY were talking about. "How about Onyx? I know I know it's absolute garbage for originality to name a black cat after a black gemstone but--"

His eyes widened before he climbed up your arm, only stopping once he'd reached your shoulder to nuzzle at your neck again. "It seems he likes the name, Agent Y/L/N."

"Then it's settled." You placed a soft kiss on top of his head. "Hello there, Onyx."

You brought your new kitten back to your apartment, setting him down on your bed while you tried to take off your sweatshirt as gently as you could manage.

"Ah, fuck it," you hissed as you felt the bruising around your ribs, letting out a pained sound when you opted to whip the garment over your head as fast as you could instead. Your reflection revealed that the bruising on the left side of your torso was quickly becoming a frightening deep purple.

Onyx meowed from your bed, again standing on his back legs and making grabby hands at you, eyes wide with evident pain.

"What's wrong, little baby?" He placed his paws gently on your side when you made your way to him, pressing his nose to the skin near where your bruising began. "Oh don't you worry your pretty little head about those, sweetie. They'll heal…eventually."

He kept on pressing his face to the area, your heart melting for the tiny kitten even more realizing that he was pressing kisses to your wounds.

"You really are such a precious little bub, aren't you?" You picked your new kitten up, placing him on the armchair in your reading nook before setting an alarm for dinner in a few hours and settling into your bed. "Get some sleep, sweet baby Onyx. I'll see you in a few hours."

Your eyes had only closed for a few seconds before you heard another tiny meow followed by a soft thud, immediately making you sit up on the bed looking for the kitten. He'd already made his way to your bedside, standing on his back legs and reaching up trying to climb up the sheets.

"Alrighty then," you mumbled, picking him up and placing him on the pillow beside yours. You rolled over to lay on your right side to remove any pressure to your injuries the best you could, hovering your finger near Onyx's nose once you'd settled in. He leaned up and pressed his nose to your finger, paws kneading on his pillow. "Boop," you giggled. "Sweet dreams, baby."

Just as you'd closed your eyes to try catching an hour or two of rest before you had to eat again and take those pain meds that Banner prescribed you, your phone began to blare Immigrant Song way too loudly by your nightstand. There were only two contacts you gave that ringtone to and one of them was currently out with her girlfriend.

"Talk to me, Thunder," you muttered, groaning when your stretch to reach for your phone made your bruising smart a bit. "You all good over there?"

"Absolutely grand, Lady Y/N," the blond god's voice boomed from the other end. "I was just wondering if you could check on my brother, he refuses to answer his phone yet again."

"That's gonna be a hard pass from me, buddy. I've already been cut and bruised, I'm not too keen to add stabbed to that list. He's probably just practicing spells. Or out on a date." You winced at that last part, an irrational part of you flaring up with unwarranted jealousy at the thought of Loki out with just about anyone. "Just--I don't know, check up on him yourself when you get back. You can take a stab better than me anyways."

Thor sighed loudly, the low rumbling making Onyx step back from his pillow and start hissing at the phone. You stroked the top of his head to calm him down. "Very well then, Lady Y/N. Rest well. We're scheduled to return after nightfall."

"I'll have pizza here waiting for you guys. Bring your own mead." You clicked off and tried to get some sleep, having FRIDAY place an order for pizzas and wings for when the team gets back. Your new kitten padded his way over to you, resting his head on your outstretched arm and letting out a soft purr.

The sound of the Quinjet coming back roused you from your nap, along with the feel of little paws on your arm and Onyx nuzzling your cheek.

"Looks like everyone's home," you mumbled, pressing a few kisses to the kitten's head before making your way out of bed. "Come on, little baby. Time to meet the team."

With a whole lot of discomfort and groaning, you slipped your sweatshirt back on before presenting your hand to Onyx and patting your shoulder, prompting the kitten to climb up your arm and perch himself on the spot, nuzzling his face behind your ear.

The team had already arrived and filled the common area when you made your way there, some of them helping themselves to the pizza. Barnes and Wilson walked in with coolers, probably filled with chilled bottles of beer inside.

"Hey, there she is!" Shaun exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of Pepsi before making his way over to you and pulling you into an embrace. "How's the healing go--Whoa there." He took a step back as Onyx hissed in his direction. "Where'd you come from, little guy?"

You shh'd the kitten, pressing kisses to his little cheek to calm him down. "It's okay, baby, Shaun is a friend. One of the good guys." You turned back to your mission partner. "Shaun, this is Onyx."

"Always thought you were a dog person, Babes," Natasha spoke up before taking your arm and walking you to the food. "We leave for one day and you become a cat lady. Where'd you even find the time to go to a shelter and get baby blue eyes over here?"

"I didn't, actually," you answered the master assassin. "I just went to the pantry and poof there he was, meowing at my feet. Like the cat distribution system mailed him to me by magic or something." He nuzzled your cheek again before starting to knead at your face.

"And he doesn't belong to anyone? You're sure?" Shaun spoke up, backing up immediately when he tried to pet your new kitten and getting hissed at. "Easy, kitty. I'm a friend, I'm not gonna hurt you." The martial artist turned back to you. "He wasn't collared? Or chipped?"

"Nope. FRIDAY scanned him and everything."

"You wanna think about getting him chipped?"

Onyx hissed again at the question before swishing his tail around to curtain your hair around him, his little body shaking on your shoulder. As if he was silently pleading for you to not take him out to have him chipped.

"Don't you worry, baby. I won't get you chipped, I wouldn't hurt you like that," you cooed, letting out a little giggle as he placed his paws on your cheeks and nuzzled your nose, giving the tip tiny licks. You were so focused on your cat's affections that the bellowing of Thor looking for his brother was a distant muffled noise in the background.

Until he got to where you were standing and his booming voice was impossible to ignore. "What an adorable little beast you have, with you, Lady Y/N." Onyx buried himself in the crook of your neck, shaking at the sound of Thor's voice.

"It's alright, Onyx. It's just Thunder, he may be all big and menacing on the outside but he's just a fluff ball on the inside. Come on, go say hi."

The blond Asgardian approached you, examining your new pet carefully before a knowing grin graced his bearded face. "Hello, Brother."

A chill went down your spine at his words. "What the fuck d'you just say, Blondie?"

He motioned toward the kitten on your shoulder. "This is the explanation for his lack of replies on his phone. His absence from his quarters. Lady Y/N, the little beast hiding himself in your hair…is my brother. That is Loki."

In your stupor, the only words you could manage to say were, "Bitch what?!"

A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to the members of SAS, beloved besties, and fellow whores! I've had this idea doing a slow lurky crawl in the microwave that is my writing noggin for the last few months, and I'm so excited that I finally get to share it with y'all! Part 2 is coming in a few days, and then it's a coin toss on whether I'll be trying to end the year with crossing off some things on my writing todo list, or crossing off some titles from my Tumblr TBR 😳👀

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

[i-wanna-write]

Stupid Plan - Billy Butcher x Reader

Prompt: You hate Billy Butcher and you hate his stupid plans.

Wanting: 18+ ONLY. SMUT. Rough Smut. Choking. Mention of strangulation. It’s The Boys guys. Swearing. Lots of use of the word fuck. Some use of cunt. Mentions of blood and gore - again, it’s the Boys

Word Count: 3130

Disclaimer: I find all pics off google! This is the first ever Smut I’ve written. I’m so sorry if it’s trash!

————————————————————————

You hated Billy Butcher with every fiber of your being starting with the first moment met him. When you first met him all those years ago it was like mixing oil with water. Your boss at the CIA partnered the two of you together and you wanted to kill yourself then and there. Years of working with the foul-mouthed borderline rogue agent only further fueled your mutual hatred for one another.

You hated how he always called the shots and barely listened to your input when it came to planning. You hated how he was a shoot first ask questions later type of partner. You hated how his vulgar language never stopped even when talking to his superiors. Most of all, you hated how attracted to him you were.

Chocolate brown eyes, jet black hair, jaw scribbled with facial hair. His broad shoulders meant for gripping onto and an ass meant for grabbing.

You really hated him.

When he reached out to you years after leaving the CIA, you laughed in his face when he asked you to join him in taking down Supes. But his serious face didn’t falter and your laughing quickly stopped, now cursing yourself for hearing him out.

Not only did he rope you into this rag tag team, but he got Frenchie and M.M to join too. As well as baby face Hughie who just had an unlucky hand dealt to him.

That’s how you find yourself now, fuming in a silent car sandwiched between Frenchie and Hughie on your way to your underground hideout. Butcher is driving, M.M in the passenger's seat. The Frenchman has the window cracked with a cigarette hanging between his teeth while Hughie bounces his knee up and down in anxiety.

You can only imagine the tight grip Butcher has on the steering wheel. The thoughts of anger going through his head. His plan was a stupid one and you called him on that the minute he proposed the idea. But one dark look from him had you shutting up and rolling your eyes, going along with the stupid plan with the other boys.

Emphasis on stupid plan.

Your goal was to attend a Supes charity event to follow the lead on a Supe dealing Compound V. Rumor was that he was going to make a big appearance and donate a shit ton of money to the charity, allowing him to gain more favors with the public as he wanted to join the Seven.

That’s when the stupid plan started. Butcher had you and Frenchie pretend to be married, which was the first stupid idea he pitched. The Frenchman is your best friend but the two of you work together on missions as well as a cat and a dog. He gets too easily excited at the smallest bit of action while you always go into things level headed.

You two were dressed to impress, Frenchie in an expensive suit and yourself in a revealing cocktail dress. While the two of you were to mingle and pick up comments of where the guest of honor would be, the other three boys were to be scouting the hotel rooms looking for him based on the information you gathered.

So, with the first stupid idea being you pretending to be married to Frenchie, the second was the revealing dress. Because the guest of honor wasn’t out preparing in his hotel room. No, he was mingling with the crowd when his eyes landed on you.

You told Butcher that you being on the floor was not a good idea. That you were the exact type of woman this man was accused of fraternizing with. But did he listen? No. You felt like you were reliving your CIA days - half cocked plans, shoot first, questions later, deal with whatever mess you caused later.

You had to use the restroom and informed Frenchie you’d be back in a moment. The Frenchman merely nodded, turning his attention back to those around him. Another reason why you two should never be partners in this sort of thing. Because any other partner would have gone with you but Frenchie just gets too excited in these sorts of things.

That’s how you found yourself, alone and cornered in the women’s bathroom, the guest of honor not letting you escape. You whispered into your com to tell the boys, Butcher telling you to stall, that they’ll be there soon. You learned not to rely on Butcher early on

So when the boys entered the women’s room to find you covered in blood, the back of a toilet seat in hand, to say Butcher was pissed was an understatement. The Supe made one to many advances, not catching the hint. He backed you into a stall and the two of you began to fight, him eventually encircling his hands around your neck. Reaching for the only thing you could grab, you found the back of the toilet seat and bashed his head in, repeatedly

“I told you it was a stupid plan.” You said to Butcher, dropping the seat cover and stepping over the body to leave the restroom and head to the car

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car door being slammed and look up to see that you’re back to the hideout, Butcher already having exited. You sigh and get out on the same side as Frenchie, closing the door behind you.

“Dumbing fucking cunt.” Butcher mumbles as you five enter the hideout.

You roll your eyes and push pass everyone to enter the bathroom, needing to get the Supes’ blood off of you. You close the door behind you and stand in front of the mirror, looking at yourself.

Your face is speckled with blood and your eye is starting to bruise, purple peeking out through your naturally tan skin. Your hair that was once in a neat pulled back high pony is frizzy, strands falling out to frame your face. You notice light purple marks already beginning to form on your neck, showing signs of the strangulation you endured only an hour ago.

Clenching your fists, you turn on the water, steam rising to the mirror. You place your hands under it and scrub, wanting your blood and the Supes gone.

“Fucking Butcher.” You mumble to yourself. “Fucking stupid fucking plan.”

“Well maybe you should fucking listen for a change, aye?” A British voice says from your right.

You jump and turn towards the voice, seeing the large frame of one Billy Butcher in the bathroom, door shut behind him. You shut off the water and then turn towards him. His face his angry, his arms at his sides as you watch him clench and unclench his fists.

You let you a chuckle. “Me listen for a change?” You ask incredulously as you throw you hands up in the air. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“Is it?” He asks, cocking his head to his side and bearing his teeth. “How’s that now?”

“Your fucking plan was fucking stupid to begin with and I. Told. You. That.” You take a step forward and point a finger into his chest to emphasize the last point.

“What’s stupid is you going of on your fucking own and being dumb enough to get fucking cornered by the fucking Supe.” Butcher yells back, smacking your hand away from his body.

“It was your genius idea to have Frenchie and I go in together - which I advised against!” You yell back just as loud.

Yelling feels good. The past months of putting up with Billy Butcher and his always right complex has finally taken its toll on you. You could put up with him in the CIA, really you could. There your goal was mutual and laid out in front of you. But now, now Butcher only seems to have his own agenda and never shares it with anyone.

“It was your brilliant idea to have me go in! When I fucking told you it was a bad. Fucking. Idea!” You scream.

“Well it was your brilliant idea to fucking bash the cunts head in, losing our lead on Compound V!”

Butcher's face is in yours, so close you can feel his breath against your lips. So badly do you want to punch the asshole. In fact, you want to take the back of this toilet off and bash his head in. Maybe than his plans won’t be as stupid as this one.

“You know what?” You ask, raising your hands in surrender. “I’m done.”

You move past Butcher, wanting to leave the bathroom, leave the hideout, leave this rag tag team. Your hand is on the door and opens it about 2 inches before it’s slammed shut. You feel Butcher’s body behind yours, his hand on the right side by your face.

“No.” He says gruffly, turning you around so you’re now facing him, back pressed against the door. “You’re done, when I say you’re done.”

You have had it. He’s been walking over the four of you for months and you’re done. It’s always his idea, his plans, his reasoning. Not anymore. Fuck this. Fuck the team. Fuck the Supes. And most importantly, fuck Billy Butcher.

“You know what? Fuck yo-“

You’re cut off by Butcher’s lips slamming into yours, his body pressing against you to pin you between him and the door. His lips move roughly, tasting of whiskey he probably took a swig of before following you in here.

You immediately respond, kissing back just as hard. Your lips move sloppily together, both of you so angry at the other you want the kiss to hurt. His hands are placed on your hips, gripping tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. You bring your hands up to his hair and yank hard, wanting to do the same damage back.

He tongue pries open your mouth and immediately finds yours, tracing over it. You give back the same intensity he is, using your mouth to fight him since your arms physically can’t. An idea forms in your head and you pull away slightly, grabbing his bottom lip between your teeth and biting down. Hard.

Butcher immediately pulls away and you use the opportunity to catch your breath. Your chest heaves up and down and your body is warm, you’re positive your flushed. Butcher looks the same, his breath coming out in pants, cheeks red, hair going in all different directions.

“Did you just fucking bite me,” he asks, his hand going up to his mouth to check for blood.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking cunt I would’ve been gentler.” You goad him.

You watch as his eyes darken and he’s immediately on you again, lips on yours. This time his hands are on your ass and he pushes up, signally what he wants you to do. Your arms grip his shoulders as you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Butcher immediately pins you back against the door and you pull away to gasp as you feel his hard cock against between your legs. Heat immediately rushes to your core and you shift slightly so it hits the right spot, brushing against your clit.

“Fuck Butcher.” You moan, hands moving down his body to reach the bottom of his shirt, wanting it off.

His hips press against you harder, causing you to throw your head back against the door. You watch through heavy eyelids as he removes his shirt in one go before finding your lips again. You didn’t even get the chance to admire his shirtless body, his hands tightly squeezing your ass as your own grip onto his shoulders.

You feel yourself begin to move and pull away to watch as he carries you a short distance to the sink, placing you atop it. He shoots you a quick grin before pulling at your dress, sliding it down your shoulders before his lips attach to your neck, trailing down.

“Ahhh.” Escapes you as he begins to suck on your pulse point, your hips bucking to once again feel his hard cock beneath his jeans against you.

He sucks harshly before biting down, his tongue then swirling along the mark that will be there tomorrow. While starting a new mark, his hands further pull down your dress, freeing your boobs from their constraints. Both hands grab them, fitting perfectly in his hands as he squeezes roughly.

“Fuck sweetheart, your breasts are magnificent.” Butcher mumbles against your neck before traveling lower.

His lips find one of your nipples, sucking and biting causing you to scrape your nails up his back and latch onto his shoulders. A sensation shoots down your body to your core and you buck your hips again, wishing his jeans were gone and he was already inside of you. One hand finds your free breast and squeezes the nipple tightly, another moan escaping you.

Sweat beads on your skin as his mouth switches its attention to your other nipple, his hand venturing further south before it meets your thigh. He bunches your dress up so it’s now only wrapped around your waist and presses a hand against your mound.

“Oh my God.” You groan as he pinches your clit, another sensation moving through your body.

“No underwear aye sweetheart?” Butcher starts, pulling away to look in your eyes. “If I knew you wanted me that bad all you had to do was ask.”

You roll your eyes. “Fuck yo-“

But Butcher cuts you off again, this time because of his finger entering you. His thick digit moves in and out slowly, your core so wet it can easily slide. You slide one of your hands down to the front of his jeans, blindly searching for his button and zipper.

You feel his other hand touch yours, helping you get his cock free. You pull his jeans down just enough for it to escape and immediately grab it, noting how your whole hand can’t fit all the way around.

“Ah Fuck.” Butcher groans, his hips rocking to allow his cock to slide through your enclosed hand.

He adds a second finger and you throw your head back, eyes closed. He starts to set a pace and you try to follow it with your hand on his cock, your hips slightly rocking to the motion. His fingers curl up, finding the spot you desperately needed him to find.

“Fuck Butcher.” You gasp, your hips starting to increase their pace.

Only he immediately pulls his fingers out of you.

You open your eyes and begin to lift your head but stop as a hand wraps around your neck. Your body tenses, your gaze meets Butchers. His eyes are dark, face flushed and sweat coating his skin.

“You say my name when I’m inside of you.” He states, his grip tightening slightly to emphasize the demand before loosening.

You can only nod and that’s enough for him as he guides his cock into you. You gasp at the intrusion, his two fingers not even coming close to the size of his cock. You feel it stretching your walls and try to take in air as it touches every crevice inside of you.

Billy doesn’t give you time to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out before ramming back into you. You feel slight pain at the repeated intrusion but it quickly turns into only pleasure as he sets a fast and rough pace. His hand doesn’t leave your neck, his other tightly gripping your hip to hold you in place. Both of your hands grab onto his shoulders, squeezing tightly, nails digging into them again.

“Fuck Billy. Fuck.” You say as his cock reaches a deep place inside of you.

“How’s tha’ sweetheart?” He asks, his lips attacking your neck in kisses and bites. “This why you’re always such a bitch? Huh? Needed me to fuck that attitude out of you?”

You don’t respond. Instead, you move your hands to his head, guiding his lips to yours. You move just as roughly as before, teeth clashing and tongues dancing as you both try to fuck the fight out of each other.

Billy’s hand on your neck slides down to reach your clit, rubbing your juices over it. You pull your mouth away, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

“Fuck that. Look at me.” Billy starts, his hand leaving your clit to grab your chin roughly. “Look at this.” He guides your head down, your eyes watching as his cock exits and enters you, coated with your juices. “Look at how wet you are for me. How good my cock makes you feel. You like tha’ sweetheart?”

You nod, looking back up to meet his gaze, his brown eyes so dark they appear black. His hand returns to rub your clit and you stare into each other's eyes as the sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your panting breaths fill the room.

“Billy. I’m- I’m close.” You tell him, feeling that familiar sensation creep deep into your stomach.

Billy’s response isn’t verbal but you know he’s heard you as his pace picks up and he rubs your clit harder. You moan a little louder causing Billy to kiss you again.

“Don’t want the boys to have dinner and a show aye.” He grins as he pulls away.

His hips continue to snap, his cock sliding out of you only to hammer back in, hitting the deep part of you repeatedly. Your core begins to tighten and you squeeze your eyes shut as the familiar feeling starts to take over.

“Fuck, Billy. Shit. Billy.” You chant, the feeling now taking over.

Your eyes remain closed as your body tenses and you feel yourself come undone. Your channel squeezes his cock as it continues to move in and out of you, Billy not stopping as you ride your high. You hands latch onto his neck and you pull him back to a kiss as the feeling slowly begins to die down.

Billy feels you unclench and pulls out, his mouth still connected to yours as his hands pump himself once, twice, before he releases a groan against your lip as he cums onto your dress and stomach.

“Fuck sweetheart.” Billy says as he pulls away from your lips.

He leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, both of you panting as you come down from your highs.

“It was still a stupid plan.” You whisper to him, a small smile on your lips.

Billy just gives a disbelieved laugh before leaning down to kiss you once more.

If all his stupid plans of the past ended like this, maybe you wouldn’t hate him as much as you do.

[leahsgirl]

star girl | lucy bronze x reader

based off the request ‘maybe one with Lucy, that the r scores in the euros final like the winning goal’. let’s imagine it’s the 23’ world cup final again and leah + beth never tore their acl’s xx

—

It’s safe to say tensions were high in the locker room as you and your fellow England teammates prepared for one of the biggest matches of your careers. Sarina had opted for the same line-up that secured your team the european championship a year prior, just a few changes here and there.

Yourself was on the bench as a substitute, however, it didn’t make the experience any less nerve-wracking. Double knotting the laces on your boot, you walked over to a familiar brunette.

“it’s totally normal to feel sick to my stomach right?” She chuckles, as if she isn’t about to go out to a crowd of 75,000+ people. “The life of a footballer love.”

“How have you played three world cups? I feel like a heart attack is going to hit me any minute.” Sitting next to her, she squeezes your hand and kisses your temple. “Calmer?” The older girl asks. “Calmer.” You confirm, leaning your head on her shoulder for a brief minute.

You would describe your relationship with Lucy very much black cat x golden retriever; while you was often energetic and switching through emotions like tv channels, lucy was the opposite. While she liked to have fun and be sarcastic and all, she was actually a very chill person who would just go with the flow.

Lucy and you had been dating for just over a year and a half with only close friends and family knowing. You’d be lying if you had your doubts if the both of you would even last - with Lucy playing in Barcelona and you for your childhood club Manchester United, but you stuck it out and recently just bought your first place together.

It was 7:45pm over in Sydney Australia, both opposing teams beginning to line up next to each other in the tunnel. You and the other substitutes were to come out after the starting players. You prayed to God you could come away with a win tonight - you knew how hard each and everyone of you worked and to win the world cup would just be the cherry on top to an undefeated championship run youse had going.

Walking out, it all suddenly got very real. The cheers from the crowd made you smile as you took your seat.

The referee blew her whistle; it was go time. You watched the game intensely, weighing up the stats of your team and the opposing team. Spain was playing good and the nerves in your stomach were intensifying with each passing second.

“Oh shit look!” Ella pointed over at James who was now running down a practically free pitch. “Come on, come on.” You muttered under your breath as you see Spain’s goalkeeper take her stance. James went to hit the ball, it travelling at a good speed. Unlucky for you and your team, it just narrowly missed the goal and instead hit the crossbar - the goalkeeper catching it as it fell back down, opting to roll it to one of her Spanish teammates.

Ten minutes had passed and your team was yet to make another chance, Spain players literally tackling left and right. It all came crashing down however when Carmona scored twenty-nine minutes in, managing to slot the ball into the corner of the net. As the opposing team celebrated you couldn’t help but feel bad for your girlfriend who you know would be blaming herself for the goal after she gave away the ball taking on three players at once.

The game carried on with a profound feeling of desperation. While Beth, both Laurens and even Keira had a shot at goal, none of the attempts made it into the net. You was happy to hear the half-time whistle blow, running down the steps and back through the tunnel.

“It’s not your fault, don’t even think it.” Knowing exactly the thoughts going on in your girlfriend’s head, you rubbed her back supportively. “I got too bloody cocky, I should’ve just passed it back.” Lucy ran her slim fingers through her tied back hair.

“Hey hey, we still have another forty five minutes to show them what we’ve got. And I don’t know about you, but I think Bronze over here shouldn’t stop aiming for gold.” Her lips tugged at a grin over your partially lame joke. “You’re right, as always. Don’t know what I’d do without my woman.” She quickly pecked your lips.

“Okay lovebirds, keep it in your pants - we have a game to win.” Keira piped up, giving both you and lucy a little smack on the back of the head.

It’s safe to say after the pep talks the squad received in the locker room, England was on top form. It also helped that Spain had let go of the reigns a little, clearly thinking they were safe with the one nil advantage.

The 68th minute. That’s when the crowd started to get a whole lot louder and players were charging down one side of the pitch. Hemp had control of the ball, slowing just before the box and passing it to Beth. The blonde hit the ball with her left foot sending it straight into the back of the goal. Cheers roared through the stadium as you celebrated with the other girls on the bench. The scoreline now 1-1, you was still in this.

Your time had come to make a debut in the game, walking onto the outskirts of the pitch, Sarina going through the plan with you. James was the girl who was making way for your appearance, giving you a double high-five and pat on the back.

Running onto the pitch, adrenaline rushed through you as you made eye contact with a certain someone and sent her a wink. You hadn’t even managed to get three passes before you were caught with studs pressing into your ankle, sending you down onto the ground “What the fuck was that for?” It’s not like you was massive threat to the Spanish team at that moment considering you was about to pass the ball back up your end.

Luckily you were awarded a free kick, having alex take it. The match was getting more tense the longer you played, both teams creating good chances. Spain was even awarded a penalty which thank god Mary saved.

91 minutes. The game had entered extra time. Scores still level.

You watched as Keira dribbled with the ball, passing to Leah who kicked it up the pitch. Weighing up where the ball was in the sky and where you was near the goal you saw your chance; jumping up in the air you threw your body back, your left foot getting a hit on the ball which sent it flying into the net. Getting up off the grass, you look at one of the assistant referee’s to make sure it wasn’t offside.

His flag staying down, you dropped to your knees in disbelief. The girls ran over to you cheering and shouting your name while practically assaulting you with hugs.

The final whistle was blown about thirty seconds later with your whole squad now coming into the pitch. Familiar hands wrapped around your torso and lifted you into the air, carrying you bridal style. “You’re fucking incredible you know that?” The brunette spun you around grinning like a little child.

Once put down you cupped her face in your hands, overcome with emotion and smashed your lips onto hers. Although the defender was taken back, she gave into the moment and kissed you back with just the same intensity. It wasn’t the way either of you was planning to make the relationship public but hey, you just won the biggest tournament of your lives and wanted to celebrate with your special lady.

it wasn't long before you was ambushed by your team shouting compliments left right and centre. the crowd was also off on one, the volume making your ears ring.

walking back through the tunnel and into the locker room you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when a voice whispered into your ear "follow me."

obliging by the command and plodding behind the brunette, she dragged you into what appeared to be a storage room, miscellaneous sports equipment scattered around.

pushing you up against the cold wall which made you audibly gasp she planted a searing kiss onto your lips, hands having a firm hold of your waist. you reacted almost immediately, placing you hand on the back of her neck and bringing the two of you even closer.

"god i love you." the older woman breathed out as she moved from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking the skin to the point you was squirming in effort to not make any noise.

"i should score goals more often if this is how i get rewarded." forcing her to look at you, you reconnected your lips wasting no time in biting her bottom lip and snaking your tongue inside.

just as she slid her hand under your shirt there was a bang on the door. "lucia bronze and y/n y/l/n! if youse two are not out of there in ten seconds i will kick this door down myself!" tooney shouted.

you placed one last peck on lucy's cheek "i think we've been caught."

the right-back rolled her eyes. "we're continuing this later." she smirked, hitting your butt before unlocking and opening the door for you.

-

liked by youruser and 2,792,051 others

lucybronze Won the world cup and the girlfriend jackpot. On top of the world right now.

youruser 🤍

creator has limited comment access.

[berryz-writes]

𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐿𝒾𝓈𝓉

Main blog : @berryzxx

Requests are currently open!! <33

𝒜𝒞𝒪𝒯𝒜𝑅

Azriel

Game Night (Fluff, Game night with your mate and the IC) Better than cupcakes (Az is your mate and you're oblivious to it. Wanting him to try one of your treats could lead to disaster) Jealousy part 1 (You're forced to spend the weekend with the bane of your existence but little do you realise he doesn't completely hate you) Jealousy part 2 It's always going to be you (Az starts to spend more time with Elain and you distance yourself- apologising/fluff) You are divine (he's been busy on a mission and you've missed him so much. Will you reveal your feelings?) Not yet (you're not ready to tell Az's family you're mates in fear of them not liking you) To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part   (Azriel has spent decades centuries on trying to find his mate. A mate is supposed to be that one constant person in you're life. But as we all know Azriel was damned to an unlucky fate)

𝐻𝒫

-headcanons

Draco Malfoy Theodore Nott Mattheo Riddle Mattheo x Hufflepuff reader Enzo Berkshire

Theodore Nott

Forgive me (You and Theo are in an argument and he tries to apologies but you don't listen, until he tries something different) Hogsmeade (a small argument with theo, fluff) I'll try harder (based off the 11th headcanon. He's been in the infirmary one too many times) You're mine sweetheart (Theo is the only one who can make you feel better after a shit day) It's only a game (convincing moody theo to have a snowball fight)

Mattheo Riddle

Cold nights (He has a hard time as usual sleeping but with you he might be able to) Perfectly serious (Mattheo can't keep his feelings and jealousy in check when he see's you with another guy) Faking it part 1 (fake dating the guy you like won't be too hard...right?)

Draco Malfoy

Darling, I'm yours part 1 (best friends in love except both of you are oblivious)

𝒯𝐼𝒢

-headcanons

Grayson Hawthorne Grayson Hawthorne- when he was younger Hathorne headcanons- if they had a younger sister

Grayson Hawthorne

Lazy Mornings (Waking up with you is the best thing possible, which is why he tries to keep you in bed longer, fluff) Completely fine (You're injured and Grayson is pissed, not at you but at himself) Special treatment (Grayson see's a black cat and adopts it while drunk, surprising you with it) You're the only one for me part 1 (You find something suspicious on Grayson's phone. During your argument you get hurt, will he be able to fix things?) You're the only one for me part 2

[littleocean-rose]

Our Little Star

Summary: While walking on the way to a pet store to look for a kitten you want to adopt, you trace your hand over your soulmate tattoo on your wrist, the black ink reading one little word on your skin. Byeol. You stare at it, like you’ve done countless times in your life, wondering if you’ll ever meet your soulmate one day.

AU: non-idol, soulmate Pairings: Choi San x reader Warnings: none Word count: 2.1k

A/N: words cannot describe how many people I would kill for Byeol. I love her, I adore, I want to hold and kiss her, she is the most precious baby out there. San I love you but I WILL steal your cat. (jk I’m stealing you both-)

The world was full of different ways for people to meet their soulmate.

Some had it easy. Seeing each other in their dreams, able to communicate their names and location to the other. Dreamers had it the easiest by far, followed by Inkers. Inkers had the ability to communicate to their soulmate by writing on their skin, the words and marks appearing on the others’ skin, allowing them to write down names and numbers and locations. Visionaries were the third lucky ones, getting to see a glimpse of what their soulmate was seeing every now and then, taking in the scenery of where they were, what they were doing.

Others weren’t so lucky. Stringers had that little red thread attached to their pinkies, leading them to their soulmate, but never knowing how close they were to them. For all they knew, that little red string could run across an entire continent or over an ocean. All they knew was what direction their soulmate was in. Phrasers and Tattooists also had it hard. They could go their entire lives without ever meeting their soulmate, hoping to find someone with a matching tattoo, or listening desperately for the words that matched the ink on their skin. Colorists were among that class, too—their world monotone and grey until they finally laid eyes upon their soulmate, their world suddenly bursting into color the moment they found their other half.

Then there were the unlucky ones. Counters, those with timers on their wrists, were ones you always felt bad for. While some times Counters had their timers counting down until the moment they met their soulmate, others had timers that counted down until the moment their soulmate died. There were those who felt their soulmate’s pain, or shared the same wounds as them. Those who bloomed flowers from their skin, flowers that matched the emotions of what their soulmate was feeling. Signs you did in fact have a soulmate but were never given any indication of how they would know they even met them.

You were in the class of Phrasers, your soulmate mark being the first thing you would hear your soulmate say. Some had whole sentences, but you? You had a single word. Byeol. You remembered when you were a child how you obsessed over the word, looking up the definition and seeing it was of Korean origin. So growing up, you learned to speak Korean, studying it every moment you could, until you were fluent in it by the age of thirteen. Your parents encouraged you, just as eager as you to meet your soulmate, and when you hit the age of eighteen, they tearfully drove you to the airport so you could catch your flight to South Korea.

While they supported your decision, they still were sad to see you leaving to live in another country.

It wasn’t like you didn’t visit—you did every chance you could, which was usually every other year, but you were still their only child, and they missed always seeing you in person.

But here you were, nearly seven years later, and you still hadn’t met your soulmate. While it did dampen your spirits, you decided to stop trying so hard to find them. Not because you were quitting and giving up on the idea, no. What was the point of stressing over it? You’d leave it to Fate—if you found them, hey, great! If not, then, well, that didn’t mean you couldn’t start a romance with someone else.

You glanced down at the word again, fingers tracing over the ink as you walked into the pet store. You had recently moved into a new apartment so you could be closer to your job, and you were beyond ecstatic to discover it was a pet friendly home. Wasting no time, you had run out of the house first thing after breakfast on your day off to get yourself a new little companion. While you were originally planning to get one from a shelter, it was on the other side of the city, and you didn’t feel up for the long journey.

Instantly you went to the pets section, face lighting up at the cute animals in their enclosures. You went by the birds, taking a moment to admire their pretty plumage and beautiful songs, and then past the fluffy bunnies. You passed by mice next, stopping to watch them run through their little tubes, and then stopped to watch one of the hamsters run on his wheel. Of course you had to stop and look at the puppies, cooing at how adorable they were, watching them tumble over each other as they played. You had thought about getting a puppy, but in the end you just couldn’t pass up the idea of getting a kitten.

Which was why you were now in front of the cat enclosures. You took the time to look over each cat, aww-ing over their adorable little faces and fuzzy paws that reached out past the bars of their cages. There were some adult cats, a pretty calico catching your eye as you walked by, and then a cute tabby who seemed hyped on caffeine as he bounced off the walls, smacking around one of his toys and making you laugh. Then you reached the kitten area, and your heart melted.

They were at different stages of growth, some bordering on young teen, while others still seemed to wobble a little as they stood. One kitten in particular caught your eye. It was a siamese, large blue eyes staring up at you as it rolled over on its back with a long stretch and yawn, having just woke up from its nap.

One of the employees approached you, a wide smile pulling at his lips. You glanced at his name tag. Wooyoung. “Hello! Did you see someone you wanted to go say hi to?”

You nodded, pointing at the little siamese kitten. “Yeah, if that’s okay?”

The employee nodded. “Yeah, of course! Let me take you in.” Another employee passed the two of you, tall and blonde as he approached another customer that had also been looking at the cat display. You followed Wooyoung to the door where he unlocked it, letting you to get a closer look at the cats. As you entered, a barrage of mewls filled the room, and you couldn’t help but coo at how adorable they all sounded. “Hey guys, we have a visitor! Be on your best behaviors, okay?” Another series of meows filled the air, making the employee grin. “Anyway, go right on ahead and take a look! I’ll be right here to answer any questions you have!”

You thanked Wooyoung, starting with the cages at the back first. You heard the door open again, glancing over to see that same tall employee from earlier enter. “Hey, Yunho! Oh, another person interested in getting a– oh, it’s you again!” You tuned out their conversation, putting all your focus on the cats before you. An orange tabby, curled up into a ball, softly chittered in its sleep, and you nearly had to bite your fist from cooing as to not wake it up from its dream.

You looked over each cat, making your way slowly back to the siamese from earlier, until finally you were standing before its cage. It meowed softly at you, kneading the soft pillow it was sitting on. “She’s only been here a week, that one. She was left at our door in the middle of the night with her siblings in a box. The others have all found homes, she’s the only one left now.”

“Aww, that’s sad. At least they weren’t left on the side of the road or something,” you murmured. Wooyoung nodded.

“Yeah, I’m glad we could find them all good homes.” You heard quiet murmuring from behind you, the employee Yunho talking to his customer. Wooyoung gave a hum. “If you had to name her, what name would you give?”

You thought for a second, looking back into her big blue eyes. You swore you could see stars in her eyes, a hint of a pink galaxy, and one word came to mind. You smiled softly.

“Byeol.”

“Byeol.”

Your eyes widened, turning around to the other person who had uttered the word. Your focus landed on the other customer, his expression full of shock just like yours. At the same time you both looked down at your wrists, and with a quiet gasp you noticed that your soulmate tattoo was now red. This was him. This was your soulmate. After years of searching, you had finally found him.

You locked eyes with him, taking in his features as he did the same with you. His eyes reminded you of a cat’s, and at the corners of his excited smile were two adorable little dimples that you couldn’t look away from. His hair was pink, and you wondered if that had been the pink you had seen reflected in the kitten’s eyes earlier. You never thought you’d find someone who could rock pink hair so well, and it seemed you were proven wrong in the best way.

“Hi,” he breathed, smile growing, turning his eyes into cute little crescents. It was an absolutely adorable sight, your heart doing a little flip at it. You were sure your cheeks were a light pink, matching his, and you barely registered the fact that Wooyoung and Yunho were quietly squealing to themselves while watching the two of you.

“Hi,” you replied, cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling. “So, Byeol, huh?”

The male grinned, chuckling lightly as he looked over at the kitten. “Yeah, I swear I saw stars in her eyes.”

“Me too…” You faded off, and the male sheepishly scratched at his neck.

“Sorry. San, my name is Choi San.” He held his hand out to you, and you spotted the red tattoo on his inner wrist. Byeol. You smiled again, taking his hand, noting how small and soft it was, and how perfectly yours fit in it.

You gave him your name, his eyes lighting up. “What a pretty name,” he murmured, cheeks flushing at realizing he said that out loud. You laughed, finding his behavior sweet, warmth blooming in your chest at knowing you’d probably get along with San just fine. He cleared his throat, motioning to the kitten. “Since you’re adopting her, I am demanding visiting rights.”

Amused, you fought down another smile, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? Demanding visiting rights?”

“That’s correct. I’ve had my eye on that little baby since yesterday, but it seems you unfortunately beat me to adopting her. So, therefore, I am demanding visiting rights.”

You gave a thoughtful hum, pretending to think over the decision. You could see San trying to fight down a smile as well, loving how you were playing along. You tapped your chin in thought. “Hm, I think I can allow that. How does Thursday sound?”

“Perfect,” he answered. He pulled out his phone, holding it out to you. “I’m going to need your contact information to know where the visiting rights will be held, and how to get ahold of you for said visits.”

You held out your phone for him to take as you took his. “Of course.” The both of you exchanged contact information, handing each other back your phones, and you couldn’t fight off the smile any more. “San, it’s been an absolute pleasure meeting you.”

“It really has been. I’m so glad I decided to wait until today to come back for Byeol.” He offered you a shy smile. “I’ll… text you later, then…?”

“Please, any time you want.” Your fingers traced over your tattoo. “I’ll see you Thursday the, Mister Choi. With Byeol in tow, of course.”

He laughed, the sound like music to your ears, and you decided you wanted to spend the rest of your life listening to it. He rubbed at his neck again, your eyes flickering over and spotting the smattering of freckles along his skin. Everything about him was so cute. “Alright then. I’ll see you Thursday.” San gave you a little wave as he left the room, and you waved back, watching him leave until he was out of sight. As you gave a happy sigh, the two employees beside you gave quiet squeals.

“Oh my god we must be matchmakers, I have never seen two soulmates meet before in my life!”

“That was so cute, I wanted to scream! You two are so cute!” You blushed at their words, ducking your head as you gave a shy laugh, thanking them. Wooyoung cooed over the moment a little longer before finally moving on to the adoption process for Byeol.

As you walked out the store with your new little friend, you found yourself smiling as you looked at the notification on your phone.

Sannie Hey~

Sannie Be careful with the little star now! She’s our fragile little baby after all!

You shook your head with a laugh.

You couldn’t wait until Thursday came around.

A/N: heeey! Don't worry, I'm still working on Guardians! It's just longer than I expected it to be, and motivation to write has been a little low lately. But! Here's my first tumblr post! Hope it was alright, please leave some feedback if you liked it!

Thank you, have a good night/day everyone! ♡

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 4)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Being Arrested

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: Stella is now four years old and Rafe gets to celebrate that first milestone with her.

Masterlist

Four years old. His little girl is four years old and Rafe finally gets to be there for one of Stella’s special days. He was quick to say yes when Y/N asked him to help plan the birthday party. She can swear he is more excited about the celebration than Stella as he pitches big and wild ideas. By the time May 17th comes around, she is able to talk him down from hiring someone to bring in safari animals to a Halloween-themed party with family members and daycare friends. With his excitement, the party also brings in the nerves of meeting Y/N’s family. He knows she told them the truth about him, but she said she explained how much he has changed for Stella. So he is a little on edge about what they are going to think about him and vows to himself to be on his best behaviour. 

Rafe finds himself setting up cauldrons filled with candies on a fold-out table in a black cat costume. Witch Y/N comes out to the backyard with a black cat-shaped piñata and a wooden broom. “If I was really being a bad boy, then you could’ve just told me. You don’t need to beat it out of me,” he jokes. Y/N giggles, heading over to the tree, “I don’t think any amount of spanking could turn you good.” His cheeks redden and he walks over to help her tie the piñata string around the tree branch when he notices her struggle. 

His breath falls on the back of his neck and his chest is flushed against her back. It takes everything in her not to take a peek at his abs that are on display thanks to his shirt lifting up. She looks up to watch him dangle the cardboard cat. He finishes up and looks down at her. They smile once their eyes meet. The moment is interrupted by Benedict coming outside with Stella in his arms. Her older brother notices their body language, “I hope we aren’t interrupting anything.”  “Mommy, Uncle Benny said he and me can throw paint at his walls tomorrow. Can I go, please?” Stella begs, not noticing the position her parents are in. Y/N and Rafe pull apart. Rafe holds his hand out to shake, “I’m Rafe, Stella’s dad. It’s nice to meet you.” Benedict shifts Stella to one arm and takes Rafe’s hand. “Nice to meet you too. I’m Y/N’s older brother, Benedict.” Rafe isn’t too sure what to say next, but luckily Y/N is able to break the silence. “Benny, can you help Rafe finish setting up? I have to get Stells changed into her costume,” she directs, leaving Rafe and Benedict alone with Stella’s pleas to go over to her uncle’s house tomorrow fading in the distance.

Unlucky for him, she says exactly what he doesn’t want her to, but he nods anyway. Rafe and Benedict keep working on the decorations. A few minutes later, a man, a woman and a teenager come out back; they all look like Y/N in various ways. The woman exclaims, “I can’t believe my grandbaby is already four.” The trio notices Rafe and freezes. Benedict is the one to rescue him, “Mom, Dad, Josh. This is Rafe, Stella’s dad.” Her mother and father give an unpleased look at him and he feels his heart deflate. He paints a smile on his face and holds out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N, Mr. Y/L/N, and Joshua,” he introduces, shaking all their hands. When her parents don’t say he can call them by their first names, he feels he didn’t make a good impression on them. 

Joshua gives him a smile that helps give him some hope, “It’s good to meet you. Stella has told me some great things about you.” At least, Y/N’s brothers seem to be okay with him. Y/N returns before the conversation can continue and everyone finishes putting up the decorations. 

——

The party is just beginning. Stella is running around the backyard with her friends while the adults talk to each other. None of the parents want to talk to Rafe because all they know is he was Stella’s absentee father up until recently and none of them are keen to learn more about him. Benedict is busy playing with the kids and Josh is talking to some of the parents. “Hi, sorry we are a little late. The ferry wasn’t on time,” Rose apologizes, placing a gift on the presents table. Wheezie and Sarah follow her actions and they all go looking for Stella. She spots the three Camerons arriving, running toward them. “Grammie, Auntie Wheezie, Auntie Sarah,” she screams. The little girl throws herself into the Cameron women's arms, giving them each a kiss on the cheek. 

Ever since Stella met her grandmother and aunts, she has been hooked on being exactly like them. She wants to be as determined as Rose, as kind to the environment as Sarah and as funny as Wheezie. While watching the scene, Y/N heads over to her parents. “You guys need to start talking to Rafe. I can see you guys are making him nervous,” she demands, giving them the disapproving mother look she mastered thanks to Stella. Her father gives her a questioning look, “How can we let him into our lives when we don’t know if he is here to stay? When we don’t know if he is going to break your and Stella’s hearts?” She understands her parents' fear. They were so supportive of her pregnancy and continuing school. They knew how much she struggled with the decision not to tell Rafe because of the rumours of who he was and with being a single mother in general. And it’s understandable that they don’t want to go through that all over again. However, Y/N has seen the effort Rafe has put into changing and her parents need to give him a chance to prove that to them. “Yes, he may have needed to get sober before he met Stella. But he worked hard to do so and I’m proud of him. Watch how great he is with Stella. It will show you how great of a father he is,” she promises. 

They take their daughter’s word into consideration and watch as Rafe approaches his step-mom, sisters and daughter. Stella jumps into her father’s arms, “Daddy, can I open my present from you, please? It looks so pretty.” Rafe hates to tell her no, but he knows what Y/N would want him to say. “Little witch, if it was just me and you today, then of course you can,” he begins to explain. “But we are at your birthday party and it would be rude to open just one gift at the beginning. Before we played the games, had dinner and cut the cake. I promise when Mommy says it is time to open presents, you can open my gift first.” The little girl takes a second to consider what her dad said. She nods her head and runs off to play with her friends. 

Y/N’s parents are impressed by how Rafe handled the situation. They can’t deny he was great with their granddaughter and decide they should apologize for how they were treating him. They approach him with a timid smile. “Mrs. and Mr. Y/L/N, is there anything I can help you with?” he asks, looking excited because he may or may not have overheard their conversation with Y/N. Mallory gives an apologetic look, “Please, call us Mallory and Winston. We are here to say sorry for how we’ve been treating you. We couldn’t see that you changed before. You really are amazing with Stella.” “You are and we’d like to get to know you more in a more suitable environment. How about you come over for dinner tomorrow?” Winston offers. Rafe is overjoyed with their sudden change, “I would love that. If it is not too much trouble for you guys, then I would love to make your family dinner at my place in the Outer Banks.” “Winston and I would love that.” 

——

Stella sits with her presents surrounding her. Her excitement to open them all warms everyone’s hearts. “Which one do you want to open first, Baby?” Y/N inquiries, looking at all the bigger boxes Stella will probably want to open. Stella picks a more medium-sized box, “This one is Daddy’s. He said I can open it first.” She looks at her mother to confirm she is allowed to open the gift and immediately rips the dark purple paper apart when she gets the confirmation. The paper beneath shows a lavender cardboard box closed with packing tape. She struggles with pulling the flaps of the box open and looks up at her dad with pleading eyes. “Please, Daddy, help me open it.” Rafe jogs over to his little witch and pulls it open for her. 

He wraps his arms around her waist to lift her up, so she can see into the box. She pulls the tissue paper out of the box and pulls out the fluffy black stuffed cat. Her squeal is deafening, but her eyes widen at the pretty Taurus constellation necklace the cat is wearing as a collar. Each star is a small diamond. Y/N’s eyes bulge at the sight as well, knowing the necklace is expensive. She wants to demand that he takes it back, but she doesn’t want to ruin this bonding moment between the father and daughter. “Daddy, can you put it on for me, please?” she questions, holding it up to him. He gives her a kiss on the temple, “Of course. I want you to remember how much I love you every time you wear it. And know that whenever I look up to the stars, I’m thinking about you, little witch.” 

——

“Thank you so much for watching her. Benny got into a little trouble and uhh… he definitely isn’t in a place that I should take Stells. And my parents can’t get him because they are doing some college tours with Joshua,” Y/N thanks, getting ready to leave. She looks over her shoulder to see Rafe holding Stella in his arms, “Are you guys going to be okay? I know that this is the first time you are going to be watching her.” “We are going to be great! I promise I got this and if I need you, then I got your number,” Rafe guarantees, looking at Stella for backup. She gives him a grin, “Yeah. Now, go help Uncle Benny so I can spend time with Daddy.” Y/N shakes her head at her daughter chasing her out of her own house. “Okay, I’m going. Bye, I love you,” Y/N says, running out of the door. Rafe stops himself from returning her words when Stella cries out, “I love you too, Mommy.” He remembers that Y/N doesn’t love him, she loves her daughter. 

Once Y/N is out of sight, he closes the door and looks at his daughter. “So what do you want to do, little witch?” She gives it a thought before answering, “Let’s make popcorn and then watch a movie!” Rafe laughs at her excitement and brings them to the kitchen. He places her on the counter, so he can go looking for the popcorn. Y/N doesn’t have microwave popcorn, instead, she has just the kernels in a glass jar. He looks around for a popcorn machine, but it goes unfound. “Where does Mommy keep the popcorn machine?” he inquires, opening up a different cabinet to check. Stella gives him an inquisitive look, “Popcorn machine? Mommy makes it on the stove.” This makes Rafe pause because he has never made popcorn on the stove. “Do we really need popcorn? We can have chips instead,” he suggests. She shakes her tiny head, “We always have popcorn when we watch a movie.” “Okay, but you are going to have to help Daddy,” he gives in, taking the kernel jar and bringing her closer to the stove. He gets a pot, holding it up to his daughter, “Is this big enough?” 

“Yes, that’s the one Mommy uses. She uses the oil in that bottle and uses the blue spoon to put some oil in the pan.” Under her guidance, Rafe gets the olive oil and finds the blue spoon, which is a tablespoon measuring cup. He has to sneak a look at a recipe on his phone to check how many tablespoons of oils he needs, so Stella doesn’t think she is doing a bad job at explaining to him. She continues to instruct him on how to make it and when it starts popping he jumps a little. Stella giggles at her father’s fear, “Daddy, you got scared!” He exaggerates his surprise to keep her laughing. “I did. Can you cuddle Daddy to make him less scared?” he begs, moving closer so she can wrap her arms around his neck.

The popcorn finishes popping and he lets her put as much white cheddar topping as she wants. Rafe goes to examine their DVD collection and an unmarked box catches his attention. He pulls it off of the shelf, opening it up to reveal: The Love I Used To Have, starring Y/N Y/L/N. His mouth turns into a grin and he holds the box up to his daughter. “Do you want to watch this? Your mommy is in it,” he suggests to the toddler. Her excitement shines through and she jumps up and down while clapping. “Yes, yes. I want to see Mommy in a movie.” They get settled on the couch with her nestled under his arm. Stella pops some of the popcorn into his mouth and he has to stop himself from cringing at the amount of white cheddar in his mouth. “Hmm, this is really good, little witch. Good job,” he praises, giving her a smile. She grins at his words and eats some herself. He turns on the movie and they begin to watch.

The title of the short film fades onto the screen, disappearing to reveal the close-up of an eye crying. Rafe instantly recognizes it. How could he not when the image of those eyes rolling while he goes down on her is what haunts his dreams? Y/N’s eyes blink and the shot changes to a wide shot of her at a cemetery. “That’s Mommy,” Stella identifies with her finger pointed toward the screen. He kisses her head, “It is.” 

As the short film progresses, Rafe is blown away by Y/N’s acting talents. She is able to evoke the feeling of loss from him so easily and he truly feels like he is experiencing falling in love with her co-star and then losing her. He may not have lost Y/N in the same way as her character, but the emotion she displays makes it easy for him to match his loss with hers. It makes him want to ask her if she did have someone she loves die and if that is the feeling she is tapping into for this project. The movie comes to an end and he brushes his tears away to hide them from Stella. “Mommy is good at acting,” she whispers, looking up at her father, who can only nod in agreement. 

——

The rest of the afternoon turned into a Halloweentown marathon and halfway through movie number three, they had to pause for a second to wait for the food they ordered. Stella is held in his arms, playing with the gold chain around her father’s neck. “Daddy,” she catches his attention. He hums to show that he is listening. “Do you love me?” Rafe’s eyes stop looking out the open door to look at her, “Of course I love you.”

“Forever?”

“Little witch, I love you forever and always.”

The elation in her eyes makes him happy and she rests her head on his chest with a sigh, “I love you forever and always too.” 

——

Y/N comes home to find Stella asleep in Rafe’s hold while his focus is completely on the TV. He is so invested in Return to Halloweentown that he doesn’t notice Y/N walk in. “How is Marnie going to get herself out of this pickle?” he whispers to himself. Y/N joins him on the couch, “Don’t worry, she will.” Rafe, for the second time today, jumps out of his seat, but a little softer with Stella in his arms. “I did not see you come in. Is Benedict okay?” he leans in to ask so as to not wake up the sleeping girl. 

“Yeah, he got off with a warning this time. The police just wanted someone to pick him up so he wouldn't do it again. The paperwork was a nightmare though.”

“That’s bureaucracy, Buttercup. Let me just help you get her to bed and I’ll head out.”

Rafe lifts himself off the couch and at the movement, Stella wakes up. “Mommy, you’re home,” she mutters in a tired voice. Y/N smoothes the girl’s muddy hair down, “I am, Baby. Why don’t we go to bed and say goodbye to Daddy?” Stella hasn’t forgotten her plan to help her father out with her mother and decides this is the perfect time to put it into motion. “But I want Daddy to sleep over. Mommy, it’s so late,” she draws out the last vowel. Y/N gives her a tight-lipped shake of the head, “I know, but Daddy has to go home, Stells.”

 “NO! I want Daddy to stay.”

“Stella Rachel Y/L/N. I said Daddy can’t. Now, go get ready for bed.”

Stella disobeys her mother and continues to cry her head off. Y/N starts biting her nails, trying to think of how to handle this situation. Rafe can see how tired Y/N is and wants to help. “I can sleep over if you want. I don’t mind taking the couch,” he offers. At her father’s words, Stella’s cries continued, “No, I want Daddy to sleep with me in Mommy’s room with Mommy.” He doesn’t know how to help Y/N with that. Y/N is too tired to argue at this point and gives in to her daughter’s wants, “Okay, he can stay with us.” Stella’s screams immediately stop. She gets off of the couch and goes to get ready for bed. “Did I just get tricked by my four-year-old?” Y/N ponders, turning toward Rafe. He gives her a shrug, “If it makes you feel better, I thought she was having a real tantrum.”

——

Y/N and Rafe stare at each other awkwardly from over Stella’s head. She had insisted that she sleep sandwiched between the pair and that they hugged each other while they slept. Rafe never thought he would be in Y/N’s bed; he doesn’t really know what to make of it, but he isn’t complaining. “I’m sorry she threw a tantrum and now you have to sleep here,” Y/N murmurs, smoothing down Stella’s hair. He gives her a smile, “It’s okay. I have nowhere to be tomorrow. Plus, I like being here for our daughter.” “That’s great. I know she loves it when you are here,” she confesses. His eyes find the ones that were on the TV screen a few hours ago, “How come you never tried to get your big break at acting? I know you couldn’t move out to LA or New York because of the diner, but you could’ve still sent out self-tapes.” “It wouldn’t have been practical with Stella. I needed a steady income and acting couldn’t provide me with the stability I needed for her,” she explains, fidgeting with her nails under the blanket. 

“But you are such a good actress. It is your dream.”

“It was my dream, Rafe. But I was going to have a baby and she became my priority.”

Rafe wishes that he could’ve been there when Stella was born, then maybe Y/N wouldn’t have had to leave her dream behind. He promises to himself that he will help bring stability to his little family so that Y/N can chase after what she genuinely wants in life. He goes to express that feeling but finds Y/N’s eyes closed. Her soft snores are an indication he isn’t going to get an answer. “I love you both. Forever and always,” he vows, kissing them both on the cheek. 

——

The next morning, Rafe is the first to wake up and he decides to make breakfast for his girls. He wants to help alleviate some of Y/N’s stress because that’s what one does for the people one loves. It may be a little early to say he loves her, but just being with her makes him happy and he has never felt his way before. He should ask her out on a date. Stella and Y/N find Rafe cooking waffles for everyone. Their little girl goes running to him and wraps herself in his legs. “Good morning, Daddy! Can I have some waffles too, please?” He moves away from the waffle maker, kneeling to return her hug, “Of course, little witch. I’m making food for everyone. Why don’t you go sit at the table? There is some bacon already there. This is the last waffle that I need to make.” “Okay. Thank you, Daddy! Forever and always,” she yells. She runs back to the table and Y/N gives him a confused look. “Forever and always? What does she mean by that?” she probes, coming closer to him. He looks over at her with a smile, “She asked me yesterday if I loved her. And I said forever and always. I guess that’s how she is saying I love you now.”

“Oh, that’s cute. You didn’t have to make breakfast, Button. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Buttercup. This may not be my house, but Stella is my responsibility too. Making sure she is fed is a part of my duties.”

The family eats breakfast in harmony with each other like they have always been together since Stella was born. She would do adorable things that would warm her parents’ hearts and they would do piney things that would give her hope. Y/N is washing the dishes while Rafe and Stella hang out at the table. “Daddy, you should ask Mommy out on a date,” Stella advises in a hushed tone. His eyebrow darts at his daughter’s words, “And what do you know about dates, little witch?” 

“Mommy and I watch lots of Hallmark movies. You look at each other like they do in the movies.”

“We do?”

“Yeah, and you smile whenever you see her. And try to touch her hand.” 

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

Little does she know that her dad has already thought about it and is planning on doing it once her hearing ears are out of the room. 

——

Stella is in the bathroom, pooping as she announced to her parents. This leaves Y/N and Rafe alone in the living room waiting to see if she is going to need any help. Rafe finds the chain of his watch, playing with the link of the golden band, “I was thinking… maybe we could go mini golfing sometime and then we could go to dinner.” “Oh, that’d be great. Stella loves mini golfing. She says it’s like a tiny world perfect for kids,” she informs, giving him a smile.

“Actually, I was thinking it could be a date.” 

Her smile falls and Rafe feels as though his world stopped turning. “Rafe, I like you. I really do, but I don’t think we should date,” she breaks his heart with those words. “Some people suggest that you shouldn’t date when you are just getting sober. It’s not that I don’t believe you will stay sober. It’s that I think it would be better to focus on your sobriety and Stella.” He quickly nods his head, wanting to move past this awkward moment, “Right, I understand.” “Yeah, you are such a great dad to Stella and I really appreciate the effort you put into being with her. I hope you know that.” Their daughter’s call for help with wiping her butt causes Y/N to leave him alone in the room. He knows what she said makes sense and he probably shouldn’t jump head-first into another new commitment. But it still doesn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach at her no. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Lion's Pride [PART 1]

Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: You fall into a hole. There is something in the hole. Something with teeth, and claws, and a garbage attitude to boot. Today is not your day.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

Let it be known, that of all the ways you could have died in your miserable and unlucky life, falling into a pit trap had not been on the list. Or, well, if it was, it hadn’t even managed to crack the top ten. And that was what was making this whole ‘sudden demise’ thing feel really pathetic.

On top it also being an uncovered pit trap. No subterfuge or class to speak of. Just a big ol’ hole in the ground that you had waltzed straight into. Ace would keel over dead laughing if he ever found out.

It was a pretty nice trap all things considered. The walls were dug into some strange sort of stone rather than just packed earth, and rings of fresh talismans curled along its sides like hundreds of ugly finger paintings. Certainly something so impressive had not been built to catch some lowly, little, idiot such as yourself. But you were here now, so that was your captor’s problem.

You were wandering aimlessly around your new prison when you stepped on something weird, and long, and thin. You paused, brow furrowing in confusion, and glanced down at whatever had found itself wedged under your heel. And, hey. That was odd. It sort of looked like a—

There was a horrible, screeching, snarl, and you wheeled back in hysterical panic as an honest-to-god lion lunged from the shadows—jerking its tail out from beneath your boot and swatting at you with its absolutely massive claws that could definitely take your eyes out. And half of your face. And probably your brain too. You fell backwards on your ass in an ungraceful heap and immediately scurried back towards the opposite wall as fast as you could. You were one-hundred-percent ready for the lion to just follow you into your little corner and murder you dead, but instead, it just stood its ground—growling, and spitting, and whipping its tail back and forth like a rattlesnake.

The thing was absolutely massive—bigger than you thought a lion was supposed to be, at least. Weren’t they just, I don’t know, like the cat equivalent of wolves? Because you’d seen plenty of wolves before on the road, and they’d never been so… looming, in themselves. And size aside, the beast was just weird looking. With thick, ash-brown, fur cut through with strange, almost geometrical, whorls of black. Now, you didn’t know much about lions (they weren’t exactly native to your little, forested, corner of the continent, after all), but weren’t they supposed to be regal? Or something? With lush, red, manes and tan hides that glowed majestically under the sun’s light? Not some… scraggly looking monstrosity with too-large canines and limbs stained in black like it’d taken a hike through a field of ash.

Its eyes were the strangest part of all of it—a sharp, emerald, green that cut through the gloom of the pit with all the efficiency of a dagger. One of them was bisected with a thin scar that ran crookedly from brow-to-jaw. They were eyes that spoke of an intelligence that no animal ought to possess, let alone one that was perfectly capable of mauling you to death without the aid of functional brain cells.  

You continued your silent inspection of your new nemesis, and when your gaze hesitantly fell to its hind legs, you jolted in surprise.

Iron shackles.

Or, more specifically and horribly, a spike trap. A grim, metal, contraption that would snap into its victim like a vice, and then unfurl row upon row of jagged barbs—tangling them up like an unfortunate bug caught within the web of some really fucked up, sociopathic, spider.

You winced in sympathy, out of habitual concern for your fellow down-and-trodden if nothing else. The lion, with all its eerie intelligence, seemed to notice the pity flickering across your expression and put every single one of its too-sharp teeth on display. As if to say ‘how dare you?’  You held up your hands in surrender, hoping it looked placating and not threatening, and smooshed yourself even harder up against the wall.

After a few more moments of grumbly glaring, the beast dropped back down to the ground with a pissy huff and closed its eyes. Clearly, you weren’t worth the trouble—which was perfectly fine with you.

You gave yourself the rest of the evening to just lie around like a sad little slug and lick your wounds. Falling all that way had hurt, okay? And while the adrenaline rush of ‘oh shit, I’m going to be lunch’ had helped push away some of that initial pain, now that it was fading you could feel every twinge in your ribs, all the bruises climbing your back and the cuts littering your hands.

When the sun rose once more over the mouth of your prison, you stretched as best you could and prepared to make your escape.

Scaling the slippery, stone, walls had proved to be an instant failure. The rope in your pack wasn’t long enough to reach the top, and you smacked yourself in the face with the thing more times than you would like to admit. Trying to find grippy-bits to just crawl your way up the side like a bug hadn’t worked either. The first talisman you touched didn’t spark or bite at your fingers, but it had been seared into the stone with some sort of magic that made it slide like oil beneath your palms. And you’d plummeted back to the bottom with a lackluster thump. The lion had made some kind of huffing noise from its place in the corner, like it was laughing at you. And you fought the insane urge to flip off a creature that could just eat your entire hand in retaliation.

Next you rifled around in your pack, hoping for a miracle. You were pretty decent at throwing together little bits and bobs to create a cheap but generally functional solution. Like the time you’d rigged Deuce’s bow to spit stink bombs as it shot through the air, or when you’d managed to scrounge together a decent fishing-line trap out of Ace’s shoelaces to lure out a rogue pixie that had been cannibalizing your vegetable garden. But you’d only been heading into town for your monthly grocery trip, so the most you had on you were genuinely practical things. An emergency medical kit, a dagger, lock picks, some rations that lived at the bottom of your bag no matter where you went. Nothing nonsensical, and therefore nothing useful.

Your stomach gurgled irritably, and, well, maybe you had something useful after all.

You fished out some neatly wrapped bits of cured meats, and cheeses, and bread. You made yourself a tasty, little, sandwich, and hey? You know what? How many other Hole Prisoners could claim to have such phenomenal catering? Probably not many. You’d take that win, at least.

You were just about to take your first bite when your eyes guiltily swung towards the lion curled up and sleeping at the opposite end of your makeshift cell. It hadn’t even flicked its ears your way when you’d started to loudly rustle around in your bag. And it certainly hadn’t sniffed at the air or anything else dramatic like that when you’d unearthed your packed lunch. Which was… didn’t animals usually go nuts for tasty treats like this? The foxes that snuck around behind your cottage would scream like banshees if you didn’t toss them your leftovers. Even the bunnies that lived in the hole in the wall by your cellar had some food aggression issues.

You tore off a chunk of your sandwich and palmed it nervously.

Maybe if you fed it, it wouldn’t eat you quite so quickly.

You cautiously pushed the stack of toasty breads, and meats, and home-made cheese, towards the beast with the toe of your boot. When it didn’t move, you scooched the offering a smidge further, until it was nudging up against a paw.

The Lion lifted its great, dark, head to bare its teeth at you with a lazy twitch of the lip. You scuttled back as quick as you could, and once you were a fair distance away, it stopped glaring at you long enough to observe whatever you’d just shoved at it.

It nosed at the food with a level of apathy you didn’t think was even possible, before reaching out with a heavy, black, foot, to smoosh it ungratefully into the dirt.

“Hey!” you gasped, genuinely offended. Because you were just trying to be a polite cellmate, okay! Was that really so terrible?!

With a sharp little twist of its paw that looked far too dexterous for something its size, it speared through the meat with one of its curling claws, and raised that from the dejected pile of mush. It popped the chunk of cured ham into its mouth with a satisfied little grumble, and you felt your completely rational and not at all ridiculous discontentment ease. It lifted its head a little higher and its tail swished—not in the whipping, angry, way it had been the other day when you’d squashed it, but the gentle twitch of something closer to a cat lazing about contentedly in a windowsill. The lion kept looking at you then, with those too-cognizant eyes. You pulled another bit of meat from your sandwich and tossed it over. It caught it easily in its massive jaws with that same, contented, rumbling.

“I made that,” you beamed. Because you had. And it had taken you ages to balance out the perfect spice-salt-sugar combination for a proper cure.

The lion looked entirely unimpressed.

You sighed and sat back against the wall with a string of irritable mutterings. The lion made another one of those huffing noises, like it had earlier when you swore the thing was snickering at you. And then it closed its glowing, emerald, eyes and slipped back into its seemingly never-ending nap.

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed in relative peace. Despite its lackluster (read: fucking rude) response to your earlier offering, come dinner time, you still slid the beast a makeshift plate stacked high with meat. It ate the food without complaint, which was better than outright scoffing at you, you supposed. You started to hum some nonsense under your breath, just for something to do, and the lion made a noise like you were physically torturing it. So instead you shifted to folding and refolding the scrap bits of parchment paper from your wrapped rations into ugly, veritably unidentifiable, origami shapes. This was apparently deemed acceptable, as the lion just sighed and rolled over to make itself comfortable for the night. Irritably, you flicked one of the little flowers you’d made at its dumb face. But it shot wide and landed somewhere off by its paws. The beast didn’t even bother to twitch its ear at you.  

The next morning came with little fanfare, and you stared longingly up at the warm light of the dawn.

Your eyes once more roved across the spiraling talismans dripping from the walls, and the great, iron, trap that certainly wouldn’t have belonged to any ordinary sort of hunter.

“You’re not a real lion, are you?” you asked, and the thing had the nerve to roll its eyes at you. You bristled and again had to tamp down the urge to do something very, very, stupid, and which would no doubt end in your immediate disembowelment. “Yes, yes. Laugh it up. I only mean that because—I mean, you can understand me, can’t you?”

Another long, slow, eye roll. Like it was making damn well sure you could see.

It was a lot harder to bite down your anxious ticks and ramblings when you knew you were speaking to something that could maybe speak back, rather than just a wild animal trapped at the bottom of a hole (there was a very good reason you lived in a quaint little cottage in the middle of fucking nowhere), but you grit your teeth and soldiered on.

“Alright then. Fine. I just wanted to say then. Well. I mean—I could… You know.”

When you held out the lockpicks from your bag, the beast’s eyes lit with genuine interest for the first time in this entire nightmare situation, and a teeny bit of your nerves eased.

You gestured to the spike trap entangling its legs and the lion turned to sneer at the mess of sharp ends with a genuinely bone chilling snarl.

“I can probably get that off—unlock the mechanisms, I mean,” you explained. “But you have to, you know—” You made a theatrical imitation of gnashing teeth over the meat of your forearm, “—not eat me.”

The Lion sat up on its haunches and its tail twitched restlessly at its side. After a long moment where you were genuinely concerned that the thing would rather eventually justbleed out and die in its trap rather than let you touch it, the lion raised its head and perked its ears in an imperious sort of way. And then it dipped its chin—a nod.

You scooched forward cautiously, pausing every few feet or so to make sure the thing wasn’t going to change its mind and maul you. The Lion just huffed at you, and shifted to give you better access to the horrible agglomeration of cold metal twisted around its limbs. You reached out carefully, the picks a light, familiar, weight in your hands. It was certainly a complicated looking contraption, but you’d yet to encounter something you weren’t able to break with enough force of will and sheer, dumb, luck. So you grit your teeth and got to work.

After a few minutes of poking, the first spiral of jagged spikes loosed with a rusty groan and the lion noticeably perked up—like it was shocked you’d managed anything at all. You decided very resolutely that you weren’t going to allow yourself to be offended by the implied emotions on the face of an animal, and continued your work. Your tongue poked out of the corner of your mouth as you focused, intent, and slowly—steadily—the barbed monstrosity gave way beneath your gentle fiddling. Every now and again, one of the spikes would ease itself from the lion’s hide, and you had to fight the urge to fuss over the oozing, painful, wounds that were exposed. You were almost there, you reminded yourself feverishly. Just a little more, and—

The last of the iron fell away with an echoing clatter, and immediately the lion reared up with a roar. But instead of lunging at you and your very accessible throat like you feared, it crouched back on its battered hind limbs and craned its head towards the open hole above your heads, and the blue, sunny, sky beyond. A swirl of strange, sandy, magic began to seep from the beast’s mane. The green of its eyes glowed hot and bright amidst the outpour of arcane energy, like the sole light in a storm. And then its fur was fading, its limbs cracking and groaning as they folded in on themselves into something more contained—more bipedal. The strange, geometric, patterns along its coat rippled like living things. They expanded and contracted as the creature did, before eventually settling into some new pattern that you hadn’t seen before.

And there, standing before you now, was a man. Tall, and lithe, and tan. With a head full of thick, dark, hair that looked startling like the mane that had just poofed from existence—except now it was twisted through with braids, and precious gems, and the occasional patchwork of beads and leather. The inky shapes settled themselves along his biceps, curling into the skin contentedly as if they’d lived there all along. There was still a pair of tufted, feline, ears atop his head, and a long, thin, tail whipping back and forth at his rear. His teeth were still much too sharp, and those eyes of his much too feral. He observed his clawed limbs with distaste, letting out a sigh that seemed to rattle his bones.

“Of course it’s still fucked,” he grumbled. His voice was deeper than you were expecting—smoother, too. Like it was meant to belong to someone regal and powerful, someone doling out orders and ruling nations. Not a sad, little, half-man-half-lion trapped at the bottom of a pit with an ever sadder, littler, human.

After a minute or two of what was clearly some very displeased inner reflection, he raised his hands over his head. A pale, dusty, magic swirled along his fingers, not dissimilar to the stuff that had coiled out from his furs. You watched in awe as one by one, the talismans began to burn away—disintegrated into nothing.

Once he had finished utterly decimating what had once been a nearly foolproof trap, he turned and looked down at you for a long, tense, moment with an expression that you couldn’t quite place.

And then he was leaping out of the hole with all the grace of a hurricane—tearing through stone and dousing you in waves of dust and debris as he went. His claws tore into the sides of his prison like it was made of paper, leaving deep, jagged, gashes in their wake. Some of the wall seemed to melt beneath his attacks—collapsing into a thin, sandy, mess beneath the weight of his irritation. With one, final, swipe that shook the pit from base to rim, he leapt out of the dug-in prison cell entirely and vanished from your line of sight. Lo, the Angry Lion Man was free at least. And you? Well—

“Hey!” you shouted after him, enraged. “Thanks for nothing, asshole!”

And so, despite all your hardships and good deeds, you were still stuck at the bottom of a fucking hole.

You stomped around for a bit, kicking at rocks and ranting at nothing. Once you’d tired yourself out enough to think a bit more rationally, you sat back and took stock of your continuing predicament. With the talismans burnt out, you might be able to try climbing out again without slipping down in the messy remnants of gooey, protective, spells. And actually, the guy had destroyed quite a bit of the stone in his rampage. There were enough tall heaps of fresh rubble that you’d probably have plenty of leverage to try and use your rope again.

So you went around collecting all your little scraps of paper, your meager personal items, and any bits of fabric that had been scraped off in the initial tumble. With traps as intricate and expensive as this, it was better not to leave behind any traces of one’s presence. Just in case the owner of said trap tried to go sniffing around for his lost quarry.

The rope ended up being a resounding success, and you hauled yourself out of the pit with a surprising amount of ease.

Once you were out, you breathed in the clean, crisp, air and looked around. Absolutely no sign of Mister Lion-Shifter to speak of. Or, well, there was a clear trail of dusty destruction leading towards the forest, so you would assume he’d run off somewhere in that direction. But you were well and truly alone again.

You shook your fist at the tree line for good measure, before turning around and starting the miserable trek back home.

.

.

Everything was as it had been when you left. Your chickens were quite happy to see you, happier yet obviously to be fed. You greeted the various other woodland residents that had taken to living out of your ramshackle little home (the foxes in particular were quite happy to nibble on the remaining scraps of bread and cheese in your bag). Your garden looked a little munched on, but nothing too terrible. All and all, things were… fine. It was honestly a bit underwhelming.

Later that afternoon when you were dumping out your bag to give it a good clean and restock, a dozen little, horrible, paper creations fluttered down to your kitchen table. You decided you would keep them, ugly as they were, as a kind of trophy for making it out of the Hole in one piece. Look at me, world. I—nothing more than a humble idiot—managed to survive in a Pit Trap alongside some sort of Skin Changing, lion, man. Who only almost mauled me twice. And here are the paper blobs to prove it.

Except—huh. That was a bit strange. You’d made a nice little flower too, hadn’t you? The one that you had tried (and failed) to shoot into the lion’s face. It had been the only piece that looked even halfway like it was supposed to. You’d checked every bit of the hole pretty thoroughly before you’d escaped, so certainly you would have scooped it up. After a moment of silent fretting, you shrugged and deposited the others into a nice, glass, jar. It had probably just been buried beneath the rubble or something.

.

.

Something had spooked your birds. You frowned out the window and into the rain. It was a gloomy, grey, day, and normally all your little farm friends would hunker down in their wooden huts to avoid the drizzle. But you could hear the geese honking and the chickens squawking in that indignant way of theirs as they flapped around and made a general nuisance of themselves.

There was a hard knock at your front door—a heavy, sharp, rap-tap-tap against the aged frame that sounded entirely unfriendly. You snuck a glance through the little, round, porthole and nearly doubled over in shock. You yanked the door open before you could think better of it, and there on your front porch, looking half-drowned and wholly grouchy, was the Lion Man.

His emerald gaze settled on you like a tangible thing that you could feel digging along your shoulders. His lips quirked up into a loose smirk that was entirely feline in its smug satisfaction and unfairly attractive. Especially considering he looked like someone had dunked him in a lake. His round, tufted, ears flicked irritably beneath each drop of rain.

Your brain whirled into overdrive, coughing up wave after wave of scenarios—each more outlandish than the next. Maybe he had come to eat you, to get rid of any witnesses. Or maybe this was the start of some epic quest, like you’d managed to save some Skin Changer Prince or something and were now due to be swept up in some wildly entertaining political drama. Or maybe he had come to thank you finally, after abandoning you so outright. To grovel and apologize for leaving the person who had so selflessly rescued him.

“Well, herbivore?” he huffed instead, crossing his arms irritably over his chest and rolling his eyes at you in a way that was far too familiar. “Aren’t you going to invite me in? It’s wet out here.”

You smiled—perfectly, utterly, serene. And slammed the door in his face.

.

.

.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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[yaksha-lover]

Pink in the Night

i’ve always wanted to write a soulmate au :)

Malleus Draconia x Reader

wc: 5.9k

cw: reader is yuu, major character death, descriptions of violence/injury, mentions of fae heat (brief, sfw), pmmm inspired, yandere-ish

For the first few hundred years of his life, Malleus is convinced he doesn’t have a soulmate. While other children gleefully show off small scrapes and bruises that magically appear on their skin, Malleus’ own remained blemish free. He wonders if perhaps his soulmate is simply being considerate; trying to save him from harm by living a careful life.

He remembers when Silver first got a scrape on his knee, how the seven-year-old had started crying when it appeared. Lilia had consoled him and taken care of the injury, telling his son what it meant. By the end, young Silver had shed tears of excitement for the future.

A bittersweet feeling climbed Malleus’ throat at Lilia’s words to his son - fate, destiny, soulmates - it seemed the world had simply forgotten about him. Perhaps that was his destiny: to rule Briar Valley undistracted and alone, concentrating only on his kingdom. While uncommon, it wasn’t impossible - there certainly existed some unlucky enough to be born without one.

Five hundred years later and the time in which Malleus wished for a soulmate has long passed. The thought rarely crossed his mind anymore - it was no different than any other loneliness he’d felt it in his life. Unlike other children, he’d grown up without his parents. Just the same, he’d do fine without a soulmate.

The morning of NRC’s orientation on his third year, Malleus feels a sharp scratch on his arm, like that of the cat which had scratched him as a child when attempting to flee his touch. It’s faint and quick, and his fae blood means any visible mark is gone within a second. Malleus pulls down his sleeve anyway, eyes scrolling over the area of his wrist where he’d felt it. His pale flesh is as unblemished as ever; he almost feels like he’s hallucinated it.

The feeling leaves him in thought and he decides to take a walk on campus. Absorbed by the morning’s events, Malleus barely takes notice of the bustling of the students around him, all preparing for something he can’t quite remember; he makes a note to ask Lilia about it later.

Malleus walks until that the sky darkens into a deep azure. The tranquility of nature is soothing to him; he feels like just another one of the trees. The birds chirp freely in his presence, uninhibited by fear or distaste. Eventually he runs into Shroud, talking to himself in the courtyard. Malleus is almost pleased at the encounter: him and his fellow dorm leader seeking to find peace in similar ways.

The pleasantries are quickly dispelled when he realizes Idia is dressed in his black ceremonial robes. Malleus is confused, and Shroud quickly becomes defensive when he questions his choice. He does not struggle with the idea for too long. Malleus figures that perhaps there are things that fae and humans simply cannot understand about each other.

His day is quickly soured when Lilia informs him that he’s missed the school’s ceremony again. The distraction of another lost opportunity means he forgets all about the strange incident from the morning.

*

Time passes quickly for Malleus, it always has. He blinks and Heartslabyul’s dorm leader has overblotted. He blinks again and another Spelldrive tournament approaches.

Another late night, Malleus escapes Diasomnia dorm to take a walk by himself. He only has so long before Sebek realizes he is gone, so the prince makes haste to his usual spot.

Ramshackle reminds him of why he enjoys nature: it is another place where Malleus can simply exist amongst the gargoyles, where his presence causes no disturbance and nothing to change. It seems this kind of peace can only exist for him in places abandoned by others.

The solitude he’s enjoyed so long is shattered when this time, the dorm is not empty. A child of man walks out from the gates of the dorm, rubbing their eyes and dressed in simple clothing.

You seem as surprised to see him as he is by you. It catches Malleus even further by surprise that you do not cower at his appearance.

You offer your name, and Malleus finds it unusual. He is certainly well read, having been educated on all major parts of the world since he was a child (it wouldn’t do well for a prince to be aware of only his own kingdom), and yet, he has never heard of your name. He doesn’t dwell on the details, certainly it could be the mistake of the outdated nature of Briar Valley’s texts.

Malleus decides not to offer you his own name. He wonders if perhaps keeping it to himself would help maintain the serenity of Ramshackle; without his name, perhaps you will still treat him as just another person. He silently mourns the loss of this space, and vows to find more ruins in which he can find peace.

*

The next time Malleus sees you, you call him ‘Tsunotaro,’ and he laughs for the first time in a while. He’d thought maybe you were bluffing last time, pretending not to know who he really was. Your bravery to call him by this nickname is delightfully baffling.

You tell him about Azul and the contract, and Malleus almost feels sorry for how pitiful and doe-eyed you look. It’s not as though he can’t understand the sentiment. In a way, he’s grown fond of Ramshackle too. He leaves you with words of encouragement and disappears into the night.

*

Three days later, Malleus drops to his knees in his room, feeling like his bones are being crushed into dust. The pressure is so overwhelming he passed out.

He awakens on the bed of his room, with Sebek standing by his bedside. As soon as the half-fae sees his eyes flutter, Sebek is yelling out for Lilia and Silver to come. Malleus groans at Sebek’s loudness and lightly chastises him. He immediately apologizes in a softer tone as the two others come rushing in.

The prince moves his arms and legs, relieved to find them in tact. Although he feels sore, his bones and tissue are not fractured and split as he worried. He wonders if he’s dreamt the pain; it feels like a distant memory. The only thing that remains is a sort of empty pit in his stomach, but he supposes it’s likely because he hasn’t eaten. Lilia checks up on Malleus, pressing his small hand to his forehead.

‘Strange’, his guardian remarks. ‘A fae’s first heat is often painful, but it shouldn’t have been for someone like you. Well, at least it seems you slept through the worst of it.’

Malleus isn’t sure what it should feel like, but the crushing of bones definitely seems extreme. Still, he accepts Lilia’s explanation for his condition easy enough. He retained no actual injury, so there doesn’t seem to be any explanation other than his own body.

*

When Malleus feels well enough to return to his duties as housewarden, Lilia explains the situation he had been hiding from Malleus while he was in his incapacitated state.

It seems Ashengrotto was more dangerous than Malleus gave him credit for. Kingscholar and a few other students had stopped his overblot, but during the fight, destruction to the nearby dorm building caused a student to be crushed and killed.

Lilia explains the chaos that the school has been thrown into while he’s been asleep, the attempt at damage control by Crowley, and Azul’s further breakdown once he’d realized what he’d done.

Ashengrotto was hardly Malleus’ favourite fellow housewarden, but his situation was terribly sad. He knew, despite his greediness and flaws, that Azul was not a bad person.

*

As he walks around campus, the courtyard is empty of students. Malleus loves the quiet, but not like this. This kind of quiet is constrictive, like oxygen has left the air and Malleus can no longer breathe. He spots a single student walk down the hall, so distracted that he fails to even notice Malleus as he walks past.

The next few days pass in a similar silence. It seems even those who did not know the student who was killed are shaken by the event. Ashengrotto has left the school and gone home; Malleus isn’t sure if it was by choice or not.

Lilia encourages Malleus to attend the vigil for the student who died, stating his attendance to be important both as a housewarden and the future king of Briar Valley.

The two of them walk to the vigil, accompanied by Silver and Sebek. Malleus is so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize they’ve walked the path to Ramshackle dorm.

It’s then that he spots the giant picture of you, printed on a canvas, set in front of the dorm gates. You smile in the picture, but he can tell you were caught off guard by whoever took the picture. It’s not unflattering, but he’s surprised they chose that one. It seems more like a causal picture taken by a friend than one meant for a funeral. When he asks Cater later on, he’ll learn it was one of the few anyone had of you. The picture is surrounded by white candles, probably twenty or so.

Blue hair catches his eye and Malleus notices the two freshman boys he’d occasionally spot with you standing off to the side of the portrait. The redhead keeps his gaze cast down, but the blue-haired boy is unable to keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks. Malleus imagines if he was any closer, he’d be able to hear the soft sobs spill from his lips.

Malleus doesn’t realize he’s stopped walking until Lilia is ushering him quietly to stand behind the crowd. At his height, he’s still able to see over the rest of the students. A blur of grey flashes by his eyes as something runs between legs to the front of the crowd.

Grim sits frozen at the bottom of your portrait for a moment, the rest of the students going silent as they watch him. Malleus notices Leona standing off to the side of the crowd beside Ruggie, the two of them looking as glum as he’s seen; it’s strange for him to see the prince without his usual smirk or sneer.

The cry that breaks the silence a moment later replays in Malleus’ head for days. Grim’s grief at your death haunts him; the more he remembers it, the more the pit in his stomach grows.

It’s the pity that sets Malleus on his next decision. This experience, this loss the campus has faced has undeniably changed things. He feels sorry for you and your friends, of course, but mostly Malleus hates the silence he can no longer escape.

Malleus doesn’t bother telling Lilia; his guardian would likely try to stop him, but Malleus knows he’s in no danger. His grandmother had given him the magic shield only because she knew he could handle it.

The prince straps the small, metal shield to his wrist, before spinning it’s round edges until it aligns with his designated mark.

*

Malleus finds himself two days before Azul’s overblot. He knows he’ll have to do something before his heat becomes too much of an issue for him to intervene. The fae sneaks away from his guards in the middle of the night to place magic-resistance charms on the Octavinelle building; he hopes it’ll be enough to prevent your death and all its fallout.

The next two days play out just as before. Malleus finds this part of time-hopping quite tedious; the repetitive nature of reliving the same days over and over again. Although he supposes it isn’t much different than how he normally feels through the school year. Without extra events to attend, his routine is rather simple. Unchanging, even. That is the life of a fae as old as him; every day feels the same.

Some minor things feel a bit different than before: Malleus hadn’t remembered Kingscholar glaring at him from across the hall the last time around. The behaviour isn’t unusual for Leona, so Malleus doesn’t think too hard about it.

Malleus mentions to Lilia about his ‘bad feeling’ regarding Ashengrotto; he hopes it will be enough to entice him to keep watch of the situation while Malleus is forced to stay in his room and face his heat.

The prince waits in his room, staring at his stone ceiling. He anticipates the pain, but as the sky turns dark and his room is only lit by candlelight, nothing comes. His bones do not crush and his head does not splinter. He wonders if he’s made a mistake; could casting a simple spell and telling Lilia about the incident change enough to not have his heat come?

*

Malleus goes to see you once more after Ashengrotto is dealt with. He doesn’t expect to feel so…strange seeing you alive again. You thank him for the advice he’d never intended, but he can’t help but feel an unusual happiness at hearing you bring up the gargoyles.

He doesn’t see you for a while after that, but it’s difficult not to think of you. Things become busy, and so he sends you a holiday card to make up for his lack of visits. He feels oddly upset at your lack of reply. Perhaps you’ve discovered his identity and no longer wish…Malleus perishes the thought and resolves himself to return to your dorm when he can.

*

The next time you meet, snow covers the ground around Ramshackle. Something else has changed too; you look happy. He finds that the faint red that dusts your cheeks and nips at your nose… it becomes you.

When you pass him the tickets, Malleus starts to hear his pulse ring in his ears. Surely he’s misunderstood your intent? Your casual demeanour does nothing to quell his surprise.

Malleus composed himself before thanking you and promising to attend. He goes back to Diasomnia and makes Sebek vow to ensure he makes it there. He hates to use the half-fae’s devotion for his personal needs, but Malleus refuses to disrespect you by failing to attend the first event he’s been personally invited to since coming the NRC.

There’s still days before the event, but Malleus can’t stop thinking about the encounter. He is…ambivalent about you. In a way, you’ve given him hope and that is much worst than those like Kingscholar who outright reject his presence. You don’t know him, and so you do not fear him. Is it truly possible that his name and his position is all that keeps others away? Or perhaps you are special; Malleus allows himself to believe for a moment that you might accept him anyway, before banishing the thought to somewhere it will not harm him.

*

The day of the SDC, Sebek reminds him repeatedly of it’s time, and insists on guiding him to the event. Malleus declines Sebek’s request when he happens to feel a dull pain shoot against his shoulder, like he’s been hit by something heavy. He checks his body but no bruise colours his skin. Still, Malleus grows increasingly restless as he wonders, so decides to head over early.

This time, he watches your death in real time.

Schoenheit’s overblot form rages above you all. Malleus approaches the group, intending to step in, but sees the release of the poison mist a second too late. As the purple haze consumes your body, Malleus feels an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. When you fall to the ground, he feels his limbs grow weak and heavy. Suddenly, any pain is gone, and you have grown still.

The others are distracted by subduing Vil, not yet noticing your fallen form behind them. Malleus approaches you silently, and his stomach begins to turn the closer he gets. When he catches sight of the blood trailing down your left shoulder, he does not stop to help the students that now call his name.

*

Malleus turns his shield and he’s back in his room. He’s left himself a couple days before the SDC, just enough time to fix things.

Malleus wonders if you have any idea that he is your soulmate. He wonders how you would feel. Pleased? Ambivalent? Afraid?

He pauses on the last possibility and stays there until he is overwhelmed by a tight feeling in his stomach.

Part of him is angry as well. Malleus is one of the most powerful mages in this world, but the universe has decided his fate was to be bonded to a fragile human, and a magicless one at that.

He dismisses the thought as soon as it comes. No, it all makes sense. Malleus is strong precisely because you are weak; he was made to keep you safe, to protect you from anything that would seek to harm you. He knows that now.

If destiny has ensured you be bonded together, he will ensure it is forever.

*

Malleus sees you again, but now he only watches from afar. It’s strange to see you in this new light.

You are his soulmate. Someone the universe designed for him; someone who would be forced to accept him.

He casts a spell of invisibility as he approaches you, sitting outside Ramshackle with Grim. The two of you bicker gently, but Malleus is too focused on his goal to really notice. He casts charms of protection and invulnerability on you, and slips away as quickly as he can.

Malleus intends to leave, but he’s held in place by the sound of your laughter; it rings free and clear. He flees the scene before he can think too long about why the sound replays in his mind.

*

When the day of the SDC finally comes once again, Malleus is sure to enter the stadium early enough to sit in the shadows in case he needs to intervene.

His protection spells work as intended, and he only reveals itself when it’s time to reconstruct the stadium - he still has a show to watch, after all.

The others’ shock at your friendliness with him is quite amusing. Malleus imagines the surprise they’d feel if they knew you were his soulmate too.

Although he hadn’t really wanted to do it this way, Malleus figured that it’s necessary to reveal his real identity to you now; if you are to be his forever, there’s no reason to spare you the details.

Your continued use of the former nickname you’d given him pleases Malleus. It confirms to him what he’d believed - soulmates were obligated to love each other, no matter what. Even the fearful reactions of your friends did not serve to deter you from him. How could they? The two of you were meant to be.

*

In the days following the SDC, Malleus contemplates how to tell you that the two of you are soulmates. The matter is rather delicate and although the two of you are in a good place, he’d rather not reverse his progress.

He decides to consult Lilia, who is both surprised and overjoyed when Malleus shares the news. His guardian advises him not to rush into things, but rather to begin a courting process before revealing the truth, so as to not scare you away. Unfortunately, Malleus doesn’t have much experience in the area.

His first strategy is one traditional of his family; the giving of gifts over a period of seven days. Malleus sends letters back to Briar Valley to bring him the most expensive and desirable collection of jewelry and artifacts in the royal family’s care. Malleus’ grandmother writes back in congratulations and sends what he requested.

Unfortunately, he failed to account for the cultural differences between fae and humans. One night as he stops to chat with you outside Ramshackle, you pull out one of the gifts he’d left at your doorstep: an ancient necklace, said to be blessed by the original thorn fairy herself.

Malleus prepares himself to finally reveal the truth to you, excited that you’ve finally acknowledged his courting.

Then you tell him that you’re afraid you have a stalker and ask if he’s seen anyone lurking around Ramshackle, claiming that ‘cursed’ objects have been left anonymously at your doorstep.

Malleus takes a moment to compose himself (it’s a little rude of you to call his gift ‘cursed’) before promising to keep a look out.

He goes to Silver that very night to ask him about human courting rituals. Silver explains the concept of ‘dating’ to Malleus, and that night, the prince asks you to accompany him to dinner at the Mostro Lounge.

Malleus feels the excitement bloom in his chest when, after walking you home from dinner, you ask him to attend a play with you the following week.

*

The two of you go on many dates, until he’s begun spending the free time he has at Ramshackle.

Sitting on your couch, he makes a mental note to make renovations to some of the older furniture when he has a chance. He’d like to preserve the ruins look of the building, but not at the cost of your discomfort.

The doorbell rings, and you’re jumping off the couch to answer the door. Ace and Deuce stand outside with bags of snacks in hand. They smile at you, but just a bit of that happiness drops at the sight of him on the couch.

Your best friends haven’t exactly taken well to his newfound presence. The feeling isn’t entirely not mutual - it’s them who should apologize for taking so much of your time. You’re his soulmate after all, not theirs. You usher them inside and they take a seat on the chairs farthest from the couch.

“Sorry, Malleus, I totally forgot I made plans with them to come over earlier. Is it possible for us to watch the movie another time?”

“Of course, my love,” Malleus says, watching intently as your friends wince at the pet name. “I will see you tomorrow for tea with Lilia?”

At your nod, a small smirk rises to his face as he approaches you, dropping a small kiss on your lips as he departs. He notes the embarrassed and disgruntled look your friends faces; as much as he hates to let them see you in any intimate way, he needs them to know their place before he leaves.

*

One day, Malleus walks in on Deuce holding you. Your arms are awkwardly grasping at his shoulders, and he grips underneath your arms. It’s clear you’ve fallen, and yet Malleus can’t help but let the picture freeze in his mind; it burns into his memory.

Deuce helps you stand properly before the two of you let go of each other. You apologize and thank him awkwardly; the two of you haven’t even noticed him.

Malleus greets you from the doorway and both of you flinch in surprise. You gesture him inside, telling him all about the ‘funny story’ that just happened with Deuce.

He tries to sleep that night, but every time he closes his eyes, Malleus sees you in Deuce’s arms. He knows there’s nothing between you; it was an accident, and you love him after all.

*

Malleus makes the decision to reveal that he’s your soulmate the next time you two are alone. That happens to be two days later, once again on the Ramshackle couch.

He told you he wanted to discuss something serious, and he feels terrible at how anxious you look from across the table. Malleus wordlessly takes a small needle he’d brought with him and gently pricks his index finger.

You just stare at him, bewildered. Malleus takes your hand, flipping it palm-side up. No red pools on your finger, and no indentation appears either.

It’s his turn to stare in confusion. Every time you’ve been injured, he’s felt it. All your deaths, he’s felt. You’re human, you should not be healing this fast. He tells you as much.

“Is-Is this about soulmates, Malleus?” Your eyes flick up to his, voice wavering a bit. You glance back down to your lap as your hand rises to scratch at your neck. “In my world, we don’t have soulmates. I’m sorry, I should’ve been honest with you before, but I was worried that if you knew I wasn’t your soulmate that you wouldn’t want to be together anymore.”

The words echo in his ears, but he can’t understand them. A world without soulmates…? But how?

“I’m sorry to ask this of you, but will you prick your finger. Just a tiny amount will do.”

“Malleus, I-“

“And please, keep an eye on my hand.”

You frown but nod. You prick your hand, wincing at the sensation, eyes flicking down to his own finger, eyes taking in the slight prick that appeared before quickly closing.

Malleus holds his breath as your face blooms into a myriad of emotions: confusion, shock, uncertainty, and finally a smile.

You launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in his very first kiss, and for once, Malleus does not think. He only feels the brush of your soft lips against his own inexperienced ones, following your lead. The moment lasts forever in his mind, but you still pull away too soon.

“Malleus, I’m sorry you’re not my soulmate but I’m so happy you’re mine~”

Your words unsettle him, but before he can think of it too long, you pull him into another kiss.

*

Things pass normally for a few days; the two of you continue to go on dates and avoid the subject of soulmates.

Malleus fears the worst when the campus is invaded, but rushing over to Ramshackle, his anxiety is temporarily relieved at the sight of you still on campus. You cry to him about Grim and he frets over your injuries - however mild, any threat to you is worth dealing with.

He begs you to stay at Diasomnia since your dorm was destroyed but you refuse. You insist on staying at Ramshackle and even ask that he not stay alongside you, promising that you can handle yourself. Malleus almost does it anyway, but Lilia warns him to give you space in your grief and worry for Grim and your friends

*

He visits you one last time before he’s forced to stay with Diasomnia as their dorm leader. Malleus closes his eyes as he pulls you into his arms. Now that he’s had you close, being apart always feels like there’s something missing in his life, a lingering anxiety in the back of his mind that keeps scratching at his brain and ignoring the rational side of him.

The two of you stand in silence, wrapped around each other, until you pull away a couple minutes later. Giving his hand one last squeeze, you slip a pink, string bracelet on his arm, asking Malleus to keep it safe until you seem him again before encouraging him to return to help his dorm.

Malleus tries to leave but feels himself pause in the doorway. He looks back at you, sitting on your bed and staring at your phone, and gets a bad feeling.

It’s just paranoia, he rationalizes. You’ve been through so much, he can’t lose you again. But this time, you’re here and away from the action. Nothing will be able to harm you anymore while you’re on the same campus as him.

Malleus still silently casts a couple of protection spells on you before he takes his leave again.

*

He isn’t able to visit for some time after that, with his dorm leader responsibilities leaving him occupied. He knows your protection spells haven’t activated, so he tries to reassure himself while being away from you. He sends Lilia to check on you, and his guardian returns confirming your health.

Two days later, Malleus sits at a table with Lilia, Sebek, and Silver when he feels it. There is no pain, only a chill that seeps deep into his bones, stopping him mid-sentence. He feels everything at once: fear, despair, and finally, relief. The table remains silent as Malleus is struck with emotion, the others watching him in concern.

“Malleus? It is unbecoming for the future king of Briar Valley to be lost in thought mid-conversation.” Lilia speaks with a light-hearted tone, but Malleus barely hears him.

“Something is wrong with them. I know it,” Malleus whispers, mostly to himself. “No, no. They’re still on campus, that can’t be. You confirmed this yourself, right Lilia?”

Lilia’s pause kindles the fire of Malleus’ worst fear.

“I’m sorry, Malleus. They needed to help their friends, and they knew you would never allow it. But the rest of them are strong, I never thought-“

*

The confirmation comes three hours later when the rest of the students arrive back from the Island of Woe. Lilia and Malleus rush to the group of students gathered to greet their fellow dorm mates.

You are noticeably absent.

He barely hears their words, their explanation about your sacrifice, and your fall into the underworld.

He sees the shocked faces of the other students (even Kingscholar, lacking his usual smirk), and Lilia is ushering him away before he can even think about the wetness dripping down his cheeks. Out of the corner of his eye, Malleus sees Leona try to reach them, but they are too fast for him.

The tears come full force once they’ve teleported back to Diasomnia, but he does not sob. Malleus Draconia is not someone who cries. He wipes the wetness off his face, before turning to Lilia.

“We’ll need to wipe their memories as soon as possible. The future king of Briar Valley cannot be remembered to be so…emotional.”

The cold neutrality of Malleus’ tone shakes even Lilia. He continues to stand, staring at the wall in concentration.

Lilia places a hand on the prince’s shoulder: “Malleus, please sit down. You need to rest after what’s happened. The others can wait-“

“No, no, I won’t have to, I’ll go back again and fix things. It’s simple,” Malleus says, mostly to himself.

“Go back? Malleus, please, what are you saying?” Lilia grabs on to both of Malleus’ shoulders, but he does not break free of his conviction. “You don’t mean-“ Malleus’ lack of response confirms his suspicions. “That watch has never been meant to be used, Malleus! It was for world-ending emergencies, for a threat to your kingdom! You have no idea what you’ve done, the cost you’ve had to pay-“

“I’ll see you soon, Lilia, and all will be right again.”

“You don’t understand! If the prefect continues to die after you’ve already intervened, then that is fate! Nothing you do to change time will change the fact that they aren’t meant to survive.”

“…Change time? No, we’ve moved beyond that, Lilia. I’m not going to change time, I’m going to break it.”

-

“I will help the new prefect,” the student says. “I’ll show them to Ramshackle.”

You are sure that if Crowley’s face were not concealed by his mask it would be frozen in an expression of shock that mirrors the rest of the students.

“Uh, Draconia, that is very…kind of you, but it seems like a lot to trouble yourself with. You are very much needed here for orientation. Perhaps one of our vice housewardens might take care of it?” Crowley looks around but no one steps up to contradict this ‘Draconia.’

“I will be going now. Lilia, please handle the new students.”

Before anyone can further question his decision, Draconia puts a hand on your shoulder and guides you out of the room, leaving behind silence.

*

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Draconia? You think you can just- what, change the world to your perfect dream? Change time again and again just because of the prefect? These are people’s lives you’re playing with! We’re not here to be subjected to your stupid whims.”

Malleus turns around to face Leona.

“And what, pray tell, do you plan to do about it?”

“I’m not afraid of you, overgrown lizard. You know it isn’t right, forcing us to play these roles that you’ve designed. And the prefect? Forcing them to be with you? You think-”

“Do I need to remove those petty claws of yours, Kingscholar? In fact, I bet you barely remember why you’re here.”

Leona’s face tells all Malleus he needs to know: “I-I know you’ve done something. My head, it just won’t clear-”

“It’s best if you forget about it and play along. We wouldn’t want you to cause more problems for yourself and your friends. The prefect is easily upset - I wouldn’t want to have to do anything bad to keep the world perfect for my soulmate.”

“Hey Leona,” Ruggie says, jogging up to the group before noticing Malleus. He stays close to Leona as he whispers to him: “You got class in ten. You know Crewel will freak if you miss again.”

Leona glances back at Malleus before reluctantly following Ruggie.

*

You try to be subtle as you sneak glances at him, but you don’t think you’re very successful. You don’t have a clue why this- well you don’t know very much about him but considering everyone else’s reactions - probably very powerful fae has taken an interest in you. He doesn’t glance back as he walks in front of you. The two of you continue that way until you suddenly run into something hard. You squeak out an apology but Draconia does not turn around or explain why he’s stopped. His question breaks the silence.

“Are you happy, prefect?”

“…Happy? I-I mean, I don’t know. I have these memories but…something feels off. Something is missing or different and I have no idea what. The headmaster claims I was always a student here, I just had some kind of injury but - this person doesn’t feel like me. I know these halls but I was not the one to walk them. I feel- Ah, I’m so sorry! I don’t even know you, why am I going on like this! Please forgive me, uh, sorry again but I haven’t gotten your name.”

“Malleus,” he says, “Malleus Draconia.”

“Sorry Malleus. We can continue to…my dorm. Thank you for volunteering to take me.”

You wait for Malleus to continue walking down the hall, but he only turns around. You are taken aback by the piercing gaze of his eyes: he looks at you as though he is searching for something lost deep in you.

Malleus pulls a needle out of his robes, and you begin to sweat. He doesn’t look at you, only holding the needle to his hand before using it to prick his index finger.

You wince as you feel a prick on your own finger, swiping over the pooling blood with your thumb before looking back up at him in realization.

“You- You’re my soulmate? Malleus, that’s- How did you even know? Is this-”

You’re interrupted by a large form enveloping your body. Malleus’ arms squeeze you so tight it becomes harder to breathe. You struggle instinctively, wanting this stranger to stop smothering you. Regardless of being your soulmate, you barely know him.

He lets you go, pulling away before taking your wrist and slipping a string bracelet onto your arm.

“Everything is as it should be. There’s no need to worry, my soulmate, you are exactly where you should be, and with who you should be with.”

[delcakoo]

stupefy ‧₊˚ ⚡︎𓈒 p.js

for the anon who requested ravenclaw reader getting locked in a closer w slytherin jay, hope u find this :c

SUMMARY ! playing spin the bottle with your brother and his troublemaking companions results in you getting locked in a closet with his best friend, who seems to have noticed your staring throughout the night.

PAIRING ! slytherin!jay x ravenclaw!f!reader

WC ! 1.4K

GENRE ! sprinkle of fluff (?), slight suggestive, implied sexual themes from hee’s friends

WARNINGS ! making out, jay pulls your tie (so rude smh), he’s only cocky for a bit then he’s a blushy loser, mc is teased for being ravenclaw, hees being a terrible brother + his friends are just as bad

a/n: WHY DO I ALWAYS DELETE ASKS I FEEL SO BAD :c take this tiny jay fic cuz of anon’s indulging in my slytherin jay antics grhrgehbrgh

“YOUR TURN, Y/N!”

instead of being asleep like the rest of your nerdy house was, you were down in the potions room playing spin the bottle with the slytherins — or more specifically, your older brother heeseung and his annoyingly loud friends.

you've come to know a few of them quite well, especially one named park jay. it was as if the boy was sculpted by a greek god; perfect pointy nose and jawline sharper than a snake’s fang, cat-like eyes always seemingly harsh enough to pierce right into your very soul.

you were almost in a trance side-eyeing him half the night, but the sound of your name makes your head snap up, nervously adjusting your glasses, "h-huh?

“aw, look at the lil' raven," a girl named karina hisses in amusement, "it's your turn, cutie. don't be shy." you'd think heeseung, being your older brother and all, would stand up for you by now and tell his friends to play nice. but the slytherin male only smirked just as evilly as the rest of his housemates, staring down at you through his wavy black bangs without a hint of empathy. it really was a wonder how the two of you were even related.

as you gulp and move to grab the bottle, you feel jay's gaze sharpen on you even further.

please, please, anybody but him. you doubt you'd survive being in the supply closet with jay for more than a minute, any more than that and you'd probably faint on the spot.

with a last shaky breath you release the bottle, everyone turning silent as the glass quietly spins and spins. before you know it, the bottle begins slowing down. it goes past everyone at the table: first sunghoon.. karina…. heeseung.. yeonjun..

you freeze.

the bottle stops, and in utter horror, you look up to see the face of park jay smirking down at you, mischief evident in his shimmering pupils. of course your luck had to fall down the drain at the worst times, it was all too predictable. karina cackles, “yah, isn’t this too mean? jay, go easy on her!”

you desperately look at your big brother, who you always looked up to for help, but the emotionless boy is already pushing you towards the supply closet with a sinful grin, sunghoon doing the same to jay next to you. “w— hold on, hee i don’t want—“

“have fun!” slam.

you continue staring at the locked door, dumbstruck as the voices of the other slytherin’s slowly fade away. in one hopeless attempt of desperation, you reach up to test the handle a few times. the last source of light illuminating the room full of strange ingredients and liquids was a single hanging lantern, only increasing the dreadful mood.

“sunghoon has the key,” a raspy voice provides. you turn, eyes finally locking with jay’s as he perchs up against the wall, arms crossed calmly. you weren’t sure what it is you were expecting from this unlucky scenario, but it definitely wasn’t the usually wreckless slytherin maintaining a respectful distance from you.

though you notice that unlike your brother, his gaze reflected genuine emotion; a hint of pity showing through his pupils as you glue yourself to the ground anxiously. he looks even more perfect up close despite his untucked shirt and loose green tie, black cloak almost falling off on one side.

it’s tranquil for another moment before jay speaks up again, running ring-attired fingers through his raven bangs. “why were you staring at me?”

your mind blanks, unprepared for such a sudden call out. “i.. i wasn’t.. i didn’t stare at you,” you mumble pathetically.

the slytherin looks at you again with a knowing simper. you swear he whispered ‘cute’ under his breath, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it before he replied, “during spin the bottle,” jay refers. “don’t think i didn’t notice. your little glasses don’t hide anything.” with no response, you tilt your head down in shame and embarrassment.

suddenly, the boy pushes off the wall, stalking towards you ever so slowly. when you try to step back in response, a shelf full of potions nearly tips over as your back stabs into it.

you gasp at the contact, facing forward again to see jay right up in your space, hands pinning your sides in with a brow raised. “do you have a crush on me or something?”

you choke in horror, “what!? no!” he brings his face even closer to yours, watching for a reaction. when you don’t bother making an effort to escape or even turn your head away, he chuckles, small fangs poking through his pink lips as he realises you want this just as much as him.

before you can process it, the boy has taken your perfectly done blue tie through his fingers, rubbing down the material leisurely. “tsk tsk tsk.. little ravenclaws like you shouldn’t lie, could get you in trouble.” he suddenly yanks your tie harshly, grasping the material as you’re tugged towards him with a yelp, lips centimetres from his plump ones. “i can feel your heart racing,” he snickers.

you aren’t sure how you haven’t passed out yet; he was undeniably stunning up close, black bangs covering bits of his eyes, tongue poking out to moisten his chapped lips as he holds you against the shelf.

with a breathy exhale, you slowly reach a hand up to place against his own defined torso, grinning at the feeling of his own heart beating rapidly out of his chest. ”i can feel yours too,” you fire back teasingly.

at that, his smug expression staggers for a moment, processing your boldness in surprise. then, he smiles, reaching up to push a loose hair strand behind your ear. “caught me there.”

your smile grows a fraction. “jay,” you mutter, glancing at the locked door. the slytherin hums in acknowledgment, the sharp tip of his nose poking your own. “can you..”

he waits, “can i what, princess?”

you swallow, fingers wrapping all the way around the large wrist that’s calmly raking through your hair. “kiss me?”

jay’s cocky smirk returns, tilting his head evilly, “what’s the magic word? c’mon, ravenclaw’s should know all their manners,” he taunts.

your jaw ticks in irritation. instead of doing as the taller boy asks, you don’t think twice before switching your positions, pressing him into the shelf while kissing him just as you please.

jay groans in alarm at the feeling of your soft lips moving against his, visibly having an inner debate on teaching you a lesson or letting you have your fun. it seems he chooses the second option, allowing your hands to roam into his jet black roots while gently cupping your cheek as if you were a vase; broken into pieces if he touched you any rougher.

after a couple minutes more, you separate for air, staring at each other with glazed out irises. it was clear who had more experience; jay breathing half steadily while you nearly pant your lungs out, lifting a hand to wipe your steamed up glasses.

“do you think your brother’s gonna beat me up?” he suddenly asks, though not looking scared in the slightest.

you scoff in amusement, “no, he doesn’t care about me. he’s the one who pushed me in here, remember?” feeling irritated by the mere thought of heeseung, you step closer again to kiss him and distract the both of you, right when a lock clicking reaches your ears.

the closet is aggressively jerked open, a flood of light shining into the storage room. “time’s up, jay! get off the poor thing—“

everyone peeping into the closet pauses in confusion, taking in the sight of you caging a boy much bigger than you against a shelf, lips swollen and hair a mess as jay blushes in humiliation, pushing you off of him.

first sunghoon giggles, then heeseung begins to cackle, before they’re all laughing, grabbing jay’s shoulders and pushing him around, pinching his red cheeks and ruffling his hair even further. “getting pushed around by hee’s little sister? a ravenclaw, really bro?” yeonjun snickers playfully.

with that, the group of slytherin’s begin to walk off without sparing you another glance, much too preoccupied teasing the black haired boy. you begin to chuckle for a moment, feeling proud of yourself until through the midst of the chaos, jay meets your eyes furiously.

he rudely points at you, then raises it to his neck, making a cut throat motion.

you had a terrible feeling this wouldn’t be your last encounter with your brother’s best friend.

if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always appreciated and motivating <3

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[choose-wiselyyy]

he’s ok

—Close ups below the cut

[slasherbvnnie]

Ordinary Love Story

Ghostface has his eye on you. You have your eye on someone else, someone who goes by the name Ethan Landry. The nerdy, curly haired boy who took your heart. Little do you know, he was one of three behind the mask.

Part II

Warnings: gore, dubcon, yandere-ish? ethan, somewhat naive reader,

Ethan Landry x f!reader

In his head, this was like any other love story. Boy goes to college, boy meets girl, girl befriends him, boy falls for girl, boy has a hard time making girl fall for him. But tonight, it was the first time you finally began to fall. When you saw him and his eyes locked onto yours, you felt that weakness in your knees. It wasn’t long before you fell, all because of him.

His eyes watched you, while everything around the two of you moved at a fast pace, his eyes slowed and focused on you. He took notice of the beads of sweat on your skin, the way your chest was heaving up and down- your struggle to breathe, he even noticed your piercing scream when he approached. Your arms flailed, trying desperately to fight him off as he stepped towards you. His hands grabbed your wrist, the black fabric leaving a stinging carpet burn against your skin at how tightly he held onto you. “Shut. Up,” The voice behind the mask seethed out, to you the words were filled with venom and a promise that you would be dead soon, to him- it broke everything in him to have such a tone when speaking to you.

You let out a cry, kicking your feet helplessly as his other hand clamped over your mouth. When you had stepped away from the group, you hadn’t expected to see a mangled guy in Quinn’s bathroom tub. You had to use the restroom and the others were taken in the apartment, so Quinn was your last resort, unlucky for you- this one was taken as well. Quinn was on the floor, you couldn’t even tell who’s blood was who’s, which only made you even more scared and nauseous. However, when you saw the masked figure in the corner, you fell on the bloodied tiled floor, and with no other experiences where you had to fight for your life, your bodied panicked and shut down. Panic attacks were common for you, you just wished that this once it had happened at a better time. “You want to survive, don’t you,” the killer asked, you barely understood them but nodded anyways.

“then shut the fuck up and play along,” they told you, your eyes darted to the black holes in their mask, searching for their eyes, searching for humanity. You weren’t lucky in finding it, your vision was blurred thanks to the adrenaline in your veins, so you stayed quiet and complied, hoping it would at least buy you time.

“Good girl,” a hummed praise made it’s way to your ears, you sucked in another breath as you felt their knife run across your body. “Don’t move,” they said, their voice once again harsh as they made tears in your clothes, their knife was still bloodied, leaving the warm liquid against your skin and clothes. “Just stay still for me, you’ll make it out alive,” another hum left them, another nod left you.

It seemed like a game, one a cat plays with a mouse, entertain your prey before the final killing strike. You didn’t know if they were toying with you, making you pliable and all that much more fun to kill when they see that look of betrayal on your face. What you never guessed however was their want to pull off the mask, to let you see his face when he told you everything would be okay, to promise to you that no one would harm you.

When he was done dressing you in the blood, making sure you looked like a proper victim of ghostface- one he didn’t get the chance to ruin yet- he got up. “Don’t make a fucking noise. One noise and you’re done, along with your friends,” they threatened, you nodded. You flinched as they cleaned the knife, a small chuckle leaving his lips. At that moment you two heard noises near the door, you closed your eyes, holding your hands over your mouth to ensure you wouldn’t let out a cry for help.

You heard the door open, screams, and the rest of your friends panicking.

It felt like hours passed by until you heard the sirens. You heard footsteps, you saw an officer. You saw him break down as he saw Quinn’s body along with the scene in the tub. Another officer helped you out of the room, you saw the black body bags being wheeled out of the apartment. It was a little longer until you saw the rest of the group, minus Anika.

Before you even had the chance to step out of the back of the ambulance and asked what happened, Ethan approached the group only to get manhandled and questioned by Chad. Your eyebrows raised in surprise at his accusatory tone, watching Ethan trip over his words and try to explain himself. At the mention of econ, you remembered the nerdy boy asked you a question about some of the assignments given to you, going up to Chad and placing your hand on his back. “He’s not lying, he asked me for help just an hour or something before, a-about econ,” you said, Chad looking at you with narrowed eyes before backing off of Ethan.

Ethan coughed, looking to you and moving closer. “Uh, thanks, I appreciate you helping me out of a beating,” he thanked you, making you smile slightly for the first time in hours. “Is…is everything okay, I mean. Obviously not but…” Ethan gave up on speaking, looking to you expectantly. You sighed, feeling your eyes well up with tears as you shrugged. “I mean, I’m…physically okay, they- it…it was weird,” you spoke, gaining his interest when he tilted his head up.

“weird,” he questioned, you nodded.

“They, they let me survive…this, the clothes- they’re not…from them stabbing me,” you explained, pointing to the tears and bloodied holes in your clothes. Ethan’s eyes tracked over your body, taking in the sight of you, his eyes sparkling as he looked you over. “Why?” He asked, you shrugged.

“I’m not sure…they just- told me to shut up and I would live,” a sigh escaped you as Ethan hummed, moving with you to the rest of the group. “I’m glad they let you live, it must’ve been hell last night for you,” he said as you brought your hand up to your face, wiping away your tears. “Yeah, felt like forever,” you said, leaning on his shoulder, feeling exhaustion take over you. He welcomed in the small touch, letting you rest against him, his hand slowly wrapping around you to help you stand. The rest of the group were talking, trading ideas on what to do, who it was, why they were targeting you guys. Even Ethan’s name came up a few times from Mindy and Chad, which didn’t sit easy in your stomach. You didn’t like their accusations, but at the same time it was hard to stomach the thought that the vicious killer was him.

“Shit, Ethan, can I use your phone? I had…I had a class today,” you asked, to which Ethan gladly gave his phone to you. You went to safari, going onto the school’s website and putting in your login information, not noticing that the one already logged in wasn’t under the name Ethan Landry.

[lizzyk137]

I'll Be There for You - A Spencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer Reid X Reader)

Description: You and Spencer had become friends since he moved into your building. Slowly you fell for him only for him to find someone else. Warnings: Mentions of- death, depression. Angst and jealousy.

Part Two! Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Perfection.

That's what you thought every time you saw your next-door neighbor. Pure perfection.

You knew who he was exactly. A FBI agent, part of the BAU, one of the greatest minds on the planet and he was your next-door neighbor.

He had just moved in a few months ago and ever since then, you'd catch yourself looking through your windows to see him walking off the bus and then running to the door to hear him walk up the stairs, only to open your door just as he was fumbling with his keys to do some mysterious tasks just so you could talk to him.

The first time you ever saw him was when he was unloading his stuff out of a moving van with a few friends, who you've come to know were his co-workers and practically his family. You were pulling up on your bike after a quick morning ride, to see the most gorgeous man turn to look at you as you braked the closer you got.

"Hello!" A cheerful blonde called out as you locked your bike near the entrance of your apartment building.

"Hi!" You had said quietly, suddenly getting nervous as four people, including the supermodel of a man, turned to look at you. You felt like they were looking you all over, analyzing you, which you had come to find out that they naturally do to everyone since it's their job.

"I'm Penelope! This is my friend Spencer; he's moving into the building!" The blonde said with the biggest smile plastered on her face. She was bubbly and confident which made you nervous since you were neither of those things.

"I'm Y/n, I live in 13B. It's nice to meet you." You briefly made eye contact with Spencer's sunglasses covered eyes before looking back down at your hands nervously.

"Did you know in most cultures 13 is considered an unlucky number and the bringer of bad luck? Most buildings skip the 13th floor entirely and most places don't number a house or apartment as the number 13 since it could bring bad luck to the area?" Spencer stated, looking at you.

"Um, I did know that actually. 13 is one of my favourite numbers and I also own a black cat too. So hopefully you don't have to be my neighbor." You chuckled trying to make a joke. The others laughed but Spencer just stood there looking at you.

"Actually, my apartment is number 11, and with how the building is organized with odd numbers on the left and even numbers on the right, I am more than likely your neighbor. Plus, I also don't believe in superstitions since there is no scientific proof that they harbor any bad luck."

You nodded. "Oh... well, um did you guys need any help with your stuff?" You motioned with your head to the van filled with boxes labeled books. "There is a service elevator just on the other side of the building that we can use to bring in the larger stuff."

"Thanks, that would be a big help." A handsome-looking gentleman said. "The name's Morgan." He said winking at you.

A dark-haired woman shook her head at Morgan, then said, "Why don't we pull out what we can and do an assembly line to the apartment then we can use the elevator for the larger furniture?"

"Sounds good!" Penelope said and everyone broke away from the huddle to start pulling boxes out.

After that day, the apartment next to yours was quiet. The front door never opened or closed, and you worried that your new neighbor was dead. Worried after the fifth day of not hearing anything you knocked on the door to no reply.

You had called your landlord and asked him if the next door was vacant since you were certain that no living soul was in there. He said Spencer was still renting and gave you his number to call.

You sent out a text two days later, hoping that he wasn't dead next door.

'Hi, this is Y/N from unlucky apartment 13. I just wanted to make sure you were okay since there's been no noise for the past week. I hope my bad luck didn't reach you!'

You tried keeping it light and friendly, hoping that your worrying didn't lead to the real thing happening.

You received a reply a day later to your surprise and relief.

'Hi, unlucky number thirteen. No, the bad luck has not caught up with me. I've been away on a case and have yet to be home. Thanks for checking up on me!'

You chuckled at the message and from then on you and Spencer exchanged texts every hour cracking small jokes.

It wasn't until you heard the keys jingle outside the door a few days later that you bolted out of your window seat and opened the door to find an exhausted Spencer trying to unlock his door.

He was so tired he didn't even realize you had been standing there watching him struggle for a few minutes until you cleared your throat making him jump, dropping his keys in the process.

You reached down to pick them up, and your hair flipped out of your face giving him the best view to see your beautiful smile light up your face as you handed him his keys back. He cleared his throat, hoping his face wasn't red even though it felt like it was burning. "Thanks." He mumbled and opened the door quickly only for it to open a foot.

Inside you could see boxes piled up blocking any sort of passage through.

Spencer tried to shimmy his way in but eventually had to put his back to the door, bracing himself as he pushed it open with his body.

"Did you want any help unpacking?" You ask chuckling as the maze of boxes piled up.

Spencer tilted his head to look at you then let out a tired breath. "Honestly, I'd love that, but I'm exhausted. I haven't slept in the past couple of days. If the offer still stands in the next couple of days, I'll take you up on it." He put on a small smile for you to show he appreciated your offer.

You nodded lightly, "Let me know when you're all set, I'd be more than glad to set a few hours aside to help you!"

And he did let you know a few days later. You heard a soft knock on the door and could hear him pace back and forth for a second while you pulled a blanket over your thin tank top and short shorts.

"Spencer?" You said surprised as you pulled open the door to reveal a very nervous man.

He wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat. "Does the offer still stand to help unpack? I tried unpacking myself and it is not going that well." His voice was barely a whisper at the end, and you ended up laughing a bit at how nervous he was.

He gulped at the sight of you laughing at what he said, hoping he didn't seem inadequate at something so simple as packing.

"I told you the offer would still stand so there is no need to be nervous, plus packing always goes better when you do it with someone. " You chuckled and closed your apartment door behind him.

He didn't move from where he was, so you ended up knocking into him a little bit. "Whoops, sorry!" You said trying to take a step back but there was nowhere to go with how close Spencer was to you.

He just continued to stare at you and then cleared his throat taking a step back. He headed back to his apartment as you followed behind in your fuzzy slippers. He opened the door as much as he could and held it open for you to shimmy inside. Your chest moving as you nudged your way inside made his face instantly heat up and his eyes go wide as he tore his eyes away from your thin top.

'Get it together Spencer. She's helping you out, it's not time to check her out.' He thought to himself shaking his head as the image flashed back into his head.

"So where do you want to start?" Your voice rang out to him, making the thought of your chest disappear.

"Um," his voice cracked a bit as he tried to control it, "I think we should start in the kitchen since it has the most breakable stuff."

He led the way to the kitchen and you both started tearing through boxes and pulling out items, asking him where he would want things to which he was clueless on what would go better where so he left it up to you. In fact, he left every part of his house up to you on how it should be arranged. He just followed your orders and moved items to where they needed to go, his face turning bright red when you'd catch him staring at you making you blush slightly.

After that, Spencer and you became close friends and frequented each other's apartments often for movie night, to play games, to talk or just to read each other's massive collection of books. After a while, you both had a key to each other's house and you'd often find Spencer in your reading corner, which you had put a special chair just for him in, and he would find you making something delicious in his kitchen as you sang along to some k-pop song off-key.

You both grew to be best friends, closer than he and JJ were, and he'd often take you to team functions as his plus one. You were slowly falling in love with the tall nerdy genius, and you thought he felt the same way until one day he mentioned a girl that he was talking to.

Maeve.

Movie nights turned into Maeve nights. Nightly walks were only to phone booths where you would sit outside on the curb waiting for Spencer to be done, and weekly bookstore trips were only to look for a book Maeve suggested in her nightly phone calls.

Soon everything you once did together started going away and Spencer wasn't the same guy you first fell for.

You'd make him dinners for when he'd come back home from cases only for none of it to be touched. Books you bought that you knew he was waiting to be released would be left untouched and piling up on the table by the door.

The team would fill you in and let you know he was okay at least once a week since you never saw or heard from him anymore.

Sure, you were happy that Spencer found someone, it broke your heart that it wasn't you, but you were still happy for your friend. But soon, Spencer didn't want your company as he used to want it. Everything slowly was crumbling, and you were left in the dark from him.

It lasted for ten months before it all stopped. No noise, no movement, not even a breath was heard in the apartment next to yours. The team would come by, and he wouldn't open up his door to any of them.

Maeve died and Spencer was broken.

It lasted like that for months. You tried not to linger by his door on your way to and from work. You tried not to care too deeply for someone that dropped you months ago. You tried your hardest not to think about Spencer Reid. And it almost worked.

You were putting on your heels for a night out with the girls. In the last few months, the girls of the BAU team became super close even with Emily flying in every so often to meet up. Penelope had suggested a girl's night out with dinner, drinking and dancing. The three D's as she liked to call it. And for someone lucky they got the fourth D at the end of the night, and in PG terms she called it dessert.

Looking into the mirror, you looked back at yourself checking every part of your outfit over. A tight, sparkly black over the shoulder sleeved mini dress with black strappy heels. You had gone all out on your makeup, something one of your friends from college taught you how to do to get extra money on the weekends, and you had curled your hair in loose waves.

You sighed, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, a bit uncomfortable with how much skin was showing. You had been slowly building your confidence up the last few months you spent with Spencer since he showed you that it was okay to be you and that you didn't have to hide it, and you were trying to keep building confidence up even though he wasn't there anymore.

Your phone buzzed and you saw that it was Penelope messaging you that they were there. Grabbing your bag and stuffing your phone inside you headed out and stopped to look at Spencer's door, littered with baskets of self-care stuff and dead flowers. You missed him, but the door was a reflection of what he wanted, to close everyone out and drown out the world.

Dinner went by in a flash, full of laughter and drinks, and you were headed to the club when Penelope shrieked besides you.

"You okay, hun?" You asked chuckling at the girl next to you that was practically hyperventilating.

Instead of giving you an answer she just waved her phone around until JJ grabbed it and looked at what was pulled up. "Wow..." JJ mumbled. She showed you and Emily what seemed to be a picture. Emily blew it up and there all the guys from the BAU including Will were lined up on the wall dressed up in suits with stern expressions on their face.

"Daddy Morgan is looking so fine." Penelope whispered causing you to laugh loudly.

"Oh my god, is that Spencer?" Emily gasped.

All four of you leaned closer in to look at the line up of men. Morgan, Rossi, Hotch, Will and Spencer. Morgan had his best smolder on, Rossi did not look pleased to be there, Hotch looked tired, Will stood there like a deer in headlights and Spencer looked so tired that it broke your heart a little.

"I know, I know I said it was a girl's night but the boys were getting Spencer out of the house and at least out doing normal human things so I said they could tag along. Please don't be mad." Giving you her best pleading look.

"I think it's a good idea to get Spencer out of the house. Y/N is that okay with you?" JJ asked you concerned. She could see you tense up after Penelope said she invited them.

Nodding your head as a reply you looked back at the picture on Penelope's phone staring a hole into Spencer's digital self until you had to see the real thing.

You made it through the club's line quicker than expected, all thanks to Emily flirting with the female bouncer, and you headed inside, music blaring, to find the table the guys reserved for you. Emily could see you fidgeting with your bag, so she pulled you over to the bar and ordered a round of shots. "Liquid courage." She said as she handed you a glass. You ended up downing five shots and one mixed drink until Emily pulled you over to the table to drop your bags off to dance.

"Damn, princess, you are looking good." Morgan whistled to you, winking as you shrugged playfully.

"I see you girls are dressed up nicely, did we interrupt girls' night?" Rossi asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Kind of, but we can still pull in our catch." Emily winked as she replied back.

Your eyed slowly drifted around the table as everyone engaged in conversations with each other until your eyes landed on Spencer who was staring at you with his jaw locked. You stared at each other for a few minutes before you felt a light touch on your shoulder. Looking up, you saw a handsome man smiling down at you.

"Hi, Y/N, right? I'm Jesse, we met at the bookstore last week."

"Oh, hi!" The table growing silent as they eyed the newcomer at the table, and you knew they were unintentionally profiling him. You could feel Spencer's eyes drilled into your back.

"I just saw you and was hoping it was you. I wanted to thank you for that book recommendation for my class! Surprisingly the sixth graders enjoyed it."

"I'm so glad to hear that! I read it to my class not too long ago and they loved it!"

Jesse nodded and looked up at the table. "Oh, I'm being rude. I'll leave ya be to your friends!"

"No, no! That's okay!" Penelope practically screamed out. "Y/N was looking for someone to dance with, if you want to dance." You swerved in your seat to give her a death glare before politely smiling back up at Jesse.

Jesse chuckled, "Um, if you want to dance, I'd like to accompany you." He extended his hand out and you gently took it letting him lead you to the dance floor.

Spencer scoffed, as he watched you two walked away. Rossi eyed him and shook his head. "What?" He asked the older man. "The guy was obviously into her. He was practically eyeing her body the entire time. And the excuse of coming over here to thank her for recommending a book! Lame."

"I never thought I'd hear Reid use the word lame before." Morgan muttered to Hotch.

"I thought the guy was nice. I see him come into the station to help out with the toy drives and I hear he helps out at all the shelters around town." Will commented causing Spencer to roll he eyes.

The table grew silent for a few minutes and the girls went off the dance, Will in tow, and Reid was left with three men who knew him the best looking at him.

Spencer took a sip of his water, trying not to let on that he was suddenly uncomfortable with all three men staring at him.

"I think we have a jealous Reid." Rossi finally said, breaking the silence.

Hotch laughed, "I think you're right. Maybe you should just tell her you like her."

Spencer shook his head confused and took another sip of his drink. "I just got out a relationship, which did not end well. How could I suddenly be jealous of her? She just met the guy for a second time."

All three men laughed at Spencer's remarks making him more puzzled at what they were saying.

Morgan cleared his throat, "No, not jealous of her in that way. Jealous of the guy she's with. As soon as she walked in you have been eyeing her, and when Jesse showed up you got mad at her for giving her attention to another guy. Even now your eyes have been following her around." Morgan explained.

"And don't say it's for her safety. She's quite safe surrounded by two fully trained agents and one police officer." Rossi chimed in.

"You like her, just tell her that." Hotch spoke up next, "What you had with Maeve was meaningful and real, but it was also mostly through a phone and there was so many secrets she kept from you. You should be with someone that you don't have to hide from. Someone that can be your best friend when you need it and is always there for you."

Spencer just nodded and turned his gaze towards you, watching as you drunkenly swayed your body to the music.

"Maybe I will, but I also don't know what to feel, and she means too much to me to use to figure out my own feelings." He starred at you as you laughed and danced. He was happy you were having fun, but he always wished his arms were wrapped around you as you both danced the night away.

[mainsumper]

I really love this whole gemini thing. And Pollux is a black unlucky cat, well ya know, guys. x)

[wth-if]

Humans have made their peace with the supernatural a long time ago.. all of them, except the demons.

Ten years ago Archangel Michael swooped down from the Heavens to give humans a new salvation, a solution to their pest problem, a little thing they called H.E.L.L. - Heaven's Eradication of Lethal Lowborns.

Ever since then the demons have been under control. Until recently -unexpected, right?- after a series of kidnappings conducted by a cult calling themselves The Morningstar's Children. Ever since, H.E.L.L. has been cracking down hard on the lowborns.

And well, Lucifer Morningstar (The President of Hell Themself and Michael's sibling) is having none of that.

In retaliation, she sends you, a demon, to infiltrate H.E.L.L., and take it down.. from the inside!

OR, a celestial sibling rivalry goes a bit too far.

FEATURES (May Change!):

Play as a lowborn/demon! Male, female or nonbinary (including cis/trans options); gay, straight or aro/ace; be the vessel for Lucifer’s revenge against her sibling by.. hunting your own kind? What?

In-depth character customization! Hair color & style, skin color, body type, markings, piercings, etc!

Choose how you got chosen for the job! Are you a demonic assassin or are you just an average joe who happened to be walking by?

Romance one out of four unique romance options! Your demonic co-worker, a demon hunter and TWO archangels (that’s right!)

Cause chaos and shenanigans! Get Michael’s coffee wrong, mess up an investigation and let demons escape H.E.L.L.’s grasp! It’s what you’re here for!

Discover the mystery behind the disappearances, and who's really behind The Morningstar's Children!

Help Lucifer Morningstar win her election against her son Satan, or sabotage it!

Levithan (He/Him): Demonic Overlord, Son of Lucifer, Sin of Envy. You'd expect a guy with that description to be pretty full of himself, but instead he seems pretty tired and over-worked. He's been tasked by Lucifer to infiltrate H.E.L.L. alongside you- why? It's anyone's guess at this point. (Possible Tropes: bickering couple, tired x energetic, tol x smol)

Yavhi Gupta (They/Them): Stubborn, rude and cold-hearted. They've been working for H.E.L.L. since they were able to join, and they're one of the toughest, roughest demon hunters around. They don't joke or play around, they go straight for the kill each time. Unlucky for you then, that you've been assigned to train underneath them for the foreseeable future. (Possible Tropes: enemies to lovers, opposites attract, black cat x golden retriever)

Raquel (She/Her): Fierce, witty and loyal to the end. When her best friend left Heaven, she followed right after. Now, she works as a detective alongside him and they've been hired by an outside source to investigate The Morningstar's Children, as H.E.L.L. can't seem to do anything right, and she'll do anything to find out the truth; even if it means teaming up with a lowborn like you. (Possible Tropes: fwbs to lovers, smart x dumbass)

Gabriel (He/Him): Quiet, yet lethal and dangerous. He left Heaven for a reason, but now works alongside his friend as a detective. He's the brawn of the operation, but just as willing to do anything to get the truth... even if you get the feeling he knows more than it seems. (Male MCs only. Possible Tropes: Mutual pining, star-crossed lovers, quiet x loud)

Lucifer Morningstar (She/They): As the Sin of Greed, she's the father (mother?) of all the other deadly sins, and the current President of Hell- though with reelections soon, and her subjects looking in their son's, Satan's, favor, that might change soon. Which is why they sent you on the quest to take down H.E.L.L., so her rep would get a serious boost. She's conniving, scheming and pantsuit wearing, and will stop at nothing to keep her spot on top. (And I love her.)

Michael (They/Them): The most powerful Archangel of them all, it was obvious that one day, they'd become the humans savior, their saving grace.. uh, not really, but they love the praise. Recently however they've been under fire from the human media after a slip-up resulted in the deaths of six people, but they managed to save grace by capturing and promptly executing a few lowborns connected to The Morningstar's Children. (Which, In Raquel's professional opinion, puts them right at the top of her list of suspects.)

Shae (She/Her): A vampire and the one who hired Raquel and Gabriel after the kidnapping of her son Damien at the hands of The Morningstar's Children.

LINKS :

DEMO POST (TBA) R/O INTROS (TBA)

Asks about the R/Os, the characters or the story in general are always welcomed!

[jerseyshoresy]

Something where someone (your pick from shoresy or LK) ask to meet up by text but you say you have a man in your bed, they're confused af but turns out you rescued a cat?

STOOOOPPP IM OBSESSED WITH THIS LMAO!!! Thank you so much for sending this request in, it's so perfect and I had tons of fun writing it! I decided to do little blurbs with everyone I've written for in both the LK and Shoresy universe so I hope you enjoy <3

Fatal AttraC(A)Tion

Fluff

Shoresy, Wayne, Daryl, Coach x gn!reader

Warnings: cussing, suggestive language

Shoresy:

"I know I'm like, always confused, but I am extra confused right now."

Shoresy had just finished hockey practice when he texted you, asking if he could come to your place to hang out for the rest of the night. He certainly wasn't expecting your response of: "Please don't come over !! I have a man in my bed rn!!"

"Oh, that's no good, mah boy! You best get yourself o'er there and send the unlucky bastard scramblin' out tha door!"

"You're right, Hitch, you have a point. I'm not letting another man come between me and my partner and I mean that in both entendres."

"Settle down," said Goody, taking a sip of water.

Shoresy was quick to leave the barn and head to your place, nervous to see who he was going to find lying next to you. As he entered the bedroom door, he pushed up his sleeves, getting ready for a fist fight. To his surprise, there was no human man to be seen anywhere. Instead, he was greeted with you and an unfamiliar orange cat lying on his side of the bed.

"Look baby, Shoresy's home! My favorite two men in this whole world," you cooed, the cat purring as it cuddled up to you. Shoresy relaxed, happy you were just messing around with him, and looking forward to cuddling two very cute creatures all night.

Wayne:

You felt bad joking like this to Wayne, knowing he had been cheated on in the past, but you couldn’t help yourself as you sent the text message: “can’t meet rn. me and my other man are in bed.”

When Wayne received said text message, he sped over to your place in a flash, his stoic expression turning the slightest bit more sour than usual. After he slammed his truck door closed, he rolled up his sleeves, readying himself for a brawl. However, when he entered your bedroom, he just stood there very confused.

“Here’s the man I was talking about.” You held up a black cat with white paws. “I just rescued him! Isn’t he cute?”

Wayne stood in silence for a few moments before speaking. “Okay, y/n. Y/n, okay. That is a very cute cat.”

He took several big strides and abducted the cat from you, cuddling it close to his chest.

“You can have him back after I get an apology for making me worry.” He scratched the cat under its chin, making it purr. “And after I get an apology for not adopting two of these.”

Daryl:

“Does this mean what I think it means?”

Daryl was at MoDean’s trying to decipher the text you had just sent him. It was a picture of you lying in bed with a mass of blonde hair on your chest, captioned “don’t come over, my man and I are having alone time.”

“I knows y/n, we all do, and that doesn’t seem like their types of behaviors,” said Squirrely Dan.

Katy then spoke up, “But it is weird. I think you should go check it out. Let us know if you need backup.”

Daryl agreed and drove his van over to your house in a hurry, confused as ever. He walked into your bedroom, fully expecting to see you with another man, but what he actually saw couldn’t have been further from what he assumed.

“I got us a cat!” you exclaimed, holding up the cream colored cat. “Isn’t he just adorable?”

“You really threw me for a loop with that text,” Daryl said, frowning, but perking up when the cat ran over to his leg and started nuzzling him. “He is really cute though. This is the only other man I’d ever want in my bed.”

“Me too, Daryl, don’t worry,” you said, pulling him in for a kiss.

Coach:

“I’m kinda busy rn, me and my man are lying in bed.”

“What the fuck are they talking about?!”

Coach was ready to crush his phone in anger. What did you mean, your man? HE was your man, your only man! He furiously typed back a response, telling you he’d be over at your place in no time, and he spent the whole trip muttering to himself about how he was going to kick that guy’s ass for laying next to his partner. He practically busted your door down, huffing and puffing as he stared you down. You were completely unbothered by Coach’s abrasive entrance, even laughing about it, as you lounged with a cat running in circles on your bed.

“Coach! Glad to see you made it to meet our newest roommate.”

“Don’t scare me like that, y/n, I was seriously pissed off!” He was pointing an accusatory finger at you until the cat pounced on it, clawing lightly at his skin. Coach immediately broke into a smile, cooing and giving the cat scratches on its ears. It looked like your two favorite men got along swimmingly!