#wish this photo blind was closer to my house :(

[eternal-love]

IT’S TOO LATE

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female!reader

Summary: Austin was your childhood sweetheart, years later, things weren’t just the same. And now your relationship was lead by guilt.

Warning: Angst. Mentions of religion. Mentions of death.

Note: I’m back with my fucking angst🤭 Too much love lately. Have to go back to my roots. You know the drill. The small and pink part are memories.

You and Austin were teenage sweethearts, you grew up together. Basically. Even your grandmothers were friends, that’s how you two met. As small children, drinking cold lemonade on the hot days of Anaheim while playing on the green backyard, swinging on swing sets and jungle gyms.

Then as you two grew older, you grew closer too. And suddenly you were dating. Then you got married and then started your own family. But things hadn’t been easy. At least not with your careers. You two had been lucky enough to have your big break in Hollywood.

But, being a celebrity wasn’t easy and your marriage was crumbling down. This wasn’t a problem you could point at Austin or viceversa. This was a two-way street. You were both at fault. Never being together, never interacting, you two had stopped having sex, hugging each other, laughing with one another. You two were always very physical so you were in serious problems.

To try and make it work between you, the two of you planned a trip back to Anaheim. To try and rekindle your relationship that seemed to be dead by now. But at least he accepted.

You were with him inside the car as he drove around, you felt like a teenager again somehow. It was a funny feeling. You still remembered him driving you both around, the Stones on the radio, then parking behind some abandoned place to make out on the back. Good old days.

You guys went to his grandma’s home. The small, green house.

The old woman opened the door, her big smile appeared once she saw you. Albeit it faltered when she didn’t see her great-grandchildren

“Oh, my dearest loves!” His grandma said with excitement, hugging you first and then Austin. Typical.

Austin was happy to see his grandma and you too, this woman was basically your second grandma. As you made your way inside her house, you felt like a child again, the smell of grandma’s home was something you wish you’ll never forget. Because you were getting used to that god-awful smell of loneliness in New York. One that started to appear once Austin and you spent less and less time together.

When you two walked inside his childhood bedroom, you both were washed with a feeling of nostalgia, this room held too many memories. Still the same. The plaid sheets, the skateboard he only used once because he got scared, shelves full of trinkets, an old tv in the corner, movie posters as well as some Playboy posters.

“I remember this!” Austin ran to his bed and grabbed a stuffed animal. Like a little boy, he held it close to his chest and smelled it. Home. That’s what it smelled like.

As you looked around on your own, you stopped right in front of his cork board. It was filled with stuff from back then, dates and concert tickets. You saw a picture of you two, but eighteen years ago. Doing the math, you were fifteen. You looked extremely young, babies actually.

“I remember them.” You pointed out softly. How stupid and in love you both looked. Austin came to stand by your side, his hand reached to touch the photo, not his young self, but yours. He ran his finger through your face in the photo.

“Hey, we were tiny babies.” Austin spoke with a small smile. “We looked so in love.”

That was the problem, looked. Past. Austin looked like he was in love with anyone he met, except with you these past months. You weren’t blind, everyone could see it.

He acted so nonchalant after saying that, he moved away and went to the abandoned guitar. “Oh, remember this? How many times did I play you Wonderwall?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Enough to make me cringe.” You answered, still looking at the photo. You could still recall how many times you had to sit through him playing you Wonderwall by Oasis once he learned it. You hated that song now.

“Hey, it wasn’t so bad. Playing you that song made you want to sleep with me. Don’t deny it.” Austin said as he kept admiring his guitar.

“That was you. Not the guitar.” You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him. How things have changed, how nostalgic everything was.

Back when you two actually loved each other, and when it wasn’t just the fact that you two were used to each other what kept you together.

Sitting on the backyard of his grandma’s house, you stared at the old jungle gym you two used to play in. As a matter of fact, the giggles and voices still lingered in the air, far, but audible.

“I remember how much of a brat you were. Always accusing me of things.” You said. “Oh! Grandma! Y/n pushed me again and I scrapped my knee!” You imitated a child’s voice.

God, you could still remember the scoldings you got from your own grandma. Sometimes he just lied because you didn’t let him get on the slide first.

“I always got I wanted.” He spoke, a small smile forming in Austin’s face as he stared down at his glass of lemonade. “I still do.”

“You still do.” You spoke as the same time as him. You both chuckled to which you both know it was true, Austin could get whatever he ever wanted or desired.

That’s why you were still here. No matter how miserable everything was. He had something that made you want to stay by his side. Perhaps it was the fact that for more than 20 years you had thought that he was the one.

“You weren’t an angel either. In still looking for a replacement of my Workin Out Barbie. You broke it. And filled it with sand.” You scoffed, side eyeing him.

“Oh, you and your stupid doll.” Austin rolled his eyes. Smiling. “I told you I would get you one.”

“Well, I’m still waiting.” You smiled at him. Waiting? For what?

For him to love you as he used to do? To make as much effort as he did before? You didn’t know but you were still waiting. For something.

You can still remember that one special, core memory. When you were young teenagers.

“Stop. This a really old magazine.” You groaned as you sat under the tree, covering you both from getting sunburns.

“Oh, an old magazine. Please, I wouldn’t want to ruin your stupid magazine.” Austin imitated your voice, albeit his was laced with sarcasm.

“Don’t be stupid. This is my grandma’s.” You rolled your eyes. An old vintage magazine from the early 70’s.

“Lemme see it. The women back then were hot.” Austin said as he took the magazine from you. He started to eye it, skipping through the pages until you stopped him.

“That’s how I want my wedding dress to be.” You pointed at a page filled with wedding dresses, 70’s dresses, long, flowy, with bell sheer sleeves and lace. Perfect.

“You will look pretty in our wedding.” Austin said, turning to look at you with a sheepish smile.

“Excuse me, our wedding?” You asked, confused and a bit flustered. To which he nodded, his smile even wider now.

“Actually…” Austin looked through the pocket of his shorts, pulling a small lip gloss ring. Plastic, with glitter. Which probably costed him few cents. “I got this last week when I went out with Ashley and my mom. This, is while we grow up and I have the money to buy a good one.”

You blushed, smiling shyly as he took your hand and placed the ring on your finger. It was cute and you two were also fifteen. He leaned in and kissed your lips. You corresponded, although you two never told each other if you were dating or not. You both acted like a couple as soon as you discovered that you could.

“And the lipgloss is strawberry and pink. Your favorite.”

He knew you too well. It made you pull him closer and kissed him once again, this time your arms went around his neck. You both giggled in the kiss.

But as you pulled away he grabbed the opened magazine and ripped off the page where the dress of your dreams was displayed.

“What are you doing?” You freaked out and took the magazine from his hands.

“So you remember. For our wedding.” He gave you the page. You took it, your eyes wide open still.

“If my grandma sees the magazine—” he cut you off as he looked at you, a smile forming on his lips.

“Fuck your grandma.” He said, finding it funny. You found it funny too. The old woman was always uptight but she was your grandma.

“Austin!” You giggled as you shoved him softly.

Your giggles filled the backyard, as the air felt fresh and light.

Now, staring at that very same tree, all you could feel was the uptight flickering, as well as the sharp sting of words stuck in your throat.

“Do you remember when they would take us to church?” Austin mentioned, playing with his rings. You wished his hand was in your face, you always loved when you felt his cold rings against your cheek as he caressed your bottom lip.

“Yes. Yes I do. Why do you think I don’t take the kids to church?” You shook your head.

“I won’t ever get over when the preacher’s voice cracked while giving his sermon.”

The moment lingered in your minds. You both started laughing like there was not an end, like in the old times. But the laugh died early, vanishing with sighs.

“We should have taken them here.” He cleared his throat.

In reality, Austin would rather fill this uncomfortable silence with the sound of your kids running and screaming. He hated the fact that you both were so close yet so far apart. It’s like he couldn’t even reach for you. And he hated that.

“We should visit the church. Maybe it’s still as small.” He stood up and fixed his belt.

You were in for a ride.

That talk with Austin had been way too bitterly nostalgic, what was the point in dwelling of something that couldn’t return, because it had slipped from your fingers, vanished with the wind, like dirt, you could see it fly away but you couldn’t stop it or see where it landed afterwards.

You hadn’t been here in so long, Church. The church your grandmas forced you to go to when they hung out. You still remembered the altar to pray in the corner of the small church.

So you two knelt in front of the altar, it was weird. You remembered vividly being young and never actually praying, you only closed your eyes and placed your hands together.

“I don’t even know what to pray for.” You chuckled, before turning to look at Austin.

Then, you saw it. Your worst nightmare, you saw him. Yes, Austin, but not him now. But his younger self, 17 years old. The one that took you to pray after your grandmother passed

“Whatever you wish. Is just between you and whoever you’re praying to.” He looked at you, smiling. To which you only stared in complete horror.

From his perspective, he couldn’t even stare at you, staring right in front of him strictly, he forced himself to not turn his head around to face you, because if he did, he remembered your seventeen year old self. The one that didn’t know who or how to pray, whose breath was shaky.

It was heartbreaking, very. Gulping and while you forced yourself to look at him due to the guilt, he couldn’t even look at you because of the guilt.

“Austin…” You tried to speak to him, but it was too much.

“It’s too late.” He said before standing up and leaving the small church immediately.

Without knowing what to do, you looked at him and then turned around, you took a deep breath and then followed him out the church.

“No, it’s not too late. We can work on this.” You raised your voice at him.

“Really? Because I couldn’t even fucking look at you.” He turned around. Almost growling. “There’s nothing we can’t do anymore. Nothing that we haven’t done already.”

“If there’s guilt then there’s love!” You tried to excuse everything. “Why would we feel guilty if we supposedly do not care for each other anymore?”

“It’s not love. We’re just used to each other at this point! Listen, we can’t even stand each other anymore. That’s the point.” Austin spoke, his hand in his hip while his other rubbed his temple.

You stared at him. Perhaps it wasn’t the fact that your heart was breaking, but the fact that you would lose that certainty that he would always be there. Because he had always been.

“No, listen. From the beginning I knew this wouldn’t work. I just did this for the sake of nostalgia. But I cannot keep pretending. I really, really care for you. But all of this— it’s over.”

Definitely, it was the whole fucking truth but you just didn’t want to accept it.

The more it hurts, the less it shows.

“Listen, I’ve talked about this with my lawyer. Alright? It sounds bad but I just— I had to. We can get to an agreement. A quiet and calm divorce.”

To see Austin, the man who swore to never get a divorce, who didn’t want to repeat the story of his parents and childhood, ask you for a divorce. It hurt quite a lot actually, a burning pain in your chest.

“You know what? You may be right. This won’t work.” You tried to act tough. But you were crumbling inside.

As soon as you both were on your own. You both sobbed your hearts out privately. How weird. If you guys wanted a fictive so bad then why did it hurt so fucking much that it burned?

You nodded your head as you stopped the tears from falling.

“A divorce it is.”

[heatherwitch]

[venerablemonk27]

I found the Snowy Owl! Using the recent sightings reported in the area as my guide, I went driving around Dane, WI yesterday. I stopped to scan a corn field with my binoculars and spotted this guy perched on a fence post.

[ID: A male Snowy Owl sits on a wooden fence post and stares directly at the camera. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

I knew right away the large white bird on the post was the Snowy I was after, so I quickly grabbed my camera and got out to find a good spot to set up. Of course, as soon as I got the bird in frame he decided to fly up to the roof peak of a farm building further away. Even so, I sat down and took a few long-distance bursts in case that was only look I would get. Then I noticed that there was a house among the farm buildings. If someone was home maybe they'd let me take a closer look?

[ID: A male Snowy Owl sits on a wooden fence post and looks into the distance to the left. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

Just as I'd hoped, the folks living there were home and they were happy to let me onto their property for a chance at a better photo. They even pointed out a good spot behind a concrete wall where I could stand totally out of sight of the corn field. It turned out to be such a good blind that all the shots in this post were taken there. And just as we were talking, the Owl flew back down to that same fence post!

[ID: A male Snowy Owl sits on a wooden fence post and looks into the distance to the right. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

He was very cooperative, sitting mostly still while I fiddled with settings and let the auto-focus pick between the snow and the post. I figure he was hunting, scanning the field for little creatures. Then he did a little preening and stretched his neck before taking flight!

[ID: A male Snowy Owl takes flight. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. His wings are fully extended upward and his shaggy legs hang down below, showing just a hint of black talons. Its eyes are closed to slits. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

[ID: A male Snowy Owl flies low over a snow-covered corn field. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His wings are extended downward, showing the full pattern of white and brown flecks on the flight feathers. His eyes are closed to slits. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

He didn't immediately pounce on anything, instead wheeling up toward a tree across the field. I thought he would land up there, but instead he flushed a smaller dark bird and started chasing it! Zooming in on the photos of the sortie revealed that the enemy was either a Cooper's or a Sharp-shinned Hawk. I wish I could have seen how that encounter turned out, but they flew out of sight across the field.

[ID: A male Snowy Owl chases a hawk in the distance, flying through the snowfall near a large barn. End ID]

Even without a high-speed pursuit, seeing the Snowy Owl so close was my top birding moment of the year so far. Many thanks to Dean and Deb for welcoming me onto their property and making this moment possible!

[tyudearyous]

selfish waltz - j.yh

pairings : jeong yunho x reader

genre : angst (no comfort)

word count : 2k

author's note : PLEASE KEEP IN MIND ANYTHING YOU'RE READING HERE IS FICTION! the characters are portrayed in fictional manners, so nothing is real here! yunho is kind of shitty here so yeah :'D

🎵 take a bite - beabadoobee, malibu nights - lany, color blind - maddox, i don't wanna love you anymore - lany

masterlist

—

anon asks :

was falling in love ever a mistake? if it wasn’t then why is everyone ridiculing me for it? is it ever my fault for wanting to be loved? i crave love and i want it. i can’t keep on living like this. i feel like an outcast whenever people talk about love. i hate feeling like this.

posted on 21/07/2016 00.21 AM

—

anon replies :

hi anon! i just wanted to reassure you that it’s not wrong to fall in love! in fact, love is such a wonderful thing you know! i hope things get better for you. wishing the best for you anon!

posted on 21/07/2016 03.23 AM

—

friday, 22/07/2016

click not again. click ah, why isn’t it working at all. click oh! it’s good now. your old camera has been through a lot but it is a memoir you can never get rid of. you photographed almost your entire life with it and you definitely have a little bit of an unhealthy attachment to it. “boo!” you were startled and almost dropped your camera. “jeong yunho.” you glared at the person. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i didn’t think you’d be that scared” yunho quickly took a seat next to you and gave you a sheepish smile. he was trying to make you not get angry at him and well, his puppy eyes are hard to resist. “that’s still working?” he points to your old digital camera. “i take good care of it, so of course it would” you said proudly. if there was one thing you could be proud of is that you are extremely good at taking care of your things. heck, your phone from 2009 still works up to this day.

yunho gives you a mocking smile in response, in which you shoved him jokingly and that made him laugh. you both then fell into a rather comfortable silence where you continued your previous shenanigans again.

“still taking photos?” he asked curiously. you only nodded before adjusting your camera to zoom in to the daffodil in front of you. “you like daffodils?” he moved closer to you. “they’re pretty” you replied, still focused to your camera. “mmm, it’s my birth flower” he states. “so?” you moved your gaze to stare at him. “mmm nothing. just wanted to say that” he moves back with a grin on his face. he is completely unpredictable, but guess that was what you loved about him.

—

anon asks :

is it wrong to love your best friend? i’m scared, i feel like i want him too much and it might be bad for our friendship

posted on 22/07/2016 08.34 PM

—

anon replies :

hi anon! like i said before, falling in love isn’t bad! but when it comes to friendships, it might be hard. i’m rooting for you though! you can’t control love anyway ^^

posted on 23/07/2016 07.29 AM

—

saturday, 23/07/2016

it was a sunny saturday afternoon, you’re currently in yunho’s house doing group work with several other classmates. this group work has been something you’ve been dreading to do. after all, you only got there because of yunho. you bet he pitied you, that’s why he took you in but none of that matters. yunho was nice enough to let you in but that didn’t mean others accepted you.

for some reason, none of yunho’s friends really liked you. some were neutral, some hated you. you weren’t a clingy friend to yunho, nor were you forcing him to be only friends with you. well, you can’t control them. yunho was your polar opposite anyway. perhaps they just thought that you were annoying and not talkable with.

“um, is this part supposed to be empty?” you asked to your group mates. one part of the assignment is left empty even though it’s not supposed to be empty. “seriously? you have to ask us that?” one of them replied, in a snappy tone. “i wanted to make sure” the room fell into an uncomfortable silence as your voice quieted down. you quickly went on your way to work on that part while staying silent. they purposely left out the hardest part for you to do. it’s not hard, just tricky and they just don’t want to deal with it.

“hey, want me to help? i know it’s tricky” yunho apporached you while you were working on the problem. of course, you accepted the help. who would want to do a tricky calculus problem alone? having two brains working on it is much better than just one. “sorry about that, we had chosen the parts we were going to do before but i forgot to inform you. sorry” it seems that he feels bad but it’s alright. you’re here not really welcomed either. “it’s okay” you reassured him despite feeling uncomfortable. the thing with yunho is that he’s a big people pleaser. he won’t stand up for anyone if he knew it wasn’t beneficial for him. it’s an annoying trait of his but you weren’t anyone to call him out for it. you knew where you stand and you had to stay there because you weren’t anything special for him. just a friend, who hoped for more.

—

sunday, 24/07/2016

the problem was trickier than you originally thought. even with yunho, you couldn’t finish the problem yesterday. so, you went back to his place to finish it off. it had been three hours since you started working on it again and the problem was only 70% done. mathematics is a pain in the ass but it’s fun if it’s solved. however, you both were only humans so just like how any humans would, you took a break after the three hours work time.

“why did mr. park think this was a good idea!?” yunho groaned as he threw his pencil. “you know him” you laughed as you opened your phone to scroll around qforums. “you use that too?” he asked. “what?” you instinctively moved your phone away from him. “i just wanted to knoww! i also use it too you know!” he whined. you only smiled before saying yes. it was a harmless question anyway. he goes on to tell the stories of the weirdest asks he ever read in the forum. from the story of a laughing dog to a hidden underground tunnel in someone’s house, he told it all. you realized having someone keeping you sane through mathematics is very important. thankfully, yunho was there.

—

monday, 25/07/2016

“give it back!” you desperately reach up. one of your classmate, jisung decided it’d be a great idea to take your phone and open qforums. “i said give it back!” “class! listen up! is it wrong to love your best friend? y/n, is this about yunho!?” he asked loudly, unti; the entire class’ attention was to you. you froze, you couldn’t answer anything. everyone’s eyes were focused at you. staring straight with a mocking smile. your head started spinning from the pressure. “shit! this is so funny. oh my, you’re really in love with this friend huh? so, is it really yunho?” jisung kneeled slightly to ask you. “earth to y/n? i’m asking you a question here!” he shook your body. cold sweats started to break out of your body before you took your phone from him and quickly ran away to the bathroom. you could hear laughters from people as you ran. you could feel their gaze.

as you reached the bathroom, you quickly went to one of the stalls and sat down to recollect yourself. it was going to be widespread for sure and of course, yunho would know. what would you answer if he asked? would you lie and ignore the fact that you had been in love with him since forever? it was a shitty day and you just want it to end.

your prediction was correct. it became widespread, even videos were shared everywhere. everyone was making fun of you. you’re sure yunho knows it too. knowing yunho, he would ask you about it. he would want answers. were you ready to give answers though?

—

yunho : can we talk, after school?

yunho : i’m not mad, i just want to talk

you : ok

—

“is it true?” yunho immediately asked you. “i didn’t want anyone to find out” your voice was small, just like how you felt right now. “what the heck y/n?” his response caught you off guard. “what?” you were confused now. “why?” he asks, with a tone unpleasant to your ears. “what? i can’t control my feelings, yunho. what do you mean why with that tone? is it a crime?” “did you seriously fall for me just because i was kind to you?” your heart fell into million pieces. you couldn’t say anything after he asked you that. the man in front of you wasn’t the yunho you knew. you don’t know this person at all. the yunho you knew would reject you kindly but this man? he’s not yunho.

“is it that easy for you to fall for people? i was kind to you because you had no one and we were friends back then so i felt inclined to but, falling in love? i’m sorry y/n, i just feel that you’re being too, how do i word it, selfish?” yunho continued. “why the fuck is it selfish for me to love?” your tears started to fall at this point. you were fine with rejections, after all he was above your league. but this? nothing could prepare you for this. “love isn’t selfish but shouldn’t you at least realize your situation? i never thought that person who kept asking about love in the forums was you” he replied. “were you the one who answered?” you asked him. “shit.” he wasn’t meant to say that. he knew he would look like a shittier person to you if you knew that fact. however, cat’s out of the closet and you couldn’t even explain how shitty you feel right now.

“what the hell jeong yunho?” you felt so incredibly betrayed by him. it was as if thousands of thorns pricked your heart open to the point it bled to a sea, your heart hurted, so bad. “shit, i didn’t mean to say that but just, fuck i look like a shitty person now” “you are.” “what?” he was visibly taken aback by your response. “you’re a shitty person and i regret falling for such a shit person like you now. i never expected anything from you and yet you treat me like this? i genuinely loved you, i knew you wouldn’t like it if we were more than friends, that’s why i kept it to myself. i always kept it in, yunho. i never expected anything from you. i didn’t want more of your kindness, i was always fine with everything.” you tried to continue but your heart just hurts so much, you couldn’t handle it. you broke down and cried, because your heart just hurts.

he only stood there as he saw you cry. doing nothing but stare. you couldn’t care enough to look at him but cry. “i’m sorry” he muttered as he left. he left you alone, in pain, crying. this day was truly a shitty day.

—

some day in 2006,

a kid moved into your neighborhood on a random sunday morning. their family approached yours and made you befriend their kid. naturally, your parents would bring you to play with him in the nearby park. you quickly ran to the swing, which the kid followed.

“what’s your name?” you asked the kid. “yunho! jeong yunho! you?” he excitedly says. “i’m y/n! han y/n! nice to meet you yunho!” you shook your hands with his.

“i hope we can be friends forever!” the kid states.

but 10 years later, that same exact kid would break your heart to the point it’s irreparable now. so what the fuck does that forever supposed to mean?

end. or is it the end?

[writersdare]

5SOS ♡ Masterlist

Last update: 28.11.2024

Main Masterlist | Requests are temporary closed | Prompt List | Taglist | Recommendations | Angst Endings

♡ – readers' favourite; ♥︎ – the most popular 5SOS work

Luke Hemmings

Hold Me Tight Summary: Luke has been plagued by nightmares, but Y/N was always there for him. Warning: hurt/comfort, nightmares

Let Me Love You Summary: Luke knew it wasn’t his fault Y/N didn’t let him get any closer, but he just wished to know what he could do to make it better. Warning: angsty, trusting issues, mentioning of a breakup, the reader may have low self-esteem Two Gummy Worms ♡ Summary: Luke was determined to take Y/N on a night drive. Some things, though, didn’t want to go according to his perfect plan. Warning: friends to lovers, fluff, mentioning of food

He Called Her a Fairy Summary: No matter how excited Luke was to go on tour, it was always too heartbreaking to say goodbye to Y/N. However, that parting was worth going through to meet again. Warning: hurt/comfort, angsty

Eyes Can Speak Too Summary: Being blinded by the feelings for each other, Luke and Y/N didn’t see the obvious things. Warning: friends to lovers, angst, trusting issues, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

Sweeter Than Honey Summary: Spending a simple evening with Y/N, Luke realised she was always his happy place. Warning: fluff

Baby Girl Summary: Even in Y/N’s darkest times, Luke was always there to guide her to the light. Warning: hurt/comfort, disordered eating

Why Won’t You Love Me Summary: Luke and Y/N broke up after a few months of dating so they could at least remain friends, but seemed like it didn’t ease the pain. Warning: angst, fluff, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

Never Doubt Me Summary: A date, it would seem, could not get any worse, but then Luke remembered a painful rumour he heard about Y/N. Warning: argument

No Longer Together Summary: Trying to move on from a breakup, Luke and Y/N found each other at the same room, playing “spin the bottle”. Warning: College!AU, angst, mention of alcohol and a breakup

More coming...

Ashton Irwin

Keep It Quiet ♡ Summary: Ashton and Y/N kept their relationship a secret for a while, but one interview made the things a little complicated. Warning: none

Give Me Attention Summary: Ashton and Y/N had been friends for a while. However, everything changed once she found out an unpleasant secret he thought to hide from her. Warning: angst, an intimate moment, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

More coming...

Michael Clifford

Don’t Be a Stranger Summary: The tour was over, and Michael and Y/N finally met again. Both were uncertain who they were to each other after months being apart. Warning: slight angst

Calum Hood

Ghost of You Summary: It had been four months of silence between Calum and Y/N. Could she finally move on?  Warning: angst All Too Well Summary: It’s the first time ever when Calum and Y/N didn’t need to be apart, as they were going on tour together. However, things could never just be perfect, could they? Warning: angst, fluff, a bit of cursing

Strawberry Jam Summary: The winter holidays were simply the best for both Calum and Y/N, especially when a heating problem in their house occurred. Warning: fluff, friends to lovers

Password Is Your Birthday ♡♥︎ Summary: Y/N never doubted Calum’s loyalty, however, once controversial photos were leaked, their relationship was put to the test. Warning: angsty, mention of alcohol

Paris Broke My Heart Part 1 | Part 2 Summary: Calum knew he’d lose Y/N each time she’d start a new relationship, but that time it was different. She was leaving the country, maybe forever. Warning: 18+ (non-detailed smut), angst, fluff, friends to lovers, cursing and mentioning of alcohol

More coming...

– photo is obv not mine and belongs to the rightful owner –

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

[aphfanficwriters]

Monthly Members' Fics — Jan 2024

In the year of a dragon by mossy_man (China/Russia, Russia/Spain) “I neglected your needs,” Yao sighs and scuttles closer and there is a slice of persimmon at Ivan’s lips. The gel slides over his lower lip and he catches it with his tongue. “Forgive me, Vanya. Blinded by my own bitterness, I was a poor host and a poor giver.”

Euphoria by Delgumo (Canada/Russia) Matthew enjoys a drunken quickie with a somewhat strange gentleman.

Before The Reyse (Part One) by proosh (Lithuania/Prussia) Day 1 - Soulmate tattoo/childhood promise. Tolys could smell the ocean from where he waited... It was just before the raiding season would begin in full and his brother was late.

Before The Reyse (Part Two) by proosh (Lithuania/Prussia) Day 7 - Not for you/mistaken identity It was their usual meeting spot before each of the raiding seasons, midsummer and midwinter. He could smell the ocean from here, bitter and churning from the autumn storms… Tolys was late.

The Hunt (Part One) by proosh (Lithuania/Prussia, implied Prussia/Russia) Day 2 - Omegaverse/hunting party All Russia had been summoned to the call to chase the French from their lands, and the winter in all its fury had come with them… Next to his brothers stood the interloper.

The Hunt (Part Two) by proosh (Lithuania/Prussia) Day 4 - Gifts/trophies They fell upon the stragglers at the frozen gully… Tolys didn’t get a chance to have a good look at them before the killing started.

Better than Gold by Jestemburakiem (Lithuania/Prussia, past Lithuania/Russia) Written for day four of Lietpru week The Story of Lithuania during the most pivotal moments of the modern history of his country: The 1992 Summer Olympic Men's Basketball Tournament. Prussia takes notice of this.

Макдоналдс by Delgumo (America/Russia) Russia and America host the grand opening of the first McDonald's in Russia.

So pour the champagne by mossy_man (Prussia/Russia) Some would love a house with white fence, a dozen or so of kids and a dog. Not Gilbert. Gilbert is perfectly fine as he is.

1001 Ways To Die — Chapter 7: Dying Days 2 by NashTea (Fishandnear) (Germay/Japan) Another impromptu session between Kiku and Ludwig partaking in their favourite activity, this time, it's a little different for Kiku.

Joy in Punishment by Delgumo (Canada/Russia) [no summary]

Little lamb by mossy_man (Mongolia/Russia) “Mongolia is like the sun,” he says. His big hands map Mongolia's face. “Lie down, for I am going to fuck you.”

we begin again by hopeless_nostalgia (England/Japan) After Kiku finds a bunch of old photos, he and Arthur go through them, causing old feelings to resurface.

because it's you, I'm fine by hopeless_nostalgia (England/Japan) Arthur is training to be an idol in Japan, which (obviously) requires him to learn Japanese. But it's a struggle… he keeps failing at the same points, over and over again. He feels so hopeless that he decides to skip class, go for a walk, and decide if it was even worth it—because at this rate, it will take years before he comes even close to debuting...

a scene without you by hopeless_nostalgia (England/Japan) Two years ago, Arthur graduated and went back to London. Kiku lost all contact with him a month before he boarded the plane, when in an odd little café, they decided that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work for them and that breaking up would be for the best. Now that these two years have passed, Kiku knows that that was not true. He sits in that same café, at that same table, and wishes there was a way to turn back time…

my heaven by hopeless_nostalgia (England/Japan) “You know… If you want to, we can still have a wedding,” Kiku suggested. “That might not be a bad idea,” Arthur chuckled weakly. “Maybe we should.”

[justagingerwithredhair]

1. My favorite traveler is Temenos! I initially chose him first because of the advertised mystery plot (and I love me a good mystery), but his sassy personality and off the charts bastardom levels were a delight to have as well. His story is also thrilling with captivating twists and turns. I didn't mind the culprit being a bit obvious so long as the story is still engaging.

2. How dare you make me choose just one! I love so many!!! I suppose if I can only choose one, I'll say Clarissa! I think she plays an invaluable part in getting through Osvald's walls and showing the player that his revenge, while justified, is blinding. She's clearly upset with Ethan's fate but she, unlike Osvald, has learned to move on and encourages Osvald to start healing as well.

3. My absolute favorite chapter has got to be Agnea chapter 5. Everything from the setting, the stakes, the characters, and the boss battle all just put a huge smile on my face! Her story is one the last I finished and let me tell you, it was a breath of fresh air after stories like Osvald's, Temenos's, Thronè's, Castti's... you get the idea...

4. My favorite overall path is Temenos's due to my previously stated love for mystery plots.

5. My favorite boss fight is Trousseau's. With Castti's memory restored, the stakes so incredibly high, and the mechanics of the boss putting a time limit on the battle, it all concocted the perfect storm for an unforgettable finale!

6. My favorite optional dungeon is the House Wellows Manor. It's a decrepit haunted mansion with spooky yet mysterious lore. What else can I say to make you fall in love?

7. My favorite default job is the Scholar. Why? Spells. I love me some spells. Some arcane arts. Some witchcraft. Some magics. Hee hee

8. My favorite secret job is the Inventor! (though they are all great and fun)

9. Meta wise, Arcanist Partitio is my favorite because of the Seal of Diffusion + Sidestep combo. But overall, Scholar Temenos is not only a great healer and damage dealer but he also look so dapper! I love his leather peacoat look. I want it. Give it to me.

10. My favorite town is Montwise. An autumnal university town with a giant library and beautiful music? I think I found heaven.

11. My favorite side quest is "A Mysterious Box." It's tied to the House Wellows Manor and despite it's eerie nature, its conclusion is quite heartwarming!

12. My favorite travel banter has got to be "Cleaning Up" with Castti and Thronè.

13. ALL OF IT! ALL OF THE SOUNDTRACK IS GOOD! But some of my favorites are Main Theme (Night), Temenos the Cleric, Doubt Is What I Do, Toto'haha (Night), Empty Memories, Miscreants Melody, Home of Wisdom and Arts, Flamechurch, Sacred Light (Day & Night), every "In Pursuit of (x)" theme and The Journey for (x) Ends theme, Song of Hope, Gil on the Keys, Dark Night, Invitation to Darkness, and Dear Travelers.

14. I chose Mahina but I wish I had picked Akala because it woulf have fit my build better. (sorry Mahaina!) (I still love you <3)

15. I chose the blue paint with the unicorn ornament!

16. Three words: 👏Deal👏More👏Damage👏

17. Temenos and Throné have all of the best friends energy

18. Ochette is NOT 20! She is 12 and NOTHING will convince me otherwise!!!!

19. Crick's death almost brought me to sad tears but Agena's Fin. photo almost brought me to tears of joy!

20. My first "Dark Night" sequence with the creepy music was pretty unsettling. Lostseed was downright bone-chilling. And the reveal of what Harvey did to Rita filled me with indescribable horror.

21. Alrond: Partito... you truly are a charismatic individual. However, my purse strings do not come undone for a smile and a song. Before I invest, I need a closer appraisal of your caliber.

Partitio: Er... do you want me to take my shirt off or somethin'?

22. I can't think of any good anecdotes at the moment, but I'll come back and edit this post if one pops up in my head!

23. I love this game in every way, but there is one thing that sometimes bugs me. The voice acting is absolutely incredible, no doubt about it, but in some scenes, it gave me tonal whiplash. Take Harvey, for example. He is a sinister, conniving monster of a man. He's a liar, an arsonist, a kidnapper, a thief, a plagiarizer, a manipulator, a murderer, and a multitude of other things that I haven't listed. This nutjob is guilty of countless atrocities, yet his voice actor's performance feels so comical. He sounds like a Sunday morning cartoon villain rather than the despicable professor who will kill anyone in his pursuit of power. I just wish he sounded more menacing rather than goofy.

24. I did play Octopath 1, but I never finished the game, unfortunately. But I can say with confidence that Octopath Traveler II has improved on the original in every way possible.

Octopath Traveler II ask game 🧭

Been looking for one of these since I finished the game but I haven't found one, so I made my own :3

Favorite traveler? (And if they were who you started with?)

Favorite NPC?

Favorite single chapter?

Favorite overall path?

Favorite boss fight?

Favorite optional dungeon?

Favorite default job?

Favorite secret job?

Favorite build for [character]?

Favorite town?

Favorite sidequest?

Favorite travel banter?

Favorite soundtrack?

Which companion did you choose for Ochette?

How did you customize your Grand Terry?

Did you have a That One Support Skill that you bought for every traveler?

Best relationship/dynamic between 2 characters (& elaborate!)?

A headcanon for [character]?

A moment that made you cry (or you just found sad)?

A moment that gave you chills (or you just found creepy)?

A moment that made you laugh out loud (or you just found funny)?

An amusing anecdote from your playthrough?

One thing that bugged you / you would change about the game?

Did you play the original Octopath Traveler? (And how does it compare?)

[believinghurts]

Their Daughter

Chapter 5

Author’s note: I use Grammarly to fix my mistakes, but there could still be some so sorry for that. Also, I am getting back into writing and am hoping to have a few more works out soon! Please reblog, like, or comment feedback is appreciated.

Word Count: 4,400

Warnings: None? Sirius being a d*ck? Maybe language, but I don’t think so.

Regulus wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stroked his niece's hair. He was mad at his brother for basically throwing away the only good thing that had ever come from the Black family. Sirius was too blinded by the past to see what was right in front of him. As children, Sirius often told Regulus that he was their family's favorite and that it bothered him, but if he knew what it was like to be less loved then how can he love Harry more than Ali? He understood that Harry was Sirius's Godson, but couldn’t he love Ali and Harry equally? If Sirius made the effort maybe Ali and the other children could even be friends. His heart ached from the emotional battle that Ali was going through right now. Even if Sirius didn’t see it, he and Remus did. Ali’s light was dimmer than before and when she was lighting up again after finding out Sirius never came for her, Sirius just had to go and snuffed it out.

Carefully sliding out from under Ali and placing a pillow under her head Regulus left the room. He shut the door behind him casting a locking spell so she wouldn’t be bothered. He needed to speak with Remus first before doing anything. They needed to decide what to do about Ali. As much as Regulus wanted to spend time with her before she went back to school he didn’t want her to be this upset anymore. He walked into the study to find Remus and Nymphadora sitting near the fireplace.

“How is she?” Nymphadora blurted the question as soon as she saw her cousin. Remus had owled her after Ali had gone to her room. The older sister in her wanted to go up to Sirius and give him a piece of her mind, but she knew that it wouldn’t do any good.

“She’s asleep for now. All the fighting has exhausted her. I honestly don’t know what to do. I want her here, this is her home, but if Sirius doesn’t stop acting like the brut that he is it is going to hurt her more. Speaking of Sirius, where is he? It’s quiet.” Regulus flopped down on the chair across from Remus and Nymphadora raking a hand through his hair. His worry for Ali was causing him a headache. On one hand, he wanted to send Ali to stay at the Malfoy Manor for the remainder of summer, but on the other, he wanted to hold her close and have her stay in her home where she belonged.

“Sirius left with Harry after you went upstairs. He hasn’t been home since. The Weasleys stepped out to Diagon Alley to get the kids stuff for school.” Remus replied. He was secretly thankful that the house was mainly empty. This way at least Ali could come down if she felt like it without the chance of someone bothering her. Remus was having the same thoughts as Regulus about keeping Ali at home virus's sending her to the Manor. He just wanted his niece to be happy. The hope that he had of Sirius and Ali having the father/daughter relationship was gone. If only Remus could get Sirius to open his eyes to the pain he was causing to the girl, but Sirius was nothing if not stubborn.

“I think I am going to write to Cissa and see if she can keep Ali for the rest of summer. If that’s what it takes for her to be happy then so be it. We can see her off at the -“

“I don’t want to leave,” Ali’s voice interrupted. “I want to stay here with you. Please don’t make me leave. I can handle it, I promise.”

Ali knew that she and Regulus were going to have to talk about the fact that she called him dad, but that was a private conversation. Right now she needed to convince the adults in the room that she didn’t need to leave. She could take Sirius. Yes the words that he had said hurt her and the actions he did tonight furthered that hurt in her heart, but she was done. She didn’t owe him anything, and it was clear she knew that he didn’t want to be her father. She had meant what she said to Regulus. He was her father in all the ways that counted. He loved her unconditionally, was always there for her, and protected her.

She went and sat on the couch in between Nymphadora and Remus who wrapped an arm around her pulling her close to his chest. “It might be best if you went and stayed for the rest of the summer at the Manor, Al. This isn’t good for you mentally. We all can see how drained you are.”

“No, this is my home. I can handle it. I have you all plus the older Weasleys and Fleur. You'll protect me and if I need to get away for a little bit I’ll owl Blaise or Draco to go to Diagon Alley or something. I want to spend time with you. Times are hard right now and you never know when you are going to lose someone and I would like to have as much time with each of you just in case.”

Regulus leaned forward taking Ali’s hand in his, “Nothing, and I mean nothing is going to happen to us. I love you more than you could ever imagine and if you want to stay here you can.” Ali smiles brightly at that before Regulus cut her off, “but you have to tell me, Remus, or Severus, if anything happens. And you have to come out of your room. I am not having you locking yourself away again. Got it?”

Ali pounced on Regulus, hugging his neck tight. She was excited to spend some more time with her family. She had meant what she said about never knowing when something was going to happen. Wizards had been disappearing all over London and she was genuinely scared something was going to happen to her loved ones. She was going to make it a point to take plenty of photos and make enough memories to last a lifetime the next couple of weeks.

Regulus held his niece tight, fighting back the tears when she whispered, “Thanks, Dad,” into his ear. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but this was one title he was going to wear proudly.

Remus’s voice interrupted the moment, “wait for a second, why are you going to owl Blaise? We have an agreement, young lady, no boys till you're thirty!”

Ali’s giggle was music to those in the room with her, and for the first time that summer they all saw Ali smile at home the brightest she had since everyone arrived.

————

The rest of the day was eventful which was something that everyone was thankful for. Nymphadora left shortly after spending some time with Ali since she had something to attend to with Moody, so that left Regulus, Ali, and Remus to watch the Star Wars movies in Ali’s room. Kreacher brought them snacks while they made a fort on the floor. Ali was incredibly content laying on the mounds of pillows in between her Uncles. When she was younger they would have movie nights like this once a month until she started Hogwarts. Even then she and her friends carried on the tradition in the boy's dorm since Draco was often present at the ones hosted at home. She wished that she could have Draco over now, but knew that if she brought him here then everyone in the house would throw a fit about it, maybe it was something to bring up to Regulus later.

Molly called them all down for dinner shortly after the second film ended. Leaving the mess on the floor the trio made their way downstairs with Ali trailing behind her Uncles. She could feel her nerves spike the closer she got to the dining room. She thought about excusing herself stating she wasn’t hungry, but the loud growl in her stomach gave her hunger away. Everyone had already sat down beside Harry and Sirius when they got into the room. Regulus pulled the seat out next to him for his niece. Fleur shot her a smile when she sat down by her uncle with Charlie on her other side. At least she was sitting near someone who didn’t hate her.

Chatter and the sounds of forks on plates filled the room as everyone got their fill of Molly’s meatballs and onion sauce. Everyone broke off into separate conversations. Remus, Regulus, and Arthur talking about the Ministry, the younger Weasleys, and Hermione talking about Quidditch, Bill and Fleur about their upcoming wedding, and Charlie and Ali talking about his work in Romania. “What are you planning on doing after you leave Hogwarts?”

Ali shot a glance over at Remus who was doing a terrible job of disguising his eavesdropping on the duo. “I am thinking about becoming a professor. I like creatures obviously so I was thinking something along those lines, but I also like Herbology. So maybe that. I just know I want to teach.”

Charlie shot her a grin. “Have you thought about where? I know Hogwarts has Sprout for Herbology and Hagrid was doing Care of Magical Creatures, but you still have three more years of school so maybe they’ll need someone by the time you're done.”

Ali shrugged her shoulders. In all honesty, she wanted to leave England and travel for a bit but knew that if she brought it up now it would be a fight or something so she bit her tongue. “Maybe.”

The noise came to a halt when the door slammed open in the living room. Everyone hopped to their feet, wands at the ready. It felt like hours had passed before the intruder walked through the door. “Sirius! Harry! Merlin, you scared us all.”

“Sorry, it’s raining hard and we were in a rush to get back home.” Sirius shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone retook their seats beside Milly who served Harry and Sirius. Ali tried her hardest to keep from looking at the latest duo that entered, not wanting to cause any more trouble or to give Sirius a reason to lash out at her.

Dinner passed rather quickly, conversations flowed in their small groups. Charlie had gone with Fleur and Bill on a scouting mission shortly after eating, while Fred and George worked on new products for their shop. Ali was in her head thinking about asking to go to meet Pansy in the coming days to look at a new book shop. Pansy wasn’t much of a reader but was always looking for an excuse to get out of her house. She was startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up Molly was smiling softly at her while handing her a letter in a dark blue envelope. She instantly knew who the letter was from since only one person used that kind of envelope when writing her.

“This came for you, dear, when you were with your uncles. I didn't want to bother you then I almost forgot just now.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Ali smiled at the kind woman. Despite her feelings towards most of the Weasley children, their parents were quite nice.

Molly patted her cheek before walking off. Ali started to rip the top off when she got Regulus’s eye and he winked at her. He knew who the letter was from having met the boy a few times already. Her cheeks flushed and continued to do so while reading it.

Dear Supernova,

I hope you are surviving the dreadfulness that is upon you right now with all the people in your house. Yes, Draco told me what was going on yesterday when I finally threatened to out his crush if he didn’t explain why we hadn’t been seeing you a lot this summer. I have to say I am quite hurt that you didn’t tell me yourself. Best friends I thought. Just joking, but seriously you could have told me about him and I wouldn't have said a word to anyone.

I miss you, Supernova. We’ve only got to see each other once this summer and we both know when school starts you will have a book shoved in front of your face in the first three minutes. Could we get together sometime this week? It has been awful at home and if I have to hear Draco's voice one more time without you there to tell him off for being annoying I may throw myself off the astronomy tower.

Your uncle may not agree, but you could come to stay at mine for a night. Mother agreed to it as long as Regulus does and we have separate rooms. If you can't, maybe I can come to you? I don’t really care what the redheads have to say about me being there so don’t worry about that. We have much to catch up on; like the fact that you got Headgirl and also didn’t write and tell me. I had to find that little tidbit out from Parkinson's. Don’t worry we’ll catch up whether that's soon or on the train.

love,

Zabini

Ali felt a pang of guilt hit her square in the chest. She hadn’t meant to forget to fill Blaise in on her life but it had been so crazy recently she hadn’t got to write anyone much. In all the truth no one knew that she had gotten Headgirl. She had gotten the letter from Flitwich a few days after the Weasley’s arrived and completely forgot. Although she told her Uncles she didn’t want to go anywhere spending some time with Blaise sounded nice. Deciding to just rip the bandaid off she looked up to find Regulus and Remus looking at her with amused smiles on their faces.

“What’s you got there, Ali?” Remus asked, causing her cheeks to flame red. She wasn’t scared to say that she wanted to hang out with a boy. She did it all the time whether it was Blaise, Theo, or Draco; it was more to do with the fact that she was about to ask to spend the night at a boys' house. Even if they were going to be in separate rooms and they had fallen asleep cuddled together weeks prior at the Malfoys, something none of her Uncles knew, it was going to be a little fight to get Remus to agree as he made the ‘no dating till you’re thirty’ rule when she was five and asked for a boyfriend for Christmas.

Looking around she noticed all attention was on her even if the other adults in the room were making it seem like they weren’t listening while the children openly gawked. “Uhm,” she was cut off by Severus stepping into the room. Great, now she had to face all three Uncles. Where were Dora and Cissa when she needed them?

Severus hugged her quickly before taking a place by Regulus. “Who's the letter from Ali?” He asked her letting her know there was no getting out of it and that she was going to have to spill the beans.

“It’s from Blaise,” A look of amusement passed Regulus’s face, making her think that he knew what was in the letter already while Remus looked like he was going to snatch the letter out of her hands and read it himself if she didn’t hurry up.

“And what possibly could it say to have your cheeks looking like the inside of Gryffindor common room?” Regulus teased further.

She coughed trying to get her nerves resealed. “He was saying that we need to catch up before school starts, and invited me to come and stay with him and Mrs. Zabini for a night this week.”

Remus grunted while Regulus smiled. Ali had to hide a giggle as she noticed all the other mouths in the room had dropped to the floor. Ali knew that except for Hermione and Harry the Weasley’s never stayed or had anyone else with them.

“Can I, please? His mother said we would have separate rooms and she will be there as well as the house-elves. We only got to see one another once this summer. He said if I can’t he could come here, but honestly, I think the first option is better. Please?” She pulled out her best puppy eyes and pouty lip. She was not above begging for it but didn’t want to do so with everyone staring at her.

Regulus looked over at Remus. Ali could see the silent conversation going on between them. Regulus’s head inclined slightly toward Ali which she hoped to Merlin was a good thing. Remus looked back at his niece with a look in his eye she couldn’t read. “Rosalynn said you’ll have separate rooms?” Ali nodded her head so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “And you’ll stay in them?” Once again she nodded, although she knew that they more than likely would be in the family room till late hours in the night. He looked back at Regulus, “you have no problems with her going?”

“No, I already knew about it. Rosalynn wrote about two days ago. If she wants to go, that's fine. You know Rosalynn will look after her as she does Blaise. And the Heavens know that boy would jump in front of the Knight Bus for Ali.” Regulus chuckled at Ali's shocked expression.

“Y-you knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” Ali struggled to get the words out.

“Rosalynn said Blaise wanted to ask you. She was just giving me a heads up, knowing how Remus is with boys and you. You know we talked quite often, Als.” Regulus winked at her.

“You may go,” Remus stated. She was shocked she didn’t have to put up more of a fight.

“WHAT?” Sirius shrieked. He knew that Regulus would let her go to the Death Eaters house, but Remus? He thought he could count on his ‘friend’ to at least say no. “You’re letting her go to the Death Eaters house? AGAIN? Who's also a boy and staying the night? Are you mad?”

Remus looked at Sirius with disdain, “No I am not. She is a good girl and Blaise has been her friend for years. Rosalynn loves her as much as we do and would never let anything happen. And for God's sake quit calling everyone a Death Eater.”

“Outrageous.”

“Sirius, you have no say in what she does. You gave that up last night. Ali is a good girl who makes good choices. Not only that but she also deserves a little something since she got Headgirl this year, don’t you think?” Regulus smirked as he saw the Granger girl's face fall.

“You got Headgirl?” Hermione whispered to Ali with disbelief lacing her voice.

“Yeah, I did. Draco got Headboy I believe, but it may be Theo. I haven’t asked yet.”

“Why do you and Draco get Head of Houses? Why not Hermione and -“ Ali cut her dear Godbrother off.

“And who? You? Ron? Why would any of you get Head of Houses with all the trouble you bring in? Sneaking out, stealing things, picking fights. We do have the highest marks in most classes as well as treat others equally unlike the likes of you.”

If looks could kill Ali would be dead three times over. In all honesty, she kinda felt bad for the younger Weasley boy seeing as all of his older brothers, bar Fred and George had been Headboy. But then she thought about the trouble he and his friends had caused her and her friends as well as others over the years. Harry preached about equality among the houses but she had witnessed many times when younger Slytherins were picked on by Gryiffndors. Hufflepuffs generally didn't have any problems with the other houses so long as everyone was being just. Ravenclaws tended to keep to themselves unless it really involved them. Whereas Slytherins preferred to stand up to those picking on other Slytherins especially the younger ones. Slytherins were always made out to be the bullies when in general if you got to know them people would notice that they are a lot more than what their parents used to be.

Ally had heard the stories of how mean James and Sirius were to those in Slytherin even if they never did anything to them. She believed in harmless fun could be had pulling pranks, but tricking someone into going to a place where a werewolf was was downright cruel. She had no doubts in her mind that James and Sirius were once good people like her Uncle Remus is now, but seeing as Sirius still acts like a child those doubts were becoming known.

“I just think that Slytherins shouldn’t be Head of House when all you will do is favor your own, and treat everyone else like dirt,” Ron stated.

“Ronald Weasley! How dare you say such a thing?!” Molly exclaimed.

“It’s alright Mrs. Weasey. I am used to hearing such things come from them and others in their house,” Ali looked Ron in the eyes, “You seem to forget that I’m a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin. I do not favor anyone and will not when I start Head Girl duties but know this. I will give you as many detentions as you deserve if you are caught bullying, harassing, belittling, any of the other houses. You may think that Gryiffndors are the bravest of the houses and maybe you are in some ways, but you are cowardly in others. Maybe some Slytherins are as bad as you make them seem, but Harry,” she turned her head slightly to the side, “you seem to forget just which house Peter Pettigrew was in when he was the one who betrayed your parents. And Regulus was in Slytherin but seems to be more loyal to his friends and family than that rat was.”

“It seems that Alianova has given you all something to think about as you're getting ready for bed,” Molly stated looking at all the children present in the room. Her face grew red when she saw that none of them had moved a muscle. “Now.”

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, jumped from their seats and booked it to the stairs scared of Mrs. Weasley’s wrath. At some point, Charlie, Fluer, and Bill came back from scouting. Charlie ruffled Ali’s hair causing her to grin. “Good job, kid. You’ll make a great Head Girl.” Bill and Fleur nodded in agreement. “Nothing happened while we were out. We’ll give a full debrief tomorrow, but we will be heading to bed as well. Good night everyone.”

Molly walked to Ali and pulled her up out of her chair before placing both hands on Ali’s pale cheeks. “Don’t you worry, dear, I will be talking with all of them in the morning. You made a lot of valid points, and I for one am proud that you are Head Girl.”

She kissed her forehead before taking her husband to go to bed after waving her wand to get the kitchen clean once again. Arthur offered Ali a small smile before disappearing behind his wife. Sirius scoffed at the behavior which everyone heard but chose to ignore.

Ali turned to her three Uncles, waiting for the answer about going to her friends, and the scene that just played out in the kitchen.

“I am proud of you as well, Alianova. You have done excellent, and I know it is Remus and Regulus' decision about going to Blaises’, but I see no problem with it. I will stay in the guest room. Come get me if you need me. Good night, Ali.” He hugged her tightly, making Ali tear up slightly at the thought of Servus being proud of her. It also made her giddy at the thought of rubbing it in Draco’s face since Severus is his Godfather and never said such a thing to him.

Remus followed after Servus, wrapping his niece in a bear hug around her shoulders. The height difference amusing Regulus to no end seeing as Ali only came about midway in Remus’s chest. “You may go as long as it’s okay with Reg, and you stay in separate rooms. I am a little mad though that you didn’t tell me yourself about getting Head Girl, but I am still incredibly proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do, not even Harry.” The last part was whispered in her ear. He kissed her forehead, before heading to his room.

With the three Blacks being the only ones left in the room. “I don’t think you should go.” Sirius’s voice was venomous as he thought about his only child, his legacy, spending time with Death Eaters.

“It’s a good thing it doesn’t matter what you think isn’t it?” Regulus smirked at his older brother. He was not going to take this away from his child. “Ali, you may go so long as you stay in your separate rooms whenever the two of you decide to go to sleep because I know from having all your mates over it will be late.” He walked to Ali cradling her freckled face in his hands. “I am so proud to call you my daughter. Even after all that you have been through in your life you have still managed to form your own beliefs and thoughts as well as stand up for them. You deserve Head Girl over anyone else, and hopefully, you get to share it with one of your friends.”

Ali dove into her Uncle's chest. Tears welling up into her eyes at the thought that he really did think of her as his own even if she already knew it. It was nice to hear out loud. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I love you, dad.” She kissed his cheek before heading to her room to write Blaise.

Sirius felt his anger sore to new heights when he heard Ali call Regulus dad. He had enough courtesy to wait till she was out of earshot before grounding out, “We need to talk, Regulus.”

[bokubonk]

happy anniversary

warnings: angst

content: hurt/comfort, angst

characters: Ushijima x gn!reader

date: 2/14/21

word count: 2.1k+

notes: Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves! Let us celebrate with some angst :)) Also I know I said it would be a few more days until I update but I just couldn’t resist writing this one.

You approached your boyfriend once you saw the boys cleaning up after practice. You had been standing outside, waiting for your boyfriend for the past few hours. It was cold, but you didn’t mind, your excitement to celebrate your one year anniversary with Ushijima kept you warm. 

Your freezing hands were wrapped around his gift: a new volleyball. You saw that the one he had been practicing with was getting worn down from how powerful his spikes were and you wanted to get him a new one, knowing how much the sport meant to him. 

You crept into the gym as quietly as you could, not wanting to bother anyone but you saw some of the team members noticed you and they sent you small smiles after they saw the gift you were hiding behind your back. After all, they remembered that today was the date the two of you got together, their stoic captain and you, who somehow managed to put up with Ushijima’s busy schedule and look after the team like they were your own children.

Tendou and Ushijima were on the other side of the gym and you could see Ushijima being hard on himself as usual. Sweat lined his brow as he continued practicing his spikes, the force echoing throughout the gym.

You winced from how loud it was and as you came closer you locked eyes with Tendou, who waved at you and raised his eyebrows at Ushijima, exclaiming, “Oh? Look who it is, lover boy, your beloved y/n is here!”

Ushijima paused to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed and you were unsure of what to make of his expression. You knew your boyfriend wasn’t one to show emotion but the look he was giving you now wasn’t one that you were expecting, especially since today was your anniversary. 

“Go home, y/n,” he said, “I will be staying late today to practice. You should go home now. It isn’t safe to walk around alone at night.”

Your hopeful expression dropped but you tried your best to keep a smile on your face. He turned away from you and Tendou gave you a sympathetic look. It seemed Ushijima had forgotten what today was but you tried comforting yourself, reminding yourself that he was busy and that he had other priorities in his life just like you did. After all, you were both third years and there were plenty of things to worry about.

But, you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest as you wished that just once, he would put more effort into your relationship. You were beginning to grow used to the ache in your chest from all the neglect you endured after Ushijima continued choosing volleyball over your dates. 

He would schedule last minute practices and leave you waiting for hours at the restaurants or the parks he promised to meet you at. You should be used to it by now, but you couldn’t help but hold onto the hope that he would change. 

You believed in his promises and even when he broke them, you told yourself it was okay, because you loved him and because he loved you, even if it didn’t seem that way sometimes.

Your cold hands clenched around his gift, the weight of the volleyball growing heavier as the seconds passed by and the lump in your throat grew. 

“Wakatoshi, I-,” you began, but he cut you off. “I do not have the time right now, y/n.”

“I need to perfect this.”

You moved your gaze away from him and stared at the ground, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You could feel the pitying gazes of the other team members as they looked at you and you hated how small you felt. 

Today was supposed to be a happy day so where did it all go wrong? What did you do to deserve being treated like this?

“But today is-,” you tried once again, your tears forcing your voice to a whisper.

“You are bothering me,” he interjected, harshly, “I am sure what you have to tell me can wait.”

You gave a small nod and began making your way out of the gym. Footsteps followed after you and for a second, you hoped it was Ushijima but when you heard a voice call your name, you felt the familiar taste of bitter disappointment. 

“Y/n, he’s just having a bad day,” Tendou consoled, his eyes widening when he saw your tear-stained cheeks. “You know he didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled, one that clearly didn’t reach your eyes from how the frown on Tendou’s face deepened. You used the sleeves of your thin jacket to wipe away your tears before extending the gift in your hand. 

“Give it to him for me, will you?” you murmured weakly, “Make sure he doesn’t practice too late and don’t let him overexert himself.”

“No, y/n,” Tendou shook his head. “You should give it to him yourself. I’ll go grab him right now and tell him to walk you home.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, “I’m not in the mood to celebrate anyway. I just came to drop off his gift.”

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he frowned, his anger rising as more tears fell from your eyes. He knew how much you were looking forward to celebrating your anniversary and he felt terrible at how you were being treated by Ushijima. He wasn’t blind to all of the sacrifices you made for him and he knew it was time Ushijima stopped taking you for granted. 

“Good night, Tendou.”

The walk home was cold and lonely and you only felt worse when you woke up the next morning with a fever. But you were comforted by all the messages from Tendou and the other members asking how you were doing and interrogating you. They were seconds away from going over to your house because of your lack of response when you assured them you were doing fine and sent them a picture of yourself in bed, saying you had a fever.

Even with the group chat blowing up, there was still no response from Ushijima and you wondered if he just didn’t care. 

Your thoughts were swarmed with insecurities and before you knew it, you were sobbing into your pillow. 

Does he even love me?

You tried remembering a time where he actually said those three words, but you found you couldn’t. A year of dating and “I love you” never escaped his lips. A year of being treated like a second choice. A year of putting his feelings first and getting your heart stomped on.

You were tired and you didn’t know how much longer this cycle of disappointment could go on. 

You were torn out of your thoughts when you heard the front door open and the low murmur of voices before heavy footsteps began approaching your room. You pulled the covers over your head, hiding your messy hair and your swollen face. 

The door creaked as it opened and you peeked through the small opening of the blanket, your mouth dropping in surprise when you saw a large figure standing in your bedroom.

“Ushijima?” you questioned, sitting up abruptly before wincing at your nausea caused by the sudden movement.

He stopped examining all the photos in your room and turned around to face you, his eyes widening when he saw your red-rimmed eyes. He barely registered the fact that you called him by his last name and not his first, his main focus was what made you cry. 

“What’s wrong, y/n?” he asked, worry clearly written on his face. “Why are you crying?”

“Why are you here, Ushijima?” you asked instead, bringing your gaze to your fidgeting fingers, a habit you did when you were nervous.

“You are sick so I brought medicine and food to help you recover,” his eyebrows furrowed at your question and the lack of excitement in your tone when before, you always greeted him with a smile. It was one of his favorite things about you and he was beginning to miss it. 

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine. You can just leave the medicine and go. I wouldn’t want to interfere with your practice,” your tone was harsh and left no room for argument. 

You were angry, Ushijima finally realized. The hurt expression on your face wasn’t one he was used to and he didn’t know how to fix it. His heart shattered as your chin began to tremble and tears trailed down your cheeks. 

He remembered the harsh words he gave you and the fact that he made you walk home alone and he opened his mouth to apologize when he heard you whisper, “Do you even remember what day it was yesterday?”

His silence answered your question and you let out a bitter laugh, sliding back under the covers and turning away from him. “Just go away, Ushijima.”

“Please,” your voice cracked as you held back a sob. 

He stared at your shaking form, a frown tugging at his lips but he listened to you words and exited your room, the door letting a resounding click as it closed.

Despite your words, you hoped he would stay but you figured this was just another disappointment to add to the list. The thought only made you cry more and Ushijima listened just on the other side of the door, wondering what he could do to fix this.

You wondered if this was the end of your relationship and after an hour of crying, you finally fell asleep. By the time you woke up, daylight had faded and your room was now shrouded in darkness. 

You were creeped out by how silent the house was but you figured it was time to get out of bed and get something to eat. You walked downstairs and heard the shuffling of footsteps. 

“Mom?” you called out, now a little nervous that an intruder had somehow gotten in while you were sleeping. 

You tiptoed your way into the living room, only for a scream to lodge itself in your throat as the lights suddenly flickered on. Ushijima stood there in a suit with a cake in his hands. 

“Ushijima?” you gasped, “What are you doing here?”

He placed the cake on a table nearby and walked towards you, cupping your cheeks in between his large hands. You were too surprised to react, still shocked by the fact that he was still here and he hadn’t left. 

“I am sorry, y/n,” he said, his voice soft as he struggled to convey his feelings. “You mean so much to me and I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t mean to forget our anniversary.”

You came to your senses once you heard his words and you stepped back, letting his hands fall from your face. 

“It’s not just that, Ushijima,” you whispered, “I’m just tired. I’m tired of always being a second choice to volleyball and always putting in all the effort only to receive none in return.”

He thought of all the times he rescheduled your dates or came late because he chose to spend more time practicing and guilt washed over him. Ushijima never realized just how much you did for him. He was blind to your suffering and now he was facing the consequences.

“I will be better,” he promised. There was no hint of hesitation in his voice. He truly meant it and you could feel your walls slowly crumbling once again. “I will be someone who is worthy of you. Just give me a second chance to prove my love to you.”

Your breath caught and time stumbled.

“You love me?”

You didn’t expect him to confess and now that he had, you were completely powerless to stopping yourself from falling for him once again. The ache in your chest was replaced with warmth and you found the smallest of smiles forming on your lips.

“I always have,” he replied, reaching up to rub a thumb across your cheekbone. He leaned down to kiss your forehead before touching his lips to your eyelids. His face was centimeters away from yours when he pulled back, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded and he pulled you closer. The both of you missed each other and the kiss was soft but desperate. You could feel the familiar butterflies making themselves known as he pulled away and gave you one of his rare smiles, the one he only gave you. “Happy belated anniversary, my love.”

“Happy anniversary, Wakatoshi.”

[littlemissnoname13]

The life he always wanted (D.M.)

Summary: Draco’s life after the battle of Hogwarts

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!reader

A/n: I wrote a multi-chapter a few months ago that never made it on here. This one shot has been pulled out of it and posted as a one shot just like “You and your green apples.” Which was supposed to be a part of that same multi chapter too.

Warnings: angst, Multiple mentions of avada and death so please read at your own discretion. Also please feel free to message me if I need to add any more disclaimers.

Word count: 2100+

The only thing illuminating the dark room was the flickering light from the television. 

Draco thought the muggles had really outdone themselves with that one as he had spent one too many nights in front of the television with a bottle of fire whisky.

Some nights he’d be too wasted to realise he’d been watching static for hours. 

Faint, fuzzy music could be heard all around the room even though the volume was set to a minimum and Draco took this opportunity to waltz you across the living room of your cozy one bedroom home. 

The house wasn’t too big but it was just the way you’d always wanted it to be—big glass windows, hardwood floors and a small spiral staircase leading to the roof. 

“The life we’ve always wanted.” You sighed and placed your head on his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Draco.” 

One of his hands was placed securely on the small of your back while the other held your hand as you moved together with the music. Your soft, flowy hair bounced as he twirled you in his arms. 

“Oh really?” He smirked and watched you nod your head in response with a sad look in your eyes. 

“Yes really.” 

“Well I’m here now Darling so there’s no need to worry about all that.” He whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that don’t you?”

“I know Draco.” You whispered and he pulled you closer to him. “I know.”

Draco couldn’t begin to imagine what his life would be life without you in it. 

Shuddering at the dark clouds forming at the top of his blond head, he closed his eyes and inhaled sharply to make the clouds drift away. 

“Don’t you have to be somewhere tomorrow?” You asked tilting your head upwards to look at him. Draco noticed that your eyes brows crinkled a little as you said this—the look of worry somewhat prominent. 

“Oh yes.” He sighed, rolling his eyes at you. “I really wish you didn’t remind me.” 

“But you haven’t met our friends in so long.” 

“Your friends. ”He corrected you curtly. “And it’s only been a few months.” 

Well, it had been more than just a few months but It wasn’t his fault that he’d rather spend all his time with you. 

Draco noticed that you giggled when he said that as if you knew before taking his hand and guiding him towards the bedroom. 

He decided to not utter a single word of protest as he quietly followed you into the bedroom. 

“Come lie with me, Dray.” You whispered as he watched you slip under the covers. You looked so peaceful, so content and the whole moment seemed so fickle like it would fade away if he moved too quickly or blinked too hard. 

He hastily removed his shirt slipping under the covers next to you—his head on your chest as you lazily played with his hair. 

This was everything he’d ever wanted. 

“I love you y/n.” 

“I love you too.” 

~~~~~~~

“Glad you came, Malfoy.” Ginny smiled the best smile she could smile, opening the door to let him in the house.

“Well hello to you too Weaslette.” 

“Come on inside. We were all waiting for you.” Ginny said she led the way towards the living room filled with familiar voices and faces. 

“Potter. Weasel. Granger.” Draco muttered as he gave all three a semi polite nod of acknowledgement. 

“I uh—like your hair.” Harry commented looking at Draco’s unkempt blond hair now growing towards his shoulders. 

Upon hearing Harry, Draco ran his fingers through his hair and fought an urge to say something snarky. 

“So, may I ask why I’ve been summoned here?” Draco finally said as he sat down on an armchair opposite to Harry. 

“We just wanted to see you. You have been gone for a…bit...” Harry replied, clearing his throat. And we thought you might want this.” 

Draco raised his eyebrows suspiciously as Harry stretched out his hand to hand him a sealed envelope. 

“Cup of tea?” Ginny asked. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

As soon as he reached home, he tore his clothes off and jumped into the shower. 

He let the warm water wash away the ache he felt all over his body. There was no tell tale sign indicating the pain was physical or emotional. 

Nonetheless, the warmth of the water helped. 

To some extent. 

After what felt like hours in the shower, he finally stepped outside and wrapped a towel around his torso. 

The bathroom had fogged up and the fog had travelled all the way into the bedroom. 

In an attempt to get the fog to disappear, Draco cracked the surprisingly large bedroom window open and let the crisp night air flow into the room. 

“Someone’s back home early.” He heard you  mock in a sweet singsong voice making the tiniest of smiles appear at his lips as he turned around to face you. 

You were wearing a flowy satin dress and were perched on the top of his desk—dangling your legs. 

He paused to admire and remember every detail about the sight in front of him. 

The way the gust of wind coming from the window blew your hair towards your face. The way that flimsy satin fabric hugged your body. The way the flickering table lamp casted shadows on your features. 

Everything.

“I just couldn’t stay away from you.” He shrugged and watched you chuckle and get down from his desk. 

He patiently waited as you took long strides towards him before finally wrapping your arms around his neck—stretching on the tip of your toes and bringing your face close to his. 

“Open the envelope Draco.” You whispered softly into his ears. 

A flash of lightning lit up the entire room with a blinding white light as the sky roared. 

Draco nodded as he slowly reached for the crumpled envelope he’d left inside his coat pocket.

Taking a long breath, he looked up at you and you gave him an apologetic yet reassuring smile while he ripped the envelope open.

The opened seal of the envelope brought along with it, a familiar scent of cedarwood and vanilla. It was the smell he could smell on his clothes after spending the day with you. 

A small photograph fell out of the envelope.

It was a Polaroid you’d unintentionally taken one summer. Both of you had questionable expressions on your faces because you were both trying to get the Camera to work. 

You were chewing your lip in confusion and his nose was scrunched up; you both were not ready for the photo at all. 

His hands shook violently as sporadic rain drops started to pour down from the window leaving tiny splatters on the worn out photograph.

“Why?” He spat in anger. “Why did you have to throw yourself between me and that killing curse?” 

You smiled an apologetic smile at him once again; you did that a lot. 

“You’ll get drenched Draco—close the window.” You said,  dodging his question completely while you reached towards his hand again.

“Stop dodging my question.” 

“It hadn’t rained for a while.” You said making him heave a sigh and look up at the night sky.

One rain drop and become two and two had become three.

Draco took a wobbly step towards you and fruitlessly wiped the drops of rain that were falling on your cheeks. 

“And now it’s raining.” He pointed out with his voice shaky. 

“Excellent observation, my love.” 

The way you said it, the nonchalance in your voice made him furious. You were gone but he had to wake up every single day in a world where you no longer existed. 

In a stupor of grief, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you towards him. “Don’t you see?— even the sky is grieving the loss of what could have been! The life we could have lived!” 

“I like to think it’s the universe washing away the hurt and pain.” You whispered, staring deeply into his steely eyes. “You’ll see. It’s going to be a beautiful morning tomorrow. I can feel it.” 

“Why y/n? Why didn't you let me die instead?—you are gone and what am I left with? A worn out photograph of you?!” 

“Draco—”

“Every damned day, I feel further and further away from you.” He began sobbing. “The smell of your perfume is fading from my sweater, I cannot picture the way you used to laugh anymore—for the love of Merlin! I don’t even remember what life was like when you were with me y/n. It all seems so far away..so distant.”

“You have to let me go, Draco.” You whispered as you pressed your forehead to his. 

He physically felt the pain of his breaking heart all over his body. The sharp pain brought back all the trauma he had suppressed over the last few months. 

“No…No. No. No—Please don’t leave again.” He pleaded as angry tears started to roll down his cheeks. “Please. I—I don’t think I can handle it.” 

“You’ll see me again. I swear.” You said softly as he began to laugh an ominous kind of laugh, knowing deep down that you weren’t even there in front of him to begin with.

Everything was all in his head. 

Twenty seven months.

He’d been talking to the voice in his head for twenty seven whole months while the world moved on without him. 

“When? When will I see you again? In another life? Merlin!” Draco said in between his hysterical laughter. 

“Maybe.” The figment of his imagination whispered caressing the side of his face till he calmed down. “Maybe in another life I won’t find myself having to jump in between you and the killing curse.” 

Draco gave you a disapproving glare before he leaned down to find your rain soaked lips. 

With his index finger and thumb holding your chin up, Draco kissed you gently while his own tears and the acidic grey rain continued trickle down his face. 

It took him every ounce of strength he had left but he nodded like he was saying his final goodbye and took a step back— releasing you from his embrace and releasing him from his grief. 

You slowly turned on your heel and walked towards the door. 

“I’ll be waiting for you Draco.” 

He closed his eyes because he wasn’t ready to see you leave. 

So after what felt like centuries, Draco slowly opened his eyes. 

He was all alone. 

~~~~🍂🍁🍂~~~~

Autumn. 

It could be seen in the rustling trees and the gust of wind that made the amber colored leaves that were once bright green fall down onto a winding pathway beneath trees. 

A young woman strided along the winding path. Clicking her heels. Head tilted upwards, taking in the pinkish purple sky in all of its glory. 

A few books were tucked underneath her arm and a cloth bag loosely hung on her left shoulder. 

She was so occupied by the pleasant weather and whatever thoughts were circling her head, that she didn’t even realise that she had collided with somebody.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

She apologised profusely before she knelt down on the ground to collect the books she’d dropped. 

The stranger hummed in response and helped her gather the contents that had fallen out of her book bag. 

An oddly familiar smell tickled her senses. It was the smell of cologne and fresh mint. 

The smell of the cologne was so foreign to her. It was like nothing she’d ever smelled before and yet, she found herself feeling awfully comforted by it.

The smell sent her into a state of déjà vu. 

She looked up through her lashes and saw a boy with steely grey eyes making an eerie sense of familiarity washed all over her body. 

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” 

The boy blinked a few times before cracking a small smile. “I think we’re in the same Art history class. Judging by where you’re headed.” 

“Right.” She nodded as they slowly walked down the path together. “Don’t mind me. It’s just.. it’s just that you seem oddly familiar to me.” 

He shoved his hands into his pocket as they quietly walked next to each other. The silence wasn’t an awkward one. 

Not for him at least. 

It felt almost as if they’d always been walking together for years—in another timeline, in another life.

It all felt habitual. 

“Tell you what? He finally said looking down at the girl he’d just met. “How about we get coffee after class and discuss this further. You seem oddly familiar to me too.” 

“I’d like that.”

Her eyes pierced a million daggers into his heart.

“I’d like that a lot.” 

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

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Love you all,

Vi

[nobodysdaydreams]

Thank you Sophie! 🥰 As a reward for finished (some) of my work, I am going to read and respond to your wonderful comments on one of the final installments of my grand manifesto. 💕

"BODS THE TITLE IS SCARING ME"

^Good. That was the idea :) And I'm glad you like the secrecy vibe too, there's a lot of characters with conflicting motivations, and having your arch nemesis living in your home, as family, is a rather uneasy peace to establish. So it's also a bit awkward.

I'm also glad you love the way that the children react to him. Constance trying to scare him, Reynie being awkwardly polite, and Kate watching him, hand on her bucket, ready to jump into action the second he tries hatching another evil plan. (Not committing to a sequel but if I did, oh boy would that be fun to write. Poor Nathaniel indeed :)).

I'm glad you like the way I talk about Nathaniel's name. It is a little weird to think of "Ledroptha Curtain" the big bad villain just being some guy named Nate. And I think Kate's nickname for her uncle fits him well.

"I’m very pleased that Constance is the one to reveal Curtain’s full name"

^Me too. Nathaniel's punishment is a lifetime of being affectionately bullied by his niece.

"Sticky’s aunt!! I love her so much, you don’t even understand. I was so hugely upset by how the Show changed things, but you’ve turned that all around and now she’s one of my favorite background characters in your story."

^I'm so happy you like Sticky's aunt! I should try to write more stuff with her. Sticky deserve to reconcile with his family too.

“He sleeps, he eats, he takes up space,” said Constance. “And he cleans. A lot. Obsessively. It’s concerning and confirms what we already knew. The man has serious mental problems.” / I don’t know how you positively nail each character voice every time!! It’s so impressive, and I love when certain lines stick out in my head because I feel I can hear them being said &lt;3

^It's easier with the show characters because I actually hear their voices out loud and the way the actors move and talk. But I'm glad you like the way I do it.

Oh, yes and Kate's house! The Wetherall home. I plan on doing some more with that if possible, but it's sad that Kate and Milligan's backstory wasn't explored more.

I'm glad you like how forgiving Miss. Perumal and Rhonda are. They might still be angry at Nathaniel (for good reason), but they also understand that people make mistakes and that this is the best way to move forward.

And I agree; I love the photo albums. A physical example of the evidence, pain, and memories that Nathaniel is still scrambling to hide but can't bring himself to destroy. :)

"I AM NEVER GOING TO STOP BEING UPSET THAT HE WON’T TALK ABOUT HOW CLOSE HE WAS WITH THE WETHERALLS / BODS YOUR FLOORBOARDS ARE MINE"

^Take them. It's fine. And of course he can't talk about it. He feels guilty. Imagine if you got blinded by your own fear and trauma so badly that you destroyed your friend's memories and separated him from his only child for ten years. He believes he has no right to talk about their friendship or acknowledge it ever existed, even though it's killing him.

"NATHANIEL. I get that you two are different in some ways, but. YOU’RE IDENTICAL TWINS??? SAYING SQ LOOKS MORE LIKE NICHOLAS ISN’T THAT BIG OF A DIFFERENCE?? / Of course, it’s not his exact physical appearance that Nathaniel’s talking about, it’s more the fact that he feels too guilty and undeserving to be associated with his son. Because nothing is ever simple with this man"

^Nathaniel's relationships with everyone are so gosh dang complicated. It wish we could have seen redeemed Nathaniel in action. The interactions he would have had with the kids would have been hilarious.

"I love when Miss Perumal gets to talk about parenting with Nathaniel, it’s so interesting. I don’t know, because I don’t have kids, but to me it seems like you’re doing a really good job writing about it, Bods."

^I don't have kids either. But I'm closer to that stage than most. And I've talked to others who are parents about parenting, whether they have adult kids or young ones, and a lot of that has gone into informing this fic, especially when write about as Nathaniel so eloquently put it in season 1 "the parent child dynamic".

"Poor Number Two. She’s right, even though no one knows it yet. There is something suspicious going on :( "

^Indeed. Nathaniel isn't exactly well-versed in the art of stealth. No wonder he stayed hidden for years, the first thing he did when he decided to make his name and face public was become a reality tv star and world wide celebrity. He's too prideful for his own good.

"Garrison mention!! Garrison would probably like to stay as far away from this mess as possible, but of course they aren’t going to let her do that"

^Correct. *I* won't let her do that. Garrison is going to go on a journey, whether she wants to or not.

"And naturally the thing that Nicholas fixes on is correcting his brother that Constance is his “roommate”. Not the ridiculousness of anything else in the statement"

^Yes. Priorities.

"Oh no. I’ve read the sad, sad tale of Puddles the duckling, like, three times now. We’re skipping it"

^I'm sorry. It makes me sad too. It also makes me think of Jacobi.

"Kate! Kate popping out of vents is the best thing, and I love how you set it up here. I can just see it in my brain / Nooooooooo / Bods I am gnawing on all of your pens until they are beyond repair. This part guts me every time /I love when we get a giant brick of Nathaniel dialogue because he’s explaining something. It’s very good"

^Haha...yes. Nathaniel's guilt over what he did to the Wetheralls. The fact that he WAS Kate's uncle for a time (and technically still is) and did care about her (and technically still does even though he hurt her a lot).

"AND THIS IS THE PART WHERE IT ALL GOES SOUTH / I genuinely gasped and put a hand over my mouth when I first read this"

^That's the goal with all my twists. And oh...this was a big one. :)

"I’ve been thinking about Nerissa and her outbursts a lot, and I have so many questions about how her powers work… / I think SQ’s mind would be a forest"

I think so too. And don't worry about the psychic powers. I have plans for those :)

"I know Nerissa has not the best of intentions, but ever since she got introduced all I want is to give her a hug. I think she needs it"

^Oh she does. She really really does. And...oh Nerissa is so complicated. Her intentions are...well-intentioned. Her methods of doing things and her ability to think clearly and free of trauma is much more questionable.

"Now we get to see Nerissa’s plans from her point of view! I always love how you explain stuff via multiple different characters, it makes it really interesting and it somehow doesn’t ever come across as boring or talked about too much" / "Although it makes me wonder how many fake identities she has…"

^Haha...just the two for now. And I'm glad you like the POV changes, I was hoping it wouldn't be confusing or too much.

“The boy is eighteen Natty, I’m sure he doesn’t need or want you constantly helicopter parenting him like this” /As if she is not also doing the exact same (And arguably worse)

^Don't worry. You'll see more of Nerissa's parenting later. SQ is just her nephew that she's taken in as a houseguest, but she's not trying to parent him. Just win him over so they can have a good relationship.

“his whole…team of genius minds and trained fighters” /Ah, yes. Nicholas, his adopted family and friends, and some children. Obviously an impossible number of enemies /s

^I love how Nathaniel is like "my brother's team. His loyal associates. Trained fighters. Dangerous characters. Can't be too careful" and it's. I mean. They're children. Children younger than his college age son. 😂

"Erika! She is somehow STILL not getting paid enough for this. Let her go do something else, like be a National Park ranger. I’m sure she’d love it"

^Oh the minute Curtain was like "you guys are free to go" she was gone.

And the slip back into having the narrative refer to him as Curtain!! I get all excited every time you do that, no matter how many times it’s been now /“He had expected to see anger in his SQ’s eyes at having secrets kept from him” /I’m burning your house down

^A) that escalated quickly and B) the whole dang apartment complex? Sophie, the other tenants had nothing to do with this!

"Curtain’s just running on frantic autopilot and it’s only making things worse. I know this is, like, the third POV for this scene and maybe the fifth time I’ve read it, but still. I am taking some scissors to your window drapes"

^How are you gonna take scissor to my drapes AFTER you burn down my house? It's all ash now. /lh /j

"“And to think, when I was a kid, I looked at you like you were my hero, I thought you were brilliant, I used to dream about being like you! And now, I’ve been putting up with everything you do, all the times you ignored me, filled your schedule with work, got stressed over some mundane detail, and acted like a complete control freak, all because I thought you were doing it because you actually cared about someone other than yourself.” / AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH// Bods. Bods you need to chill on occasion. Seriously, I don’t know how much more of this my heart can take, and I already know what’s going to happen!!  / I Am Foaming At The Mouth / AND ONCE AGAIN CURTAIN’S SELF-DEPRECATING, GUILTY, OVERLY RIDICULOUS MENTALITY GETS IN THE WAY. AGAIN. / If he could take a step back and, I don’t know, go to therapy????? Then maybe he’d be able to have this conversation with his son. BUT NOOOOOOOOOO. IT’S EVIL PLANS THIS AND MIND ERASURE THAT. SO HEALTHY THERE, LEDROPTHA. NICE JOB /s"

^I'm sorry for just copying all this, but in answer to your question: no. I will never chill. Not when you keep giving me such lovely reactions. And yeah, Nathaniel needs so serious therapy and he's not the only one...

"“You’d think that after all those losses he’d be used it to by now” / I Am Screeching At A Tone To Shatter All Your Glass"

^Again. Sophie. There is no glass, you burnt down the whole apartment complex. /j /lh

"AND GARRISON. GARRISON DOESN’T KNOW. HOW COULD SHE? BUT SHE STILL UNDERSTANDS THE ENORMITY OF SWEEPING SQ. AND SHE’S STILL HORRIFIED."

^The amount of stuff that Garrison has gone through, and the amount of personal moral and ethical lines she's crossed...and when you find out why...oh she really has suffered the most.

"“Please Dad. Don’t do this. I love you. I’ll do whatever you ask, and I’ll…I’ll stay. I won’t leave. I’ll stay here with you, forever. I’ll be good. I promise.” /This is always one of the worst parts for me…"

^Me too. SQ begging for his dad's love. 🥺 Especially in light of the passages where Curtain and little/baby SQ did have good moments...

"“She supposed death wouldn’t be so bad. Garrison knew she deserved it, and she wasn’t entirely sure how she would even be able to keep living with herself after all she’d done. / But she still feared the pain.” / Someone PLEASE help this woman /Curtain hugging her… But it doesn’t do either of them any good…"

^Yep. The friendship is gone now. It's mostly a sham. He can't comfort her no matter how much he wants to.

"AND CURTAIN CAN’T BRAINSWEEP HIMSELF BECAUSE HE FEELS LIKE HE HAS TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL THE THINGS HE’S DONE. HE HAS BLOCKED OFF EVERY OPTION FOR HIMSELF /Oh dear, I just keep rereading the last bits instead of commenting. Please know they are just as amazing as everything else, but I don’t have any words for any of it…"

^Don't apologize, this whole thing is fantastic to read.

"Poor Nathaniel has been locked into a truly impossible task, and Nerissa certainly isn’t helping. Although, I must say that her dialogue can be pretty funny /“I really think you’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be. Nicky has never struck me as a particularly difficult person to kidnap. One bad pun is enough to knock him out. Just tell a clever joke, wait for him to pass out, and shove him into a sack.”"

^Nerissa is amazing. I love her, I love her dialogue, and she's hilarious.

"“Nathaniel had tried to think of other solutions. Really, he did. But although he knew that Nicholas would willingly give himself up at the word that his nephew, or that anyone really, was in danger” / Man, you really are so good at balancing humour with drama"

^I'm glad you think so! My brain loves the crangst.

Thank you for this amazing reaction, Sophie! I hope to give you some more fics soon, and I hope you have a fantastic day!

@nobodysdaydreams Here you go

Chapter 28

BODS THE TITLE IS SCARING ME

This part really feels like TPD, with all the planning and secrecy

Ajdsdjfk Constance just staring at him really intently to freak him out

Poor Nathaniel

“It was rather unsettling, though being physically assaulted by one of the children was a much less frightening concept to Nathaniel than the possibility of having his mind read.”

Yeah, unfortunately that tracks

Reynie being all polite is very cute, though. And then there’s Kate, who is on the defensive every time

“Like he’s just some guy named Nathaniel now?”

Kate and the importance of names again! I need to write another analysis about that

And of course her lovely nickname suggestion

Yeah, Reynie!! The “L” stands for “Le”! It’s weird, right?

I’m very pleased that Constance is the one to reveal Curtain’s full name

Sticky’s aunt!! I love her so much, you don’t even understand. I was so hugely upset by how the Show changed things, but you’ve turned that all around and now she’s one of my favourite background characters in your story.

“He sleeps, he eats, he takes up space,” said Constance. “And he cleans. A lot. Obsessively. It’s concerning and confirms what we already knew. The man has serious mental problems.”

I don’t know how you positively nail each character voice every time!! It’s so impressive, and I love when certain lines stick out in my head because I feel I can hear them being said <3

Kate’s house!! Such a good plot point, so full of memories and emotion

Marcus! Marcus is so sweet. I’m really glad that you talked more about him, Sticky deserves to have good friends

Miss Perumal and Rhonda! A very good team. (And possibly the most forgiving out of the grownups, besides Mr. Benedict of course)

Ooohhhhhh. SQ photo album…

I AM NEVER GOING TO STOP BEING UPSET THAT HE WON’T TALK ABOUT HOW CLOSE HE WAS WITH THE WETHERALLS

BODS YOUR FLOORBOARDS ARE MINE

NATHANIEL. I get that you two are different in some ways, but. YOU’RE IDENTICAL TWINS??? SAYING SQ LOOKS MORE LIKE NICHOLAS ISN’T THAT BIG OF A DIFFERENCE??

Of course, it’s not his exact physical appearance that Nathaniel’s talking about, it’s more the fact that he feels too guilty and undeserving to be associated with his son. Because nothing is ever simple with this man

I love when Miss Perumal gets to talk about parenting with Nathaniel, it’s so interesting. I don’t know, because I don’t have kids, but to me it seems like you’re doing a really good job writing about it, Bods

Poor Number Two. She’s right, even though no one knows it yet. There is something suspicious going on :( 

Garrison mention!! Garrison would probably like to stay as far away from this mess as possible, but of course they aren’t going to let her do that

And naturally the thing that Nicholas fixes on is correcting his brother that Constance is his “roommate”. Not the ridiculousness of anything else in the statement

I like how you use the verb “comforted” often, it gives a really good note on the tone of the situation and how the dialogue is being said

Oh no. I’ve read the sad, sad tale of Puddles the duckling, like, three times now. We’re skipping it

Kate! Kate popping out of vents is the best thing, and I love how you set it up here. I can just see it in my brain

Nooooooooo

Bods I am gnawing on all of your pens until they are beyond repair. This part guts me every time

I love when we get a giant brick of Nathaniel dialogue because he’s explaining something. It’s very good

AND THIS IS THE PART WHERE IT ALL GOES SOUTH

I genuinely gasped and put a hand over my mouth when I first read this

I’ve been thinking about Nerissa and her outbursts a lot, and I have so many questions about how her powers work…

I think SQ’s mind would be a forest

I know Nerissa has not the best of intentions, but ever since she got introduced all I want is to give her a hug. I think she needs it

Now we get to see Nerissa’s plans from her point of view! I always love how you explain stuff via multiple different characters, it makes it really interesting and it somehow doesn’t ever come across as boring or talked about too much

Although it makes me wonder how many fake identities she has…

“The boy is eighteen Natty, I’m sure he doesn’t need or want you constantly helicopter parenting him like this”

As if she is not also doing the exact same (And arguably worse)

“his whole…team of genius minds and trained fighters”

Ah, yes. Nicholas, his adopted family and friends, and some children. Obviously an impossible number of enemies /s

Erika! She is somehow STILL not getting paid enough for this. Let her go do something else, like be a National Park ranger. I’m sure she’d love it

And the slip back into having the narrative refer to him as Curtain!! I get all excited every time you do that, no matter how many times it’s been now

“He had expected to see anger in his SQ’s eyes at having secrets kept from him”

I’m burning your house down

Curtain’s just running on frantic autopilot and it’s only making things worse. I know this is, like, the third POV for this scene and maybe the fifth time I’ve read it, but still. I am taking some scissors to your window drapes

“And to think, when I was a kid, I looked at you like you were my hero, I thought you were brilliant, I used to dream about being like you! And now, I’ve been putting up with everything you do, all the times you ignored me, filled your schedule with work, got stressed over some mundane detail, and acted like a complete control freak, all because I thought you were doing it because you actually cared about someone other than yourself.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Bods. Bods you need to chill on occasion. Seriously, I don’t know how much more of this my heart can take, and I already know what’s going to happen!! 

I Am Foaming At The Mouth

AND ONCE AGAIN CURTAIN’S SELF-DEPRECATING, GUILTY, OVERLY RIDICULOUS MENTALITY GETS IN THE WAY. AGAIN.

If he could take a step back and, I don’t know, go to therapy????? Then maybe he’d be able to have this conversation with his son. BUT NOOOOOOOOOO. IT’S EVIL PLANS THIS AND MIND ERASURE THAT. SO HEALTHY THERE, LEDROPTHA. NICE JOB /s

“You’d think that after all those losses he’d be used it to by now”

I Am Screeching At A Tone To Shatter All Your Glass

AND GARRISON. GARRISON DOESN’T KNOW. HOW COULD SHE? BUT SHE STILL UNDERSTANDS THE ENORMITY OF SWEEPING SQ. AND SHE’S STILL HORRIFIED.

“Please Dad. Don’t do this. I love you. I’ll do whatever you ask, and I’ll…I’ll stay. I won’t leave. I’ll stay here with you, forever. I’ll be good. I promise.”

This is always one of the worst parts for me…

“She supposed death wouldn’t be so bad. Garrison knew she deserved it, and she wasn’t entirely sure how she would even be able to keep living with herself after all she’d done. / But she still feared the pain.”

Someone PLEASE help this woman

Curtain hugging her… But it doesn’t do either of them any good…

AND CURTAIN CAN’T BRAINSWEEP HIMSELF BECAUSE HE FEELS LIKE HE HAS TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL THE THINGS HE’S DONE. HE HAS BLOCKED OFF EVERY OPTION FOR HIMSELF

Oh dear, I just keep rereading the last bits instead of commenting. Please know they are just as amazing as everything else, but I don’t have any words for any of it…

Poor Nathaniel has been locked into a truly impossible task, and Nerissa certainly isn’t helping. Although, I must say that her dialogue can be pretty funny

“I really think you’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be. Nicky has never struck me as a particularly difficult person to kidnap. One bad pun is enough to knock him out. Just tell a clever joke, wait for him to pass out, and shove him into a sack.”

“Nathaniel had tried to think of other solutions. Really, he did. But although he knew that Nicholas would willingly give himself up at the word that his nephew, or that anyone really, was in danger”

Man, you really are so good at balancing humour with drama

[bookishofalder]

I’ll just leave it at I love you

Summary: In which Hotch and the reader are holed up in a safe house to avoid a killer set on destroying the BAU. A tale of smut, because what else happens when two consenting adults are fighting their feelings, then get stuck in a house together?

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, female reader, domHotch, PIV, virginReader, oral sex, mildly rough, language. WC-3500

A/N: I have crushes on fictional men and I'm not afraid to take that energy and create shit like this for the hell of it! Edited but feedback appreciated.

Hotch was restless, his shower had done nothing to help him relax. He stood in the kitchen, staring into the fridge as if it would give him the answers he needed. He wished he could go for a run, let off some steam. His pent-up energy, this cottage, (Y/N) being so close-it was all too much. The lines of professionalism were bound to blur, but he felt as if they were so far gone in the dust, he couldn’t see them anymore, not in his mind.

Their argument that afternoon had been like a match being lit within a gas station. It had heated up too quickly and then burned away, leaving them both feeling angry and dejected. And she had been right that Hotch was being overprotective, but it didn’t mean the problem would go away, and to just let her go back to DC would only end up in her being hurt, or worse.

He wanted this purgatory to end just as much as (Y/N) did.  He longed to be back with his son.  And with the team, solving cases. But none of them could do that until the killer was found, and Hotch had no control outside of this cottage.

As thoughts of his control, or the lack thereof, came to mind, he slammed the fridge shut in frustration and sighed. (Y/N) had been challenging him since the moment they set foot in this place, which he could understand. There was no one else, and therefore she took out her anger and fear on him.

He could handle that, he had thought at first.

When she yelled that she should leave, go home, and then offered to be the bait to lure the killer out, Hotch had felt something inside of him snap. The final tethers of his patience and sanity disintegrating. The team were in this together, all making sacrifices to protect (Y/N) because she had been the one receiving the death threats and mysterious packages. She had been the one whose photos were displayed on the walls of the crime scene in DC, a clear message-(Y/N) was the target.

So why was she so determined to leave and put herself in danger?

He was leaning against the counter, his hands gripping the edges. The sound of her soft footsteps approaching alerted him to her presence. Hotch opened his eyes, meeting hers directly. She was standing next to the island, biting her lip and looking at him with dark eyes, her arms wrapped around her middle protectively. She still looked angry. Hotch just stared back at her and waited for her to speak.

“I...” She frowned, “I’m not apologizing.” (Y/N) said stubbornly, making him tense, furious. But he refused to respond, he simply glared at her. He was not going to fight again now, it wouldn’t do either of them any good.

But she stepped into the kitchen further, looking determined.

“You should let me go right now, let me go and lure him out and end this, please.” She looked so hopelessly desperate as she spoke. Hotch shook his head, gripping the counter more fiercely.

“You know I can’t let you leave, just as much as I can’t leave.”

(Y/N) scoffed at his words, pointing toward the front door, “If I decide to walk out that door right now, you can’t stop me, Hotch!” Her eyes flashed dangerously until Hotch stepped away from the counter, standing at his full height. He saw something behind the anger shift, a modicum of fear.

He kept his voice steady, low, “You are not leaving. End of discussion.” She watched him speak, her face twisting further in anger. She turned, abruptly, toward the front door, blind rage overtaking her sensibility, and she moved toward it.

She was in a sweater and jeans, and she walked toward the front door like she was in full combat gear, ready to take on the world. But Hotch was quicker, he reached out and grabbed her arm, jerking her first toward him, and then into the wall behind them. He wasn’t harsh, careful not to hurt her in any way, but her furious yell made clear that she was not impressed. “For fucks sake, Hotch!”

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N), when did you become such a little fucking brat?” He spat, holding her against the wall, he stepped closer, looking down into her eyes, “When did you decide that it was you against the world? I’m right here trying to protect you!”

She stopped struggling and looked at him with wide eyes, “That’s why I want to leave, Hotch! Being cooped up here, knowing you aren’t safe-knowing you’re sacrificing everything for me, I can’t do this to you anymore, I can’t accept this kind of help.” She was breathless, tears burning at her eyes that she refused to let fall, arms pinned to her sides.

He shook his head, sighing, “How can I possibly make clear to you that I am okay with this, that I-I need to be the one to protect you, (Y/N)?” Hotch gripped her arms tighter, still standing so, so close.

“Why? What does that mean, that you need to?” She gazed up at him now, her wide eyes revealing her anger was disappearing, despite her frustrations. “Aaron?”

At the sound of his name, Hotch felt his anger dissolving into something much more powerful. His willpower shattered, and he dipped his head-surprised to find her expression was not of anger or fear now, but anticipation. When he captured her lips with his own, her reaction was instantaneous, her head lifting from the wall to deepen the kiss.

It was bliss, pure bliss.

Hotch slid his hands from her arms, gently cradling her head. He ran his tongue across her lips, and they opened for him, allowing him to taste her. He groaned as she slipped her hands up, gripping his shirt to pull their bodies together.

After a moment, he pulled his head back, panting, “I love you, that’s why. I love you more than I should, and I have for a while now. I think I’ve loved you since we first met, and every day I fall all over again when I see you, or learn something new, and I am never going to let you walk out of a door without me by your side if it means keeping you safe, because I’ve just found you and I never want to lose you, (Y/N).” The words rushed out of him, finally free, his shoulders lighter already.

“I thought it was just me.” She was looking at him in adoration now, tears falling, “I thought, a man like you...never, not for me, look but don’t hope.” She sniffled, and he wiped away her tears with his thumbs, kissing her forehead. “Aaron, I love you too.” At her words he brought their lips crashing together again, holding nothing back now.

He pressed (Y/N) into the wall, delighted at her gasp when she felt him hard against her stomach. He trailed his hands down, to her hips, behind her thighs. He had to stoop slightly, she was so short, and he scooped her up. Her heat made contact with him and they both groaned at the sensation before Hotch hastily carried her the few steps into the bedroom. Hotch laid (Y/N) down on the bed carefully, one hand sliding protectively behind her head. She kept her legs around him, holding him close and taking on his weight.

For a few minutes, they continued kissing, until Hotch broke away to begin exploring her body. Shifting his weight and kneeling, his hands travelled down, gently. She moaned softly, then whimpered when his hand traced over her breast, her nipple hard within her thin sweatshirt. Hotch sat up, pulling her with him so that he could pull the sweater over her head. She complied without hesitation, seeming to consent to his control.

But he was a gentleman, “Just tell me if you want to stop, okay, (Y/N)?” He breathed, pausing as he reached for her beautiful, bare breasts. She nodded, but Hotch needed to hear her say it, and she read that in his expression.

“I promise, Hotch.” She gasped out, writhing in anticipation. He began kneading her breasts, only to find she was sensitive here-his fingers brushing over her nipples caused her to jerk slightly, moans unending. He gently eased her back to lay again, before pulling his shirt off.

Momentarily, he became self-conscious of the scars scattered across his torso, now exposed. (Y/N) reached up, tracing one with her finger, “You’re perfect, Aaron.” Worry ceased at her words, his heart swelling. In response, he ducked his head and brought his mouth to her chest, his tongue flicking over her nipple. She reacted instantly, her back arching and a hand gripping his hair, encouraging him.

He took his time teasing her, moving between each breast, he ignored her hips seeking friction against him. For as long as he could stand.  

A whimper escaped her lips, so full of longing it had Hotch glance up, meeting her eyes. Her pupils were blown out, desire flushing her face, lips trembling, “Hotch...”. He shifted again, this time slipping his thumbs into her waistband, tugging. She lifted her hips to help, and he swiftly removed her pants and underwear in one swoop, tossing them on the floor.

Automatically and instinctively, her legs closed. Hotch caught her left leg, pushing his hand down her inner thigh. She writhed beneath him, but her leg stiffened, and he looked at her closely, “What’s the matter, baby girl?” He whispered, concerned.

She peered up at him, looking shy, “I...I’ve never been able to cum that way, and I know men don’t really like to, you know, so you don’t have to.” Hotch gazed at her in surprise.

“Is that what you think? I don’t want to taste you?” He held her gaze, but moved his hand down, sliding a finger across her heat. Her hips bucked, “I’m going to taste you cum in my mouth, sweetheart. I’ll show you just how much I’ve been wanting this, okay?” She nodded eagerly, her breathing erratic, legs relaxing slightly.

Hotch pushed himself down the bed and hooked her legs over his shoulders, finally coming face to face with her; she was glistening for him. He groaned. “Sweetheart, you’re so wet for me already.” She merely mewled in response as his fingers explored her folds. She was well-groomed, her hair trimmed fairly short, giving him a full few of her; his mouth watered.

The moment Hotch felt her legs relax on his shoulders, becoming more comfortable with his face being so close to her, he dove in. He quickly moved his hands to grip her hips, holding her in place as he began to lick up her slit, then press his tongue into her clit. She bucked and writhed, fighting against his grip to no avail.

“Oh god, oh god, Aaron, please, please...”

He smiled against her, pulling back slightly, “Please what, baby girl? What do you need?” He licked her again, and she cried out, lifting her head to look down at him. She tasted divine, which only drove him to lick and suck more, waiting for her to respond.

It took her a few minutes to form words as his assault on her clit continued, “Need...I think I might...uh, cum, Aaron.” She groaned his name, and he laughed against her, which sent vibrations deep into her. He kept up his pace, felt her tensing more, shivering beneath him.

“Cum baby girl, let go for me.” He ordered, and it was like she’d been waiting for his permission. Her back arched up and he felt her throb against his tongue, a soft cry escaped her lips. She jerked in her orgasm, over and over. He sucked lightly on her and she trembled in response, tears spilling out of her eyes before she fell back into the bed, coming down from her high.

“Oh god, oh,” She breathed, and Aaron backed off, sliding up the bed to lay next to her. He watched her catch her breath, revelling in her blissed-out expression, her red cheeks. He waited a few moments, letting her come down. “I’ve never, ever had an orgasm like that, Christ.”

Hotch laughed, leaning over her and planting gentle kisses along her hairline, her eyes, the tip of her nose, “We can stop here if you want to.” He suggested, but of course, Aaron had forgotten her age. 25 years old, in good shape-orgasm or not, she wasn’t done yet. Her eyes flew open and met his, pupils fully dilated still.

“I want to keep going, but I have to tell you something first,” (Y/N) stayed laying, but drew her legs together, “And if you decide you think we should stop, then I fully accept that.”

He tilted his head, eyes exploring her worried expression, “What is it, sweetheart?” His hand had been roaming absentmindedly, but he stopped at her hip. He gazed down at her, brows furrowed.

She seemed to steel herself, taking a deep breath.

“I’ve, never-you know, had sex,” Seeing his shocked expression, she began to ramble, “It just never happened, with anyone I dated when I was younger, and it got to the point where it was an afterthought, especially after I bought an expensive vibrator, and I know that it’s weird or, whatever, to be 25 and this inexperienced, but-“

“(Y/N),” He cut her off, stroking her cheek gently, “Thank you for telling me. But it doesn’t change my mind, about anything. I would understand if this was far enough, for now, truly, so just tell me what you want.” He hoped he could spend the rest of his life making her feel better, happy, loved. They didn’t need to continue if she wasn’t ready.

“Hotch, I...I want you, I always have,” She shifted slightly, and he watched her breathing pick up in anticipation, “I’ve thought about it, so many times...when I shouldn’t have, especially.”

His interest was piqued. Hotch rolled over her, bracing his weight on his arm, pressing his erection against her, his pants still on, “Really? Tell me.” He said, noting how she flushed any time he ordered her to do something.

“The first time I thought about it, was back at headquarters after the first case we worked when you came back to work. You were in your office and I dropped off everyone’s reports,” Hotch remembered this evening, as he’d been surprised to find the newest team member picking up the slack and finalizing everyone’s notes for submission, “You had taken off your tie, and you’d been so good to me in the field, so kind. But when I knocked on the door you were deep in thought and at first, you glared at me and I thought ‘how much would I give to climb up on that desk and get rid of that frown’.”

Hotch hissed at her words, grounding against her harshly, “You wanted me that soon?” (Y/N) nodded, a breathy moan escaping.

“After that, I thought about you too often. I had to use my vibrator the moment I got home, every day. I had to bring it on the road, even. I wanted you to take me, everywhere, anywhere, as much as you wanted.” Hotch groaned, pushed her down and sat back, swiftly removing his pants and briefs. (Y/N)’s head popped up and looked at his erection, her eyes widening in shock, instantly licking her lips. “Holy shit, Hotch...” He laughed at her words.

“I’ve been wishing I could bend you over my desk for months now, but I had no idea you hadn’t ever done this before. I want to see your face, baby girl.” Something in his voice caused her eyes to widen, further. He lowered himself, reaching down with one hand to push his length along her folds, wetting it in her juices.”Oh fuck, you’re so ready for me baby girl, tell me you want this.”

She knew he needed to hear her give permission again, and she gave it instantly, “Please Aaron, please I need you, ple-oh!” She gasped as he pushed into her, hard. Stiffening, a low groan broke free, her eyes shut tightly. He buried himself completely inside of her before freezing, waiting for her pain to subside. Pleasure rippled through Hotch.

Hotch kissed her gently as she whimpered in pain, “You did so good, sweetheart, it’ll be okay in a minute, just breath for me,” He whispered, stroking her hair back, watching her face closely. For a few moments, her eyes stayed shut, screwed up against the sensation, and he gave her credit for taking her time to adjust. He knew he was larger than average, and she was so tight around him. He had to keep still for both her sake and his own, fearing her tightness alone would send him over the edge-he wanted to take his time and make her feel...everything.

He felt when her body had adjusted, the tension in her lower body relaxing, her eyes beginning to open. He tested the waters, moving his hips back slightly, and then sinking into her again. He groaned, watching as her face lit up at his movements; so he repeated them, moving further back this time.

“Oh fuck, Aaron!” That was all he needed to hear. He moved over her, bracing his arms on the bed on either side of her head, his hands near her face, and began to thrust quickly, long strokes that brought stars to his vision. And she was loud beneath him, one hand on his chest, the other gripping his shoulder, screaming his name. He pounded into her, groaning, and he buried his face in her neck, biting gently, which only elicited further shouts, her hips bucking slightly to meet his movements.

“Oh baby girl, you are taking me so well, fuck,” He bit her neck again, and she jerked in response, her walls squeezing him. “Such a good girl for me, such a good girl.”

“Sir, please, please don’t stop.” She whimpered, and Hotch’s eyes flew open in surprise, her words sending a shiver down his body.

He stared down at (Y/N), who seemed surprised at herself, but a small smirk quirked her lips, and he growled, a hand sliding behind her head and gripping her hair, the other grabbing her jaw, gentle but firm. “Say that again.” He kept his pace, pleasure building.

“Uh, sir, fuck me, please sir!” (Y/N) was a writhing mess beneath him, loving his reaction, his dominance, her eyes watching him in delight. She arched slightly as his thrusts became almost brutal, and began to call his name over and over, unable to stop.  

Hotch leaned down and bit her neck again, leaving another mark, and she began to tremble beneath him, words escaping her when his thrusts bottomed out, hitting her deep, eyes-rolling. He kissed her, but she was so blissed out it barely registered, which only made him happier. “Fuck...Good, baby girl, so good...cum for me again okay? You can cum for me now, fuck!”

On his last word, he gave an almighty thrust and she screamed, her hands clutching his shoulders as the wave broke over her, her body tensing, squeezing him, and then, “Aaron!” It was his undoing and he came with her, spilling himself inside her as he moaned her name. He brought his head down and kissed her breasts, jerking wildly into her, his thrusts sloppy. Her body relaxed as she came down from her high.  

“Oh sweetheart,” He breathed, slowly easing out of her, before collapsing on the bed beside her. He pulled her to him, and she obliged, rolling over and resting her head on his chest, while they both remained silent, catching their breath. “You did so well, baby girl.” He kissed the top of her head.

“That was-I mean,” (Y/N) stammered, struggling to find words. Inwardly, Hotch smirked, happy to know he’d rendered her somewhat speechless. “I think I’ll just leave it at I love you.” She began to giggle, gazing up at him.

Hotch joined her, months of tension and longing now gone, and in its place a happy new beginning. They still had forces outside of their cozy little hideaway that worked against them, but for the time being, he and (Y/N) could simply enjoy the clear air between them.

The rest of the world could wait.

“I love you, too, (Y/N)”

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

[hangovercurse]

Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

*busts in the door* ANTONI SUFFERING PROMPTS? may I offer any combo of 8: pour salt in my muse’s wound(s), 5: drug my muse, and/or 23: trip my muse for my favorite ashtray 😍

One Two Three Four Five

CW: Burns, salt in wound, cigarette smoking, internal and external dehumanization, pet whump, emeto mention

"Sssshhhh." His whimpers have gotten too loud again, and there's a hand in his hair, rough petting that feels more like another kind of violence, opening new wounds. It's Quiet One crouched in front of him, head tilted, eyes sparkling in the graying darkness as dawn comes closer and closer. "Hold still. There we go. Good boy."

A shiver of pleasure runs down his spine, the simple pure sense of doing what he is trained to do, made to do. Made for, what he wanted, to make up for whatever sins are buried deep inside his ruined memory.

"How do you know all this shit, anyway? Not just the movie. They didn't get into half this shit in the movie." Deep-Voice is back in the wrecked kitchen, going through cabinets with doors that hang off broken hinges.

The ashtray is in what was the living room, his hands tied behind him with his own t-shirt, ripped to long strips. He's sweating, even in the chilly empty room, sitting up but slumped over. They've tied one bit of his shirt around his neck with a little bow.

A droplet of sweat runs down his collarbone, dips over his chest, finds a new burn and the ashtray hisses, biting on his lower lip to kill the sound until he feels blood burst free of him again. How many times has he bitten his lip tonight?

Lookout sits over by the front door, miraculously still intact right down to its frosted glass panels. He keeps looking outside and then back, chain-smoking, one cigarette after another even after his face seems green around the edges. There are five from him, five new circles of pain for the ashtray to focus on.

Three with his eyes sparkling, two with a growing uncertainty. Then Lookout went and threw up outside in the bushes someone had once carefully landscaped along the front of the house. He had to be convinced to stop panicking over DNA, Quiet One had to lecture him on not listening to the fucking true crime podcasts any longer.

They're not gonna test your goddamn puke, asshole. Besides, does that look like somebody who's gonna call a fucking detective? Get back in here.

Now Lookout sits by the door, and the butts of the cigarettes he has already finished lay scattered around his shoes.

"My uncle," Quiet One says, using the ashtray's hair to lift his head again, looking over the glazed, empty obedience written alongside the suffering, worn openly on his face. "Works for WRU. They're not supposed to talk about it, sign like the world's most ironclad NDA, but he tells me stories sometimes."

"Ron?" That's Lookout, voice shaking. He looks like he wants to throw up again. The ashtray blinks at him, dazedly. How can he look sick when the ashtray is the one whose skin is burning for his crimes? "Ron works for-"

"Hey! What the fuck did I say about names?" Quiet One rolls his eyes. Deep Voice comes back in, shoes crunching on glass and rocks and bits of crumpled paper and everything else that's been dragged in here over time. He crouches next to Quiet One, holding out a thick cylindrical... something.

The ashtray's eyes can't focus enough to understand.

"Look what I found," Deep Voice says, softly.

Quiet One grins. "Oh, yeah. Do it, man."

Deep Voice flips open a little metal thing along the cylinder's lid, and the ashtray's eyebrows furrow, confused. His thoughts move slowly, fighting through deep water.

He realizes what it is just as Deep Voice tips the canister of salt and pours it over the new constellation they've made on his stomach, reaching out with his other hand to rub circles, pressing the grit deeply into the burns.

The ashtray's back arches, every muscle locked, choked sounds coming from a throat that won't open enough for a scream. Quiet One keeps a hand in his hair to hold him still, watching with bright avid eyes, glittering with fascination as he looks at the veins in the ashtray's neck standing out, the blood smeared along his chin from his lower lip.

"Jesus Christ," Quiet One says, softly. "You're fucking gorgeous, buddy, you know that?"

"What if he gets, like, infected from this?" Lookout asks, hands shaking so hard he drops the lighter when he tries to light up again. "And like. Dies?"

"What if he does?" Quiet One shrugs one shoulder. "Sucks to be him, then, I guess." His eyes move over the ashtray's face, watching with intensity as Deep Voice pours salt on another set of burns, listening to the ashtray's hitched sobs, watching the tears track through dirt down his cheeks. "Fuck, man. Those cheekbones. I can see why some old fucking perv wanted you."

It wasn't for his cheekbones. The ashtray would tell them if he could remember how to speak. It was for his crimes, it was because he had done something so terrible he would give anything to escape it. It was because he had to pay for what he'd done. It was because-

Abruptly, Quiet One lets go of his hair, letting his head fall back down, chin nearly to his chest. "Hey. Get over here with the lighter, man."

"Why?"

"I want to do one more. I'm tired, I want to go to bed. Come on."

The ashtray catches Lookout's soft oh thank god as he gets to his feet and shuffles over, dropping the pack of cigarettes and the lighter into Quiet One's waiting hands.

"What the fuck, dude?"

"What?"

"You smoked like the whole damn pack! This shit costs money, you fucking baby."

"Fuck off, I'll buy you more. Just. Finish it up, I want to go home, too." Lookout looks away, out the broken windows towards the street. "People're gonna be fucking waking up soon. Let's get out of here."

"Yeah, yeah. Asshole."

Quiet One turns back to him, using one finger to tip his chin up, almost gently. The ashtray looks back at him, blank but for the pain. It fills his body, the throb of each individual new mark joining the itching aches of the old. The oldest scars are so faint they hardly mar his skin, the newest are bright red burns, skin buckling and bubbling under heat it isn't made to withstand.

"Pozhaluysta," He whispers, lips barely moving. "Pozhaluysta, Mr. Davies, ostanovites'."

"Mmmn. That's Russian, isn't it? Sexy. One more, pet. Think you can handle one more burn for me? Take it quiet and we'll leave. Can you do that for me?"

The ashtray nods, frantically, in desperate need for it to end. He can go back to his room, with the bars on the windows, and sing himself to sleep. He can go back to his room.

"Good boy."

The ashtray stares at the little red circle of light as the cigarette is lit, the flickering flame. The click of the lighter as it shuts again, the smoke blown into his face. Familiar and wrong, this smoke is bitter and acrid and Mr. Davies always smelled sweet and almost herbal when he smoked, the deep clove smell in the ashtray's clothes, his hair, lingering on his skin.

They untie his hands from behind his back and the bow from his neck, Quiet One rubbing at the deep red marks left behind, thumb moving back and forth over the ashtray's Adam's apple, breathing softly. "Shit. God, I wish I had one of these for mine."

"Well, unless you discover a shitload of money, you'd just be stealing. Or... like, committing a bunch of fucking felonies."

"Yeah, yeah. If I clean up a bit I bet my uncle could get me in at WRU. I heard they have a handler there who fucking killed like four people before he got the job."

"Jesus Christ, dude, seriously?"

"Yeah. Peters or something. My uncle doesn't fuck with him. Nobody does. Said he's fucking gross but he gets Employee of the Month like all the time. I could be gross for money."

"Man, who wouldn't be gross for money."

"Ha, right? All right, let's finish this shit up." Quiet One sighs, looking back at the ashtray. "You were a good fucking time, man. Enjoyed the hell out of this. Here we go. Stay quiet for me now."

Quiet One presses the cigarette into the inside of the ashtray's wrist, right in the center of his barcode, the one place that Mr. Davies never touched.

The ashtray bites his lip until it bleeds, whining deep in his throat as new tears fall, but he doesn't scream. He's quiet.

He's good.

He can be good.

"There we go." A ruffle to his hair and Quiet One stands, Deep Voice following almost immediately. Quiet One relights his cigarette and walks to the door, where Lookout moves outside before them.

Quiet One is the last to leave, looking over his shoulder at the ashtray still sitting on the ground, slumped over, in the ruined house. He lifts up his cell phone, turns on flash, and takes a photo.

The ashtray flinches at a sudden blinding light he barely registers as what it is, and Quiet One and Deep Voice laugh.

Lookout is already out by the street, bouncing on his toes, looking back and forth like he expects sirens any second.

"Maybe we'll see you again sometime," Quiet One says, and then they leave, their voices and laughter fading along with the crunch of gravel under their shoes, until the only sound left is the ashtray's ragged, uneven breathing.

He doesn't know when he gets to his feet, or how. He pulls the sweatshirt back on and leaves the shreds of his t-shirt behind. The front door is open, and when he stumbles outside, the sky is pink along the edges of the horizon.

The ashtray moves down the sidewalk, and he doesn't know where he's going, or what he'll do when he gets there.

He ends up standing, swaying a little, next to a stop sign in a place that looks familiar but he doesn't know at all. The pre-dawn light has everything slightly eerie and unsettled in his mind, shapes crashing into each other, puzzle pieces that don't quite fit.

A hand touches his back and he spins around with a gasp, staring down in terror at a short elderly woman with dark brown skin and thick hair a blend of silvery white and black pulled no-nonsense at the nape of her neck.

She looks up at him, her own eyebrows knitted. "I said good morning. Did you hear-" She goes quiet, and her eyes move over his face with too much understanding.

She knows.

Everyone knows what he is. Everyone has always known. It was a mistake to believe he could be safe anywhere outside the four walls of Nat's home. It was a mistake to think he could build a life that might involve leaving here, living on his own.

Everyone will always know.

Antoni swallows, and shudders as it makes the fresh burn on his throat ache and throb in reminder. He struggles to move his mouth to speak. "M-... Miss Ruth. D-Dobroye utro."

He realizes only then that his sweatshirt is still unzipped, and she can see the line of scars, the new burns and old, and heat rushes to his cheeks underneath the dirt already caking them.

"Oh, honey. What happened to you?" Ruth's voice is low, and she looks to one side, and then the other. Then she sighs and steps back, gesturing. "Come on inside my house, sweetheart. Just me this week, no one else to bother us. Let me patch you up, your people are still sleeping no doubt."

His people.

He is safe with his people, inside the house. But he has never been safe when he leaves. It is too easy to read what he is in every inch of his skin.

"Spasibo," He whispers as he follows her up the steps.

[aurathian]

Life in a Dead World

My submission for @zelinkweek2021 day 5, prompt Domesticity: Family.

read it here on AO3!

When she gazes at the castle for the first time in one hundred years, when she takes her first good look at it in forever, she sees nothing but despair. Loss. She sees nothing but memories she once held dear, long dead and buried under the rubble. She sees nothing.

He is her guiding hand through this new, foreign world in which she is blind. The way he takes her hand ever so gently and leads her across the stepping stones of the future is comforting, but her steps are uneasy still.

“Zel,” someone calls. “Wake up.” A gentle shake rumbles her shoulder and she turns over to face the voice.

“I’m up,” she manages to say, though hoarsely, and wrenches her eyes open to meet Link’s face. He swipes a finger across her forehead, brushing back stray strands of her sunshine hair. Taking his time studying her face, his blue eyes dart around before settling on her lips. He places a chaste kiss upon them.

Most mornings spent in their house in Hateno Village were like this. She’d be woken up by him saying her name softly, like it’s a prayer, and he’d kiss her before rolling out of bed. He’d make them breakfast, something simple like eggs and rice, and then he would head out to the fields for work. She’d stay curled up inside, reading books on their bed and tinkering with whatever ancient scraps Link found on his adventures.

Zelda doesn’t really like the mornings. The sun rises and casts its bright rays on everything ugly in the world and the daytime forces her to face it. She remembers her last sunrise before the Calamity, though the memory is blurry and faded now. It was a quiet morning when she was sent on her way to the Spring of Wisdom to offer her final prayer to the Goddess Hylia, full of apprehension and fear—fears she fulfilled.

On this day, however, he makes pancakes topped with berries he had picked after work the day before. He serves her orange juice in one of the fancy glasses they reserve for company—though they never get visitors anyway—and sets the table nice, with placemats and flowers in the center.

“What’s the occasion?” she asks, finally lured downstairs by the sweet smells and clattering utensils. Sliding into the chair across from him, she takes up her fork and digs in.

“Nothing special,” he replies nonchalantly with a raise of his brows, but she can feel his gaze on her as he takes a sip of his own juice. Zelda is able to indulge in a few more bites of soft, buttery pancake before he speaks again.

“Will you come into town with me today?” he requests, his hand drifting across the table to gingerly grasp hers.

“That’s what the occasion is, then,” she mumbles bitterly. Her appetite is lost and she sets the fork down. “You know I can’t.”

The few times she stepped foot into Hateno Village, the few times she saw the faces of the men and women and children walking through town and living, she turned around and went back to their house on the edge of the village. Link would follow suit some time later and find her gripping the photo of them and the Champions, staining its glass cover with tears.

The village is bright and lively. He tries to make her see the good, but she is blinded by memories.

“Why not?” he prods, taking a step into where he’d never dared to go before, opening the door to her heart just a little more.

“You know why.” Her voice is shaky now. “When I look at them—when I see their faces, they… they remind me of the people I killed all those years ago.”

“You didn’t kill anyone.” His tone is the opposite of hers; certain and sure, and his foot is planted steady in the doorway now. Though his memories are few, they are vivid with color and life and they feel real each time he relives them, whether in his dreams or by traveling to the places he uncovered them in the first place.

“Killing isn’t just about who you strike with your blade, Link,” she scolds. “It’s about what you fail to do that causes their deaths.” Her hands rest now in her lap, leaving his empty and open atop the table. “In my case, I failed to awaken my power in time.”

“But they’re not the people you killed.”

“They look like ordinary citizens. People, innocent people, going about their lives. The very people affected by my incompetence.”

“But—”

“There is no reason for me to go into the village anyway.”

Link sits back in his chair. “Why?” he breathes. The door is closing and he’s fighting to keep it open now.

“Hyrule is dead,” Zelda says plainly. “It died long ago, with all those people. When I looked upon the castle, when we were traveling back here through ruin after ruin, I saw no life.”

“There’s life right outside our house,” he counters.

“We have experienced two different kingdoms, Link.” She stands from her chair and wanders to the stairs, fingers lingering over the banister. “You do not remember my Hyrule. In comparison, this land is dead.” The conversation is over. She walks up the stairs without a word and he can hear her shuffle into bed. Then, it’s silent.

—

He tries again the next morning. This time, he coaxes her outside with the promise of a morning spent picking the flowers growing in their yard. It’s peaceful and they can’t hear the sounds of Hateno Village from their quaint house across the bridge, and he watches her face as she plucks the white flowers from the ground. Her eyes are lidded and mouth curved into a small smile.

He wishes he could show those grass green eyes the beauty of the Hyrule he knows, from its snowy mountaintops to its humid jungles; wishes she could meet the people who helped him along his journey, the people he considers Champions of this new age.

When he’s accrued plenty of flowers in his basket, he calls out to her, “Hey Zel, come here!”

She crawls over, bringing her own basket alongside her. “What?”

“What do you want to do with all these flowers?”

She hums, then says, “I don’t know.” Pulling one out of her basket, she twirls it around by the stem.

“I was thinking we could go into the village and give them to the children,” he offers, standing up and holding out his hand.

“Is that what this was all about?”

“Well…”

She scowls, taking her basket and marching toward the house. He winces as the front door slams shut behind her.

Link, however, is persistent, and if he has anything, it’s the audacity. Every day he tries something new to get her to go into the village with him—getting water from the river, buying a new dress, even visiting Purah at the lab—but each attempt is turned down by her.

“I can do my own research right here from my bed,” she argues when he suggests visiting Purah. Never in his lifetime did he think he would witness Princess Zelda of Hyrule, ancient Sheikah tech extraordinaire and science nerd, turn down an opportunity to go study at a laboratory.

Then, one day, something strange happens. He leaves the house to go work in the fields like usual, bringing along a pitchfork and his lunch. He lets Zelda stay in the house to eat her breakfast and read her books. As he’s walking down the trail from his house, over the bridge and into the new developments that continue to creep ever closer to them, a hand grabs his sleeve.

“Zelda?” he asks when he sees her. “But I thought…”

“I don’t appreciate how often you tried to trick me,” she interjects, “but I did some thinking, and I want to try.”

He’s looking at her like she’s crazy, one eyebrow up and his mouth popped open.

“Please?” she begs.

Taking her hand into his, he nods, and together they walk into the village.

—

Zelda finds a comfortable spot on the edge of the well, legs dangling off the side and face shielded from the bright sun. She sits there, watching the children of the village run around and play, swinging at each other with sticks and throwing pebbles, while Link is off working in one of the farm fields. There are women behind the well gossiping a little loudly for her liking, but after a few hours she manages to tune them out.

One of the children approaches her grinning, missing teeth and all. Zelda’s world stops for a moment, forced to recall the faces of the children she aided in killing. She remembers running through Kakariko Village, drenched and dirty, and seeing the agonizing faces of the village youth while she desperately searched for Impa. She remembers the bodies—Goddesses, the bodies—both young and old, strewn across the cobblestone streets of Castle Town. Of all the memories she can visualize the best, it has to be that one.

“Hello, miss,” the child greets with a slight lisp.

Her world unpauses and she swallows hard, forcing herself to look into the child’s eyes. “Hello,” she replies.

“What’s your name? I’ve never seen you before.” There’s a booger under the child’s nose and a leaf in his hair.

“My name is Zelda.”

She’s staring at this child she’s never met before, with his big round eyes and missing teeth, and she pays special attention to the sound of his breath and the rise and fall of his chest. This child is alive, she knows, yet she can’t help but think of all the children whose blood stains her hands.

“Woah!” His eyes widen and his mouth drops open in shock. “Like the princess?”

“I suppose,” she sighs. In reality, she hates the title. It stings like a thorn even when it’s just an echo inside her head. Hearing the word forces her to recall the countless tales and rumors spread about her through the castle halls one hundred years ago, of her failures and incompetence.

“My mom has told me all sorts of stories about the princess! Like how pretty and nice she was.” Scowling, he crosses his arms. “Though my mom wasn’t alive then, so I don’t know how she knows that.”

“What are some other stories she’s told you?” Zelda raises a brow and leans in curiously. Does her memory survive on a different breath in this new Hyrule? For all intents and purposes, she doesn’t recognize herself from one hundred years ago as truly her. When people speak of the princess, they speak of a woman long dead.

“I don’t remember all of them, but she’s behind the well you’re sitting on. You could ask her.”

She glances back and winces. “Um, I think I’d rather have you tell me.” Zelda hops off the edge of the well and kneels down in front of the child. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Nebb,” he says. “Say, I don’t remember much about the princess, but I can tell you about this one guy I know.”

“Sure,” she replies, sitting on the ground next to Nebb.

“There was this traveler who came by our village a lot,” he begins, “and I asked him to show me a ton of weapons! I don’t know how he was able to find all of them, though. I think he lives in the old house outside of town.”

Zelda hums, resting her head in her hands. She thinks of Link, of the various weapons on display in their house, and there’s no doubt in her mind that she knows exactly who Nebb is talking about.

“I might know him,” she says.

“Really?” Nebb shouts. “He’s so cool, isn’t he? I’ve seen him totally demolish the Bokoblins that come too close to the village before.”

“He’s very cool,” she agrees, trailing off as a little girl approaches them. “And who is this?”

“I’m Narah!” says the little girl. “This is my brother.” She gestures to Nebb and he groans before running away to go play.

“Well, Narah, I’m Zelda.”

“I like to talk,” Narah states. “Ask me some questions!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one asking them.”

Zelda can’t help but laugh. It’s a bright and healthy laugh, one that enraptures Link as he approaches her, sweaty from a day in the field.

“Someone’s enjoying herself,” he chuckles, helping Zelda stand from the ground. Narah gets bored with the attention no longer on her and chases after her brother.

“The children are very sweet,” Zelda admits. “Apparently people share stories about me.”

“They do,” he says. “They’re nothing like the stories you heard all those years ago.”

“What do you mean?”

Her steps as they walk back to the house are more confident, and her grip on his hand is sure.

“I know how people talked about you back then, Zelda. I figured it out through my memories.” He pushes the door open for her, setting his pitchfork against the outside wall before stepping inside. “But these people… they look up to you. You’re a beacon of light to them.”

“But I didn’t do the one thing I was supposed to,” she argues. “They don’t look up to me. They look up to the princess of a century ago.”

“They know you as that princess—that princess who valiantly sacrificed herself to the Calamity to prevent it from reaching their homes. You are what kept Hyrule alive all this time.”

“I’m not a princess anymore,” she mumbles, climbing up the stairs. “It’s just Zelda now. Besides, they don’t even know I’m her. We are two different people now, Link.”

He says nothing, only steps up to the kitchen counter and rummages through the cupboard.

“What do you want for dinner?”

—

She ventures into Hateno Village with him every day now, sitting at her usual spot along the edge of the well and talking to the village children. They are healing, she finds, with their wide smiles and innocent, naive eyes. After some days, she starts playing with them, chasing them around the village and tossing balls back and forth.

She would give anything to go back in time and have the childhoods they have. To frolic in the outdoors, to have both parents, to play and wish and dream and be a child. If Zelda wasn’t so wary of the statues of the Goddess Hylia, she would pray at them once more, pray for a real childhood.

One day, she finally talks to the mothers behind the well. Or, rather, they talk to her.

“Miss,” one of them prods, “why do you come watch our children everyday?”

“Oh, um.” Zelda fiddles with her fingers. “They’re very sweet.”

The women exchange strange glances. “You’re not trying to snatch up my little boy, are you?”

“No! Of course not, no,” Zelda hastily replies. “Nebb introduced himself to me. I enjoy playing with the children.”

The women still aren’t satisfied, and she can tell, so she asks, “What’s it like to be a mother?”

“Oh, it’s something, alright,” the woman with her brown hair tied up groans. “Every day is a struggle. Wake up, get ready, yes, you do have to finish all your veggies!”

Zelda smiles a little but wonders if it is really so much of a struggle to gossip behind the well every day.

“But there are times where I relish it,” the other one pipes up. “My children gave me a purpose when I had none.” A dreamy look casts itself upon her eyes. “They are my pride and joy, as difficult as they can be. My guiding lights, so to speak.”

And something clicks inside Zelda’s mind.

Link picks her up again at the well, sweaty and hot and tired as he normally is after a long day of moving hay and harvesting crops, and as they walk over the bridge to their house she stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looks over to her, frowning with concern.

“Link, I want a child,” she states, and his jaw drops.

Normally, he would try to keep her out of bed for as long as possible. That night, however, he wastes no time in helping her into it.

And so their life continues on exactly like that—days spent working or playing with the village children, rubbing her belly in the hopes she may have one too, nights spent panting in bed, kissing, hot and sweaty and intimate. They’re not strangers to making love, but they are new to doing so with a purpose.

Zelda is suspicious when she misses her period, but what solidifies her hypothesis is when she wakes up one morning with a sick feeling in her stomach before leaping out of bed and rushing outside to dispose of last night’s dinner all over the grass. Link awakens only moments later, finding her outside hunched over and gripping one of the house’s posts. He holds her hair back while she retches some more.

“Zelda…?”

She can only look back at him and smile, nearly laughing with joy, before jumping up to hug him.

“I still don’t get it,” he says while she peppers kisses all over his face.

“Link, I missed my period a while ago,” she explains, finding her footing on the grass. “And feeling sick in the morning, throwing up… do you not know what it means?”

His face contorts in thought, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched. His blue eyes drift off to something in the distance as he racks his brain for a possible conclusion.

Zelda whispers into the ear of her lover, “I’m pregnant.”

She can’t see his face light up because he hugs her so tight she’s struggling to breathe, but she lets it happen. Her wish, her one prayer she had ever bothered to offer to the Goddess after the defeat of the Calamity, comes true.

—

The nine months go by like a breeze, her bump growing week by week, having to stay home and rest more often because of it, but she’s happy. She spends her evenings in the rocking chair Link constructed for her, singing to her belly as she rubs it with her soft hands. Her cravings get weirder, too. One week, she’s asking for delicious fruitcake, and the next, she’s asking for soup but instead of meat, it’s monster parts.

Still, Link obliges, going out and picking (or slaying) whatever he needs to to satisfy her. Eventually, the doctor they visit in the village has to start coming to them when it becomes too backbreaking for Zelda to walk, and by some will of the Goddess, the doctor is present when she goes into labor on a rainy autumn morning.

Even as she’s pushing and screaming and grunting, Zelda thinks Hylia must be apologizing, because according to the doctor, it was one of the easiest deliveries he’s ever assisted with. He hands Zelda her baby, wailing and wriggling, small and pale, with a head of soft, thin hair, colored like Link’s. The doctor leaves them alone, lingering downstairs in case anything else needs to be done.

Link kneels by the bedside, watching as Zelda coos at the baby and pokes at her tiny hands. “What will we name her?” she asks him.

“Do you have any ideas?”

She hums, but her eyes never leave the baby. “I would like to name her Impa,” she says.

“I think that’s a great name.” His voice is a whisper now, quiet and hushed as he marvels at the sight of Zelda and their child, and for the first time in a long while, his beloved’s green eyes shine once more.

She smiles down at her baby, because even in a Hyrule she thought long dead, new life still prospers.

[thegreatshippingwar]

Was it worth it

Summary: Based on the movie "Don't breathe" But with Yandere Jack Morrison/ soldier 76

Warnings: Rape, death (not you), murder, swearing, impregnation, messed up logic, blackmail

You remember your first meeting with him, it was pleasant. He was a nice blind ex military man who had just moved after the death of both of his children. Rumour said it was a drunk driver, but you didn't want to preye on anyone's trauma. When you first interacted with him it was when you had made him a house warming give the day after he moved in. It was an apple pie, you figured nothing could go wrong with apple pie. Your Parent(s) had said it was rude not to give a welcoming gift to your neighbour, it was a bit old fashion but you didn't mind. 

The apple pie was warm to the touch as you knocked on Mr Morrison's door.  It didn't take long for the man with white hair and red glasses to open the door. "Good Morning sir, My name is (Y/N) (Y/L) and I live next door." You realized quickly it was maybe best to say the number so he knew which side. "(N/H). Anyway I baked an apple pie here to welcome you to the neighbourhood. I hope you like apple pie?" You started to get nervous he was handsome. Scars litter his face and he was buff for an old dude. You started to blush thinking about him working out trying to keep fit. You pulled yourself out of your fantasy quickly as you realised he probably had a wife.

"It smells delicious." His voice made your heart jump it was smooth but had a rough undertone. "I'm surprised though not many people welcome new neighbours these days." He shifted on his feet before holding a hand out in your direction. "Especially someone so young."

You giggled, hoping to giggle away your nerves as you handed him the pie. "You're right with that. But I guess I'm just old fashioned." 

Mr. Morrison was stoked to have you for a neighbour not that you knew. He thought you voice was angel like, he could listen to it all day. So he quickly tapped his red glasses to unblock his vision. He was using the glasses for training and to appear to be a weak blind man to be less suspicious. Looking at your hair looked smoothed to the touch. You were Beautiful he thought. Not to mention you said you enjoyed the old fashioned ways, something tightened below and Jack had to ignore for the sake of continuing the conversation. When you handed him the pie he felt your soft hand brush against his. 

A cold shiver went up both your spines, Jack mumbled something that you couldn't hear. "I hope you enjoy, and if you need anything I'm just next door."

Jack could think of many things he could need you for, one included you on the floor right now letting him fuck you. He sighed knowing a pretty thing like you probably had someone who would take care of you. Hell if Jack was younger or not pretending to be blind he would absolutely have pouched on the opportunity to care for you. "I'll do that then."

_______________________________________________________________________________

Months had passed since Mr Morrison had first moved in and other than his dog's loud dinner bell it was peaceful. You only visited a few times mostly to bring him some food if you made too much, which he appreciated. You enjoyed the small moments with Mr Morrison despite it feeling like you would prefer him to your current boyfriend. You seemed to be comparing them a lot and you all too quickly thought Mr Morrison was a better man in general.

Andy wasn't a bad boyfriend but you did question his choice of friends. You knew two of his friends were low key thieves that stole from houses. But they never took too much Andy had said. Only enough to survive since their families kicked them out. You felt sorry for the two but all ways had a feeling there was more to the story then they let you believe. 

After many days deciding where or not to break up with Andy you decided you could do better. Besides, you didn't want to involve yourself in what his friends were doing. They always seemed to be up to something. It would be quick and hopefully he would move on. 

You were trusting, Mr Morrison had said so as well. When you broke up with Andy he did not take it well. He yelled and screamed and begged and when that didn't work he blackmailed you. You don't know when he took it all you knew was disgust. He had take a photo of you naked which was weird since you hadn't even had sex with him yet. 

You were scared and when you asked what he wanted your heart sank. He wanted you to help him and his friends rob Mr Morrison. He figured you would be good at cracking the safe he had as you had shown off at a party when you met him that you could crack nearly and safely. You wished you hadn't learnt that skill, you wished you hadn't fallen for his tricks. Andy just wanted you to get money. 

You felt physically sick but once he said he could tarnish your clean record you caved. He threatens not only the naked pictures but photoshop pictures of you doing drugs. So you agreed, despite how nice Mr Morrison was you had no choice. You were too trusting. 

__________________________________________________________________________________

Entering the house was harder than anyone of the four of you thought. Ken who had got a spare key to Mr Morrison's house somehow was deemed useless immediately as there were more locks and keys then the one Ken stole. So Hugo had to pick each lock carefully. Andy had told you that Mr Morrison had well over $500,000 because of the drunk driver killing his kid. Andy had told you that the drunk driver had killed Mr Morrison's wife and unborn child and in order to get out of jail their parents paid a lot of money to the court and Mr Morrison. 

You feel worse knowing you were robbing Mr Morrison because that accident landed him with money. But it was too late to back out once you were in. "Take off your shoes they'll make to much notice." Ken whispered, "If his is blind his hearing will be better."

The whole group take off your shoes and leave them by the back door. You were especially quiet. Hugo walks up stairs toward Mr Morrison's bedroom. He has a hand made sleeping gas bottle ready to puncture and gas Morrison room. You see Hugo disappear as everyone waits in the lounge room for him. After about 2 minutes he returns. "All good?" Andy asks while whispering.

"Yeah, just he seemed to toss and turn once I punctured the bottle. But he's locked in the room now with the gas."

You don't say a word as Hugo and Ken walk straight towards the basement door that has a lock on it. Hugo gets out his lock and picks again and starts to unlock the door only for Morrison to show up on the staircase. Morrison is wearing his cloudy looking red visor glasses, a tank top and some sweatpants. He heads to the Lounge room,  Hugo looks to the group and pulls out a gun. "What are you doing here?" Morrison tills his head a little as you cover your mouth with your hands. You can't be caught now.

"I just walked in dude, I might have had too much to drink." Morrison steps closer to Hugo and Hugo panics shooting near him, "Stay back and I won't hurt you." But Morrison does the opposite and moves quickly towards Hugo. Before he can even shoot Morrison disarms him and holds the gun in his hand.

You stand frozen as Morrison points the gun in Hugo's face and calmly asks. "Who else is with you?" Ken bolts for the door only for Morrison to hear him and shoot him straight in the head. You want to cry, scream anything but you force yourself to be quiet. Hugo apparently didn't know that Ken was most definitely dead. 

"Just me and my buddy." Hugo is staring at you, just before the guns goes off in his head. You and Andy stay quite. Morrison rushes to the front door and locks everything before moving to the back you and Andy move upstairs. You move into his study, your shaking but you manage to keep yourself quite. Your crush just murderer two people, he was worse than Andy. 

Andy points to the desk which has a safe on it. He moves towards you. "Open it, we have time to get it and leave." 

"He just killed two people what if." You cut your whispers short, as Andy points a gun at you. "Okay," tears fall silently as you open the safe to find at least $5,000 in there. You help Andy pack his bag with it. 

"I bet there is more in the basement," Andy's greedy eyes stare at you before opening the study door silently. "Besides there is probably a window you can exit from there."

You follow slowly carefully, scared to make a single sound. You make it to the lounge room, seeing Morrison dragging Ken's body into his mud room near the back door. When he comes back Andy accidently makes a squeak against the wooden floor. Morrison stares towards you both. His red cloudy visor seemed to glow in the dark room. You steady your breath as he walks closer. Then you hear Hugo's phone go off, startling Morrison so much he shots it. Silence fills the air as Morrison sighs before grabbing Hugo's body and moving it. 

Once he moves out of the room you both head to the basement. A dim light fills the basement, and you move quickly down the stairs. The room is filled with shelves, most of the shelves have boxes on them or file-like books. You move towards the dim light to find a fridge with a few benches around. There is a turkey baster on the left side of the fridge. 

While you investigate the fridge Andy is looking at the shelves. "What the fuck?" Andy whispers but you're too busy opening the fridge. A strange liquid in a large container is the only thing in there. Andy moves to your side, " I'm finding a lot of military stuff, but also baby books? What the hell does he want with that." You point to the fridge container and Andy shuggs. 

You decide to move towards this open space light area before you notice the lights turn on in the basement. You freeze before you stop. The lights are hanging over this Woman who is lunging at you. She is in a patted semi room and she has a harnse like a dog on her. Tears are falling down her face and you move your way towards her.

___________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile

Jack was having a bad night, he has to get rid of two bodies. Two idiot robbers decided to try and rob him. Although he was annoyed at first he's glad now having got to experience to kill while blind folded. He can't wait to rub it in Reyes face that he can kill with his eyes closed. But knowing Reyes he might just train himself to do the same. 

Cleaning up the bodies was the worst, god he wishes he was doing anything else. Thoughts of you smiling at him thanking him for protecting the neighbourhood and then giving him a special reward help him get the job done quicker. This wasn't the only time he used you to help him through his tasks. He honestly wished you'd help him normally, but you were always distant. Maybe it was your stupid boyfriends fault, god he hated the man. He would enjoy killing him the second he got a chance.  

Jack heads to the back door making sure it's locked, before tripping on a shoe. Jack freezes before bending down and feeling around four pairs. Which means, Jack grabs one of his shotguns and heads to the basement. He hopes they didn't set the bitch free. Jack then hears the bell ringing from down stairs. "God damn it"

_______________________________________________________________________________

You set her free of her harness using a knife and she gives Andy a newspaper clipping. Andy's face falls as he reads. You pull off her gag and she silently weeps into your shirt. She clings to you before steading her words. "He said since I killed his kid I needed to replace it. He....he.....he," She is staring towards the fridge and turkey baster. 

You feel sick but you pat her head before whispering, "Lets go quickly." Andy nods his head, apparently he didn't want to look for any more money. You pull her out of the room only for a bell to ring, you look behind her and see her leg is still tied to a wire. You assume pulling the wire pulls the bell. You quickly pull out your knife as her face pails. Once you cut it you all rush for the basement door. 

A shotgun sounds and you become imobie as you watch the girl fall over. Andy grabs your arm and heads back towards the shelves. Morrison carefully checks the girl's body. "Shit," Morrison seems pissed. "All that wasted effort." You watch him tap his glasses and the cloudiness seems to clear. Andy is hiding you both behind some shelves. "One of you is a women right?" You hold Andy's shoulder tightly. "How about you give me the woman and you can go free?"

Morrison is moving up and down the shelves, his posture has changed. He doesn't seem to need to touch anything with his hands. He's different. "I could just kill you both, got plenty of women nearby to replace that bitch." Jack thinks of you, god he wishes he could tie you to him.  

Morrison reaches for a remote in his pocket and presses a button and all the light gets out. Andy grabs out his phone and sets the volume to max, he then plays a video from his phone and throws it across the room. It just so happened to be a video of you singing a nursery rhyme. You both hear Morrison let out an audible groan. 

"Fuck," Jack regonises that voice anywhere, "(Y/N) boyfriend right?" God, Andy was dumb. "I think I'll enjoy killing you and your side whore." The video ends just as Morrison picks it up, you are slowly getting to the stair when another video plays. 

"Fine, I'll do it." Your voice again plays, "Just don't, Don't show anyone those photos"

"Got it, wouldn't want (Y/N)'s reputation ruined by false rumors and a nude." Andy's voice was mocking. But you could hear your tears clearly even with the phone's shitty quality. Morrison all but grows before turning the phone off. 

"You forced yourself on her." Jack was pissed, apparently she hadn't touched the dickless jackass sexually so he was forcing her. Jack was pissed. Jacke turned the light back on. Cat and mouse was over. He wanted him dead. 

Morrison rushed over to where your legs were. The shelves may have hidden your bodies but not your feet. You ran for the stair as did Andy, but Andy wasn't fast enough as you heard him scream in pain. "Fuck," You didn't look back and contunid running for the stairs only for an arm to grab your leg and pull you uside down. Your head was facing his knees as you wiggled and started crying. Your whimpers filled the room, but you stopped the second you heard Morrison groan. You looked up at him and noticed his hard on. You wanted to scream but when you saw his face you did otherwise. He was holding his other hand over his mouth. He seemed to be mumbling something, you could see a slight blush on his face.

You panicked, "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. He made me. He said...he said....'' Your rambles were cute. It seemed to ground Jack, so that's what the black mail was for. 

"Have you had sex with him?" Jack needed answers.

"I...I..." You fumble over words, "No, we never..." 

Jack pulls you right side up and smiles, "good." He walks over to the padded semi room and gently puts you down in the middle. You notice Andy moaning as he crawls to the staircase, his legs are bleeding. Morrison pulls out a pistol and shoots Andy quick in the head, seemingly too busy to deal with him. He walks over to one of the selves and grabs a box to bring over. You know you should run but you're scared. Plus you know you won't make it to the door, Morrison is too fast and strong. 

Jack opens the box and reveals a brand new harness. He brings the harness closer and you move away backing up into the room. "Come now sweetheart don't be difficult." He slowly approach low to the ground, little approaching a rabbit. "Please sweetheart," He gently grabs your arm and you freeze. You keep screaming at you body to move to run but you can't. "That's it" He all but coos in your ear as he starts to put the harness on you. "That's my good girl." 

Jack clips in the locks and chains making sure you won't be able to escape. He looks down at your fearful eyes. They all but glow a bright (Y/E) in the light of the room. He can't wait, he thought he could but not anymore. He slowly moves to a pulley lever and somehow you find yourself in the air off the floor. 

"You know she killed my kid right? I had always wanted a family and the 'wife' was expensive. I only wished for the kid to make it but my kid was killed by that 'bitch'." He hisses 'bitch' like she was poison on his tongue. "I decided she would have to give me a kid to make up for the one she killed." He looks over to the turkey baster. "I never touched her, never wanted to. But now she's dead." He looks you in the eyes and you notice he somehow got scissors and you freak out. You wiggle as hard as you can. "I'm glad he forced you to rob me. Do you know why?" You refuse to speak and keep wiggling trying to get out of the harness. "Baby," His hands are on your ass rubbing it slowly, tenderly. "When I ask a question I want you to answer." The threat was clear, so you swallow your pride. 

"Why?" More silent tears, 

"I wanted you, and now I have a good reason to keep you chained to my side. Don't worry too much once I trust you we can have you out of the basement. Once we move of course." His hand moves and he brings the scissors to the front of your pants. "But let's start by making a family." You wanted to scream but only a squeak came out of your mouth as he removed your pants with the scissors. "Adorable," He chuckled before moving to cut your shirt off. 

"Please," He stops for a second, "stop." Jack leans forward pulling your hips towards his painfully erect clothed cock. He hums before kissing your forehead. 

"Don't worry baby, I'll be gentle." He smooth voice runs a chill down your spine. God no, you wanted to wiggle and you tried but his voice stops you. "Baby, stop trying to ryell me up I won't hold back otherwise." 

Jack starts with your clit, rubbing it till you start squeaking and moaning. He enjoys himself too much seeing you like this. He knows he's going to be addicted to this, to you. But he can't help it, he starts kissing your lips hoping to comfort you a little. He all but melts into the kiss, it was just so sweet and soft. 

You feel fireworks at his kiss, you hated this you kept telling yourself. You didn't want this, but the longer he stayed there kissing you and playing with your clit the more your reason seemed to slip. You decided to just enjoy it and worry later. 

Jack waited until you relaxed a little before entering a finger in your hole. He groaned into your ear as he did it slowly. You were so tight, he was a little worried. He started pushing it in and out and you started falling apart moaning louder and crying less. Jack wanted to enter you now, but he had to be patient. "Please?" Your lusted out look broke his patients. 

"Sorry princess." Jack pulled his finger out and quickly stripped. He then aligned his penis in front of your hole. His left arm wrapped around your waist as he moved his mouth next to your eye. His right hand took off his glasses. Beautiful blue eyes greeted you with lust, you looked away towards his member. His dick was big, that you knew. He dick's was leaking and the veins looked angry. His right hand stabled his dick as he slowly pushed in, moaning into your ears. You screamed it was painful, he was too big and you weren't prepared. You started screaming for him to stop, that he was a liar, anything you could to get him to stop but he didn't listen. At least not till he was all the way into you. "Good girl, good job princess. Such a good girl for daddy." 

You kept crying as he kept praising you. You learnt quickly that Morrison was just going to do whatever he wanted without your consent. After a little bit Jack decided to grab your waist with both arms and slowly push out. He hissed as he pulled out your tight warm hole was too welcoming, too comfortable, it was heaven. He had to get back in the moment he was out. He started to fuck you faster and your screams didn't stop him or put him off. He honestly loved your screams although he wished you were moaning instead. So Jack moved his right hand to your clit as he managed to wrap his left arm around your body to keep you close. Your tits kept rubbing against his chest as he pounded into you. 

Soon enough once you felt your clit being rubbed you began to moan. Pleasure and pain where combining and god you just wished it over. You were beginning to enjoy this horrible experience. Jack's lips found yours again and this time his tongue invaded your mouth. You thought he might slow down his pace but no. He was able to kiss you, rub you just right and pound into you. "Please," You all but moaned as you realise the white tingling feeling builting to your climax. Jack was all too happy to pick up the pace. You felt bruises forming on your hips with how he was gripping them. 

"come on baby, Princess cum, cum on my fat cock." His speed seemed to stagger, "Cum on daddy's cock." You feel His cock twitch inside you just before your overwhelmed and moan as you cum. You pussy tightens around Jack and he can't hold back, "(Y/N)" He growls as his warm sperm spills into your abused hole. He pants on top of you for awhile before calming down. 

"Finally I have my perfect family."