#with gritted teeth i am prepared for everything and i am being normal about it and this is what a well adjusted adult does

[cosmicrhetoric]

like 30 world ending things have happened in the last five days but finding out i have facebook mutual friends with the guy who rammed into me at a yield sign this wknd is kinda. i hate this town

[ikkosu]

I would love something, anything with human reader (gn) SSAU, stuck between Prowl and Pharma <3 maybe they’re a mechanic? Or just a nurse? I love how you write the two dorks. They’re just sooooo 👀💚

BETWEEN A ROCK AND A WALL

a/n : ah!!!! my favorite person!!! it's been a while pookie jkjk I am excessively obsessed with them, as well LITERALY (I kid you not. It's about time I write an, ahem, threesome with them

"Have you tried reporting him for harrassment?"

Oh, you've have enough.

Your datapad hits the surface of your desk with a clink, not without letting out a growl of frustration that all the more tightened the coil of a headache, brewing in your temples.

Just a visit. It's just a visit. It's just a visit. He's just being himself he's just—

"You know what, Prowl? You're so damn petty sometimes."

You swivelled to face him, but the cop-bot perched in your chair, your chair, inspecting your work-cubicle, pretends to look away.

Like, he didn't just pester you the whole hour on ethics of trying to fire your own boss and slandering your note-taking skills.

(yellow? seriously? any other highlighter you can choose but you picked yellow? disgusting).

"You should know your adjectives, by now. I wouldn't call that petty. A term I'd prefer is being Strategic." He clipped. "But I'm sure, given how your emotions normally regulate your, whatever you have, is a brain — you wouldn't be able to comprehend such a notion."

He's made a habit of making everything sound so reasonable, it's baffling. You round your desk, stopping short in front of him. Prowl retaliates your scowl by leaning back against the chair. He tips his helm until it hits the headrest and his eyes, flaring blue, peered over the crook of his nose.

You know he's got that stupid bastardly smile underneath the facade.

"What do you want?" You huffed out.

"A simple, round the block, routine checkup. Nothing important. "

"Yeah? Yeah? You're, like, three fucking planets away from your station. I'm sure that's plausible."

Where's Max when you needed him most to beat his ass?

"Anything is possible if you think it to be so."

Oh, you're this close. This close. You look to your watch, groaning internally. Around three hours more you're due for an operation. And you're not even prepared yet! You're supposed to go through your notes on how to yank out a gut from it's slot, not having a verbal spar with Cybertron's number one asshole.

"Look, I don't know what beef you've got with the guy but I thought you're the enforcer here, mister goody two shoes. This is illegal."

He scoffs at that but doesn't seem to regard the last part, however. " It's your boss now, huh."

"Excuse me?"

"Last I heard he was the boss." The chair creaks as he shifts on the spot, looking incredibly out of place in that plush, black office wheeler. " What, did you pucker up your lips and appeased his ego to botch that spot?"

"What?" You sputtered. "Botch that spot? What are you— No, No!— He's my boss!— I— What do you want me to say?"

"That you're not his playtoy." He crosses his arms.

"I'm not!"

"Then, call him by his name." He grits his teeth. "Don't say 'my boss'. It sounds corny. It sounds stupid. You sound stupid." A digit juts your way and you scoff, holding yourself back from commiting first degree murder. " And, you know what's even better? Just don't talk to him. Ever. Not even a look or a smile. Is that understood?"

"Prowl, i—" You sighed, dragging a palm down your face. "Please, tell me you didn't come all the way here to Delphi —all the way here — just to tell me that."

The corner of his mouth tugged up a little. He looks away to hide it, though. "I'm paid to serve the law after all."

"Oh, yeah? You're paid to shut the fu—"

"My, my. That's not a pleasant way to address a man of law, now is there darling?" A low voice crooned behind you and you feel his servos curling over both sides of your waist, chassis against your back. Pharma rests his chin on your shoulder and a chesire grin is directed to the enforcer.

You don't dare to look behind you, but you're also not strong enough to lock eyes with Prowl who's got a death grip on the arm chair, teeth gritting, digits digging into the cushion. Eventually, he stands up to his full height, stepping close, you're almost sandwiched between the two like a smore.

"Doctor." He clips.

"Enforcer." Was Pharma's drawl. "Here to fetch your little pet?"

He bristles, door wings piking up at the term but doesn't regard it. "Here to take them far. How much for a forced unemployment?"

"Oh, nothing much. I usually do it for free, but this one..." Pharma leans close and you yelp when his chassis pushes you forward to press against Prowl's, you guessed it, chassis. "—Is an exception. You see, officer, I actually quite like having this one around. Keeps my arduous moments flourishing, my lonely nights — occupied."

Prowl lands a servo on your shoulder. "Yeah. Figured as much." He grits out.

"Oh, not really. It doesn't have to take much assuming." Pharma straightens up, a servo on the other side of your shoulder. "While, its all in good fun, we three all have a job to do, yes? Best you leave them to their devices now."

He was about to tow you away when Prowl's unrelenting death grip on your shoulder prevents you from moving. "I'd rather not."

"Is that so?" Poison spools out from that drawl.

"Your audials doesn't seem to be of optimum order. Mind If I smoothen out the creases?"

You winced, looking at your watch. Shit. Shit. Shit. Of all times Pharma had to come in, he takes the opportunity when Prowl is here?! You need to prepare yourself right now. That patient isn't going to pull out a gut themself, and they aren't sewing their lungs back, either. If you could just....wiggle from the rooks of their grip and slowly slide away to— Prowl clamps a servo on your waist. Pharma, clutching your shirt.

They hold you close.

Oh, forget it.

A wide, terse grin eases out on the jet's face. "Perhaps your t-cog would need a diagnosis as well. Oh, no, no not just your t-cog. Something else. As a doctor I would'nt want my patient limping for...." He whispered lowly. ".... undercompensation, given how you're strutting around...."

Prowl let's out a low growl in his throat. "Oh? How about we head out side and hunker down a nice 'smoothening out?"

"Don't try me, enforcer." Pharma's mood isn't much better but unlike Prowl he's got a good facade holding up. " You've got what's coming and it won't be pleasant. I suggest you step out now."

Then the bastardly smile curls the corner of his cheek. "Let's test out that theory, then."

Oh, dear.

[foster-the-moths]

verify (catalyst but worse au)

jonah wakes up, and gets in contact with someone he thought he left for dead.

1,474 words. what else am i supposed to put idk man just take it

"….adam? are you there?"

silence. unbearable silence. silence that tears a hole in their chest as it echoes and rings in his ears. silence that consumes what little scrap of sanity they had left, because really, what were they expecting? there's no way he was still alive. they-

a crackle of static.

"…jo...nah?"

holy shit.

"adam! are- are you…. okay? are you out of the basement? please tell me you're, like, the REAL adam and not an alternate," jonah babbles as he clutches the walkie talkie in his hand like a lifeline. their head pulses as they lean on the outside of the wrecked car, bracing themself against a wave of nausea and… static? that's not normal. he… probably has MAD, or something. everything feels slightly off, like someone moved reality three inches to the right. or left. or both? he doesn't know, he feels like he doesn't know anything. and- wait. adam. that's right. jonah hasn't heard him say anything, did he miss something? he brings the radio up to his ear, straining to listen.

"…"

nothing but static.

"adam? come on, if you're still in the basement then please just… get out of there man. i- uh… i crashed the car, but i didn't really get that far, so i can just start walking back. i'll meet you there, just… get out of the house and we can… i don't know. get out of here. just get out and i'll meet you there," jonah ends their sentence with a hiss through clenched teeth. fuck, his head is killing him, the pain swallowing him whole as it-

"no. no, i'm not coming out."

jonah snaps back to reality, his thoughts cut short like a tv being unplugged. "h-whuh?"

"i'm staying here. just leave," adam's garbled voice insists. it's as if he's speaking through cotton and static. shit. jonah's radio must've gotten damaged during the crash. these were the long-distance ones, too… jonah shakes their head, and then immediately regrets it as a spike of pain shoots through their head. it doesn't matter. all that matters is getting adam out of that stupid house.

jonah takes a breath, steadying themself. they really aren't the best at apologies, and whatever's wrong with their head isn't going to make it easier. regardless, they swallow their pride and prepare to speak.

"adam listen i- i'm sorry, okay? i'm really sorry i said that shit to you and-"

"no. you don't- jonah, i… i'm not real. i'm not adam," adam interrupts jonah's apology with a harsh buzz of static, the words sending a pit of dread into their stomach.

"…what do you mean?" jonah grits out, refusing to believe the implications those words carried.

"i was never adam. the real adam murray died when he was four i- i'm an alternate. always have been. i just never knew until now." jonah stays silent as the words register, more confused than ever. it just… didn't make sense. the pieces of this puzzle weren't connecting in his mind. adam was human. he knows that. right?

"just leave," adam- or whoever- snaps.

jonah pauses. something… wasn't right. alternates don't just reveal themselves before they even get caught. besides, from what jonah's heard, they would never pass up on an easy meal. or victim. or whatever they saw humans as. maybe he should have paid more attention to those drills, rather than rolling his eyes whenever they were mentioned, but… this does not seem like something an alternate would say. either this "alternate" has a very strange strategy, or its not an alternate at all.

"… how old was i when i got my driver's license?"

"what?"

"just answer the question," jonah insists, his suspiscion growing stronger at how perplexed the "alternate" sounds. he just hopes he's right about this. that they aren't playing into some sort of elaborate trap. he holds his breath as he waits for an answer. there's silence for a moment, but then-

"…you don't have one. your parents didn't want you to take the test until you got your grades together, but you never did. i taught you how to drive after we started going on investigations."

bingo. jonah was right.

"… shit… you- you're really him. you just- okay- okay uh-"

"that's it? you're just going to believe me?" adam's voice cuts through jonah's rambling, disbelief tinging his distorted voice.

"well yeah- i mean. no way you could fake knowing that. and uh- okay well maybe i should ask more questions, just in case?" jonah nearly smacks his head. he was really just going to put full faith into a single question? god. they're pretty sure their hunch is correct, and it's hard to think through the pounding pain in their head, but that doesn't mean they need to fling themselves into the lion's den after one point towards their theory. they need more than that. compiling evidence, or whatever sarah would say. he's so caught up in berating himself that he almost misses the "alternate's" response.

"…sure. whatever," a tight voice replies.

jonah collects his thoughts, thinking of a good question to ask. "okay, uh. what kind of pizza do we always get?"

"pepperoni from 7/11. its the cheapest stuff near hq and the cheese pizza is awful," comes the reluctant answer. jonah can hear the scoff in the other's voice, can imagine adam starting a tangent spurred by the mere thought of the sad excuse for cheese pizza at their local gas station. jonah shakes himself out of his thoughts, now was not the time. he had to stay focused. their theory was looking more plausible by the moment.

"okay, what about sarah? what's the name of that one guy she sends those emails to, and why?" jonah awaited the response with baited breath, if he was right, then…

"thatcher davis, that stupid cop. or ex-cop. whatever he is. sarah hates all cops, but she seems to hate that guy in particular. no clue why though, i've never asked her."

jonah was over the moon. they almost gave up the interrogation right then and there, but they had just one question left.

"okay… and what gas station did we stop at right before we got to the house? and what did we both get?"

"it was a… bp, i think? you shoplifted a dr.pepper after using their restroom. i didn't get anything."

jonah breathes a sigh of relief. this was adam. the real adam. they aren't sure why he seems so adamant about denying it, but they can work with this.

"yeah! yeah, see? you're definitely adam. you're not an alternate dude. i don't know why you're saying that, but you're not."

"they showed me. there was a tv in the basement," adam counters, his voice cold.

"and who's 'they'?" jonah asks, his theory nearly proven correct.

"the alternates. they-"

jonah cuts him off before he can finish, "yeah, see? alternates. you've been speaking to alternates. you probably have that MAD thing or whatever. you- they're messing with your head. don't listen to them. you're fine, you just need to get out of there, okay?"

"no," adam retorts, "you-you don't get it. my- my body is… it's wrong, jonah. i'm not… human anymore. i never was. i…" adam's voice trails off, not bothering to finish his argument. his voice sounds… anguished. like he's on the verge of tears. it's unexpected, and jonah isn't quite sure what to make of it.

jonah mulls over the new information, adam's words have thrown him for a loop. his body was... "wrong?" they had never heard of that before. then again, he's pretty sure MAD could induce hallucinations. he could have sworn he saw… something just before crashing the car, and he still hears whispers in his head, scratching at his thoughts like a cat at a door. maybe this was just another symptom of MAD? if it was, then adam needs to get out of that house, now.

jonah clears his throat, and speaks carefully, "listen, that- that's probably another symptoms of MAD, alright? just- just ignore it. it's not real, it's just in your head. focus on getting out of the house, don't think about anything except for getting out. i'm heading over, it won't take me long that long to get there. just… hang in there, okay? you got this. we'll find another car to hotwire, and get the fuck out, yeah?" adam sniffs on the other end, and holy shit, is he crying?

"…okay," adam's voice is hoarse, and jonah feels like shit for leaving him behind in the first place.

"good. now just… keeping talking, alright? talk to me as you get out, and don't stop talking. stay with me," jonah says as he pushes himself off of the car. he looks down the road and sighs. he has a long way to go.

[dr-docktor]

Local Docktor wakes up at 4:30 am, feverishly writes about his own OCs like he’s a young Victorian man dying from mysterious illness and he needs to write his will.

Ugh this group makes me so insane. I love when the team of misfits and outcasts and found family falls apart <3 I miss them every day

warning for a high school school exploding? Nobody dies but one of ‘em gets hurt pretty bad

Revon has always been an odd kid.

Deadly silent, even in his movements, the only thing that ever alerted people to his presence was the click of his cane against the stone tiles.

Yet here he lay on the floor, screaming at the top of his lungs. Almost louder than the ringing in his ears. Almost.

He was going to kill Chuzu personally. Doesn’t matter if his cane snapped in two in the ensuing events of the explosion. He was going to claw tooth and nail to watch the life drain out of those wide blue eyes.

Speaking of which… there’s the bastard! Standing just a few feet away, facing the massive fire that raged through the halls. The guy gently sways back and forth on his feet almost as if he were in a daze. He pays no mind to his friend’s screams, the motherfucker.

Gathering the courage to let his hands unclamp from around his ears, Revon could only stare in horror as the palms come away stained with blood.

He wonders if he stopped screaming. he can’t exactly hear it, but his mouth definitely feels closed. Whatever. That’s the least of his worries. He first needs to deal with the bastard who started this.

There’s some sick satisfaction to being right. Chuzu had been acting off for months and yet nobody listened to his concerns. Half a years worth investigation work incinerated in seconds. Revon no longer cares about the motive like he normally would. He no longer cares about the how or even about who could be the true mastermind pulling the strings. Instead his vision tunnels and all he can see is the betrayal of what he thought was one of his only friends.

“ABONHANDS!” He screeches, hauling himself to his feet using the wall for support. At least he thinks he yells. He still can’t really tell.

“CHUZU ABONHANDS, YOU COWARD! COME AND FACE ME!” No answer. The guy doesn’t even turn around.

Pure rage burns brightly in Revon’s chest, threatening to consume him entirely. He’s never been impulsive. But hey, his parents did always say Chuzu was a bad influence.

Revon weakly pushes his long hair out of his face, preparing to lunge at the man who ruined everything. The man who fueled his paranoia for months on end. The man who took their friendship, something so rare and so sacred for Revon, and quite literally blew it all up.

He shifts forward, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain flaring up in his hip. ‘This is for Salem, you dirty-‘

His thoughts are cut short by a hand grabbing the back of his shirt, yanking him back with a surprising amount of force.

Kiki.

God, Revon wishes he knew what she was saying. Knowing her, it would be something inappropriately funny. But her face is deadly serious, eyebrows knitted in worry as she realizes he can’t understand her. She pulls his arm across her shoulder, insisting he leans on her for support.

Reluctantly, he does. The seething rage in his chest finally starts to fizzle out, leaving room for exhaustion. There’s very few things more humiliating than being dragged around like a useless little rag doll by your friend. But for once in his goddamned life, Revon is willing to put his pride aside. After all, there’s much more pressing matters.

It’s not until Revon’s knees hit soft grass does the crushing weight of everything start to press down on his shoulders.

One tear. Then another. And then a third.

Sobbing and wheezing violently, he can’t help but wonder if this makes him weak.

[adorationamy]

Coming soon- “When You Least Expect It”

In celebration of the 2 year anniversary of Black Widow, and to celebrate Black Widow Fest 2023 with @quietlyimplode, I am pleased to present to you my next WIP. I’m not sure when I’ll actually start writing, but hopefully this will get you intrigued.  

Summary: Efficient. One less thing to worry about. The one thing that might matter more than a mission. Makes everything easier. Even killing.

Natasha V.O. They have a graduation ceremony. They sterilize you. I can’t have children.

We get a glimpse of a young Natasha lying on table in a hospital gown. Hands gently move her leg against a metal rail as another picks up a scalpel.

Madame B. V.O. The ceremony is necessary for you to take your place in the world.

CUT: Natasha and Coulson are attempting to escape a building after being ambushed.  Natasha is not her usual self. Coulson offers to help her, but she declines. Gunshots are heard in the background.

Guard: (shouting in a foreign language) Stop right there!

CUT: Natasha and Coulson turn around, guns drawn, however the latter is shaking.

CUT: a fight breaks out, but Natasha is taking longer than normal. In her distraction, a guard has her in a headlock. She struggles to break free, but a pain that she has been hiding for about a month is getting worse. Gritting her teeth, she finally manages to break free and take him down using her thighs.

Coulson: You OK?

Natasha leans against the wall, unable to stay standing.

Natasha: Coulson, I…

Coulson catches her before she can hit the ground. He brings her out and into the quinjet.

CUT: Natasha and Coulson are in the infirmary, but Natasha is declining medical attention.

Natasha: I want Clint!

Coulson: He’s coming, Natasha. He’s coming.

Natasha: (crying) It hurts!

Coulson tries to comfort her. Occasionally a medic comes in, but Natasha keeps refusing and desperately calls out for Clint. Clint finally arrives and goes right to her.

Clint: I’m here, Nat. I’m here.

Natasha: Please make it stop!

CUT: a medic prepares a syringe. Cut to someone picking up a phone, an open file with Natasha’s name is on their desk.

CUT: Natasha is lying down as a table moves forward. Clint and a doctor are watching.

Doctor: I’m sorry Natasha, but you are going to need surgery.

Cut to Natasha, who is locked in trance. Clint is trying to reach through to her.

Natasha V.O. I don’t want to. Please don’t make me.

Clint V.O. Natasha, focus on my voice. You’re not there.

CUT: Natasha is sitting on a rooftop, knees pulled to her chest. Clint comes to sit beside her and he drapes a blanket around her and gathers her into his arms.

Clint: I’ll be right there with you.

CUT: we see Clint helping Natasha change into a hospital gown. Cut to Clint by her bedside as she is prepped for surgery. She is trying to be strong, but fear is evident on her face.

Clint: I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.

CUT: an operating room with a table prepared with tools. A doctor is instructing Natasha on what is going to happen. She is put under.

We cut to Natasha lying in bed at Laura’s house; a stuffed animal is sitting in her lap.

Clint V.O.  It’ll be OK. We’ll get through this.

CUT: Laura tending to Natasha’s wound as Clint holds her. Tears are on her face.

Natasha: I don’t want to go back there!

[merelyplxyers]

@assfcrdays Arthur wasn't usually the type to micromanage - not unless he had reason to be. Sure, he had full trust in his staff's abilities; after all, he was picky with who he hired for the hotel, and he took pride in how every part of the etablishment ran smoothly to ensure the guests' satisfaction. However, sometimes an occasion arose that required him personally to ensure particularly special service was provided when necessary. Basim was a client that required such special attention. After all, the hotel wasn't hosting royalty every day. Arthur had ensured to prepare for any request the guest may have, communicating the requirements for the room as well as he possibly could before the man even had arrived. And now that Basim was here, Arthur took it as his personal mission to fulfil the guest's every desire. "I hope everything has been to your liking so far, Your... Majesty?" Mentally scolding himself for not being certain about the appropriate titles, the hotelier showed no sign of that as he kneeled between the other's legs, looking up at him with a subtle smile. He was going to provide full service, and that meant nearly nothing was off the table. Eager to show just how important the client's satisfaction was to him, Arthur carefully gripped at Basim's pants, pulling them down, until the man's cock sprang free from its confines. Truly worthy of a royal, Arthur noted mentally, humming with arousal as he leaned in and traced the length of the shaft with his tongue, paying close attention to what brought pleasure to the prince and how he could be of the most impressive service.

Basim loved travelling. Seeing other places, learning about different cultures and making friends were some of his favourite past times. And thanks to his more than generous trust fund, he could travel in style. This particular hotel had been recommended to him by a former lover he met in Zürich. And after telling his PA to arrange his next stay there, a part of him had half expected that his very long and extremely detailed list of requirements would not be met. Like the fact that he didn't want a normal couch, preferring a lower seating area with lots of pillows, or the fact he demanded art pieces to be replaced with islamic art. But from the moment he left the limousine to enter the place he knew that albeit this was not his usual place, people were not only respectful and kind, but even the smallest detail on his requirements list was not just fulfilled, it was exceeded by a long shot. And all thanks to Arthur Pence, who seemed to not only read the requirements but anticipated what else he could desire and provided before Basim could even realize that wish had settled in his bones. The suite was a real masterpiece, and he had felt right at home from the moment he walked in, feeling a calm wash over him that he usually only knew in one of the paradise gardens of his palace. And now that he had settled in and another kind of appetite had taken over, Arthur yet again was so eager to provide, even if it meant going down on his knees and sucking dick. "It is, Mr. Pence", he said, looking down at the ravishingly beautiful man between his legs, leaning back against soft pillows that had been chosen for his seating area. One of his hands was resting on his thick thigh, the other on the backrest, half hard dick revealed to the other. Basim let out a harsh breath between gritted teeth, not having fucked in over 24 hours putting him more on edge than usual.

"And behind these walls and while choking on my dick, I am Basim for you"

[writing-vault]

summary :⠀After coming back to the surface and being disconnected completely from Area Zero, AI Sada was ready to put the past behind her. But some things refuse to be put to rest, and she’s forced to confront her creators memories. The ashes of the bridges that she burned before she died.

content warnings :⠀major character death, violent imagery

fandom :⠀pokemon⠀( scarlet version )

word count : 2585

ao3 link :⠀link

Sada’s vision was blurred, a fine layer of white noise even further obscuring the scene in front of her. From the colours, she could tell it was a lab or research station down in Area Zero.

Why… Why am I back here? I- No. No, it’s just a memory… It has to be.

Snapping out of her thoughts the vague, blobby silhouette of a person began to form in her vision. They appeared to be typing something into a terminal before turning to face her. They began to speak, but white noise invaded her ears. Most of their speech was illegible, and their voice unrecognisable.

"...Is prepared... Eight." They said. Their voice sounded cold and commanding. Beneath the noise bombarding her ears, she could almost recognise it…

The… The professor? It sounds so close to it but…

Then Sada's own voice began echoing inside her head, ripping her out of her thoughts. That incessant white noise still obscured her words.

"...About this?... territorial... be safe..." She said, worry clearly lacing her voice. A heavy pit formed in her chest. Despite still not having a clear picture, she knew. She knew exactly what this was.

Where this was.

When this was.

Just as abruptly the buzzing in her ears stopped. Then her vision became crystal clear. The professor stood in front of her, masterball in hand. Inside a pristine Research Lab Four.

"Shut it! Ugh, you're sounding just like them." She snapped, gritting her teeth tightly. "Release subject eight. Now ." She demanded.

The moment those words left the professor's mouth, Sada's vision began to glitch. It was as if the memory was set to fast-forward. Everything went by too fast to process. 

The only thing she could recognise was red . It covered the floor. The professor's clothes. Her hands. It was everywhere.

Everything was red.

Sada bolted awake, letting out a scream as violent convulsions shot through her body. She ripped out her charger, stumbling and falling off the pull-out bed. Her gaze was set firmly on her hands. Despite not having lungs she was hyperventilating, looking frantically around the room.

She was greeted by the sight of everything looking… Normal. It was fine. It… Was all fine.

Sada’s gaze continued wandering around the room. Still only greeted by the familiar sights of the lighthouse lab. She slowly began to calm down, stumbling to sit back on the pull-out bed.

What in Arceus' name was that about? My memory recall must be bugged...

As she thought this, footsteps echoed down the stairwell. Shortly followed by the light flickering on.

“Mom? Are you alright?” Arven called out, standing at the bottom of the stairs, still dressed in his pyjamas.

“…It was merely an… Unpleasant… Memory, dear. You don’t need to concern yourself over it.” Sada replied, her voice still sounding broken up and shaky. He stayed silent, sitting next to her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, bringing her into a one-sided hug.

“We can discuss this more tomorrow… You still have school to attend. You should get back to bed…” She whispered, her convulsions finally coming to a stop.

"I can ask Penny about it, but I don't see how your memories would be connected to what she changed," Arven said, leaning back against the bedhead.

"It's just strange... I was dormant for years, but this never happened until now." Sada murmured, furrowing her brows. "But no matter. I appreciate that you're trying to help, Arven. Truly. But I don’t need you stressing about me. You’ve done that more than enough just over the past two months." She said, looking over to face the teen.

"You can’t just expect me to not worry about this, Mom. What’s the point of all that bullshit down in Area Zero? Fighting to let you live your own life, if you’re still stuck down there mentally?” He said, frustration entering his voice.

“It’s not that serious, Arven. It was merely a… Nightmare? I’m sure this will all pass once I figure out what’s bugged in my memory programming.” She said, completely dismissing his concern, as much as it rang true. 

“I’m still worried. It's just not like you to just suddenly act out like that, even when you’re stressed out. What kind of nightmare would send you screaming awake like that?” He sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get through to the AI anytime soon.

“I would… Prefer not to recall it…” She said, tightly gripping the sheets beside her. “Anyhow, you still have school tomorrow, Arven. You need to get ready for bed soon.“ She added, trying to quickly end the conversation.

“…Goodnight, Mom.” Arven sighed, leaning over, hugging her.

“Goodnight, Arven, rest well…” She whispered, reciprocating the gesture.

Everything was dark. Sada felt completely weightless as if she didn't even have a body. She just floated in an endless black pit. 

After what felt like an eternity, the sound of nails clicking against a keyboard filled her ears. She still couldn't see who it was or what was being typed, but she knew this had to be one of the professor's memories again.

Why can't I see?... It was unrecognisable but I still could last night...

Eventually, the monotonous clacking of the keyboard came to a stop. Followed shortly by a familiar voice.

"It should be functional if I installed it now. Then I can test the security protocols." The professor murmured to herself. Shortly after, the squeal of a creaky office chair rang out through the room as she left her desk.

Suddenly Sada was ripped out of the void and back into her body. Greeted by the professor standing in front of her.

“Perfect! Now all I need to do is some tests and it should be operational-“ The professor mumbled to herself. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sharp hiss of the lab door opening, revealing her husband at the door.

“How did I know you would be here…” Turo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stepped inside.

“This is my place of work, dear.” The professor replied sarcastically, turning around to face him.

“Your work was meant to be finished three hours ago, Sada.” He said bluntly, narrowing his eyes slightly in frustration.

“I was just doing some overtime. Overtime that finished the programming for my artificial assistant, might I add.” She said, waving off his concerns as she stepped aside to show off the robot.

“Overtime that made you more than two hours late to pick your son up from daycare.” He muttered.

“I thought it was your turn to pick Arven up.” She shrugged, leaning back against the desk.

“It’s been ‘my turn’ for three months now, Sada.” He replied, eye twitching ever so slightly as his frustration built further.

“Look I’ve just been buried in work recently.“ She said dismissively.

“And who’s fault is that? You force out anyone who dares to even slightly question you or the project-“ He argued, quickly cut off by the other.

“They were dragging down our progress.” She snapped, stepping towards him.

“They were raising completely reasonable concerns, Sada!” He yelled, finally reaching his boiling point.

“Regardless, I have a new assistant now. They’ll speed up development greatly with the removal of possible human error.” She huffed, trying again to dismiss her husband's protests.

“And will you actually spend time with your son once it’s operational and can take over for you?” He questioned flatly, staring the professor dead in the eyes as he spoke. The professor stayed silent for a moment before speaking again.

“…We’re approaching the last stretch of building the time machine, I can’t just-“ She tried to explain.

“I knew it. You just can’t get your head out of your work, can you?” He asked, cutting her off before she could finish, clenching his jaw tightly.

“This project is of the utmost importance, I’m not just going to abandon it.” She stated firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yet you’ll abandon our son.” He replied, a scowl forming on his face.

“He’ll understand when he’s older. This is bigger than just us, Turo. This will change the world! We’ll finally have all the data we could ever want on ancient pokemon. Bring extinct species-“ The professor rambled, distracted once again by her work.

“Have ever you stopped to consider the damage this will do to the present Sada?” Turo yelled, gesturing to the messy lab surrounding them. 

“You’re so fixated on the past, Sada. Have you not considered at all what will happen? The ramifications of trying to bring back violent and hostile ancient pokemon?” He stressed, clenching his hands tightly as he dropped his arm to his side.

“No scientific progress was ever made without sacrifice.” She replied, tensely gripping her sleeves as she sharply exhaled through her nose.

“So you’ll destroy Paldea’s entire ecosystem. Abandon your child. All in the pursuit of your own scientific endeavours?” He asked bitterly.

“This could be the birth of a completely new ecosystem! What don’t you understand, Turo?” She yelled, stepping closer to him as she tried to stress her point.

“I don’t understand. Why are you so determined to burn everything to the ground in the pursuit of reviving history.” He sighed, shaking his head lightly.

“Sacrifices have to be made for scientific progress!” She repeated, raising her voice further. “I don’t care if you or Arven or everyone in Paldea despises me, this is my life’s work, Turo!” She yelled, stomping her foot defiantly.

“ And no one is getting in the way of it! ” The professor screamed, losing any semblance of sense in her voice. Turo stepped back, eyes widening seeing his wife’s outburst, staying silent for a long moment.

“You aren’t the woman I married, Sada…” He said, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared in shock at the woman. “How can you be so callous and selfish?” He questioned, no longer sounding angry but confused. 

”This isn’t for the good of science, this is just a vanity project, isn’t it?” He questioned flatly.

“So what if it is, Turo? This will change the world!” She snapped.

“This is useless. You’re never going to change until it’s too late.” Turo sighed, looking down at the gold ring on his finger and back at her.

“This is the end. I hope you see some sense before you make an irreversible mistake.” He said, taking off his wedding band and placing it in her hand. Then he turned and left the lab without another word.

Sada woke up abruptly. Light convulsions ran through her as she tried to regain her bearings. She stared up at the ceiling, silently running back over the memory. The first bridge that her creator burned after she was made.

Her convulsions quickly became worse thinking about Turo. Crying without any tears to shed. After a few minutes of laying there, she dragged herself out of bed, thoughts racing through her mind.

I need to find a way to apologise to him. For everything. Arceus knows how much the professor hurt him before I was activated…

But I’m just an AI copy of her, there’s no way he would believe any apology that came from my mouth.

He’s probably moved on anyway, it’s useless reopening old wounds.

Soon Sada reached the upstairs bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. Physically, she looked extremely distinct from her creator. Given the missing eye and crystalline vitiligo dotted around her skin.

But as she stared into her reflection she only saw the professor looking back at her. The professor and all the relationships she burned to the ground. As much as she tried to make amends and fix things, the AI would never be free from her creator's sins. 

Deep down she was still the same person as her creator. The same person that destroyed her family’s lives and almost destroyed Paldea. Like a heavy chain that no matter what she did she couldn’t take off.

Suddenly the light flickered on, revealing Arven in the doorway. He lazily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, staring blearily at Sada.

“Mom? What are you doing up so early in the morning?” Arven asked, yawning groggily as he stepped inside.

“Do you think I can change, Arven? That despite everything your mother implanted into me… I can be a better person than her?” She whispered, not acknowledging the teen. He tilted his head in confusion, stepping further into the room.

“What are you going on about, Mom?” He asked, tilting his head quizzically.

“Humans' personalities are defined by their experiences. And I have all the professor's memories and experiences implanted in me… So by that logic. I’m no better than the professor, am I?“ She continued, still not facing him. Her convulsions started to grow worse.

“No… No, don’t answer that… I shouldn’t have brought this up with you.” She added quickly, shaking her head as she finally turned to face him.

“No, Mom this is serious. You can’t just keep repressing your problems-“ Arven said. He tentatively stepped closer, holding out his hand to comfort her.

“This isn’t your responsibility!” She snapped suddenly, her voice breaking up like back in the lab. He quickly retracted his hand, backing up away from her.

“I’m the one who should be taking care of andsupporting you! What kind of a failure of a mother would I be forcing my child to bear mymental health problems?” She continued, convulsions steadily consuming her movements completely. 

“But you need help Mom!” Arven snapped back, “Even if the nightmares are just a bug. Do you not see anything wrong with how you see yourself?“ He asked desperately.  

“I’m just an AI, Arven!” She screamed, completely breaking down. Her voice wasn’t even human anymore. Reverting completely to how it was when the Paradise Protection Protocol took over.

“My programming may be advanced, but what guarantee is there that I can actually change?That I’m truly a better person then her?” She stressed, freezing completely upon seeing how worried Arven was.

Silence hung thickly in the air between them. It was an excruciatingly long moment before Sada spoke up again.

“I’m sorry… That was completely out of line. But my point still stands, Arven.” She whispered, regaining some sense of composure. There was another long silence before Arven replied.

“Would human Sada have shut the time machine down?” He asked quietly. Sada stayed silent, only tilting her head in response.

“You can’t say you’re a carbon copy of her when you told me exactly how to shut the time machine.” He said flatly.

“That was a purely logical decision, Arven.” She replied matter-of-factly.

“A logical decision that Sada was so opposed to she made you just short of murder people to stop it happening.” He added, earning a guilty glance in response.

“If you were human Sada 2.0 do you think you could just shut it down with no problem?” He asked flatly. Sada opened her mouth to respond, but couldn’t find the words. He was right.

“You do have a point, I suppose. I… I just need to think things over. I’m sorry for venting my problems to you like this.” She sighed shaking her head lightly.

“It’s fine, Mom. I’ll talk to Penny after class for you and see if she can do anything about those random memories.” He said, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you, Arven.” She said, gently embracing the teen in return.

I hope you enjoyed reading, likes and reblogs are extremely appreciated!

next chapter : link

[whoneedsapublisher]

Burning Bridges and Other Acts of Arson

Words: ~2100

Summary: Akiha Tohno is tired of being more Tohno than Akiha. She's lost one brother, and the other ran away with one of her maids. So if two of the Tohno children are gone… why does the third have to stay?

Also on Ao3

********************

Akiha stood with her hands behind her back, staring up at the imposing structure before her. 

“Everything is prepared, Lady Akiha,” Kohaku said from her right, a small but unmistakable cardboard box resting on her outstretched hands.

“You’ve ensured it won’t spread from the main building?” Akiha said, not looking away from the house.

“I cleared away everything near the house and soaked everything in a set of rings around it,” Kohaku said. “Even if a spark jumps past the first ring, it won’t spread.”

“Excellent,” Akiha said. “It wouldn’t do to destroy the whole forest over this.”

“I agree, Lady Akiha,” Kohaku said. “And my poor herb garden would go up like smoke.”

Akiha’s brow furrowed. “I wouldn’t mind that being destroyed,” she said curtly, and Kohaku let out an exaggerated whine. “Although I shudder to think what would happen to the town if the smoke from that fire blew downwind.”

“Let’s not dwell on unpleasant subjects,” Kohaku said, deftly dodging an explanation of the doubtless dire consequences.

“But that’s what we’re doing, is it not?” Akiha said. “One last time. We’re going to dwell on all the dark things in this house before they’re gone.”

“...They’re already gone, Lady Akiha,” Kohaku said. Her voice strained to meet its usual exuberance, but fell short.

“No,” Akiha said.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, they were blazing with fury and hatred.

“I thought that too, for a while,” she said. “I thought that with my father dead, with SHIKI dead, with all those insufferable parasites thrown out and cast back to their own estates, that perhaps this house could be clean. That it could be my home.”

She grit her teeth.

“But it will never be,” she growled. “I’ve tried for years, Kohaku. But this place will never be my house. It will always be the Tohno Manor. It will always be the cage that I was raised in. It will always be the kingdom of a family of mixed blood conspiracists who plotted death and conquest in the shadows. It will always be the den of a monster who ruined the lives of children he stole for his own ends.”

Kohaku said nothing. Not even so much as flinching at Akiha’s mention of Makihisa’s crimes.

“Every painting on the wall, I have a memory,” Akiah continued. “A time when father screamed at me. A time where I was punished for daring to be a child. For foolishly acting as if I was a person, rather than an heir. A time where I was dragged before an ancestor and scolded for dishonouring them. When I walk down from my room to the kitchen for breakfast, I pass through under the gaze of dozens of judgemental ghosts, who critique my every step for its posture and form. When I sit at my place, every piece of silverware recalls the times it saw my hand struck for reaching for the wrong fork. I live surrounded by the loathsome echos of the same hateful people that I tried to drive out.”

Akiha’s fists clenched so tightly that she could feel the tightness in her skin as her knuckles bleached white.

“I see the door of father’s study and remember in perfect clarity the day I found out what he was doing to you. I see that despicable expression on his face, where he regretted only that I discovered it. I see the door to his bedroom and am filled with thoughts of the things that happened within.”

“Lady Akiha, you’re not responsible,” Kohaku said. It broke Akiha’s heart how unconcerned she sounded, how easily she spoke normally, even cheerfully about it. “He was your father, and the head of the house. You were a child yourself. I’m amazed as how quickly you stopped him, if anything.”

“As talented as you might be at lying, Kohaku,” Akiha said, finally turning to her. “Not even you can make it believable that I was quick enough.”

Kohaku’s smile was unwavering, her eyes vacant.

“It wouldn’t have been possible,” Kohaku said. “We were both powerless children when it became too late.”

Akiha turned back to the house, unable to bear looking at those empty eyes anymore.

“I see SHIKI,” she continued. “Who I was always uneasy around, twisted into a monster, being dragged screaming into a basement to disappear forever. I look into ancient mirrors and see a monster looking back, eagerly waiting for me to sink into the history of this place and become what every head before me has.”

Her gaze softened, for a brief moment.

“...When I gaze out of a window, sometimes I imagine my brother’s face,” she said, slightly wistfully. 

The respite was brief. Akiha’s gaze hardened once more and when she spoke again her voice was harsh. “I never imagine him tapping at a window for me to let him inside,” she said. “Every time, he extends a hand for me to leave. To escape, if only briefly, if only to larger cage my cage is nestled within.To stop being a Tohno and to be Akiha, for a few precious, childish hours.”

“Leaving the manor won’t leave your blood behind,” Kohaku said.

“No,” Akiha said. “It won’t. I may be the last generation who will have to suffer this bloodline, but I will have to suffer it for so long as I live.”

“I imagine the other families won’t be happy to hear that you don’t plan to have children,” Kohaku said. “Won’t they pester you with more fianceés?”

“I don’t imagine they’ll have the chance,” Akiha said, a vicious smile on her face. “After all, Akiha Tohno will tragically perish in the fire that destroyed her childhood home. They’ll even find her blackened bones in the ruins. And when they come for her dental records, they’ll find those to be a match too.”

“You know, Lady Akiha, that was quite a lot of work,” Kohaku said, sighing a little. “Do you really think they’ll be that thorough?”

“This family didn’t come to the position it hold by being willing to let go of things,” Akiha said coldly, and then that vicious smile returned. “But my, won’t they be upset when they read the late Akiha Tohno’s will, and find that not only is there no successor, but that what wealth the main family still controls will pass mostly to charity, with an infuriatingly generous bequeathment to her adopted brother and former servant for them to help start their new life together. And one for her current servant too, of course, but given that she will have also perished in that tragic event, her share will naturally go to her sister, as her only known relative.”

“It’s very convenient that the late Lady Akiha put so many measures in place to ensure that her will would be held by third parties and publicised,” Kohaku said. “Otherwise I imagine the branch families might see fit to “lose” it.”

“Indeed,” Akiha said. “But I’d like to see them try when it’s on the front page of the newspaper later this week.”

She took one last deep breath, and then reached out and took the matchbox from Kohaku.

Drawing two matches out of the box, she extended one to Kohaku.

“Kohaku,” she said. “...You can’t tell me this house doesn’t mean anything to you.”

Kohaku smiled placidly at her. “Lady Akiha, it’s just a building,” she said.

Akiha fixed her piercing gaze on Kohaku, as if waiting for her to crack under scrutiny.

But Kohaku didn’t waver. She did nothing more than wait patiently for Akiha to finish.

“Fine,” Akiha said. “Then consider this an order. Do this with me.”

“As you command, Lady Akiha,” Kohaku said, striking the match and holding it at the ready. “On three, then?”

Akiha struck her own match. “One,” she said. “Two. Three.”

She flicked the match into the gasoline thick on the ground and watched impassively as it burst into violent flame. Another burst came from her right as Kohaku’s match landed as well.

She’d picked such a flashy method on purpose. With her “dead”, one of her hateful relatives would be the new beneficiary on the insurance. Some contract juggling pen-pusher in the Kugamine branch, most likely. Ensuring that it was obvious this was arson would make it much harder to claim insurance- especially when police reports put her as the most likely suspect.

But it wasn’t all practicality. Seeing the flames burst to life to quickly, hungrily licking at the manor as they raced through the halls and up the coated wall… it was satisfying to see it roar to life so quickly, in a way that a more natural blaze wouldn’t.

There was a crash from within. Doubtless an expensive vase toppling from a crumbling table.

Kohaku flinched slightly.

Akiha glanced over to see her staring at the blaze, transfixed, her eyes boring into a curtain that was curling up like a spent cigarette as it burned away.

“...Hisui always used to be so cross when that curtain got dirty,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “She said… she said it was hard to clean because of how old it was, and how easily it stained…”

Akiha said nothing as Kohaku’s eyes slowly dragged themselves up the building, fixating on a window looking out onto the grounds.

Time passed in silence as the flickering flames danced behind that window until, finally. It shattered.

Kohaku lifted her hand, almost not seeming to realize she was doing it, her fingers extended as if she was trying to reach for something.

“...I… used to watch the three of you through that window…” she whispered, crumpling to her knees as her hand fell back to her side.

Akiha put an arm around her shoulders.

“You’re not there any more,” she said. “No one will be there ever again.”

Kohaku numbly stared up at the windowframe, watching in disbelief. Tears started to pour down her cheeks.

When the fire finally calmed itself, there was barely anything left. Akiha and Kohaku had retreated to the gate when the house had started groaning, and in the end, more than half of it had fully collapsed, damaged supports taking down entire wings of the building as falling rooms crashed into each other. The shallow husk of some parts of the house still stood, charred black wood framing the shape of what used to be rooms, standing above the piles of ash and debris.

Kohaku was trembling as Akiha gently helped her into the passenger seat of the nondescript car hidden around back. It was a cold night, but Akiha doubted it was the chill that was making Kohaku shiver.

Still, she turned up the heat in the car as soon as the engine came on, pulling out from the hidden driveway and onto the road out of town.

“Lady Akiha…”

It was the first time that Kohaku had spoken since the window had broken. Akiha had already told Kohaku that she didn’t need to call her “Lady” Akiha anymore, but now didn’t seem like the time to bring it up.

“Is it… really gone?” Kohaku asked. “I won’t… I won’t wake up and be back inside it, right?”

“Yes,” Akiha said. “It’s really gone.”

Kohaku fell silent again.

“No,” she said quietly, after a moment. “Not entirely.”

Akiha pursed her lips.

“It’s still inside us, isn’t it?” Kohaku murmured.

“Perhaps,” Akiha said. “But it can’t live there forever. And it can’t grow inside anyone else.”

Kohaku slumped down in her seat.

“Now then,” Akiha said, as the streetlamps outside the Tohno Manor grew smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. “Let’s see if our new place ends up working better as our home, shall we?”

Akiha had meant to leave her wealth behind. And she had, to some extent, abandoning billions of yen even beyond the value of the mansion. Truth be told, though, when she’d seen what a “normal” two person apartment in Tokyo looked like, she decided that she could fudge things just a little bit. The place she’d settled on wasn’t exactly in the highest rent building in the city or anything, but, well… even if it was decidedly third rate, a penthouse in a nice enough neighbourhood wasn’t the sort of thing she would have been able to afford without inherited money.

Bah. Call it a settlement for Kohaku’s mistreatment. Both of their new names were on the deed, after all. Akiha had insisted on that. 

Kohaku managed a weak smile. 

“If it doesn’t, Lady Akiha, I wouldn’t recommend burning it down. The neighbours will complain."

Tsukihime post-canon, after Shiki and Hisui have left the Tohno manor and begun to move on with their lives, Akiha and Kohaku decide to burn the manor to the ground together for some semblance of catharsis. Ideally it starts with Kohaku just indulging Akiha's whims like she thinks she's 'supposed' to, but when the fire actually starts her 'doll' lie to herself starts to completely fall apart.

HO ho ho!

[ddarker-dreams]

Debt Collection. Yan Childe x Reader [SMUT]

Tags: Mild dubcon ?, hate fucking, power bottoming, creampie, dirty talk, AFAB reader and degradation.  Word count: 1.6k. Note: this could be considered apart of contractual obligations universe or something on the side. i’m not sure where it’d officially line up in the stories tl, i just wanted to write some sin .

This is the only plausible option left.

That’s what you told yourself when you walked into his office, what you told you told yourself when removing your clothes and when you climbed into his lap. He called it special treatment. Whispering huskily into your ear that you should be grateful he likes you so much, that anyone else would be dead in your position. The Fatui are not known for their leniency with debts. People go missing, their neighbors too frightened to question what might’ve happened to them.

Childe seems happy enough to remind you of this like it might make you feel better somehow. It doesn’t. All you want is for the stress on your business to be alleviated, for things to go back to how they used to be before him, even if it is wishful thinking.

Whatever his feelings are for you, you don’t care in the slightest. You’re doing this to get it over with.

“Mm, just like that,” Childe hisses out through clenched teeth, fingernails digging harshly into either side of your waist. “Take all of me in.”

Everything is so warm. His fevered touches, your face, every inch of your bare body. You do as he tells you, biting your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Sinking down onto his dick, you despise the lascivious noises it makes from how terribly wet he’s made you. Childe’s gaze never falters from your own, watching unblinkingly as you take in every inch of his throbbing length. His grip on you tightens, steadying your trembling body, harsh pants leaving both of you.

You’re grateful for his lack of comments, already humiliated enough as is. The silence doesn’t last when he fills you completely, your walls slowly adjusting to his length. Even with the proper preparation, his considerable size causes mild pain. Each deep breath you take does little to steady your nerves. The weight of Childe’s stare is impossible to ignore.

Why is he looking at you like this? Why can’t he just silently get off and let it be over with? The passion burning in his ocean blue eyes is unmistakable, the waves of it threatening to drown you.

“Good girl,” he exhales, affectionately running a hand through your tousled hair. You let him do as he pleases. The odd intimacy behind what’s meant to be a tumble in the dark isn’t lost on you. “Now, you remember what I wanted, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, I do.” You confirm breathlessly, more blood rushing to your face upon remembering his vulgar instructions. Childe cups your face in his hands and presses a chaste kiss to your lips, pulling on your bottom lip with his teeth when he moves away. This is the first time he’s kissed you, you realize, lips tingling. He does it with such ease, as if the two of you were lovers. The thought alone is enough to make bile rise in your throat.

“I’m afraid my memory is failing me. Be a dear and remind me of what you’re going to do.”

Of course, he’d make this as difficult as he can for you, you shouldn’t have expected anything different. The lascivious words discussed during your agreement reverberate in your head, and you push past your hesitations to repeat them. “I’m going… going to fuck myself on you.”

You feel his cock twitch excitedly inside you and shiver. He urges you on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And?”

“And… I’ll make you cum inside of me.”

“Get to it then.” Childe leans back into his chair, pleased so far with your submission. You take a deep breath, raising your hips up, wincing at how he stretches out your walls. When nothing but the tip of his dick remains inside you, you slowly sink onto him again, earning a low noise of approval. He really isn’t going to help you, is he? While full of him, you gyrate your hips, getting yourself more accustomed to his size. Childe’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, looking down at you through thick eyelashes.

“I didn’t expect for you to take your time like this,” he chuckles breathlessly, voice guttural and husky. “Not that I’m, ngh, complaining, I could watch this all day.”

You furrow your eyebrows, indignant at his comments. That’s the last thing you wanted...! You wanted to get this over with, to push past the embarrassment he’s inflicted on you. Spurred on by his comments, you raise and lower your hips onto his cock faster, the sensation of being stretched less painful than before. Childe lets out a breathy moan at your increased pace. No longer willing to hold himself back, he thrusts his hips up, throwing his head back at how good you feel around him. You can already tell the area he’s gripping will leave bruises. Hopefully, they can be covered up so questions don’t arise.

“Do you… do you know how much I think about you?” Childe breathes out, each word more strained than the last. The sound of skin on skin fills his office, a far cry from the normal business that goes on in here. Not that he cares in the slightest. You don’t want to know the answer, honestly, but he gives it to you regardless.

“Mm, I’ve thought about it even when we talk,” Childe confesses, head throwing back as he bucks himself up to meet your hips. “What you’d feel like… all the cute little noises you’d make when I made you pleasure yourself on my dick.”

Childe’s words strike a chord deep within you, your face getting even redder than before. You feel yourself getting closer to a release and feel frustrated by your lack of self-restraint. Childe’s chest rumbles with a low moan at how your walls tighten around him. He’s half wanting to fuck you against his desk, losing any shreds of patience that he’s somehow managed to hold on to. But knowing that you’re working oh so hard to make him cum is too tantalizing to pass up. He sees your reluctance fade into desire, no longer able to deny carnal pleasure. You’re enjoying this as much as he is but just don’t want to admit it.

He leans forward, wrapping his soft lips around your nipple and biting it gently, laughing breathlessly at the noise you let out. Childe’s hand that was on your hip goes to your chest, greedily playing with the soft mounds of flesh. He adores how you taste, how lovely and exposed you are before him now. All of the efforts that went into procuring you earned him such a ravishing sight.

Spurred on by his touches, you can no longer hold yourself back. Your movements get sloppier as you chase your own release, chest bouncing as you hold onto him for balance. Childe lets out a content noise at this. His strength is commendable, your hazy mind notices, as now he’s the one lifting you up and bringing you back down onto his cock. Strength all but gone, you lean forward, hoping to muffle your moans against his glistening neck. Your walls clench around him, a high pitch noise leaving your lips when you cum.

Childe wants nothing more than for you to remember this. For you to remember him. “That’s... right, [First]. Don’t ever forget that I’m the one who made you feel this good.”

You can barely register his words, mind far too foggy to think of anything. Curses start to leave his lips, from a foreign tongue which you assume to be his native language. His cock thrusts upwards inside you as Childe desperately seeks out his own release. Your energy is all but gone, leading you to feel silently grateful that he’s capable of getting himself off inside you without much help. A surprised yelp leaves your lips as he tugs your hair back, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“I want you to see this,” Childe manages to get out through gritted teeth. A throaty groan leaves him, hips stuttering. “Watch me as I cum inside you.” 

Childe releases himself inside you, thrusting up as far as he can before stilling himself. You feel his hot seed fill you up, Childe intent on dumping all of himself as far inside you as he can. He pulls you further down onto him, head thrown back and panting as your walls milk his throbbing cock. You wince at the foreign feeling, the implications of him cumming inside you nerve-wracking. Finally, he lifts his head, a slight flush on his own face. 

The room is silent, save for your panting. He keeps one hand on your already bruised hip and moves the other to cup your face. Childe’s eyes soften as you try your best to regain yourself. 

It feels hot, sticky, and humiliating. You look around, looking anywhere that isn’t at Childe. He lets out an airy laugh at your obvious embarrassment, much to your displeasure, and you shoot him a hopefully threatening look. It has the opposite effect as intended. Childe coos at the endearing sight, tracing his fingers over your body.

“That’s... all you wanted, right? Can I go now?” 

Childe shakes his head and you frown. “Mm... not yet, no. I’d say this only covers a portion of the debt, sweetheart.” 

You knit your eyebrows together, indignation flaring, and go to slap him against your better judgment. Childe snickers, catching your wrist with ease and places unexpectedly soft kisses against your knuckles.

“Relax, relax, I was kidding,” Childe winks and you roll your eyes. “Just know this won’t be the last time I fuck you.” 

“You’re... utterly shameless.” 

“Maybe I am, but what can I say? Now that I’ve gotten a taste of you, I might just be addicted.” 

[pepper-up-potion]

Humor me (George Weasley x fem!reader)

Summary: Reader can't stand George Weasley but over time she realizes he might be a good addition to her life.

Warnings: crying, angst, let me know if I missed any.

Word count: 5.5k (this is my longest fic so far!)

A/n: I still don't know how to feel about this. A part of me likes it and a part of me feels it could be better. This is my first enemies to lovers and it was very very fun.

———

“Thanks (y/n)! I can always count on you, you’re a lifesaver.” Shouts Neville as he runs down the hall and towards his next class. (Y/n) had helped him put healing salve and a bandage on his cut hand.

“Anytime!” She smiles as she watches him stumble away. She pulls out her book and sits back down on the windowsill.

“Humour me.” Says a foreign voice.

She looks up frowning. “I’m sorry?” She asks politely.

“When was the last time you did something for yourself?” Asks the red-haired boy.

“What are you talking about? I’m doing that right now.” She points to her book: Charms for first years

“That’s weird because I could’ve sworn you were in my charms class and not in first year.” He argues, shoving his hand in his pockets and clicking his tongue.

“Well I’m helping out a first-year next period but I enjoy doing that so I am doing something for myself.” She explains, slightly irritated.

“You can’t be serious?” He waits but she offers no response. She only lifts her nose at him. “That is not taking time for yourself. That’s preparing to help someone else.”

Her nostrils flare as she abruptly snaps her books shut. She shoves it into her bag before swinging it over her shoulder. She steps towards George. She suddenly realizes how tall he is. She gulps before placing a hand on her hip and pointing a finger at him.

“Listen here, helping other people is a very noble thing and if I wish to spend my free time doing that, I should not have to explain myself.”

“Ah, so you admit that you spend your free time helping other people rather than doing something for yourself?”

George smirks at her and she wants to slap it off his stupid pretty face.

“Wha-? No.” She huffs. “I don’t know why I’m arguing this with someone I hardly know but what I mean to say is that yes, it’s demanding and tedious but it’s also rewarding and the most gratifying thing I could ever do, so I believe I am doing something for myself. You just don’t get it because you spend all your time playing stupid pranks on everyone.” She snaps before pulling the strap of her bag further onto her shoulder and walking away. Normally she would feel bad for saying something like that to someone but for some reason she felt George could take it.

“So when will I see you again?” George shouts down the hall.

“I have to go!” She shouts back.

“I’ll see you in class then. Or maybe in the halls again.” He continues.

“Goodbye!” She turns the corner and speeds as far away from George as possible, steam practically fuming from her ears.

———

“Hey (y/n) could I just copy your homework before class? I didn’t have time to do it what with quidditch practice and all.” Asks Angelina.

(Y/n) nods and pulls out her answers, stands and walks to her seat, passing them to her. As (y/n) walks back she sees George slide into the spot next to hers. She grunts before stomping to her seat.

“ ‘Morning.” He sings, kicking his feet on the desk. She rolls her eyes and pushes his feet off, offering no other greeting. Now this is saying something, (y/n) always greets everybody. He laughs a little before turning to his bag and pulling out his textbook.

“Ark, couldn’t you go sit somewhere else?” She asks with a look of disgust.

George shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I could, but I’d like to think we’d make a good team and I’d like to test that theory.” He waves a pointed index as if to emphasize his point.

She shudders at the thought of having to work with him. It’s very likely they will, it often happens in potions class. (Y/n) is at the top of the class and she doubts Snape would have any objection to George working with her since she could easily bring up his grade. She sighs as Snape walks in and starts the lecture portion of the class.

“You will have the remaining hour to make your hiccoughing solution. Work with the person next to you.” With a wave of his arms everyone starts opening their textbook and discussing the potion.

To her surprise, George is really good at potions. Logically it makes sense because him and Fred are always creating new things but she never really thought it transferable to school. She watches, a little stunned as George quickly and skillfully goes through the steps of the potion. For the first time since she can last remember, she sits back instead of running the group. George occasionally asks her to cut something or extract oil from a root. She doesn’t argue, it’s sort of nice being told what to do rather than making all the decisions. She doesn’t tell him and refuses to think more of it because that’s not her proper role. She’s the leader, she’s the helper. Maybe this once she’ll let it slide, give herself a break.

Once the bell rings they gather their books and George finally speaks of other things than the potion.

“Relaxing isn’t it?” She tilts her head in confusion. “Not having to take care of others for once.” He continues.

Oh no he didn’t. He just ruined it. He took her small guilty moment of peace and crushed it. “You hardly let me do anything! What was I supposed to do? Fight you?”

George shrugs. “You could’ve.” He winks at her and she lets out an angry moan.

“Ark!” She turns on her heels and walks out of the class without another word.

“Same time next week?” She hears him shout but she’s already in the hallway and simply ignores him.

———

“You know you could give that to a house-elf and they could take care of that for you.” Says George as he leans into the door frame and watches (y/n) clean the chalkboard in the defence against the dark arts classroom.

“Well I don’t need to be taken care of, I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own thank you very much” she spits back at him.

George and her are acquaintances at best. It’s been a month since they’ve first spoken to each other. Since then he seems to always be around her. Sitting next to her in class, offering to help her with her books in the hall. She’s never asked for him to be there or to share his opinion. Yet he’s there and very verbal about his thoughts.

He steps into the class and sits in the front row. He bounces his leg under the desk and leans back into the chair. He looks nervous but she can tell he’s trying to cover it up.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Waiting for Umbridge.” He points up the stairs at the closed door of her office. “I got detention.” He adds.

“What did you do?” She stops cleaning the board and sets the cleaning potion on the desk next to George.

“Gave a ton tongue toffee to Filch. His tongue was four feet long when Umbridge found him.” He chuckles to himself, remembering Umbridge’s reaction.

For the first time ever, (y/n) laughs in front of George. She tries to hold it in but it slips past her. George first looks surprised but soon he’s laughing with her.

“Glad to see someone is standing up to them.” She shakes her head. “Umbridge really is a horrible person. I can't believe all the mean things she’s doing to the students.” Her face is sad. George can see how much she cares for the other students.

“Well, would you look at that? We actually agree on something.” He crosses his arms and smirks at her. “Does this mean we're friends?” He asks.

She barks out a loud laugh. “Don’t get ahead of yourself Weasley.” She grabs her bag and walks out without another word. She can feel George’s gaze following her until she steps into the hall and out of sight. She wonders why her cheeks feel so hot suddenly.

———

(Y/n) is tutoring Seamus Finnigan in the library. They’re whispering over a book when George spots them. He smiles and beelines for their table.

“Mind if I sit here.” He asks, holding onto the chair in front of them. They both look up at him. Seamus smiles and reaches out his hand for a fist bump. (Y/n) rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out.

“Yeah mate, it’s no problem.” Says Seamus.

“No, you may not. It is very much a problem.” She hisses. Seamus looks at her, shocked by the bitterness in her voice.

“Blimey (y/n), I’ve never heard you so angry before.” He stuns.

She laughs nervously. He’s right, she normally doesn’t talk to people like that. The only exception to the rule is George. She grits her teeth and pastes a smile before looking at George.

“Of course you can sit here George. Any friend of Seamus is a friend of mine.” She somehow manages to sound sweet and somewhat sincere. George raises his eyebrows in surprise. He quickly recollects himself and takes a seat before she changes her mind.

“So, going back to charms. Can you tell me the definition of the substantive charm?” She asks Seamus.

“How long have you been doing this?” George interrupts.

Seamus grabs (y/n)’s arm and reads her watch. He whistles dramatically. “Crickey, it’s been an hour and fifteen minutes. I think we should call it a day.” He grabs his book and bag and gets up. “Thanks again (y/n). See you next week.” And with that, he was off.

(Y/n)’s jaw clenches as she looks from the now empty chair to George.

“Why?” She groans. “Why would you do that?”

“This is great. He got his help and you get a break. What do you say we go down to the dungeon and pull a prank on Malfoy?” He beams at her, pleased with his idea.

She gets the sudden urge to scream. Who does he think he is? Coming into her life and ruining everything. It is quite likely that Seamus won't do as well on the quiz as if he had stayed for the extra fifteen minutes she had planned and now she has to go deal with Hermione who wanted to rant about Ron. Something which she had very much been putting off. She takes a long, deep breath before looking at George again. The urge to scream has faded with the breath but the look on his face makes her see red.

“Could you please, please, find someone else to annoy. I don’t have time for this and you’re really starting to test my patients.” She pleads.

George’s face drops, evidently displeased by her response. He stands from his chair and puts his bag strap over his shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll leave.” He surrenders. There is a pause like he’s debating between leaving or adding another word. To (y/n)’s dissatisfaction, he continues to speak. “Anytime you need someone who doesn’t need help tutoring or homework to copy or healing salve, you know where to find me.”

She laughs loudly making everyone turn to look at her. “Pff yeah okay.” She dismisses, and with that George is turning away and walking out of the library.

She hates the sad feeling that settles in her chest. It’s like it’s telling her she wants him to stay. She rolls her eyes and swears to herself, gathering her things and heading to Hermione’s aid.

No matter how hard she tries not to, she spends the rest of the day thinking about George. His stupid face keeps popping into her head. What does he know? She likes when people ask for help. She is happy being the person people can turn to. She can’t understand what George thinks is wrong with that. Maybe he’s just a horrible person. It’s much easier to tell herself than to think there could be something wrong with her.

———

A week later (y/n) is knocking on Susan Bones’ door and stepping in before hearing a welcome.

“Merlin! I can’t stand him!” She shouts once in her best friend’s dorm room. Susan looks up from her book with her brows knitted.

“Who?” She asks while shutting her book and sitting up.

“George!” She states looking at Susan like she should have known. She shows no sign of further understanding (y/n)’s dilemma.

“Why?” She asks hesitantly. (Y/n) stomps to Susan’s bed and plops onto it.

“First he’s everywhere meddling into my life like it’s his business and now, radio silence.” She adds nothing more, leaving Susan even more confused.

“And that’s a problem because…”

(Y/n) sits up and flails her arms in the air. “Well, why did he make me question myself like that and then just vanish?” She exclaims exasperated.

Susan gapes, further confused. “But, didn’t you ask him to leave you alone?”

“Ark! That’s not the point!” She gets up and stomps out of the room. Susan blinks and looks around the room stunned even though there is no one to share the confusion with.

A moment later (y/n) is back into the room. “What on earth did he mean by if ever you want someone who doesn’t need help, you know where to find me?” She puts her hands on her hips and waits for her friend’s answer. Susan’s eyes light up and she smiles slightly. Now it’s (y/n)’s turn to look confused.

“He said that?” Asks Susan with a hopeful tone.

“Wha- I- Well yes he did but-.” She stops. Susan has left her stunned, she’s too confused to debate.

Susan’s smile grows wider. “Have you heard about Dombledors army?” She asks.

(Y/n) scrunches her nose. “No. What does that have to do with this?”

“Well I think you should come to our next meeting.” Her smile is mischievous, (y/n) hates it.

———-

The next day Susan takes (y/n) to the seventh floor. She stops in the middle of the hall and passes back and forth in front of a stone wall. Soon a door appears in front of them and (y/n) smiles, amazed by the castle's secrets.

Susan is the first to walk in waving at a few people near the door. Once (y/n) follows through the room goes silent. Harry finally walks up to them, hand stretched out.

“Welcome to the army.” He says confidently. She looks to Susan who gives her an encouraging nod. She finally accepts Harry’s hand with a small yet nervous smile.

As she looks around the room she feels a pair of eyes on her. She turns to find George looking at her with a neutral face. She lets out a little screech and turns back to Susan.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to be here!” (Y/n) whispers with a panicked tone.

“Well if I did you wouldn’t have come.” She states simply before walking off to talk with one of the other girls.

“Alright everyone. I think we’ll get started.” Announces Harry. Everyone goes quiet and they quickly form a half-circle around him. She sees a tall man settle next to her in her peripheral. She can just make out a flash of red hair. Her heart starts beating at an unruly pace.

“Today’s focus is on stunning. Nigel and I are going to do a demonstration so watch closely.” Everyone moves to the sides of the room whispering excitedly.

(Y/n) claps her hand over her mouth as she watches Harry fly backwards after being stunned by Nigel. She lets out a relieved sigh when Harry sits back up.

“I’d like to see you do that.” Whispers George into her ear. She jumps a little as his hot breath on her neck sends a shiver down her spine.

She turns to look at him. She has no snarky answer. She just gapes at him in surprise.

“I’d like to see you stand up for yourself for once.” He adds. She huffs in shock.

“I-“ She starts but Harry cuts her off. “Who wants to go next?” He asks.

“(Y/n) and I will go.” Announces George. She freezes as everyone eyes them curiously.

“Maybe someone else would like to go before us.” She tries.

“Nonsense, go on (y/n).” Says Harry enthusiastically. “No one here will judge you.” He adds thinking that’s her concern.

It’s not that she didn’t want to defend herself, it’s just she felt sort of bad stunning someone. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to do it. She walks to one end of the room and George to the other. He stretches out his arm, wand at the ready. She looks at Susan with a pleading look. Susan gives her an impatient nod and (y/n) reluctantly lifts her wand.

Neither of them moves, the room is completely silent. Soon there are whispers in the crowd. George is looking at (y/n) with a challenging eye. She gulps, trying to convince herself to stun him. She thinks that maybe if she does nothing he’ll grow impatient and stun her. That way she wouldn’t have to do it and he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of getting what he really wants.

“Right, any second now. Go ahead.” Says Harry slowly.

Nothing happens. George slumps out of his stans and raises his arms in the air. “Oh c’mon (y/n) stun me!” He exclaims.

She looks at the crowd as they all stare back at her. She suddenly feels weak in the knees. She begins to sweat nervously and looks at Susan. She looks a little concerned, maybe thinking this wasn’t as good an idea as she first thought. She still gives her a weak encouraging smile and a little thumbs up. (Y/n) looks back at George who has his arms stretched out taunting her.

“Oh for once in your life be mean!” He shouts. The words echo in the room.

“I can be plenty mean!” She disputes. “Last week, I ate Susan’s cookie.” She adds, puffing her chest.

George tries to hold back his smile. She hears a couple giggles in the crowd.

“That is not mean.” His tone is adoring and she hates it.

“It was her favourite brand.” She adds trying to make it sound more horrific. She’s the only one in the room with a serious face. Everyone else is smiling enjoying the tense exchange between the two.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “If it’s anything, it’s cute.” He says with a wink. There it is. There’s the final straw. She can feel her blood boil. Everyone holds their breath as they watch her face contort into an angry pout. George smiles wide thinking the pout is possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

She lets out an angry grunt. “It is not cute! You wanna see cute? Watch this.” She flicks her wand and shouts: “Stupify!” The spell sends George across the room. Everyone exclaims as he hits the ground with a thud.

“Excellent! Really good (y/n)!” Exclaims Harry.

Across the room George is whooping. He runs over to her with arms wide open. His smile is contagious, she can’t stop hers from pulling at her cheeks. Laughs spill from her lips as he wraps her tightly into his arms. Fred helps George throw her over their shoulders. Everyone gathers around them and cheers. (Y/n) feels her cheeks go hot suddenly, very aware of George’s hand on her thigh keeping her in place. She looks at everyone’s happy smiles and she can't help but join in. She hates to admit it but George might have been right. Standing up for yourself can feel good.

———

It’s a Wednesday evening. Most people were already back in their common rooms. (Y/n) was walking back from the library, having finished another tutoring session with Zacharias Smith. The halls are practically deserted when she suddenly hears quiet sobs further away. She speeds her pace and turns the corner finally spotting a little boy crying quietly while holding his hand. Two older boys are kneeling next to him. Her breath hitches when she spots him. George hasn’t talked to her since their duel. She would sometimes catch his eye across the classroom or in the dining hall but this is the first time she’s run into him. George is rubbing circles on the boy's upper back as he whispers sweet comforting phrases to the crying boy. As she steps closer she recognizes the boy to be Michael. She has helped him countless times after he has gotten detention from Umbridge.

Looking at George now she questions how she once called him a horrible person. She sighs accepting she might have been too quick to judge. She steps between the Weasleys and kneels down at Micheal’s feet so they're at eye level. She looks through her big bag before pulling out some gauze and a small glass jar of healing salve. Micheal gives her his hand, remembering the drill. She quietly applies the salve and wraps his hand. She listens to George explain to Micheal how soon the pain will subside. She notices he never stops rubbing circles on the boy's back. There’s something reassuring about the movement and she’s not even the one receiving it.

Micheal takes a deep breath, recollecting himself. He looks between George and (y/n) before smiling mischievously.

“Thanks mom, dad.” He tips his head to each before getting up and walking to his dorm. George’s hand stays frozen in the air even if there’s no longer a back to rub. (Y/n) stops screwing the lid to her salve as she looks at the now empty seat. They both jump when Fred starts howling with laughter. His laughs echo down the hall as he doubles over himself, holding his aching stomach. He wipes at his eyes and sighs loudly.

“Good one kid.” He shouts though Michael is much too far to hear it. “Ah! That’s golden.” He adds before he walks off in the same direction as Micheal did before.

George and (y/n) remain frozen. (Y/n)’s face is pale and George's cheeks are tomato red. (Y/n) is the first to move, she finishes screwing on the lid and shoving it into her bag. She’s in a hurry to get out of this very awkward situation. She shoots a look at George who moved from the floor and onto the bench. He’s leaning back onto the wall with his arms crossed. He smirks when she meets his eyes.

“We would have some cute kids.” His tone is teasing but there’s still something soft and affectionate in the statement.

“Oh honestly George, get a grip.” She rolls her eyes and walks away quickly. It takes all her willpower to hold in her smile until her back is turned to George. He’s not wrong she thinks to herself.

——-

She knocks lightly on the dorm room door. She can hear George’s loud laugh on the other side. She hopes he won’t be mad at her for interrupting the fun. Lee opens the door and the smile on his face is quickly replaced by a look of surprise.

“(Y/n)?” He stuns. The laughter in the room stops abruptly. She hears shuffling and soon George is peaking his head over Lee’s shoulder.

Lee quickly moves out of the way and George looks at her with a concerned look.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” He asks looking around to make sure there is no one else listening.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you were having fun there.” She feels pretty stupid now that she’s actually standing in front of him. George shakes his head vigorously to tell her it’s no problem.

“I just-“ she runs a hand through her hair. “I sort of need someone who doesn’t need help with tutoring or homework or healing salve.” The offer is months old. They haven’t even talked in weeks. She never thought she’d actually take him up on it but she didn’t know who else to turn to.

His shoulders drop and a natural smile spreads across his face. “Well then I’m your guy.” He closes the door behind him and guides her down the stairs and into the common room. It’s late, most students are in bed. George asks the few left if they could give them some privacy and they all retreat to their rooms.

“What’s up?” He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

She sighs and walks over to the big red couch. She sits down and buries her head into her hands. “I- I’m so tired George.” Her voice is laced with despair. “There’s just so much to do and I’m trying, I really am but I just don't know if I have it in me.”

George sits next to her, so close that their knees touch. “What are all the things you need to do?” He asks softly.

“I have to run the potions club and make that banner for the Ancient Runes Club. I have to tutor Hannah and Seamus and Zacharias and so many other people. I have to make sure Lavender is okay and that Luna found her socks. I have to listen to Hermione and Ginny talk about their boy problems and then give them advice. I have to write back to my parents and help them with their problems. I have to help McGonagall with the rat problem because no one else wants to. Madame Pomfrey said I could intern with her but that means I have to spend ten hours a week in the hospital wing. I told professor Sprout I’d help her extract pus from Bubotuber. I promised Colin I would look out for Dennis and I haven't even seen him in weeks.” It all spills out. For the first time ever she is totally transparent about her problems. “And then I have to worry about my own studies and try and keep my grades up and there’s the stress of Dumbledore’s army, what if we get caught?” She’s panting by the end suddenly feeling much lighter.

“Well maybe you could say no to a couple people. I’m sure the Ancient Runes Club can wait for a sign, Mcgonagall can take care of the rats on her own. You can say no you know.” He places a hand on her thigh and looks deep into her eyes.

“But- I can’t George! I can't say no. Those people are counting on me. What if the clubs fall apart or Seamus’ grades drop or Luna never finds her socks.” Her face is panicked.

“Let me help you.” He says it so softly. She feels a dry lump in her throat. Her jaw suddenly hurts and she feels tears well up in her eyes.

“I don’t want your help George!” She jumps off the couch and onto her feet. George’s hand slips off her thigh and onto the couch. It looks limp and sad without her leg to hold it. “I don’t need you, I was doing perfectly fine before you came around and I’ll be fine without you moving forward.” There’s a pause. “ I didn’t come here for you to save the day.” There it is. She doesn’t want to appear weak. She thinks asking for help makes her weak.

George stands up, towering over her. “Fine. If that’s how you feel then I’ll leave. I will go for good and you won’t have to worry about me meddling in your life anymore. I just want you to know that I’m offering to help because I can see how hard this is for you and I think you deserve more than what you’ve granted yourself.” George steps forward closing the gap. “I think you deserve to be taken care of for a change.” They’re inches away from each other. His face suddenly turns soft as he looks into her tear-filled eyes.

There’s a silent pause. She looks into George’s eyes and she sees the honesty, the care, the love. George is there for her when no one else is. He’s right, she is having a hard time and he’s the one offering the help. No one else. All the other people she has sworn would help her, be there for her, aren’t there. But how could they have known? She never tells them how hard it is, always caring for others. She never asks for their help. It’s not that those people don’t care. She just never opens up to them. She never permits them to be anything else than people she could help. All she ever did was give and give. She never believed she should do anything else. George is the first person who wants her to take, not give. It finally clicks. Everything that George has been trying to make her see is crystal clear now.

A tear spills from down her cheek and she feels her knees go weak. She cups her hand over her mouth trying to hold in a sob. She takes a step back shaking her head in denial. George’s face remains soft but there’s concern in his eyes.

“Hey.” He tilts his head, maintaining eye contact as she tries to look away. “It’s okay.” He pulls her towards his chest and she welcomes it. She falls into his arms as more tears fall down her cheeks. “Let it out.” He says.

With that permission (y/n) cries. She cries like never before. Loud sobs slip from her lips as her body shakes in George’s arms. She cries about all the sad secrets people have confided in her. She cries for all the days she sacrificed for others. She cries for all the “I love that you never say no”. She cries for all the grades she sacrificed to keep others high. She lets out years of pent-up tears, of hurt.

He rubs small circles on her upper back and remains quiet. She was right, there relay is something reassuring about those little circles. She cries for an hour and George never moves, never speaks, never stops her.

Finally, she sniffles her last tear and steps out of George’s arms. He reluctantly lets her go but takes her hand in his. She pulls it away to wipe at her eyes.

“Thank you.” Her voice is so delicate she would be embarrassed if it weren’t George in front of her. She laughs suddenly and George looks shocked. She soon starts crying of laughter and George gapes unsure of what to do.

“Are you okay?” He asks confused.

“I just, I hate you.” She laughs again. George looks stunned. He takes a step away from her and opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off.

“Or so I thought. You have bugged me every day for months yet there’s no one I want here more than you.” George takes a tentative step forward. The words seem to give him confidence. “As crazy as it sounds I’ve had some of the best times talking with you because I actually said what I wanted to say. You can handle me better than anyone else. You challenge me in a way that I absolutely hate but I know why you’re doing it. You’re helping me learn to take care of myself and that’s hard because it’s something I’ve never done before.” She stops for a moment. The look in her eyes changes. First, there’s shock as she realizes. Then there’s a soft and happy glow. “I think I’m falling in love with you George.” She gasps. It’s almost a whisper. She barely wants to admit it.

“Come here.” Is all he says. She doesn’t move. Her brows knit themselves as she searches his face for an explanation. She takes a deep breath. The step towards him feels like a trust fall. He gently pulls her closer by the waist. He presses his forehead to hers. (Y/n) pushes her nose to his, bringing their lips closer to one another. He repeats the movement.

They tease each other a couple more times before George whispers “Can I kiss you?” She nods slowly and whispers a yes. He tips his head so their lips connect. His soft lips send sparks down her spine. George wraps an arm up to her back and pulls her closer quickly deepening the kiss. She wraps her arms around his next and soon her hands tangle into his fiery red hair. It feels like rain after a dry summer, like the cold side of her pillow, like the warm fire after coming in from the cold, it feels like heaven. Nothing has ever felt more right than their lips pressed together and for once, she’s giving in to what she wants.

When George pulls away she finds herself chasing his lips. She pouts a little missing the kiss. George runs a hand over her hair and looks at her adoringly.

“I’m falling for you too (y/n)”

[illusionsofdreaming]

would it be okay to request headcanons with the main trio from TCF who aren't in a relationship with the (fem) reader yet but they like each other, the guys get hurt or something and the reader is so scared of losing them or was so anxious that she ended up kissing them? You can edit a few parts if you'd prefer! thank you, i know you have a lot of requests but you're the only one who writes x reader for them-

Notes: It took forever+forever but I finally gave up trying to perfect it- y'all just going to have to deal with these half baked potatos as I sob in the corner for my lack of functioning writing braincells.

+ 'nonny I know you asked for Fem reader but I'm just so used to writing gender neutral nowadays I actually forgot to write Fem reader in. Uh. I mean it's gender neutral so it should work regardless?? I'msorrypleaseforgivemeforthisblunder

Ft: Cale, Alberu, Choi Han

Cale Henituse

He’s covered in blood.

Again.

He glanced down at his shirt, once white, now completely soaked and rapidly losing warmth. The icky feeling of sticky cloth stuck on skin caused goosebumps to break out all over his arms. The lethargy that weighed on him was hard to ignore, but expected after using his ancient powers-

“Cale!”

He turned just as the full force of you barrelled into him and he staggered, unbalanced and would’ve fallen had you not pulled him back. He barely had time to protest at your rough greeting when you began frantically patting him down as if scouring him for weapons.

“There’s so much- where are you hurt?” you demanded harshly, your tone pitched higher than normal. “Raon call for Saint Jack and the others, medics- anyone that can help!”

“Y-yes! I-I will! Weak hu-human you better not die or I will destroy the kingdom!”

“Wai-“ his protests were ignored as the dragon flew off, leaving Cale dumbfounded with his jaw hanging down in disbelief. “Wait you don’t have to find the others, I’m fi-“

“Cale Henituse, if I hear you say ‘I’m fine’ I’m going to sock you to kingdom fucking come.“ you seethed. His lips snapped shut obediently, swallowing the aforementioned phrase down as a foreboding chill crept down his spine.

But I am..?

“How could you..” your voice shook even as you clung onto his soaked shirt so tightly your knuckles turned white. “You’re always doing stupid things like this…”

Cale frowned, feeling a bit indignant. Sure his plans weren’t the most thought out at times, but to call them stupid…

“If you waited for us to come, then you wouldn’t have to- why do you keep sacrificing yourself like this?”

That triggered an alarm in his head. What strange things were you talking about? The act of sacrifice were done by martyrs and selfless heroes and Cale Henituse was neither of those. He wanted to correct your misunderstanding but you were worked up and hysterical and it was with horror that he realised you were crying.

“________-“

“Don’t talk! Please, just conserve your energy- I won’t let you die, I promised the kids and the others- I won’t let you-”

The alarm bells in his head rang even louder and he fought to be heard over your rambling, “_________- no one’s dying, I’m fine-” it felt as if his heart had leapt to his throat as he stopped your fist before it could make contact. You really weren’t joking when you said you’d punch him. He tightened his hold on your wrist when you tried to twist out of his grip and swallowed nervously. “I’m not hurt _________,“ he emphasised, willing you to meet his eyes.

“Stop bullshitting me Cale- how much of a fucking idiot do you take me for? How can anyone be fine after losing this much blood-“

“It’s not mine.”

You stilled in his grasp.

“…W-what?”

He frowned. Was it really that hard to believe his words? “The blood’s not mine.” he repeated and made sure to meet your disbelieving gaze head on so that you could verify the truth in his words. “They were cut down before they could harm me. None of this blood is mine. I was not hurt.“ It was a partial lie. He did cough out some blood after instinctively activating the shield for protection but he felt that that was knowledge you’d be better off not knowing.

The coiled tension in you leaked out and Cale slowly released his grip on your hand and took a cautious step back - just in case. It was a good thing he managed to deescalate the situation before the others arrived. Just convincing one person was hassle enough and from experience alone, he knew the others weren’t as merciful when it came to learning about his injuries, regardless of severity or his protests otherwise. Cale shuddered. He really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Ron’s cold smile again. He glanced up and saw Raon’s flying figure and he waved lazily to the dragon hoping the young one would understand that the healers were no longer necessary, it had only been a false alarm.

“..ot.”

“Hm?” He looked down, hearing you mumble but didn’t quite catch what you’d said.

He was not prepared to be yanked forward and for your lips to mash against his. There was a brief sting where your teeth had caught on his lip and the uncomfortable sensation of having your teeth clack against each other, noses in the way. He froze, like a deer caught in headlights, thoughts reeling but before he could think of acting, to push or pull you in even closer-

You let him go just as abruptly and he staggered, breath stolen, mind in absolute disarray.

Then you slapped him. Which definitely cleared his thoughts. “You idiot!”

Stupefied, he watched as you stormed off, stuck in a daze as he cradled his face where his cheek and lips tingled for different reasons.

“…What..?”

Choi Han

Choi Han didn’t know what Cale saw in you back then, a complete stranger whom they saved by chance and nursed back to health with utmost care. You, who Cale insisted was the final key to their masterplan and then asked Choi Han to act as your escort.

There were many things Choi Han didn’t understand when it came to Cale-nim’s decisions. But that wasn’t so unusual and he’d never made it a habit to question Cale’s reasoning, having learned to be patient, knowing the pieces would eventually slot together in the grand picture. So although initially wary he was of your unclear history and affiliation, he stayed by your side and did his duty without question.

And perhaps after weeks of accompanying you, he’s beginning to see what Cale saw. Though powerless and weak, you were righteous and passionate, holding true to your belief even in the face of adversaries. You were the perfect replacement for the tyrannical ruler of the country, someone capable of salvaging the crumbling system of a neglected, abused society and lifting it to new heights and glory.

With the flames of revolution ignited, everything hinged on getting you safely to Cale on the final stage. While the revolutionaries fought and acted as distractions above ground, he escorted you through the abandoned waterways.

The undergrounds were dark and cramped, incredibly disadvantageous to a swordsman such as himself. When assassins leaped out in an ambush; Choi Han didn’t hesitate. Without time nor space to draw his sword, he pushed you behind him and raised his arm to block the strike.

As the momentum of the assassin’s blade stopped, it became simple matter to quickly disarm and finish them. Having checked and affirmed that there’s no forthcoming attacks, he urged you to hurry, now worried as they weren’t expected to be discovered so soon.

Something must’ve happened, we should hurry to Cale-nim’s side-

He was halted with a firm grip on his other hand and was pulled back as he was met with your stern, unwavering gaze and declaration that you will not move another step from this spot until his arm got treated first.

Which was a ridiculous request considering they were running on a tight schedule. He frowned and his fingers flexed against the hilt of his sword as you pulled him to the side.

When none of his objections were being heard, he tried reasoning with you. The wound may look horrible, but he’d assured you he’d angled his arm just so that the blade would’ve caught on his bone rather than tendons. It was a strategic move that not only blocked momentum but also kept damage to his non-dominant arm at the minimum. He would not have bled to death nor would he be crippled from it, something that barely needed the emergency care you insisted on.

“It’s not necessary, we need to get to the tower room first.”

“The room is not moving anywhere, I’d rather not risk having you develop an infection because you neglected to care for your wound.“

He flinched when alcohol was poured on the cut and Choi Han breathed out slowly, his frustration mounting as precious seconds passed. Something in his chest stirred uncomfortably. He’s not accustomed to having others care for his wounds, having spent so many years caring for them himself whilst hiding his weaknesses from monsters in the Forest of Darkness.

“I will attend to it after I’ve brought you to Master Cale’s side, we must-“

Your eyes flashed with anger as your grip tightened painfully around his arm. “So many things have been lost to reach this stage, I’d rather not lose more on the way there.”

“Cale-“

Perhaps you’ve had enough as well as the next thing he knew, your fingers dug into his arm and he found himself yanked forward and you pressing a hard, determined kiss that stole whatever he was going to say from his lips.

“Cale Henituse,” you said sternly when you parted and picked up a roll of bandages, “can afford to wait a bit longer.” you glared at him as if daring him to argue otherwise.

Not that it was necessary, considering he’d doubt he’d have the coherency to answer anything with the way all the blood in his body was rushing to his face.

Alberu Crossman

He didn’t feel anything upon the moment of impact. Only the shocking cold of metal being slid into his side and the vicious gaze of the perpetrator pressed up to his front.

The pain ripped through a moment later and he gritted his teeth, red spilling down his lips. It hurts.

Activity bursted around him, screams of fear echoed through the ballroom as guards rushed to his side. However one voice in particular caught his attention and he looked up to catch your horrified expression, lips parted in a desperate cry.

His forehead furrowed as a strange sense of guilt washed over him- he didn’t want you to see this- but he didn’t have time to explore the feeling as his hand latched firmly on the hand which still held the weapon in his side, preventing their escape.

His smile was red, “Caught you now, rat.”

═════☩══♛══☩═════

He tousled his hair dry with a towel as he read through the reports in his hand.

Alberu was exhausted, the fight to rid his side of his enemies’ spies had always been an ongoing and tedious project. His enemies were cunning and always played things safe however their impatience this time would cost them. Now that one of their own has fallen into his hands, they can start pulling in the net.

A knock sounded on his door and he didn’t bother looking up from his reports as he gave permission. “Come in.”

“Did you manage to find any new information from them?” he asked immediately as the door opened. Anything gleaned from the assassin would be beneficial to his cause. Not that he truly expected any confessions to be given this night. Any hired killer worth their salt would know not to betray the mastermind behind a hit. But there were more than one way to find credible information aside from words torn directly from the lips of a captive.

When no answer came, he looked up and immediately dropped the papers he was reading.

“___________…”

In the aftermath of the attack and the capture of the assassin he’d been immediately escorted to the healers for first aid. With the bare minimum done he’d left quickly to take control of the situation, calming the aristocrats and giving orders to assign all guests to be escorted to a room in the palace to rest from the unexpected development - the smarter ones would know this was just a way to keep all suspects in one place, stalling for time so that his trusted aides may work to narrow down the most likely suspects. He had been meaning to find you and explain once everything settled but this time you took matters into your own hands.

Your eyes glanced at the documents he dropped. “Am I disturbing your work?”

“No,” he replied instantly, fighting back the urge to shuffle the papers behind him. “No, you’re not.”

The room lapsed into silence once more as neither of you seemed keen to address the elephant in the room.

“About tonight…” he started slowly, “they had to believe I had my guards lowered.”

The truth was, though he believed you would not have been behind the attack, you had to be tested all the same. Should it be known you’ve been partial to this plan, it would’ve given the real culprits leverage to use.

You approached him and he wished you would say something. He noted the redness in your eyes and felt a stab of guilt lodge in his chest. “It had to be believable.”

You didn’t meet his eyes and your hand hovered over where his wound had been.

He lifted the edge of his shirt up to reveal the pink scar tissue underneath. It was ugly and badly healed due to the rush he had been in. “I wasn’t in any real danger.” he said softly, staying still and resisting the urge to shiver when your fingers traced the scar.

“You’re picking up bad habits from Cale.” You said so softly he would’ve missed it had he not been paying attention.

“The padded shirt under prevented the blade from going too deep.” he explained, hoping you’d understand that he hadn’t been reckless. Everything had been planned carefully. He slowly tucked his shirt back in as you withdrew your hand, already missing the warmth you brought to his skin just moments ago.

“__________…”

You leaned in and placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Don’t do that again.” you whispered against his cheek.

He could only watch in astonishment as you turned away and exited his room.

“..Okay..” he said hoarsely to the empty room.

[blu-joons]

Military Visits ~ Kim Junmyeon

Your eyes looked in all directions as you looked around the place that Junmyeon called home. Although you weren’t quite sure of what to expect, what you saw before you were incredibly far from what you could have ever pictured for him.

Junmyeon could tell you were surprised, nudging your hip gently to remind you that he was beside you as you looked around the place closely.

“Not quite the same as the apartment,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist, “but it does the trick and keeps me safe.”

“It’s certainly different,” you smiled as your voice wavered.

A gentle sigh came from Junmyeon as he pulled you a little closer, “after all this time, I understand that it’s probably very overwhelming for you to see it all.”

“A little,” you admitted, glancing across to look at him, “I had pictures in my mind of what I thought you’d be living in, but this doesn’t quite match what I had in mind.”

With his hand in yours, he began to walk you through the rest of the barracks. “I’ll show you all around the place if you fancy and show you where I normally am when you ring.”

“At least I’ll be able to recognise that place,” you joked, walking alongside him carefully.

Whilst Junmyeon walked easily through the barracks, your footsteps were a little more apprehensive, which Junmyeon quickly caught onto. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you whilst we’re here, you know that, right?”

“Of course,” you lied through gritted teeth, catching up with him, “I’m just taking it all in, I’ve never been in a proper centre before, I’ve only ever seen pictures from the others.”

When Junmyeon first enlisted, the other members all sat you down and told you what to expect, especially Minseok and Kyungsoo as soon as they discharged to ease your mind too.

“It won’t be long until you don’t have to worry about me being here anymore,” he reminded you, squeezing against your hand, “can you believe it’s been over a year now?”

“A year too long,” you sniggered in response, letting go of a sigh as his eyes rolled.

Enlistment was something neither of you wanted to happen, no matter how inevitable it was. “We’re getting through it, and that’s the main thing. The end is in sight now.”

Although Junmyeon was right, there were still many occasions that he missed out on, starting with his birthday, which he’d had to spend at work rather than at home with his family.

“I guess it’s a good thing that discharge is closer now than enlistment.”

His head nodded as he led you out of the rooms, across a field and to the food unit, where many workers were served food. It was nothing fancy, but as you grabbed a food tray from Junmyeon, you knew it was enough to keep him well looked after.

“Is it your first-time trying military food?” He asked as you grabbed a spoonful of rice and placed it on your plate.

Your head nodded, following behind Junmyeon’s lead, grabbing the foods that you wanted and placing them on your tray before following him across to a spare table in the canteen.

“It’s nothing luxurious, but it still tastes nice,” he informed you, quickly tucking in.

Your eyes looked down at the tray, letting go of a heavy breath. “Is this all prepared by workers too, a bit like what Kyungsoo used to do?”

“Exactly, it’s cooked with passion, which is probably why it’s surprisingly nice.”

You listened on whilst the two of you ate as Junmyeon told you plenty of stories that he hadn’t told you over the phone. As he spoke, you could tell how much he was enjoying himself, especially in his role as leader of his unit.

“It’s like having Exo, but with several more members, they’re just as much trouble, and listen to me as terribly as some of the boys used to do sometimes.”

“They’re definitely a lot more trouble without you.”

“Are they taking care of you well though?” He questioned, worry in his voice. “They’re doing what I told them to do?”

Relief washed over him when your head nodded back at you. There weren’t many days that passed when at least one of the members would appear at your door to check in on you under Junmyeon’s very strict instruction.

“And the others went in well too, did they?” He continued to quiz.

“All of them are fine, as am I, there’s nothing to worry about,” you assured him.

Even though he trusted that the other members would be more than capable of looking after themselves, it never stopped him worrying. Being so far away from everything was hard on him, especially when so much seemed to be happening for the group too.

Once you were finished eating, your trays were cleared, choosing to remain sat at the table for a while. “Did you have a good birthday whilst you were here?”

Junmyeon’s reaction was a little slow, nodding his head gently. Whilst he’d been given the best birthday he could in his situation, his heart was heavy knowing he’d spent it without you, unable to sort out a time for you or his family to visit him in time.

“It was as good as it could be,” he finally answered, “but having you here now feels more like my birthday.”

“I’m sure they tried their best to give you a good birthday,” you joked, “especially as their leader after all.”

As you spoke, you watched on as Junmyeon stretched his arm out across the table for you to take a hold of his hand. You intertwined your hand in with his gently, realising for the first time how rough his skin was since he’d joined the military.

“I can’t wait to leave this place in a few months and come back to you,” he smiled, staring directly across at you. “I know you’ve smiled through it all, but don’t think I’ve not noticed on the phone how much you’re struggling from time to time with it all.”

Your eyes met his with just as much sincerity, “coming here and being able to see you in person has definitely made me feel a lot happier. Even if we always knew this was going to happen, it’s still not made things any easier.”

His hand squeezed at yours as your voice trailed off, determined not to get yourself upset in front of Junmyeon and all of his colleagues too.

“Things are getting easier, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.”

Your head nodded in agreement, “I know it’s getting easier; each day is another day closer to having you home after all. I just wish that you could come home now instead.”

“Good luck even trying to smuggle me out of this place.”

You knew just how strict everything was just by how long it had taken you to even be able to get in to see Junmyeon. It was scary to see the type of environment he was living in, far from anything he was ever used to before.

“Maybe I could just stay here for the next eight months,” you suggested, “I can cook, I’m pretty good in a fight if I need to be too.”

“As nice as that sounds, home is where you need to be,” Junmyeon responded, offering you a warm smile. “Who else is supposed to look after our place, my family, and the boys when I’m not around to do it?”

Your head shook back at him, “they’re supposed to be looking after me, but I think I’m looking after them more instead.”

“I expected nothing less from all of them,” Junmyeon chuckled.

“But I know that they’re missing you terribly whilst you’re here.”

“I miss them too, and you, of course.”

---

Masterlist

[thedistantdusk]

Thanks to @jenoramaca @gryffindorhealer and @secretkeeper13 for the quick beta work!

A gift for my beloved @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey.

CW: Language and domestic fluff

______

Trying

From the second he walks through the door, Harry can sense that something’s changed. It takes him thirty minutes to suss out why.

In retrospect, the smells coming from the kitchen probably tipped him off. Or maybe it was Ginny’s distracted hum, followed by the tinkling of plates and cutlery. Perhaps it was the fact that she prepared a full dinner, long before he even got home.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t worry about it too much as he greets her with a kiss, his hands cupping her chin. When he sits across from her at the table, there’s something furtive and curious lurking behind her eyes, but their meal is so peppered with normalcy that he doesn’t bring it up. They banter and laugh about Luna and Robards and wonder what they’ll bring to the Burrow on Sunday.

But when they’ve reached the stage of chasing stray noodles around their plates, Ginny finally clears her throat… and just like that, the nearly imperceptible shift he’d sensed earlier turns into something very perceptible, indeed. “Can I erm. Talk to you about something?”

He pauses, mid-bite, and takes her in. Her lip’s worried between her teeth, her hands fidgeting. Even her hair, normally strewn about her shoulders or parted to the side with a sort of effortless grace, is tied back and resting low at the base of her neck.

Ginny’s not normally this… serious. And he’d be lying to say it didn’t frighten him.

So he blurts the first thing that comes to mind. “Who died?”

There’s a half-second pause in which his chest clenches, his stomach churns. Could it be Molly? Or Arthur? George hasn’t been great either, not that—

But Ginny just reels back, confused… and it’s not until then that Harry realizes he’s really, really misread something.

“I… w-what?” she stammers, brow furrowing. She peers at him for a pained moment before her face relaxes into a look of understanding. “Oh. Oh! For fuck’s sake,” she mutters, rubbing her forehead. “I guess I’m thicker than usual, should’ve known you’d read it that way.”

Harry snorts. “Erm… darling, as many things as I legitimately don’t understand, I’m fairly sure this one isn’t on me.”

Ginny ignores this. “Did you seriously think that something dreadful happened and I’d just spring that on you in the middle of your bolognese?” Her lips twitch into a smirk. “Here’s some pasta. By the way, a fire burned a puppy orphanage to the ground. Could you pass the salt?”

He gives her a plain stare. Nice try. Years ago, he might’ve taken the bait and chased her down that rabbit hole. They might’ve had an hour-long, spirited debate on the existence of puppy-specific orphanages. But after three years of marriage, he knows better.

And she knows he knows.

Ginny finally draws a resigned breath. “No,” she says slowly. “No one died, ok? Or is even… I don’t know, sick or infirmed or threatened.” She waves her hand and continues babbling. “Last I checked, even Muriel’s still going strong, somehow. I’m jealous of that, you know— being old enough to just say whatever the fuck you’d like and have no one question it because—”

“—Ginny,” he cuts across on an exasperated sigh. “As chuffed as I am to chat about Muriel all night, I’d really like to know what’s bothering you. Please?”

There’s another pause as she bites her lip. Then, in one swift motion, she attempts to rise to her feet and push her chair in on her way over to him.

But somewhere along the way, something gets crossed— and Harry watches in bewildered horror as her foot catches on the leg of the chair. Then, right in front of his eyes, she lets out a startled gasp, her arms flailing, before she lands with a thump.

He’s out of his seat and on the floor beside her before he even realizes she’s cried out in pain and surprise. “Are you ok?” he demands, pushing her jeans up around her ankle… her tricky ankle, the one she hurt rather badly at the playoffs last month. Hm. It's a bit red.

Honestly, she hasn’t been this clumsy since she was 10 years old and near a butter dish. This does nothing to alleviate his fears that there’s something Very Wrong.”

“It’s not even my ankle that hurts,” Ginny grits, pushing up on her palms. “Wait— Harry, what are you—”

“Need to ask Gwenog,” he says urgently, running to the other side of the table for his wand. “She said that if anything happens to your ankle to tell her straight away, remember? Better safe than—”

She scoffs. “Seriously, Harry, I’m fine! I didn’t even land on my—”

He arches an eyebrow. “Have you suddenly forgotten the Puddlemere match? When your ankle broke clean through the skin?” Even now, the memory makes him shudder. “You heard Gwenog— without magic, you might not have walked again.”

“But there was magic,” she says, almost pleading. “And seriously, I’m fine!”

Harry finds he has limited patience for her heroics, though, while she’s sprawled out on the floor and nursing a bruise on her arse. “Gwenog’s instructions were quite clear,” he says firmly. “Having a pro athlete as a wife is a group task. It’s taxing on your body. I’ve got to make sure there’s enough of you left to enjoy our lives.”

Ginny clears her throat. “Erm… but what if you… haven’t actually got a pro athlete as a wife. Technically speaking.”

Harry swallows. He’s sure he’s heard her wrong. “What?”

With a wince, she adjusts herself against the wall. “I’m sorry… this isn’t how I’d planned to tell you. I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?”

Normally, Harry might press a bit harder. Normally he’d demand answers— and now. But as he peers at her on the floor, there’s something soft and uncertain behind her eyes… something timid. So he decides to do something he knows he’s good at— something she doesn’t let many other people do: take care of her.

With a sigh, he scoops her from the floor and brings her to the sofa. Then he props her against the pillows, putting her legs across his lap.

And he waits.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, peering at her downcast face, before she finally says it in a rush.

“Iwanttohaveababy.”

It comes on a whisper. A breathed admission. He knows, just from her expression, that she’s never said it aloud.

But he must have misunderstood. There’s no way he’s not projecting, inserting the reality he wants instead. “Could you… could you repeat that?” he manages, his voice gruff and shaken.

Ginny just sits up straighter; her cheeks as red as her hair. “I want to have a baby,” she repeats, the confidence building with every word.

Oh. Looks like he was right after all.

Harry blinks at the carpet, his head spinning, mortified with the tears that have sprung, unbidden, to the corners of his eyes.

A baby. Their baby. A smile plays at his lips as he stares at her ankle in distracted bliss. He’s been ready for ages… longer than anyone he knows. It’s hard to remember a time when he didn’t want a family with her. When he didn’t want to watch her grow and change. To become more beautiful with every passing day until…

He swallows back another round of tears; he’d never forgive himself if he forced this… if he swayed her, in any way, despite what he wants so badly it squeezes his insides.

“But what about quidditch?” His voice cracks; he clears his throat to cover it. “Honestly Ginny, I’ll wait, as long as you’d like. We’re young. Think of what you’d deal with, loads of assumptions and press and comments.”

She turns to him with an arched brow. “And since when have I ever cared about comments? Since when have you cared about comments?”

He spreads his palms in resignation; it was a particularly weak argument. “I know. I just… don’t want to make your life more difficult.”

“Well...” She draws a deep breath and peers down at her nails. “I’ve erm. Actually quit the Harpies, all by myself.” Her cheeks begin to redden again. “I’ve already sent the owl and everything. Resigned. No intent to return next season.”

Oh.

That’s what she meant, then, about not being married to a professional athlete. Harry blinks a few more times as she plows through an explanation that could honestly be something from a dream.

“I’ve… I’ve just been thinking about it. A lot,” she adds, focus returning to her cuticles. “The Harpies are out for the rest of the season— that fucking Puddlemere match and that bullshit ref.” She glares at the pillow to her right. “Nothing like blind favoritism. Fucking prick should’ve been fired!”

All Harry can manage is a feeble chuckle, his hand moving to caress her knee. This time, he can’t bring himself to stop her spiral.

“Maybe it’s not just that match, though,” she admits, rubbing her ankle. “It’s also just… so much bloody work. I’ve been at it three whole seasons, you know? I’m a bit tired of missing birthdays. And family events. And only dreaming of bludgers and snitches. And attending the mandatory press interviews to avoid getting fined, and then giving polite answers to personal questions when I really just want to hex them, and—”

Harry laughs. “I think Sandra Richardson might disagree about the polite answers bit, darling.”

Ginny gives a dignified sniff and continues as if she hasn’t heard him. “Annnyway,” she says, toying with a piece of lint. “I… feel like I’m ready to move on. So.” Her face splits into a grin as she gestures to the corridor. “On with it.”

He clears his throat. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that, I’m confused about how this relates to quitting your job. You could’ve kept playing. Or—”

“—Why is it so hard to believe this is something I want?”

There’s a beat. He doesn’t have a good answer.

“What if I wanted to quit before I got pregnant?” she continues, her tone growing more demanding. “What if I was done with playing, regardless — and genuinely wanted to have children? Your children.”

She lets out an incredulous laugh, tossing her hands in the air. “I have to say, Harry, this feels an awful lot like you’re doubting what I actually want to fit a narrative of what you think I want.” Her eyes narrow again. “Is that really respecting my wishes?”

“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head. He’d never thought about it like that before… how it might be insulting, really, to question what she’s ready for. He laces their fingers together, feeling properly chastened. “I’m sorry. I never meant to… suggest you don’t know what you want. Or something.”

He hears the timid smile in her voice as she squeezes his hand back. “Do you still want a baby, then?” she asks. “Or are you just in it for the practice?”

A smile creeps across his face, his eyes still focused on her hands. “I… think you know the answer to that one.”

“Well, I’m not sure I do,” Ginny says flatly. “Because I just told someone who wants two million babies that I’m ready to carry his first child. Forgive me if I expected a bit more excited fanfare than acting like I drowned your kitten.”

“What’s with you and baby animals today?” he murmurs, inching her pant leg a bit higher.

“Wonder why I’ve got babies on the brain,” she quips, raising her eyebrows. “Maybe because I want one.”

Harry releases a resigned sigh. She’s clearly done playing. “Honestly…” He bites his lip. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, I’m obviously on board. Obviously.” His eyes flit to hers. “I just… I don’t want to be responsible for something you end up regretting.”

It’s the truth of the matter, really; the thing that tugs at him the hardest. The fear he’d ever burden her… the worry he’d ever make her less than happy.

Ginny gives him a small smile, her hand coming to cup his jaw. “I’m going to take that as a weird, sad Harry thing instead of an attempt to remove my womanly agency.” She narrows her eyes. “But that’s your final warning.”

Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s on his feet in a split-second, gathering her into his arms with the stupidest grin he’s ever worn. Trying. Is that what they call this? Are they actually properly trying now?

“Get used to this,” she says as he strides into the bedroom. “Because once you knock me up— on purpose, mind— I’m going to request a lot more transportation.”

“I think I can live with that,” Harry murmurs against her lips, draping her across the bed.

And to avoid a well-deserved slap, he doesn’t say the final bit: As long as you can live with me.

[forever-rogue]

Could you do a Javier peña x female reader where javi gets naughty and teases her in public but she gets her revenge at home that night by putting on a show and saying “only good boys get to touch”?? Thank you, your writing is so good!

One way or another, this ended in sin. Enjoy!

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader ; warnings: language, smut (18+ only!)

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Stop," you hissed through gritted teeth as Javier toyed with the hem of your dress. It was already tight, purposely chosen to give him an eye full, but not enough to cause him to touch. You, Javier, and Steve were currently out at dinner, talking it up with a bunch of big wigs from the Colombian government. Not exactly a place for him to be making a scene, "Javier."

"You say you don't enjoy this," he pretended he dropped something and leaned down, whispering so only you could hear, "then why are you so wet?"

He straightened back up, but kept his hand on your thigh as he pushed your damp panties to the side and ran a finger through your soaked folds. Bastard. 

Instinctively you tried to close your legs, but Javier was faster and able to keep his hand between your legs. He was practically fucking smirking at your vain attempts to pull away. 

"Stop this, now," you insisted, almost banging your fist on the table as he circled over your clit with his thumb. He was enjoying this far too much, somehow managing to keep a conversation going without so much as missing a beat as you struggled to keep from moaning.

"Everything alright?" he feigned innocence as he turned to you when everyone noticed your lapse in conversation. It took everything in your power to nod and smile politely as if your secret, but not so secret, boyfriend wasn’t about to fingering you, "you look a little flushed."

"Nooope," you managed to squeak out as he curled his fingers just right and hit your sweet spot, "just fiiiine."

"Hmm," he mused before shrugging his shoulders and getting back to his own conversation. You were so wet you could practically feel your arousal dripping down your leg as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. The sound was disgustingly obscene, so wet and filthy, you were surprised no one else could hear it. 

But then, as you edged closer and closer to your blissful release, Javier pulled his hand away, bringing his fingers to his lips and discreetly sucking them clean as if he had gotten food on them. 

Your mouth dropped as you watched him with an incredulous expression. He pretended he didn't notice at first before turning back to grin as you downed the rest of your wine.

"What the fuck is your problem?" you narrowed your eyes at him, cursing him for being such a bastard, "you're going to pull that little stunt and then not even let me finish?!"

"You were getting a little loud," he said casually, sipping on his drink as he waved at a couple of people he recognized at another table, "I didn't want you to be embarrassed or cause a scene, baby. You’re normally such a good girl, what happened?”

“Javier Peña,” you huffed at him as he just continued to have the most saccharine look on his face, “I hate you. We’re done. I never want to see you again!”

Grabbing your purse, you stood up, ready to make up some sort of bullshit excuse about you just remembered a prior engagement. Anything to get out of there and finish what Javi had started. He caught your wrist and looked at you with the softest, big, brown puppy dog eyes before pouting, “you don’t mean that.”

“Yeah...well...right now I do,” you hissed at him before pulling out of his grasp and offering a good evening to the rest of the table, without so much as even offering him another glance. It hadn’t taken more than a few moments to come up with your little plan to get back at Javi; you knew him like a book, and for once you were going to be a few steps ahead. 

You could practically feel his eyes glued to your backside as you left the restaurant, a smirk spreading on your face as you picked up your coat at the check. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

It wasn’t much later before you heard Javi’s keys in the lock as he returned to his apartment. You were lying in his bed, dressed in the newest bit of lingerie you’d stashed in one of his drawers for an occasion just like this. You were sipping on some champagne as you laid there, attempting to look as innocent as possible. 

“Baby? I thought you were mad and didn’t want to see me again,” he called out as he spied the light on his room, slowly making his way down the hall. You prepared yourself, reminding yourself that he deserved retribution for earlier and you would make him suffer. His tie was already loosened and half off as he came into the bedroom. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening as he drank in the sight of you, “fuck.”

“Hi Javi,” you offered him a sweet little smile as you batted your lashes at him, “didn’t take long for you to come. I thought you were having oh so much fun with the guys?”

“Fuck them,” he tossed his tie onto the floor, already starting to unbutton his shirt, the growing bulge in his pants visible, “new set?”

“Mhmm...bought it just for you, Javi,” you touched over the barely there lace that covered your breasts, watching as he visibility swallowed the lump in his throat. His shirt was off in mere seconds before he reached for his waistband, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“You can’t be in here looking like that, and not expect me to want to fu-”

“Only good boys get to touch,” you leaned and crawled to the edge of the bed, holding up a finger and stopping him. He raised his eyebrows as he watched you in disbelief, “what, baby? Did you think I would let you touch me or fuck me after that little stunt you pulled? Mhmm...I don’t think so.”

“You’ve got to be...kidding me,” his eyes were almost black with lust as you just nodded sweetly before laying back against his soft blankets and pillows. His cock twitched in his trousers as he felt like a little piece of his soul was dying then and there. This was practically torture - if not worse, “what am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, yeah, hmmm...looks painful,” you mused as he sighed, “well, I can tell you exactly what you’re going to do. You’re going to sit in that chair and watch me touch myself. You don’t get to touch yourself either.”

“Shit,” he groaned, but as soon as he noticed the fierce, predatory look in your eyes, he decided not to argue and sat down, “you’re a tease.”

“Me?” you propped yourself against the pillows, “what about you? You edged me and left me practically dripping.”

Before he could protest, you touched your breast, squeezing it through the fabric and causing your nipple to peak before doing the same thing to the other. It was easy to get lost in the motions, letting a few moans spill from your mouth as you imagined it was his hand or mouth on you. He watched you eagerly, seemingly not blinking or breathing as he watched you play with your breasts. 

“Javi,” his name practically rolled off your tongue like a reverent prayer. Reaching behind your back, you undid the clasp of your bra and let it slowly fall down your arms before tossing it to join Javi's tie. Stretching, you made sure he got a good view of your chest and before gliding your hand down to your body and to your mound. 

"Shit...baby," you could see that he was straining against his trousers, "please let me touch you…"

"No," you purred as you touched yourself over the lacy panties, feeling how soaked they already were. The mere thought of having this much power over him was...sexy. You teased yourself over the fabric for a few moments, making all the lewd noises possible, "Javi...fuck, I'm so wet. All for you. Want to see, baby boy?"

"Hermosa…"

"Mhmmm," you slipped a hand inside your panties and circled over your swollen clit. You were already so wet, that it was practically threatening to drip down your thigh. Combined with your arousal and would be orgasm from earlier, you were almost at your peak again.Glancing up, you could see that he was practically craning his neck to get a better look. Deciding to egg him on, you threw your head back as you added another finger and dragged it through your soaked folds  "oh Javi."

“Shit,” his hands were on the arm rests of the chair, as for once he listened to you and refrained from touching himself. His grip was so tight that the skin over his knuckles was stretched and practically white, “wanna see.”

“I bet you do,” you pulled your hand out and slowly made your way over to him, stopping directly in front of his body, practically humming with energy before holding up your fingers to him, “suck.”

Javier practically groaned at your words, but did as you asked, taking your fingers in his mouth as he sucked them clean. Only when you were sure he had done a thorough job, did you pull your hand back, but not before grabbing his chin in your hands and roughly forcing him to look at you, “oh, so you can be a good boy. Very good.”

“Baby, you’re going to be the death of me,” you beamed at his words, gently carding a hand through his dark locks as he keened into your touch. You let him face his moment, pretending to lean down to kiss him, but instead picking up his tie. He watched you with a small huff as you grabbed his wrists, tying them together, just enough to be tight, but not enough to truly restrict him. It was more of a show of power in the moment, and you wanted to wield it over him for once. Before going back to the bed, you leaned down and gave him an actual kiss, just a soft, gentle little thing. 

You pulled off the delicate lace panties, tossing them at him, before laying back down and spreading your legs so he could get a full view of you. Giving him a devilish smirk, you reached down and touched yourself, slowly, making it a point to show him everything. Rubbing gentle circles on your clit, you moaned before slowly working towards your entrance and sliding a finger inside.

“Javier,” you sighed contentedly as he watched with great interest, “gods, I wish it was your fingers inside of me. So thick and good, know how to touch me just right.”

“I could…”

“No,” you slipped another finger inside, a small gasp escaping your parted lips as you felt the heat in your belly continue to pool, the coil that was threatening to snap winding tighter and tighter. Curling your fingers added to the pleasure you felt as you worked to find your sweet spot, on that Javier usually found effortlessly. You toes started to curl in pleasure as you made a show of it all, just to push him further, “fuck...Javi, ‘m so close. Don’t you wish it was your cock I was going to cum all over?”

“You look so pretty like that baby, all spread out,” he was clearly enjoying the show as he sat back, biting his own lip to try and control himself. He felt like he was going to cum in his trousers without even having touched himself, “are you going to cum for me?”

“Mhmm,” you used your free hand to squeeze and play with your breasts as you continued to pump your fingers in and out of yourself, “wish it was your cock or your mouth. Such a good mouth.”

“You’re almost there baby,” he cooed at you, as you opened your eyes to look at him. His face was flushed, the tan of his delicious skin tinged with pink as he gazed upon you with wild, watchful eyes.

“Javi,” it was a breathy whisper as you felt your walls start to clench around your fingers causing you to speed up your ministrations as you felt the warm, blissful haze of your orgasm wash over you. A small cry left your lips as you came around your fingers, before it all turned into a reverent, gentle chant of his name. 

Only when you were completely through the throws of your passion, you collapsed among the pillows and let out a long, blissful sigh. It had been fun - to have him watch and hold a semblance of power over him, even if it was only for a little while. At work you were equals, and in your relationship, Javier was generally in control, and to be honest, you didn’t mind it. There was something about the protective, dominant Javier that you adored and drove you wild. Not that he wielded power over you, or tried to make you subservient in any sense, it just worked...but this? Having him at your mercy? It was pretty good. You’d make a note to try it again some time. 

But just before you called him, you felt the bed shift as he made his way on it, looming over you before leaning down and kissing you deeply. Of course he couldn’t control himself for much longer. 

“Javier,” you grinned up at him, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down against your body. He was naked already, and you could feel his hard cock rubbing against your mound, “what do you think you're doing?”

“That was a cute show,” he leaned down and nuzzled his nose against yours before kissing you - this time with more hunger and intensity. You grinned into his touch as his hands found your waist and gripped you tightly, sure to leave bruises for the coming days, “but now I’m going to fuck you, and show you how its done.”

“Are you actually going to let me cum this time?" you smirked against his lips as he made a sound akin to a growl in the back of his back throat.

“I’m going to fuck you until the only thing you remember is my name,” he swore and you could feel yourself melting into him, “you are not leaving this bed all weekend.”

“For a threat, that doesn’t sound too bad,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him tightly against your body, peppering some kisses along his jaw, “te amo, Javier - even if you are an asshole sometimes.”

“Te amo hermosa,” he sighed lightly as he relished in your touch, “you and only - always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[that-was-anticlimactic]

time stops, though you don’t take a breath (renga)

aka boiling rock but renga written for @capt-snoozles alta / sk8 au

word count: 1,940

~

There was nothing quite like the feeling of Reki’s hair tickling his chin. His hair was so soft and had enough poof for Langa to bury his face in it.

“Langa,” Reki giggled, turning his head so he could look at his boyfriend. “You’re gonna mess it up!”

A soft whine escaped his throat as Reki turned, causing Langa’s chin to slip. “Mmm,” he grumbled, squeezing his arms tighter around Reki’s middle.

Reki sighed and shifted back to where he was before, allowing Langa access to replant his face in the ginger’s hair. “There you go, you big baby.”

Normally, Langa’s cheeks would’ve turned a bright shade of red at the comment, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care right now. It hadn’t even been a day since the group escaped Boiling Rock, and Langa was determined not to let Reki out of his sight for awhile.

The impromptu trip to the prison was to free Hakoda, Cherry, Joe, and Shadow. To be honest, Langa had not been prepared to find Reki or Suki there too. He thought that Boiling Rock was for high security prisoners like supposed war criminals and people who committed treason. He didn’t think the Fire Nation would send two kids there.

Langa could still feel the pang in his chest and the breath of air rushing in his lungs when Sokka had cried Suki’s name. He could still remember the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins when he looked over the balcony and saw not only Suki sitting on a bench, but also Reki.

Reki did something to him that nothing else could. Reki made him feel strong and whole and like anything was possible.

That was probably why, in the heat of the moment, Langa had attempted to jump off the building and into the courtyard.

Yeah, he could also still feel the pressure of Zuko’s arms wrapping around his chest and forcing him back onto the balcony and Sokka’s calloused palm when he slapped a hand over Langa’s mouth to prevent him from screaming Reki’s name and blowing their cover.

Suddenly, their plans had changed. There were two more people they needed to rescue because Langa was not going to leave Reki behind. Not again.

“What’re you thinking about?”

The glorious, heavenly sound of Reki’s voice drew him back to the present and Langa blinked. “You,” he answered truthfully.

Reki blushed, his cheeks turning nearly the same shade of his hair, and Langa hid a soft smile behind one of his curls. “Langa!” Reki pouted.

Spirits, Langa missed him.

“I was, though,” Langa said. “I missed you.”

At that, Reki smiled, the blush (unfortunately) fading. “I missed you too,” he replied softly.

There was nothing like the warmth that filled Langa’s body when he reunited with Reki to escape. They hadn’t been able to tell the redhead their plan in advance due to his echolalia, so Langa still hadn’t been able to hear his voice or hold him or tell him how much he loved him. They had to rely on Suki to relay the message shortly before the escape.

Langa had wanted to abandon the cooler—let Sokka and Zuko roll it down—the instant he saw Reki. And he almost did. It was only Zuko’s quiet “Don’t you dare” through gritted teeth that prevented him from doing so.

Then they were on the ground and Reki was there. He was just a few feet away.

So, Langa opened his arms and Reki came running—

Nothing compared to holding Reki—nothing except perhaps being held by Reki.

The second that Reki had made it to him, the second their arms were around each other, Langa had lifted him up, twirling him around. Reki’s mouth was pressed against the nape of Langa’s neck, so only he could hear his boyfriend’s laughter. Despite how muffled it was, it still filled the night in Langa’s ears.

Reki instinctively wrapped his legs around Langa’s waist the second his feet were off the ground, and Langa didn’t put him down for awhile, even after he stopped spinning. He didn’t want to let go.

Normally, he wouldn’t be able to hold Reki in the air this long—he didn’t have the strongest upper body—but this was Reki and it had been months since they last saw each other. It helped that he firmly planted his feet into the ground once he stopped spinning, and he thanked the Spirits for giving him incredible leg strength.

It also helped that Reki felt a lot lighter than usual, but that wasn’t good.

Langa shuddered at the memory of realizing that Reki was much easier to lift, and when his gaze flickered to Suki (who was having a whispered conversation with Zuko and Sokka), he noticed that she looked thinner than normal too.

And oh, how his blood boiled.

No, he hadn’t put Reki down until after they decided to stay and see if Hakoda, Cherry, Joe, and Shadow were arriving with the next batch of prisoners., despite Reki’s protests and Chit Sang’s complaints that they were disgusting (and they were used to it—they’d heard it all from Miya).

That was when he’d seen the dark bruise coloring Reki’s stomach. He saw it for the briefest of moments when Reki had lifted his arms to stretch after being put down, but they didn’t have time for that now.

“You okay?”

Again, it was Reki who grounded him, it always was. His voice was the gravity that pulled him back to the present and held him there.

“I was…” Langa trailed off, licking his lips. “I was so worried about you.” And then it all came rushing back—finding out that Reki was gone, that the Kyoshi Warriors that came to help were Azula and her friends, the pure rage that filled his body and consumed his mind when Azula said Reki’s name during the battle of Black Sun. Langa suddenly felt like crying all over again. “You were… you were there one day and then you were gone. Reki, I couldn’t—I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re amazing, Reki, you’re the most important thing in my life.”

Reki’s face softened and he squirmed until one of his arms escaped Langa’s hold, lifting it up and placing it gently on Langa’s cheek. “Hey, I’m okay,” he assured. Although it was a moment of comfort, something to help him calm down, all Langa could see was his bare wrist.

“Wait. Where are your friendship bracelets?”

Reki shifted uncomfortably. “They took them. We weren’t allowed to have anything with us when we got there so…”

Langa scrunched his nose. “But… your wrists. You need them or you scratch and hurt yourself.”

At that, Reki scoffed lightly. “I know you care about my tics, but the Fire Nation doesn’t. It’s not a big deal.”

But it was a big deal. When Langa squinted, he could see red marks on Reki’s wrist. He could seen faint lines where his nails had dug into his skin. It wasn’t fair; Reki didn’t deserve that.

“Hey, Shadow?” Langa called, raising his voice so the man in question would hear it from across the room (everyone could see that the two boys needed some personal time together so they gave them some space, but Joe, Cherry, and Shadow were still a bit on edge and didn’t want to let them out of their sight).

Shadow looked up from his own hushed conversation with Cherry and Joe. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

“We’re fi—“ Reki began, but Langa wouldn’t allow that.

“They took Reki’s friendship bracelets,” he explained, frowning. “Can you make him more?”

The older waterbender’s face shifted from confusion to understanding, and he sent the two boys a small smile. “Of course. Joe, you feel up to making some more charms?”

Joe cracked his knuckles, wiggling his fingers. “You bet I am!”

“And you’ll actually make them good this time?” Cherry said casually, twisting a strand of hair.

The comment made Joe’s eye twitch, and suddenly Shadow was stuck trying to break the two up again. Langa couldn’t tell whether they were trying to strangle each other or if they were making out, but either way, he did not envy Shadow.

Reki chuckled at the scene. “I missed them.” He tilted his head enough to look into Langa’s eyes, and blinked thrice. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.”

“Maybe. But I wanted to,” Langa said seriously (and Reki’s face flushed again—Spirits, it was the cutest thing). “You’re hurt. They hurt you.”

“They just took some string. It—“

“But they’re important to you and they help you so you don’t scratch yourself! And when you lifted your arms the other day I saw…” Langa swallowed, taking deep breaths because he couldn’t cry right now. “I saw a bruise. I don’t know how many more there are—there’ve been. You’re too thin, you and Suki both. They hurt you, Reki.”

Reki faltered for the briefest of seconds, his lips trembling. “I… a lot has happened the last couple months,” he said eventually. “But I’m fine, okay? I’m fine.”

And since Langa knows Reki, he knows what I’m fine actually means and he doesn’t believe it for one second. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not. I’m fine now that I’m here with you,” Reki said, and oh, how Langa’s heart melted.

“But what about—“

“I’ll be okay,” Reki interrupted, his eyes wide and swimming with something that Langa couldn’t quite discern. “You’re here, right?”

Langa nodded perhaps a little too aggressively. “Mhm. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know.” Reki clicked his tongue and his neck twitched. “We’re gonna get through this together, okay? All of this.”

“Okay,” Langa agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of Reki’s head. He paused and then said: “Are you hungry?”

There was a moment’s silence as Reki’s face twisted and he muttered the words under his breath a couple times. “Not really,” he eventually said, giving Langa an apologetic look.

That wouldn’t do. Reki needed to eat… but Langa wouldn’t force it. Not right now, at least. Everything’s happened so fast eating might be too much for him. Langa could still feel the adrenaline pumping in his chest (it hadn’t gone away. it had been there from the second they were running onto the gondola and a firebender had directed a burst of flames Reki’s way, from the moment Langa had shoved Reki behind him and drew water from the boiling lake below and doused the bender in it…) and he was sure Reki still felt it too (he could still see the way Reki’s chest had heaved when Ty Lee was about to hit Langa with her chi blocking—Reki hadn’t hesitated, he pushed himself between the two and blocked her fist).

“Okay. Are you thirsty?”

For a second, Langa was sure Reki was going to say “no”, to which he would’ve had to protest because who knows how much water the Fire Nation had given them while they were imprisoned. Luckily, though, after a moment’s thought, Reki nodded.

“Okay.”

Langa couldn’t help the wide grin that overcome him, and he (reluctantly) unwrapped a hand from around Reki’s waist and wiggled his fingers, popping the flask at his side open and bending the water inside so it floated to Reki’s face.

Reki rolled his eyes, playfully nudging Langa, but opened his mouth anyways, allowing Langa to direct the water inside.

“Thank you,” Reki murmured once Langa had bent the rest of the water back in the flask and made sure it was shut, snuggling closer to his boyfriend. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[meenah-chan]

Brothers and a Broken Bone

An OM! GN! MC fanfiction (OM! Brothers & Now-dateables + Luke)

2.42k words

Genre: flangst probably

Trigger Warning: blood, broken bone, violence (probably) Self depreciation? Still, read at your own discretion.

A chaotic family. A fight broke out and then... "Snap!"

They were on the way to the Demon Lord's Castle. Being like their usual selves, seven demons of varying personalities is chaotic.

"I'll definitely kill you Mammon if you're not able to get my platinum Seraphim figurine back!"

"Stop fussin' around already! It's just a figurine—"

"Just a figurine?! That's the last limited edition platinum Seraphim figurine released during the final episode of Seraphim of the End! There are only 5 of it ever produced in the whole three realms!" ...extremely chaotic.

"Shut it, you're so so damn loud."

"Loud?! Then let me rip that useless ears off you!" Whilst just a few blocks away from the castle, the purple demon suddenly transformed and spring towards his scummy brother.

"Stop it already. You're making a scene—" Before Satan could finish his sentence, the book he's holding was hit by Mammon's stray hand and flew, knocking Beelzebub's burger off his hands.

"My... Burger..." Losing concentration he lost grip of Belphegor, who is on his back.

On his fall, Belphegor squash Asmodeus to the ground, who then broke a nail.

"My book..."

"My beautiful nails..."

"Mngh... the hell..."

A burger splattered on the floor. A dented book coated with mayo and ketchup. A broken nail. An interrupted sleep.

... Extremely chaotic indeed.

Simultaneously the demon brothers transformed, ready to join the brawl.

"Stop this, you fools!" A riot is the last thing Lucifer wants a few blocks away from Diavolo's abode. Yet, his words falls on deaf ears, causing a set of horns and wings to sprout from him.

And the eldest joins the battle.

Then there's MC, a mere human. "Hey! No fighting guys!!" ...with no one who want to listen to.

"Don't hurt each other!!" Still nothing.

They move closer and took a deep breath, but this time, they're eager to use a bit of force through their pacts. "CUT IT—Aww." yet before they could, they fail miserably. Knocked by whoever the brother is, MC lost their balance.

They twist to hopefully resist their fall. Still, MC's footing failed and instead fall face first.

Snap!

As if a twig cracks, Leviathan and Mammon's attention was drawn to the unsettling sound. And as if on cue— Lucifer, Beelzebub, Satan and Belphegor's eyes followed.

A few feet away from them sits MC, blood profusely dripping off their nose.

MC rose on their feet but in a second, "Ahh..." They glanced on their lower right and lift their arm, as if nothing is bleeding.

Following the human's line of vision, blood suddenly drained from everyone's face. Well, except for the human themself.

"AHHHH!!" A shriek from Mammon and Asmodeus.

"Y/N!?" A shocked yell from Lucifer, Beelzebub and Satan.

"..." And a choked silence from Leviathan and Belphegor.

"...It broke." at the end of their arm limply dangles their forearm from the elbows. MC just looked at it as if nothing's out of place. They then glance to the stiff brothers a few feet away from them. "So, y'all cool down a bit?"

The brothers are anything but cooled down. They are so terrified they couldn't even move on their s spot.

And as if to trigger the demon brothers alot more, they swish their arm a little bit, the dangling forearm swinging like pendulum.

The first one to return to his composure is Lucifer, pulling out a handkerchief to stop the bleeding of Y/N's nose.

Satan followed, removing his blue jacket and sling their right arm around their neck. "I can't find anything hard to support your arm so please make do with this for now... damn, that fucking hardbound book's useless..." He mumbled the last phrase gritting his teeth.

"... Let's head to the Demon Lord's Castle first." Lucifer may looked he is composed outside but inside, he is a total mess. Everytime he loosens the pressure of his hand on their nose, blood will come dripping off with no sign of clotting at all. Just a bit more of ant stimuli and he will certainly be panicking like his brothers.

Noticing it, MC took the handkerchief from Lucifer and hold it in place themself.

Beel on the other hand towers over them and carry them.

"Does it hurt? Am I the one who hit you?" A crying Mammon hovers over them, hesitant of touching a single strand of his human.

"O-Of course it hurts, you idiot! We just broke MC's arms!" Leviathan is also a crying mess, standing beside Mammon.

"Not really. It is throbbing but numb." They reeled their arm once more, alerting everyone.

"DON'T DO THAT!!" They all yelled in sync.

"Hahahahahaha!! Looked at that priceless faces. Are you in a choir?"

"Hey, no fooling around! You're injuries are serious!" Asmodeus snaps.

"What if you worsen it?! You want to lose your arm, huh?!" Belphegor added.

"Why would I listen to any of you?" MC raised an eyebrow.

"Stop being childish and unreasonable. We're just thinking about you."

"Ohoh~? Did I heard it right? Childish and unreasonable? Aren't you describing yourselves awhile ago before injuring me with your bickering?" Condescending laugh. They received an insulting laugh from a mere human, yet no one utter a single word for defense.

Amidst the chaos, three forms appears opposite to their destination. "Hey guys, aren't you going to the Demon Lord's Castle too? What are you doing in the middle of the road?" As Simeon, Luke and Solomon approached the frozen brothers, MC jump off Beel's grasp and went to them.

"MC, what's with that jacket?" Luke held the hem of their shirt with a concerned look.

"It's nothing, just broke my arm. Come on, let's go to Diavolo and leave that matured and reasonable bunch." MC is smiling but the three could hear the spite in their voice.

"Wait—You WHAT?!" The eyes of the three almost bulged out of their skulls in surprise.

"Don't worry, I can't feel it. Let's go before the numbness disappears."

Through Solomon's magic, they manage to stop the bleeding and hold the arm from swinging. The four arrived at the the Demon Lord's Castle safely, leaving the brothers behind.

"MC, what happened?" As soon as he sees their state, Diavolo react fast and guide them to the nearest sofa.

"It was an accident. Is it possible to fix this?" Barbatos entered the room from a door different from what they used. He is carrying with him a first aid. Their guess is either— he left the room as he saw them or, he already predicted this will happen and came prepared. Either way, he didn't questioned them and instead act calm and efficiently as ever. Though when MC look closely, they can see an ever subtle crease between his brows.

Shortly after Barbatos appeared, the seven brothers arrived to the room, silently stayed in the corner.

"Solomon, I believe you have knowledge of healing spells, don't you?" Barbatos asked, wrapping the injured arm carefully yet fast.

"Yes, but it will take a few days to completely heal a torn ligament."

"I also have some speeding-up spells under my sleeves. I think combining it will heal MC's arm by daybreak." After Barbatos patch them up, Luke approach MC, with Simeon a step behind him.

"Are you o–okay? Does it hurt?" Teary-eyed he hold their knee, looking into their eyes.

With their uninjured hand they caress Luke's cheek, wiping the tears off his eyes. "It doesn't hurt at all. I will be alright in no time. A sweet little angel is blessing me after all."

"That's right Luke. Solomon and Barbatos are also forming a spell to return MC's arm to normal."

"Now, listen everyone." Diavolo stood in the middle of the room, calling everyone's attention. "I believe MC and the brothers have something to discuss in private. While Barbatos and Solomon are constructing a spell in the next room, I hope Simeon and Luke to come with me to give them privacy."

"I bet they are the one who caused MC's injuries! I don't want to leave MC alone with them!"

"It'll be okay Luke. They will be careful and won't do it the second time. Am I right, guys?" Simeon spoke calmly to soothe Luke but a hint of distaste still managed to reach the ears of the brothers. "Now come, let's leave them for a while." A reassuring smile from MC to Luke, and a thankful nod from Lucifer, to Diavolo and Simeon are passed before the others left the room.

"MC..." Approaching them, the brothers line up in row a meter away from them, Lucifer speaking in the middle of the line. "We would like to apologize for our... foolishness. Won't you forgive us? We're ready to do anything to earn you again."

"... I'm not really angry with you guys. Just upset and disappointed, with myself. Well, maybe I'm also sad because of you."

"MC..."

"Quarrels are normal with siblings. But it hurts to see you guys on each other's neck, ready to kill each other any moment. I mean, we're family. I should be able to stop you guys from doing something you'll definitely regret later. Yet here I am, a mere weak human who couldn't even do anything about it."

"It was like you guys calling me a family is nothing but a title. That without the pact, I am but a useless design that would crumble at a slight flick. I'm so weak and useless it's so upsetting."

"You're not weak nor useless!!" Mammon yelled.

"Yes I am. Look at this arm that snapped like a flimsy twig." MC slightly raised the arm with broken bone, which is starting to throb in pain. Pain that will definitely cause their tears anytime soon. Yet despite the pain still not surfacing completely, a greater pain within their chest caused tears to fall anyways.

"Look at me MC," Lucifer knelt in front of them, wiping the tears away from their eyes, "You, by any means, are not a weak person."

"Staying by our side after everything that happened, shows that you're a strong person." Satan strokes their head, smiling.

"That's because I really love you all. Because I want to be with you."

"We love you too, MC." Asmodeus also knelt beside Lucifer, taking their hand to his lips for a kiss.

"You're the most precious person to us, MC. We don't want you sad so please smile."

"Y–You know you're the Henry of my life! I vow I won't cause you pain. No–I'll protect you from all the sufferings in this world the best that I can!" Standing behind Lucifer, Leviathan fist-pumped.

"You're the best cuddle partner for me. Get well soon so we can take a nap without any problems." hugged MC from behind, burrying his face on the crook of their neck.

Mammon had enough. "Let go, you pricks! No touching to my human! What if you worsen their injury, huh?!" He especially tried peeling the fifth and seventh born from their intimate touch with MC.

"You're just jealous you couldn't hug them."

"Or kiss their hand." Asmodeus planted another peck onto their palm.

"N–No, of c–course not!" Mammon blushed profusedly while he held his hands over Asmodeus to stop him the third time.

"Pfft—Hahahahahahaha!" Being able to lift the pain off themself and hearing the brothers cheer them up, MC laughed with light heart, also lifting the veil of sadness and guilt from the brothers' chests.

The room was filled with smiles and laugh, fortifying the bonds of the big family they have.

"I'm sorry for interrupting everyone,"

"GWAAAHHHH!!" Leviathan and Mammon screamed in surprise as Barbatos appeared in the room with neither warning nor sound. Not only the purple and whitehead was taken aback. Everyone went stiff for a second except MC who is facing the door directly and saw Barbatos enter.

"The spell is done in the other room. If you may allow me, I would like to take MC."

On the doorway stood Solomon, holding back his laughter from the scene, engraving the comical shocked faces of everyone to the back of his mind.

"You could've knocked before entering you know..." Satan sighed.

"Forgive me for my rudeness, but I would like to bring them as soon a possible." Barbatos slightly bowed with his usual formal smile.

"... I see. Please do." Lucifer held his temple for a second before rising on his feet and giving way to the butler. If he knew, the butler definitely did it intentionally as a payback.

"If you'll excuse me." Barbatos took MC's other hand and in a snap, sling it to his nape, carrying MC in his arms like a princess.

"Oi! Let go! I'll carry them myself!" Mammon yelled at Barbatos' action. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

"Yeah, you might drop MC from being too flustered." Asmodeus agreed, squealing at the thrilling sight before him.

"Beel, you carry MC." Belphegor nudged his twin. "Okay, I will."

"No, I don't think that's possible." Diavolo entered the room, interrupting any more attempt of the demon brothers of taking MC. Simeon is with him, while Luke made a beeline to his baking teacher and MC.

"Now that you settled everything with MC, we will now discuss your punishment for the incident."

"...What?" Belphegor and Satan raised an eyebrow from the Crown Prince's statement.

"Yes. Punishment. I entrusted MC in your care thinking you can protect them. Instead you caused them pain. I'll be lying if I said I'm not disappointed."

Although Lucifer thought of the possibility of punishment but to hear the word disappointed from Diavolo's lips, directed at him, his loyal prospect hits him hard.

"...Yes. I understand, Diavolo."

The stunned faces of the brothers, including Lucifer pulled the last string of composure within Solomon, freeing the dam of his loud laughter. Simeon also chuckled with him.

"Okay, let's start. Barbatos, Solomon, proceed to the other room to tend MC's injuries. Simeon will also help with the discussion."

"As you wish, Young Master." "Okay." Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon replied simultaneously.

"Will do. How about you, Luke?"

"I'll go with MC."

"W–Wait! Can't we just settle this without any punishment? MC did say they're fine already. Right, MC?" Mammon held Barbatos halfway to the exit.

"As much as I want that, I can't really oppose Diavolo's decision. And you did dig what you sow, so... Condolence, I guess?"

"You heard her." Diavolo added.

"B–But, BUT—"

"MAMMOOOON..."

"EEK—!"

And thus, the trial begins.

I dunno why I wrote this seriously 😂🤣 I just thought I want to write a comedy fanfic with all the characters but I just noticed my plot is a bit dark to make this a comedy at all. So I made it a fluffy angst instead sksksksk 😆😆✌️

Also posting A Smear of Blood soon after.

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