#sleep on the floor fic chatter

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ CHALKBOARD AND NAILS

tw. noncon, yandere, dumbification, objectification, daddy kink, some degradation, some praise, threats, brief mention of murder and blood, hair pulling, forced oral wordcount. 4.5k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @totalleelee ♡♡♡ here you are my loVE!!! happy late birthday to your friend as well, and I really hope you guys enjoy it! I always like getting to write new characters and Nanami was definitely a fun one. I had to make the fic longer bc I wanted moreEeeeee but yea i just really really hope you enjoy it, and thank you again a miLLIOn for commIng me iM so sO HONOUREDDD

nanami kento x fem!reader

You should think about what you’re doing. Lying upside down off the couch with your eyes big and long, distracting lashes and your hair hanging; casting playful shadows on the floor when you move. His couch. He’d like to believe you’re doing it on purpose -hell, most people would probably be inclined to- when you’ve got that coy, little smile on your face and your shirt rides up to reveal a sliver of skin above your pants.

He would assume if you had ever dared to come onto him in any way. But you haven’t, and so he can’t, not when you remain the perfectly sweet, kind, respectful graduate they hired only a few years ago— and it makes him too aware of you.

Nanami’s not the prim and proper bootlicker Gojo jokes he looks like; so among the other sorcerers, it isn’t even too illogical that you would cling to him a little. A kouhai dumped on his doorstep when the higher-ups decided to employ them fresh out of school. If it were anyone else, he would’ve complained until the choice was overruled. But you’re not anyone else. He can’t even lie about the fact that he’s grown quite the attachment to you.

Your bubbly, engaged energy and blueberry scented shampoo and cheap coffee in styrofoam cups that you always, always forget to throw away at the end of the day. Your chattering that rings through his brain before he goes to sleep and the way you talk and talk and talk when he won’t. You’re the exact opposite of an enigma, because that would require that you left him with some mysteries, and you don’t have the ability to keep your mouth shut. He hates how easy you wind him around your little finger, and he hates that he hates it.

Nanami’s not a dependant guy- and it seems to be your goal to prove him so fucking wrong.

“Why wouldn’t that be possible? I mean, it’d be hard if suddenly a curse shows up and you’re called up in the middle of the night and have to rush to work, and our rates of serious injury are pretty high. But I think I could make it work! Y’know, communication is key and all that.” Your pretty lips shine as you ramble on. You prop your head onto one arm, and turn over so your leg is basically straddling his furniture. “Have you ever dated a non-sorcerer while you’ve been a grade one, Nanamin?”

He lets out a slow exhale, and shifts his gaze back from the lines of your throat to his book so you don’t catch him looking. “No.”

“Not once? In like twelve years?” You raise a brow like you’ve suddenly discovered he’s some ancient fossil dug up from the canal.

“I prefer not to leave my partners for weeks on end with no explanation because the sorcerer world forbids it— so no. And I didn’t graduate twelve years ago, brat.” With the spine of the book he taps your nose, before getting up from the chair to join you on the couch. The few drinks have been abandoned as you finally let the blood back out of your head and wobble like a deer, blinking too slowly. Even now, you’re pretty. Prettier than he wants you to be, taking in the soft slope of your nose and the pillowy lips and your stupid flush on your face. Brat is right.

“I think I’ll do it,” you declare after a few seconds, and rest your head back into the couch with a pout. “I get lonely. And most sorcerers have giant egos.” He’s not sure if it takes him aback -can’t place the emotion that washes over him a few inches at a time- but he finds himself watching the side of your face a little too tightly. The cogs turn in his head and send some uncomfortable cold to gather in the pit of his stomach. Your lashes flutter and some wetness lines your waterline, and he can tell that you mean it. It isn’t the alcohol, he knows you better than enough.

When you look up at him, your faces are only a few inches apart— soft breaths filling the narrow space between. Has he ever told you he loves you? He’s not a man of too many words, that’s always been more your style than his— so probably not. But he does. So much it carves a gaping hole in his chest upon impact. He doesn’t have to say anything to see the way your eyes flutter shyly with the near perfect closeness. As your silence hangs as the room disappears, his hand twitching on his thigh. Aren’t you partly his like he’s yours? That’s how it should work. It’s the only logical course of action, and so he can’t help but lean in.

You’re just too shy to say anything- right? You wouldn’t hang out with him so much if you didn’t, wouldn’t trust and touch him, or confide in him so much if you didn’t. His heart burns in his chest the closer you seem to get. But before he can finish up the gap, you giggle and back away. “Wow! Hey, we almost kissed.” Your voice is a higher pitch than normal, but still rambly. Fuck. “I didn’t expect you to be so close when I looked up,” your nose and cheeks are burning hot, “you scared me, Nanamin~”

You stand from the couch instead, and lean towards him with that little smile that drives him crazy at night. “Senpai, it’s clearly time for me to go home. I’m getting sloppy.” You are. And as much as he wants to use that as an excuse to grab you by your waist and pull you into his lap, it wouldn’t do any good. Not when you’re too busy running your mouth to understand the consequences. He loves you, but you’re one infuriating little runt. You run your hand through his hair like it’s an intrusive thought, spilling loose locks onto his forehead, and then you smack your lips. “Will you see me to the door at least?”

For not the first time, he blames your loose lips for making it so hard for him.

+

You’re entirely different outside the four walls of his apartment.

It’s a coincidence that he finds himself across the street as he spots you walking under the streetlights with a little jump in your step. You look a different sort of formidable— clinging to the arm of some plain fucking loser that is so very clearly drooling all over you. It’s almost pathetic how easily swayed the guy is, as you bat your lashes and smile at him. And somewhere in the back of his mind, it rings a little familiar, but common sense and logic get pushed down a little under the feeling of anger that he feels bubbling up in him.

Not at you— though he told you he didn’t think it a good idea, you’ve always been a bit dense. In need of protection. It isn’t an option, and Nanami’s responsible for you. He looks out for you. This fucking loser though, is oblivious about anything but the skin your dress is showing off. In the brief few moments he gets to spot you walking off towards your street, that much becomes clear. You love making it hard for him. You’re basically magnetic, dragging him along from whatever chore he was doing to follow behind patiently, getting more and more agitated.

See, Nanami has thought quite often about what he is, and isn’t. You forced him to think it over whenever he found his mind wandering back to you each time it had the chance, squeezing around his cock and whining out your dramatics into his mouth. In his imagination, he’s easy to wrap up into a neat bow. With a begrudgingly growing interest each time you landed on his couch, or trailed behind him like a puppy at work. It’s because of all that introspection that he decided he isn’t a good do-er. He does good, and he is perfectly adequate at doing it too. But he doesn’t do it for the praise of it.

Nanami isn’t a hero. He isn’t a vigilante.

He’s a simple guy with simple wants: you. So there’s only one reason that crystalizes in his mind as he finds himself walking a good distance behind this fucking loser that you’re blinking stars up at. It isn’t a noble one. Just that every fiber in him aches to grab the guy by the back of his neck and kick his head like a soccer ball. You wouldn’t like that much, but he still wants to do it.

You’re beaming and chattering along like you do at such a pace that you don’t even notice that he’s started to follow behind. Hell, you barely even acknowledge a passerby to move out of the way. You’re totally zoned in to your doe-eyed, little fantasies— even as the distance gets closer and closer, and he’s walking down the now familiar streets towards your apartment. And as much as he wants to blame you, he can't. Not really. It’s not like he didn’t know what a sweet little cheerleader you were when you were prancing around his office with the shortest skirts known to man and a coquettish blink of your long lashes. But it’s different when it’s some two-bit, middle aged non-sorcerer with a five o’clock shadow.

It’s different when it isn’t him. Even you must know that. You must feel it.

The sky’s darkening as your conversation goes from enthusiastic to clearly flirty, letting your giggle ring out down the lane— as he makes up the last bit of distance. The guy’s probably musty breath reaching you as he swings his arm over your shoulder, as he pulls you close. As he fills your head with all kinds of promises that he definitely won’t actually meet as soon as he gets your pretty hands around his cock. He knows it, and he knows that even your innocent, sweet personality would take a hit if that happened. You wouldn’t be able to perform well at work, and maybe even your relationship with Nanami would suffer if you got your heart broken.

There’s a very clear path before him that ends right where you’re walking up the steps towards your door, and those pretty lips form words he can’t focus on. He walks up to the door, and only now do you glance behind you and your pretty eyes go curiously wide at him. “Nanami?” You’re so fucking cute. But that stupid fucking arm around your shoulders is in his way. It blocks you from view, and ruins the sight. It’s a bother. There’s only the faintest hints of  jealousy and rage left in his veins - when he gives you a quick nod, then turns towards the guy who’s now got an awfully dumb expression on his face. It reminds him a little of a curse, blank and narrowed and disturbed. He feels eerily calm, really. It’s a simple problem with a simple solution, isn’t it.

“What are you doing here-” you start to say, before you stumble back.

Blood splatters all over, and with an awfully easy motion that stupid head rolls and drops to the floor. It’s quick, and there’s a few seconds where he waits for the resistance. The uncomfortable feeling of guilt. But it doesn’t come—

Until your shaky hand clutches almost painfully onto his shirt, pinching him. “H- Nanamin. What the hell do you think you’re doing? What did you-” You gasp, breaking off into a choked cry when your eyes take in the sight before you, before squeezing your eyes shut entirely and starting to shake harder. “What’s- why?! What did you do? Why did you do that?! I can’t- I can’t even- what- why?!”

You shove him aside, and his foot lands in the mess as you fumble sticking the key into the lock— too shaky to control your own extremities well. But your mouth still hasn’t stopped running. “Stay away! Go away! You’re- I- hick- I don’t wanna look!” You finally manage to get the key turned by the time the tears are making your cheeks entirely shiny, snot running and lip wobbly like a five year old— and sink down into a crouch to start sobbing it out into your arm. “You just killed a-an-” You can’t even make it halfway through without breaking out into another squeak. “F-for no reason. I invited him here- seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

Your face doesn’t come up again for breath until he grabs you by the arm to help you up, and you shove at him again, almost yelling this time. “No, no, no no no! Leave me alone!” This little scene you’re making is gonna attract attention, you know. “Leave me alone, I want to go in!” Before the situation can get out of hand, he pushes your door open enough to toss you inside, and the body after you. There’s a muffled little whimper from you when it lands with a thump on your floor. But as soon as he closes the door, the surge of adrenaline calms.

He just has to explain it to you, give him a minute.

“I don’t wanna- I don’t-”

For some reason, the entire situation winded him, and his beating heart bangs loudly in his chest. He drops his weapon aside and kicks off his shoes, and goes to you— where you’re cocooned in your own arms, knees to your chest. “Hey, it’s-”

“Leave me alone!” you squeak, knocking his hands away from you, only briefly looking up. “Go. Hck- go away!” You’re crying so much that your eyes are red and your cheeks puffy. But he still grabs you by your arms and hauls you up into his chest, ignoring the way you make yourself dead weight. Brat. He wants to say it, but he’s pretty sure you wouldn’t be too happy to hear it at this very moment. It’s not like he blames you. He’s always tried to shield you from the more gruesome parts of the occupation as much as possible. Of course you’d be upset. “Nanamin~” you whine.

“Shhh, just calm down. It’s all good now.” His heart still beats so loud. Maybe he was angrier than he first imagined. He carries you -much to your dismay, if your sniveling cries are anything to go off- out of the hall and into your bedroom. Where it smells of perfume and girly body lotion, and so overwhelmingly like you it takes him aback a little. You’re still crying, and still talking- but he does his best to drown it out in favor of explaining. See, he’s always been such a sucker for you. Swallowing down the slight rasp in his voice, he allows you to drop back into your bed, and looks down at you. You’re still pretty even with your eyes clenched closed, and crying like a baby. “There, ‘s okay.”

He runs his thumb along your eyes, then settles down next to you on the plush mattress. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Listen-”

“How can I -hck- listen?!” You’re quick to turn your face away from him, and wrap your arms around yourself a bit tighter— probably unaware of the distracting way you push up your tits that way in that little implication of a dress. Really, Nanami swallows, you can obviously do much better than that loser that’s probably staining your carpet at the entrance. Your lip wobbles again, before you suck it into your mouth. “I don’t know what- or how- but that isn’t okay, Nanamin. I just-”

So again, he tries to get your attention, this time by grabbing your arm. “Just listen. I did it for you- if this was anyone else I wouldn’t have been so pressed.” It’s true. No one is a priority like you are. “I had to.”

“What are you talking about? How- is killing someone- oh god, there’s a dead guy in my house, Nanamin! I don’t k- what am I gonna do? Why would you-”

“I’m trying to tell you something.” His voice is lower and sharper this time, and your eyes finally shoot open to look at him. But it isn't that adoring little look you normally have, and somehow that pisses him off too. You really need to have everything spelled out for you, huh. He loves you though, really, he genuinely, genuinely does. As more than just an equal— if he could, he’d give you everything. He just doesn’t know how to say it, staring back at the wobbly tears on your face. “I love you,” is what ends up coming out, and then a breath.

And he’d say more if you weren’t such a talker.

Your face goes a little distant for a few seconds, before you shake your head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I will tell you, if you just-”

“I can’t accept that, senpai! You can’t just go around and kill-”

“I was protecting you!”

“From what?!” Before you even give him a chance, a real one, you start righting yourself on the bed and run a hand under your nose. And you stare at him with such disbelief and broken trust that it makes him feel a little dizzy. He doesn’t know exactly how he imagined himself spilling his guts, but it wasn’t like this. “You need to leave. And I need to contact someone from the higher ups to- take care of- I don’t even know,” you sob, “I don’t know how any of this goes. That’s so messed up, Kento.” That’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his first name. Scolding him for a choice he made purely for you. He did this for you. “You need to-”

He can’t let the first time end this way.

“Stop talking.”

“Stop talking?” You echo back to him, and glare, also getting up off the bed and farther away from him— and he can’t help but follow. “What did you think was gonna happen? That I wasn’t going to say anything?” As he gets up with you, you walk back a step, and your eyes flick back and forth between him and the door a few times. But he chases, and you jump in surprise when your back meets the wall, effectively trapping you between the wall and him. “I- Nanami-”

“Kento.”

You barely blink as you take a sharp intake of air, and then hold your hands up to his chest to keep some space between you two. “Look- just- we can talk about this, but I can’t just ignore that there’s a dead body in my house, Kento.” He’s really sick of you talking. You’re lucky he loves your voice so much, because if it was anyone else, he wouldn’t stand for it. Whatever you see in his expression must have you worried, because that slight defiance that remains gets awfully feeble when he reaches for you this time. “You’re scaring me. Please, just- hck- just back up. Let me process this, and then we can talk.”

“No, all your talking just gets in the way.” Your eyes go wide and a wave of heat washes over your features, making you look even more attractive. If he can’t tell you, he’ll just show you. You’ve got it all fucking wrong. What he feels for you is true love. Before you can go on another mad ramble, he grabs you and drags you back to bed, as gently as he can while having his hand screwed tight around your wrist. He wouldn’t ever actually hurt you. As you land on the bed, he holds you down— watching as you open your mouth to talk. But you can’t, because he’s already shoved two fingers between your lips and feels the way your hot, wet tongue squirms as he pushes them down your throat. “There, that’s better.”

Still you’re trying to talk, it’s almost funny. You whine around his fingers and gag when you can’t, breathing his name into an uncomfortable moan that just turns him on. You try to pull your head away, but you can’t. “You’re a lot sweeter when you’re not running your mouth sometimes, baby.” He can’t help it, it just comes out. He likes you so much, and you just look so cute gagging on his fingers and grabbing his sleeve like you’re not sure whether or not to pull or push. Tears start welling up along your waterline when he runs his fingertips over your soft, pink tongue. And his cock twitches in his pants.

That’s the good part, see. Even with all this fighting, you two still get along so well. You make him a better man when he’s around you. At least, in theory. He’s not crazy, he knows that holding you down and making you choke on his fingers isn’t really the best course of action -but you left him no choice- and he’s better off finishing what he started. “If you shut up,” he draws his fingers out of your mouth to start unzipping his pants, “I’ll let you breathe. If you don’t, I’ll make sure you won’t want to talk again.” It’s all up to you, pretty girl. Simple cause and effect. You take one sharp breath as you try to get out from under his weight, but there’s really nowhere you can go.

So you do what you do best, and whine. “Nanami~” It’s a baby-ish little whimper that makes him name sound so fucking good. But still. He grabs your face to squish your cheeks, and stares down at you with such intensity that you keep your cries in.

“It’s Kento.” His voice is a low, soft rumble. He wonder if it gives away the way his body feels right now, standing above you while his cock strains against his pants. They’re getting too tight to be comfortable. “Or daddy- you like that better? Say it.” You shake your head into his grip -but your ears start glowing another color brighter, almost like he’s caught you in a lie. Of course you do. You and him are made to be together. You let out another little squeak before he lets go of you to start undoing his pants. 

That apparently seems to be too much, because suddenly you’re trying to get up as you speak. “No, no, I’m not-” You’re trapped when he forces you back down and now yanks your head back by your hair, making you cry again. “Ow, please senpai— I like you, I really do- but I can’t- I- hang on.” The heat crawls up his neck to his ears watching your eyes go big as the belt falls and his pants go down his thighs. You really do look good on your fucking knees.

“I told you to stop yapping, didn’t I?” He asks in return, and finishes sliding his boxers down, kicking them aside. Then he pulls your face towards his cock and watches as you whine. “Open up for daddy. There’s only one thing your mouth’s good for.” You’re so easy to hold in place, and it sends unimaginable gratification through his body when your little tongue comes out for him. You’re really such a brat, making everything so fucking hard for him. 

You open your mouth enough for him to start pushing inside at just the slightest yank of your hair, making you whine and whimper as you shuffle around between his legs. Your hands come to rest on his thighs, but that doesn’t hold him from sliding the hot head of his cock as far as he can into your mouth right away. You look amazing drooling all over his cock, choking when he starts to move with the most patient moves he can manage. It’s not easy to do much of anything except rock himself on your soft tongue and feel your whining go down his shaft and balls. “There, now you’re making yourself useful. That’s what you do best, hm, fucking brat?”

“Agh, fuck- that’s- such a soft little mouth.” You make him feel heavenly, and by the way you’re shifting down there on the floor -trying and failing to get the friction you want- you’re also feeling it. He can tell by the way you blink up at him so slow, swallowing around him and letting that pretty voice out in the cutest, little moans. Just for him. Only ever for him. “You’re so lucky you’re this fucking cute,” he ends up rasping out, before letting you finally pull back to breathe when you start jittering. “Say something smart again, brat.”

“Agh, daddy,” you sob, drool spilling down your chin, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can tell you are. Your big eyes glossy and cheeks hot, you try to get up from the floor, and he yanks you up to turn you over instead. Your little dress rides up too easily, giving the rest of the way when he shoves it up your back. It’s almost embarrassing to see how wet you are, lacy panties soaked all the way through and peeled too easily aside to reveal that needy pussy. And you don’t even deny it, just shiver when he runs his finger up and down your slicked up cunt. “Please.”

He’s such a sucker for you, fuck. It’s almost like you know it. “My little cock slut, look at that. You’re dripping down your thighs, brat.” He spits on your center once before lining up and sliding in, and watching as your little pussy stretches around his cock with some effort— as you let out a lewd, almost desperate whine. “Fuck.” And Nanami hoists himself over you to start fucking into you, hips meeting your ass as he bottoms out, as you open your legs further to let him in. Your back half hangs pathetically over the end of the bed as he fucks into your tight, hot -so fucking hot and wet and beaming- pussy and his balls clap against you. You feel so good it’s hard to hear anything over his own heartbeat hammering wildly against his ribs.

“Daddy feel good inside?”

“Mhm, agh-yea.”

You too, baby. Nothing in the world feels as good as letting your pussy swallow and suck him in deeper, like you’re trying to hold him in that impossibly hot, blissful clutch forever. He can’t even hear much of your whining and moaning and pitiful struggle, but you probably haven’t stopped. You don’t even have the energy to close your mouth, trying to push back to meet his thrusts more even as he bumps against the end of your pussy— and his one hand is squeezed around your neck. But you look pretty this way. You look useful.

“Tell me how much you like me.”“So~ much, so much, fuck. I’m gonna cum, Kento. Daddy.” Your mouth’s still running when he snakes his hand underneath you to start rubbing at your puffy clit, and feels the way his own body starts to tighten when your walls clench wildly around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I want you to cum too, want to feel it- I wanna have you deep inside me forever, ah, ah. Oh, you feel so good, fuck.” It’s almost ironic when he thinks about it. How much he likes you running your mouth like this, begging for more. It’s poetic.

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#nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #tw.noncon #tw.murder #tw.blood #tw.dark content #tw.yandere #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.nanami

[leviathanleva]

Daisy

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader [DARK FIC]

Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

........................

[MDNI, Mention of Suicide, Smoking, Non-consensual Choking, Alcohol Consumption]

[6.6k words] 🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 9 "The Glass"

Good things never lasted.

You were going to get a bitter reminder of that little fact by the end of the day and looking back, you wished you’d just died the night before when you were happy.

Cooper had left before sunrise, rasped a few commands to stay put and that he wouldn’t be long, to talk to Mitzi if you needed anything and put it on his tab. You’d been too drowsy to consider the anomaly, him leaving you to your leisure, out of his sight for more than a few moments. Your answer had been barely coherent, muffled into the pillow as your body lay squished between the mattress and the ghoul. Sloppy palms had given your plushy hips a few squeezes, a brash peck or two to your shoulder and he was gone.

You awoke properly a few hours later, late into the morning. The bleary memories flooded back, but the warm sunlight and the clinking and buzz of life stirring from the main floor kept the dread from sinking too deep.

He’d be back, you weren’t abandoned, the leathery bandolier discarded on the couch said as much, it eased your uncertainty the moment you’d spotted it behind a curtain of messy hair. And until then, Mitzi would be your consolation. Harmless naivety had you imagining serving customers and clearing up tables while indulging in idle chatter together, counting caps and scribbling orders while immersed in a lighthearted repartee.  

After a prolonged yawn and a thorough stretch that earned a few satisfying pops from your back, you slid from beneath the heavy, woolen comforter. Your boots are neatly set on the floor beside the foot of the bed, tights stuffed inside one of them while your socks occupy the other; you fiddle with them, pull them on, and tie them securely.

A peculiar, but not unfamiliar symphony catches your attention and you peek out the window curiously. The huddled, snoozing brahmin from last night are now serenely moping around the front yard, grazing at the scarce weeds that sprout around the vegetable garden or sunbathing on the powdery ground. There’s a person tending the plants, clad in a large straw hat and baggy clothes, ankles deep in mud and with an empty bucket on their hip along with a pair of rusty sheers.

Fingers comb through your hair and pat it down to a barely presentable state before you rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll the stiffness out of your shoulders. Standing, you shake the numbness off and tap the tip of your shoes into the floor to set them in place.

The smell of coffee lingers, sharp and bitter, it leads you through the mouldering corridor and down the creaky stairs, into the bar. The music still plays and the shadowy figures are now nothing more than brooding travelers nurturing either a hangover or sleeplessness. Daytime is less kind to the appearance of the guesthouse, specs of dust can be spotted in the brash sunrays flooding through the windows, the time-touched signs on every bit of furniture are obvious now. The omnicity and furtiveness have vanished, all is mundane and regular; the cigarette smog yet persists, rivaled only by the stench of old grease being reheated to prepare the breakfast items from the menu.

“Cooper’s runt.”

Your head snaps to the bar and there stands a beefy woman who would easily beat most if not all her clientele in arm wrestling. A stick-and-poke tattoo of a cupid is proudly displayed on her shoulder, a mane of curly black hair is tied back into a low ponytail, beady eyes are eating you up like a snack and you instinctively straighten out some of the less defined creases in your dress.

“Uh…Good morning?” you bear an uneasy smile, hoping that her comment was one of bluntness and not hostility.

The gold in her mouth glints as she beckons you closer with a canine grin.

“Indeed a good mornin’. Not a single raider got cooked on the fence yesterday and m’ dogs didn’t stir all night!” leaving the pile of caps for later, she rests an elbow on the counter and extends a hand to you. “I’m guessing Mitzie was too hyper to give me a proper introduction. Happens sometimes when unfamiliar faces stop by, don’t mind ‘er.” you shake her hand with hesitancy and pull away too hastily for someone who’s trying to mask their intimidation. She scoffs at your skittish nature. “M’ name’s Monique, owner of this fine establishment.”

As if on cue with you sitting on one of the bar stools, a strikingly large hound pokes its head from behind the mass of stained coffee cups yet to be cleared for washing and greets you with a bellowing bark. You start with a choked cry and recoil as the furless beast strains forward with a twitching snout, eager to give you a good sniff.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Bucky, down!” Monique is quick to scold the dog and its once perked ears lower, the energetic whining, however, doesn’t waver. “What I tell you ‘bout scaring customers? You ain’t a pup no more.”

She pushes down on his massive head until he’s out of sight, but the visually grotesque mutt is far from discouraged. Carrying the heart of a Labrador, he’s set to complete his innocent mission of establishing a new friendship and add it to his vast collection.

You hear the patter of clawed paws and soon he reappears, having circled the counter and now eagerly sat beside your chair, beaming up at you while his curious nose pokes at the side of your thigh. Your first instinct is to stiffen, Bucky isn’t the only mongrel you’ve seen, but the rest had all been rabid and out for blood, driven mad by both homelessness and radiation.

“He don’t bite.”

You vaguely register his owner’s quip, attention glued to the shiny slobber being happily spread over your tights.

There are dogs like Cujo and dogs like Lassie and your caution was founded, but it was doing Bucky a disservice. Poor bud was pleading for a pat and a good belly rub. Gathering enough courage to still the shakiness of your fingers, you plant them gently over the pooch’s wrinkled forehead and let them rest there to see his reaction. He’s delighted, the stump of a tail on his butt almost vibrating when you reach to scratch behind his chewed-up ear.

“Good pup.” you mirror his doggy grin, lovingly assaulting him with both hands now and he’s happily melting against your leg, snout stuffed into your dress and dampening it with open mouthed, hot huffs. “He’s lovely.”

“Of course!” Monique shrugs with a prideful snort. “I trained ‘em.” she’s back to counting yesterday’s profit while comparing separate piles to the list of orders.

Once Bucky has melted into a satisfied puddle on the floor you’re left to awkwardly eye the place while mulling over what to say next or if you should at all. Without Cooper standing between you and the world, it became difficult to find your courage and be your own entity. You’d never been apart, you’d grown co-dependent and not only on his marvelous gunslinging but on his presence as a whole. Starting from him being your only means of familiarity and safety, to you clinging to him now as your single source of comfort. You relied on him for everything. If that bit of info had been obscured before, pushed to the back of your mind due to bigger problems needing solving, now it was blatantly obvious.

 The bartender was no danger, she was great albeit a little rough around the edges, and her pet being this friendly spoke more than words ever could. Still, a mental barrier prevented your voice from showing. You were mute and bolted to the stool until an event requiring a change happened.

“So you here to chat or can I getcha anything?”

Monique, the absolute angel of a woman, had finished up her daily counting of caps and was expectantly staring you down. You doubted she was aware of her kind act, but were grateful regardless because if she hadn’t spoken up you never would have, not for a while at least.

“Is there coffee?” you perk up at the offer, display the sweetest smile you can make up, and drown the dreary train of thought that had been on its way to ruin your day.

“Mitzie! Cup o’ coffee for Doe Eyes!” she leans back to holler at the kitchen door, then turns to you. “Ten caps.”

You had a nickname already, how quaint.

“Actually, can you put it on C –”

“– I’ll pay.” your second favorite ghoul steps out of the kitchen with a tray in hand and you were expecting her to be just as cheery as the previous night if not more, but she’s anything but. “You can make it up to me with a good chat, yeah?”

She’s looking at you with incomprehensible unease which sparks worry in your gut. There’s a weight to her movements, something fowl plaguing her that can’t be blamed on just lack of sleep, but by her droopy eyes, you can tell that’s also a factor.

“…Sure?” is all you manage before she sits beside you and pushes the steaming mug towards you.

“Ma, I’m sorry. Can you please serve breakfast for me? I’ll take over after this, just…” she doesn’t finish, the rest of the words between her and Monique are exchanged non-verbally and the stout woman flares up.

You expect her to say something by the way her jaw tightens and her beady eyes narrow, she doesn’t. Instead, she spares you a glance that lingers too long for it to be anything but disheartening and leaves. You follow her until she’s out of sight, made anxious by their queer exchange and vaguely acknowledging the unbearably scalding cup of coffee in your hands.

“Right…Before I say anything I want you to at least consider my words, okay?” there’s an urgency to her voice, she’s drumming her fingers over the counter, and her baby blues turned ghostly grey are glued to you to make sure your attention is solely centered on her. “This isn’t just me spouting shit to scare you off or stir trouble.”

It’s unnerving, Mitzie’s shift of character is turning your friendliness into apprehensiveness. You’d be empathetic to her perturbed state, but all emotion is overwhelmed by the incessant foreboding forming a lump in your throat.

“What?” you blurt while nervously tracing the edge of the cup. Shifting more comfortably into your stool, you lower until you’re nearly lying on the bar with ears strained and a whirring mind. “Mitzie, what’s going – ”

 “ – Promise me.”

There is nothing subtle about the way you’re etching closer to her, anyone with one good eye would spot the direness in your conversation. What you wished for was to know why there were such macabre undertones to her speech. A night had passed since you’d last seen each other. What could have possibly happened for her to look as though she was about to attend a funeral?

With the way she’s positioned, body directly facing you and her head slightly rolled to the side, she can easily switch from watching you to checking the entrance of the guesthouse. She does just that, gaze darting back and forth and waiting for something, anticipating. It’s nerve-wracking, makes your stomach coil.

What the hell is going on?

“I…Sure, okay. I promise.” you answer, obliging her in the hopes that it eases some of her worries. “What’s going on?”

She nudges you to drink before your coffee gets cold, then combats your question with her own.

“How long have you known Cooper?”

“Couple months…Why?” your best efforts to keep an even, soft tone fail and your reply comes out curt and snappy.

“What do you know about him?” she gives you no room to breathe, fires another inquiry even with your apparent skepticism towards the conversation.

The music and simmering liveliness are drowned out by the steadily increasing beat of your heart. Your surroundings fade, blocked from your peripherals until it’s only you, Mitzie and Bucky as he soundly snoozes in your feet. You envy him and his ignorance.

Her question does more damage than intended.

Truthfully, you know nothing of your short-tempered companion, you wouldn’t even know his name if it hadn’t been for the slip-up in Tillburry. You’d based his adamance of keeping you uninformed on his lack of trust, but by the incredulous way Mitzie had asked, you began doubting that excuse. You’d traversed enough land and shared countless nights huddled together, sharing a meal, sharing everything, watching each other’s backs. Surely by now, you’d earned the right to know at least his age, yet he’d revealed nothing to you. You light up the conniving musing with the scalding heat of your drink and let simmer away as you respond.

“I mean…Not much, but –”

“– Fucking typical…” she snarls, doesn’t let you finish, already knowing the answer, her gaunt features turn malignant, and the grimace she bears is bone-chilling. Mitzie checks the horizon beyond the freshly wiped windows, shifts uncomfortably, as if ladened by her uniform, and continues with urgency. “Listen to me, I know his words probably outweigh mine, I mean, we’re not really friends you and I. And you don’t have to believe me…but for your own sake I hope you do.”

She’s gesturing down with her hand, palms spread and visible to soothe your hastily dissipating patience. Your prickliness doesn’t wane and the more she tries to tame it while spouting gibberish the worse it gets. You cross both legs and arms, barricading your tumultuous heart from the trepidatious babbling and letting go of the politeness keeping the bubbling vulgar words out of your vocabulary.

To hell with manners and formalities if you were going to be interrogated without being given a reason why.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He’s not a good man.” she whispers while cupping her mouth and it’s low, but with enough certainty for you to hear perfectly. “Cooper. He’s bad…real fucking bad.”

“You aren’t telling me anything new.” you shake your head with a series of blinks, unmoved. Her deciding to sit you down and work you up for a serious conversation to tell you this while Cooper is away instead of simplifying it to a passing comment while she’s working is more of a surprise than the information itself.

Was this fiasco truly about the bounty hunter’s moral compass? Really?

“You don’t get it…” she clasps a hand over her forehead with a pained expression and a groan, then lets it slide down to rub her eyes. “He doesn’t care about anybody. He sure as fuck doesn’t care about you. You just can’t see it yet.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it?” you deflect with a half-frown. “I mean, sure. He’s not great, but he’s been patient with me, he’s a good friend. He’s kept me alive so far when he could have left me behind plenty of times.”

“Yeah? Good friend?” there’s mockery hanging off every word, then Mitzie pauses as if debating whether she should say more. For a moment she’s mournful, regretful that she’s burdened with ripping apart the delusion you’ve lived in thus far. “So did he tell you he has a family?”

The world stops, you falter.

“What?”

To behold a human break from the utterance of so few words is a sad imagery.

“Told me one night when he was high off his ass.” her words cut deep, slice through your cool demeanor until you’re left bare before the raw turmoil that beats you down until you’re physically doubling over. She grips your hand as a reminder that she’s still there and not hurting you out of spite. “A daughter and a wife. He’s looking for them, Honeybee. He isn’t making friends with you, he’s using you.”

You look at her hand over yours. It reminds you of his.

“That’s not…”

Unlike her who is high on alert and jumping at every creak or shuffle, you’re far away. Ripped out of your body as her truths knock on your skull and try to sink it, you’re scrambling to regain feeling in your legs, fighting to remember how to move your lips to form a coherent sentence. Heat rises from the bowels of your stomach to the peak of your neck, nips at your ears until you’re conscious of their existence, and submerged in an almost deafening screeching.

“His daughter’s name is Janey. Ask em yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Searing pinches assault your scalp, you scratch them away, but more appear and you’re left pulling at fistfuls of hair to ease some of the pulsing tension rendering your vision doubled. You have to grip the counter before you tumble off the chair, any sign of balance or proper motor function is gone, overshadowed by that screaming that’s tormenting your hearing and making your teeth ache.

A daughter…a wife…

You’d had your tongue ravaging the mouth of someone’s husband. What the actual fuck. You would have let him take you if he’d so wished.

Cooper falls in your eyes then, his pedestal – desecrated, his value – diminished. You hoped the love would die, that your affection would flee just as fast as the shame had settled. But it doesn’t, he’d made damn sure you’d stay a loyal bitch, had worked your cogs from the start until you were enamored.

You felt disgusting, wanted to crawl out of your skin.

“Mitzie…” sullen, destroyed, humiliated, still you defend him, still you fight against the stinging reality that burrows into your flesh and writhes until you’re close to hurling. Still, you try to keep the halo above his head from completely cracking while gathering the pieces of your scattered mind, alone, of course, because you know he’d never do what you do for him. “That’s none of my business, neither yours.”

Preserving his reputation while yours crumbles away, pathetic. Have you no self-respect? No. Not when it comes to him.

“Yes it is!” she exclaims, spills too much too brashly in her frustration. “I saw you through the keyhole…last night.”

Her vigor fades at the repulsion plastered on your face. You rip away from her, refusing all contact except that of your hardened eyes burning into hers for answers.

“You were spying on us?”

The bridge she’d built between you was burnt, the gates to your impressionable mind shut before her. The trust she’d earned was stomped and left to rot. That single jumble of a confession thrown in the hopes of convincing you further tore apart any ounce of tolerance you had left.

With a slack jaw, she watches your lids close over guttural anguish and your mouth twitch into a thin line as you hold back the bitter betrayal from surfacing.

“Enough…”

Your voice is unrecognizable.

Fuck her. Fuck him! Fuck everything…

You should have never stopped at this damnable place.

“Wait…Wait, please, wait, wait, wait.” she clings to your arm before you’ve walked too far, baby blues dashing around random spots in search of a proper expression. “I was scared for you.” she confesses over hoarseness due to either a dry throat or uncontrollable emotions. She’s shaking you, desperate to make you understand and giving no fucks about how stupid the pair of you look or how much attention she draws. “You can’t trust him, please listen to me! He’s leading you to slaughter!”

“I don’t trust rats.”

Glistening with stifled tears at the absolute hatred in your snarl, Mitzie loosens her hold and her head dips. Too kind to push her away and leave, too hurt to accept her accusations as the truth, you’re stuck in a limbo of numbness and hollow pain. You’d urge her to cry if she’s so riled up, would have lent a shoulder and cried with her. But there is only so much a person can take.

Blow after blow, you’re left too stunted to express anything despite everything inside you twisting.

“There’s…a place.” she murmurs while tugging you to the stairs where shadows reign to hide both of you from curious onlookers and save you the trouble. “It’s half a day away from here. Super Duper Mart. It’s…It’s an organ harvesting business.”

“I’m not…Get to the fucking point.” you command, but your tone wavers and your mouth shuts before an unsolicited sob escapes.

“Please, let me go…Please…I can’t anymore…”

“Ghouls need a certain substance to stay sane. All of us do. Super Duper Mart sells it. Usually, we sell a kidney to get a few vials, it grows back in a day or two. Or a ton of caps, but not a lot of people can afford that.” she swallows something vile, and rearranges her next words in a way that doesn’t outright spit at everything you’ve known to be your existence so far, your false reality. “Or, we sell someone else’s organs.”

You shudder, lean against the railing before your knees give out, and suck in a shaky breath as the ice licks your spine raw.

“Please don’t…”

“Let me live a lie. Let me die happy.”

“He only stops here when he’s going there.”

“Mitzie.” your warning falls on deaf ears.

“You’re a product, not a person.” she chokes you with harsh facts, steers the reins of your sanity towards a meltdown and it doesn’t take long for your mouth to drip with blood from biting open wounds into your bottom lip. “Not to him.” she catches you when you wobble, blows at your face because you’ve turned ghostly pale. “You need to get the hell out of whatever shit he’s gotten you into. Leave before it’s too late.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to go? I don’t know shit about surviving alone…I depend on him for everything.” you croak and taste bile on your tongue.

“You could stay here…” she mumbles, salving over the gashes she caused. “Could always use another pair of hands, if you’re willing to pay for your supper in labor.” she pats your head, brushes the hair to expose dead eyes staring right through her, but that doesn’t stop her from playing hero. “I talked with ma already, and Cooper isn’t stupid, he wouldn’t pull a gun here. Just tell him you don’t wanna travel with him anymore when he’s back. Or I can do it, I don’t mind.” she’s so kind, a sweet deformed woman, a sisterly guide trying to save you from the jaws of the reaper. “You have a choice. You have a chance. Please…”

But you don’t want her. You want him.

You wave a deathly calm hand and draw an end to her verbal molestation. Whisked away by the last burst of energy available, your back greets her as you ascend the stairs, leave her and everything she’s thrown at you behind. Trapped into the premises of your head, you forget speech and hearing as she meagerly calls to you for an answer.

Uncaring for your mental limitations as she is, Mitzie doesn’t pursue. Maybe it’s best you contemplate your next actions in solitude.

Tear-stained vision leads you to the safety of your room before you crumble to the floor, looming over the toilet as you lurch spit and air. You wish to be rid of this entire experience, throw up everything you’ve heard and said.

Nothing comes out.

The ringing subsides along with all worldly sensations just a moment later as you lie limp inside the bathroom with eyes rolled into the back of your head. Darkness has consumed both thought and feeling, lulling you into still nothingness. Steady breaths cast a sheet of vapor over the cool tiles.

Woe is you, weak, pathetic thing, dreaming of adventure and independence, freedom and love. Here is your independence now, your freedom, your love, your pleas were answered. Take them. You’ve wanted them for so long… Take them now.

It’s the scratching that pulls you out of unconsciousness. Fingers twitch to life first, then your senses return albeit groggy and dull. You’ve no interest in company, but the single needy whine amidst the determined scraping makes you overturn that decision.

With no recollection of when you’d fainted or for how long, you’re whimpering and nurturing a heavy migraine.

Bucky, your savior, lets himself in happily when you manage to crawl to the door and open it. The mere sight of him, so glad to see you again and wagging that stump of a tail, draws the last straw of your composure. You claw at him until he’s sitting between your legs, resting a slobbering snout against your shoulder as you weep into his thick neck, possessed by ugly sobs that shake your entire being.

He snaps his jaws a few times, a gentle brute, as you hug him close and suffocate in despair and loathing until you’re spent. He stays with you when you stand on wonky feet and pop a Rad-X before taking a shower that lasts long enough to count for two. Ever loyal and eager, you bathe him as well while he tries to bite the water current.

A clean boy, the goodest of boys, the crutch to your broken self. He licks the droplets off your calves as you let your dress dry you off and don’t bother to towel your hair.

Nobody told you drinking on an empty stomach is a death sentence, but you’re desperate to quiet down your wounded soul and racing imagination so the outcome would have been the same. The bourbon is sweet against your throat, doesn’t burn one but this time and Bucky is a warm, soft pillow to your floating head once it becomes too heavy for your shoulders to bear. Tucked into the couch and comforted by nasal puffs as your companion drifts in and out of sleep, you’re too exhausted to keep crying but the dry, infrequent sobs persist.

An eternity passes before the dog’s ears perk up and you’re woefully unprepared for the discussion that is to come.

The light from the corridor is blinding. The ghoul is standing at the door, a dark silhouette whose shadow stretches far into the room and almost reaches you. A hand comes up to shield your eyes as you groan.

“Well, well, well.” he sneers and switches the lamp on for you to see the demeaning smirk. His expression as a whole is not kind, Bucky, the wonderful boy, is currently in his spot and Cooper isn’t one for sharing. “See you’ve replaced me already.” he gestures towards the exit, holding the door open, and spits a harsh command. “Get!”

You don’t want to be left alone with this man, preferring to leave along with the dog and it shows by the anxiety burdening your features. The alcohol lingers still, makes your limbs feel like stone as you sit up and rub at your reddened, puffy lids.

Your pulse is already picking up speed when he slumps in the chair opposite to you and lights a cigarette before tilting his head back. The question is readied on the tip of your tongue and you’re irritated because it’s so damnably difficult to voice it. You press an attentive hand to your neck to encourage something to come out while the other sinks into your thigh until the flesh changes color.

“Are you gonna sell me, Mister?” you shoot in between plans on how to approach the matter and let loose a curt breath, relieved that it’s out of your system.

The casual swaying of his knee stops.

He straightens up, abandoning his nonchalant posture to give you a good once-over with the smoke secured between his lips.

You’re an unmistakably macabre sight even under the weak glare of the dying lightbulb. Bloodshot orbs nestled into a saggy face, sucked-in lips framing a ghost of a frown, he couldn’t see how contorted your body was from behind the table, but by the hung shoulders and lowered neck it’s obvious the rest of you isn’t pretty.

There’s a great amount of bourbon missing when he decides to pour himself a glass midway through his examination.

But all those factors can’t compete with the title you’d used to address him.

Mister.

You hadn’t used that since you’d learned his name and it was the first red flag he’d picked up, a warning that something was terribly amiss, that something vital had occurred while he’d been gone and now it’s his turn to have a taste of it.

“I’ve entertained the thought.” he scoffs through a meager smirk. You give him a look that washes away all hues of jokingness, the tiny hint of concern he displays would have been comforting, but you’ve been disturbed to where his crumbs of affection are useless. His hat is tipped to one side, guarding his shifting expression as he asks: “Was goin’ on, Darlin’?”

You want to scream. Yell all that you’ve been told and beg him to assure you none of it is true because, for God’s sake, he’d kissed you the night before and now you know he has a family waiting for him somewhere. You want Mitzie to be the villain who’s causing mischief for the sake of it because he’s your hero and he’s supposed to save the day. Deep down, you know your wishes will go unanswered and maybe that’s why you don’t completely break down before him.

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve anything.

“Are you going to sell me?” you repeat with more force and less uncertainty, fueling yourself with enough malice to keep you from backing out of the confrontation. You won’t falter, you refuse.

“Who you been talkin’ to?”

He’s evasive and it’s tugging at your nerves. Despite your desperation for answers, you decide to at least respond properly, you’re weakhearted unlike him, you’re prone to show sympathy.

“Mitzie.” a hand comes up to rub away the goosebumps on your upper arm and your gaze steers away from his. You’re not keen on putting Mitzie in the spotlight, but you’d rather be truthful, maybe it will push him towards reciprocating. Guilt sprouts in your chest before you curtly remind yourself that you’re not the bad guy here. “She told me a few things…”

His apprehensive visage turns vicious, lanky limbs become taut, and his clothes squeak in strain as he settles into a less open posture. If he’d had any intent on taking down walls to let you in, it had died by the utterance of that name. His lips are pulled back in a nasty snarl.

“Should’a stuffed a bullet down ‘er throat long time ago.”

It’s an insult to you and your intelligence, he’s painted you as gullible while dismissing Mitzie’s credibility without even giving a reason. He doesn’t need to defend his stance, either you believe him or you don’t and you have for the longest time, but when so much information has been thrown at your face regarding him and he can’t even refute the claims, you’re left second-guessing.

“You’d rather kill her than answer my question?” you’re revolted at his savage revelation and it shows in the twisted way your tone lowers. But you're empathetic even to the undeserving and watching him lash out like a cornered animal causes you to soften. “You know I’d trust your word over anyone else’s.” your attempt at reaching past the acidic, gruff exterior he’s hidden behind fails, he’s not interested in being vulnerable or deepening your bond, he’d rather stay a feral simpleton. Another insult, another stab at what you’d thought was a connection in the making. You swallow through a tight gullet, pained beyond belief. “You’re despicable.”

“Watch yer mouth, Missy.” he spits back.

He dares to scold you when he’s in the center of the dilemma. He demands respect when he’s the cause of the anguish poisoning your once hallowed spirit. He’s the problem and he has the audacity to treat you like a misbehaving child.

Angry tears weigh on your lashes, you grit your teeth to strangle a sob that threatens to rob you of all the authority and composure you’ve built.

“You never answered my question.”

The lamp flickers in an ominous prediction of his next words.

“And what if I do?” detached, cold; not a human, but a creature made of melted skin and unfathomable disregard for other beings speaks to you. A spiteful, ugly man who you’d grown to cherish so passionately is throwing bile at you because he’s not the misunderstood morally grey Superman you’d hoped for, he’s just a pile of shit and the best you could do is walk away. He’s terrible and he lets you know by continuing to belittle you and all the love you’d shown him. “Gonna snap outta your teenage dotin’ ‘nd see me the way I am?” with a cruel smile, he shrugs. “Told you I’m rotten, Sweetheart. Didn’t listen, did ya?”

You don’t regret what slips off your tongue next.

He deserves all the despair you’ve felt, the betrayal. You’ve long since drowned in hopelessness, submerged in scenarios of how you’ll go on without him as chances were – he’d probably leave after all this, his persona was unmasked, he had no reason to stick around anymore. He should at least be ashamed of his actions, but to do that one needs to have a conscience and so far he’s not shown signs of any.

You don’t mean to stoop to his level, but his ridicule is just that contagious.

“Janey?” a palpable pause, so thick with dread. You don’t leave it there; you plunge the knife deeper. “Is that really your daughter’s name?”

He’s on you in an instant.

Having lunged out of his chair, he’s squeezing your throat so ferociously you choke. He’s ready to kill and by the way his pupils shrink, he just might.

Demonic above you, forcing you down onto the sofa, he looks like he’ll rip you apart.

“Never say that name again. Ever!”

He’s a nightmare. His devastating grimace will forever stay burned into your memory. But for once you’re ready to fight back and you do so with vigorous hatred.

“Don’t touch me you fucking freak!”

You manage to slide your knees between your bodies and kick him with all your might. For the first time, your actions have an effect, he stumbles back, nearly knocks the table over. You’d thrown him off with such force it surprises both of you. Delicate things can also be fierce. But were you delicate? Not anymore, not like before. The wasteland had taken its toll on you, he had as well. Stripping you of all your beauty, now you were just like the rest of them – cruel, gross, burdened, haunted.

“Don’t ever touch me you manipulative, disgusting, vile – ” you jut a shaky finger at him, longing to berate him all night, but your voice cracks and you shut your mouth as if he hadn’t already seen how shattered you are.

You suck in a tattered breath and stand. The barrel of his pistol points at you as you lean closer, he cocks it without hesitation, but you don’t flinch, instead grabbing for the matches and box of cigarettes he’d left next to his now spilled drink. Maneuvering sluggishly, you sit on the windowsill, facing away as he audibly plops back in the chair and slams his glass into the table before pouring another batch of bourbon. Like drowning in alcohol could fix all this shit…

Typical for him, you’re not surprised.

Never in your life have you lit a match, but you’d rather waste his entire box than ask him for help. You pinch a smoke between your lips, your first and hopefully last, strike the match and it flares to life.

Bitter and chalky, leaves your tongue dry and your head light, a physical manifestation of death, you like the taste and the suffocating fumes that circle your nose despite the open window. You’re supposed to cough and recoil, throw it away because it’s suicide wrapped in paper, instead, you look back and toss the two little boxes to their owner, hoping to hit him.

The night is cold, the chill is pleasant against your skin, it sweeps away a part of the haze you’d been engrossed in during the day.

“You never told me you had a family.” it’s more of a shared thought than a statement; you stare up at the sky, dangling one bare foot into the air until the steady breeze numbs your toes. “Never told me you were looking for them.” your battle zest dissipates as you continue mumbling out the decrepit sorrowful melody of your heart. “Never told me fucking anything…”

“My family ain’t none o’ your concern.” comes a hiss from behind you to deter your scornful moping. You scoff at that, shake your head at your stupid, unwavering faith in him rather than his reply.

You’re still trying to find a spec of goodness after all this, it’s laughable.

“I thought we were friends…or…or partners.” you toss the cigarette bud when the flame scalds your fingers, let the smoke exit your lungs through a heave. “You’re supposed to share with me!” hands obscure your face from the world as you suffer through a few sobs and swallow mouthfuls of tears. “I care for you so much…I’d do anything for you. But you’re just – ”

He’s cruel though, whether screaming and kicking or on your knees crying, it makes no difference to him. He doesn’t care. Did he ever?

“We ain’t no friends.” he states it as the fact it is. “We ain’t nothin’.”

“You’re right…” you nod, giggle even as you wipe your cheeks dry. “Friends don’t sell each other for organ harvesting.”

You never heard the new batch of vials clinking in his coat pocket, didn’t see the freshly stitched scar in the middle of his back, where his kidney used to be. How were you supposed to know when he never told you anything?

So it comes as a surprise when he throws the spare glass and it shatters next to your head and makes you wince. His sudden burst of anger is a mystery and it’s his own fault.

For once he’d been good, for once he’d put someone else before himself and this is what he got.

 “You know what’s really pathetic?” you let go of a bitter laugh, wet and putrid, but it’s shortlived, you return to curling up and mumbling because he doesn’t deserve to know how precious he is to you, but you want to let it all out and be done with this. “The only reason why I’d be sad if you sold me is that I’d be away from you.”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that…”

A blip of something other than rage or mock, but he’s too late to the party. You’ve already dedicated to demolishing all that he’s poisoned with his touch, all his self-control and stoicism.

“I’d rather die by your hand than be taken away.” you glimpse down at the shards scattered next to your thigh to find your reflection in much the same state - broken. “I’m a coward, I guess. I never wanted this life…but I’m too scared to end it myself.”

Crack

Crack

The glass shatters in his hand, the only reminder left of the paradise from the night before, he’d broken both of them, first yours, then his. The pieces spread, deftly falling to the floor as the bourbon drips from the edge of the table.

 “Good night, Mister.”

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🌼 Daisy Masterlist 🌼

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@skykaykay @i-just-like-to-read @landlockedmermaid77 @enaelyork @maeplaysbass

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#cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv series #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #x reader #fallout the ghoul #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard fic

[uncouth-the-fifth]

good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!

At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.

Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.

Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.

But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.

Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.

You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—

Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?

You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?

The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.

Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.

You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.

She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.

For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.

You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.

Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—

Keys rattle just outside the front door.

First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.

Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.

You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”

“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.

If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.

“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.

You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”

Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.

Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.

He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?

Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.

“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.

Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.

He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”

Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.

You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.

One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—

“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”

—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.

With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.

Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.

One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.

“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”

You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”

Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”

Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.

“My smart girl,” he hums.

Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.

“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.

His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.

“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.

It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.

This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.

You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.

You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.

With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.

You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”

Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.

Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”

You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”

A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy/reader #resident evil #resident evil four #re4 remake #leon kennedy drabble #uncouthre

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 4

Summary: Reader goes shopping with Pepper, Wanda and Nat. It ends a bit early though when reader starts to struggle with her senses.

TW: overstimulation, flirting, speeding, domestic fluff (hehe)

Words: 3.8K

A/n I changed the floor layout my bad. Also, I planned like 16 chapters of this fic so far and there will probs be more. Now i’m just worried I’ll end up loosing interest and not finishing it 😭 and I’ve been up since 2am. I slept for two hours 💀

After a dinner of pizza and other takeaway foods Tony had bought, Wanda and you headed back to the floor with Peters room.

Stepping out of the lift Wanda led you to where you had been staying for the past few days while Nat went ahead to your new room put sheets on your bed.

Your room would be on the same floor as Natasha and Wanda’s. It was also where Yelena and Kate stayed when they were in town as well as Carol when she was on earth.

You reached the door and headed into peters room. It didn’t take long to gather your things. You grabbed the backpack with some clothes in it, all of which were dirty by now as well as your tablet, computer and sketching supplies.

Once you had shoved most of it into the bag and had your laptop in your arms you followed wanda back out the door.

Despite your very comprehensive tour of the compound, you still didn’t know where you were going.

Wanda and you got back into the lift and set out for your new room.

The lift was filled with idle chatter as Wanda caught you up on the avengers love lives. Tony and pepper were together while the rest were still living the bachelor life.

Feeling a little bold you decided to ask her.

“What about you?” You asked. “Are you seeing anyone?” You clarified when she shot you a confused look.

“Not currently.” Wanda said studying the rarely used buttons on the lift. Jarvis often did all of that for you.

“Ok cool.” You said before stuttering. “I mean not ‘cool’ but its not uncool” you began rambling only cut off by the angelic sound of Wanda’s giggles.

Your cheeks were rosy as she smiled at you.

“Your cute when your flustered.” She said with a wink just as the doors opened and she stepped out. You were frozen for a second before gathering yourself and following her out half a pace behind.

As you trailed after Wanda down the halls she turned to look over her shoulder at you. “You coming sweetheart?” She asked and you nodded speeding up your steps to walk beside her.

As you rounded another corner she slowed. “This is my room.” Wanda said gesturing to a closed door. “And that’s Nat’s.” She gestured to the door next to hers. “This is your room.” She said walking down to the door halfway between Wanda’s and Natasha’s on the opposite side of the hallway.

The door to your room was open as Nat was sat on your freshly made bed with a grin.

“Wondering when you were getting here.” Natasha smirked making Wanda roll her eyes at her.

You stepped into the room. It was large with a king bed and huge windows that let in natural light, or at least it would if it was daytime. It was past evening now and almost nine pm. The New York skyline was just as beautiful, however.

You set your bag and laptop down on the desk before sitting down next to Natasha on the bed.

The walls were white and grey. There was a big desk near the windows and a bedside table on each side of the bed. A door was off to the side which you assumed led to a bathroom. There was also a second door which must have been a wardrobe. Other than a lamp on the bedside and a Tv mounted on the wall, the room was bare.

“We’ll get thing to decorate when we go shopping tomorrow.” Nat said almost as if she could read your mind. More likely she could read your expression and body language.

“Sounds perfect.” You said with a smile.

“Do you have clothes you can sleep in tonight?” Wanda asked and you shuffled your feet before looking up at her.

“Er… no?” You said.

“Are you asking me or telling me sweetheart?” Wanda asked coyly making a blush rise on your cheeks.

“Telling?” You said still sounding unsure of yourself.

“Very well then. I’m sure Nat and I can find something for you to sleep in for tonight.” Wanda said looking to Nat for her opinion. The widow nodded and you felt yourself relax slightly.

“Thank you guys. I wasn’t looking forward to wearing dirty clothes in a clean bed tonight.’ You said sighing in relief.

“Are all your clothes dirty?” Nat asked eyeing your backpack.

“Yeah.” You huffed.

“We’ll find you something to wear tomorrow as well then, just until we can sort out some new clothes and laundry. Sound good?” Nat asked and you nodded.

“Yes, thank you.” You said.

“No need to thank us darling. Your quite welcome.” Nat purred and you felt yourself resist a shiver as her words danced close to your ear. The hair on the back of your neck swaying slightly under her breath as your skin tingled with the heat of her words.

You swallowed trying to regain your composure much to both women’s amusement.

“T-thanks.” You stuttered.

“Already said that darling.” Wanda chuckled and your blush deepened.

“Your so easy to mess with.” Nat said laughing from beside you.

You just glared at them and went to take the things out of your backpack while Wanda and Natasha left to find some clothes for you in their cupboards.

You had just finished setting down the last of your art supplies on the desk when Nat walked in loosely holding a faded black shield T-shirt that immediately knew was hers from how worn it looked. It also looked to be almost two sizes too big for Nat, so you shot her a questioning look.

She shrugged. “Its comfier to sleep in when its too big, and it kept the other boys I trained with back in the day from being able to stare at my ass.” She said with a wink.

“Whats this about Nat’s ass?” Wanda said walking in with a sly grin as your cheeks heated and you buried your face in your hands with a groan.

You heard the two of them high-five and rolled your eyes.

“Here.” Wanda said and you felt the bed dip beside you.

Wanda was holding out a pair of red track-pants which you took with a smile.

A second later Nat threw the shirt at you with a laugh as it landed on your head. You pulled it off and glared at her.

“You’re a menace.” You declared and Wanda hid a giggle behind her hand.

“Sure thing sweet cheeks.” Nat said rolling her eyes. “Now it’s bed time kiddo.” She said and motioned for wanda to leave as well.

“Im not a kid Romanoff.” You said and she smirked at the use of her last name, having been able to get under your skin successfully.

Wanda cuffed Nat but she ducked and took off down the hall. Wanda rolled her eyes and sighed. “Ignore her, she’s been drinking too much coffee lately.” Wanda said and bid you goodnight before retreating to capture the other redhead and force her to sleep.

You grinned at the shut door like a lovesick puppy before shaking yourself out of it. You changed into the clothes which smelt like them and made you feel safe.

Sliding under the sheets and getting comfy, you listened to the hallways to see if anyone was coming back. When you were met with silence, you reached over your backpack and pulled out a small white stuffed teddy.

Curling up with it under your arm, you buried your face in Nat’s shirt and fell asleep thinking of the two pretty redheads down the hall.

The next morning you were up bright and early. Having slept well for the first time in weeks.

You found your way to the communal kitchen just in time to run into Natasha who was coming back from early morning training in the compound gym.

“Hi Y/n/n.” Nat said smiling as she went to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge.

“Morning Natty.” You said with a smile.

“You're in a good mood.” Nat said looking amused as she took a big swig from the water bottle in her hands.

“Yep.” You said popping the P.

“Do you know if Wanda’s up?” Nat asked and before you could respond someone else did for you.

“I’m up.” Wanda said entering the kitchen.

“Morning.” You smiled.

“Morning Y/n. Who wants breakfast?” Wanda asked gravitating to the pots and pans in the drawers beside you.

“I’ll have some.” You said with a smile as you took a seat by the counter.

“Put me down for some too, I’m just going to go and have a shower before breakfast then we can head out ok?” Nat said as she refilled the water bottle and put it back in the fridge.

“Sounds good.” Wanda said as she began pulling things out of the fridge.

“Umm… where are we going today?” You asked feeling a little lost. Nat had already taken her leave for a shower so it was just you and wanda now.

“Don’t tell me you forgot?” Wanda said looking amused.

“Forgot … what? … exactly?” You asked.

“The girls shopping trip?” Wanda said.

“Oh yeah!” You exclaimed sitting up a little taller in a way that made Wanda’s heart stutter.

“So… how did you sleep?” Wanda asked.

“I slept well, how ‘bout you?” You asked watching as wanda beat the pancake batter within and inch of its life.

“Good, good. It’s a bit hit and miss some nights but last night wasn’t too bad.” Wanda said vaguely as she turned around the pour the batter into the pan.

After Nat returned and the three of you had eaten what could only be described as the best pancakes known to man, you got ready and headed for the garage.

Pepper was meeting you at the shopping centre a bit later after she sorted out some stark industries meetings this morning.

“You ready?” Wanda said putting an arm around your shoulders. You jumped in surprise making Nat laugh and Wanda frown.

“Too busy daydreaming there, Parker?” Nat asked with a grin, and you glared at her.

“No, just planning your murder.” You said with a wink before blow if her a kiss that made Nat roll her eyes at you.

“Alright, enough you two.” Wanda said giving you a small shove before punching Nat in the arm.

“Get in.” Nat said opening a door for you to the backseat and waving her hand toward the car's interior.

“This feels personal.” You grumbled as the two redheads took the front seat.

“It is.” Nat grinned as the engine hummed to life. You were taking one of Tonys’ many fancy, and very expensive cars. Nat’s favourite was the Bugatti La Voiture Noire, but it was only two seats, so you were left with the choice of a Mercedes Mayback or a Ford Mustang both of which had four seats.

In the end Nat had opted for the mustang and the three of you had piled in to head off.

With Nat driving you must have arrived in record time; it was no secret the redheaded assassin was a speed demon and Tony had begun framing her speeding tickets in the garage on the wall. The government always came to her aid if the police ever tried to take her license as it was argued she needed it to quote “save New York”

Of course, you hadn’t known this before hand and had let out a small scream as Nat took off at breakneck speed out of the garage.

One very fast car trip later the three of you were stood by the door the mall waiting for pepper to join you.

It had barely been five minutes before the last redhead showed up. Pepper was actually on time; Nat’s driving had just made you all early.

As pepper walked over Nat decided to tease her a little.

“Picking up on Tony’s habits there, pep?” Nat asked.

“Oh please.” Pepper rolled her eyes. “I’m the only reason he’s even at any of his meetings at all. Without me he wouldn’t just be late, he’d be missing.” She said and Nat laughed.

“True.” The assassin nodded.

“Alright, lets do this.” Pepper said smiling at you and Wanda.

The four of you headed into the mall. It was a little crowded but nobody seemed to mind. You just crossed your fingers that your spider senses stayed in check.

Pepper had barely made it ten feet in the door before she was dragging Natasha into a very expensive looking boutique.

This was how you spent the next hour. Pepper and Wanda dragged you and Natasha around, stopping at every pretty dress shop and expensive looking store in the complex.

After about an hour you were beginning to nurse a small headache and the tingle in the back of your mind told you all you needed to know for what was going to happen.

Nat had just stopped at a rack nearby before pulling wanda over to her. Holding out a dress you saw Wanda’s lips moving as she nodded, and Nat took the dress and disappeared into the change rooms.

It was a tight red cocktail dress and when Nat came back out to show it off you swear your jaw unhinged and landed on the floor.

It hugged her in all the right places.

Wanda was too busy ogling Nat to notice your reaction but pepper snorted a laugh before covering her mouth.

Nat pouted.

“What? Does it not look good?” Nat asked and you shot pepper a pleading look but she just smiled.

“No … no. I’d just say its … jaw dropping.” Pepper said winking at you as you glared at her with flushed cheeks.

“Yeah?” Nat asked raising an eyebrow and shooting you a look. “Then I guess I’ll have to get it then won’t i?” Nat said and you nodded eagerly. “Your lucky your cute Detka.” She said as she brushed past you on her way back to the change room. “Because your drooling.” She whispered in your ear and your blush darkened a good two shades of crimson.

Your headache was still getting worse and about a half hour later it was almost reaching full force.

You had found a dress and Nat was carrying four bags, one with a dress for you and her and the other three had a few random pieces of clothing for your day to day wardrobe and some room décor.

Just as you were beginning to think you wouldn’t be able to take anymore Wanda suggested the four of you get lunch from the café downstairs.

By now you were surprised none of them had noticed your discomfort, despite trying to hide it it was still bothering you.

The fluorescent strip lights that lit the mall were too bright and seemed to be burning your retinas with each blink.

The noise level despite not exceeding regular mall noise levels was almost deafening in your sensitive ears.

Even the mixed smells of fast food and perfumes was making your head swim.

Your headache pounded behind your eyes as well as almost throughout your full skull. There was a buzzing in your ears that sounded like the electricity in the walls that simply wouldn’t shut up.

Your stomach was rolling from the mixed smells and it was just too loud and too bright.

As you slid into the booth next to Nat, with wanda and pepper on the other side facing you, you resisted the urge to crawl under the table and cry.

Your headache thundered in your ears and pounded on your skull.

Your headache was in full force and Pepper must have noticed how quiet you were being as she looked you over with a knowing gaze.

She took note of your pinched brow and slightly sweaty forehead, how you were biting down on your lip and squinting. As well as how you flinched as someone in the café banged their cutlery against their plate.

Wanda noticed peppers look and was now looking at you too with a frown which drew Natasha’s eyes to you as well.

The conversation had reached a lull as all three women studied you. You were too zoned out to notice their attention all being on you.

“Y/n?” Wanda asked slowly.

“Yeah?” You said looking up and sounding absolutely wreaked.

“Are you ok?” Wanda said looking slightly worried.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You said not even believing your own words. Your voice was lathered in a tired tone. You shook your head while saying this only managing to anger your headache more as you winced and brought a hand to your head, squeezing your eyes shut tight.

Feeling nauseous you leant on nat and rested you head on her shoulder. Nat seemed almost surprised at your sudden desire for contact.

She held you close to her as your body relaxed into her side having no more energy to hold yourself up.

“Y/n?” Pepper asked softly.

“Mmm?” You hummed as you vaguely heard shuffling before you sensed someone close to you.

Opening an eye slightly you saw pepper crouching next to you.

“Y/n?” she asked softly. “Do you get the same thing peter does honey?” Her voice stayed low and quiet. You turned your face into Nat’s neck and weighed up your options before giving a small nod.

You miss the frown that adorns Wanda’s lips at the news that something was wrong and pepper seemed to know what it was despite you never having mentioned anything about this.

Pepper stood again and looked over at Nat and Wanda.

“She’ll be alright. Just stay here and I’ll be back. I’ll explain in a minute.” Pepper said and she took off in a brisk walk to a nearby shop.

After pepper had darted off she wove through the crowd and into a tech store, making a purchase before making one more stop and then hightailing it back to the café.

When she returned you’s seemingly not moved an inch while Wanda and Nat were talking in hushed tones. Nat had her arm around you and was holdin the back of your head into her neck as you seemed to be almost trembling from all the overstimulation.

When pepper came back Wanda sat a little straighter while Nat eyes the two new shopping bags pepper was carrying.

Pepper came to crouch beside you giving you a small nudge that set your skin on fire.

“Y/n?” She asked softly. “Can you look at me honey, you can keep your eyes shut, I promise these will help.” She said coaxing you out of Nat’s neck.

You faced her with your eyes squeezed shut as she slid a black pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears and switching them on.

The blissful sound of quiet almost made you cry as your headache lessened. A moment later you felt pepper place something on your face before cautiously opening one eye to find the world dimmer and more tolerable.

Now decked out with the headphones and sunglasses you felt a lot better. You were exhausted and the headache was still present just less intense.

You watched as Wanda, Nat and Pepper conversed, the sound not reaching you. Pepper seemed to be explaining what was happening to them based off the sad look wanda gave you.

Pepper explained that your powers increased your senses, and that in the right conditions they were very helpful in fights. But were more than problematic in a domestic setting. She explained that it wasn’t unheard of for peter to get overstimulated when out or somewhere loud. She went on to tell them she recognised the look peter had when he tried to simple tough it out when they went out.

Wanda felt awful that your powers had caused you pain.

Nat however was already planning to talk to tony about getting something built to help.

Once pepper had explained the extent of the issue and some of the things that helped, the three seemed to change gears, looking to be making plans now instead.

After they had finished talking Pepper decided to try something.

She turned to face you and moved her hands to form some simple signs. Your face lit up in recognition.

*How are you feeling? * Pepper signed.

*tired* you signed back.

Nat and Wanda looked surprised.

“How did you know she knew sign?” Wanda asked.

“Peter seemed to know some when he first was with us.” Pepper explained. “I assumed Y/n might also know some if peter did.”

You could tell what they had asked. “My dad was hard of hearing. He taught us sign at a young age before … he died.” You said and pepper nodded.

*We are going to go home* pepper signed but you shook your head.

*you stay here, I’ll go. I don’t want to ruin things* you signed.

*nonsense* pepper signed and you knew based off Nat’s eyes she was following along.

Nat had learnt sign language from Clint in the academy when they were partners. Clint had insisted in case his hearing aid were ever damaged in a fight.

You sighed realising you weren’t going to win this one.

*ok* you signed and hesitated for a moment before continuing. *thank you*. You signed.

*your welcome* pepper signed back and Wanda offered her hand to you.

Holding Wanda’s hand, the four of you headed for the car park.

You felt bad for ruining the trip, but Nat shot you a look when she saw you getting lost in your head that banished all thoughts.

Once you were in the car, Wanda had insisted on driving. Nat was riding with pepper to try and find out more about what was going on. You kept the headphones and sunnies on the whole ride home as you zoned out slightly.

Wanda droves slowly so she didn’t throw you around while Pepper and Nat sped back to try and organise things for when you get back.

When you arrived, you were almost asleep leaning into the passenger door.

Wanda coaxed you out of the car and led you by the hand up the lift and down the hall to her room.

You were beyond exhausted as Wanda lifted the sheets and got you settled under the thick comforter.

She ordered Jarvis to dim the lights and soundproof the room. She thanked Tony for the added features in her mind as she felt you snuggle into her side.

A few moments later the door opened slightly to reveal Nat and Pepper peaking in.

“Is she asleep?” Nat asked and Wanda studied your breathing.

“Not yet.” Wanda responded.

“Well we have some pain meds for her.” Pepper said as they both came inside and handed wanda a glass of water.

After coaxing you into taking some medicine, you laid back down against Wanda was was massaging your head as you melted in her lap.

Pepper and Nat had dropped by Bruces lab to pick up peters pain meds for you before coming to Wanda’s room where Jarvis said they could find you.

You fell asleep not long after taking the medicine which had finally gotten rid of your headache.

PART 5

#wandanat x r #avenger reader #fanfic #wandanat #natasha romanov #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #comfort #fluff #whump #overstimulation #reader gets overstimulated #spider reader #spiders sister #y/n parker #peter parker #spiderman #pepper potts #tony stark #avengers compound #marvel comfort #natasha romaoff #spider senses #shopping trip #avengers #sign language #slow burn #chapter four #fanfiction

[midnightsxblue]

BACK OFF

carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: i really don’t know o-o

masterlist here!

just an fyi, i edited my masterlist so you can see my favorite fics of mine!

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“Seriously I don’t get why we have to come to this, what’re we even gonna do here?” You complain, walking beside Rick and Carl on your way to Deanna’s house. Carl looks at you, unsure of what to say as he adjusts Judith in his arms. “Well, they’re tryna be nice…and welcoming I suppose. We’re gonna be polite and say thank you. We’re lucky to be here.” Rick responds.

All of this seriously confused you. I mean, a couple of days ago, you guys were all on the road and sleeping on the floor of a barn that smelt like horse shit. How were you meant to go from that, to going to a house party in a normal house, with normal people, in a normal community? It’s just simply not possible. Not in the world you live in.

You accept what Rick says and just leave it at that. You enter Deanna’s home to the intimidating sound of loud chatter. You were expecting people to harass you with tons of questions about your past and how you wound up here with the group. Things about your family you wished to forget.

Deanna walks over to greet you guys and she grabs Judith from Carl’s arms, freeing his hand to hold yours. He gives a gentle squeeze as Deanna makes pointless small talk that’ll later be forgotten. You notice that Maggie and Glenn are already there which makes you feel somewhat better. You’re pulled from your thoughts when Carl begins to walk further into the house, to the kitchen.

“C’mon I saw someone with lemonade.” He says with a smile. You smile too at how sweet he was, how excited he got over something as simple as lemonade. You follow him through the crowded home and stop at the island with pitchers of random beverages. He grabs you both a cup and pours the lemonade into them. You stare around the room, studying everything you see. Every exit, every person, everything.

“Here.” He hands you the glass and notices how intently you’re looking at everything. “Are you okay?” He asks, pushing the cup closer to you. You snap out of whatever trance you were in and grab the glass. “Yeah I’m fine.” You give him a small smile. He could tell you were spewing bullshit. He knew you well, I mean you’re best friends. You wished you were more than that; he did too.

“Look this place is real. I know it’s hard to accept…I barely have myself.” He explains. “But everything is finally gonna be okay.” You nod, taking in his advice when you hear someone arrive to the house. You and Carl walk into the hallway and look towards the end of it, noticing Jessie and her family had arrived. You’d met Ron earlier and he seemed relatively normal. Minus his odd remarks.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a girl show up at the gates. We’re glad you’re here.” He told you. Who says that? You saw him as he entered and your nose sort of wrinkles. Rick walks over to the both of you and instructs Carl to find Judith and to pry her from whatever strangers arms she was in. You watch as he walks away and your heart immediately sinks. You walk back into the kitchen to hide and you stand by the island sort of just looking around.

“There you are.” You turn to be met by Ron. Great.

“Oh…hi?” You respond as he walks over to grab a glass. “Is that lemonade?” He asks pointing at your cup. Your eyebrows knit together in annoyance; it’s the only yellow beverage on the counter. “Yes.” You respond shortly. He notices how short you’re being but doesn’t really take it as a hint to leave you the fuck alone, but rather a sign to keep going. “Sooo you didn’t talk much back at my house. I was hopin to get to know you more.” He explains. You turn to look at him and drink from your cup, not exactly sure what he wants to hear from you.

“Well what about your family?” He scoots a little closer to you. “M-my family?” You mutter. “Yeah your family. I assume they’re no longer with us…I mean that’s how it is now, right?” He states, you begin to slowly inch away from him. How is this any of his business? You begin to feel increasingly uncomfortable. “I’m just saying, I know how you feel. Before all this, I lost an uncle of mine. So if you need to chat at all, I’m here.” He places his hand on the small of your back, causing you to pull away from him completely. He puts his hand up in the air defensively. Before you know it, his shoulder is pushed back a little, and Carl now has his attention.

“C’mon man just back off her a little okay?” He says relatively politely. Ron laughs a little and shrugs. “I was just tryna help.” Carl scoffs. “I think she’s fine without your help.” He replies. Ron looks between the both of you for a moment and sort of laughs to himself. “You’re together aren’t you?” A smug grin forms on his face. Like he knows anything. “No, but that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re clearly weirding her out.” You place your cup down on the counter, getting ready to head out as soon as possible.

“How am I making her uncomfortable? All I’m doing is trying to help her. That’s all.” Carl rolls his eyes. You could sense that this wouldn’t end well. “Help her? That involves touching?” He remarks. He pushes past him and grabs your hand, leading you out of the kitchen and the situation. He leads out outside to the empty porch. You shiver a little at the sudden breeze of cold air that passed through. Carl noticed of course, he notices everything about you. He takes his flannel off and hands it to you.

“What about you?” You ask, taking it from his hands. He shrugs. “You matter more.” He gives you a small smile. You put the flannel on and you both lean against the railings of the house silently. He’s the first to speak up. “Sorry I wish there for you earlier.” You can see him overthink. You shake your head in response, “No don’t apologize. He didn’t get very far thanks to you.” You giggle. He smiles at that and nods.

You look off into the distance for a moment silently, your hands gently resting on the rails. After a moment you can feel his hand over yours. You’re glad to have someone like him. Someone who actually cares.

You can tell you’ll be more than friends very soon.

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a/n: erm this was ass and i’m sorry about it :/ yall idk how to write endings and i know that’s prevalent IM SORRY rhrjrbtjfbfngn anyway i actually like ron and really think he’s a misunderstood character butttt THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE :>

#carl grimes #carl grimes twd #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes angst #carl grimes the walking dead #twd fanfiction #fanfic

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Chapter 2: Part 1

Word Count: 1.3k

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After the performances—an odd mix where the main band yielded the stage to a poet or an accordionist when they needed a break—Jazz and Todd continued to mingle.

Jazz waited until about fifteen minutes had passed before reaching into her bag to search for her phone. “Todd!” she cried.

“Jazz? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find my phone! Shit, what time is it?”

Todd pulled out his. “Eleven fifty. Did you have it when we arrived?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t checked it. Where could it have gone?”

One of the other attendees broke into the conversation. “Lost your phone? What does it look like? We can help you look.” She was a woman in her forties or fifties. Next to her was another woman who nodded her agreement.

“Thank you, that’d be great.” It didn’t take much effort to bring tears to her eyes—all she had to do was remember that Danny was still missing. “It’s a Samsung in an unfortunately standard black case. The lock screen has picture of and my brother. My name’s Jazz, by the way. And this is Todd.”

“I’m Mel and this is my wife Jayden. I’m sure we’ll find your phone soon enough.” Then, in a voice loud enough to cut through the chatter, “Oi! Anyone see an unattended phone lying around? Jazz here misplaced hers?”

Even Mel, though, had to admit defeat after half an hour of searching through the entire apartment yielded nothing.

Jazz sat down on the floor and let herself cry. “And by now we’ve missed the last train. I’m sorry, Todd. What a disaster.”

“Hey, no. None of that, now. Tonight’s been a blast. This sucks for sure, but I can get us an uber or something—”

“How far are you kids going?” asked Jayden.

“Too far,” cried Jazz. “I live out of the city. Parked at Alewife and took the red line in.”

Jayden winced. “Well, we parked nearby. Is there somewhere close we can drive you?”

Jazz blinked up at them. “You’d do that?” She turned to Todd. “I just want to go to sleep. Is there a motel nearby we could stay at?”

Todd pulled out his phone and searched. “Looks like there’s a Holiday inn just down the street or a La Quinta that’s a little cheaper just a bit further out.” He smiled ruefully at the women who’d been helping them. “If you could get us to either place, we’d be more than grateful.”

One of the residents, an older man named Rob, took a seat next to them. “Hey, kiddo. What’s your email? We can contact you if anyone finds it.”

Jazz smiled at him gratefully and gave it. If it wasn’t so necessary, she’d feel bad for lying to and worrying all these people. But they were in so much danger. To the women, she said, “Would the La Quinta be too far out of the way? If I end up having to get a new phone, I’d like to save as much money as possible. Thank God I still have my wallet.”

“Sweetie, it’s totally fine,” assured Mel. “We’d take you all the way home if we didn’t live on the opposite side of the city.”

“Thank you, but that’s really okay. I just want to go to bed and worry about it tomorrow.”

“Come on, dear.” Mel reached out a hand to help Jazz up. “Let’s get you cleaned up then we’ll be on our way.”

Jazz thanked Rob for his help before Mel led her towards the bathroom with an arm around her shoulder.

Less than forty minutes later, Todd and Jazz were alone in a hotel room together. She pulled the blinds shut and finally let herself relax.

When she turned back to the room, Todd was looking at her with one eyebrow raised. “Want to explain to me what all of”—he threw out his hands—“that was about?”

Jazz glared back at him. “You didn’t tell me you died! Damn it, if I’d known in advance—!” she cut herself off and took a deep breath. “Never mind. What’s done is done.”

Todd was deadly still. “How do you know that?”

Jazz threw her hands in the air. “It’s obvious to anyone who knows how to tell. Including the Guys in White who I told you are dangerous to ghosts and liminals! I had plans for what I’d say when they found us, but those won’t work if you’re dead!”

“Wait.” Todd held up his hands. “You’re saying I can be persecuted under those Anti-Ecto acts?”

“Yes! You’re more ghostly than me, and I am watched every minute of every day.”

Todd narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment before asking, “Have you heard of Lazarus Water or had any dealings with the League of Assassins?”

“No! I have no idea what you’re talking about. Quit changing the subject. My brother is the only thing that matters and you and Red Robin promised to help me find him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Jason’s eyes flashed green, and Jazz glared right back at him. “The League of Assassins are the ones who brought me back to life with Lazarus Water. I need to know if you and your brother are mixed up with them because that would change our approach. If it’s a rogue government agency, that’s one thing. If it’s also the league, we’ve got a whole set of other problems.”

Jazz sat down heavily on one of the bed. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t— It’s been a long few months. After a long few years.”

Todd sat down across from her and nodded for her to continue. “Tell me what happened.”

“It started three years ago. My parents, they’re ghost hunters. Been building weapons to detect and hunt ghosts since before I was born. But three years ago is when they finally finished their life’s work: the ghost portal. Only it didn’t work at first. Then my brother Danny and his friends decided to be stupid. They went to check it out. I wasn’t there and the three of them don’t talk about it, but something happened down there that day.

“My brother died and the portal was working. Only, he didn’t die all the way. He became half-ghost, half-human. And that would have been bad enough, but with the portal open, ghosts came through from the Infinite Realms, sometimes called the Ghost Zone by humans. Some were benign, but many of them came to cause problems or hurt people. Danny stopped them.”

Todd held up a hand to stop her. “Your brother became a supehero? How didn’t the Justice League hear about this? How old was he?”

Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know about the Justice League. It could be that no one ever contacted them. It could be they didn’t believe us. And it could be that no one cared. Danny felt responsible though, since it was his fault the portal turned on. And he was the only one with the ability to stop the ghosts, so…” She held up her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

Todd closed his eyes and let out a careful breath. “I can guarantee you the JL didn’t know about your town. A fourteen-year-old would never have been left alone to monitor an interdimensional portal if we had.”

Jazz had no idea what she thought of that. Danny had done it all alone. So finding out he could have had help? She shook her head. What-ifs were a waste of time. “Well, he did. But the government didn’t like that a ghost was the main defense against ghosts. So the Ghost Investigation Ward, more commonly called the Guys in White or GIW was formed. At first, they were as incompetent as any other ghost hunter. But they didn’t stay that way.”

“What happened to your brother, Jazz?” asked Todd.

-----

Next

Sorry to end it there. But it's the right length and I need to go to bed. XP

Hope you enjoy!

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

Not much to say about this one. When I went to the event at this location, my friend and I very nearly missed the last train. It was pulling into the station as we entered. If we'd been 2 or 3 minutes later, we would've been stranded so far from my car, I don't even want to know what that uber or cab would've cost.

Luckily Jazz and Jason had a few good Samaritans nearby.

Next up: We learn more about what happened to Danny!

#dpxdc #answer my call #wrong number au #jazz fenton #jason todd #eventual anger management ship #emotions are running high #and jazz is Stressed™️ #but they can finally talk #and be safe about it

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 37

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Get ready for Andrew Barber's masterclass in manipulation.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Your disbelief gives way to panic. You gulp and gasp for breath as you collapse onto the carpet, hugging yourself as you sink into horror. You’re repulsed by your own body, trapped in your own skin. A monster. Just as horrible as you always suspected.

Selfish, worthless, thoughtless. Your doubts calcify to certainty. You are a bad person.

But you don’t want to be. You never wanted to be. How can you be so terrible despite your best efforts? You have to be better. You have to try harder.

You heave and lift yourself on a shaky arm, rubbing your damp cheek as you sniffle and look around. Your head throbs but you won’t be sleeping that night. The violent churning in your stomach won’t let you. You don’t deserve to rest. You have too much to do.

You get up on tremulous legs. You find it hard to balance as the swirling haze of wine turns to a groggy pulsing in your temples. You massage them as each step sends a thump through your skull. You try to shake it off but it only gets worse.

You move carefully. You did this to yourself. You drank even after Andy warned you not to. You ignored him all day like a spoiled child. You did whatever you wanted and then you… hurt him.

You start with the kitchen. It’s already tidy from Amber’s help but you wipe down the counters to be certain, then you get out the mop, leaning heavily on it as you sponge the tile to sparkling. You move on to the dining room; surfaces, floors, and even the curtains. You sus out every speck of dust and dirt.

You find yourself sitting, folded over as you cradle your head and catch your breath. You’re weak and shaky but you keep going. You get up and return to the front room. You give pause before the couch, the throw pillows knocked this way and that, one on the floor. You tidy them and refold the blanket on the back neatly.

It’s too late to vacuum but you do your best to sweep around the edge of the carpet. You go to the mantel and straighten the ornaments that seemed to distract Steve that day. You stop at the thought of the doctor and nearly sob. What do you tell him? How do you tell him what you did? He would know what you are. What would he think?

Your teeth chatter despite the warm air. It’s not the temperature but your own fatigue that sets you to shiver. You carry on, making a careful progress through the large house. You suffer over every inch. You don’t know how else to show your remorse but to make everything perfect. Everything but yourself. You will never be perfect, you are inextricably broken.

The dawn rises and you let yourself rest in the bathroom. You rinse your face in cold water, trying to wake up. You take some painkillers for the beating in your skull and grip the sides of the sink, weary and worn.

A flicker catches your eye. You glance over at the white shower speaker. He must’ve replaced the batteries. You stand straight and roll your shoulders back. You’re not done. You will never be done. This task, not the cleaning, no, but you, trying to fix you, that’s something you’ll always have to work on. 

You go back to the hall and stop short. You peer down towards the bedroom door; Andy’s. It’s silent and the edges are dark. You shudder out a breath and cross to the guest room. 

You enter the solemn space and search for a new outfit. You pick out something he bought for you, that you know he’ll like. You tuck a white blouse into the brown corduroy skirt that buttons up the front. You match the outfit with a pair of stockings to warm your tingling legs.

You emerge, feeling stronger but hardly better. You descend the stairs, his silence and the stillness of the house suffocating you. You drag your feet into the kitchen and tie the apron on as you begin. You take out one of the cookbooks and search for the perfect breakfast.

The hours pass swiftly as you set to work. You focus on each ingredient, each step, as you put together the pieces. A quiche with the most perfect savoury crust. The scents rising around you tug on your stomach, the dregs of wine leaving your stomach barren and acidic.

You brew coffee and put together a tray. A mug, a plate of quiche, fruit salad, napkins, and cutler. You balance it all and turn to the long journey upstairs. It feels like a treacherous path. You fear you might not reach your destination and you wouldn’t be surprised if you’re turned away.

You stop at Andy’s door, like the gates of some vaunted castle, and swallow down your fears. You knock with your foot, careful not to cause too much of a clatter. No answer comes as you stew in the silence of the large house.

You turn your shoulder to the door and lean in, “Andy?”

Your call wilts into the still air and you wait. You clear your throat and try again, speaking louder this time. The crackle of your voice is harsh amid the empty lull. You listen, a rustle coming from the other side, and a sniffle. 

Your heart catches in your throat as you face the door head on. The lock clicks as the handle turns back and a small slat of space opens between the edge and frame. Your eyes meet Andy’s single on, peeking out sheepishly.

“Good morning,” you try to be chipper, “can I… I brought you breakfast.”

He stares and blinks. His gaze falls to the tray in your hand. There’s a glisten across his iris.

“Andy,” you sniff, “I’m very sorry about last night.”

He closes the door and you stand dumbly in your dejection. You look down at the tray. You’re stupid to think food could solve the problem. That you could ever apologise thoroughly for your offence. You can’t take back what’s been done.

You take a step back but stop again, the tray rattle treacherously as the handle twists back again, this time with more force. Andy still wears the same clothes as the day before. His hair is dishevelled, his beard with short shanks jutting out at the chin, as he keeps his face down. With slumped shoulders, at a slight angle, he stands back.

“We can talk,” he utters in a fractured timbre. He sounds like he’s been crying.

You bow your head and step into the room. You go to the console table and lay the tray there as it starts to shake with your nerves.

The bedsprings compress as he sits with a heavy sigh. You keep your back to him as you try to sort out the pangs in your chest and stomach. You turn slowly on your heel. As he sits on the side of the bed, the glare of the lamp illuminates his features and the dark bruising along the left side. His eye is almost entirely swollen shut.

You gasp and cover your mouth. He keeps his eyes down meekly, as if trying to hide. You can’t believe you did that to him. How could you have done that? With just one hit?

“I’m so sorry,” you creak out through your dry throat, “Andy, I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean to– I didn’t sleep all night, I feel so rotten–”

“Enough, dove,” he hisses, “enough.”

“Please,” you beg as you step forward only for him to flinch. You stop and clutch your hands in front of your chest; he’s afraid of you.

“I…” he begins and swallows thickly. He shakes his head and reaches to brush his fingers through his beard, only to wince again. “I… I love you, dove.”

Your eyes gloss as you watch him. You see how he musters his strength to look back at you. Never had anyone looked at you like that. Afraid. 

“I love you, too,” you eke out.

“So…” he quavers and clears his throat, “so let’s move past this.” You see him struggle as he grips his thigh and forces his posture straight, “I won’t make you mad again and you won’t hurt me, right?”

It’s like a punch in the gut. You could keel over right there.

“I wouldn’t ever–”

“You did,” he insists, “dove, it’s not that you hit me, it’s… you broke my heart last night.”

“I’m sorry, I really am–”

“Sorry… doesn’t always fix things. I can’t forget last night, but if it doesn’t happen again, I can live with it,” he utters each word as if it hurts, “promise, dove, promise you won’t ever hurt me like that again.”

“I promise,” you spit out desperately, “please, I never meant to hurt you. I wouldn’t ever– Andy,” you bring your hands around your throat, trying to pry away the invisible fingers squeezing you, “there’s something wrong with me. I want to fix it. I… someone hurt me…and maybe that’s why…”

“I understand but it isn’t an excuse,” he reproaches, “you can break that cycle, that’s why you go to therapy… I’m starting to think that’s not working though.”

“N-no, it is– I–”

“Have you told Steve about who hurt you?”

You reel and shake your head, digging your nails into your own throat, “no…”

“So how are you fixing yourself, dove?”

It’s an accusation. That softness is gone and the razor is back in his voice. You frown and shrug.

“I’m trying–”

“Not hard enough,” he says, “look at me.” You do, you see the purplish blue bruises and his swollen eyelid. You see what you did. “If this happens again, you have to go. We can’t stay together. I won’t let you…” his timbre turns sandy and lowers his chin, “do what my ex did to me.”

He sniffles as he hides his face. Your heart clenches and you slowly inch towards him. Before you can get to him, he stands and staggers around the bed. You freeze as he clamours into the attached bathroom and the light flicks on. The harsh yellow blaze shines into the bedroom.

You daintily pad around after him and stop just before the doorway. He grips the frame of the mirror as he looks at his reflection. Tears trickle out down his cheeks and he looks down, gulping tightly.

“I didn’t… I didn’t look before,” he wipes his nose, “Dove, I couldn’t…”

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, “I… I’ll leave. I’ll…” you blink furiously at the thought. Where do you go? You can’t go back to Amber, she doesn’t deserve someone like you. “I’ll go–”

“Where?” He asks.

You don’t have an answer.

“Then I’m the bad guy,” his words grit, “no, we’ll… work on it. Promise, dove, promise you’ll do better.”

“I will, I swear,” you plead, “I… will you eat breakfast?”

He flinches, slowly turning his head to peek at you, “breakfast?”

“I… I wanna take care of you. You need to eat. I… I made it for you. Special.”

His lashes flutter and he looks down at the sink again. He nods as if steeling himself. He pushes himself straight. 

He turns to face you completely but before you can back away, not wanting to crowd him, you’re swept up in his arms. He hugs you to him, smothering you in the scent of his sweat and deodorant. You lock up as you let him squeeze you.

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” he whispers as he rocks you with him, “as much as you hurt me, I couldn’t. Dove, I need you.”

You slowly bring your arms up and wrap them around him. You feel how big he is. For a moment, you’re in awe that you could ever make him so afraid. You? How? His strength tightens around you, tight enough to force the breath out of you. Tight enough to break you if he wanted to.

“I didn’t sleep either,” you confess.

🕊️

You clean up the tray. The shadow of the previous night looms over you but you try not to let it consume you. The plate is clean but for a few crumbs, the fruit salad was quickly snapped up, and Andy is sipping his second cup of coffee as you lift away the remnant of his breakfast.

“That was good,” he praises over the brim of his mug.

“I’m glad you liked it. Happy you ate,” you say as your own stomach growls painfully. 

“I got you to take care of me,” he smiles even as his cheek ticks. You’re both thinking of the unsaid, trying to ignore the ghost in the room with you.

“Can I–” you focus on his mussed hair, an unusual sight, “can I run you a bath?”

He seems taken aback. He tilts his head and sips again. You hold the tray in front of you, fearing his rejection.

“Of if you need space…”

“No, that would be… nice,” he rasps, wetting his throat with the coffee before continuing, “dove, I’d love a bath,” he licks his shining lips, “with you?”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes round. It isn’t just the idea of sharing the tub, but the hope of his offer. It isn’t forgiveness but it’s a start. He’s not casting you out.

“Y-yes,” you squeak, “y-yeah, I’ll go… I’ll go clean all this up and get the tub going.”

“Honey,” he pats his stomach in content, “you’re so good to me.”

You can only nod. It’s another reminder. You weren’t good to him last night. You paint a smile on your face and step back on your heel.

“Let me just get this to the kitchen–”

“Don’t I get a kiss?” He prompts before you can back up.

“Oh, uh, yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t…” you carry the tray closer, “I didn’t know if you wanted… one.”

“Always, dove,” he leans over and offers his puckered lips. You give him a peck as he hums. As you draw back, he purrs, “perfect.”

Your smile quivers on your lips. He watches you as you glance down at the tray. It’s awkward. It’s going to be for a while. You won’t ever forget this. He accepts you, even the bad parts. Even when it hurts.

“Love you, dove,” he says.

Your eyes flick up to meet his, “love you too… honey.”

His face brightens, “I like that,” he beams, “when you call me honey.”

“You do?” you bat your lashes.

“It’s like a song,” he says and teethes his lips, his eyes drifting away from yours, “beautiful like the rest of you.”

You squirm and squeeze the tray. You slowly turn away, the empty dishes rattling with you. The knot in your chest just won’t untangle. You want it to be alright but it still feels so wrong.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #steve kemp #defending jacob #fresh #series #fic #don't speak #au #library au #dark fic #dark!fic

[moochalove]

Last Nights Mistake and Beginnings

(Kazuha x Pregnant!Reader x Scara)

Idk whats even goin on anymore!!!

This fucking sucks and i’m not expecting anyone to read (Damn, you guys eating this up…..) but I kinda had an idea and just went crazy w it….. i will be making a part two because i will go crazy if i don’t😋

word count: idk but it’s pretty long 😊

not proofread 🙏

reader is a little mental and stupid but who isn’t❤️‍🩹

kazuha is sleazy in this fic + a phony + should not be trusted + sorta a cheater but reader is kinda okay with it

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You had met Kazuha at a club. It was your secret getaway from reality and working, your safe haven. Sipping your drink you stood away from the crowds simply minding yourself and taking in the noises of chatter and laughter. You enjoyed it. Glancing around at the faces you noticed this fairly handsome man. He noticed you too, he handed his drink to his friends as they cheered and laughed at him walking over to your direction.

You stifled a small giggle as you brushed your hair back and started with a simple “Hi.” While exchanging names you took this time to glance at his features, his beautiful porcelain skin, and silky smooth white hair with a dashing red streak placed in the center, he was gorgeous you thought to yourself.

The night was spent full of giggles and flirtatious gestures. It may have been the alcohol clouding your mind but every time you glanced at him you felt the sudden urge to take him home with you, you weren’t sure what you would do when you got home, would you stare at him and apologize then sending him home? Or would you let the alcohol take full control and sleep with him? Both options don’t sound too bad but you eventually decided the latter.

Twirling your soft hands through his medium-long locks your gaze settles on him as you plant a kiss to the side of his face. You waited to see if he would reciprocate. Kazuha pulled your hands out of his hair and pinned them above your head as he pinned you against the wall, hot mouth clashing into yours. Holding back your small moans you rub up against him and his slight bulge, pulling away you gasp for air as a string of saliva connects the two of you. Looking at him with yearning eyes he picks you up and leaves the club (of course after you pay for your drinks.)

Once you returned to your house you quickly stripped off both of your clothes while making your way to the bedroom. Giggling all along the way you reach the bed as you embrace each other before he starts kissing up on your neck. Rubbing your hands through his soft hair you think to yourself, “It is silky..” laying back you take in the clouded view before everything goes dark.

You can’t seem to remember what happens next although you’re certain you both know.

In the morning you’re alone.

The bed is a mess, it seems only your clothes are scattered throughout the house. “Maybe he’s in the bathroom?” Circling around the couches you make your way down the hall towards the bathroom. You knock once. No answer. You’re certain he’s gone so you open the door. Nothing. Looking around you noticed the floor was wet, maybe he took a shower before he left. The mirror stares back at you and you then notice how sad you look. What were you expecting? For him to say he loved you truly and that he was gonna stay? No, it was a one-night stand. That’s all.

Uh oh, looks like your last night mistakes were here to haunt you. Lurching forward you spew out contents from last night. Deciding it would be best to wash up you go to grab fresh clothes and a towel before checking your phone. Maybe he left you a message. Nothing. Shaking your head you jump in the cold shower and begin to wash up.

A couple of months had passed and boy, has it been a crazy couple of months… You were in your 19th week and you just played it off by saying you’ve been stress eating and it was just “weight gain” but your doctors said otherwise. Every now and then you wondered if you should’ve contacted Kazuha as soon as you knew but a voice inside your head told you not to burden him. From what you learned that fateful night he had told you he was a free spirit and that he could possibly never settle. Being drunk and stupid you said, “Oh yeah totally, I could NEVER think about wanting to commit to anything other than work! Life’s too short to being chained down in one place forever!!” Maybe that’s what sold him on you. Both of you having a fun night with no regrets. Alas, all good times must come to an end and you must face the consequences of your drunken actions, so here you were, trying on different outfits to hide your small baby bump. You needed to expand your wardrobe to more concealing outfits and more jackets.

As you leave the store you see him. Kazuha is wandering around the mall with his friends, laughing and having a good time. You want to turn the other way and leave but you can’t help but stare for a moment hoping he doesn’t notice you. He does, he runs over and hugs you. You’re stunned and can’t seem to piece together words. “Y/n! How have you been?” He says out of breath from running. You blush faintly as he looks at you. Slowly swaying the bag of clothes behind you, “I’ve been good? And you? I haven’t seen you in awhile haha..” you trail your laugh as you look away. “Oh yeah, last time we…” a cute pink blush dusts his face as he seems more interested in the floor all of a sudden, “Anyways… I just thought I’d come by and say hi. Actually- I was wondering if you wanted to go out and grab drinks with me and my friends.” He turns back to look at you sheepishly. You really don’t want to but you don’t wanna make it seem like you’re avoiding him. “Uh.. I would but I have to drop some things off first, haha.. Um, you guys go ahead and I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?” “Oh right, it seems I caught you in the middle of shopping, my bad. Yeah you can stop by when you’re done. We’ll be at the usual place! I’ll see you later.” He places a quick kiss to your cheek as he runs back to his other friends. Quickly turning away you decide to just leave through a different exit not wanting to cross paths with them again.

Once you get home you slowly drop to the ground as you rub you head. You shouldn’t have said you would go.

Entering the club you smile waving at familiar faces and spot Kazuha and his friends in the secluded corner. If you remember correctly it’s Scaramouche, Heizou, Ayaka, and Xinyan. Oh and sometimes Venti, Ayato, and Thoma. He waved towards you as he gestured for you to sit down by him, he was sitting on the outer corner of the round table so if you needed to get up and leave you could. Once you sat down you felt your stomach twist with anxiety. You simply started counting the things you could see and hear.

“I’m not sure if you’ve met her but this is my friend Y/n!” He turned to smile at you “We’ve been friends for awhile now.” Nodding along you speak “Hello. Nice to meet you all!” You smile at them all. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Y/n, Im Ayaka!” She greeted with you a smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Heizou!” he reached over the table to shake your hand “ah, what a surprisingly firm grip!” shaking your hand once more he returned to his seat. Turing slightly to the left you turn to face Xinyan, “We’ve heard many interesting things about you!” “O-oh like what?” Xinyan exclaimed, “Oh just the basics, Yknow like what your favorite color is, favorite band, food and what-not! Kazuha can’t seem to stop talking about ya’!” She gave a playful wink as she giggled possibly implying something. Kazuha grabbed your shoulder shifting you closer to him as his friend who you hadn’t noticed was not at the table sat down. Ah, it’s Scaramouche. He sat down at the end and you felt your fist clench. There goes your way of leaving, sure you could ask him to move but the things you’ve heard about him you decided your personality don’t clash well so you would be best to just avoid talking to him unless needed. The waiter came over and asked for everyone’s order, when it was your turn you just decided to get water, alcohol wasn’t something you planned on drinking tonight because you didn’t want a repeat of last time, plus it wouldn't be good for you. “Oh, no drinks tonight Y/n?” Kazuha looked like a sad puppy. “Nah, I’m good, I have work in the morning and I’d rather not wake up with a pounding headache. Next time though!” You hoped there wouldn’t be a next time. “Okay then!” He gathered the menus and handed them back to the waiter then slyly hung his arm around you.

You tried to pretend it wasn’t there and listen into the bustling atmosphere like you once did. Of course, though someone had to bring you into the conversation. It’s not like you hated them but you wish you had met them under different circumstances. “So, Y/n what do you plan to do in the future? I hear you have a nice paying job but it goes against your ideals. How are you gonna deal with that?” Scaramouche asked as he sipped on his non-alcoholic drink. Had you said something in your drunken state to Kazuha? Oh no what if you embarrass yourself what if- “Oh come on Scara try and ask some interesting questions, that’s boring! I wanna hear what her love life is like!” Ayaka retorted. “U-um well I don’t really have time for love in my life haha, If anything I’d rather avoid it, but I guess if I met THE one I wouldn’t mind keeping them around for the ride… haha I hope that answers your question..” you trail off before taking a big sip of your water. At this point you couldn't decide if you wanted to play as a “love interest” for Kazuha of if you would just avoid acting love-dovey with him.

Ayaka nodded agreeing with what you said “I agree! Although I would be way more open! You can’t be picky when it comes to love!” She sharply turned towards Kazuha, “You're next, Kazu!” Pushing his hair back he sighed “Ayaka we already talked about this…” She leaned across the table “But it’s a great icebreaker question!” Realizing her position she sat down with a quick “ahem..” “Looks like our princess is fired up! Haha, cmon now Kazuha you know how she gets when she’s like this! Answer!” To be honest you were kinda curious despite your current dilemma in your head. “I like it when they’re strong-willed, courageous, soft, long hair, oh, and someone who likes to cuddle!” “Is that all?” “Mmm, just the surface but I don’t wanna bore you guys all night long” Ayaka’s hands clapped together as she smiled brightly “See these are great ice-breaker questions!” “Eh, not really..” said everyone in unison. Ayaka then proceeded to ask everyone else the same question, You don't really remember most of their answers except that Xinyan likes men and women who are more on the stronger side- both mentally and physically. Heizou said he preferred anyone taller than him, and Scaramouche said he only wanted someone who knew how to cook.

They rambled on a bit more before Heizou and Xinyan took their leave claiming they needed to get to the local gaming store to pick up their copy of the latest game that came out. Now that the bright extroverts were gone you weren't sure what to do or say. Ayaka had made some effort to talk about random things but quickly ran out of topics to talk about. Growing tired by the minute you soon began to build up the courage to say you were going to leave, the bustling atmosphere seemed no longer enjoyable, and Kazuha seemed too busy playing footsies with Ayaka to even say anything to you. “I thi-” Scaramouche grabbed your hand suddenly, yanking you off the seat, “We're gonna go grab some drinks! We’ll be back!” he said looking back at them before waving nonchalantly at them.

Guiding you through the small crowds of dancers you're trying to make sense of the situation, “Um-” “God you're pathetic.” Was he really insulting you??? You didn't even do anything to him??? A confused expression plastered your face, “I'm sorry what?” “I said you're pathetic. Have you not noticed?” Sitting down at the bar stool you look at him even more confused, trying to recall if you had done or said something. “You think he's into you?” Oh, it's about Kazuha. “Listen, I never said he was into me- Aren't you jumping to conclusions?” “Why you little… Have a look for yourself” he spun your seat around you could see them through the small crowds: Kazuha and Ayaka staring at each other like a young couple in love, You could immediately tell how serious they were about each other. “You wouldn't wanna ruin such a young and happy relationship would you, Y/n?” You turn back around laying your head in your arms, “So what am I supposed to do? I'm just his friend. Nothing I can do-” Turning back around you cock your head to the side. “Doesn't it make you angry? Seeing him getting all lovey-dovey with someone other than you?” Was he trying to get you riled up? Seriously? “Listen, we had one night together, that's all. If you know everything why don't you go ask him yourself?” You can feel yourself breaking little by little. “I would but it seems he's busy right now!” He really was trying to piss you off for his own entertainment, huh.. “Oh please I don't need the person who only wants a lover who knows how to cook to make him happy trying to control MY love life.” “Oh yeah? Well, I don't want someone who has one-night stands to tell me what I think is good!!” you both were getting louder by the second. “Yet you clearly have shit taste!!” “Said the one who is practically married to her job!!” “Oh yeah? Oh yeah?? I hear you go around bumming money off your mo-” “SCREW YOU” “SCREW YOU TOO” Almost everyone at the bar witnessed you two pulling each other's hair and yelling curse words at each other.

Not long after you were both escorted out and left on the side of the street.

“Look what you did!” Scaramouche yelled at you, You weren’t really concerned about him but instead tried digging through your purse for your car keys. Once you found them you headed towards your car, “Yeah yeah, whatever. I’m headed home. Please let Kazuha know I got home safe and- why are you getting in my car?” Scaramouche lowered himself into the seat before covering his face with his hands, but peeking through his fingers, “Crap… why is she here… she never leaves her office- and who is that with her? Oh, it’s that sly vixen bit-“You looked at him confused before realizing who he was talking about. “Isn't that your mo-” “Shut it- she's no mother to me!” Starting the car you start to check all your mirrors making sure it’s okay to pull out.

“I think she's gone so you can come out no- OHSHIT GET IN THE BACK AND HIDE YOURSELF.” “Why-” practically tossing him in the back you comb through your hair and turn up the radio a little to cover the sounds of Scara struggling.

“Y/n? I just came out to look for you! Why're you leaving so suddenly?” Leaning in a weird position your arms are awkwardly posed as you force a smile. Normally, you're calm and collected, ready to behave falsely, but this time you were caught off-guard. “Did something happen between you and Scara-” “NO,” with a short ‘ahem’ you straighten out. “Nope! Nothing at all! I was just feeling a little nauseous, so I'm gonna head home-” he placed a quick kiss on your head before caressing your face, “Get well soon, my love.” Stiffening up before you melted into his warm touch, and placing a small peck on his knuckles, “Oh, Kazu, I'll be just fine. Don't worry about me-” Noticing how his face lit up at the fact you said you'd be fine made you wonder if you were holding him back from his precious time with Ayaka. “I'll let you go then.” Snapped from your thoughts you pull away and set your hands on the wheel, “I love you, and I'll see you later.” Nodding you reply with a simple ‘bye’ before you watched him head back to the club.

You really were just a side fling. Something he could play with with, knowing you would be just fine. Right? You’ll be fine, won’t you?

Tears started to roll down your soft cheeks. “I hate him.” Gripping the wheel you slip and speak your intrusive thoughts, “I should run him over” “HUH?” Scara exclaimed as he pulled your clothes off himself, “OHFUCK, I FORGOT YOU WERE HERE… UMMM…..” “Damn, Y/n, you have it rough… Almost makes me feel bad” he snickered before fondling the clothes that had concealed him. “Um, anyways, why do you have maternity? clothes in your car?” You froze for a second before laughing and putting up a front, “For my sister. She's expecting,” you stated blankly as you turned the corner and left the club parking lot. “Sister?” Scara almost didn’t buy it but it wasn’t his place to pry for details. “Well, never mind then.” Hands relaxing on the wheel you decide to feed him more details so he’s sold on the idea of your sister, “She’s in her 19th week, from what I heard from my parents is that she’s expecting a baby boy. Can you believe I’ll be an aunty?” With a soft chuckle, he agreed, “I can agree actually, you almost have all the qualities to be a mother, so why not an aunty- at least what I hear from Kazuha- not that I think you-“ “It’s fine, I get that a lot from people!” “Really?” “No.” “I hate you...” Laughing in response you start to feel a bit nauseous again so you pull over on the side of the road. “Sorry, my head hurts really bad so I’m gonna stop for a second. Just to be safe, of course.” Humming in response he crawled back up into the front and started to browse through the radio channels, finally choosing a radio that streamed classical music he laid his head back.

You weren't thinking about anything peculiar, wishing for this throbbing pain to go away, but that was it. Scara on the other hand… He wondered to himself if he had read Kazuha’sand your “situationship” wrong. Maybe he was into you? Were you also into him the same amount? Were your feelings real? Why was he so intent on keeping you away from him? Was it for Ayaka’s sake? No- that doesn’t make too much sense. You seemed to love and hate him equally… He wasn’t sure but all he knew now was that you weren’t ALL that bad. His thoughts were cut off-

“Sooo, where do you want me to drop you off?” He thought for a moment. Kazuha would probably bring Ayaka back to their shared apartment before her brother would come looking for her, so that’s a no. Home? Knowing his mom wouldn’t be there didn’t seem so bad. But he also wanted to make sure you got home safe, why? he himself wasn’t too sure.Maybe it was the very little “gentleman” in him his mother had molded him to be.

He knew he would regret this but he asked anyways, “Do…” shyly looking out the window he seemed more interested in the passing cars in the distance, “Do you think I could crash at your place tonight- I don’t really wanna go ‘home’ right now,” squeezing the wheel you hesitantly agreed, “No I totally get it- Really it’s fine!” turning towards you he looked like a frail cat who’s eyes lit up at the sight of food. Turing your blinker on and waiting for ongoing cars to pass you merge onto the road.

“Thanks, Yn… I was honestly expecting you to dump me on the side of the road.” he spoke so sincerely.

Once you got him the sudden realization of all the baby clothes and diapers were left out in the front you panic for a second. “A-ah… I just remembered my living room is a mess right now… Um- wait out here for a sec, i’ll be quick,” fumbling with your house keys you squeeze the door not allowing him to see too much inside. Scara quirked an eyebrow but was soon distracted by a scrawny cat walking up to him, mewling hoarsely.

Leaning down he decided it needed his divine attention!

Grabbing all the clothes laying out you stuff them into a giant box and sprint to your room, hiding them under your bed, same with the diapers but instead grabbing gift wrapping paper and what ever you could find before stuffing them into your closet. If for some reason he were to look in your closet all he would find is gifts for your beloved sister! Scanning the room one last time you make sure nothing is left out.

Rushing back to the you invite Scara in you immediately take notice he is busying himself with one of the neighborhood cats you feed. “I would have never guessed you liked cats,” posing against the doorframe you smile down at him, “But I guess I can’t blame you!” Scara seemed to be in his own world petting and rubbing the cat’s fluffy fur with the occasional twig intertwined between it. “Does she have a name?” He asked gently not wanting to make too much noise to startle the purring cat. “Mmm, I’ve just been calling her MeowMeow.” Leaning down next to him you gently stroke behind her ears as she curls into your touch. “I found her cold and weak a couple of weeks ago. It seems like she's not fattening up yet…” Scara turned to look at you angrily, “And you didn't take her to the vet?” “I have a good paying job, yes- but with how much my bills are a month….” you quickly retorted already feeling guilty about not getting MeowMeow checked out.

All he could do was pinch the bridge of his nose before sighing, “I’ll pay for her vet fees- if you'll allow me-” Ah, he meant he was gonna use its moms money but nonetheless your eyes glistened with hope that he was being serious, “Really? You're not joking are you?” You leaned closer to him with desperation, “Tell me you're not joking,” He didn't seem to mind the closeness between you two as he continued to pet the cat's fur, “Of course, why would I be joking?” said a slightly annoyed Scaramouche. “Well- I'm not too sure actually…..” The silence made itself known as you both eventually took turns petting the poor cat before you went to get her wet food. She ate her food quickly before returning to wherever she came from, leaving you and Scara standing in the cold.

“I… I cleaned up so you can come in now.” Without saying anything he walked inside, plopping himself onto your spacious couch. He tried to loosen up a little but couldn't seem to get comfy. You, on the other hand, had washed your hands and were preparing some food for you both, simple ham and cheese sandwiches with some juice for the both of you before you went to sleep. Scara found his way to the guest bathroom while you left his food for him on the sofa. You scrolled the TV waiting for him to come out just in case he needed anything.

Once he came out he looked a little more relaxed, face freshly cleaned and dried. Putting the remote down you lean over to grab some blankets out of a basket, “So, I made you a sandwich with some juice to drink- the TV is here if you wanna watch anything and I've got some blankets in case you get cold-” He simply nodded, “What time should I be gone?” “Well, unless you have a ride, I suppose whenever. But if I'm your ride probably by 10 or 11- Let me know if sooner though.” Scara made himself comfy before replying, “Whenever you wake up is fine. Goodnight, Y/n.”

Walking down the hall into your room you shut the door before lying down and eating your yummy-looking sandwich. Once you finish you decide to get some sleep not wanting to think too much about the fact Scaramouche is here and how your night went. Slowly but surely you drift off into a light sleep…

THATS WAS SO LONG BUT THIS IDEA HAS BEEN ROTTING MY BRAIN!! TY FOR READING IF U DID <33

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin angst #kazuha #kazuha x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #pregnant reader #afab reader #fem!reader #pregnant!reader #tw alchohol mention #reader is a little stupid

[measuredingold]

7:15

author's note: hello hello hello ! the jolly fic i promised last month. on a roll :-) i have a few trips coming up and i wanted to get this sweet lil fic out before i was away from home. i haven't wrote much for jolly and i just really like how this came out. short and sweet, domestic as fuck. as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated !

pairing: joakim karlsson x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 1.9k

cw/tags: fluff, sweet domestic tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, maybe some angst but it lasts 2 seconds, kissing, ~suggestive~ content, 18+ minors do not interact

Jolly wakes up slowly, a groan slipping from his lips as he stretches his limbs out across the bed. He pauses, realizing the spot beside him was unoccupied and cold, and a frown settles on his lips. Blinking, he sits up and stretches out his limbs again with another groan, looking beside him to confirm that yes, the other side of the bed is definitely empty. 

He doesn't panic, no, because he sees the bedroom door has been left ajar only slightly, but enough to let him hear you downstairs. It's a distant sound, muffled, but he can hear the clambering and chattering of pans in the kitchen and the faint hum of music. The frown on his lips slips away and a smile replaces it soon after, heart twisting. 

He loves mornings like this with you. With their more than hectic schedule now, mornings like this are few and far in-between, so he tries to never take it for granted. Even though he'd much rather drag you back into bed with him and sleep a few more hours, (he flinches at the time on the clock, 7:15), he throws his legs over the side of the bed and pushes himself up. He hisses as his feet meet the cold floor but braves it, shuffling out of your shared bedroom and down the stairs. 

The music gets louder the closer he gets to the kitchen and he's not sure what it is, something easy to listen to early in the morning. Some morning indie playlist you found on Spotify, he's sure. He smiles again when he finds you in sweatpants and an old shirt of his, hair pulled back out of your face. Your back is facing him, humming along to whatever song is playing, and he leans against the wall beside him. Jolly doesn't remember the last time he was able to just... admire you from afar. He's always in your space whenever he's home, the both of you wanting to spend as much time with each other as you can, never leaving each other's side. 

He likes seeing you like this. As corny as it sounds, this is the most beautiful he thinks you are. Still sleepy he’s sure, still in your pajamas, hair thrown in a messy ponytail, cooking breakfast for the both of you. It's something he'll never get tired of.  

After a solid two minutes of silently watching you, he shuffles over to where you stand and doesn't waste time in wrapping his arms around your middle, lips meeting your shoulder.

"Good morning."

"Was waiting for you to come over here." You hum and instantly melt back into his chest. "Were you just watching me in silence?"

"Maybe."

"Creep." 

But he can hear the smile in your voice, which makes him smile, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head before untangling himself from you, leaning against the counter to your right. 

"What's on the menu this morning?" He questions, eyeing the eggs in the pan.

"Eggs and waffles. Wanted some turkey bacon with it too, but was deeply disappointed to find out that we were out." You send him a pout before focusing back on cooking.

"Oh, you poor thing. How will you ever survive?" He teases before reaching out to poke your side gently, causing you to squeak. "I’ll make sure to add it to our ever growing list. You still want to do that today, right?"

"At some point." You nod before reaching over to turn the stove off and then reaching for one of the waffle filled plates that were placed behind him - two for you, three for him. "We also need to clean this place up before you leave. The living room makes me want to peel my skin off... and don't even get me started on your studio."

He hums, almost in an afterthought, and watches you plate the eggs. "We have time, love."

"I know, I just..." You trail off, continuing to plate the food and he watches as your brows begin to furrow like they always did when you were in thought.

He reaches up and rubs his thumb in between your brows. "Your face will get stuck like that."

"Shut up." You grumble, but your face relaxes for just a moment. "I just like having the place clean before you leave. Makes it feel better when you're gone."

It's his turn to frown, brows furrowing as he stares at you. He knows it rough when he leaves. Leaving you here all alone while he's off traveling with the band isn’t an easy thing to do. If it was his choice, he'd bring you with him every time, but he can't. You have responsibilities here... and unfortunately, his responsibilities are elsewhere most of the time.

He doesn't leave for another three weeks, though, and usually you're asking him to help clean up around the house the week prior. Something is obviously bothering you.

"What's on your mind?"

You sigh, sitting the spatula down on the counter after you finally finished plating. "I just... this time feels different. Don’t you think?” 

Jolly cocks and eyebrow up at you. "How so?"

"I don't know." You shrug and come to stand before him, leaning into him and resting your forehead against his shoulder. His arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you closer to him. "You guys are getting bigger, which is amazing. Don't ever think I hate that because I don't, but... the bigger you get means the more tours you get. The more tours you get means..."

You don't say it, voice trailing off, but he knows what your next words will be. The more tours you get means the less time at home. With you. His frown deepens at that.

"Baby..."

"And I don't want to sound selfish. Seriously, I don't! I'm so fucking proud of you, Joakim. All of you. Some of the most deserving people I've ever met, but I..." You sigh again, almost in defeat, and he feels you press closer to him, voice muffled. "I miss you. More than I usually do. It used to be easier, and it still is because I know you'll always come back, but..."

The silence that follows breaks his heart. 

He does remember this last time being away in Europe was a little rougher than normal, constantly thinking about you, wishing you were there with him. It might be because last time they were there you were with him, taking leave from work to join him on their European headliner for this new album. The only thing that really got him through was the fact he knew that when he got home, you'd be right there waiting for him.

"But?" 

"But... it just sucks." You pull back just enough to look up at him, a sad smile settling on your lips. "Wish I could just go with you and not worry about anything else.”

"You could," He's quick to respond. "You've always had that option."

"I know." You mumble, face pressing back against his shoulder. "I feel bad, though. Making you support the both of us. Plus, you know how much I hate flying. I couldn't stand it." 

Jolly laughs at the tiny groan you let out, probably remembering your flight last year to the UK with him and the rest of the band. You had begged Matt to switch seats with you, so he could be by the window and you in the aisle with Jolly squished between you two. One look out the window - while you were still on the ground - had sent you in a spiral. He remembers having to hold your hand the entire flight, and when it was allowed, lifting up the armrest so you could press yourself into his side. He hadn't minded it one bit, finding it endearing that you put all your trust in him to keep you safe.

"You and flying don't mix well." He teases, hands now rubbing up and down your arms. "But... you know I don't mind providing for you."

"I know you don't."

"And I love taking care of you."

"I know you do." You whine, pulling back again to pout up at him. "But you know I can't let you do that. My brain tells me no."

"Tell your brain to get over it and let your boyfriend take care of you." He leans forward, planting a kiss to the center of your forehead. He feels your arms circle around his middle and he smiles against your skin.

"If only it were that easy." He pulls back to find you still staring at him, but a smile has since replaced the pout on your lips. "This'll only suck for a little bit, then it'll become our new norm and it'll get easier. I'm just cranky about it now, but I know we'll figure it out."

"We always figure it out." He hums. "Just tell me what you need from me to make it easier on you while I'm away, and I'll do it."

"There's nothing you can do.” You pause. “Except, maybe, right now… a kiss could possibly fix my cranky mood."

He watches your gaze drop from his down to his lips, and then back up, your own lips puckering dramatically. Jolly huffs out a laugh before happily obliging and leans down, lips pressing against yours gently. Nothing too crazy, a sweet peck, because he still hasn't brushed his teeth, and he pulls back seconds later.

"I love you." You say happily, eyes fluttering shut briefly. 

"I love you, too, baby."

"Alright, I’m not allowed to complain for the rest of the day. Let's eat before all my hardwork gets cold." You step on your tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek before pulling away entirely, reaching around him for both of your plates. "And maybe after, shower? Then go grocery shopping? The fridge is running on fumes... I think I used the last of the eggs and we have maybe half a glass of milk left."

He perks up at that, following you over to the chairs that sit at the island in the middle of the kitchen, plucking his plate from your hands before settling down in his chair. "A shower, you say?"

"Of course that's the only thing you heard." You deadpan, but he doesn't miss the smirk on your lips.

"Sorry. You know my brain likes to focus on the important stuff."

"Perv." You tease, but the smirk has finally settled on your lips fully. "Does that sound good, though?"

"Mhm. Sounds good to me, love."

"Oh! And maybe later we could go to the thrift store we wanted to check out last week? Hit up some other shops, too."

"Oooh, yes. That sounds like a perfect plan.”

It's almost as if the worry from earlier is forgotten as your conversation continues through breakfast, and when you're finished putting your dirty dishes away and dragging him up the stairs to go shower (among other things), Jolly knows that the two of you will eventually figure it out. He knows you two can weather any storm, just like you have for the last few years, and that these worries won't mean much to the two of you in the future. He knows wherever he goes, you’ll be right there waiting for him, and he hopes you know he’d do the same for you.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #joakim karlsson fic #joakim karlsson fanfiction #joakim karlsson x reader #mine

[yanderenightmare]

Incel Bakugou please :( him kidnapping darling and forcing her to be his slut because it’s the only thing she’s good for :(

I incorporated another ask I received about a Ghostface Bakugou into this, so enjoy~

BNHA ! FIC

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: yandere, prank calling, breaking and entering, threats

tip-jar: Kofi

STRANGER

The time was a little after midnight. And you, despite being heavy-eyed and blinking, were still lying stomach-down, sprawled out on the couch.

Some dumb show about some dumb dysfunctional family was playing low on the TV in front of you – not much to your interest, it appeared, or at least not enough to cop your full attention – but enough to act as somewhat pleasing white noise, you didn’t mind letting lull you to sleep.

You were beginning to drool on the pillow your head lay resting on and looked to be struggling between the indecision of getting up to brush your teeth and the more tempting pleasant thought of simply sleeping right there, without the chores of getting ready for bed.

Your arm was mindlessly dangling towards the ground where the remote had slipped to some time ago, along with your phone that suddenly – just when it looked like you were about to fully nod off – started to ring.

Startled, you flinched at the sheer chimes buzzing loud beneath you. Waking by it as though it were the sound of an alarm going off, only it visibly wasn’t yet morning from the looks of the dark outside.

You groaned then, both out of ire and relief – happy it was still nighttime as you were still tired, yet reluctant to have to speak to someone for much of the same reason. 

Hesitating for a small moment, thinking it was just a friend with some silly emergency – you were tempted to ignore it before guilt got in the way – where with a pinch between your brows and a big yawn, you swiped to answer it nonetheless.

Clicking speakerphone, you had your eyes still fully closed while croaking out a groggy and slightly bothered, “Hello?”

You expected to hear drunken cries and the muted thumps of base and beat and club chatter or something like it – all in all, at least a whiney girlish voice belonging to a friend – but none of the sorts was at the other end of the line.

“Hello.” It said, much awake compared to you in a voice dark and raspy – audibly altered by some type of scrambler, yet still clearly male.

Still, you didn’t really have the sensibility to think much of it just yet. 

“Who’s this?” You asked.

“Who’s this?” He asked back, making your brows further scrunch. 

“You’re the one calling?” You replied in askance, dragging your head from the pillow to peek down at the phone on the floor, viewing the caller ID – which gave you next to nothing aside from letting you know that your caller was unknown.

“You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine~” He offered then, and your suspicions of it being a prank call only solidified.

And although the corner of your mouth quirked upward by the sentiment, it was unfortunately just a bit late for you to be bothering with. “I’m a little too sleepy to humor pranks right now- I’m sorry. Try again later- bye~” You managed to muster through a yawn, hanging up and thinking that was the end of it.

Only, it didn’t take long for the phone to ring again.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” The same voice asked through the phone.

The thought of simply hanging up again crossed your mind, but at the same time, you didn’t really see the harm in talking with the man. After all, you were awake now anyway – and besides, given he was using a voice-scrambler, it wasn’t so unlikely that it was someone you knew.

And with that, you figured you’d humor them, if only for a little while before brushing your teeth. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”

“No~” It answered – still in that very altered voice that made it impossible to place.

“Well, my mother taught me better~” You joked with a tiny laugh, thinking the entire thing was kind of exciting now that you were sobering up – your mind slowly waking up and starting to spin. Not knowing exactly who was on the other end – whether it was a coworker or friend, or someone else entirely. You couldn't quite figure out who would bother to do such a thing in the dead of night – to you, of all people.

“Oh, come on~ aren’t you tired of being a goody-two-shoes?” He flirted back, and you giggled a little louder while picking the phone up from the floor.

“Fine then, Mr. Stranger~” You whispered slowly and coyly, rolling over to lay on your back instead before continuing. “What did you wanna talk to me about?” 

A dark chuckle came back through the phone, making your stomach purr in turn before he spoke again. “What are you wearing?”

You paused at that – cheeks heating with teeth sinking deep into your lip. “Hm…” Looking down at your drab pajama, you didn’t exactly feel inclined to be truthful. “Sexy lingerie~” You tried instead, trying to keep from laughing while putting on your best mock-sultry voice.

“I don’t like liars.” The man answered. “I know you’re wearing pajamas.”

You pouted. “Okay, fine- you caught me.” 

“Still sexy, though.” He added, making you giggle again.

“And you’re a little creepy, Mr. Stranger.” You stated with a tease, biting your lip with a smile while looking at the phone for his reply.

Only his answer wasn’t very nice. “You’re the one whoring around with an unknown man on the phone, slut.”

Your eyes widened before abruptly hanging up.

His voice had changed, and immediately the whole conversation didn’t feel very fun anymore. Suddenly mean-spirited, it soured into something that made you feel all in all rather stupid for even amusing in the first place.

But again… it only took a few seconds for the phone to ring a third time. 

“Don’t hang up on me.” The same voice demanded.

And while feeling bored of the game, you sighed with a huff and asked him nonetheless, “What do you want?”

“I told you already, I want to know your name~” He said, his playful tone of voice back again – only this time, you weren’t at all charmed by it anymore.

“Why do you want to know my name?” You bit out sourly. Unsure why you were still on the phone and even more unsure why you even bothered picking up yet again at all.

“Well… ‘cause…” He began slowly with a pause, and your brows only sunk lower with his antics, finding yourself properly pissed until he uttered the next line – only now in a deeply unsettling whisper. “I want to know who I’m looking at.”

You went cold, with a chill running sharply down your spine. 

Sitting up slowly, you held the phone tightly in your grip while looking at all the windows viewing the darkness outside.

“Oh~ you look cute when you’re scared~” He continued, and you jumped to your feet and stomped to the first window, drawing the curtains one after the other one until none remained.

“Quit calling.” You finished, hanging up for what you really wished would be the last time.

Seconds later, the phone rang again despite your wish. Only this time, you let it ring – deliberating whether you ought to call the police or simply ignore it until it stopped. 

You went to check if the outer door was locked before padding back to the couch, listening to the phone finish ringing before beginning anew.

You figured he’d stop after a while, but minutes passed without a break until you finally picked up – not out of fear, but anger.

“I told you not to hang up on me!” He yelled, and you sneered.

“Listen, asshole-”

“No, you listen, you stupid bitch-” He interrupted. “If you hang up on me again, I’ll wring your little neck ‘til your eyes pop-”

You gaped at his threats but weren’t about to let yourself be bullied either. “If you don’t stop calling, the next call will be to the police!”

“Tch-” He scoffed before laughter spilled through the speaker. Louder and louder until it stopped with the next utterance. “Stupid pigs won’t make it in time.”

There was a crash of glass somewhere in the house, and you flinched while withholding a scream. 

Fear hit you like a flash, robbing you of breath before your instinct took you towards the door. 

Rushing, wide-eyed and goosefleshed, you swallowed thickly while trying to think. With your phone gripped tight in one hand, you tried pushing in the numbers to the police – while at the same time struggling with the lock to the door, shaking the knob with no fruition until finally pushing it open.

You cast a glance over your shoulder, viewing the empty house that now suddenly seemed much darker than before – ears going deaf with the rush of blood in your head, pumping thick from the panicked beating of your heart. 

Taking a rushed springy step without yet facing forward, you had your mind set on running to the neighbors, only – instead of bursting out into the open street, you were sent back into the house – stumbling until you hit the floor with a wince. 

Your phone slipped from your hand – not only crashing to the ground as hard as you did but smashing into a broken mess as well – now utterly useless.

A dark-cloaked figure stood at the threshold, taking up the entire frame.

“Silly bitch.” He said nonchalantly, stepping inside – shoulders broad and boots heavy with his face covered by a white mask. Then he laughed, raising a large knife that made you scurry back. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to let strangers inside the house?”

tip-jar: Kofi

Part 2 coming soon...

#yandere bakugo #yandere bakugou #yandere bnha #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere katsuki #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere my hero academia #yandere bakugou katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugou smut #bakugou smut #boku no hero academia smut #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo my hero academia #katsuki bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader

[azullumi]

summary — for all his life, alhaitham ponders of the word “home” and what it truly means.

pairing — alhaitham/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff, established relationship ; one-shot

words — 947

note — HAPPY BDAYY BBG !!! as u can see this one was a little bit rushed and don't mind the messy narration bcs it's meant to represent alhaitham's state in the fic

is home a place or a person?

for all his life, alhaitham ponders of the word “home” and what it truly means. among the various amount of books that he had read, home describes a place that has a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and living room with a set of chairs, couches, appliances, gadgets, and everything a person would need. a home is a place filled with all the items that he wants and needs, a place with a comfortable and soft bed that he could sleep in every night, a couch that he could sit or lay on when all he wants to do is to just relax, a place of rest, of dreams, and of everything that he wishes it to have.

and yet he still wonders, thinking, what does home truly mean because he could see the shelves filled with rows of books with pages that he had already touched and flipped, the expensive and priceless items that he has collected over the years, pieces of furniture that he had gotten that adorns the place that he calls house, he could feel the warm and serene atmosphere that could put one in peace but he could never see home in it.

he could never see home in a place that has four walls and a living room, with a cold floor that he had laid upon on nights that he can't bear the thought of sleeping—only wishing to admire the corners of his ceiling and the wallpaper that is slowly wearing off over the course of time. he could never see home in his own house despite it fitting the meaning of the word.

he treads through the chatter of the crowd around him, filling the air with their noise but the voices in his head are louder—not even his earpiece could cancel it out even if it were to be voiced outside his mind—than the ones around him, muddling and tainting each of his judgments, filling each curve and corner of his perception; a disturbance, disruption.

all of his thoughts were in a jumble, questions that emerged, pulled out of nowhere and not even relating to his worries as of the current moment.

do you perhaps also have the same thoughts as him? have you ever come to the point that you thought of the definition of home and if it's him that comes to your mind? what are you doing right of this moment? what are you thinking?

where are you right now—aside from being in his head the whole time he's been awake. he just can't wait to see you once again whether it's in his dreams or not.

alhaitham had never found peace in not knowing and it is perhaps the reason why his heart would never find the tranquility it needs and why his mind would always be muddled with questions and thoughts that keeps him up at night.

"hm? alhaitham, is that you?"

your voice reaches to him as he enters your house upon opening the door and he responds, not realizing how gentle his voice has gotten, "i'm here, it's me."

a moment of silence and some footsteps were heard before he was greeted by the sight of you and a smile tugged at the corner of your lips once you saw him, he could never ignore the way your eyes sparkled and your shoulders relaxed upon seeing him, having been relieved that it was truly him that was at the doorstep.

"you're quite early today," you remarked as you walked towards him, reaching both of your hands out to feel his cheek fondly and he could only hum as a response while he welcomed your caress, leaning against your touch, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. seemingly, all of his problems had been lifted off his shoulders and the world only revolves around you two in the stillness of your house.

the lack of response from him didn't cause worry for you, thinking that he just needs the silence to perhaps sort out his mind—and assemble his thoughts in one coordinating pattern to know what to speak and to know what to say to you, to convey his affections in a manner that you will understand—and he's grateful of how you seemingly always read his thoughts despite not talking about it.

and he's still, standing there, laying himself bare in front of you though you may not notice the fragility and vulnerability of himself that he presents before you. your hand trailed down his check, his neck, to his shoulder where it rests and as if his thoughts had commanded him, he pulled you into an embrace—not tight nor loose but enough to tell you that it's there and he's holding you so close to him.

he speaks, two words only slipping out of his lips but bearing such heavy meaning and significance on it:

"i'm home."

right, it has come to his realization that home isn't necessarily a place and for him, it was you. in your arms that wraps his being and embraces his flaws, on the chest that he lays on in tiring and exhausting times after going through the heavy responsibilities of just being alive, in your voice and the sound of your heartbeat that lulls him to sleep and calms him down at those nights that he stirs awake after having a nightmare.

home was in the definition of the security of your arms and your voice that speaks of affectionate and loving words that puts his heart at ease.

at this moment, in this lifetime of his, it was you—you're where all of him finds home.

"welcome home."

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#yae publishing house #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham genshin #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #al haitam x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fluff #genshin #genshin x you #alhaitham x you #genshin fanfic #genshin alhaitham #azul.writes

[louloulemons-posts]

Cuddles and Stew

StepDad!Eddie X Mom!Reader

Summary : The third instalment of Margot - you get sick and Margot calls Eddie

Word Count : 2.2k

Warnings : Not proofread, half was written at 4am lol, petnames, cuteness, talks of illness and pain meds, margots just adorable, girl dad eddie, mainly margot and eddie content - not much reader.

A/N : sorry for lack of updates, i’m working hard on the multi part fic and am going into a writers block lmao 🫶🏻 sorry loves, hopefully more should be coming soon.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lay underneath his vans, Eddies hands were dirty as he tried to fix a ticking sound. He heard the faint ringing of the phone from inside the trailer and Wayne pick it up.

The squeak of the trailer door, made him slide from under the van, “Eddie it’s for you,” the man said, urgency in his voice. It made Eddies brow furrow as he wiped his hands and jogged to him.

“Hello?”he spoke.

“Eddie?” A voice he wasn’t expecting.

“Mar? That you sweet girl?”

“Yes,” she spoke softly.

“Is everything okay? How come you’re calling me?” he asked, obviously he adored that she was, but he was concerned he couldn’t hear you whispering to her in the background.

“Something wrong with Mama. Mama said this number for ‘mergecy.”

“Hey I’ll be right there okay? You got sit with mom and do not answer the door, I’ll be there soon baby I promise.”

“Okay,” the young girl said softly.

Ripping his greasy clothes off, changed into the first things he found. “Hey I need to borrow your car,” he spoke to Wayne, panicking.

“Yeah son sure, everything okay? Little Miss doesn’t normally call.” Eddie explained, shoving his foot in his trainers and grabbing Wayne’s car keys.

“Well call me and let me know how she is son,” he said, as Eddie climbed into the vehicle. Speeding away, he knew the neighbours would complain to Wayne about reckless driving.

He didn’t care, he needed to get to his girls.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Putting his key in the lock, he pushed open the door. The house seemed fairly quiet, TV chattering away faintly. “Baby?” he called out.

No answer. Your car was here so you were home. “Margot? Margot are you here?” he tried again peeking round into the living area.

“Daddy!” A whisper shout came from the top of the stairs. There was Margot, hair frizzy from sleep, her favourite pyjamas and one sock. “Hi Sweetheart, where’s mom?”

“Here!” she did a summoning motion with her hands, so he bounded up the stairs to meet her. She took his hand and led him down the hallway.

You were sat at the end of the bed, on the floor. Head between you knees, breathing deeply. “Mama,” Margot said gently, kneeling next to you, “Mama wook, Eddie.”

With eyes scrunched in pain and confusion, you lifted your head. Meeting his brown eyes, you couldn’t fathom why he was here. “E-Eddie, what are you doing here?” you asked.

You looked awful, skin pale and flushed at the same time. You looked exhausted, body breaking down in a way. “Margot called me.”

“What?”

“Numbers for ‘mergencies Mama.”

Tears welled in your eyes, you felt awful. You’d sat down because your head wouldn’t stop spinning, you thought it would be the safest place. “Oh Mar I’m so sorry,” you sniffled.

Eddie came and crouched next to you now, holding your head gently. “It’s otay Mama, Eddie make you bedder,” she spoke, resting her head on you.

A large palm was on your forehead, lovely and cool. “Babe, you’ve got a fever. Come on we’ve gotta get you into bed. Rest, fluids, sleep.”

“What? No! I can’t, I gotta get up,” pushing yourself up the ground, it wasn’t even a full second before you were coming back down.

Head buzzing and pounding.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got to let me look after you.”

“B-but, Margot and work!” you panicked.

“Baby, come on calm down,” he held your face in his palms, “I’m gonna look after Mar, and hey it’s a long weekend. So you can rest up.”

Sighing you nodded, “I need new pyjamas.”

“I ged dem!” Margot spoke, running to your draws. Her voice made your head pound, the volume of everything seemed to be amplified.

Pulling out your favourite pair, ones that matched those she currently had on, she brought them to you. “Thanks baby,” you said, gently stroking her hair.

“Okay, get changed okay, me and Nurse Margot will get you some water and other things you need,” Eddie spoke, helping you to your side of the bed.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Margot stood on her step-stool, filling your water bottle at the tap. “Da, it’s done,” she said, so he could come and do the lid. He grabbed pain killers, tissues, cold juice from the fridge. He was also heating some water for a hot water bottle.

“Good job Bubby,” he smiled, kissing the girl on the head. Soon enough the kettle whistled letting him know it was done, “You stay over there okay? This is very hot.”

After he filled the water bottle he let Margot carry the tissues and your cold water bottle up the stairs to your. You were lay under the covers, eyes closed, now clad in your new pyjamas.

“Here you go Mama,” the small girl said quietly, placing the water and tissue next to you. Eddie did the same, but lifted the blanket slightly so he could put the hot water bottle under it.

Pulling the curtains closed, he hoped that’d help your head. “You stay with Mom for a second, I’m just gonna get a compress for her head,” he said to Margot.

Wetting a washcloth so it’d cool you down, although you were freezing right now, he had no doubt you’d be sweating in a minute or two. “Here you go,” he pushed you hair back, letting the refreshing feeling take over your body.

“Sweetheart, you need to take these too,” he handed you the medication and drink, helping you sit up. Eyes still shut, unable to deal with any kind light.

Once you laid back down he spoke again, “You rest now. Me and Margot will go make us all something yummy and come back later to check on you.”

Picking the small child up from your side, you head a faint, “Bye Mama, wove you.” Which you repeated in a slurred and sleepy way. Snoozing away moments later.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Mama gone be otay?” The young girl asked from Eddies arms, as they went to the kitchen. “Yeah Sweetheart she’ll be okay, she’s just gotta get lots of sleep.” Margot hummed and cuddled into Eddie.

“We’re gonna make her some soup okay? Make her feel better.”

“I help!”

“Of course, we’ve gotta get some veggies from Aunt Maeves patch.”

The pair went into the garden, Maeve had said they can always help themselves. Updating everyone one what was ready to be harvested and what to leave.

In all honestly, Margot was the best person to have with him, she knew what plants were what and if they were ready - she spent lots of her days with Maeve in the garden becoming sun kissed.

“Okay so we need some potatoes, carrots, onions and I’m not sure what else.” Holding Margot on his hip as she was still only wearing the one sock, she pointed out all the different veggies they needed.

“Think we’re gonna need to make a few trips Love,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Auntie Mae has a bwasket,” she told him. “A basket, let’s go get it then.”

“Me help!”

“Bubby your feet will get grubby.”

“My boots!” She wriggled from Eddies hold, and ran to get her welly-boots. She looked a picture, pyjamas, crazy hair and wellies. Pulling a large basket behind her, Margot returned to Eddie.

Pulling a hair tie from his wrist, he comb it all into one hand and sat a loose bun on her head. She didn’t have much hair cause she was still small, but there was enough to annoy her. “Twanks Da,” she said, and went to the potatoes.

“I got-ta big one!” she squealed as she shook the dirt off. “Good job Mar, we need 3 more of those okay?” Eddie crouched down beside her, putting the basket between them so she could put the veggies in.

“And Two! … And ree! … And dats Fo-wr.”

“Good job! Let’s go and get some carrots.” Running away, Margot boots stomped on the group. “Well hello you two.” Maeve stood at the door.

“Auntie Mae!” Margot smiled, waving with grubby hands. “Hello my dears, what’s going on here?” she asked, coming out into the garden. “We’re making soup,” Eddie said.

“Mama, not well. I call-ded Eddie and now we make soup!”

“Mom isn’t well?” she said, caressing the little ones hair, looking up at Eddie. “She’s got a fever. We’ve taken her everything she needs and she’s sleeping now, so we thought we cook her something nice.”

“That’s very kind of you. I can cook it if you’d like?” The older woman offered, kindly.

“Would you mind, I honestly have no idea what to put in it.”

“I’ll write you a recipe,” she smiled, crows feet by her eyes.

“Why don’t I finish getting all of this, and you can help Margot get ready for the day,” she smiled to Eddie, taking the basket from his hand. “Thank you Mae, Margot come on Sweetheart.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Soon enough Margot was clean and dressed, clad in a little blue dress with a white tshirt underneath. Both feet now covered by socks and hair under control.

“Hey Sweetheart, why don’t you go and see if you can help Mae,” Eddie spoke, and the small girl ran off. He headed into your room, you were snoozing away, you seemed to have cooled down. Placing a soft kiss to your sticky cheek.

He found Margot and Maeve in the kitchen, the little girl stood on her stood, helping chop the veggies with her plastic knife. She caught sight of Eddie and smiled, “Wook Da I choppin’!”

“You are, that’s some super good chops bubby.”

“How’s she doing?” Maeve asked.

“She’s still sleeping, she seems to have cooled down a lot.” Maeve hummed and continued to dice an onion.

“Eddie!” Margot said in a sing song voice, he hummed and stood behind her. “Can you put dem in the pot, pwease.”

“Sure babe,” he kissed her head and took the roughly chopped potatoes and carrots to the pot.

Soon enough it was simmering away, and Maeve had added some chicken. “It shouldn’t take too long,” the older woman said, taking Margot to living room you sat her on the couch.

“Eddie, is Mama otay?” the small girl asked.

“She will be, I promise. She just needs to sleep.” As soon as those words left his mouth, he heard the bedroom door open and soft padding feet down to the bathroom.

“Stay here,” he said to the small girl, jogging up the stairs. Knocking on the bathroom door he spoke gently, “Baby you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said faintly, exhaustion clear in your voice.

Opening the door up, you smiled weakly at the curly haired man. “How you feeling?”

“Tired. Thank you for looking after Mar.”

“Hey it’s no trouble, Maeves watching her right now. We’re making you stew? Soup? I’m not sure,” he laughed.

“It smells good,” you hummed.

“I’ll bring you some up when it’s done, I’m sure Mar will be joining me too. Let’s get you back to bed.” Helping you down the hall and to the bed, you sipped some water.

“Do you need another compress?” he asked. “No I’m okay, I’m feeling a little cold so.”

“Okay baby, well the water bottles still warm so it should be okay. Let’s tuck you in,” he smiled.

Placing your quilt and a thicker blanket over you, you hummed in contentment. “How’s your head?”

“It’s not hurting as much and I’m not as dizzy anymore.”

“Good good, it’s going then. How come you didn’t call me babe?”

“It started a few days ago, I didn’t think it was anything. Apparently I was wrong. I can’t believe Margot called you, what if I’d collapsed! What if she got hurt!” your eyes welled.

“Hey hey,” Eddie sat down beside you, “Baby it’s okay, she’s alright. She did so good, you taught her so well. She explained what she needed too and she stayed safe near you.”

“I just feel bad.”

“I know, but it’s not your fault. You’re sick, you can’t blame yourself baby. Okay?” you nodded at him. “Now get some sleep.”

Closing your eyes, the door clicked closed and Eddie headed back down to Maeve and Margot. “Mama otay?”

“Yeah she was just telling me she’s starting to feel a bit better.”

Maeve squeezed his shoulder, “Well the food should be done in a little while, why don’t we watch one of your movies?”

“Cina-rella?”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The three of you sat on the bed, a tray on your lap. Big bowl of warm soup and some crusty bread. “Oh it taste delicious! You guys did such a good job.”

“Feel better Mama?”

“Yeah Mar I feel better, thank you for looking after me. You did so good calling Eddie.”

“You did,” Eddie smiled, squeezing the little one who sat in his lap.

“Just did what chu said Ma,” she smiled.

“You did the best babe, that’s why you’re my best girl. We’ve gotta be careful though or you two will definitely get sick.”

Margot coughed. “Oh no.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #eddie x reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #margot and eddie #louloulemons #stranger things imagine #joesph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn

[kwangyakarina]

Too spicy for your heart

💋🌶🌃🖤⛓

Domme!Karina, Brat!Winter

Rated Explicit: (light) BDSM, smut,romance

Fic on Ao3 (+specific tags)

After Paris Fashion Week Karina and Winter finally unleash their secret passion for each other in a hotel room.

(Please be gentle, English isn't my first language)

***

"You know we can't fuck until it's all over?" Karina teased Winter,

"I bet you can't take it."

They are in Seoul in their dorm room, laying in bed together after fucking. Today they had gotten the news that they are representing Chopard at the Fall Paris Fashion Week.

"You bet? I'm not that easy," Winter says.

"No touching at all, not even yourself," Karina smirks.

"I accept the challenge."

"You have no other option but to accept it!"

"And what will I get If i win?"

"You will see that then," Karina winks.

***

It's been a long day full of flashlights, catwalks, international celebrities and the most beautiful and bizzarre costumes. All the most influencial people have gathered to Paris this week to celebrate the new season of fashion. Aespa has been invited to join this year, and they have been surrounded by assistants, guards, stylists and hair and makeup team the whole week. It's a break from usual dance and singing practise, but it's full work with high heels on constantly.

What the cameras haven't been able to capture is the little game Karina and Winter have played the whole week during their stay in Paris.

During the week the only thing they could do is eye each other from distance.

Except for one night.

As Karina offered a champagne glass to Winter their fingertips touched slightly but that touch made Winter feel her body electrify. She had watched Karina that evening with a longing stare, little tipsy and little horny, that goddess of a woman Karina is. She could only bite her lip and hold herself when Karina whispered her:

"I know what you're thinking. If you try anything you will be punished."

But that had only turned Winter on more. She coudn't take it. Without her noticing she had drunk more champagne than planned. She sat next to Karina while the girls and the crew members were chatting. Under the table, she started circling her finger across Karina's thigh.

"It's a nice warm night, isn't it?", Winter smiled at her mischeviously.

Karina only looked at her like she could pierce her soul. That look of hers was so powerful Winter could feel a pulse in her lower part.

"You just lost. You know what I'm gonna do to you?" Karina said in a low voice.

"Yeah?" Winter drunkenly smiled.

"I'm gonna fuck those nasty thoughts out of that pretty little head of yours" Karina whispered to Winter's ear.

Winter felt her whole face flushing.

"You will beg me to release you but I won't touch you until you beg for it," Karina moved her head to stare at Winter's flushing face.

"Yeah... and then?" Winter said.

"And then what? Are you already turned on you pervert?", Karina said as she whiped a hair out of Winter's face.

Winter suddenly started giggling uncontrollably. She covered her face with her hands but she couldn't stop shaking.

"What's so funny?" Ningning asked.

"Hahaha you get drunk so easily" Giselle laughed.

But Winter coudn't stop laughing, her whole face red, she makes a swift movement with her hand and accidentally throws her champagne glass on the floor chattering it and the champagne flowing everywhere. Audible gasps come from across the table and Winter finds herself the center of attention.

"I'm so sorry!" she muttered.

"I think it's time for Winter to go to sleep", her assistant stands up and assisted Winter out of the table.

"Nooo! I don't want to go! I want to stay!" Winter complained.

Last thing she sees is Karina wearing that sinister smile of hers.

***

The whole week has come to an end now and it had been difficult for the both of them. After the little drunk incident Winter had behaved herself. It had been humiliating enough to embarass herself in front of everyone and be turned on at the same time.  But now the wait was over. The day was done and the girls are on a taxi on their way to the hotel. Karina is seated at the back next to Winter, their thighs touching slightly. It had been an exhausting week but now the two girls were both energetic from each other's presence and that the week-long wait would finally be over.

"Let's get some drinks to celebrate the last night!" Giselle says.

"I think I'm gonna go sleep. I'm exhausted." Karina says.

"Me too. I can't hold alcohol anymore". Winter says.

"I'll come with you Gigi!" Nigning says.

The two girls leave to the hotel lounge while Karina and Winter walk side by side to the grand elevator.

Karina presses their floor number.

Neither of them say anything.

The elevator door slowly closes.

"So..ummh" Winter starts but before she can't finish her sentence Karina pushes her against the wall and pins Winter by her arms as she passionately kisses Winter.

After the suprise Winter quickly accomodates to the kiss and opens her mouth more, taking Karina's tongue inside her. Winter reaches out her hands and wraps them around Karina's neck.

Bling!

As the elevator door opens they part, panting, with a saliva string connecting their mouths.

Karina's red lipstick has left stains on Winter. Seeing them in the elevator mirror Winter starts to giggle and then takes Karina's hand and leads them out of the elevator.

"What's the hurry?" Karina says.

Winter smiles and gives her a kiss.

"Just open the door already" she says.

As the door closes behind them Winter leans in for a kiss but Karina blocks her mouth with her hand.

"Not so fast" Karina says.

"I have a gift for you. But before your reward i have to punish you. Remember that you lost when you touched me," Karina says as she brushes her hand on Winter's cheek.

"Wasn't the broken champagne glass enough of a humiliation?"

"No, I'm not that forgiving. I have to make sure you've learned your lesson"

"Karina is so mean~"

"That's what you like"

Winter bites her lip.

Karina starts circling Winter slowly like a predator cornering its prey. She slowly drags her fingers across Winter's body, who is already shivering. Placing herself behind Winter, Karina unzips her dress slowly making it fall on the ground.

Now Winter is only her white lace underwear.

Karina kisses Winter's neck, collarbones, her smooth white skin that's rising as she slowly takes her bra off, Karina takes Winter's breast in her mouth and licks her nipple.

Winter gasps.

"You're so cute like this" Karina says.

She bites Winter's nipple teasingly.

Winter lets out a whine in agony but Karina doesn't stop. She pinches her other nipple as she bites to the other one.

Winter is now breathing heavily.

"Aaah Karina it hurts!"

Karina only smiles, she grabs Winter's hair and pulls her back as she kisses her passionately.

"MMhhh" Winter lets out.

With Karina still fully dressed and Winter only with her underwear on, Karina pulls Winter to the ground from her hair.

Winter feels a shiver go through her. It always happens when Karina takes the lead. It all started in dance practise back when they were rookies. And it still makes her heart drop.

Winter kneels and places herself on Karina's feet.

Karina pulls her Hermes scarf from her hair and lets her long silky hair fall over.

"Give me your hands" Karina says.

Winter does as she's told.

Karina ties her hands together with the scarf tightly.

At this point Winter has already lost her mind, she is fully in Karina's control. She had waited this for so long.

"Come here" Karina points to the bed.

Karina guides Winter's head to rest on her lap. She caresses Winter's hair.

"You know you've been a bad girl?"

"Yeah" Winter lets out her chest rising as she is trying on hold her excitement.

"And what happend to bad girls?" Karina says as she moves her fingers to circle Winter's ass.

"They get punished" Karina says sternly as she lands a slap on Winter's ass.

"Ahh!" Winter lets out.

The slap stings and Winter feels her whole body come alive.

There is no way out now. She is fully in Karina's control.

With her hands tied, she is can do nothing but take Karina's slaps.

This is the feeling she's missed the whole week.

Karina keeps spanking her until Winter is but a whimpering mess.

Karina grabs Winter's hair, drool dripping from her mouth.

"Who do you belong to?" Karina says.

Winter can barely comprehend what is happening.

"Say it" Karina says as she continues spanking Winter.

"Mmhh yo---you!" Winter whimpers.

Karina smirks.

"Good girl" she says and lands a kiss on Winter's forehead.

Karina lets Winter calm down her breath. Winter's whole body is shivering from the experience.

She lifts Winter up from her limp arms, revealing Winter's flushed face. Karina wipes Winter's drool and pulls her waist so Winter sits on Karina's lap. She unties the scarf and Winter falls on Karina's embrace, her head resting on Karina's breasts. She lets her breath calm down as Karina plays with her hair.

"I think you've deserved your gift now," Karina whispers.

"Mmhh," Winter mumbles. She starts pulling Karina's zipper. She pulls the dress down on her waist revealing Karina's black bra. She raises her gaze to meet Karina's as if asking for permission. Karina only smirks as she takes off her bra and Winter buries her head between her bare breasts. This might be her favorite place in the whole world.

"You still want your gift?" Karina asks as she pats Winter's hair.

"Yeah..." Winter whispers.

Karina places Winter on the bed as she rises and lets the dress fall on the ground. She reaches for her bag and pulls a little gift box.

"Here," Karina says as she hands it to Winter and sits next to her on the bed.

Winter opens the box that reveals a small luxurious glass bottle.

"What is it?" Winter asks.

"It's a massage oil. I bought it from Chanel"

Winter opens the bottle and smells it.

"Aah vanilla!"

"You like it?"

"I love it!"

Karina pulls Winter back on her lap and takes the bottle from Winter's hands.

She pours slowly oil to Winter's bare chest. The vanilla scent fills the air.

Karina starts massaging Winter's collarbones, arms, and lastly - her breasts, to which Winter gasps.

She pulls Winter close to herself as she pours some oil on Winter's ass, which is covered with red marks. Winter can only hold on thight to Karina as she is getting more aroused.

Suddenly Karina pushes Winter to the bed and lifts her legs.

She kisses Winter's ankle and pours oil all over her long legs.

Karina starts massaging her legs, starting with long strokes oiling up her legs.

Winter tries to close her legs in embarassement but Karina forces them to stay open revealing the wet stain on Winter's panties.

Karina adds pressure as she works her hands slowly upwards Winter's thighs.

She pours oil on Winter's panties making them translucent. She starts slowly massaging her inner thighs towards her labia.

Winter spasm from the touch and lets out a whine.

Karina holds her still with one hand as she continues massaging Winter who is squirming from the pleasure.

"Enough!" Winter whines.

"Enough what?" Karina asks.

"Just fuck me already" Winter pleads.

"If you insist," Karina smiles and she starts pulling down Winter's panties while kissing her lower stomach.

She continues the trail of kisses down towards Winter's pussy.

Karina takes a one long lick which makes Winter gasp.

Her wetness tastes like vanilla. She is truly the sweetest girl, Karina thinks.

Karina starts licking Winter who can only grab Karina's hair and try to hold herself still.

Karina inserts a finger inside her making Winter arch her back.

She licks her clitoris as she works her finger inside her.

"Ahh Karina," Winter pleads.

Karina adds another finger inside her and fastens the pace.

She can feel Winter opening to her as her wetness glides her fingers in and out.

The wet sounds and Winter's gasps fill the air.

Karina could do this forever.

Her sweet girl...

"Karina! I'm-- I'm coming!"

"Not yet"

Karina adds a third finger and presses her thumb over Winter's clitoris.

Winter's whole body moves to the fast pace Karina fucks her.

She has become a whimpering mess.

"Karina! Karina... please!" Winter mumbles.

Karina moves closer to Winter pressing her breasts against Winter's.

"My sweet dirty girl," Karina murmurs.

"Ahh Karina!" Winter whimpers.

Winter can feel the wave of pleasure take over her as she lets herself be fucked by Karina.

She can only whimper and grab tightly to Karina as she comes.

Karina lets herself fall on top of Winter and let their breath become one.

Their sweaty oily bodies have merged together as they hold onto each other.

Karina kisses Winter's forehead.

"I love you," Karina whispers.

Tears are forming on Winter's eyes.

"I love you too Karina," Winter says in a breathy voice.

They entagle in a deep kiss.

Night has fallen to Paris, the city of love, but the dark hours are full of sweet vanilla love for the two girls.

#aespa smut #karina smut #winter smut #aespa fanfic #gg smut #winrina #wlw smut

[mono-dot-jpeg]

tucking you in - himeko, kafka

summary; just some sweet platonic fluff with the aunts

genre/extra tags; scenarios, fluff, family fic, idk what else to say like, it's cute fluffy and sweet, child! reader, kafka and himeko are referred to as aunts

[platonic] [5-6 yrs old! reader] [gender neutral reader]

a/n; not much to say about this one tbh. just enjoy some fluff. also kafka's scenario is based off my memories with my mom when i was stuck at family parties late at night with her.

"now, now. your exploring must come to an end, little star." she hummed. you feel yourself getting picked up by himeko, soon turning you to rest your head on her shoulder.

"i don't wanna sleep though. why can't i stay up a little longer?" you moved your head to press your cheek on her shoulder and face her a bit better. "you can't even tell it's like night time here! we live in space!" you pointed at the windows of the express, clearly seeing the glittering stars and void of space.

"mm, yes i know, but even the brightest stars need to rest." she pokes your side, making you giggle. "if they burn too long, they get tired-" you yawn. "just like you."

"mhn.. but..."

"but?"

"but i'm not-" you try to hold back a yawn but fail, "tired."

"of course, of course. we're just going to grab your favorite book to read, and we're gonna lay down, get all comfy.." her soothing voice almost sings like a lullaby as she speaks softly through the halls of the passenger rooms. as you pass by each room, you can hear different sounds.

dan heng's room is humming like a quiet engine from the data library, march is still humming a little tune while she gets ready for bed, trailblazer is shuffling around organizing their room as they settle in, it's an interesting sensation of comfort when you sleep knowing that you have family right by your side. and welt's room is the most quiet of them all, you've never really been in his room but you know it has a lot of "old people things" as you once said.

"we're here." she sang quietly as she opened the door. it was currently a shared room for you and himeko. "you want to stay by my side tonight?" you nodded sleepily. you get ready for bed, though himeko is mostly helping you as your body is limp from how tired you are. "my tired little star.. look at you." she coos, cupping your cheek just squishing it for a moment.

before you know it, you're carried by himeko once again and your head hits the pillow, luring you into a deep sleep next to your aunt.

kafka... was a busy woman. you knew that, everyone knew that. she was just busy.

but that never meant that she never had time for you.

actually more often than not, she would be taking you around when she can. it was really endearing. blade wasn't amused, but she didn't care. and you didn't care either.

but also kafka's encounters and adventures.. were kind of boring. you were there to at least make it tolerable for her. but then you got bored too. and with being bored came being tired.

tonight was slightly less boring night, it was a meeting though so how less boring could it really be. could you even call it a meeting when they're all playing cards? they were still discussing big kid stuff from what you could hear. you didn't understand much of what they were saying. everyone was sat on the floor with a comfortable mat to sit on. your head rested on kafka's thigh as you zone out from the conversation.

you feel your hair get played with. kafka's free hand threads through your hair gently tugging out knots and scratching your scalp just a little bit. "you can sleep if you want, kid. we're gonna be here for a while." she mutters to you.

it takes you a while to fall asleep but hearing the chatter of blade, kafka, and silver wolf has you feeling tired quick. and you fall asleep.

"do we have a blanket?" kafka asks the others. "blade-y? can you grab one from the kid? you're losing anyways, so might as well." she snickers quietly. he obliges, tossing the blanket to her. she catches it, laying the blanket over you. "maybe get a pillow too?" blade gives her a look.

"no."

"you never think of the child, blade."

"i don't care about the child."

"don't ever talk to me or my kid ever again."

#honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #kafka x reader #kafka honkai star rail #hsr kafka #himeko hsr #himeko honkai star rail #hsr himeko #himeko x reader

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 - 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re not sure why you feel the way you do but everything is just so overwhelming. what better way to relieve stress than by going to bug your favorite cocky bastard?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i’m hoping to post this weekend, possibly earlier, possibly later as i’m also finishing up another fic. (in case you’re interested: link here, it's for bakugou katsuki) also! i made a ko-fi, click here. totally not required, especially not for requests, but i am graduating soon (like 2 weeks from today) and if you’d like to support me outside of liking, reblogging, commenting, etc. there’s a way to do it! (plus i rlly like coffee) again, totally not required, but if you do, i greatly appreciate it! p.s. requests are open, check here! p.s.s. check out my other lip fics, distractions and flowers & other bullshit!

fic here!

- ❤︎ -

Based on previous experience, you knew that sleep stood no chance against the literal bumping and grinding of your roommate and their partner right outside your room. With a frustrated sigh, you pull yourself out of bed, slipping on a hoodie and sweatpants. At least these clothes don’t feel so suffocating.

You move around your room in the dark to find your shoes. You weren’t sure where you’d kicked them when you came home, hazardously tossing your clothes off so you could dive into bed. You think about turning the light on, but considering the headache begging for stimulus, you decide against it.

You finally come across a pair of shoes - well, correction: slippers. Better than nothing, you think as you slide your feet inside. You bring your hood down over your head, practically shielding your face before leaving your room.

The sounds are even louder as you walk past the couch, and you make a mental note to rearrange the living room the next time you don’t feel like shit.

You practically stomp over to the door, not even caring to be quiet. If your roommate doesn’t give a flying fuck, neither do you. They pause long enough for your roommate to apologize with what you know is another sheepish smile.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes as you open the door, “fuck both of you.”

You close the door behind you and almost laugh when you remember they were doing just that. You’re not sure which is worse: staying in the apartment with your roommate being extremely loud or having nowhere to go. You think about it for a second when you realize that both are equally as bad.

You’re about to start stressing again when you think of something else, or rather, someone else. As you meander through the apartment hallways, grimacing at every loud noise you encountered, you flip out your phone and text the one person you know won’t disrespect your privacy like your roommate.

- hey, can I come over?

The elevator dings and you pocket your phone, boarding the chute. You grimace at the bright lights and the loud chattering of the two people in the corner. While you realize that they aren’t meaning to be so obnoxious, you heave a sigh, waiting to reach your desired floor.

Just when you think you’ll simply combust if you hear one more hyena-like laugh, the elevator dings once again, and when you sigh this time, it’s in relief.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you check it as you step off, beginning your walk down the hall.

- aww, u missed me, didn’t u?

Your eyes roll as a smile tugs at your lips. You’re about to respond when another text comes through.

- come on over. we both know u just can’t live without me

The cocky bastard, you muse, not bothering to text back when you approach the door you’ve been desperately waiting to see. You go to knock when the door opens, and you perk up a bit, only to frown slightly when you notice it’s not the person you came to bother.

Tyler, you think that’s his name, grins at you then opens the door wider for you to step inside. “Hey, Lip, your girlfriend’s here.”

Before you can correct him, Lip rounds the corner, greeting you with a sly smirk. “That was quick. Bet you were just racing to get here.”

Upon seeing your favorite cocky asshole, you feel your stress relieving. With a scoff and roll of your eyes, you deny his accusation. “One, I wasn’t racing. And two, I think we both know who can’t live without who here, and just a hint: it’s not me.”

Lip bites back a laugh, dipping his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants as he brings you closer. His lips are pressing against yours before you even register him leaning in. When you do register it, he’s pulling away, leaving you chasing after him.

The brunet laughs then, “What was that again, babe? Something about you being able to live without me?”

You huff, the corners of your mouth tilting down and your brows creasing. It was such a Lip thing to rub it in your face. You just know if the roles were reversed, and he was the one having a bad day, he’d be all over you.

“C’mere, you baby.” Lip pulls you closer to him, smirking as he kisses you again. You press into him, sighing softly against his mouth. It seemed like with each kiss, your stress was melting away, little by little.

You felt the brunet’s exploratory hands caressing the skin just beneath your waistband. Before they can reach any further, a laugh comes from behind you. “Aren’t you two just so cute.”

Shit, you flush with embarrassment. So caught up with Lip, you couldn’t help forgetting Tyler there by the door. You go to move away from the brunet, but he holds you still, one hand cradling your head and the other raising his middle finger to his friend.

It’s a simple ‘fuck you’ that does nothing but send the other boy into a fit of rambunctious laughter.

“Okay, okay,” Tyler snickers, “I’m going.” The door opens once more and right before it closes, Tyler calls over his shoulder, “Don’t have too much fun, kiddos.”

If you think you were embarrassed before, it doesn’t surpass now as you finally separate from Lip, face burning as you plant it on his chest.

You feel the brunet’s chest rumbling as he attempts to contain his laughter. “C’mon, let’s go to my room before Tyler starts creeping on us.”

- ❤︎ -

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hopefully this satisfies any cravings until i’m able to post! check here for my other writing — chaos

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fanfiction #chaos.answers ☎️ #chaos.wips 🖋 #chaos-is-beautifvl #lip x reader #lip gallagher fluff #phillip gallagher x reader

[life-at-hogwarts]

In the shadow of the past (Ominis x GN! reader)

Fluff with a dash of trauma

Pairing: Ominis x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, PTSD, abusive family

Word count: 3.6k

Summary: Ominis has decided to inform his family about the gruelling discovery you made in Slytherins scriptorium and has to return to the Gaunt estate for his aunts funeral for the first time in years. You and Sebastian accompany him for moral support.

“I don’t understand why you are not running. I’m a mess, in case you haven’t noticed,” Ominis broke the silence.

“Maybe I like your mess.”

“You will grow tired of it. Everybody does.”

“Never.”

He lifted his head, his cloudy grey eyes staring right into your soul and whispered, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Authors note: This is part two to my first fic ‘Crucio’. Nobody asked for it but I’m having too much fun with this right now. 

Part 1

“What have we here?,”  a dark voice growled and tore you from your sleep. Startled, you opened your eyes and blinked a few times to get them to focus. The first thing you saw was water. Your head was still clouded from the alcohol, and it took you a few seconds to remember where you were. Ominis was still fast asleep, snoring softly against your shoulder.

Finally, your gaze fell on a pair of legs, belonging to a fuming Professor Sharp. Next to him a Slytherin prefect was gloating, looking very satisfied with himself. No doubt he was the one who had told on you. Ominis who was not quite awake yet, nestled his face deeper into your neck. You gave him a gentle nudge, your cheeks already burning under the scathing looks of Professor Sharp and the wide grin of the Slytherin prefect. Still half asleep he raised a hand to your face, gently tracing your features. Finally, his brain figured out what was happening, and he shot up, his head painfully slamming into your chin. The prefect seemed to be amused by all of this, Professor Sharp, not so much. “Mr. Gaunt, I certainly did not expect this sort of behavior from you.” Now it was Ominis’ turn to blush. “It’s not what it looks like,” you protested.

“So Mr. Gaunt did not bring a student from another house into the Slytherin common room and the two of you did not consume illegal substances?”

“Maybe it’s a little what it looks like.”

“You have no idea, how much trouble you’re in. Now, where is the third troublemaker? I heard Mr. Sallow was not in his bed either.”

You looked at Ominis,, genuinely puzzled about where Sebastian could have been all night, and had to suppress a smile. His hair stuck to one side of his head, and he still looked sleepy and a bit confused. As if he had heard you talk about him, Sebastian strolled through the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Professor Sharp, waiting for him with crossed arms. “Mr. Sallow, how kind of you to join us. And where were you, if not at this private party with your usual partners in crime?”

Sebastian stared at Sharp in confusion, before his gaze fell to the spilled whiskey on the floor, then to the sofa. You scrambled to your feet, pulling Ominis up with you. Sebastian raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking positively flabbergasted. You gave him an awkward little wave an Ominis buried his face in his hand. “Now that you’re all here and awake you can get cleaned up and go to the great hall. I will pick you up after breakfast and bring you to the headmaster’s office. Professor Black will know what to do with you.”

Sharp insisted on escorting you out of the Slytherin common room and you lowered your head as you followed him, feeling the looks of the other students burning into your back. You could already hear them chatter excitedly and sighed. This was going to be a long day. Undoubtedly this would be spun into some sort of gossip story by breakfast.

Your instincts proved to be right. When you entered the great hall, half of the school had already heard what had happened, or at least some version of it. Too tired to engage in any of this childish behavior you chose to ignore it and made your way to the Slytherin table, fully aware that everyone was watching you. Sebastian quickly moved his plate to make space for you between him and Ominis, smiling at you mischievously. You knew exactly what he was up to and ignored him, demonstratively piling food on your plate.

“What exactly where you two doing in the common room?” he finally blurted out, and half of the table looked at you, not even trying to hide that they were listening.

“What did it look like? We got drunk and fell asleep on the floor. Where were you all night?”

Sebastian lowered his voice to make sure the others did not hear this part of the conversation and replied, “In the Undercroft, studying the journal.” Then he turned to his friend, “You’re awfully quiet Ominis. Are you still mad at me?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Ominis replied coldly.

“What do I have to do to get you to forgive me? Get you drunk and sleep with you?” Sebastian teased and gave you another mischievous grin. You rammed your elbows into his ribs. Hard.  The tall Slytherin gasped in surprise and doubled over in pain, muttering curses under his breath. You finished your breakfast in silence and were almost relieved when Professor Sharp came to your table to pick you up. The three of you followed him wordlessly to the headmaster’s office, where he left you at the foot of the phoenix statue. Finally, Ominis spoke up, “Let me handle Professor Black. Just stay here.” You watched him walk up the stairs and turned to Sebastian for an explanation.

“He is going to use his name to get us out of trouble. Black is a close friend of the House of Gaunt, especially Ominis’ father. He may not be on speaking terms with his family, but he is never hesitant to exploit his status.” The way he said it made you think this was not the first time Ominis had gotten them out of trouble that way. For some reason, this left a bitter taste in your mouth, especially after what had happened last night the two of you certainly did not deserve Ominis protecting you from the consequences of your actions.

After half an hour Ominis emerged from the office, his face expressionless. “All done. We’re free to go. He’s not even going to take away housepoints from us.”

Both of you stared at him in disbelief. Something was not right about this. Black was not exactly lenient when it came to breaking school rules. Even Sebastian could not believe it. “What did you do?”

Ominis face was unreadable. “I guess you’ll see soon enough.”

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

The rest of the morning went by relatively quickly. Divination was boring as always and you struggled to stay awake but at least it gave you time to recover a little from last night’s events. You met Ominis and Sebastian again in third period – potions class with Sharp. Luckily the Professor did not bring up this morning’s events. Whatever bargain Ominis had struck with the headmaster was sure effective. He still had not told you what exactly he had come up with to get you out of trouble, in fact he had barely spoken a word with you the entire day. You understood how overwhelming the past 12 hours must have been for him, but a part of you was scared he acted like this because of the gossip and Sebastian’s stupid comment at breakfast.

After class, the three of you left together to get lunch. As soon as you stepped outside of the classroom you immediately noticed the tall blonde woman on the other side of the corridor. You had never seen her before, but she looked oddly familiar. Before you could figure out what was going on she walked straight towards you. Sebastian gave you a nudge and you looked at Ominis, who had stopped dead in his tracks, his entire body alert.

“Mother.”

“Professor Black informed us about your find. Your father is retrieving the remains from the Undercroft, and you are going to come home with us. Tomorrow we will hold a funeral for Noctua,” the woman declared cooly, not even bothering to look at Sebastian and you.

Your jaw dropped when you finally connected the dots. Ominis had told the headmaster the truth, or at least a part of it, knowing it would mean having to see his family again. It was painful to watch how his entire demeanor changed and he retreated into himself more and more under the cold gaze of his mother. Finally, he regained his composure and replied, “If I must go, I want to extend the invitation to my friends. They were the ones who helped me find her. It would only be right.” His voice was as cold as hers, his face expressionless.

Her icy blue stare shifted to you for a moment and her lips curled in disapproval. “A half-blood? I expected better than this,” she sneered, shooting you another dirty look.

“An honor to meet you Mrs. Gaunt,” you retorted, forcing yourself to give her a polite smile. Right now, your hurt ego was insignificant, it was important to make a good impression, or Ominis would have to face his family alone. Sebastian immediately picked up on what you were doing and did the same.

“At least they are well mannered, I suppose. Alright. Your friends are invited to stay with us for tonight as well. Go pack your things. We leave in 20 minutes.”

With that she turned around and walked away, her steps echoing through the empty corridor. As soon as she was out of sight, Ominis sighed deeply. “Hope you didn’t have any plans for tonight.”

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

The Gaunt estate was like nothing you had ever seen before. You had heard that the Gaunts were practically wizarding world royalty, but only now did you understand what that meant. Growing up in a middle-class household you marveled at the gardens, that were really the size of a park, and the stables – they had their own stables for Merlin’s sake. Sebastian too was rendered speechless by the opulence flaunted in your faces. The only one indifferent to all of this was Ominis. His entire posture had changed now that he was back at his family home. He held himself with aristocratic elegance, careful not to let his guard down for even a second. You had caught some glimpses of his upbringing at Hogwarts, but never seen him like this. It was like he was an entirely different person, but you had to admit, nobility looked good on him.

The Gaunts had invited you to dinner, and you were led into a lavishly appointed dining room, by one of their human servants where Ominis’ mother was already waiting. Shortly after you were joined by his siblings Marvolo and Metis and finally Mr. Gaunt himself. You felt Ominis flinch next to you when his father entered the room. Even you could sense the dark presence that seemed to radiate from Erebus Gaunt when his gaze moved from his son over to you and Sebastian.

“So tell us, son, what did you find in the scriptorium? It must have been so exhilarating, uncovering the secrets of our great ancestor Salazar Slytherin. We want to hear everything about it,” he asked, his cold voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

“I wish I’d never gone there. It was horrible,” Ominis replied quietly, his entire body turning rigid under the probing look of his father.

“Come on now, you have to give us something. We are dying to know,” Marvolo joined in. For a moment you sat in awkward silence as his entire family stared at him in anticipation.

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

You gave Sebastian a subtle nudge, and he stepped in. “Maybe Ominis is not the right person to ask, he didn’t actually see the scriptorium. I could tell you about it if you’re interested.”

“Go ahead, don’t keep us waiting, boy.”

Sebastian was eager to tell them about your adventure and Ominis exhaled shakily when his family’s attention shifted to his friend. You gently touched his leg with yours, to let him know he was not alone in this. He relaxed a little and leaned into your touch for a moment before pulling away. When Sebastian finished his description of the scriptorium, Ominis’ father smiled contently, “Oh, what an exciting story. I am so glad Ominis has friends who push him to explore his family history. Maybe someday you will be ready to accept what it means to be a Gaunt after all.”

“My views on the dark arts haven’t changed, if that’s what you’re referring to, father.” An unsettling silence fell over the room.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Metis tried to diffuse the situation, but it was too late. Erebus had gotten up from his chair and slammed his fist on the table with so much force that his wine glass fell over, spilling its contents on the white tablecloth. You shuddered under the disgusted glare he gave his son. His wrath vibrated through the room, and it scared you to think what he was capable of. Everyone at the table held their breaths, waiting for Erebus’ next move. Ominis had frozen next you, seemingly expecting his father to lash out and punish him. Finally, Mr. Gaunt forcefully pulled back his chair and left the room without another word. Ominis’ mother was the first to break the silence.

“Well, I suppose it’s late anyway. Ominis please show our guests to their chambers. I’ve had the house elf prepare two of the guest rooms in the west wing.”

“Certainly.” Ominis gave his mother a respectful nod and stiffly got up from the table, gesturing you to follow him.

As soon as you had left the room Ominis collapsed into himself, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He closed his eyes for a moment and clenched his fists, as he tried to get a hold of himself. After what you had just witnessed you could imagine what his childhood must have been like having Erebus Gaunt as a father. Even Sebastian looked worried, his voice unusually soft when he asked, “Are you sure you want to stay here?”

Ominis gave you a pained smile and straightened his back. “It’s only one night. I’ll survive. Now come on, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

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

A few hours later you woke up feeling parched. A quick glance at the clock informed you that it was three in the morning. After lying awake for another half an hour or so, you decided to go find a bathroom and quietly slipped out of your room. You wandered around the mansion, trying to remember which of the many doors was the right one when suddenly a figure emerged from the shadows, making you jump.

“Merlin’s beard! Ominis, you scared me half to death. What are you doing here?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Are you alright?” you asked, assuming his nightly walk had something to do with what had happened at dinner. When he moved closer you could see that his nightshirt clung to his body, and his hair was damp with sweat.

“I can’t sleep. Night terrors. Things I thought I had buried ages ago… let’s just say everything that happened in the last 24 hours have brought it to the surface. Or maybe it’s just being in this godforsaken house. I don’t know. I can’t think straight,” he murmured and tiredly rubbed his face.

“I’m sorry. I cannot even imagine what you must be going through right now.”

“Looks like it’s going to be another sleepless night,” he sighed, before continuing timidly, “Would you like to keep me company?”

“Of course. Where do keep the whiskey around here?” you teased, and a little smile formed on his lips. Instead of answering, he signaled you to follow him. You were surprised with how much ease he navigated around the house without his wand, even after not having been here in such a long time. Your journey came to an abrupt halt in front of a half-open door, and Ominis paused for second before pushing it open, revealing the dimly lit room behind it. You glanced through the doorframe at a neatly arranged bedroom, centered around a massive four-poster bed with emerald green velvet drapes.

“You can look around if you want to,” he mumbled, looking a bit nervous all of a sudden. You let your eyes wander around the room, trying to take in everything. The bed and furniture were crafted out of dark, solid wood and bore the Gaunt family crest. On the wall next to the window, a painting caught your eye, and you moved closer to investigate. It was a family portrait of the Gaunts, and you couldn’t resist searching for Ominis face, to see what he had looked like when he was younger.  Meanwhile, Ominis had made himself comfortable on the bed, patiently waiting for you to satisfy your curiosity. When you finally flopped down next to him, he asked, “Did you find anything interesting?”

“Not really. I can tell you haven’t lived here in a while. How long has it been?”

“Five, six years? I don’t know. I didn’t plan on ever coming back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad that you came, both of you I mean. Sebastian has my parents wrapped around his little finger and you… I’m just glad you are here too.”

A long silence followed, and you were suddenly very aware of how close you were, mere inches apart, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. Your heart started racing at the thought of this. Knowing how good Ominis was at picking up these sorts of cues, you tried to force yourself to calm down. The air was thick with tension, and you frantically tried to think of something to say. Finally, he took a deep breath, mustering up all of his courage and blurted out, “I liked waking up next to you today.”

“Me too,” you replied timidly.

After another short pause he continued, “I also liked this.”  He took your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. Instead of answering you pulled him into your arms and wrapped your body around him. For a while, neither of you said anything and you relished in the intimacy of the moment. Then he gently lifted his hand to your face, and traced your features, exploring every inch of it. His touch was light as a feather, his fingers barely brushing against your skin, and you trembled with pleasure when he moved down your neck, towards your clavicle. The flickering light of a candle painted Ominis’ face with dancing shadows, and you absentmindedly stroked his hair, gently twirling it in your fingers. Seeing his face soften as he let down his guard made your heart soar and you would have been completely content admiring him in silence for another few hours, learning the constellations of his beauty marks and exploring the galaxies in the depth of his eyes.

“I don’t understand why you are not running. I’m a mess, in case you haven’t noticed,” Ominis broke the silence, and you stopped playing with his hair, to look at him.

“Maybe I like your mess.”

“You will grow tired of it. Everybody does.”

“Never.”

He lifted his head, his cloudy grey eyes staring right into your soul and whispered, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

You wanted to assure him but couldn't find the words, and even if you did there was little chance, he would believe you. Instead, you gently cupped his face in your hands and placed a soft kiss on his slightly parted lips. Ominis’ eyes widened in surprise, and he pulled away for a moment. Then he placed a hand against your neck, his thumb caressing your jawbone. You held your breath in anticipation, electricity shooting through your body when he leaned in, and his lips crashed against yours.

The vehemence of his kiss took your breath away. You had expected him to be gentle and coy, but he pressed his lips against yours with the desperation of a drowning man. He didn’t just want you, he needed you. Your body responded to his touch instinctively, and you deepened the kiss, passionately grabbing the collar of his shirt. Ominis smiled against your lips when he pulled away. “Easy there.”  You leaned your forehead against his and closed your eyes for a moment, trying to catch your breath. After staying like this for a few more moments you sank back into the pillows, Ominis resting his head on your chest.

“I like the sound of your heartbeat,” he murmured sleepily. “Did you know that each person has a unique heartbeat? Isn’t that beautiful? It’s like each and every one of us have our own love song right inside of us. You just have to listen.”

“A love song?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just overtired and rambling nonsense.”

“Not at all. I think it’s beautiful. I just didn’t peg you for a hopeless romantic, that’s all.”

“Not what you expect from the heir of Salazar Slytherin, is it?”

“We can’t choose our family.”  

You continued to run your fingers through his hair, and he sighed contently when you placed a kiss on the top of his head. Neither of you spoke but it was a peaceful kind of silence. Slowly the soft light of dawn started to seep through the windows. You lazily stretched your stiff limbs and sighed, “The sun is coming up. I should go back to my room before anyone finds me here.”  Ominis responded with an unintelligible noise, not showing any intention to move. Only when you awkwardly started to extricate yourself from his grip, he finally rolled over, reluctantly letting you get out of his bed.

When you turned around to leave, he grabbed your wrist and with one swift movement pulled you back in, placing another quick kiss on your lips. “Not so fast.”

#ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #ominis x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian x ominis #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts imagine #ominis x you #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts is my home #hp fanfic #hp fandom #fanfic #slytherin #garreth weasley #ominis gaunt headcanon #emotional whump #hurt/comfort #whump fic