#I need him to quit being an asshole and go into more of that hurt/comfort section of this fic

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two

A03

It ain’t much.” Wayne started, half-curious if the sight of his trailer would be the thing to offend Steve’s (so far lacking) born-rich sensibilities. 

Of course turning to look at the kid proved he was in his own head about this more than Steve was, because Steve had his eyes closed and looked two seconds away from puking. 

Right. 

Pain management. 

“I’ll get your stuff.” Wayne said as he guided the truck to its usual parking spot. 

Steve’s quiet ‘okay’ had him hustling a little bit, and the fact he had to gently guide the kid’s hand off his bag handle told him it was the right choice. 

The nailbat could wait in the car for the moment he figured, as he led Harrington in. He’d get it sorted once he’d fished out the pain pills and gotten Steve settled a bit. 

"Eds--he's my nephew that I told you about--has the bedroom, so you and I get to share out here." Wayne explained as he loaded Steve up on Tylenol and put a bag of frozen peas in his hand, not bothering to give a tour of the trailer. 

It was pretty damn clear which door led to the bathroom and which didn’t, given Ed’s door was wide open. 

Steve peeked at the absolute chaos strewn about beyond the doorframe but didn’t say nothing of it. 

Didn’t, in fact, even look too long, instead sitting at the table as directed. 

Seemed to sink a little into it, leaning an elbow on the cheap wood to help keep his head up. 

"The couch is a pull out, but I'll warn you the bar across the middle is nasty. I usually sleep on the cot over there," Wayne nodded to where it was rolled neatly against the opposite wall, "but given the state of you, I'll let ya have your pick." 

Steve blinked (or winked, not like Wayne could tell since the peas were pressed against half of his face) finally seeming to perk up a bit. "I can't take your bed." 

"I'm not going to fight you for it, I'm just offering." Wayne responded, now focused on trying to locate the bandages in his ancient medical kit. 

The one on Steve's hand was falling apart, and he didn't like the look of the injury he could see under it. 

Yeah, Wayne was absolutely going to need to make a run to the store. 

“Lemme see.” He asked as he finally got what he wanted. 

It seemed to take Harrington a minute to process what Wayne wanted, but he finally held out his injured hand, watching as Wayne unwrapped the bandages.

"I'll take the couch." Steve said stubbornly, but Wayne was past it, too busy frowning at the kid's hand. 

It took him a moment, once he'd gotten it all off, to properly realize what he was seeing--that the mottled bruising on Steve's wrist was separate from the cut across his palm.

In fact, it looked a hell of a lot like…

Wayne paused, then pretended to fuss with the dirty bandages for a moment while his eyes sought out Steve's other wrist.

Sure enough, matching bruises.

Someone had tied the kid up--and it hadn’t been the feds, because these bruises were partially healed. 

Wayne had initially thought of Steve as having been tortured in the same way roving bands of neighborhood kids tortured their peers. The kind of hurt that came when it was an unfair fight; four on one and wielding knives, so you had to take what you were given and pray you didn't get stabbed. 

He was not thinking actual, honest to God torture. 

Yet here the evidence was, plain as day.

'What the hell went down in that mall.' 

Someone as young as Steve shouldn't have been caught up in it, and it made a deep part of Wayne ache for the poor kid across from him.  

All this shit, and his parents still couldn't be bothered to come home.Just left him on his own, as if it was another Tuesday. 

Did they even know? Wayne wondered as he got to work. Had Steve, or Hopper, or anyone tried to call them about the mallfire? Let them know their son got hurt?

Jim said he hadn’t bothered to reach out regarding the spooks, but that had been a week or so later past the fire. 

Wayne couldn’t even imagine it. 

Getting a call that Eddie been involved in such a thing would have him off the couch in an instant, and the image that played on the news, the ones all the reporters talked over of a gurney being wheeled out of Starcourt’s on fire front doors…

He’d have been a wreck until he had his kid in his sights. 

‘Nothing you can do for that,’ Wayne figured silently, ‘but you can help him now.’

Wayne wasn't exactly an expert when it came to wound care, but like many people who just couldn't afford to go to a doctor he'd gotten by.

Learned a lot of home remedies. Figured out pretty quick when something needed to be seen by an expert and when you could hold off.

Made friends with some of the local nurses on the night shift down at the Red Barn, well enough that a few well baked treats and dishes could sometimes be traded for looking over a potentially broken arm or two. 

It had come in handy plenty, given Ed’s ability to attract trouble, but thankfully he’d never managed to hurt himself like this. 

He’d never even gotten caught in a bad fight. 

A black eye or two sure, but the kid had adapted his “scary” act not too long after Wayne had gotten him, and it seemed to work as intended. It was half the reason Wayne never said anything about it (and hell, even let Eddie take his ancient leather motorcycle jacket.) .

All of that was to say that he could tell Harrington's hand needed cleaning before it could be rebandaged, but didn't appear to need stitches. 

Course pouring alcohol all over an injury like this wasn't exactly going to be fun, and he told Steve as such.

"I know." Steve replied, with a grimace. The kid’s injuries seemed to be getting to him, and Wayne anticipated he was going to drop here the second Wayne was done looking him over. 

He hoped Harrington could get in a few hours--particularly before Eddie came home. 

Wayne gently wiped it clean, noting how well Steve sat given the amount of pain he had to be in.

Tylenol, even given the more than recommended amount he'd given Steve, just wasn't going to cut it. 

Not in general, and definitely not for this. 

What could help was likely something Eds had, which was yet another conversation Wayne wasn't looking forward to having.

Particularly given that Eds had sworn off selling hard drugs after his last encounter with Hopper, and Wayne knew damn well that had only lasted until the damn kid caught sight of an overdue bill. 

Too smart for his own good, Eddie was.

"I can give you something to bite down on, if you like." Wayne said to Steve, getting the alcohol and bandages ready to go. 

He got a tight smile in response. "So long as you don't use a needle, I'm good." 

And Wayne figured it was just teenager talk--a young man who didn't really know how bad this was going to be, and prepared himself to hold Steve's arm down accordingly so they wouldn't have to do it twice.

"Four." Wayne counted down. "Three. Two."

He poured on two.

Better that than Steve clenching up in anticipation.

Steve hissed, arm jerking, but stilled it under his own power as Wayne began dabbing his hand with some of the medkit’s wipes. 

He felt his eyebrow raise as Harrington froze himself in place, breathing in a way that felt practiced. 

This, Wayne decided, was not Steve's first rodeo. 

"Almost done." He promised softly as he finished wrapping the wound back up, this time in the pattern he'd been shown long ago. 

"Thanks." Steve said, blinking rapidly. 

The kid's eyes were wet, but he didn't let a tear fall, and that perked Wayne's attention more than anything. 

Some men felt they weren't allowed to cry--and pushed the same ideals on their sons. 

It wouldn't surprise him any if Richard Harrington was one of them. 

"I know you got hit more than just your hands and face kid." Wayne said, after letting Steve have a moment to recover. "You bleeding under that shirt?"

"Not bleeding." Steve murmured, looking more and more like he was struggling to stay upright now that the worst part was over. "I think my hand got the worst of it."

"Do I want to know what happened there?" Wayne asked, keeping his voice calm and non judgemental. 

Like they were back to talking sports.

"I fell back into a broken window.” Steve responded, and now that Wayne had seen the kid lie, it was easy to see when he was telling the truth. 

"Ouch." Wayne said flatly. Which made that hint of a smile flash across Steve's face. 

"I'll cut you a deal. I taped last weekend's game, but haven't had time to watch it yet. I figure you might not have had a chance neither." He sat back, nailing Harrington with a no-nonsense stare. "You let me take a look at what they did to your chest n' back there, and I'll put it on."

Steve just looked at him a little miserably, a beaten dog still hesitant to wag its tail. "I don't think there's anything you can do for it, it's really mostly bruised. Nothing feels broken though."

"You know what broken ribs feel like?" Wayne questioned partially out of curiosity but mostly to make sure.

Teenage boys loved to think themselves immortal after all.

Or at least his did.

"Cracked, but yeah." Steve admitted. "Couldn't finish out the year on the basketball team because of it."

He said it like it didn't hurt, but Wayne knew better.

Boy like Steve? 

He'd bet big bills something like basketball was all the kid really had, in terms of positive relationships.

(Except apparently, whatever had made Hopper decide to look after him.)

"I mostly just wanna make sure nothing looks like it's broken or bleeding internally son." Wayne said, then tried to cinch it with some good old guilt tripping. "I'd hate to have to tell Hopper that after all he went through to keep you safe, you up and died on my couch." 

"Hey, it might save him some future gray hairs." Steve responded but he looked a little more open to the idea, at least. 

It took a bit more coaxing, but Wayne finally got the kid to take his shirt off. 

The damage had him whistling out of instinct.

A fucking artist had gone to town on his torso, with bruised of all shades parading around to his left side. 

Thankfully most of it didn't hold that deep, dark tone that indicated any kind of bleeding, his back had scratches and road rash, and his shoulder had one long, thin line that looked a hell of a lot like Steve had narrowly avoided getting cut with a knife. 

"You got lucky, kid." Wayne told him.

Steve let out a shaky breath. "I know." 

He hesitated, then opened his mouth, a question clear on his face. 

Which of course, was the exact moment Eddie chose to walk through the door. 

"Hey old man, I--Harrington!?" 

"Munson?" Steve said, looking just as confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here?" Eddie had frozen in their little entryway, so close the door nearly whacked him on the ass as it slammed closed. 

Privately, Wayne cursed his nephew's awful timing.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie challenged back, and it was only years of Wayne knowin’ the kid to see he was struggling to decide how he wanted to react. 

“Uh…” Steve said, trailing off and looking pointedly at Wayne. 

Eddie saw this just as he registered all of Steve’s injuries. “Shit Wayne, did you hit him with your car?” 

“Don’t try to be funny, boy.” Wayne warned. There wasn’t much bite there, and Eddie, far too used to him, didn’t take it seriously.

Eddie was glued to the spot, eyes narrowing, “... Did Harrington hit the car with his fuckin’ face? Jesus christ.” 

Wayne could tell he was struggling to pull one of his usual little bits, eyes too wide and voice too high. 

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Eddie.”

“We can take him out back and shoot him, put the poor bastard out of his misery.” Eddie continued, like a runaway train. 

All gas, no breaks. 

It was a joke but a poor one, and it made Steve straighten out of his sideways slant. 

‘Dammit.’  Wayne thought with a sigh. 

He needed to stop this now, before the two of them went for each other's throats. 

“Since you already know each other I won’t bother with introductions.” Wayne cut in, before Eddie could blow up like a tea kettle--or cause Harrington to do the same. “Steve’s gonna be staying with us for a while.”

That of course, got the reaction Wayne had been hoping to avoid. 

Eddie stood stunned for a second, mouth gaping like a fish. 

“Why!?” He finally landed on, seeming both at a loss for words, and equally trying not to have a proper meltdown in front of Steve. 

Certainly wasn’t for Wayne’s benefit. 

"I'm…" Steve glanced at Wayne a second time, "...on vacation?"

 It took everything Wayne had in him not to run a hand down his face. 

He was going to give Harrington a pass, on account of the head trauma.

"You’re vacationing here.”Eddie’s tone was flat, but seething, like a lit fuse. “In my living room?” 

“...Yeah?” He finished poorly tone up-ticking at the end like it was a question. “It’s a--college thing. Supposed to help my applications.” 

This time, Wayne did run a hand down his face this time. 

God save him from idiot teenagers. 

Hands clenched tight, Eddie took an aborted glance to the right before shaking his head hard and scoffing. At least it let Wayne know exactly what his kid was thinking. 

To Eddie’s right was the counter where Wayne kept the bills. 

Before he realized just how badly Ed’s daddy had messed him up about such things, Wayne hadn’t bothered to hide the bills that were past due. Turns out the kid noticed such things, and worry over money had been the leading factor in more than one of Eddie’s run-ins with Hop.

Clearly, he thought it was the cause of Wayne entertaining this bullshit. 

Offense was written in every rigid line of his body, and Wayne knew betrayal wasn’t gonna be far behind. 

“What the hell Wayne!” Eddie spat, taking a singular step forward, the accent he tried so hard to hide growing thicker the madder he got. “We’re not a damn experiment--why would you agree to that!?” 

He had seconds to salvage this, before Ed’s ran and did something dumb. 

“‘Steve’s here cause I owe Hopper a favor.” Wayne answered honestly, standing to put himself between the two. “He reminded me of all the times he’s been good to you, and then he called it in. Now,” 

He cut Eddie off before his rant could pick up steam and bowl them all over. “I need you both to listen to me. Steve, I need Eddie to know the basics in order to keep you safe. I’ll only tell him what he needs to hear to understand why that is.” 

Steve stared at him for a moment, catching Wayne’s eye as the elder man positioned himself so he could see both boys at once.

“Okay.” Steve said, dropping the hesitant tone for something serious. 

Eddie said nothing, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and gripping the edges of his jacket hard enough to leave creases. 

Judging that as good enough, Wayne continued. “He’s not here on vacation, Ed’s. Hopper has asked us to house Steve for a bit due to an ongoing situation. It’s a dangerous one, and it’s important you do not tell anyone that Steve is here.”

Eddie’s mouth did the thing it did when he desperately wanted to say something, but Wayne held up a finger in the universal “wait.” position. 

“Let me finish.” He warned, and though he caught a hell of a glare for it, Eddie remained silent. 

“Right now I need you to trust me, son.” He said softly, and prayed that alone was enough for now. “I don’t do things without a good reason behind it. I know you know that. Let me get Steve settled, and I’ll come talk to you.” 

He could go in depth a little more, outside of Harrington’s eyesight. There Eddie would be inclined to drop the parts of his personality he put on blast as a defense mechanism, and ideally, Steve could get the sleep he so desperately needed. 

“It’ll be tight, but we’ll all get through this so long as you two keep your heads. “You both got plenty of problems right now on your own, you don’t need to add to it. You understand?”  

Eddie’s eyes narrowed dramatically as he sucked in a deep breath. 

“Fine.” He snarled, letting air hiss through his clenched teeth. “As long as King Dick here can keep himself out of my shit.”

Steve didn’t rise to the bait--or perhaps, was simply too tired to want to do anything but exit the conversation. 

‘Yes Sir.” He said instead, and Wayne didn’t bother correcting him that time. Simply clocked the title as a nervous tick of Steve’s and let himself feel that brief pang of sorrow that he’d caused the kid to backslide a bit trust wise.

No use for it, though.

Not if he wanted peace in his home. 

“Good.” Wayne said. 

Eddie stormed past, beeling towards his room. 

The door closed with an angry slam, the sound echoing throughout the trailer. 

Steve reacted like a puppet with its strings cut, letting out his own breath and going right back to slumping sideways. 

“Come on kid.” Wayne said quietly. “I think it’s beyond time you got to lay down. Let’s get you a shirt and some blankets.”

Steve didn’t say a word, just managed to get himself up and over to the couch, fumbling for his bag. 

“Oh.” He said after a moment, pulling a green sweater from the duffel and blinking dully at it. “Shit--I mean, shoot.” He shot a guilty look to Wayne, like Eddie hadn’t just sworn up a storm in front of them both. 

“What’s the matter?” Wayne just asked. 

“It’s nothing, I just-- grabbed the wrong bag.” Steve told him earnestly. It was clear the day had taken a hard toll on him, because he was blinking rapidly, fighting away sleep. 

A bad sign, given the energy Eddie had just come in with. 

It should be taking him longer to feel safe to drop off, and that he was doin’ so anyway was a bad testament to the state of him. 

“You need a different one?”

Steve shook his head. “No this is just my grab bag for the Upsi-errrm.” He hummed, before falling silent for a minute. 

Wayne let him fish for words at his leisure. 

“These are just clothes that I couldn’t get stains out of, kept them as backups.” Steve managed, before beginning the long process of pulling a shirt on. 

Wayne almost offered to help, except he knew he’d likely be rejected. It was too soon, the trust between them not there yet. 

He almost let the clothing comment go, figured it as  just one of those things the brain did when it was injured and run down. The sweater Steve was struggling with was expensive and soft, and Wayne didn’t even see a stain until the poor kid finally finished getting it on. 

He nearly froze, for the second time that day, when he did.

On one sleeve, smeared like Steve had wiped his face with it, was a bloodstain. 

This one was old, and clearly attempts had been made to get it out. 

‘Aw kid.’ He thought, staring at Steve as the kid managed to swing himself up on the couch, looking seconds away from dropping off. ‘What the hell has life done to you.’

It didn’t take long before sleep took him, but Wayne watched over him for a bit longer anyway, working up to what the hell he was going to tell his kid. 

Eddie might very well not forgive him for this, but Wayne had a shot now to head things off before they got worse. 

He just had to find the right words. 

[angelltheninth]

The Lion King's Fangs

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, hurt/comfort, protectiveness, getting into fights, soothing kisses, growling, confessions, threats

Word count: 2.4k

Flufftober Day 19: Keeping Someone Safe

A/N: This flufftober prompt really got me going, Leona is perfect for it.

Being part of Leona’s Pride was full of positives. Maybe not many would think so because of his usually rude and holier then though attitude but it was all just surface level things. No many bothered to try to look underneath so of course they had the wrong idea of him. He was loud when he wanted to be, he could dominate room with just a glance and he held himself in very high regard due to his royal status. You hate to admit it but you were one of those people who thought he was just an asshole. That was way before you were placed in the same Dorm and got to know your Dorm Leader better, before the rumors started too.

Leona was used to rumors about him, he’d been used to them since he was little. They used to bother him a lot more back then, but now he couldn’t care less about the things people say about him. They could think what they want, in fact if they’re scared of him they’re more likely to leave him alone.

On the other hand there was you, who was never involved in much gossip. You would hear things about the Dorm Leaders just like everyone else, you knew which ones were more or less approachable, Leona was not on the approachable list so you stayed in your own lane. When you joined the Savanaclaw dorms you noticed a lot more people talking about you, well you and one other person: Leona Kingscholar.

The rumors didn’t bother you much at first, but they did allow you to see a whole other side of Leona that you hadn’t seen before. The more people talked the closer he stuck to you, it was both a blessing and a curse in your case.

Blessing because you got to see that he wasn’t actually all that scary to be around. He was a bit of a softie underneath all that rough exterior, but that part of him was very well hidden, mostly coming out when he’d ask you to keep watch while he took a nap. Leona talked in his sleep a lot, he talked about you too, his mumbling made your heart skip a beat more than once in a day.

“She’s walking out of the gardens again with that blush on her face. They must be-”

“Hey! Quiet down, you how much he hates the rumors. Kingscholar clearly doesn’t want anyone knowing about it if they have to sneak around.” Another student commented to the first, both trying not to look in your direction and failing.

“Not a very well kept secret.” The two may have thought you weren’t able to hear them but you heard every word they said. Some were quieter than the others but eventually every rumor made it’s way to you and Leona.

Worst part was that they weren’t true at all. There was nothing happening between the two of you except for friendship. You helped him out with exams sometimes but that was it. Or more accurately you helped him stay focused on studying for them. Leona’s room was quite a way from yours so he would always walk you back, often late at night, which didn’t make the gossip any better.

You tried not to let it get to you and go about your day as usual.

Classes were usually the calmest period for you, it was what came after that was the problem. Leona liked to wait for you along with Ruggie and Jack, and then walk back to the dorms. “Have a good time in class today?” Ruggie was the most talkative of the group, walking backwards, hands behind his head, not a care in the world.

“It was fine. I’m more worried about next week.”

“Ugh. Exams. Don’t remind me.” Leona yawned already feeling boredom setting in.

Jack was the furthest up front, only his ears showing he was listening. He was also the one who took studies seriously, other then you so he appreciated having the extra helping hand. “You’re the one who should be reminded the most.”

“Huh? What was that? Think I’m dumb? I don’t need anyone’s help to pass.” Leona shouted all too loud, all eyes on the four of you.

“Bet he wants a helping hand from her.” A guy commented to one of his buddies while the other made a crude pumping gesture. Both Ruggie and Jack scoffed at their behavior and looked at you. You tried not to pay them any mind, but it was getting increasingly more difficult the more vulgar their words became. Leona’s ears twitched uncomfortably at them.

Yes, you did help Leona study, but that was all that ever happened, studying. The fact that he would pat you on the head after or buy you lunch the next day were completely separate issues, even his flirting was never that serious, he enjoyed teasing you like a cat would a mouse. Clearly that wasn’t how everyone else saw it.

Leona looked down at you, at your red ears and the way you chewed on your bottom lip and gripped your bag, he knew you didn’t find any of it funny, and neither did he. Teasing was fine, but there are lines that should not be crossed with his Pride, this was one of them.

“Wanna say that again?” Leona stopped abruptly and turned to glare at the group.

“Leona, it’s fine, it doesn’t- let’s just leave.” You whispered to him as you grabbed the bottom of his uniform. This was gonna make more of a scene then it already was. With the kind of reputation Leona already had, that he got into fights, verbal and physical, he didn’t need to add anything to his record, and neither did you. “They’re just talking.”

“They’re being disrespectful. You, tough guy, come over and apologize!” No one insulted his friends, no matter what that was the one rule he always upheld.

The group shrugged among themselves and one of them approached, “Oh I think the little lady can speak for herself hm? We’re just saying what she’s thinking. Everyone here knows that the only reason she joined the dorm was cause of you. Isn’t that right?” He all but leered at you while he spoke. Everyone could tell this was about to get ugly so they stayed away as much as they could, not wanting to get involved in the conflict.

Not that you blamed them, if you weren’t Leona’s friend you’d stay away too.

You could hear him growling, clenching his teeth, his fists shaking with anger at the assumptions made. “Leona, leave him, come on man, he’s not worth the time.” Jack put his hand on Leona’s shoulder while Ruggie closed in on you, standing protectively behind you.

“Oh come on, his Highness can finally stop chasing, he’s finally got someone chasing after him. Must feel nice for you.” Now even the guy’s friends looked weary and Leona, he looked ready to kill.

“Motherfucker.” Leona started marching toward him, fists clenched at his sides, “I’m gonna- ow! Fuck!” You acted as fast as you could, pulled him back by the first thing you could grab: his tail, his weak spot. “Ouch!” Leona snatched it back from you with a growl.

“Or maybe she’s the one who as you wrapped around her finger. And here everyone thought you only like her cause she does whatever you tell her to like a puppy.” A hard fist connected to his face before you could hold Leona back, in fact judging by the deep green fury in his eyes, nothing could hold him back now.

Except for the Principal who broke up the fight almost as soon as it started but Leona still managed to get a few punches in. Upon examining the situation it was determined that he was indeed provoked, but both parties had detention for the rest of the month. This was a better outcome then being suspended, and it was likely done because Leona had already failed this exam quite a few times before.

“You shouldn’t have fought with that guy. He was being a jerk, it’s not I haven’t dealt with those before. Besides it got you in trouble with the Principal too.” Leona didn’t try to shoo you away when you brought the first aid kit over and started wrapping up his hands. His had a bruise too, right next to his lip, but it wasn’t that bad compared to the other guy. “But… thank you, for standing up for me. You didn’t have to get violent though.”

“It was the only language guys like him understand. Once they’ve been put in their place they’re quiet. I made an example out of him, that’s all there is to it. He deserved it anyways, for all the shit he was saying about you. Has this been a thing? You know, for a while now?” Your hands paused as they tied the final knot on the bandages. You didn’t look at him but could feel the heat of his emerald eyes on you. “So it has. How long? Who was it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because they don’t know what they’re talking about.” It was a lousy excuse but it didn’t seem like something that you needed to bother him with, “It’s just rumors Leona. They’ll pass as soon as they find something else to talk about.”

He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together, immediately hissing at the stinging bruise, “You should have told me. I don’t like you getting treated like that. You’re in my Dorm now, so your well-being is my responsibility too. I may not be next in line to be King but I know how to take care of my own.” Leona’s features softened as he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, “Next time, when something like that happens, you come straight to me okay? That’s an order.”

It was things like this that blurred the lines between friendship and something more between you two. You couldn’t blame others for thinking you were his girlfriend when he sometimes acted very much like a boyfriend would, it confused you a great deal.

“Your heart’s racing.” He grinned a sharp toothy smile, “Do you like it when I act protective over you?”

“Huh? Where did that come from?! What? Why are you- don’t change the subject now!” You could feel your face getting hot at his words and actions. You were used to Leona’s teasing but it never came directly after something as adrenaline inducing as a fight.

“I heard the rumors too you know, that we’re dating or sleeping together or whatever. Never figured it’d be taken to this degree, usually when people gossip about me they shut the fuck up the moment they notice me. This was the first time someone’s had the balls to throw words like that in my face. I could have taken that if that was all there was. But not when he insulted you too. You’re… important to me.” Leona moved his lips from your hand to your wrist where he pressed another kiss. “I like it when we spend time together, I don’t want to stop hanging out with you because of silly rumors.”

“Oh.” If possible your face grew even hotter at his protective stance and the admission that he enjoyed your company a lot. It almost sounded like a… “Is this a confession? Is the great Leona Kingscholar confessing?”

His ears flickered back and forth, eyes widening. He wasn’t about to be backed into a corner by you, teased by you, he was supposed to be the cool one here. He was the one who got into a fight for you, opened up to you, and now he’s the one getting teased? Not on his watch. Leona grabbed you with both hands, your wrists secured in his grip and pulling you forward and making you stumble, almost colliding with him, “What if I was?” His half-hooded eyes drifted down to your lips, his parting with a smirk, approaching your shaking ones. “Would you want to do a different kind of weekend study session? I can be a great teacher for certain things.” With inches left between your lips you had moments to decide the outcome.

This might be your only chance to kiss him, even if it was a joke on his part, why not take it?

You leaned forward, closing those last inches between you and pressed your lips against his. He wasn’t surprised at all, which meant that his words earlier weren’t a joke either. And the reason he reacted the way he had was… “You like me?”

“Stupid. Think I get into a fist fight just like that? I’m not a complete brute.” His hands dropped from your wrists to the small of your back where he locked his fingers together.

“But the way you spoke earlier…”

“I care about my friends. But I don’t get into fights for them. Maybe I would if it ever came to that, but you’re the only one… fuck… I feel like an idiot having to explain this. This is why I don’t like talking to people about this sensitive shit.” This sensitive shit being his emotions of course.

You knew how guarded he was, and how easy it was to make him close in on himself so you took his approach instead, “Okay. Then we won’t.” Leona perked up almost right away and started leaning in for the second kiss, “Until you pass the exams next week. That should give you plenty of time to sort things out.” You wiggled out of his arms while he stood there stunned, eyes wide and mouth hanging open at being… rejected? Postponed?

“What?” It wasn’t often that Leona was confused by someone’s behavior, this was one of those moments, “Don’t you like me back?”

“Yes, I do. But I’m not gonna… do things with you until I know where you stand on this. If I do then… what did you get into that fight for? It would prove them right.” As hard as it was to go on with the scheduled study session you had to power though it. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not gonna make me kiss you.”

Leona tilted his head to show you the bruise on the side of his lips, “Sure about that? I took this punch for you.” He wiggled his eyebrows a little but got nowhere because you turned around fast, ignoring the rapid heartbeat in your chest and how much you did in fact want to kiss him. You were also reminded of why you thought he was a pompous jerk. But alas he was a lovable pompous jerk.

[amhrosina]

Ok what about Franks reaction when you come home crying? Idk why, could be anything at all. I’m just imagining Frank excited for you to get home, only for you to come through the door with tear tracks down your face

a/n: ooooooooooo yes! i made frank so soft here i think i need comfort lmfao not quite as angsty as i wanted, but i like how it ended up! also, said this would be a drabble, ended up writing a 1.2k ficlet sooooo enjoy!

warnings: implied violence, implied smut at end, reader gets mugged (off page), f!reader, no use of y/n, frank comforting reader, reader gets a little weepy

masterlist // join my taglist

You never thought you’d reach this point, but you were praying Frank hadn’t made it home from work yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him - you always wanted to see him - but the sight of your swollen, tear-filled eyes would probably send him into a frenzy, and really, all you wanted to do was curl up in his lap and forget about the entire encounter that had left you in tears. 

Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, however, because as soon as you stepped into your apartment, Frank’s overwhelming presence was immediately apparent to you. His work boots, neatly lined next to the door, were in the place he always left them when they were too dirty to store in your shared closet. His coat, the one he’d insisted he didn’t need but wore every single day in the winter, was hung in the corner, next to the empty hook that normally held your jacket, scarf, and hat. The most obvious indicator, though, was the irregular clatter of dishes being moved around, used, and discarded in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart?” He called, eagerness clear in his voice. “That you?”

Shit. Suddenly, the guilt of praying he wasn’t home moments before threatened to consume you.

“Sweetheart?”

His voice was closer now, much closer, and you hurriedly swiped the tears away from your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blotchy cheeks, or the fact that your eyelids were more swollen than you’d ever seen them. You cleared your throat and tried your best to sound normal.

“Hey, Frankie.”

You turned around to meet him, smiling in an attempt to hide your sorrow, and suddenly felt extremely stupid. Frank wasn’t an idiot, and the look on his face when you finally looked at him told you he was seeing right through the facade. 

“What happened?” 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shrugged, blinking away the fresh wave of tears building in your lash line.

“Did someone hurt you?” 

His voice was oddly calm, but there was a bite in his tone that he was clearly trying to suppress. 

“No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”

He blinked down at you, cupping your damp cheeks in his warm palms.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me, sweetheart?” 

“I’m not.” You denied instantly, resolve growing weaker with every pass of his thumb over your cheekbones. He was silent for a moment, eyeing your quivering bottom lip. He took in your appearance, the word ‘disheveled’ coming to mind as he looked you over, before finally pinpointing what was missing from your usual attire.

“Where’s your bag?” He queried, tilting his head slightly. 

You huffed, finally allowing the tears to spill onto your cheeks. “I was on the subway and this asshole was crowding me when I got off and before I could even try and get away from him, he took off with my bag.”

“Okay, shh shh shh shh, baby. It’s okay.” 

You were, embarrassingly, blubbering at this point. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. 

“The necklace you got me for Christmas was in there, Frank.” You sobbed, trying not to think too hard about the lost gift. It had been your most prized possession since the moment you’d put it on. Until this morning, you’d never taken it off. You cursed yourself for thinking it would be safe in your bag. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad, baby. Don’t apologize.” Frank cooed, pressing gentle kisses across your face. He was all too aware of how much that necklace meant to you. “I’m going to make a call, okay?”

“You think you can get it back?” You knitted your brows together in confusion. “I didn’t even get a good look at his face. I have no idea who he is.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pulled you into his chest and began dialing his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” You questioned further, nuzzling into his warmth.

“Lieberman. If anyone can find the guy, it’s him.”

You listened as Frank relayed the information to Micro, occasionally giving him additional information. Frank’s free hand cupped the back of your head, absent-mindedly running his fingers along the nape of your neck while Micro searched through camera footage and DMV records. You knew the second they’d figured out who did it, so tuned into Frank’s body that you physically felt the tension build in his shoulders. 

“You gonna kill him?” You asked, eyes focused on Frank's jaw, which hadn’t unclenched since his conversation with Micro.

“I should.” He mumbled, eyeing your reaction carefully. “He could’ve hurt you.”

“He didn’t, though.” You shrugged, “Maybe he needed food or something.”

Frank’s eyes softened. “Are you really trying to find the good in the man who stole your favorite thing from you?” 

“Maybe.” You shrugged again, grinning when Frank huffed in annoyance. 

“You’re too nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good thing I’m not.”

“I thought you’d be more mad.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m pissed that he even looked at you.” His jaw clenched impossibly harder. “But I’m just glad you’re safe. If he’d hurt you, though…,” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I don’t know what I’d do. Something illegal. That’s a given.”

You nodded, understanding his desire to protect you. If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. You sniffed, eyes flicking to the kitchen, where something was definitely burning.

“What were you cooking before I came home?”

Frank stiffened before taking off toward the kitchen. “Holy shit, I forgot I had something in the oven.”

You giggled and followed him through the apartment, the entire encounter on the subway a distant memory already. Frank would take care of it. He always did.

Later, hours after falling asleep on Frank’s chest, the distinct sound of your fire escape window closing woke you from your slumber. Frank was no longer beneath you, and hadn’t been for some time you realized, sliding your fingers over the cool sheets where he’d been earlier.

“Frankie?” You softly called, slightly lifting your head from the pillow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He gently crawled into bed, hovering over your still mostly-asleep figure and kissing the tip of your nose. “I have something for you.”

He lifted his arm, and you nearly shrieked when you realized what was dangling from between his swollen and slightly bruised fingers.

“You found it?” You gasped.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” He smiled, kissing you again.

“Frank Castle, you absolute fucking gentleman.”

He chuckled at your crude language. “That’s high praise coming from a princess like you.”

You smiled, kissing him deeper. He groaned when you slid your tongue into his mouth. 

“Let me show you how grateful I am.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Baby, you won’t hear any complaints from me. Your wish is my command, princess.”

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs @ostricx @horrorflix @xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @fxlsealarm @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @ryebreadsworld @laaundromat @coacaiyne @niki-is-a-thing @deactivating-this-blog @bxmaaa @kentdreamingspam

[carmyboobear]

Idk if you've written this but can you write about carmy and the reader arguing and he makes her cry? Idk I just feel like thatd be good angst fluff lol

AHH I got carried away as per usual. anyway this is good stuff. wrote a bunch. enjoy!!

word count: 1.3k

tags: traumatized carmy, mentally ill carmy and reader, arguing, language, HURT/COMFORT, ANGST/FLUFF, carmy being a sweetie

Hm…i'm spending a lot of time thinking about the set-up for this. Carmy is a very careful person when it comes to those he’s romantically involved in, but at the same time, he has a hard time controlling his temper when he's in the darkness, as i'll put it. 

here's something awful i think about that i wanna write about. carmy's stressed about work, because of course he is. he's carmy. his head is whirring, spinning with anxiety and self-hatred. i think you're just like him. mentally ill for mentally ill if you will. you're also in a bad mood, and he comes home from The Bear exhausted and keyed up.

“I hate when you push me away like this,” you admit. You've been trying to get him to talk to you since he's been home. Maybe he just needs space, but separation makes you anxious. Especially when he shuts down. 

“I'm sorry that it's so hard for you,” he spits, finally snapping and turning to face you. You've followed him into the dark bedroom, lit only by the harsh moonlight through the window. You flinch. You never quite get used to seeing him like this. 

“I—I just—“ you feel pressure beginning in the back of your eyes. You will it away. “How can I help you if you don’t talk to me?”

“Why do you care so much? Does it make you feel better to take care of someone more fucked up than you?” He snaps, voice raised. His words go down bitter, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. Something in you shatters.

“How could you ask me that?” Your vision’s gone hot and blurry. “I’m your partner. I love you, that’s why I care, you asshole!” You’re stifling sobs. You hate crying in fights like this, but it hurts. You can’t help it.

“Fuck,” Carmy mutters under his breath. He’s gone still in your blurred vision. “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that—“

“That was so fucked up, Carmy.” You move to sit on the bed, trying to wipe your tears away, but they keep coming. “What’s your problem?”

“You know what my problem is.” His remorse has swept away the anger, leaving him quiet before you. He leans down at your knees, hands on your thighs. “I shouldn’t have said that. Any of that.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Carmy nods quickly, and he raises a hand to your wet cheeks. “Fuckin’ asshole.”

“I know.” He takes your pain, your anger in its entirety. His other hand brings your knuckles to his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.“

“Sure sounded like you meant it.” Anger flares up in your chest, hurt and betrayed, but you tamp it down, leaning into his hand cradling his face. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Damnit, Carmy.”

“I know. I know.” He’s still kissing your hand. “You’re too good for me. I don’t deserve you.” You hate it when he talks like this, because you can tell he really believes it.

“Don’t say that. Please.” 

“But it’s true.” You look down at him in the moonlight, at his sad blue eyes. “I always find ways to hurt you. I…”

“That’s what being in a relationship is, Carm.” You pat the space next to you. “Sit with me?”

“I keep having to remind myself of that.” He sinks into the bed next to you. “I’m so sorry for talking about you like that. Like you’re only doing this out of…I don’t know. Obligation.” He drags a hand across his tired face. “You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry. I just, I just think that—that I’m—fuck—“

“Slow down, Carm,” you say quietly. “It’s okay. You don’t need to force it. I’m listening.” He smiles bitterly at you, and you recognize the love in it easily. He takes in a deep breath before continuing. 

“I still have a hard time believing that anyone cares about me. I can’t even believe that you—love me.” You can practically see the shame rolling off of him in waves. “And it makes me scared.”

“Love is scary, isn’t it?” You say softly. He just nods. “It scares me, too. That’s why I kept pestering you when you got home. I…” You blink quickly. You don’t wanna cry again. “It scares me when I don’t know what you’re thinking. Because…I dunno. It just does.”

“Yeah?” You nod. He has this thoughtful expression that he holds for a moment as he stews on your words. “I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry. I think…I think when you kept asking me if I was okay, it…” he sighs, scratches at his temples. “I felt like I was…getting back into a corner. I think.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” You take his hand in yours. “I can see how that must’ve felt really bad.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault that I’m like this. I think—I think it just reminded me of my mom. We would always ask her if she was okay, because she’s fucking crazy, yknow? We didn’t wanna step on her toes. But it turns out we did anyway. And the way I acted just now, I was just like…” He can’t even get the words out. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, voice choked with emotion. “I love you. So much. You know that, right?”

“You tell me everyday. How could I not?” You pull him into a hug, tight and warm, and he instantly wraps his arms around you. “You’re not your mom, Carm. You're nothing like her. Okay?” 

“I don’t wanna be like her,” he whispers. “I don’t wanna be like her.”

“You’re not,” you remind him softly. “And you won’t be.”

Carmy leans back to look at you, but he remains close. His expression is knotted with pain. You run your thumb over his furrowed brow, and it makes his mouth curve upwards in a smile. It’s fleeting, but it was there. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’ll try to open up more. Let you know what I’m thinking.”

Suddenly, you think about when you first started dating Carmy. He was so scared to open up to you emotionally, but with gentle prodding, he fell apart instantly. There was a hunger in him to be known by others, to be seen by you, and it scared him to death. You see that same fear in him now, but you also see how much he’s grown since then. You doubt you would’ve been able to have this conversation at all in the first couple months. 

That makes you happy in a way you’re not quite able to word properly.

“Thank you. But I hope you also know I don’t want to force you. I just wanna help. And…” You measure your words carefully. “I’ll try not to let it freak me out so much. Because if you’re not in the mood to talk, I want you to know that’s okay. Okay?”

“Okay. I’d like that. If I don’t want to talk, I’ll just tell you. Instead of…blowing a fuse.” He laughs dryly. 

“I’d like that too.” You let out an exhale of relief you didn’t realize you were holding. “Wow, Carm. Look at us. Communicating!”

“I know.” That makes him laugh for real this time, and you’re laughing too. “I couldn’t do it without you.”

“I think you could. But I certainly like doing it with you.” His smiles grows wider at that, brimming with affection. 

“Let me make this up to you, baby.” He pulls you in for a kiss, slow and deep. You let out a little noise when his lips meet yours. 

“Make it up to me?” Carmy’s tongue is on your neck now. Oh. “Aren’t you tired? You—you have work tomorrow—?”

“Don’t care.” You fall back onto the bed, and the blankets deflate under you. You stare up at Carmy, his curls hanging by his face. “You’re more important.”

“Well, if you insist…” You giggle, and your giggles get louder when Carmy pulls up your shirt to blow raspberries against your stomach. “Carmy, quit it—oh—!”

He makes it up to you in full and more by keeping his head between your legs for the rest of the night. By the end of it you can't remember what you were mad about in the first place.

[cal-flakes]

omg just read the touch starved dealer rafe post and i’m obsessed can u please do more of their dynamic? like being protective, or comforting her, or cuddling her or like smut that’s like soft dom rafe

heavy on dealer!rafe today so all your dealer!rafe concepts are being welcome with open arms and a big smooch rn xxxx

╰┈➤ protective dealer!rafe

warnings: swearing, descriptions of violence, mentions of a gun.

summary: dealer!rafe protects y/n from her father.

y/n snuggled into the couch, legs spread over rafe’s lap as he counted through the stacks of cash on the coffee table. he’d gotten back from a deal with barry not long ago, finding y/n asleep on the couch, snoring softly.

small packets of powder littered the table as he compared the cash total to the bags he had left. a sudden slurred yell from the driveway caused y/n to stir, her eyes groggy as she squinted.

“y/f/n! you wanna come out here darlin’?” rafe stood immediately, hastily tucking his gun into the front waistband of his pants. “rafe..” she whimpered, eyes wide.

“shh, i’m gonna sort it out okay baby?” he spoke, stroking her cheek soothingly.

it was her father. y/n hadn’t seen him in a couple months, since the night rafe picked her up.

from then on she’d stayed with him at tannyhill, he bought her everything she needed, drove her wherever she needed to go.

he’d even suggested quitting her job, claiming he could take care of her. and while she appreciated the offer, she turned it down, everything he’d given her was already too much.

he stomped through the foyer, puffing his chest out slightly. rafe opened the front door, facing the drunken man in his driveway.

“can i help you?” he spat, observing the baffled look on her fathers face. “i didn’t ask for you, cameron. where’s my daughter?” he sneered, gesticulating furiously.

“she doesn’t want to see you, and quite frankly, neither do i..” rafe growled, squaring up to the man.

“oh! you think you’re some big boy now huh cameron! you weren’t so tough when your daddy was around..” rafe’s chest heaved as his breath increased, rage surging through him like a train.

stepping closer, rafe faced her father. “get the fuck off my property..” he spat.

“not until i see my little girl!” the man yelled, stumbling on his feet.

“she’s not your little girl anymore. not after everything you did to her. now, as i said, get the fuck..off my property” rafe’s venomous words were like knives, cutting through the man’s heart.

“yeah? what the fuck are you gonna do little boy?” her father taunted, attempting to intimidate rafe.

discreetly reaching for the hem of his shirt, he lifted it to wipe his face. the dishevelled man’s eye bulged slightly, rafe having flashed his gun.

her father stepped back, almost tripping over his uncoordinated footsteps as he retreated to the gates. “that’s what i thought..asshole” rafe muttered under his breath.

he stood there for a couple minutes, making sure her father had left before heading back inside.

“rafe? is he gone?” y/n whispered, tears in her eyes.

he rushed to her side, discarding the gun on the coffee table. “he’s gone angel, he’s not gonna bother you anymore..” he cooed, wiping the cascade of tears away with his thumb.

she leant into his touch, nodding. “thank you rafe..” she sighed, placing her hand on top of his. “don’t, you don’t need to thank me, im gonna keep you safe no matter what, m’kay?”

he pulled her into his side, gently kissing her head as she snuggled into him. “i love you baby, nothings gonna hurt you as long as i’m around..”

[sxtaep]

THE ONE YOU NEED - JJK

after getting dumped, jungkook finally had the opportunity to swoop in and heal your broken heart.

pairing — jungkook x female reader

genre — angst, fluff, smut

word count — 2k

warnings/tags — roommates!au, confession!au, softdom!jk, sub!reader, lots of cussing, swearing, reader is angry & upset, jk is in love w you, mentions of a bummy ex, crying, very soft, so much love, touching, romantic, sexual tension, hickeys/neck kisses, first kiss, explicit smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys), penetrative sex, soft dirty talk, overall very raw and soft

a/n: something short and sweet and a little fast paced 😰

inspired by this song 💗

“Literally FUCK HIM,” you curse whilst pacing around your apartment, clear frustration evident on your face as you threw a strop. Breakups were generally easy as it took a lot for you to get attached but this one… it wasn’t going too well.

You’d been in a mood all day after your boyfriend decided to call it quits all of a sudden because he felt you were “too high maintenance” which, on its own, was pretty offensive but that didn’t really tug at your chest. The fact that he couldn’t handle your high maintenance self made you wonder if anyone could ever deal with you.

At the moment, it looked like no one could.

Jungkook, sat at the edge of your couch, merely watched you pace around with his hands clasped together over his mouth, his eyes following your every move and being cautious as to not topple you the wrong way.

He learnt the hard way; let you rant for as long as you need to and soon enough you’ll calm down.

“Calling me, of all people, ‘high maintenace’, who the fuck does he think he is?!” You aggressively turn towards Jungkook, as if directing the question to him, and you know you caught him by surprise when his mouth fell ajar, practically speechless.

“He never spent time with me, never even acknowledged me, you’d think I was dating a brick wall!”

Yeah, Jungkook knew all of that. He knew your boyfriend was an ass and only showed you attention when he wanted to fuck, which you so willingly gave to him because you always grasped at ‘romantic’ intimacy, and Jungkook hated it. He bet the guy wasn’t even that great in bed since you’d always come back the next day in an awful mood.

“I can’t believe I spent all those nights with him. He couldn’t make me cum once, it got tiring faking all those orgasms.”

That’s his doubts confirmed.

You continue to pace around, spilling all your thoughts and dramatising your hand gestures until you stopped. Jungkook looked straight at you and his features softened when he noticed how teary your eyes had become; on the verge of spilling down your cheeks. He could tell you were trying to hold in the tears, but why? You knew you could comfortably cry around him.

Right, because on many occasions, he pointed out that your boyfriend was a dick, an unappreciative one at that and you decided to ignore his opinions. Your relationship was like watching a girl in highschool chase after her much loved crush who had no interest in her. It was kinda sad and all Jungkook could do was sit back and watch you get hurt over and over again.

If you were with him, you’d never be treated like that.

He hated seeing you in this state. As someone who deserved nothing but the best, seeing you upset over a stupid ex boyfriend made him feel all sorts of things; predominately anger, but that was a given. It also pissed him off beyond words because Jungkook had every chance to swoop you into his arms and keep you to himself, but a part of him genuinely thought you were in love with the guy, so he stayed put.

“Am I really too much to handle?”

Jungkook could’ve sworn his heart broke right then and there, and it hurt more seeing you cry over something that was complete bullshit. His fist was twitching (the things he’d do to punch the living daylights out of that asshole) but you were his first priority.

“Y/N…” he starts, getting out of his seat to approach your form, which looked even more fragile now than when you were mad. “Honestly, that guy has no clue what he’s talking about,” Jungkook tries to reassure you, leaning down slightly and reaching his hand towards your face, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tears beneath your eyes.

The pout on your lips only became more prominent as your cheeks heated up from the kind, yet subtle gesture. That’s weird. “No guy wants a girl that’s ‘high maintenance’, is that what he’s trying to tell me? Because I know damn well he didn’t do half the shit I had planned for us—”

“—You’re not high maintenance, you’re eager,” Jungkook adds, bringing you closer to his chest so you could rest your head against him and cry to your heart’s content. “Besides, it’s not a bad thing.”

Your fist lands a punch to his chest, “Obviously it’s a bad thing if it’s the reason why my boyfriend broke up with me, stupid,” you say, through short, broken sobs.

Your roommate only chuckles, his chin resting on your head as he embraced you in his arms. “I don’t think it’s bad. I like my girls high maintenance,” Jungkook smiles ahead at the blank wall, hoping his words would be enough for you to catch on.

“You don’t mean it. You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you grumble, looking up at him with your glassy eyes and tear stained cheeks, expecting him to make a joke about it but nope, he seemed pretty content staring at the wall like it was the love of his life.

“I think I’ve had my fair share of handling you, and I’ve done a pretty good job at it,” he shrugs, showing you a sheepish smile, “because I care that much about you and I’m willing to put in the time and effort to show you that.”

Was he saying this in a romantic or platonic way?

“Your ex was probably the guy you wanted, but we both know I’m the one you need,” Jungkook whispers softly, leaning down towards your face, and you think he’s gonna kiss you, but he stops before your lips could make contact with his.

Your silence factored out his words being false, and from that, he knew he got you. “I know you felt what I said,” he calls you out on your bluff, pulling you away from him so he could look at you properly and deem his thoughts correct. He shifts his hand over to your chest, right above your beating heart, “…Right here.”

With the way you were staring at him, you were either extremely turned on by him indirectly confessing his feelings to you, or extremely heartbroken that literally anything and everything seemed attractive to you right now.

Who were you kidding? It was all Jungkook.

You finally speak up, your voice ten times quieter than it was earlier on, “And what if I did? What does that mean?”

“I don’t need you confirm or deny it, I know you well enough to know you felt my words in more places than one,” Jungkook’s eyes dance down you body to settle where your poor cunt was jumping between your legs, making it all the more obvious that you were clenching your thighs shut.

Shit. He was good.

He laughs softly, “How could he ever leave a pretty girl like you unsatisfied?”

A part of you still wasn’t convinced by his words, “If you really wanted me, you could’ve had me by now,” you throw at him, expecting him to stutter, but Jeon Jungkook had eyes on you for a pretty long time, so he had a lot to say.

“It’s kinda hard going after a girl who was too busy chasing someone else. You know I don’t roll like that,”Jungkook tugs at your arm, urging you to turn your back towards him so he could rut himself against your lower half whilst his hands slowly, yet with so much need, trailed up and down your arms, warming you up and giving you the chance to relax. “Besides, being patient always works out in the long run.” He was adamant on showing you the love you deserved and if you were planning to be ‘high maintenance’ about it, you bet he had a couple tricks up his sleeve to deal with that.

As if it were second nature, your body was acting on its own, easing into his touch as his hand slipped under your shirt, drawing small circles over your stomach. It wasn’t much, but this is exactly what romantic intimacy felt like, and it made you wonder why the hell you weren’t with Jungkook to begin with.

A pair of soft lips were grazing against your untainted neck, leaving short, supple kisses as they dragged downwards, giving himself more room. “Did your ex ever show you love like this?” Jungkook mumbles, too caught up in kissing you, but he didn’t need to hear you say no. “Why couldn’t he cherish you, huh? I should’ve snatched you up when I got the chance, how stupid of me.”

You’re unable to respond, your senses letting you down much faster than you anticipated and you could practically feel the smirk Jungkook was sporting right now, so you turn around to face him and boy, you weren’t wrong.

“Oh, that’s got you speechless?” He wasn’t mocking you, he felt sorry for you. These past boyfriends of yours never took the opportunity to appreciate the being that was you, never took the time to touch you or show you the love he felt you were entitled to.

He would be a dead man if he didn’t just do it himself.

“Look up for me, would you?”

You hesitate at first, but before you could bask the sight of his face, Jungkook had trapped you in a slow moving kiss. It’s not too fast, nor is it too slow, but it’s just enough to ease your mind and completely take over your being as your arms reach out to snake around his neck, eagerly pulling him in to deepen the kiss.

Your forwardness reassured him that you were all for what was about to go down and before you knew it, Jungkook was holding you tightly within his embrace whilst you straddled his lap, taking his cock like you were made for it. You’d completely forgotten about your broken heart; Jungkook’s constant care and reassurance helping you to disregard today’s events and focus on him.

All these months of watching you chase after a man who didn’t deserve you, Jeon finally had you to himself.

This wasn’t going to be ‘just a quick fuck’. The last thing he wanted was for you to assume he was doing this out of pity, but no, this would simply prove just how much he yearned for you. Jungkook’s top priority was to please you first and foremost.

“Bet that asshole couldn’t fuck you like this, huh?” His tatted hands grip the flesh of your ass, squeezing generously as you whimpered on top of him, masking the illicit sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you. His hushed groans joined in as he looked down to where you both met only to see a glistening mess of your arousal coating his length.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be in this position with your roommate and you only wished you realised sooner that the one who truly cared about you was right under your nose. You felt kinda stupid letting yourself go through useless heartbreaks and dodgy boyfriends when the one you really needed was here all along.

With Jungkook burying his face into the crook of your neck, things felt incredibly raw and intimate, not to mention, you felt so full, you wouldn’t need to force yourself to fake an orgasm around him.

“Gonna come..” You breathe out, your soft walls clenching around him as your hips moved up and down on its own, this time at a much faster pace, but Jungkook was eager to see you finish by his own doing.

His suddenly lifted his hips off the couch, thrusting up in you at such a deprived pace, knowing he was hitting all the right places by the pleasured look on your face. His arms snaked around your waist, his pace unwavering, “Right there, huh? That feel good?”

You nod without hesitation, ignoring the way your inner thighs were tensing in anticipation, waiting for your high to drain you.

“Go ahead and cum, baby. I know how long he kept you waiting.”

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[blossom-works]

Mommy and Daddy Bear

"Chris! Claire!" Leon calls out to his friends. They are locked inside two Alcatraz jail cells. The Redfield siblings are pale, gritting their teeth from whatever is hurting them. The DSO agent tries to force the cells open, but they are locked shut.

"Look behind you, Leon." Claires points. Her arm is shaking, but she is determined to make her friend look behind him. Following her finger, Leon spots someone else in the cell behind him. The entire room is dark, so he turns on his flashlight.

"Babe!" Leon drops his flashlight and crawls to your cell. Like the Redflields, you are gritting your teeth in pain. Your skin is pale too. Leon reaches inside the cell to cup your cheek. Through his gloves, Leon can feel your rising temperature.

"What are you doing here? What happened? Where are the kids?"

Drowsy, you try your best to answer him. "They...They're with Helena. Some woman tried to ambush us but I managed to hold her off." Your wheezing worries Leon even more. There are two times Leon has seen you in a similar state. Both were when you gave birth to his children.

"Help! Get us out of here!"

Leon turns around and in Claire's cell is Leon's target.

"Antonia Taylor...I'll deal with your ass later." Screw his mission. His wife is more important than bringing in some rouge scientist. He needs to get his wife home to their kids.

Leon rubs your warm cheek as an act of comfort. "I'm gonna get you out of here, sweetheart. Don't worry."

Suddenly, the lights flicker on. Jill and Leon pull out their guns and point them in opposite directions. The man in charge, Dylan Blake, introduces himself and his insane plan to the entire group. One of his bio-drones stings Leon in the back of his neck, weakening the man. From your line of view, you see the same woman who tried to take your children jump down from the floor above.

"You bitch." You groan out. You wish you had your gun on you so you could shoot the woman between her eyes. The woman disarms your weakened husband and kicks him to your cell. Reaching your hand out, you squeeze Leon's shoulder.

"I get it now. The attack. The virus. You got them from Arias. That's why she's here." Leon wheezes out. The virus is coursing through his veins, slowly shutting his body down.

"Leon," You exhale. "That's her. That the bitch that tried to take the kids."

Dylan's voice echoes the large, empty room. "You killed poor Maria's father. It was only fair for her to take away your family, Leon. Unfortunately, we underestimated your wife's condition. Even at three months post-partum, she was able to put up a fight. Left a bruise or two on Maria. I've got to say my friend, you have yourself quite a catch."

"Screw you, you bastard!"

"My kids and wife are innocent! You had no right to go after them!"

Dylan goes on a tangent about how everything the BOW fighters have fought for was a lie. They are nothing but pawns for powerful people to use. Dylan nit-picks at each of them, even you.

"And poor Mrs. Kennedy...I feel bad for you the most. You married a man who is tied down to his endless, grueling job. He even got your family mixed into his mess. What kind of a man does that to his family?"

You defend your husband through your gritted teeth. "Leon didn't do shit to our family. You're the one who endangered our family, asshole! My husband does everything he can to protect us so kindly fuck off!"

Leon has always questioned his ability to protect his family. He is constantly gone throughout the year and for an unknown amount of time. Your husband tries his best to be there for his kids and for you, but work gets in the way. He even worries about being present in their early lives. Leon does not want to miss out on their important firsts. He never wants to end up as the dad who misses out on his kids' school events, games, and recitals. Dylan is good at hitting a man in his Achilles heel.

Maria grabs onto Jill's hand, making her drop her gun from the pressure she applies. To protect their only chance at survival, Leon pulls out a flash grenade and tosses it in the middle of the hallway. When the flash clears, Maria steps onto Leon's chest. The more pressure she uses, the more her heeled boots dig into his skin.

"Leave them, Maria. They're all about to turn anyway."

Reluctantly, the woman obeys. She haughtily looks down at you who is glaring at her. Cursing the woman for going after your family. Silently proclaiming your revenge.

All week and terrified, Leon does his best to distract you from the pain. "How are the kids?"

"They should be fine. Helena was with me when Maria decided to drop by. She took the kids while I stalled Maria." You grip your side in pain. "Man that bitch packs a mean kick."

"She," Leon groans. "She knew where we lived?" You nod. It astonishes you too. Everything about your family is classified thanks to DSO's protocol. Information about their agents and their families is pretty much untouchable with the exception of a few.

Being the angel she is, Rebecca shows up with her vaccines. "Thank goodness I made an extra." She tries to give Leon the vaccine first, but he rejects it. No way is he going to get better while his wife is still sick. When everyone is vaccinated, you all know the battle is almost over.

Picking up Jill's gun, you turn around to face your husband. "Let's go get that bitch."

---

The fight between you, Leon, and Maria is an exhausting one. It takes the two of you a while before your full strength is back. Something must have been injected into Maria because she is what you describe as a "super soldier". Maria is a good fighter, but she fucked with your family. She broke into your home. She tried to go after your precious kids and use them as leverage. The woman fucked with the wrong set of parents. And she put her nasty ass foot on your husband's face! So not cool!

When Leon regains his strength, he double-kicks Maria. His last kick is about to send Maria to her death, but you want to be the one to do it. You take the disheveled Maria and shove her from behind with your foot while bending her body down to a certain level of height. The metal rod sticking out, pierces through Maria's head, killing her instantly. You and Leon have peace of mind knowing that the woman after your family is dead.

Leon drags you away from Maria's body and brings you into his chest. Your hug only lasts a couple of seconds because the control room starts to shake.

"We are so going on vacation after this." You say.

Leon laughs and nods his head in agreement. You guys are definitely booking a trip when you get home. He hopes that Eri will not remember whatever happened in your home. Levi is only a few months old but his sister is two. Leon does not want Maria to be one of Eri's earliest memories. Leon can only hope that your maternal instincts protected Eri from early childhood trauma.

---

The fight on Alcatraz Island is over. The six of you sit outside as you wait for backup to arrive.

"Well...I know what I'm taking away from this."

"What's that?" Rebecca asks.

"Prison tours suck." Leon's dorky remark makes everyone laugh. You lightly shove him to the side before he swings his arm around your shoulder. "So, where we goin' for vacation, love?"

"You were serious about that?" Chris asks. Leon announced that he and his family were going on vacation after this mission, but the BSAA operative thought Leon just said that in the heat of the moment.

You hum. "France? I've always wanted to see the Palace of Versailles and I'm sure Eri would love to go to the Disneyland there."

Claire raises her hand like a kid. "OOO! I wanna go too!" As much as she travels because of one thing or another, it is never where she wants to go and do what she wants to do (besides survive of course).

"France sounds good. Jill? Rebecca?"

Jill shrugs her shoulders and Rebecca says that she could use a vacation after this week.

"Wait a damn minute, It's a family vacation. Kennedy only." You slap your husband's arm for being rude to your friends.

"C'mon babe, these guys are practically family. Besides, free babysitters."

Hearing "free babysitters" immediately changes Leon's mind. He loves his children, but having the chance to have their mother to himself is just too good to pass up. Eri is an easy kid to watch, she just needs to work on her potty-training skills. Levi is formula fed so he does not need to be on your boobs every two or three hours. This means that mommy and daddy can have some uninterrupted "mommy and daddy" time.

"Alright, fine but you guys are paying for yourselves."

---

Story inspired by "Family Matters" by @not-another-leon-blog

[toracainz]

Shrike

Masterlist

Summary: Things with Marc have been…touchy to say the least. Can things get better?

Pairings: Marc x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing. Established relationships. Verbal conflict. Break up. Physical conflict with some asshole. Knife but no harm to reader. Everything is wet but not how you think. hurt/comfort. angst/comfort. i mean I hope the comfort is there lol.

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: this is for my first-ever fic request. never thought someone would ever want to ask me of all people for a fic. I hope everyone likes it. it kind of got away from when writing it sooooo lol

Things were fairly quiet in the flat as Marc enters looking exhausted. It doesn’t take him long to notice the sound of the shower running. You were home. Just great. With an exasperated huff, Marc makes his way to the chest of drawers to quickly pack for yet another mission. Grabbing the things he was looking for he begins to shove them in a bag, trying to hurry out of the flat before you can notice, but he was never that lucky.

The shower turned off as he was putting the last couple things in and in a rush Marc runs into a chair with a loud thud and a “Fuck!”

“Marc?” You called from the bathroom, hoping it was him and not some burglar, as you stepped out, wrapped in your towel. He had been gone for quite some time with no word on if he was okay or when he’d be coming back. You and Marc had been together a while now, so long that he actually trusted you enough to tell you about Khonshu and what being his avatar meant. It was a bit hard to believe at first, until Marc summoned his suit in front of you…there’s no denying it then. So you came to understand that what Marc was doing was for the greater good, that he was out there helping good people and punishing bad ones. The first few times he left on a mission, you were worried sick and oh so relieved when he got back no matter how long that would be for…but after a while, after many discussions about just a simple text being enough, some kind of indication he was alive and maybe even when you would see him again him being away also brought frustration and maybe a little anger. While fights had become frequent when his missions were brought up, you both managed to make up and move on…until it happened again.

“Shit…” Marc muttered under his breath, “Yeah!…yeah, it’s me. Just stopped by to grab some things…got a uh…long trip ahead.” He knew what was about to come, another fight, another round of the same old thing.

“That’s it?! You’re just grabbing things and going? Were you even going to say ‘hello’? Or ‘I missed you’? Or ‘I love you’? Just grabbing things and avoiding me now?” Your tone became more and more agitated with each question. You had been waiting for him to come back, like you always did, and had been looking forward to spending time with him. Did he seriously need to go on another mission right as he was coming back from one??

“I didn’t think you’d be home.”

“Do you even know what day it is? Of course I’m home, Marc.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Spector. How many more times do I have to ask you, to beg you to just send me a message or call me? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you really just didn’t give a shit.” By now you’ve shed the towel that was wrapped around you and began to dress yourself. You were fuming and you truly wondered if he did care, if he could change.

“Is that what you think?” Marc let out an exasperated laugh, shaking his head, his grin at your accusatory statement beginning to  turn sour. “You’d like that wouldn’t you. To be right about me, huh? Someone who doesn’t give a shit about us, about you? Fine…you know what you’re right. I’ll save you the trouble and just get the fuck out of here.”

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. Is he fucking serious right now? That’s it. “Good. And don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” The words felt cold even to you, but what else could be done? Sleepless nights, the secrecy, the blatant disregard for your relationship…you were basically like another goldfish for him and the flat your tank, just waiting for Marc to come back and feed you the little flakey sorry excuses for quality time or physical touch. It’s time to find open waters.

Marc couldn’t believe you, he didn’t believe you, that you would seriously leave. If he’s being honest with himself (which let’s be honest he can rarely be honest with the people he cares about let alone himself) he’s surprised you haven’t left him before now. Maybe he really is a piece of shit that doesn’t care…no, he can’t think like that. You’ve fought before and you make up and…everything’s okay. That’s right. You’re the one constant in his life and he really does look forward to seeing you after his missions…everything’s going to be okay.

He looks at you, intense brown eyes assessing you for your bluff…of course you’re bluffing…he shakes his head letting out a puff of breath through his nose before turning and walking out the door, shutting it a little harder than intended but not quite a slam.

Unfortunately for Marc…you weren’t bluffing.

As he makes his way out of the flat and on to his next mission you had begun to pack your things, anger simmering into frustration and heartbreak as tears roll down your cheeks. You try to steady yourself but you can’t stop the tears. Grabbing your things, or as much of it as you care to take with you, you walked out and locked the door. With the key in hand you looked it for a moment and sighed.

“Goodbye, Marc Spector.”

You knelt down and slid the key under the door, turning away and headed home.

~*~*~*~

Marc tries to quietly enter the flat like he had weeks earlier…once again he hadn’t called or texted you to update you on his mission, how he was, when he was coming back. This time however he was going to be able to just relax a while. Knowing things were left not on great terms, he had been ruminating on how to make it up to you. “I won’t be here when you get back.” The whole time he had been away those words stayed with him, he would tell himself you didn’t mean it, that you would still be here. After all, you were so patient and understanding of him, his past, and trying to help him make a better future.

Marc wasn't the best at keeping people close, especially the people he cared about. He told himself the reason he never called or texted you while on a mission was for your safety, he didn’t want anyone catching wind of him having something or someone to lose. He told himself it was the same reason that when he returned from a mission he would never come directly home. He would always stay at his storage locker a night or so or even stay somewhere else entirely before making his way back to the flat to see you. Of course he never expressed this. That would have made too much sense, made things too easy. And Marc was never good at making things easy, especially for himself.

He walked around the flat, looking for a sign you might be here. He didn’t see your bags or your laptop anywhere and he didn’t hear the shower or sink so you weren’t in the bathroom.

“Babe???” He called out. Maybe you were hiding? Yeah right, not really any place to hide in this open floor plan flat. “Baby???” Still he called out hoping just maybe you were hiding. He started back to the front of the flat, thinking you might have been in the kitchen (maybe with your headphones in listening to music) and he just didn’t notice. Marc was beginning to feel like a kid that had gotten separated from their parents at the grocery store. But when he got to the kitchen it was empty. Now he was beginning to panic. Maybe someone had found out about you and took you. He was already jumping to the worst possible scenario.

Clenching his fists, he hung his head trying to think of what to do, how to find you. His hands found their way into his curls as he gave them a tug getting more and more desperate with each passing second. That’s when the glint of something metallic flashed at him from a spot on the floor in front of the door. Confused and intrigued, he slowly approached it as if it might suddenly attack, but once he got closer he felt like he would have preferred a key monster attacking him.

Your copy of the key.

He knelt down, picking it up, examining it. This was definitely your key. Realization came crashing down on him. You really meant what you said. He really fucked up.

“Shit…SHIT!!”

He had to find you. He never wanted it to end like this, hell he never wanted it to end in general. It was one of those moments where you don’t truly appreciate what you have until it’s gone. Marc grabbed his jacket and keys and started back out into the chilly London night, thunder rolling in the distance. He had to find you and apologize. You deserved at least that. He told himself that even if you didn’t take him back, even if you didn’t forgive him, he wouldn’t blame you or be upset, you had every right to be upset. He fucked up royally after you begged him to be better. Maybe next time he would learn from his mistake, if he allowed himself to find someone else…but he didn’t want anyone else.

He managed to find a flower shop that was just about to close. Briefly summarizing his situation the shoppist took pity on him, letting him buy a small bouquet. Marc felt that if it was too big his apology might seem insincere or that he was just trying to bribe you to come back. No, the size he got was modest, but not puny. He hoped you would like it, even if you no longer liked him.

With an aching heart, he begins the trek to your place. You both hadn’t talked about moving in together just yet, but maybe if Marc hadn’t been such an ass maybe you could have.

~*~*~*~

The past weeks had been…hard, to say the least. You had gone home and cried and got angry and cried some more. By now the pain, though still fresh, had simmered down a little. You didn’t want things to end that way, but Marc just wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t change. It was hard having him gone so often, worrying if he was alright even knowing the suit would heal him. You just wanted to have him near you, hold you, and you wanted to do the same to him. He’s a good man deep down, but he just can’t seem to get out of his own way.

Your friends had been taking you out on the town since you broke things off with Marc, trying to get your mind off of it all. It worked, sometimes. Other times you would call it an “early” night and head back to your flat. This was one of those nights.

You had dressed cute, a very flattering outfit in both fit and color. You had a drink or two but nothing crazy, not like one of your friends. They all decided to stay out into the early morning, you however thought about your bed and sleeping in. The sound of your shoes against the sidewalk was really the only sound around in this sleepy part of town, aside from the thunder that seemed to get closer. Heaving a sigh, you cursed at yourself for not having brought a proper jacket or umbrella, but you were close to your neighborhood so maybe you could get there before it truly started raining. Now the bed was sounding even better than before, rain outside, cozy blanket, your comfort movie on, the feeling of being watched…your steps were no longer the only ones heard echoing in the night air. Your thoughts were yanked from the blissful thoughts of home to the very present moment and the gravity of just how alone you are this late at night.

You don’t dare look back, so you start to walk a little faster…the other steps picking up their pace too. Again and again, until you’re practically running, but try as you might those other steps are quicker. A strong arm suddenly grabs you from behind as a hand quickly covers your mouth as the body begins to carry you into an alley as rain begins to sprinkle down. The man harshly presses you against the hard exterior of the building…a glint in the dim light…a knife coming to hover in front of your face. As the rain begins to come down truly, it hides the tears that had begun to roll down your cheek.

“Hey, pretty lady. Where’s your friends, hmm? Seen you walking this way couple times…watching that ass move down the road. But that isn’t all I want. Give me your purse, your phone, anything of value…now.” His voice was harsh and his smell somehow still carried through in the rain. You hate how close he was, close enough to know things about him you never wanted to know. As he shifts against you, adjusting his hold on you, you can’t help but whimper in fear.

“Come on now! Don’t have all night pretty thing…out with it.” He barked in your face as your trembling hands began to comply, handing him your things.

“P…please just…please don’t…” Trying to catch your breath at this moment proved nearly impossible. Your heart pounding against your ribs, your lungs doing the same as your hastened breath matched your heart. This couldn’t be happening, why was this happening.

The man tucked your things away, to where you didn't know and didn’t care. You let out a whimper of fear of what might come next. The cold rain beating down on the both of you made you feel even more helpless, especially when a figure was suddenly standing at the entrance to the alley you had been dragged in. It was difficult to make out his features with the way the street light was lighting him from the back. Anxiety spiked as you began to wonder if this was another creep wanting to get in on the action, if they were a weird team or something, but more than anything you hoped it was some kind soul who would help you…though you were quickly running out of hope.

“Oi, what are you looking at huh?” The creep challenged the figure, so they obviously didn't know each other. You glanced around hoping the man would be distracted enough that maybe you could make a break for it, but before you could hatch a plan the figure was headed towards the both of you. “Are you deaf?! You better walk the other way and mind your business, yeah?!”

By now you had closed your eyes, you didn’t know what to do, words were failing you. All you wanted was to be home in bed and for all this to be some sick nightmare brought on by the night's tiring events. The sound of plastic hitting the ground was nearly drowned out by the pattering of rain. In an instant you were colder than before. Was this it? You stood there trembling as time seemed to drag on one agonizing second after another. You realized the creep was no longer caging himself around you, there was a thud and splash of a body hitting the puddling rain on the ground…then a repetitive thunk, thunk, thunk.

Your eyelids felt like they weighed a ton as you slowly opened your eyes, raindrops collecting on them before inevitably falling to your cheeks. And there you see the second man, pummeling the creep until he’s just a groaning barely writhing mess on the ground. When the man stood he gave the creep a swift kick to the gut causing him to cough and wheeze as the man wiped his knuckles clean before retrieving your things…and pocketing them himself. Oh shit, no this can’t be…not another asshole. Your legs could finally hear your brain’s commands as you started to hurry to the alley opening, the crunch of plastic as you stepped on what the man had dropped.

A strong, forceful, calloused hand grabbed your arm as you let out a scream. “NOOOOO! LET GO!!!” Somehow your fight had returned as you pulled against the man’s grip, his other hand coming to grab your arm. He was…saying something, but you didn’t want to hear it, you just wanted to run.

“BABY!!”

You froze, your eyes snapping to look at the man holding you still, eyes wide from adrenaline, fear, and shock. The street light no longer casting a shadow over his features, now the light shone on his damped tan skin and making his wet curly hair glisten.

“M…Marc? Marc…” You couldn’t help it, seeing him there feeling his grip holding you steady, everything came crashing in. A heartbreaking sob clattered from deep inside. Marc reached up, cupping your face in his hands.

“Shhhh…shhh it’s okay baby, it’s okay. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe.” His thumbs gently stroked your cheeks before slipping behind to pull you in close. The rain beat down on you both as Marc held you until you had managed to calm down enough so your thoughts could catch up with what was happening.

“Marc, you…how did you…why are you…?” You stuttered as his hand reached up, gently wiping your hair out of your face where it had clung to your skin.

“I uh…I was coming to see you…to apologize. Wanted to get my thoughts together on what I wanted to say…felt like walking was the best way to do that. Well, walking where I could. That’s when I heard a bit of…what was happening. I was already ready to step in and do something…but when I saw it was you I just saw red. Baby, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” The way he looked at you, his chocolatey brown eyes seeming so dark in the late night, you still didn’t understand.

Marc carefully and slowly let go of you to pick up the plastic wrapped bouquet of flowers, now slightly trampled and looking a little rough.

“These were…these were for you. Though, I don’t blame you if you don’t want them now.” He turned the bouquet this way and that to examine the little bit of damage they sustained. Looking back at you, clearly still in shock, he hands you the bouquet and begins to take off his jacket, putting it around your shoulders. The jacket shielding you, it was warm and helped take the chill from your skin. Putting his arm around you, he began to lead you out of the alley and down the sidewalk to your flat. Once at the door, he helped you to unlock it.

“Well, um…you get inside and get warm.” He stood there a moment, not sure what to do really. Should he come in? Would you even want him to come in? Maybe you should call one of your friends to come over…Marc doesn’t believe you’d want him to stick around too long. So, he begins to take a few steps away from you and the door.

“Why did you come to find me, Marc? The flowers? What is…what is happening here? I mean—thank you, for saving me. For—for being there, I just…I don’t understand.” Shaking your head you still tried to make sense of what felt like a very strange sequence of events. You looked at him, like really looked at him. The man you thought you’d never see again except for an awkward exchange at a pub or a tesco. He resembled a sad puppy that had been left in the rain.

“That’s probably the shock. You’ll want to lay down for a while…like I said, I wanted to—to apologize. For being an ass, for not listening to you, for all the times you begged me to do something and I never did. Look,” Marc took a deep breath, his shirt now beginning to cling to his body. “I am in no way expecting you to forgive me or take me back or give me a second chance cause quite frankly I don’t deserve it. You asked me so many times to do something so simple and I had convinced myself that by me not doing that—not texting you or calling you—I was protecting you. That I was making it so people wouldn’t find out about you…and I should have just told you that. I am so sorry. If I had—if I had maybe you wouldn’t have been out tonight. Maybe you would have been back home waiting for me to come home, you wouldn’t have…” his chest began to rise and fall as his breath hastened.

He did this. He caused this domino effect where you could have gotten seriously hurt. It seems no matter what he does, he can’t help but hurt the people he cares about. Maybe it is better that he just not get close to anyone…as much as it breaks his heart.

While Marc had begun to spiral you made your way down the front steps over to him, taking his hand in yours.

“Marc, stop that. None of what happened tonight is because of you…sure I might have been somewhere else, but some creep could have found me any other night. He could have found me while you were gone on your mission, but,” you quickly added, giving Marc a stern look, stopping him from saying that that would have been his fault too for not being here, “you can’t blame yourself for that. Marc, do you know how long I’ve just wanted an apology? An acknowledgment of how you were hurting me.” When those words left your mouth, Marc brows knit together, causing that crease between them to appear, he looked positively gutted. Of course he was hurting you, there didn’t need to be some weirdo in the middle of the night or some enemy of his to cause you pain—he was already doing that.

“I know…and I should have said it a long time ago. I should have because you deserved that much…that’s why I came out to find you…why I got the flowers. I—You deserved better. I understand why you left and I’m sorry it had to end like that.” He did everything he could not to look at you, he thought if he did his heart would hurt more than it already did. “You deserve far better than someone that doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone.”

Your hand reached up, gently cupping his rain slick cheek, the both of you thoroughly soaked by now, but not wanting to leave the other despite the rain. When Marc felt the warmth of your hand on his cheek he couldn’t help but lean into it, damn he missed this.

“Oh, Marc…damn it. I never wanted to leave. I wanted you to work with me. It broke my heart to leave, but I didn’t see any other way. You didn’t seem like you wanted this to work…wanted us to work.” Your other hand came up to move his hair from where it stuck to his skin like he had yours. This really hit Marc hard. He wanted to be with you, couldn’t imagine life without you. Well he got a glimpse of it tonight and the horrid taste it left in his mouth was something he wished to never taste again, but that wasn’t up to him.

He took a deep breath, a calloused hand coming to hold yours against his cheek.

“Come inside, Marc.”

“I—I shouldn’t.”

“I wasn’t asking. You say you don’t want a second chance, that you don’t deserve one, but if anyone deserves a second chance it’s Marc Spector.”

His eyes snapped up to find yours, slightly widened at this news. “Baby…”

“Marc, I love you. And I want you in my life, but if this is going to work, if we’re going to be together…some things have got to get better. All I’ve done since I left was think about you. So…promise me, if we do this, that things will get better.” You stepped closer to him, your body pressing against his as his other hand comes to rest on your waist.

“I swear. Baby, I swear. I’ll text you, call you, send postcards, anything you want. I’ll make it up to you, all the times I fucked up.” He pulled you closer, arm wrapping around you.

“Marc, let’s take this a step at a time. Okay? A new start. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven on Earth. Like I’ve been reborn.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his flowery statements. Marc could be goofy when he wanted to, you felt like he was only able to relax when you were around and you didn’t mind that. It meant that you made him comfortable, that he felt like he could let down some of his walls and let you in.

Hearing your laugh made his heart lighter, a smile spreading across his lips. Marc was in awe of you, of your features, your laugh and voice, and your saint-like patience. He found himself leaning in, eyes drifting down to your lips, yours doing the same. You couldn’t help it, not with how close he was and how his hand held you against him.

“Marc,” you breathed out before his kiss took your breath away. He pressed his lips to yours like it had been a lifetime since he’d kissed you. The rain didn’t seem so cold anymore as you both embraced.

taglist: @saberlight1 @roseqzpd​ @rosecentaur1916​ @ahookedheroespureheart @sleepyamaya @parkeepingparker @lockleysgrl @marc-spectorr @vermillionsails @harrys-tittie @n0ripeaches @missdictatorme @bitchyglitterfox @spacecowboyhotch @randomchick546 @teacupcollector @local-mr-frog @stevenknightmarc @ahookedheroespureheart @mccn-bcys @juneknight

[holllandtrash]

better left unsaid | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader and some pierre gasly x reader

request: yes 'i was thinking 68 and 70 from your prompt list? maybe lando?' 68. “I wish I’d never met you.” 70. “I’m sorry [Y/N], I’m so sorry.” wordcount: 5.5k+ warnings/tags fuckboy!pierre, asshole!lando, they're all drunk, max (fewtrell) is the only wholesome one, just a bunch of angst rly

You loved Lando, how could you not? You loved everything about him. The way his laugh varied depending on the situation, on who was telling what joke, on how comfortable he felt with the people around him. Same with his smile. You liked to think you were a goddamn pro at being able to tell his smiles apart.

There were slight differences between them. The smile he gave Oscar at the end of completing a pretty successful weekend was proud, but not cocky. He was already thinking about how he could drag this type of energy into the next race as he fist bumped his teammate and made his way through the garage.

The cheeky grin he wore as he walked through the paddock at the end of the day was contagious. The more people who congratulated him, the bigger it grew. He stopped for anyone who asked for a photo or an autograph. There was this sense of joy that radiated off of him, he was on top of the world and everyone saw it.

And then there was the smile that spread across his face when he spotted you standing by the gates. The grin that went from cheek to cheek was the kind that made your jaw hurt if you held it long enough. This was his best weekend in a long time and you were there to watch the whole thing, which made it mean so much more to him.

Lando was one of your oldest friends. You grew up together, went on family vacations together. You were always at his side, metaphorically and sometimes quite literally, while he was making it in the karting world until he eventually made it to Formula 1. 

And it was only a matter of time until you fell for him. 

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, it was more of a gradual thing. What started as an I like being around him somehow spiralled into oh good god I think I love him. 

But of course you couldn’t tell him. Not only was a girlfriend so extremely low on his priority list, but in the past you had tried dropping signs and leaving hints, only for Lando to either ignore them or not even see them. To him, you were simply his best friend. That’s all you’d ever be because that’s all he needed from you. You were his rock, you kept him grounded, you were someone he could always rely on.

He loved you, you knew he did, but not the way you loved him. 

“P2 baby. Another podium in the books,” you beamed, your laughter becoming muffled when Lando pulled you in for a tight embrace. It had been well over an hour since the ceremony ended so he had changed and quickly stepped into the shower to rid himself of any grime or sweat from the race. 

Lando dropped the bag that was in his hand, wanting to hug you tighter. You didn’t care who in the paddock saw the way he pulled you against his chest. You weren’t concerned about the few curious eyes of those who managed to catch the way his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, sending goosebumps over your skin. 

“I want to celebrate,” Lando’s voice deepened as he spoke directly into your ear. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, knowing exactly what he meant. 

Lando rarely drank. The party scene wasn’t for him, with only a few exceptions. A podium, being one of them. You knew he wanted to let loose before the worries of a new race weekend sank in and he wanted you at his side. 

A car horn pulled you two apart. You turned your head to see your other friend Max, pulling up in Lando’s McLaren. He put it in park and got out, tossing Lando the keys over the access gate. 

“Are you two just going to stand there or are we going out?” Max yelled, earning a laugh from Lando. You watched his face light up before he swung the key around on his finger. He reached for you, quickly giving your arm a tender squeeze, a move so subtle you almost missed it, before he made his way to the car.

You were confused when Max stopped you from heading towards your own car. You drove to the track separately, knowing Lando’s car only had room for two. 

“I’ll just meet you guys at the hotel.”

“No you won’t,” Max scoffed, grabbing your keys that you had just pulled from your pocket. He nodded his head towards the passenger door of the black McLaren, “Ride back with Lando.”

“I can’t leave my car here.”

“I’ll drive it back,” Max raised his eyebrows, giving you that specific look he had given you so many times before. If there was anyone that wanted to see you and Lando together, it was him. He was your biggest wingman, he knew about your feelings for the driver and did whatever he could to push you two in the same direction. 

“He’s on a high right now, y/n,” Max pointed out. “If there’s ever a time to tell him how you feel, it’s tonight.”

The only reason Max knew about your feelings for Lando was because of one stupid night out almost a year ago. You had more to drink than you should have and while Lando was by the bar, chatting up some girl, you sat next to Max in the booth and straight up asked him what she had that you didn’t.

Needless to say, that sparked the start of a very long conversation. Max got everything he could out of you, knowing that you wouldn’t say any of this when sober. The next morning, he told you everything you had admitted to, but also promised he wouldn’t tell Lando about how you felt. That was something only you could do.

Max gave you an encouraging pat on the arm and pivoted on heels to find your car in the lot. You grabbed the door handle of the McLaren and slid in. There was a sliver of confusion on Lando’s face, but it soon vanished and was instead replaced by a smirk, watching you as you buckled in your seatbelt.

“Max driving your car back?” Lando asked. 

You came up with a lie on the spot as to why you weren’t driving it, “Yeah it’s making this strange sound, he said he’d listen for it and let me know.”

Lando nodded, humming to himself in response but you could see it on his face. He didn’t believe your words for a second. He wasn’t going to question you, or Max for that matter, but he knew there was nothing wrong with your car.

“You were incredible this weekend,” you told him after a few minutes of driving in silence. “I love watching you race, it’s exhilarating.” 

Lando’s smile grew, “I’m glad you came, truly. I love having you around. You’re my best friend, you know, it almost feels like somethings missing when you’re not here.”

He turned his head and met your stare. His words meant more to you than he’d ever know.

“You know I love you, right?” You said, knowing full well that Lando didn’t understand the true meaning behind that sentence. He tossed that word around so casually when talking about friends, you were no exception.

But he reached across the middle console and squeezed your leg twice, turning his attention back to the road in front of him, “Love you too.”

———————

You had packed for a night out. A black leather skirt, knee-length boots and a top so small that it probably had your ancestors rolling over in their graves. But you looked hot, that was the whole point. 

When Lando knocked on your day, he was visibly taken aback by your appearance, needing to do a double take before speaking.

“Are you-” his eyes dropped to your chest and he cleared his throat, “The Uber’s out front.”

You nodded, grabbing your phone from the table and following him out into the hall. You met up with Max who was waiting for the elevator. He let out a low whistle when you turned the corner and your cheeks flushed bright pink. 

“You look good, y/l/n,” Max said, not at all trying to hide the way his gaze lingered over your body. You playfully twirled and then rested your arm over Lando’s shoulder for support. When he instinctively placed his hand at the small of your back, you and Max shared a similar, knowing look. 

Maybe tonight was the night. Maybe you and Lando would finally get over that brick wall that kept you from being more than friends. 

The elevator arrived and the three of you walked in. When it came to choosing seats in the Uber, Max practically sprinted towards the front seat, leaving you and Lando to climb into the back. 

You didn’t say anything when his knee brushed against yours. You also didn’t say anything when he casually dropped his hand to your leg, his fingers spreading across your bare thigh as if he had done it fifty times before (he hadn’t). And you especially didn’t say anything when he told you there was an eyelash on your cheek when you turned to look at him and he gently brushed his thumb under your eye. 

But in return, Lando didn’t say anything when he most definitely noticed you glancing at his lips. He also stayed quiet when you flicked your hair over your shoulder, but the scent of your shampoo was definitely intoxicating and he just never noticed it before. Or maybe he had and refused to let himself think about it. 

And when you finally pulled up outside the club, Lando held the door open for you and held out his hand to help you out. He kept his fingers interlocked with yours until you made it inside and up the stairs towards the closed off VIP section. When he spotted Charles and Carlos, Lando headed off to start a conversation with them after assuring you he’d be right back.

Max appeared at your side, nudging his arm against yours, “So?”

“So what?” You asked. The two of you walked towards one of the empty booths. 

“So that entire car ride was filled with nothing but sexual tension and if you say otherwise then you’re either blind or lying.”

“I’m not saying anything,” you shrugged innocently, clasping your hands under your chin as Max just shook his head at you. 

Your gaze travelled across the floor, landing on the McLaren driver. He was laughing at something Carlos had said but every so often, he would glance in your direction. And then when Carlos leaned in and whispered something that only Lando would hear, both of their heads turned to look at you. Suddenly feeling very self conscious of potentially being the topic of their conversation, you told Max that you were going to go get a drink.

You were only at the bar for a few seconds before you felt a hand on your back. You glanced up to see none other than Pierre Gasly next to you. He trailed his fingers down your arm, that familiar devious glint in his eyes.

“Y/n,” he greeted you before resting his arms on the surface of the bar. “You came to watch the race?”

You liked Pierre, you did, but you didn’t like his intentions. You and every single woman who were associated with any of the drivers knew all about Pierre’s ways. You had heard the stories of the girls he brought back to hotels and you had even ran into one of them a few weeks ago when you were leaving Lando’s room in the middle of the night after passing out on his couch.

He had tried a few moves on you as well. He wasn’t disrespectful, he never crossed any boundaries. If you were being honest, Pierre was charming, but he wasn’t Lando. 

“Let me get your drink,” he offered when the glass was placed in front of you. He pulled out a black card from his wallet and told the bartender to start a tab. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you told him, but Pierre only leaned in close. His warm breath hit your ear and you swallowed in anticipation, wondering which of his lines he would try next.

“The polite thing to say is thank you,” he whispered. Pierre then pulled back the slightest bit, lifting his fingers to below your chin to keep your attention focused on him. “Or you can always find a way to thank me later, chéri.”

Pierre’s arm suddenly dropped and you knew why when you felt a protective hand slide around your waist. You didn’t have to turn your head to know that it was Lando pulling you into his side. Pierre didn’t see Lando as competition though, sending a wink in your direction and not even acknowledging the British driver before turning and walking off.

Lando waited until Pierre was out of earshot before speaking, “Don’t tell me you and Pierre are a thing.”

“No,” you scoffed, taking Lando’s hand in yours as you led him back to the booth. 

“Good,” Lando muttered under his breath, stopping you in your tracks. 

You turned around to face him, dropping his hand, “Good? What does that mean?”

“Pierre isn’t someone you want to waste your time with,” Lando told you, as if you didn’t already know this, but he didn’t stop his explanation there. “You deserve someone better than that.”

“Someone like you?”

You don’t know what came over you. You couldn’t blame it on the alcohol because you’d barely taken a sip of your drink. You were stone cold sober, and so was he. 

Maybe it was because of the way he looked at you in the car ride after the race or how he spoke to you with such truth and passion that set your entire body on fire. Maybe it was the way he was looking for any excuse to touch you all weekend. An hour didn’t pass without him tracing his fingers over your skin or reaching for your hand. Maybe it was because for the first time in years, it seemed like Lando was starting to see you as more than just his best friend and god help you, you needed to act on it.

But then that specific glint in his eyes faded. He inhaled a sharp breath that caused your heart to sink deeper into your chest because without even saying a word, you knew what was going through his mind. His features softened, like he felt sorry for you. 

“That wasn’t…” Lando trailed off, lifting his hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “Y/n, I don’t-” 

God he couldn’t even get the words out. Was this hard for him or was he trying to save you from the embarrassment? 

“I’m only teasing,” you lied straight through your teeth, curling your lips back into a forced smile that he undoubtedly saw right through. He was your best friend, he knew you like the back of his hand. 

You wanted him to laugh this conversation off. You wanted him to go along with the lie and say ‘Okay cool, we’re on the same page’. You wanted to take back these last thirty seconds and wipe that horrible, pitiful look right off his face. 

But Lando shook his head. This wasn’t something he could just push to the back of his mind and act like it never happened. 

“I don’t have those types of feelings for you, you know that right?” 

Lando’s words cut through your heart like a sharpened blade. The noise in the club faded into the background and you were worried that if you opened your mouth to say something, all that would come out would be a strangled sob. 

“I love you, y/n, I do, but the same way I love Max or Carlos or any of my other friends,” this just kept getting worse. “I’m not in-” 

“Don’t,” you cut him off, your voice barely a whisper. “You don’t need to say it. I get it.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” Lando’s hand twitched, like he wanted to reach for you but decided against it at the very last second. “I’m so, so, sorry.”

You felt like an idiot as a bitter chuckle escaped your lips, “Why? You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one-” you stopped yourself short. You were the one who fell in love with someone who had only ever seen you as a friend. It was your own damn fault you were hurt. 

Why would you think that something would radically change overnight? Lando had never once hinted towards having any sort of feelings for you, but you still managed to find new ways to fall for him every time you saw him. 

“It’s fine,” you finally landed on. Nothing about this felt fine. You forced another smile, softer this time, “Go celebrate your podium.”

And what could Lando say to that? This whole conversation was uncomfortable and heartbreaking and the only thing left to do was end it now before it got worse for both of you. 

Lando nodded and headed off, muttering something about trying to find Carlos. He didn’t give you a second look and you had to fight tooth and nail to not look over your shoulder at him when you made your way back to the booth.

You kept your eyes down, looking at the drink in front of you instead of at Max who quietly admitted that he overheard most of that interaction.

“You alright?” Max’s hand found your back, rubbing small circles on your skin. It wasn’t the least bit comforting. Your best friend was trying to console you after you had just been rejected by your other best friend. You wanted to crawl into a hole and hide away from the world. 

“No,” you sighed, grabbing your glass and raising it up to your lips. You swallowed all of it in a few short seconds and slammed it back down on the table. “I need another one.”

Max grabbed your arm before you could go anywhere, “Don’t do anything stupid, Y/N.”

“Oh you mean like tell my best friend I have feelings for him even though he has never once hinted at having any sort of feelings for me?” You asked, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. Max sank back against the cushion of the booth. “Yeah, too late for that one so I don’t think the night can get any worse.”

God you were so very wrong.

———————

Max tried to keep an eye on you for the rest of the night, but he was caught between you and Lando. He was his friend first and it was his race weekend so when Lando called him over to do shots, he couldn’t say no. You were all out celebrating his successful podium, the only person who wasn’t having a good time was you. 

You had just come back from the washroom when you spotted Lando and Max chatting by the bar. Lando himself was a few drinks in and if your conversation from earlier was weighing heavily on his mind like it was for you, he was doing a damn good job at hiding it.

And then Lando did something unexpected. 

When you approached them, with the sole intent of telling Max you were getting another drink, Lando’s hand slipped around your waist. It literally had you losing your train of thought mid-sentence. 

He had been touchy all weekend, but that was before you decided to wear your heart on your sleeve. His fingers on your bare skin sent a shiver throughout your entire body and you tensed up next to him.

On one hand, you wanted to lean into his touch. You relished over the fact that you were still the one he wanted to be around, even if you meant two completely different things to each other.

On the other hand, you wanted to scream at him. He was leading you on by putting his arm around you when you both knew he had no other intentions. Drunk Lando was still on a high from the podium, he felt like a king. He knew how much you craved being with him and he was eating it up, stringing you along for no reason at all.

“Lando,” you curled your fingers around his hand and peeled it off of you. “Please, don’t touch me.”

His eyebrows pinched together, “What? I’m supposed to treat you differently now because I know that you like me?”

Ouch. 

Max uncomfortably looked between the two of you, trying to decide if he should interfere or not.

“No, just don’t touch me. You have no reason to,” you kept your voice firm even though your heart was shattering on the inside. 

“It didn’t mean anything,” Lando assured you. The underlying sharp tone in his words struck a nerve as he turned on the defence. It didn't mean anything, it never meant anything. He looked you once over and turned towards Max, “I’m grabbing another drink.” He nodded his head towards the bar, signalling for Max to follow him. You were left alone with nothing but a flash of an apologetic look as he trailed behind Lando. 

You could have used another drink as well, but you didn’t want Lando to get the wrong idea and think that you were following him, so you waited, leaning against the railing that overlooked the first floor of the club.

“I’m still waiting for that thank you.”

You recognized the French accent and scoffed as Pierre came and stood next to you. He glanced at the dance floor below you for a second, but his striking blue eyes landed on yours. 

“Piss off, Gasly, I’m not in the mood,” you told him, turning your body completely so you were now pressed against the railing. You rested your arms on top of the metal bar, but that didn’t ward him off. If anything, Pierre appreciated the challenge and stepped in closer, knocking his hip against yours.

“What’s wrong, ma chéri?” 

“First of all, I’m not your chéri,” you tried to mimic his accent but he only found it amusing and chuckled. “Second, I said piss off.” 

Pierre rested his finger beneath your chin, once again guiding your attention towards him and away from the dance floor. You could tell by the look in his eye alone that he wasn’t about to give you the space you asked for. 

“I didn’t think you had a temper,” he said, his voice nearly drowned out by the bass of the song coming from the speakers. He then lightly dragged his thumb over your bottom lip and your breath caught in your throat. “You’re always so sweet in the paddock, but I kind of like this side of you.”

“You really can’t take no for an answer, can you?” You retorted, sounding a lot more confident than you felt. You were only human, Pierre was hot. Plus he had a way with words and could quite literally melt you if he tried hard enough. 

It didn’t help that you had lost count of the number of drinks you had. You also wanted to stay as far away from Lando as possible for the time being and if that just so happened to leave you falling into the arms of one of the other drivers then so be it. 

You weren’t with Lando, he made that perfectly clear. 

“Y/n, if you really wanted me to stop you would have walked away by now,” his accent rang through your ears, along with the truth that you didn’t want to accept. 

But his hand was still cupping your jaw. His eyes were still pulling you in. Your entire body had turned towards him, having given up quite quickly on trying to close him out. 

There was a physical attraction, you couldn’t deny that. Was it only making itself known because the future you wanted with Lando had now been ripped to shreds? Were you only attracted to Pierre because you were slightly intoxicated and wanted a distraction from the horrible turn this night had taken?

These were questions you didn’t want the answer to. 

Pierre dipped his head, his lips hovered over top of yours. If you tilted your chin up even the slightest bit they would have connected, but something told you that Pierre was holding off for a reason. He wanted to pull you in more, leave you begging for something you might regret in the morning. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked, placing his hand on your waist. The feeling of his rings on your skin was intoxicating. The sterling silver band was cold but his touch was warm and inviting. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer so you just nodded. You told yourself this would be the one time you’d follow Pierre anywhere. 

He interlocked his fingers with yours and turned around, leading the way out of the club. The two of you got halfway down the staircase before you heard your name being called behind you. 

Craning your neck, you looked up to see Lando standing there. A mix of confusion and judgement was painted all over his face. 

“Where the hell are you going?” He called out, his eyes landing on where your hand connected with Pierre’s.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be home before ten,” Pierre joked, earning him a backhanded slap on the chest from you. You pulled your hand from his and walked back up the stairs, using the top of the bannister for balance when you stopped on the last step, looking up at Lando.

“Are you serious?” Lando scoffed, gesturing towards Pierre. “You said nothing was going on.”

“Yeah that was three hours ago,” you said. “I’m a grown woman, Lando. I can make my own decisions.”

“You’re making a shitty one.”

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t care about your opinion.”

“You seemed to care about it a lot this morning, and yesterday and every fucking day before that.”

You shrugged, “Things change.”

Lando shook his head, his tongue poking out to lick his lips. He was drunk, you both were. This was not a conversation that should have been happening, but no one was stopping you.

“You don’t get to become a bitch to me just because I said I don’t have feelings for you.”

Your eyes widened, “Excuse me how am I being a bitch? Because I’m leaving the club with someone other than you? Because someone else has my attention for once? So sorry I don’t want to sit on your couch for the thousandth time and watch reruns of the fucking Office until you remember to tell me that my flight home is booked for eight am tomorrow.”

Because that would always happen. Lando would send you your boarding pass late Sunday nights and it would be a silent reminder that you couldn’t go with him to the next race, that you weren’t someone he cared enough about to keep around permanently. You’d pass out on the couch in his hotel room and in the morning he’d drive you to the airport, telling you that he was happy you came. Not because he loved you, not because he performed better when you were around, but because you were just one of his friends. Nothing more.

“Okay, I’ll make it easier for you,” Lando said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but his screen lit up his face and you could see the concentration in his features. After a few seconds, he locked his phone and smiled at you, “There. If you want to be ungrateful then that’s not a problem, I just cancelled your ticket. Have fun finding a new way home.”

“Oh you asshole,” you pushed on his chest and he stumbled back a bit, the drink in his hand spilling over the sides. “You just want me to need you, that’s all it’s ever been. You don’t give a shit about me or my feelings, you just don’t want me needing anyone else.”

“I don’t give a shit about you?”  Lando practically yelled your words back to you. “Who’s the one who pays for you to come out to the races? Whose house do you stay at when you visit Monaco? Who makes sure you get five-start-fucking-treatment during race weekends?” He paused, his gaze landing on Pierre who had now walked up those few steps to stand behind you. “I’m pretty sure it’s not this French fucker.”

“You’ve been paying for my friendship, Lando,” you spat. “You bring me along to these things because you know I always put you on some kind of pedestal. I practically worship the ground you walk on, that’s the only reason why you keep me around.”

He opened his mouth to retaliate but his jaw tightened and his lips pressed into a thin line. If he had an argument to that, it wasn’t strong enough to prove you wrong. 

“It’s my own fault for thinking your gestures meant anything more,” you admitted to him. “And it’s my own fault for falling in love with you when I knew damn well you’d never do the same.”

There it was. That four letter word. It had remained unspoken in this context for so long, but it was out in the open now. You finally admitted, not just that you loved Lando, but that you were in love with him. And not in a past-tense sort of way.

You were still stupidly in love with him, despite everything that had been said. 

It probably only took a few seconds for you to realise just how much you loved him but it was going to take a hell of a lot longer for those feelings to disappear. 

Falling in love was quick. It was effortless. It was carefree and light and it left you feeling blindly optomistic.

Falling out of love was painful. It was hard, it was a treacherous path that would leave you feeling empty and scarred and the only person to blame was yourself. 

“Honestly, Lando,” your voice trembled, but you kept going, “I wish I’d never met you.”

For once, he was the one who looked like his heart had been ripped out of his chest, “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you nodded slowly. You felt Pierre’s hand on your back, but you quickly shook it off. “You make my life a living hell because I am constantly chasing after a man who strings me along but never wants me. I would be so much happier if you didn’t consume all of my waking thoughts, if I didn’t have to worry about when I’d see you next, if I didn’t love you.” 

You didn’t want to give him a chance to respond. There was nothing he could say at this point that would make this situation any easier.

So you turned around, pushing past Pierre and making your way down the stairs. You heard the hurried footsteps behind you, but you didn’t get your hopes up into thinking it was Lando that was following you. 

It was Pierre. He placed his hand on the small of your back and led you towards the side entrance of the club, knowing that paparazzi would be crowding the main street. 

���You don’t need to stay with me, I’ll just get an Uber back,” you said, but the way your voice broke matched the defeated look in your eyes and Pierre just shook his head.

“I’m not leaving you, Y/N, not after that. I may not have the best track record with women, but I’m not a total dick.” Pierre slid his blazer off and draped it over your shoulders before stepping out of the crowded club and into a back alley. He glanced at his phone to see when the Uber would arrive and then looked back at you. 

There were tears forming in your eyes and Pierre reached out for you, gently grabbing your arm to pull you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and swayed back and forth on his heels, resting his chin on top of your head as your staggered breaths hit the front of his shirt.

“Lando will wake up one day and realise what he lost,” Pierre assured you, a slight chuckle followed his words. You wanted to believe him, you really did. 

But in the back of your mind, you knew that whatever connection you had with Lando was officially over. He wasn’t going to need you, not anymore, not after tonight. 

And those would be the words you would have to tell yourself over and over until eventually, you no longer needed him too. 

--

what do we think, are we team lando or team pierre? all parts here

[brigid-faye]

small scene that's been bouncing around my head for idk a decade. not an excerpt from anything

Remus is standing in the shadows of the owlery, his chest jumping in too-quick breaths behind his folded arms, his barely-17-year-old face scowling and Sirius knows - he knows - the other boy is about two seconds from bursting into tears. Sirius doesn't understand why James and Peter don't seem to see that.

Unfortunately the two of them are currently between him and Remus, because those two are the sorts of friends you turn to when you're upset. You go to Peter for sympathy. You go to James to be buoyed up. Sirius knows who he is. His brand of fury will just make it worse.

"You sent it already?" James is asking, confused and disappointed.

"Why not?" Remus snaps.

They're talking about a note Remus just let fly, one in response to a nasty letter he received less than an hour ago over breakfast. The letter was rescinding an offer of a summer job at the national museum Remus got a week earlier. The letter didn't say they were pulling the offer because they learned Remus was a werewolf but Remus assumed that. Sirius did, too, because the world is shitty sometimes. (A concept Sirius is starting to understand that James and Peter don't quite grasp.)

James looks bewildered. Peter makes a 'slow down' motion and says, "Well-but-what did you say?"

Remus shrugs. "Thanks for the opportunity," he says flatly. "What was I supposed to say?"

"That they're being assholes!" James says. "Or-or, I don't know, I could write my mum, she could-"

Remus makes a hopeless sound, a shaky laugh, bitter and lost enough that Sirius involuntarily takes a step closer.

Remus looks at him.

Remus turns those hazel eyes to Sirius, his expression angry and hurt and pleading, and fuck-fuck-fuck this year has been a delicate, delicious, terrifying mess between the two of them and Sirius is so gone for him, and has no idea where they're going, or what he's supposed to do, but Remus is begging him to get this - this right here - right, so Sirius stops thinking.

He steps between James and Peter and yanks Remus into his arms.

Remus is startled; Sirius notices the way he stiffens and pulls back a little, like Sirius might think better of this. But when Sirius doesn't, when Sirius just holds tighter and says "Fuck 'em" in his ear, Remus collapses against his shoulder, letting go of his tears and hiding his face in Sirius' neck.

James and Peter are right there and silent and there's no way this looks like an embrace between friends, but Sirius doesn't care. Because maybe Peter is more comforting and James inspires hope, but Sirius is the one Remus wants right now, and that is everything Sirius needs.

[neteyamyawne]

🫀— Broken Hearts

༄ Pairing : Neytiri x Fem!Na'vi!reader.

༄ Summary : She left you for the one she said not to worry about, even when you warned her, in the end, this was not what meant for you to begin with.

༄ Warnings : Cheating, heartbreak, hurt/no comfort, Gaslighting, manipulation, aggressive behaviour, Neytiri being a red flag, toxic behaviour, attachment issues? Neytiri is an asshole, Jake being nice? use of [y/n] in some places.

༄ Prompt : Cheated on.

༄ Word Count : 1.9k Proof read.

༄ Note : I loveeeee Neytiri angst like THERE COULD BE SO MUCH NEYTIRI ANGST!! AHH FERAL (I'm crying 😭)

༄ Glossary : [uniltiranyu] - Dreamwalker, [Vrrtep] - Demon, [Tsahik] - clan's spiritual leader, [Yawne] - Beloved, [Tiyawn] - Love, [Vitrautral] - Tree of souls, [Paskalin] - sweet berry.

◦ Angstmas || Masterlist

She was your everything, quite literally after losing your brother and family in RDA attacks, she became your whole world, everyone knew about you and Neytiri, she was like nectar while you followed her like a bee, childhood friendship turned into love, who didn't want that?

Mo’at took the initiative of taking you in, being the mother you lost, your life was nearly perfect, a family, a loving partner, a place to live, good food, a life filled with love and affection all until a certain uniltiranyu was brought into your clan with your soon-to-be mate by his side.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

You were waiting for the right time to mate, as said by mo'at the time hadn't come yet, but still your heart yearned for the day to come soon.

The vrrtep that has taken a place in your clan, never failed to irritate you, more so since it was sign from the great mother for him to stay and for Neytiri to be the one who train him, your fears grew though, with each passing day as they trained you’d see from afar how they behaved together, the practices were getting suspiciously touchy even when not needed.

His little tricks, his constant smile, he always had a hand touching her, her hair… hand… shoulder and it didn't go unnoticed by you.

The communal dinners were the same, while you sat with Mo’at and Eytukan, Neytiri was immersed in a conversation with Jake about practice they had earlier with a radiant smile on her face that you hadn’t seen in weeks since he came into her life, she seemed distant as days passed by… and you were terrified but you trusted her… right?

Mo'at saw the look in your eyes, seeing her daughter with a demon they despised was something the tsahik didn't like herself but even more when she saw the daughter she took under her wing looking at her soon-to-be mate with someone else pained her more.

“Ma ite, everything would be alright, the great mother would not disappoint you, my child, she has a path for everyone…”

Mo'at whispered in your ear as she smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder before cupping your face in her palm.

“Do not be afraid to ask your questions, ask them before it's too late” mo'at knew what she was saying and so did you, you had to talk to Neytiri about this, it was the only way.

You stared at the woman who became your mother then to the one who was supposed to be yours forever and sighed as you picked and fondled at your food and nodded, lost in your thoughts, you had to talk and soon.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

The clan was turning back to their hammocks now, you returned to the one you shared with Neytiri since who know how long, it for good to have her back with you, at least the nights were yours, she smiled, it was genuine and you could see it, as the hammock covered you both she pulled you closer, tangling her limbs with yours.

Her golden eyes shone in the bioluminescent lights and you couldn't help but smile sheepishly as she pressed lazy kisses on your face.

“Neytiri… I wanted to speak to you.” You whispered in the middle of her kiss session and she stopped with her eyebrows furrowing, still holding you close to her “what is it, yawne?”

You took a deep breath, holding her hand tightly in yours as she laced her fingers with yours with concern on her face “Tiyawn, what is it?”

“I- what's going on between you and that uniltiranyu? I know you are training him but… it's- it's getting- i don't like it, Neytiri”

When you uttered those words, her face went unemotional, there was no love behind those golden eyes as she glared at you, as if all of it just evaporated in a second, which made you rethink your decision to ask her about him.

“Why would you think that, yawne?! He's a demon, one of them! It is just my task to make him one of the people, am I supposed to go against the great mother?! you shouldn't be thinking like that” her tone was cold on some level which didn't sit right with you.

Your heart dropped, this wasn't the reaction you were expecting and you shook your head in a hurry, this wasn't what you meant!

“No- No! Neytiri… this was not what I meant… I was just- um nothing, leave it, I don't want to fight, I'm sorry, i shouldn't have brought it up” you whispered as you her tail was firm behind her, her ears perked up alert.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she simply held your hand and closed her eyes, turning away from you to sleep on her back, which made a pang of guilt wash over your heart.

“If you knew me, you wouldn't have said that, Y/n, go to sleep” She whispered as if there wasn't anything else to say and turned around, her back facing you, you've slept this way when you little spooned her but this time it felt different, it was on purpose.

Sleep didn't come easily to you that night while you thought about what he said, you really shouldn't have asked that, of course she's mad, you questioned her loyalty to you? Idiot.

But the thoughts still lingered in the back of your mind, the what ifs were eating you inside out but you pushed them aside and went with it, she loved you, she'd never do something like that.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

Days passed by and the regular smiles turned into frequent laughs with him, moments together with her were becoming sparse, as if you were just a person who merely entered her life and went away at her expense.

Soon the day of Iknimaya came as you rode your ikran around the floating mountains and landed next to Neytiri while she was behind Jake… her hand on his chest as she Whispered instructions to him, was it necessary to place her hand there?

Still you let it be and focused on the fight that was about to occur between Jake and his chosen Ikran, it was intense as he was nearly thrown over the cliff twice but he managed it somehow and took the first flight which you and Neytiri joined him on.

Only one thing was left now… the ceremony, which would occur tonight and for once you didn't want Neytiri to be with him, it was done, her job was completed, she didn't need to be with him now, or that's what you thought.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

The ceremony was one of the crucial rituals of omaticaya to become one of them, as for once, a uniltiranyu has become one of them, you were happy with his accomplishments but for now you attention was on Neytiri as the Night was young and alive, you thought it was the perfect time to take her to the tree of Souls.

Neytiri was near the fire circle, chatting with someone until you pulled her aside with a bright smile on your face “Yawne… let us go to the Vitrautral… I have something to tell you” you whispered excitedly holding her hands tightly… but this time she didn't lace them together.

“Do we have to…? Right now? Paskalin… let's not, it's Jake's celebration, he would not like it, we can go… tomorrow!” She said with an unnatural enthusiasm which left you puzzled.

“T- Tomorrow? But it's a beautiful night, let us go right now!” you said as you tugged on her hand but she held back.

“Don't you understand? I don't want to go right now?!” She snapped and you were taken aback, the enthusiasm completely gone as she slid her hands away from yours “you can go rest, I'll come after you”

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

Those were her last words, she never came to your hammock that night and heart filled with the worst scenarios, but what if she just wanted a break today? She has spent many nights like this when she wants to be alone, maybe it's one of those? But you knew it was different, everything was different and you didn't want to think about the other possibilities…

❝Now I have to

Remember you,

For longer than I

Have known you❞

— c.c.aurel

The dawn of that day was the darkest moment of your life…

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

The commotion in the main area woke you up, the gasps and murmurs filled the tense air, the whispers grew louder when they saw you walk in through the crowd before you heard Tsu'tey grunt and snarl at Jake “You MATED with this woman?!” And your heart dropped as you saw Jake and Neytiri standing between the circle- hand in hand.

“Neytiri…” Your whisper was louder than any scream that she could have heard, the sight in front of you broke your heart like never before, you trusted her…

She looked away, not daring to look at your way, your face, the whole clan was quite watching with bated breaths, mo'at closed her eyes Whispering a prayer to eywa to give you the strength to face this.

You walked forward to her but Jake got in between “Look, Y/n, I'm sorry… I know this was an ass-” but your growl made him shut his mouth as you brandished your knife to his neck and he backed off with his hands in the air “you stay out of this Sulli! Do not talk or-”

Your sentence was cut off when Neytiri tackled you to the ground and snarled and hissed in your face, fury ebbed in her eyes as she pressed her own knife to your throat.

You couldn't care less as you looked into her with all the sincere love you had for her “so this is what I shouldn't have worried for? That you'd “never” do this to me? Why lie Neytiri? Why LIE?!”

You pushed her back with your strength as she was left speechless, the flowers from her hair falling out, you got up ready to fight before Tsu'tey gripped you from behind and held back as for the first time, tears streamed down your flushed azure cheeks, tail swishing behind you tensely.

Neytiri on the other hand looked at the ground in shame, Jake placed a hand on her shoulder in some sort of comfort before she spoke “Y/n… I shouldn't have done that… I know and I still did and will do it again for him because… I'm sorry- I- I don't love you.. anymore” her voice was hushed at the end but the words were enough to cut your heart in half.

Mo'at could watch it as she looked at her daughter in disappointment and then at Jake in anger as she stood beside you “Neytiri, you have done wrong, to our clan and Y/n, your illicit affairs shall be taken care of later”

Her voice was cold and Neytiri was in shock, her mother never called her by her name, always some sort of a nickname but also Neytiri knew she did wrong.

There was no point in standing there as Mo'at and Eytukan took you aside as your sobs were unstoppable while Tsu'tey argued with Jake and Neytiri about something.

You've never felt pain like this, you always saw her as your mate, your dear mate who could do no wrong in your eyes but you were too blind to see the signs.

Now it was all you could do, wallow in the pain of your heart that broke down piece by piece as the one you saw your mate turned your whole world upside down, if this was the path eywa chose for you, then you despise her for it.

Ho Ho Ho : @cryinginthemoonpool, @luvv4j4ybe11, @xylianasblog, @plooto, @itchaboi-itchyboy, @pandoraslxna, @taylormarieee, @thewiltedpeony, @neteyamswillow, @danniackerman, @hotdsworld, @zafrinaxyz, @xstarsdiary, @moondaisye, @puddle-nerd, @eywxveng, @minnory, @neteyamssyulang, @tavsianus, @ele-sme.

©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

blank space - m. murdock

a/n: uhm... this one is dedicated to my friend arin who doesn't like daredevil but is encouraging me to be more unhinged. i hope you guys enjoy because i had a blast writing this. possible part two in the works, please like and reblog with comments and feedback <3 warnings: i cannot emphasize this enough-- DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT there is so little comfort to all of this hurt. matt is abusive and mean and reader is tortured and quiet and readers dad is an addict and a gambler and also stabbing, cursing, talking about fucking, sub/dom dynamics, nicknames, fem reader, lmk if i missed any! word count: 3.5k summary: Your dad makes your life horrible. Matt can make it worse. paring: dark!matt murdock x reader now playing: blank space (taylor's version) - taylor swift "so it's gonna be forever/or it's gonna go down in flames?/you can tell me when it's over/if the high was worth the pain"

You never meant to get involved with him.

Really, it wasn’t anything you did.

 As usual, it came back around to your father, who had a bad gambling problem, as well as a substance issue, and would often be tempted to gamble big prizes for things like coke or heroin. He would bet money, college funds, heirlooms, your house.

But of course, he couldn’t pay these debts.

Your mom had been gone for quite some time, and you suspect this is where your fathers’ addictions stem from. But you’re trying to just make your way through your adult life. You had gone to a local college, unable to afford much else. Now, you worked in a dingy little office where they constantly abused your work ethic.

Between your grief, his constant betting on your lively hood, and your asshole boss, you felt your bones grow tired. Not the sort of tired that could be fixed by a good night’s sleep. The sort of tired that could be fixed by a new life, not that you had the means for that.

You think your mother would haunt you for the rest of your days if you abandoned your dad.

Friday night came, and you were ready to go home to the small apartment you shared with your father, and drink some wine, and get a nice sleep.

You had been told by your boss that you needed to stay late to translate paper files to the digital system. No, you would not be getting paid overtime.

It was dark by the time you finally left, your feet aching in your heels as you made your way through Hell’s Kitchen, wanting to get home so as not to start crying on the streets of New York.

You don’t make it home.

As you turn the corner by your block, you notice a van creeping up on you. How long had it been following you? If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would know.

But the van pulled up next to you, and you did the only thing you could in this situation. You started to run.

Only, you made it about ten feet before you twisted your ankle with these stupid fucking heels. As you fall, you let out a cry of pain, and before you can think, two men are outside the van. They grab you by the arms and pull you into the van, the whole time you struggle.

Someone puts a black hood over your head and wraps duct tape around your hands. Your ankle is fucking aching.

You aren’t sure how long you drive for, but someone is then pulling you out of the van and drags you along. They give you an opportunity to walk but your ankle hurts to the point where you can’t walk.

They drag you again, and your foot is dragging, and holy shit, you can’t believe that your biggest concern while being kidnapped is how much your ankle hurts.

Eventually, hood on your head still, you are sat in a chair. Your hands are untied, and you want to jump up and fight, but you know your ankle won’t help you here.

They quickly tie your hands back to the chair, with rope this time. Whoever ‘they’ are.

You’re starting to have trouble breathing, because you’re realizing what sort of situation, you’re in right now.

You’ve been kidnapped for something; you have to assume in some way that it’s to get back at your father.

The hood is pulled off your head, and your eyes take a moment to adjust.

The room you’re in is dark, dingy. You know there’s two people behind you, big enough to carry you. You can hear water outside the room, assuming you’re in an abandoned office by the docks. Then, there’s three people in front of you.

One is a man, with long blond hair. He wears a nice suit and is just standing in front of the door. Another is a woman, with even longer blond hair and she also dons rather luxurious apparel. Your dirty work clothes make you look meager next to her.

The last is a man with dark hair. He wears a simple, rather expensive suit, and red glasses.

If you weren’t on the verge of a meltdown, you’d probably realize how hot he is.

Oh, he also holds a knife.

The blond man talks first.

“So. Do you want to start, or should we?”

“What?” Your ankle throbs.

“I guess we should, then.” He hums. “Do you have five grand worth of heroin on you, dear?”

You could throw up.

“I—”

“No, of course you don’t. You and your boyfriend probably used it all.”

What is he talking about? Now, on top of being in pain and panicked, you’re confused.

“The man you live with?” The woman finally speaks. “I assume you two used all the heroin he stole.”

You realize she means your father. You realize that your father stole five grand worth of heroin. What else did he steal?

“What else does he owe?”

“No, darling,” she scoffs, “We ask, you answer.”

“I don’t do heroin.”

“So, how do you know he owes us more?”

“Took a wild fucking guess.” You spit. “Figured you wouldn’t kidnap someone over five grand, figure money is no object.”

The man with the knife steps out of the shadows. Your heartbeat races, and he chuckles. He crouches in front of you.

“You’re a spitfire. I like that. In fact, I love that in a woman, don’t I, Foggy?” He turns his head back slightly.

Foggy answers.

“That you do, man.”

His head turns back to you. But you get the impression by his glasses that he can’t see. So how is he looking right at you?

“If you give us some sort of sass like that again, I’ll stab you and make sure you feel every second of pain.” You whimper, and he laughs again. “Not so cocky anymore, are we, sweetheart?” He stands and goes behind you, his arms landing on the outside of your own, caging you in. He leans down and whispers in your hear, “Is this.. turning you on, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer.

“Answer me.”

“No.”

“Liar.” He whispers back, the knife gracing over your ear. He cuts your ear just enough to make it bleed, and tears slip down your face. He makes his way back to the front of you and crouches again. “I’ll ask you again. How do you know he owes me more?”

“I figured he would, when gamblers start, they don’t stop.”

“Not only did you lie to me again, you also just gave yourself away. Lie to me again and I hurt you worse.”

Your foot that isn’t hurt goes up and kicks him in the face. At least it tries, because his reaction is too quick, and he grabs your ankle.

“Bad, bad girl.” He tuts. He lets go of your leg and picks up your other leg, the one with the bruising, swollen ankle. You start to shake. His hand squeezes the wound and when you yell in pain, he just coos at you. “Aw, does that hurt, sweetheart?”

You’re busy crying.

“Answer me!” He demands. It shakes you to your core. You realize you do not know who you’re dealing with, and you’re even angrier at your father for jeopardizing you like this.

“Yes!” You sob, and this seems to satisfy him. He takes the knife in his other hand and slowly cuts open your stocking, loving the way you’re shaking with fear.

 “Keep moving and you’ll cut yourself.”

You try to calm yourself down, on the verge of a panic attack. The knife grazes your leg, and he starts to focus in on your thigh, twisting the knife around your skin.

“How do you know him?” he asks. And you aren’t sure why you try it. You don’t know how he knows when you lie.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back, just let me go, I promise, I’ll tell you where he is, just—”

Then you feel it.

The knife pierces your thigh and is lodged into your leg. You scream in pain, gripping the arms of the chair. Fuck, it hurts. Your vision blurs, and you’re unsure whether it’s from pain or from your tears.

 He stands up in front of you, ignoring the stares from Karen and Foggy. He knows he might have gone a step too far for someone he’s pretty sure is innocent in all this. But he can’t help himself. He likes hearing you wither in pain, and he likes being the person administering the pain. He has all these things he’s in control of, but at this moment, no one else is in the room. It’s you and him, in a rather intimate moment.

He pats your chin, “C’mon, focus, right here, sweetheart. Tell me the truth and I make the pain go away.” He tells you, breaking through the wall of pain and fear that blocks your ability to think.

“He’s my father!” You finally cry out. It comes out as if you’re yelling in church, screaming to God a confession you can’t bear anymore. The only thing missing is your position on your knees, but being below this man like this is as close to an altar as you can see yourself being. “I know he has a gambling problem, and I know he has a drug problem but that’s it! I don’t know anything else, I just lost the parent roulette, okay?!” Your words come gasped out, in between sobs and when you’re not too distracted with your pain.

He seems to be satisfied with this. He gets back down, closer to the ground. Now he’s the one at the altar, but the devil has no place in a church, only between your thighs. He tilts his head and kisses the inside of your thigh.

“See? Good girls get rewards.” Bad girls get stabbed. He stands up, and with him, he pulls at the knife. Blood gushes as you cry out in pain again, sure he'll leave you to bleed out, to be fed on by rats.

He drops the knife at your feet and adjusts his tie.

“What should we do with her, boss?”

“Go get her father.” He says, “But don’t let her go just yet. I’d like to keep her a while.” You think you’ll be sick. “Knock her out though, we don’t want her knowing where she is.” That’s the last thing before the butt of a gun meets your head.

It’s a nice relief from the pain.  

• • •

You wake up on a bed with silk sheets. It’s almost nice enough for you to forget about the whole situation. Maybe your whole life has been a dream, and really, you’re a rich housewife for a man who loves you deeply and your mom is still alive.

But then you sit up, and your stockings are ripped, and your heels are gone.

A brace wraps around your hurt ankle. A bandage wraps around your thigh. The pain isn’t there anymore, you’re not sure what drugs have been given to you.

The room is rather barren, you realize, with little to no works of art or even photos, and it’s rather dark. It’s also freezing cold, a central air system whirling around you. You wonder, if you’re a prisoner, then why put you in a room like this?

What is happening?

The door opens and immediately you went to defend yourself, though there were no weapons around you.

The man from the night before steps into the room, and he looks... casual. He wears dark jeans and a tee shirt, his glasses discarded. Bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” You don’t respond, just stare at him. “I’m Matt.”

You stay quiet.

“You’re not being tortured anymore, honey. If you want, you can lie and be mean now, I don’t bite. Not anymore. Not unless you want me to.”

“I’m Matt.” You repeat, unable to believe it. “You stab me in the leg and kidnap me, and you go as casual as ‘I’m Matt’?” He grins.

“I told you; I love a woman with some fire.” You wonder how many times he’s used that line on people. “Telling them they’re beautiful just doesn’t hit the same way when you’re blind.” He says, going over to a door, and when he opens it, you realize it’s a closet.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

“No?” He turns to you, and smiles. He says your name. How does he know it? “You went to college for Marketing, cute. No siblings. Your mom died a few years ago, after a long battle with cancer. I’m sorry.” This sounds sincere. “You were engaged once, but he cheated on you and is now married to the other woman.” And he goes back to stinging. “Your father, I know all about him. David is an addict and a gambler. Now, addict, I could deal with. Addiction runs deep but it can be managed. It’s the gambling that frustrates me, and Sweetheart, If I’m frustrated, you must be riled up. He gambles everything, I should know. He gambles it to Foggy, who shares it with me.” He hums. He picks clothes out of the closet and heads back to you, “The pants are your size, but the shirt is mine.” He tells you, laying the clothes out in front of you. “Don’t worry about me watching, or anything.” It’s almost enough to make you smile.

You get changed, the challenge of slipping into the slightly lose jeans the hardest part. The bandage fits right in there, but even whatever pain meds have been given to you, aren’t enough.

“So, your father,” You groan, your face in your hands. You get it, your father is awful, and he hates him, but you know that your father is awful, and you know that you hate him. Why must he keep involving you? “I know, sweetheart, you’re in pain, and you hate him, but just stay with me on this.” he says, a cooing tone to his voice. You don’t know why, but you’re compelled to listen to him. “Your father forces you to live in this small apartment, because you’re the only one who works, and he always manages to find your money to gamble away. But it’s not just the money, it’s your electronics, your nice shoes, any pills you have in the house. And really, by doing all this, he is gambling you. Because not only is he risking not being able to pay his debts and someone taking you, but you’re tired. Aching for absolution that will never come. But the worst part is that even though all this stems from his grief around your mom, he gambled her wedding and engagement rings, the one you were always told you’d be proposed with.”

Tears well your eyes.

“Please, stop.”

He sits next to you on the bed, and you don’t have the energy to move away from him. In fact, you lean against him ever so slightly. He must know it too, you figure, since he can tell when you’re lying and when your heartbeat races. He’s warmer than you imagined. He’s a beacon of warmth in this cold, dim room.

He takes something out of his pocket, and then drops it into your hands. It’s a necklace, just a simple chain. Three things hang on it. A silver charm with an ‘M’ on it, and two rings. Your mom’s engagement ring, and her wedding band. You thought you’d never see it again, not after you came home and went to your jewelry box only to find out from your dad that he had lost it in a poker match a few weeks before.

You clutch the necklace in your hands.

“M for Matt?”

“Or Murdock, whatever you’d like.”

“You’re in charge, right? Just how in charge are you?”

“I run everything. There isn’t a corner of this city that I don’t have men in.” So, he’s the kingpin. The boss. Matt Murdock, a man feared by all, gentle to only you. Only for this moment.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

“Bun, I was never going to let you go. But I don’t think you want to leave, either.”

You stay quiet. You can’t run. He made sure of that. Was he always going to stab you? Had he decided that from the moment he heard you whimper or was it your reaction to his pet names that did you in?

His fingers come up to graze your ear gently, but you flinch, since it’s where he had cut you.

“Bunnies are always so sensitive to the ears. Fragile. It’s not like you can hop away. Besides, you need time to heal, and I could take away all the pain. No more mean fathers, no more mean bosses, and no more mean thoughts.” He says gently. “I could put you back together.”

His voice is soft, as if his intentions are as well, but you’re sure he’ll destroy you. He will not put you back together, only break you down, collecting tiny pieces of you for his collection.

You consider it. You would never have to work again. You would never have to do anything again. You would never have to see your father again.

You turn your head, and nod.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll stay.” It wasn’t as if you had a choice in the matter. But nonetheless, He grins, and takes the necklace from you, only to wrap it around your neck, and clasp it on.

Despite the rings being something you had longed for, the ‘M’ alone weighs on you like a boulder.

He tilts your head gently, his fingers brushing against your chin, and you look away, ashamed of what you have done. He grabs your chin and keeps you looking at him. He leans forward and for a moment you just stay, feeling his hot breath against your lips. Tears escape from your eyes and run down your cheeks. He tuts softly and kisses your cheeks where the tears lie.

“Sh, Sh.. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he comforts. His other hand trails down to your thigh, where two of his fingers find the stab wound, and push into it. You whimper in pain, grasping his wrist. He sighs deeply, “Pretty noises.” He hums. “I would never deny you anything, bun. But if you deny me what I ask, it won’t end well for you. Understand?”

You nod, but when you aren’t verbal, he pushes down harder, the bandage and his fingers soaking with blood.

“Tell me. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, Matt.” You manage to whimper out. He takes his fingers away and kisses your cheek.

“Good. Good job, honey.” He says softly, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking your blood off them. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

He leans forward and kisses you, and it’s full of a gentleness you weren’t sure he was capable of. You kiss back, afraid of what he’ll do if you deny him again.

He winds up kissing you to sleep, not mad at you for falling tired as you kiss. You lay with him in these silk sheets, freezing cold as you cuddle into him. He relishes being wanted. You accept that this is love. He feels you shivering and pulls you closer.

His hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tickling the bottom of your torso. You whine when he does this, burying your head in the crook of his neck. He laughs, kissing your head.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll buy you blankets. Blankets, Diamonds, anything you want.” He tells you. You’re tired. You just want to nap. You want him to give you more of the drugs that dull the pain of your thigh, and you want to eat something homemade that you didn’t cook yourself.

You want to give in and remain thoughtless. Just be happy with him since no one is looking for you anyways.

But as you drift off to sleep, feeling his hands crawl along your skin, you begin to plan. You’ll let him think you’re in love with him. You’ll let him love you, fuck you, put you back together. You’ll be his bunny, his arm candy, his toy to dress up and do whatever the fuck he wants. You’ll let him think he owns you.

He’ll know that he does.

And you’ll become close to his friends too. You’ll dress in pretty dresses, and he’ll pretend he’s oblivious to how much everyone wants you.

 And then, when your wounds heal, you’ll run.

You’ll flee the country, you’ll change your name, dye your hair.

But you don’t yet realize how relentless he is. How deeply enamored of you he is. By how determined he is to have you.

Escaping the devil will not be as easy as you think it might, not when he can hear your heartbeat, not when he can smell you, not when he wants you.

And it doesn’t help when he gives you the honor of killing your father.

That’s when you start to fall in love with him.

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part V)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 2.4k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: some misogyny and shit (you know who), psychiatry stuff, canon gore, blood, heads exploding, and violence?.

Notes: so I'm sorry for any mistakes during the psychyatric process, I go to therapy and take medication myself so that's all I know plus google research. And be aware of the gore descriptions, I tried to do my best I guess lol. Thanks for reading as always!

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | | Part VIII

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part V: Blow Your Mind

With a deep breath, you reviewed the symptoms Soldier Boy barely 'gave' during your session. The list was kind of long on the pages and it read:

Always being on guard for any danger, self-destructive behavior, irritability, angry outbursts, panic attacks, feeling emotionally numb, not trusting anyone, not feeling safe, hypervigilance, intrusive thoughts, fatigue, muscle tension, headaches, back pain...

There was a weird silence surrounding both of you, mostly because of his mood and his change in demeanor from a somewhat friendly asshole to an irritated, unbearable jerk. Once you had started with the uncomfortably stupid questions, he felt threatened. Soldier Boy wasn't actually open to talk about his past and the traumatic experiences he had, and that meant it was difficult to get to know how his body and mind were reacting to all the stress and madness he went through in decades, adding those weeks after Billy Butcher had released him from his nightmare.

He was opposed to speaking directly about how he was feeling, but you knew better that Ben speaking out on his symptoms was not going to happen. So you had to ask each one of them and review some his most harsh experiences directly, in order to receive monotonous responses, limited to: 'yes', 'no', 'I don't know,' and finally 'what the fuck is that?' You took them all as an absolute yes.

He was being defensive and you knew better than to miss anything after he almost burned the whole damn building. And with the small but confident experience you had with psychiatry, you concluded that he needed medication and therapy. As soon as fucking possible.

"Yeah, you have PTSD," you said after a moment and your eyes found his unreadable gaze.

He raised his eyebrows with false surprise. He already heard that shit from Hughie before. "And where's the fucking drugs?"

"For that to happen, you have to stop the weed first."

"I've survived bricks of coke mixed with shit you probably don't know about and you want to take the only thing that's keeping me sane? Fan-fucking-tastic!" he fumed, but you didn't flinch. Not a bit.

"Look, my goal is keeping you safe and making you sane because you definitely are not. Not right now. And since I took you out, you'll follow my process, so stop whining."

He chuckled softly with a bitter grimace on his lips as he shook his head softly. "No, that's not gonna happen."

"I don't care if you agree with that, it's settled," you continued, a triumphant smile plastered on your face.

It was true, you didn't give a single shit. He had to be clean and quit any type of drugs to start the medication but most importantly, to use his blood. Eventually. You were more than aware that he wouldn't die easily, that was proved. And it was just a matter of time to get him to your lab to take samples of his blood and run the necessary research on them while you and your team still continued the studies with the Anti-V prototype. You were only hoping that day would arrive soon enough. Two months sober, that was all you needed from him. And the best part? Soldier Boy didn't have to really know the whole details.

Ben, on the other hand, clenched his jaw so tight and closed his eyes for a moment after hearing your statement. You really were a fucking bitch, letting him fall into the abyss of misery and torture that was his own wrecked mind. He considered your intentions internally, once again for the millionth time. You showed up there all dressed up, playing a rich doctor when in reality you were just a fucking slutty brat, just to tell him he had to stop his usual pot, which you also brought happily when he asked you to. And now, you were taking away the only thing that stopped him from ripping your head off. What a great move.

"That's not smart," he insisted.

"Why not? I have you under my own terms."

Ben tilted his head, studying you carefully. "You can't stop me, doll. None of you can. I'm only here because I find it suitable instead of storming out and catching unnecessary attention."

Ben saw you swallow down, he immediately knew it was because you were angry, not scared. You never really seemed scared of him. And you tried to restrain yourself from slapping him right away. "Are you blackmailing me again, Soldier Boy?"

"Is just a warning," he said, nonchalantly. "Wouldn't want to harm such a pretty thing like you, now wouldn't we."

"Oh well, just a reminder I can also turn on the damn gas if needed," you snapped. The arrogant smirk on his lips fell off and it was your turn to smile back. "We all have hidden cards, right?"

Such an arrogant bitch, he thought.

"So, what's your plan?" you switched the subject to avoid going further into what was troubling him.

"What do you mean?"

"Homelander. You want him dead, don't you? You must be getting ready to fight again..."

His body seemed tense once you pushed him to talk, looking away from you to calm a bit. "Isn't that what all of you want?"

"Any sane person would love that, trust me."

Soldier Boy narrowed his eyes. "Well, I can do it. If I wasn't here... You've seen what he's capable of. Jesus, I've seen it," he bitterly chuckled. "And the kid? He's a fucking menace."

"You've been watching the news, I take that—"

"The fuck I do! Wasn't gonna wait for you to keep me up to date of what the fuck is going on!" Ben shouted, his loud voice roaring in your ears despite the distance.

"I don't want you to stress out more than you do," you said, vacillating. "A lot of things take time, such as you adapting to the twenty-first century."

"I'd love to know when that'll happen," Ben insisted. "Or else, I might just break out."

With a tentative smile, you started to write down the report. "I'm so glad you're talking more during our sessions."

You barely said goodbye to Soldier Boy once you finished your daily session. Your head was aching as you walked down the aisle, barely leaving the empty wing of the building behind. Certainly he was hard to handle and was behaving defensively. Before you left he began asking, or better said, bossing you to get him whatever the kid Hughie told him he needed to learn how to use. Shit like the internet and GPS, he said. You told him he was not ready for it yet.

But you'd give him a golden star for trying and insisting so badly, even if he was against eighty percent of your methods. He was up to something, there was no question for that. He was a soldier, more or less like his given supe name. People like him always had a plan, and underneath his facade, there were more plans backed up with words of honor that you had to track sooner or later.

As you made your way to your office, greeting your lab employees and guards, a disturbing sensation grew up inside. Before crossing the doorframe you subtly looked around, focusing for some reason in the security camera, more time than you'd like to admit. You turned again to finally get inside, facing the entry of your office when hurried steps and a voice stopped you from doing so.

"Doctor!"

Once again you turned on your heels to see your assistant, tablet in hand. Those had to be the results.

"Hey," you began. "You have everything?"

Bianca nodded with a straight face and handed you the tablet. You noticed her tight grip and her somehow trembling fingers when you took the device from her hands. You eyed her a little, she remained with her hands intertwined in front of her, her attention seemed lost. With caution, you continued to check the file.

"Is the patient alright?" you asked, reading the profile of the supe who had the not so good luck of being tested previously.

Solaris was his supe name. And he had the ability to manipulate light and matter with his mind. He had taken part in the program for a month now and this was his first test. As always, each supe you had into the program was low-profile. You were thankful of your team keeping these supes under their gaze to offer them some sort of solution, even after all the deaths you tracked from time to time when a test of the Anti-V was run. More than a solution for them, it was a partial contribution to find it.

You quickly scanned the updated file that Bianca completed for you. He was doing better than projected, his powers were still gone with a forecast of probably coming back within a couple of hours. A deep breath left your lips. Now that was an improvement. It was the first time anything like that happened on any tests. The supe survived, he was weak but the powers were off for a bit. It was a small step closer to your goal. Just a little bit more maybe and it could be done, finally...

"He's resting right now," Bianca interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes were back on her face.

"This is great news, thank you. I trust he's doing okay."

She nodded. "He is."

"Great, I guess I'll see him in a couple of hours," you said about entering your office.

"Wait!" Bianca suddenly closed the little space between both of you. She breathed heavily before stuttering words out. "I, I have- I'm sorry..."

"Are you okay?" you inquired, knowing her behavior was unusual. She swallowed down, turning her gaze away, her hands shaking. Was she sick? "Bianca, what's wrong?"

You tried to reach her cheek with your hand, but she stepped back abruptly, looking at you like if you were a ghost with her eyes red and wet, and a fine layer of sweat adorning her skin.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

You walked towards her, worried about what was going on but every step you took, she also gave it back.

"Bianca, what's happening?"

Her back bumped the wall of your office, and finally, she started to cry. "I'm sorry. You have to go, please..."

Your heart started pounding heavily on your chest. "What—"

"Go now! Please... Please don't hurt me..."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Bianca," you whispered, trying to comfort her.

But she continued crying and mumbled incoherent words with eyes shut, while hot tears streamed down her face. She choked on her sobs as she pleaded for her life. But you didn't understand why. You tried to soothe her, reaching her shoulder with your free hand.

And when you placed your palm on her, everything became red. It all happened in seconds. Ropes of warm blood covered your face in an instant. A loud gasp fell from your throat. You felt every drop mixed with brains on the skin of your face, on your neck, and sliding down the skin under your blouse. It was shocking and equally disgusting. And your eyes remained shut, not brave enough to move or see the horrid picture in front of you.

Your palm was still on her shoulder when the remains of her body fell to the ground with a thud. Your trembling hand wiped some blood from your face to open your eyes anew. The wall was painted with her, as much as you were, and it left a trail of blood from where her corpse slid to the floor. Her head long fucking gone.

"Shit."

Shit. Fucking shit. Was it him? It had to be him. There was no reason to doubt it. It was him. And he complied with his promise. Had Homelander been controlling Bianca? Was she the only one? No. There had to be something more. Homelander wasn't easy and he wasn't merciful with anyone. You had to stop him and get Soldier Boy out of the building. Now.

You tried to control yourself as best as you could, walking away to reach anyone, crossing a corner on the hallway, where a guard was casually passing by.

He stopped on his tracks at your sight, covered in blood and meat. "Doctor?"

"I need your help," you whispered.

He nodded quickly and you began explaining with a low, shaky voice.

"I don't know what happened, my assistant was right there with me when— Fuck!"

You walked some inches away when his head exploded, just like Bianca's did. Luckily, or not, this time was inside his helmet. All the red brains and blood were catched by it. Still, you wanted to throw up right fucking there. The remains of his body fell to the floor with a loud sound.

With a deep breath you continued your way, finding guards, lab assistants and agents. If they were alive, their heads popped into your sight. And if it was your somehow lucky moment of the day, you just found their headless corpses lying on the ground, creating a pool of blood you tried to avoid.

The only thing on your mind was taking Ben out of the building. The alarm had been turned on and the annoying sound of it was driving you crazy. Your head ached more than ever as you made your way to Soldier Boy for the second fucking time during the day.

Since there was no time to open the heavy door properly, you used a force field around the metal, moving the door until it slipped enough to let you in. You found him standing in the middle of the room. Eyes dark and alert, with fists and frame ready to fight. He wrinkled his nose once you entered the place.

"What the fuck's going on?" Ben growled, observing your blood covered face.

"We need to go, now. Take your clothes off."

He blinked, taken aback. Before he answered you continued with an explanation.

"I'll turn you invisible, but can't turn your clothes," you ordered, looking in the closet for a sports bag you knew was inside and picking a couple of shirts, pants and boxers as quickly as time allowed you to. Once finished, you turned to Ben again.

"Mind to fucking clarify?" he insisted. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Look, I'll tell you everything once we're out," you turned one of your hands invisible for him to see.

Ben snorted with laughter. How ironic, he thought.

"No fucking way."

"Strip. We're leaving."

[bonny-kookoo]

Looooove Unstable.

I was thinking about a drabble where OC has a wet dream at her cage, and jk watches but at first don’t understand and get worried thinking she is hurt untilllllll he is not worried anymore…

(I think with her cage you mean her room in JKs ship haha) ((also oof I gotta make all the GIFs myself now since the videos are still too new haha)

-> Masterlist

When your vital signs change, the ring on his finger displays a small message, alerting him of something being off.

He'd gotten the device recently just to soothe his own mind a little concerning your safety- and it worked. You seemed pretty cool with it too, now wearing your collar a lot more often after he'd bought a smaller transponder for it that's not as heavy and clunky than the old one, along with a softer, more comfortable to wear collar in general that's not so.. basic.

It's an investment for the future, down the line. He was serious with himself when he decided to keep you until you want to leave. So why not at least make your stay more comfortable?

Pulling the feed of your vitals up on his control screen, he notices your heart rate in particular having gone up. He's a little worried- are you scared? If yes, what's frightening you? He knows that humans get nightmares- and that they can terrify them so badly that they can actually die from it. So of course he's worried now.

But when he does what he always keeps as a last resort, which is turning on the surveillance camera of your room, he's caught off guard by what he sees.

You're indeed asleep. Clearly dreaming. But with the way you're.. moving, sheets between your legs, lips parted, hips slowly moving back and forth, it's clear that your dream isn't one of terror, but pleasure.

And he's not sure what to think of it.

He almost instantly shuts down the camera again the second he realizes what he's watching- but the image doesn't leave him even after the feed simply displays the message 'Disconnected'.

He's never looked at you in a more.. sensual sense. He's never thought of you as a potential partner, even just in a sexual sense. Would you even be able to last through the ordeal? Maybe. You seem to have good stamina after all.

Why is he even thinking about that?

It's not like you're interested in him like that. Or that he's interested in you like that. It's probably just natural- considering he himself hasn't had any.. sexual relief for quite a while now, it's only normal he's seeing you as a potential partner. And the fact that you're visually attractive to him, only adds to his primal instincts.

And you? Well, he takes your behavior as somewhat of a compliment. You must feel very safe to let yourself go like that. And he'd be an asshole to interrupt your.. private time like this.

So he rather just keeps an eye on your vitals, can't help but laugh when they normalize again, before he notices a blinking light signaling the shower in your room is in use.

Well, he hopes you at least had a good time-

Because he needs a cold shower.

Ice cold.

[crvptidgf]

Bad Blood • pt. II

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

➸ summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, you find it difficult to let go of the past. Your trauma lies deeper than you think. When when you meet somebody who understands your pain, your journey of self-discovery and healing begins to set sail. For once, everything in your life seems to click.

➸ warnings/notes: reader is of romanian descent, afab! reader, mentions of trauma, descriptions of death and traumatic events, profanity, friends to lovers trope, hurt/comfort, eventual smut (18+), trauma bonding, eventual mutual pining, mentions of the golden trio being dicks for the sake of the story

word count: 1.9k

————————

THE DAY AFTER the choosing ceremony was a little anticlimactic.

It was our first day of classes, and everybody had gotten sorted into their designated houses last night. We of course already knew where we would be put - the ceremony was more of an introduction into first year than anything. It was customary to put on the sorting hat - kind of like a rite of passage, or an initiation.

We had done it in secondary school and we had done it again while moving onto our next phase in life. The next phase - which I had no idea what held in store for me.

At the beginning of summer we had chosen our preferred subjects, classes which we would be studying in detail as opposed to the general knowledge that we had learned the years prior.

My first of the day was potions; obviously.

Since the majority - or more like all - of my friends were in Gryffindor, I left the Slytherin common room alone. Walking past them in the Great Hall, I bid them a good morning before finding a seat at my appointed table.

We were never allowed to stray from our house tables at breakfast - that was only reserved for lunch. A rule which was quite silly, I admit, but it was what we had to live by.

"It's a pity that you can't sit with your friends," came Enzo's voice, his body sliding next to mine on the bench. I shrugged casually before digging into the plates before me.

"It's alright - I survived the last 3 years of school, how different can college be?"

His eyes held a certain sadness in them before he cleared his throat. I was glad to be talking to him again.

"Well you can always sit with me."

I thanked him as I shoved a piece of bacon in my mouth, muffling my gratitude. As much as I hated to admit it, I was really appreciative of him. It felt great to have someone to sit with.

"Oh yeah, such a shame that you can't sit with those gits," said Theo. I almost didn't even notice him and Mattheo arriving. They sat in front of me, ignoring Enzo's glare at Theo's words.

I had no problem dealing with assholes who thought they were better than everyone. After all, Harry and I had our fair share of arguments with Draco Malfoy. He had calmed down immensely, but before the war he was a handful.

Theo needed less of an ego. Well, what's one more prideful Slytherin to kick down a notch?

"Leave off, Nott," said Enzo.

I simply ignored him as I dug into my breakfast. That day I made the note that Hogwarts University breakfasts were a God send. I was almost completely full after not even half of the plate.

It was nice to talk to other Slytherins. It was nice to not be judged simply by the name of my house - and it was nice to not have to sit alone for once.

Although Theo was a bit judgmental of my friends, he was nice to talk to. It didn't last long, though. He began to complain about the Golden Trio - saying that they were too pretentious and up their own ass.

"Those are my friends you're talking about," I said. I tried to not let him get to me, but with each word that exited his foul mouth, my blood boiled one degree higher.

Theo just rolled his eyes as he continued eating.

Mattheo's gaze met mine over the table.

"What class do you have first?" he asked. I was glad for the change in topic, so I shook my hands out under the table to get rid of my tension. I sighed as I responded.

"Potions. Why?"

"Me too. I'll walk with you," he said as he grabbed his bag off the floor and stood up. We still had a few minutes left of breakfast, but since I was already finished eating, I agreed. And anyway, I didn't want to be around Nott any longer than I had to be.

Leaving the hall, I breathed a sigh of relief, not even realizing that I was holding it in.

"Sorry about him," said Mattheo. "He's kind of a dick sometimes."

I scoffed.

"Yeah that's one way of putting it."

Mattheo stopped walking as he stood to face me. His hands were in the pockets of his blazer, letting his bag hand loosely off his left shoulder.

"He can be like that sometimes, but he's really nice once you get to know him."

I made a noise of disbelief as I crossed my arms over my chest. How good of a friend could a house supremacist be? Did he learn nothing from the years of war that raged on in the wizarding world? Did he not understand that the only way we even won was by working together and getting rid of the notion of blood superiority altogether?

Merlin, had he not heard the story of what happened to Enzo's parents?

"Don't think he'll be happy to know I'm a half-blood, I assume."

Mattheo's eyes squeezed shut as he bowed his head down. He huffed as he ran a hand down his face.

"God, he's not a blood supremacist. He just has too much pride in himself."

I nodded.

"That much I figured," I muttered as I began to walk again. Mattheo seemed nice, I just didn't want to hear him justify his friend's actions. I didn't care if he was nice. All I cared about was that he was talking down on my friends. People who took me in when I had nobody.

Mattheo sped up a bit, jogging to catch up to me. His shoulder brushed mine as we trekked along the hallways, looking into classrooms to find the correct one.

"And for the record - I like your friends. Never really spoken to them, but Harry does seem nice," he said, breaking the silence.

"He is," I stated simply before stopping in front of the potions room.

It was down in the dungeons, the dark stone walls letting little heat enter in that particular section of the castle. It didn't help that it was underwater, either. My hands rubbed up and down my arms, my robe providing little warmth against the gusts of subtle wind.

Mattheo leaned against the wall beside the door, studying me.

My arms were still tightened across my chest, and my eyes avoided contact with his. Something about being alone with him felt different. Last night I had no issue looking directly at him, but in the silence of the dungeons, I felt more intimidated.

"I get it. You're protective of your friends, but they're not exactly saints either."

My eyes hesitantly lifted up, meeting his brown irises. What was that supposed to mean?

"How would you know?"

He sighed, looking down at his feet. "Let's just get inside. Class is about to start."

I was about to object, but as I saw more and more students marching across the hallways, I decided he was right. As if on cue, the bell rang to signify the start of lectures. I guess I'd have to pry him for answers at a later time.

I sighed as I sat down at a random desk, only to be surprised when Mattheo bumped against me. He adjusted himself on the stool as he dropped his bag down.

"You don't mind, right?"

Truthfully, I was a bit happy he sat next to me. It would be nice to have a friend as my partner. A lot of the class was full of Slytherins - and as I stated before, I didn't have many Slytherin friends.

"As long as you don't make me fail the class."

His face broke out into a smile as he sucked his teeth. He looked forward to the front of the class.

"I'm amazing at potions."

I felt doubt rise in my chest. I gave him a skeptical 'mhm', telling him that I'll believe it when I see it. He clearly took it as a challenge. The emotion behind his eyes changed as he stared me down, smirking.

My nerves grew as he continued to look at me even when Professor Snape entered the classroom, only breaking the eye contact when he began the roll call.

My heart thrummed against my ribcage. In the small amount of space that we had at our desk, our knees were brushing against each other. I would move away, but every few seconds I'd forget and my knee would bump against his again.

All I got in response was a bump back. We were practically playing footsie under the table, but with our knees.

Snape began to do theory and we opened our books to the first chapter. It was revision of the most common potion ingredients, including the basics - Wolfsbane, African Sea Salt, Bat Wings, and Asphodel. This was what I was good at. Amazing even. What I didn't expect was for Mattheo to be just as good.

"What can act as an antidote for most poisons, with the exception of Basilisk venom," came Snape's monotonous voice.

My hand sprung up in the air, but Mattheo beat me to it.

"Yes, Mr.Riddle?"

"Bezoar."

'Suck up,' I thought. It was slightly hypocritical of me to think that, but my pride got the best of me. Especially when people were just as good at something as I was.

"Correct. 10 points to Slytherin."

I huffed in annoyance as my hand went back down, continuing to take down notes. I felt a nudge next to me only to see a piece of paper slide towards me.

'What's the problem? Mad that I'm better than you?'

Rolling my eyes, I shoved the page back to him. I muttered under my breath at him.

"As if."

I could hear him chuckle from beside me as he crumpled the parchment up. His quill flickered around as he wrote notes down, a small smile still etched onto his face.

"What is a common ingredient used in a Wiggenweld Potion?"

I had heard the question, but upon seeing Mattheo's hand raise up yet again, my eyes drifted to him. My eyes narrowed and I sent him a nasty look as I waited for Snape to call on him.

However, Snape called my name instead upon seeing me glare at Mattheo. My faze flickered away from him to look at the Professor. Ignoring the smug look on my potion partner's face, I responded.

"Billywing Sting Slime."

"...Correct. But next time, I'd appreciate you paying attention."

Mattheo snickered from beside me and I kicked his leg under the table, shutting him up immediately.

This was going to be a long year.

After finishing the double Potions lesson, Mattheo and I left Snape's classroom. He would not shut up about the fact that his potions knowledge was as good as mine. He bragged and bragged until I finally had enough. Pulling out my potions book, I hit his shoulder with it.

"Mattheo will you shut up!" I exclaimed. While my voice was angry, I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face.

His hand came to pinch at my cheeks.

"So cute when you're mad," he said. It's as if he knew it would annoy me more. My cheeks tinted pink as I looked away quickly.

"Why did I even let you sit next to me?" I asked rhetorically, huffing as I sped my pace up.

Mattheo's feet quickened to catch up to me. His arm came to rest around my shoulders, his other hand coming up to mess with my hair. Through my ruffled strands I could make out Hermione and Ron, walking hand in hand.

They stopped in front of me, watching the scene unfold.

Shit. This could not end well.

[mischiefmaker615]

Purrfect

Rating: PG-14

Summary: There was something very strange and familiar with the cat you decided to take in..

Requested by: @Laer111ee

‘’I swear- every time I’m here, that cat is always starring at you..its kinda creepy’’

Your best friend turns your attention over to the couch where the black cat perched in an almost to-proper position with its striking and.. intense green eyes looking into your soul. Its tail flicked ever so slightly and even with the door open to your apartment where you both stood, he didn’t make a single move to dash out. Looking back at your friend, you merely shook your head with a light laugh and a wave of the hand.

‘’you mean every time as in aka, a week? He probably needs more time to adjust or something, he might be to scared to move much.’’

‘’well in any case, perhaps he would be a good source of comfort since ..what happened today..’’ her light demeanor changed back to concern as she grasped your hand. ‘’are you sure you don’t want me spending the night?.. I hate leaving you feeling like this.’’

You shook your head with your face doing a good job at hiding your held-back emotional state. ‘’I’ll be fine, really. My boss is just being an asshole, nothing new.’’

‘’yeah but.. he can’t possibly think you can do all that stuff by yourself.. not without going crazy with stress and-‘’

‘’I can handle it, promise’’ you reassured her, masking your irritation of the topic as she sighed and nodded, taking a step back with a small wave.

‘’okay.. I’ll see you next week then Y/N, take care of yourself..’’ she smiled before you finally closed the door.

Taking a deep breath, you rested your forehead on the door with your eyes closed, trying to keep your mind from going there; but it did. The tears began to fall as you thought of the turn of events that unfolded in such a short amount of time, you never really got a chance to process it until now. Avoiding the situation entirely was easy.. but not when your alone with your mind.

Your boss lost a lot of employees already from various reasons, so not only do you have to cover all of their shifts and work, but he decides to degrade you for not getting things done fast enough or well enough.. quit? With what other job? bills are a thing in this world and this world is an expensive place. You could handle the work if you really push yourself.. hard.. but the way he humiliated and treated you was your tipping point. It was good money though.. but at what cost now.. your mental state.

You punched at the door, pretending it was him before turning your back on it and heading to your room. Not even bothering to plop on the bed, you sat on the ground against it with your knees to your chest, burying your face as you cried.

‘’why do you cry love?”

The low, silky voice came out of no where, causing you to look up to find its source and got pierced with a familiar gaze. A man with pale skin, raven black hair and an attire containing a mix of green, black and gold gazed upon you with a concerned look on his face. His striking blue eyes dared you to lie at him and something from the stare alone seemed.. recognizable somehow.

How the hell did he get in, you didn’t know. Who the hell he was, you couldn’t tell yourself either- no matter how familiar he seemed to be. Most of these questions didn’t bother to leave your lips as they parted with silence. For some reason, you felt no danger from the strange man before you- perhaps you were trying to process his question rather than wonder why he didn’t threaten you for money or whatever.

‘’why do i.. what?’’ you stutter out, already feeling like an idiot as your fingers gripped the carpet beside you, trying to shy away from him.

‘’you weep with deep emotion darling and you seem to be in fine health so my only conclusion would be that someone out there had to have hurt you. At least, from what I pieced together from what your friend was saying.’’ He explained, his voice gentle as his eyes never left yours as he remained in his crouched position before you.

‘’my.. friend?- how could you possibly know- why do you even-‘’

‘’care?’’ he finished your sentence with a smirk and sighed as he seemed to study your features, his eyes slipping down below your neck once or twice before flicking up to your orbs again. ‘’because in my low moment about a week ago up to now, you’ve shown me kindness. Its only right if I show you the same.’’

You blinked at him as you tried to understand what he was saying. You.. helped him for a week? He over heard your friend.. that gaze looked to damn familiar- no.. he couldn’t possibly.. but his smirk seemed to show that he understood what you were thinking. ‘’your-‘’

‘’I believe you’ve called me by the name of ‘cat’, but if you wish a proper name, Loki will do just fine.’’

‘’Loki..’’ you breathed as you slowly raised a hand and wiped your cheeks, almost embarrassed at how you presented yourself while your mind tried to process that he was the very creature that you had been caring for for about a week. At least you had that much time to process since it was clear that this.. rather attractive man was not here to harm you- he probably already would have if that was his intention. ‘’being shown kindness honestly won’t help right now unless you plan on killing my boss.’’ You say with mild sarcasm but your body tensed when Loki nodded.

‘’that shouldn’t be a problem-‘’

‘’no!- I mean.. that won’t be necessary.. even if that bastard deserves a little pain..’’ you sigh and look away from him.

‘’what may I be able to do then love?’’ he said gently, a hand slowly moving to your chin to turn your face to look at him again, movements slow as to not spook you.

Gods his eyes were gorgeous.. ‘’nothing unless you know of a way to help me forget..’’ you sigh, your eyes threaten to tear up over the sensitive topic you tried so hard to ignore before your body froze.

His lips were soft as they suddenly and very gently pressed against yours. His hand remained on your chin while the other supported himself as he leaned forward against your knees that prevented him from getting closer, so he worked with what he could get at. The sudden action made your mind blank, focusing on only feeling as your eyes slowly closed and told yourself this had to be a dream. An emotional overload that left you exhausted and dreaming realistic scenes that couldn’t take place in real life.. which is why you kissed back. Hell, if this was a dream, then why not enjoy it. because.. come on, your cat becoming a person.. there was no way in hell..

You feel Loki’s slender hands rest against your knees as he used gentle pressure to begin spreading them, his thumbs rubbing pointless circles as he deepened the kiss by being able to lean forward more before he pulled away briefly with his forehead pressed against yours.

‘’I might not be able to help you forget entirely, but allow me to help you forget for at least a blissful moment..’’ he breathed, his eyes studying yours with a hushed tone before his lips took yours in a more passionate kiss. He kissed you, ready to stop if you wanted him to but you made no moves to stop him.

He was right, and it was working. Your arms wrapped around his neck while your legs parted for him to move closer, his arm snaking around your waist while his other ran down your side and down the side of your thigh to pull your leg against his waist. His tongue ran across your bottom lip and you were happy to oblige before he soon had his tongue massaging yours.

Moaning against his mouth, you felt your body relax against his while your hands ran down his chest, fingers studying and trying to figure out how to find an opening to his labyrinth of an outfit before you felt him smile against your lips. You resisted the urge to whine but pulled away enough to give him pleading eyes.

‘’alright darling, only because you asked so nicely..’’ he teased with his voice almost above a whisper before a bright green seemed to sparkle over the both of you. You almost felt a tickle before you looked down at the both of you once the light was gone, to find you both in your under garments and Loki’s eyes already drinking in your beautiful body with hunger.

Your eyes flicked up to his with slight nervousness but enough confidence to want this while your arms wrapped around his neck ‘’help me forget..’’ you whispered and his arms lifted you up onto the bed.

‘’as you wish darling..’’

~

Your eyes snapped open to sudden alertness, your body even flinching as if someone shook you awake.. but no one was there. You could tell you were on your stomach, in bed, with the morning sun peaking through your blinds and into your eyes. The bright light made you turn your body away only to freeze when your whole body told you you were sore.

‘holy hell what a dream..’ you thought as you winced a little and switched to laying on your back. Perhaps you were just sore from all the work you had to do- no thanks to your boss.. but at the same time, you felt well rested. Definitely not a result that would stem from your boss.

You brushed your hair more out of your face and sighed. You have never had an amazing dream like that before, it being over only made you disappointed to have to get up. If it were possible to go back to sleep and back to that dream, you’d stay in bed all day. Wait-

Your hands clutched the sheet around you out of instinct, finding yourself naked. You never slept like that.. Trying to piece things properly together and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you turned to make a move out of bed only to squeak out of surprise when you saw the cat you rescued stayed perched on your nightstand, watching you.

‘’..hello cat..’’ you said hesitantly, keeping the sheet closer to you as you stayed put before your brow raised. Didn’t that cat have green eyes before? ..not blue..

Leaning forward, you examined the cat closer that watched you with a calm manor and didn’t move an inch as you gently ran a hand against its head. ‘’..Loki?’’ you whispered, almost feeling silly to try to ask its name but it was worth a try right? What made your hand draw back with widened eyes was when it’s eyes suddenly changed color to the familiar green..

And licked its lips.