#` ✦ ⋮ ic ⋮ late night devil; put your hands on me; and never let go.

[courtforshort15]

Where the Love Light Gleams

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 3,400

Summary: It’s Christmas Day, and reader has some news to share

Trigger warnings: Pregnant reader/announcement. Super fluffy and sweet.

Inspired by the way my mom told my dad about expecting my brother.

Masterlist

When your eyes slowly flutter open, you're not quite sure what time it is. 

It's hard to tell, the gray skies of New York City making it difficult to know how late you've slept, the light coming in through the window muted. Silk sheets are warm and soft upon your skin, no doubt having a large hand in the way you had slept so soundly, and they slide soothingly over your body as you roll on to your side. Snow had started falling late last night, or so Matt had told you when he slid into bed behind you, skin cold as ice against your back as he pressed into you, attempting to take as much warmth from you as he could.

You'd shrieked and attempted to wiggle away, but he'd pulled you back to him, wrapping himself more closely around you and laughing in your ear, left arm sliding itself under your head to act as a pillow, right arm lung across your abdomen with its hand resting itself over your heart. You’d fallen back asleep not too long after, safe and secure in the knowledge that he was beside you, relatively pain free and whole.

Matt’s a giver, never failing to offer everything he has to just about anyone who needs his help, never failing to give up his blood and flesh and strength when there’s no one else to stand between a victim and a hunter. He isn’t always used to taking, isn’t used to asking, but there’s nothing he could take from you or ask of you that isn’t already his, the warmth of your skin included.

Stretching, your eyes eventually land on Matt as he makes his way into the bedroom, sweatpants low on his hips and white t-shirt stretched across muscles he’s spent years developing and maintaining, a soft grin playing on his lips. There’s a cup of coffee in his hands, and you can’t help but stare at it longingly, the scent of it already sliding through you.

It’s not long before he’s sitting on the side of the bed next to you, his eyes bright and unseeing as they flit across the room that had once upon a time just been his. It’s hard to imagine what sleeping anywhere else might feel like, needing his love pressed into you at all times like a brand, especially in the moments when you are most vulnerable. His hand reaches out to run the back of his fingers down your cheek, and there’s not a single inch of your body that doesn’t react to the gentle way in which he touches you.

The same Devil that snaps at the heels of the villains of the night is the same man who does nothing but remind you of his love for you with soft smiles and soothing fingers.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he whispers, leaning down to press a sweet, tender kiss against your mouth, one that you can’t help but lean into, raising your head slightly to meet him. You feel him smile slightly against your lips, and you relish the way he feels against you, refusing to take for granted every second that he’s warm and safe and yours. 

Matt eventually pulls away, lips hovering over yours for just a few seconds more, before straightening back up. His dark hair is damp, and it hangs slightly over his forehead, lacking the amount of effort he puts into styling it every morning before heading to work. You’re the only one who gets to see him like this, unpolished and relaxed in a way he never is for the outside world, and to you, he never looks more beautiful than he does in these moments.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, hand reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“I always sleep okay with you next to me.” Your voice is rough and dry from sleep, but no less warm and affectionate. “Did you? Did you sleep alright?”

“I always sleep okay with you next to me,” he echoes, smile widening when you nudge his knee in response. Yawning, you finally sit up, sliding yourself closer to Matt, leaning your forehead briefly against his before pulling back and brushing your lips on his cheek. Taking the cup of coffee that he’s brought in for you, you pull back slightly and take a long sip, the warmth of it sliding down your throat and heating you from the inside out. 

He sighs when you kiss cheek again in thanks, and the sound is content and so damn happy that you take a quick moment to savor the way his body reacts to being at peace. He glows, skin and eyes and smile absolutely radiant, even as he simply sits on the bed, body tilted towards yours. Behind him, lights flicker on the Christmas tree that sits in front of the window directly left of the couch, and your smile widens when you realize he’d turned them on, the gentle hum of electricity in his ears a reminder that he had someone to call his own and spend Christmas with, something that had been ripped away from him long ago.

You’d known when you first started dating him that holidays were a bit of a…sore subject.

He hadn’t grown up like you did, or at least he hadn’t after his father died. Several years of your life had included being with family on Thanksgiving, visiting grandparents on Christmas Eve, baking cookies for Santa and slashing open presents eagerly at 7am on Christmas Day. Several years of loved ones and cheesy Christmas music and decorating trees.

But every day that you'd spent celebrating with your family were the same days Matt had spent alone, curled up on a twin sized mattress, cursed ears hearing every single celebration and moment of joy in the homes that surrounded the orphanage. Matt needed his ears to navigate himself around a world that had all but dismissed him, but he’d told you he had never hated them more than the nights he heard loved ones gather, words of love and happiness shared freely, while he remained alone with no one to gather around him. 

And so, you’d spent the last four years doing your best to heal a wound that never should have been there.

Matt makes breakfast while you shower, and you can hear him singing along quietly to the music he plays in the background, mixtures of soft classics and upbeat pop songs filling your home. It’s so domestic, the sound of bacon sizzling and Matt puttering around in the kitchen, and sometimes you can’t fathom how you’d found yourself here, found yourself a man who wanted nothing more than to share these quiet moments with you.

His phone rings while you’re getting dressed, and you don’t even need the phone to announce who's calling to know who is on the other side of the line. Matt temporarily stops what he’s doing to answer and puts the call on speaker, no doubt aware you’re listening in. 

“Merry Christmas, you filthy animals!” Foggy’s voice rings through the apartment, loud and boisterous, joy spilling from the phone. Voices that are just as loud are heard in the background, Foggy’s large family thrown together in the room above their deli. No doubt his young cousins are stealing candy and comparing presents amongst each other, the adults drinking eggnog and making brunch together. Christmas with his family is an all-day event, something that Marci never fails to roll her eyes at in good humor, not-so secretly enjoying every moment.

Matt’s joined them on more than one occasion, had done so especially as a kid still in college, desperate to spend a holiday with a normal, loving family. He’d all but been adopted into the Nelson clan, his invitation to join any family event open and lovingly repeated tirelessly.

You’ll never be able to fully articulate how grateful you are to Foggy for offering his home to Matt when he’d needed it most, long before you’d met and made it your one goal in life to give him a safe space where he could take what he needed, knowing he’d never have to ask and that you’d never say anything but yes.

“Merry Christmas, Foggy,” you yell, hoping the phone will pick up your voice from where you stand in the bedroom, pulling a shirt over your head. Throwing the towel you’d used to dry your hair in the hamper, you make your way into the kitchen, pressing another kiss to Matt’s cheek before grabbing plates and silverware to set the table. “How’s the family?”

“They’re everywhere,” he answers with a fond bout of laughter. “I’m not sure how it gets bigger every year, but somehow there’s always new people joining us.”

“I can relate to that,” you respond easily with a brief snort, smile sliding across your face at the thought. “Between my three sisters, there are five children under the age of six. Dinner last night with the family was…”

“Loud,” Matt supplies. “Fun, but loud.”

“Oof,” Foggy says, and you imagine a playful wince crossing over his face, a fake shudder wracking his body. Foggy’s always been extremely expressive, every emotion playing clearly across his face and body, everything from humor to rage, and you can practically see his reaction in your mind. “One toddler is enough for me right now.”

As if on queue, Avery lets out a wail somewhere off to the side, and Foggy momentarily pauses to ask if the two year old is alright. Marci must answer because Foggy’s attention is gone for another few seconds before he comes back to the call. 

“Not looking to add another one to the mix? Add to the chaos that is the Nelson clan?” Matt adds to the conversation, turning the stove off and plating the bacon and eggs onto a serving dish with a spatula. You grab the plate from him and take it to the table, the pair of you a well-oiled machine, dipping while the other dodges. 

“Not right now. But who knows? Avery wasn’t exactly planned.”

“Who knows,” you echo him as you take a seat, face still tilted towards the phone so that your voice carries well enough for him to hear. “Maybe Avery will have a friend next year.” Matt must hear something in your voice because his face tilts towards you curiously, but he doesn’t say anything and apparently quickly waves it off. 

“Never say never,” Foggy says cheerfully. Someone calls his name and he responds easily, but it’s clear that he needs to hang up when he focuses back on the phone. “Anyway, got to go. We’ll see you later for Christmas dinner, right?”

Matt picks up the phone and brings it to the table, laying it next to his plate as the conversation winds down. “Absolutely.”

“Great, see you both later. Enjoy your day.” Foggy hangs up a split second later, and the apartment immediately settles back into the peaceful morning that had existed before his call.

Dishes are set in the sink when breakfast is done, Matt’s lips finding yours as you stand up and reach for his empty plate. His hands cup your face, blank eyes bright and hazel in the light from the window, and you're helpless to resist the gentle pull as you lean slightly down to where he’s sitting.

He releases you with a quiet I love you, and pushes his chair back to stand up and help you clear the table. It’s soft and sweet, the way he always handles you with such great care, and you’re both fully aware of the hold he has over you.

Not three minutes go by before you’re sitting in front of the tree, settled on the ground, legs crossed, Matt’s favorite blanket wrapped around your shoulders. He sits next to you, body angled towards yours, still amused after all these years that you’d rather sit this way instead of on the couch, but he humors you.

There are a few gifts under the tree that are placed lovingly on the rug that wraps around the bottom, each gift carefully selected and crafted with the other in mind. There’s always a certain anxiousness that sits with a person when thinking about something to get them as a gift, the nervous anticipation of whether or not they will like what you have gotten for them. You like to think you know him well enough to get him things you know he’ll find meaningful, but this year, the nerves exist at a level you haven’t been able to get rid of.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Matt can sense the worry that you’ve been trying so hard to contain, your lip sore from where you’ve bitten it repeatedly, but he’s always been pretty good about trusting you to let him inside your head when ready, rather than pushing for answers. Instead, he simply pulls your bottom lip gently from your teeth and runs a thumb over where you’ve irritated the skin, before pressing his mouth softly to yours.

This year, the cause of anxiety lies in an unsuspecting box, just inches from his foot, housing an ornament no larger than the size of a baseball.

It's been a tradition you'd developed, exchanging ornaments for Christmas every year, slowly building up the collection of decorations for the tree you pick out at the small lot near 54th and 11th every year. Last year he'd gotten you an ornament complete with an image of the two of you exchanging your vows, your wedding date written below in both text and braille, the date in question just a few short months before. You'd wasted no time laying him down on the rug, pulling him on top of you, and celebrating your first Christmas as a married couple under a blinking display of brightly colored lights that painted his skin beautifully. 

But this year…this year is different. It’s not just an ornament, not just something that will be hung on the tree and every tree for years to come, some funny or gentle reminder of the Christmas you’d shared in 2022. It's so, so much more.

Fingers trembling, unable to physically hide the sense of nervousness, you reach under the tree, picking up the box encased in satin, and hand it to him. He grabs your hand in his, sliding the gift into his other palm, and raises it to his lips. 

"Are you okay?" He asks, head tilting, no doubt having picked up on the steady increase in your heart rate. Your face flushes shyly, a color you thought had long faded away when it came to him, every single barrier of yours thrown open wide enough for him to step through with a love so ardent and effortless that it felt like he’d always been there.

"I'm fine," you tell him with a small smile. "I just want you to like it."

Matt leans over to give you a soft kiss to your warm cheek, the slight blush something he can’t see but can certainly feel as the red heats your skin. You know without him saying anything that he’s trying to convey that he’ll love whatever you’ve given him, regardless of what’s actually inside.

He pulls the box from your hands, tenderly running his fingers over the tag that has his name written in braille, before he slowly slides the satin off. The box opens easily for him, parting at the seams with little effort, the item inside waiting so patiently to be held. The color of it is that of deep wine, the shade a perfect match to the lenses he so often wears in public and the suit he had once upon worn before shifting back to black, and it’s a shade you’ve long come to associate with the man in front of you.

The glass looks so incredibly delicate in his battle-weary hands when he picks it up. Running his fingers over the first line of the ornament, a smile quirks on his lips, and it causes your pulse to skip a beat because the grin is not necessarily one of joy, but rather amusement.

"What is it?" You ask, voice mildly hurried in anticipation, and he turns his face towards yours, fingers finding your hand and bringing it to his mouth for a kiss in an attempt to soothe the worry that’s caused a wrinkle between your eyes.  

Matt shakes his head with a quiet laugh. "I think…they got the year wrong, sweetheart. It says 2023 instead of 2022."

Your shoulders are no less tense and square even as you let out a sigh of relief, a small grin resting on your lips. "Keep reading Matt. Just…keep reading."

Mouth twisted in amusement, Matt does just that, and your heart hammers in your chest when he suddenly freezes. It's only a second or two before he runs his fingers back over the ornament, once, twice, three times, as if trying to determine if he read it right.

But he did read it right, you know he did, because why else would he have frozen the way he did? And you know exactly what’s written, having paid a ridiculous amount of money to rush the  personalized ornament through on such short notice. 

2023

In delicate, swirly writing, the kind of calligraphy you could never hope to achieve, it says

Baby's First Christmas 

His head slowly turns back towards you, red mouth parted in surprise, and you can’t help but fidget in your seat, goosebumps pricking through your skin at the look on his face. Over the years, you’ve gotten quite good at reading him, the one person who can usually determine what’s going through his mind. But now, as your eyes search his face, you’re unable to figure out what he’s thinking, too busy wringing your hands in your lap and trying to stop the way your lips are trembling in nervousness.

Just a few months ago, the birth control pills had been thrown in the trash, the small tablets of hormones forgotten and happily discarded. But even though you’d been planning for it, even though every time he’d made love to you and finished inside you you’d hoped it might lead you here, it didn’t ease the anxiety in the moment of telling him.

"You're…"

You nod immediately, eyes continuing to take in every square inch of his face, dark hair still falling across his forehead and a faded bruise on his cheekbone. The light that trickles in through the window highlights the green in his eyes, a color you’ve never failed to get lost in, and you can’t help but hope for your child to have a pair that matches.  

A shaky breath escapes your mouth. "Yes."

He gulps, fingers tracing the ornament again, his face still directed towards you, no need to turn away while his fingers can do the reading for him. "You're sure?"

"I…I, yes. I think I’m only a few weeks along, and I still need to meet with the doctor to confirm, but everything I've taken so far is pos–"

Matt's mouth is on yours before you can finish speaking, ornament lovingly placed back inside the box before his fingers wrap around your shoulders and pull you towards him. He kisses you like he'll never get enough of the way your lips press against his, like he'll never get enough of how complete he feels with you in his life. 

Without warning, he rises to his knees, wraps his arms around your back and legs, and stands up smoothly, and it’s only a split second before your legs are wrapping around his waist in an action that’s been familiar for years. You laugh into his mouth, and he echoes the sound, steps smooth and hurried as he walks with you into the bedroom, mouth hungry even as he whispers how much he loves you into your skin. 

The news really had no chance to remain a secret, really. No chance at being kept hidden for long, not with Matt’s friends and his lack of a decent poker face.

Foggy, as astute as he is, hones in immediately on the fact that you refuse every glass of wine he places into your hand, and it’s not long before he declares himself as Godfather for all to hear.

[ginandtobacco]

Lady Luck

@erisweekofficial

Day One: Bargains

Pairing: Eris x OC

Summary: Eris makes a bargain with an elusive criminal known only as Lady Luck. His father's death in exchange for a position in his court; a bargain with the devil in exchange for a crown soaked in blood.

Warnings: mentions of gambling & alcohol, vague mentions of child abuse

Word Count: 4.2k

Authors Note: i had to cut a bunch of scenes because i need to go to bed and i didn't want to post late. but i'm still so happy to be participating <3

“A place in the Autumn Court. I’d be a lovely advisor, probably prettier than the ones your father—”

“Absolutely not,” Eris snapped back, the temperature in the room flaring with his anger.

The two unlikely companions were sat in a private room of The Molten Ruby; a shady invite only lounge in the Autumn Court’s capital that specialized in drugs, women, and gambling. Any faerie could acquire whatever their heart desired, so long as they had enough gold on hand.

The woman across from Eris was probably around his age, but it was so hard to tell with the strange mask that covered most of her face. Tiny disks of gold overlapped like chainmail, beginning at the crown of her head and slowly becoming more sparse until the bottom of her face was covered by nothing more than thin golden chains. It reminded him of a snake’s scales, shifting and shimmering as they reflected the candle light. The mask had the intended effect though, the woman could see Eris through the gaps in the metal and he wouldn’t be able to describe a single feature of her face other than her luminous dark skin and sinful red lips.

The woman was called Lady Luck. Everyone at The Molten Ruby had an alias, usually an obviously fake name, but Lady Luck’s reputation far outstripped any fake name she’d taken on. The card games she ran were legendary, famous for their large pots and her reputation for killing cheaters at the table. But Eris was here for her less well known skills.

“You’re asking quite a lot of me princeling,” she purred, a soft accent tinging her words. The casualness with which she took a sip of her wine infuriated him, a faint red mark staining the rim where her lipstick was wearing off. “An assassination is one thing, but framing someone complicates it.”

“Poisoning him and putting the bottle in Hadrian’s room is not a complicated matter.” But they both knew that wasn’t what Eris was looking for. If he’d wanted something that simplistic and easily scrutinized, he wouldn’t be here with Lady Luck. No, what he needed was a death so well planned and executed that even the idea of suspecting Eris would be ridiculous.

He wanted her, needed her. Lady Luck with her strange magic that didn’t seem to belong to any one court. Eris could feel her magic, she had never bothered to hide it, like electricity filling the air around her. He didn’t know what abilities she had, or how they work, just that she had a reputation for making things happen. Bad luck. That’s what people claimed her powers were, although he thought it was a ridiculous idea. It didn’t really matter what her powers were, so long as she could do what he needed.

Her blood red lips curved up, mocking him. “If that was all you needed then why couldn’t the Shadowsinger do it for you. I hear you’ve been spending quite a lot of time in the Night Court lately.”

Panic. Such a familiar emotion to Eris, but rarely had it ever been inspired by someone other than his father. Ice worked its way through his veins, snuffing out the fire that filled him and closing around his heart. “How do you know that?” His voice was no more than a whisper. 

She laughed, the sound melodic and too pretty for a female that held his life in the palm of her hand. “It’s my business to know these things, isn’t it?”

Luck was too pretty of a thing to call her, too rose colored and optimistic for the lethal female in front of him. No, she was a spider slowly spinning her web and watching happily as Eris wrapped himself in the sticky strands she’d woven just for him.

“It’s a bargain then.” 

The mark seared into the skin of his upper arm, constricting around his bicep like a snake. Lady Luck looked down at the matching mark on her own bare arm, a collection of autumn leaves and tangled vines. 

“I look forward to joining your court, my lord.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

It happened like this: Beron and Hadrian went out for a hunt with a handful of the lords Beron was trying to pressure into supporting his new tax policies. It happened as many hunts tend to when it is late in the season and there is little game to be found; the excitement of the sport replaced with freely flowing wine and leisurely riding through the forest. 

It happened like this: Hadrian saw a buck. The first game of the hunt and it was a deer larger than any he had ever seen before, with a pure white coat and antlers so large they looked cumbersome. Hadrian had always been the most egotistical of the brothers and it was no surprise when he loosed an arrow at the buck almost immediately after seeing it.

It happened like this: hours of drinking, a male who had never been a talented shot even when he was sober, and Beron’s horse getting spooked just as Hadrian released the arrow. An arrow aimed for a magnificent buck that only he had seen striking Beron clean through the left eye. 

There had been no trial. A dozen witnesses had rendered the need for one obsolete. A dozen witnesses who had seen Hadrian shoot his father clean between the eyes and all swore on their lives that they had seen no deer in the woods. A dozen witnesses who had seen the princeling’s face turn from fear, to elation, then finally to horror when he realized the crown had not in fact passed to him as he’d expected.

Eris had killed him quickly. A small mercy from the new high lord. A snap of his fingers and suddenly his brother was nothing more than a pile of ash on the floor of the throne room. The second oldest of the lot, the one born while Eris was away rebuilding the court after the first war with Hybern. The one closest in age to him and furthest from him in spirit; being swept into a dustpan by a servant with shaking hands.

Three dead brothers. A dead father. A mother he knew would leave for the Day Court come morning. A brother who still would not speak to him, who preferred the company of humans over him. Two brothers left in autumn, neither of whom he could trust but whose talents he needed.

Eris was high lord and he was somehow more alone than he had been before. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The female standing at the foot of his throne was beautiful. Hundreds of tiny braids cascaded down her back, swishing gently with every movement. Her dress was strange, certainly not a style common in Prythian. Intricate embroidery of a bursting heart covered the bodice and the gown synched at her waist, creating a rigid skirt that reminded him of a trumpet flower. The high neck didn’t include sleeves, slivers of her dark brown shoulders visible before her odd coat of voluminous red fabric hid it away.

And her calves… Eris was certain every faerie in the room was staring at the inches of bare skin visible between the end of her dress and her ankles. It was scandalous here in a court that valued modesty so heavily. Perhaps in the Night Court or in Day those six inches of bare calves would be normal but here, they were positively sinful.

“And who, pray tell, are you?” Eris asked, lazily propping his head on his hand. In truth, it was quite concerning that a strange female had managed to access the Forest House; to gain entry into his throne room of all places. But he needed to continue his facade of bored arrogance in front of the handful of advisors with whom he’d been discussing trade negotiations. 

The serpentine grin on her face shot cold fear through his veins. Eris felt the world slow as she let her strange coat slide down to her elbows, revealing a tattoo of twisting thorns and autumn leaves that encircled her bicep. “My name is Rosaline, I am the second daughter of the King of Montesere.” Somehow her smile seemed to grow, her brown eyes sparking with mischief as she stared up at him. “I believe we have something to discuss, High Lord.”

It was like being thrown into the icy lake of the Winter Court. This realization of how thoroughly Eris had been tricked by Lady Luck— Rosaline. The slight accent that he had dismissed, the magic that didn’t belong to any of the courts of Prythian, the strange mask that had hidden her identity so thoroughly. Even this dress she wore with the embroidery of the bursting heart— a symbol associated with Montesere. 

Eris had made a bargain with the devil and she had come to collect, and it was no one’s fault but his own stupidity and his blind desperation to be free from his father. 

“Everyone out.”

Lady Luck— Rosaline— continued smiling up at him as his advisors scurried out of the room. A suffocating silence surrounded them as the door swung shut, leaving him completely alone with her. She seemed quite content to let him drown in the silence, her hands clasped casually in front of her as if nothing was amiss.

“Are you a spy then?” Dispensing with formalities seemed the best path forward. Rosaline could already damn him if she so desired, there was no point in hiding from their bargain. 

“I thought you were supposed to be intelligent, my lord.” The arrogance made his blood boil. “My father has spent the past few years keeping the news of my disappearance quiet but make no mistake, I left Montesere of my own free will. I assume his spies will be sending letters to him as we speak of my reappearance.”

A runaway princess. A runaway princess who he had promised a court position to. A runaway princess who had killed the former high lord at his request. Eris was tangled in this web she had woven for him and based upon her self-satisfied smirk she had him exactly where she wanted.

“Are you trying to start a war?” He let the condescension drip from his words, his only armor against this female. 

Her eyes left him, scanning the room with a casual indifference; like her presence in his court was not causing an insurmountable political problem for him. “I quite like it here. I’ve seen the other courts in Prythian and they’re not quite up to my standards. It’s not my intention to start a war, but it is of course up to your discretion.”

Stupid sly female. She was out playing him at his own game, dragging him deeper and deeper into her web and it was only his own stupidity to blame.

Exhaustion had burrowed itself deep in his bones. It was mere weeks since he’d become High Lord and every moment since had been spent putting out fires. Eris was so tired of everything. “Just tell me what you want and be done with it.”

“If you want to avoid a war, your best move is to marry me.” She said it so matter of factly, like she was telling him the weather or the time of day. “My father has been trying to marry me off for a century now, I’m sure he wouldn’t oppose a union with the Autumn Court.”

Marriage. The word echoed in his mind, bringing with it all of the awful memories of his parents; of the terrible end of his last engagement, of watching his father kill Lucien’s lover in this very room. Eris had never been foolish enough to think he’d have the opportunity to marry for love, but he had had the idiotic belief that he might have a choice in the matter. Marriage or war.

A soft pop and suddenly there was a letter in his hand. Burgundy wax with the impression of a bursting heart secured the thick beige paper. The seal of the King of Montesere looked rather simplistic and non threatening here. It made the complex embroidery on Rosaline’s dress look gorey by comparison.

“Marriage or war.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The wedding had been quick. A grand affair, to be sure, filled with days of celebration and plying his advisors and the nobility with alcohol and carefully painted smiles. A week after the King of Montesere had threatened him for harboring his daughter, Eris and Rosaline had tied their hands together in front of a priestess and made vows to the mother to be faithful to one another. 

A vow, he thought, was so worthless compared to a bargain. An empty promise with no consequences for violating. So meaningless compared to the bargain that wrapped around his arm, branding him a fool. 

Then there had been more drinking and more dancing and very few words exchanged between himself and his new wife before finally they were allowed to retire. 

“Separate rooms, how thoughtful of you,” Rosaline had laughed when he pushed open the door to their chambers. 

He ignored her, striding across the room and removing the cork from a bottle of wine unceremoniously. Eris didn’t offer to pour her a glass, a small childish protest that didn’t actually make him any less annoyed.

As he went to put the bottle back down, he just barely knocked the bottom of it against the table. It slipped from between his fingers and as he reached with his other hand to catch it, the freshly poured glass spilled down the front of his jacket. Shattered glass and blood red wine soaked the rug and his clothes as he turned to glare at his wife.

“Bit of bad luck?” Her lips were pulled down in mock sympathy as she pulled the jeweled pins from her elaborate hairstyle. 

Eris wanted to strangle her, but he forced himself to take a slow measured breath. It was just wine, it was fine. He was stuck with her, he couldn’t kill her, he needed to make do. “So it’s true then? It’s just luck?” The implication was clear in his voice. It was just luck. He’d made a stupid bargain with her and all she’d done is turn his father’s luck bad. Something so small, so irrelevant, as to be meaningless. She was no master assassin or brilliant schemer. She’d simply turned Beron’s luck bad and been lucky that he died.

Rosaline raised an eyebrow at him as she pulled the last of her hair down. He had the fleeting thought that he liked the way her hair looked when it was down; the way all of those small braids framed her face. “And you just make fire,” she bit back at him.

This time he felt it when she used her magic. Tiny sparks of electricity seemed to fill the room as she tossed the handful of jewel encrusted pins towards a bowl on the coffee table. They all clattered as they hit the table, dinging as they hit the polished wood and the candles. Two landed directly in the bowl, but he watched with fascination as the other pins bounced off of the table and into the bowl. It wasn’t an impossible feat, but it was very very lucky. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“Why me?”

The two of them were sitting in the living area that connected their bedchambers. It was a rare period of amiable silence as they read their respective books and the fire crackled quietly before them. Most of their time was dedicated to avoiding each other or attending important events with carefully constructed masks of cordial collaboration.

Rosaline looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’m not a mind reader; elaborate.”

Pages rustled as Eris shoved a report between the pages of his book to mark his place “Why marry me? Why not just continue on as Lady Luck?” He ran a hand through his hair, the neatly combed strands falling into disarray. “Clearly you were capable of staying hidden from your father’s spies, so why force me into this marriage? Is it power that you want?”

Rosaline wasn’t exactly sure what she’d expected him to ask, but she hadn’t expected curiosity about her. They’d spent the weeks since their wedding avoiding each other, content to live their separate lives in a shared home. She’d had an unspoken edge over him since he made that stupid bargain with her, but giving him even a glimpse of her true self felt dangerous. Like she was gambling instead of pulling his strings.

“Why is your brother so unhappy that he resorts to living with humans?” Eris bristled at the mention of Lucien, but she pressed on, “Isn’t it better to ensure I have a husband who owes me something, rather than be offered up as a trophy? Marry someone my father approved of or spend my life running. After five years of hiding I was already sick of it.”

She shrugged, opening her book again to signal the end of their brief conversation.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Six months into their strange and strained marriage, and Eris still didn’t think he was used to living with Rosaline. 

She was a fickle creature, clearly raised around wealth like him and more than willing to let her flights of fancy carry her throughout the day. Work was something that happened sporadically for her whenever the mood struck. He might sit down for the usual silent dinner only to be informed that she was busy writing budget proposals for a public works project one of the other noble ladies had mentioned to her.

The worst was at night. Often he would wake in the middle of the night, visions of flames and whips and his father’s face dragging him forcefully from his sleep; only to find her toiling away on some pet project of hers in the sitting area. His shame about the nightmares the only thing preventing him from walking past her to the liquor cabinet to chase away his demons.

This night, however, had been worse than usual. Eris swore he could feel the charred skin on his back even as he wiped the sweat from his brow and looked in the mirror. This night, he didn’t bother being ashamed as he strode into the brightness of the sitting area.

“I don’t recommend that.”

Mother above, the last thing he wanted to hear was her voice when he was already about to try and claw his skin off.

“What?” He snapped, turning his ire on her; the whiskey forgotten for now.

Rosaline’s braids were tied back loosely with a silk ribbon. It matched the crimson fabric of her short nightgown, the scalloped edges highlighting just how much of her smooth dark skin was uncovered and glowing beneath the candlelight. 

“If your only solution to your nightmares is drinking, you’re going to become dependent on it.” Fire sang in his veins as he watched her make a note in the margin of whatever she was reading. How dare she assume she knew better than him? She was just a strange female from the continent who knew nothing about him.

“How dare you—”

Rosaline managed to cut him off with nothing more than a look, her bloodshot eyes cutting through the panic and anger that had burnt away all of his logic and reason. “Maybe if you didn’t do this same routine a dozen times a month I would be able to finally get a good night’s rest.” Her gaze softened somewhat before she turned back to her work, “Go back to bed, High Lord.” 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“I still think it’s ridiculous that Lord Rothwaine thinks he has any leverage in the negotiations,” Rosaline rolled her eyes as they walked back towards their rooms. “The border with the Winter Court is the least productive part of the entire court. Perhaps he might have more bargaining power if his region had a larger population, or even any useful exports, but as it stands he’s simply insulting you by assuming he even has a leg to stand on.”

Eris shook his head, a half smile tugging at his lips. “They’re all like that, when will you stop being shocked by their arrogance?” In truth, he had come to enjoy these spirited rants from her. It had taken time, and time, and yet more time, but slowly the two of them had developed something close to a friendship. “I don’t understand why you continue torturing yourself with these meetings when you have no desire in helping with the tariff adjustments.”

“What would you have me do instead? Embroider you more handkerchiefs?” She tossed her hair, letting the braids smack against his arm to illustrate how annoying she found his question. “If you weren’t so uptight you might let me actually help you and then we wouldn’t both have to show up to hear Lord Rothwaine prattle on about how lowering our tariff on Summer Court wheat will drive us to ruin.”

Eris held the door to their rooms open, raising an eyebrow at her. “I told you you were free to do as you wished.”

“My apologies for assuming do as I wish didn’t mean governing your court.” She tossed her crown and Eris didn’t even bother to look, knowing after a year that it would land or bounce somewhere safely. He had married a lucky female, after all. “Besides, what’s the point in me doing anything if you’re just going to do it again? You get upset when I move your paperwork, I can’t imagine what you’d do if I started doing it for you.”

“Tell me what you want to do and I’ll set it aside then. You’re more than competent, I trust you to do it without me needing to check it.” He tossed his jacket, aiming for the back of a chair and rolling his eyes when it slid and folded itself perfectly in the seat. 

In recent months he’d noticed Rosaline’s magic had begun affecting him as well. Only when she was nearby, of course, but it was like he’d been infected by it. Lost items were always found quickly, dropped glasses bounced harmlessly off of pillows, rings snagged on dresses never ripped them. It was a strange thing to get used to, this sudden surge of good luck.

Silence stretched and he looked up from his cufflinks to see Rosaline giving him a look he couldn’t quite parse. Her eyes seemed to be searching him for… something, he didn’t know what. Worn lipstick stained her lips an uneven crimson and his eyes snagged on them as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. 

Eris wondered why he so rarely considered what she looked like. Most days she was just Rosaline. Wife was simply a formal title they used. Friend was closer, but it didn’t truly encompass the way they’d intertwined their lives together in the past year and change. He rarely considered what she looked like because he rarely considered what he himself looked like beyond just presentable. 

He let himself look at her. Long braids reached almost to her waist, a dark brown that shone reddish next to the roaring fire. Her dark brown skin that always looked so lovely in the reds and oranges of his court, as if she had been made to live amongst the maple trees that filled the forest outside. And her eyes; a brown so rich and deep that to compare them to any one thing would be doing them a disservice. A brown that managed to hold every color inside itself and reflect such shining light that it was a miracle Eris had spent the past year looking anywhere else. 

It felt like a bowstring being pulled taut, stretching between two points before finally settling into place. It felt like the last brick of a shimmering gold bridge finally being laid down. It felt like stumbling through the darkness and feeling a warm hand wrap around his own. 

“Am I an idiot?” The words came out so quickly, without him meaning to speak at all.

Rosaline let out a laugh, so quick and loud that she put her hand over her mouth like she could force it back in. She glanced away from him, but it was clear she was just trying to hide the fact that she still wanted to laugh at him.

One moment he was behind the couch taking off his cufflinks and the next he was standing before her, gently taking one of her hands in his own and pressing it to his chest. There would be time later for him to think through all of the fears he harbored, the terror and horror that came with having his soul tied to another. But for now, the rhapsodic joy he felt at this revelation was overpowering even his anxieties. 

“How long have you known?”

A manicured eyebrow raised, a perfect imitation of an expression he wore so often, but it couldn’t hide the devilish grin that tugged at her lips. “Let’s just say it was a lucky guess.”

fun fun, another longer authors note down here at the end. i'm a bit annoyed at myself, i got halfway through this and realized that the way i was writing it it was going to need to be about 3x the length it is rn. but c'est la vie, i have work tomorrow and so i cut it down a bunch so i could get it finished before i had to sleep. so it is very unedited, but hey! i'll probably revisit this in a few weeks to add in everything i cut so the ending feels more satisfying and the time-skips feel less jumpy. anyways, not how i wanted to start eris week but i'm so happy nonetheless <33

[mylittlerainbow10]

Angel devil x reader

Just some slight fluff and a bit of angst. 😈

( No like literally the slight angst is literally one sentence😐)

Angel's asked multiple times if your suicidal, dumb or just crazy. And every time you just avoid the question with a compliment towards him, most of the time it's about his hair. However its not just the fact you've finally answered his question that makes his mouth hang slightly open, a slight blush rise to his face and makes him stop in his tracks. No, its rather what your answer was.

You've never been scared of touching Angel's skin. No quite the opposite, it always seems like your deliberately trying to touch him. Your always holding and leaning onto his arm( thats thankfully always covered with his blazer or shirt), running your hand through his hair oh so close to his scalp, holding onto his blazers cuff when you drag him to a convience store for ice cream late at night after a fight with a devil (that you fought yourself) before he can even ask. 'Your suicidal' he thinks, but the way you always push yourself to a better devil hunter, to gain respect and to make a name for youself, the dreams of your future you always ramble to him because he never puts much effort to make conversation, he knows your not. So a common nickname he's called you would always be "idiot".

Currently Your arms are wrapped around his neck, body leaning against his and breath tickling his ear. "No, just very much in love".

He says nothing but neither verbally denys nor accepts your confession and it seems you fail to see his expression as you would've surely teased him about how pretty he looks when blushing.

You continue on, " I know it'll be impossible for you to love me, you a devil and me a human but I don't care. I'll always love you. I just wanted you to know so i dont end up telling you on my deathbed." With your words hanging in the air, you gently plant a kiss on his cheek, hold onto his cuff and drag him along to the new missions location.

[weezerfan123]

do u have any songs u associate with sweet dirt maychance ? i am making a playlist n i would luv to hear recs from madam sweet dirt herself thank u 💖🧡

Omg I’m so honored to be called madam sweet dirt!! Yes I have a whole playlist,, ⬇️

Here’s all the songs, accompanied by some lyrics that are Sweet Dirt to me…! ^_^

I REALLY REALLY love music and lyrics and analyzing them and attaching them to characters… so this is a long list… not sorry!

Dirty Town - Mother Mother

“Yeah, I pinched my pennies and I put 'em down

And I washed my hands of a dirty town”

“My lady friend, oh, she don't need to pretend

She country

She cracks the crack of dawn with her crackin' whip”

Dig - Incubus

“We all have something that digs at us

At least we dig each other

So when weakness turns my ego up

I know you'll count on the me from yesterday”

Shutup You’re Stupid - That Handsome Devil

“Shut up, you're stupid

Just hold my frigging hand (hold my frigging hand)

Shut up, you're stupid, just kiss me

Shut up, you're stupid, just be my frigging man”

Skate - Silk Sonic

“I can smell your sweet perfume

Mmm, you smell better than a barbecue

Oh, superstar is what you are

I'm your biggest fan

If you're lookin' for a man, Sugar, here I am”

There’d Better Be A Mirrorball - Arctic Monkeys

“Don't get emotional, that ain't like you

Yesterday's still leaking through the roof

That's nothing new

I know I promised this is what I wouldn't do

Somehow giving it the old romantic fool

Seems to better suit the mood”

Mama Told Me Not To Come - Tom Jones

“Open up the window, let some air into this room

I think I'm almost chokin' from the smell of stale perfume

And that cigarette you're smokin' 'bout scare me half to death

Open up the window, sucker, let me catch my breath”

“The radio is blastin', someone's knockin' at the door

I'm lookin' at my girlfriend, she's passed out on the floor

I seen so many things I ain't never seen before

Don't know what it is, I don't wanna see no more”

Punk Rock Girl - The Dead Milkmen

“We went to the Philly Pizza Company

And ordered some hot tea

The waitress said, "Well, no

We only have it iced"

So, we jumped up on the table

And shouted, "Anarchy!"”

“We went to a shopping mall

And laughed at all the shoppers

And security guards trailed us

To a record shop”

“We got into a car

Away we started rollin'

I said, "How much you pay for this?"

She said, "Nothing, man, it's stolen"”

Shiver - Maroon 5

“You build me up, you knock me down

Provoke a smile, then make me frown

You are the queen of run-around

You know it's true

You chew me up and spit me out

Enjoy the taste I leave in your mouth

You look at me, I look at you

Neither of us know what to do”

Fire Water Burn - Bloodhound Gang

“I'm the root of all that's evil, yea, but you can call me Cookie”

I Will Buy You a New Life - Everclear

“I hate those people who love to tell you

Money is the root of all that kills

They have never been poor

No, they've never known the joy of a welfare Christmas”

“They might make you think you're happy

Yeah, maybe for a minute or two

They can't make you laugh

No, they can't make you feel the way that I do

I will buy you a garden

Where your flowers can bloom

I will buy you a new car

Perfect, shiny and new

I will buy you that big house

Way up in the West Hills

I will buy you a new life”

Trailer Trash - Modest Mouse

“Live in trailers with no class

Goddamn, I hope I can pass

High school means nothing

Taking heartache with hard work

Goddamn, I am such a jerk

I can't do anything”

Little Pistol - Mother Mother

“Up on my side, where it is felt

I pack a little pistol on my pistol belt

I think it might be fear

Of the world and the way it makes you feel afraid”

Harvest Moon - Phoenix Moon

“Come a little bit closer

Hear what I have to say

Just like children sleepin'

We could dream this night away”

“When we were strangers

I watched you from afar

When we were lovers

I loved you with all my heart

But now it's gettin' late

And the moon is climbin' high

I want to celebrate

See it shinin' in your eye”

The Moon - The Microphones

“And we went all the way up to the small town where I'm from

With foggy air and the wind and the mountain tops

And we clung to rocks and we looked off

You held my hand, you almost got to start feeling me

I finally felt like I was breathing free

And under swaying trees, we fell asleep and had the same dream”

Curl up & Die - Matt Maltese

“There was a time

When I worshipped the ground you walked on

There was a time

When I'd cut off my ear for you

There was a time

When I worshipped the towel you dried on

There was a time

When I'd kill all my friends for you

You're the only one

Makes me wanna cry

You're the only one

Makes me wanna beat up inside

You're the only one

Makes me feel alive

You're the only one

Makes me wanna go home and

Curl up and die”

“I was just the tag on your shoes

(Curl up and die)

And I liked being that

(Curl up and die)

I was just the germs in your flu

(Curl up and die)

And I liked being that

I was just the chip on your tooth

And I liked being that

I was just the me to your you

And I liked being that”

Street Carp - Deftones

“It's not that I care (truly)

But you're that girl (with sharp teeth)

Who grabs at the walls (and pulls me down)”

Little Boxes - Pete Seeger

Basically all of the lyrics to this song,, I associate it with Sweet Dirt because I have this headcanon that Scott is hates the government/the system/society etc.,

This also reminds me of them bc they wouldn’t want a typical “ticky-tacky” life together

Loving Machine - TV Girl

Also literally just this whole song. I think it’s really sweet. To me it’s about Sugar befriending Scott when he’s in the trauma chair. I think Scott would appreciate having her by his side through his recovery because she wouldn’t pity him or baby him at all.. I’ll write a fic abt this au someday.. I promise..

Freaking Out - Death

Idk why this one is on here,, them when they freak out i guess LMFOA I just like this song

Somethin’ Stupid - Frank & Nancy Sinatra

“The time is right, your perfume fills my head

The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue

And then I go and spoil it all

By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"”

“I can see it in your eyes

That you despise the same old lies

You heard the night before

And though it's just a line to you

For me it's true

And never seemed so right before”

Passionfruit - Drake

“Listen

Seeing you got ritualistic

Cleansin' my soul of addiction for now

'Cause I'm fallin' apart

Yeah, tension

Between us just like picket fences

You got issues that I won't mention for now

'Cause we're fallin' apart”

Everlong - Foo Fighters

“Tonight, I throw myself into

And out of the red

Out of her head, she sang

Come down and waste away with me

Down with me

Slow, how you wanted it to be

I'm over my head

Out of her head, she sang”

“Breathe out

So I can breathe you in

Hold you in

And now

I know you've always been

Out of your head

Out of my head, I sang”

P.U.N.K. Girl - Heavenly

“P is for the painful way she makes me feel some day

U is for Utopia, the other times with her

N is for the new wave dreams she had back in her teens

K is for the kid in her, my PUNK girl

She is honest and kind but in a way that people see

As telling lies and being mean

She has thousands of dreams but what they are I'll never know

I hope I figure in them though

I don't care if they can't see

Just how great that girl can be

But I wish, she'd find a way To act well, for just one day”

Take Me by the Hand - Flamingos in the Tree

“Dancing slow

While my heart beats fast

Should I tell you how

I've escaped my past

Take me by the hand back to your place

Show me how to dance and we'll embrace

Take me by the hand back to your place

Show me how to dance”

“Hold me close with your hand in mine

Let me be the one that you keep in mind

When you're laying there staring at the ceiling

And you need someone too”

[thatninjacat27]

The Beginning Of The End (at least for Sonic): chapter 2(it wasn’t planned but it happened)

-still part 1 of series

(ao3 link and below is the same)

Text

“Alright, Tails. I’m going.”, Sonic said as he headed out of the front door. It was midday already. The hero had overslept because he couldn’t find a way to sleep after the encounter with that Shadow doppelgänger.

When Tails mentioned how late he had woken up, Sonic just said it was because of how long he stayed up at night. He wasn’t ready to tell Tails the real reason why he overslept.

“Okay, Sonic. See you later!”, Tails yelled out at the end as Sonic sped off into the woods. The woods were a peaceful place to be. It was relaxing, spacious, and it was nice all around. Sonic was heading towards a specific small clearing that a select few knew about. It was a designated sparring area.

‘Maybe Shadow will be there.’, Sonic thought. His rival always seemed to know when he was doing/had done something dangerous. And that deal he made with that crystal handed guy was definitely up that alley in Sonic’s book. ‘I wonder if he knows something about that Mephiles guy.’

Then Sonic makes a very sharp turn causing him to slam into someone. He falls to the ground landing on his back and the person he bumped into was still standing tall like a mountain.

“Oww. Chaos, it’s like I hit a brick wall.”, Sonic said as he rubbed his face with his hand. “Shadow, is that you? Are you ok?”

“I am not Shadow.”, the person said. His voice was felt cold as ice. It didn’t sound quite like Shadow but it was very close. 

“Huh?”, the blue hedgehog said and removed the hand covering his face. “Well speak of the devil.” Mephiles raised an eyebrow confused.

“Never mind.”, Sonic dismissed. He got up from the ground and dusted himself off. “It’s you again.”

“Hello Sonic.”, Mephiles said unfeeling. He made no moves to do or say anything else. It left a very long pause. Which was making Sonic uncomfortable. 

“Hi?” Sonic said unsure. He didn’t know what was going to happen because the other hedgehog didn’t give any hints with his expression or body language. It felt like an awkward situation where the person was confidently oblivious and did nothing. 

“We have a lot work to do.”, the demigod continued in the same calm tone as when he said hello. 

“Yeah about that. Yesterday I know I agreed to help with your plans,”, Sonic turned to face the side. “because you coerced me,”, he said under his breath before turning back and continuing at normal volume.”but you never really gave me any specifics on how that was going to work.”

”Your job is pretty simple. You work for me. You can keep up with your “hero” duties as I will probably require you to use your position to acquire me some things but,” Mephiles’s whole body transforms into a crystallized form. “When I ask you to do something, you better do it. When I call you, you better drop everything and run to me.” He moved in closer to the blue hedgehog.

”Understand?”, Mephiles said as he extended his crystallized claws ever so slightly towards Sonic. It really wasn’t a question but a threat.

Sonic gulped before he spoke, still looking at the sharp claws. “Crystal.”

“Good.”, the doppelgänger became visibly less threatening towards the blue hedgehog. “We are going to do great things you and I.”, he said as he put both hands on each of the hero’s shoulders and shook a little. His claws dug in a little bit and made Sonic still. That was going to leave a mark as he was now slightly bleeding. Mephiles then let go of him and walked back a couple feet. 

“Now if there are no more questions, get into a fight stance. We are starting the training. I need to tests some things.”

[matthewtkachuk]

you can hear it in the silence - ryan graves

Four times you think Ryan might love you, and one time you know he does

pairing: ryan graves x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, a little angst if you squint, slight reference to cheesy romance novels - don't come for me for referring to romeo & juliet ok

word count: 2.5k

a/n: sorry this is a little bit late - i went to toronto, got covid, and then moved right at the end of the month and i'm a poor planner 3 @gravestrain i hope you love this!!! thank you as always to @antoineroussel for not only hosting this thing and letting me borrow stef whilst giving her an americanized name and the happy ending she deserves but also doing her damnedest to fix my grammar issues (you will have to pry my run on sentences and epithets out of my cold dead hands). special shout out to @danglesnipecelly for helping me pick a name for this bad boy and to @ryngrvs and @hotanddistraught for tryin' to help me put it into words. title and inspo is of course from the cult classic "you are in love" by taylor swift

one: one look, dark room / meant just for you 

Ryan’s a friend. 

The first one you made upon your arrival in Jersey to be precise, and one who very quickly became your favorite of them all. Nico’s got good eyebrows and Jack has a sly smile and PK is always down for anything and Nate and Mikey are clearly in love—but Ryan’s easily your favorite. It’s a world you’d never belonged in before and yet one that you slip into without much difficulty. 

It starts with an invitation to sit with Nico’s girlfriend at the season opener and turns into a standing date that you only miss if you absolutely have to. The girls are fun, Steph most of all, but the other girlfriends and wives welcome you into the fray even though you hold neither title. You make it three games before Jack’s daring you to wear his jersey. Steph thinks it’s funny and Nico looks at you like he might know something you don’t, but then Ryan’s offering you his instead and you’d be lying if your traitorous heart didn’t wonder if it meant something more than friends.

You wonder that a lot, actually. 

Wonder if it’s just Ryan’s polite, Canadian nature that has him holding doors open for you and asking that you text him when you get home safe after a night out; wonder if it’s just something Ryan does, the way he memorizes your Starbucks order and knows your favorite ice cream and the exact right toppings to put on pizza; wonder if Ryan exchanges looks with anyone else—all raised eyebrows and laugh lines and upturned mouths.

The looks are secret, special. A million different words and thoughts and communications pass in a single glance meant only for you. When Jack’s being an idiot, when Steph and Nico are too cute, when you miss your drink with your mouth and end up with a barely noticeable stain on your shirt. They say things like: “are you overwhelmed? Do you want to leave?”, “are you feeling alright?”, “when was the last time you ate?”

Tonight the look is shared from across Nico and Steph’s living room. You’re being cornered by a guy who introduced himself as “The Devils Captain’s Future Cousin-In-Law” and who hasn’t shut up about the ACL injury that “kept him from going pro, but he totally could have.” You’re not entirely sure that cousin-in-law is a legal distinction, and you’ve met plenty of might-have-been pros trying to keep up with actual professional athletes, and so nothing leaving his lips is of any particular value or interest to you.

Scanning the crowd, you look for any reason or excuse to vacate the conversation, trying and failing to catch someone’s eye until Ryan looks up. He reads the distress call and rises to the occasion valiantly, all but pushing Steph’s cousin to the side in his over the top greeting to you. 

The aforementioned not-quite-major-leaguer grumbles, but quickly realizes he’s no match for the large defenceman, disappearing back into the crowd to probably find someone else to bother. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out a sigh of relief. 

“Anything for you,” is all he says before dragging you to the kitchen to make you another drink because you ‘definitely deserve one.’

“Steph, your cousin is fucking annoying,” you tell her later that night.

You fear it’s the wrong thing to say, are prepared to backtrack immediately at her shocked, silent face, but then she’s laughing. “Yeah, I know. I was going to go save you, but someone else beat me to it.” She motions toward where Ryan is standing across the dark room. You hiss and grip her wrist to get her to stop pointing, but there’s no use—half the team has looked over at your little commotion. It doesn’t matter anyway, though. 

Ryan’s eyes are only on you.

two: small talk, he drives / coffee at midnight

you: you up?

ryan: Is this a booty call?

you: *eyeroll emoji*

you: no, idiot. I can’t sleep 

ryan: Wanna go for a drive?

Fifteen minutes later you’re slipping into Ryan’s car in your favorite pajamas and an old hoodie. 

“Cute,” he chuckles, tugging on your flannel bottoms before you slap his hand away. 

“You’re one to talk,” you counter, lunging across the console to ruffle his messy hair he’s pulled back with a familiar looking scrunchie. “Is that my hair tie?” 

Ryan pauses mid laugh like he’s been caught red handed in a bank vault with a ski mask. A light blush coats his cheek and he reaches back as if to pull his hair done. “Uh, yeah. Did you want it back?”

A warm feeling fills your belly as you sit back in your seat, shaking your head. “Nah, keep it.”

He flashes that awkward grin at you and motions for you to put on your seatbelt before he puts the car into drive. He takes several twists and turns that you don’t recognize in the midnight darkness, each street sign and traffic light blurring into the next. 

“So where are we going?” You ask a few minutes later, fiddling nervously with the radio station, never letting a song play in its entirety as you search for something you don’t even know you’re searching for.

“I know a place.”

‘A place’ turns out to be a Dunkin’ Donuts beside a McDonalds and you laugh out loud when he turns into the first drive through. 

“You don’t like it?” he asks.

“I love it!”

He doesn’t even need to ask your order at either place and he certainly doesn’t take your offered wallet, just smiles at you and tells you that you can get it ‘next time.’

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” you tell him in a semi-sarcastic, overly-polite tone to mask the fact that this is one of the sweetest dates you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a date. Or, at least you don’t think it’s a date. 

The heated look in Ryan’s eyes when they quickly slide over to look at you in the passenger seat have you wondering otherwise. “Did you really think it was over?”

Twenty minutes later sees Ryan pulling over on a random dirt road outside of the city.

“Star gazing?” you ask, unable to keep the hope or the excitement out of your voice. 

He pulls a blanket out of the back seat and hops out. “C’mon.”

It’s now officially the most romantic date you’ve ever been on, cold McDonalds fries and watered down iced coffees between you be damned. 

“Look up!” He points to a shooting star blazing across the night sky. You do, your shoulders brushing against his and the moonlight glinting off the small pendant around your neck. 

He doesn’t kiss you that night, but you feel a fundamental shift in the energy of your friendship from there on out.

three: morning, his place / burnt toast, sunday

Burnt toast is a sign of a stroke, right? You wake up with a killer hangover and the aforementioned offensive smell. It’s undercut by what you hope is the strongest coffee known to man, and ultimately the promise of a caffeine fix is what gets you out of bed. There’s whistling too, you realize as you approach the kitchen, and it’s not until that whistle stops mid-note with Ryan’s shocked face that you look down at what you’re wearing. 

It’s an entirely-too-long-for-you red Devils shirt with 33 on the top right corner and you can only assume the number rests on your back too alongside his last name. It’s really not that different from the jersey you wear to every game and yet it’s completely different. More intimate somehow, despite the design being quite similar. The way his Adam's apple bobs alongside his suspended hand holding a bright yellow spatula tells you that you’re not alone in your thoughts. 

“What are you burning?” you finally break the tension with a joke. His shoulders relax before he spins back to the pan of slightly burnt eggs.

He drawls sarcastically, “It was supposed to be breakfast.”

The air crackles between the two of you as you eat silently side by side at the kitchen island save for the occasional “can you pass me that?” and “thank you.” You’re lost in thought, but so is he, contemplation written clearly across his face for you to read.

After breakfast, you put your jeans from last night back on, but you don’t change into the sparkly little top you were wearing, preferring the comforting cotton of the fanatics branded t-shirt. Ryan notices, if the way his eyes linger on the number at your shoulder is any indication. It sends a little thrill through you and reminds you of all the times you caught him looking a second longer and a touch heavier than just a friend would do. 

“I would stay for a second course of your lovely cooking,” you state with sarcasm dripping from your tongue, “but I should get home. I have a very important date.” As his eyebrows raise up toward his hairline, you find yourself stumbling over an addendum, “Uh, with my couch I mean. And Netflix. All alone.”

“Good,” he says quickly, before backtracking. “I mean, sounds good.”

When you smile at him, he relaxes but the tension doesn’t fade between you as he walks you to the door like the gentleman he is.

The kiss he presses to your cheek, right near the corner of your mouth is less gentlemanly.

“Text me when you get home safe.”

four: you kiss on sidewalks / you fight, and you talk

“Are you mad at me?” 

It’s the entirely wrong thing to say to your friend of six months turned… whatever it was you two were to each other. His shoulders are tight and there’s a stormy look overtaking his features.

“Am I mad at you?” Ryan is animated and incredulous in a way you’ve never really seen him off the ice. The fire in his eyes is one you’ve only ever witnessed right before laying a heavy check… or right after taking one from the opposition.

“Yes, are you mad at me?” Unfortunately, you’re the doubling down type 

“I am mad. And disappointed. And… and feeling pretty stupid right now!” He advances on you, but there’s nothing aggressive about his stride, even with the way his six foot five frame towers over you. It’s not aggression, but it is passion and there’s a wild frenzy about his actions. 

“Stupid? Ryan?” Your voice is so much smaller than it normally is, the dark tempest of your disposition tamed by your uncertainty in the moment.

“I lo-like you, okay?” He seems to catch himself, but you can almost hear the unsaid four letter word between you. There’s no time to dwell on it or to respond to the revelation, not with the way he slows his movements to step tentatively into your space, hands reaching for your hips and head inclining down towards yours. “As more than a friend or whatever we are. I think about you all the time. And you don’t have to feel the same, but it kills me to think of you going out on a date with some other guy.”

You’re at a loss for words—the combination of his close proximity and his unexpected confession has your brain all but short circuiting. Slowly, you speak. “I don’t want to date anyone else.”

“You don't?”

“Steph and Meg were just bugging me back there. They think it’s funny to poke fun at my lack of a dating life. Besides, everyone knows it’s you I’m crazy about,” you admit quietly. 

And just like that, right there on the sidewalk outside the team’s favorite bar, Ryan kisses you for the first time.

plus one: you’re my best friend

A road trip has Ryan getting in late. 

He’d told you that they’d had to wait for some bad weather to clear before taking off from the West coast and had offered to go back to his own apartment to let you get your rest, but you’d solidly turned that down. Besides, you were at his apartment anyway—his salary means he can afford the nicer things in life and that includes the most comfortable king size mattress you’ve ever laid upon.

You don’t regret your decision one bit. Not even when he flicks the light on in his bedroom approximately four seconds after getting in before softly apologizing and turning it back off. Not even when he stubs his toe on the dresser in the dark, a sharp curse escaping his lips without any fight. You don’t regret your decision, because after the minor interruption to your REM sleep, he’s slipping into bed next to you and pulling you close. After a long week apart, you welcome the feel of him around you and slip back into a peaceful slumber.

It could be only minutes later or several days—you sleep so peacefully when Ryan is near—when you’re woken up by the rustling of sheets and the cold absence of your boyfriend beside you. He’s sitting up in bed with the strangest look on his face. A mix of confusion and acceptance and peace alongside something else.

“Are you okay, Ry?” you ask with sleep heavy on your eyelids and weighing down your tongue. 

He doesn’t acknowledge you at first, so lost in the heavy weight of his own thoughts that you softly call his name again. This time, he turns toward you and speaks only a single phrase: “You’re my best friend.”

A single, simple phrase and yet, you knew.

He is in love and you are in love and you are in love with each other. 

Always a hopeless romantic, you’d devour cheesy romance novels as a young teenager, read thousands of books where the main characters risked everything for love. You’d always loved reading the dynamic, but you’d never understood it, not really. Not until now.

Not until your boyfriend all but declares it in the sanctity of your dark bedroom on an ordinary night just like any other. 

You understand it now, why Darcy bettered himself for Elizabeth, why Noah never gave up on Allie, even why Romeo and Juliet did what they did—even if it could have been solved with a bit of communication and maturity that two sixteen year olds were clearly lacking.

‘I love you’ is a phrase you’ve uttered millions of times in your life, but no I love you ever meant as much as Ryan’s quiet admission. 

“You’re my best friend,” you echo before pulling him in and kissing the sweet smile off his face.

[bestofbucky]

The Man With A Plan. (Stucky x reader)

Pairings: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Steve x reader x Bucky.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, smut, threesome, swearing, little bit of sub/dom, praise kink, captain/sergeant kink, some fluffiness at the end.

A/N: This is my first time writing smut so pls be nice! Obviously I had to start with Stucky :) where else would I start? Didn’t expect it to be this long but oh well!

THANK YOU SO MUCH @buckyownsmylife I wouldn’t be posting this without your help! You are incredible and everyone reading this should read her stuff after :)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

You and Bucky have a prank war that’s been going on pretty much ever since the two of you became friends. They were completely harmless pranks, he put flour in your hairdryer, you filled the floor of his room with cups of water, the usual stuff.

Right now, you’re on holiday with all the Avengers and of course, partners and kids, at Tony’s beach mansion in Italy. You had been here for 5 days now and every night Bucky goes for a late night swim, which you only just found out he does naked. He leaves his clothes and a towel on a sunlounger on the shore.

So of course, when you found out, you decided you would steal his stuff when he was in the water so he would have to walk naked through the house. All the adults were in the lounge, after all the kids had gone to bed. You had already stolen Bucky’s stuff and put it in his room so it was just a waiting game until he walked in.

Right on time, the door bursts open and an angry faced Bucky storms into the room, he is using both hands to conceal himself and shuffling sideways like a crab with his backside to the wall. Everyone is in fits of laughter, especially when he reaches the door which is closed and he has to remove one hand in order to open it.

You are chuckling to yourself but struggling to laugh any more than that. The sight of Bucky’s still wet body was stealing all your focus. You watched intently as a droplet rolled down the middle of his chest, over his abs then disappeared behind his hand. You clenched your thighs, shifting in your seat hoping it covered up your movements.

Bucky finally managed to exit the room and everyone was chuckling among themselves. You couldn’t stop thinking about how incredible Bucky had looked. You tried to push the thoughts of him out of your mind, especially because your boyfriend was sitting right next to you.

“I think we should go to bed.” Speak of the devil. Steve had leaned closer to you, his mouth hovering over your ear.

Fuck, you think. He probably saw how you were looking at Bucky and is now really angry with you. To make sure you don’t make him any angrier, you agree. Saying goodnight to everyone you both head up to your room.

Steve immediately heads into the bathroom without saying a word. You start getting changed thinking of how you could make it up to him but your thoughts are soon interrupted by Steve’s voice.

“I think that was your best one so far.” He chuckles and you join, still nervous he might be upset.

“Yeah, the look on his face was definitely worth it.” You joke back as you get into bed. Steve, now just in his boxers, comes and joins you, pulling you onto his lap so you are straddling him.

“I wasn’t looking at his face,” he whispers, making goosebumps rise across your skin. “And I know for a fact, you weren’t either.” His lips attach to your neck causing you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He pulls away. “Do you ever think about Bucky fucking you?��� He asks as his hands make their way underneath your shirt.

“No, of course not. I’m with you.” You say as he starts massaging your boobs.

“I have.” There isn’t a trace of embarrassment in his voice.

“You’ve thought about Bucky fucking me or you?” You tilt your head back as he starts to play with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

“Both. I know what it’s like to be with Buck. I want to know what it’s like to be with you both together.” The thought of Steve and Bucky together makes you grind your hips down onto Steve and you feel him grow hard underneath you.

“You like the thought of me and Bucky?” Steve teases as he nibbles at your neck. “Or was it the thought of all three of us?”

You start to imagine what it would be like with them both. Would Bucky want you to call him Sergeant like Steve has you call him Captain? Who would take the lead, or would it be both of them? You think about being sandwiched between them, their skin rubbing against yours as they take you however they want, using your body for their pleasure.

Suddenly Steve stops everything, his hands come out from underneath your shirt and rest on your hips and he leans back against the headboard, no longer kissing your neck. You frown at him and he simply smirks.

You rock your hips to try to get the friction you need but he holds you still.

“Steve please” You say breathlessly.

“Not tonight, angel. Take it as your punishment for practically drooling over Buck.” He lifts you off him.

“But you just-”

You immediately stop talking when you see his eyes. When he looks at you like that you wouldn’t dare disobey him. So instead, you curl yourself into his side and try hard to get the thoughts of Bucky out of your mind so you can drift off to sleep.

Bucky had a plan to get you back and in his mind it was a good one. Everyone had left for the day to explore Italy but you and Steve told everyone you weren’t feeling up to it and were going to stay at the house. Perfect. Bucky also told everyone he was going to stay behind so now the three of you were lounging around the pool together.

You had started to mumble your words and Bucky could tell you were getting tired. He made sure to stay quiet enough for you to drift off to sleep which you soon did. When you’re breathing evened out he sprung into action.

He went into the kitchen, grabbed a pair of scissors and came back out, he walked over to where you were laying and just as he was about to start cutting he was interrupted by Steve’s voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Although he was trying to be intimidating, he was still whispering so he wouldn’t wake you.

“Getting even.” Bucky stated simply and Steve just shrugged allowing him to continue with whatever it is he wanted to do.

Leaning back over your sleeping body Bucky gently cut the two top straps and the middle strap of your triangle bikini, but didn’t move it. He then went to put the scissors back and grabbed a jug, filling it with ice cold water. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he knew he was going to get you back so good.

He made his way back outside, Steve sat up on his chair and watched eager to see what was about to happen. Bucky pulls his arm back and aims the water at your face and chest.

A surge of cold suddenly hits your body and you gasp as you instinctively stand up. It takes a few moments for you to come to and understand where you are and what just happened. You finally open your eyes and you see Bucky standing in front of you, an empty jug in his hand and a mischievous smirk on his face. The bastard. He must have thrown the ice cold water on you.

You scowl at him, but his smirk quickly fades as his eyes trail down to your chest. Then you notice that you can feel the breeze on your skin and you look down only to discover you are no longer covered by your bikini top. It is in pieces on the floor in front of you.

Before you can act, Steve is behind you, he places a hand on each boob. You don’t know if he is trying to protect you from Bucky’s eyes, hold you back from lunging at him or just using it as an excuse to feel you up. Probably the third one.

“These are for my eyes only.” Steve growls but your mind goes back to the conversation you had with him last night. Bucky just continues laughing, finding the situation hilarious. You smirk at the idea that comes into your head.

“If you wanted to see what's underneath my top, all you had to do was ask.” You place your hands on top of Steve’s and pull them off your body, exposing yourself to Bucky.

His laughter comes to a halt and he bites his lip as his eyes fixate on your chest. He glances behind you at Steve for confirmation which you assume he got because he starts walking towards you.

He stops right in front of you and lifts his hand up, his eyes never leaving yours. His fingers lightly graze over your nipple and you lean forward into his touch but he pulls his hand away and turns his head to Steve before eventually looking back to you.

“Can I see what’s underneath these?” His fingers fiddle with the ties on either side of your bikini bottoms. You nod, allowing him to continue and he pulls at them, still holding eye contact. It comes undone and he lets it fall to the floor.

He places his hands on your hips and guides you backwards until the back of your legs hit a sunlounger, and then gently pushes you down, spreading your legs apart to dangle on either side. His eyes finally leave yours as they trail down your body, sucking in a breath when he sees your pussy.

He looks over at Steve again and you do too. He is sat to the side watching you both as he palms himself through his swim shorts. The sight turns you on even more. You feel Bucky shift so you return your gaze to him. He starts to place wet kisses up your inner thighs, stopping before he gets to the place you want him most.

“Always wanted to taste you.” He looks up at you as he licks up your slit before swirling his tongue around your clit. He presses a cold metal finger into and you gasp, arching your back off the lounger. He sucks on your clit as he pumps in and out of you, adding another finger and curling them just right, to hit your sweet spot. You moan loudly as the pleasure ripples through your body.

“Fuck, doll. Let me hear all those noises you make.” He continues at a steady pace as you start to feel the coil tighten inside you. Your hands find their way into his hair as he sends you over the edge. You cry out, your thighs squeezing his head as he continues through your orgasm.

He finally pulls away as you start to come down. He smiles at you, lips glistening.

“Steve,” Bucky summons Steve over. He kneels next to you and Bucky brings his fingers up to his lips. Steve happily accepts, opening his mouth and sucking your juices off Bucky’s fingers. The sight alone is almost enough to make you orgasm again, especially when you notice both men straining against their swim shorts.

You reach your hand out and slip it into Steve’s shorts, wrapping it around his length, his moan muffled by Bucky’s fingers. You look at Bucky who is already staring at you, he wraps his spare hand around the back off your neck as he pulls you into a heated kiss.

He is more dominating than Steve is but you enjoy the way he takes control. You continue to move your hand up and down Steve’s length and your other hand palms Bucky through his shorts. He sighs into your mouth and you love the feeling of pleasing both men.

All too soon, Bucky is pulling away and releasing his fingers from Steve’s mouth. He walks over to another sunlounger and takes the cushion off, placing it on the floor next to Steve.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” His tone makes you want to do anything he says, so you quickly nod.

“Lie down,” he commands. You lie on the cushion on your back and he kneels over your face. You go to wrap your hand around him but he catches your wrist, stopping you.

He guides himself to your mouth, tapping gently on your lips. You open wide and he pushes in. He is not as thick as Steve but he is longer and you can feel him deeper in your throat.

“Fuck doll. Your mouth feels so good around me,” he moans when he hits the back of your throat.

“Come here Steve.” He holds his cock down your throat and you remind yourself to breathe through your nose. Steve stands in front of Bucky, his legs either side of your head.

You watch as Steve’s cock disappears down Bucky’s throat and you hum, finding it incredibly hot. Bucky starts gently thrusting into your mouth and Steve does the same for Bucky. You don't know what to focus on: your boyfriend’s delicious noises as he moves in and out of his best friend’s mouth, the sight of Bucky’s lips wrapped around Steve’s cock, or the feeling of Bucky’s cock moving in and out of your mouth.

Your moans send vibrations down Bucky’s cock and you feel him twitch slightly as he starts to increase in speed. The noises coming from both you and Bucky are making Steve weak at the knees.

“You’re taking his cock so well angel.” Steve tells you and you clench around nothing at his praise.“Look so good with your lips around his cock.”

It’s not long before Bucky’s thrusts lose their rhythm and he is releasing down your throat. Steve follows shortly after. You and Bucky make sure to swallow everything you have been given.

You know from experience that super soldiers don't need much time before they can go again, but it still surprises you how quickly they can recover.

You are still lying on your back, a little bit of Bucky’s cum dribbles out your mouth and down your cheek.

“You look so pretty with my cum dripping down your face,” Bucky tells you and again the words go straight to your core. The smirk on his face tells you he knows how you feel about praise. You use your finger to wipe the cum off and then suck it as you hold eye contact with Bucky.

“Such a good girl.” he murmurs.

Steve comes over to you with a glass of water which you happily accept, you take small sips until you have had enough and you pass it back to Steve. He takes a couple of gulps before handing it to Bucky who finishes it off.

“Are you ready for another round, angel?” Steve asks as he gently brushes some hair out of your face. You nod eagerly, excited for what will happen next.

“Yes, Captain.” You correct yourself, knowing Steve likes it when you use your words.

“Fuck.” You expect the expletive to come from Steve as a response to you calling him captain but you are surprised to find out it came from Bucky. You smile knowing exactly what he wants you to call him.

“How do you want me, Sergeant?” It’s like the words flipped a switch in his mind.

“Hands and knees princess,” he tells you and you obey. Bucky takes his place behind you while Steve sits down in front of you, placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

Bucky’s hand comes down on your ass and you gasp in shock. “No kissing unless I tell you to.” You know from this moment on Bucky is in charge and you need to do everything he says and nothing more. The whole situation makes you so wet you can feel it starting to drip down your thigh.

Bucky slides his cold metal fingers through your slick. “Fuck, you’re dripping princess.” His fingers glide over your clit, and you jerk, still a little sensitive. “You like being told what to do? Being used for our pleasure?” He asks as continues to toy with your clit. You nod, too consumed by pleasure to say anything. Bucky’s movements halt and he brings his hand down on your cheek again. You whimper at the contact.

“Use your words.” He growls.

“Yes sergeant.” You see Steve smile at your obedience the same way he always would when training you and your chest swells slightly knowing he is proud of you.

“Good girl.” You feel Bucky guide his tip to your entrance, only pushing himself slightly in, causing your frustrations to grow.

“Please, Sergeant. I need your cock. Please fuck me.” You beg, hoping he will give you the satisfaction you need.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He hisses as he slowly presses all the way in, determined to savour the feeling.

“How does she feel Buck?” Steve asks like you aren’t even there.

“So good, Steve. So hot and wet,” he mumbles and the praise makes you involuntarily clench around him.

“Can I suck your cock, Captain? Please.” You ask and he looks up to Bucky for permission. Seeing Steve second in command is something you never thought you would witness but you are so glad you are.

He rises onto his knees and guides himself into your mouth. The feeling is indescribable, and you become impatient, pushing yourself backwards into Bucky, who simply chuckles. It seems to work though, as they both start to gently thrust in and out, working in tandem with each other.

“Gripping me so tight, doll.”

“Fuck, angel”

“Feel so good”

“Doing so well.”

Their voices start to merge into each other as your body is taken over by pleasure. Their thrusts start to become sloppy and uneven as they each use your body to chase their release. You can feel the pressure building in your stomach as Bucky snakes his hand around and circles your clit with his fingers.

It’s not long till Steve is thrusting one last time deep into your throat, grunting as he releases into your mouth. The noises that fall from his lips send you over the edge and you clench down hard around Bucky as you cum on his cock. Bucky is quick to follow as your pussy milks his cock and soon you feel his release coating your walls.

They both ease out of you and you let your body collapse onto the cushion. You try to catch your breath, your mind still dizzy with arousal.

Steve’s fingers make their way into your hair as he gently massages your scalp while Bucky places kisses, starting on your lower back and traveling up your spine to your shoulder.

“You did so well, doll.” Bucky says.

“I’m so proud of you, angel.” Steve tells you as he shuffles around you. A small smile makes its way onto your lips at their praise.

You feel arms wrap around you and you are lifted into the air, you snuggle your head into their neck and breathe in. You can tell it’s Steve from his scent.

“Where are we going?” You mumble.

“We need to get you cleaned up.” He explains and you open your eyes to see Steve is carrying you towards your room.

“Is Bucky coming too?” You ask softly which warms both Steve and Bucky’s hearts.

“Yeah doll. I’m here.” You hear his voice from behind you and sigh happily as your mind replays what just happened. You know from this moment on it’s no longer just you and Steve, it’s all three of you, together.

Permanent Taglist: @vampirewithbedsidemanners @townwitchbitch @velvetcardiganbucky @courtneychicken @band--psycho @tuiccim @lunarmoon8

[peskygirl13]

MK SO-

I just got the Pokémon SWSH DLCs and I was wondering what it would be like for some legendary Pokémon to come to twst and cause some trouble(Legendarys I’d like to do ( you c an pick just one: Kyogre, Giratina, or Groudon)

If you can i want it to be just Diasomina!

This turned out longer than I expected and I got so mad with myself because I was almost done with writing this and I accidently deleted all my new work, so I had to start over from my last save point which is one of the reasons it took so long to post.

I’ve been binge playing the old Sinnoh games and rewatching the anime, so this was fun to write (despite me deleting my work). 

This will have references to the Pokémon Platinum game, so spoilers if you haven’t played the game and plan to. 

Hope you enjoy!

Malleus's favorite time of the day was night time. Night time was the best!

The world was at peace, it was quiet, everything was asleep, save for a few nocturnal creatures much like himself, he could hide from SIlver and Sebek and have some time to himself, and there were no students or humans who would see him and run away in terror.

But his favorite thing about night time was probably when he got to visit his favorite human, (Y/n).

Their situation was a bit odd, having appeared out of nowhere from a world full of creatures called Pokémon, but Malleus didn't care. They weren't afraid of him. After spending a lifetime of having people fear him due to his name, it was a nice change.

Malleus arrived at the Ramshackle dorm to find you already sitting outside, cleaning your Empoleon's feathers.

"Greetings, Child of Man." He greeted, happily walking up to you.

"Hey, Tsunotaro." You smiled, putting down Empoleon's brush to wave at him.

That was another thing Malleus adored about you. Even after finding out who he was, you still didn't fear him and continued calling him by that amusing nickname you gave him.

You both entered the dorm, along with Empoleon, and he was instantly greeted with the rest of your strange creatures. Luxray, Togekiss, Glaceon, Garchomp, and Lucario.

You headed over to the kitchen to make some tea while he got comfortable on the couch. Once he was seated, Garchomp laid its head on Malleus's lap, implying that it wanted scratches.

By the time you had returned with two mugs of steaming tea, all the other Pokémon had already gotten comfortable and most had fallen asleep.

You handed Malleus his mug before sitting down in your chair. Glaceon hopped up and curled up in your lap before falling back asleep.

After you both got comfortable, you began regaling Malleus with stories of your world.

Malleus loved hearing your stories.

From your gym battle challenges to your contests. Catching all your Pokémon and even receiving an egg from a woman named Cynthia that hatched into a Togepi that which layer evolved into your beloved Togekiss.

Malleus has never left the Valley of Thorns, except for school, so he enjoyed hearing about your travels. Your freedom to journey and see so many different places, never being tied down, he envied it.

“May I see your badges and ribbons again?” He asked.

“Sure.” You agreed, getting up to grab them.

At the movement, Glaceon, rather huffily, got up from your lap and moved to Malleus, curling up on his lap instead. He instantly started stroking her with one hand while the other continued scratching Garchomp. He only stopped when you handed him your badge and ribbon case.

He immediately opened them both and admired your impressive 7 badges and 5 sparkling ribbons. 

You had told him that even though you had collected the required number of ribbons, you were transported to Twisted Wonderland before you could compete in the Grand Festival. You also hadn’t yet had the chance to earn your 8th and final gym badge, which allowed you to challenge the Elite Four and the Sinnoh Champion. 

“They are very impressive, Child of Man.” Malleus complemented.

Even though there wasn’t a gym challenge or contests in Twisted Wonderland, Malleus could tell how much value each badge and ribbon you earned had.

“Thanks, Tsunotaro.” You beamed, positively preening at the complement. “Maybe when I find a way home you could come with me and have your own journey. There are a bunch of dragon type Pokémon I bet you’d like. Maybe your starter could be an Axew. Or a Dino. Maybe a Gible seeing how well you get along with Garchomp. There are also rock or electric types. OOH- Maybe a fairy type!”

Malleus tuned your rambling out. His head was both empty and racing.

Him? Go on a journey in another world? The idea was preposterous! Yet... also tempting.

Traveling around with no chains. Nobody knowing who he was, thus no one quivering at the sight of him. No overbearing, but well meaning, guards to coddle him. He liked this idea!

Unfortunately, he didn’t have long to dwell on the tempting daydream when Ramshakle’s door slammed open with a loud bang.

“WAKA-SAMA!!!”

Speak of the devil.

You and Malleus turned to the doorway to a disheveled and hysterical looking Sebek and a normal sleepy looking Silver.

“Sebek.” Malleus greeted, hiding his annoyance of being interrupted during his time with his Child of Man.

“Waka-sama, you mustn’t leave without telling us! What if something happens to y-”

The half-fae was cut off by and ice beam, freezing him solid. You and Malleus looked over at Glaceon who was angry about having her sleep disturbed for a third time. Now quite irritated and huffy, Glaceon angrily marched upstairs to try and get some sleep in your room.

“My apologies.” You jumped when Lilia appeared behind you without warning, hanging upside down as usual. “They ran off when I wasn’t looking.”

You looked back at the other Diasomnia residence. Silver had already fallen asleep, using Togekiss’s soft, feathery body as a pillow, while Sebek was slowly beginning to thaw out of the ice.

You wish you could say this is the weirdest thing to ever happen with them.

After having Lucario use force-palm and free Sebek, you all sat down near the fire.

(You left Silver be since he was already asleep.)

Sebek wanted to know what was so fascinating about you that Waka-sama would continuously come visit you. 

The only thing you could think of was telling them about your journey.

“After I won my seventh gym badge at Snowpoint, I had to meet my friend, Barry, at Lake Acuity and right after that I had to meet with Professor Rowan and Lucas at Lake Verity.”

“Why did you have to go to those lakes?” Lilia asked, genuinely curious as to what value they had.

“Uh, well-- mmh-- pthbbt.” You tried to think of a way to avoid that question, or at least dance your way around it, and the stuttering and raspberry blowing was obviously helping you be discreet in avoiding the question. 

“GLACE!!”

A loud yell echoed from upstairs thatw as loud enough to wake even Silver. You were momentarily grateful that you had been interrupted before realizing ‘Oh shit that’s my Pokémon.”

“Glaceon!” You yelled, bolting from your chair and rushing up the stairs with your Pokémon and the Diasomnia boys at your heels.

You opened your bedroom door with a loud bang and saw Glaceon in a defensive stance, hissing at the mirror with Grim looking frazzled.

“Fgaah! Minion, control your Pokémon! I was asleep and then it started shouting and tried to attack the mirror!” He yelled angrily, before stalking off to the living room to continue sleeping.

You sighed before looking over at the mirror. You held out your arm towards your Pokémon so they knew not to do anything yet. You inched closer to the mirror, pausing only for a second to pet Glaceon and calm her down a bit. You walked forward a few more steps until you were face-to-face with the mirror. 

Now that you were closer, you could see the shadow of something moving within the glass. You didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t Micky. You leaned a bit closer, trying to make out the figure--

“GIRATINA!!”

Everything went black.

~

The first thing you noticed when you could see again was that you were clearly not in your room. Or your dorm for that matter. 

Everything was weird. You weren’t sure of any other way to describe it other than weird.

Weird and familiar.

“The Reverse World.” You muttered, shocked by your sudden return to the feared Giratina’s playground. 

You didn’t have long to stay dumbfounded when you remembered the Legendary who lived in this world. You frantically looked around you and saw that your team and the boys were with you, which did nothing to curb your panic. Grim wasn’t with you all, so you assumed hoped that he was still at Ramshackle.

You first woke up your Pokémon. They freaked out for a second before realizing where they were, putting them all on guard. They carefully scanned their surroundings for anything they found threatening while you quickly crawled over to the boys, traying to shake them awake. 

“Get up. Guys, get up! We need to move!”

The Diasomnia boys hardly registered what was happening and where they were before you pulled them away. Your team created a barrier around you all as you lead the boys through the strange new world. All they could do was look around wildly.

“Careful, gravity gets weird here.” You warned them. 

True to your words, the piece of land you all were walking on started to curve in the air until you all started walking upside down. Even Lilia, who was used to hanging upside down, was a bit thrown off about this.

“What is this place?” Silver asked what everyone was thinking, knowing that you were the only one who could give any of them an answer.

“The Distortion World.” You explained. “Also known as the Reverse World. It’s kind of like the Underworld of my world.”

That explanation only provided them with more questions but went they entered a place that had these large bubbles floating around them they were quickly distracted.

“Hey,” Silver called, gaining everyone’s attention. “This thing has headmaster Crowley in it.”

Said bubble did have a picture of Crowley in his office, working late into the night. Huh. Who know he actually did anything.

Silver raised a hand towards the bubble. 

“No, don’t touch it!” You exclaimed. Unfortunately it was a second to late and the bubble popped at the slightest graze of Silver’s fingers.

The boys looked over to you at the sound of you yell, seeing your panicked expression.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You order, stressing out each word. “Everything in this world effects the real world. If you aren’t careful you could kill someone through this place.

The boys looked positively alarmed.

“Will the headmaster be alright?”

You waved off their concern, continuing to lead the way. “He’ll be fine. Popping that bubble didn’t kill him, but it did feel like he was hit with a bowling ball.

“How do you know this? How do you know so much about this place, (Y/n).” Lilia asked, dead serious. 

You glance over your shoulder at them before sighing.

Guess it was time to come clean.

“There are some things that happened during my journey that I didn’t tell you guys about.” You confessed.

“While journeying through Sinnoh, I constantly ran into an organization called Team Galactic. Their leader, Cyrus, believed that the world was ugly and needed to be destroyed. His plan was to capture the legendary Pokémon, Palkia and Dialga, and the Lake Guardians, Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf. Those three were the reason I met Barry and Professor Rowan at the lakes, Lilia, to try and save the Lake Guardians from Team Galactic. Anyway, Cyrus claimed that he was going to create his own, perfect world using the powers of the legendary Pokémon. At least I think that was his plan. He talks like Shakespeare and I have a middle school education. Anyway, before he could create his ‘perfect world’ Giratina appeared and took Cyrus away to here, the Distortion World. This is Giratina’s domain.”

The boys were stunned into silence. They knew you were strong, but for you to have done all that as well as fighting overblots? They were truly impressed.

“What happened afterwards?” Malleus questioned, enthralled by your story.

“Cynthia, the current Sinnoh Champion, and I entered the Distortion World to save Cyrus. Unfortunately, he saw this place as his ideal world and didn’t want to leave. In the end, we had to use force and I beat him in a battle. And, after that, I had to face Giratina itself. But, I don’t know how, but before I could face it, the Dark Mirror called me to Twisted Wonderland.”

You stopped walking, taking a deep breath before turning to face the boys. 

“We need to find Giratina. Giratina’s the only Pokémon that can travel between worlds and its the only thing that can get us back to Night Raven.”

Your tone alone was enough to my the Diasomnia boys understand the severity of the situation.

“Human, if this creature is as powerful as you claim, then how do you expect to get it?” Sebek interrogated. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a purple ball with an ‘M’ on it, showing it the the boys.

“This is a master ball. I stole it from Cyrus’s base when I went to save the Lake Guardians. It can catch any Pokémon without fail. All we need to do is find Giratina.”

“Lucar!” 

“Luxray!”

You all turned to Lucario and Luxray who were growling in the same direction. Looking closely, you could see something coming at you all. Your team took their battle stances and sure enough, there was the Angel of Darkness itself, Giratina. 

Even Malleus had to admit, that creature was terrifying. 

It looked like a dragon and centipede mixed together, but it towered over everything, easily dwarfing them all.

You waisted no time.

“Empoleon, Hydro Cannon!” You ordered. Even Sebek had to admit that your authoritative tone was hard to ignore and resist, full of confidence and superiority. 

Empoleon listened without question, fearlessly attacking the towering giant.

“Lucario, Aura Sphere! Glaceon, Ice Beam! Luxray, Thunder! Garchomp, Dragon Rush!”

All your Pokémon attacked at once, hitting Giratina square on. The legendary screeched before firing a move of its own that your team narrowly avoided.

“Great job. Keep attacking!” You ordered shooing the boys out of Giratina’s firing range.

“What do we need to do to help, (Y/n)?” Malleus asked. He was already gripping his pen, ready to fight.

“Nothing. Just stay put and don’t move.” You ordered sternly. The boys were stunned.

“What?! (Y/n) we can help-” 

“I know you can help,” You cut off. “But I don’t need to defeat Giratina. I just need to distract it.”

You ran off before they could question what you meant, whistling for your Pokémon.

“Togekiss!” You called, jumping off the edge of the land and easily getting caught by your flying type, who flew you behind Giratina. 

You let your team get in one last group attack before throwing the master ball at Giratina. 

The legendary effortlessly went in and after a spectacular dive made by you and Togekiss, you caught the ball and returned to the boys.

The boys ran over to you as you climbed off Togekiss, looking at the ball in your hand.

“I can’t believe you actually caught it, human!” Sebek exclaimed, flabbergasted. 

“Thanks, Sebek.”

“So what now?” Silver asked. The group all turned to you expectedly and you rolled your eyes before turning around to the wide open space and releasing Giratina from the master ball. 

“Giratina,” You called, “Please take us back.”

Giratina stared down at you before letting out an echoing screech and lowing its head to your level.

Immediately understanding what it wanted you to do, you crawled onto its head before waving the boys over.

“C’mon. We its going to take us back.”

Hesitantly, the boys climbed on with your Pokémon and once everyone was on, Giratina soared through the air.

This was different from riding a broom or riding Togekiss, who was happily flying beside you all, but it was exhilarating at the same time.

Too soon for anyone’s tastes, Giratina slowed down to a stop before lowering itself down so that everyone could climb off. 

The place were Giratina dropped you all off was a small patch of land with two lakes on it. You and the boys could see your bedroom in one of the lakes, making you realize that you were looking through your bedroom mirror.

“Alright!” You cheered. “Let’s get back.” But before you could step through the reflection, Empoleon called out to you.

“Empoleon!”

“Huh? What is it, Empoleon?”

He was looking in the other lake, pointing at something. 

You, your team, and the boys looked through the refection and you couldn’t restrain the gasp that left your mouth.

You could see the Mesprit, the guardian of Lake Verity.

“That’s Mesprit, Lake Verity’s guardian!” You exclaimed, coming to several realizations at once. “That’s close to Twinleaf Town. I-I could go home!”

You turned to your team and the Diasomnia boys, your eyes sparking with both joy and a few unshed tears. “With Giratina we can go home and still stay in Twisted Wonderland!”

Mallues watched you with soft eyes. He had seen a side if you tonight that he had never seen before. Your courage, your confidence, your skill. He had these too, but yours stemmed from experience. This wasn’t something you were taught since you were born like him, these were abilities you learned through trial and error with your team. Something that he wanted.

With a new found determination, Malleus turned to his most trusted knights and friends.

“Lilia, Silver, Sebek,” He began, quickly gaining everyone's attention, “I have decided that until it is time for me to receive the crown from my grandmother, I want to travel (Y/n)’s world with a Pokémon of my own.”

Even you weren’t expecting that announcement.

“WHAT?! WAKA-SAMA ARE YOU FEELING WELL?!?!? WE MUST GET YOU TO AN INFIMERORY!!”

“I’m fine, Sebek. And I’m not joking.”

“WHAAAAAAAT?!?! YOU, HUMAN, YOU HAVE GIVEN WAKA-SAMA THIS DANGEROUS IDEA!!”

“I think its a great idea.”

“MASTER LILIA?!?!”

“zzzzz”

You couldn’t help snorting at the scene in front of you. A rather calm Malleus simply being unmovable about his choice of coming home with you, a hysterical Sebek trying to talk him out of it, an impish looking Lilia who actually supported Malleus’s idea, and a snoozing silver, who could still sleep effortlessly despite the chaos surrounding him.

You leaned up against Empoleon’s belly, him and all your other Pokémon already lying down, knowing that this was going to take a while. Even Giratina was curled up!

But, You thought, watching the group was a soft smile, you know that no matter how much you wanted to go home, you would've missed this. And this, your friends and NRC, was something that you never wanted to lose.

Bonus:

After sorting everything out with Crowley, you returned to your world to reconcile with your friends and your mom. It took some explaining, but bringing Grim back with you as well as Malleus with his magic and horns was enough to convince everyone what happened to you.

Afterwards, you were able to compete in the Grand Festival. You didn’t end up winning, however you did make it to the finals. Your opponent, Dawn, had only beaten you by a few points.

The Diasomnia gang, as well as Grim, the Adeuce combo, and the Pomefiore Trio were all present to see this and couldn’t have been prouder.

Once the Grand Festival had come to a close, you headed over to Sunnyshore City and won your 8th and final Gym Badge, permitting you to challenge the Elite Four and Cynthia.

The Pomefiore Trio didn’t watch these challenges, but the other did. 

Their nerves were through the roof when you finally faced Cynthia. And when your Garchomp miraculously out sped her Garchomp with the finishing move nobody cheered louder. 

In the end, you took Malleus to the place where you caught Garchomp back when he was still a Gible and caught Malleus his own, whom he unironically named ‘Gargoyle.’ 

Malleus did have to return to the Valley of Thorns, but not without you promising that the upcoming summer would be the start of his own Pokémon Journey. 

I wrote most of this forgetting about Grim, so sorry he doesn’t have a bigger role or more screen time.

Fun story; I got in trouble for writing down my ideas for this at work even though I did it while the store was dead and I’ve worked there for nearly two years and have either written something or drawn something almost every shift I have. Litterally no one but the manager to caught me cares. 

And, just to irritate me more (whether she was aware of it or not), said manager takes my writings and decides to read them and then proceeds to put them back in the wrong order before lecturing me.

So, yeah, that was fun.

[blueskrugs]

Jump Then Fall | Jack Hughes

I am eternally soft for this kid, okay. this is not the original birthweek fic I had planned for him, but it is a bonus Swift Fic because I couldn't help myself. enjoy while I work on getting my shit together for the summer!

tagging: @marcoscandellas @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @poltoncarayko @robthomissed @letmeplaytheblues @troubatrain @ayohockeycheck @blackwidowrising @aria253264 @antoineroussel @starswin @glassdanse @ch-ristiane @majdoline @nazdaddy @hockey-more-like

length: 2k words

High school relationships never worked out. That’s what they always told you, at least, when you and Jack were young and in love. And they were right, sort of. You’d broken up not long after you’d both graduated, with Jack off to be drafted and you off to college. Except you’d stayed close, texting and talking on the phone often once Jack had headed off to New Jersey. He was one of your best friends, and you were thankful he was still in your life, but you weren’t sure you’d ever stop loving him, not really.

I like the way you sound in the morning We're on the phone and without a warning I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard

Saturday mornings always meant long phone calls with Jack. You’d both wake up early and make coffee before spending most of the morning on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes you wished more than anything that you could see his face, but you weren’t sure what would come spilling out of your mouth when you saw him.

One cold morning in December, you were pretty sure Jack had still been asleep when you called. His voice was slow and rough when he spoke, but you could still hear the smile in his voice.

When you heard him yawn, big enough his jaw cracked, you laughed. “Am I keeping you awake?” you asked.

Jack rushed to answer, “No, never.”

“Jack,” you warned.

Jack laughed. “We got in late last night, I’m just a little tired, I’m fine,” he told you.

“I can let you go back to sleep,” you said.

You heard Jack sit up on the other end of the line. “No way, absolutely not,” he said.

“We’re not even talking about anything important.” You’d mostly been stressing about the end of the semester.

“So? I like talking to you,” Jack argued.

You sighed. “You’re an idiot,” but it came out more fond than annoyed.

Somehow, that phone call lasted almost two more hours. Later, you wouldn’t remember what dumb thing you’d quipped that had made Jack burst out laughing, but you’d always remember the sound of that laugh. You’d wished you’d been able to record it, to have it to listen to on rough days, on days you missed Jack a little extra.

I hear the words but all I can think is We should be together

Jack was telling some story about his teammates. You were only half-listening, paying more attention to his face as he talked. It was late, and Quinn and Jack were home for Christmas. You and the three Hughes boys had taken over the basement for the night. Quinn and Luke were sprawled out on the couch opposite you, and you were buried under several blankets with your feet in Jack’s lap. He was using one hand to help illustrate his story, but the other was resting on your ankle, warm despite the chill outside, his thumb absently rubbing against your bare skin.

Quinn threw a balled up napkin at you, jolting you back to reality. “What’re you thinking about over there?” he asked.

“What?” You threw the napkin back at Quinn.

Luke chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s not that funny, there’s no way you’re smiling at him.”

“Hey!” Jack protested. You dug your heel into his thigh, and he turned to grin at you.

You hadn’t even realized you were smiling. You always seemed to be smiling when you were around Jack, you couldn’t help it.

“Just missed you guys,” you said, grinning back at Jack.

Jack squeezed your ankle and went back to telling his story. You still weren’t listening.

Well, I like the way your hair falls in your face You got the keys to me I love each freckle on your face, oh

When Jack first started growing his hair out, you hated it.

“No, why,” you said the first time you saw him that summer. Luke laughed from somewhere behind you.

Jack ran a hand through his hair and smirked at you. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You love my hair.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I’ve changed my mind,” you said.

Jack squawked, outraged and offended. He slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close as you giggled and tried to get away. “You’ll pay for that,” he told you. You dug your elbow into his ribs until he let go of you.

Later that night found the two of you left alone near the bonfire as the sun went down.

“Hey,” Jack said. You locked your phone and tilted your head back to look up at him upside down. “Do you really not like the hair?” he asked.

You snorted. “Would you cut it if I said I didn’t?” Jack shrugged, not quite meeting your eyes. You sat up and twisted to look at Jack properly. “You wouldn’t, oh my God.” It was hard to tell, but he might’ve been blushing in the fading light,

“Just tell me the truth,” he said.

You looked at Jack, really looked at him. He was tan, a new burst of freckles dusted across his nose. He’d shoved a hat on since you’d first seen him earlier in the day, but you could still see how his hair was just beginning to curl at the ends past the nape of his neck. Jack stared back at you, blue eyes dark.

“I guess I could get used to it,” you said.

Honestly, you were so gone for him, you were pretty sure you’d end up still liking him no matter what he looked like.

When people say things that bring you to your knees I'll catch you

Sometimes you didn’t know how Jack put up with it all. From losing streaks to being called a draft bust to people questioning whether he was capable of being a leader, there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t have to deal with some bullshit. You knew it wasn’t easy, but he rarely let it get to him. Rarely, but not never.

It didn’t surprise you when your phone rang after a rough game. You answered the FaceTime call without thinking about it, smiling softly when Jack’s face filled your screen. He looked tired, dark bags under his eyes and his hair hanging limply in his face.

“Hi, bud,” you said.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed, long and loud, scrubbing his free hand across his face. You’d been able to watch the game, had watched the blowout happen in real time, just another loss in this skid, in a season that had started out promising for once.

“I’m tired,” Jack whined.

“You look like shit,” you told him. Jack stuck his tongue out at you. “Do I need to get Ty to delete Twitter off your phone again?” you asked. Jack rolled his eyes, but you weren’t joking.

“No, I just-” Jack rubbed his eyes again. “Did you see what my plus-minus was tonight?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Oh my God, no, we’re not doing this,” you said. Sometimes Jack wanted to forget everything about a shitty game, but other nights he got frustrated and wanted to pick apart every mistake he’d made on the ice. You dragged your laptop closer to you. “C’mon, open your Netflix, we’re watching a movie.”

There was some scuffling on the other end, with Jack accidentally pointing his phone at the ceiling. “Fine, but I get to pick,” he said.

You argued half-heartedly with him for a while, but he won in the end, and you settled on some movie you’d both seen a dozen times. It was quiet while you watched, a comfortable silence, heavy with familiarity.

“Hey,” Jack said lowly as the end credits rolled later. You’d been half-sure Jack had fallen asleep on you. “Thanks.”

You smiled tiredly at him. It was late, and dark in his room, and you could barely make out his blurry form on your phone. “Anytime, Jacky,” you said, but you meant, “I love you.”

You can jump then fall, jump then fall Jump then fall into me, into me, yeah

Your doorbell rang one morning in early May. When you pulled open the front door, there was Jack, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pocket, standing on your parent’s front porch.

“I thought you weren’t coming home for a few weeks still,” you said, leaning against the door frame. The Devils season was over, but Jack had told you he was planning on sticking around for a while or traveling some before coming home for the summer.

Jack took one of his hands out of his pocket and ran it nervously through his hair. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, instead of responding to your non-question.

You raised an eyebrow at him. You’d known Jack for years, and you could probably count on one hand the number of times you’d seen him be nervous. “Well, don’t hurt yourself with that, bud,” you told him.

He made a face at you, but it also got him to smile. “Will you just let me-” he started, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Hey, c’mon, let’s go inside,” you said, stepping back to let Jack follow you into the house.

In the living room, the TV show you had been watching was still paused, but you both ignored it. You sat back on the couch, but Jack stayed standing, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You’re freaking me out a little, Jacky,” you said.

Jack sighed and sat on the floor in front of you, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him. “I miss you,” he said.

“Jack, we talk every day,” you told him. “I’m right here,” you added softly.

Jack huffed and ran his hands through his hair again. He laid back for a moment, staring silently up at the ceiling fan as it slowly turned above you.

“Have you ever thought about getting back together?” he asked when he sat back up.

You thought about it a lot, actually, but you just said, “Yeah.”

“Do you think we could do it?” Jack asked next.

You hesitated on that one. You’d thought that, maybe, you could’ve made it back when you were in high school, but things were so different now. You’d listened to the opinions of others so much back then, had broken up in part because you thought that it was inevitable anyway. Could you make it through all that again? You still had a few years until you graduated, and New Jersey wasn’t exactly close.

Then again, you two were as close as ever. Jack had only missed a handful of your Saturday morning phone calls, and it was always just because of hockey. He was still sitting on the floor in front of you, looking nervous as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

Jack’s face fell a little. “Do you think we could try?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, just as honestly. You’d never been good at saying no to Jack, anyway.

Jack beamed, and you knew exactly why you still loved him after all this time. Jack leaned forward and tugged at your foot. “Hey, come down here,” he whined. “Wanna kiss you.”

“Or you could come up here?” Jack tugged harder. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking needy,” you laughed, but you slid off the couch and let Jack pull you into his lap.

His hands went to your waist, sliding under your T-shirt, and he smiled smugly up at you. “Hi.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose. “Hi,” you said back.

“Uh-uh, you can do better than that.” A kiss to his cheek. Jack rolled his eyes and put one of his hands on your cheek to drag you in for a real kiss. “That’s better,” he whispered, but you were already leaning in for another kiss.

[shedaresthedevil]

Song Line Related asks/prompts for SheDaresTheDevil

OKAY SO: I have a thousand and one ideas in my little gremlin brain about Matt Murdock. I have fics in mind and most of mine are based of a specific line from a song. The line or reference to the song pops up somewhere in the fic. So I figured I would make an ask post with them because I cant decide the order in which to write them-well, most of them. I am also going to try the impossible and make all the fics cohesive, I.e. its the same reader as the one from “Would you pray before you twist the knife?”- if it is unrelated, I will clarify in posting. All posts will have content and trigger warnings. 

Anything that is crossed out has been written already.

1. “My neck is open wide, Begging for a fist around it”- full length fic of my “A thought” post where you reveal that you know Matt has a choking kink. Things get out of hand. 

2. “She’s the fire in the sin, and I burn breathing her in ” - a spicy fun mission story in which you have to go undercover as an exotic dancer, and you get to practice on Matt. Takes place during Samhain.

3. “The Altar is my Hips, even if its a false God”-  Matt joins you in the shower after listening to you sing. He loves the sound of your voice. And you are good. 

4. ‘’ “I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too” - fic in which Matt finds out you lost your S.O before him to tragic circumstances, and you wrote a song about it, but haven't been able to finish it- until you met him. You reveal a secret or two about yourself.

5. “I never Listen But I see you with my eyes closed.”- the first time you saw matts scars- and the first time he saw yours. two separate events, one fic.

6.  “ I’m going to bring a little hell, I’m going to bring a little heaven ” -  you  get stuck practicing....something fun and Matt has to come help you... get untied.

7. “ Till we’re saints just swimming in our sins again ”��-  Submissive Matt. He overwhelmed by everything in his life and asks you to take the lead. he wants to relinquish control, at least temporarily. already in the works for @matt-erialgirl

8. “I should be in church but I’m raging on a Sunday ”-  the first time matt met you, not in your suit, on a Sunday Morning in the cathedral.

9. “ Late night devil, put your hands on me ”- the first time matt met you, this time in your suit, Sunday night, in a parking garage. mentioned briefly in Would you pray.

10 “ You're the pulse in my veins; You're the war that I wage” - You think Matt is dead, takes place during season three. You are employed as a psych consultant for an experimental trial in the midst of you handling your grief ....and you don't come back the same. #iamnotawomanimagod

11.  “ I'm meaner than my demons ;I'm bigger than these bones ” - you lose control of your new power, or rather your new power takes control of you. 

12.  “ Hallucinations, you occupy, My imagination's running wild.” - Matt may be the one on his knees, but he is still the one in control. 

13. "You don't need to run, stay with me. " - Matt lays down with you and asks you to read your book to him, you play with his hair while you read.

14. “The Only Hell I Know is Without You” -You have a panic attack while Matt is dead gone, so you go in the closet where he kept the daredevil suit. 

15. “ Out of myself, I can feel it crawling ”-  you and matt have a discussion about who is going and who is staying on a VERY dangerous mission. You’re different now and he is but a man. You make a VERY drastic point of that. 

16.  “ You can't choose what stays and what fades away ” - you jump onto the ice-its your only chance. The surface gives way beneath you. 

17. “ Just call my name, I'm yours to tame ”- you write another song, this one specifically for Matt, and you let him hear it for the first time.

18. “Help me get away from myself.”- another submissive Matt fic, based on another post for @pleasedin . You know which one.

19. “ And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know “- You have dragged Matt with you to your favorite place - its Taylor Swift night with the cover band that you used to be in. 

20. *Bonus UNRELATED to the storyline* COLLEGE MATT open ask. give me a song and I will write a fic based on it and/or my favorite line. 

21. *BONUS BONUS * give me any song and which era of matt you would like and I will write that too bc I am a masochist. *insert markiplier saying “Im not a masochist  here” *

[disturbedbydesign]

A Night At The Museum

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Length: 4K

Summary: Your job as a museum tour guide was growing tiresome until a mysterious stranger showed up to claim what was his.

Warnings: Dubcon (slight mind control), Violence (mild), Light Bondage, Explicit Sex (oral, vaginal). 18+ only, no minors.

_____________________________________________________________

Your last tour of the day was about to start and all you could think about was getting off work and meeting up with your sister for drinks. You had always dreamed of one day working at the British Museum, but having been a tour guide there for the past year—doing the same thing, so many times a day, every single day—you found yourself growing tired of it and anxious to move on. Much as you loved art history (you did go to school for it, after all), you had grown thoroughly bored with your job. You wanted some excitement in your life. You needed it.

When you first started, you had been one of the museum’s most enthusiastic guides, always trying to engage all the members of your groups and fielding even the strangest of questions with grace and ease. These days, you were just going through the motions, especially for tours this late in the day. Over the course of the year, you had become adept at instantly identifying the one or two people in any given group who actually cared about the subject matter, and you found it simpler to focus on them and ignore everyone else.

As you performed your perfunctory scan of the last group of the day, you saw the usual suspects: a group of unruly children with intentionally oblivious parents; a travel group of obnoxious middle-aged Americans; an older gentleman, alone, who looked like he could be a professor of some sort (he was the one to pay attention to); and a young couple, clearly on one of their first few dates, who would have eyes only for each other.

And then you saw him.

You were immediately taken aback, struck by the fact that, for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t get a read on someone. The man was tall—really tall—with long, black hair slicked back. His skin was almost inhumanly pale and smooth, like he was sculpted of the same marble as the statues surrounding you. Despite the summer heat, the mysterious man wore a black suit and tie, a white dress shirt, and a long black coat with a scarf. He carried an ornately crafted cane, which seemed more an accessory than a walking aid. Compared to the rest of your tour group, he seemed a man out of time.

And then you saw his eyes—his impossibly green eyes. You could see them from across the room, almost glowing and staring at you, unblinking. your breath caught in your throat and all of a sudden you felt very, very cold.

As the hour-long tour progressed, you went through your practiced speeches about each artifact, moving across the room in the pre-established order and fielding questions here and there. As anticipated, the older gentleman was very engaged in the tour and asked intelligent questions, which you happily answered. Also unsurprisingly, one of the loudest Americans (probably trying to impress his friends) kept asking questions that he thought would make him sound smart and cultured but which, in reality, had the opposite effect. After one particularly ridiculous question, you had to turn your head away, pretending to be thinking about the answer but really trying not to laugh. That’s when you got caught in the emerald stare of the mysterious man with the cane.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire tour—hadn’t so much as glanced at any of the art that he was ostensibly there to see—and up until then you had done your best to avoid meeting his gaze. Something about him absolutely terrified you, although you couldn’t pinpoint what exactly you were frightened of. He was standing completely still at the back of the group, but he was so tall that he towered over everyone and you could see his face as clear as if he were right in front of you.

His piercing eyes were locked onto you; they moved where you moved. His gaze was intense and menacing, but it was more than that: you could physically feel his eyes on you, penetrating you all over, making you feel naked. You wanted to look away but you felt like some strange power was holding your eyes onto to his. You stood dumbfounded and locked in a silent stare with the dark-haired stranger until the loud American spoke up, demanding an answer to his previous inquiry. You had never in your life been so happy to answer a stupid question.

You managed to make it through the rest of the tour without meeting eyes with the man with the cane, although there wasn’t one second that went by when you didn’t feel his presence in the room. You even went so far as to forgo asking if anyone had any final questions at the end that they wanted to stay after and discuss with you. You ducked out of the exhibit hall as fast as you could, feeling the man’s gaze boring into your backside as you exited the room, and headed for the staff room to gather your things. You didn’t notice until you got to the employee lounge that you had been holding your breath the whole time.

The museum was officially closed for the day, and as you left the staff area you couldn’t help but notice that the usual security guards posted around the building were nowhere to be found. In fact, there was no one around at all. The main lights were dimmed and the place was impossibly silent; the only sound you could hear was the echo of your own footsteps as you quickly made your way across the building to the exit. You were rounding a darkened corner when you felt an ice-cold hand reach around from behind and clamp over your mouth.

“Don’t be afraid,” hissed a smooth voice in the darkness. “You’re going to like what comes next.”

Before you could think to cry out, you were spun around and face to face with the dark-haired man. He wore the devil’s grin as he leaned down to you, his face barely an inch from your own. One hand still clamped firmly across your mouth, he brought his cane up with the other and traced a gentle line down from your temple to your chin. He let the tip rest under your jaw, pressing in on your throat just a little too hard. He put his lips to your ear and whispered, “Come with me, my pet.”

In one swift motion, he swung you up and over his shoulder and held you there with one arm, the other arm brandishing the cane, which clicked rhythmically against the marble floor, keeping time with his long strides. You were still dazed and breathless from the force of the cane’s tip on your throat and before you knew it, you found yourself in some dark recess of the museum basement, on the floor of a room you hadn’t even known existed. It was filled with strange artifacts the likes of which you had never seen in your extensive studies. There were no lights on but the room was bathed in an eerie shade of blue, which seemed to emanate from the relics themselves. You managed to mumble out a few words.

“Where am I?”

You saw the cane flip once in his hand as he strode toward you and then felt only searing pain as it came crashing across the side of your face.

“Did I say you could speak?” he asked.

You brought your hand to your cheek where he’d struck you, expecting to feel a bloodied gash, but when you took your hand away and looked there was nothing. The blow had left no physical mark, only an icy hot streak of pain. He reached down and traced the line of his blow with a long delicate finger, and suddenly the pain was gone and replaced with a pleasurable tingle.

“As you see, I can inflict both pain and pleasure,” he said, his voice like honey. “What happens next is entirely up to you.”

You should have been terrified, screaming, looking for some outlet or escape, but you found yourself completely paralyzed by his gaze. Going against every survival instinct screaming inside of you, you dared speak again.

“Please… please just tell me who you are and what you want.”

You closed your eyes and braced yourself for another blow but it did not come. You glanced up to see him looking at you inquisitively from the corner of the room, resting his long, lean frame on the tip of his cane.

“You are a bold one, I see. Deserving of my punishment, yes, but also worthy of the pleasure I can give you. I am going to ask you three questions and you are going to answer them honestly. If you lie, I will know, and you will suffer for it. Now tell me, do I frighten you?”

“Yes.”

“Do I excite you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to leave? And before you answer this last and most important question, know this: If you say yes, I will let you go. I will not harm you. I will not follow you. You will never see me again. But you will also never know who I am or what I am here for, the memory of this night will haunt your dreams forever, and no one will ever believe your story. Within a week, you will go mad wondering whether I was a dream or reality.”

In one seamless motion, he crossed the room and yanked you to your feet by your shoulders, holding you an inch from his face, which seemed to glow with its own light.

“Now answer the question. Do you want to leave?”

The final answer flew from your lips before you even knew what you were saying. “No,” you whispered, and he eased his harsh grip on your shoulders, a sly smile spreading across his lips.

You stared at him, motionless and feeling almost paralyzed as you waited for permission to speak.

“Well,” he began, “I suppose it’s only fair that I offer you the same courtesy you have allowed me, so you may ask me three questions and I will answer them honestly. Choose your words carefully, because you get only three.”

He released his grip on you and returned to the corner, watching you and waiting.

“Who… who are you?” you stammered.

“Ah, a good question and excellently phrased. Had you asked just my name, that is all you would have received. But who I am is much more complicated.”

He sauntered toward you and lifted his cane, pointing it in a sweeping circle around the room.

“You see these things here? I am not so different—I was just another stolen relic from another world, locked away until someone might have use of me. But I have broken free of my shackles, and I have come to claim what is mine. You as who I am? I am a God. I am your God.”

You should have thought him completely mad, but you believed him. For whatever reason, you believed him.

“What do you want?” you asked.

He shook his head and chuckled low. “That’s far too vague a question, my pet, for I want many things. I could tell you simply that I want a glass of water, and I would not be lying. But since you are such an exquisite creature and so well behaved, I will answer the question you meant to ask, which is what is my purpose here.”

Something was happening to you, something strange and terrifying and wonderful. You were mesmerized by the way he spoke and the way his long, cold fingers brushed your cheek when he had called you exquisite. You hung on his every word and could not take your eyes off of him.

“I am Loki of Asgard and I have come to reclaim what was stolen from me. This room holds all that I need to take my rightful place as your master and overlord—to claim humanity as my own and rule the people of Earth as your king.”

You searched your racing mind for the words needed to get the answer you so desperately wanted, but your brain would not cooperate.

“One last question, my pet. And don’t keep me waiting.”

Finally, the words come to you in the correct order. “Why have you chosen me?”

Loki smiled lasciviously down at you. “I could tell just by looking at you that you crave subjugation,” he said, his voice smooth and so deep you felt it everywhere. “You were made to be ruled, and you will be the first to kneel for me.”

In a flash he was on you, grabbing your hair hard and pulling you into a deep kiss. His lips felt ice cold but his breath was hot and moist as his tongue twined around yours. You raised your hands to run them through his hair when he abruptly pulled back and caught you by the wrists. He spun you around and bound your arms behind your back with his scarf, pushing you to your knees once he had secured you.

“I told you to kneel,” he growled.

He was behind you and you could hear his ragged breathing, the rustling of clothes, and the soft thump of fabric hitting the floor. When he spun you back around, he was completely naked and you drank in the sight of his pale skin and lean, powerful body. His cock was enormous and rock hard.

“Pleasure me, my pet. I know this is what you crave.”

He grabbed you by the hair and shoved the whole length of his shaft down your throat repeatedly, fucking your face until you almost passed out for lack of air. When you thought you could take no more, he yanked you off of him, tilting your head back and looking down at you with glowing green eyes.

“Very good, my pet. Now slower. Worship it as you will worship me.”

He grabbed the base of his cock, holding it at an angle above your face and willing you to lick it. You complied, running your tongue slowly from the base to the tip, feeling his blood throbbing in the veins that ran the length of his massive shaft; the blood was hot but the flesh was icy cold—a very strange sensation, but one that fascinated you. He let out a series of short, carnal grunts as you swirled the tip of your tongue around his head. You took just the tip into your mouth and began to massage it gently with your lips as he ran his hand lightly up and down his shaft. You could taste his leaking juices as you tongued the slit, and the taste of him was like nothing you’d ever experienced before—it was delicious, addictive even, and it made you insatiable and impossibly wet. You moaned onto his cock as you let it drip down your throat, sending vibrations of pleasure running through his entire godly frame and causing him to groan in ecstasy.

Before you knew it, you were on your feet and your wrists were freed from the scarf that bound them. Holding the scarf between gritted teeth, he ripped your blouse open and straight off your body. He cupped and squeezed your breasts in his icy hands, and your already hard nipples became almost unbearably erect against the lace fabric of your bra. He unclasped it and let it fall to the floor next to you as he yanked your skirt down around your ankles. One hand cradled the back of your neck and he let the other trace a line in between your breasts and down your stomach. When he reached the top of your thong, just above your mound, he stopped.

Your breath caught in your throat and you looked at him. He took the scarf from between his teeth.

“Turn around,” Loki commanded.

You did as you were told and he brought the scarf around your head, blindfolding you. You felt his strong arms lift you up and moments later you were bent over a cold metal table, facedown and arms over your head, gripping the steel. You felt his breath on your pebbled skin as he ripped your thong off your body with his teeth, and he pushed your legs wider apart with his knee as he traced down the length of your spine with two fingers. When he found your entrance, you were already soaked for him—an almost unnatural level of wetness that you’d never felt before in your entire life—and he plunged two long fingers deep inside you without ceremony. You cried out your pleasure as he moved them furiously in and out of you before he slowed and found your sweet spot with his middle finger, working it violently until he started to feel your walls tighten around him and your cries faded to jagged breaths. He stopped just before you found release and you whined loudly.

“You are ready,” he said—telling you not asking you. “Now we shall see where your loyalty lies.”

You were left wanting and stranded on the verge, and the absence of sight heightened all your other senses. Every inch of your body was buzzing and the sound of your own heart beating was deafening in the silent room. That’s when you heard the rhythmic clicking of the cane moving slowly toward you and then stop.

“Who is your God?” Loki asked, his voice cold and commanding.

“You,” you wailed. “You are my God.”

He brought the cane down across your bare ass with all the power of Asgard and you screamed out in delicious agony.

“I said, WHO IS YOUR GOD?”

You tried to answer but your mind could not form words. He brought the cane down on you again, three hard lashes in quick succession, and you made a noise that sounded inhuman in your own ears.

“I’ll ask you one more time: who is your God and your King?”

The sensations coursing through your body threatened to put you over the edge of consciousness, but somehow you managed to yell out to him through the haze of pain and pleasure.

“LOKI! Loki of Asgard is my God and my King!”

He laughed maniacally and you could hear the clatter of the cane dropping to the floor. You felt his magic fingers trace a line across the searing flesh of your ass and the white-hot agony turned instantly to a pleasure unlike any you had ever known. You almost achieved release just from his touch. He untied the blindfold and he rolled you over on your back, pulling you up to face him. His eyes seemed warmer as he leaned in and grazed your ear with his lips as he spoke.

“You have proven your loyalty to me, my pet. I know that you will worship me as I deserve. Now you will be rewarded.”

He stood between your legs and cupped your face in his hands as he kissed you slowly and deeply, more passionately than he had before. For the first time, when you went to touch him, he didn’t try to stop you. At last, your hands found his long black hair and you grabbed fistfuls of it as you pulled him down on top of you, the tip of his cock teasing your opening as you devoured each other. He pulled his face away and buried it in between your breasts as he massaged them, taking one nipple in his mouth and nibbling it lightly as he rubbed the other between two fingers. Every flick of his finger or tongue on your body dragged a sound out of you that you didn’t know you could make. You untangled one hand from his hair and found his massive cock, gripping it firmly and stroking it up and down as you rubbed it against your clit.

“Fuck me, my King. I beg you. Take me any way you want me.”

He lifted his mouth from your breast. “Not so fast, my pet. I must taste you first.”

He pulled you down to the edge of the table and threw your legs over his shoulders as he settled between your legs. He licked you slowly up and down a few times before latching onto your clit, holding your hips firm as he swirled the tip of his tongue around and around, faster and faster until you started to cry out and buck against him. He brought a hand down from your hip and teased your slick folds with one long finger as he continued to work your clit with his tongue and his lips. He brought another finger to your entrance, sliding the two fingers together from the top of your folds to the bottom, and when he plunged both fingers inside you, you came so hard you nearly fainted. His touch was godly, and you knew then he had ruined you for all mortal men.

You had barely recovered from your climax when he sat you up and took you all at once, shoving his cock inside you to the hilt, filling you with ice and fire. He grunted like an animal with each forceful thrust and you screamed with pleasure as you clawed at his back. Your hands found his muscular ass and you gripped it tightly as you screamed his name, keeping time with his rhythm.

“Loki… Loki… My God… My King...”

You brought your arms up around his neck as he lifted you off the table, his strong hands gripping your ass as he walked you over to the side of the room. You clung to him with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your arms at his neck as he fucked you senseless against the cold basement wall. The light of the otherworldly artifacts tinted his skin an inhuman shade of blue; it was beautiful, he was beautiful. He quickened his pace and then stopped, remaining motionless with the full length of him still throbbing inside of you.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered. “Such a good little pet. I think maybe I’ll keep you.”

He walked you back over to the table and laid himself down on it so that you were straddling him. You moved up and down on his cock slowly, almost teasingly, wanting to feel every inch of him inside of you. As you rocked up and down, he brought his cold thumb to your clit, circling it while you rode him and bringing you close to the edge again. He began to buck underneath you as you fucked him and you knew he was close, too. You leaned in and grabbed the hair at the back of his head as you continued to slam yourself onto on him.

The words fell from your lips—“Fill me with your God seed, my King, I want every last drop you have”—and even as you said them, you had no idea where they came from, almost as if they were planted there and forced from you.

That had Loki’s eyes rolling back in his head and he moaned deep as he sat up, grabbing your hips as you rocked back and forth on his lap. He tightened his grip on you and quickened his pace, pounding into you hard and fast. As the muscles of your tight walls rippled with pleasure and you cried out your reverence in his ear, Loki found his release. He held your squirming body tight against him, your muscles shaking uncontrollably as he came roaring into you. You felt his warmth spread inside of you—such a contrast to the chill of his flesh—and you stayed locked in his embrace, completely limp with exhaustion.

“Thank you, my King,” you whispered, and Loki brought his fingers to your face.

The last thing you remember is two cool fingertips pressed to your temple. When you awoke, you were naked and alone in the basement room. The artifacts that had filled the room were now gone and there was no sign of Loki but for a pile of clothing next to you on the table—new clothes to replace the ones he had destroyed in his lust—and a handwritten note that said only “Fit for a Queen.” You put them on, wondering if he would ever be back for you. You were nothing now without your king. You knew you were made to be ruled.

[ronsonlywhore]

Hi im new in here,so i don't know exactly what you write so could you please write something like wolfstar being the readers parents with the fluffy prompts 3,13,19,34,and 39,sorrt if that was weird,i have major daddy issues and see them both as father figures,thanks for the attention and sorry again if you don't write this kinda of stuff

❛ 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗻𝗲. ❜ dad!wolfstar

summary: in which (y/n) is the light in both sirius and remus's life.

prompts: fluff/ 3. "stop moving around and let me braid your hair." / 13. "oh! my heart! it's too full of love for you! quick, i need a doctor!" / 19. "you can't leave without letting me hug you first." / 34. "help! there's a spider holding me hostage over here!" / 39. "i had a nightmare...can i stay with you tonight?"

a/n: au where neither sirius nor remus dies and sirius is cleared and they live happily ever after the war with a little girl they adopted. OKAY THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE. i didn't know if you wanted like a little reader or an older reader, so i included both! thanks for requesting anon <3

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"(y/n)! come back here right now, you little devil!"

(y/n)'s giggles echoed throughout the house, her wet hair leaving a trail of water droplets on the floor. sirius could hear the quiet pitter-patter of her feet on the hardwood floors, and he quickly dropped a towel on the floor to clean up the mess she had made running away from him.

"(y/n)! this isn't funny!" sirius shouts into the silent house. it's quiet...too quiet.

"oh, i see...you're hiding from me are you? well, hopefully you're not hiding...behind the curtains!" he rips away the curtains enthusiastically, only to find an empty space behind them.

sirius creeps over to the closet, putting an ear to the door. he swears he can hear his five-year-old shuffling around and pulls the door open, feeling triumphant. "caught you!" he says, victorious.

his face falls when he's met with an empty space as well, and now he's starting to get worried. where could she be?

suddenly, he hears a small ah-choo! and a gasp followed by the sneeze. he smiles and drops down beside the couch. there (y/n) is, trying to hold in her giggles and wiping dust from her face.

she screams when sirius appears next to her, and laughs (the most angelic laugh sirius has ever heard) when her dad picks her up and hoists her on his shoulder.

"thought you could sneak away from me, huh?" sirius says as he sits (y/n) down and tickles her. "i just need to brush your hair before it gets all tangled."

(y/n) sighs. "i know, but you pull too much. i like it better when daddy does it. when is he coming back?"

sirius takes out the brushes and sits behind (y/n). "he'll be back today, i promise. now, sit still and let me brush your hair."

(y/n) moves away before sirius can start though, and he's starting to lose his patience. "(y/n), if you don't sit down right now, i'm not taking you to diagon alley with me. i'll just drop you off with harry while i go and have fun at fortescue's ice cream parlor," he threatens.

(y/n)'s eyes widened. she liked staying with cousin harry, but her dad was talking ice cream here, so there was no way she would let herself be hauled off to harry's while her dad got to stuff himself full with sorbets galore.

"no! i promise i'll let you brush my hair...but on one condition. you have to let me eat the last slice of cake right now. for breakfast." (y/n) crosses her tiny little arms and pulls out the puppy eyes, the puppy eyes sirius can never resist.

so how could sirius say no?

"you've got a deal, my little devil." sirius says as he shakes (y/n)'s pudgy toddler hand. she giggles, sits down obediently, and lets sirius brush through her hair, only painfully wincing twice.

later, as (y/n)'s barreling forkfuls of cake into her mouth and sirius is hastily trying to clean up her face before she messes up her shirt, the door opens, and (y/n) squeals happily. "daddy's home!"

she jumps down from her chair before sirius can say anything, and runs like mad to the front door.

remus is there, taking of his coat and grimacing as his sore muscles protest. his face is pale and and there are a few scratches running along his cheeks and neck. he hears (y/n) before he sees her, and quickly turns around to find the girl jumping into his arms.

"you're home!" she shrieks happily and tightens her hold around his neck. remus laughs and hugs back tightly. he notices frosting around her mouth and asks sternly, "and what is this, young lady?"

she smiles sheepishly and says, "it's cake! do you want some?"

sirius appears and remus turns to him. "sirius," remus starts, "you let (y/n) have cake for breakfast?"

sirius throws his hands in the air defensively. "i don't even get a hello kiss? not even a 'good morning, darling'? nothing?"

remus rolls his eyes and says grudgingly, "good morning, darling."

"that's better," sirius says as he leans in and kisses his husband's cheek. "if you must know, (y/n) and i made a deal. i let her have the cake in exchange for her letting me brush her hair. apparently, she likes it better when you do it."

remus looks back to (y/n), who's staring intently at his face. she picks up one of her little hands and places it on the cuts running from his chin to his right eye.

"what happened to your face? she asks sadly.

sirius and remus look at each other morosely. (y/n) doesn't know about remus's...condition, both men agreeing to tell her when she's older.

"just a...rough night at work, sweetheart." remus answers as he puts (y/n) down and walks over to the couch, throwing himself down on it. sirius follows him and runs a hand through his hair. (y/n) runs off into the kitchen, probably wanting to finish her cake quickly.

"was it a bad one?" sirius asks as he sits down beside remus.

remus shrugs. he always feels tired after a full moon, especially since he travels so far, as far away as he can to keep his family safe.

suddenly, (y/n) is standing next him, smiling as she dots his nose with frosting. remus laughs and picks her up again, holding her above her head. she stretches her arms in front of her, mimicking a superhero in flight, and remus "flies" her all over the living room until they hear a yelp of pain.

remus turns to see sirius doubled over, holding his chest. he quickly puts (y/n) down and hurries over to him, while (y/n) asks, "what's wrong with daddy?"

"sirius? darling, are you alright?" remus asks worriedly.

"oh! my heart! it's too full of love for you both! quick, i need a doctor!" sirius exclaims, feigning agony.

remus scoffs, grabs a pillow from the couch, and whacks his husband over the head with it. "that wasn't funny!"

sirius, rubbing his head, drawls, "oh, you wanna fight, do you? don't say i didn't warn you; you mess with the bull, you get the horns." he grabs a pillow and smacks remus's side.

remus doesn't care that he's dead tired, doesn't care if he's hungry and terribly needs a bath: he will take sirius down in this pillow fight even if it's the last thing he ever does.

(y/n) squeals and gets on the couch, jumping up and down, cheering both of them on.

after, with both pillows destoyed and feathers littering the living room (sirius definitely won, although remus would never admit that to anyone), sirius and remus flop down on the couch, preparing to doze off, when (y/n) exclaims, "but who's gonna clean this up?"

"oh...we'll worry about that later. come here, my little devil." sirius says tiredly and pulls (y/n) into his chest. remus loops an arm around sirius, and the three soundly sleep into the late hours of the evening, all interwined together.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

years later

"dad, i'm not five years old anymore. you don't have to do my hair anymore."

"stop moving around and let me braid your hair."

remus's fingers were definitely getting a bit too aged to be able to braid (y/n)'s hair with ease like he used to when she was small, but he was able to manage decent plaits to tame (y/n)'s wild hair.

both remus and (y/n) look into the mirror, and remus smiles. he places his hands on (y/n)'s shoulders and sighs wistfully, "oh...look at how much my angel's grown."

"don't start getting all sappy on me now, dad." (y/n) laughs as she shrugs off her dad's hand as she starts downstairs.

remus blocks the door way. "nuh uh. you can't leave without letting me hug you first."

(y/n) smiles and rolls her eyes, but gives in either way. she wraps her arms around her father's waist tightly, and remus can swear he's the happiest man in the world.

they pull apart when they hear glass shattering from the kitchen. remus and (y/n) rush downstairs and find sirius balancing on top of a chair, holding a pan in the air defensively. two glass cups are sitting on the counter, the third one in broken shards on the floor.

"sirius, what on earth are you doing?" remus asks as he moves into the kitchen.

"oh, good, you're here! you have to help me, there's a spider holding me hostage over here!"

(y/n) laughs. "dad, we've been through this before! all you have to do..." she trails off as she graps a cup and traps the spider in it, then takes a table mat and slides it under the cup, "is catch it, and set it free."

she places the spider on the open windowsill, and it scuttles away into the garden.

sirius precariously climbs down from chair as remus sweeps up the broken glass. "you're a lifesaver, you are," sirius says as he claps a hand on (y/n)'s back.

"that's me, full-time superhero."

. . .

sirius and remus are on the couch, watching the telly (that sirius begged to have), and almost dozing off when sirius feels a tug on his sleeve.

"dad? dad, are you awake?"

sirius groggily opens his eyes and sees his daughter staring into his face. "(y/n)," he asks, "what's wrong?"

the soft voices wake up remus as he too sits up and rubs his eyes. he takes notice of (y/n), and a worried expression crosses his face. "are you alright, sweetheart?"

(y/n) nods her head quickly and says, "everything's fine, it's just...i had a nightmare, could i sleep here with you guys?"

remus and sirius instantly scoot apart to make space for (y/n), who squeezes in between them. she's not as small as she used to, but is cozy enough as her dads close in beside her.

"remember when you were smaller and would sleep in sirius's arms?" remus asks his daughter.

she nods sleepily, "i'm far too big for that now."

remus and sirius laugh, and cuddle in closer. the scene is a sight for sore eyes, and (y/n) easily dozes off, glad she has the warmth of her dads on either side of her.

because two is always better than one, right?

[girlwiththereapertattoo]

begin again - part four

Jax Teller x female!Reader

Summary: After the return of her abusive ex-boyfriend, the reader plots her escape

Word count: 2,9k words

Warnings: bad language, alludes to the death of a minor character, physical & verbal abuse & kinda angsty

Author's note: Enjoy the fourth installment and all feedback is welcome! :)

If you’re in an abusive relationship or you suspect that someone you know is being abused, speak up and reach out to the correct people!

Beta read by @crucifixedbitch

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

💀💀💀💀💀

You examine your face in the mirror, pleased with the job you’ve done to conceal the marks left by B/N. Last night was brutal and you would do anything to erase it from your memory. To never have it happen again.

“Toots!” A loud pounding sounds on the bathroom door, “Come on, sweetheart, we’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I-I’ll be there in a second.” Moving quickly, you pack your makeup back into your cosmetic bag. “I just need to grab my bag.”

“Five minutes, okay?” he sounds irritated with you. “We’ll wait outside.”

With a shaking hand, you zip the bag closed and leave the bathroom for the bedroom. Your handbag is on the bed but your phone’s not on its usual spot at your bedside table and you just know B/N has something to do with its disappearance. And you know that it’ll be a while before you see it again. You’re so upset, it brings tears to your eyes but there’s no time for them. He’s waiting for you and being late will lead to trouble.

S/N and B/N are on the small patch of grass outside the house, kicking around a ball.

“You gotta kick the ball to me, okay kid? You gotta kick it hard.”

S/N scurries towards the ball and kicks it so hard, it zooms between B/N’s open legs and bounces off of the fence. They both cheer from excitement, and S/N runs straight into B/N’s open arms.

“That was amazing, buddy!”

You clap your hands, drawing their attention to you.

“Did you see that, Mommy?”

“I did, ace, and it was so good.” You walk over to join them on the grass, “Hey, sweet boy.”

You haven’t seen your son all morning. You lift him off the ground and hug him to your chest, it feels good to hold him so close to you, and for the second time in the last five minutes, you feel you might cry. The three of you make your way over to B/N’s rental SUV parked on the small driveway.

“Mommy, are you feeling cold?”

You briefly glance over to B/N who’s prepping the baby car seat. “A little. Mommy’s not feeling too well.”

“Do you need chicken soup?”

You chuckle and press a kiss to his forehead, “Will you help me make it when we get back?”

He pinky promises you to. You hand him over to B/N who buckles him into the car seat. It’s not his intention, but you can’t help but feel humiliated by S/N’s question. A turtleneck and jeans in the dead of the summer in Charming, California? That’s sure to raise suspicions.

“Baby, do you not think I should stay behind?”

B/N turns in his seat, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

Pointing at your turtle neck, you explain, “It’s going to draw attention. It’s summer and I’m dressed for winter.”

“And you care what these people think of you?”

Yes, a lot. It’s your fucking hometown, of course, you care! You want to scream at him, claw at his face, but you’re weak. Pathetic. You can’t even muster the courage to get away from him.

“Sweetheart, no one’s going to be looking at you. Trust me.”

Ouch.

“Don’t ruin this outing by being so self-obsessed.” He starts the car’s engine and backs out of the driveway, “Do you want to listen to some music, buddy?”

Today’s your last day in Charming, B/N’s orders. Later on today, you’ll embark on a five-day road trip back to North Carolina. The idea of being trapped in the car with B/N has you regretting every decision you have made in your life that has led you to this point. Forty fucking hours? The car just isn’t big enough and no amount of eagerness from S/N can change your mind.

“When we get back, I need to see Mabel.”

Mabel’s a friendly neighbor who lives down the street from your mother’s. She moved to Charming a few months before your escape to Charlotte, and since your return, she has been a great help.

“Who’s Mabel?”

“She lives down the road.”

“Why do you need to see her?”

To use her phone to call Jax. “I want to give all my mother’s old furniture to charity. She offered to help me organize it.” It’s a believable lie, “It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

After a dragged-out silence, he murmurs a soft ‘okay’ and warns you not to do anything stupid. “I might not be able to stop myself this time around.”

The chilling part is that it’s not an empty threat. You look back at S/N who’s softly singing along to ‘Old MacDonald Had A Farm’, gazing out the car window. Leaving Charming was a decision you made for his sake, to protect him from his father’s world. To give him a shot at a normal childhood, to raise him away from gangs and violence. Instead, you found yourself in the clutches of a wicked man who will one day kill you.

“Mommy, will we see Abel before we leave?”

“No,” B/N responds before you can.

God, you fucking hate him. Your feelings towards him are violent, and you’ve got to come out of the car before you act recklessly.

“Stop the car.” You unbuckle your seatbelt prompting the seatbelt alarm to go off. “Stop the car, B/N, now!”

He pulls into the empty parking space in front of a bridal shop. You frantically open the car door and stumble out of the vehicle, gasping for air. So glad to have distance from the devil you call your boyfriend.

“Toots, what’s wrong?”

You take a step away from him, needing the space. “I need to breathe, B/N.”

That upsets him. “What are you trying to do? Huh? Get in the fucking car so I can drive to the grocery store.”

You pace around in a circle on the sidewalk, contemplating your next move. You can’t run off, B/N could easily catch you and S/N’s still in the car. You can’t leave him, even though you know B/N would never harm him. He loves him too much. Think, think, think! You have a moment of clarity when you look across the street and see who you believe to be Bobby Munson sitting at an ice cream shop. What are the odds?

“Ice cream and candy!” You spin to look at B/N who’s shooting daggers at you. “I want ice cream and we need candy for the road trip, don’t we?”

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

You walk back to the car to open S/N’s door and start unbuckling him from his car seat. “D’you want ice cream, ace?”

His face lights up. “Ice cream! Ice cream!” he chants.

“Alright. Come on.” You shut the car door, S/N clutched tightly in your arms, “It’s just a small pit stop. Do you want any?”

B/N looks furious but there isn’t much he can do to you out in the open. He’s starting towards you when his work phone starts ringing. He has to take the call and so he tells you to go ahead, he’ll meet you inside the shop. You flash him a smile and make your way to Scoops & Sweets. Now that you’re closer, you’re certain it’s Bobby, and he’s standing behind the counter with his arm in a sling, drinking beer.

“Bobby?”

“Y/N?” His stony expression morphs into a smile, “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Bobby.” For the first time in the last 12 hours, you feel safe. “I thought it was you.”

“Who’s the kid?”

“This is S/N,” you look proudly at your son. “Say hello to Bobby, ace?”

Bashful, he waves awkwardly at Bobby before concealing his face in the crook of your neck. You casually look over your shoulder to check if B/N’s still on his call before you turn back to Bobby.

“Bobby, is there a phone I can use? I want to call Jax, there’s something I want to tell him, and my phone’s broken.”

He looks out the window to B/N who’s pacing next to the rental. “Why didn’t you ask your friend to use his phone?”

“He doesn’t like to share.”

Bobby looks back at you. “Jax’s upstairs. Come, I’ll take you up to him. Bring the kid.”

Bobby calls for Chuckie who emerges from what you assume to be the staff break room. When you last saw Chuckie, he had fingers.

“What happened to your fingers?”

“Chinese cut them off,” he holds up his prosthetic hands. “These were a gift from Gemma.”

You regret asking. Bobby orders him to keep watch of the shop and starts leading you towards the flight of stairs.

“Uh Chuckie, a man will come in here looking for me. Could you tell him I went into the bathroom?”

Chuckie nods and you continue on your way with Bobby.

“Is this the new clubhouse?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Bobby leads you and S/N down a short hallway and stops in front of a closed door. He knocks once before he opens it, “Visitor for Jax Teller.”

The men in the room, consisting of Jax, Chibs, Tig, Happy, and Juice, all turn to the door. From their expressions, you’d swear they’ve just seen a ghost. You might as well be a ghost.

Jax raises off his chair and crosses the space to join you at the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Hi, boys. I’m sorry for interrupting your meeting,” suddenly, coming to Jax seems like a bad idea. But B/N. You put S/N on the ground. “I just wanted to see you before we leave this afternoon.”

Jax scowls.

“We’re headed back home to North Carolina. Driving.” You throw your arms around your ex, wincing at the discomfort you feel at the contact. “I’m so glad I could see you again.”

He returns your hug, holding you flush against him and you don’t care that you’re in pain. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that the bottom hem of your sweater’s risen, probably exposing the bruises on your lower back. There’s a pang of pain in your heart when he releases you. The tears blur your vision. God, you hate that you’re so emotional today.

“How are you getting home?”

“B/N arrived last night, he’s waiting for us downstairs.” Probably impatient and suspicious. “We should probably get going.”

Downstairs, B/N’s at the counter listening to Chuckie recount the time he had his fingers cut off by Lin’s men. S/N leaps out of your arms and runs over to B/N.

“Here’s your candy.” Chuckie slides two bags of candy to you, “Don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.”

You smile at him. “Thank you.”

B/N snatches the candy from the counter and the three of you make your way out of the shop. It’s a short trip to the grocery store and luckily for you, there aren’t a lot of people buying groceries whilst you’re there. The tension from earlier has subsided, and the ride back to your mother’s house is a sing-along with S/N leading you. You’re helping B/N unload the bag of groceries from the car when you spot a familiar van at the end of your street.

“When will you go to Mabel’s?”

“After lunch,” you start unpacking the groceries, “I’m sure you boys are hungry.”

“Starving.” He leans over to press a kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll have a beer with my lunch.”

He leaves you in the kitchen to join S/N who’s building Lego in the living room. You’ve just finished laying all the lunch ingredients on the counter when you hear the thunderous roar of a motorcycle outside your house. Shortly after, a knock sounds.

“I’ll get it,” you call from the kitchen.

Unfortunately, B/N beats you to the door. He angrily signals for you to go back into the kitchen.

“Do as you’re fucking told,” he warns through gritted teeth. “Go back to the kitchen.”

You open your mouth to protest but he marches over to you, grabbing your arm harshly, and drags you through the kitchen to the laundry nook.

“You’re hurting me!” you complain, struggling in his firm grip.

The sound of the back of his hand connecting with your cheek bounces off the walls of the small space. You forcefully shove him away from you and try to escape but he hooks a strong arm around your waist and hauls you back into the nook.

���Let go of me!” you claw at his arms and the pain causes him to release you.

“You little bitch!”

He lunges towards you but you’re quicker than him. You grab the first item in your reach which happens to be an iron and whack him on the head with enough force to make him cry out from the pain. You dash past him and run to open the front door at the same time Jax is about to shoot at the door.

His scowl deepens at your disheveled appearance. “Where is he?”

“In the laundry nook. I hit him on the head but he’s still conscious.”

“Where is the kid?”

S/N! You run into the living room, your eyes frantically searching around the space for your little boy. His Legos are strewn on the floor but there’s no sight of him. “S/N?”

“Mommy!”

He’s behind the couch. You find him curled up, his eyes closed and his hands covering his ears.

“My baby.” You scoop him in your arms and carry him towards the front door. “Jax?”

He calls back from the kitchen and tells you to go outside. “Rat’s got the van out front.”

“But Jax–”

“Go!”

You rush out of the house, S/N cradled in your arms. You’ve just stepped onto the patch of grass when you hear grunts coming from the house. Ratboy meets you at the gate and takes S/N from your shaking hands to carry to the van. He helps you into the vehicle before he climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Gemma’s.”

💀💀💀💀💀

S/N and Abel are asleep in Jax’s old bedroom and you’re sitting at Gemma’s dining table staring blankly into space. If you had been told a week ago that you’d be seeking asylum at Gemma Teller’s home, you wouldn’t have believed it. You replay the last twenty-four hours in your head, you’re somewhat in disbelief of all that’s happened.

Gemma places a gentle hand on your shoulder, drawing you back to reality. “Here you go sweetheart,” she places a steaming mug of herbal tea in front of you, “it should help calm your nerves.”

“Thank you.” You place both of your shaking hands on the mug, watching as Gemma takes her place across the table from you. “Have you heard anything from Jax?”

“No,” she reaches for the box of cigarettes on the table. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

You nod, your eyes dropping to the mug. “Did he… did he tell you why he had Ratboy bring me here?”

“Psycho boyfriend,” she takes a pull from the lit cigarette. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

The shame brings fresh tears springing to your eyes. It makes it worse to know that this time around, S/N was awake to hear it all. You feel like you’ve failed him, exposed him to the very thing you vowed to protect him from when you left Charming all those years ago.

“What do I tell S/N?”

“Nothing,” she stubs out the cigarette in the ashtray. “You shouldn’t worry yourself with that right now. You should try get some sleep, you can worry about that tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight.” You take a small sip of the hot tea and sigh, “This is all my fault.”

“Sweetheart, no.”

“It is and now I’ve gone and gotten Jax involved in this mess.” The frustration is eating at you, “I just–”

You’re cut off by the kitchen door opening. Jax’s back. Thank the heavens! Gemma rushes over to greet him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

Joining you at the table, Jax pulls you into him and tenderly strokes your back. All your fears and concerns are alleviated once you’re in his arms.

“Did he hurt you?”

He chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You shouldn’t be worrying yourself with that.”

“I can’t help it,” you laugh through your tears.

“You should get some rest.”

“All my stuff is back at my mom’s.” The thought of returning to the scene of last night’s brutality has you shuddering. You pull away from Jax and roughly dry your tears. “I don’t… I can’t–”

Jax pulls you back into him, holding you tighter than before, and gently rocks you. “He’ll never hurt you again.”

Guilt. You feel a tremendous amount of guilt. Is he dead? Possibly, and your guilt deepens when you recognize a small part of you overjoyed by the possibility. He deserves it. How could you even think that? No one deserves to die — not even B/N.

“How are you going to get rid of the body?”

He doesn’t respond to your question, instead, he tells you that he’ll get Rat to bring yours and S/N’s bags to Gemma’s.

“Jax, don’t leave,” you plead, the surge of panic hits you like a freight train and has you fisting the hem of his shirt. “Stay.”

He presses a kiss to your covered shoulder. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you.

💀💀💀💀💀

PART FIVE

tag list:

@princesssterek @derangedcupcake @furiouscopshepherduniversity @crucifixedbitch @holl2712 @sweet--catrastrophe @marvelsmylife @brittjulianne97 @few-proud-emotonal @zozebo @lovinnholland @adaydreamaway08

[captainwans]

DRUNK IN LOVE

credit for the owner of this gif!

pairing: bucky barnes x fem! reader

summary:

where she expresses her love for him in form of alcohol and playfulness.

word count: 1756

warnings: none; sweet rotting fluff, implied smut

masterlist!

“Y/N, we’re taking shots. It’s on me!” Natasha exclaimed through the loud music with a happy grin on her face, holding her hand as the pair went back to their friends. After a successful mission, the team wanted to celebrate and enjoy themselves since they haven’t been able to get a break nowadays due to being on missions and saving the world, and a party sounded very nice at the moment, but not in Y/N’s case. 

She wanted nothing more than to be in her boyfriend’s arms, watching their favorite show as they cuddled up on the couch and eating lots of ice cream. Guilt washed over the female, making her stomach churn at the thought of Bucky being alone at the compound, and she could’ve stayed with him, but Natasha, alongside others wanted her to have fun and loosen up for a little while.

“You sure you don’t wanna come, babe?” Y/N’s muffled sounds echoed through the bathroom. She put her hair into a bun, leaving a few hair strands in front of her face and applying lipstick, not noticing Bucky’s presence behind her, who was leaning against the doorframe. 

“I’m sure, doll. You go and have fun with the others,” he answered with a smile, watching her through the mirror before walking closer to her, sneaking his hands around her waist, hugging her from behind, and planting soft kisses onto her neck. “You’re beautiful.”

Her stomach fluttered, the warm feeling in her body making her cheeks turn red. Turning her body away from the mirror to face him, she let out a small groan, but still had a smile on her face, “I really don’t wanna go. Can’t I just ditch the others and be with you instead?” she whined, her lips forming into a pout.

Bucky chuckled and brought both of his hands to her face, “I don’t want you to go either, doll, but knowing Wanda, I won’t take the chance.” he admitted with a slight scoff, shuddering at the memory of Wanda getting into his head once and using that as payback for messing with her. 

Y/N let out a soft laugh, knowing all too well what he meant. “It wasn’t that bad,” she said, giving him a playful smile making him frown. “It was bad, Y/N. She’s basically the devil.” he dramatically argued making her playfully roll her eyes.

“I heard that, Barnes!” Wanda’s loud voice erupted down the hall, making the pair jump watching her entering their room. The Scarlet Witch gave Y/N a smile and a glare at Bucky, making him shake his head, “You see what I’m talking about?” he told his girlfriend with a look. 

“You guys, I swear to god. .” she mumbled under her breath before making her way to the closet to find a jacket. 

“Are the others ready, yet?” Y/N asked Wanda as she took on her jacket before making her way to Bucky, giving him a quick kiss. 

Wanda nodded her head, watching the pair share a kiss, making her scrunch her nose in disgust, “You’re the only one left. Now, hurry up. You can smooch your man later.” 

Thor’s laughter snapped her out of her daydreaming, watching Tony and Thor’s attempt at downing as many shots as possible, making her lip tug upwards as she shook her head at their playful banter. Natasha stood beside her, holding two glasses of alcohol, giving her a smirk.

“You ready to get wasted, Y/L/N?” the Russian assassin asked her with a smug expression on her face causing her to laugh. She took the drink from her hand and took a sip, coughing as the liquid burned down her throat. 

Wanda joined the pair shortly, bringing them to the dance floor. Y/N lost count of how many drinks she had consumed later that night, and she was all over the place which made Wanda cautious and skipped drinking to watch over her, amusement filling her eyes as she watched her best friend goofing around.

“Bucky’s gonna kill me..” Wanda muttered to herself, a smirk etched onto her face. 

The party was still going even though it was late, but the team decided to head back to the compound and call it a night. Wanda held Y/N arm and helped her up the stairs as they went up the tower with everyone trailing behind them. 

“B-Bucky m-must b-be worried, we’ve b-been g-gone for a while,” Y/N hiccuped, giggling as she hid her face onto Wanda’s shoulder. Wanda let out a soft chuckle, holding her hands as she listened to her slurry words.

The rest of the team said their goodnights and left the two girls alone, “I-I want B-Bucky, where is he?” she whined to her friend, pulling away from her grip and stumbled down the hallway. Wanda rolled her eyes and followed after her, making sure she didn’t face plant on the floor but stopped mid-way when she saw Bucky heading her way.

“Thanks, Wanda. I’ll take it from here,” he thanked the Scarlet Witch with a nod, making her smile, leaving the couple alone.

“Alright, doll. Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, his gaze softening as her eyes lit up at the sight of him. She giggled and jumped into his arms, making him stumble back with a small laugh. His hands were on her back, rubbing comfortably.

“Baby, hi. We were just talking about you,” she said in a high-pitched voice, and let out a gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oops, the others are sleeping,” she whispered to him, bringing her finger to his mouth. 

Bucky held her finger and kissed it before picking her up, carrying her to their room. She was still in her own world, ranting and gushing over her love for him. “You’re so cute, Buckaroo.” she cooed and held his face, squeezing his cheeks. He looked down at her, his smile never leaving his face. “Look at yourself, doll.” She kissed his nose and hid her face into his neck. 

Entering their room, he gently let her down and brought her to the bathroom to remove her makeup. With Y/N bickering and complaining, she soon gave up and let him take the charge. 

“You need help with that?” he asked her with a grin, watching her fiddling with the zipper behind her dress. She groaned and let out a gloomy sigh, “Get this off of me or I will throw hands.” she mumbled, but enough for him to hear.

With a chuckle he stood behind her, having a gentle hand on her back and unzipping the dress, making it fall down the floor with a small thud. He clenched his jaw as he took in her figure, her exposed skin making his stomach flutter. 

She turned around to met his flushed face and giggled, pulling him closer to her body. She closed the distance between them and brought him into a searing kiss. Their eyes closed and Bucky’s hands dropped to her waist, pulling her closer. Her hands slid up to his chest, deepening the kiss, sighing dreamily at his touch.

Before it could go any further, Bucky pulled away making her frown. Holding her face with his hands, he rested his forehead against hers, “You’re drunk, sweetheart.” he said against her lips, giving her another kiss before handing her one of his t-shirts. 

Y/N lips formed into a downwards pout, stumping her feet on the floor. “N-No, I’m not d-drunk,” she denied, slurring with her words as he helped her put the shirt over her head. 

Once she was clothed, she pulled him closer once again, puckering her lips, “Please?” she begged, giving him the puppy eyes he’s grown to love. She fiddled with his belt but groaned when he stopped her, his hands covering with hers and giving her a playful glare. 

“Not today, doll,” he said in a gentle tone. She looked down at her feet, her eyebrows furrowed. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her head, tears formed in her eyes, and looked up at Bucky, her eyes glistering with tears. “You d-don’t wanna sleep with me?” she sniffed, her glassy eyes staring into his. 

Bucky’s stomach twisted and brought you into his arms, “Hey, no, baby. I didn’t mean it like that.” he comforted her and rested his chin above her head, planting a kiss on her head. “You’ve had too much to drink and you’re not in the right state of mind right now,” he told her, pulling away.

His heart clenched and brought his hand to her face, wiping a tear from her face. She let out a gloomy sigh, “Buck, I’m sleepy.”

“Let’s get you to bed, then.” he helped her down the bed and joined shortly after, pulling the duvet closer to their bodies. She scooted closer to his side and laid her head on his chest, sleep consuming her. 

The next morning was the worst. It felt like her brain was shredded in bits and her body ached. Slowly opening her eyes, she let her eyes take in every ray of sunlight before moving her body to the side, blindly reaching to Bucky’s side, but found empty space instead.

Planting her face onto the pillow, she groaned, “Bucky?” the ex-assassin came right in, holding a glass of water and some Advil in his hands. He put them on the nightstand and sat down on the bed, his metal arm touching her skin making her shiver. 

“Morning to you too, doll. Here drink this it will ease the pain,” he told her before handing her a glass of water and painkillers. Groggily sitting up, she took the glass from his hands and swallowed the pill. 

Putting the glass back on the nightstand, she pulled Bucky down the bed, making him laugh as she pulled the duvet over their heads. She hid her face into his chest, hugging him tightly. He shifted his body to the side and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead. 

“Did I do anything stupid last night?” she asked, her hands fiddling at the end of his shirt. 

He let out a laugh, causing her head to shot up, giving him a concerned look. “You know what, I don’t wanna hear it. My head hurts and only your cuddles will help me right now.” she rephrased herself with a scoff.

“I could go with that.” he agreed with a grin, the butterflies in his stomach increasing. 

[forthechubbies]

What's Wrong With Secretary Park?!

Synopsis• If balancing work and a stubborn ex-husband isn't hard enough, Let's add the boss’s seven sons falling head over heels for her to mix.

Category's• Romcon, Comedy, Office Au.

Duos• BTS X Reader

A spin-off of the original series ‘ What's Wrong With Secretary Kim’ Bangtan Edition! Starring the Handsome, Seo-Joon Park as the Ex husband.

There will be more parts but I didn’t want the title to be to long.

EP. One Two

“ Mrs. Park, Good Morning!”

“Mrs. Park, What does my schedule look like today?”

“Mrs. Park, Your coffee keeps me alive.”

In case you haven’t noticed, Park Yn, I’m the secretary to Jeon Sung-ho, the CEO of Dnd Parmatech, 85 percent of the time, newly build hospitals or centers use our funds as kickstarts. Daily I make schedules, appointments, filing documents, answering calls, and blah blah blah.

Is it boring? Yes, I know. However, quite refreshing coming from my hectic marriage. Once upon a time, I was wedded to the marvelous actor Park Seo-Joon for three years. I sat in the limelight and even had the privilege to play the part of his wife in movies. Sigh. Although the attention and riches were grand, no amount of expensive counseling could save our marriage. We never saw eye to eye on anything, and his short temper wasn’t helping.

Knowing my worth, I packed up and left without a doubt in my head. However, The documentation of our separation wasn’t finalized due to a certain one refusing to sign off on the divorce agreement. So physically, I’m still Mrs. Park but ain’t no piece of paper telling who I belong too.

Whatever! I have too much to focus on already! Game on, Game on! First, I got to get these papers approved and signed by Mr. Jeon then-

Buzz Buzz Buzz!

Who’s calling-

Speak of the devil. I could have sworn I deleted his contact a long time ago! “ What Seo-Joon? I’m busy-“

“ When is this little temper tantrum going to end? Darling, I think you made your point.”

“My point?! Listen here, You slimy son of-” Now, Now Yn calm down calm down don’t let him get a rise out you that just what he wants. A quick exhale should do the trick. “ Seo-Joon, I believe we reached an agreed on no type of communication unless it revolves around the settlement for the divorce.”

How is it possible I can physically see his snarky face?

Seo-Joon stretched out his list of complaints.” It’s been over a year. I miss your kisses, soft skin, that cute birthmark on your-“

“ You will not talk about such embarrassing things over the phone!” Thank goodness, Nobody was around to hear me shot like that.

“Why is this divorce still an issue?!” There goes that temper again-How whinny can one man be? “ If you don’t stop this, I will take matters into my own hands.”

I laughed. “ Ha, Seo-jerk, I’m not scared of you! Do your worst because It doesn’t matter if you drag me back home; it doesn’t subside the problem being over our marriage.” I feel like a broken record at this point. “ If this isn’t about the papers, this conversation is over, Mr. Park; please refrain from calling me again, goodbye.”

He chuckled and mumbled something along the lines of, “ Your cute acting cheeky like this.” The rest he continued louder “ Those delicate hands of yours were made to indulge in the finest silk and satin I can obtain, not working nine to five at whatever job hired a housewife with zero work ethic. I just know I haven’t touched your side of the room since that night- I love you, Mrs.Park, I always will.”

He hung up. You know, after he finished insulting my new lifestyle and calling me a useless housewife, the ‘ I love you’ bit at the end sounds sincere, but he is an actor! Of course.

Hmph! Just because I’m working for myself for one doesn’t mean I’m miserable. I’m actually in love with my job, It pays well with benefits, and I sat on my butt all day. If that pompous little bedazzled turd thinks making me the butt of his jokes will get me back in his arms, he has another thing coming!

“Um, Mrs. Park?”

“ What!” I snapped. “ Oh, Hoseok, I’m sorry!” I bowed my head; the poor thing nearly jumped out of his shoes.

Hoseok beamed his warm heart-shaped smile at me. “ Oppa is having a family meeting today; I guess I’m the first to show.”

I wasn’t informed about a meeting today from Mr.Jeon, maybe because it’s a family affair.

“Tada!” He cutely squeaks. A tasteful package breakfast alongside a tall cup of what I presume is a coffee from..’ Thanks Nature’!

“Oh my- Hobi, this cafe is across town-”

“I overhead Oppa scolding you for skipping meals one day and I’m here to do the same, don’t skip meals or else We will be hurt if something happens to you.” Hoseok pointed at the pack. “ Eat every bit.”

Hoseok displayed a small heart using his index finger and thumb, hopping off to his father’s double doors.

Mr. Jeon has seven sons in all. The man is a true saint; men like him and his sons are why I still believe not all men are dogs. After losing his wife to heart cancer, He just about went bankrupt, donating all he had to have found cures to multiple diseases hoping nobody else had to suffer his same heartbreak.

Love found him again in an orphanage just north of here, ‘Seoul Children Home.’ His first son, Kim Seokjin, at the time Jin was already in his teenage years, making it difficult for him to find a family due to the high demand of couples wanting a single-digit child. His birth family mistreated him, but he was beaten everywhere except his face to keep his handsome appearance. The family decided to put his money-maker to fair use and attempted to sell him. Seokjin saw his opportunity and high-tailed, landing himself in the orphanage where he happily lends a helping hand every chance he got. He learned how to read, write, cook, clean, and even tend to the tots when the nuns were busy.

This is how he met his slightly younger brothers, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, and Kim Namjoon; when being chosen for adoption, Seokjin refused to live without his baby brothers by his side.

“ Hello, Noona!”

Oh, Look just in time, “ Hello, You’re father is in his office.”

Namjoon eyed my edible gift from Hobi and raised his eyebrow as well as a question. “ So this is why Hyung left so early in the morning for-and I hope you’re having a good morning, Noona.”

I’m not older than them. Why do they call me Noona? Do I look old!?

“ Yn, Good morning! How are you!” Jin greeted me with English this morning. He must have been practicing with Namjoon lately.

“ I’m Fine. Seokjin.”

“Chu.” He blew a kiss my way. “ You’re not fine. You’re amazeing.”

“Amazing.” Namjoon corrected for the sidelines.

“Same thing.”

“Pronunciation is everything, Hyung.”

They stopped halfway from their dad’s office. Jin grinned. Wait, I know that smile; oh no, here comes a dad joke.

“ Hey, Namjoon-You know the reason I took the elevator instead of the stairs?”

Namjoon sighed. “ No, why?”

"I don't trust stairs. They're always up to something." Jin burst out laughing and clapped his hands.

I giggled not from the joke, but Jin has a contagious laugh.

“See, Yn has good taste.”

A slow deep groan entered the office belonging to Yoongi, lagging. “ I heard that terrible joke from the elevator.” Yoongi waved and leaned against my desk. “ Good Morning.”

“Good Morning.”

There was an awkward pause before Yoongi tapped my desk and pointed to his dad’s office from walking that way.

“Yoon-Yoongi!?”

He turned back towards me.

“ I have something for you. I packed it up on the way here.” Getting off my butt, I walked up and gave him a bottle of his favorite black ice coffee. Ew. I don’t know how he drinks it with no cream or sugar.

Yoongi smiled his gummy smile. “ Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome.” And off he goes into the office as well.

Yoongi isn’t the biggest fan of human interaction, but he put forth an endeavor towards me, whether it’s a light ‘ Hi or Hello” or the simplicity of a wave. I admire his gusto. Sidenote, He’s so adorable-I know I know I shouldn’t be gushing over my boss’s son, but his chubby cheeks and almond eyes melt my heart like butter on toast!

Ahem-I better get back to answering those emails and drink this beautiful cup of expensive mud before it gets lukewarm. Yummy, The delectable taste is a boost of serotonin! I really should get to work buuut Hobi did command me to get every last bit and technically he is my boss through some type of weird relative aspect. He is the boss.

Just in a moment of seconds, The breakfast and drink was trash. Something that good should be sinful. I feel terrible I should have saved some for the babies; they would have some, especially Jungkook.

The babies should be here any minute.

[dracowars]

i read your first request and it’s AMAZING!! i loved it soo much, so i was wondering if you could write smth where y/n is dracos gf - they meet in his dorm room after class, but one day she’s super late and acting really weird, draco doesn’t bother, tries to comfort her, and maybe get a lil steamy, but she doesn’t want to.. he then discovers scaring on her hand, and she tells him that crabble sent her to umbridge for doing smth bad.. you can decide on the plot, those are just some ideas! xx

engraved | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,0k

summary: where y/n's visit to the new headmistress leads to a heated argument with draco

a/n: thank you very much for your kind words and for requesting, i really hope that you like it <3

warnings: a little steamy, angst, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

Trying to hold back the tears, you run down the sparse torch-lit corridors of Hogwarts, your footsteps echoing from the thick stone walls around you creating the only other sound besides your soft sobs. You press your left hand against your chest while you burst into the closest girls' bathroom, which is completely empty at this time, especially since Dolores Umbridge is in charge of the rules here.

It has been less than a month since she crept into school as the new headmistress and everything is already upside down. Students are allowed to walk around at a certain time only, detours between lessons are not acceptable at all, couples are almost no longer allowed to exist and actually, just all kind of fun and joy at Hogwarts has been extingusihed by her rules.

However, worst of all are the punishments for breaking any of Umbridge's thousand rules. Recently she has founded the so-called Inquisitorial Squad, a select group of students who help her to locate every kind of violations happening around the school. They sneak around the hallways on their hourly tours at night and report every so tiny thing to their new boss immediately. Most of these students are, of course, Slytherin's. Your boyfriend Draco was also offered to become a part of this squad, which he gladly accepted and was named its leader. You exactly know how perfect Draco fits into the role of the bad and ruthless leader, but still, you weren't very happy about it. After all, this woman is currently destroying your second home and he is helping her in a certain way.

Being the girlfriend of the Inquisitorial Squad's leader made you think that nothing can harm you, but oh, you were terribly wrong. Usually by this time in the early evening after your last course in Transfiguration you would already be in Draco's prefect dorm room, cuddling on his bed and just talking about your day. Because of the new established rules, you have to sneak into his room, trying to not get caught, but so far it has not been a very big problem. Even if someone of the other Slytherin's catches you, they will be far too scared of Draco to report it. But unfortunately everything took a different turn today.

During your Transfiguration lesson you had to admit that you forgot to do your homework, something that doesn't happen often but the current situation in Hogwarts burdens everyone, even the teachers, and on top of that you also came too late. Not that McGonagall was mad at you or anything, you are one of her best students after all, and a simple warning that it should not happen again was enough punishment in her opinion. Unluckily for you, Vincent Crabbe, one of your boyfriend's goons, is also in your class. And he definetely takes his job as an inquisitor a little too serious.

When you wanted to get out of the classroom, he suddenly got in your way and blocked it, waiting for everyone else to leave. At first you thought he was just trying to be funny again, you have never had a problem with each other in the first place. But apparently Crabbe prefers to receive an award from Umbridge to your friendship and the fact that you are in the same house didn't stop him in deducting twenty house points from his own house because you broke two rules. You never expected him to have a big brain, but that he even dragged you into Umbridge's office afterwards just because you forgot your homework in a class she is not even a part of, was even too stupid for a Vincent Crabbe.

And only then did it get really bad.

A tear has now found its way down your cheek, but you hastily wipe it away and run to the sinks in the girls' bathroom. You quickly turn on the faucet and hold your reddened, throbbing hand under the ice-cold water, your lips escapes a painful gasp. You squeeze your eyes shut at the pain and let the water run down your skin, hoping to soothen your aching flesh. What Umbridge did to you can no longer be considered a punishment, it was more of a torture.

As soon as Crabbe rudely pushed you into her disgusting pink office, he immediately received his desired reward and left you alone with this monster of a woman. This disgusting woman greeted you with a fake cunning smile and asked you to sit on one of the chairs at her table, the cats trapped in the pictures on every inch of the wall meowing in your ear. First you resisted against her request but soon realized that discussions with her are of no use and sat down after all.

With that peculiar high tone of hers, she handed you a black quill and then asked you to write 'I must not be late' onto the parchment until you memorize it. She also told you that you won't need any ink. With an annoyed roll of your eyes you straightend up your position, put the tip of the quill onto the paper and started writing. Not even spelling out the sentence one time, you felt a sharp pain on the back of your hand with every further letter you wrote down. As you took a look at your hand you noticed the exact words you just wrote were engraved on your skin.

Shocked, you glanced at Umbridge, but she just stood their with a smile on her face, shaking her head and shrugging. You figured out that the ink was made from your own blood and also that every word would only hurt more. And that is exactly what it did. She must have let you write that one single sentence down over fifthy times before she was sure you had learned your lesson.

You yourself didn't really care if you did, all you wanted to do was to get out of that hell as soon as possible. And now you are here, standing in absolute pain in front of an already broken mirror in a cold bathroom.

You have to blink a few times while looking up at the ceiling to hold back your tears and then you look at your injured hand again. You pull it out from under the running water for a moment, only to see that you are still able to perfectly read the words. The cold water did not really ease the pain, it almost feels like it has gotten worse. You lightly touch the reddend, blood smeared skin around the actual wound with your fingertip and just at the slightest touch you flinch and pull your hand back.

You don't know how long you stood there and held your hand under the water as suddenly a thought pops up in your mind: Draco. If he finds out about what happened, he will be furious. Also, he is probably already waiting for you for two hours, not that it is unusual for you to be late to your daily meetings with your boyfriend, you always get caught up by some work for school, but you never needed this long before. Is he already looking for you?

Without waisting another thought, you close the tap again, dry your hand very gently and then go out of the girls' bathroom, always careful not to run into the next squad member's arms and get sent back to the devil itself. Fortunately, you manage to find your way to the common room without getting caught, only once imagining that you heard Mrs. Norris. After you have said the password successfully, you enter the, luckily, empty room.

You quickly make your way to Draco's prefect dorm room, pulling the sleeve of your cloak - or as you have just noticed because of the large size, Draco's cloak - over your wounded hand so that it remains hidden. All you want is to be hugged now and comforted by him and not that he gets upset and angry and probably storm to Umbridge's office right away. Softly, you knock on the door and take in a deep breath, before it is opened vigorously.

Immediately you are pulled into the room, the door behind you is closed, even locked, and you get pressed against it with your back. In front of you is none other than your incredibly handsome boyfriend whose eyes seek eye contact with you in an instant. "Where were you?", Draco asks in a calm voice, gently stroking his fingertips over your cheeks to your chin, causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.

"I-I was held in Transfiguration. I had to catch up on some tasks and I forgot the time. I'm sorry, Draco", you lie into his face, really not wanting to tell him anything about what happend. "You made me wait a long time for you today, are you aware of that, darling?", he reminds you with a cheeky grin, his face slowly coming closer to yours. You know exactly what that look, that expression in his suddenly darker eyes means. He moves the hand that is not under your chin over your side and lets it stay on your hip. "But that is no problem, love. We still have enough time.."

With these words he then connects your lips into a hungry kiss, pressing you more against the door to his room. His hand on your hip squeezes you harder and he runs his other hand down to your neck. His firm grip makes you gasp, only earning a deep chuckle from the platinum haired boy.

For this brief moment in which he caught you off guard by slamming his lips onto yours, you had forgotten everything around you, but it did not last long and suddenly all the experiences come back into your head. Not wanting to continue this, you put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away from you but you only manage to break the kiss, which does not please him at all.

"I'm really not in the mood today, Draco", you explain, hoping that he will understand, like he usually does. "You will be, just wait and see", he winks playfully, absolutely not noticing the seriousness in your voice. Before you can say anything you only see the corners of his mouth curl up and next thing you know is he's attacking your neck, sucking and nibbling at that specific spot behind your ear.

Because of the actually pleasing feeling, you put more pressure on Draco's upper arms, which you are now unintentionally holding onto. "D-Draco", you softly whimper as he takes off your green tie and starts unbuttoning your white blouse, his rough kisses slowly wandering to your collarbone. "Please, Draco, stop", you manage to bring out, clearer than previously, but he ignores your request and just continues with what he is doing.

"We both know that you don't want me to stop", Draco whispers in your ear and connects your lips again, this time even rougher, not giving you the opportunity to say anything. It takes you a few seconds until you, in fact, try to relax under his touch and let yourself go, tilting your head to one side so he has even more access to the sensitive skin on your neck, which is already bluish.

But you just can't. You can't force yourself to do this after the horrifying encounter with Umbridge.

With a strong, forceful push you manage to shove Draco away from you ungently, a shocked and kind of annoyed expression plastered upon his face. "I said stop, Draco!", you practically scream at him, his forehead furrowed as the tears well back into your eyes. You want to pass him and go to his bed, but he quickly grabs your wrist and stops you. Immediately you harshly swat your hand away.

"Let me go and just leave me alone! You are always so insensitive!", you yell at him again, the emotions taking over your actions, but this time the tears find their way down your cheeks and only now Draco notices your change of appearance, how puffy your cheeks are and how your eyes are swollen and bloodshot, as if you had already cried before coming to his room.

Crying, you lie down on his bed, facing the wall so that your back is facing him. Draco frowns for a moment when he sees your devastated figure trembling from your heavy sobs. You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your crying, but that only makes it worse. You can feel the mattress sink down beneath you as Draco lies down beside you, not touching you in the slightest.

A few minutes pass in which noone speaks, only your crying can be heard throughout the silence of the room. Your desperate attempts to calm yourself down and wipe away your recurring tears fails dramatically. Draco, on the other hand, lies next to you motionless, his head propped up on his elbow. If there is one thing in this entire traumatic enough world that he hates the most, it definetely is seeing you, the love of his life, his soulmate, cry. He would love to punch himself for not noticing how bad you are feeling sooner. Feelings of guilt start to plague him and he doesn't know what to do, if you even want to be touched by him anymore, especially in this fragile state.

Nevertheless, Draco finally decides to approach you slowly by stroking your hair gently and carefully to not scare you. He just wants to show you that he is here for you, that he is by your side, even if you may not feel like talking right now. When he notices that you are not resisting his touch, he runs his fingertips over your arm, trying to comfort you somehow without it being too much. And when you don't fight against that either, Draco suddenly wraps his arms around your still shaking body from behind and presses you tightly against him.

"Please don't cry, sweetheart", he softly whispers into your ear, lifting his head so he gets a glimpse of your face from the side. "Please stop..", he almost begs and feels tears pricking in his own eyes now as well. He has seen you cry a few times already, but never this much. It breaks his heart. "I'm here for you, angel."

In his strong and protective arms, tightly secured around your waist, you finally manage to calm down at least a little bit and turn around to face him. You don't dare to look at him with your probably disfigured face from all the crying, but Draco has other plans. He puts a hand on your cheek, guiding your face up to make you look at him. In your shiny, pain-ridden eyes, he is trying to find an answer to your condition, not wanting to pressure you to tell him if you don't want to.

"D-Draco", you stutter out between your sobs. "Shh..", he hushs you softly, his left hand stroking up and down your side in order to comfort you. "Take it easy, okay? Breathe in deeply. Whatever happened, I'm here for you. I protect you. Always."

Knowingly, you nod and wipe away some tears again, Draco helping you with his thumb. When you let your hand drop again, he catches your hand in his gently and wants to intertwine your fingers as his gaze falls on the still reddened wound on the back of your hand. His eyes widen as he sees the wound consisting of words painfully engraved into your skin. His mouth opens in pure shock. "What is that? Who did this to you, Y/N?!"

With a sad gasp you quickly pull your hand away, the expression on his face immediately falling since you are avoiding his touch and don't trust him with this. Only at seeing your scared face Draco notices that his last words became a bit louder and he is quick to pull you into a comforting hug again. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to scare you", he apologizes and places a kiss on your hair. "You know that you can tell me everything, Y/N. But if you don't want to, then at least show me your injury again please."

Silently, you escape his grip and lift your hand for him to see. He carefully examines the back of your hand, looking into your eyes here and then to see if his touch hurts. "U-Umbridge", you sob while he is still busy viewing your wound. At your words he raises an eyebrow in surprise.

"I-I was late for class and forgot my homework and then.. and then Crabbe sent me to her office. She.. She did-", you try to explain, but just can't find the right words. Draco caresses your cheek gently, apparently understanding what happened.

"I will kill her", Draco grinds his teeth, obviously fighting himself to hold back the anger that is currently raising inside of him like a burning flame. This woman dared to lay a hand on you and put you in such a state. And Crabbe won't get away with this either. Because of the tremendous anger, Draco is already getting up from the soft mattress, ready to fight.

"Please s-stay with me, Draco", you entreat him, not wanting to loose the warmth of his body next to you that manages to calm you down. At your words, his tense body relaxes and the boiling fire inside of him diminishes, but only slightly. Just because of you he's not already on his way to her office and give her hell.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry you had to go through this alone and I'm sorry for my behavior earlier", Draco starts to ramble, feeling guilty for not being able to protect you.

"You couldn't know. I-I really don't want to talk about it anymore.. Can you please just hold me, Draco?", you sob and he does what you asked him to do right away. His arms pull you closer to him and the delicate, fragrant scent that emenates from him calms you down, lowering your cries.

"I will never let you go", Draco whispers quietly, reassuring you that he will defintely never let you get hurt again. Not on his watch even if that means that he has to stick to you every second from now on, then so it will be.