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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 years ago

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True Night: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: smut, canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I am so sorry I haven’t posted. I was sick with the flu and completely forgot about it. I will be posted both episodes now!

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"Superman is, after all, an alien life form. He's simply the acceptable face of invading realities." - Clive Barker

It's nice to take a break from painting and just to relax. Penelope is safe, everything in your life is going just right, and you and Spencer could not be happier. The best thing about living with the person you love the most, romantically, is having the entire place to yourselves. You're not expecting company, so the best thing you two could think of doing is sharing a bath together.

The candlelight is the only thing that is lighting up the room, soft music is playing through the speaker that is hooked up to your phone, there is rose petals inside the bath and on the floor right outside it, bubbles from a soap that smells amazing, and champagne that you had Spencer go pick up when he went on a walk earlier.

It's so romantic that you don't ever want to leave this little bubble that you've created. He's sitting right behind you, and you have your head resting against his chest. He has his glass of champagne in his left hand, and he's running his right hand up and down your arm, causing goosebumps to form in the warm water.

"Tell me something," you say quietly.

"What is it?" he asks and kisses your shoulder.

"Tell me where you see yourself in five years from now."

"Well," he clears his throat and sets his glass down on the edge of the bathtub closest to the wall so it doesn't fall on the ground, "I still see myself working at the BAU. I can't imagine my life without it, at least, not now. I'm sure that could change in a few years. I see myself with you, but not as boyfriend and girlfriend. Maybe as something more."

You smile and bite your lower lip from happiness.

"I like that," you whisper.

"What about you?"

"Well, for starters, I see myself out of this apartment and maybe into a house? We could have more room to do things. We could get a dog or a pet to keep ourselves company, and a pet to keep our pet company for when we leave. We'd have a room for Hannah if she wants to visit us. That house could be the start of our family. Nothing needs to happen now, but I see myself being with you for the rest of my life."

You slowly turn in his arms so you're facing him, not caring that some of the water spilled over the edge. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, slotting you right over his growing erection. You wrap your arms around his neck and play with the baby hairs at the base of his hairline.

"I love you so much," you whisper. "So much so that it makes my heart hurt sometimes."

"That's a lot of love," he jokes.

You grin and lean in, pressing your lips to his. This is such a wholesome and pure moment that there is no need for speed. You like to take it slow every once in a while, and that's exactly what he was thinking as well.

Like it's second nature to you, you lift your hips, and he reaches in between you two to grasp his cock. He pumps it twice before resting it against your needy hole. Without thinking, you sink down onto him one inch at a time. His grip on your waist tightens to prevent himself from going to town on you.

You move your hips back and forth, finding a good rhythm that works well with the sloshing of the water. This is something you'll never get used to. It feels like you were made for him and only him. There's something about him that calls to you--something raw and sensual that you've never had with your previous lovers.

Spencer needs a bit more than what you're giving him, so he plants his feet on the bottom of the tub where the walls meets the ground, and he uses that stability to fuck into you. You gasp into the kiss and pull away only to lay your head on his shoulder. He doesn't go at a fast pace, but he does fuck you harder than he should for inside a bath.

You bite his shoulder and suck his skin, leaving behind an angry red mark.

"Spencer, fuck," you moan into his ear.

"You feel so good," he says with a strained voice. "So tight."

You reach down and slide your hand to your clit which is eager for some attention. You rub yourself in fast, hard circles to help build yourself up to the sweet release you know will be coming. Spencer sees you pleasuring yourself, and he gets a surge of confidence that causes him to flick your hand away so he can do what you were doing.

"Shit!" you gasp and fall forward onto him even more. "Fuck, I'm close."

"Yeah? You want to come for me?"

He must not know how sexy he sounds right now and how turned on you are by him.

"Yeah, please," you whimper.

"Come for me, baby."

You clench as hard as you can around him before releasing all over him, and he shoots his load into you after you release him from your flesh prison. Every time you go there with Spencer, it's always just as good as the first time you've ever done it.

"I love you so much," you say and kiss him.

"I love you more."

"Not possible," you grin against his lips.

The bath water is cold now, which means it's time to get out. You're out of the bath first, and you wrap your fluffy towel around your body while Spencer drains the water. He gets out and dries himself with his towel, and you let your hair down from the clip you placed in there to keep it out of the water.

Your phone makes a noise, interrupting the music. You grab it and check the notification, seeing a message from Hotch.

"We're needed in the office. It's like they can't function without us."

"Apparently," he chuckles.

You two get ready before heading to work, making it in record time. You get there just as Penelope arrives, and instead of heading to the briefing room like Hotch wants, you decide to help her out.

"Here, let me," you grin and open the door to her office.

"I can open my own door."

"Just be lucky I'm not Derek. It's good to be back, huh?"

"What the hell? What happened here?" she gasps.

"It's just a small mess. I can clean it for you. The guy who went through your system--"

"Kevin Lynch," she cuts you off. "He made more than a little bit of a mess."

"Don't worry about it, Penelope. It's okay."

She takes a seat and groans loudly, shifting in her chair.

"He changed everything," she sighs.

"Changed everything? What are you talking about?"

"He adjusted the--the... forget it. It'll be... Go. You need to get to LA."

"Are you sure? I could stick around. They can handle one case without me."

"You and I both know they can't. Honey, I know you love me, but the prospect of you whirling around here trying to fix this is actually more frightening than getting shot."

"Ouch," you giggle.

"I am completely fine. Look. Full range of motion. No pain."

Penelope raises her arms and moves in different ways to show you she is good to go.

"Okay, fine. You call me if you need anything."

"I promise. Are you doing okay? You're... glowing."

"Romantic bath sex will do that to you," you wink at her and leave her office.

This is the kind of case you need to get on right away. A ruthless killer is roaming the streets of Los Angeles, and it's up to your team to stop this person. Hotch didn't give much away in the briefing since he wanted to get to Los Angeles as soon as possible. There have been seven victims over the past two weeks, and LAPD just now decided to call your team in for help.

There isn't a car big enough to hold every single person, so you have to split your team into two. You're with Derek and Spencer while the rest of the team is in the other car. You arrive on site a lot faster than the rest of your team. You get out and look to your right where a limousine passes by you. There is a person sticking their head out to see the crime scene in the alley before you, but it disappears as soon as it comes.

"You should have listened to me," Spencer says for the fifth time since you got in the car.

"It wouldn't have saved that much time, Reid. Let it go," Derek groans.

"The interchange between the 405 and the 101 freeways is consistently rated the worst interchange in the entire world."

"Why do you know that?"

"It's a government report."

"So?"

"So, you work for the government. What, you don't read the reports?"

"On traffic patterns in a city twenty-five hundred miles from where I live?"

"Two thousand nine hundred and ninety-five miles."

"Don't make me smack you in front of all these people," Derek says seriously.

You laugh at this but quickly shut your mouth when Spencer looks at you. You shake your head and clear your throat before walking onto the crime scene and meeting the detective on the case.

"I'm Brady, LAPD."

"Derek Morgan. Dr. Reid. Y/N. The rest of the team's in an SUV behind us."

"Yeah, stuck in traffic," Spencer sasses. You grin and look at Derek who just stares at Spencer. "Uh, so you had two more victims last night?"

"They were discovered a little after 3:30 in the afternoon by a cleaning crew finishing up in the building."

"So, that's seven victims over the past two weeks?"

"Yah, the bodies are in the alley. What's left of them, anyway."

"Is it the same victimology?" Spencer asks.

You three follow the detective into the alley and over to the dismembered bodies.

"We don't have a positive ID on either one of them yet, but the clothing fits. You really think this is only one guy, huh?"

"The level of overkill suggests an unsub in a psychotic break. Multiple unsubs in violent psychotic breaks operating in the exact same location is exceedingly unlikely."

The detective stares at Spencer with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Yeah, it's probably one guy," Derek sums it up for him.

You step off to the side and study the energy left behind by the unsub. Spencer was right, this unsub is having a psychotic break in the form of anxiety. This unsub can't focus well enough to know what's reality. You've only seen this in unsubs that have a mental health disorder or something to that effect.

"What do you see?" Derek asks.

"This unsub has a mental health issue. Something traumatic must have happened to him. I've only seen this kind of energy in unsubs who have suffered."

"Like how?"

"Something traumatic like rape or a victim of a kidnapping. Something that makes the mind block it out because it's too much for the body to take. There's too many body parts here for me to focus on one person's death. Too much chaos for me to make anything out."

The rest of your team arrives in the SUV with Rossi staying on the street to watch the growing crowd while Hotch and Emily head into the alley to meet with Detective Brady.

"Hotch, I'd say it's definitely our guy. It's the same victimology. This guy's getting off-the-charts brutal," Derek states.

"Do you know that a domestic cat loose in a normal neighborhood is the equivalent of a small-scale ecological disaster?" Spencer says, confusing the detective.

"Excuse me?"

"They'll kill anything they can--bugs, rodents, birds, other cats, and small dogs if possible. Anything."

"Does that have something to do with this?"

"An unsub in a violent psychotic break is worse."

"I'll leave you to this. I might have more luck out in the crowd."

You leave your boyfriend's side and head into the crowd, standing at the edge of the police tape. You look around and study everyone that's there. Mothers, Fathers, Families, Friends, Employees, and just about anyone else who passes by this area on the way to wherever they're going. Most of them are of no interest to you, but you spot Rossi talking to a young man, your heart stops.

He can't be any older than twenty-five, he's that young. He has a worried look on his face and a cut leg that's bleeding on his jeans, but that's not the thing you're focusing on. It's his energy. It's the same exact energy that is on this crime scene. No one has the same energy, so that guy must be the unsub.

You look both ways before crossing the street, quickly heading over to Rossi. You have to push your way through the crowd to get to him, and when you do, the young man is gone.

"Who were you just talking to?"

"I don't know. Some guy. He seemed confused. Why?"

"He has the same energy as the one left behind at the crime scene. Rossi, no two people have the same energy."

"How much of a match is it?"

"Identical. 100%. I know for a fact that the guy you were talking to was our unsub." It takes you a moment to read Rossi, and you're shocked he still has doubts about you. "You still have doubts. Haven't I done enough to prove to you I'm not some con artist?"

"Look, the guy is gone. If he pops up again, we won't let him go so easily."

"Yeah, well, someone may be dead next time."

You don't mean to be harsh about it, but you can't help it. You've proven to Rossi time and time again you know what you're doing and that you're the real deal, but he refuses to believe in you. You shake your head and are about to leave when Hotch walks up to you with JJ behind him.

"So, this area is more or less the geographical center of the scenes," Rossi says.

He is going to keep your interactions to himself since he can handle you. He doesn't need Hotch getting on your back for something he can do himself.

"Detective Brady's putting together a task force, so we can canvas these three blocks in both directions."

"Any idea how many residents that covers?"

"Garcia estimates close to three thousand," JJ says.

"A lot of these buildings are single room occupancy. High turnover rate so it's transient. There aren't a lot of records."

"The press conference went well. I think the media understands what we're looking for. Should be on local affiliates now."

"Hopefully we can thin out the suspect list."

Unbeknownst to you, the unsub striked again but in a residential house instead of an alleyway. This unsub has something to prove, and it's like he's going down the line of a list of victims he's made. You got the news about it the next day, so the unsub must have hit them during the night.

"Is it the same kind of victims as yesterday?" Derek asks Detective Brady when you get to the house.

"They're all gangbangers. Good riddance, if you ask me."

"What's the scene like?"

"It's actually the gang leader's personal house. A guy named Glen Hill. His street name is Reaper. Can you guess why? Only Benson, another officer, and I have been inside. I didn't do much. I kind of backed out the minute I saw him."

"How many victims?"

"Six. There are four inside and two outside."

"No survivors at all?"

"Glen is missing from the house, but no survivors. I never thought I could feel sorry for these gangbanging sons of bitches," he scoffs.

"The other victims were in alleys and dark corners. It could be that the unsub was initially just defending himself. Like Bernie Goetz, riding the subways with a gun and waiting for someone to confront him. Except he's seeking them out now because psychotics in a break always devolve," Spencer explains.

"It's only a matter of time before he becomes dangerous to those closer to him."

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dreamdropxoxo · 1 year ago

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Ohhh i just saw the smuty list Haha Can I ask you for the 69) "l'll take care of you" 😈 and maybe (if you want) make Laurent say it to Damen?

Okay.. now Im def going and leaving you alone! Haha 🍓 Take Care! 🍉

Hi dear!

So sorry it took me SO LONG to actually complete this prompt. I hardly wrote these last few months and when I did it felt a bit like a fever dream lmao. But finally I made it.

Thank you so much for this amazing prompt. I absolutely loved writing it and I hope you like the result.

The prompt is from the list here, where you find an overview over all my answers. (Original post of the prompt list here).

69. “I’ll take care of you.” (Lamen) sub Damen

Laurent was aware of the responsibilities that came with being the one in control, the one deciding on his partner’s pleasure. It was easy for him. The planning, the attention to detail but also to his partner, it came to him naturally. The giving and taking his role demanded of him, even easier. He took his pleasure in his partner while giving him exactly what he needed. He gave him comfort and attention after and took this full satisfaction that he couldn’t get otherwise out of it.

A muffled groan made him look away from his book. It wasn’t particularly interesting or demanding, just engaging enough that he still had room for his thoughts to drift. The interruption was a welcome one although he acted like it wasn’t. He fixated the man bound to the bed with his eyes, letting impatience that he didn’t really feel into his tone.

“Now, didn’t we have an agreement, love?” He wasn’t expecting an answer. How could he? The gag in the other man’s mouth made any type of conversation impossible.

“We did, didn’t we? You were supposed to be good and silent for me, weren’t you?”

A loud breath through flared nostrils and Laurent couldn’t keep the smile from his lips.

“I know, love, it’s hard, isn’t it? You’re not one for silence, never were and here I make you wait and wait without being able to complain about it. How cruel of me.” He marked his page and slowly put the book away.

“Considering how much I’m asking of you, I think I might be persuaded to give you an out, love.” He advanced on the bed and loomed over his husband, carefully keeping his tone level.

“You have a choice. Either I keep you gagged and you get to come tonight or I undo the gag and you don’t get to come tonight. What would you like, love? One or two? Show me with your fingers.”

Damen balled his left hand to a fist with only his pointer finger extended and Laurent smiled, pleased. “Good choice, love. I’ll take care of you.”

He petted his husband’s sweaty hair and sat down beside him on the edge of the bed.

“You’ve held out remarkably well. I would have expected you to break much sooner, if I can be honest with you. You can take it for a bit longer, can’t you, love?”

Damen nodded weakly. Spit was leaking from the corners of his mouth and Laurent gently dabbed it away with a tissue.

“Messy,” he tutted, “but you can’t help it, aren’t I right? Leaking all over.”

His fingers brushed over Damen’s cock, light as a feather, it jumped at the contact and Damen tried to gasp in air inconspicuously. It didn’t work and Laurent laughed, fingers dragging over the mess on Damen’s abs. “So desperate for touch. I bet you could come in under a minute if I touched you properly. How useless. I bet you couldn’t even fuck me properly. What use is such a big cock if you explode the moment I let you anywhere close to my ass?” He wrapped his hand around said cock and gave it a hard squeeze.

Damen whimpered. He shook his head almost desperately.

“No? You think you could make me come before you do?”

Frantic nodding.

“Hm. I don’t think I believe you, love.” He dragged his hand up over the hard, hot member. Damen’s back arched off the bed.

“See? So easy. You would come the moment I had myself seated.”

Damen’s moan sounded like he was in physical pain and Laurent hesitated for a second, let his gaze flicker up to Damen’s hand, where he held a silk cord safely cradled in his palm. All good then. Still, he wasn’t that cruel. At least not in right that moment. He still pumped Damen’s cock slow

“You think you could come twice, love? Maybe if you came now you wouldn’t have such a hair trigger the second time around.”

Frantic nodding again. Laurent chuckled.

“Alright, love. Come whenever you want, just make sure you can still fuck me after.”

#captive prince #lamen #laurent x damen #damen x laurent #dom/sub dynamics #established relationship #mature #my writing #smut prompts #smut prompt

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hautevaux · 8 months ago

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@obscureign asked: What if they kissed? [ hehe for yet another lols ] MEME: SEND “What if they kissed?” and I’ll write a scene where our muses kiss, even if they aren’t shipped together. it is it’s own thing and doesn’t have to lead to an official ship. a “what if scenario” CURRENTLY; Accepting.

How breath taking the view was; his pale gaze to drawled slowly across the beautifully lit cityscape before him, the resting of an elbow 'pon a railing allowing for palm to meet chin and rest, pleasantly. Still can he hear the talent of classical musicians coming from a nearby open door, the grandeur of the gala still in full swing just behind him momentarily ignored.

A break away from the business of the ballroom and the volume of both music and joyous, cocksure conversations was a relief all of its own. Plenty has Vaux stroked ego that eve, discussions always turning to pride and success where the tailor sees naught more than boasting over naught. 'Tis as much a part of his job as much as stitching and gilding - to buffer and polish the image of another to please them. It bought countless business and the sheer number of business cards he had handed out that eve was rather extortionate... as had been his donations to charity, in turn.

But he cared little for any of it, as of the moment. Instead, his gaze was split betwixt the glow of the city and the barely there view of stars, bleached away from the artificial light conjured by those below. Even the chill of the breeze that eve seemed to deter him not- the way it picked up stray strands of his near colourless hair and tossed them around a shoulder was almost considered a comfort.

His mind wandered toward future prospects and ideas when the very train of that thought was derailed by the distinctive sound of approaching shoes. Company out on the vast balcony was unexpected, especially given the resplendence of the function still blooming behind him - currently hidden by weighty curtains posed against vast pieces of glass.

Vaux makes the decision to cast his gaze rather idly over a single shoulder, the flash of white and lilac all too noticeable and recognisable against the darkness of the scape around them. A hum sounds, the gentle quipping of a slender brow offered as his only greeting for the length of a moment.

"Well - - if it isn't his presidency, himself." Vaux chooses to slowly straighten himself up, turning his gaze to give one more remark toward the drowned out heavens ere he turns, fully, to regard his newfound company. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having you all to myself, for a moment, hmm-?"

There comes no hesitation in his movement; a brief stand where weight rests more 'pon one hip, arm crossing his midsection to prop the other - where fingers rest beneath his chin; he's observing, the smile on his face naught short of kittenish. He doesn't stay so, however - no he paces towards the male before him with arms outstretched so perfectionist fingers could rightly adjust Rufus' lapels.

"Such a shame you've found me so late--" He uttered, flat palms smoothing material - coy smile accompanying the raising of his gaze. "I've grown so tired of petting exaggerated egos tonight--- The lies are exhausting, I'm sure you agree---"

Just a little closer does the tailor lean, the pull of his smile remaining entirely flirtatious and open, the heel of his boots allowing him a smite more height against the president, himself - - how short he would have been, otherwise. In the least, it offers him enough reach.

"You look as wonderful as ever, though, darling--- That is invigorating enough to convince my to stay for just a few more moments." Fingers, featherlight, reach ever delicately for his tie and gently does he straighten it, wary of the delicacy of the item; "Even if it is just to fix your tie---"

Vaux takes pause, hums quietly to himself and adjusts which leg he rests the majority of his weight on ere he raises unto tip-toes, hesitates ever close - the scent of perfume mixing with that of chosen cologne;

"Perhaps I shall catch you a little earlier, next time-? If you can find a moment for little ol' me---" A briefly feigned disappointed expression crosses his features - but the smile soon returns; "I'd have liked to have stayed a little longer but--- the vivacity puts me off and the sense of self-entitlement is suffocating--- How cruel, that such overwhelming boorishness steals from me some time alone with you."

He pouts, briefly, huffs a breath out of his nostrils and then decides that he needed to leave ere he grew too impatient by the others nearby; a shame, truly. But ere he leaves, Vaux closes the short space between them, lithe fingers brushing the line of a jaw as lips press gently to the corner of lips;

"Until next time-?" And he slinks away, slowly walking until he disappeared back inside and after a moment out of the building in its entirety.

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stardustedknuckles · 2 years ago

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So I woke up to the power out. No storm. No indication of a fried squirrel. I sent a very carefully worded text to my dad who lost his job last month asking if the utilities had gone through, and seemed like they had. With no computer to work on and nothing to shield my ears from the sounds of the cats self administering their morning baths with gusto, I decided to go for a walk.

Now. I'm of the belief that there's nothing wrong with leaving the door unlocked for ten minutes to walk around the block. My father, who believes every stranger is a potential threat, drilled it into me early on in our move here that the front door needs to be locked on every walk, no matter how short (unless it's to the mailbox). He has a doorbell camera, so he knows if I don't. Whatever. I lock the door. I don't have to bring my keys (which was the biggest reason I left the door unlocked) since he got a keypad for the garage door. I can come back in that way and have for about three years.

Well. Those require power.

I pulled the front door shut behind me this morning and immediately cringed. My heat intolerant ass was outside, legs already feeling weak, without a wallet, morning vitamins, water, or food, and no knowledge whether the QT a mile away would take tap to pay on my phone (which I had to set up as soon as I got to the park, and thank the gods my cashapp card has an app function that lets you see its information so I COULD set up tap to pay).

I've busted the door open at my mom's with a credit card a few times and figured I could probably do it our front door, if I only got a card. It was 8 in the morning though, and I wasn't sure who was up.

(On the way to the park I passed a lady getting into her car with a giant dog. On the way back, I saw her front door was open about a foot and two cats were outside. I stopped and called out into the house. No response. I knocked, called again. Nobody home. The cats went inside. I shut her door. I really hope those were her cats.)

My nosy neighbor was out and about to leave, and though it would cost me friendly grilling about my life, my dad's life, and any potential lives that might intersect with ours, I thought she might have a credit card she didn't care about. She at least had a dog, which I got to pet while she explained she doesn't carry any cards she doesn't use and she doesn't give her information to credit card companies because big data is coming for us all.

She's not entirely wrong, but the faded trump/pence bumper sticker on her truck had my visibly queer ass nodding a bit more enthusiastically than I might otherwise.

When I finally extricated myself from her (no, I'm still not interested in essential oils, I have allergies to them, thank you for thinking of me, uh-huh, you too!) I checked the mail. I've been home alone Monday through Friday for weeks since dad got a new job and took the car, and I'm not very good at keeping up with the mail, so I hoped to find one of those fake cards they send you in hopes you'll call and get a real one. No dice. I was proud of myself for that idea and everything.

By then, we were hitting the low seventies and the morning mist was dissipating. The sun wasn't fully out yet, but it was unmistakably warmer, and me in my pants with an antihistamine in me from yesterday (they cause greater heat intolerance). There was a man loading his truck a couple driveways down. Never met him before, but I'd seen him. I approached, gave him my name, and sheepishly relayed the morning to him. Thankfully everyone else's power was out too, so I didn't sound too much like I was asking for him to aid and abet a break-in.

He agreed to help but wanted to be the one to do it - as in, "I'll walk with you" and didn't want my paws on his card. He gave the front door a really good try, but privately I still feel like he gave up before he could get it. Still, I was grateful for him ruining a card trying to help me and we tried the shittier door that led to the inside of the garage. Deadbolted. Goddammit dad.

Fast forward to him showing me a trick on the sliding glass door with a screwdriver - we had built up something of a friendly bond through adversity by then, though I never did get his name - which didn't work but reminded me that even though I'm really careful to lock windows (no cracks for spiders to get in that way) I might have left the kitchen window unlocked from when I opened it for my cat. We both tried using the bricks of the house to hop up and see if the latch was shut before we would try prying off the screen.

The latch was shut, and as I dropped back defeated onto the cracked concrete slab that could and had been very generously described by realtors as a patio, hot and starting to sweat, I put my hands on my hips and squinted up into the yellow porch light. And in a very rare DC 10 perception check, I REALIZED what I was seeing.

I must've made a noise, because neighbor guy looked to me with a little confusion. I pointed. He looked, tipped his head, processed. His whole face cleared. He wasn't the sort to laugh easy - gruff, built like an electric foreman, which is to say like my stepfather - but he shook his head with a little smile and made sure I could get in the garage before pushing up the bill of his cap with a finger and wandering off back to his day with his screwdriver.

My day hasn't even started yet. The email my dad (2.5 hours away) forwarded me before my walk estimated it would be four hours before the power came back. I knew it wouldn't take that many, but I didn't dare hope it would only take two. I told my supervisor then that I would keep her updated and I've still got two hours before that time hits. I spent half of one writing this, and I'm going to take ten more to eat something, and then I'll hop online and get busy.

But man. What a morning.

#I should also uninstall tap to pay/turn off my nfc again #I have a headache #I wrote this from my bed where I am horizontal because stress made me need to be horizontal #I did confirm with nosy neighbor that the one lady did have two cats #And I figure if they were feral they wouldn't have run inside #One had a collar indent #There was an empty bucket of litter outside so it's probably fine but wow that was weird #Mundane adventures

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justaguywhowritesstuff · 2 years ago

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Hold on and Stay Safe ~Carl Grimes x OC~ Pt4

While grappling with the death of his brother in the Woodbury Vs Prison war. Gavin has to learn to live his new life with the people who killed his only living family member. Even once Gavin starts to feel like he was creating a home at the prison things go awry and he's forced to flee on foot while trying to keep a promise he made before it all went to hell. As Gavin wanders the woods and fields alone, he finds his way to a new safe haven, Alexandria. Where he is taken in and cared for, and while those around him try to tell him otherwise Gavin still holds on to hope that his group is still out there. That Carl is still out there.

I do not own any of the characters or plot points that are not my own creations, all credit for those goes to the owners and writers of The Walking Dead.

The story will also have Carl and all others around his age (ie. Enid and Ron) will be aged up slightly so that by the end all "kids" will be 18-19 years old.

Full story on Wattpad

I couldn’t sleep in our cell after that, every time I walked in, all I could see was his body, lying there, his eyes bloodshot and hands cold, so so cold. The day after we discovered that it was a sinus infection that started with the wildlife. Since I shared a room with Patrick I was quarantined, honestly, I was glad for it. I could just lay and sleep for hours and no one would question me. Weirdly, I didn’t seem to get sick, I thought it a bit strange but I wasn’t really in the mindset to wonder about that. After I was let out of quarantine they let me move cells so I had my own. Glenn and Daryl helped me move the minimal stuff I had out. I stayed in my new room as they brought down all of mine and Patrick’s things. I slowly started pulling stuff out of the few boxes they had moved, putting away clothes, putting up the signs we had and the small cracked mirror we used. I stared at my reflection for a minute, it had been a while since I had looked at myself. I looked like a mess, my hair was greasy and unkempt, I had massive bags under my eyes and my eyes seemed almost lifeless, even to me. I quickly put the mirror face down on my dresser and continued putting things away. Eventually, Glenn comes in with the last box and sets it down. “Hey Gavin, how are you holding up?” He asks, walking over and sitting down on my bed. I let out a small sigh and moved to sit next to him on the bed. “I'm not.” Say softly, scared that if I speak about it too loudly the memories of seeing him like that will flood back. Glenn carefully put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. “I’m sorry Gav, I really am.” I feel the warmth of Glenn’s side against mine and tears well up in my eyes. I hadn’t talked to anyone about what I told Patrick before he turned. To be honest I barely talked at all since then. “I told him… that night that he was like a brother to me.” I say just barely above a whisper. “That I wouldn’t have been able to make it through this without him.” My voice breaks on the last word and I feel myself getting choked up. Glenn warps both of his arms around me, enveloping me in his warmth. “Gavin…” I just shake my head as tears slowly fall from my eyes. I’ve done so much crying in the past week that the second tears left my eyes my head started to pound. “He- he was the last sliver of the family I had from before here, and now he’s gone and I’m fully alone,” I say in between sobs gripping Glenn’s shirt tightly. I feel Glenn’s hand reach up and pet the back of my head, letting me get it all out. As I slowly calm down and pull away, wiping away tears and snot, Glenn grabs my shoulders. “Gavin, I know you’ve lost a lot, we all have, but you do have family left.” He says with a comforting smile, wiping away the last of the tears on my cheeks. “You have me, Daryl, Maggie, Rick, Carl, Beth. We are your family, at least that’s how we see you.” I sniffle and smile ever so slightly at his words. “Thank you…” I say softly, taking a deep breath before fully pulling away and shaking my hands out. “Okay, let’s finish unpacking.” I say standing up, brushing off my pants. Glenn smiles and stands as well making his way over to a box of Patrick’s stuff, and unpacking all of his things.

#rick grimes #the walking dead #twd #carl grimes #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #walking dead carl grimes #the walking dead daryl #walking dead fanfiction #hold on and stay safe

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josiebelladonna · 2 years ago

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of all the social networks, i think facebook is the one i have the most dysfunctional relationship with. it’s the one i’ve taken the most breaks from, and the one that i wish i could just delete already, and yet i can’t seem to bring myself to pull the plug. i came really close a couple of times, like really close: i was there at the deletion page, but there was something that stopped me from doing it.

i want to rid of it. i want to wake up tomorrow and see it gone forever and instagram its own independent thing, just like how i want to wake up tomorrow and see tiktok gone forever as well.

what’s stopping me, you ask? my dad is on there. so is alex. and my aunt chris. and teababe. and xana.

i don’t give a single fuck about the rest of it, though. the people i’ve on my friends list are either: complete depressive pathetic trash, right-wing nutjobs who don’t listen, people in their 40s/50s/60s who are your typical run-of-the-mill boomers/gen xers or they have empty nest syndrome, people my age who are already entering their quarter-life/”oh fuck i’m turning 30 soon” crisis (been there, done that, can’t help ya) and i look at them and think “it’s 2023. what are you guys even still doing here?”, ai apologists, or just really, really, really boring people, and what’s weird is i didn’t really start taking notice of these traits until about a couple of years ago when the pandemic first hit. there’s only like a few people visible to me who actually strike me as happy or genuinely content with life. i see a lot of people on there who give off this vibe of missing something from their lives the memes are trash or glurge-y or the most cringe bullshit i’ve ever seen or just the same shit i’ve seen and heard a thousand times before on tumblr... what, 10 years ago? jesus. there are so many people on there i just punk the shit out of because they need to be challenged and offended because they have a terrible attitude (like, kristin: “ugh, pop music sucks” | me: “some of it does, but some of it’s actually kind of decent, i don’t make the rules #kristinisthenewkaren #apologiestoanyonenamedkristinwhoisntlikethatatall” - fun fact, i have never seen that woman laugh. not a giggle, not a teehee, never went “HA!”. she’s very pretentious, too: besides being a massive loser stuck in the past and an absolute fucking piece of shit i, i mean, a ~pro-life feminist~ who’s way too much of that for her own good to the point of believing in the theory of evolution but heaven forbid science proves 100 times over that it’s okay to have an abortion, she’s one of those people you look at and you think, “do you even have any hobbies or pets or books or... a sense of childlike wonder? because when you’re not at work, or bragging, you’re navel-gazing pretty much. at least I have hobbies and a dog and a cat, and i’m always wanting to read stuff, too.” yeah. you need to be punk’d, and by a woman no less). i’ve called that place a toilet before, and i’ll really call it that now. also, the groups suck, and it almost doesn’t matter what the subject of said group is now.

i should’ve left 7 years ago when it all started going downhill with the orange running for el presidente.

but i didn’t, though. because i have people i care about on there. otherwise, yeah, i would’ve deleted in 2016. all i can say is that site just needs to die. we need to let it die on its own. it’s old and stodgy and useless and clinical and censors everything and everyone often for no reason (i know it has with me).

the other thing that kills me about it? it’s the one account i have with my real name on it. i’m mostly faceless on instagram (mostly; i’ve shown my face and my name on there before but i’m known as simply badmotorartist and hannah-bal lecter on there), but it’s the one place i’m most myself on - next to tumblr of course - because i can’t do it anymore on facebook.

it’s this really weird conundrum of having people i care about on there but i feel so restricted and it also brings out the hellraiser in me, and yet i’m more “myself” in places where they’re nowhere to be found and my rebellious streak is put to good use. or in alex’s case, lurking and 99% of the time, i forget he’s there. he’s a very quiet one - you know, typical triple scorpio man, he moves very silently until he’s ready to pounce. but this also happened to me with chris all the time; and i get that with joey and eric, too, i forget they’re looking at me all the time. i think that sets me apart, aside from the art, is that i just don’t even think about it, like, “oh my god, chris cornell is following me” or “oh my god, alex skolnick is watching me”, i don’t think about that sort of thing. it surprises me when it’s brought to my attention, like “holy shit, really?” or when it happens initially, but i don’t ruminate on it, mainly because this is the internet. unless you’re sitting behind a paywall or you jimmy with your settings to where you’re left out of a simple search, you’re out in the open and you can be found. there’s something very comforting about that, too.

#text #not sure what happened at the end there but w/e

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aroacephotographer · 5 months ago

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The Ballad of Tuxedo Cat

Forewarning: This is about an amazing cat that passed away a few hours ago. I'm finding ways to grieve.

I live in a coop house. We call it the Dreamery. It's a pretty cool space. However, there's a few things going on between a couple of us.

But any worries I have been dealing with have all stopped entirely.

Until today, the Dreamery has been host to a little tuxedo cat named (drum roll please) Tuxedo Cat.

And he was the manager of the house. He would get access to everyone's room in order to inspect it to his liking. And you passed if there was a comfy place for him to plop down and take a nap. Could be your bed, could be a rug. But he would especially love it if your room was cool enough.

According to his owner, the Ballad of Tux goes back decades. And that's not hyperbole. He was 21 years old.

At about 4, my roommate found him next a vegan strip club in Portland, Oregon. It was next to the highway and he was clearly abandoned there. Roomie found him and swept him up and took care of him ever since.

Eventually his parent met another human with a dog and they fell in love. I like to imagine it was an interesting time between Tux and the doge. Maybe they had a lot of stimulating conversations on the finer points of dry cat food. It must have worked, because if you leave Tux's food out too long, then the Doge will eat it right up.

Fast forward to this past year, when I started moving in. Tuxedo would shamble in and look around. Naturally he had to claim every single thing in not just my room but everyone else's.

I started calling him Good Sir pretty soon after that. There were other pets in the house, and many a dog has tried to become best friends with him immediately. Tux should've worn a cowboy hat with how fast he would swipe at them. He didn't care. If you snuck up on him, or got too close, then he'd let you know.

Pretty soon I got brave and started picking him up. I always knew he was a cool cat (pun intended), but he instantly became a sweetheart when I picked him up. I learned he liked being cradled like a baby. Tux would gently grab my forearm and bring my hand closer; his way of saying, "Don't step petting me!" And I obliged.

He even had special scratchy spots that got him to swipe either of his hind paws quickly and deftly like helicopter blades. Whenever I scratched one of these spots I had to do so at very odd angles, lest the copter blade strike me and leave a pretty bad scratch. He had no control over these blades. It was pure euphoria for him when I found one of these spots. He would indicate he'd want you to scratch one of those spots when he would look directly at you and pantomime the blade.

A few weeks ago one of Tux's parents knocked on my door and asked if they could borrow my car. Tux had been losing weight and was snotty all of a sudden. He came back with a less than desirable diagnosis. He'd been well loved and taken care of, but that after 21 years it was close to that time.

He became skin and bones. Picking him up would make him irritable. I no longer felt comfortable scratching one of those special spots and try the helicopter blade. He was put into Cat Hospice. All of us have been spending even more time and petting even more.

Tux's parents have been going through a lot this year and decided to take a vacation over the July 4th week. They put Tux and his brother Doge in the hands of myself and other roommates.

Tux put up with a lot during the July 4th fireworks. It was mostly his brother not understanding what was going on. So I spent the entire evening and most of the night with both of them. Tux seemed a bit annoyed but was otherwise unbothered.

But then there was today (the 8th). I fed the boys (or the Dreamery Zoo and I've been affectionately calling it) as I had the past several days. I gave Tux some love and attention, then took the Doge out for the first potty break of the day. Then I went out for breakfast. I came back and said hello to Tux one more time and went to my room to decide on where I was going to go to write for the day. I'm a nomad and need a change sometimes.

I went to Tux's room one more time before heading out and noticed he was missing. I looked around, thinking I should ask my roommate if he'd seen Tuxedo. Their door was closed, so I decided to move on to my writing day. Less than ten minutes later I got a text from that roommate asking if I was home.

Today is quite the sad day for me. I've been writing and talking and now typing out all my feelings this afternoon. I may need to add more stories than this one in order to help me grieve.

#Tuxedo cat #Ballad of Tuxedo Cat #story time #ramblies

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kuromi-hoemie · 7 months ago

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1. i am left handed

2. I've kinda played a lot of instruments and music was a p big part of my life growing up. my favorite to play were drums for 5 years and my second favorite was bass for 3 (❁´◡`❁)

3. i also skated for a decade. like on a skateboard down stairs n roofs n big gaps kinda thing 0: i was pretty good actually lol

i go up to 15 facts but I'll put the rest under the read more :3c

@ghoul-butch @thisismenoww @babyboodle @mellueminate @tranzjen @mothgirlyuri @limedotsoda

4. i used to get free public transportation thru my old job, but when covid first hit and i didn't have access to a car i made myself an ebike 🚴🏾‍♀️ it felt p cool whizzing around town at 30 something mph on my lil grocery run

5. i have happened to come across many witches and mediums in life so far and i feel like we always find each other at the right time (❁´◡`❁) the world is so interesting and mysterious! (do not ask me about this, this is my extremely long rant topic depending on who's asking lmaoo. related to something of a lifelong passion/fascination of mine)

6. i mention it in passing but i grew up with hauntings being a very regular thing across different houses and have experienced plenty in adulthood, but not as much as me n my fam all under the same roof. ghost stuff is complicated to rant about but this is basically tied to #5

╰(￣ω￣ｏ) this childhood is sort of the basis of my framework of understanding (as opposed to a Religion)

7. i used to pierce ppl when i was 18. i was good at it and had a lot of happy clients, but i was not certified. i also didn't like this shop i was wanting to apprentice for for trying to make me do a tattoo apprenticeship too (this was also actually what killed art for me and made me stop drawing entirely for 10 years).

🚶🏾‍♀️what i ended up doing is since the shops take 50% what u get paid anyways why don't i just charge half the price. i was snatching up so many of the younger customers in my age group bc of word of mouth, affordability, and my professionalism 🙂‍↕️ i took it very seriously and even a decade later it makes me happy to think there are ppl out there still happy with what i was able to do for them, the same way i feel so great w how i look thanks to the piercer I've been coming back to myself.

8. i grew up in a small city/big town by the beach (❁´◡`❁) i remember it fondly

9. i was caught up in a love triangle w twins once and it was as messy as you probably would imagine lmaoo

10. learned how to drive a forklift before i learned how to drive a car and was so good at it i had ppl w decades of experience watch me try to fit something on a rack and they'd be like “there's no way you're gonna make that fit” well guess fucking WHAT buddy!!! 💅🏾 every time, i loved having a lil audience

11. i lived next to this old lady who grew and sold hella weed and i also got one of my favorite pets from her. she gave me a little albino rat 🥺 the weed was funny bc we were a few blocks away from the police station actually pre-legalization 😹 she was cool as hell. she'd splice peyote w some other kind of cactus and in doing so u could harvest it in just 2 years i think? and it's supposed to take much longer otherwise, i never got to try it but that sounds cool

12. on that note I've tried salvia before which was rly funny and stupid but also so wild ajdjska. if u feel like u will still be fully present and aware no you will not lmfao i got yoinked into another reality in the middle of some prison break plot lmao 😭

13. i used to throw knives when i was younger and i got back into throwing knives again recently, and also am giving the spikes a try this time (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) very fun

14. i do 3D modeling and electrical engineering as a hobby sometimes but i ONLY am ever compelled to do it when it's for taking care of plants. my dream would be to have a huge lab complex with different zones for different climates for growing different kinds of plants separated by their general purpose (ie spices, medicinal herbs, fruits n veggies etc). but a bunch of others too just bc they're neat. i rly wanna play around w hydroponics and think being able to fully automate plant care and learning how to care for all of them sounds rly nice (❁´◡`❁) i could settle for a greenhouse too ♡⁠ apartment indoor gardening it is though huh (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

15. i have never had a straight era. when i was little i knew of LGB and straight ppl but didn't ever see myself as belonging to one or thought about it. i watched the music video for Im Not Okay and Frank kissing Gerard immediately made me realize and instantly accept that i was bisexual. being bisexual has always been pretty matter of fact to me and as a kid i didn't hide it but didn't rly feel the need to talk about it either unless u asked lol. but like. i was never questioning, i wasn't even ever straight and i think that's really funny. i didn't get to intentionally explore myself as a queer person until my early 20s but i have always been surrounded by queer ppl and that's rly nice 👼🏾

if you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog <3 (absolutely no pressure)

I didnt have my first friend in the same grade that stayed my friend until 4th grade

My Choir teacher was in a hallmark movie

My favorite class is band

@hold-my-dr-pepper @somewhatcompetent @beechaotic @angel-and-the-serpent @babyqueenfangirl @definitelynotriana @smokee-bee (Sorry smokee!)

#sry for going to 15 i felt like 3 was way too easy 😶‍🌫️ these r also v general fun facts. 👩🏾‍💻 i got different kinds of facts depending #on who's asking. i am a girl of many experiences and interests

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Text

Seven Drinks

Bucky x f!reader

Summary: There's a reason Y/N has never had more than 3 drinks around the other avengers, and they're about to find out.

Warnings: depression, thoughts of suicide, panic attacks, angst (don't worry there's fluff too)

Word Count: 4322

a/n: This is inspired by that episode of Brooklyn 99 with 6 drink Amy (I adopted that concept!) and also Halsey's album Manic. :) I hope you like it. Anything in bold is a lyric from one of the songs on the album!

Please let me know if I messed up the trigger warning tags! I've never written anything like this before, so I just want to make sure I do it right.

Masterlist

"We're having a party tonight." Tony's announcement was met with the usual groans of annoyance at having to schmooze with the typical socialites that attended Tony's party. "You know, you are so ungrateful sometimes. here I am trying to throw you a party, and you're complaining!"

"Tony, we all appreciate the effort you go to, but- at least speaking for me- I don't like people." Y/N's response was effortless, swiftly calming Tony and explaining the reactions.

"That is why-" Tony stuttered when he actually registered the words you said. "That doesn't sound like you at all. And besides, this is a party for just us. It'll be more like team building, but without any pre-planned activities. No "smarmy, rich people" to deal with." He directed his last sentence at Bucky, Steve, and Sam.

The team actually seemed excited at the prospect, albeit skeptical of Tony's motivations.

Unsurprisingly, Nat worked up the courage to question him on it first, "what's the catch?"

"No catch. Just friends, food, and lots of alcohol." His grin quickly shifted into a smirk as the entire room turned to look at you.

You groaned slightly, not wanting all the attention. "Look, there is a reason I cap myself at 3 drinks." Holding up one finger, you started to explain, "One drink Y/N is barely any different from my sober self."

Wanda quickly cut you off, "not true! You get louder." She smirked, happy to have added that tidbit of information.

"Fine." With a laugh, you admitted she was right. "I might get the tiniest bit louder." You held up a second finger to continue your explanation, but were once again cut off.

"It's not a bad thing. It's just your happy, bubbly, and slightly louder than normal personality shining through!" Nat added, seeing an opportunity to tease you for being so positive all the time.

"Thanks Nat. Anyway," emphasizing the rudeness of being interrupted twice, you continued, "two drink Y/N is more touchy feely than normal. Not in a creepy way though!"

"I love two drink Y/N. She gives the best hugs!" Thor eagerly added to the conversation, glad to have dropped by when he did.

"Thanks Thor." With a small smile in his direction, you held up a third finger. "Three drink Y/N is the perfect amount of just past tipsy to have fun without doing anything extremely embarrassing. It makes the most sense to stop there." You finished her little speech with your typical smile and a resolute nod of your head.

"Seriously, you need to relax. Just let loose this one time!" Sam tried to encourage you. With the eyes of nearly every avenger set on you, your resolve didn't last very long.

"Fine! Maybe I'll have a fourth drink." You were met with cheers as you rose from your spot on the couch, trying to prepare for the night that was to come.

As soon as you stepped off the elevator, you had a drink in your hand. Clearly your friends were going to make sure you got a fourth drink. even Steve seemed excited when he saw you, although his golden boy personality didn't disappear completely.

"You sure about this? I don't want you to feel pressured!" Bucky nodded, weirdly enthusiastically, before adding, "Yeah doll, don't drink more than you want to."

"You two are too sweet. Sam's right, but don't tell him I said that." You winked at the two super soldiers, emphasizing the joke. "I should let myself relax sometimes. I'm in a safe place, with friends who won't let anything happen to me. What could a few more drinks really do?" You couldn't help but smile at how true that was. You were surrounded by people who care about you.

"Oh, so now it's a few more drinks? What are we talking here, six drink Y/N? Seven?" Bucky teased.

"You'll have to wait and see, Ducky." You teased right back, knowing how flustered he got at the pet name. Steve laughed at his friend as you walked away, ready for your second drink.

Before long, you had your fourth drink in your hand. It was slightly odd how literally everyone was staring at you, but your were three drink Y/N at the time, so you were drunk enough not to care.

You downed the fourth drink, unprepared for the consequences.

"So, Y/N... how do you feel?" Clint braved the waters, everyone eagerly awaiting your reaction.

"That is so nice of you to ask! I feel great! I don't think I've ever been this happy." You jumped up and down, hugging Clint with a huge smile on your face.

"How did you get even happier?" Tony chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

"Do you not like it?" Like a switch had been flipped, you were nearly crying.

"What?! No!" Tony was so taken aback at the tears pooling in your eyes, he froze, unsure how to fix it. He looked around the room for help, but everyone else was just as shocked as him.

"I'll fix it!" You were at the bar, fixing another drink before anyone fully comprehended your mood swing.

You walked back up to the group, sipping from your fifth drink as if nothing happened. "What?" You questioned the odd looks, but before receiving an answer you squealed, again jumping up and down. "Let's dance!" You turned around, ready to move to the more open area before looking back over your shoulder, "Wanda! Nat! Pepper! Come on!"

The women shared a look, ultimately shrugging before joining you on the makeshift dance floor.

"Bucky, you've been staring at her for 20 straight minutes. When are you finally gonna talk to her?" Steve couldn't help but pester him about his feelings.

"I can't help it. I've never seen her dance so much. I mean, I know she's always happy, but this is a whole new level." He didn't take his eyes off of you, even when he was responding. "I can't tell her tonight, though. This is the most she's had to drink in years."

He watched as you moved back over to the bar, needing another drink after dancing so much.

"Here we go, six drink Y/N." Bucky gestured to the bar. Steve shook his head, but allowed the change of topic.

About five minutes after your sixth drink, you were somehow bounding around with even more energy. You were nearly running around the room, trying to talk to everyone at once.

"Ducky! Have I ever told you I took gymnastics lessons for 7 years when I was younger?" You were bouncing with pent up energy, excited to be sharing more information about yourself.

"No, you've actually never mentioned that." He smiled, enraptured by your childlike enthusiasm, so enraptured that he didn't notice the mischief in your eyes.

"Well, I did! Watch this." You handed a confused Bucky your now empty glass, turning and throwing your arms up. Bucky realized two late what was happening, and with both yours and his glasses in his hands, he couldn't physically stop you.

"Y/N, wait!" His shout had everyone turn and look as you flawlessly executed two cartwheels in a row.

Bucky would swear your smile got even bigger as you turned around to look at him again.

"Normally I can do more, but" you hiccuped, then lowered your voice to a really terrible whisper, "I'm a little drunk." You leaned into him, laughing as if you just told a joke.

Wanda walked up to you with a seventh drink, hoping seven drink Y/N had a little less energy, but happy to see you having so much fun. "Here ya go! One more of your favorites, just like you asked."

"Thank youuuuuu!" You shifted to hug Wanda, leaving Bucky to miss your added warmth.

You sipped your seventh drink slower than the rest, quickly running out of energy. Sliding the empty glass across the bar, you slipped out of the party unnoticed, making your way to the kitchen for some pickles- your favorite drunk food.

Your seventh drink hit you just after you opened the pickles. Gone was the happy, bubbly persona you showed the world. The mask slipped away, leaving you alone to contemplate your life choices.

You made your way to to the lounge just outside of the kitchen, choosing to lay on the floor behind the couch and stare out of the large floor to ceiling windows.

"Where's Y/N?" Bucky glanced around the room, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"Huh? Oh, she said she wanted a snack." A very drunk Wanda turned to look at where the food was set up, scrunching her face in confusion when she couldn't find you. "Weird. Maybe she went to the bathroom?"

Bucky, having noticed your absence 8 minutes ago, didn't think you left for a bathroom break. "Maybe." Plus, you always took the girls to the bathroom with you. His eyes flitted about the room, taking one more glance before deciding to go look for you.

He decided to head for the kitchen since Wanda said you wanted a snack. He laughed at the open jar of pickles, knowing you at least passed through this room. He put the pickles away before popping his head into the lounge area.

"Y/N?" He called out, figuring this was the most likely location for you to end up.

You hummed in response, not moving from your spot on the floor. Bucky walked further into the room, slightly confused as to why he could hear you but not see you. That is, until he realized you were laying on the floor behind the couch.

"Why are you on the floor?" He smiled when he found you.

"I'm just looking at the sky." Your voice held a melancholy air as it floated through the room. Bucky's smile faltered, not used to hearing you sad. In the three years he's known you, he's only ever seen you sad because of a movie or tv show. Otherwise, you were quite literally always happy.

"Why-" he faltered, unsure how to check on you. "Is everything okay?" he nearly choked the words out, feeling slightly stressed at your sudden gloominess.

"Yeah." You took a deep breath, slowly letting it out in a deep sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... I don't know." You sigh again, still looking at the sky.

Bucky chances another question, wanting to get you talking since you're acting so off. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel... so sorry." You words were so soft that Bucky could barely hear them.

"Sorry?" He tried to hide his confusion, matching your soft tone as he sat down a few feet away from you. "About what doll?"

"Just... because I feel so sad." Tears pooled in your eyes, but you didn't stop staring at the sky.

"What are you sad about?" It's taking everything in him for Bucky not to hold you right now. He doesn't want to make you even more upset, especially because he's never seen you like this.

"No one around me knows who I am..." He watched as a tear rolled down your cheek, shining in the light from the moon.

Bucky moves closer, just close enough for him to reach out and hold your hand. You squeeze it, instant relief flooding through him that he hasn't crossed any boundaries.

He goes to speak, but you cut him off. "I'm not breaking. I won't take it. And I won't ever feel this way again." Your voice is harder, as if your angry with yourself.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay to have feelings. You're allowed to feel like this. Don't push it away. Talk to me. Why don't you think anyone knows who you are? We're all here for you, Y/N." He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, trying to convey how serious he is.

You let out a dry laugh, wiping the the tears from your cheek. "My self preservation..." Bucky can tell there's more to, choosing to wait for you to continue. "All of my reservations..." You sigh again, sitting up, you scoot closer until you can lean your forehead against his shoulder. "I bottle it up. I'm my own biggest enemy." You let out another dry laugh, shaking your head without moving it from its resting place on Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky wraps his arm around you and leans his cheek against your head. "Take your time. You can talk to me." He whispered, trying to keep you talking without getting mad at yourself again.

"Well, I'd like to tell you that my sky is not blue, it's violent rain." The sounds of your sniffles break his heart. "I just pretend everything's fine because that's what I had to do when I was younger." Rather then interrupting, Bucky continues to rub small circles on your hand and your back, encouraging you to continue when you're ready. "Can I tell you a story? I... I think it'll help explain some of it."

"Of course. Anything you need, doll." He curses himself for the pet name, not wanting you to think he's joking. He just can't help it when it comes to you.

"Thank you, ducky." You chuckle, but your words are just as sincere as his. "You know I have two sisters, and I love them with all my heart, but sometimes growing up with them was hard. My older sister, she put so much pressure on herself to succeed. And, she did. She was so good at everything she did, that I felt like I had to be just as perfect.

With my younger sister, it was like it was effortless. She put just as much, if not more pressure on herself. but, she could do anything she tried to, with almost no learning curve. I always felt this crazy amount of pressure to be just as good.

My parents, they didn't really help with that. I mean, they were so supportive and I'm so grateful to them, but it was a lot of pressure. The summer between my junior and senior year of college, I wanted to get an internship. Ya know, to get some experience. It would set me up better for getting a job after graduation.

I spent months looking and applying, but nothing was working out. So, I went home for the summer. My mom would come home everyday and ask me if I got a job yet.

I spent nearly every waking hour looking for a job, even just a part time one for the summer. So one day, when we sat down for dinner and she asked if I got a job yet..."

Bucky could feel how tense you were telling this story, but he knew you needed to get it out.

"I told her, 'no, not yet' and she just seemed so disappointed. She asked if I was even applying and I snapped.

I yelled at her, something that had never really happened before. I told her I was trying. I was doing everything I could. She yelled at me for yelling and said it wasn't unreasonable to ask for updates.

I yelled right back. I kept saying I spend all day everyday trying and just when I finally get a break, she walks in and brings it all up again. I was stressed enough without her constant reminders.

I ended up running away from the table, in tears. I hid in the bathroom, there... there was a pair of scissors on the counter and I really thought about killing myself that day."

The tears are pouring out of you at this point. Bucky threw caution to the wind. He picked you up, maneuvering you to sit across his lap and lean your head on his chest. He kept rubbing circles into your back, murmuring words of encouragement.

"My younger sister tried to check on me, but I wouldn't open the door. My mom stomped down the hallway to her bedroom. I was full on having a panic attack in the hallway bathroom. I think I stayed in there for an hour before I went back to the dinner table.

My dad was in the kitchen. He put my plate in the microwave to heat up dinner for me. I ate through near constant tears, it only got worse every time he tried to ask me what happened. Why I snapped like that.

I wanted to apologize to my mom for yelling, so after I ate I went to her room. I knocked, and when she told me to come in I opened the door. I just remember her looking so angry.

I apologized. I told her I was sorry for yelling. She said something about not being unreasonable again. I cried again. When she asked what was wrong, I told her I was scared.

I couldn't put it into words though, so when she asked me 'of what?' I just shrugged. Then, she asked me if I was on my period.

God. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell at her again, To make her understand 'I only wanna die some days. But if I decide to break, who will fill the empty space?' I decided that day that I would never try to tell anyone how I actually felt."

Bucky holds you as you cry. You're not sure how long it's been when you can finally breathe enough to talk again.

"I just, so many people have bigger problems then me. I grew up in a loving household. I went to college and made friends. I got a job after I graduated. So why am I so sad sometimes? I just wanna scream but what’s the use? At night, I lay awake and I stare at the door, I just can’t take it no more."

Bucky continues comforting you when he speaks again. "Just because other people have problems, doesn't mean yours are irrelevant. You are 100% allowed to feel however you feel, even if it seems like there's no reason for it. Have you ever thought about talking to someone about all of this? I know you just said you haven't told anyone how you actually feel for years, but I think it could help." He smiled nervously when you raised your head to look at him.

"I have actually. I joked about it a lot with my roommate right out of college. I always used to say 'everybody needs therapy' as a joke. Of course, I meant it. Most people probably do need therapy." You laughed, moving your arms around Bucky's neck to hug him. "Thank you for listening to me. I like talking to you."

Of course, Bucky noticed your smile didn't reach your eyes. He was confident in his words when he spoke again. "You can always talk to me. I'll always be there to listen." He followed that with a less confident "What's been bothering you today?"

"Oh, nothing that serious. It's just all pent up inside, ya know?" You smiled again, hiding your face so he couldn't see your lies.

Of course, he could still hear it in your voice. "Y/N, you can tell me. I want to be here for you."

"I... It's just, my insecurities are hurting me." You laughed at yourself. "Here we go with the fucking riddles, again. On the plus side, I think I've cried so much I'm back to one drink Y/N."

"Well, it has been 3 hours since I left to come find you." You were grateful for Bucky's joke, needing something to lift the mood a bit. "But, don't try and change the subject. I still want to know what's got you all sad." His words were light, but you knew how serious he was.

You took a deep breath, burying your head in his neck. "How could somebody ever love me?" You spoke into his shirt, not moving your head back even an inch.

"You know I can't understand you when you talk into my neck like that." Bucky tried joking, but even he knew it would do little to calm your fears.

You moved back, lips still grazing his skin when you repeated yourself, "how could somebody ever love me?"

Bucky wanted to scream. He wanted to tell you how much he loves you. He would gladly spend every day of his life loving you, but he didn't think this was the right time. Not when you just poured your heart out to him. So he settled for the almost truth.

"Anyone would be lucky to love you. You are selfless. You put everyone else first, no matter what. You always make sure everyone has a reason to smile, even when things aren't going right. You tell the best jokes. You're great at cuddling." He squeezes you closer to him, emphasizing the point. "You are beautiful, inside and out. Everyone who comes into contact with you automatically has a better day. You are incredibly strong and independent. I've never met anyone so incredibly good. Even Steve. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."

His words brought more tears to your eyes, pooling in the corners. "Then how come everyone that I’ve dated says they hate it cause they don’t know what to do with me? I feel broken."

"They were all idiots. You're not broken. Not even a little bit. You're learning how to express your feelings. You just need someone who would take it slow." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, struggling not to tell you everything.

"I wonder if you’d take it slow." Your eyes go wide when that slips out. You hadn't meant to make things uncomfortable. One look at Bucky's face has you freaking out. He looks stunned. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out! Oh god, you've been there for me all night and I go and fuck it up by admitting I'm in love with you."

Your eyes grow even larger. You would move out of his lap, but his arms are still holding you in place. "Shit! Maybe I'm still drunk because apparently I have no filter." You say the last part more to yourself, but he can still hear you.

"Y/N?" Your name comes out of his mouth in a soft whisper.

"Yes?" You cringe internally at messing everything up.

"I would take it slow." He smiles, leaning his forehead against yours while he waits for you to absorb his words.

"Yeah?" You whisper back, a smile ghosting your lips.

"Yeah." You both lean in, exchanging soft, slow kisses and sleepy smiles.

The two of you ended up falling asleep leaning against the back of the couch. The sun streaming through the windows, combined with the noise of the other avengers in the kitchen, wakes you up.

You nudge Bucky, grinning when he pulls you closer.

"C'mon. Let's get some breakfast." He groans again, but eventually stands up.

The two of you walk into the nearly full kitchen, surprising everyone by coming from the lounge rather than the elevators. They share amused expressions, unaware of the emotional hurdles you jumped last night.

You head right for Sam, hugging him tightly before moving on to hug everyone else.

"I just wanted to thank you all. For encouraging me to live a little last night, but also for being there for me." Tears spring to your eyes again, shocking everyone but Bucky. "You're all like a family to me and I'm so glad I have you all to lean on." You made your way back to Bucky, leaning into his side while he poured both of you some cereal.

You smile when you look at him, kissing his cheek before sliding into the stool next to his.

As if broken out of a day dream, Sam sputters out a question. "What the hell did seven drink Y/N do last night?" Thrown off both by your behaviour with Bucky and the short emotional speech.

"Oh, seven drink Y/N is an emotional little bitch. I think I cried eight years of suppressed tears." You laughed, grinning at Bucky when he squeezed your hand. "Also, I think I need a therapist." Your casual admission has Tony spitting out his breakfast.

"What the hell happened last night after you disappeared from the party?" He guffaws, trying to put the pieces together.

"Also, why aren't you even a little bit hungover?" Nat chimed in, upset at missing out on seeing you anything but cheery.

"Well, to answer Nat first, I don't get hungover. Never have, even the one time I blackout out." You shrugged at everyone's slightly jealous expressions. "To answer Tony, I had an emotional breakthrough. Bucky helped me talk through it, something I never thought I'd be able to do. Long story short, i'm going to learn how to share my feelings instead of suppressing them all."

"Suppressing them? What are you talking about? I've literally never felt anything but happiness from you before?" Wanda questioned the new development.

"Well, that's because I'm really good at hiding how I feel. I'd rather not go through it all again, so just watch the security footage from the lounge last night, yeah? I want you all to know, even if it took seven drink Y/N to share it." You quickly finished eating, pulling Bucky to the doorway.

"While you do that, we're going out. Bye!" Before they could question anything else, you ran to the elevator, dragging a very willing Bucky behind you.

"We're going out?" He questioned when the elevator doors shut.

"Yep. Get dressed, I want to see all your favorite places in New York. Even if they're different now. Take me to all your favorite spots." You both smiled, sharing another soft kiss before parting to change for the day.

"Hey," Bucky called, causing you to turn over your shoulder, "I love you."

"I love you too."

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #tw: suicide #tw: depression #tw: panic attack

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florencwrites · 4 years ago

Text

ignoring is bliss 〚technoblade〛

in which [reader] struggles with her lover's inconsequent affection, and a good talk is unfortunately inevitable; the silent treatment has never worked well with techno.

"I don't know what you want me to say." His back had still been turned towards me at this point, the rake heavy in my hands as I tried using it to steady myself in the muddy stable. He kept loading dirty plucks of hay onto his pitchfork, the thinly lined buttoned shirt he was wearing easily letting his back muscles shine through.

I stood silently behind him, deliberating my words thoroughly. I hated when he acted like this, I absolutely despised him. He was one of the smartest men I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, however, the second things went sideways conversation-wise he always played it painfully personally. He would start correcting my grammar or suggest synonyms for otherwise satisfactory sentences. "I don't either."

"I guess that marks the end of this conversation." He turned around to dump his gathered muck in the makeshift wheelbarrow Phil had built us. His face was hard, his brows furrowed and his features lax. He seemed indifferent, his attitude scaring me to pieces.

"Tech, please." I tried, putting one of my hands up to gesture for him to stop walking. He was now barely lifting the barrow from the ground, ready to head off to the dump. He huffed, his eyes meeting the floor as he put the wagon down. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

"I'm sorry," I muttered softly.

He ducked to grip his hands around the handles again, lifting it from the ground. His knuckles were white where they held onto the leather-covered grips. "Speak up."

"I want to have a conversation with you, okay? Stop acting so fucking stuck up and talk to me." His shoulder brushed past mine as he exited the stables, my voice was high in emotions, definitely on the verge of breaking with desperation.

He snorted. "I'll listen to whatever you have to say when you've calmed down."

"He won't talk to me, Phil." I groaned almost obnoxiously loud, taking a sip of water to wash down both my dinner and my agitation. "You know how he gets."

"All pissy? Tell me about it." He chuckled softly, his forearm shielding his bowl from my sight. He shoveled another spoonful of beef stew into his mouth. Phil and I had never been extraordinarily close, he reckoned Techno and me to be undeserving of each other. A terrible pair. And perhaps we were, at times like this I couldn't help but doubt whether or not we truly were the destined lovers we often thought ourselves to be. "I'll bring him some food later."

I laughed at him, a father at heart. A father to anyone but his actual sons, really. A playful grin on my lips, "You're an enabler, Phil."

That night I crawled into an empty bed. One I hadn't even doubted would be just that; empty. He was weak like that, he'd do anything to avoid conflict. Whether that was because he was afraid of what his blinding rage fits would conjure, or whether he was just an impotent coward. Someone who didn't know how to act around uncertainty and immorality and thus resorted to blaming everything on his treacherous temper.

The sheets still smelled of him, I held them to my nose.

There was no reason for us to fight, I hadn't meant to start one. I simply wanted him to realize how different he acted towards me when surrounded by any crowd. He acted so distant it made me doubt not only us, but myself. My heart ached anytime he pulled his hand away from where I tried leaving him a subtle touch. My skin crawled when he no longer referred to me by the mild, but unmissably warm names he had for me.

However, nothing would ever hurt me as much as meeting his eyes in a room of our friends and seeing the love seep from his irises. Physically witnessing his affection turn into nothing short of mere acquaintance.

Everyone knew us. There was no reason for him to act so cold, so distant. Though, I also recognized that perhaps there was an underlying reason. One I simply hadn't thought of, or perhaps one that I couldn't ever imagine. One that he had retained from his troublesome past.

The thing is, it hurt me to think he didn't trust me enough with his reasoning. That he didn't want to tell me about his thoughts. I'd been extremely careful and meticulous with any information he'd granted me, I was sure to never let what he told me change my opinion of him. I vowed to never look at him any different.

So, why could he not promise me the same?

There was no point in pushing myself from my sheets the next morning. I knew how long his episodes usually lasted, I wouldn't even have to try talking to him for at least two more days. Normally, I'd try, though. I'd sit in the grass right next to where he was working outside, just talking to him about anything and everything I could think of. Back then I thought for his silence to mean confusion, I thought his swirling mind simply needed a break. That a distraction would do him good.

I sat in the barely-molten grass for hours, never getting a reply.

His smell was constricting my airways slowly, every inhale making it harder and harder to breathe. What if Phil was right, what if he truly didn't love me, or not anymore at least? What if it was all an act to have a warm body to fall asleep next to, to have an extra set of hands around the cottage.

I kicked at the sheets, desperate to get them away from me, to get them from clinging to my sweaty body. I only tangled my legs further into the mess. The bed creaked loudly against the wooden floor of the attic, a gust of wind running through a small gap in the roof.

I shot up, finally being able to rid my body of the sheets. I huffed a few times, the annoyance getting the better of me. I slung my legs over the side of the bed, now just sitting on the wooden frame, letting my eyes wander over the walls. The pictures of us that were tightly tacked to the planks, photos of our favorite pets and our best of friends. Photos of us with Phil and Tommy, and even a stray photo of me and Wilbur, back when we were kids.

My gaze found its way towards the singular window behind our bed, the only one of two walls that weren't entirely slanted. His red robe stood out like a sore thumb in the feeble blanket of slushy snow that had been slowly accumulating over the course of the night. Summer was officially over once again, and the cold would soon make it so we could no longer afford to sleep alone.

He rarely wore his robe outside of special occasions, he usually would simply opt for one of his brown ones. One was trimmed with a thick deer fur, the leather on it sure to keep all frost out. The other one was his summer one, the more dirty one of the two. It was always stained with blood, since it would also be the one he went hunting with. He disliked hunting in the winter, the harsh winds and easily discernible prints made it no fun, according to him. He stacked up during the summer, drying his meats to allow them to be kept safe for months, if not years.

But now he was wearing his red robe, lined with the finest of polar bear fur. The one that had the special compartments for his potions, and the one I had sown a totem into. For good luck. He rarely wore it for any occasion but war.

He pushed himself from the ground, turning around swiftly; the velocity making his cape whisk dramatically up in the wind. His eyes seemed fixated on the ground until they unwarrantedly shot up to the window I was sitting at. Any other day, I would've averted my gaze. Not now. He knew I was staring, and he was allowed to know so. I held my eyes on him until his feet carried him out of sight, into the house. I sighed softly, I felt entirely forlorn without him, without his caring hands and loving eyes. I let myself fall back into the bed, cuddling the sheets once again as I curled away from the entrance. I reckoned he would have to change out of his robe soon, and I didn't want to face him when he did.

I heard the front door slam, and as predicted the rungs of the many ladders soon creaked in his hold. The worn, practically ancient, trapdoor was pushed ajar behind me. I couldn't be bothered to turn to meet his eyes. However, instead of quietly changing out of his clothes, I felt the bed dip. He sat on the side of it, much alike to how I had found myself just minutes before.

"I don't like feeling weak." His voice was rougher than usual, it kept its usual monotone aura, but for some reason, it felt more emotional than ever before. He cleared his throat as if to try and mask it, to no avail, "I don't love you any less."

I shifted in the bed, though, he quickly stopped me, "Don't look at me, that just makes it harder."

I obliged. He let out a trembling sigh, taking his sweet time to deliberate his next words, "Sometimes we are outside together and I'm afraid that when they see how much I care about you, they will realize that you make me weak." I stared at the wall, still curled into the blankets. I wanted nothing more than to hold his face, look at him as he spoke. Instead, I had to make do with the pictures of his face plastered on the wood. His pointy, flappy ears and peaked nose. The two sharp-looking fangs set in the corners of his lips, ones that seemed to disappear when he smiled. He didn't like smiling for pictures, I didn't have a single one of the two of us together where he smiled. The only ones that showed his beautiful pearly whites were the ones that had me behind the camera, something I only then realized might've not been a coincidence.

"It scares me to think they could hurt you for loving me, that's why I don't like holding your hand in town." I shot a quick look over my shoulder, his back was slouched over, his head in his hands with his elbows propped on his knees. He wasn't crying, he simply seemed lost."I never realized that what scares me even more is the idea of you not loving me at all."

I slowly crept from under the sheets as his words fell silent. I crawled over towards where he was sat, near the foot-end of the bed. I took one of his hands from where he had rested his face on it and pulled it out of the way.

I snaked my arms around his neck, pulling my body into his. I draped my legs over his lap as I held him. His built arms felt tender against my exposed back, however, he held me tight. He squeezed softly as another quivering breath escaped his lips. We sat in embrace for a while.

"That's all I asked for, Tech." I smiled into his neck. "I just wanted to talk, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"Shut up." He playfully tried pushing me away from his torso, underestimating the power of my cling. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

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words-etched-in-her-skin · 3 years ago

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Alright… challenge time :p (Not seriously You can slay anything)

Rigger Sadist Cassandra having fun with her rope bunny pet in a dungeon/ Play room setting.

Can be smutty, humorous or fluffy.

Combined with: Smut with Cassandra and a masochist maiden? A maiden who risks their life to get punished by a certain ravenous daughter?*Slight daddy kink added for a follower on Ao3*

***

Sorry it took me so long to get some you guys some content for our beloved Cass 🥺 But I hope you all like it 😏 I know I had a lot of fun writing it 🤤

***

Chilled brick against slightly bruised skin. A dull ache to your knees as you shifted from one leg to the other. You could only wonder how long she had had you there. The dense darkness of the castle dungeons - the infinite night - allowing no such time to make its way known. The faint sound of water dripping onto aged mortar as a fierce rain blew around the castle walls. Even in the blackened air between you, Cassandra’s eyes still beamed through like a beacon - a warning - a promise of everything that was coming to you.

“I swear, morsel.. You get prettier with each passing minute that you spend on those knees of yours.”

The immaculate smirk that curled across her lips would have immediately made you drip, if you weren’t already doing so. The black rope that she had meticulously wrapped around your soft flesh firm against you as she began to circle like the prey that you were. You had known all too well that out of all of the sisters, Cassandra was the most sadistic - a trait that had scared most of the servants in the castle - but for some reason, it only seemed to excite you more.

“A-ah.. thank you, miss.”

A desperate needy tone coated your words in the most delicious of ways. How badly you longed for her to touch you - for her to claim you. You had seen the marks she had left on others, spreading a deep heat every time your eyes had laid upon them - and when the stunning brunette told you to meet her in the dungeons after your daily work was finished, it was all you could do not to sprint your way down those steps as fast as you could.

“I can smell how badly you want this, morsel.”

She chuckled before you could even respond, kneeling down to look you in the eyes. A most sadistic smile painted across her perfect lips, and you couldn’t help but whimper as she grabbed you firmly by your chin and forced you to your feet. Pulling roughly on your restraints before slowly leading you back against the castle wall. The sound of metal against brick cutting through the air as she tied the ropes that bound you to the chain that adorned it - sufficiently pinning your hands to the cooled brick above you. An exquisite pain radiating throughout your body as she pulled on the restraints even harder, forcing you to cry out for her.

“Heh.. moaning for me already?”

“Mmph… yes, miss.. ah-!”

She chuckled again before allowing her tongue to trace over the small bite she had just gifted you, using the length of her frame to lean you further back against the wall.

“I’ve seen the way you look at my handy work, morsel. How that desperate blush spreads across those cheeks as your eyes fall from one mark to another.”

“Y-yes, miss.”

“One would think that you liked the prospect of me claiming you. That you long to feel my teeth deep within that soft flesh of yours.”

You whimpered again as she wrapped her long fingers into your hair, tugging on it firmly - exposing the length of your neck to her. Every cell in your body set a blaze as the indulgent pain spread swiftly over you. You swallowed hard before answering.

“O-one would think that, miss… because I do…”

“Oh, I know.”

A single glance of a warning before her teeth were on you again. A deeper bite to crook of your neck, just short of breaking the skin. A sharp inhale dancing across your slightly parted lips as she bit you again, this time just a little lower. Oh, how you pulled against your restraints - longing to wrap your fingers in her hair - to pull her closer to you. Her cooled breath against your skin as she chuckled again - the sweet heat as her teeth sank in a little deeper, earning brilliant drops of crimson to seep across your flushed skin. The slightest of growls reverberating deep within her throat as she licked over them - tasting you.

“If you’d like a safeword, now would be the time to choose it. There’s no guarantee I’ll be able to control myself otherwise.”

“Ah-! No… no… just fucking devour me. Please.”

At the utter and desperate tone to your pleads - the absolute primality that radiated throughout the small space of the dungeons as a deep and unyielding growl forced itself from Cassandra’s body. The sheer force of her slamming you back against the wall as her teeth sank deeply into your flushed skin - harder - rougher. Sharp nails finding the soft flesh of your thighs as you felt the warmth of her tongue skate over the deep teeth marks that began to deliciously decorate your body. Moaning slightly as you felt her drink from you.

“M-more… please.”

She growled again, eyes sharp as she pulled herself from your eager body.

“It would do you well to be careful what you wish for when I am in such a state, morsel.”

You said it again without a second thought. “More”

You could feel the cool air of the dungeons begin to spin around you as her teeth found you again. Each mark more delicious than the last as she utterly claimed you. A deep heat spilling over you as she pulled on your restraints yet again, tightening the rope that had bound your body even more. The multitude of sensations almost overwhelming - all encompassing - the only break from the relentless heat that threatened to overtake you being the cool air dancing off of the trickles of crimson that began to drip their way down your overly flushed skin.

“Mmh.. I can smell how wet you are.”

She purred the words into your skin before biting it harder than she had all night, forcing an immediate yelp from your lips.

“Mmph.. Cassandra… please.”

As soon as her name left your lips, you knew you had fucked up. The strength of her hand coming swiftly around your neck, firmly squeezing it.

“Careful, there. Wouldn’t want to ruin the good time we’re having with such slip ups.”

The embers in her eyes almost black, on the verge of absolute darkness as she looked you over. The thick metallic scent of your blood on her lips as she squeezed a little harder - causing sparks behind your eyes before swiftly letting go.

“Ah.. y-yes, miss.. sorry…”

"There are very few things I tolerate being called down here, maiden.”

The sharp undertones to her voice - the change in petname - swiftly reminding you of exactly who you were dealing with - filling your body with a deep, unyielding heat. You had heard a few of those things screamed out into the castle walls on some of your loneliest nights - with nothing more than the warmth of your hands to keep you company, you couldn’t help but imagine what Cassandra could possibly be doing to induce such delicious sounds. Sometimes they were screamed in pleasure.. others in pain. But there was always one that made you wetter than the rest when you heard it.

“Daddy.” You half whimpered - breathy, and desperate - eyes half lidded as they locked onto hers.

The sound that forced itself past Cassandra’s lips was guttural - primal - a growl so thunderous that it rivaled the storm that waged around the castle walls. So deep that you felt it in your knees - in your core - in your inner and utter being. The length of her body firmly against you as she forced you back against the wall once again. Eyes of absolute darkness as she breathed over you - taking in your scent. A single sweep of her tongue before her teeth were relentlessly back on you. Hot, and uncompromising - causing a fevershing heat to spill rapidly across your body. The sharpness of her teeth swiftly finding any unmarked flesh that you had left to offer.

You gasped as her fingers traced over your thighs, nails digging in. The warmth of her mouth exploring over the rest of you as she fully, and wholly claimed you as her own. Sending the castle walls around you spinning as her fingers ghosted over your core. Forcing a desperately needy whimper to escape from your lips. You knew you were dripping for her - and you knew she could smell your sweet musk every time she made you squirm.

“Such a tasty morsel you turned out to be.” She murmured the unexpected praise against your flushed skin, earning a swift blush to spill across your body. “How badly you must want me to touch you.”

“You... you are touching me, miss.”

You closed your eyes in preparation for the consequences that would normally follow such a quip, only to feel Cassandra’s breath cool against you as she chuckled - forcing you to open your eyes. Golden spheres rising slowly through darkness when her eyes found yours. An utterly devious smirk to her lips as her fingers came firm around your chin.

“Heh… very tasty, indeed.”

You swallowed hard, not daring to say another word as her eyes watched you carefully. A]look to her face that made you wonder if she were trying to decide whether she wanted to eat you or… kiss you. You were, obviously, hoping for the latter.

Her sweet scent rolling over you as she leaned in a little closer - tightening the grip on your chin while her tongue swept deliciously over the width of her mouth, cleaning the last bit of crimson from her soft skin.

“Well, morsel… looks like you’ve chosen the ‘no release’ option with your meal.”

She chuckled at her own joke - a glimpse of a smirk across her lips before the sharp exquisite sting of her teeth found you again. A deep moan as she slid the length of two fingers deep into you - fast and merciless inside you. And oh, how she kept true to her word. Edging you relentlessly long into the midnight hours - until your exquisitely desperate juices had sufficiently soaked the chilled mortar below you.

#depravity answered #resident evil village #resident evil #re8 village #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil fanfic #re8 fanfiction #cassandra dimitrescu fanfiction #fuck #i got way too thrisf writing this

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pastaimpact · 4 years ago

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Since ur a catboy and maid simp 👀👀👀👀

Catboy maid headcanons for xiao, scaramouche, zhongli, kaeya and diluc?

Like, they lost a bet and have to drink a potion from albedo that turns them into catboy maid or smth pls?

-mac bulli anon

if u see me rotting, no u didnt

Xiao’s displeased by the transformation, but he has better things to do than to get worked up by a small thorn in his side. He has evil spirits to get rid off, and archons be damned if he’s going to let a pair of furry ears and a tail get in the way of his duty. It’s an odd sight, seeing him swing around his jade spear with his mask on, only to be moe-fied by his ears.

He insists on carrying out his own duties, saying that your selfish desires to have him as your maid won’t overrule his original contract to Rex Lapis. Chances are, you won’t even get him into the maid outfit before he goes running off to dispel some spirits. It can’t be helped: Xiao is someone who values Liyue’s peace before he values anything else, although he does feel a bit fuzzy inside when he sees how ecstatic you are over how cute he looks.

If he does find a moment of reprieve, that’s your best chance to capitalize on his transformation. Xiao claims that he needs no attention or extra love from you, that he’s a yaksha who works alone out of fear of harming you, but he’s still someone who craves for the gentle touch of a fellow being. Tell him that he’s done a good job and that you’re proud of him while cupping his face, and next thing you know, he’ll have slotted himself against your body and tell you that this isn’t necessary, all while his tail wags around happily. Archons forbid that anyone tries to interrupt your cuddling session, because he’ll start hissing like an actual cat the moment your attention is turned away from him.

Xiao purred against your skin, his head resting on the area in between your shoulder and neck. He was always cat-like to begin with: coy, distance, but still gentle and affectionate at the right times. You fondled his ears the way he liked them, and his tail curled up in satisfaction.

“What a pretty kittycat you are,” you cooed, your voice low and calm, like the careful trills of a lullaby. “Always working so hard... Always caring for someone other than yourself... What a good boy.”

“...Keep going,” he murmured, scooting closer to you when you stopped petting him for a second. You let a smile grace your lips as you stroked his soft fur again, enjoying the way the catboy immediately relaxed against you.

How adorable.

Scaramouche is livid, to say the least, by this change. He’s a Fatui Harbinger, and someone who demands nothing short of utmost respect and authority from those around him. Being demoted to not only a servant, but not even a human one at that, is a stain against his spotless, untouchable command.

The entire time he’s placed under your care, he grumbles and snaps at everything that comes his way. He mutters that you should be grateful he’s even putting up with this, and he might just flat-out refuse to do the things you ask of him—until you tell him that you’ll ask someone else, like Signora or Childe. Only then does he come scrambling back to you with a pout on his face and his ears pressed against his head to scold you and say that he could do a better job than any of those sloppy Harbingers could.

He also threatens you, saying that you owe him for humiliating him like this, but he also forgets all about being mean to you the moment you start petting his ears and scratching behind them. Scaramouche swears on his life that he hates being treated like this, but the way he clings to you and purrs loudly clearly says otherwise. He’ll get huffy and frown if you stop petting him, so be prepared for him to completely monopolize your time.

“I hate you for this,” he hissed, practically bristling in your lap. You bit back a laugh, feeling the way he wrapped his arms tightly around your torso, pulling himself as close as he could to your chest. “You’re terrible.”

“It’s ‘You’re terrible, Master’ to you,” you teased, burying your fingers in his hair to tease his ears. The Harbinger opened his mouth as if to snap back at you with a haughty remark, but he immediately melted into your touch instead, giving soft mewls and twisting his head against your skin so that he could feel more of your touch.

“I-I still hate you,” he grumbled, forcing himself to frown at you and huff. He dug his nails into your clothes, settling his chin on your shoulder so that you couldn’t see the blush rising to his cheeks. “Master.”

Zhongli has seen his fair share of oddities, being an archon and all, so he’s grown to get used to whatever life throws at him all while honoring his own approach to life and any traditions he upholds. While being transformed into a cat and a maid, for that matter, is surprising, it’s probably nothing more than a mild inconvenience to a god that once held the ability to shift into a variety of different forms.

He’s a skilled and knowledgeable man, so he’s more than willing to assist you in a variety of topics. His one condition while being placed under your care is that you treat him with the same respect you would show him at any other time. While he may be relatively polite and mild-mannered, he still was a very potent and feared God of War at one point in his life. He doesn’t expect much from you; just drop any funny business around him, and he’ll entertain you for hours with his knowledge about politics, arts, and other fine subjects.

Zhongli is good about keeping his emotions in check, and even with cat ears and a tail, it’s still fairly difficult to gauge how he truly feels. Of course, his new body does betray him every now and then: a flick of his tail to signify intrigue, ears pressed against his head for annoyance, a twitch of his nose for interest. It’s best not to tease him or pry into how he feels whenever he does make an odd movement, but it wouldn’t hurt to present yourself appropriately depending on whatever mood he’s in based off of his little actions. Besides, it’s not everyday that you can see someone as respected and feared as Zhongli in a cute maid dress with his tail swishing excitedly behind him.

His entrance was quiet, and the only thing that even signaled his presence in the room was the rustle of fabric as he walked towards you. His tail was still, and his ears perked up like it had been for the day, ever since he downed the transformation potion. “I brought you tea.”

You looked up from your paperwork, smiling softly at the former archon. You pulled a stray chair close to where you were seated, inviting him to sit down as he set the teacup down in front of you. “You shouldn’t have!”

He shook his head, his ears twitching with the slightest hint of satisfaction as he sat down. “It was about time you took a break. I thought I would remind you not to push yourself too far by bringing you something to relax with. Do drink up; I brewed it myself with prized leaves.”

Kaeya’s all about staying a step ahead of the game, and the moment fluffy cat ears and a tail sprout up on his body, there’s a good chance that he’s already found loads of ways to capitalize on his features to get what he wants. The best way to get information from anyone is to get them to let their guard down, and it’s hard to be intimidated by someone who looks like a stuffed animal.

Which is exactly what he does. There’s a good chance that Kaeya’s been observing you for a while, for whatever reasons he might have (be it personal or for the Knights of Favonius), so he’ll definitely use his cat features to his advantage. He’ll snuggle up to you and let you relax by teasing you with his tail and his ears, and he’ll let his silvery tongue do the rest as he extracts bits and pieces of information from you like he was extracting honey from a beehive.

Kaeya rocks the whole maid concept better than anyone else. Flexibility and adaptability are just a few of his many strong suits, and he might even go along with playing pretend with you just out of the goodwill of his heart. He’s extorted you already for loads of intel, so the least he can do to get you to keep staying so lax around him is to humor you just a bit. It’s also a good chance to see you smiling and laughing as you bury your head into his hair, and it sure doesn’t hurt to hear you gush over how much of a majestic catboy he is.

You felt his fluffy tail slink against your arms, Kaeya splayed out across your lap with the most smug smile you’ve ever seen from him. “Awwww, your tail is so cute! I wish I could just hold it and fall asleep! It feels just like a cloud!”

“Does it now, Master?” Kaeya purred, batting his eyeslashes. It had only been about fifteen minutes since he barged into your room to show off his cat features, and he had already gotten enough info about you to entertain him for weeks. “You can pet me more, if you’d like.”

You lit up, completely oblivious to the fact that Kaeya had you wrapped around his little finger. You were far too innocent, too careless even, and Kaeya found it amusing. “Oh, Kaeya! You’re the best!”

Diluc’s also fairly annoyed by this mess, but he isn’t one to viciously fight against what’s already happened. It is rather irritating to have to put all of his responsibilities aside for another day, but he’s capable businessman who’s used to having to adapt to all sorts of situations. Being turned into the catmaid is by far not the worst of his problems, but it’s enough of a change to actually make him think about how he presents himself not only to you but the people of Mondstadt as well.

He has maids around his winery, so he mimics his ow behavior with what he wants of them. Of course, you don’t make him cook or clean or anything like that, and similarly to Zhongli, he makes sure to treat you with respect as long as you do the same. Diluc’s a very pragmatic man, and he simply takes his duty as a maid to keep you out of trouble, accompanying you whenever you need to head out to protect you from stray monsters or helping you with any finances that you might have to sort out.

His only request is that he doesn’t let anyone outside of his immediate circle know about his current affliction. The last thing he needs is his reputation as a respectable tycoon tarnished, and he sure as hell doesn’t need Kaeya strolling around to mess with him. If it incentivizes you to keep the whole temporary catmaid thing under wraps, he’ll tell you that it can be a little secret between the two of you. It’s best that you give him your word, lest you end up on the wrong side of his stoic mannerisms.

“Good work today,” you remarked, offering up a meek smile to the Dawn Winery owner. “It must have been a lot of work. You know, having to deal with the whole transformation thing while running a business.”

Diluc glanced momentarily you, his ears pressing against his head. You wasn’t sure if it was out of annoyance or shyness, but you decided that it was the latter, as Diluc hadn’t walked away from you just yet. “It’s fine. Albedo said it should wear off any day now.”

“Mmm. But still, if you ever need help from me, let me know, okay? I know I’m your ‘master’ temporarily, but we’re still friends,” You laughed. The corners of Diluc’s mouth twitched as he turned away.

“Goodnight then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #xiao #scaramouche #zhongli #kaeya #diluc #g/n reader #serving the macaroni

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago

Text

Through My Eyes

Draco X Hufflepuff!Scamander!Reader

Request: @cat-moon: draco malfoy x scamander reader

A/n: Okay y’all time to get serious for a moment. Newt Scamander is on the ASD spectrum, and it is hereditary, and therefore so is his granddaughter. But it is not just because it is hereditary that I am creating her this way, but also because life on the ASD spectrum is quite remarkable and it really is a different world experienced, being there myself. Autistic women show the signs in much different ways than males do because of a thing called masking and social behavior that is expected of women in society. I wrote a paper on it after getting my own diagnosis so, I know a bit from research and experience. Our reader is still as lovely as ever and nothing written is done from malicious intent nor ignorance. I am alright with writing her this way because I have the authority to, otherwise I wouldn’t dare to. I love you all so much and i’d love to know your thoughts!

“You’re not supposed to be here,” My voice was soft.

“I can be wherever I bloody well please,” Draco muttered slinging his bag down onto the chair.

“No,” I pressed. “You’re supposed to be in study hall. Only Ms. Pince and I are in here during this hour. You’re not supposed to be here,”

“Don’t get so bent out,” He scoffed. “I thought you Hufflepuffs were supposed to be friendly.”

“You don’t know anything about the world around you,” I murmured, closing my book, and tucking it into my bag. I held my tongue before snapping at him to not return tomorrow.

I stormed out of the library, thrumming my fingers on the strap of my bag, humming a comforting melody. It calmed my senses so that I could plan my next move. One option was going to my dorm, but I’d get there only having to turn back to go to class again. I could go to class early and continue to work, but I didn’t want to be asked questions about why I was early. There was only twenty minutes until my next class. Then it occurred to me, I wouldn’t be in a classroom for my next class, instead outside with Hagrid. A smile touched my lips as I stopped in the hall and changed my direction heading to the outdoors and toward Hagrid’s Hut.

Letting my fingers run through the soft grass that rose to about my waist, I strolled through the grounds, going the long way to Hagrid’s, humming all the while.

“Well, you’re ‘ere early,” Hagrid grinned. I nodded in response, my eyes flitting to the page that he had opened in our old textbook as he continued to speak. “Well, just so ‘appens that we takin’ a page from your granfather’s book ‘ere.”

“Hippogriff,” I read from the page. “Do you really have one here!?”

“She’s ou’ back, ‘ome on. Meet Buckbeak,” Hagrid led me outside the hut and sure enough there was the fantastic beast, preening her feathers. “Now you just gotta... well yeah,”

He stopped trying to instruct me as I bowed to the creature, waiting for her to bow in return. When she did, with slow and precise movements, I made me way toward her, stretching out my hand, not breaking eye contact. The hippogriff followed the fluttering of my fingers as I drew near until she was entranced enough that she allowed me to stroke her muzzle.

“She ‘eally likes you,” Hagrid exclaimed. “You sure are your granfather’s kid,” I paid him no mind as I caressed the beast’s head as she nuzzled into my hand.

I backed away, Buckbeak chittering annoyed as I parted from her. I signaled for her to be quiet and she lowered her head and complied. The class slowly arrived, and Luna took her place by my side, saying a soft hello but not much else. I liked Luna. She was like me. A bit different but she knew about the world around us. It was a comfort to not be alone.

It was the next few days that I was called into Professor Sprouts office. When she saw the panic on my face, she smiled and assured me that I was not in trouble and apologized for ruining my schedule. I took a seat at a chair in front of her desk.

I jumped when the door opened behind us.

“What’s she doing here?” I heard his voice.

“Professor!” I interjected.

“Enough,” Snape and Sprout said on cue. Sprout continued. “Miss Y/n, you are the best student that we have in Care for Mythical Creatures,”

“And My. Malfoy, you seem to be failing the subject,” Snape finished.

“The bloody chicken attacked me!” Draco argued back, standing abruptly.

“Hippogriff,” I corrected. “And her name is Buckbeak,”

“I really don’t give—”

“Mr. Malfoy!” Sprout scolded. “You should care because without the aid of Miss Y/n, you are going to fail the class, so I suggest you be nicer to her,”

“You want me to...” I glanced at her before looking down at my lap and tapping my fingers in an absentminded repetitive pattern.

“If you two are quite finished,” Snape sighed. “Miss Y/n, you have full authority on teaching Mr. Malfoy, and you are to assess his knowledge,”

“You mean she—no!” Draco shouted again.

“It is final. From Dumbledore himself,” Sprout glared Draco down, with such an affect that Draco took a seat, silently sulking.

We were dismissed and I paused in the doorway. Draco noticed and looked to me, expectant.

“Meet me at sunset outside Hagrid’s hut,” My eyes fixed on the Slytherin logo of his robe. “

Whatever,” He scoffed, taking off.

Oh, good lord, what was I just thrown into?

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

“This is ridiculous, I hope you know that” Draco hissed into my ear as I led him down to the outskirts of the forest, there Buckbeak waited for us.

I paid him no mind as I went to Buckbeak, bowing before her. She bowed and chittered happily to see me again, only pausing to puff her feathers at Draco in defense.

“He’s a friend,” I cooed softly, running my fingers over her silky feathers, close to burying my face in her heavenly soft feathers. “You know that don’t you?”

She chirped at me sulking. I beckoned Draco forward with my free hand.

“Bow,” I instructed. They both obliged. “See, was that so bad?” I smiled, keeping my eyes on Buckbeak but outstretching my hand to Draco.

When I felt the warmth of his hand in mine, I slowly pulled him forward, using my fingers to flutter his, to keep Buckbeak interested. My fingers brushed against her smooth beak and I pressed Draco’s hand against her beak, placing my hand over his. I could hear his anxious breathing as he drew near.

“She’s not going to hurt you,” I looked to him and smiled. “Again, anyway,”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” His voice shook with fear.

“Yes?” I let out a soft laugh. “She’s not dangerous, if you know how to approach her,”

He was a lot closer in proximity than I had originally thought. Buckbeak sensed my agitation and shook out her feathers. I cage her a kind look and she backed down. My hand slid down her neck, smoothing her ruffled feathers.

“You or Buckbeak?” I heard him mutter.

“Would you like to go for a ride Mr. Malfoy?” I looked over to him his silver eyes shining in the twilight.

“Are... are you sure that’s safe?” He gaped at me. Buckbeak shifted from foot to foot.

“Draco, she’s going to sense that you’re unsteady, if you want her to be calm you need to remain calm and trust her,” I instructed. “She’s not a dumb creature, she’s keenly smart with a range of sensitive emotions,”

“She’s a...” Draco started to insult but stopped with a chirp from Buckbeak. “Okay, sure. Intelligent creature,”

Buckbeak chittered a laugh, causing Draco to jump about a foot back, toward me.

“She’s just laughing at you Draco,” I soothed, finding his hand, and placing it back in Buckbeak’s shoulder, again pressing my hand over his.

“She’s laughing?” He dismayed. “That’s brilliant. I’m being laughed at by a beast,”

“Would you rather be laughed at by a girl?” I challenged, smiling. “Now come on, try to see the world you live in and let’s have a ride, then you can officially pass Care of Mythical Creatures,”

“And you’re sure there’s not some Niffler that I can—”

“Come on Draco,” Buckbeak bowed allowing me to climb up, holding my hand out to him. “Don’t you want to see what Potter saw?”

Something sparked in his eyes and he took my hand with fierce determination, settling behind me on Buckbeak’s back, his arms around my waist. Buckbeak chirped once more then stretched out her wings and took off.

Draco clung to me as we began to soar higher in the sky, and all I could do was laugh, feeling the rush of wind against my face and the feeling of freedom in my heart. There was nothing that could stop me when I was up here, in the clouds, just as the sun sank behind the hills with its final goodbye.

“This... this is incredible,” Draco breathed out, relaxing enough to declaw from me.

“There’s a lot of incredible things out there if you’re willing to let someone show you,” I noted, leaning back into him.

“About a world I don’t see?” He mused.

“Exactly,” Smiling I looked to the rising moon. “Your nose is so stuck in social behavior and hierarchies that you miss everything going on around you,”

“I can’t see them when I’m up here,” His candor was soft and intentional. “She truly is an amazing creature,”

“You should see a thunderbird,” I whispered, petting Buckbeak’s feathers gently. “My grandad took me to America once to see one. He was beautiful and the size of the astronomy tower. Flying over the desert... stretches of wilderness, and the never-ending horizon... the sunset colors...”

We were silent for a while as Buckbeak drifted back toward solid ground on the outskirts of the black lake. Draco hopped off and offered me his hand, aiding me in dismounting.

“You’ve been to America?” He asked thoughtfully as we walked along the castle grounds.

“I’ve been all over,” I smiled at the cobblestone under our feet. “I’m particularly fond of Greece, they have the best stories and creatures. Though they do have Sirens, so best be careful by the shores of Sicily.”

“You really like Mythical Creatures, don’t you?” The softness of his tone startled me.

“Yes,” my answer was gentle. “My grandfather knows so much... he’s been all over traveling, caring for them... learning. I just want to make him proud,”

“You got me on a Hippogriff. He should be plenty proud of you,” Draco nudged my shoulder as we walked.

“Thank you,” My cheeks flushed. “Also, consider yourself passing Care for Mythical Creatures,”

“Really? That’s it?” His shock caused my brow to furrow.

“Was that not enough? You only seemed opposed to Buckbeak and after tonight I don’t see an issue. Was I wrong somewhere else?”

“Uh, no. I just... tonight was nice. Seeing the world through your eyes... and I thought maybe...” Draco stumbled over his words.

“Maybe?” I prompted, butterflies fluttering in my chest, hopeful.

“I... never mind,” he sighed.

We stood at the top of the stairs, ready to part separate ways.

“Draco,” I called, and he turned to me a spark of something in his eyes. “...good night,”

He nodded and headed down the stairs as I ascended them wondering what went wrong between us.

The next few days weren’t out of the ordinary. I informed Sprout that Draco was just fine with caring for mythical creatures and all went back to normal. The old normal. But somehow that one night had caused a paradigm shift in me. I wanted the new normal. That had Draco in it.

Choosing the next best thing, I snuck out and made my way down to Hagrid’s to see Buckbeak when I heard a soft voice already coming from the back of the hut.

“I’m being stupid,” He muttered to Buckbeak. “This is stupid. I’m stupid,”

“Well, you are talking to a hippogriff,” I chimed in and Draco jumped about a foot back. Buckbeak bayed in agitation but after bowing to her she settled.

“What in the blazes are you doing here?” Draco hissed.

“Isn’t that my question for you?” I asked, stroking Buckbeak’s chin. “You’re normally a rule follower Mr. Malfoy,”

“Yeah well,” He toed the dirt and buried his fingers back in Buckbeak’s silvery feathers along we shoulder. “I missed her,”

Buckbeak nuzzles her head into my shoulder causing me to laugh.

“She missed you too,” I met his eyes, and though it only added onto the handful that I ever had, the silver in his blue eyes paralleled with the moonlight refracting off of Buckbeak’s feathers. My eyes quickly dropped as I worried my lip.

“Look, Y/n, you’re... and last night was...” Draco fumbled for his words.

“It’s okay,” My eyes didn’t waver from Buckbeak. “I know what you’re gonna say,” A small smile played at my lips.

“I don’t think you do,” Draco interrupted.

“I do know,” I refuted. “And I know I’m different. I know what others say about me. Even a few rumors from you. And it’s okay. It was one night.” Buckbeak thrummed a soft comfort as I stroked her muzzle. “I know I’m odd and I know I don’t belong,”

“Like I belong any more than you do,” Draco sighed. “The world you say you don’t belong in... the one that I’m trapped in. I don’t want to belong there. With their rules and expectations... I... I like it out here. I like it with you.”

I paused in my stroking of Buckbeak’s muzzle and peered at him.

“You see them? The rules? And you follow them?” I was deeply confused.

“Those rules keep me treading water. I would drown without them,” He sounded defeated

“It’s so... trivial.” I mused.

“And stupid,” a smile played at his lips before it fell.

“Maybe I misjudged you, Draco,” His eyes flashed to mine and I offered a smile. “Apparently, I know your mask very well... but if you want... I’d love to know who’s behind it,”

A smile dawned on his face. Like I had just given him the best news. The light in his eyes was undeniable happiness.

“You’re incredible,” He chuckled out, resting his hand over mine on Buckbeak.

And as it so happened, Buckbeak jostled, using her wing to shove Draco in my direction with such force that we both toppled to the ground. Neither of us were annoyed. Rather we laughed as I found myself pinned beneath Draco, staring at his grey eyes. My gaze quickly adverted.

“Hey,” He called softly, propping up on his elbows, still pinning me to the ground. “Look at me,”

“Draco,” I complained.

“Just look at me,” I heard the smile in his voice. I complied, meeting joy and comfort in those gossamer eyes. “Would you be mine?”

“Yes,”

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